Wasteland | Sweet Devil!Russia x Reader

Wasteland | Sweet Devil!Russia x Reader

---

He's quite odd, isn't he?

That's the only thing you remember from a conversation with your friend. You can still hear it in your head. It's almost supersonic, bouncing painfully off of the walls of your aching cranium.

You rub your temples, still not used to how this place makes you feel.

Heavy footsteps make their way over to you sloppily. You sense his hands, pale and calloused as usual, wrap around your shoulders. Refusing to ease into it, you rip from his grip.

“You did this to me!” you scream, tangling your hands into your matted hair. You stare at the pale orange ground.

“I... I warned you,” he says, his voice low and full of concern.

He really did, but you didn't listen. You shake your head despite him being right.

“Now all I can say is this: Welcome to the Wasteland, mishka.”

You growl, letting yourself fall to the dirt. The rocks strewn about along the hardened soil stab at your legs.

Not another head rush.... As if by unintentional command, darkness envelopes your vision.

---

After opening your eyes, they focus on the ceiling above your head. You look around, registering where you were, then double-checking just to be sure. No, you think, it felt so... real.

You notice a figure next to you. It looks familiar. “Ivan?”

Silence.

You were about to say his name again when he began mumbling, seemingly to himself.  “You should've... no, no, you shouldn't have...”

“...Er...Ivan?”

He rips the comforters off of him and sits up, sweating profusely.

“Are you okay?”

Ivan looks at you, his purple eyes insane and his mouth depressed. “...You.” His lips curl up into a wide smirk.

As if on cue, the world begins crumbling around you. Walls tumble to the ground and the debris vanish into dust. The bed on which you sat dissipates and your left to fall to the rocky ground. The stones are knives against your skin.

A sandstorm blows in from the right and a blizzard from the left.

Ivan stands in front of you, his fists clenched at his sides.

Without turning to you, he says: “Welcome to the Wasteland, mishka.”