Language: English
Categories: Angst/General?
Title: Haunted
Summary: It wasn't as if he was surprised that no one seemed to like him; he was even less surprised that they seemed to be unnerved by and fear him. . .It wasn't his fault that humanity was so currupt and greedy; after all, they had made their own selves like that, not him, and tried to force it upon the spirits of their nations.
Author's Note: Yes, I'm one of those that doesn't think he's all that bad a guy if you look past the cover you're given. (Although I don't think that's wholely the case for one of my friends who was most recently nicknamed after him.) Regardless, this was another meme entry to a sad theme where the inspiration given was Evanescence. (How original...) And yes, it's probably extremely ooc from what the normal view is. Then again, if you're going to put up a mask, it had might as well be convincing enough to even fool yourself. At least for as long as it's possible, that is. Crappy title, I know...But it's better than what the title originally was. xD
Haunted
It wasn't as if he was surprised that no one seemed to like him; he was even less surprised that they seemed to be unnerved by or fear him. But really, how could anyone blame him for just following the orders of his leaders? Or for doing what he thought was best for his country and his people? It wasn't his fault that humanity was so currupt and greedy; after all, they had made their own selves like that, not him, and tried to force it upon the spirits of their nations.
Perhaps that was why England was so bitter over America - he had raised him for so long and had done as his kings and queens demanded, only to have the inexperienced young blonde run from him.
Although, in his defense, Alfred had been just a child at the time hadn't he? How was he to know that his guardian had only been doing what was asked of him?
Well, by that same token, now that the boy had a few centuries under his belt, shouldn't he know better than to assume Russia was any different from the rest of them in that sense? He was the self-proclaimed hero, wasn't he?
Ah, well; it couldn't be helped, but that didn't mean it didn't still bother the Russian a bit.
If he were to think about it for a minute or so, the irony of the coldness that the other nations held toward him lately matched that of the climate of his house. He could see the sardonic sense of humour fate possessed there, and he could recognize and appreciate it, if not somewhat bitterly.
All things considered, though, at least he didn't have to suffer the chill alone; always lurking somewhere nearby was his scary sister, and then there were Latvia and Lithuania. They didn't seem to have the same hatred or contempt of him as the other nations did, but then, they also didn't seem to be jumping for joy whenever he sought them out. (And Belarus he would rather just avoid altogether, really.)
Even Prussia, on occasions, would come around although he would never stay for very long. Though better suited to the cold than the other nations, Gilbert still couldn't stand it for too long.
So, for the most part, he was alone. And being so cold and so alone for so long was always very similar to death, wasn't it? So it wasn't surprising that for the most part, Ivan couldn't really recall a moment in the past few centuries where he didn't feel that, for all intents and purposes, he practically was. After all, the only way to be closer to it in his position shy of actually dying was to sleep.
Thus it goes without saying, the dark and mocking wonder of what it would be like for a nation to actually die - to just stop existing altogether and fade into history as if it had never been there to start with, would sometimes wander through his mind. In a strange way it was a warmer thought than that of his fellow nations and his people. After all, it didn't seem as if any of them would really be able to say they didn't think it wasn't for the best.
In that way, it was understandable that night time was one of his favourite times of the "day," so to speak. And as he settled into bed for the night, the tears frozen long before they ever fell by the unforgiving cold of the snow that frequented his lands even if he were one to cry to begin with, he could fall into a relatively peaceful, comfortingly dreamless sleep.