[ I FINALLY MANAGE TO WRITE SOMETHING~! :D I'm sooo sorry everybody for the lack of updates/stories!
This is a fanfiction about 2P Italy for Ask2p-Italy on deviantART, based on one of the answers. I suggest you go check that account out! :D
I'm going to try and describe things in here the best I can. This is AU, it is not based off of historical facts. It may be about war, but it is not historical. It is completely engulfed in an alternate universe.
Mmkay~ Less Than Three. Please enjoy.
Prepare for a slightly different version of writing than you usually see from me.
Warnings: Eye gouging, different variation of 2P Italy, stuff.
Edit: I am making minor edits in here, and adding a few thank-yous at the end. ]
His throat was dry, his eyes wide. What had happened? He was on the verge of victory just hours earlier. They were so close. His hopes of freedom were dashed, thrown into the mud with his fallen soldiers.
This shouldn't have happened. He had an ally. They were supposed to help him win. Instead, they left him in the end and he was overpowered.
Betrayal. That's what it was. He trusted them with his life; yet at the very end, all of the allied soldiers retreated, leaving him at a high disadvantage.
The pang he was feeling was new. It was much more than shock, sorrow and despair. It was more intense; mixed with anger, regret, and confusion as well.
The emotion weighed him down; his chest was heavy. He used his remaining energy to stay on his feet. His brows furrowed and his eyes narrowed slightly as he attempted a glare to the leader of the opposing army. The other did not falter; he gave the same smug stare.
It soon became too much for him. He lost the feeling in his limbs and collapsed to his knees. His teeth bared as he leered to the other man. "What are you staring for? Just kill me already." He snapped. He had tried to sound dignified, but his voice had cracked.
The leader gave a lazy smirk, lolling his head to the side as if mockingly. "My, my; you're eager to die, aren't you?" He did not wait for a reply; rather, he walked up to the other and kneeled at front, much too close for his liking. "Where did your reason go? It's not like you to give up so easily."
"I don't have to explain myself to you.." He growled in response.
"Your reason... Freedom, was it? Ah, yes. You and your... followers wanted freedom." He paused, as if thinking, before a mocking smirk grazed his lips. "You're the only one left. I suppose I can grant you your freedom." There was no response. "Just realise this, Italia Veneziano. Your actions come with a price. With your decision of armed rebellion came betrayal. With your desire for freedom, many lives were lost. You will not leave this place unpunished." He lifted a hand, and before the Italian could react, the man pierced his finger into the nation's right eye, delving deeper. Veneziano lifted his hands in a feeble attempt to stop him. His arms froze in mid air, however, and dropped back down as he began to tremble. The man chuckled as he listened to Veneziano's whimpers and surpressed cries of pain.
"This is fair, is it not? Many innocent people- soldiers and citizens, women and children- lost their lives because of your selfish wish for freedom. A simple damaged eye doesn't even begin to atone for what you have done." Blood streamed down Italy's face from the wound inflicted by the man who was mercilessly gouging his eye. After several moments, he finally pulled his fingers out of the other's socket, standing up and shaking some of the blood off his hand. Veneziano brought his own hands up and grasped the right side of his face, a desperate yet pointless attempt to stop the pain. "Keep that as evidence of your loss." He grumbled, wiping the rest of the blood onto a handkerchief.
Veneziano gave up on trying to supress his emotions. Tears brimmed at the corners of his one good eye, then rolling down the side of his face. The man gave a slight smirk, throwing the bloodied handkerchief at the once strong Italian. "It looks like we've finally managed to break you." He laughed before turning and walking off, leaving the sobbing Italian alone.
Years had went by since then. Veneziano kept a disgustingly cheery personality in tact, but only as an act. Since the event that year, he had never been able to look at anybody the same again. He couldn't bring himself to like nor trust anybody.
He did form several alliances over the years, but none of his allies seemed trustworthy. In fact, not even his own brother could be trusted. His real emotions were bottling up, slowly eating away at his insides. He was losing sanity. He would just keep his act together for a little longer. He wouldn't allow himself to be betrayed again.
It was during the Second World War when he completely snapped.
[ This Authors Note is part of the edit.
This fanfiction is based off of this answer on deviantART: / fav . me/ d5lnv8j , which was made my my awesome new Aussie friend. ;w;
To my most common reviewers- you know who you are, as you review on almost all of my fanfictions- Thank you for sticking by me. Thank you for all your nice words. I look back on my old stories, I see the flaws, yet I see such nice reviews and amg ; v ; You are all much too nice. /)w(\ I'm truly flattered.
To everybody: It's thanks to all of you that I keep writing. Less than three you all~ *heart*]