Hetalia- Apophasis: 1/?
Apophasis, v.; affirming something by denying it.
The title might be subject to change, but ah well. Anyhoo, this is a pretty depressing fic. Just a warning.
...why do I take Hetalia so seriously it's meant to be a comedy OTL
Some days, Antonio thought, were just not worth waking up to. The start of the end of his world happened to be one of those days.
Stumbling over yet another charred piece of debris and brushing himself free of soot, the Spaniard vaguely wondered what had warranted such an attack on a neutral country. With a single glance at the sky, he remembered that he wasn't kidding anyone about his 'neutrality'-not that there was anyone to kid, now that this whole mess had happened.
“Dios mio.”
Coughing into the crook of his arm, he calmly took note of the damage. One minor injury to the forehead-Pamplona hadn't taken the brunt of the attack, that much was certain, but it still stung somewhat-and another to the right leg. Antonio bent to examine it, lightly brushing his fingers over the burn; he winced, surprised at the pain the simple touch had brought. Well, he mused to himself, this might be a problem.
Disorientation is a nasty thing for a Nation in a state of crisis. Not being able to tell the amount of the damage is substantially worse.
With a sharp intake of breath, Antonio brought himself back to his feet. He wondered mildly if Alvaro was alright, if this had affected him, too, but then assured himself his brother would be fine. He had seen worse. Or had he? It was difficult to remember these sort of things when his heart seemed to be surging frantically in his chest. He listened to the blurring, pounding sound in his ears, pausing only to stare blankly at the stream of smoke that blew from his mouth and curled calmly into the air to join the thick smog that had settled upon the country of Spain.
Antonio wondered, not for the first time in the past few years, if this entire war had just been an overly elaborate dream. Perhaps he would be able to close his eyes for a moment, gasp sharply, and wake up to see that dear tomato-red face beside him, gold-brown eyes attempting to mask concern with aggravation. His name would be cursed without malice but love, and he would entwine their fingers, and he would laugh, and perhaps Lovi would join in, and the way he had lived would continue as it always had, with the Spanish sun pouring in through the windows as it had for countless years.
He attempted waking only to be sorely disappointed.
The smile fell from his face and in his anger, he kicked over a potted plant with his good leg. The pot shrieked as it smashed into a hundred fragments, spilling soil across the cobblestone floor. The tomato that had been hanging loosely from its stem fell and splattered by Antonio's feet.
Antonio stared at the broken plant for what seemed like hours before bending to fruitlessly scoop the dislodged soil back into the remains of the pot. His hands fell, useless, to his sides when he realized he was, again, trying to trick his own mind into thinking fixing a piece of pottery would be fixing the world.
Antonio then proceeded to ease himself into a sitting position, where he rested his head on his knees and foolishly attempted to will his soot-covered, smog-skied country back to sunshine.
A/N: Whoooosh. This fic is a real downer. Sorry guys. Maybe I should've written something a little more positive for my first fic, huh? Poor Spain. I'm so horrible to my favourite characters. :D
The end of the world has always interested me in a sense, I guess. I like to think about how different people from different cultures, personalities, etc. would deal with it. (I'm such a sick person ahaha!) Hetalia is my current fandom, and the characters from it have (obviously) distinct characteristics and cultures. Therefore it is my victim subject for this plotline.
lol some hints of Spamano in there. It's definitely my OTP, but my apologies to readers who don't like the pairing. It'll pop up again later, so...tough noodles, I guess.
Also, yes, I fail at writing, but constructive criticism would be greatly appreciated to help improve? ;u;
The title might be subject to change, but ah well. Anyhoo, this is a pretty depressing fic. Just a warning.
...why do I take Hetalia so seriously it's meant to be a comedy OTL
Some days, Antonio thought, were just not worth waking up to. The start of the end of his world happened to be one of those days.
Stumbling over yet another charred piece of debris and brushing himself free of soot, the Spaniard vaguely wondered what had warranted such an attack on a neutral country. With a single glance at the sky, he remembered that he wasn't kidding anyone about his 'neutrality'-not that there was anyone to kid, now that this whole mess had happened.
“Dios mio.”
Coughing into the crook of his arm, he calmly took note of the damage. One minor injury to the forehead-Pamplona hadn't taken the brunt of the attack, that much was certain, but it still stung somewhat-and another to the right leg. Antonio bent to examine it, lightly brushing his fingers over the burn; he winced, surprised at the pain the simple touch had brought. Well, he mused to himself, this might be a problem.
Disorientation is a nasty thing for a Nation in a state of crisis. Not being able to tell the amount of the damage is substantially worse.
With a sharp intake of breath, Antonio brought himself back to his feet. He wondered mildly if Alvaro was alright, if this had affected him, too, but then assured himself his brother would be fine. He had seen worse. Or had he? It was difficult to remember these sort of things when his heart seemed to be surging frantically in his chest. He listened to the blurring, pounding sound in his ears, pausing only to stare blankly at the stream of smoke that blew from his mouth and curled calmly into the air to join the thick smog that had settled upon the country of Spain.
Antonio wondered, not for the first time in the past few years, if this entire war had just been an overly elaborate dream. Perhaps he would be able to close his eyes for a moment, gasp sharply, and wake up to see that dear tomato-red face beside him, gold-brown eyes attempting to mask concern with aggravation. His name would be cursed without malice but love, and he would entwine their fingers, and he would laugh, and perhaps Lovi would join in, and the way he had lived would continue as it always had, with the Spanish sun pouring in through the windows as it had for countless years.
He attempted waking only to be sorely disappointed.
The smile fell from his face and in his anger, he kicked over a potted plant with his good leg. The pot shrieked as it smashed into a hundred fragments, spilling soil across the cobblestone floor. The tomato that had been hanging loosely from its stem fell and splattered by Antonio's feet.
Antonio stared at the broken plant for what seemed like hours before bending to fruitlessly scoop the dislodged soil back into the remains of the pot. His hands fell, useless, to his sides when he realized he was, again, trying to trick his own mind into thinking fixing a piece of pottery would be fixing the world.
Antonio then proceeded to ease himself into a sitting position, where he rested his head on his knees and foolishly attempted to will his soot-covered, smog-skied country back to sunshine.
A/N: Whoooosh. This fic is a real downer. Sorry guys. Maybe I should've written something a little more positive for my first fic, huh? Poor Spain. I'm so horrible to my favourite characters. :D
The end of the world has always interested me in a sense, I guess. I like to think about how different people from different cultures, personalities, etc. would deal with it. (I'm such a sick person ahaha!) Hetalia is my current fandom, and the characters from it have (obviously) distinct characteristics and cultures. Therefore it is my victim subject for this plotline.
lol some hints of Spamano in there. It's definitely my OTP, but my apologies to readers who don't like the pairing. It'll pop up again later, so...tough noodles, I guess.
Also, yes, I fail at writing, but constructive criticism would be greatly appreciated to help improve? ;u;