#should i tag seborga and piedmont? theyre mentioend

[urmomsstuntdouble]

for the writing requests ask: what about something about the italian reunification? it’s very interesting because the initiative to unify the nation came from the north, and people from the south weren’t exactly thrilled. I think there’s a lot of fun stuff to unpack for veneziano and romano as nations and as characters!

i can, yes! im sorry this took me so long to write, i was honestly really short on ideas, and im trying to focus a bit more on my schoolwork lately. but here ya go! 

bit of a cw for derogatory language? idk lovino (which is what i call him in this) refers to himself with in a negative way

its strange, how he looks at lovino. his eyes are hungry, and not approving. its almost as if he doens’t understand how antonio’s whore could possibly understand politics. as if the face he looks upon is too indolent to see beyond the walls of his own bed chambers, yet also as though lovino held the secrets of the universe within his mind. desire, perhaps. 

there is talk of revolution in the north. it excites them both, as revolutions are wont to do. there is a sick thrill to it- who lives and who dies, who gets stronger and whose pages in the history books are numbered. lovino also assumes- prays- that it will not be him to fall. he might feel the same about the rest of his brothers and sisters. he can’t tell. he doesn’t want to be left alone, but god, he couldn’t spend forever with these people. feliciano and sebastian and enzo...if only the war could spare them and likewise prevent them from meeting ever again. 

feliciano seemed a bit taller lately, his hair thicker. perhaps it was due to his victory, or a good fishing season. eating lots of fish could do that to your hair. lovino thinks nothing of it, and hopes that the good fortune remains. ever faint though it is, they are all italy, and all their hearts do beat as one. from time to time. can feliciano feel his- their- reticence?  

when you were snatched away from home, all you could think was death. the man would shoot you or stab you or take you away somewhere, and nobody would know. maybe you wish he would. but then you see your brother, and oh. he’s you, you’re him, and you have both lived. three minutes pass before either of you speaks, and you know because that’s how long it takes for another heartbeat. you’re used to a slow heart, and you’re plenty quick on little blood, but this time it hurts. 

your brother clutches at his chest, and you stumble. you catch each other and hold each other tight as a searing pain flashes in your chests. this doesnt feel like im dying you think. i should be dying. but i’m not. it’s not your time to die. feliciano clings to you, his fingers bunching in your coat. you can’t- you can’t you can’t you can’t you can-

you are italy, and you must.