lovino wants to tell him it isn't germany
title: only devils have ears
author: konbini @ rihiten
fandom: axis powers hetalia
characters/pairings: north italy, south italy, mentions of germany, spain, the vatican
words: 957
rating/warnings: character names, romano's distaste for protestants, biblical references? are these even warnings.
summary: Veneziano and Romano hide. Germany bombs the Vatican. Somewhat inspired by this fill from the kink meme.
A dull morning in Rome is like any other: a gray blanket over the city, touching the spires and domes that were familiar with them, and the echoes of the bell that the Vatican rings are as resonating as they will ever be. It reminds Lovino of the weather in London, not that the memory of the place strikes him as vivid, but he recalls a bicycle soiling his coat with a puddle of rainwater and he could have sworn it was Arthur. Damn Protestants.
It is morning but the birds stop singing, soldiers are whisked away from their lovers and the obelisk in St. Peter's Square casts no shadows; the smoke does that. Smoke and clouds and darkness that doesn't fade when the sun rises. (Is it just as dark where Kiku fights?) The sun rises: Signore Vaticano sounds the bell for the morning Mass yet no one comes. Mothers do not call for their children anymore because they never leave.
The brothers hear gunshots. (Lord, have mercy.)
Run. Where the hell was Antonio when you needed him? Trigger, scream. Heil. It is not Gilbert out there taking land and taking lives, the brothers know. It is not like Ludwig to shoot at them, or so Feliciano thinks. It's the British, he swears it is.
They stop at a church's entrance, their backs rest on the wooden doors. They catch their breath.
"Did you get the money?"
"Under the statue of Our Lady."
"I told you he'd never look there. Ave Maria."
"Your arm."
"The bastard's aim's getting better."
"Don't say that, Ludwig didn't-"
"Are you fucking blind? Didn't you see what happened back there? The guy tried to kill me!" Lovino is exasperated. "He tried to fucking kill me, and I'm damn lucky that son of a bitch missed-"
"Shh," Feliciano hushes him as he steals a glance at the crucifix.
God can't hear me, Lovino reasons. He's seen the old man Vatican try to make Him listen and He never does. He turns his back on the cross and clutches the wound on his right shoulder - it won't stop bleeding. Damn Protestants.
As they enter the old church, his brother staggers. He cringes, has one hand on the door, another on his stomach, fingers drenched in red. That fucker.
"Feliciano-"
"Shh."
Goddamn Protestants.
They walk further into the church, Lovino supporting his brother's weight as they pass by the stations of the cross, left, right, left. The march turns into a dragging motion after the first few steps. Little light makes its way through the cracks and crevices in the marble ceiling. Soft rays shine before their feet, on the frescoes, across the face of His one and only Son.
The brothers rest near the steps; all the pews are broken. Lovino finds himself unable to do anything about Feliciano, he's no medic. "I'm all right," he assures him before he winces and holds his side. The Virgin Mary watches over them and does nothing more.
Light through the stained glass is dim, colors the pillars with blush. Any brighter and the room would have lit up with shapes of rubies, emeralds and sapphires. Lovino remembers those colors when the morning sun would hit their faces just right. On those days, Grandfather used to pull the drapes open and say wake up. Wake up, God is smiling upon us. Gloria in excelsis Deo, they would sing together. Hand in hand, he and Feliciano and Grandfather. It is all captured in a mural his brother painted in some forgotten chapel not far from the capital. It remains there, just there, buried in centuries of earth and rubble. So is Grandfather, under ruins, Pompeii. From ashes to ashes.
Thundering shakes the ground beneath. Il Vaticano. (Christ, have mercy.) Lovino's hold on his shoulder tightens, his jaws clenched. Images of San Lorenzo keep on coming back. Feliciano is huddled next to his brother, has his hands clasped together, whispering his prayers into the tiny space between his palms. Padre, perdona loro perché non sanno quello che fanno. Even in war, Feliciano is too kind.
Feliciano's hands are intertwined with his rosary, (you still have that?) the first large bead in between his fingertips, now stained wine, as he recites Pater Noster. Our Father, save us from the fires of-
We're already in hell, Lovino does not spit at the gap between his heels. Only devils have ears.
Feliciano tries not to mind the pain - nations don't die so easily - and Lovino is too tired to reprimand his brother: shut up, Christ, before the Nazis find us. You. (Lord, have mercy.)
Stained glass windows shine red, yellow, red. You. You said you'd save me, so come save me, dammit. But Antonio - where was he? Where was He? The communion of saints, the forgiveness of sins, the resurrection of the body and life everlasting - were there still such things in 1943? Amen, Lovino hears his brother sob softly into his sleeve, amen. As Feliciano holds on and believes in the Father Almighty, Lovino shakes from holding back his own tears.
Eli, Eli, lama sabachthani?
Jupiter hurls another thunderbolt at Rome (were they really the descendants of Mars?) and Feliciano covers his ears. A rat scurries back into the woodwork before it sees a flash of lightning tear the heavens in two. Lovino wants to tell him it isn't Germany, but he doesn't know that. He's scared.
That sound - bullets? No, they are softer, on the rooftops.
A bead of water lands on Lovino's forehead, rolls down his wounds. It doesn't sting. Feliciano turns his attention to the piece of sky above them and holds a hand out to catch the drops.
"Look, brother," he tells him. "The angels are crying."
Luke 23:34 La Nuova Diodati. Father, forgive them, for they do not know what they do.
Matthew 27:46. My God, my God, why have you forsaken me?
Other Catholic things I'm too lazy to link to.
Bombing of Rome in WWII. Have a short blog post and some pictures. San Lorenzo fuori le Mura was bombed by the Allies in 1943.
It was believed that the founder of Rome, Romulus, was a child of Mars, and all Romans were his descendants.
Did I go overboard with the religious. Things? dksfj
author: konbini @ rihiten
fandom: axis powers hetalia
characters/pairings: north italy, south italy, mentions of germany, spain, the vatican
words: 957
rating/warnings: character names, romano's distaste for protestants, biblical references? are these even warnings.
summary: Veneziano and Romano hide. Germany bombs the Vatican. Somewhat inspired by this fill from the kink meme.
A dull morning in Rome is like any other: a gray blanket over the city, touching the spires and domes that were familiar with them, and the echoes of the bell that the Vatican rings are as resonating as they will ever be. It reminds Lovino of the weather in London, not that the memory of the place strikes him as vivid, but he recalls a bicycle soiling his coat with a puddle of rainwater and he could have sworn it was Arthur. Damn Protestants.
It is morning but the birds stop singing, soldiers are whisked away from their lovers and the obelisk in St. Peter's Square casts no shadows; the smoke does that. Smoke and clouds and darkness that doesn't fade when the sun rises. (Is it just as dark where Kiku fights?) The sun rises: Signore Vaticano sounds the bell for the morning Mass yet no one comes. Mothers do not call for their children anymore because they never leave.
The brothers hear gunshots. (Lord, have mercy.)
Run. Where the hell was Antonio when you needed him? Trigger, scream. Heil. It is not Gilbert out there taking land and taking lives, the brothers know. It is not like Ludwig to shoot at them, or so Feliciano thinks. It's the British, he swears it is.
They stop at a church's entrance, their backs rest on the wooden doors. They catch their breath.
"Did you get the money?"
"Under the statue of Our Lady."
"I told you he'd never look there. Ave Maria."
"Your arm."
"The bastard's aim's getting better."
"Don't say that, Ludwig didn't-"
"Are you fucking blind? Didn't you see what happened back there? The guy tried to kill me!" Lovino is exasperated. "He tried to fucking kill me, and I'm damn lucky that son of a bitch missed-"
"Shh," Feliciano hushes him as he steals a glance at the crucifix.
God can't hear me, Lovino reasons. He's seen the old man Vatican try to make Him listen and He never does. He turns his back on the cross and clutches the wound on his right shoulder - it won't stop bleeding. Damn Protestants.
As they enter the old church, his brother staggers. He cringes, has one hand on the door, another on his stomach, fingers drenched in red. That fucker.
"Feliciano-"
"Shh."
Goddamn Protestants.
They walk further into the church, Lovino supporting his brother's weight as they pass by the stations of the cross, left, right, left. The march turns into a dragging motion after the first few steps. Little light makes its way through the cracks and crevices in the marble ceiling. Soft rays shine before their feet, on the frescoes, across the face of His one and only Son.
The brothers rest near the steps; all the pews are broken. Lovino finds himself unable to do anything about Feliciano, he's no medic. "I'm all right," he assures him before he winces and holds his side. The Virgin Mary watches over them and does nothing more.
Light through the stained glass is dim, colors the pillars with blush. Any brighter and the room would have lit up with shapes of rubies, emeralds and sapphires. Lovino remembers those colors when the morning sun would hit their faces just right. On those days, Grandfather used to pull the drapes open and say wake up. Wake up, God is smiling upon us. Gloria in excelsis Deo, they would sing together. Hand in hand, he and Feliciano and Grandfather. It is all captured in a mural his brother painted in some forgotten chapel not far from the capital. It remains there, just there, buried in centuries of earth and rubble. So is Grandfather, under ruins, Pompeii. From ashes to ashes.
Thundering shakes the ground beneath. Il Vaticano. (Christ, have mercy.) Lovino's hold on his shoulder tightens, his jaws clenched. Images of San Lorenzo keep on coming back. Feliciano is huddled next to his brother, has his hands clasped together, whispering his prayers into the tiny space between his palms. Padre, perdona loro perché non sanno quello che fanno. Even in war, Feliciano is too kind.
Feliciano's hands are intertwined with his rosary, (you still have that?) the first large bead in between his fingertips, now stained wine, as he recites Pater Noster. Our Father, save us from the fires of-
We're already in hell, Lovino does not spit at the gap between his heels. Only devils have ears.
Feliciano tries not to mind the pain - nations don't die so easily - and Lovino is too tired to reprimand his brother: shut up, Christ, before the Nazis find us. You. (Lord, have mercy.)
Stained glass windows shine red, yellow, red. You. You said you'd save me, so come save me, dammit. But Antonio - where was he? Where was He? The communion of saints, the forgiveness of sins, the resurrection of the body and life everlasting - were there still such things in 1943? Amen, Lovino hears his brother sob softly into his sleeve, amen. As Feliciano holds on and believes in the Father Almighty, Lovino shakes from holding back his own tears.
Eli, Eli, lama sabachthani?
Jupiter hurls another thunderbolt at Rome (were they really the descendants of Mars?) and Feliciano covers his ears. A rat scurries back into the woodwork before it sees a flash of lightning tear the heavens in two. Lovino wants to tell him it isn't Germany, but he doesn't know that. He's scared.
That sound - bullets? No, they are softer, on the rooftops.
A bead of water lands on Lovino's forehead, rolls down his wounds. It doesn't sting. Feliciano turns his attention to the piece of sky above them and holds a hand out to catch the drops.
"Look, brother," he tells him. "The angels are crying."
Luke 23:34 La Nuova Diodati. Father, forgive them, for they do not know what they do.
Matthew 27:46. My God, my God, why have you forsaken me?
Other Catholic things I'm too lazy to link to.
Bombing of Rome in WWII. Have a short blog post and some pictures. San Lorenzo fuori le Mura was bombed by the Allies in 1943.
It was believed that the founder of Rome, Romulus, was a child of Mars, and all Romans were his descendants.
Did I go overboard with the religious. Things? dksfj