kinda bummed that between my tablet not working right and some anxiety-induced art block i’m missing out on most of @hetalia-polyship-week - so consider this dnd!au a very loose interpretation of the fairy tale prompt for day 4. i would have done something more fitting but this had already been a wip for like 2 weeks so i just wanted to get it done lol
they’re all tuckered out from adventuring and fell asleep in the tavern before they could even get to their room
Here comes the Immigration Trio! Lithuania, Ireland and Romano will be living under America’s roof until they can all get back onto their feet.
Lithuania does most of the administration work, being the sensible leader of a pair of near incompetent co-workers. Ireland does most of the grunt work around the place, a suitable job for a feckin’ eegit. Finally, we have the hot tempered main chef Romano, who’s gonna make sure that these idiots are fed good food, damn it.
the amount of stress I felt when I realized esc is in like two weeks and I haven’t listened to a single song nor made a single drawing yet hhhh,,,, anyway here’s liet in the silver glitter dress because I like the song as well
Also yeah he turned out kinda buff dfsdsfs idk what I did there ahah
Lithuania has changed since the last time Poland saw him.
Feliks shoved his way through the busy hall, pushing aside nations chatting with one another. This season’s conference was busy with talk about newly freed nations making their first appearance in decades. He was jittering with nerves; what if Viktoras didn’t forgive him? They hadn’t seen each other all those years, how could Feliks know if he still felt the same-
There he was in the corner of the room: his Lithuania, trapped in conversation by a very excited America. Poland rushed forward, grabbed Alfred by the collar, and yanked him off to the side. Viktoras finally noticed Feliks, and his eyes widened. He was thin and tired looking, with dark circles under his dull green eyes, but Feliks was still breathless at the sight of him. Before Viktoras could react, Feliks flung his arms around him and pulled him into a crushing hug.
“Oh, Liet!” Poland burst into tears as Lithuania tightened his embrace. Even after all he went through, Feliks still felt as warm and safe as he always did in Viktoras’ arms. Poland pulled away for a moment and looked up at Lithuania. “Can we- Do you still want to…” Feliks didn’t have to finish his question. Viktoras cupped Feliks’ face in his warm, rough hands and pressed their lips together. The chatter of the surrounding nations faded away as Poland and Lithuania united for the first time since the War tore them from each other. They didn’t care that they had an audience; that wasn’t important. All that mattered was them, together at last.
They pulled away after what felt like an eternity. Feliks rested his hands on Viktoras’ hips and Viktoras played idly with the hair framing Feliks’ face, such a familiar action he hadn’t been able to do in years. “You’re beautiful,” sighed Poland.
“I look like garbage, Po. You’re the beautiful one.” A dreamy smile spread across Lithuania’s face, and he gave Poland another quick kiss. “How is everyone?” he asked. “I read the news, but I’ve missed everyone. I missed you.”
America cleared his throat. “We’re doing fine. We’re alldoing fine.” He gestured behind him, and Feliks and Viktoras finally noticed the crowd they had gathered. They looked back at each other and fell into laughter. There they were, surrounded by friends and enemies past and present after half a century apart, and it felt like no time had passed at all.
“Come sit with me.” Feliks took Viktoras by the hand to lead him into the conference room and nestled against his side as they walked away from the other nations.
——-
Lithuania was busy helping his government and citizens adjust to their independence, but after a few months he was comfortable leaving his people for a few weeks to stay with Poland. He showed up at Feliks’ doorstep dressed in his nicest, ugliest sweater vest with a bouquet of red and white carnations, poppies, and rue in hand. He stood there for a moment before wiping the sweat from his palm and ringing the doorbell. Feliks swung the door open and beamed at Viktoras. “Come inside, baby,” said Feliks. “I made medaus tortas for you.” He took the bouquet from Lithuania and stretched up on his tiptoes to kiss him. “The flowers are a nice touch.”
“I’m glad you like them. I didn’t know what else I was supposed to bring,” replied Viktoras with a sheepish smile. “They don’t make a card for reuniting with your estranged lover after fifty-something years.”
“All you had to bring was yourself, Liet. I still have all your stuff- oh, and I got you some new clothes too, since yours are totally outdated. Come on, I’ll show you.” Poland wrapped his arm around Lithuania’s back to usher him inside, eliciting a small flinch. Poland looked up at him concernedly. “Are you okay?”
“I’m fine. Just nerves, I guess. How about that cake?”
Feliks lead him into the kitchen. “Here, sit down and I’ll get plates and all that out. Let me play housewife for you.” He pulled out a chair and began going through the cabinets. “I’ve rearranged a few times since you were last here, but I think I put everything back where it was so you can find it. Here.” He set a plate and fork down in front of Viktoras, then took the medaus tortas from the fridge and set it on the table. “Big slice or little slice?”
“Just a little slice.”
Poland clicked his tongue as he served Lithuania a thick slice of cake before serving himself and taking a seat. “You need to eat more. You got too skinny at his house.” Feliks took a bite of his cake while Viktoras picked at his in silence. “Liet, spill. You’re really weirding me out here with this whole not-talking thing.”
Viktoras sighed and set down his fork. “I’m just tired,” he explained. “It’s been rough for all of us, you know that. I’m not used to all this.” He gestured to the table in front of him. “Sitting down, having cake, spending time with you again- It’s going to take a while to get used to.”
“It’s going to get easier, I promise.” Feliks reached across the table and took Viktoras’ hands into his own. “You need to relax a little, baby. Let me take care of you.”
“I don’t deserve you, mano meile.” Lithuania gave Poland’s hands a quick squeeze before pulling away, but knocked his plate off the little kitchen table as he did. “Shit!” The plate shattered on the tile and shot shards of ceramic across the floor. Viktoras jumped out of his chair and dropped down to start picking up the broken pieces. “I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to- ow!” He let the shards fall from his hands and turned his palm up; he had sliced open his hand.
Feliks squatted on the floor with Viktoras and took his hand. “Liet, chill, it’s just a plate,“ he assured him. “I’ll get it. Sit back down and I’ll get the first aid kit, okay?” Viktoras silently nodded and took his seat. Feliks disappeared from the kitchen before returning with some bandages and ointment. “Let me see.”
Lithuania stuck his hand out across the table, his gaze locked on the shattered plate at his feet. Poland made quick work of cleaning him up, deftly wrapping gauze around the palm of his hand. “Remember when you did this for me?” he asked as he taped the gauze in place.
“Which time?”
“I think it was after we first got married. We were playing with our swords- real swords, because we were stupid kids- and you got me across the arm. I would’ve been totally fine in a few minutes anyways, but you threw me over your shoulder and took me inside to get me fixed up. You smeared honey on me and everything.”
“Yeah, and you…” Viktoras began to smile and a soft blush crept across his cheeks. “Um. You licked the honey off my fingers when I was done.”
“Bet you didn’t expect that from the shy little blond boy you met at the altar, did you?”
“You’re lucky I didn’t know what I was getting into!” Lithuania laughed and leaned back in his chair, stretching up to crack his back. “I’m sorry about your plate. I’ll buy you a new one.”
Poland rolled his eyes. “Liet, it’s a plate. Why don’t you hang out in the living room while I clean up in here? I’ll make coffee- black, right?”
Lithuania nodded. “I love you, Feliks.”
“I love you too. Go relax for a bit, I’ll be in soon.”
——-
While he stayed in Poland’s home, Lithuania was constantly looking over his shoulder, keeping his eyes on doorways and startling at any sudden noise. He would wake up suddenly in a sweat- if he slept at all. Poland had seen what happened to human men when they came home from war- and Lithuania had been through a war of his own. If Feliks touched his back, Viktoras would jump like he’d been electrocuted. He refused to undress around Feliks, and they hadn’t been “together” since they reunited. Every time Poland brought it up, Lithuania complained of a stomach ache.
Feliks and Viktoras laid in bed facing each other; despite having spent the last few weeks together as well as several centuries together before that, the whole experience still felt incredibly novel. Feliks gently traced down the front of Viktoras’ shirt, gazing shyly at him with half lidded eyes. “I know you’re tired, but do you maybe want to… you know…” He trailed off; Feliks was always surprisingly shy when it came to the actual act. “I miss being with you.”
“I don’t feel good, sweetheart,” replied Viktoras. “I just want to lay down for a while.” He went to turn away but Feliks grabbed him by the shoulder and sat them both up.
“Liet, stop. It’s been three weeks and we haven’t had sex once since you came here. I don’t mind- I don’t want to make you do anything you don’t want to do- but I know there’s something bothering you more than a stomach ache. You won’t even take off your socks around me. What gives?”
Lithuania frowned and scratched awkwardly at his collar. “It’s not that I don’t want to, Po. I really, really do, but I just don’t want you to see me,” he confessed. “I don’t look like I used to before the war.”
“The war messed us all up. You don’t have to feel bad about looking different. Did you know I found a grey hair a few weeks ago?” As if to prove his point, Poland shook his head, giving Lithuania a faint whiff of his strawberry shampoo.
“It’s more than a grey hair. I don’t want to scare you.”
“You could never scare me, Liet. Show me.”
Viktoras sighed in resignation and faced away from Feliks before pulling off his shirt, revealing his bare back.
“Jesus Christ.” Thick, jagged scar tissue twisted across Lithuania’s back like vines, crossing and overlapping in what must have been decades worth of torture. Some of the scars had faded to the soft tan of their surrounding skin, but others remained deep violet slashes still in the early phases of healing. Feliks slowly came closer to Viktoras and reached out to touch him, his hand hovering over the marred surface. “Can I…?”
“You can touch me, love.”
Feliks traced a particularly long scar with one delicate finger, eliciting a shudder from Viktoras. He quickly pulled his hand away. “Does that hurt?” he asked.
“A little. Some parts are numb,” Lithuania explained. “Which I guess helped after a while. I didn’t feel it as much when he hit me.”
Poland’s worry quickly morphed into fury. “I’m killing Ivan the next time I see him.” He tugged on Lithuania to turn around and pulled him into a tight embrace, burying his face into his neck. “I’m never letting him hurt you again,” he mumbled.
Lithuania smiled weakly and hugged Poland in return. “I know you won’t, and I won’t let him hurt you, either. We’re safe now. We’re free.”
“I can’t believe you thought I’d be grossed out by that. I’m not that shallow, am I?”
“No, it’s not your fault. I just feel like I’m damaged. It’s an ugly, painful reminder of what he did to me.”
“Stop. Look at me.” Feliks pulled away from Viktoras and stripped off his shirt as well, tossing it onto the floor. “Do you see this one, down my right side? It’s from when they took you away from me. It matches the one you have on your left.“ He pointed to the mirrored scar running down Viktoras’ ribs.
"And this one here on my arm is from when you got me with that sword. Remember talking about it on your first day here?” Poland paused for a moment as a wistful smile crossed his face. “That’s when I realized I really loved you.” He gestured next to his midsection.
“This lovely bullet hole on my stomach is from when those assholes invaded me at the start of the war, and the one over my heart is- well, you know. Am I ugly? Am I damaged? Does me being stabbed and shot and cut apart make you love me any less?”
Lithuania shook his head, a panicked look on his face. “No! You’re perfect. It makes me love you even more.”
“So why would I love you less for what happened to you? Nothing could change how much I love you, Liet. You’re mine, forever and always. Remember what we said?“ He took Viktoras’ hands into his own and the two locked eyes as Feliks began to speak again in a solemn tone.
"’I take you to be my husband and my spouse and I pledge to you the faith of my body, that I will be faithful to you and loyal with my body and my goods, and that I will keep you in sickness and in health and in whatever condition it will please the Lord to place you, and that I shall not exchange you for better or worse until the end.’ Until the end, Viktoras.”
By the time Feliks was done speaking, tears were falling down Viktoras’ cheeks. He laughed a little as Feliks reached forward to swipe the tears from his face. “I didn’t know what our vows said for months after we got married and my Polish teacher translated them for me,” he admitted. “But I didn’t need to understand the words to know what it meant when you slipped a ring onto my finger and kissed me.” Viktoras fell silent for a moment. “I wish I could give you what you want, mano meile.”
Feliks smiled and gave Viktoras a quick kiss. "If you don’t want me to touch you, that’s okay. Just being here with you is enough. But I need you to know that I love you and you’ll always be beautiful to me, no matter what.”
“I know, Feliks.”
For the first time in a very long time, Viktoras slept through the night.
