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kinkfestTitle: Palpable Hit
Author:![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
daegaer
Fandom: Axis Powers Hetalia
Pairing: Lithuania/Poland
Warning: physical violence
Rating: PG-13
Word count: 2000
Prompt: Axis Powers Hetalia, Lithuania/Poland: bruising & scars as a turn-on - Liet used to be a Grand Duchy; it would take more than a couple of centuries with Russia to crush his spirit.
Summary: Lithuania can't resist talking back.
Note: Some of Russia's lines from the "Bloody Sunday" strip are quoted.
The first time Russia hits him, it's with the flat of his hand, a slap for insolence. It still knocks Lithuania back and jars his teeth together.
"I don't like your language," Russia says, mild as ever.
"Fuck you," Lithuania repeats, in Polish this time.
"I don't like his language either," Russia says, and slaps him again.
It really hurts. Lithuania's sure he's bitten his tongue. He takes a deep breath.
"Fuck you," he says in Russian.
"Better," Russia says. "Work in the stables till you can mind your mouth."
Lithuania staggers off. The horses are better company by far.
* * *
Lithuania speaks French. It's fashionable, and God forbid Poland ever missed out on a fashion. Today he's using it frequently, dancing in the streets of Vilnius, yelling, Vive l'Empereur! Vive Napoléon! Some of his people mutter that France's man is just a short fellow in a flashy coat, but over four centuries Lithuania's learned not to underestimate short men who love nice clothes.
When it all goes wrong, and Russia's standing over him, still blackened by the fires of Moscow, Lithuania grins cheekily.
"Think they'll still speak French at court?" he asks.
Russia's expression is almost worth what happens next.
* * *
It's not that Lithuania likes being hit, it's just he can't quite resist the expression Russia wears for the split second before the blow, the little moment of time when he thinks He really did say that, and the smile almost slips.
That has changed.
"I'm sorry," Russia says, "I didn't catch that." His hand rests on Latvia's head, large fingers stroking Latvia's hair.
Please, Estonia mouths behind Russia's back. Shut up.
"I didn't say anything," Lithuania says, and Russia lets Latvia scurry away to hide behind Estonia.
"What a lovely little brother you have," Russia smiles.
Lithuania stays silent.
* * *
"It's not my fault," Russia whispers. "It's not my fault."
Lithuania comes closer, the documents in his hand forgotten. Outside, Russia's people are rioting, demanding food and jobs. No one is doing well, and he feels a momentary sympathy for his overlord.
Russia wipes his eyes and smiles like a brave child. "We don't want children who can't play nicely, do we, Lithuania?" he says. He picks up a rifle. "Reload when I pass this to you."
"Russia," Lithuania says in horror.
Russia breaks the window-pane and starts shooting.
They are not his people, but Lithuania feels every impact.
* * *
Russia has changed. Something has broken in him, Lithuania thinks. He no longer answers insolence with a slap or threats. Now he hits out before a single word is said, a single glance intercepted. He uses whatever comes to hand; he slams Lithuania across the temple with a bottle of vodka, then beats him with a map pointer when the bottle drops and breaks. It takes days before Lithuania can see properly again, and the welts and bruises on his back heal agonisingly slowly.
The threatened war can't come soon enough, he thinks. It's about time someone else got beaten.
* * *
Russia denounces Lithuania as a counter-revolutionary, and beats him till he can barely stand. Lithuania spits a mouthful of blood, red onto the bourgeois Persian carpet and relishes the look of loss that briefly crosses Russia's face. Then he turns and walks out the door and doesn't stop walking till he reaches Vilnius.
I'm independent, he thinks, stopping as it hits him. I can do whatever I want. He goes home and washes, sits around for a while, unsure what happens next, then runs out, heading for Warsaw.
"What took you?" Poland says, rolling his eyes.
Lithuania can't stop smiling.
* * *
It's good, being with Poland again, but it's hard too. Lithuania has to walk like he's not in pain, not flinch when Poland links his arm and cuddles tight against him.
"You're totally tense," Poland says, squeezing Lithuania's shoulders. "Want a back-rub?"
"I'm fine," Lithuania says, managing not to gasp. "Could I use your bath?"
"Sure. Use up the bath salts."
Lithuania sinks into the hot water. He hears a noise once, but the door is closed when he looks. It's a relief not to have to protect Poland's sensibilities, just for a little while. He wouldn't understand the scars.
* * *
Lithuania is almost bankrupt. He weighs up his options and decides to emigrate. America doesn't seem like he's a bad person.
"It's, like, a long way," Poland says. "If I cut back on stuff I can totally help you out."
"I need to support myself," Lithuania says. "Thank you. You're a good friend."
"Whatev," Poland says, embarrassed.
They haven't gone to bed. They haven't done anything but kiss. Lithuania doesn't know how to deal with such a reticent, oddly reluctant Poland. He doesn't know if revealing the scars would make things worse.
He doesn't know how this got so complicated.
* * *
America is loud and brash, with all the optimism of the very young. He doesn't seem to know how to handle having staff, and half the time tries to do Lithuania's work for him. Lithuania likes him - when he says something rude it's youthful silliness, not honed with the malice of centuries.
America's cough at first seems negligible, but then the fever starts. Overnight, he's delirious but still working, making worse and worse decisions. It's clear he can't afford household staff any more and Lithuania reluctantly goes home.
By the time he reaches Europe, all his old neighbours are sick.
* * *
When Russia seizes Lithuania again he has gone, as Poland warned, totally batshit, dude. He uses whips to motivate his underlings to work. Lithuania tells him just once that The beatings will continue until morale improves is meant to be a joke. Russia smiles sweetly and raises the whip.
Lithuania comes round in his own bed with Estonia watching him, grimly drinking himself into a stupor.
"Why do I have such idiotic brothers?" Estonia asks God, or maybe just the mould-stain on the ceiling. He passes the bottle over.
"This too shall pass," Lithuania wheezes, and drains the bottle.
* * *
Afterwards, Lithuania tries not to remember the war, though it revisits him in dreams. Russia becomes stranger and stranger, and Lithuania watches his brothers retreat into silent terror. Latvia cannot be trusted with liquids or sharp objects any more, his hands tremble so. Estonia perfects the art of disappearing at the right moment, turning up again after the violence, all calm polite smiles and the slight whiff of vodka.
Lithuania never gets to vanish. He has too much work.
He has become adept at stealing all the letter openers on days he knows Russia won't like what the reports say.
* * *
After the war, Poland's views on the Allies' perfidy and the putative sexual preferences of Russia echo through the house till finally Russia wakes up, sobers up and decides to shut him up.
Lithuania stands, chastened and astonished, as Poland staggers up again, grabs some broken furniture as a weapon again, and breaks for freedom again. When he's finally dumped limply in the kitchens, Russia looks more exhausted than he expected.
"He's more of a man than you," he says, sweetly vicious.
"Thinks he's insulting us both," Poland slurs, when Russia's gone. "Let's kick his ass."
Lithuania decides he's right.
* * *
Russia has pronounced opinions, like Nations don't breed, therefore carnal behaviour isn't rational and Under communism, perversions don't exist.
"Pssst, Comrade," Poland says, pulling Lithuania into a closet. "I need to show you something under communism, and by communism I totally mean my underwear."
A few minutes of frantic kissing, hands inside each other's clothes isn't much, but it's warm and good, not greyly horrible like everything else. You still love me, Lithuania thinks. He holds Poland close, breathing in the scent of his hair.
"We're in the rye fields," he whispers. "We're free."
They both pretend they're not crying.
* * *
The Cold War's not much more fun than the hot one, but there is a certain satisfaction in seeing Russia realise that he has taken a bunch of troublemakers into his house.
Lithuania's never liked Prussia, but seeing him be obnoxious enough to set a vein throbbing in Russia's forehead is beautiful. Russia's eyelid twitches every time he comes across Poland in Hungary or Romania's clothes, and his smile drops away at Hungary's apparent never-ending supply of Austrian chocolate.
Russia slaps them all. They wait, politely silent, till he storms off.
The house rings with every language except Russian.
* * *
"Oh, hey, elections," Poland says, holding up a newspaper that until moments ago was in Russian. "Looks like my guy totally won. In honour of my new boss I, like, declare myself independent, yadda yadda." He grins at Lithuania. "Coming, Liet?"
Russia grips Lithuania's arm so tight it feels like it will break. "We must go to the office now," he says, ignoring Poland as if he no longer exists. "We have a lot of work."
Lithuania looks back as he's dragged away. Poland smiles ruefully, blows him a kiss.
Soon, he mouths.
Lithuania nods firmly. He's had enough.
Soon.
* * *
"Let's go for a walk," Lithuania says.
"W-w-where?" Latvia whispers.
"The seaside? I'll buy you icecream."
Latvia shivers, looking between Lithuania and the laundry he's meant to be doing. Fresh air and icecream win.
"Estonia?"
Estonia slowly sets his book aside. He takes Latvia's hand, grimly determined. They're at the door when Russia shows up.
"I won't let you go!" he says, and grabs Lithuania's arm, bracing one foot against the doorframe for leverage.
Estonia, outside, pulls as hard as he can, and Latvia frantically grabs on too. Lithuania tumbles out, landing on them in a heap.
Russia doesn't follow.
* * *
"I'm independent," Lithuania says, watching his brothers eat icecream. They stare at him, as if they've only just realised none of them are going back. "I can't say it for you," he says.
"I'm f-f-free?" Latvia says. The first real smile in a century spreads across his face. "I'm free!"
"Free!" Estonia yells, and pulls a half-bottle of Russian vodka from his jacket, flinging it far out into the Baltic Sea.
"I spent the last of my money on the icecream," Lithuania says. "If we want a celebratory toast -"
Laughing, they all run into the sea to retrieve the bottle.
* * *
"It's me again."
Lithuania always forgets how strong Poland really is, he thinks, finding himself dragged inside. Then he stops thinking, because Poland's hugging him, Poland's tongue is in his mouth. It's so much better than a stolen five minutes in the broom cupboard hoping Russia would stay away and Poland wouldn't wonder why the bulb was always missing.
He hisses as Poland squeezes his bruised arm. Poland rolls up his sleeve, puts his own fingers over the marks left by Russia's, pale against the dark. He kisses the bruises gently, slowly. Lithuania's shivers have nothing to do with cold.
* * *
He doesn't want to take off his clothes, but Poland eases him out, as if unwrapping a longed-for present. He kisses each bruise, traces each scar with the tip of his tongue. He's not surprised, Lithuania thinks, he's not disgusted.
"That one," he whispers as Poland works his way down one shoulder blade, "I said he couldn't love his sisters much if he caused famines in their territories."
"And this?" Poland murmurs, spending time on the marks on Lithuania's ribs.
"They're old," Lithuania gasps. "He didn't like me being pro-Napoleon." I'm being kissed better he thinks, surprised.
It's working.
* * *
Carefree sex is utterly familiar and something to be discovered all over again. Afterwards Poland snuggles in close, cocooning them in blankets.
"That was nice," he says, smug and satisfied.
"You knew about the scars," Lithuania says.
"I caught sight of them in 1918," Poland says. He traces a finger over one, light and tickling. "I was, like, stupidly embarrassed, Liet."
"So was I," Lithuania sighs.
"I'm sorry."
Poland presses his mouth to one again, and soon they are too happily busy for embarrassment.
In the morning when Lithuania looks in the mirror, all the marks have begun to fade.
Author:
daegaerFandom: Axis Powers Hetalia
Pairing: Lithuania/Poland
Warning: physical violence
Rating: PG-13
Word count: 2000
Prompt: Axis Powers Hetalia, Lithuania/Poland: bruising & scars as a turn-on - Liet used to be a Grand Duchy; it would take more than a couple of centuries with Russia to crush his spirit.
Summary: Lithuania can't resist talking back.
Note: Some of Russia's lines from the "Bloody Sunday" strip are quoted.
The first time Russia hits him, it's with the flat of his hand, a slap for insolence. It still knocks Lithuania back and jars his teeth together.
"I don't like your language," Russia says, mild as ever.
"Fuck you," Lithuania repeats, in Polish this time.
"I don't like his language either," Russia says, and slaps him again.
It really hurts. Lithuania's sure he's bitten his tongue. He takes a deep breath.
"Fuck you," he says in Russian.
"Better," Russia says. "Work in the stables till you can mind your mouth."
Lithuania staggers off. The horses are better company by far.
Lithuania speaks French. It's fashionable, and God forbid Poland ever missed out on a fashion. Today he's using it frequently, dancing in the streets of Vilnius, yelling, Vive l'Empereur! Vive Napoléon! Some of his people mutter that France's man is just a short fellow in a flashy coat, but over four centuries Lithuania's learned not to underestimate short men who love nice clothes.
When it all goes wrong, and Russia's standing over him, still blackened by the fires of Moscow, Lithuania grins cheekily.
"Think they'll still speak French at court?" he asks.
Russia's expression is almost worth what happens next.
It's not that Lithuania likes being hit, it's just he can't quite resist the expression Russia wears for the split second before the blow, the little moment of time when he thinks He really did say that, and the smile almost slips.
That has changed.
"I'm sorry," Russia says, "I didn't catch that." His hand rests on Latvia's head, large fingers stroking Latvia's hair.
Please, Estonia mouths behind Russia's back. Shut up.
"I didn't say anything," Lithuania says, and Russia lets Latvia scurry away to hide behind Estonia.
"What a lovely little brother you have," Russia smiles.
Lithuania stays silent.
"It's not my fault," Russia whispers. "It's not my fault."
Lithuania comes closer, the documents in his hand forgotten. Outside, Russia's people are rioting, demanding food and jobs. No one is doing well, and he feels a momentary sympathy for his overlord.
Russia wipes his eyes and smiles like a brave child. "We don't want children who can't play nicely, do we, Lithuania?" he says. He picks up a rifle. "Reload when I pass this to you."
"Russia," Lithuania says in horror.
Russia breaks the window-pane and starts shooting.
They are not his people, but Lithuania feels every impact.
Russia has changed. Something has broken in him, Lithuania thinks. He no longer answers insolence with a slap or threats. Now he hits out before a single word is said, a single glance intercepted. He uses whatever comes to hand; he slams Lithuania across the temple with a bottle of vodka, then beats him with a map pointer when the bottle drops and breaks. It takes days before Lithuania can see properly again, and the welts and bruises on his back heal agonisingly slowly.
The threatened war can't come soon enough, he thinks. It's about time someone else got beaten.
Russia denounces Lithuania as a counter-revolutionary, and beats him till he can barely stand. Lithuania spits a mouthful of blood, red onto the bourgeois Persian carpet and relishes the look of loss that briefly crosses Russia's face. Then he turns and walks out the door and doesn't stop walking till he reaches Vilnius.
I'm independent, he thinks, stopping as it hits him. I can do whatever I want. He goes home and washes, sits around for a while, unsure what happens next, then runs out, heading for Warsaw.
"What took you?" Poland says, rolling his eyes.
Lithuania can't stop smiling.
It's good, being with Poland again, but it's hard too. Lithuania has to walk like he's not in pain, not flinch when Poland links his arm and cuddles tight against him.
"You're totally tense," Poland says, squeezing Lithuania's shoulders. "Want a back-rub?"
"I'm fine," Lithuania says, managing not to gasp. "Could I use your bath?"
"Sure. Use up the bath salts."
Lithuania sinks into the hot water. He hears a noise once, but the door is closed when he looks. It's a relief not to have to protect Poland's sensibilities, just for a little while. He wouldn't understand the scars.
Lithuania is almost bankrupt. He weighs up his options and decides to emigrate. America doesn't seem like he's a bad person.
"It's, like, a long way," Poland says. "If I cut back on stuff I can totally help you out."
"I need to support myself," Lithuania says. "Thank you. You're a good friend."
"Whatev," Poland says, embarrassed.
They haven't gone to bed. They haven't done anything but kiss. Lithuania doesn't know how to deal with such a reticent, oddly reluctant Poland. He doesn't know if revealing the scars would make things worse.
He doesn't know how this got so complicated.
America is loud and brash, with all the optimism of the very young. He doesn't seem to know how to handle having staff, and half the time tries to do Lithuania's work for him. Lithuania likes him - when he says something rude it's youthful silliness, not honed with the malice of centuries.
America's cough at first seems negligible, but then the fever starts. Overnight, he's delirious but still working, making worse and worse decisions. It's clear he can't afford household staff any more and Lithuania reluctantly goes home.
By the time he reaches Europe, all his old neighbours are sick.
When Russia seizes Lithuania again he has gone, as Poland warned, totally batshit, dude. He uses whips to motivate his underlings to work. Lithuania tells him just once that The beatings will continue until morale improves is meant to be a joke. Russia smiles sweetly and raises the whip.
Lithuania comes round in his own bed with Estonia watching him, grimly drinking himself into a stupor.
"Why do I have such idiotic brothers?" Estonia asks God, or maybe just the mould-stain on the ceiling. He passes the bottle over.
"This too shall pass," Lithuania wheezes, and drains the bottle.
Afterwards, Lithuania tries not to remember the war, though it revisits him in dreams. Russia becomes stranger and stranger, and Lithuania watches his brothers retreat into silent terror. Latvia cannot be trusted with liquids or sharp objects any more, his hands tremble so. Estonia perfects the art of disappearing at the right moment, turning up again after the violence, all calm polite smiles and the slight whiff of vodka.
Lithuania never gets to vanish. He has too much work.
He has become adept at stealing all the letter openers on days he knows Russia won't like what the reports say.
After the war, Poland's views on the Allies' perfidy and the putative sexual preferences of Russia echo through the house till finally Russia wakes up, sobers up and decides to shut him up.
Lithuania stands, chastened and astonished, as Poland staggers up again, grabs some broken furniture as a weapon again, and breaks for freedom again. When he's finally dumped limply in the kitchens, Russia looks more exhausted than he expected.
"He's more of a man than you," he says, sweetly vicious.
"Thinks he's insulting us both," Poland slurs, when Russia's gone. "Let's kick his ass."
Lithuania decides he's right.
Russia has pronounced opinions, like Nations don't breed, therefore carnal behaviour isn't rational and Under communism, perversions don't exist.
"Pssst, Comrade," Poland says, pulling Lithuania into a closet. "I need to show you something under communism, and by communism I totally mean my underwear."
A few minutes of frantic kissing, hands inside each other's clothes isn't much, but it's warm and good, not greyly horrible like everything else. You still love me, Lithuania thinks. He holds Poland close, breathing in the scent of his hair.
"We're in the rye fields," he whispers. "We're free."
They both pretend they're not crying.
The Cold War's not much more fun than the hot one, but there is a certain satisfaction in seeing Russia realise that he has taken a bunch of troublemakers into his house.
Lithuania's never liked Prussia, but seeing him be obnoxious enough to set a vein throbbing in Russia's forehead is beautiful. Russia's eyelid twitches every time he comes across Poland in Hungary or Romania's clothes, and his smile drops away at Hungary's apparent never-ending supply of Austrian chocolate.
Russia slaps them all. They wait, politely silent, till he storms off.
The house rings with every language except Russian.
"Oh, hey, elections," Poland says, holding up a newspaper that until moments ago was in Russian. "Looks like my guy totally won. In honour of my new boss I, like, declare myself independent, yadda yadda." He grins at Lithuania. "Coming, Liet?"
Russia grips Lithuania's arm so tight it feels like it will break. "We must go to the office now," he says, ignoring Poland as if he no longer exists. "We have a lot of work."
Lithuania looks back as he's dragged away. Poland smiles ruefully, blows him a kiss.
Soon, he mouths.
Lithuania nods firmly. He's had enough.
Soon.
"Let's go for a walk," Lithuania says.
"W-w-where?" Latvia whispers.
"The seaside? I'll buy you icecream."
Latvia shivers, looking between Lithuania and the laundry he's meant to be doing. Fresh air and icecream win.
"Estonia?"
Estonia slowly sets his book aside. He takes Latvia's hand, grimly determined. They're at the door when Russia shows up.
"I won't let you go!" he says, and grabs Lithuania's arm, bracing one foot against the doorframe for leverage.
Estonia, outside, pulls as hard as he can, and Latvia frantically grabs on too. Lithuania tumbles out, landing on them in a heap.
Russia doesn't follow.
"I'm independent," Lithuania says, watching his brothers eat icecream. They stare at him, as if they've only just realised none of them are going back. "I can't say it for you," he says.
"I'm f-f-free?" Latvia says. The first real smile in a century spreads across his face. "I'm free!"
"Free!" Estonia yells, and pulls a half-bottle of Russian vodka from his jacket, flinging it far out into the Baltic Sea.
"I spent the last of my money on the icecream," Lithuania says. "If we want a celebratory toast -"
Laughing, they all run into the sea to retrieve the bottle.
"It's me again."
Lithuania always forgets how strong Poland really is, he thinks, finding himself dragged inside. Then he stops thinking, because Poland's hugging him, Poland's tongue is in his mouth. It's so much better than a stolen five minutes in the broom cupboard hoping Russia would stay away and Poland wouldn't wonder why the bulb was always missing.
He hisses as Poland squeezes his bruised arm. Poland rolls up his sleeve, puts his own fingers over the marks left by Russia's, pale against the dark. He kisses the bruises gently, slowly. Lithuania's shivers have nothing to do with cold.
He doesn't want to take off his clothes, but Poland eases him out, as if unwrapping a longed-for present. He kisses each bruise, traces each scar with the tip of his tongue. He's not surprised, Lithuania thinks, he's not disgusted.
"That one," he whispers as Poland works his way down one shoulder blade, "I said he couldn't love his sisters much if he caused famines in their territories."
"And this?" Poland murmurs, spending time on the marks on Lithuania's ribs.
"They're old," Lithuania gasps. "He didn't like me being pro-Napoleon." I'm being kissed better he thinks, surprised.
It's working.
Carefree sex is utterly familiar and something to be discovered all over again. Afterwards Poland snuggles in close, cocooning them in blankets.
"That was nice," he says, smug and satisfied.
"You knew about the scars," Lithuania says.
"I caught sight of them in 1918," Poland says. He traces a finger over one, light and tickling. "I was, like, stupidly embarrassed, Liet."
"So was I," Lithuania sighs.
"I'm sorry."
Poland presses his mouth to one again, and soon they are too happily busy for embarrassment.
In the morning when Lithuania looks in the mirror, all the marks have begun to fade.
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no subject
Date: 2009-11-27 01:20 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2009-11-27 05:41 pm (UTC)<3
Date: 2009-11-27 02:16 pm (UTC)"I need to show you something under communism, and by communism I totally mean my underwear."
Awesome. As was the rest. Wonderful dark humour, and painful-but-not-creepy. And even a happy ending!
Now to send out psychic waves of coercion at the anime-makers to do the Tannenberg strips, and the bath scene, and all the others...
Re: <3
Date: 2009-11-27 05:42 pm (UTC)Poland has his priorities right - kick your oppressor where it hurts, and if you can't kick them, at least wear fabulous clothes to piss them off.
no subject
Date: 2009-11-27 02:58 pm (UTC)I didn't know you were in this fandom! Long time, no see! :D
And, of course, another lovely fic. I love how you interwove the history, and really showed just how insane Russia is. Sure, you can see that he's unhinged in the anime, but here, he's well and truly psychotic. :(
BUT. Lithuania! Poland! It was really sweet that Poland wasn't surprised by the scars, and that they got better in the morning! I also liked how you made the Great Depression into a really bad fever. *^^*
no subject
Date: 2009-11-27 05:46 pm (UTC)I'm glad you liked this, thank you! Russia is rather insane here, not that it's his fault, but he's always a big imperialist running roughshod over people even when he's previously sane. And Lithuania and Poland - I don't know that I've ever really had an OTP, but my, they're a cute couple :-)
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Date: 2009-11-27 03:22 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2009-11-27 05:47 pm (UTC)(Love the icon, BTW!)
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Date: 2009-11-27 03:30 pm (UTC)Great job, thank you for posting this!
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Date: 2009-11-27 05:48 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2009-11-27 03:54 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2009-11-27 05:48 pm (UTC)no subject
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Date: 2009-11-27 05:49 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2009-11-27 06:16 pm (UTC)The way you wrote Lithuania and Poland...it was PERFECT.
<3 Never stop.
no subject
Date: 2009-11-27 06:31 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2009-11-27 06:31 pm (UTC)I always like Lithuania the best when he's portrayed as not completely subservient and obedient to Russia, because I do think he'd still retain some of his spirit and fighting strength (and he was the first nation to break away from Soviet rule), and I really liked your characterization of Poland too as a carefree character who nonetheless is capable of seriousness at times.
Russia was so crazed here, it was painful to read. But Lithuania does get his happy ending, and I'm grateful to see that. :) Because if there's anyone who deserves one, it's him.
no subject
Date: 2009-11-27 11:34 pm (UTC)I like the fact that although Russia clearly wants Lithuania back in the manga and anime, and still scares him a great deal, it's clear he is maintaining his independence (with help from his friends - I love the strip where Poland gets between them and yells he won't let Russia lay a hand on Lithuania). Lithuania and the rest of the Baltics really do deserve a happy ending!
no subject
Date: 2009-11-27 09:13 pm (UTC)Ahem. So, so much love for this story. I love how it feels like a photo album - like a series of snapshots throughout Lithuania's history that tell stories both on their own and together. And you've characterized him so perfectly here. I feel like a lot of people focus on the "chew toy" aspect of him and forget that really, Lithuania was a huge center of resistance in the Cold War. And Poland, oh my God I love how you wrote him in this story. So snarky and badass underneath that ditzy exterior. :D
Everything here was just... perfect. I love seeing Lithuania's rebellious side and how he interacts with the other characters. And this line was golden:
Lithuania's never liked Prussia, but seeing him be obnoxious enough to set a vein throbbing in Russia's forehead is beautiful. <----- Oh, Prussia, you would. XD
There are a ton of other lines that I loved here, but if I quoted them all I'd end up just copy-pasting the whole thing back at you. So, thank you for writing this, and I hopw you continue to write more! <3
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Date: 2009-11-27 11:38 pm (UTC)I'm so pleased you liked this, thanks again!
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Date: 2009-11-27 09:37 pm (UTC)no subject
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Date: 2009-11-28 11:21 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2009-11-28 11:52 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2009-11-29 12:50 am (UTC)And I love how Poland's mouthy carefree demeanor in this is more than just him being a ditz -- it's his way of asserting who he is, of refusing to fade away or be ignored. Seriously, I don't see this characterization of Poland enough, and I love how utterly indomitable he is here. Trap of STEEL!
The dynamic between the Baltics is great here, too -- how much do I love the moment where they all go chasing after the vodka? SO much. And Russia's disintegration throughout this is so ouch and so true, and I love how clear his pain is in this; it doesn't excuse what he does in this fic, obviously, but you manage to show the awfulness of what's happening without demonizing him, and I applaud you for it.
So yeah! I love this, and I really hope to see more Lithuania and Poland from you, because I can't remember the last time fic for them made me go YES YES YES so much.
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Date: 2009-11-29 12:34 pm (UTC)I love that Lithuania has the strength of character to put up with Poland's (usually well-meaning) bossiness and to stand up to him, and that Poland can actually stop and notice when he's being a dick to Lithuania - and how their first instinct, even after being apart for so long is to turn to each other in times of trouble. (As for Russia, he's a big and complicated
fellowcountry, he can't just be reduced down to one aspect).Thanks for this really great comment! I think it's a foregone conclusion that there will indeed be more Lithuania and Poland from me, and not a small amount at that :-)
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Date: 2009-11-29 02:01 am (UTC)And your take on Baltic Way was so cute!
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Date: 2009-11-29 12:15 pm (UTC)I'm really very fond of both Poland and Lithuania :-) I'm glad you liked this fic!
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Date: 2009-11-29 02:46 am (UTC)And when I look at this I realize you also wrote that awesome Russia/Lithuania fic that had me UISFYBGSDGSD-ing multiple times over. Another amazing fic!
You really write the baltics so well. Also, Poland totally has the best priorities ever. ♥
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Date: 2009-11-29 12:13 pm (UTC)I'm very fond of the Baltics, and I'm glad you like the way I write them!
(no subject)
From:no subject
Date: 2009-11-29 03:46 am (UTC)That line make me snigger uncontrollably.
Brilliant all through. I especially liked the way you handled Russia's slow degeneration; it was so believable and heartwrenching. And Lithuania's hidden strength - and Poland's! - came through very well. It was nice to see such as well-done historical fic. (I was a little suprised the Polish-Lithuanian War didn't come up, but I suppose this was complicated enough already.)
Excellent job. Please keep writing for this fandom!
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Date: 2009-11-29 12:10 pm (UTC)I'm delighted you enjoyed this, and I'm glad Russia came across as himself a damaged and hurting character. I left out the Polish-Lithuanian War both to simplify the storyline and because I wanted a non-ambiguous happy ending for them (and because as far as I can work out, within the Hetalia timeline, Lithuania is with America at the time - he does make a not-totally positive statement about Poland always stealing all the blankets which while it's about their youth could also be a comment on current events?). I hope to have the P-L War be an important plot point in another fic, though.
Thanks again for your lovely comment!
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Date: 2009-12-08 06:45 am (UTC)girlboy?) Again: lovely and psychologically acute. And was that a sneak allusion to the Baltic Way?Sorry this isn't more articulate; I'm still kind of scroggled that you've got me shipping countries, which is a little distracting. But I thoroughly enjoyed this -- thanks.
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Date: 2009-12-08 07:57 am (UTC)Yes, that was the Baltic Way, just three brothers running off for icecream and political independence! I know what you mean about the cognitive dissonance - this has to be one of the weirder fandoms out there!
Poland (oh, Poland) is a Valley
GirlBoy in English because he talks like that in Japanese! Or rather, he talks like a teenage schoolgirl, according to the author. A lot of the characters have odd speech patterns, either from teenage slang or obscure dialects, that then have to find some sort of English equivalent - the Nordic countries, for example, almost all speak in far northern Japanese dialects (except for Finland, I think).I'm glad you enjoyed this, thank you again!
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Date: 2010-12-22 09:09 pm (UTC)Oh my God, that was just astounding. I liked everything you used- the writing in present, the structure. I loved how the historical facts were there, intertwined with what happened in the little vignettes, but not being the main focus in the story. And the characterization, oh god. I've already read and commented your Like Cobwebs, and I said I really liked your Lithuania. Here, he was perfect. Well, your Lithuania fits perfectly with my headcanon. I love how you can write him rebellious and strong without pushing his canon attitude to an extreme point.
And Poland, oh, Poland was just wonderful. And so was Russia with his slow loss of sanity, even if he appeared less.
The scene of the Baltic Way was so cute! I smiled with the toast bit. I don't really see the Baltics as brothers, but I think they felt more... connected at that time. The last sentence made my day -I thought only I and a friend of mine had thought about the scars disappearing. And how you wrote Lithuania's relationship with Poland... everything sounded so natural, even in the situations you presented. I mean, I could almost intuit what would they do, and I think that's a good thing in this case.
And, last but not least, I want to ask you for permission. I'd love to translate this to Spanish -even to Italian if I felt like polishing it, but I'd like to have your "license" to do so. Of course I would show you the result if you let me, and I could translate you the comments if you wanted :)
Reading this was a pleasure! Thanks a lot for sharing! <3
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Date: 2010-12-22 09:16 pm (UTC)Thank you for the wonderful compliment of wanting to translate this - I'd be delighted for you to, into whatever language(s) you wish! Please do link me when you're done, I'd love to see it!
Thanks again :-)
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