Hetalia Reader Insert
Imagine a fish out of water.
Writhing, flailing, muscles wriggling beneath glistening scaly skin with the aim of making ground, a mind with one sole goal. It's constantly on the move, full of life... For now.
Now imagine a few dozen of them, maybe even two hundred, all different colours and shades, all shunting each other out of the way to traverse a long path. Journeying the land at the pace of an injured snail, frustration gradually refuelling their efforts.
That's the image that pops into your mind when you gaze upon the swarms of people below, inspecting each individual for a second with little attention to detail.
Even with your absent observation you notice that not all of those people are pushing and shoving; there are some more gentle folk on the receiving end of the abuse, looking lost as they spin themselves in circles, trying to find an exit from the turbulent mass. The other dull-eyed humans simply continue their careless trudge home from work, school, or whatever gruelling task they had participated in today, ignoring those who are quite obviously in need of help.
You mindlessly thank an enigmatic divine being that you are not similarly caught up in the crowds. Perhaps it is the opinion of the public rubbing off on you, but battling through waves of people really sucks the life from you.
Even watching it makes you feel dreary.
Flinching from your thoughts, you glance over your shoulder, eyes quickly locating a seldom-seen head of brown hair. Seeing as you're so unfamiliar with the newcomer, you turn around fully to take a closer look.
This person dons a green suit of sorts, a turquoise tie mostly hidden by the folds of a jacket. Mousy locks frame a face consisting of thin lips and blue eyes, light in shade but rich in colour. Those hues take in your appearance as you take in his.
"Oh, hello... Lithuania, isn't it? One of Sealand's guardians."
Your voice comes out softer than intended, but you dismiss it for now. The other country nods, distractedly looking back towards the staircase before facing you properly. He offers a small smile. "Yes, that's me. I, uh, didn't expect to see you up here."
You turn back to the scene before you, noting that the number of people is steadily decreasing as the sun sets. Now it appears as if the sky is mimicking the colourful chaos of the ground. "I got a little tired out by the festivities. I thought I'd take a breather out here before going back inside."
"Oh..." You're not looking at him anymore, but you can hear his shoes shuffle against the stone roof beneath you both. "Well, I suppose while I'm here, I may as well say congratulations?"
You almost wince at the word; though you know he means well, you've heard the phrase so many times today that it's lost all meaning, no matter how sincerely it is ennunciated.
"Thank you." And, as a result, your response is equally lacking in meaning.
A silence befalls you both, and it's as if his presence makes it harder to drift back into your nonchalant daze. As time crawls by, the quiet becomes heavy and awkward as a sense of uncertainty radiates from the country behind you.
It doesn't take long before your patience runs out.
"Come stand with me, if you will. It pains me to keep turning around to face you."
Your voice noticeably seems to shatter the silence, and you hear Lithuania's breathing hitch in surprise. Nevertheless he soon appears on your left, just within your peripheral vision.
Not too eager to have another nerve-wracking silence, you speak up again. "I didn't see you much when I was in big brother's house."
"Yes. I, uh- I'm kept busy by him, so I never really got to talk to you much... Or at all..."
Your (colour) orbs remain on the dissipating bundles of people below, expression unchanged as you point out: "I've been living there for over a century. You've been living there for longer than I. Surely you could have talked to me at some point?"
His nervous eyes dart to you, expecting to meet those familial questioning orbs that make his stomach churn, but instead he realises you're still focused on your surroundings. Hurriedly he faces forward again.
"Well, Russia is a big place-"
"I still managed to meet Latvia. Although, Estonia was kind of hard to meet with as well..." Your eyes flit up to his face, taking in his furrowed brow with mild curiosity. "You were particularly hard to find, though. Was that on purpose, I wonder?"
He says nothing, but blanches ever so slightly.
After a moment, you exhale deeply, and release him from your inquisitive stare. "Are you afraid of me?"
"N-No!" He sputters the word, filling your mind with suspicion and doubt. It seemed very likely that he was indeed afraid of you, even though you had managed to befriend the likes of Latvia, who had, upon meeting you, practically trembled in his boots.
Again, that dreadfully persistent silence returns, tenseness taking the place of heaviness. Your mind reels off of the topic at hand, instead thinking of the Latvian boy.
He was a good friend to you. Sure, sometimes the things he spouted were a little insensitive, but you had long since recognised it as a nervous tick. Seeing as your brother put him on edge with as much as a glimpse, you adopted the habit of forgiving such comments with ease.
As one of his favourite topics to talk about revolved around the other Baltics, you had come to learn a decent amount about them, albeit from a biased view. Mostly, you simply heard of how the littlest Baltic state wanted Lithuania and Estonia to be his brothers.
Even if they didn't want the same thing.
Estonia you had met a few times. Mostly to help you with technical problems when Russia ordered him to. Still, the bespectacled man seemed pleasant and enthusiastic when regarding a subject he was fond of, and kept you occupied in Latvia's absence.
Well, you knew basically what he was like from Latvia, Estonia and sometimes Sealand. He was someone that you shared a house with, yet only if you were lucky would see him at dinner. Otherwise, you two seldom saw each other, much less talked.
Yet here you were.
"... I'm not afraid of you. Really."
"Is that so?"
"... Good. You have nothing to fear from me."
The brunette pauses, and from the corner of your eye you notice his brow furrows slightly. Like he's contemplating something.
"Do people usually fear you? Is that why you asked?"
The thought almost makes you laugh. You couldn't imagine anyone would fear you. You're just a little nation-wannabe who finally achieved their hopes of becoming recognised. You hung around with Sealand and the micro-nation crew. Why would anyone, especially a country, feel threatened by you?
"No," you answer, voice slightly breathy from your efforts to refrain from laughing. "But the same can't be said for Russia. I suppose some people just quake at the mention of Braginski, so they quake at the mention of me."
The wrinkles in his face fade from existence, and he looses a small sigh. Tension leaves his shoulders and he settles a little lower into his stance, leaning a little more on the silvery railings. "Do you ever feel alone? Because people stay away from you and your brother?"
"Absolutely not," you utter obstinately. "I have many friends. Latvia and Estonia to name but two, and I also visit Sealand, Seborga and Wy regularly."
Your eyes crawl to his again, this time focusing on him intently. "Is that perhaps why you stay away from me? Because of Russia?"
The man hesitates before denying, and though he makes an effort to conceal it, his fists clench. A burst of intrigue sweeps all other thoughts from your mind, even the now-still view laid out before you. All that matters to you now is uncovering his thoughts on the topic.
"Liar," you insist. A (colour) eyebrow arches. "I'm no fool, I can see through something like that. Tell me the truth; I have no care for words with no meaning."
"But..." Again, he hesitates. Your interest falters upon noticing this, a sense of disappointment taking its place. With a sigh, you look away again, straightening from your relaxed stance.
"Never mind. It's obvious my company isn't valued much here."
With that you turn away and start trudging back towards the stairs. Back towards the party being held in your honour with loads of countries just waiting to use you for their own gain against Russia. How joyous.
"I didn't say that!"
"You implied it."
"No! I just- I just..."
Now it's his turn to sigh.
"I just... Didn't want to frighten you with the truth."
"Frighten me," you repeat bluntly, your expression levelling out in a deadpan. Seconds later, you stop and spare him a glance. "I doubt there's anything you could say that would ever scare me. There's no need to fret about that."
A third hesitation breaks the thin conversation, you notice. Either he's nervous, or he's trying to come up with more lies. The thought makes you frown. "If whatever you're trying to say is worth my time, spit it out now, or I'll leave."
Lithuania shakes his head firmly. Despite this small but confident gesture however, his next words come out rushed and somewhat forcefully. "The truth... The truth is I thought- I thought you seemed like a really nice person!"
You cock an eyebrow. "That's it? The terrifying truth? I thought you actually had something serious to say."
"It is serious!" he defends almost indignantly, then seems to catch himself. He clasps his hands together behind his back, gazing up towards the deep, navy-blue sky. "I've heard a lot about you from Latvia, and you're always polite at dinner. I guess Russia saw this coming, because he asked me to stay away..."
"Saw what coming exactly?"
"... He thought- Uh, he knew that I would like you... Asmorethanafriend."
"Hmm..." you hum again. A hand rises to your chin, a finger tapping your cheek in effort to hide your smirk. Maybe it is another of your brother's influences, but you can't help but feel amused as you watch Lithuania squirm uncomfortably. Or maybe it's because you've found another person that, perhaps, you can place some trust in without regretting it.
A new ally, perhaps.
"... Sorry, I guess. It's weird that I said that when we've barely talked." His softened blue eyes float back down to yours, almost guiltily, as he speaks. "I'll leave you alone."
"Don't." It's a demand, an order, but as soon as it leaves your lips your hand falls away, revealing a smile. "Don't leave. I may not know you well, but I'm pretty good at recognising sincerity."
For once, you approach him and he doesn't speedily walk in the other direction. There's no attempt to move; the corners of his mouth twitch a few degrees upwards, cautiously testing for a reaction. You ignore the uncertainty in his expression and simply stick your hand out in front of you.
Pretty pale blue eyes latch onto it, tracing its movements until it stops to rest, a little too high to be level with your hip. "... What is this supposed to be?"
"Well, it's common courtesy to shake someone's hand when you become acquainted with them, correct?" You don't miss a beat, jerking your hand up an inch. (Colour) irises gaze expectantly at him. "Perhaps I can't accept your feelings just yet, but I would like to be your friend."
Against the dark sky, Lithuania's pale eyes seem to gleam a bright azure as they focus on your hand with an unusual intensity. After a moment's silence, he finally says: "This means something more to you, doesn't it? This handshake..."
All-too-innocently you cock your head to the side, your expression morphing into one of childlike curiosity as you ask: "What do you mean?"
Of course, you know exactly what he means. You really want to know how he drew that conclusion, but you suspect from the look in his eyes that he understood perfectly.
"If you shake hands with everyone you become acquainted with, you would have shaken the hand of every country downstairs. So why... Are you only doing it to me?" he asks, and almost immediately your smile widens.
"Because, unlike them, you're worth trusting."