❝oh oh you talk to me in siren song anyone would drown❞
Title: “Papa”
Series: Axis Powers Hetalia
Words: 320+
Characters: Vietnam ;; France
Rating: PG
Warnings: Implied violence, random French
Summary: During the Vietnam War, Vietnam tries to recall happier days with her “Papa.”
“Papa”
There was pain-a pain so fierce she had to bite down on her lip to keep from crying out. It felt like tongues of fire were running down her body, immobilizing her with their throbbing pulse. She couldn’t stop it; her body was being ripped in two. Suddenly, her self-control broke and she let out an ear-splitting shriek. There might have been a word lost in that cry-it was too broken to tell.
“Mon cherie, why are you crying?”
She looked up into the biggest, bluest eyes she’d ever seen. You didn’t see blue eyes in Vietnam very often-unless you were looking at an enemy. A solid fear gripped her heart, but a true warrior never gave in. She faced him stoutly, suppressing her panic.
“Ah, I see. You’re scared of me? Please don’t be, trés cher. I don’t know what you’ve been told, but I’ll take care of you.”
She knew she shouldn’t believe him-who could trust a Frenchman?-but there was something so warm, so safe, about his voice. Before she could make a decision, he caught her in a strong-armed embrace. Her head barely reached his shoulder, and he whispered his next words into her long, inky hair.
“It’s been hard, hasn’t it? But I’ll take care of you, now-you’ll be alright.”
It was so easy to believe his words. She hadn’t felt safe in so long. Despite herself, she was melting into his embrace, feeling more at ease than she had in decades. Hot tears flowed, onto the rich silk of his shirt-he didn’t seem to mind. He stroked her hair, held her tight.
“I’ll be your family, now, ma fille.” He reached down and kissed her forehead; she did not mind.
She was sobbing openly, now, and her cries echoed through the burning forest. Had anyone been close enough to hear, they might have recognized the one word she repeated as “Papa.”
---
Footnotes:
* The italicized portion of this fic takes place during the Vietnam War.
* The non-italicized portions represents France’s occupation of Vietnam.
* A quick French glossary: mon cherie means “my dear,” trés cher means “dearest,” and ma fille means “my daughter.”
* Most people assume Vietnam and France had a more overtly-sexual or mature relationship. I tend to disagree, and think that they were more familial.
Series: Axis Powers Hetalia
Words: 320+
Characters: Vietnam ;; France
Rating: PG
Warnings: Implied violence, random French
Summary: During the Vietnam War, Vietnam tries to recall happier days with her “Papa.”
“Papa”
There was pain-a pain so fierce she had to bite down on her lip to keep from crying out. It felt like tongues of fire were running down her body, immobilizing her with their throbbing pulse. She couldn’t stop it; her body was being ripped in two. Suddenly, her self-control broke and she let out an ear-splitting shriek. There might have been a word lost in that cry-it was too broken to tell.
“Mon cherie, why are you crying?”
She looked up into the biggest, bluest eyes she’d ever seen. You didn’t see blue eyes in Vietnam very often-unless you were looking at an enemy. A solid fear gripped her heart, but a true warrior never gave in. She faced him stoutly, suppressing her panic.
“Ah, I see. You’re scared of me? Please don’t be, trés cher. I don’t know what you’ve been told, but I’ll take care of you.”
She knew she shouldn’t believe him-who could trust a Frenchman?-but there was something so warm, so safe, about his voice. Before she could make a decision, he caught her in a strong-armed embrace. Her head barely reached his shoulder, and he whispered his next words into her long, inky hair.
“It’s been hard, hasn’t it? But I’ll take care of you, now-you’ll be alright.”
It was so easy to believe his words. She hadn’t felt safe in so long. Despite herself, she was melting into his embrace, feeling more at ease than she had in decades. Hot tears flowed, onto the rich silk of his shirt-he didn’t seem to mind. He stroked her hair, held her tight.
“I’ll be your family, now, ma fille.” He reached down and kissed her forehead; she did not mind.
She was sobbing openly, now, and her cries echoed through the burning forest. Had anyone been close enough to hear, they might have recognized the one word she repeated as “Papa.”
---
Footnotes:
* The italicized portion of this fic takes place during the Vietnam War.
* The non-italicized portions represents France’s occupation of Vietnam.
* A quick French glossary: mon cherie means “my dear,” trés cher means “dearest,” and ma fille means “my daughter.”
* Most people assume Vietnam and France had a more overtly-sexual or mature relationship. I tend to disagree, and think that they were more familial.