1000 Themes - #929 - Hetalia - America x Vietnam
Title: War
Rating: PG
Warnings: None? I guess there's some "gore," but it's only a mention.
Words: 293
Series: Axis Powers Hetalia
Pairings/Characters: America x Vietnam
It seemed that every time he blinked, he was somewhere else. He’d be sitting in front of the television watching the latest live developments on the war, and a blink later he was treading through chin-deep water holding his Stoner high above his head. Another blink would transport him to a press conference, and another to a recruiting office, and another to the bunker where lovely Vietnamese women served him tasty food. Sometimes, he’d find himself shouting at his men to go, go, go, and other times he’d be whispering for them to keep low and quiet. On the bad blinks, he’d be pressuring what was left of a soldier’s leg, or muttering his apologies to a young boy with dark eyes as he fished a bullet from his arm, or, in the worst-or best, depending on his mood-cases, watching an innocent villager fall dead to the ground, blood spurting from her head. If he was lucky, he’d wind up eating a burger at his favorite D.C. joint, popping out a cigarette for easier access once his meal had been washed down with a cold cola.
In the best of moments, they were smiling at each other, cracking jokes and sharing a meal. In the worst of moments, she was nowhere to be seen, and that was the scariest thing that could happen to him. He sometimes doubted the reality of his experiences, but he knew it was all too real. He tried to not let it bother him.
After all, a blink later and he could be watching Mickey Mouse or the way her mouth twitched when she slept. He just had to look on the bright side, even if the only things keeping it bright were napalm blasts and cigarette ashes.
Rating: PG
Warnings: None? I guess there's some "gore," but it's only a mention.
Words: 293
Series: Axis Powers Hetalia
Pairings/Characters: America x Vietnam
It seemed that every time he blinked, he was somewhere else. He’d be sitting in front of the television watching the latest live developments on the war, and a blink later he was treading through chin-deep water holding his Stoner high above his head. Another blink would transport him to a press conference, and another to a recruiting office, and another to the bunker where lovely Vietnamese women served him tasty food. Sometimes, he’d find himself shouting at his men to go, go, go, and other times he’d be whispering for them to keep low and quiet. On the bad blinks, he’d be pressuring what was left of a soldier’s leg, or muttering his apologies to a young boy with dark eyes as he fished a bullet from his arm, or, in the worst-or best, depending on his mood-cases, watching an innocent villager fall dead to the ground, blood spurting from her head. If he was lucky, he’d wind up eating a burger at his favorite D.C. joint, popping out a cigarette for easier access once his meal had been washed down with a cold cola.
In the best of moments, they were smiling at each other, cracking jokes and sharing a meal. In the worst of moments, she was nowhere to be seen, and that was the scariest thing that could happen to him. He sometimes doubted the reality of his experiences, but he knew it was all too real. He tried to not let it bother him.
After all, a blink later and he could be watching Mickey Mouse or the way her mouth twitched when she slept. He just had to look on the bright side, even if the only things keeping it bright were napalm blasts and cigarette ashes.