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Literature Text
Your Papa, Finland, picked you up and balanced you on his hip. "Well, sweetie, it's time for bed."
"Noooooo!" you whined.
"Come on, honey, you know that you have school tomorrow."
"But I'm not-"
"No 'but's', (f/n)."
You huffed indignantly. "Papa, I'm not tired!"
He smiled. "If you want, I'll even sing you a lullaby."
This made you brighten up immediately. You loved your Papa's soft voice, especially when he sang in Finnish. It carried clearly, but still remained quiet at the same time. The way he could hold a note was mesmerizing, and could make even the tensest person in the world relax.
Finland knew that he had you there. You loved hearing him sing, he knew it. When you were young, you would beg for ages for him to sing while he pretended to be thinking about it. Finland grinned at the memories.
"Really?" you asked breathlessly.
"Yes, really. Maybe I'll even sing you two if we leave right now."
You gasped. "Let's go, now!"
Your Papa laughed. He carried you out of the living room and into the kitchen, where Sweden sat at the table.
"Su-san, I'm taking (f/n) up to bed."
Sweden glanced up from his IKEA catalogue. "Mmhmm. G'd n'ght, h'ney."
With that, Finland carried you upstairs to your room. He tucked you in under the thick comforter and sat at the edge of the bed.
"Lennä, lennä leppäkerttu
ison kiven juureen,
siellä on sun äitis, isäs,
keittää sulle puuroo." 1
Repeating this a few times, he looked over at you. You were obviously tired, but were holding onto consciousness for the second lullaby that he promised you. Finland was surprised. You were usually out like a light within the first two times he repeated the song. He racked his brain for the other one you had loved as a child.
"Körö körö kirkkoon,
papin muorin penkkiin
mustalla ruunalla,
valkealla varsalla
peltojen ylitse,
aitojen alitse,
kilikello kaulassa
punaisessa nauhassa
pom, pom, pom." 2
And, finishing that last song, you were asleep faster than lightning could appear in the sky.
"Minä rakastan sinua 3 , (f/n)."
"Noooooo!" you whined.
"Come on, honey, you know that you have school tomorrow."
"But I'm not-"
"No 'but's', (f/n)."
You huffed indignantly. "Papa, I'm not tired!"
He smiled. "If you want, I'll even sing you a lullaby."
This made you brighten up immediately. You loved your Papa's soft voice, especially when he sang in Finnish. It carried clearly, but still remained quiet at the same time. The way he could hold a note was mesmerizing, and could make even the tensest person in the world relax.
Finland knew that he had you there. You loved hearing him sing, he knew it. When you were young, you would beg for ages for him to sing while he pretended to be thinking about it. Finland grinned at the memories.
"Really?" you asked breathlessly.
"Yes, really. Maybe I'll even sing you two if we leave right now."
You gasped. "Let's go, now!"
Your Papa laughed. He carried you out of the living room and into the kitchen, where Sweden sat at the table.
"Su-san, I'm taking (f/n) up to bed."
Sweden glanced up from his IKEA catalogue. "Mmhmm. G'd n'ght, h'ney."
With that, Finland carried you upstairs to your room. He tucked you in under the thick comforter and sat at the edge of the bed.
"Lennä, lennä leppäkerttu
ison kiven juureen,
siellä on sun äitis, isäs,
keittää sulle puuroo." 1
Repeating this a few times, he looked over at you. You were obviously tired, but were holding onto consciousness for the second lullaby that he promised you. Finland was surprised. You were usually out like a light within the first two times he repeated the song. He racked his brain for the other one you had loved as a child.
"Körö körö kirkkoon,
papin muorin penkkiin
mustalla ruunalla,
valkealla varsalla
peltojen ylitse,
aitojen alitse,
kilikello kaulassa
punaisessa nauhassa
pom, pom, pom." 2
And, finishing that last song, you were asleep faster than lightning could appear in the sky.
"Minä rakastan sinua 3 , (f/n)."
Literature
Papa!Sweden x Mama!Finland x Child!Reader
Chapter Three; World Meeting
Tino crept into Berwald's room early one morning, smiling softly when he saw (Y/N) cuddled into him, breathing softly, with her small fingers wrapped in his hair.
A shot went through Tino's heart. He wished he could do that, sleep so soundly beside someone. But it made him feel too exposed and vulnerable, and he wonders if he'll ever conquer this fear of his. It reminded him of battling in an open field; feeling exposed and vulnerable.
Gently shaking (Y/N), he smiled when her lids cracked open. "Wakey wakey!," he beamed, "Come on, wake up. We've got the meeting today."
(Y/N) groaned and tucked her head under B
Literature
Papa!Sweden x Mama!Finland x Child!Reader
Chapter One; Family
The morning was cool and crisp.
Leaves crunched under her foot as she walked. (H/C) hair reached her shoulders, as she wasn't old enough for it to have grown long. In fact, she wasn't very old at all. This young girl was only a new nation, having woken up just moments before, in a place she knew as her own. But despite it seeming familiar, it wasn't. It was her small country but she didn't know it's layout or where to go for help.
For hours she wandered, scared and alone. Wringing her (s/c) hands and fiddling with the end of her flowing dress, that was a pale white colour. Her cheeks had turned pink, as the cold, pale s
Literature
Papa!Sweden x Mama!Finland x Child!Reader
Chapter Two; Favourite
(Y/N) awoke to the smell of breakfast, with a warm arm wrapped around her protectively.
Her heart squeezed in happiness. When she'd first been formed, only yesterday, and was walking around; she was so alone and scared, not knowing what to do or who to go to. But now she had a family. A strange one at that, but a family all the same. She didn't have to be alone in her future battle of becoming a fully formed nation; with paper work and war and disagreements with other countries. She had it all ahead of her now.
"Papa?," she asked, shaking the thick arm draped over her. It connected to broad shoulders that belonged to
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Well, here's my Papa!Finland fic. I've already done Papa!Russia, and that made me realize how much I love lullabies. So, I'm thinking that I'm gonna make a series of oneshots with Papa! or Mama! Countries singing lullabies in their native tounge.
1- Fly, fly ladybug,
Into the foot of the big stone,
There are your mommy and daddy,
Boiling porridge for you.
2- Ride, ride to the church
To the priest's wife's pew
With a black horse
With a white colt
Over the fields
Under the fences
Jingling bell on the neck
In a red ribbon
Clink, clink, clink.
3- I love you
If the translations are incorrect, please tell me.
Comments are appreciated, but not necessary.
Hetalia is not mine.
Neither are Finland or Sweden.
I don't own you.
But I DO own the story.
1- Fly, fly ladybug,
Into the foot of the big stone,
There are your mommy and daddy,
Boiling porridge for you.
2- Ride, ride to the church
To the priest's wife's pew
With a black horse
With a white colt
Over the fields
Under the fences
Jingling bell on the neck
In a red ribbon
Clink, clink, clink.
3- I love you
If the translations are incorrect, please tell me.
Comments are appreciated, but not necessary.
Hetalia is not mine.
Neither are Finland or Sweden.
I don't own you.
But I DO own the story.
© 2012 - 2024 Resistance33
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