✎ Fel's Creative Journal (tinfoiltennis) wrote,
✎ Fel's Creative Journal

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✎ fanfic - hetalia - [untitled]

Title: who needs titles, this is crackland
Fandom: Axis Powers Hetalia
Characters: Portugal [OC], Spain, a bit of England at the end
Rating: PG for gratuitous dumping of little brothers into the sea.
Summary: Spain gets dumped into the sea. ... No, that's pretty much it.
Timeframe The early 2010s. :'>
Word Count: 907
Notes: Written rather quickly for the lovely starsandauras, and spurred on by discussion of a really cracky, almost bloodless version of World War 3 that is sparked off by Spain's reaction to Portugal and England getting married in this fic of mine. ... so it's kind of an in-joke right now. :'D
Warnings: A Hetalia OC, slight crack, Portugal's yandere smile, and Spain being completely unreasonable.


This nonsense had gone far enough, Luís decided as he made his way to Antonio’s Cadiz house. He’d known that his brother would react… well, hysterically to the news of his getting married, but declaring war on Ireland for marrying him to England, not to mention leaving her bruised from his misguided attempt to defend Portugal’s honour or some sort of nonsense like that? Was ridiculous. Not to mention that he was quite certain that Brigid was downplaying how much Spain had hurt her anyway. Which was why he was taking himself off quietly to try and talk some sense into his idiot of a brother – with force, if necessary.

Honestly, he thought with a short, irritated sigh as he waited for Antonio to answer the door, you would have thought that after over six hundred years, he would have given up gracefully by now. But then again, he amended as Antonio’s head appeared through a tiny crack in the door, only to try a speedy retreat when he saw who it was, this was his brother he was talking about.

He swiftly put his foot in the door to stop Antonio shutting the door on him and said sternly, “Toni, stop being ridiculous and open the door.”

“Why should I?” Antonio said sullenly, sounding every inch as if he was the one being wronged. Luís rolled his eyes and counted to five while he reminded himself to keep his temper.

“Because quite honestly, you are acting like a petulant child and I want to talk to you, irmão,” he said as patiently as he could. “Can we go for a walk? Please?”

There was a few seconds’ pause before the door opened and Antonio appeared. “Okay,” he said finally.

Luís waited until they were a good distance away from the house before he said anything. The silence was almost soul-crushingly uncomfortable, Antonio looking off sullenly to one side with his hands buried in his pockets while the wind whipped their hair up. Finally, Luís sighed shortly.

“Antonio, what is it that you’re trying to do? I know that you’re upset but I think trying to strangle Irlanda was a bit of an overreaction.” Antonio muttered something inaudible and Luís frowned, coming to a halt next to the low wall separating the town from the sea below. “What did she ever do to you in the first place?” Antonio looked up at him disbelievingly. “… Recently, I mean,” Luís conceded. Antonio leaned against the wall, folding his arms as he gazed stonily out at the ocean.

“… Why did you marry England?” he said finally, that sullen note still in his voice.

“Why is that any of your business?”

“He’s not good enough for you! And he never has been and he’s a pirate and a witch and a liar – and he’s not even Catholic, anyway!”

“And this was a good enough reason to strangle one of my best friends?” he asked icily.

“… She married you to him.”

“Oh, for goodness’ sake, Antonio!” Luís ran a hand through his hair in frustration. What was that one curious idiom of England’s? Talking to a brick wall? Try one hundred brick walls. “It’s been over six hundred years, when are you going to let this go? Whether Brigid was involved or not, you still ought to have seen this coming, since I wasn’t exactly dragged to the altar!”

“She still should have known better,” Antonio said defensively with a frown.

“She’s sick enough as it is!” Luís snapped back, finally giving up on any pretence of patience. “What you were hoping to achieve by hurting her I have no idea, but –”

“She deserved it!”

Luís stopped speaking suddenly and stared at Antonio in thunderstruck incredulity. Then, so quickly as to make it eerily jarring, an odd smile appeared on his face.

“Fine, then.”

Antonio never saw it coming. Within a few seconds, Luís had upended his brother over the side of the wall, where he fell with a loud shriek and a splash into the water below. After a few seconds, Antonio’s head reappeared as he stared up in mild shock at the wall above. Luís leaned over the edge slightly.

“If it’s really a war you want,” he said coolly, “then I suppose I’ll have to get involved. It seems that’s the only hope I have of beating any sense into you.” Without another word, he turned and walked away from the edge, leaving Antonio gaping at the sky from the sea below.


Here follows an excerpt from a phone call made on xx-xx-201x

“You declared war on your brother?!”

“I lost my temper.”

“Lost your temper? I’d bloody well say so since you’ve gone and got yourself into a war!”

“Oh, calm down, it will all be okay. By the look of it, Brigid’s allies far outnumber Antonio’s as it is.”

“Brigid is going to throw a fit when she finds out how many people are coming in on her side. And if you’re really that set on beating some sense into that idiot, then I want to be there to get dibs on the first punch.”

“I never expected anything less. And she will simply have to deal with it. She’s not the only one allowed to be protective.”

“… Good Lord, he really has gone and pissed you off this time, hasn’t he?”
Tags: canon: hetalia, character: england, character: portugal, character: spain, fannish, fic
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