tinfoiltennis: A woman standing on a beach, holding a model ship and looking away from the viewer (✎ Feltwig used Drink Tea!)
✎ Fel's Creative Journal ([personal profile] tinfoiltennis) wrote2010-01-28 04:51 am

✎ fanfic - hetalia - this is all ichi's fault

Title: the dysfunctional hetalia family fic that is completely ichi's fault
Fandom: Axis Powers Hetalia
Characters: FAR TOO MANY. England, America, Sealand, Australia [[livejournal.com profile] unspeakingly's OC], Portugal [OC], Jamaica [OC], Brazil [OC]; Canada, Hong Kong, Macau, East Timor and the majority of the former British and Portuguese Empires are mentioned in some way.
Pairing?: None, although feel free to see a bit of England/Portugal in there if you squint
Rating: PG-13
Summary: It's Australia's birthday again, and this time England is determined not to get her present to her late. Hilarity and chaos ensues.
Timeframe: 2010
Word Count: 3743
Notes: THIS IS ALL ICHI'S FAULT. We were discussing her OC Australia and my England on the shipping meme on adddictions (as you do) and she said she loved the idea of some weird dysfunction junction made up of Portugal/England + America + Canada + Australia, and then... this happened. :|b
Warnings: OCs, if you don't like that sort of thing? I apologise in advance to the Portuguese and Jamaicans who may read this and wonder what the hell I've done with their countries. Mea Culpa.

✎ ✎ ✎

“I have a sister?”

America sounded completely and utterly bewildered on the other side of the line, and England pinched the bridge of his nose, wondering how many more times they’d have to go through this conversation. “Yes, America, you have a sister. Several, in fact, although no matter how many times we have this conversation you don’t seem to retain the bloody information.” Although really, England added to himself, when he couldn’t keep track of his own brother who lived right next door to him, there was never going to be any hope for the rest of the family.

He sighed heavily. Might as well get this conversation over with as soon as humanly possible, before he got too much of a headache. “Look, the point is, it’s her birthday in a week’s time and since –“ oh, bloody hell, this was going to be hard to admit “– she hasn’t managed to ever get anything on time for the last 200 years if at all, I thought it was high time we actually made an effort to make it up to her.” He rolled his eyes, even though America couldn’t see. “But since you clearly have no idea about your own sister’s existence despite fighting in a –“

“Wait. You’re throwing a party, England?” America said, sounding completely disbelieving.

“Organising one, yes. Don’t sound so bloody surprised, you cheeky brat.”

“Well, obviously I’ve gotta be there!” America said cheerfully. “A party just wouldn’t be quite as awesome without me there, right? And whoever my little sister is, I’m sure she must be just as awesome –“ so awesome that you forget about her after every time you meet, England thought, disgruntled, “ – so I’ve gotta meet her! Where is it?”

At this point, England was just thanking whatever higher being happened to be up there that at least the process of getting America to come along hadn’t taken hours. Like it had with Sierra Leone. And Malawi. And most of Africa and the Caribbean, come to that, since all of them had apparently forgotten that it was Australia’s birthday coming up. Only barely managing to hide his relief, England gave America the time and place, told him in no uncertain terms that he’d better show up on time by local standards and not his own timezone, and put the phone down with a short sigh.

“And that’s America, which makes him the last one,” he said, crossing a name off the list. He glanced across the room at the other nation currently reclining on the sofa with a book in hand. “Remind me again why I thought it was a good idea to make this an affair for the entire family.”

“Because,” Portugal said, lazily turning a page, “as you so succinctly explained to America just now, meu caro, Australia has not received a present on time from anyone other than New Zealand since she became your colony.” He looked up from his book, grinning. “You seemed to be sufficiently remorseful about the fact the other night to put together this plan, at least.”

“The other night, I was drinking. You were meant to talk me out of it,” England said primly.

“And deprive the poor girl of a birthday celebration that actually takes place on the appointed day? Inglaterra, as if I could.”

England frowned. “You say that as if I’ve just gone and neglected her completely,” he muttered. Portugal chuckled.

“Of course not. I’m only repeating what you said to me.” He sat back thoughtfully, the book now held loosely in his hands. “Although I still haven’t quite fathomed why I’m involved.”

“Because you were supposed to talk me out of it,” England smirked. “Besides, Australia likes you. She calls you Mum when she thinks I’m not listening, you know.”

Portugal raised an eyebrow. “It’s nice to find out what your former colonies really think of me,” he said dryly, a wry smile on his face.

“Speaking of colonies, don’t think that I haven’t noticed that you’ve invited your lot as well. As if we didn’t already have enough people.”

Portugal shrugged, returning to his book. “Raul caught wind of it from Zhi, apparently, and you know what he’s like. If you give him an inch you might as well give him a mile.”

“Yes, well. That’s because you spoiled him.”

Portugal grinned. “I did somewhat, didn’t I?”

England pushed his chair back from the desk, rolling his eyes fondly. “Well, if we’re lucky, this won’t completely explode in our faces any more than is necessary.”

✎ ✎ ✎

Predictably, things didn’t go entirely according to plan. For a start, Sealand decided that the morning England was leaving would be a fantastic time to turn up on his doorstep, and upon finding out that there was a party being organised and practically the entire Commonwealth and then some were going, demanded to be included. And since England was in no mood (and more importantly, didn’t have the time) either to argue or to have Sealand run off and encourage one or all of his siblings to crash the party, he was forced to start pulling strings to get the pint-sized brat a seat on the plane. Where, equally as predictably, he started whining and fidgeting until in a fit of pique England shoved a pint of Ben and Jerry’s into his lap, which shut him up for the rest of the flight.

He was relieved to see that at least part of the plan had gone right on the other end of things. Just as planned, New Zealand had dropped by his sister’s house and chivvied her out under some sort of pretext (he hadn’t really specified what, trusting New Zealand to come up with something that Australia would find plausible on her birthday) and from then on in the others had begun to arrive and set things up. Thanks to his Sealand-shaped distraction, England ended up arriving quite a bit later than expected, and the scene that greeted his eyes on entering was already one of chaos.

“Luciano, stop playing futebol inside, if you break one of Australia’s windows she won’t thank us for it –“

“Aw, give it a rest, Pai, I’m not planning on breaking anything --”

“Raul, was that my wallet you just took?”

“Your wallet, Zhi? I’m sure I don’t have any idea what you’re talking about –“

“Um, I’m not trying to be a bother, but if there’s any way that I can help… although you’re probably not even listening to me, are you…”

“Nice to see ya made it, Boss,” said a voice from behind him, and England turned to find a grinning Jamaica, her long dreadlocks tied back in a bobble and a turntable in her arms. England let a momentary smile flit across his face in response before his eyebrows creased together in a small frown.

“I thought we’ve been over this a million times already, you don’t have to call me that.”

Jamaica laughed. “Yeah I know, I just do it ‘cause it annoys you,” she said in her strong accent, shifting the turntable slightly. England, who had been about to say something in response to that, quite possibly involving how it was obvious that he clearly hadn’t kicked Spain out soon enough, flicked his gaze to the equipment in her arms and changed tack at the last minute.

“You’re handling the music then?”

“Sure am,” she nodded. “Your Portuguese wife seemed a’ think I was the only one to be trusted with it.”

“He’s not my wife.

“That’s not what half of Europe say – OI, MINE MI EQUIPMEN’ YUH BRAZILIAN BLOOD CLAAT!”

Brazil was out of the door with his football before anyone could say another word.

✎ ✎ ✎

Once the football had safely been confiscated from Brazil’s hands and deposited by Hong Kong in a spare room somewhere and Sealand had occupied himself with asking East Timor just how she got to be a recognised nation when they were practically the same age, there was a sudden excited shout of “They’re coming!” from Trinidad – or was it Tobago? One of the two –who had made it their mission to hover around the curtain and play lookout.

Just as well that they had, as well, as Cape Verde and India (who had flat-out refused to let anyone into the kitchen that didn’t have their express permission – namely England, although neither of them would say that out loud for fear of causing another row) had only just finished laying out the food when the sound of the door slamming caught everyone’s ears and Australia’s distinctive accent could be heard from the hall.

“ – dunno why y’were so excited about gettin’ me out if you’re just gonna chase me back inside again, mate. The beach was brilliant an’ all, but s’not like you can really enjoy it if you’re not --”

That was when she opened the door and saw everyone standing there, and her mouth dropped open almost comically. New Zealand peered in over her shoulder and flashed everyone there the thumbs up with a grin.

“… crikey, has the whole bloody world come t’see me or somethin’?” she said weakly after she found her voice, her mouth still open in a small ‘o’. “What’s all this about then, ‘ay?”

Seemingly on cue, everyone turned to look at England. Australia followed suit, blinking curiously.

“I should think that you of all people should be able to guess,” he said simply. There were a few moments of a very pregnant silence. Then, realisation dawned in Australia’s eyes and she sprang forward with an excited yell, grabbing her father in a hug forceful enough to crack ribs.

“You mean this is for my birthday? Y’actually remembered for once?” she said happily, ignoring the titters beginning to come from her brothers and sisters.

“Australia – get off, you daft girl, you’re going to break me clean in half – and what do you mean ‘for once’, I’ve never forgotten –“

“Awww, you’re a big wussy, Pommie,” she said with a laugh, but she let go, her face completely lit up with happiness. “Don’t worry, this totally makes up for the last 200 years.” There was a pause. “You got me prezzies on time t’go with the party, right?”

England huffed. “Well of course I did, I wouldn’t go to the trouble to drag the entire bloody family here if –“

But he never got to finish that sentence as America stepped forward with an enthusiastic grin and practically shoved England out of the way (“What the hell was that for, you sodding git?”), a clumsily wrapped parcel in hand. “Hey there, little sis!” he beamed. “Happy Birthday!” and he thrust the present into her hands. Australia grinned, pausing long enough to shoot an apologetic glance at her dad before she replied with an enthusiasm that at least equaled America’s.

“Nice t’see you too, y’boofhead! Y’actually got me somethin’ on time for once an’ all!”

“Of course!” America grinned. “It’s not like I’d forget my awesome little sister!”

Australia stared at him for a few seconds, then burst out laughing. “Pig’s bum! Every time we see each other I have t’remind you who I am, y’daft Seppo.” Her smile softened slightly as soon as she said it, though. “Doesn’t mean that I don’t appreciate it, like. C’mere!” And within a few seconds, she was giving America the same treatment that she’d given England moments before, the sole difference being that America was responding with an equally bone-crushing hug while encouraging her to open her present (and not-so-subtly encouraging her to ignore the rest as his would be awesome enough to make up for all of them).

England wasn’t given enough time to start feeling completely (and justifiably, as far as he was concerned) miffed, however, as the nations that weren’t waiting for their chance to greet Australia – including Canada, who had somehow, as always, ended up at the back of the group beginning to mill around her despite being one of the ones who was closest to the door when she came in – were starting to eye the buffet table surreptitiously. In fact, were it not for India keeping a watchful eye on the food, England had little doubt that the entire table would have been picked clean by now.

He felt a tug on his elbow. “Oi, Jerk-England! Me and Fátima are hungry!” Sealand scowled up at him, his stomach giving off a rather loud rumble as if to better prove his point whilst beside him, East Timor smiled apologetically. “Tell India to let us eat!”

England sighed, thinking to himself that this was precisely why he’d not told Sealand about this in the first place. “I’m sure if you ask her - politely, mind, Sealand, I want you to watch your tongue when you speak to her – she’ll hardly mind if –“


Once everyone had jumped in surprise at having their eardrums as good as burst by an incredibly loud Australian, Sealand took one look at East Timor, grinned, grabbed her hand and dragged her off to the table without a word, swiftly followed by most of the rest of the room.

England sighed and followed suit, beginning to feel as if the situation was perhaps getting a tad away from him.

✎ ✎ ✎

The food now being or having been in the process of being demolished, and apart from a scrape between Brazil and Singapore over the last of the rice which required both Portugal and England to step in – and honestly, were they fully-fledged nations or still children? – things appeared to be going relatively peacefully. Which wasn’t to say that they were quiet, especially with Jamaica controlling the music as she was, but compared to past meetings, or even the official meetings some of them had been enduring for years, it was certainly tranquil enough to be worthy of note.

At the very least, England thought, no one had started a fully-fledged brawl or anything yet, which was enough of a blessing for him.

“I think Australia’s looking for you,” Portugal said, dropping into the seat beside him. England blinked.

“Is she?”

“That’s what I heard from Macau when I passed him teasing Hong Kong in the hall. Did you see what he bought for her?”

“I can’t say I did, no.”

“Suffice it to say that it was incredibly expensive and I’m surprised that he didn’t rob a bank in order to be able to afford it.”

“Or so he tells you,” England said pointedly. “Personally I’m just glad that Sealand’s keeping himself out of trouble.” He glanced over to a few feet away, where both Sealand and East Timor were sitting cross-legged on the floor, completely enthralled with whatever Jamaica was telling them.

“… but Anansi was a crafty one, so him did say to Python, you let me tie you to that branch there, an’ I’ll a measure you. So when him was completely tied on so as he couldn’ move an inch, Anansi took him on that same branch to Nyame as part of his payment…” Spotting the two older nations eavesdropping on her story, Jamaica grinned and whispered conspiratorially to the two small nations in front of her. “Them two there, they’re real Anansis alright. You don’ wanna hear the things they were gettin’ up to when I was your age.”

“Jerk-England too?” Sealand said, his head swiveling round to England’s direction, his eyes like a pair of very wide, very blue searchlights. “No way! He’s nowhere near cool enough for that sort of thing!”

England spluttered, while he had the sneaking suspicion that next to him, Portugal was trying to hold back laughter. “Watch your mouth, you cheeky brat! There’s no reason why I wouldn’t be able to!” He paused and fixed Jamaica with a scowl. “That’s not an invitation to tell them, by the way, Marcia.”

Jamaica laughed, grinning widely. “You’re so uptight, Boss. You need some way of keepin’ the pickineys happy, right?”

England leaned against the back of his chair, sighing. “Remind me again why we did this,” he said in a long-suffering tone.

Portugal laughed slightly, smiling fondly, although his voice was softer when he spoke. “Inglaterra, you know why.”

His eyes strayed over to the other occupants of the room, and despite himself England’s gaze followed. Cyprus was deep in conversation with Madeira and Azores, who was laughing at something that America had just said. Even Canada seemed to be less invisible than usual, laughing nervously with Barbados and New Zealand. Judging by Hong Kong’s expression, Macau was still relentlessly teasing him, and England found himself wondering how much longer he would last before snapping.

Portugal was right; he did know why. Australia’s birthday might have been the catalyst, but as always, there was another reason for voluntarily bringing all of this chaos into one place.

They had both always been terrible at letting go.

“I’m going to find Australia, I think,” he said, half to himself, getting up and heading for the door. “Make sure a war doesn’t break out while I’m gone.”

✎ ✎ ✎

Australia, as it happened, was only a little way away from the house, sitting on the ground and looking out at the now-setting sun with a hand above her eyes. Clearly she’d also heard England coming, because she twisted around a little way before he reached her, flashing him a grin as she looked up at him.

“Careful, there’s stuff in this backyard that’ll eat ya alive.”

“Oh, don’t get started,” England retorted. “I’m fairly certain that after everything 2000 years has had to offer, your bloody wildlife isn’t going to cause me too many problems.”

Australia laughed. “That’s what you say now, mate.” She patted the ground next to her with one hand. “Grab a bit of ground?”

England hesitated for a moment, and then thought oh, why the hell not and sat down next to her, her grin flashing wider for an instant as he did so.

“Y’know, I really do appreciate it,” Australia said after a while, a small, content smile on her face. “The party an’ all, I mean. It wasn’ really somethin’ I was expecting, y’know?”

“Yes, well, that’s the point. It wouldn’t be a surprise if you’d known it was coming.”

“Yeah, but you managed to get the entire family out here!” Her smile took on a teasing air. “Whaddya have t’do, write threatenin’ letters to everyone?”

“Oh, shut up,” he muttered, rolling his eyes.

“I was joking, Dad. No need to get your knickers in a knot.” She paused. “Although you know, I still haven’t got anythin’ off you yet. Y’leave it in the post late again?”

Well, England was ready for that one. “As a matter of fact, no, actually,” he said, allowing a slightly smug smile to make its way across his face. “I was going to give it to you earlier but in the end I thought it would be better to wait until certain idiots were occupied doing other things.”

“Really? Y’mean you actually got me something on time?” Australia’s eyes were wide and curious, excitement dancing behind them. England suddenly felt a sudden inexplicable burst of awkwardness.

“Well – yes, don’t act like it’s such a surprise! I mean – it isn’t exactly much, but…” he trailed off, his hand going into his pocket and nestling around the present in question.

Australia snorted. “Pshaw, I don’ care if it isn’t exactly much, it’s still a present! C’mon, England, dontcha think you’ve kept me waiting long enough already?”

“Alright – well – don’t say I didn’t warn you!” he said impatiently, withdrawing his hand from his pocket and opening it to reveal a small Swiss army knife and a tiny starfish suspended in green glass on a black cord.

“I know you’ve already got several knives, but half the things you do with them I wouldn’t be surprised if a lot of them need replacing by now. And – I know you’re not much of a one for jewelry, but well – this reminded me of you. Matches your eyes,” he said awkwardly, feeling like a bit of a prat.

Australia stared at his open hand for all of about one full second before she launched herself at him again, wrapping him in a hug that was no less enthusiastic than the one from earlier, if marginally less bone-crushing. England spluttered slightly, and once again it took him a few seconds to recover and find his voice.

“I. I take it that means you like them, then?” he managed to get out.

“Best. Birthday. Ever,” Australia said in reply, and he didn’t have to see her face to hear the smile in her voice. She released him, her entire face lit up. “Next thing you know, you’ll be gettin’ me stuff for Christmas on time an’ all!”

England tutted impatiently, but chose to ignore that comment for now. It wasn’t as if he could make much of a convincing counter-argument when he was sure that his cheeks were burning up a little in a way that had nothing to do with the Australian sun. “Give it a rest, Terra Australis, and let me put this on for you.”

That done, England handed her the knife as well and allowed himself a rare smile, rather proud to notice that he’d been right; it did go with her eyes. Australia grinned back at him and hugged him again, and, well – she was his daughter, and there was no one around to see, so it didn’t much matter if he was gingerly hugging her back either, now, did it.

“Thanks, Dad,” she said softly.

It would have been a perfect moment, something out of one of America’s sappy Hollywood films, had there not at that very instant been a rather loud bang from the direction of the house followed by a very distinctive shriek of “Paaaaaaaii!” Almost guiltily, Australia and England broke apart, twisting with almost identical expressions of surprise to look back at the house.

It took England about five seconds to work out what it was, and he put a hand to his face with a small sound of frustration. “Oh, bloody hell, Hong Kong!” he cursed. “I should have known it’d only take him so long to snap.”

Australia chuckled. “Ah well, s’always next year, ‘ay?”

[identity profile] sascharin.livejournal.com 2010-01-28 05:33 pm (UTC)(link)

Yeah, see that^? That killed me dead. A++ felbb

ignore the rp journal :>

[identity profile] ofhopeandglory.livejournal.com 2010-01-28 08:30 pm (UTC)(link)
Heee, I'm still so glad you approve of her! That line and pretty much all of Jamaica's dialogue was so much fun to write. >_>


[identity profile] sascharin.livejournal.com 2010-01-28 08:51 pm (UTC)(link)
That's why you should write more of her /HINTHINT

[identity profile] unspeakingly.livejournal.com 2010-01-29 09:46 am (UTC)(link)
So, now that I have the time to sit down and comment, and the mental capacity to say more than alksdjfls;lsdkfjsf ♥ -

Ahhhh, Fel, this was absolutely perfect and I couldn't imagine it to be any better, in all honesty. ♥ ffff the opening scene was wonderful and immediately hooking and hilarious and appropriately adorable.

And then asdlfjlfj I love all of your OC nations forever. Their personalities and little quirks and interactions and everything and sdlkfj they're so awesome and cute and they will continue to best mine forever at every turn. And you portray Australia perfectly and her reactions are awesome and spot-on (and lmfao, you did put that part in with America shoving poor England aside) and the pre-feast scene is hilarious and amazing and ffffff the actual feast itself is hilarious to imagine and if I wasn't fail and it wouldn't be so uncoordinated and all over the place I would totally write it.

And then last scene. J-just. Ahhhhhhhhh, s-so adorable. *u* The present was a wonderful surprise, and then when he put the necklace on her and "allowed himself a rare smile, rather proud to notice that he’d been right; it did go with her eyes" alskdjfsdaf I just died of AHHHHHHHH ;u; ♥♥♥ In fact, that whole paragraph was the best thing ever, because the hug and ldksjffffff

a-and then the ending lmfao just wrapped it up perfectly.

... TL;DR without ranting and a clearly limited vocabulary, I love you lots and lots and lots and you are the best ever? ♥

Also, ngl, I... totally pictured the colonies arguing over whether England or Portugal would be the wife of the couple.

[identity profile] tinfoiltennis.livejournal.com 2010-01-29 11:03 am (UTC)(link)
FFFFFFF this is the most awesome comment to wake up to in my inbox ever. I am still so glad you like it because as I got further and further into it I was like "... WHAT IS EVEN GOING ON IN THIS THING ANYMORE. I DON'T KNOW, BUT I AM DETERMINED TO REACH THE END." So yes I shall be forever 8D over the fact that you like it so much and that I actually didn't fail with Australia because I would never have forgiven myself if I had mucked up your OC ;^;

And fff, thank you for the comment on my OC nations! I'm just glad that people actually seem to like them and not hate them because. I kind of love dreaming them up, sob. Although Portugal's still my bebe. Even if Jamaica might soon be joining him there. orz. Also I can totally understand not writing the feast to be perfectly honest, because I had enough trouble trying to co-ordinate something with so many nations in as it was and that would have been... too much chaos for my fingers to handle typing, I think. XD;

THAT GAVE ME CAVITIES TO WRITE. England's so secretly a bit of a sweetheart right deep down inside, hee. But I'm so glad you liked the present because I am useless with presents even IRL so trying to think of one for Australia that England would get her made me go "AHHHH WHAT DO I DO AHHHH". ♥

And lmao, the ending. It really couldn't have happened any other way, I think. :'D It was the one thing that stayed in place throughout the whole thing as "no matter what else happens, this fic will end with Hong Kong setting a small firecracker off somewhere near Macau". |D

I love you lots too bb and will be forever gleeful that you liked this. 83 ♥!

Pffft, you totally know that they do. All the time. And neither side wants to back down and probably has a list of long and elaborate arguments by this point.