In order to celebrate HETALIA'S anime adaptation. AXIS POWERS HETALIA KINK MEME
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Okay, let's make history and be more epic than these people, shall we?
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This is my first Hetalia fic btw. >>;;;
Also, there's a joke in the recaptcha "pre-swept". I know it.
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He thought in the back of his mind that bringing Romano this time was a bad idea, but Spain was tired of the guy being so…un-cute. He thought that maybe showing him the much cuter overseas children of his would set him straight.
He’d sent a message to the kids so they were gathered when he showed up at his nice, beachside house. Upon seeing the crowd of children, Romano had snickered.
“Geez, I knew there was something weird about you but--“ A look cut him off and Spain waved to the kids.
“Papa, papa!” One tugged on his pant as he passed. “Papa, me and Cuba are tired of working so much. Can you come play with us?” Spain knelt down, messed up the boy’s carefully combed hair by ruffling it, and grinned.
“Oh, of course--" Spain stopped, looking at the boy. “We can play in a little bit!” Romano blinked, looking from behind him. “Oh, this is Romano!”
“Hello, I’m-Ah! No! Big brother, wait for me!” the boy rushed off after a similar-looking boy.
“Who was that?” Spain straightened up, dusted his pants and opened his mouth, before stopping again. After a moment, Romano snorted. “You forgot.”
“No, no, of course not! That was…”
“Well?”
“O-one of my sons…” Spain finished weakly. Romano snickered again.
“Your stupidity is probably on par with my brother’s. You know that?” Spain followed the Italian into the house, insisting he was a good papa to the kids and he remembered each and every one of them, their names and territories and grandparents (because he’d beat them all, but he didn’t add this bit out loud.) Another child had come to ask a question and Romano had watched expectedly, but Spain managed to dance around knowing her name. When they were hungry, and Spain decided that he should be the good papa he was trying to prove he was by making a good meal for all of the children, they ran into a child with rather messy hair making tortillas. Romano smirked, muttered something about it being another nameless kid, so Spain sat next to him and spoke to him.
“Hey there.” He smiled to the boy, who stopped working on the food and smiled.
“Hello, papa.” His tiny hands were wiped on his pants, removing stray corn flour.
“It’s been a while, huh?”
“Yeah, it’s been a while.” Silence fell over the two. “I miss grandpa.”
“Sorry.” Silence again, this time much more awkward. To keep the boy from stewing in his thoughts and becoming angry, Spain quickly said, “So has France been any bother?”
“Nah. He’s been staying away from me.”
“Not trying to invade, or stir up people?”
“’Course not. But you might wanna ask Dominicana. He’s on the island with the French and what’s-her-name, right?”
Spain mentally smacked himself and Romano laughed. “Right, right. Just…just making sure you’re safe from them.”
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As the children gathered in the prospect of food, Spain realized he was probably fighting a losing cause at remembering names. The boys and girls all looked rather similar, after all, and they babbled on and offered no hints as to who they were. Some of them stuck with others, and said names, and it’d help him remember, but with twenty-two kids, it was even harder to keep all the little friendships and rivalries straight in his mind. Much to his displeasure, Romano seemed to have already gotten all of their names down. A girl came and sat next to him, swinging her legs as she grinned up to him.
“Papa, I’ve been reading the bible and practicing Spanish. Can you tell?”
“Yes, mama, I can tell.” He smiled to her.
“Papa, papa, can we play now?” the boy from before tugged at his shirt, the taller boy he’d chased after close behind.
“Now? I’m not done!” He wiped away a little bit of tomato on the boy’s face.
“Please?” He gave the man puppy-dog eyes, and Spain couldn’t resist the boy’s cute looks. He glance up, expectedly hoping Romano was watching what the child was doing, but sadly, the Italian was listening to a boy-Peru or Chile, Spain narrowed it down to-speak and wasn’t taking note of the cute child’s actions.
“Alright, alright.”
“Yay!” The boy took Spain and the other boy’s hands and led them away from the other kids. Spain glanced down to the other boy, hoping, praying that he’d remember their names soon. He racked his brain. The boys were brothers; he’d picked up that much. The older was…Cuba? Was that what the smaller one had said?
The smaller boy had led them outside onto the beach, where it was twilight, the light from the beachside house pouring out onto the sands. The boy let go of the others’ hands and ran towards the water. Spain glanced down to the one that hadn’t darted off. He was Cuba. So who was the other? Oh, right. Cuba’s brother, apparently. So that meant--
“Ay, bendito!” the little one had breathed. “It’s so pretty, right?” He stepped forward. “Can I swim?”
“No, Dominicana, it’s too dark.” The others froze. Cuba’s glare could be felt through his skull, and the other’s look of shock warped to a look of utter and total sadness, and the boy wiped away at the tears forming at his eyes. “Did I say something wrong?” Spain asked, realizing that was the wrong thing to stay a moment too late.
“Papa doesn’t remember me!” the boy wailed loudly. A few curious children had been peering out of the house, Spain realized as he looked around. “Papa doesn’t care about me!” Spain doubled over at the swift kick to his shin, yelping as the other of the two marched over, took the wailing boy’s wrist and pulled him inside to do damage control. The other kids looked shocked.
“Papa, do you remember me?”
“He forgot us!”
“Papa’s so mean!” Spain raised his hands, waving them around.
“No, no! That’s wrong! I-I just…said the wrong thing!” Spain defended as a few looked angry.
“Hey, you forgot me too! That’s why you were asking me weird questions!” The boy who’d been making tortillas had stomped his foot loudly before marching away fuming.
“Papa, you forgot Mexico, too? That’s so bad!” The little yells and the children’s anger was felt until the children, being children, after all, fell asleep not too much later.
Romano, ever the un-cute, unhelpful guy, leaned over to Spain as he was lying down, trying to mentally erase the previous few hours, and muttered into his ear.
“The kid you made cry earlier was Puerto Rico, dumbass.”
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1. Umm…Anon sees Cuba as being a good brother to the crybaby younger brother Puerto Rico because they did team up against Spain a bunch of times. They failed epically and had to have the US come in and help them, but ehh. They still cooperated a bunch.
2. I’m not sure if France actually did try to invade the Dominican Republic, but I’m pretty sure Haiti did.
Also I am stupid and did not realize this is twice the character limit. ._.
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Nice fic!
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so cute anon♥
thanks
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Btw, loved Mexico.
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And no matter how dense/stupid/oblivious/forgetful Spain is, he's still a HOT Papa.
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And no...the USA was CLEARLY looking out for their own interests (all that being part of their stupid Manifest Destiny) and they broke many promises which is why Phillipines declared war very soon after and got their independence after WWII. Plus, the USA would've never won against Spain had it not been for the Cubans, Phillipines, and even some Puerto Rican support since they were unused to the hot, humid weather and even lost a few battles. But, they were DEFINITELY not in it for us. In fact, scholars say that PR had more autonomy at the very end of Spain's rule than we have now. So yeah...you might wanna go back and research that a bit more. -_-
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