Disclaimer: If I owned Hetalia, it would be more like this:
"I'm Amurica! Land of the free and the debt! Hahaha!"
"Why 'ello, chaps! My name is England and I love tea almost as much as I love scones!"
"Hallo. Germany here. I very much like ze wurst and ze beer. Doitchland!"
"KONICHIWA! WATASHI WA NIHON! KAWAII DESU-KA! YAOI GAKUEN VOCALOID YUGIOH!"
"Ciao, I'm Italy! I love pasta and- BUSTING CAPS! I'LL MESS YOU UP, MOFO! I'M FROM THE MAFIA! I WILL BEAT YOU SO HARD YOU- Pastaaaaaaaaaa~!"
*sweatdrop* And that's why I don't own Hetalia!
TomaCeption
"Romano," A voice from behind him whispered. The aforementioned Italian turned around to see his younger brother standing in the empty hallway, a forlorn expression on his face.
"Sí, Veneciano?" Romano questioned, confused by his brother's out of place expression; his eyebrows were furrowed and his lips were set in a deep pout.
"I... Have to tell you something," Italy gulped and looked up, encouraged to continue by his siblings urging look, "Well... I love you."
Silence.
And then laughter.
"Is that what you were so worried about?" Romano howled as he knelt over, face red from his heavy laughing, "we're supposed to love each other; we're brothers! No homo!"
"Oops!" Italy giggled to himself. Silly boy, always making stupid mistakes like that! But that's what made Veneciano who he is, and Romano wouldn't change that for the, "I said it wrong!"
Wait.
What?
Italy corrected himself, "I love you... Homo."
So.
Veneciano... Loves him. Homo. His dear sweet little brother loves him homo.
The world began spinning out of control all around Romano. He looked around for something to grab when he was jolted back into reality. But, this was different.
Instead of the darkened hallway of his and Italy's shared house, he was now in the sunlit kitchen, the fresh smell of pasta tickling his nose.
Sighing, Romano shook it off as a weird daydream and decided to lay off the coffee for a while.
He focused his attention on his dear sweet brother, who was apparently cooking him a nice dinner, not that he'd object to some of his siblings admittedly delicious cooking.
Was it the light, or did Italy seem a little paler? The sun must've been shining like a bitch because his hair was starkly white!
This didn't process quick enough for the Italian though, who had gone behind his sun-bleached brother and given him a hug around the waist, asking, "Did you make your Fratellino some dinner?"
Romano immediately locked gazes with... Blood-red eyes... And pointed teeth and, "Hell yeah, I did! Keseseses-"
Romano let out an ear-piercing scream.
...and was suddenly back in the hall.
His scream died down until it was completely faded. What... What was going on?
Italy walked towards him from the other side of the hallway. Romano jumped until he realized that yes, this was Italy and not some stalkerish albino.
"Romano?" The boy wrung his hands together in nervousness, "I have to tell you something..."
Ok, this felt a bit like deja vu, but Romano shrugged it off as just another dream.
"Yes, Veneciano?" Romano seemed to speak with no control over what he was saying. He was seriously interested in whatever was making his Fratello so worried.
"I..."
"Yes?"
"I-I'm.."
"Just fucking say it!"
"I'm pregnant!" Italy burst, afterward clutching his hand to his mouth in a useless attempt to take back words already said.
"Idiota, how is that even possib-" Romano began before he was interrupted rudely by his own brother.
"And you're the baby daddy!" So, there that was.
Romano breathed, "Oh fu-"
The spinning feeling returned, making Romano feel sick to his stomach. Then it stopped, leaving Romano in the same room he was in just moments before.
"Just let me swear, mysterious force!" Romano shouted, throwing his head back as he searched madly for the source of this... Magic, he decided it was. It better not be England screwing with him!
"Romano?" A quiet voice shook him out of his angry thoughts. He turned towards it apprehensively.
"Y-yes... Veneciano?" He stuttered nervously. Something seemed different than before.
Italy fiddled with his shirt collar before he spoke, "I- I'm pregnant!"
Romano sighed, sure it was weird and a little IMPOSSIBLE, but at least he knew what was coming.
"And-" before he could even finish speaking, he was interrupted by the clicking of feet on the hardwood floors.
Italy continued, "And Germany's the father!" From out of the shadows, said German materialized.
"Hallo," he deadpanned.
"WHAT?" Romano screamed and lunged for the German. Well, he tried. But the EVERYTHING shook and then he was back in the kitchen.
Man, whoever was controlling this had a really crummy imagination.
Veneciano (the real one this time) stood at the stove, stirring a pot of bolognese sauce. Romano stood stiff as a board, awaiting something- ANYTHING- to happen, and when nothing did, he awkwardly sat down in a kitchen chair.
He felt himself loosen up and finally let out a content sigh. And that was when two small children ran out in front of him.
Squealing with a mixture of shock and fear, Romano fell back in his chair onto the floor. He immediately heard laughter.
"Madre, our Zio Romano sure is silly, sí?" giggled the tan boy with a square hair curl, the child nearly identical to both Italy's.
'This has got to be Italy's kid in what-fucking-ever dimension this is; this boy looks exactly like us! But, wasn't there another one...'
"I think he is très drôle! Honhonhonhonhonhon," Blonde silky hair, blue mischievious eyes, that damn accent! That was... That was... That had to be! It was one hundred percent-
"Bonjour, mon brother-in-law!" A well-manicured hand settled itself on Romano's shoulder; he stiffened and slowly turned around to face that. The bane of his existence: France.
Brother-in-law...
Brother-in-law...
Brother-in-law.
"CHIGIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII!" And yet again, the room was spinning. Colors passed by his eyes as time and space bent and a tear appeared in the fabric of the space-time continuum, and other crap like that.
He vaguely heard his little brother fretting, "come over here Spaghetti and Macaroon!"; Of course they would name their children after food! Romano would have rolled his eyes, had he not been spinning at least 20 miles per hour.
His sight balanced and he found himself alone in the same spotlessly white kitchen he had previously been in.
The Italian man growled, "When will this fucking nightmare end?"
And that was when it happened.
A perfectly innocent tomato appeared amidst all of the spotless silverware. Sighing in relief at the sight of his comfort food, he reached for it when-
SLICE!
The beautiful fruit and been cut open by a mysterious floating knife- which would have been scary in itself, had it not been doing something even scarier in Romano's mind; the knife stabbed into the equal slices and flicking them carelessly into the sink, where an invisible force proceeded to move to the garbage disposal switch.
Romano began to race towards it, legs as heavy as lead, "No!" The invisible thing reached for the switch. South Italy repeated his plea, "No!"
The switch flipped on; blood-red tomato splattered all over the spotless kitchen, staining it a deep shade.
Romano's eyes filled with tears and burnt with a fiery rage. He bellowed at the top of his lungs, "NOOOOOOOOOOOO-"
"NO!" He shot up into a sitting position, sweat dripping down his brow as he breathed heavily; his fists clenched onto his covers as he tried desperately to calm his quickened heart rate. Once it finally registered that, yes this was real life and that no tomatoes had actually been harmed, Romano let out a sigh and decided to walk around for a bit. Sleep would not be coming for a long, LONG while for him.
As soon as he had walked outside, clad in his pink boxers and black wifebeater, he was tackled to the floor by none other than-
"VENECIANO!" Romano yelped fearfully, as glimpses of his many nightmares ran through his mind, "ARE YOU PREGNANT?"
Blank stare.
A tilt of the head.
A quickly reddening face.
Veneciano quickly stood up, covering his out-of-place blush with his hand, "N-no! Is that even possible?"
"You stuttered- HE STUTTERED! Oh god! No! My baby brother is pregnant! Who's is it? It better not be the Wine-Bastard's! It can't be mine- unless it is and I just don't remember it- I knocked up my baby brother! Forgive me, L-"
Two small figures entered at this moment, both the blonde and brunet rubbing at their eyes.
"Why are you screaming?" The boy with the square curl asked, scratching his head in tired confusion.
"Oui," the braided-haired girl yawned in agreement, slipping into her native tongue in her half-awake state, "porquoi are we being woken up now?"
Romano looked horrified. 'These children,' he shook, 'they were from his dr- nightmare!'
Veneciano smiled lightly through his fingers and spoke, "Why don't you two bambinos go to be-"
"No," Romano whimpered, backing himself up to a nearby wall.
"S-"
'Spaghetti', "No!" The nearly hysterical Italian quickly stood to his feet, albeit shakily.
"You too, M-"
"No-no-no-no-NOOOOOOOOOO!" Romano fled, hands covering his ears as he tried to rid his mind of his worst nightmare- a wasted tomato.
A/N: Oh... Oh god. What did I write? I don't even- *shot*
So, I made this to apologize for not posting well enough. I'M SO SORRY! PLEASE DON'T KILL ME! I HAVE FAMILY IN (name of city/state/country you live) AND I'M A VIRGIN, ISN'T THAT PATHETIC ENOUGH AS IT IS? I DON'T WANT TO DIE-IE-IE-IE!
Ahem.
This was supposed to take one day and be a cracky slice of crack, but then I just had to go and make it... This! Someone please, I just can't- breathe.
Translations:
Hallo= Hello (yes, even the disclaimer gets translations. Very cracky translations.)
Doitchland= Germany
'KONICHIWA! WATASHI WA NIHON! KAWAII DESU-KA! YAOI GAKUEN VOCALOID YUGIOH!'= 'HELLO! MY NAME IS JAPAN! CUTE~! HETALIA (see what I did there?) ACADEMY VOCALOID YUGIOH!' (oh god.)
Sí= Yes
Fratellino= Big Brother
Idiota= Idiot
Madre= Mother
Zio= Uncle
Très Drôle= Very Funny
Bonjour= Hello
Mon= My
Oui= Yes
Porquoi= Why
Bambinos= Babies
Mi Dispiace= I'm Sorry
Merci= Thank You
Review. It may save my life.
And here's the omake!
OMAKE
"Why did Romano run away, Vene? And how did he forget that I live with you guys, for that matter?" the teen asked, head tilted towards the Italian-sized hole in the wall where Romano had run out of mere minutes before.
The man in question snapped back into reality, having been staring at the wall for five whole minutes after that... Situation happened.
"I don't know, Seborga. I don't know," he turned to their guest, "mi dispiace, Monaco. I don't know what's gotten into Romano tonight; usually he's more... Sailor-mouthed."
"It's fine!" she replied with a small smile, "merci for letting me stay here!"
Italy reverted back to his usual cheery self, "No problem! Just a favor for my big brother France!"
Monaco and Seborga looked uneasy at the mention of the Frenchman's name, and slowly backed into their rooms. Italy watched them leave, head tilted to the side slightly in confusion.
"Hey, wait!" He called out as a previously unseen shadow loomed menacingly over him, "where are you two going?"
Now safely in their rooms, the two smaller nations could only shudder as they heard the infamous chuckling, "Ohonhonhon..."
Please help me.