Your name is [?] FANDOM and you are officially on murder mode. Who is that? Smash them with the War-Hammer. What is that? Smash it with the War-Hammer. The door opens up and you, fearing another group of doctors are coming, screech and throw your nightstand in its direction.
You hear a yell and a familiar looking- oh wait it's Supernatural, he meanwhile, throw down someone to the ground to avoid getting hit. He doesn't stop it as it breaks into multiple pieces on the floor.
He glances around with wide eyes, and then turning to you, glaring. Hey, this chaos isn't your entire fault; the havoc just seemed to go this way. It's not that you 'accidently' mentioned buildings to Sherlock. Nor that he was curled up in the corner of the room under a big table and muttering to himself. That's entirely NOT your fault.
Same with Doctor Who. When the subject of time travel was brought up, he grabbed your arm and tried to take you out the door to something called the TARDIS. He said you two would be wibbly-woobly-timey-wimey buddies, whatever the heck that meant. But right now, you proceed to smash what's let of your heart-rate detector into shards of nothing.
Ḥ̫̰̮̞͉A̳̼
͇̟͉͈̰̲
̹͔̭̙̮̤̲H̻͓̥̝̦A͔̪̹̩̗ͅ
͉͚̙͚͎͖̬
̘͍̗̯̝͙H̤̰̥͔̫̺A̤
Supernatural is yelling at you and your just laughing like nobody's business because you have no idea what he's saying. The whole world is muffled to your power and DESTRUCTION. Yep.
"Homestuck, get over here right NOW!" He shouts, his wings fluffed out like they do when he's frustrated.
Oh yeah, your name is Homestuck. Funny, it seems to slip your mind easily. He waves a hand over at the one fandom that he tackled, and you look at him for a millisecond. It only takes two milliseconds for you to freak.
It's him. IT'S HIM. Why is he here? What is that one fandom's name again? Oh no, you forgot. HA. What is even going on right now? But your fear manages to take hold fast enough for you to shriek and flee over to Doctor Who. Across the room, your War-Hammer is abandoned.
The Doctor looks back and forth between you and that other fandom and starts to try and move you closer. You yelp in protest. The other fandom is looking very pale and scared. What is he doing, don't move toward the ENEMY!
All you remember is he attacked you. He starts trying to talk to Supernatural, but he puts a hand over him mouth and shoves him nearly into you. The fandom is ghostly like, really frightened, and trying to hide in his overcoat. He seems really, really familiar-
Wait. What…happened? You know this guy. Wait is that…no…that's HETALIA right? You start to flail and he takes that as a bad sign, but before he can dart away, you're squealing and hugging him. He looks shocked and out of breath at your embrace. YOU remember. You REMEMBER. You try speaking but it comes out Alternian.
"O͖͕͉̦̜͍ͅh̼ ̨͓͕̠H͟e̜̩͕̬͚͡t̙̘̭̤̲͍̱͟a̵̩̣l̠͉͚͖͉i̢̫̜a̪̬̬͇ͅ ̙͙͎I̡̬̻̼̗̜ ̩͙̘m͉i͎͔͉̜ͅṣ̮͙̰̩̬̕ͅs̛̗̮͕e͓͓̬̬͚ͅd͖̲̫ ̡̳͓̘̤͈ͅy͇͚̘̤̜̤̝oụ̸͙̠̙̪̼!ͅ"͕̬̥̠̣̫
He glances over at Doctor Who. The Doctor smiles with a large grin, and then pats your head like a dog, he being the only one who can understand your weird language.
"He's speaking in his normal language because he hasn't calmed down enough to speak correctly. He says he's missed you."
Hetalia gives a watery smile before hugging you back. This makes your day ten-times better. You can recall everything almost. It's hard to keep a straight sense of mind, but finally you can focus. You missed him, you missed him, and you missed him SO much. You can't describe how much you missed him no matter how many times you repeat it.
Its feels as if you just regained a half of yourself or something. You can remember pretty much EVERYTHING. That's really good. Really, really, good.
You missed his large, dusty coppery-brown coat, his fluffy hair; his bright eyes and his adorable little swirl- curl on the side of his head. As it brings back memories, it brings back the bad ones too, and you frown for a second.
"You okay, Home?" He mummers into your hair as he continues to hold you not seem to let go.
"͠Heh,͜ p͢e̡r͝f̨ect́. ͟Ab̛so͏u͞le̡tl͝y,̵ on҉e̕-hun͏dr̕ed͟ ͟p̨eŕc͟e̷nt̴, ̸per͡fe͟c̡t̨."
You can tell Hetalia doesn't need a translation. His eyes are nearly aglow with happiness. It seems that Supernatural is coaxing Sherlock from under the table in the corner. MLP, who had come back from you don't know where, and Doctor Who are having a conversation about who knows what? They seem to be avoiding or ignoring to the two of you.
This is the first times mostly everyone is reunited and not insane enough to bring out the weapons, excusing the nightstand that lays in shatters at the door. You feel overjoyed at this; even if it's not in the best circumstances and that your own name is still on the edge.
At first glance, you could tell Hetalia was looking tired, but now face-to-face; he looks like he just woke up from a coma after seven months. He could have probably because you've lost track of time for the matter. Everything is kinda chaotic.
"Y͝ou ̧l͘ǫok ́h͏or̡r̡i̸b̶l͏e." You say quietly, not trying to be rude, just stating a fact on how he looks.
He nods unenthusiastically, head bobbing lowly. He takes a hand and wipes his eyes tiredly.
"Yeah, didn't get too much…uh, rest." He stumbles through his words like he's never spoken before. He's really down right now, easily shown. You want to lean forward and hug him and shoosh-pap him, telling him everything will be okay. But you both are not in the mood for this. It wouldn't make a big difference.
You're able to walk him over to the couch on the side of the room, where he nearly collapses on it.
"Can you remember anything?" He mummers, throat hoarse with exhaustion.
"Yeah, some things…like you're Hetalia." You wrap a hand around his shoulders and he just smiles, he knows you're trying hard to think. It's just you forgot for some reason. Maybe they drugged you or something.
"Anything else other than that? How bout' more important things?"
"We̛l̕l,͟ I can͜ ́remember most; don't think I'm an idi͞ot̡. What do you mean 'm҉o͜re͏' important things?" Hetalia seems to tense as you say that and starts to shift uneasily away.
"Oh nothing I just-"
"Like you k̕i͢s͘s̨in̸g me?" He totally freezes. But yet you say this nonchalantly, you're perfectly fine, like you said. His chestnut eyes seem to flit from your own dreary ones to the ground and ceiling. He's officially in panic mode, trying to escape this conversation.
But he can't escape this. Thankfully, the other fandoms partially had given you two space earlier so no-one can hear you two.
"Hetalia, stop f̨r͘eak̛ing out-"
"Homestuck, I'm so sorry and I don't know what happened, I didn't mean it like that and I-"
"Hey, bro, I'm ńǫt m̢ad̨."
"I'm so sorry-Wait," He breaks-off with a startled look on his face, "what?"
"I am not up҉se͘t about this."
"But, I-"You lean forward and press your lips to his, stopping him before he can continue his rant. His goes rigid, but finally loosens while your arms sneak around him. It was only about for three seconds, but Hetalia looked as if it was an hour. He scratches the back of his head, seeming shaky and undecided on what he has to say about this. Technically, he's pretty much in a daze.
"So, does that-"
"Shut up. You're a g͘ơo͝d͡ ͝ kisser; I was only in it for t̢ha͜t̢." You pretty much fall into his lap, tired of all this chaos. Hetalia is looking pleased with himself that he got a kiss from you. Whatever.
Now one thing you can tell is that you knew Hetalia may have liked you a little, but not this much. You're morials and all that, you didn't suspect it. Of course you didn't, because you're really stupid sometimes.
It only takes a few minutes before he's sound asleep. Right now, admittedly, he is SO pathetic its making you just want to hug him and tell him comforting words and such.
You've seen Hetalia crash like this before, maybe not as bad as this, but still. You've also seen him when he's really in charge and perfect. Actually, Hetalia's always been perfect in your mind. Always.
You want to kiss that stupid smirk off his face- of course platonically, you know, not in the love sense. The palest kind, because you two are the palest of pals there ever has been. It's not like you have a crush on your morial or…something.
Heh heh…
…Oh no.