Happy Halloween! In honor of the season, we have a hetaliafied tale of wizards, wolves, vampires, and more! We hope you enjoy.

Chapter Summary: Germany begins to think he is losing his mind, Italy begins craving tomatoes, and Norway begins to prepare for what is certain to be the craziest night of the year.


Ch. 1: Bad Moon Rising

October 29, 6:00 PM

The sun is going down and the sky has taken on a brilliant orange hue that seems to only exist in fall. Norway watches it from his window, wary. There is just one more day until the full moon. To make matters worse, this year the moon will land on All Hallows' Eve. Together, they are sure to bring chaos to the world in ways that cannot be explained or understood. Shaking his head and dreading the days to come, Norway turns away from the window and begins to prepare.

XXX

Across the world, poor naive Germany is about to sit down to supper with Italy, completely oblivious to the hell that is about to rain down upon him. He's in a good mood tonight; there is sausage on the stove, beer waiting in his stein, and the promise that after dinner there will be more sex. He has Italy's favorite apron on, and he is even humming to himself. "Vene! Wine or beer?" he calls into the dining room where his lover was waiting.

Italy thinks for a moment, holding his grumbling tummy. He needs something different. He's got this odd taste in his mouth, and suddenly, he must have... "TOMATO! Do we have any tomato juice?"

Germany raises an eyebrow. Odd; tomato is one of Italy's favorite things next to pasta, but it's certainly not what he would normally drink with a nice dinner. They don't really keep juice. "No, but we have wine."

"Tooomaaatooo," Italy whines. Wine will simply not do. Oh! But Romano was here, and he always leaves tomato juice somewhere. He dives into the couch cushions and starts searching. Within moments he lets out a gleeful squeal, returning to his seat with the can. "Can you cut some fresh tomatoes too, Germany?"

Raising both eyebrows at that, Germany opens the fridge and pulls out a tomato. Actually, sausage, pepper, and tomato kabobs sound good. He grabs some pepper as well and begins to slice it down.

"Don't put anything yucky with mine! Just tomato. Maaaybe pasta."

Germany starts. "But sausage is not 'yucky'!" He's almost insulted. But then, it is Italy. He sighs. "Fine." He starts grilling peppers, but leaves the tomato untouched.

Suddenly, Prussia walks through the wall right behind Italy and shouts, "BEER!"

"WAA!" Italy barely manages to keep from knocking over his precious tomato juice as he holds up his white flag and burrows under the tablecloth. "GERMANY! Save me!"

Germany jumps about five feet. "Gil. STOP that. If you're going to cling to some semblance of existence, you should be nicer about it." He opens the fridge anyway, grabbing a bottle and throwing it at his brother, smirking when it goes directly through his waiting hands.

Prussia grumbles, taking three tries to make himself present enough to pick it up. "You're just jealous that I'm this awesome now."

"Of course." He says it sarcastically, even though he is clearly going out of his mind, talking to some kind of twisted figment of his imagination. Prussia died while he was in a bad, bad place. Now there's some kind of…hallucination, claiming he's "too awesome" to fade away. Germany has never believed in ghosts. He's not about to start with his own brother. He's just... Crazy. He and Italy. They're both crazy.

Italy peeks out from under the table. "Oh! Gil, it's you! It's not very nice to be scary like that!" He taps him on the nose with his flag – or rather, through.

Germany carries the kabobs and the tomatoes to the table, shocked when Italy grabs the tomato plate from his hands, then looks down at it forlornly as though there is not enough there. Before Germany has even had the chance to sit down comfortably, Italy is finished the plate and licking every one of his fingers. "Mmm. I feel much better now!"

Germany leers at the finger licking, chewing on his kabob. "How much?" he asks in what he believes to be a seductive tone.

"Oh very much, thank you Ludwig!" Italy proceeds to down his tomato juice and slurp up his little plate of pasta, and even some meat. As always, he cannot read the atmosphere.

Prussia snorts, savoring the memory of the taste of beer even if it goes right through him, pooling on the floor. "Bruder is trying to ask you for a fuck, Vene."

Germany glares at the brother who is not there. "Shut up, Gil. You just want to watch and shake the bed while we..." His face turns red.

"Ohh. Si! Of course there will be sex." Italy grins, sliding into Germany's lap for a kiss. He completely ignores the kabob that floats off of Germany's plate, disappears into Prussia's mouth, and drops right through him.

Prussia would be disappointed if his brother's face wasn't so funny. "Still gonna eat that?"

Germany runs his fingers through Vene's hair, going a little green at the sight of the kabob on the floor. "No." He turns away, shuddering and pulling Italy tighter against him, frowning as he breathes him in. He smells like tomato paste; odd, but Italy-odd, and therefore comforting.

XXX

Somewhere to the east, a howl echoes through the air and wakes the senses of three gentle nations who had never desired the waking. One of those nations finds himself growing tired of working, and restless for fresh air. Lithuania packs his tools away and wanders up the steps into the cool, dark night, heading for the garden.

In the open air, he can smell everything. The smoke from a fireplace miles away, grass touched by dew, the chocolate in Poland's cup... and the other wolf. The Big, Bad Wolf. A low, heavy growl creeps from his throat, and he stalks toward the smell. Russia was here. He'd left his scent, right by the fence to their garden. Unbuttoning his jeans, Lithuania takes himself in hand and marks his territory, then moves to the other side of the garden to do the same.

He takes a jaunt around the house, pissing wherever he finds Russia's scent, until the grounds are marked to his satisfaction. He rinses his hands with one of the yard hoses and heads back around toward the front where he smelled Poland. He smiles to himself. There's no mistaking who Poland has been with; his own scent is all over him.

Poland is enjoying the evening on the swing in their front garden, reading. Lithuania built the swing himself; it's got just the right amount of room for two people to cuddle. He's alone for the moment, but not uncomfortable since he has himself all wrapped in a blanket, a book in his lap, and a cup of hot chocolate on the side table.

A twig snaps somewhere and he glances up. There's no one in sight, but it's dark and the lamp by the bench doesn't illuminate much beyond the porch. It's probably just an animal; they get plenty of them. He takes a sip of his chocolate and breathes it in. It's getting late, and he should go in soon. The moon above is getting fuller; it might even be full on Halloween. That would be fun. It's too bad Lithuania's monthly business trip with his brothers will probably fall on the same few days. He cuddles further into the blanket, deciding he's too comfy to move just yet.

Toris heads toward the porch and grins at the sight of Feliks all curled up under his blanket, looking like an angel. "Well met by moonlight," he calls, shoving his wet hands into his pockets to dry them.

Feliks jumps a little, taken by surprise. Then he smiles. It's only Toris; he must be getting tired. "Hey! Don't sneak up like that; totally uncool."

Lithuania laughs, stepping up onto the porch and leaning over him, tempting him. "It's usually harder to surprise you." Breathing in his scent calms him; it's like sun in the trees, drawing the earth to a new morning. "I guess you're a little out of it."

A lock of deep brown hair falls past Lithuania's face, and Poland tugs on it. "I've been busy and stuff. Fall harvest, remember?" He chuckles. "You should. You keep interrupting, saying I smell too good - way weird, Liet, but I kind of like it."

"You do smell too good." Lithuania sighs, leaning in and leaving a kiss on Poland's nose before moving lower to breathe in his scent at the neck. It's exactly right. Nipping once at his pulse, he pulls away and drops to the swing beside him, drawing the blanket over his legs. "Snuggle. You know I'm way more interesting than that book."

Poland hums, putting the book by his drink so he can cuddle up close. He inhales as he wraps the blanket around them, but has to pull away to sneeze. "You smell like your workshop. And you're covered in wood shavings."

Lithuania blushes. "Sorry." Shifting beneath the blanket, he takes off his shirt and kicks off his pants. He knows the scent irritates his lover, and besides, all Poland has on under the blanket is a flimsy little chemise and a robe.

"S'ok." Poland yawns and happily curls back into him. "You have your business trip soon, yeah?"

"Business trip?" Lithuania frowns, not sure he understands. When it dawns on him he freezes, then sighs. "Yeah. I'll hate it without you though." He can't bear the thought of leaving Poland here all alone, smelling so good and tasting just right. He wraps his arms around him, pulling him closer.

"I miss you so much whenever you leave. The house gets totally quiet, and no matter how much I sing to myself I just end up sounding like a crazy person." Poland runs a hand through Lithuania's hair, nails scratching over his scalp.

Oh, that feels nice. Nicer than usual. Lithuania closes his eyes and leans into it, sighing softly against his ear. "I never like leaving you. I swear, it's like I have attachment issues. I can't stand it when you're not around." Nibbling his earlobe, he skims a hand up Poland's side, sliding it beneath his little chemise.

Poland sighs happily, sleepy but still awake enough to fool around. "Guess we'll just have to make the most of the time we have then, huh?" His hands follow the line of Lithuania's neck, pausing to kneed his shoulders before he rubs over his sides.

Lithuania lets out a whine, dropping his face into Poland's shoulder and barely even feeling his leg spasm erratically beneath the blanket. That feels so good.

"Eep!" For a moment Poland thinks a mouse has crawled in with them, but a peak under the blankets tells him it's only Lithuania, his leg practically vibrating. He moves his hands to rub the leg. "Stop that, you're kicking me."

"Huh?" Lithuania opens his eyes slowly and looks down beneath the blanket. "Oh. Sorry." Blushing slightly, he reaches down and rubs his thigh, trying to make it look like a cramp. "Must've seized up on me. I didn't even feel it." His other hand creeps around, slipping up his lover's spine.

"Poor baby." Poland goes back to rubbing Lithuania's sides, but the moment he leans in to kiss him, the man's leg starts shaking again. He frowns and pulls away. "Your leg okay?"

"Y-Yeah, fine. I don't know why it's doing that." Lithuania laughs, leaning up to kiss his mouth. It's been a very long time since they've done anything intimate outside like this. His senses are amplified: he can smell everything, hear every hitch in his lover's breath. He skims his nails down Poland's spine, sliding his fingers into his pants as he nibbles the sweet spot at the shell of his ear. "How long has it been? Four hours or so?"

Poland groans, his hand moving to caress Lithuania's chest. "If that. You've been on fire the past couple of days. Did you take something from Mr. America again?" He laughs, one hand sinking low to rub against the bulge in Lithuania's boxers.

"Look who's talking." Lithuania grins, rubbing his own hand against Poland. "You were the one who started it last time. I didn't know I looked so irresistible in my apron." He kisses his mouth long and slow, taking his time, enjoying every taste, every touch.

When they pause for air, Poland pants. "But you do look irresistible in that apron. Especially when you're wagging your butt; it's super cute." He shifts, trying to find better balance on the swing. Something bites into his knee, and he reaches down to pull it out. It's just a stick, and with a shrug he tosses it off the porch.

Lithuania sees Poland pull something out from under the swing's cushion and launch it into the air, and quite suddenly he can think of nothing else. His mind blanks and he throws himself from the swing, skidding after it and coming to a stop. He snatches it up and runs back, dropping it into Poland's lap, still in a daze.

Poland blinks at the stick, then at Lithuania, and back again. His heart is hammering; he nearly fell off the swing when Lithuania leapt up. "Um...oookay. That's some of the weirdest foreplay I've ever seen. Wanna tell me exactly what you intend to do with that stick, Liet?"

It's only then that Lithuania comes out of the trance, shaking his head a little and blinking down at the stick. Shit. How's he going to explain this one? "I- I was saving it." Oh crap. What just came out of his mouth?

Poland raises an eyebrow. "Saving it for what?" He picks up the stick, trying to see if there's any special properties to it that a master craftsman might like. It looks like an ordinary stick to him, but Liet's got a funny way of deciding what wood works or doesn't. Judging by the way Lithuania's eyes follow the stick wherever he moves it, it must be something special. He sighs and puts it on the table with the book and (cold) chocolate. "Fine, whatevs. But do me a favor and tell me next time you leave work pieces out here? I don't want to toss another prized 'schticky friend' by accident. Did that once to Germany - totally a bad idea."

"Ah, um…It's okay." He shakes his head a little, taking Poland's hand and drawing him up from the swing. He smirks a little. "Come inside? I'll play with your 'schticky friend'."

Poland grins, letting the blanket fall. It's supposed to be nice tomorrow, so he doesn't bother to grab anything from the table. Besides, there are more pressing matters to attend to.