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Chapter Summary: Germany witnesses Italy's transformation into the most terrifying of supernatural creatures: the tomatofae.

Ch. 12: Transfiguration

October 31, 12:00 PM

To Germany's great dismay, Italy's tomato phase continued. In fact, it grew worse. The incredible libido that apparently went with it worked in his favor, but even Germany has his limits. Those limits certainly end when he finds his paperwork covered in tomato juice after the last round on his desk. "ITALY! Come here. We need to talk about this...this unhealthy obsession!"

With a bright grin that is in no way appropriate for a chastisement or an intervention, Italy bounces into the room. "Ve, Luddy?"

There's something a little odd about him. Odder than usual. Something...sparkly. Wary, Germany steps forward and takes hold of Italy's shoulders. "Are you alright?"

Clearly, he isn't. His eyes are wide, his grin is bigger than it's been all week, and he is practically vibrating with energy. But now is not the time for this examination. Germany pulls back. "Your tomato obsession has gotten out of hand!"

"Tomatoooos!" Italy's eyes sparkle and he claps his hands. "We must prepare, we must honor the coming!"

"The coming?" Germany frowns, stepping back a little further. "Vene, what are you talking about?" He can see sparkles, slowly surrounding his beloved. Oh God... Dust. It has to be dust. Glittery dust, that smells like tomato sauce.

"Of the Great Tomato!" Italy exclaims, as though it is an event worthy of the utmost respect and awe. "It's getting closer now. The Great Tomato always arrives to bless the fields, and we must make sure that the coming is properly prepared for and celebrated!"

It is not just the "dust" now; his skin is glowing pink, and it's getting brighter with each moment. Germany's eyes blow wider than his usual tea biscuits. He steps back toward his desk and finally falls over it, his papers flying everywhere. This isn't real. This isn't real. This is... Dust! Dust and light coming through the window, making his lover look pink and sparkly. "Ah, Vene..."

There's a buzzing in Italy's head, a call, a connection, a sign. He looks up and out towards the window, eyes gone very far away. Then, quite suddenly, he curls in on himself, looking as though he might be ill.

"Vene!" Instinct taking over, Germany throws himself from the desk and rushes to his lover. His arms encircle him as he pulls him close against his chest. The scent of tomato sauce is stronger now; it takes over almost everything in the room and steals his breath.

Italy squirms in his grip, until Germany realizes that it is not Italy squirming, but something in his skin. He tries hard not to panic, to settle into the no-nonsense commander. But his poor little Italy might be seriously ill, and he is frightened out of his mind. To make matters worse, Italy starts laughing. Laughing, and glowing brighter, with all that dust and something shifting in his back and - BAM!

Something bursts from Italy, sending Germany sprawling clear across the room. The red-pink light is overpowering, and combined with the smell it makes him want to be sick. Over it all, Italy shouts. "TOOOMAAATOOO!"

Germany grips at the wood of his desk, any vestige of the authoritative commander gone in a flash of panic. What... WHAT? He doesn't know if he should scream or try to talk Italy back from the... the faedom. Wings are sprouting from his lover's back: giant wings, red and butterfly-shaped, but they look like they are made out of the largest tomato slices Germany has ever seen.

Italy the tomato fairy straightens slowly. He looks down at himself, glowing and covered in fairy dust. His shirt is ripped where the wings came through; he tests them carefully, letting them move and spread the joyous sent of tomatoes through the room. Then he looks down at his hand. There's a wand in it: a long stick with a little plump tomato perched on top. When he moves it, the wand leaves a trail of fairy dust in the air.

Germany lets out a funny noise, drawing Italy's attention to the desk. He cocks his head, observing his lover and the desk he is resting on. Huh; that paperweight. It is round, and that...is tomato. It should be a tomato. He raises his wand and points it at the paperweight. "TOMATO!"

Yelping like a dog that's been stepped on, Germany jumps from the desk. When he looks back, his globe paperweight is now a tomato. Raising an eyebrow, he looks to Italy, less scared but still wary. Raising his hands in defense, he approaches his lover. "Vene...?"

"Si?" says Italy, starry eyed as he turns to his lover. He frowns, noticing lack of tomato-based color in Germany's skintone. "Ve! You don't look very good. Did you see Gilbert again?"

"Well, you see..." Germany takes another step and presses his lips together. "You are looking rather odd yourself. And wingy." Carefully, he tries to reach out and take the wand away.

Instantly Italy pulls back and smacks his hand with the wand. "No! Bad Ludwig, never touch!"

Yelping again in an exceedingly unmanly tone, Germany jolts back. "Oh Gott." He shakes out his hand, trying to recover. "Ah... Do you think perhaps you have had too much tomato?"

Italy narrows his eyes, and suddenly the room goes uncomfortably red and humid. "There is never too much tomato. You must respect the tomato, Ludwig, or the Great Tomato will bring pestilence upon you!" Just as quickly, the feeling dissipates. Italy spins, getting glitter everywhere. "So play nice, okay?"

"Okay!" Germany says, feeling like he has just escaped the reaper; his strange, strange reaper, who is simply turning things into tomatoes. But his reaper all the same.

"Hooray!" Italy grins. Then he takes a slow walk around Ludwig, inspecting every inch of him. Especially the naughty ones. "Lu-ddy," he sings into his ear, "would you do something for me?"

Oh, that tone... even when he's acting insane, it makes Germany melt. "Anything, liebschen. Tell me what you want," he purrs, shuddering slightly as one of those wings caresses his arm.

Italy giggles, turning once more to line his front up with Germany's, chest-to-chest. "The Great Tomato is coming for the crops, so that they will be healthy and plentiful. So you know how we honor it?" He licks up the side of Germany's neck. "Lots and lots of sex."

"I can do that." Germany gulps, reaching out to rub his fingers over the wings. They actually feel like tomato slices, yet the way Italy reacts to that touch makes it all worth it. He still has no idea what the hell is going on, but he'll figure it out later.