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WARNING: Some semi-explicit kanoodling in this chapter.

Chapter Summary: Germany finds himself a victim of the Tomatofae, alongside an oblivious Spain. This could end nicely...or very, very badly.

Ch. 26: It's the Great Tomato, Germany!

The moon is the first thing Germany sees when he opens his eyes, and for a moment he thinks he's losing his mind. Ghastly red and full, it smirks down at him. He shudders. Where is he? That moon looks nearly alien.

He tries to move, but his arms are heavy. Then he looks down and sees why: there are ropes around his wrists and chest, locking him to a... a giant red thing with green vines.

Spain feels the shifting of the rope and waves at his partner in captivity. "Hola amigo! They've certainly gone all out this time, haven't they? It's so cute!"

Germany's eyes widen as he realizes he's not alone. "Ah - Cute... Um..." He stares at Spain, wondering if the man has any inkling of what's going on. He himself is completely lost, but he tries to pretend he knows exactly what's happening. "Yes, yes." He nods agreeably, looking around for the Italians.

Germany is looking in the wrong direction, so Spain helpfully gestures with his head. "They're over there, dancing for us! They must have been practicing."

Both North and South Italy are dancing, but Germany thinks it looks like something unrehearsed, something completely primal. They are also completely naked.

"Hail Tomato, hail!" Romano sings, undulating his hips as he and Vene twirl around each other, weaving magic between them. "The fruit of love and life! Red and bright in blood moonlight, we sacrifice, we sacrifice! Tomato-mato-mato!"

... What're they singing? Germany gulps; even such sexy dancing can't distract him from the fact that the word 'sacrifice' seems to be a theme. "Ah... I'm not sure this is for us."

"Really?" asks Spain, looking devastated. "You think there's someone else? But Romano called me his sacrifice and everything!"

Germany would slap him if he could move his arms. He settles for fixing Spain with a glare that never seems to register. "Sacrifice. Doesn't that word, perhaps, sound a little negative?"

"Eh? But I sacrifice things for 'Mano all the time, and I mean it in a good way! I thought maybe he was finally going to do some for me," says Spain.

"Ve, ve, ve! Tomato is life and love, tomato is free!" Vene spins around, pointing his tomato wand at everything in passing. New tomatoes are popping up left and right with each wave of their wands, and finally Romano takes his brother's hand, spinning him. "Tomato is free! Hail the Tomato!"

Germany flinches. "I would not count on it being the good kind of sacrificing." He starts trying to worm his way free, but his hands are large and the knots are tight. He curses. "Damn it, Antonio! Get us out of here!" Then he realizes he's relying on Spain for salvation. He starts to pray.

"Alright, alright! Dios Mio! You're so pushy." Spain begins squirming, remembering the tricks from his pirate days.

"HEY!" A tomato wand is shoved threateningly into his face. "No escaping! The Great Tomato must be honored!"

Spain swallows. "...ah...Mano, maybe this is a little too much, si? I know Ludwig likes this sort of thing, but I was never into bondage."

"Silence!" Romano snaps, leaning into Spain's face with an all-too serious expression. "You shall stay. The Great Tomato requires a sacrifice of life, of body!" He jabs the wand's point into Spain's chest. "And you're the only one fit for the sacrifice."

Oh Dear Sweet God. The look on Vene's face has Germany half-hard and half-scared. "Vene, please! Please, no, please! I love you! Don't- don't!"

"No! The hour is upon us, the Great Tomato rises. It is time for the sacrifice!" Vene reaches down and caresses Germany's face. "You are ripe and ready."

"You have been ripe for decades," Romano adds, narrowing his eyes. He leans in and grips Spain's shirt, twisting it in his fingers before literally ripping it from Spain's body.

Spain is having Aztec flashbacks, and none of them are good. "Mano...Romano please! HEARTS DO NOT MAKE RAIN!"

"Vene, have you lost your mind? It's me, Ludwig! I love you, please!" Germany begs, fearing for his very life and limb at the hands of the one he most adores.

Vene skips the shirt and goes straight for Germany's pants, ripping them open and whipping them off his body. He smiles, momentarily looking like his usual self. "I know you do Luddy. That's why you're the perfect sacrifice!"

"What does - my pants? Vene!" But suddenly, Vene yanks him into a long, hot kiss and grinds against his body. Germany finds he doesn't mind at all. It's a world and a half better than the alternative.

Romano smirks, leaning in to bite Spain's lower lip, his hands working quickly to divest him of his remaining clothes. "Shut up, fool. A good sacrifice praises the Great Tomato for his reward."

"For...the..." Spain is now completely perplexed, but his pants are gone and Romano is palming him. He's just going to go with it.

Squeezing Spain's cock, Romano tips his head back and looks to the sky. "TOMATOOOOOO!" he howls, before lunging at his sexy sacrificial bastard.

Vene hums, running his hands over Germany. "You know what it means, right? We need your essence, your love. The tomato is a fruit of passion, and the Great Tomato demands such sacrifices." He groans, looking up as he ruts against Germany. Then he smiles widely at the sky. "Look! The GREAT TOMATO! ALL HAIL!"

Germany blinks. Essence and love. As in... "Oh." He breathes, his cheeks flaming. He looks up toward the sky. "Ah. Hail...tomato." The moon shines red overhead, and a grin spreads over his face. "Great Tomato!"