APH: Painting Smoke -Part 1/2 ((Japan, GermanyxN.Italy))
((I felt like writing but was too brain-dead to think of any ideas, so I checked out a prompt-generator online. It told me to....
Write a story in which these three objects appear and are important:
"A campfire, a damp towel, and a Japanese print."
Hence, a fic about the Axis Powers! ))
Painting Smoke
Something deep inside the fire popped, and an angry black hiss snaked its way out from between the stacked logs. The wood was screaming and crackling, and giving off a strong, musky scent that subdued the smell of sea salt and eased the German's stomach. He dragged himself closer to the fire, the shadows in his crinkled brow darkened dramatically by the flickering light. His boots rested heavily at the fire's edge. As close as he dared bring them without feeling the lick of flames at his toes...
He watched a lazy swirl of smoke detach itself from its brothers and whisk away into the night, caught by a shifting ocean breeze. It vanished when he blinked and he wondered vaguely where it had gone- if it had really gone anywhere at all- and if it was all alone. No. Now was not the time for sentimental thoughts. The kind of thoughts the night brought on so easily, when he was on his own with the quiet.
The dull rush of waves had become a natural sound to him, like breathing. Even though he no longer noticed it, the rythym was hypnotizing. Ludwig crossed his arms, settling farther into the sand, straining to keep his eyes open. His forehead ached from lack of sleep and the thick muscles in his neck and shoulders seemed to have cramped themselves into a permanent knot. He ignored the pain, too, because it did him no good to notice it. The only thing that demanded his focus at the moment was the struggle to stay awake. His strength was being tested to the limits. Every other minute his mind would wander, or his tired lids would drop shut, just for a second. He would curse himself and jump up to do a hundred pushups, or run a lap around the perimeter of the camp. After a few hours of abuse, his arms were starting to tremble in protest. It was no good. He was going to have to start training more intensely in the daytime. He would have to push the other two harder, as well. They'd been slacking off lately... even more than usual, if that was possible.
Ludwig's gaze drifted over the sleeping forms stretched out on the other side of the campfire. Even in the poor light, he could tell the men apart. Kiku was lying silently on his back with his arms tucked tight against his body, his chest barely rising with each gentle pulse of his heart, slow like the tide. His face was impossible to make out, but Ludwig knew it wore a softness- an innocence- that was intriguing. It was...vulnerable. A strange contrast with Japan's usual, stoic self. Beside him, the childlike Feliciano lay, as if a mirror opposite. His limbs were spread out stubbornly in all directions, refusing to be still. Every few moments, they would twist or squirm in his sleeping bag, moving along with the high-pitched whimpers slipping from his lips. He was having nightmares. Ludwig acknowledged this, but couldn't bring himself to do anything. Waking Italy now would only cause a ruckus that would leave them all exhausted in the morning. That would be impractical. So he just watched.
A gold shine was resting at the top of the Italian's head, like a halo. It was only in these moments that Germany saw the other Axis Powers this way. Unguarded. It made him both happy and sad at the same time, because he knew that there were some things- memories- that the two of them could never share with him... painful memories that would never be explained. Maybe they were impossible to explain. Ludwig found himself frowning again and tried to relax into a blank expression... Blank. No more of this nonsense. He was supposed to be keeping watch. Another cool breeze blew in off the water, ruffling the leaves in the jungle behind them. A week ago, in Ludwig's ears, the sound would have meant the approach of enemies. But his hearing had become sharp over the weeks they'd spent on this godforsaken beach... He knew the quickened hammer of his own heart was just a phantom of the imagination.
"N-no...stop....I surrender...p-please...."
Germany's entire body tensed this time. His eyes locked again onto Italy's shape in the darkness. It was shaking violently. Feliciano had curled up on his side, wrapping his hands protectively over his head. The slope of his waist was clearly visible now, dipping underneath the sheets in a sleek way that could hold even Germany's attention for longer than it should have. The redhead's chest was heaving and he was gasping as though he were being choked. His fingers clutched blindly at the air, reaching out, perhaps, to plead with his invisible captor.
"Please, d-don't....don't hurt me-"
Before he could allow the time to argue with himself (the more logical, rational side of himself...), Ludwig found he was crouched at the edge of the water, soaking his towel in the waves where they brushed the shore, carrying the dripping cloth back with him to the fireside. He knelt at Italy's side and pressed the towel softly to the nation's cheek, wiping away the tears and the cold sweat that had broken out there. Feliciano jerked out of his reach, bolting upright in a panic. His eyes were wide open but unseeing, glazed over with terror. The larger man could not supress a shudder at the sight. He placed his hands on Feliciano's shoulders and eased him down again.
"It...It's alright." Ludwig muttered a bit awkwardly, in what he hoped was a soothing tone. "I'm here." He felt his own ears burn a bright hot red at those last words. Somehow...this wasn't right. But what were you supposed to do to calm a person having night terrors? He took a small bit of comfort in the fact that Kiku was not awake to witness his miserable attempts at caretaking.
"Germany-san?"
Scheiße.
"Is there something wrong with Italy-san?" Kiku's monotone voice was carried across the wind to them, mixing with the smoke of the last dying embers. How long had it been since he'd last tended the fire? Ludwig couldn't remember.
"Uh. Sorry to wake you. Italy is having nightmares. He's being quite noisy about it." The towel dropped from his hand as if it had bitten him. Feliciano let out a small sighing sound, but didn't stir. He had wiggled his head into Germany's lap and grabbed a few fistfuls of the man's shirt as well. There was a small, contented smile on his face. He did not appear to have plans to move anytime soon. Japan seemed to suddenly realize the position his comrades were in, because he lifted a hand to his mouth and then dropped onto his back with (what Ludwig thought was) an extremely hasty and flustered:
"VerywellthenIapologizefordisturbingyou."
Ludwig felt his face flush and repressed the inexplicable urge to break something. He threw an accusatory glance at the now-peaceful Italian, who only hiccuped once in response. Even in his sleep, could he not go more than a few minutes without causing trouble for everyone around him?? Ludwig let out a weighted sigh. The fire was dying out. It was going to get very cold for them, very soon. With careful precision, he tried to pry away the Italian's hands in order to get up.
"Nnnn Germany." The look that crossed Feliciano's face made Ludwig pause. The sleeping man's eyebrows were scrunched tight with worry and his hands held on tighter than before, with a strength that Germany would not have thought he possessed... Italy's captive let out another aggravated sigh and made himself as comfortable as he could. It was going to be a long night.
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((Part 2/2 coming soon! I still gotta use that last word! :D))
Write a story in which these three objects appear and are important:
"A campfire, a damp towel, and a Japanese print."
Hence, a fic about the Axis Powers! ))
Painting Smoke
Something deep inside the fire popped, and an angry black hiss snaked its way out from between the stacked logs. The wood was screaming and crackling, and giving off a strong, musky scent that subdued the smell of sea salt and eased the German's stomach. He dragged himself closer to the fire, the shadows in his crinkled brow darkened dramatically by the flickering light. His boots rested heavily at the fire's edge. As close as he dared bring them without feeling the lick of flames at his toes...
He watched a lazy swirl of smoke detach itself from its brothers and whisk away into the night, caught by a shifting ocean breeze. It vanished when he blinked and he wondered vaguely where it had gone- if it had really gone anywhere at all- and if it was all alone. No. Now was not the time for sentimental thoughts. The kind of thoughts the night brought on so easily, when he was on his own with the quiet.
The dull rush of waves had become a natural sound to him, like breathing. Even though he no longer noticed it, the rythym was hypnotizing. Ludwig crossed his arms, settling farther into the sand, straining to keep his eyes open. His forehead ached from lack of sleep and the thick muscles in his neck and shoulders seemed to have cramped themselves into a permanent knot. He ignored the pain, too, because it did him no good to notice it. The only thing that demanded his focus at the moment was the struggle to stay awake. His strength was being tested to the limits. Every other minute his mind would wander, or his tired lids would drop shut, just for a second. He would curse himself and jump up to do a hundred pushups, or run a lap around the perimeter of the camp. After a few hours of abuse, his arms were starting to tremble in protest. It was no good. He was going to have to start training more intensely in the daytime. He would have to push the other two harder, as well. They'd been slacking off lately... even more than usual, if that was possible.
Ludwig's gaze drifted over the sleeping forms stretched out on the other side of the campfire. Even in the poor light, he could tell the men apart. Kiku was lying silently on his back with his arms tucked tight against his body, his chest barely rising with each gentle pulse of his heart, slow like the tide. His face was impossible to make out, but Ludwig knew it wore a softness- an innocence- that was intriguing. It was...vulnerable. A strange contrast with Japan's usual, stoic self. Beside him, the childlike Feliciano lay, as if a mirror opposite. His limbs were spread out stubbornly in all directions, refusing to be still. Every few moments, they would twist or squirm in his sleeping bag, moving along with the high-pitched whimpers slipping from his lips. He was having nightmares. Ludwig acknowledged this, but couldn't bring himself to do anything. Waking Italy now would only cause a ruckus that would leave them all exhausted in the morning. That would be impractical. So he just watched.
A gold shine was resting at the top of the Italian's head, like a halo. It was only in these moments that Germany saw the other Axis Powers this way. Unguarded. It made him both happy and sad at the same time, because he knew that there were some things- memories- that the two of them could never share with him... painful memories that would never be explained. Maybe they were impossible to explain. Ludwig found himself frowning again and tried to relax into a blank expression... Blank. No more of this nonsense. He was supposed to be keeping watch. Another cool breeze blew in off the water, ruffling the leaves in the jungle behind them. A week ago, in Ludwig's ears, the sound would have meant the approach of enemies. But his hearing had become sharp over the weeks they'd spent on this godforsaken beach... He knew the quickened hammer of his own heart was just a phantom of the imagination.
"N-no...stop....I surrender...p-please...."
Germany's entire body tensed this time. His eyes locked again onto Italy's shape in the darkness. It was shaking violently. Feliciano had curled up on his side, wrapping his hands protectively over his head. The slope of his waist was clearly visible now, dipping underneath the sheets in a sleek way that could hold even Germany's attention for longer than it should have. The redhead's chest was heaving and he was gasping as though he were being choked. His fingers clutched blindly at the air, reaching out, perhaps, to plead with his invisible captor.
"Please, d-don't....don't hurt me-"
Before he could allow the time to argue with himself (the more logical, rational side of himself...), Ludwig found he was crouched at the edge of the water, soaking his towel in the waves where they brushed the shore, carrying the dripping cloth back with him to the fireside. He knelt at Italy's side and pressed the towel softly to the nation's cheek, wiping away the tears and the cold sweat that had broken out there. Feliciano jerked out of his reach, bolting upright in a panic. His eyes were wide open but unseeing, glazed over with terror. The larger man could not supress a shudder at the sight. He placed his hands on Feliciano's shoulders and eased him down again.
"It...It's alright." Ludwig muttered a bit awkwardly, in what he hoped was a soothing tone. "I'm here." He felt his own ears burn a bright hot red at those last words. Somehow...this wasn't right. But what were you supposed to do to calm a person having night terrors? He took a small bit of comfort in the fact that Kiku was not awake to witness his miserable attempts at caretaking.
"Germany-san?"
Scheiße.
"Is there something wrong with Italy-san?" Kiku's monotone voice was carried across the wind to them, mixing with the smoke of the last dying embers. How long had it been since he'd last tended the fire? Ludwig couldn't remember.
"Uh. Sorry to wake you. Italy is having nightmares. He's being quite noisy about it." The towel dropped from his hand as if it had bitten him. Feliciano let out a small sighing sound, but didn't stir. He had wiggled his head into Germany's lap and grabbed a few fistfuls of the man's shirt as well. There was a small, contented smile on his face. He did not appear to have plans to move anytime soon. Japan seemed to suddenly realize the position his comrades were in, because he lifted a hand to his mouth and then dropped onto his back with (what Ludwig thought was) an extremely hasty and flustered:
"VerywellthenIapologizefordisturbingyou."
Ludwig felt his face flush and repressed the inexplicable urge to break something. He threw an accusatory glance at the now-peaceful Italian, who only hiccuped once in response. Even in his sleep, could he not go more than a few minutes without causing trouble for everyone around him?? Ludwig let out a weighted sigh. The fire was dying out. It was going to get very cold for them, very soon. With careful precision, he tried to pry away the Italian's hands in order to get up.
"Nnnn Germany." The look that crossed Feliciano's face made Ludwig pause. The sleeping man's eyebrows were scrunched tight with worry and his hands held on tighter than before, with a strength that Germany would not have thought he possessed... Italy's captive let out another aggravated sigh and made himself as comfortable as he could. It was going to be a long night.
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((Part 2/2 coming soon! I still gotta use that last word! :D))