Die Wörter, die wir dalassen (1/5)
anonymous
August 2 2009, 10:54:10 UTC
There was a time when Japan had hidden in his house for long centuries. It hadn’t really happened by choice- the next thing he knew he was spending time within the walls of his palace, reading books and painting inked plum flowers. China came knocking occasionally. Korea less so. But even still, he was busy with feuding lords and green tea and clockwork Karakuri, so it was alright
( ... )
Die Wörter, die wir dalassen (2/5)
anonymous
August 2 2009, 10:57:58 UTC
Japan admits to himself in the late 1700s that love and Portugal have nothing to do with it.
It’s Europe. And Culture. And other languages, low in his ear, playing loop with his memories as he pants and groans and arches his back.
Spain comes around with tomatoes and paella, rice with spices that linger on his tongue. Japan greedily swallows it down, green eyes and flamencos and compasses, and only if he’d tilt his head a little closer-
-France. Atelier, omelette, restaurant. A shameless flirt in frills and finery, Kiku feels himself guilty beneath his silks as Francis teaches him aesthetics. Dessan- it’s a word now, and Japan moans it, new culture bombarding his senses and his children as they feel their world expanding. Oh God, how could he have lived without this feeling?
Holland teaches him coffee, and gumi, and randoseru, the smell of sickly sweet smoke making his head dizzy with more than lust. Arthur comes later, high masts and wooden ships and colonialism; Japan comes after that, trying to pronounce his name,
( ... )
Die Wörter, die wir dalassen (3/5)
anonymous
August 2 2009, 11:01:11 UTC
Japan returns sweaty and aching after a session of sparring with Prussia. Germany is sitting on the engawa, looking out into the rock garden in the early spring cold. He jerks to attention as Japan stands and watches him.
“My…my brother?” Germany manages in Japanese. Although already deeper than any Japanese man could hope for, Kiku knows his voice will thicken with age- Germany is hardly more than a teenager. Something swoops tantalisingly low in Kiku’s stomach at the tones and inflections that make his own language sound so indecent.
“He is out in Nagasaki town.” Japan takes a soundless step forward. “What do you have there, Doitsu-san?”
There is a small bundled cloth on the floorboards. Germany opens it carefully and lays it out to show the smaller man kneeling in front of him. Steel glints on soft leather as the light hits the various instruments and bottles. Germany struggles for a moment, trying to find words. “For…for fixing. Ah…fixing injuries.”
“Healing, Doitsu-san?”
He nods but his eyebrows speak discomfort. “
( ... )
Die Wörter, die wir dalassen (4/5)
anonymous
August 2 2009, 11:06:19 UTC
He halts outside the shouji door to Ludwig’s room. Something isn’t quite right, Kiku thinks to himself, lacquer tray with a nightcap of shouchuu in one hand. His hand is still raised to slide it open, but he’d heard something.
There. Again. Moving closer, Japan presses himself against the pillar, ear inches from the crack in the doorframe. Something low. A muttering, guttural. Germany.
A moan. Kiku freezes.
He knows with the conviction that only a guilty man has. He knows- the breaths, the barely audible shuffling- it’s sex. It’s sex, the sound, pure and rough against the cotton of the futon.
Ludwig says something into the night air, something tense and strained- his voice-
He almost moans, but he claps one hand over his mouth in time. In his mind he can see it as clear as the light from the moon on his feet, Germany, young, arched on the mats, hand slow and strong, denying himself, teasing and gasping in time with the sounds from across the rice-paper. Another word, so raw, rawer than Prussia, raw sex in his ears as
( ... )
Die Wörter, die wir dalassen (5/5)
anonymous
August 2 2009, 11:31:46 UTC
Overwhelmed, guilty, Ludwig, not yet Germany, stares pleadingly at him. “Don’t tell Prussia. Please don’t tell Prussia-“
Japan, shaking himself, barely containing the coil in his stomach (Begging in German, oh-GOD), takes him by the shoulder, hushing him. “I’m not angry,” he reassures him with the calm of a con artist, clever fingers touching. “Please calm down Ludwig. I …I understand. I merely wish to know what…how one describes what you were doing in your language.”
He’s never done this. Never. Not with Francis, not with Arthur, not with Portugal. Never has he been this bold. He shouldn’t be- he’s Japan, reserved, not meant to. Not meant to, but the Cultural opening at Nagasaki- it’s driven him insane and this is the proof, the inane proof of the guilt between his thighs. It feels like a confession but it’s not. It’s learning the act that he does to Germany’s muted breaths, learning the language, the words, the very act itself-
Silence. Then, “…onanieren. Verb. Onanieren Japan smiles. A scholar’s smile. “Ah.” Our little
( ... )
Re: author's note
anonymous
August 2 2009, 15:42:01 UTC
Utterly fantastic. ♥ I love how there's this strong element of strangeness to it, it really plays up the foreigness that comes with cultural exchange. It's awkward and fascinating, and absolutely lovely.
(My heart nearly broke for poor Kiku at the end, there, too!)
Re: author's note
anonymous
August 2 2009, 17:15:45 UTC
recaptcha: suitor 12. Anon doesn't think there were that many visiting nations in this piece...
I fell in love with this piece when I heard the repetition of Gold for Portugal, and the emphasis on words for things - it shows the tracks of Japan-the-character's mind, the things that fascinate him. The parallels drawn between himself and his land, and his people, and how they think changing how he thinks, are - so rare in this fandom, and so spectacularly done here.
The carrying-over of isolation, even after he has opened his borders, is so sad and so lovely - that he loves at a distance, and accepts this; that he is alone in all of these - he is so alone in his head, except for that moment in the garden with young!Germany.
The way you wrote the scene with Japan-Prussia-Germany all in the same room was just so well done - now, barely two minutes later, what sticks in my mind is Japan's attention on Germany, that Prussia was this annoying background that he had to put up with.
Re: author's note
anonymous
August 6 2009, 05:02:55 UTC
That... was absolutely wonderful.
I almost de-anon'd due to how overwhelmed I feel right now, really.
Well. All I want to say is that was hot, your writing is gorgeous, I love how kinky your Kiku is and I just really love the overall atmosphere. The last bit with the Axis was especially jdkljs. ♥
Re: author's note
anonymous
August 7 2009, 13:38:15 UTC
*is floored* That was incredible, anon. Very plausible for the characters (I feel sorta sorry for Japan, always watching and wanting but never really touching) and extremely hot. ♥
Re: author's note
anonymous
August 8 2009, 23:25:49 UTC
I'm in awe. It's a lovely, wonderfully stylistic and historically accurate piece that's amazingly sensuous. Japan's fascination with cultural exchanges and his growing obsession with Germany was very, very well executed. What a way to take a seemingly simple request and really making it astounding.
Re: author's note
anonymous
August 13 2009, 18:26:13 UTC
U-uh... Sorry, my mind just went completely blank... I don't think I can add much more to this but... That was one of the best fills ever. EVER. Your words and characterizations were amazing and so... sexy.~ Thank you, this made my day.
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It’s Europe. And Culture. And other languages, low in his ear, playing loop with his memories as he pants and groans and arches his back.
Spain comes around with tomatoes and paella, rice with spices that linger on his tongue. Japan greedily swallows it down, green eyes and flamencos and compasses, and only if he’d tilt his head a little closer-
-France. Atelier, omelette, restaurant. A shameless flirt in frills and finery, Kiku feels himself guilty beneath his silks as Francis teaches him aesthetics. Dessan- it’s a word now, and Japan moans it, new culture bombarding his senses and his children as they feel their world expanding. Oh God, how could he have lived without this feeling?
Holland teaches him coffee, and gumi, and randoseru, the smell of sickly sweet smoke making his head dizzy with more than lust. Arthur comes later, high masts and wooden ships and colonialism; Japan comes after that, trying to pronounce his name, ( ... )
Reply
“My…my brother?” Germany manages in Japanese. Although already deeper than any Japanese man could hope for, Kiku knows his voice will thicken with age- Germany is hardly more than a teenager. Something swoops tantalisingly low in Kiku’s stomach at the tones and inflections that make his own language sound so indecent.
“He is out in Nagasaki town.” Japan takes a soundless step forward. “What do you have there, Doitsu-san?”
There is a small bundled cloth on the floorboards. Germany opens it carefully and lays it out to show the smaller man kneeling in front of him. Steel glints on soft leather as the light hits the various instruments and bottles. Germany struggles for a moment, trying to find words. “For…for fixing. Ah…fixing injuries.”
“Healing, Doitsu-san?”
He nods but his eyebrows speak discomfort. “ ( ... )
Reply
There. Again. Moving closer, Japan presses himself against the pillar, ear inches from the crack in the doorframe. Something low. A muttering, guttural. Germany.
A moan. Kiku freezes.
He knows with the conviction that only a guilty man has. He knows- the breaths, the barely audible shuffling- it’s sex. It’s sex, the sound, pure and rough against the cotton of the futon.
Ludwig says something into the night air, something tense and strained- his voice-
He almost moans, but he claps one hand over his mouth in time. In his mind he can see it as clear as the light from the moon on his feet, Germany, young, arched on the mats, hand slow and strong, denying himself, teasing and gasping in time with the sounds from across the rice-paper. Another word, so raw, rawer than Prussia, raw sex in his ears as ( ... )
Reply
Japan, shaking himself, barely containing the coil in his stomach (Begging in German, oh-GOD), takes him by the shoulder, hushing him. “I’m not angry,” he reassures him with the calm of a con artist, clever fingers touching. “Please calm down Ludwig. I …I understand. I merely wish to know what…how one describes what you were doing in your language.”
He’s never done this. Never. Not with Francis, not with Arthur, not with Portugal. Never has he been this bold. He shouldn’t be- he’s Japan, reserved, not meant to. Not meant to, but the Cultural opening at Nagasaki- it’s driven him insane and this is the proof, the inane proof of the guilt between his thighs. It feels like a confession but it’s not. It’s learning the act that he does to Germany’s muted breaths, learning the language, the words, the very act itself-
Silence. Then, “…onanieren. Verb. Onanieren Japan smiles. A scholar’s smile. “Ah.” Our little ( ... )
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(My heart nearly broke for poor Kiku at the end, there, too!)
Reply
I fell in love with this piece when I heard the repetition of Gold for Portugal, and the emphasis on words for things - it shows the tracks of Japan-the-character's mind, the things that fascinate him. The parallels drawn between himself and his land, and his people, and how they think changing how he thinks, are - so rare in this fandom, and so spectacularly done here.
The carrying-over of isolation, even after he has opened his borders, is so sad and so lovely - that he loves at a distance, and accepts this; that he is alone in all of these - he is so alone in his head, except for that moment in the garden with young!Germany.
The way you wrote the scene with Japan-Prussia-Germany all in the same room was just so well done - now, barely two minutes later, what sticks in my mind is Japan's attention on Germany, that Prussia was this annoying background that he had to put up with.
This is beautiful.
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Reply
I almost de-anon'd due to how overwhelmed I feel right now, really.
Well. All I want to say is that was hot, your writing is gorgeous, I love how kinky your Kiku is and I just really love the overall atmosphere. The last bit with the Axis was especially jdkljs. ♥
In short, you have my love.
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Great job!
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i love you so much it's ont even funny
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