Will you take me by the hand

DOGS: DOG mirrored

Sun, 20 Apr 2008 21:48:44 GMT

(Hoshits, an update! Also, I decided Heine sounds better and more Rammsteiner as "Heine" instead of "Haine".)

Title: DOG mirrored
Author: sederhana
Written: 2008
Fandom: DOGS (Bullets and Carnage)
Characters: Badou & Heine
Rating: It's DOGS, whet do you expect?
Notes: Don't own, don't sue.

With a gun in hand, Heine holds the world in his palms, controls life, is a goddamn fucking god if you ever saw one. The blam and boom and shouts make for the only music he needs, the bullets hitting the floor are the beat for his walk. When he raises his arms to blast away into whichever direction the guns might be pointing, the grin on his face is bordering madness.

And the symphony builds up with the sound of bodies hitting the floor at an increasing speed, then fading out slightly just before the grande finale.

Badou's back hits his and they both fire one last round just for the hell and entertainment of it before letting the silence fall and smoke settle.

Heine takes a quick deep breath, puts away his weapons, watches Badou light a smoke and heads back home. His place. Flat. Whatever.

But Badou wants a drink and it's Heine's duty to drink the redhead under the table so home (place, flat, whatever) will have to wait. At least until the fifth bottle of whatever is the cheapest and strongest is done with.

(And later they pass out on Heine's floor in a heap of trigger happy bastards and Badou drools in his sleep and mutters something about shovels and squirrels. Heine makes a mental note of reminding him about it the next morning, just to make Badou's headache slightly worse.)

DOGS: Things (Badou & Heine)

Mon, 14 Jan 2008 18:36:28 GMT

Title: Things
Author: sederhana
Written: 2008
Fandom: DOGS (Bullets and Carnage)
Characters: Badou & Heine
Rating: PG (PG13 for language?)
Notes: Don't own, don't sue. First time poking at the fandom, here's hoping I'll write more someday.

and everything is gunpowder, splinters, bullets and blood; running, hiding, aiming, dodging. Hit and bruise and bleed and heal. A heartbeat you can hear drumming in your ears, chest, feet, eye(s). Things. Plenty of things. Small things that make bigger things when put together; bigger things that end up being so big it hurts to think about it, let alone understand.

And then you’re out of ammo, everyone who needs to be dead is and the bigger things shatter into those smaller things you don’t even notice; and lighter flicks and everything is like it was before, except for a few people and that crow that thought it best to take the easy way out and fly through a shower of bullets.

Then rain. First one in a while but just as toxic as before. The smoke settles, smells fade. Just the presence of someone familiar somewhere close, soothing, but fuck if you’ll ever say it out loud.

He says something smart and you reply with sarcasm, say fuck and shit. You laugh and he laughs, and then you grin and drop your cigarette on the ground.

Like it was before.

Weiss kreuz: Perfect strangers (Aya/Yoji)

Mon, 14 Jan 2008 16:57:03 GMT

Title: Perfect strangers
Author: sederhana
Written: Late 2004
Fandom: Weiss kreuz
Pairing: Aya/Yoji
Rating: PG
Notes: Don't own, don't sue. Post-Glühen, perhaps during Side B. Spoilers. Surprisingly enough.

They had told him to take a break; said he was of no use when he was constantly absent-minded and deep in thought like he had been for quite a while now. He couldn’t help it, really. Ran had been sure he could have gone on with his life after all the chaos and hurt had been buried in the past, but it seemed to him that certain things refused to be forgotten. Certain people.

He didn’t know how sick the bastards back in England were but they had insisted that he’d go back to Japan and sort out his thoughts there. There had been much arguing and complaining about the matter; Ran firmly believed in “out of sight – out of mind” and going back to Japan was not an option for him. In the end he had just about been dragged to the airport with his luggage, flight-tickets and a key to an apartment he was supposed to stay in.

He hadn’t thought about the address more than once, it seemed. He stood just outside the building of his residence and stared at the neighborhood in disbelief. It had all been arranged just to make him feel uneasy, he was quite sure of it. But then again, being mad had made him forget for a while, so perhaps that was exactly what they had been aiming for.

He sighed in defeat and climbed up to his apartment. It was on the third floor and pretty plain but all the necessities were there; he wouldn’t get too comfortable nor would the place feel too homelike. There was a small bedroom, a kitchen-living room combination and something that perhaps had been a rather nice bathroom long ago but had now began growing moldy. Ran made a mental note to clean the disgusting little compartment as soon as he had unpacked his belongings.

The kitchen was facing the street below and the one building he wasn’t keen on seeing. Koneko no Sumu Ie looked rather abandoned with its shutters down, standing silently in the chilly night air. He had paid attention to a little note attached to one of the windows: the flower shop was temporarily closed for a holiday trip. The thought of Aya-chan having fun somewhere nice had made Ran smile. It was all he had wanted for her; he had wished for her happiness. It was good knowing she was doing fine and was happy with her life.

Aya was not the only one Ran had though about in the past few years. There was a certain amnesiac blonde who had a habit of conquering Ran’s thoughts, day and night. It hadn’t been like that before he had learned that Yoji was alive and couldn’t remember a thing. The knowledge was painful. Yoji was alive but Ran couldn’t see him. He had a new life now, a little family. A wife and a respectful career.

Ran searched the cabinets for a tea kettle and once found, he inspected it for possible rust and mould damages. He detected none, filled the kettle with water and set it on the stove to warm up. Tea always had a soothing effect on him. It was something he could drink without having to think about it too much. Tea was somehow very still and it transferred that stillness to Ran every time he had a sip.

Waiting for the water to heat up Ran sat down on a chair close to the window. There was no dining table in the apartment, he noticed, only chairs. He wondered who might have lived in the apartment earlier; it was odd he hadn’t known how truly shitty the housing near Koneko was. True, the apartments the four had lived in back in the days of Weiss hadn’t been luxurious either, but he didn’t remember them being this poor. Maybe there just had been – or still was – an uninterested landlord in the building. That would explain a lot.

The kettle let out a whistling sound and Ran jumped up from his seat. He burned his hand in the process of picking the kettle up and swore under his breath as the water spilled on the kitchen-counter. He let his hand cool down under running, cold water and at the same time picked up a tea-cup and filled it holding the kettle with his unhurt hand. When both of his hands seemed to be back in action again he began a search for tea. He spat out a couple of poisonous words as he came to the conclusion that the apartment had a tea kettle and running water but apparently no tea.

Ran sighed and let the kettle be; he’d empty it once the water was cool enough not to scald. It was obvious that things weren’t going his way today and he didn’t want to push his luck.

He took a quick look out to the street and decided it was a fine weather to go and take a little walk. His wish was to be able to settle his thoughts in the fresh outdoor-air without an apartment trying to make his life living hell. There also was a part of him that was anxious to see if anything had changed since he had last been to Japan.

He got his coat and keys and strode out of the door. Once he got down to the ground level and out of the main entrance, a cool wind greeted him. Autumn, he reminded himself and buttoned his jacket. The weather wasn’t that cold but obviously the wind brought its own freezing addition to it.

Out of an old habit, or perhaps because that one part of him took over, he crossed the street to get a closer look on Koneko. Since the shutters were down there wasn’t much to look at, but the shop – even if closed - brought back a great deal of memories.

A sad smile crept to his face. Those were the days, he thought dryly. He would have been caught dead rather than admitting he had actually enjoyed working in the shop with three people out of whom one actually worked and a mob of schoolgirls who continuously tried to suffocate the four with their overpowering, girly enthusiasm. He nearly screamed “Buy something or get out!” plainly because of the vivid memory, but managed to control himself.

The wind picked up again and sent shivers down his spine. He closed his eyes for a moment and turned away; he hadn’t come to stand in front of a closed flower shop. His purpose was not to dwell in the past either, but that was what he had been doing for the past months.

He shrugged and headed on. The wind was strong now and he had to keep his face down. He hadn’t gotten too far from the shop when he walked into someone. Ran uttered a mumbled “Sorry” and received something similar in reply. He took a few more steps and then stopped. There was something not right.

Or perhaps everything was exactly the way it was supposed to be.

Ran turned around to see that the man he’d bumped into had stopped in front of Koneko, just as he had, and was looking at it with thousands of questions obviously filling his mind. It was as if the shop brought back just as many memories to the man as it had to Ran. It was a pity the man didn’t know what he remembered.

Yoji had let his hair grow out a little. It wasn’t the same short-cropped mess Ran had seen the last time he had seen the blonde but it wasn’t nearly as long as it used to be for a long time ago, either.

Ran turned away again. He wouldn’t bother the man; the blonde had told him not to. He would just walk away and pretend he never saw anything. He could think all this had been a jet-lagged dream or delusion. He would leave the man with his life and go on with his. He would-

“Ran?”

He couldn’t. Ran stood still and closed his eyes for a moment. He could still walk away; he could pretend he hadn’t heard what the blonde had said. He turned around and slowly opened his eyes. He nodded silently. This was Yoji’s idea and that - if something - was a great excuse if things turned ugly.

The blond opened his mouth to say something but obviously the words died on his lips. Ran was just as uneasy. What could he say? What could either one of them say?

“Why does this place…” Yoji swallowed the rest of his question and turned away. “I know there’s something.”

Ran would have preferred to be somewhere else. Anywhere. Just not here. Memories he had tried to forget crept over him, reminding who this man standing right in front of him was. There were so many things he had wanted to say to Yoji; so many apologies.

“You worked here,” Ran finally muttered. He hoped Yoji wouldn’t ask anything else. Hoped he could turn around and leave. Hoped this wouldn’t make him feel so much anymore.

The silence was tormenting. The two of them stood in the chilly Tokyo night, unable to move, outside a place that reminded them both of something. And they stood there silently. Not a single thought passed between them; it wasn’t the same it had used to be. They were two complete strangers.

“Who are you, Ran?” The blonde had slowly turned to face him and there was something so painful in his eyes that Ran felt a stabbing pain in his own chest. Memories were all too hurtful, he was sure of it now; they made people ache inside.

“I’m someone you used to know,” Ran answered vaguely. Forgetting would be for the best for both of them.

The two were still the same. Neither one of them could forget; they both knew they couldn’t. There was too much to push aside.

“Why do I know you’re Aya, too?” the blonde asked. The question was something Ran didn’t know if he could answer. The answer would lead to more questions and soon Ran wouldn’t be able to talk anymore. It was for the best if Yoji knew nothing of his bloodied past.

“It was you who started calling me that.”

He remembered how he had left Yoji’s bed for the first time. The only time he had just slept in it. “Should I call you Aya, then?” the blonde had asked, sitting on his bed in his usual relaxed manner. His hair had been tied back. He had looked so young; much younger than he did now.

Ran remembered the few following times he had left Yoji’s bed and then all the rest of the times he had stayed.

Yoji looked into Ran’s eyes, still with the puzzled look on his face. Ran knew what he was about to ask. And he didn’t want to answer.

“What are you doing here?” Ran asked, stopping Yoji from making him do and say things he didn’t want to do nor say.

Yoji simply shrugged. It had probably been the same thing that had drawn him to the flower shop that had done it to Ran.

“I feel like there’s someone,” Yoji said turning away again. He wasn’t expecting a reply and Ran remained silent.

“I’m sorry,” the blonde said, barely audibly, and took a step away from the shop and Ran. He was leaving. Just as Ran had hoped he would.

But Ran had just recently learned not to hope.

“Yoji,” he called out, “Wait.”

Meine Liebe: Untitled (Orphe/Lui)

Mon, 14 Jan 2008 16:26:08 GMT

Title: Untitled
Author: sederhana
Written: February 2005
Fandom: Meine Liebe
Pairing: Orpherus/Ludwig
Rating: PG
Notes: Don't own, don't sue. An old drabble to get this journal started.

Their blades clashed, sharp edges cutting close to fabric and skin. Ludwig’s moves were aggressive, his sword fast, and Orpherus found himself truly working hard to avoid the man’s attacks. He returned each one of them with perfect accuracy, yet he felt he was lacking the confidence Ludwig had.

One lapse in concentration and the edge of Ludwig’s sword tickled Orpherus’ neck; just a scratch on his skin but a wound much worse for his self-esteem. He gathered his thoughts and pushed them aside, charging towards Ludwig. Few skilled moves later they both found themselves standing still, the other’s sword dangerously close to their own throats. Both of them breathing hard, chests heaving.

“I won’t settle for a draw,” Ludwig announced gradually. His gaze was apparently fixed on his opponent’s face, but in fact he followed every single twitch of Orpehrus’ body, expecting him to attack again.

“Neither will I,” was the other man’s reply.

A metallic clash rang again and the two returned to their duel. There was no reason for it but pride and maintaining it. It was how the two of them settled their disagreements when words failed to have effect.

Orpherus’ balance broke by the final strike of Ludwig’s blade, and he stumbled backwards on the grass, finally falling to the ground. The other cast him a smug smile, looking down on him. “You shouldn’t even try,” Ludwig’s gaze said. “I’ll always beat you in the end.”

Not this time, you won’t, Orpherus decided. Swiftly he pushed himself off the ground, grabbed Ludwig by the neck and pressed his lips against his, forcing his tongue into his mouth. Orpherus wound his gloved fingers into Ludwig’s hair, urging him to take up the challenge. When the other was about to respond, Orpherus drew back, picked up his sword and headed back towards the Academy.

Tonight’s duel was his.