FIC: My first go at DOGS
Easing myself into a new fandom. Have a collection of 1-3 sentence responses to prompts from this little beauty. Writers, check that shit out! Great variety.
Fandom: DOGS/DOGS: Bullets and Carnage
Ratings: PG-13 to R for Naughty Language and Yucky Gore and the odd Adult Situation. What does that shit even mean?
Pairings: Some gen, some Haine/Badou undertones, some Haine/Nil undertones. WE GOT SUBTEXT ALL UP IN HERE.
Genre: THE LOT!
Disclaimer: So very not mine it's painful to describe.
Feedback: Would be much appreciated, considering this is my first foray into anything outside LOLWIZZURDS.
Surprise
When Haine gets shot [three times in the back and twice in the arm], it doesn’t really register to either of them. When Badou gets shot [just once, in the shoulder, so very close to his heart], somehow neither of them were expecting that bloom of deep, dark crimson.
Health
They had been drinking all last night, cheap Jesus-wine filched from the Bishop. This morning, Haine laughs and drawls, “Do you want me to hold your hair back?” Badou just swears.
Boat
He’s been gone for a week and a half, but Badou isn’t worried. He always drifts back to him. The redhead isn’t sure how or when he became a harbour.
Hobby
Tonight, they’re watching Blow. Actually, Badou is watching Blow; Haine, who thinks Johnny Depp is an asshole, is watching Badou.
Confession
“I had a sex dream about you last night,” says Haine, in that detached, abstract way of his. “Oh,” says Badou, really wishing they hadn’t decided to go eat lunch at Buon Viaggio, with Mihai and Kiri.
Leader
“What would you change first, if you ruled the world?” his partner asks, expelling smoke up into the air. Haine thinks about it for a few moments, then responds, “Who would want the world?”
Promises
After Badou shoots the albino twice in the foot, Haine begins to get really annoyed. “You fucking asshole, I said I was fucking sorry! Just catch the fucking re-run! Jesus!”
Faith
The bishop, Haine is pretty sure, doesn’t have an ounce of belief; Naoto, too, doesn’t live on the hope of anything. He knows he hasn’t got any either. Why does that ginger asshole have so much faith in him, of all things?
Update
“They’re all okay. Scared, but okay,” rasps Badou, voice rough from the gun smoke. Haine is never the one who goes and talks to them. He can’t bear the resemblance.
Streams
Hair flying out behind him, sharp red-orange cutting through the dull, dirty grey of the City, laughing like hell and all it’s demons, Badou is an exercise in [a lack of] self-control.
Beard
He’s laughing so hard into the arm of his coat he thinks he might fracture something. “Shhh,” says Haine, expertly flicking another pea into the grey, scraggly hair of a sleeping Mihai’s beard.
Rectified
Later, Badou knows, he’ll pay dearly for it. For now, though, he sits on the edge of the bath tub and watches his partner brush with a toothbrush that has just previously met some very interesting places.
Flood
“Fuck,” laughs the redhead, with a desperate edge, shaking. Haine moves silently through the deluge of sticky, dark red liquid, and gives Badou a smoke. He’s not sure who’s taking advantage of who anymore.
Obsess
Haine is at first so shocked that Badou slapped him, slapped him across the face, he just stares blankly. “Whoever you think she is,” snarls his partner, jerking a thumb over his shoulder at Nil, quietly stitching a few pews back, “she isn’t.”
Service
When he sees Eyepatch and White Hair, he knows it’s all over. Funnily enough, he can’t help but laugh; they’re grinning, scythe-sharp, smirks leaving death in their wake. ‘At least it’s service with a smile’ is the last thing he thinks.
Minimum
Some days, they barely talk. Some odd grunts and fragments, disjointed and few in between, like the furniture in Badou’s cheap-ass flat. And that’s okay.
Dinner
He covers the mouthpiece of the phone, turning his head. Haine means to say “Do you want white rice or fried rice?” but it comes out “Would you let me fuck you?” Badou drops his cigarette.
Daring
None of them, especially him, thinks Badou, is particularly brave. He privately thinks Nil, just by daring to live, is the most courageous of them all.
Disagreeing
“No.”
“Yes.”
“No.”
“Yes.”
“No.”
“Cyclops.”
“Bolt-neck.”
Unimportant
He’s twenty-eight minutes late to the church, but Haine doesn’t get up and call him an idiot; he doesn’t come over and hit him over the head, or just glare coldly. He doesn’t even notice, busy talking softly to Nil up by the altar. Feeling a rising wave of panic, Badou turns and walks right back out.
Dance
The record-player sounds holy in the church where nothing really is. It doesn’t make much sense, honestly. Neither of them can dance, but they watch Nil sway happily while she’s cleaning, and it’s good enough.
Gateway
Badou has trouble making Haine fit into reality sometimes. All white hair and malevolent red eyes and justification, he hardly seems like a person. No. He’s a gateway to another world.
Fog
Back in his cloud of poison, Badou begins to return to himself. They’re walking back to the church when the redhead exclaims in disgust, taking his hands out of his pockets, noticing a curious excess. “Aw, fuck, gross, who’s hand is this?”
Memory
They’re drinking coffee, sitting on the kerb. “Do you remember when we met?” he asks suddenly. Badou laughs, cigarette hanging precariously off his thin bottom lip. “Shit, no.” Haine can’t recall a time when he didn’t have a carton of smokes in his pocket, just in case.
Size
“Mine’s bigger.”
“So?”
“Just sayin’.”
After a moment of silence, Badou goes on to clarify. “And my cock is, too.”
International
One day, they’ll probably be famous across the world, above and below. Or, infamous. Y’know, whatever.
Staring
He can see it now. He only notices it sometimes, when he’s not really paying attention, staring out of Haine’s eyes. The Black Dog, he thinks resolutely, skin crawling, needs to be put down.
Joint
Somewhere along the line, they had ended up with a small plastic bag of pot. Haine considers it. “You want to?” he asks. The redhead lights up another smoke. “Are you kidding? That shit’s bad for your health.”
Translation
Haine mumbles something out of the corner of his mouth, edging away. “That means he’s pleased to meet you, miss,” translates Badou.
Suitability
It’s not that he doesn’t like girls. He does like them, quite a lot actually, when he’s bored and alone on his lumpy mattress and wants to get off. It’s just they don’t really suit him, not as well as… it’s not that he doesn’t like girls.
Excluded
Whatever he’d been expecting, it hadn’t been this. Haine had thought it would’ve been funny, giving his partner a carton of un-smokeable smokes. But Badou had just stared at the chocolate cigarettes, and spent the rest of the day on the misshapen couch, in silence.
Ally
In such an uncertain world, Badou knows he can depend on this, on them. Mostly. Definitely some of the time, anyway.
Fandom: DOGS/DOGS: Bullets and Carnage
Ratings: PG-13 to R for Naughty Language and Yucky Gore and the odd Adult Situation. What does that shit even mean?
Pairings: Some gen, some Haine/Badou undertones, some Haine/Nil undertones. WE GOT SUBTEXT ALL UP IN HERE.
Genre: THE LOT!
Disclaimer: So very not mine it's painful to describe.
Feedback: Would be much appreciated, considering this is my first foray into anything outside LOLWIZZURDS.
Surprise
When Haine gets shot [three times in the back and twice in the arm], it doesn’t really register to either of them. When Badou gets shot [just once, in the shoulder, so very close to his heart], somehow neither of them were expecting that bloom of deep, dark crimson.
Health
They had been drinking all last night, cheap Jesus-wine filched from the Bishop. This morning, Haine laughs and drawls, “Do you want me to hold your hair back?” Badou just swears.
Boat
He’s been gone for a week and a half, but Badou isn’t worried. He always drifts back to him. The redhead isn’t sure how or when he became a harbour.
Hobby
Tonight, they’re watching Blow. Actually, Badou is watching Blow; Haine, who thinks Johnny Depp is an asshole, is watching Badou.
Confession
“I had a sex dream about you last night,” says Haine, in that detached, abstract way of his. “Oh,” says Badou, really wishing they hadn’t decided to go eat lunch at Buon Viaggio, with Mihai and Kiri.
Leader
“What would you change first, if you ruled the world?” his partner asks, expelling smoke up into the air. Haine thinks about it for a few moments, then responds, “Who would want the world?”
Promises
After Badou shoots the albino twice in the foot, Haine begins to get really annoyed. “You fucking asshole, I said I was fucking sorry! Just catch the fucking re-run! Jesus!”
Faith
The bishop, Haine is pretty sure, doesn’t have an ounce of belief; Naoto, too, doesn’t live on the hope of anything. He knows he hasn’t got any either. Why does that ginger asshole have so much faith in him, of all things?
Update
“They’re all okay. Scared, but okay,” rasps Badou, voice rough from the gun smoke. Haine is never the one who goes and talks to them. He can’t bear the resemblance.
Streams
Hair flying out behind him, sharp red-orange cutting through the dull, dirty grey of the City, laughing like hell and all it’s demons, Badou is an exercise in [a lack of] self-control.
Beard
He’s laughing so hard into the arm of his coat he thinks he might fracture something. “Shhh,” says Haine, expertly flicking another pea into the grey, scraggly hair of a sleeping Mihai’s beard.
Rectified
Later, Badou knows, he’ll pay dearly for it. For now, though, he sits on the edge of the bath tub and watches his partner brush with a toothbrush that has just previously met some very interesting places.
Flood
“Fuck,” laughs the redhead, with a desperate edge, shaking. Haine moves silently through the deluge of sticky, dark red liquid, and gives Badou a smoke. He’s not sure who’s taking advantage of who anymore.
Obsess
Haine is at first so shocked that Badou slapped him, slapped him across the face, he just stares blankly. “Whoever you think she is,” snarls his partner, jerking a thumb over his shoulder at Nil, quietly stitching a few pews back, “she isn’t.”
Service
When he sees Eyepatch and White Hair, he knows it’s all over. Funnily enough, he can’t help but laugh; they’re grinning, scythe-sharp, smirks leaving death in their wake. ‘At least it’s service with a smile’ is the last thing he thinks.
Minimum
Some days, they barely talk. Some odd grunts and fragments, disjointed and few in between, like the furniture in Badou’s cheap-ass flat. And that’s okay.
Dinner
He covers the mouthpiece of the phone, turning his head. Haine means to say “Do you want white rice or fried rice?” but it comes out “Would you let me fuck you?” Badou drops his cigarette.
Daring
None of them, especially him, thinks Badou, is particularly brave. He privately thinks Nil, just by daring to live, is the most courageous of them all.
Disagreeing
“No.”
“Yes.”
“No.”
“Yes.”
“No.”
“Cyclops.”
“Bolt-neck.”
Unimportant
He’s twenty-eight minutes late to the church, but Haine doesn’t get up and call him an idiot; he doesn’t come over and hit him over the head, or just glare coldly. He doesn’t even notice, busy talking softly to Nil up by the altar. Feeling a rising wave of panic, Badou turns and walks right back out.
Dance
The record-player sounds holy in the church where nothing really is. It doesn’t make much sense, honestly. Neither of them can dance, but they watch Nil sway happily while she’s cleaning, and it’s good enough.
Gateway
Badou has trouble making Haine fit into reality sometimes. All white hair and malevolent red eyes and justification, he hardly seems like a person. No. He’s a gateway to another world.
Fog
Back in his cloud of poison, Badou begins to return to himself. They’re walking back to the church when the redhead exclaims in disgust, taking his hands out of his pockets, noticing a curious excess. “Aw, fuck, gross, who’s hand is this?”
Memory
They’re drinking coffee, sitting on the kerb. “Do you remember when we met?” he asks suddenly. Badou laughs, cigarette hanging precariously off his thin bottom lip. “Shit, no.” Haine can’t recall a time when he didn’t have a carton of smokes in his pocket, just in case.
Size
“Mine’s bigger.”
“So?”
“Just sayin’.”
After a moment of silence, Badou goes on to clarify. “And my cock is, too.”
International
One day, they’ll probably be famous across the world, above and below. Or, infamous. Y’know, whatever.
Staring
He can see it now. He only notices it sometimes, when he’s not really paying attention, staring out of Haine’s eyes. The Black Dog, he thinks resolutely, skin crawling, needs to be put down.
Joint
Somewhere along the line, they had ended up with a small plastic bag of pot. Haine considers it. “You want to?” he asks. The redhead lights up another smoke. “Are you kidding? That shit’s bad for your health.”
Translation
Haine mumbles something out of the corner of his mouth, edging away. “That means he’s pleased to meet you, miss,” translates Badou.
Suitability
It’s not that he doesn’t like girls. He does like them, quite a lot actually, when he’s bored and alone on his lumpy mattress and wants to get off. It’s just they don’t really suit him, not as well as… it’s not that he doesn’t like girls.
Excluded
Whatever he’d been expecting, it hadn’t been this. Haine had thought it would’ve been funny, giving his partner a carton of un-smokeable smokes. But Badou had just stared at the chocolate cigarettes, and spent the rest of the day on the misshapen couch, in silence.
Ally
In such an uncertain world, Badou knows he can depend on this, on them. Mostly. Definitely some of the time, anyway.