MITH'S FAULT. Ends of the World (DDS/Utena, Akio, Heat)
Mith's fault. And the tournament's fault, but mostly Mith's.
Ends of the World. DDS/Utena crossover thing, Heat and Akio. R for suggestive images and language. 400 words.
What Heat finds at the Ends of the World.
Yeah.
Still makes sense if you only know DDS, I think.
There’s something about the car that reminds him of Agni: the way it’s colored bright-red, flame-red, the way he feels it rumble when he sets his hand on the hood, hears it growl under his palm. The man tells him it runs on fire, fire makes it go forward, and Heat says “Yeah” and curls his fingers around the exhaust pipe. It’s always hungry, the car, sucking down gas
and everything that goes into making it, life rotted and reduced to viscous black and then to something even simpler when the flames lick it clean, nothing at all but light left
and leaving only smoke behind.
“Have you ever wondered what waits at the Ends of the World?” the man asks him. He stretches out over the hood like a
cat, the one Cielo’s always looking after, midnight fur and glittering eyes
and lets his arms drape over the side, strokes the side of the car slowly with just the tips of his fingers. His smile could eat the world whole. Heat gets that, though; that’s one thing he gets, the hunger.
Nothing, nothing’s at the Ends of the World, that’s why it’s the end, you idiot, he thinks. Then he thinks Nirvana, whatever the fuck that means. What he actually says is “I don’t give a shit about that.”
“Are you sure?” The man loosens his tie and slides it off his neck, flicks his wrist and flings it across Heat’s eyes and
Sera, her eyes, her mouth, her hair, her hands, her neck, her breasts, her cunt, he knows what they all mean and he can name them, every last one, and she arches under him and in a high breathless voice she helps him name everything, pulls the whole world down into herself and it’s waiting for him, it’s in her, it’s in Sera, Sera…
Heat’s hand is around the man’s throat, and the man isn’t saying anything but Heat still hears him laughing, laughing. “What the hell did you do to me?”
“The better question to ask,” the man says, “is what she did to you.” He flips over the windshield and into the driver’s seat as the engine purrs and hums to life.
Heat wrenches the passenger door open and climbs in. “Where are we going?”
There it is again, the smile. His teeth flash brilliant white. “Oh,” he says, “I think you know that.”
Ends of the World. DDS/Utena crossover thing, Heat and Akio. R for suggestive images and language. 400 words.
What Heat finds at the Ends of the World.
Yeah.
Still makes sense if you only know DDS, I think.
There’s something about the car that reminds him of Agni: the way it’s colored bright-red, flame-red, the way he feels it rumble when he sets his hand on the hood, hears it growl under his palm. The man tells him it runs on fire, fire makes it go forward, and Heat says “Yeah” and curls his fingers around the exhaust pipe. It’s always hungry, the car, sucking down gas
and everything that goes into making it, life rotted and reduced to viscous black and then to something even simpler when the flames lick it clean, nothing at all but light left
and leaving only smoke behind.
“Have you ever wondered what waits at the Ends of the World?” the man asks him. He stretches out over the hood like a
cat, the one Cielo’s always looking after, midnight fur and glittering eyes
and lets his arms drape over the side, strokes the side of the car slowly with just the tips of his fingers. His smile could eat the world whole. Heat gets that, though; that’s one thing he gets, the hunger.
Nothing, nothing’s at the Ends of the World, that’s why it’s the end, you idiot, he thinks. Then he thinks Nirvana, whatever the fuck that means. What he actually says is “I don’t give a shit about that.”
“Are you sure?” The man loosens his tie and slides it off his neck, flicks his wrist and flings it across Heat’s eyes and
Sera, her eyes, her mouth, her hair, her hands, her neck, her breasts, her cunt, he knows what they all mean and he can name them, every last one, and she arches under him and in a high breathless voice she helps him name everything, pulls the whole world down into herself and it’s waiting for him, it’s in her, it’s in Sera, Sera…
Heat’s hand is around the man’s throat, and the man isn’t saying anything but Heat still hears him laughing, laughing. “What the hell did you do to me?”
“The better question to ask,” the man says, “is what she did to you.” He flips over the windshield and into the driver’s seat as the engine purrs and hums to life.
Heat wrenches the passenger door open and climbs in. “Where are we going?”
There it is again, the smile. His teeth flash brilliant white. “Oh,” he says, “I think you know that.”