Fanfiction
My first fanfiction post EVER and my first post since May of last year -_-;
Constructive criticism is more than welcome and I hope you enjoy!
Fandom: Gundam Wing
Pairing/Characters: Heero Yuy, Duo Maxwell (sort of a 1x2/2x1 if you squint)
Wordcount: 921
Warnings: cigarette smoke, other than that...not much.
Summary: Just a quick little scene between Duo and Heero after Duo busts Heero out of the Alliance Hospital.
Notes: I got the idea for some of this from a scene in Saiyuki Reload between Sanzo and Priest Jikaku during the Burial Arc. I know this isn't a great piece of work, but I kind of like it and hopefully someone else does too.
EDIT: I should mention that the song snippet in here isn't mine either, it's by Flogging Molly and the song is called 'What's Left of the Flag.'
I woke up with a jerk with the smell of burnt flesh and char in my nose. It’s not often I dream about the Church but when I do, the things stay with me and I usually don’t sleep the rest of the night. I sat up and tossed my blanket aside, glancing out the porthole at the black sea and the silver-white spray that flew back from the ship’s wake. It was two days after I rescued that Japanese guy from the Alliance Hospital. I glanced over at the other bunk across from my own to find it empty. Big surprise there. The guy had hardly left the hold since we pulled up the Gundams from the ocean floor. I sighed and stood, shivering at the cold metal under my bare feet. I yawned and pulled on my boots. If I wasn’t gonna sleep I may as well see what my new friend was up to. (I use the term “friend” very loosely, just so ya’ know. So far he thinks I’m a pain in the ass. I think he’s kinda cute…)
I slip out of the room and head down to the hold. I don’t try to be quiet, wouldn’t wanna startle the trigger-happy soldier boy, especially at three in the morning. I wave to Jake at the helm and climb down into the belly of the ship where ‘Scythe and the white Gundam are settled. I sing to myself as I go just so the dark metal corridor isn’t so silent. I can’t stand silence. Silence makes me think of how quiet the streets got after the plague. That absolute silence that’s heavier than anything.
The hold was empty. I couldn’t see or hear any sign of the other guy and the white Gundam lay untouched next to Deathscythe,
I scratched my head and tried to think of where else the guy could have gone. Not to the cabin, I’d have seen him on my way down. The mess was closed. That left the deck or the wheelhouse. I don’t think Jake’s the kind of guy Mr. I-set-my-own-broken-bones would willingly hang around, too much like me. Only Jake’s singing is MUCH worse than mine. The guy’s absolutely tone-deaf.
I climbed back up to the deck and walked out to the bow of the ship. It’s my favorite spot, next to on top of the cargo racks. They’re two of the best views on the ship of the night sky. The wind and salt spray sting my face and I look up at the sky, spotting L2 and Orion on the horizon. The moon is in its last quarter.
“Walk away me boy, walk away me boy
And by mornin' we'll be free
Wipe that golden tear from your mother dear
And raise what's left of the flag for me”
I start singing again as I wander down towards the stern.
I smell the faintest trace of tobacco on the wind before I see him. Leaning on his elbows on the railing is the object of my search. He hasn’t given me a name yet, he probably won’t either, but ya’ know, what ever, right? Not my place to question it.
He looks good, though. Perpetually wild brown hair flying in the wind and these sea deep blue eyes focused on the trail of moonlight on the water. He’s still in those spandex shorts, tank top and the ugliest mustard yellow sneakers I had ever had the misfortune to see. What surprises me though? The lit cigarette between his lips.
“Hey,” I say, walking over to stand beside him. He doesn’t reply, just flicks a bit of ash from the end and exhales a plume of grey that vanishes into the breeze like a ghost.
“Howard catches you with that, he’ll flay you, ya’ know? Hasn’t had one in three months and tryin’ to keep it that way.”
He just grunts and shrugs, taking another drag.
“That and some of the cargo’s not what ya’d call fire proof. ‘Specially the fuel we’re transporting.”
He shrugs again.
I lean my elbows on the railing and glance at him from the corner of my eye. “Never took you for a smoker. Thought you’d be too tough to be addicted to anything. Though, I guess anyone in our line of work is entitled to their vices.”
“I’m not addicted.”
Woohoo! A response of more than one word. “You’re not, huh?” I snort skeptically. I seen plenty of people on L2 who’d swear up and down they weren’t addicted to anything with the needle still in their arms.
He shook his head and flicked the butt out into the water. “I don’t need them,” he said, turning so his back was against the railing and crossing his arms over his chest.
“So why do you smoke ‘em?”
He hesitates and I must be seeing things because there’s a self-conscious blush across his cheeks.
“It’s…karma, I guess.”
I blink at him. “Karma?”
He shrugs. “We go out and slaughter people and come back unscathed, the smoke is a form of penance, I guess. I’m paying for those lives in smoke that blackens my lungs.”
Huh. Soldier boy’s a poet in his spare time. Not a very good poet, mind you. But it’s clear enough, somehow, in it’s own ironic way.
“Guess that makes sense.” I straighten up turn away towards the bow again.
“Heero Yuy.”
“Huh?” I turn back, confused.
“My name.”
I grin at him. “Nice ta’ meet ya’, Yuy.”a/
Constructive criticism is more than welcome and I hope you enjoy!
Fandom: Gundam Wing
Pairing/Characters: Heero Yuy, Duo Maxwell (sort of a 1x2/2x1 if you squint)
Wordcount: 921
Warnings: cigarette smoke, other than that...not much.
Summary: Just a quick little scene between Duo and Heero after Duo busts Heero out of the Alliance Hospital.
Notes: I got the idea for some of this from a scene in Saiyuki Reload between Sanzo and Priest Jikaku during the Burial Arc. I know this isn't a great piece of work, but I kind of like it and hopefully someone else does too.
EDIT: I should mention that the song snippet in here isn't mine either, it's by Flogging Molly and the song is called 'What's Left of the Flag.'
I woke up with a jerk with the smell of burnt flesh and char in my nose. It’s not often I dream about the Church but when I do, the things stay with me and I usually don’t sleep the rest of the night. I sat up and tossed my blanket aside, glancing out the porthole at the black sea and the silver-white spray that flew back from the ship’s wake. It was two days after I rescued that Japanese guy from the Alliance Hospital. I glanced over at the other bunk across from my own to find it empty. Big surprise there. The guy had hardly left the hold since we pulled up the Gundams from the ocean floor. I sighed and stood, shivering at the cold metal under my bare feet. I yawned and pulled on my boots. If I wasn’t gonna sleep I may as well see what my new friend was up to. (I use the term “friend” very loosely, just so ya’ know. So far he thinks I’m a pain in the ass. I think he’s kinda cute…)
I slip out of the room and head down to the hold. I don’t try to be quiet, wouldn’t wanna startle the trigger-happy soldier boy, especially at three in the morning. I wave to Jake at the helm and climb down into the belly of the ship where ‘Scythe and the white Gundam are settled. I sing to myself as I go just so the dark metal corridor isn’t so silent. I can’t stand silence. Silence makes me think of how quiet the streets got after the plague. That absolute silence that’s heavier than anything.
The hold was empty. I couldn’t see or hear any sign of the other guy and the white Gundam lay untouched next to Deathscythe,
I scratched my head and tried to think of where else the guy could have gone. Not to the cabin, I’d have seen him on my way down. The mess was closed. That left the deck or the wheelhouse. I don’t think Jake’s the kind of guy Mr. I-set-my-own-broken-bones would willingly hang around, too much like me. Only Jake’s singing is MUCH worse than mine. The guy’s absolutely tone-deaf.
I climbed back up to the deck and walked out to the bow of the ship. It’s my favorite spot, next to on top of the cargo racks. They’re two of the best views on the ship of the night sky. The wind and salt spray sting my face and I look up at the sky, spotting L2 and Orion on the horizon. The moon is in its last quarter.
“Walk away me boy, walk away me boy
And by mornin' we'll be free
Wipe that golden tear from your mother dear
And raise what's left of the flag for me”
I start singing again as I wander down towards the stern.
I smell the faintest trace of tobacco on the wind before I see him. Leaning on his elbows on the railing is the object of my search. He hasn’t given me a name yet, he probably won’t either, but ya’ know, what ever, right? Not my place to question it.
He looks good, though. Perpetually wild brown hair flying in the wind and these sea deep blue eyes focused on the trail of moonlight on the water. He’s still in those spandex shorts, tank top and the ugliest mustard yellow sneakers I had ever had the misfortune to see. What surprises me though? The lit cigarette between his lips.
“Hey,” I say, walking over to stand beside him. He doesn’t reply, just flicks a bit of ash from the end and exhales a plume of grey that vanishes into the breeze like a ghost.
“Howard catches you with that, he’ll flay you, ya’ know? Hasn’t had one in three months and tryin’ to keep it that way.”
He just grunts and shrugs, taking another drag.
“That and some of the cargo’s not what ya’d call fire proof. ‘Specially the fuel we’re transporting.”
He shrugs again.
I lean my elbows on the railing and glance at him from the corner of my eye. “Never took you for a smoker. Thought you’d be too tough to be addicted to anything. Though, I guess anyone in our line of work is entitled to their vices.”
“I’m not addicted.”
Woohoo! A response of more than one word. “You’re not, huh?” I snort skeptically. I seen plenty of people on L2 who’d swear up and down they weren’t addicted to anything with the needle still in their arms.
He shook his head and flicked the butt out into the water. “I don’t need them,” he said, turning so his back was against the railing and crossing his arms over his chest.
“So why do you smoke ‘em?”
He hesitates and I must be seeing things because there’s a self-conscious blush across his cheeks.
“It’s…karma, I guess.”
I blink at him. “Karma?”
He shrugs. “We go out and slaughter people and come back unscathed, the smoke is a form of penance, I guess. I’m paying for those lives in smoke that blackens my lungs.”
Huh. Soldier boy’s a poet in his spare time. Not a very good poet, mind you. But it’s clear enough, somehow, in it’s own ironic way.
“Guess that makes sense.” I straighten up turn away towards the bow again.
“Heero Yuy.”
“Huh?” I turn back, confused.
“My name.”
I grin at him. “Nice ta’ meet ya’, Yuy.”a/