Five Bullets, a Without Wings fanfic
Title: Five Bullets
Author: k_writerly
Artist: yappichick
Rating: T
Fandom: Without Wings (an original novel by K. Writerly)
Pairings/Characters: Chez (a.k.a. Charles "Chez" Zimmerman) and O (a.k.a. Owen)
Genre: Gen (with a sprinkling of bromance if you stand on your head and squint)
Warnings: swearing, violence, and gore
Notes: I'm thinking that if you like the TV series Supernatural, then you might like this story.
Fic Prompt: Chez and Owen meet for the first time in Without Wings... or do they? What if Owen had met one of Chez's previous incarnations?
Summary: In the Jungles of 1966 Vietnam, a stranger becomes the only ally Chez can count on.
Excerpt:
I’m still alive.
Well.
I’m not quite sure what to make of that.
I blink at O, who is apparently beating out small, smoldering fires from my vest and pant legs as I lie sprawled in the mud, blood, and muck on the tunnel floor.
“That,” O tells me as I move to sit up, “was neat.”
I cough once on my shock. “Neat?” I parrot back.
He winks. “Next stop, steamy jungle and unending rain. You coming?”
He doesn’t have to ask me twice. I’m running out of bullets and I’m all out of toys that go boom! Ears still ringing and skin feeling slightly crispy, I fumble after him.
Read Five Bullets
Author: k_writerly
Artist: yappichick
Rating: T
Fandom: Without Wings (an original novel by K. Writerly)
Pairings/Characters: Chez (a.k.a. Charles "Chez" Zimmerman) and O (a.k.a. Owen)
Genre: Gen (with a sprinkling of bromance if you stand on your head and squint)
Warnings: swearing, violence, and gore
Notes: I'm thinking that if you like the TV series Supernatural, then you might like this story.
Fic Prompt: Chez and Owen meet for the first time in Without Wings... or do they? What if Owen had met one of Chez's previous incarnations?
Summary: In the Jungles of 1966 Vietnam, a stranger becomes the only ally Chez can count on.
Excerpt:
I’m still alive.
Well.
I’m not quite sure what to make of that.
I blink at O, who is apparently beating out small, smoldering fires from my vest and pant legs as I lie sprawled in the mud, blood, and muck on the tunnel floor.
“That,” O tells me as I move to sit up, “was neat.”
I cough once on my shock. “Neat?” I parrot back.
He winks. “Next stop, steamy jungle and unending rain. You coming?”
He doesn’t have to ask me twice. I’m running out of bullets and I’m all out of toys that go boom! Ears still ringing and skin feeling slightly crispy, I fumble after him.
Read Five Bullets