#trigun snippets

[dozenssporks]

Vash would somehow end up being chased through the Olympics shooting range and after one of his usual chaotic gunfights with his pursuers he skedaddles only for it to be discovered that he accidentally hit every target dead-center. The competitors are completely demoralized.

Also: at some point he probably ends up running with the Olympic torch and no one, least of all him, knows how that happened

[hypermoyashi]

This is the preview for my collab project for the @trigunreversebang! My artist partner was @hotpooki!! Please go check out their wonderful art preview!!

Really looking forward to everyone getting to see the art and fic!!

[greetingfromthedead]

Series title: Kiss with a Fist (WIP)

Pairing: Knives x Reader

You duck away from his strike that aimed for your head and stagger backwards, finding your back against the giant metal vault of the Plant. Your heart is pounding as you press against the cold metal. The energy going into keeping you from bleeding out has significantly decreased your power. You know you only have one shot. His left hand slams against the metal next to your head, and the blade of his right hand is mere millimeters away from your throat. His face is so close to yours that you can see the different shades of blue in his eyes even in the dim moonlight. He is breathing heavily, his chest rising and falling rapidly. You keep your gaze on him, the scowl on his face deepening. You don't need to look to know that all the tentacles are hovering behind him, pointed at you, ready to impale you from every direction. You just stand there, pressed against the wall, as he towers over you.

"Go on, do it." You daunt him and keep a close eye on his reaction. The look on his face doesn't change, and he stands frozen. "Good. Guess you have some smarts after all. The best you could hope for here is that we both die. I will fry you the moment your blades touch me."

"Why not kill me now, then?" His eyes narrow with suspicion, but the blades don't move.

"I'm not a fan of the thought of kamikazeing myself; I happen to like life. That said, I will take you with me if you come for me." A grin appears on your face again as you see him so close to you. You tilt your chin up, your faces parallel, your nose nearly touching his. For anyone looking from afar, it could look almost affectionate, like two lovers approaching for a kiss, if it weren't for the blades pointed at you. You feel his breath on your lips, your eyes locked with intense malice in a game of chicken.

"You call that life?" He leans closer, past your face, to speak calmly into your ear. "All I see is an elaborate play you put on for the people who would be eager to turn on you as soon as you give them a single reason to doubt you. An act, a performance, and nothing more. Your life is a lie."

[lost-technology]

Travellers on the Midnight Train

A fanfiction, in snippets.

Summary: Views through the eyes of SEEDS Mothership 5’s crew. Combo-platter of ‘98 and Trigun Maximum.

1. 2.  3.  4.  5.  6. 7. 8. 9. 10. 11. 12. 13. 14. 15. 16. 17. 18. 19. 20. 21. 22. 23. 24. 25.26. 27. 28. 29.30. 31. 32. 33. 34. 35. 36. 37. 38. 39. 40. FINAL. 3. The Anomaly

Captain Joey leaned back in his chair in his office, regarding his personal lightbook.  “I see that you were on duty last from 2405-2410.”  “Yes, sir.”  Rem sat with a small amount of unease in her own seat that was across his desk.  The chair was plush and quite comfortable, but she knew the words that were going to be brought up next.  “So, you were awake during the Anomaly.”  “I was.”  Her voice was as calm and measured as it could be.  She wanted to betray as little emotion as possible, not knowing how the new captain would react.  “The rest of the crew has been briefed on all records that were not sealed under A-Level Classification. No one but you, I and Steve know the full story, and in truth, the two of you know much more than I do from having lived it.”  The captain scratched his head.  “You are on record as having made the discovery of the Plant-product anomalous lifeform, correct?” Rem looked down, her shoulders slumping slightly.  “I did,” she said.  “I was checking systems on Graveyard Shift when I detected an irregular energy-burst in the Central Dock Sovereign electrical-Plant.  I investigated the situation and alerted the rest of the crew to it.  I did everything…according to protocol.”  “Good, good,” the captain said, swiveling his chair halfway around and leaning back in it a little bit more.  “Although what I’ve been reading of the ensuing project, it did not fare well at all.  According to the data on record, you were involved in the observation process and some very early testing, nothing so invasive that it would not have been given to a human child or to a pet puppy for health-upkeep purposes, but the ensuing studies…”  Rem sat in a stern silence, shrinking into her chair.  “You were working closely with Dr. William Conrad, a foremost expert on Plants, even before we left Earth.”  “Yes.”  “It says here that you and he mounted a bit of a mutiny regarding those ensuing studies.”  Finding a bit of boldness, Rem spoke up, her gaze like cold steel.  “What are you getting at, Captain? Are you planning on putting me back on ice right now? Captain Holtz gave me over to complete my ship upkeep and navigation duties during and after the closing of…Project…Tesla.”  Joey closed his lightbook to a sliver and set it down on the desk, sitting straight upright in the chair and swiveling it over so he fully faced her, arms on the armrests.  “No, no, no!  Heavens no!  It took a lot of courage to make your objections known, even if you were outvoted.”  “I didn’t have enough courage, Sir.”  “Nonsense.  You did everything by the book – what you could.  I wish that you had been listened to.  The report files were… not something I needed right after breakfast.”  “Do not make light of it, Sir.” “I assure you that I am not.  This gets to the crux of why I wanted to speak with you first and foremost, Dr. Saverem.”  “You may call me Rem.”  “Rem… yes.  I am assuming that the events of the Anomaly are the source of the tension I am sensing with Engineer Stephen Clef, as he was on the other side of the project.  I can re-arrange working conditions if the two of you need me to.” “No.  I will be alright, Sir,” Rem said.  “The past is the past. The needs of Humanity outweigh any baggage that either of us share.”  “I will bring him in next.  For now, you are dismissed.  Thank you, Dr. Saverem.” 

[neauxwai]

"Eriks..."

What was the next note...? It started here, he was certain. And then...where? ...Here? That felt right.

"Eriks?"

Wait...no, it didn't feel right. It wasn't right at all. What was missing? Why was there always something missing?

He would know. He always knew. He...

"Hey, Eriks?" Something nudged his elbow. His fingers slid off of the old spinet's keys in a dissonant chord.

The song was gone again.

[blueskittlesart]

In defense of the original, while I do agree the episodic vibes were a bit much at times, and it was something I kinda had to work my way through slowly rather than binging all in one...

I do kinda prefer the more gradual approach to laying out the information; getting to know both the setting and who Vash is as a person and the different facets of both, before getting the context that lets it all click into place. Plus the main quartet having ample time to grow together so that later developments have stronger emotional weight.

I will agree that Knives definitely suffered in focus, and I am interested in how Stampede handles him, but admittedly he wasn't really what I watched Trigun for in the first place. ^^;

yeah my gripe is less with the way the setting and characters were handled and more with the way the. actual plot was handled. it honest to god felt to me like they realized about halfway through their run that they didnt have enough episodes left to get the backstory in in a cohesive way so they just shoved it all into one episode and pretended that that explanation didn't create more questions than it answered. you spend 20 episodes teasing your audience like "ooooh what is vash?? clearly hes not human!! clearly there's something going on!!! don't you want to know whats going on?? keep watching and you'll totally understand whats going on!!" and then your big reveal is that. He Is Not Human. which is something that any idiot who has watched the last 20 episodes has already figured out. the question the audience ACTUALLY has at that point in the runtime is what, EXACTLY, is vash, and what the context is behind the conflict he and knives are in. the backstory episode explains that Knives Is Here, and it gives context to the setting and everything, but it pissed me off that it STILL didn't answer the actual mysteries i cared about, i.e. vash's real identity and the thing with the gun and his fucking arm and knives's motivations and everything. maybe that gets answered in the last episode that i neglected to watch but personally I prefer a story where i UNDERSTAND WHAT'S GOING ON by the time the final confrontation hits. with trigun it got to a point where vash was going out for the final battle with knives and i STILL didn't know who vash was, who knives was, where they came from, or what the hell their motivations were. that just made that final confrontation seem so wholly uninteresting to me that i didn't even feel like watching it. it was like "hey look vash is fighting a cardboard cutout that he is Afraid Of. Why? lmao idk man. probably has something to do with that weird spaceship that shows up in one whole episode before this point. not going to tell you how tho." I think some writers have this tendency to think that mystery = good writing and that not revealing anything to your audience will consistently draw them in for more, but that only works for so long. after 20 episodes of virtually net 0 information it got to feel like I was being strung along and like my questions were never going to be answered, so I gave up on the show in the final hour. Again, i'm not saying it was BAD necessarily and i understand the context in terms of writing and production that led to the show being produced that way but i think it really noticeably suffers due to the fact that it refuses to give the audience ANYTHING but crumbs of information for about 80% of it's runtime. that being said. i did genuinely like a lot of it. it has its moments. im not trying to discourage anyone from watching it or anything lol i just think stampede is a little more successful in keeping the viewer engaged in the story throughout by constantly feeding you bits of information and actually answering your questions as they become plot-relevant.

[weredragon]

IDK about you guys but just reading the words "far from here, in a distant time and place, the same song of humanity still sang" OR "that is why after all was said and done, i wanted to share my tomorrows with him" OR "your ticket to the future is always blank!" all immediately have me on the floor in a mess of emotions

[lyricalambrosia]

I love writing normal well adjusted men (aka another snippet of the final chapter of Can You Feel The Sun?, the first two chapters of which you can read here!)

[oh-pretty-blob]

hehe hiiii sooo I read the tags on my fan art and I saw you mentioned writing a fic?? Being 1140 words into one?? That just makes me so curious I would love to read it when it's done!! I love psychological angst and I love Eriks :3c

take care!

Hiiii :D To be honest I've never expected that someone will respond to my rambling haha

The fic I'm working on is mostly focused on dragging Wolfwood through trenches basically (and by trenches I mean literal Desert planet and survivor guilt with the Christian™ Guilt flavouring). Sadly I don't think there will be that much Eriks presented cuz your amazing art literally made me think off: "I want to see fic where they reunite like this" and it went sideways, with the Eriks being the ending. And there is still pretty much a lot of writing before that ;_;

So for now have a little snippet (I barely did basic grammar checking on it, so it will most likely change between this and what will be on AO3). I hope it is any good (´∀｀；)

 He wiped his forehead and closed up his eyes, trying to put the guilt behind him. It was harder with every step he took, every mile closer.

"Why are you doing it to yourself, Wolfwood?" It asked, genuine curiosity in Its voice. "I'm not there, am I?"

He fucking knew. But there still was that sliver of hope. He was like a weed you couldn't get rid of, so why would that change now?

He had to be alive. Especially with the rumors going around. 

"You Know that I'm no longer there?" It moved in front of him, lightly, almost as if It was swimming through the air. 

It changed once more. 

Shifting Its form right before his eyes, from the one he knew so deeply, perfect copy down to smallest of the nicks and blemishes he had, to one resembling more of an angel, more lanky and sharp, covered in whitest of the feathers growing out of his skin like hair would. Settling right in front of him in the form of the child, no older than eight maybe ten years of age. Wearing only the same forsaken coat that now was drowning Its form in the red fabric. It watched him with much too big eyes with sadness covering betrayal in them.

"Aren't you the one who sent me to my death, Nico?" It moved Its head to the side, animalistic in Its gesture. Hair from Its lopsided bowl cut fell on Its face, covering part of it alongside one of Its eyes. It smiled, like It was speaking of some lighthearted nonsense.

[little-piece-of-tamlin]

wip whenever

ty @rowanisawriter for the tag! enjoy a snippet from the next chapter of nectar of life

----

Half a dozen bullets splintered the edges of the pew in front of them, and they moved and ducked between a new pair when the stone cracked and broke completely. A flying piece of rubble caught on Vash’s chin, but he didn’t dignify the scratch with a wince; he was more occupied with the groan Wolfwood made, and the fresh trail of blood making its way down his leg.

„So how do you propose we handle this exactly, Spikey?” he snarled, ducking lower when a bullet almost grazed him.

„There’s three hunters left. We just knock them out! Easy peasy!” Vash gave an anxious giggle at the glare Wolfwood leveled at him. „C’mon!”

I’m gonna prove it to you, he thought, popping up from between the benches to fire at the hunters in the front, aiming at the guns in their hands. If they don’t have anything to shoot with, we can handle them just-

[dozenssporks]

*the video opens with Vash collapsed in the sand looking dry and withered. The camera is at ground level, indicating that the cameraman is probably also on the ground*

Vash speaks, his voice raspy: is this it, Wolfgang? is this how it all ends?

Wolfwood: it ends for you if you keep calling me by made-up names.

Vash: oh, Lobo Arbor, I think I can see the light . . .

Wolfwood: listen here you little brat I told you not to use my name in your little home movies but I didn't say you could just pick me a new one!

Vash: Ulf of the Jungle . . .

Wolfwood: okay that is it--

*the camera shakes as Wolfwood starts crawling toward Vash. Abruptly the image only shows sand, having been dropped mid-journey. Shrieking from off-screen can be heard*

*the video cuts to a new scene*

*Vash is still on the ground, somewhat more sandy, holding the phone above his face. Next to Vash's head Wolfwood's feet can be seen, his shoes also encrusted with sand*

Vash: guys, we're lost in the desert

Wolfwood: we sure are

Vash: this might be our last video, dear viewers

Wolfwood: I want to be cremated and have my ashes portioned up and dumped over the heads of all the people I hate

Vash: I'm not one of those, right?

Wolfwood: you're not that significant to me

Vash gasps: if the desert hadn't dried up my tears I would weep, Wolfgang. We're so horribly dried up . . . like raisins or sun-dried tomatoes . . . if only there were some landmark

Wolfwood: look again, one more time, spiky

*the camera raises up and slowly pans a wobbly path back and forth, showing empty blue skies and yellow sand. It flashes past something triangular, stops, and turns back. The blurred image focuses until the pyramids of Giza are clearly visible*

Vash: no way

Wolfwood: is that--?

Vash: it can't be! it's--!

*disregarding the pyramids the camera whips around and swiftly zooms in on a modern highway and clearly populated and thriving city. Everything blurs again when Vash staggers to his feet*

Vash: It's a pizza hut!

Wolfwood, simultaneously: It's a KFC!

*the camera turns back around to show Vash's overjoyed face and lingers there for a few seconds. Vash's face twists up and after a brief struggle he bursts into laughter*

Vash: just foolin'!

Wolfwood, also laughing: gotcha!

Vash: this video is for everyone who doesn't know that the best view of the pyramids is from a KFC and that even I couldn't get lost between the pyramids and the city!

Wolfwood, breathlessly: pfft, okay let's get some chicken

Vash: no? we're getting pizza hut?

Wolfwood: nooo we agreed on KFC

Vash: we did not, I never did

Wolfwood: yes we did, we're going to get some extra crispy

Vash: nuh uh

Wolfwood: mashed potatoes. biscuits.

Vash: pizza with everything on it!

Wolfwood: Bucket! Of! Chicken!

Vash: ranch-pineapple-BBQ-anchovie-jalapeno-mushroom-green onion-feta-asiago-buffalo--

Wolfwood: whoa jeez is that a pizza order or a curse?! K.F.C.

*Vash screeches and lunges at Wolfwood*

Wolfwood: Oh LORD!

*the camera, again abandoned, shows a beautifully clear image of the cloudless blue sky before the video cuts to black silence*

[hypermoyashi]

Chapter 4 of my Vashwood Roleswap AU is posted!

[read it on ao3]

[chupamaru]

I just had to post this snippet my goobers. Teaser for Mashwoodweek day #1

Meryl has been chasing what she feels like is a ghost for a very long time, but not because of curiosity, but because she feels it, in her heart, in her soul. She cannot explain it, it's always there, silent, quietly simmering underneath her skin. It is something invisible. Something that pulls at her soul. It feels heavy, sometimes angry, but also feeling peaceful yet remorseful at the same time. She cannot explain it, but sometimes. Sometimes it feels like two individuals.

It's there when she lies in bed staring at the ceiling, hearing muffled sounds through the wall where the boys are sharing a room. It's not jealousy, she knows, feels it more than thinks it, it is more like a longing, a want manifesting itself inside her so intensely that she feels like she cannot breathe. She tells herself that she did not cry herself to sleep the morning after.

Meryl recalls her mother telling her about how she met her father. How she was running late one morning for uni. In her haste she bumped into a boy, losing grip of her books and binders, watching them fly out of her hands and scatter like confetti around them. In a hurry she knelt down to pick up her items, but a hand came into her field of view and on the back of his hand, was a little mark, no larger than a coin. A tattoo if you like, an intricate little blob shape.

Her mother would then pause in her storytelling. Look down at seven year old Meryl, as she sits in bed wide-eyed, listening to her bedtime story, with shining eyes.  Then her mother would continue. Remembering how she felt her heart stop when she saw his mark for the first time. He was rambling profusely, apologizing left and right, babbling about how he should have looked where he was going, even though it was her mother who ran into him. She said she would grab his hand with her own, watch how he realizes that she has the same mark as him, he would then look her in the eyes for the first time and-

Meryl does not really remember any more of this story. It was cut off by her mothers squealing in glee. Meryl reaches for the ceiling, noticing a distinct lack of a mark. Or any mark on her body as a memory manifests itself. Of her standing in front of a mirror, naked with her eyes looking. Searching only to end up in disappointed nothingness. Sighing, Meryl rolls over onto her left side on the bed, tucks her hands underneath her head and curls up, making herself small. She closes her eyes and tries to fall asleep. Listening to the murmurs of Vash and Wolfwoods voices on the other side of the wall, lulling her to yet another dreamless sleep.

[lost-technology]

Travellers on the Midnight Train

A fanfiction, in snippets. Tumblr has character-limits / small-bite fanfiction in series form, first edition! Summary: Views through the eyes of SEEDS Mothership 5's crew. Combo-platter of '98 and Trigun Maximum's backstory looming in the background. Teen + rating for Trimax backstory, coarse language and mention of adult situations. 1. 2.  3.  4.  5.  6. 7. 8. 9. 10. 11. 12. 13. 14. 15. 16. 17. 18. 19. 20. 21. 22. 23. 24. 25.26. 27. 28. 29.30. 31. 32. 33. 34. 35. 36. 37. 38. 39. 40. FINAL. 1. Awake

Rem was not looking forward to working with Steve again.  She felt the sharp fire of the warm-up liquid running through her veins as they exchanged glances.  It was sheer luck that they got the same draw on the roster for the five-year waking mission, bad luck, Rem thought.    A crew-meeting was in 30 minutes, to be held after everyone newly awakened from cold sleep could get their bearings.  There would be a meet-and-goodbye with the outgoing crew and a situation brief.  Their captain was awakened ahead of the rest of them and was already conferring with the last captain.    “Heard we’re gettin’ a new captain this time around,” Steve said as he stretched out and paced, reaching around rub some remaining cold out of the back of his neck.  “New to us, anyway.”  “You two know each other?” one of the fresh crewmembers asked – Mary Shaw, their Medical Officer by the crew-files.  Rem remained silent, regarding Steve pensively.  “Yeah, me an’ her were on the rounds 50 years ago.  Don’t worry, we ain’t an item or anything.  Rem’s got her whole grieving widow thing going on.”  Rem folded her arms and leaned against a door frame, her eyes narrowing.  “I would care if you did not talk so casually about my personal life – or about it at all.”  “Wow, icier than the cold sleep room in here,” Mary commented.  Rowan, a technician on this round of duty, cleaned the eyeglasses that he’d retrieved from his stored small items with a cloth.  “I am sure we will all get to know each other and work together just fine.  No one needs to share any personal history they are unwilling to.  It is nearly time for the consultation.”  

[mydetheturk]

snippet 1:

"We are going to go home. And then your dumb ass is going to lay in bed with me because if I take my eyes off of you one more fucking time, I’m pretty sure one of Zazie’s goddamn worms is going to eat you.”

Elendira shook a tiny bit. Even she was a little shocked at the intensity of her words.

Livio or Razlo or both of them shakily put their hand on Elendira’s and lifted it up so they could turn their head and press a kiss to her bloody palm.

“Let’s go home, El,” one of them whispered.

[feniverse-unfiltered]

AU’s I’m thinking about tonight:

TriMax Vash & Wolfwood western au (they’re outlaws taking refuge in an “abandoned” barn when Fen stumbles across them)

Tristamp baseball AU (literally the ONLY reason this is on my mind is because of that one baseball post that goes around every once in awhile where a baseball player is talking to a reporter and a ball comes flying towards the reporter and the guy just nonchalantly glances back and catches it. I want to draw Wolfwood and Meryl in that situation)

Kids’ soccer coach AU (the only reason this came to mind is because I think it’d be VERY funny to have Tristamp Wolfwood and Em be coaches for two different kids teams and have this intense rivalry and then confused referee Vash and a bunch of clueless little kids in the background )

EDIT: sandwiching this into the single dad AU. Wolfwood is the coach for the girls soccer team, Em is coaching for the boys, they argue about who gets the field which day

Additionally: Modern AU where Fen works at a Nature Center at a park that Vash likes to visit a lot, and one day he brings Wolfwood with him (who isn't much of a nature guy/outdoors-y person) but once he meets Fen he's captivated and he keeps coming back to "hike" just to chat with her ;-;