#✟ ｡ — ❛ Nico you tried to do everything by yourself again.❜ ( KID NICHOLAS.)

[crucifixi]

also the hurt / comfort meme for over here, but dealer's choice 2.0 because i'm at clay and can't really send stuff

⠀⠀⠀⠀HURT-TO-COMFORT ACTION PROMPTS

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀[ SHELTER ] + [ TENDER ]

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀The wind howled, carrying with it the ominous scent of impending danger. Wolfwood's instincts kicked into high gear as he saw the storm barreling toward them. He held the injured and incapacitated Nicholas close, sheltering him from the raging tempest. With a determined gaze, he turned his back to the threat, ready to bear the brunt of the impact.

The storm crashed upon them, unleashing its fury. Debris flew, and the ground trembled beneath their feet. The older male shielded the young boy with his own body, absorbing the full force of the storm's wrath. He refused to let any harm befall the child he had sworn to protect.

When the chaos subsided, the priest battered and heavily injured, mustered all his strength to find shelter. He stumbled through the wreckage, his vision blurred, his body aching. Finally, he collapsed in a secluded corner, cradling the unconscious child in his arms.

Time passed, and as the boy began to stir, he found himself enveloped in a warm and comforting embrace. Groggy eyes opened to meet the gentle gaze of his older self. His calloused hand brushed strands of hair off the boy's forehead, revealing a face smeared with dirt, blood, and tears.

A soft, raspy voice filled the air.

"Yer awake, kid."

Nicholas managed a weak smile, his voice barely a whisper.

❛ You... you saved me.. ❜

Wolfwood nodded, his thumb delicately wiping away the remnants of the boy's suffering.

"Always. I promised to look after ya, didn't I?"

Tears welled up in Nicholas' eyes, a mixture of pain and gratitude. He reached out and weakly hug his older self’s neck tightly. The young boy fought the urge to cry but his shaking form couldn’t hold up and he burst into sobs.

[crucifixi]

[ GOODBYE ]:     as they’re bidding each other farewell for the foreseeable future, the sender gently touches their forehead against the receivers. --- @apostacizing

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀FOREHAND TOUCH

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ @apostacizing

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀———

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀As the sun dipped below the horizon, casting a melancholic glow across the desolate landscape, Nicholas and Wolfwood stood side by side, their hearts heavy with the weight of impending separation. The air was thick with unspoken words, and the silence between them spoke volumes.

They knew this farewell was not like the others. Fate had conspired against them, tearing them apart for an indefinite period. Nicholas, usually composed and stoic, could no longer contain his sorrow. Tears streamed down his face, his small shoulders shaking with the weight of his despair. It was a rare sight.

Wolfwood wished he could shield the boy from the cruel reality that awaited them both. But life had other plans, and they were mere pawns in its merciless game. Nicholas stood with his heart pounding, tears streaming down his face, his small fists clenched at his sides. The Wolfwood, an older mirror of himself, knelt before him, a somber expression etched into his features.

Eyes shimmering with unshed tears, Wolfwood gently pressed his forehead against Nicholas', a silent promise in the action. It was a tender moment, a painful farewell that had to be done.

Nicholas could barely see through his tears, his heart aching with a pain he hadn't felt before. Nicholas clung desperately to the older version of himself, his tiny hands gripping the fabric of Wolfwood's coat as if trying to anchor him to this world. His voice trembled as he pleaded, his words choked with sorrow.

❛ Promise... promise me you'll come back soon. You better old man.. ❜

Nicholas sobbed, his voice echoing in the silent room.

Wolfwood's heart shattered, for he knew that soon would be an empty promise. The weight of their shared destiny pressed against him, suffocating him with its inevitability. He wanted nothing more than to grant Nicholas's plea, to promise him the world and keep him safe from harm. But the truth was cruel and unyielding, a bitter pill they both had to swallow.

But as Nicholas clung to him, his small body shaking with sobs, Wolfwood knew the promise was empty. He was walking a path with no return, a path that would take him far away from Nicholas.

As he gently pried Nicholas' hands from his cloak and stood up, he cast one last look at the boy. His younger self. His heart ached at the raw pain in Nicholas' eyes.

[crucifixi]

∗ 26﹕ sender  lights  receiver’s  cigarette. a horrible influence on the boy; though, the habit is inevitable for him anyways. --- @apostacizing

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀100 NONVERBAL PROMPTS

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ @apostacizing

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀Nico fumbled with the cigarette between his tiny fingers, his face all scrunched up in concentration. The young boy had always been fascinated by them smoky tendrils that escaped from the grown-ups' mouths, but this here was the first time he was giving it a whirl himself.

Wolfwood couldn't help but smile at the innocence of it all. He knew the boy wasn't really old enough to be smoking, but he also understood the allure of trying something new, something forbidden. So, with a mixture of caution and fondness, he decided to lend a helping hand.

"Here, kid. Let me show ya how it's done."

He said, taking the cigarette from the child's grasp.

With a practiced motion, Wolfwood brought the lighter to the tip of the cigarette and flicked it open, a warm flame dancing to life. He held it steady, careful not to let the flame touch the delicate paper. Nico's eyes widened in awe as he watched the glowing ember take shape before him.

Gently, Wolfwood guided the cigarette back to Nico's waiting fingers, his touch lingering for a moment longer than necessary. The older man's hand was rough and calloused, a stark contrast to the softness of the child's skin.

Nico eyes glued to the cigarette as it smoldered in his hand. He took a tentative puff, his face twisting up in a mix of surprise and distaste. The taste of tobacco was far from what he had expected, and he promptly coughed, the sound echoing through the quiet air.

Wolfwood let out a hearty chuckle, patting the boy's back gently.

[crucifixi]

[ CLEAN ] — sender begins cleaning receiver's mess

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ Lil’ Shit Nico

⠀⠀Vash grinned as he surveyed the aftermath of dinner. Nico and Livio had certainly outdone themselves this time. The usually quiet dining room was now a warzone of scattered food and overturned dishes. He couldn't help but smile, despite the chaos.

"You two sure know how to make a mess. "

Vash said, trying to sound stern but failing as the young boys giggled from their seats. Nicholas’ face smeared with tomato sauce, giggled and pointed at Livio, who had noodles tangled in his hair.

❛ Livio started it, promise! ❜

Livio, who had been trying to maintain a composed expression, couldn’t hold back his laughter.

He grabbed a wet cloth and knelt down beside the boys. Nicholas squirmed in his chair, smearing more sauce on his cheeks, while Livio tried unsuccessfully to wipe spaghetti off his forehead.

[crucifixi]

⠀⠀⠀[ CLOSED STARTER: @apostacizing ] | Fixing up Angelina 2.0

⠀⠀⠀Wolfwood sighed, wiping the sweat from his brow with the back of his hand. Angelina was propped up on a pair of sturdy blocks, her mechanical entrails exposed. Today was tune-up day, and while he generally enjoyed the task, it was proving a little more challenging than he'd anticipated.

Tools clinked and clattered in his hands, and he hummed a tune under his breath. It was a peaceful afternoon, with the sun casting a warm glow over the small garage.

In the midst of his work, a mischievous voice broke the silence.

❛ Old man! Whatcha doin'? ❜