#𝑫𝒚𝒏𝒂𝒎𝒊𝒕𝒆 𝒘𝒊𝒕𝒉 𝒂 𝒍𝒂𝒔𝒆𝒓𝒃𝒆𝒂𝒎 (Wolfwood)

[flosalatus]

@nothinglikegod | X

-

The blond bristles like a cat at the taunting. Shoulders tense, hands curled and purposfully angling his body away from Wolfwood. He refuses to rise to the bait, no matter how much it boils under his skin.

He knows what the other is like, why he does this, trying to coax out another side of Vash, one he keeps under tight lock and key. He won't fall for it, won't let this man goad him

But god is it tempting right now.

No-one can get quite under Vash's skin like Nicholas D. Wolfwood, and that's both a blesing and a curse in one. There's equal parts comfort and horror in having someone who can see him the way this man does, and right now it's pissing him off even more.

"Stop it" Vash hisses through barred fangs, shifts on his feet. Back taut, rocking on his tiptoes. His form is an aimed gun, pinched expression the barrel aimed to Wolfwood, and it's impossible to tell what will kick in first if the trigger is pulled, fight or flight.

"M'not gunna fight you, so shut it-"

[flosalatus]

@pacifistwithagun

-

Air leaves him in a startled whoosh as he's manhandled, breathless giggles listening to Wolfwood grumble as he wiggles to make himself comfortable in this new position.

This is great, wonderfull even. It's a little like getting drunk, but without the horrible taste in his mouth. Would he have a hangover from this, he wonders?

Vash whines at the sight of the blanket, kicking at the fabric petulantly and only succeding in getting himself tangled, inducing another round of bright, childish giggles.

"I'm not tired, silly!" He scolds, rolling over to watch Wolfwood with blown pupils, preening at the last comment. Like he's proud of himself for coaxing the other to lose his cool.

In a way, he kind of is.

"Mmm, no. I think you're a good influence, actually" He counters in a light hum. "You make me happy, make the world brighter to live in"

The way the other was acting didn't ease his terror, in fact it made the vampire feel a pure dread. The giggling had him pale, wondering just how he'd survive knowing he'd killed the only thing he'd dared to love since- "Wait, high?" he blinks, brows furrowing as he narrowed his eyes at the other, adjusting the man atop him before growling and standing, snatching the male and gently shoved him into the bed once he turned. "I- fuck." he cursed, trying to work through his mind at an inhuman speed. "Just.... Sleep then. I'll keep an eye on you... Wake you up from time to time to make sure you didn't die because you were an idiot again." he huffed, exasperated as he tugged the blanket out, moving to lay it over the other. He felt fantastic, like he was pumped so full of energy he could run from Julai to the orphanage and back without stopping, but he forced himself to focus. Because that energy came at a cost, his silly little dandelion was now high as a kite. "I really am a bad influence on you, eh spikey?" he huffs, smiling slightly as he shook his head.

[flosalatus]

💭?

@wolfcross (Thought abt it for 2 seconds and chose violence)

-

Suddenly, perhaps unexpectedly, tears form in the blonds eyes with the mention of the man's name, visibly choked up, swallowing hard around the lump in his throat before he even attempts to speak.

"He-"

"...Love is an understatement. Wolfwood, Nicholas, he-He's everything. If soulmates are real, I'd refuse to accept he's not mine."

"I loved him with everything I am for hundreds of years, for lifetimes, and I'll never stop loving him for hundreds more. Even if the only thing to keep me going is the chance to experiance knowing him over and over again, I'll take it. I'll endure it just to have him in my life for a moment more..."

[flosalatus]

Starter for @crucifixedsin

-

Vash knows who he is.

The pieces hadn't been all there at the very begining, thats why he still lets the people here call him Eriks, feels comfortable in the role they gave him. Too comfortable to ruin it with the realisation of his name.

He knows what he is, knows the dangers that follow him, knows his brother is still out there, knows Knives won;t forgive him, will chase him twice as hard and thrice as vicious next time.

But for now, he stays here, where no-one knows him, and he only just knows himself.

He'll admit that what he's doing is hiding. Hiding from his brother, hiding from himself, hiding from the gaps in his memory that whisper and claw at his conciousness, begging to be recalled but always just barely out of reach.

Vash knows who he is, but he doesn;t know the figure of a woman, of warm hugs and laughter. He doesn't know the warm shadows of a pair who make him feel warm and lonely at the same time. The press of tiny, determined hands in the small of his back, shoving him without a care for his reputation.

He doesn't know the man shrouded in smoke and spices, warm, rich and always the closest yet furthest out of reach.

He knows the rosary Vash had found belongs to him, somehow. The necklace feels familiar, cool to the touch in his palm, to his lips when he kneels at the end of his bed some nights and prays to a god he doesn't quite believe in to bring the memory back, to fill the lonely, longing gap these people have left in him.

He worries, the longer time passes. That he will never see those people, never fill those gaps, and will never fully be himself again without them.

So when a stranger wanders into his little hide-away, Vash thinks nothing of it. His hope had dwindled long ago, and it's only when the shadow of a cross falls across where the blond had sat himself, sunbathing for the afternoon, Vash looks up and meets the eyes of a man shrouded in the smoke that curls from his lips, feels a pang of familiarity in his chest so strong it's painful, and can do nothing but stare at the man in awe.

[flosalatus]

💭

@crucifixedsin

-

"He really is a little like a feral cat sometimes, isn't he?"

"Hm, but...That's just it. Like a feral cat, it's all a warning. Puffing himself up and hissing and swatting at what he sees as threats, but under all that hot air he's not half as prickly."

"I meant what I said y'know? I can see it, Wolfwood's not a bad man. He just hides his kindness, hides his heart"

"I think...I want to see more of that side of him. For him to be comfortable enough to show me"

[flosalatus]

@crucifixedsin

-

Vash just huffs in reply, but at least the growl of warning has cut off, nothing more than a lingering rasp in his tone when Vash grumbles and grouches back;

"Are we all happy now? Can we never talk about this again?" The blond was beyond embaressed with his own behaviour, so quickly losing his compusure when Wolfwood was the one pressing.

He was absolutely never going to admit he liked the idea of sinking his teeth into Wolfwood's skin, just...in a very diferent context than his previous threat.

God, he was doomed if the man ever got that close to him again.

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀Wolfwood's eyes widened as Vash bared his teeth in defense, revealing a set of canines that looked sharp enough to cut through steel.

The growl rumbled in Vash's chest, for a moment, Wolfwood was captivated by the sight of this usually gentle man showing such a primal and deadly side. He couldn't help but find it attractive, which was very concerning that he did.

But then, Vash threatened to bite Wolfwood, and the moment was shattered.

❛ Hey, hey, easy there. No need to get all bitey— ironic coming from my mouth. ❜

[flosalatus]

@crucifixedsin | x

--

The blond makes a small, frustrated noise in the back of his throat at the delayed acknowledgement, gently grabbing at the now blood stained hand and pulling it out of the way to assess the wound himself, his other hand brushing hair out of the way.

He finds gash at his temple, not too deep or wide, but long and bleeding steadily. Vash's shoulders drop a little at the reassurance it's not as bad as it looked from first glance.

There's not much Vash can do to patch the other up right now, much to his chagrin, so he settles for wiping away the worst of it so nothing drips into Wolfwood's eyes, not giving a second thought to the way it seeps into the material of his glove.

Vash cocks his head and listens for a moment, then tugs at the hand still in his. "Coast is clear, let's get out of here and get you patched up"

[flosalatus]

“You fell asleep in my arms. it was kind of adorable.”

Wolfwood sounds a little (a lot) smug about it, and maybe he is. Maybe it's a little bit of a front, too, because relief and affection crinkle in the corners of his eyes in equal measure.

Vash is technically his mark. Granted, a mark he is to deliver alive, safe and sound. He shouldn't be doing this. He really, really shouldn't be doing this at all, not so close, not with so much contact, but Vash trusts, trusts him enough to be completely vulnerable and it just. It does something. It does something to him. For him.

In for a c-cent, in for a double dollar, he guesses. (He's fucked. He is so, so fucked, and something defiant in him crows about it, revels in it, and he wonders where in the hell his sense of self-preservation went.)

Either way, he's not in a hurry to let go. Not as he tips his face forward into sleep-strewn blond fluff and exhales warm and rumbling.

@full-of-mercy

-

A jaw cracking yawn answers him, canines flashing and tongue curling not unlike a cat, uncovered blue eyes blinking lazily up at him from where the blond had ended up slumped, practically curled up in his lap.

Wolfwood doesn't sound upset, so Vash tries not to feel too guilty over using the man as a pillow, leaning up into the nose nuzzled into his hair with an answering purr.

"You're comfortable" He states, wriggling it sit properly as if to prove his point, ducking his head happily into the crook of Wolfwood's neck like this is perfectly normal and no big deal. "Felt relaxed 'round you"

[flosalatus]

❛ you okay? caught you staring off into space again. ❜

@crucifixedsin (finally-)

-

"Hm?" Vash blinks and finds his eyes wet, chest tight with something he can't quite put his finger on right now.

Fear. Affection. Anxiety. Dread.

He can't....stop thinking out it. That warning.

The fact that one day, maybe soon, he can and likely will lose the man standing before him.

"I'm fine" He wipes at his eyes before the tears can fall, swallows back the lump and smiles. "Did you need something?"

[flosalatus]

@divinepunishment

-

Vash perks up and settles instantly with his arrival, the impression of a soft timber voice, brushing across his senses with warm fingertips.

He doesn't hesitate before crowding into Nico's space, butting his head under the man's chin and chittering away at him. The affectionate noises quickly shifting into sharper, scolding tones when the blond spots his injuries.

Sharp eyes narrow, gentle thumbs press feather-light against the bridge of the bloody nose, wipe away a dried smear of crimson beneath his nostril

Vash knows better than to ask what happened, can assume for himself just from knowing what their lives here are like. So he jusf reaches out to soothe, his touch inhuman, physical and mental, a gentle press and soft murmur.

'Hurts?'

It's not the worst injury, but Vash can't imagine it's pleasent to have the bruise blooming across his skin, wishes he could easily take the pain away.

Instead all he can do is settle himself practically in the others lap, pressed close and purring softly as he offers the messy, patchy spot on his wings where Vash had been yanking at the feathers to be fixed and neatened back up.

'Sorry.' The ear-like wings at his temple flick sheepishly, knowing his Nico isn't truely upset with him, but guilty none the less. He knows the human has a point, afterall.

'You were late, I worried'

If there was one thing Wolfwood was, it was stubborn. The church was not a place for the faint of heart, and not something you could simply walk away from. Acting as the law of the city, he was branded at his chest as one of them and in kind granted their boons- against his will.

The constant executions they held were frankly horrific, and Nicolas was the one who cleaned up after it all. Kept their treasured 'angel' tended to, a symbol of fear to scare the masses into compliance. Look what happened when you don't obey? What happens to sinners who don't listen to the order.

It made him sick.

So did the others there; the ones who joined willingly. He was an outcast amongst those in power and given a job the ones in power thought he wouldn't walk away from.

Instead, he'd gained his best friend... Vash.

The day he walked out of the enclosure for their 'vengeful angel' unharmed and his job acomplished he'd become feared as well, angel kin he'd been called one. A mix of man and monster if he was able to walk amongst them unharmed.

Fear at least, commanded respect. He was allowed to live and grow with Vash, their connection growing over the years. Even with the occasional beatings from jealous overseers or apostles that tried their luck, his booming voice and strength when he hit puberty quickly struck them back.

His time with Vash was sacred, and none were allowed in until he was done... Like today. His voice raises, commanding the guards to leave or risk mauling when he entered. Vash's enclosure these days actually big enough to hold him somewhat comfortably- when he wasn't aggitated and looking like a puffed up dandilion. The guards leave and Wolfwood unlocks the cage to get in, his soft reach into their shared psychic connection a deep warmth like his soul. Hey Dandelion... What I tell you about plucking? Wolfwood coos as he moves to sit, inviting his friend to invade his space and let him care for the man. An extra ration of food slipped from his robe. Even if he was bruised and nose bloody from what clearly was a fight.

You need those feathers... Gonna make yourself bald before we can escape some day. Wolfwood's tone is full of fondness, a smile just for Vash as he mades gentle grabby hands towards the great big moth.

[flosalatus]

❛ there is no good, there is no evil. there is only “goovil”. ❜

@full-of-mercy

-

He tries to muffle it, hiding the grin behind his hand, but soon Vash is falling over himself with uproarous laughter, giddily kicking his feet in mirth.

"Goovil-" He squeaks, trying to catch his breath. "-Oh my, oh geez-Wolfwood, Nick, Buddy I think you're a little drunk" Vash teases through lingering chuckles, tugging playfully at the other's hair, his shirt collar, a little tipsy himself.

Oh this is absolutely delightful though.

[flosalatus]

❛ you can’t save everyone. ❜ mmm angst

@crucifixedsin

-

"You think I don't know that!?" A flash of teeth, the whites of eyes. Vash rounds on him with a snap, sharp and loud in the quiet, that eerie silence of a battle ended.

He regrets his tone as soon as the words ring in the air between them, but it's already too late to take it back, Vash is wound too tight on adrenenlin, on guilt and fear and a simmering of rage.

His breath hitches on a sob, biting his lip till he tastes copper to stop himself from shattering at Wolfwood's feet.

"I can still try-If it has the slightest chance of saving at least one life, I will never not try"

[flosalatus]

@crucifixedsin x

-

Vash tries not to fidget, a protest on his tounge, cut off with a sharp hiss through his teeth as the other digs around in his flesh for the bullet.

He scrunches his eyes and nose against the ache, never as used to the sting of pain as he claims to be, just usually good at hiding when it hurts

The tension wound in Vash's muscles loosens with the plink of the bullet hitting the ground, tight expression falling into something between guilt and a pout, flexing his foot to make sure no nerves had been damaged, but not yet trying to pull his leg out of Wolfwood's lap.

The limb pulls paintfully, and Vash will likely have a limp tomorrow at least, but nothing feels permenantly damaged

"We both know I'd've been fine" He counters, bordering on petulant. "I am fine, that'll heal by tomorrow probbaly. You don't need to....fuss" 'To care' Honestly, the insistance on treating the wound had left Vash too off-guard and shellshocked to argue in the moment.

It wasn't...something people offered to do for him, let alone follow through on. Vash was used to treating himself, forced to simply let it heal with time if he couldn't reach a wound.

"Shots like that don't really hurt me they way they would a human, it's fine if I take the hits" He continues to insist, unsettled by Wolfwood's own attitude, what can only be called an aggresive concern.

[flosalatus]

@full-of-mercy

-

From the moment they set foot in the town Vash seems to come alive under the lights and sounds, his eyes visibly widening behind ever-present shades and the blond starts practically vibrating in place with the energy that builds in him, constantly bouncing between the members of their group, drifting towards bright lights and the sounds of music before darting back to their sides.

It's not until they find somehwere they can stop to settle in that Vash finally drifts for longer than a moment, takes note of Wolfwood by the wall, Meryl at the counter, Roberto hovering somewhere in the middle, and the blond himself quickly disapears into the crowd to look around, chasing the familiar old tunes with a sway in his steps.

Vash has always had a love for music, since Rem introduced them to her favourite sings from Earth, holding his hands and dancing around to the radio, learning to play them for her on the piano, singing together.

After, music had a bittersweet tang. It hurt, but it was a way to keep her memory alive, to keep the good times close. He tried to keep up with practice, never let himself forget how to play her favourite songs, never forgot the words.

And now, it hurts a little less, it's easier to let the rhymth and bass wash over him, sync with his heartbeat and drift with the melodies.

Now, his love for music is pure again, and strong enough that he finds his feet bringing him deep into the crowds, swept up in the heartbeat, the rhythm of life and enjoment, happiness, giddy and dizzying.

He forgets to keep an eye on his companions as he steps and spins, jacket flaring like a gown in brilliant flashes of crimson, laughter catching above the noise for just a moment before it's buried under other shrieks of joy and whoops of awe.

It's loud, chaotic, manic. And Vash loves it, eats up the way he can disappear among the other bodies and no-one bats an eye, blends in and basks, feels electric and alive.

He's completely unaware of the way a soft glow lights his skin, just barely subtle enough to be passed off as the lighting of the room at a first glance, to anyone who didn't know any better, if not for the way the glow pulses a rhythm of it's own, lines flashing bold for just a moment when Vash tips his head back on a spin, lips wide in an almost manic grin before settling back into a fainter light when he dips back out of view.

@flosalatus -- closed starter

Few and far between are the opportunities to take a break, take a breather, collect themselves. Sorely needed, one presents itself after days of driving in near-silence broken only by pressuring their Preacher into handing in the bounty on some raiders they'd left tied up and alive in the government's hands.

Courtesy of Roberto's encyclopedic knowledge of watering holes scattered throughout the wastes, this one is special in its own right, the dusty jewel of a lively settlement called Opryton.

The proprietors of Fiddle Me This Saloon probably didn't consider how suspicious the colloquial name of the business sounds. Or maybe they did, considering the clientele and the agreements necessary to keep a place like this safe and operational.

Either way, they have salvaged some lost technology, kept it operational since the Big Fall, and leverage it to create a sonic landscape that flows along with drinks and food, the benefits of being along a big city road. Speakers line the walls and strut supports, glossy stacks thoroughly at odds with the scrap nature of the building, old space-faring parts lovingly welded together against the punishing environment.

Someone had a sense of humor. The building is curvy like a violin. A small scratch of truth in advertising, maybe, making room for two above-ground stories of music and dancing.

Wolfwood retreats to find a seat along a wall - not like there are any corners to be had here, of course - and takes up a post to people-watch with a bottle of whisky and a fresh supply of good cigarettes. They'll be crumpled before long, probably.

Not that he cares as he lights up.

Roberto, within earshot of Vash, nudges Meryl, muttering something about loud enough, drunk enough, and could leave their dubious con-man murderer tag-along in the dust. Meryl breaks away from her superior, scurrying up to the bar counter, gleeful at the notion of eating somewhere with a menu.

[flosalatus]

❛ Here this reminded me of you, spikey. ❜

Wolfwood put a slightly cool rock in his hand

@crucifixedsin

-

His head tilts with a curious noise, attention caught by the little gift, holding out his hand obediantly.

Perhaps despite expectations, the blond lights up as a small, solid rock is pressed into his palm, instantly bringing the trinket up to eye level to inspect it.

It looks plain at first glance, grey and white, but as Vash tilts and examines it in the sun, miniscule fractles of crystal catch the light and glitter like stardust, embedded in the swirling lines of white.

"Wolfwood...." He mumbles softly, holding the little rock to his chest for a moment before tucking it safely away in an inner pocket of his jacket.

"I love it, thank you" Vash beams, bright and sincere.

[flosalatus]

🫂

@full-of-mercy | Hugs

--

He barely gets a chance to say anything before the man strides forwards and sweeps him into a tight hug, an embrace that speaks of mourning and longing.

He finds himself leaning into the hug, curling his hand white knuckled in the back of a wrinkled blazer. He doesn't know why, but these arms feel like home.

He tucks his face into the crook of the man's neck and his senses are filled with gunpower, nicotine and sandalwood.

It's so familiar it makes his chest ache, and he can't help but feel like something sweet is missing from the scent, but why?

"...Do I...know you?" He whispers and in a burst of fear he doesn't fully understand, clings tighter lest the other try and pull away.