#or vashwood if u squint

[frogenthusiastt]

HI ILY

8 for the writing prompt :)

8: Sunbathing

The early morning is still.

The dunes are faded amber in the early hour, like they haven't yet remembered how to be real. Vash has always appreciated the liminality of this time, when the first sun has just returned and most people are still asleep. Very few times has danger found him when anyone with a gun is still in bed working off their inebriation, and greed and violence has not yet taken shape on the tip of their tongues.

He watches the scenery come to life from underneath the cliff he's perched on, breathing in the air on just the right side of cool and letting the world breathe its life back into him. He feels limitless, like the borders of his body is still about as tangible as the breaking of light against the horizon.

Wolfwood has never understood his predilection towards early hours. He's always been the type of man to come alive in the evening, suddenly setting out to do tasks or getting engrossed in a book or sharing a beer or ten. Whenever Vash wants to ask him for a favor he knows to do it after 6 pm and it'll cut the otherwise lengthy process in half. For all that he loves to bitch and moan to the point Vash suspects it's just some complicated form of affection at this point, sometimes it's nice to just get straight to the point.

It's just before 5 am right now, and Vash knows Wolfwood will probably threaten to do bodily harm if he so much as breathes in his direction for the next 4 hours, but Vash is content to just sit here and breathe in time and pale light and let himself be until that time comes.

That's another thing Wolfwood has never understood about him. One of the parts he does his darnedest to hide in order to not make people uncomfortable. You know, he'd told him once, you can sit really still when you don't think anyone sees you. It's like you– I don't know, you zone out for a moment and suddenly it's like you're not really there anymore.

Vash had laughed him off, told him he shouldn't fault a man for getting stiff at his old age. He doesn't know how to explain this, that if he silences the motion of his body he can hear the rest of the world singing back to him.

Vash puts a hand on the ground and feels the red rust of desert patina in the back of his mouth. Further down, further than that it's years and years of basalt, interlaced with streaks of quartz and tourmaline and calcium tungstate sleeping in the shadowy depths of the planet. It tastes like salt licorice, coats his gums in salty film and makes him feel cool and sturdy and safe.

When he breathes in he can feel the nitrogen and oxygen molecules tumbling in their usual fervent skirmish, dancing around each other and rolling around in his lungs, in his bloodstream. Carbon dioxide comes in with its delightful sweetness, tasting of joy and life and flushing his cheeks red. Methane and ozone taste metallic, buzzing sharp-slap that remind him of his brother.

And then, joyous of all, is the sun now coming in with its loving weight, dousing his limbs and his body and his mind in warm golden love. Vash breathes in slow, breathes out even slower and lets himself indulge in this cycle his body desperately craves, more than any water or food. The sun loves him, the sun has always loved him and cared for him and nurtured him, from the moment he was born and a little before that still.

The vibrating hot fills his bloodstream in a rush and his eyelids droop closed, lets the thinnest expanses of skin drink up the electromagnetic affection from his face, his neck, his wrists, the soles of his feet. It's hard to think like this, when the sun is in him and around him and making him drowsy and giddy and excited and calm. This is probably what drugs feel like to humans, something that had confused him when he was young and had tried them for the first time. The blissed out faces of people dancing and singing and kissing had confused him, then, when all he tasted was 3,4-methylenedioxy-N-methylamphetamine and 3,4-methylene-dioxyprovalerone and bath salts, but later it had clicked, on a morning just like this one.

Vash breathes in and it's love-love-love, pure and unfiltered, golden and sultry and dripping down his veins like honey. The sun is in him and its child watches from her skirts and his bones feel aligned for the first time in a long time, like something in him has shifted just slightly to the left and everything had been fine all along.

Time drips from an olive branch, heavy and languid. Wind jostles his hair and sends ripples against the fine hairs on his arms, wakes his nerves up with sparks, reminds him of the outside world. He opens his eyes slowly, adjusting back over the imprints of light still dancing across his sclera.

Two ladies are making their way across the main street, hair perfectly fixed and chattering amongst themselves. Escorts, probably. Vash can see no other reason why someone would look so presentable at this time of day. A couple of construction workers have gathered at the saloons, fixing themselves some coffee before their labor begins. He regards them all fondly, the well oiled machine in how they move around each other like a song and dance, the murmur of their greetings and the pat-pat-pat of their feet against the ground.

One lady makes her way from the hotel they had been staying at, russet hair bouncing as she walks with purpose and– oh that's Meryl. She's walking straight towards him, even though he doubts she can see him from here. It's always been an uncanny ability of hers, the way she can figure anyone out from the moment she meets them: what their favorite flavor of ice cream is, how they like to sleep, where they're most likely to be at just shy of 6 am in the morning. Vash works motion back into his body as she makes her way up the hill, willing the glow of his skin back into something more standard for a human man. He's not surprised when she comes up to sit next to him. Maybe that's why she understands people so well - she always makes sure to be placed at their level, always makes sure to look people in the eye.

"Morning Mr Vash," she says kindly.

"Morning," he replies.

She turns to look out the postcard view in front of them. "Oh wow, that's a mighty beautiful sight! I can see all the people of town from up here."

He smiles. He knew she'd get it. "Yeah."

They sit in amicable silence for a few minutes, basking in the sunlight, knees knocking together. She hums a tune he hasn't heart before. He listens.

After a few minutes she stretches and yawns, standing back up and patting the dust of her skirt with a firm pat pat. "Would you like to join me for breakfast? Food always tastes better with company."

He takes her outstretched hand, feels the warmth of it as he stands.

"Yeah. I'd like that."

[raepliica]

priest guy sending mixed signals, what is he up to?🤨🕶🤏

~~~

[Image Description: A warm-toned comic featuring Trigun98 characters. It opens with Vash shouting "YOWCH!!" as a half-eaten donut flies through the air, a bruise on Vash's tongue. Meryl, editing papers, is annoyed as he complains: "Ow! Ow! I bi'e my 'ongue..." "What's the rush?" Meryl asks, "They're all yours." Vash, still hurt, tries to explain: "They're jus' sooo good!" Meryl argues back, "Well, savour it then!" Wolfwood has been watching the scene unfold as Meryl continues, "Satisfying your sweet tooth doesn't come cheap, unfortunately." Wolfwood clicks his lighter open and closed, again and again. Without a word, he leans closer, his thumb on Vash's lips. "Wolfwood...?" Vash trails off. Then, Wolfwood opens Vash's mouth and knicks his thumb on one of Vash's canines in one fell swoop. "Wah? Huh??" Vash says as Wolfwood pulls his bleeding thumb away. He licks the blood off the wound then snickers at Vash. Meryl looks disgusted, Vash has lit up in an embarrassed explosion, and Milly remarks, curious: "Those are surprisingly sharp, Mr. Vash!" Question marks float around Vash, and his donuts lay discarded on the table. Each panel is signed by raepliica. End ID]

[ruporas]

[vamp-bites]

Anybody say vampire au Vashwood? Anybody? Really, nobody?

[ival-eon]

trigun doodles pt2 ft. plant creature vash

ive put him in a jar and im shaking it

commissions open - pinned | inprnt in bio !!

[silvermahogany]

Brainworms

[colscortex]

Uhhh you guys rly liked the first doodle dump so here u go :)

[yoursminehourss]

doodledump 2: trigun edition! except im not very good at it 😅 i dont know how to draw 98 vashs hair but i think the way i draw tristamp vash is good enough :)

[h4venpha]

this is literally just vashwood (both ways if u squint hard enough)

[loonyloutimes]

slight trimax spoilers if u squint but satosugus ur vashwood

[tomboyyyaoi]

i LOVE vashwood but bc its the Fandom Fav tm its absolutely everywhere n i dont feel like im getting enough vashmeryl which is My Fav tm n i feel like barely anyone ships them bc barely anyone GETS them and how theyr just as deep as vashwood like i promise theyr not just a shoehorned het romance and i could babble on about how if u genuinely see them that way then u either severely lack reading comprehension or have some sort of internalised misogyny (coz it nearly allllllllways falls on some reason that reads as 'i just dont think meryl is a very deep character' like yes she is u just stopped caring when a woman was on the page) i really feel like i could go on and on and on and on and on and on if i was in more of a mood to but like

oh my god its not even like their connection is always so subtle that u have to squint like the amount they care about eachother is so clear meryl just isnt the kind of character to verbally say it bc shes emotionally closed off (WHICH SHE KNOWS AND GETS UPSET ABOUT IN THE EARLY MANGA) but u can tell she WANTS to say something and she does, just internally, they see right fucking thru eachother bc they relate to eachother despite how wildly different their lives and experiences are and god theyr both PINING for eachother they just want to HELP and PROTECT eachother but shes emotionally stunted (cough cough autism headcanon here) and hes deliberately closed off bc if he were to open up about anything it would just be one big incomprehensible traumadump he doesnt wanna put on anyone but they See It in eachother and they care no matrer what they decide to say or not say, oh my god im gnna fucking blow up

please dont tell me ppl just swore off vashmeryl and refused to see it bc they just mentally registered it as Yet Another Forced Het Romance For No Reason please tell me people dont think meryl was just meant to be a love interest and ignored her bc of it, pls tell me ppl dont just ship her w milly bc they ship vashwood and 'well she needs to be with SOMEONE' please dont tell me people genuinely dont see vashmeryl as anything deeper than The M/F Leads Ur Meant 2 Ship please dont tell me that please please please please please please please please