#the REAL needle noggin

[ranuunculus]

STAMPEDE

[dozenssporks]

*phone camera pans over a desert area and settles on an outcropping of rocks*

wolfwood, from behind the camera: Spiky! Spiky, come over here quick!

vash, zooming out from behind the outcropping: what’s wrong, are you okay?!

wolfwood: look

*the camera moves and wolfwood’s finger is visible as he points at a roadrunner pecking at the ground nearby*

wolfwood: it you.

*camera turns back to vash. he looks confused*

vash: it wha

wolfwood: it’s got spiky hair and runs around really fast. It you.

vash: I am going to drop-kick you into a cactus, wolfwood

*camera shakes as wolfwood cackles*

*later*

*filming from a distance the camera zooms in on vash who is crouched on the ground, engaging in an intense staring contest with the roadrunner*

wolfwood, softly: meep meep

*vash and the roadrunner simultaneously look toward the camera*

*camera shakes as wolfwood chokes with laughter*

[knife-drawer-rp]

What kiss trope is destined to be in your narrative?

Vash:

The Signed With a Kiss

Every letter needs a signature, right? While simply signing their name is common, sometimes a character feels that it's not enough (or they'd rather leave their name off the letter entirely). So they decide to sign off their letter by leaving a kiss mark at the end of it, with or without their name or signature. Though this is especially prevalent with love letters (or even affair letters) given the romantic nature of the content, a kiss could be left for several reasons by several different types of characters, such as from a secret admirer or a seductress's personal signature. There's usually a romantic connection between the sender and the recipient, so these exchanges are popular between partners or love interests.

Tagged by: @splinter-sister

Tagging: @nomans-land-rp @plague-on-the-run and whoever wears fuzzy socks in winter :)

[chuthulhu-reads]

[ID: Five panels from Trigun Maximum. The first shows Wolfwood's hand held up in front of Vash's startled face, two half-coins in Wolfwood's bloody palm. "Here," Wolfwood says, the speech bubble linking the first panel and the second, which is a close-up of one of the half-coins, the other just poking into the edge of the frame. The third panel is a tired-looking, blood-covered Wolfwood saying, "Ya see... Needle-noggin'? This is who I really am." Small side-text in one of the speech bubbles explains, "One of these is from Rai-Dei." The fourth panel is Vash looking down with a grim expression, saying nothing. The last panel shows the rows of kitchen supplies in the orphanage, including the salt and sugar jars, as Wolfwood says, "there's nothin' to say. Got it?" End ID.]

Vash is not surprised here, okay? He knew, he knew, this is just the first time they're acknowledging to each other something that they haven't been talking about, that they've both been pretending not to know. And I think it's a real gutpunch that Vash never picked up Rai-Dei's coin, that it's Wolfwood who's held onto it for all this time, because it's sort of a reminder: I'm a Gung-Ho Gun, and I'm a killer, and you know this. I've killed in front of you before. (I've killed for you before.) I think Wolfwood wants those painful reminders out there, and to leave it at that, as a last-ditch attempt at sparing Vash's feelings, because there's one more thing that they're both not talking about and pretending isn't true: Wolfwood is dying, and Wolfwood is going to die soon, and there's nothing either of them can do about it. So isn't it easier to pretend something new? That they've always been enemies, and they've never been friends, and Vash isn't about to lose someone he loves again? That Wolfwood deserves this, and to prove it, here's Vash's tokens of victory?

[pinkanonwrites]

Sloppy-Style

MY WOLFWOOD/READER FIC IS HEEEERE!!! I may have had a bit too much fun writing this, but i think it’s a masterpiece so it’s more than worth it. I haven’t had anyone proofread this so if you see any typos no you didnt. <(￣︶￣)> 

Nicholas D. Wolfwood/Reader, NSFW, 4,200+ words, PLANT!Reader, alien biology, aphrodisiac, fingering, AFAB-ish Reader but no pronouns used, Vaginal sex, sweaty, sticky, messy, and affectionate, the four best things for a smut fic to be!~

NSFW BELOW THE CUT

In Wolfwood's eyes, you were a remarkably easy person to read.

Maybe it was a PLANT thing, you and Vash both seemed to wear your emotions right on your sleeve wherever you went, whoever you met. And though Nicholas wasn't a fan of that particular brand of vulnerability on himself, on you he found it to be at least somewhat refreshing. That must have been why it threw him so off-kilter when you seemed to be hiding something.

You'd been quieter than usual the past few days, and if Wolfwood were a less observant man there was a chance he wouldn't even have noticed. Sure you laughed along to Vash's antics and joined the dinnertime chatter like usual, but the spaces in between that would normally be filled with your thoughts and queries were starting to come up uncomfortably silent. You were jumpier too, that was impossible to ignore. Not just around strangers, but bumping into Meryl, Vash, Milly, even himself seemed to have you jolting away like you were going to bolt right out of your own skin.

And when your group finally arrived in the next town and you'd quietly tugged Meryl aside, asking to have your own room for the night since you weren't feeling well? He couldn't help but be a little bit curious.

So when Vash and the girls were discussing where they wanted to eat for dinner, Wolfwood waved them off, insisting that he'd meet up with them at the bar that evening. As soon as the trio were out of eye and earshot, he let himself quietly up to the door of your room.

"Ey, birdie." He gave your door a few rough taps with the backs of his knuckles. "Seriously, what's eatin' you? You've been weird all day."

"Whu-Wolfwood?"

You sounded… almost out of breath? Jiggling the brass handle a bit, he found the door to be locked too.

"Nonononono, don't come in! I'm fine, I'm fine!"

Your feet pattered unsteadily across the floor as you rushed to keep the door shut. Your shoulder thumped against the wood, and he could hear your shaky, uneven breathing beyond it. Wolfwood's frown deepened, brow furrowing at… at whatever you think you're up to right now.

"If you're sick or something I'm gonna be real pissed off!" He rattled the doorknob again and you squeaked, hands coming down to clasp it. "You may have everyone else fooled, but you're actin' weird lately. And don't think I won't blow this door down to get to the bottom of it."

Why did he care so much? This wasn't a part of his mission, his plan. All he was supposed to do was keep needle-noggin from getting his head blown off by wayward mercenaries, now here he was trying to play Mr. Fix-It for some other Independent he wasn't even aware existed until recently. He's about ready to give up and shoot the lock of your door in when he hears a strangled whimper from your side of the wood partition.

"...You alright?" He asks, the irritated edge dropping quickly off of his tone.

"...No."

"Wanna talk about it?"

You whine again, something about the tone zinging heat through Wolfwood's mind. Before he can try and question you a third time the door unlatches with a soft click, and you peer at him through the gap between it and the doorframe.

Your forehead is beaded with sweat, and you're all but panting as you clutch the front of your oversized white linen nightshirt. There's a scent in the air that hits him as soon as you open the door, nearly bowling him over. It's thick, heady- a deep earthy scent but there's almost a touch of something… sweet, to it. It's intoxicating.

"You really need to leave." You tried to insist, but your voice sounds like that's the last thing you want Wolfwood to be doing. 

"The hell's going on with you?" He pressed on, and when you try to push the door shut again his hand clutches the edge and forces it, gently but insistently, back open. You stumble back a few steps as he lets himself into the room and shuts the door. There's feathers strewn all about, like you'd exploded a down pillow, and that scent is damn near strong enough to bring him to his knees. 

"It's- It's complicated."

"Try me. I'm smarter than you think."

You wring the fabric of your nightshirt, twisting it in your hands as you shift idly back and forth. Though you struggle to make eye contact with him Wolfwood can feel your gaze raking up and down his body. For once in his life he feels distinctly not like the predator he's been made to be, but the prey beneath your steely eyes.

"I'm… blooming."

Wolfwood's lack of response is too awkward for you to just sit in, so your words stumble forward unabated.

"I thought it was just something they'd induce in the lab. Chemical injections to encourage reproduction. I didn't know it could happen outside of the tanks."

Induce in the lab.

Chemical injections.

Encourage reproduction.

Oh.

"So you're like, uh-" He was prepared for any possible outcome except, it seems, this one. "Horny?"

You groan, burying your face in both hands. When the group had discovered you, everyone had uncomfortably ignored the little green check mark in your digital files next to the line 'Approved for Breeding.' Frankly Wolfwood hadn't wanted to think about the implications, much less consider that they'd come up again in a different context. But now he's forced to accept the uncomfortable reality of the situation, though he doubted it could be more uncomfortable for himself than it must be for you.

But damn, you looked good though. Smelled good too. Was that a weird PLANT thing? Like hell if he knew, but he couldn't help from eating you up with his eyes the same way you were doing to him.

…Did you just say something to him?

"Sorry, uh, what was that?"

You huff, drawing your lower lip under your teeth and wringing the fabric ever tighter in your hands. Your incessant tugging was stretching the neckline out, exposing more and more of your sweaty, jutting collarbone and- focus, Wolfwood, focus. "So you should probably leave before things get any worse. I'll be fine in a couple days."

"A co- Sorry, a couple days? Damn, birdie." He wasn't above laying low for a couple days in a small town like this, and he was sure everyone else would enjoy the break from the chaos too. But a week straight for you? Locked in your room, whimpering, writhing, desperate…? Okay maybe it wasn't such a bad image after all. But Wolfwood hardly wanted you to torture yourself like that. "Anything you can do about it?"

"Not by myself, no." His eyebrows fly up, and only then do you realize how that sentence actually sounded. "That wasn't-! I didn't mean-!"

"Whoa whoa, hey, take it easy. Don't freak yourself out over nothin'." He means for it to be a soothing gesture when he cups your cheek, but your knees buckle like they're going to give out completely and you shudder into his touch. "...Y'know, I'm not opposed either. If you're lookin', I mean."

You don't flinch away at his words, nor do you stutter or stammer or gasp. But your cheek flushes hot under his touch and when you blink your bleary eyes open your pupils are blown so wide they eclipse the color of your iris almost completely. "Why's that?" You rumble, hands relaxing ever so slightly where they bunch the thin linen of your shirt.

"Maybe I don't like seeing a sweet little thing like you in pain, ever think of that?" His thumb traces the apple of your cheek and you breathe out a shuddering sigh. But there's still a hint of trepidation behind your gaze, something still a touch unsure.

"It's… it's a little different, down there. Not quite the same as a human."

He cracks a smarmy grin. "You got a hole?" You thump him on the chest with a flat palm and he chuckles, tapering off softly when you give him a tiny nod in response. "Then I'll figure it out. I'm pretty creative."

"You're a real perv for a holy man." You let out a small, breathless giggle, and holy man or not Wolfwood is ready to fall to his knees for you right then and there. "...Only if you can promise this won't make things weird."

"Pinkie promise."

Whatever bit of sanity you’ve been desperately clinging to in order to maintain this conversation seems to slip through your fingertips at his gentle insistence. You slump into his arms, clinging to the front of his suit jacket like a lifeline as you press your cheek into the bare valley of his chest. He leans back against the door to slot a knee between your thighs and you seat yourself like it’s second nature, hips rocking as you moan into his bare skin.

“That’s it, baby.” His hand cups the back of your head, fingers threading in your messy hair. “God, you’re aching for it, aren’t you?”

“W’lfwood,” You slur, mushed and messy, and he shudders as you lathe your tongue up the inner curve of his pectoral. “Kiss, kiss.”

“Alright, alright. I’m not goin’ anywhere.” Sliding down the back of your head, his hand cups the base of your neck as you strain to kiss him, meeting in a wet, desperate fervor. Your tongue traces the seam of his lips, coaxing him to open himself up to you as your mouths meet. You're so soft, so much softer than he deserves. His hip is bumping against the door handle every time you roll your crotch against the meat of his thigh, the sharp insistent rattling joining the wet and breathy sounds of your mouth meeting his. You whimper and groan into each kiss like it pains you to part, even for a moment, and Wolfwood can already feel the knee of his slacks soaking through with your insistent arousal.

You might just devour him whole if he lets you go on like this. He doesn't think he'd even mind it.

But he's starting to get a crick in his neck, and if he keeps rattling the doorknob like this eventually someone's gonna come a-knocking. So carefully, while disentangling himself from you as little as possible, he starts to lead you backwards towards your unmade bed. When your knees hit the edge of the mattress you take him with you, the unexpected show of force surprising but definitely not unappreciated as you drag him down onto the bed on top of you. Feathers fly as your bodies whump into the mattress, springs squeaking as he wrestles you into place beneath himself. Your mouths pull apart with a wet pop, and you whimper and lean towards him to reconnect them again even as he sits back on his knees.

"Shh, shh, don't worry, birdie." He purrs. One broad hand strokes down the curve of your belly, following the fabric of your nightshirt down to your mid thigh so he can hook two fingers underneath the hem. "I said I'd take care of you, didn't I? Well you gotta let me see what I'm working with first."

You chirp, honest to God chirp in response, chime-like and eager. Between the noises and the feathers, he's starting to think that 'birdie' nickname he chose for you was less of a fun coincidence and more some sort of divine intervention, a peek into his inevitable future. But frankly he's much more interested in the way you spread your legs for him ever further, tension pulling the hem of your nightshirt further up as you coo for his touch. He pushes it up the rest of the way for you and the fabric crumples and folds where it's bunched upon your stomach. You aren't wearing anything beneath it, and that's damn near enough to knock the wind out of him alone. But there's a thick, translucent glimmer all the way down your inner thighs, dripping from your core, and in a breathless headrush Wolfwood realizes in your arousal and desperation you'd slicked yourself all the way down to the inside of your knees. 

He finds his gaze and his hands raking up towards the apex of your thighs. You were telling the truth, it isn't exactly like a human's. But it's not too dissimilar either. Soft, pink petals fold outwards from your core like a blooming flower. They quiver as he drags his knuckles along the curve of your inner thigh, another glob of sweet-smelling fluid dripping from your hole as your breath hitches. At the top of the bloom he finds a swollen bud, standing to attention like it can't wait to receive his touch. Your clit, maybe? Or whatever the equivalent is. Either way, it's the perfect size for him to smooth under the calloused pad of his thumb, and when he does you let out a punched-out sob, stomach tensing as you curl towards his exploratory hand.

"Fuck… Aren't you a pretty sight? Trust me baby, you've got nothing to worry about." It's not nearly enough, but Wolfwood's never been good with words. He knows that you aren't human but right now? Right now you're ethereal. Hair encircling your head in a soft halo, surrounded by little drifting feathers, glistening with sweat and slick? And your eyes? God, your eyes…

"Wolfwood!" You're reaching for his lapels again, tugging weakly at the fabric to urge him to do something, anything. "Nicholas!"

"Deep breaths, I'm not goin' anywhere." He slid two fingers up through your folds, skirting around the edges of your hole. The mewl you let out crawls down the length of his spine and curls hot and needy in his gut; He's going to need to take his own deep breaths if he wants to not bust the second he gets inside you. "Here, just like this, birdie. That's it." He shuffles himself between your legs, pulling until you wrap them both around his hips and you're spread impossibly further open for him. "Fingers first, okay?"

"Nick.~" You're practically sobbing, but you nod in agreement despite yourself. A thick middle finger prods at your entrance, petals fluttering and shivering as your body opens up to him, sucking him in up to the second knuckle with hardly more than a slow, insistent press. The intrusion does little to quell the flame roaring in your lower stomach, only further stoking your desire as your pussy twitches and drools around the intruding digit. He gives it a slow, patient thrust, crooking it upwards towards your belly as he does and causing more warm slick to dribble out into his palm.

"Fuck, you're so wet. Leaking all over my hand and I haven't even gotten a second finger in yet." He can't help but tease you, even though he thinks you may already be too far gone to register it. Your body opens up to him so easily, hips rabbiting as he pinches your clit between the thumb and forefinger of his other hand, pulling back to press a second finger into you alongside the first. There's a little more resistance, but with how wet you are for him it isn't long before he's working them into you in a rhythmic pulse, slick squelching and spattering into his hand with each thrust. "You gotta cum for me first, alright? Then I'll fuck you just like you need it. You wanna cum for me, sweet thing?"

"Yes, yes!" Your hands scrabble wildly for the front of his shirt, nails raking down his bare chest as you tug him to meet you. You mash your mouth against his own, slick with spit and moaning into his as your teeth click harshly against each other's. "Mmfh, Wolfwood, Nick. Wanna cum, wanna cum please!"

"I'm not stopping you, birdie.~" He fights a smirk, crooking his fingers to grind the calloused tips against your soft, spongy walls. “Let go for me.”

But as much as he wants to watch your expressions as you tip over the edge for him, he's caught off-guard by a rough shredding noise as your back goes concave, wings bursting straight through the fabric of your nightshirt beneath you as you gasp and pulse around his fingers. Feathers explode into the still air as you writhe and gush and sob for him.

"Nick, Nick!" Scrabbling hands grip at his wrist but he keeps his fingers moving, massaging your shivering walls until the tension finally seems to melt from your body and you slump pathetically back onto the mattress with a final gush of slick warmth. "Nick, Nico…" You're so far gone for him, and it's too damn cute.

"So that's where all the feathers came from. Fancy that."

"Mmmrh… Ruined my shirt…" You grumble, whining again when he slowly pulls his fingers from your blooming core.

"Want me to buy you a new one? Just don't pick anything too pricey, we're still on a budget here." He pats the inside of your inner thigh in a manner that's supposed to be playfully patronizing, but the gentle jerk of your hips toward his touch just pulls another wry grin to his face. "Whoa there, darlin'."

You swat weakly at his hand, but there's no real malice behind it, not really. "Wha' am I, a Tomas?"

"Based on how hard you were riding my fingers, maybe I'm the Tomas- hey!" He's laughing as you swat at him again, leaning in to kiss the smile off your face. "Little brat.~ Maybe you don't need my help after all?"

"Nononono, don't go! Nico, please?" It's not like he's planning on going anywhere, not with your heels snug in the small of his back and your hands rumpling his unbuttoned shirt, but he lets you tug him back in as you nuzzle at his sweat-sticky collarbone with your nose. "Nick, you said you'd help…" Your wings strain to curl around him as well, cradling his body and yours with the massive feathery appendages as you pepper kisses down his neck. The shredded remains of your shirt slip from your chest as you arch towards him, and he quickly bundles it into a single fist and tosses it aside.

"Then maybe you better be good for me, hm? If you want me to take care of you."

"I do, 'm sorry. Please take care of me, Nick."

You sound so genuine, even more so than usual, and despite it just being some playful teasing he almost feels the slightest bit guilty. A warm kiss brushes your temple as he finishes unbuttoning his shirt, shucking it and the jacket off in one smooth motion to crumple somewhere onto the floor. 

"Don't worry birdie, you've got me. I told you, I'm not going anywhere."

You chirp for him again, arms encircling his neck as your fingers tangle in his shaggy black hair. Wolfwood’s hands fumble blindly with the button of his slacks, lips trailing the curve of your neck as he wrestles the waistband down, taking his boxers with it. Unrestrained, his cock springs free, dark and flushed and beading pre-cum at the tip. There’s a soft, wet slap as he taps it against your sticky cunt, grinding your clit down beneath his swollen head until you’re practically shivering with need, fingers twisting hard into his hair as you struggle to breathe steadily. He lets it slide once, twice over your dripping hole before you choke out another sob of his name and he finally relents, pressing until the head pops slickly into your waiting core.

“Nick…” Your content little coo and the full body shiver you give him in response is like an adrenaline shot directly to his ego. He feels like his head is full of cotton, thick and fuzzy and warm and it’s taking every little bit of clarity he’s able to grasp onto to not bust with just the tip of his cock inside your impossible heat. You’re certainly not helping, hips jumping to desperately take in more of him, fingernails just barely prickling at the base of his neck. He breathes out slowly through his nose, shaky, steadying, before pressing on. Inch by careful inch he slides into you, murmuring mindless soft nothings all the while (for both your sake and his sanity’s) until he can feel his hips bump gently against your own. Only then does he risk letting himself slip the slightest bit, grinding hard into you as his head massages a soft, spongy spot deep within your core. Fuck, he feels like he can feel your heartbeat in your pussy…

You murmur something again, it’s most likely his name, or another plea, but Nicholas is starting to lose his own carefully-cradled sanity himself. He draws back slowly, so slowly, your vice-like heat begging him not to leave, before snapping his hips forward in a sharp, punishing roll. The reaction is all he could have possibly wanted and more; You wail, your wings shiver, trails of fire rake down the expanse of his back where your fingernails dig in. 

He’s already dreading his own quick healing process, as any marks from you he’d gladly wear forever.

It doesn’t take him long to find a rhythm, one that trickles molten heat down the length of his spine and leaves you all but screaming his name. One of his hands cradles your hip as the other grasps blindly at the edge of the headboard, wood thunking heavily against plastered wood as it slams against the hotel room wall with each thrust. His lips, his teeth, his tongue, they find the curve of your jawbone in an equally messy display, scraping along soft skin and kissing away the sweat that beads there as the two of you sink together deeper into euphoria. The air smells of sweat and sex and cigarette smoke and fresh flora, and though Wolfwood knows at this point he’ll never get into heaven, never step one foot past those fabled pearly gates, this has to be the closest damn thing to it he’ll ever see in his lifetime.

“Touch yourself for me.” He growls, breath hot against your neck. “Wanna feel you cum on my cock, sweet thing.”

You sob again, sweaty hand wriggling between your pressed-together bodies to fondle your oversensitive clit. It’s hardly more than a barely-there brush before you’re cumming again, slick gushing around the point where your bodies meet as you somehow squeeze so impossibly tighter around him. He means to last longer, wants to last longer, but your body and your voice and the oh so gentle kiss you place upon his scruffy cheek as your wings come up to enfold him like he’s something to be revered, something to be cherished… 

“Fuck.”

He chokes out a curse as he spills into you, a slurry of hot cum and slick pooling low in your gut as his hips stutter, his breath goes ragged. Each unsteady jolt of his hips shoots off fireworks behind your eyelids, his thumb digging into the jut of your hip bone as he pants into the crook of your neck. You meet in another kiss, languid and open-mouthed and messy as his movements finally slow to a stop. When he pulls away again there’s a shimmering trail of saliva still connecting your mouth to his, and he tongues it off of his lower lip with an all-too-pleased smirk. 

“Feelin’ better yet, birdie?”

You nod and let out a soft, approving hum. Though something deep inside you still yearns as he carefully pulls out, soft cock slipping free to release a deluge of slick fluid between your legs. Luckily Nicholas doesn’t seem inclined to go much further than that, settling his chin into the valley of your chest with a content huff as your fingers find his hair once more. There’s less tugging this time though, and far more petting.

“Mmmh, you could put a guy to sleep like that if you aren’t careful. I still gotta clean you up, don’t I?”

“What a gentleman.~” You tease, drawing an amused snort from Nick’s lips.

“What can I say? I live to serve.” For once he truly lets himself relax, melting into your gentle touch and your warm, soft body beneath his own. “Fuck, I’m not even craving a smoke right now. You’re really something, you know that?”

“Want me to help you kick the habit?”

“You really want me to bend you over and fuck you sloppy-style every time I’m craving a hit?”

“Nick!” The snort you’d drawn from him earlier blossoms into full-chested laughter at your scandalized tone. You thump him on the shoulder with an open palm, a scolding little slap.

“Ahh, you’re no fun!” He chuckles, playful fingers pinching the fat of your outer thigh. “Alright then, let’s split a shower and hit the hay instead. I’m beat. How long’s this ‘blooming’ thing supposed to last when you’ve got someone to roll around with, anyway?”

“Not too long, another day at most. But don’t be mad if I wake you up in the middle of the night looking for some attention. You signed up for this, after all.”

“Darlin’, you can have my attention whenever you want.~”

[bugtastic]

To reach you is a dream of man.

Nicolas D. Wolfwood x gn!reader.

tags: fluff, small bits of angst if you squint

warnings: a bit suggestive with the kissing, wolfwood is a bit jealous of vash, alcohol consumption

summary: wolfwood LONGS for you and sulks but he gets all the kisses and hugs he deserves

word count: i have no idea. it's long tho so have a drink beside you i'll take you on a ride with this one.

like and reblog if u want! notes are at the end of the fic! enjoy :)

-

He couldn't take his eyes off you.

Smiling at the Humanoid Typhoon, you laughed with him. Him. That stupid Needle Noggin'. Wolfwood's head was on the counter of the bar holding his drink like it would run away the moment he released his death grip on the glass. The bartender noticed his sour mood, but that's nothing new to them. Every once in a while, a depressed patreon comes in and drowns themselves in their sorrow, thinking alcohol would help them. Wolfwood was no different right now. He knows for sure Roberto noticed his longing gaze on you as you warped a hand around Vash's shoulder, laughing cheerfully, and the blond brought his drink next to yours, making a *clank* sound.

Vash just seemed to make you smile so easily. Why couldn't he be the only one to make you smile? Well… he does. Wolfwood's eyes have a spark in them, remembering the time he made you laugh. Oh, how he would love to hear that sound again.

Your laugh was precious.

One night, Wolfwood smoked up a storm, as usual. Sitting down in the sand and lighting a cigarette, he saw a figure sit down next to him. He knew it was you. He could never mistake you for someone else. Your aura had something special that instantly calmed the raging demons inside of him. He didn't turn to you, only looking ahead of him. Everyone was asleep. Meryl was asleep in the truck with Roberto, and Vash was on top of the truck snoring loudly.

Why didn't you just go to sleep?

Why must you bother him with your presence?

The moment you're close to him, he wants to hold you close to him.

Cage his arms around you, bury his nose in your hair as your smell envelopes his entire being.

He had to restrain himself. He just quietly enjoyed your presence. This was enough for him.

You stared at him and Wolfwood felt like one of his strings was just about ready to break and he would have kissed you right then and there, but he stubbornly held himself back. You moved closer to him and spoke.

„Wolfwood, why are you always awake so late at night?“ You questioned. Oh, how he loved the gentle way your voice would sound when you called out his name. His heart clenched. How he wished to hear you say his real name, Nicholas. His heart clenched tighter in his chest.

„Can't sleep. What about you though, Stardust? You're always out like a light the moment the moons appear in the sky.“ You chuckled quietly. Wolfwood felt his pride grow at your chuckle. He was the one who made you do that, not him. Not that outlaw.

You looked at the sky and laid down from your sitting position. You stared at the moons glowing brightly in the sky. „I just… can't sleep. Too many thoughts I guess. I thought that all that running we did today to protect Vash would leave me glued to my sleeping bag. But I guess not, my brain decided otherwise instead!“ You yelled that last part a bit loudly. Your hands flew to your mouth and you looked around alarmingly, hoping that your sudden outburst didn’t wake anyone up - thankfully, it didn’t. 

Wolfwood chuckled deeply at your worry for the others. God, you could be so adorable, he thought as he finally turned around to look at you. What he saw was something he never saw you do before in his presence. Your face flushed, a beautiful red hue coloured over your cheeks, gentle eyes wide with what seemed to be joy and something else, your fingers barely brushing over your plump pink lips.

„Sorry, I didn't mean to be loud there.“ You chuckled nervously, quickly burying your face in your hands. No, why are you apologizing? You just gave him the most beautiful image he would keep for eternity in his mind. In that moment, he would replay that image of your flushed face over and over and over again. Oh, how he wished to take your hands away from your face and gaze at your beautiful features. In private, he noticed you didn’t like looking at yourself in mirrors. When he asked about it, you gave a small and quick answer with a small smile, saying that you didn’t really like the way you looked though he needn’t worry about it. 

But he thought differently. The moment he saw you he thought that God himself had sent you to soothe him, to forgive him of all the sins he's committed. You were so beautiful to him. You were gorgeous, pretty, breathtaking, amazing, and all the words he couldn’t think of in that moment that could possibly describe your beauty. To reach out to you, to hold you steady in his arms, an angel sent to No Man's Land, would be a dream come true. 

He stayed calm and collected, dragging his cigarette and puffing out a cloud of smoke. „No matter. You don't need to say sorry. Tell me, child, what sinful thoughts are running through your mind?“ Wolfwood teased. You shoot up from your lying position immediately, and your face flushed again at his statement before snorting. Every time you snorted, you put a hand on your mouth, stifling it as much as you could. „You shouldn't hide your laugh like that, Stardust.“ He said as he grinned wildly, enjoying this rare moment of you two being alone together.

„Hey-„ You started but quickly stopped as you saw Vash stir in his sleep on top of the truck. You lowered your voice as you started poking the priest on his shoulder. „You can't just say stuff like that! Also, I would never confess anything to you. You're a lousy priest, after all. Carrying a cross around that's actually a machine- actually laser- whatever gun- it's not holy even in the slightest!"

You started poking him more on purpose to annoy him. "Does." *poke* "Not." *poke* "Count." *poke* "To." *poke* "Being." *poke* "A." *poke* "Priest." *poke*

Wolfwood laughed deeply. You stopped poking him, and as you were about to ask what was so funny, you felt his hand grab yours and pull you towards him. You squealed softly, feeling your cascade over him. You closed your eyes as you felt your cheek hit something hard. As you opened your eyes, you saw that you were on his chest and Wolfwood was lying down in the sand. You held yourself up on your elbows as you were about to scold Wolfwood for laying in the sand. His clothes will get dirty! But then again, you were laying on the sand a minute ago as well…

As you were about to say something you saw something in his eyes. A sparkle? A trick of the light? A small, fragmented glow that you could have easily missed if you never challenged yourself to stare into his eyes. His dark eyes stared right back at you. Minutes felt like hours, and the two of you wished this very moment would last forever.

Wolfwood stared at you longingly, adoringly. He was so close to you, your bodies touching and molding perfectly, as though you were made for each other, and he wanted nothing more than to caress your cheek and close the distance between the two of you. 

God, your lips never looked so inviting before. He could feel his inner demons taunt him in the back of his mind, telling him to give in to his selfish desires. To keep you close to him forever and never let go. 

Ah-

You seem to snap back to reality. You smile at him, flashing that gorgeous smile which causes his heart to ache painfully with longing and he feels a sense of pride warm his chest. Only he got to see that delicate smile of yours. Only he knows the worth of that dazzling smile.

„I'll confess to you. Not my sins, but my thoughts, if you are willing to listen, Father.“ That last word was supposed to come off as a tease but your gentle tone and smile failed to give it any teasing remark. You noticed that Wolfwood didn't have his signature sunglasses on. You never realised he took them off to begin with. He didn’t even have a cigarette trapped between his lips. Where did his last bud go? You feel exposed like this. You take a deep breath and stare at Wolfwood's awe-struck expression. He blinks up at you, watching as you adjusted your position so you were now straddling his hips, his hands unknowingly pressing into your thighs and holding onto them.

He had to suppress a groan of satisfaction at the sudden contact and he chose to ignore it - for now.

He grins up at you. You giggle at his expression. 

„I'm all ears, Stardust.“ He said softly, encouragingly. You start speaking about something, something about your day, the fears you encountered today, fears from the past. But he couldn't hear you, your words falling deaf to his ears. He could only admire your features as you spoke. Your eyes, nose, cheeks, eyebrows, lips - he's so hyper focused on everything that is you right now. You, atop of him under the night sky, the shining glow of the moons, painting you like a portrait in his eyes. Oh, how he wishes he had a camera on him right now, just so he could save the image of what he saw. You, under the night sky above him, confessing all your fears to him. Not just to any priest, but to him, to Nicholas.

A sharp sound of glass hitting the counter breaks his reminiscing. He groans as he sees Roberto staring down at him with squinted, blood-shot eyes.

„What do you want, Scruffy?“ Wolfwood manages to blurt out in his drunken state. Meryl appears from behind Roberto, looking at Wolfwood. She feels pity for him. Her and Roberto - even in their tipsy state - could clearly see Wolfwood’s look of longing as he stared at you. 'It's pathetic!', Meryl said to Robreto. If he can tease and bicker with her all the time, not sparing her of any harsh words he spews out at her, he should be able to tell you how he feels with just as much ease. And anyone with a pair of eyes can tell he feels strongly about you. 

Meryl noticed the way his demeanor sparks up like a firecracker when you talk with him. She also noticed how he never seems to tease you as harshly as he does her. When you back her up though, he seems to tone it down a notch as you tease him back and then you both start throwing playful, teasing insults at one another. Those moments are what make Wolfwood smile when he thinks no one else realises. A genuine smile from Wolfwood, Meryl noted. Looks like you're the only one that can wipe that shit-eating grin off his face. You poke your tongue out and make funny faces at him as Meryl hides behind your back. The moment you turn around though, taking Meryl with you, she turns around and pokes her tongue out at the Undertaker as he quietly growls back at her as Vash tries to calm him down by patting his shoulder lightly. 

Back to the present, Meryl looks at you and Vash speaking together about a random topic she didn’t have much of an interest in joining in. She was too tired to deal with you and Vash and your drunken bullshit. But she's also tired of Wolfwood's bullshit. She swipes the undertaker's drink from his hand as he tries to reach back for it only for him to slump back down to the counter.

God that's a depressing sight.

She pulls Wolfwood back up with her hands gripping his shoulders. He simply stares back at her, a sour expression on his red cheeked face and a heated glare which sent daggers straight into Meryl’s soul.

Some kind of priest, huh?

„You HAVE to talk to her! Call her up to your room and talk. Do you have any idea how depressing and creepy it is to watch you stare at (Y/N) for almost 2 hours now? Big guy handling a machine gun almost double his size but can't handle telling his true feelings towards someone? How pathetic.“ Meryl exclaimed dramatically, flailing her hands around as she spoke. 

Hearing her words awakened something deep in Wolfwood. It felt like anger, but it was far more primal than that. Anger which he had never realised he felt before - until he watched you laugh joyfully with Needle Noggin’ of all people. 

„I'll show you ‘pathetic’ little lady. I'll SHOW you.“ He stood up from his chair and walked over to where you and Vash were sitting. He stares at you and Vash as you both don't notice him at all, too caught up in your conversation.

Oh , how he wishes he could just blow out the blond’s brain with the Punisher.

He clears his throat as you and Vash try to find where the sound came from. Yours and Vash’s attention are now on Wolfwood, and you smile brightly at him.

You were drunk. From the way you swayed back and forth even when firmly sat on the stool to the hazed look of joy and drunken stupor in your eyes. It took you a moment to realise that it was Wolfwood, but when you did, your heart immediately sparked with a joy that clearly formed in your eyes.

„WOLFWOOD! Join us~ me and Vash were just talking about you hehehe~“ You and the blond giggle at each other as Wolfwood stares blankly at the two of you, his brow arching slightly.

„Yeahhhh! Come have some fun! You always have a frown imprinted on your face, I bet (Y/N) could help replace it with a smileee~! Your smiles are JUST the best hahaha~.“ Vash says as you hit him playfully on the shoulder telling him ‘staaawppp it Vashhh'.

Wolfwood thinks he might hurl the sight of you two.

He shakes his head as he remembers the reason why he's here. „You're coming with me, Stardust, we need to talk.“ He takes your hand causing you to whine and wave back at Vash, who was simply far too drunk to even stop you from being kidnapped. 

Wolfwood drags you through the bar and through the hallways of the hotel you're all staying at. You stare up at him thinking what the hell has gotten into him, though you did not make a move to stop him even as his grip tightened around your wrist, causing you to hiss in pain.

He stopped immediately, eyes widening slightly at the realisation that he was hurting you. How could he treat you like this when he was just worshipping you in his head a minute ago?

Wolfwood loosens his grip but never lets go, the warmth of his hand sending shivers up your arm and spine. You both walk together in comfortable silence as he takes you to his room, a whirlwind of emotions spinning through both of your minds. 

He briefly lets go of your wrist to unlock the door to his room, and you rub your hand unconsciously, missing the warmth that was there moments ago. 

When he finally manages to unlock the door, it swings open and he holds it for you, gesturing for you to enter first like a true gentleman. You chuckled. 

It was a rather small room, but neither of you had the right to complain. Having a bed and a roof over your head was better than slumbering in the back of some car in the middle of the desert. The quiet priest walks past you as you make your way to his bed, taking a seat on the very edge as he turns the lamp on to illuminate the darkened room. 

You patiently wait, watching curiously as he removes his sunglasses from his face and takes off his jacket. You felt your cheeks warm at the sight - seeing him so exposed yet still perfectly covered. It felt like home, in a way. You felt the bed dip slightly as he sat right next to you, leaving only a small distance between the two of you. His head hung low and he stared at the floor, unsure of what to say.

There was a moment of silence, which was cut abruptly by the sound of his soft, hesitant voice.

„Stardust, remember the night when you confessed your fears to me?“ You nod, and he continues. „That night I think I finally realised I couldn't take my damn hands off you. I craved your presence. I hogged all of your attention that night and I was drunk on it. I was… drunk on you in general.“ He laughed deeply as you felt your cheeks warm up. „Every time darn time that Needle Noggin’ is with you, I want to tear his head off with my bare hands. You give so much to him and he makes you smile so easily and I wish… I wish I could make you smile the same way he does and I-„ He stops himself abruptly, his hands clenching together.

Wolfwood dared to look up at you, to see your reaction to his words and he swore his heart skipped a beat then and there. You smiled at him, so serenely, so beautiful.  A smile, he confesses, he has only ever seen once before. The same smile he saw on that night. He suddenly felt too embarrassed to continue. 

He stared at the floor for what felt like long, agonising minutes until he felt something soft and gentle touch his cheek. Wolfwood looked over at you.

Your hand.

Your hand was touching him, of your own free will. 

You scooted closer to him. He felt your hips and legs touch his and he felt a shiver go through him. God, he craved you so much that it was absolute torture to not just take you in his arms right then and there. He felt like he was going to fall apart just from your touch.

But he waited. Patiently. He waited until he was certain that this was not some sick dream he was having. He needed to know that it wasn’t just his mind playing a cruel trick on him.

You could feel his scent - the smell of burnt ash and whiskey. You leaned forward, pressing your forehead against his. His breath hitched in his throat when you began to speak. „I love you, Wolfwood. I have for a very long time now, actually. Ever since I met you with the crew.“

The Undertaker raised his hand over your own that rested on cheek, his warm palm shooting sparks up your arm.

He could stay like this forever.

„Don't you… Don’t you like Needle Noggin?“ Wolfwood questioned. 

You pulled back, creating space between the two of you as you stared at him with wide eyes. Then, much to his shock, you burst into a fit of laughter, causing Wolfwood to deadpan at your reaction and for you to apologise in between chuckles.

„Vash and I? No! We're just travel companions. We have known each other for a long time but we have more of a sibling relationship. Nothing romantic.“ You explain.

For the first time that night, Wolfwood exhaled a deep breath of relief that he did not realise he was holding. You chuckled at his reaction. 

A moment of comfortable silence slipped between the two of you as you shared this tender moment. Sparks of adoration and longing tantalised your fingers and heart strings and a primal look formed in Wolfwood’s dark eyes, a look which only you could create. 

He wanted more. Something inside him is telling him to just go for it.

Take your chance, Nicolas.

It's now or never.

Without even realising it, Wolfwood managed to wrap his arm around your waist and hoist you onto his lap in one swift, fluid motion, which made you silently scream.

Your face was crimson red as you stared at him with wide eyes. Oh, how he simply loved that look on your face - a look which was caused by only him and no one else. And for that, he felt smug.

„Wh- Wha-” You started and Wolfwood hushed you gently, brushing away strands of loose hair behind your ear as he brought you closer, so close that you could feel his hot breath against your lips. 

„What are you doing…?“ You asked quietly, your soft voice nearly going unheard.

Wolfwood was a greedy man. He knew that from the very beginning. But with you? ‘Greedy’ wasn’t even the right word to describe what he felt for you. 

„I have something to confess to you, Stardust.“ His intense gaze flickered between your lips and sparkling eyes. You moved forward as if on pure instinct, more than prepared to close the gap between you. 

He could no longer wait. Not now. Not ever. Not when the demons on his shoulder told him to take every part of you. 

And that is exactly what he planned on doing.

He moved his hand to the back of your neck and gently brought his lips onto yours. 

Desperation was sharp on his lips. His hand wandered from your neck to your hair, fingers brushing through soft strands while his other hand held your shaking form in place. 

He grew cocky, biting your lower lip gently, slipping his tongue through the folds when you gasped softly against him. He smiled triumphantly into the kiss, pulling you even closer with a hand pressed to the small of your back. 

You could taste the longing on his tongue, the need and want, as you both fought for domination, though the winner was clear from the very beginning. Your presence alone could only satiate a small part of his hunger for you. He wanted - no, he needed - more of you. 

Every single part of you was enticing, inviting him in as your hands roamed his clothed chest and arms, the butterflies in your stomach fluttering around madly. You wanted this too, for so long.

It was so hard to believe any of this was real. But it was. And the marks will remain there long after you both are done.

You both pulled away from one another to catch your breaths, your foreheads pressed together, and the tips of your noses touching. Wolfwood chuckles breathlessly, holding you close. „I haven't even confessed yet, my angel."

You look up at him with half-lidded eyes, lips twitching upward into a smile. „Didn't you basically show how you felt?“ You pointed out, laughing softly.

Wolfwood shakes his head, inhaling your scent deeply as he cups your warm cheeks in the palm of his hands. He looks up at you with glossy eyes filled with hope, with love. Gorgeous, sparkling black eyes which now possessed a light in them. 

„I love you. I love you so much (Y/N).“ He kisses you again. „The number of times I thought about you have been endless. Every waking moment, I think about you. Even in my own dreams, I can only think of you.“ 

This time, you pull him by the collar of his shirt, and you plant your lips firmly against his. Tears sting the back of your eyes, and you can feel them fall slowly, steadily, which Wolfwood wipes away with his thumb tenderly.

Even out of pure joy, he did not wish to see you cry.

„I love you too, Nicholas. I love you so much Nico. I love you, I love you!“ You cheerfully chant, his name rolling off your tongue perfectly. You couldn't stop the words from falling out like a waterfall.

You do love him afterall.

Wolfwood wrapped his strong arms around you and pulled you down onto the bed with him. He buries his face into your hair and kisses the top of your head lovingly. You nuzzle your face into his chest, the rapid beating of his heart and his scent lulling you to sleep. 

He holds you tighter, your words repeating in his head and he could not help but smile.

I love you. I love you. I love you. 

A man, a sinner like him, should not be so fortunate. He has killed many, committed many sins whether they be the work of God or not. But, even so, a kind-hearted and gentle person like you could look past all of his fatal flaws and love him so dearly.

If this is the work of demons, then damn, so be it. He would spend an eternity in primordial flame if it meant that he could always hold you as close as he was holding you now.

He, Nicholas, fell asleep with you wrapped protectively in his arms, smiling. 

He finally heard your voice call out his name.

-

notes:

thank you for reading this long ass fic. this is the first piece i actually wrote for trigun. i remember being so frustrated that there are no wolfwood fics and i just exploded. And wrote this. i hope you enjoyed it!

also, also, my asks are open so feel free to talk to me!

[mydetheturk]

your requested reminder to post knives going nuclear on zazie when you can :)

ok so im going to be reblogging this to the body horrors week later cause. uh. well. knives. quite literally goes nuclear?

all of these screenshots are from the overhaul project cause i haven't managed to catch the dark horse digital editions on sale yet, though i'll provide the dark horse translations where i can because i have physical copies, and the dark horse translations are imo clearer here.

there are ids in all the alt texts for the photos, it's why this took several days longer than i'd originally planned -finger guns- alt texts might look a little weird in the first set btw - tumblr started eating the photoset and i had to spend an extra half an hour fixing it -finger guns-

the pages are volume 11, pages 90-92, and 114-17, because a lot of the pages in between are leadup pages and also have the zazie control worm. thing.

pages 90-2 are the distant explosion (you can click on the first image and see it in the photo viewer, if for some reason it will not view in dashboard mode. But it does exist!)

(on page 90, dark horse is a lot more specific, with "the northeast sky is glowing" instead of "the whole sky is glowing". the other two boxes with text read "what is--?!" and "oh my..!" respectfully as if they were cut off mid sentence.)

so uh.

knives went uh.

literal "nuclear bomb exploded just above a town"

because he kind of did. Unlike a true nuclear bomb, he did not form a mushroom cloud, but the metaphor is still there. that is a nuclear metaphor

per pages 114-117 (pages are from left to right, read the pages right to left. sorry)

(legato's speech bubbles on page 114 in the dark horse edition read: Survival of the fittest is the law of nature. What is about to happen now is a just a logical extension of that. Be very afraid. You are in his presence. Did you not notice, Leader of the Sand Worms?

It reads very differently, imo, more like Zazie was caught up in their own plots and schemes to realize the control worm didn't work. Legato is also telling Zazie that Zazie should be afraid of Knives. Okay? Not asking if Zazie is afraid. Telling Zazie to be afraid. Like some sort of reverse "Be Not Afraid" from the bible.

Zazie's thought bubbles on page 115 are translated as "the dark hole is swallowing the poison" which reads more like knives made a black hole. given the visuals? that sounds more likely. Black holes, as a real life thing that we know about and have tried to study, are often referred to as swallowing things that pass too close. knives made a mini black hole to eat the poison from the sand worm venom. knives has consumed the dependent plants.)

the fact is, as a metatextual read, plants are nuclear reactors. independent plants are walking nuclear bombs. Nightow did this on purpose. We're meant to read them as something nuclear.

This is, as i was saying to @needle-noggins the other night when i was working on it in an attempt to get more of the alt texts written, a casual display of power. Knives is throwing a hissy fit! Knives is throwing a multi-megaton display of power because Zazie tried to take him over with the control worm. Page 91 had needle-noggins and i speechless because on the low end that tower of debris from the explosion is (if we did the very, very rough math right) THIRTY MILES TALL. Twice as tall as the tallest mountain in the solar system, Olympus Mons! or roughly five and a half times as tall as Mount Everest. On the outside, because we figured its anywhere from 25-30 times taller than the cloud cover, it could be up to thirty seven miles

Over halfway to space on earth.

like.

I know we love the independent plants and all. But Holy Shit. just.

holy shit

[anyasathenaeum]

Headcanons of Wolfwood trying to process the person he has a crush on just. Lifting the Punisher one handed? Or lifting him one handed by the back of the collar like he's a misbehaving kitten.

A/N: WAIT I LOVE THIS, Wolfwood would absolutely be SHOOKETH, I added in headcanons of Wolfwood realizing he has a crush on you as a bonus

Wolfwood developing a crush was definitely something he didn't anticipate at all, it wasn't on his bingo card

And for his crush to be somebody who could probably kick his ass? Wolfwood DEFINITELY didn't see that coming

Wolfwood's a sucker for strong individuals, it doesn't matter in what way - physically, mentally, emotionally, strength of mind, of character or resolve, he'd be a sucker for you the moment you show strength in any way

Like watching you lift the Punisher like it weighs nothing? He's speechless - how do you even do that?

You're stronger than he ever expected you to be and his heart is doing weird stuff in his chest for an hour after witnessing that, and any time he remembers that, his heart does a weird fluttering thing

Having you literally pull Wolfwood and lift him by the scruff of his neck when he's fighting with Vash or about to get shot at? Man finds it incredible and his jaw is dropping open as you set him down

Will (reluctantly and gruffly) thank you for keeping him out of trouble, the smallest blush present on the bridge of his nose and the tips of his ears

"U-Um... thanks, (Y/N). Dunno I needed you there but... thanks for looking out for me."

You banter with him and snap back at him when he teases you, matching his energy and standing your ground? Wolfwood is literal seconds away from buying a ring right there and begging you to marry him

He would just be in straight awe of you, but he tries his best to hide it so people don't think he's getting soft

His best isn't enough, though

Man is not as slick as he thinks he is, and is definitely caught staring at you by Vash, Meryl, Milly and Roberto (and literally every other person who witnesses the two of you)

Will vehemently deny that he's staring at you or doing anything that could possibly indicate he likes you in any way more than as a friend or finds you incredible

"Don't be stupid, Needle-Noggin'! I just zoned out, that's all! Don't think you're clever!"

But over time, as Wolfwood spends more time with you, getting to know you and see you in action as you keep him safe or banter with him and tease him, he starts to realize that he's got feelings for you

Wolfwood begins to understand that the overwhelming warmth in his chest that he feels when he sees that you're safe after an altercation, or the jitteriness he feels when he accidentally brushes against you isn't a normal thing

Wolfwood eventually has to come to terms with the fact that he may or may not potentially have a teeny tiny itty bitty crush on you

It's actually a massive crush and he's already in love with you let's be real he just is too proud and kinda scared to admit it

I can literally imagine Wolfwood having a drink at a saloon when he comes to the sudden realization that he's got a crush on you, especially after hearing your laugh and realizing how happy it makes him to hear you laughing

Man immediately chokes on his drink seconds afterwards and ends up sounding like he's coughing up a lung

Now that he realizes he's got a crush on you, he's unsure what to do about it and I can picture him trying to be smug and confident but he actually comes across a bumbling mess

Tries to lean up on the Punisher only for him to fall straight over, but thankfully you catch both him and the Punisher before they hit the sand

Man has literal heart eyes when you set him upright and brush him off, checking if he's alright and looking at him with concern

Bottom line - Wolfwood's in love and he's a simp for you but doesn't know how to handle it

[tomatoswup]

when

summary: the when's and development of your feelings for a certain typhoon.

warnings: angst? more bittersweet really

A/N: honestly, this was a quick drabble after finishing notes for class :D since it was just a quick idea, i didn't really develop into a whole backstory and stuff without getting ahead of myself lmao but angst? yes(my first attempt) also was listening to tame impala's "For the First Time" as I wrote this so that kinda explains alot, enjoy!

When you first started gaining feelings for Vash, it was a night filled with thought and contemplation from your own head. Was this right? He was your best friend for god sake! No, you can't like him. It's not that you didn't want to, you couldn't. Your mind told you to hold back, to stop whatever was developing in you about the typhoon. And as much as you didn't want to accept it, you were in denial. The pair of you have traveled together for so long but you never got tired of the mischievous glint in his eyes, and the toothy smile he would shoot at you. You found it..cute.

In your own words, Vash was too considerate for a world that put their back to him, and you found it admirable.

You clenched the jacket you wore tightly as the snores of your caravan filled the night behind a large rock you sat behind. Maybe you needed the priest to pray for you...

When you started accepting your feelings for him, it felt as if your stomach constantly hurt every time you'd stand too near to him. And honestly, Vash had been the first crush you've had in a real long time and that flustered you a bit more. Whenever he'd put his hands on your shoulders, the familiar sensation of electricity ran up your back to which he'd curiously ask why your face had flushed red. Were you sick? He recommended a day off from working around with Wolfwood. Of course he did. when he walked away, you couldn't help but quickly cover your face with your hands.

When you noticed the difference, it kind of...hurt. The fact that he had become more affectionate with Meryl, seeking to find her side and accompany her more than he had with you. Was that a hand-hold? You felt a minor tinge in your heart. But that was okay! You guys were still best friends! Why were you feeling some type of way about it? You should be supporting him! You try to shrug the thought off and continue walking behind them as that little toothy smile you loved and had thought was reserved for just you, was given to another. You smiled on to the both of them, ignoring the growing ache in your chest.

When Wolfwood finally noticed the change in your behavior whenever you gazed at the pair, you had already fallen deep into the heavy pressure that resided in your heart. You didn't want to stop Vash from going after Meryl. What kind of person would you be if you did? Wolfwood confronts you as you had temporarily stepped away one night as everyone took camp in the dry deserts of No Man's Land. And as the more questions Wolfwood asked you, the more your throat felt as if it wanted to burn. And it wasn't until he asked a singular question, that you broke. You sobbed as the ache in your chest got unbearable and so heavy your stomach dropped to the floor and the familiar feeling of wanting to throw up arose. Wolfwood sighs and takes a seat next to you, rubbing your back as you leaned onto him for support.

"Is it needle-noggin and Meryl?"

When Vash and Meryl got officially together and Vash had come to break the news to you, you couldn't help but give him a pained smile, not even attempting to speak in fear of a tear falling out. and he asks what's wrong? Were you feeling okay? Did you need help? And he gives you that same toothy-nervous grin when you shake your head in fake reassurance.

oh how you missed that smile.

[dr4k3n0]

'Drawn to You' (Pt. 2)

Continuation of Pt. 1 one since a lot of people surprisingly liked it- 

Synopsis: Soulmate AU where you find Vash is your soulmate.

TW: None

Word Count: 1.6k

You finished up your day's work quickly bidding farewell to Jess, and her family before rushing home. You've been waiting for the day to end so that you could continue talking to your so-called "soul mate". Eventually making it to your small house, you unlocked the door, set down your things, and sat on your bed, pen in hand. What should I say..? You pondered.

You thought for a while about what to say before deciding to write, "Hey I can talk now if you can :)"

Looking at what you wrote on your hand, you sighed thinking you were just getting overly excited. 

Standing up from your bed, you began to warm up some food that you had left over to eat before noticing more writing appear on your hand.

"Oh hey!" The words said.

Unintentailly smiling, you took out your pen and began to write, "So.. how was your day?"

It took a moment for the words to reply again, "Pretty boring, besides having these mysterious words appear on my arm.. How was yours?"

You giggled at the response before replying, "Mine was busy, but decent I guess."

"Good" was all the words said.

The words stopped appearing for a bit as you didn't know what to talk about anymore. 

Taking your food out of the oven, you put it on a plate and began to eat a bit before the words appeared again. "What can I call you, mysterious words?"

Smiling a bit you quickly wrote back, "Mm, y/ns fine. What can I call you?"

The words replied back quickly before saying, "Nice name Y/n! You can just call me Vash."

You repeated the name to yourself before smiling. "Nice to meet you Vash."

Your heart was racing for no reason at all, yet you liked it. Maybe this soulmate thing is real?

Meanwhile, Vash was sitting in the uncomfortable car while the others slept. Using the little light provided by the moon, he was just barely able to see your words but smiled at each one. They seem nice, he thought. The little chats continued just asking little questions such as: what do you look like, what are your hobbies, and things like that. He found out that you had (hair color) hair and (eye color) eyes. And he had told you he had blonde hair, blue eyes, and wore a red coat. His chat with you prolonged a bit longer before Wolfwood interrupted him. 

"How long are you going to stare at your hand smiling, Needle-Noggin?" Wolfwood said with his eyes closed but was sending a mischievous smirk Vash's way.

"I'm not smiling at my hand-" Vash defended.

"I've been watching you write things and smile at it the past 30 minutes you idiot," Wolfwood said this time looking at him annoyed.

"I'll do it as long as it takes then. I'm talking to my "soul mate" thank you very much." Vash retorted back.

The two began to bicker before Meryl interrupted and yelled at them for being too loud.

"Shut up and go to sleep. Both of you," She yelled over them.

The car went silent again before Wolfwood let out a small sigh. Vash went back to looking at his hand again before writing, "I'm going to hit the sack. Talk to you later y/n. I enjoyed chatting with you."

He smiled a bit before closing his eyes happily. Was this the beginning of something much larger? 

It had been almost 4 months since you both started talking to each other. You had learned that Vash happened to be the Vash the Stampede. Although you didn't mind, he seemed like a good person and you were soul mates for a reason. The both of you had talked a lot and you always drew a bunch of random drawings on your hand just to mess with him. He would sometimes draw things back, but he liked seeing the things you drew. 

Meanwhile, your day started out normally as you had gotten ready for work before writing a greeting to Vash, and heading out the door. You walked through the small town in a decent mood. Walking through the town, travelers were just beginning to show up and the vendors were taking full advantage of that. You sighed at their wittiness before bumping into a tall figure.

"Sorry!" You said embarrassed.

Avoiding eye contact with the stranger, you walked ahead quickly trying to avoid the conflict. The figure watched as you sped off as his eyes widened.

"Y/n?" He whispered quietly yet surprised.

"Come on Needle-Noggin, people have no manners around here." Wolfwood incited before smacking Vash's back and leading him forward.

"Yea.." Vash said as he rubbed where Wolfwood smacked him. 

It couldn't have been you.. right?

You walked into work with a bright blush on your face and your thoughts, a mess. That was so embarrassing! you thought. You pulled yourself together before tending to some customers who had just walked in. Sitting the 4 at a table, you saw that they were an odd group. One looked overly tired and particularly done with life, while one had a large cross with him. The woman wore a cute bureau (is that what type of hat she wears?) with some cute dangly earrings. Then the other man beside her wore a bright red coat, had a blonde undercut, and wore bright orange sunglasses. Greeting them, you took their drink orders and walked into the kitchen to prepare their drinks. After making the drinks, you walked back out with the drinks, and gave them to the correct person who ordered each drink. You smiled at them all before taking their orders, while observing the blonde man from time to time. He seems oddly familiar.. you thought. 

You wrote down their orders quickly before walking off to give their orders to the kitchen so that the chef can make their meals. Then you went to tend to some new customers who happened to just walk in and seated them before long. Glancing at the blonde man while you walked past them, you smiled and waved at them. The blonde man waved back slightly as you saw a small drawing on the center of his palm that matched the one you had drawn on yours. You widened your eyes a bit before walking off into the kitchen and then into the back for some fresh air. Is that him..? you thought confused. Pulling out your pen, you drew a small heart on your hand, along with a smiley face. Maybe this would help you figure out if it's really him or not. 

You walked back into the restaurant before going back to work and tending to the customers. Eventually, a bell was rung indicating food was ready to be taken out and you grabbed the plates before bringing the food to the table with the 4 travelers. As you approached you saw the man who had the cross laughing at the blonde as he blushed while covering his hand.

"You're getting all flustered because of a heart?!" The man laughed as he hit the table.

"Shut up.." Vash said embarrassed as he turned away from the others before seeing you.

"Uh.. sorry if I'm interrupting.. but here are your orders!" You said to them.

You distributed each plate as the man with sunglasses was still laughing. As you distribute the plates Vash happened to notice the small heart and smiley face on your hand and his eyes widen. 

As you were about to leave, you hear someone clear their throat quickly before saying,

"Uhmm.. Ma'am, what is your name?" The blonde man asked.

"Oh I'm sorry I didn't introduce myself earlier, but I'm y/n!" You smiled.

His eyes widened before nodding at you and grinning. "Nice to meet you Y/n." He said blushing a bit.

You smiled before walking off leaving them to eat their food. Its her... Vash thought excitedly. From the sight of you, he thought you were beautiful and was excited that you were both able to meet like this. He felt his heart beat faster as he quickly ate, before standing up quickly. The others turned to him confused as he walked off towards you before they shrugged it off and continued eating. 

As you began to walk to the kitchen, Vash tapped your shoulder gently. You turned around to see who had touched you only to see the blonde from earlier.

"Oh is everything alright? Do you need something?" You asked smiling at him.

Vash's heart began to pump faster as stumbled over his words. "I uhm... are you available to talk for a moment?" He mumbled.

You lifted a brow confused before saying, "I can take my break really fast, the business is slowing about now anyways." You explained.

"Here, let's go somewhere more private," you grinned at him.  

You led him to the back of the building before stopping.

"So what did you want to talk about..?" You asked hoping it was what you were thinking.

"Do you have a pen on you?" He asked quickly.

You nodded before handing him your pen as he wrote a small hi on his hand. He watched as the writing soon appeared on your hand and he smiled excitedly. He hugged you out of excitement while you were left shocked. It was him! Your soulmate! You finally found him! You smiled happily as you hugged him back. He pulled away smiling before saying,

"Sorry that was really sudden.." He said embarrassed.

"I don't mind.. were soulmates after all.."

[fruitsoxs]

I'll be waiting this can i request my woowoo with reader.

She have long hair and need help trim it ( cause no man land Its God damn hot). She ask vash first, but somehow he suggest to wolfwood ( he's really good on that). At first wolfwood says " why you trim it, it looks good on you". In agreement he will cut her hair as the reward is A kiss 😳 PS ( wolfwood kinda like touch her hair it so soft and caught him Its really embrassing him)

Thank you for reading this !

I love you writer ITS MAKE ME MELT OMG

😳😳😳🥺🥺🥺

i love just small fluffy things like this

pairing(s); wolfwood x reader warnings; some swearing notes; some fluff for my favorite day of the week! ty for this cute request!

“Why don’t you ask Needle Noggin?” Wolfwood huffs, crossing his arms over his chest. He’s trying his best to look indifferent about the entire situation. When, in reality, his chest is fluttering at the thought of helping you cut your hair. There’s a small blush on his cheeks that he’s hoping you can’t see. He’s outside of the inn you’re staying at, smoking under the light of the moon.

You sigh and run a hand through your hair. “I already asked him- he told me to come to you.” You explain. Of course he did. He tries his best to hide his embarrassment by groaning in annoyance. He stands up straight, throwing his cigarette on the ground and crushing it with his shoe. He leans towards you, looking over your features. 

“What about the shorty?” “Meryl? She’s already asleep. Please help me out? Just this once?”

His curious eyes trail over your figure, up to your head. He cocks his head to the side “Why do ya want to cut it anyway? It looks good.” he points out, causing your cheeks to light up. “I just…It’s getting too long. I’m ready for a change, y’know?” You find yourself avoiding eye contact with the man. He’s always making you feel so flustered.

He can’t help but admire your cute little flustered expression. It helps him build the confidence he needs to actually do this. You see, he’s got a little thing for you. He thought you were pretty cute from the moment he laid eyes on you. After getting to know you though, well, his feelings just took off. Doing something like this almost feels a little too real for him, too intimate. Usually he would say no right away, but seeing you under the moonlight… 

After a while he lets out a sigh and nods his head. “Alright fine.” he finally agrees, but there’s a hint of mischief in his dark eyes as he leans closer again. “I’ll trim it up, if I can get a little reward afterwards.” a smirk rests across his features. “Oh? And what kind of reward is that?” You ask, rolling your eyes at his little cocky gesture.

His heart stops for a second. Should he say it? 

Fuck it.

“I’ll trim your hair if you give me a kiss.” he finally says, hoping that the nervousness in his eyes isn’t so easily seen. Your own eyes seem to widen at the comment, red covering your cheeks and ears as you stutter out a little response. It’s adorable, and Wolfwood can’t help but smile.”Okay…” you whisper. Wolfwood turns his head so his ear is facing towards you, cupping his hand around it.  “What was that?” He asks, pretending as though he couldn’t hear you..

You pout a bit and repeat your words., this time a little louder. “I said okay!” He grins and wraps an arm around you, leading you back into the inn. “Well then, let’s go sweetheart.” 

You make your way inside, and to his room where he has you sit down on an old wooden chair in front of him. He grabs some dull scissors, and looks over at you. “How short am I going?” He asks, hovering his hand above your head. Your shrug, keeping your eyes forward and away from him. “Just take a few inches off.” He nods, and gets to work. He starts by combing through your locks gently. It’s so relaxing, he finds himself almost unable to stop. Your hair is so soft- so beautiful. His fingers drag through your hair, separating any knots as gently as he can. You sigh a bit, and lean back, enjoying the attention you’re getting.

He finds himself blushing again. He likes the intimacy of the moment. He finds himself petting through your hair, even after all the knots are gone. “You’ve got soft hair.” he comments out loud suddenly. Even he is surprised by the sudden admission. You let out a soft chuckle. “Thanks.” And the room falls silent again.

Wolfwood shakes his head and grabs the scissors, holding them with a nervous smile. “Well, here goes nothing.” he mumbles before he starts to trim your hair. He works quietly, and cautiously. Careful not to make a mess of your hair. He can’t imagine he would get his kiss if he made you look stupid. He’s done this before plenty of times though. He cuts his own hair whenever it gets too long, and he’s cut Vash’s hair before.

When he’s done, he steps back and admires his work. It’s a little messy, but it doesn’t look back.

“And done.” me murmurs softly. You run your hands through your own hair, and smile. “Thanks a bunch Wolfwood!” you jump up and disappear off into the bathroom for a second, probably checking the damage. When you come back you’ve got a cute little smile on your face. 

“It looks great.” you comment stepping closer towards him. You lean forward, and press your lips against his cheek gently. You pop back and smile cheekily. “And that’s your reward!” You exclaim, cheeks burning pink. You then turn around, and quickly leave the room.

Wolfwood puts a hand against his cheek, his own face bright red. 

“Wow.”

[needle-noggins]

Sav's Author Highlight: WateredMyCrops

For the entire week of @trigunfanfic appreciation week, I’m going to highlight my favorite authors and friends whose writing I adore and why. Now I get to scream about WateredMyCrops, or @what-immortal-hand-or-eye.

Mothafuckin. Peregrine. YOU. Shakes you like a mischievous cat.

Pere's fics are wonderful. The proof is in the pudding, as Pere writes the insanely popular Write Your Ticket series as their main longfic story. The first fic in the series, Figure Me Out, is one of the most popular Vashwood fics out there. Period, end of sentence. It blows my mind that the fic is consistently on every single Vashwood fic rec list I've ever seen, but it's well-deserved! It's tough to write emotional tenderness and depth with our boys' emotionally-phobic Trimax characterizations (shaking your goddamned hand, Pere), but they do it wonderfully. If you somehow have made it this far in Trigun fanfic and you haven't heard of this fic series yet, let me tell you: canon-divergent Trimax where Wolfwood lives and Polyguns happens and it rocks. Their Wolfwood POV is absolutely gut-wrenching and the way he thinks about his training and internalizes everything he's been through is just so very canon to me. This is also a wonderful Vash, in all his planty weirdness and just... very very real ADHD. God he's so relatable to me it hurts. And If you like Lenipez's Becoming Eden series, this Vash was inspired by that one! Also, I just. AUGH about the final fic in the series, Raise Your Voice. Polyguns time. Handled so well. I'm honored that they told me their Meryl was inspired by mine, but then went and wrote a chapter about her and Vash specifically that absolutely wrecked my shit. I'll get you back for this someday, mark my words.

Now, because of that fic series, I will often talk about how I need to get the crazy juice out like Vash when I get the ADHD zoomies.

Peregrine's world building is also wonderful, with side OCs that make the world feel really lived-in and highlight how humanity carries on in this tough desert world. Just like Nightow showing us snippets of people's lives in Trimax, and 98's bits of pieces of worldbuilding weaved into the story there. They have a few side fics with OCs that are very fun.

Aside from all this, Pere also writes excellent one shots, both silly and painful.

Their Trigun Body Horror Week oneshots are all written from the POV of dependent plants, and ooaughghgugh. Fuck. I thought about the line "You drown in the desert" the other day and I physically recoiled. That's when you know horror is done well.

Also, as far as dead doves go, Stella Maris et Regina Celorum is... oof. So good. Big warning label: this is a fic from the POV of the plant who birthed adult Knives in Trimax.

On the flip side, if you want sillies and uh, a Samuel L Jackson cameo, may I recommend Fifteen Minutes, Give or Take? Or how about a cute sick fic, Needle-Noggin's Noodle Soup? Perhaps I can interest you in a polyguns drag show with Revenge is a Dish Best Served? There's also Erinyes, if you want Mad Max-flavored battlebabe yuri (it's me, I want battlebabe yuri).

Anyway. Read WateredMyCrops' fics if you haven't yet. Necessary experience.

[hikennosabo]

#tristampparty day 4, episode 4: hungry!

HAPPY WOLFWOOD WEDNESDAY AND DAY 4 OF @tristampparty!! i've watched this episode at least half a dozen times so... LET'S GOOOOO

it's been pointed out a million times already but lol lmao even. i want to eat rocks.

this is more subtle if you dont know japanese but wolfwood being introduced in episode 4 is also a death flag. did they plan it this way on purpose. (4=shi=death)

also the radio dj for this episode is masaya onosaka again!

it just breaks my heart, man. god when i read volume 7 and realized that's where orange got this from. man. man.

wolfwood getting hit by the truck is funny i'm sorry.

okay i'm kind of confused actually about what the plan was here... like we know that wolfwood was sent to be vash's guide, but him getting hit by the truck was OBVIOUSLY NOT PLANNED so the group finding zazie at the fuel station wasn't planned either. like. based on what zazie says later in the episode, they were "helping" wolfwood gain vash's trust by creating an enemy for them to face together. so did zazie just do all of this on the fly? should i just assume that zazie knows everything that's going on all the time? did they see what was going on from the worm cloud above that we see at the start of the episode? even though those worms were just... microbial? so they determined which fuel station the truck was going to stop at and killed the people there and disguised themself... that must have been what happened, right?

and what's with this. there was a post i saw a while ago where op said they don't like how orange adapted this scene. because the context is changed. because zazie and wolfwood are working together so instead of this being an act of genuine kindness wolfwood is just... acting i guess. but i don't know. does wolfwood even know this is zazie at this point. maybe he's stupid idk KLJDSFKLSDFJ or is it that he can't help himself because zazie LOOKS like a child?? I REALLY DON'T KNOW WHAT TO MAKE OF THIS SCENE NOW.

this is clearly an act though i mean unless orange has some insane as-yet-unseen backstory for zazie, these aren't genuine tears

it's so funny how vash gives roberto the bill like this. like, "daaaad..."

so he says, with zazie at the center of the composition.

they tried to spike him up a little bit, but no matter how you look at him, i don't think he's worthy of the title of needle-noggin. this is just wolfwood subconsciously remembering what he called vash in previous timelines (<- JOKE)

i wonder about this. the only "human" who can control worms is zazie. humans, plural, though? how many human disguises has zazie taken on over the years?

wolfwood has given negative reasons for vash to trust him. this is just vash subconsciously remembering his relationship with wolfwood in previous timelines (<- JOKE)

vash's little sneeze after him and wolfwood get sneezed out of the worm is sooooo cute

they're just lying out their ass they're fully aware that vash is a plant

ehhh i've said this before but i don't like how orange adapted zazie... they're very different from their manga counterpart. they're one of the most changed characters i think. i don't like their design that much either... the half-pants... idk... i like the bug mask at least...? i like that there's some insect-like design elements but... eh...

honestly shout out to these guys. the real stars of this episode fr

interesting how roberto is the one who distrusted wolfwood the most but doesn't actually oppose wolfwood going with them...? meryl is the one most opposed...

I'VE WATCHED THIS EPISODE SO MANY TIMES AND I STILL DON'T UNDERSTAND WHAT ZAZIE MEANS HERE. WHAT DO YOU MEAN KILLING FRIENDS. WOLFWOOD DOESN'T DO THAT. HE HAS NEVER DONE THAT.

what moment does he mean. talking about his gate so does he mean in episode 3? from when... right before he shot his gun at knives, maybe? there was a weird aura... i thought it was because of what knives did to vash's gun but... uhhh.... uhhhhhhhhhhhhh (steam comes out of my ears from thinking too hard)

uhhhh. this is ninelives. there's more than one of him. is this how they adapted ninelives... instead of being piloted by nine guys there are nine... of him... like... nine big guys... nine robots(?)...????

haha. yeah. and knives hates that. :')

that ends episode 4... we're really getting into it now...

[miamochi-writes]

Daycare Snacks Vash AU Part 3

“SURPRISE!” a chorus of voices yelled out

Vash jumped back as he rubbed his eyes, wondering if this was real or not.

“What’s going on?” Vash asked as he looked at you while you flashed him a smile.

The daycare kids, parents, staff, and even the director Nicholas Wolfwood gathered all around the playground welcoming Vash, except for one particular dad. The place was filled with party decorations, tables with a variety of food, snacks, and beverages galore. What stood out even more was a little stage with a microphone in the center.

“We decided to have an Appreciation Day at the Daycare. Specifically for you Needle-Noggin,” Wolfwood said as he popped in a lollipop and pulled out a seat for Vash to sit next to him while you ran to the stage.

“Parents! Line up accordingly if you want to say something!” you instructed as they gathered around to form a line.

One of the first was Mona’s mom as she adjusted the microphone.

“Vash, I cannot thank you enough for what you have done for me and my little Mona. I remember you taking care of her when she accidentally fell from the slide. You patched her up as best as you could and called me immediately. I can tell you love and care for the kids like your own. Mona always tells me how happy she is to come her everyday. Thank you for looking after her,” her mom said and passed the microphone to the next parent.

“Vash, I’ll never forget what you did for Marlo. He was so scared about not making friends on his first day, and I was too. It wasn’t until I picked him up I saw that big smile on his face. He told me how you included him in all your activities, introduced him to the kids, and made him laugh so hard with your jokes. I’ve never seen my baby be that excited to come back to daycare. So thank you Vash, from the bottom of our hearts,” the mom said as she passed the microphone to a father.

“Vash, I’ve never met someone who cared so much for my Ginger until I met you. I was scared to put her into daycare because of her asthma, and yet you took care of her like she was your own. You always made sure you had her inhaler nearby and that she takes it. You treat her like a normal girl and make her feel included in activities. You literally took away my stress knowing that you’re always there for the kids. Thank you Vash, trusting you was one of the best decisions I’ve made,” he finished as he passed the microphone to the next parent.

All the parents had nothing but praises for Vash as they shared their stories about him taking care of their kids. You looked at Zac’s father and saw he was looking intently at each parent. You hoped this would get the message across. Then you looked at Vash who looked so touched with what every parent had to say about him. Once the parents finished, the staff came up to the stage for their turn. Practically everyone praised Vash for making their jobs easier with helping them arrange activities, keeping things in check, and making sure everything went smoothly or going the extra mile to help the team. Eventually, Wolfwood came up to the microphone to say something.

“Vash, we have history. You really are something with your little puns, those orange shades of yours, and peace and love philosophy. Point is, I’m a sturdy guy, but I know you’re always there if I ever need anything, even when I don’t ask for it. There’s a reason I hired you for this place, and if you can’t already tell, the parents and staff made it clear. Actually, each of my staff here has something to offer for the daycare, kids, and parents and that’s why I hired them. So Vash, what I’m trying to say is, thanks for always being my right-hand man. And if anyone else says otherwise, they clearly can’t tell what they’re missing,” Wolfwood explained.

“Kids, you’re turn!” you called out. The kids lined up to Vash as they handed him a large handmade card that said, ‘Thank you for helping us grow.’ Inside had drawings of the kids and Vash together that you and the staff managed to put together.

“Thank you Vash!” they all said in unison as Vash was tearing up from the card.

“Thanks everyone, this means a lot to me,” Vash said as he tried wiping away his tears.

“GROUP HUG!” Zac yelled as all the kids hugged him. It truly was such a heartwarming sight with the parents awing.

“He’s still a crybaby,” Wolfwood muttered but Liz nudged him.

“We appreciate all of you coming out and participating! So please enjoy today and feel free to pass along the appreciation to anybody you think deserves it! There’s food and drinks for everyone so have fun!” You spoke into the microphone. The kids cheered and ran to the food table while the parents went up to talk to Vash.

You stepped away from the microphone and gathered around the staff and Wolfwood to share a few words.

“Thanks everyone for helping making this happen. Especially you Mr. Wolfwood! I think he needed to hear that,” you thanked.

“Please, call me Nico. And hey, the minute Liz told me Needle-noggin wasn’t himself I had to come down and knock some sense into him. But thanks for keeping the place together while I’m away,” Wolfwood added.

“I appreciate working with all of you, and I hope Vash cheers up after this,” one of your coworkers mentioned as they looked at the blonde.

“If you excuse me, I’m going to get some more lollipops and talk to a few parents before hitting the road,” Wolfwood mentioned as he excused himself.

All of you went to check on the kids or talk to a few parents after getting a plate of food for yourself. You then saw Zac’s dad approach Vash and held in your breath. You didn’t hear what they were saying but neither of them look uncomfortable so that was probably a good sign. Before you could read into it more, some of the parents pulled you aside to talk.

“Thanks so much for this y/n! This was such a nice thing to do!”

“Yeah, the kids were looking forward to this all week!”

“Also great choice of snacks!”

“Thanks everyone, I really couldn’t have done this without you, the kids, or the staff! And as for the snacks, that’s all Li-” Before you could finish you realized the snacks you had in your bag.

‘Oh my gosh the donuts’ you thought.

“Excuse me everyone, I gotta put this away before it’s no good,” you excused yourself as you ran inside to the employee lounge. 

“Of all the things I could forget, it had to be this,” you told yourself as you unlocked the door and took the donuts out from your bag and into the fridge.

As you closed the employee fridge, you heard someone come into the lounge. You turned around and saw Vash.

“Vash, what are you doing here? You should be outside,” you told him.

“I could ask you the same thing y/n,” he replied as he walked up to you.

“Oh I was putting your donuts away. I didn’t want them to melt or get smushed outside you know?” you answered.

“Thanks, I appreciate that and today,” he added.

“Oh it was nothing, this was a team effort from everyone,” you explained.

“Oh really? Because a little bird told me this was your idea y/n,” Vashed said as you slightly looked away.

“Maybe,” you said. But he looked at you with those piercing and innocent blue eyes as his brows furrowed.

“Okay, yes. It was me. I know you said to forget about what we talked about last time, but I couldn’t. It hurt to see you so distant with the kids. You really need to give yourself more-” you tried to explain but found yourself being pulled to Vash as he hugged you. 

You felt his hands hold your back as you felt your heart race from how sudden everything was.

“Thank you y/n, I really appreciate you doing this for me. I’m sorry for how I acted earlier. I didn’t realize you cared this much,” Vash told you.

You couldn’t help but reciprocate his hug and gave him a little squeeze as you tried to gather your words.

“Of course I care. You’re essential to this place. I really hoped this event would get the message across. I don’t care what anyone says because they don’t know the real Vash. Plus I missed that smile of yours,” you told him pouring out how you really felt about him as a blush dusted your cheeks unbeknownst to you. Vash pulled away from you slightly as you both looked at each other

“You mean this smile?” he asked as he flashed the smile you’ve come to know that always warms your heart.

“There it is! Glad to have you back to normal Vash,” you told him as you gave him a genuine smile that Vash had the pleasure of seeing. He looked away, hoping you wouldn’t catch him blushing.

“We should go back outside. You’re missing out all the fun,” Vash said as he led you back outside where everyone else was.

“There they are!” Liz called out as everyone gathered around you both.

More parents gathered around talking to you until you felt someone tugging your sleeve.

“Hey Zac, having fun?” you asked him as he pulled you aside.

“y/n! Daddy likes Vash! He said sorry to him after seeing everything today!” Zac told you as you smiled.

“I’m so happy to hear that Zac! I couldn’t have done this without you,” you said as he was jumping up and down with joy.

“Attention!” Liz called out.

“I know we all gave our appreciation to Vash, but I want to thank and appreciate y/n for coming up with this fun event,” Liz added while everyone clapped.

“I really couldn’t have done this without everyone, so if anything thank you all for everything,” you told them as the day continued on until it was time to wrap things out.

Everyone helped clean out and left saying their goodbyes. Eventually it was just you and Vash as you both agreed to lock up for the day. 

“And last but not least, your donuts,” you mentioned while giving Vash his donuts.

“Why thank you very much, I’ll gladly eat this home,” he replied as he held on to the sweets.

“Actually, mind if I walk you to the bus stop y/n?” Vash added.

“Sure, I don’t see why not,” you told him as you both walked.

You both talked about your favorite things from today and how Vash was going to keep the homemade card in a special place once he’s home. Once the bus arrived you looked at him.

“Well this is my stop. I’ll see you next week then?” you asked.

“Wouldn’t miss it for the world,” he replied as you chuckled.

“Bye Vash,” you waved as you went and took your seat.

He watched you from afar and waved until the bus left taking you with it as he flashed that warm smile of his.

~*~

The next couple of weeks you and Vash were back to being a dynamic duo at the daycare. Vash would crack his little puns to the kids or play with them during their breaks. You would make sure everything runs smoothly with each lesson or activity they were doing. Even when you read the kids stories, Vash would act out some of the scenes or pretend to voice the characters. All was well at the daycare, except for one thing. Whenever you were with Vash you noticed you would get warm or flustered all of a sudden. Sometimes if he got too close, you could feel your heart race a bit. You didn’t know what to make of it, and the more you tried figuring it out, the more confused you got.

You were resting on the swings watching the kids play. Thankfully there were no fights or arguments this time.

“Mind if I take a seat?” Vash asked.

“Not unless you have my favorite snack,” you retorted.

“Always, my dear,” Vash added as he handed you the one snack you’ve been craving.

You chuckled at how he answered as you grabbed it from him.

From afar your coworkers looked at you both.

“How much longer are they going to be like this? It’s been months,” one of the workers said to Liz.

“I know, they’re both painfully oblivious. I constantly catch Vash looking at her every time,” Liz added as she watched.

“Seriously, if they don’t say something to each other I’m getting Wolfwood,” another coworker said.

“Patience, everyone. I think I can make something happen,” Liz said as she looked at her phone and then at you and Vash.

~*~

You and Vash made sure the last kid was picked up before heading over to the employee lounge to gather your stuff.

“And that’s a wrap on Friday! Do you have any plans for the weekend?” Vash asked you.

“Yeah! Actually, I’m going to check out this new cafe with Liz tomorrow! I heard they have amazing desserts and boba I’ve been wanting to try!” you told Vash as you pulled out your phone and showed him pictures. “What about you? What are you up to?” you ask.

“Ah nothing much, probably going to rest or maybe visit some parks I’ve been wanting to check out,” he told you.

“Pretty cool! You gotta tell me which ones are the best to visit!” you added.

Then Liz walked in as you looked at her.

“Hey Liz! You excited for that cafe?” you asked.

“Yeah, about that...something came up last minute that I can’t back out from it. Sorry, y/n” she said as you looked at her with worry.

“Oh no, I’m sorry to hear Liz,” you told her.

“Nah, if anything I’m sorry. I know you’ve been wanting to go to that place for awhile now,” Liz added.

“Yeah, and the thing is they only take in reservations with two or more people. Where am I going to find someone last minute? All my other friends are busy tomorrow,” you mentioned as your were getting ready to accept on missing out on the cafe.

“Why not Vash? Do you have anything going on?” Liz asked.

“Me?!” Vash asked.

“Yeah, why not? You like desserts,” Liz mentioned.

“I mean yeah, I just, I just don’t mind if y/n doesn’t mind,” Vash said looking at you.

“Oh, yeah but what about the parks?” you asked him.

“Hey, we can do that too. I just don’t want you missing that place and having you wait to go another time,” Vash added.

“You’d really do that with me?” you asked as he smiled.

“Oh my gosh Vash you’re a lifesaver! Thank you so much!” you told him while giving him a quick hug. He was practically startled by the hug as a blush was making way through his ears and cheeks.

“No worries, just tell me the details and I’ll meet you there!” he replied while Liz briefly smirked.

“Oh yeah! What’s your number? Just meet me at this bus station around 10am tomorrow,” you told him as you handed him your phone and made sure he got your message.

“See you tomorrow Vash! Thanks again!” you told him before heading out.

“Yeah, see you tomorrow y/n” Vash waved at you with a smile. Once you were out of sight, Vash turned to Liz and looked at her with worry.

“Liz, I need your help. What do I do and what do I wear for tomorrow?” he pleaded.

“Don’t worry Vash, I’ll tell ya,” Liz said as she smiled knowing part of her plan was in motion.

Hi everyone! Thanks for tuning in and reading! Please let me know what you think :) I’ll try to get the next part out tomorrow or Saturday!

@marydragneell​

[corvidrogue]

PROXIMITY: wherein vash avoids touch as much as possible, until he can't. a vashwood character study loosely settled somewhere within the Stampede timeline.

Ao3 link

Full fic below.

The first time is an accident. 

“Stop fidgeting,” Nicholas snaps, hands chasing after the elusive ball of fluff that is the bleeding head of Vash the Stampede. “Let me look at you – can you even see straight right now?” 

“I told you, I’m okay,” the blonde insists, the thin veneer of cheerfulness quickly wearing away to expose irritation – real, genuine irritation, and the cranky note is an almost welcome reprieve from Vash’s constant fucking benevolence . From the constant softness of his face, of his empty smile; like a martyr painted in stained glass and gold, too willing to get his skull caved in if it means preventing anyone else from taking a hit meant for him. 

“If you’re okay, then stop bobbing and weaving and prove it.” There’s a hard edge to Nicholas’s voice as he gives up and grabs for what he can reach: fistfuls of crimson jacket, the fabric rough with grit against his calloused palms and knuckles pressed into stark collarbones. It takes everything in him not to slam Vash against the wall of the grungy back alley where they’ve taken cover, but Vash settles abruptly. 

Good. Maybe he’s finally gotten through that thick skull. 

“I can see straight. Well. I mean, the blood’s making things a little blurry.” 

Vash’s tone is light, expression carefully trained into reassuring cheer once more even as his left eye waters in an attempt to clear itself of the running redness. He’d removed his glasses when the lens got too smeared to see through and now he levels naked crystalline blue at Nick, underscored with dark circles and streaked with blood and still he acts like everything is fine . 

Nicholas could hit him. Instead he reaches, catches that thick skull in the pads of his fingers– 

“Don’t fucking move–” he bites, when Vash flinches again. It doesn’t seem like he’s struggling to keep his balance, coordinated enough to squirm and dodge all over the place the way he is. His eyes seem clear – aside from the blood, at least – and focused enough, searching Nicholas’s face. Something shuttered moves behind them, a silent question perhaps but Nicholas is too busy parting the unruly blonde mess above Vash’s temple to analyze it, let alone answer. 

The wound isn’t deep but it’s ragged. The falling steel beam split Vash open when it glanced off his head, leaving an ugly tear in his scalp that crosses his hairline and rips the fair skin of his forehead. Nicholas tugs his cuff down to messily blot the area clean(ish, enough), then skates his thumbs along the edge of the lurid bruising. There’s a bump. There will no doubt be an even bigger bump in an hour, but the bleeding is already slowing to a sluggish ooze. 

“Okay,” he finally admits. “Looks like you’re gonna live, needle-noggin. Beats the fuck outta me how, though.” 

Nicholas doesn’t realize that Vash is leaning on him until he starts to let go. His hands lighten their pressure, only for Vash’s forehead to sink forward – and Nicholas realizes that his eyes are closed. 

“Hey,” Nicholas hisses, suddenly doubting the clarity he saw in those summer-blue eyes just a minute ago. Vash’s head lolls, one cheek warm against his palm as Nicholas pats the other briskly and smudges more sticky blood across his cheek. “ Hey. ”

The effect is instantaneous, startling; Vash jerks upright, eyes flying open, and he nearly clocks the back of his head against the wall in his apparent haste to get away from Nicholas’s hands. He doesn’t look disoriented – if anything, he looks… embarrassed? As if he’s been caught doing something he shouldn’t.

“S-sorry–” Vash stammers, and yeah, he’s definitely blushing. Nicholas’s palms, his fingertips, feel cold with the sudden absence of warm skin beneath them. His charge is already edging away, getting out from between Nicholas and the building to head for the mouth of the alley. “See? I told you, I’m okay. I’m sturdy.” 

There’s an undercurrent of nerves when he laughs, though, that sticks with Nicholas for the rest of the day.

—

The second time is hardly more intentional than the first.

They’re arguing – it seems like they’re always arguing. Either that, or getting shot at, which Nicholas is just starting to think would be less aggravating than trying to convince the Human Fucking Typhoon to commit one single sensible act of self-preservation – when he sees the glint of a gun barrel shine from an upper window across the street. 

Nicholas doesn’t think; muscle memory and training kick in before his higher mind, and he swings. He hooks Vash around the waist and snatches Meryl up by the scruff of her oversized jacket, hurling the three of them toward the front door of the inn on whose porch they’d been squabbling. Gunfire rings out as Meryl crashes across the threshold like a tossed kitten; Vash stumbles in step with Nicholas. Roberto brings up the rear but, well, Nicholas only has two arms.

Of course, Vash grabs for Roberto, shoving him and Meryl ahead of them even as Nicholas plants his hands on that slender back and herds him toward the kitchen. The front windows blow out and Nicholas hears Vash screaming for the downstairs bar’s patrons to take cover, feels him fighting to turn back toward the source and draw the fire away like the magnet that he is. 

The Punisher thuds against Nicholas’s back, shielding them both from the smattering of shots that might have hit their target. Nicholas feels one catch his calf, doing more damage to his pants than his skin, but the graze burns almost immediately. When Vash tries to twist free Nicholas hooks him again and drags; through the kitchens, out the back door – it’s too predictable, they’ll expect it, but no one seems to have circled around yet and Roberto’s split to the left, dragging Meryl around someone’s thomas pen toward a basement hatch– 

So of course Vash splits right, away from the journalists; he’s still focused on drawing whatever fire will come their way next, as if Meryl won’t come scrambling after him like the infuriating little firecracker that she is. 

Someone should teach her to handle a gun. Maybe she’d shoot better than she drives.

Vash is fast, but Nicholas is determined, and before he can blow their cover Nicholas spots a supply truck with its rear door ajar. He grabs hold of Vash again, body-checking him toward the vehicle and all but tossing him through the narrow gap before diving in behind him. 

“Ow, watch where you stick that thing-” Vash complains, as the Punisher rams his shoulder. It drives him further into the truck, though, so Nicholas won’t apologize. Instead he just heaves the crossgun behind some crates and firmly obstructs Vash’s path out of the vehicle. 

“This is exactly what I was talking about,” Nicholas growls. “Sticking your nose into people’s business gets you shot at.”

Vash opens his mouth to argue, only to let out a muffled mrrp when Nicholas’s hand slaps over it – there’s a voice outside, at the rear of the truck. His hand drifts toward the Punisher, but Vash’s prosthetic flashes out to grab his wrist. 

“Next town is seventeen iles north.” It’s a quiet voice, familiar – the owner of the inn where they were supposed to stay the night, supposed to be comped fully in exchange for clearing her son with that loan shark. Through a gap in the crates Nicholas sees her work-worn hands close around the rear door, pushing it shut. He barely hears her over the groan of old, rusty metal on older, rustier metal. “We’ll send your friends along after ya... Thanks, Stampede.” 

The door slams, but there’s a grate between the cab and the cargo hold and it lets just enough light in for Nicholas to catch Vash’s expression. He’s frozen, eyes round over the edge of Nicholas’s hand and, interestingly, the hand that doesn’t have a deathgrip on Nicholas’s wrist is fisted in the front of his jacket. Slender fingers tangle in the fabric, a minute tugging sensation carrying through to the seams. They’re very close, Nicholas realizes. He’s practically straddling one of those long, skinny legs, and he can hear Vash’s quick breath, feel that soft face getting warmer under his hand. Vash's jaw clenches against Nicholas's fingers when he swallows.

“...I don’t wanna hear it,” Nicholas grumbles preemptively, petty in the knowledge that the exact thing he was scolding Vash for not even five minutes ago is the thing that’s saving his ass now. He drops his hand, twists free of the prosthetic grip with a deliberately nonthreatening motion, and pushes away to land heavily on his ass next to Vash. 

The truck rumbles into motion, turns, and they lose some of their meager light in the changing angle. Nicholas digs around in his jacket, pulling out his lighter and a slightly wilted cigarette. Surprisingly, Vash doesn’t say anything, doesn’t defend himself or even complain about the smoke. When Nicholas steals a glance at him, he can see just enough to fill in the details of that blank, faraway look Vash gets sometimes.

He can also see that Vash’s fingertips are resting against his own lips in the near-darkness.

—

The third time it’s on purpose.

Ever since that day in the back of the supply truck, ever since the image of Vash’s long fingers pressed to the impossibly soft skin of his lips burned itself into Nicholas’s brain, he’s been paying much closer attention to the Humanoid Typhoon. 

To the way that he moves, effortlessly swaying out of proximity of anyone around him, never in danger of bumping an elbow or stepping on a toe. To the way he’ll fall into a group of strangers like an old drinking buddy, but any friendly arm slung over his shoulder slides off after a moment as easily and harmlessly as sand off a tin roof. Human contact seems to put Vash on edge, seems to be something he’s unnaturally adept at avoiding – except.  

Except for the time that Roberto absently ruffled his hair and Vash nearly tripped over his feet, an entire array of emotions washing over his pale, pretty face before he managed to clamp down on them. What was left was one of the most genuine little smiles Nicholas had seen from him – and he realized, with a sour taste in his mouth, that Vash had turned several of those smiles onto Nicholas himself. 

Except for once when Meryl had too much to drink and threw her arms around Vash’s waist, wailing into his (deceptively muscular, Nicholas now knows) chest that he’s just so nice, and she doesn’t understand why everyone is so mean to him.  

Nicholas was about to clue Meryl in to some very unkind knowledge about very kind people, but he stopped when he saw Vash get a look like all of the air had gone from his lungs. Instead he stayed quiet, watching mismatched hands settle on Meryl’s petite shoulders. Hesitate. Grip briefly, tight for just a moment like they never wanted to let go – and then Vash was gently shushing her, shooing her, extricating himself from her clinging grip. 

Vash ended up on Nicholas’s side of the booth somehow, sitting close on the worn-out bench, and Nicholas tested. He just…tested; just leaned forward, elbows on the table to mimic Vash’s posture as he reached for his glass, and his arm and leg brushed against Vash’s. Nicholas didn’t look but he listened, heard the soft intake of breath, felt the moment of hesitation before Vash somehow moved away without moving at all. 

Except – the next time their legs brushed, Vash didn't pull away. By then he had a few drinks in him, and Nicholas could tell that he was distracted by the contact.

After that night, Nicholas kept testing, formulating the theory in his head, both hungry for confirmation and loath to question why. It’s suddenly far too important to him that Vash accept Nicholas’s touch, his closeness, that he stop constantly slipping away like a mirage. It’s a nudge of knee to knee here, a leading arm around the elbow there, a gradual press until he’s in Vash’s space more often than he’s out of it. 

And Vash… well, for the most part, he takes it. He tries not to show how much it ruffles him, but Nicholas is pretty good at picking people apart and he can see the pieces that shiver apart in Vash’s expression, in his body language. The more Nicholas puts himself in Vash’s space, the longer it seems to take for Vash to react and pull back enough to give himself a buffer, until two weeks later he’s actually allowing himself to slump into the corner of another booth, at another bar, gangly legs thrown over Nicholas’s lap and arms crossed in his oversized coat. 

This is the fourth time Nicholas has touched him and Vash hasn’t immediately swerved and deflected it.

"Feels sprained to me,” Nicholas says quietly, gently palpating the swollen, bruised mess that is Vash the Stampede’s bare foot. His normally scrawny ankle is thick with fluid, vivid purples already painting his heel and the side of his foot. “Saw a lot of these at the orphanage, one wrong roll and it’d keep a kid off his feet for six weeks.” 

Vash doesn’t respond, but judging by how quickly the vicious gash on his forehead knitted itself into a thin silver line, he won’t need six weeks – hell, he might not even need two. 

“We can splint it,” he continues, glancing over to assess Vash’s face. “I know you’re not going to stop running around on it like a maniac.” 

One palm is still levered against the arch of the gunslinger’s foot, keeping it bent at a 90-degree angle, but the other hand is easing gentle pressure up the back of Vash’s calf, fingertips pressing into overwrought muscles. He knows it’s sore, even if Vash hasn’t complained once; he saw the wince at the corner of those blue-green-blue eyes when Vash put weight on it earlier. 

Those eyes look especially green today, pitched against the redness surrounding them from lack of sleep, and they’re glued to Nicholas’s hands, the expression around them vacant and slack. He’s in his own world again, one that seems to center around the contact of calloused fingers and bare skin as Nicholas’s middle finger finds the edge of a scar trailing up into the cuff of his pants. His cheeks are pinker than their usual sunburned tint, Nicholas can’t help but notice.

“Needle-noggin.” Nicholas squeezes the wiry muscle under his hand, careful not to jostle the ankle. It’s uncharacteristically gentle, but then, hasn’t he been uncharacteristically gentle all morning? Is it so wrong to be gentle with Vash, who doesn’t seem to know what to do with it? 

Shouldn’t someone be gentle with him, if he won’t do it himself? With everything he's been through and everything coming his way? 

No. This isn't a line of thought that Nicholas can afford to follow.

“Hey. Vash.” Another squeeze and this time he gets through; Vash blinks, the mesmer broken, and seems to pull himself up from somewhere very deep and realize that he’s not where he’d like to be. “I’m gonna splint your ankle.”

“You don’t have to–” Vash starts, predictably, infuriatingly, trying to swing his legs out of Nicholas’s lap. He falters when the hands on his calf and foot don’t budge at all. “I’ll go easy on it, it’ll heal up fine.”

“Like the rest of you?” Nicholas retorts sharply, then immediately feels a wash of unsettling guilt when Vash droops like a kicked puppy. He shoves at the feeling, distancing himself from it, because he’s right and he knows it: he’s seen the gunslinger shirtless, seen the tapestry of scars and patchwork modifications that hold Vash’s body together. He’s seen the price that this man pays for his pacifism and his pathological inability to ask for help. 

Vash doesn’t seem to have any fight left in him. Nicholas wonders how much of it is their sleepless night, and how much of it is related to the way he can’t seem to keep his eyes off of Nicholas’s hands. 

“...Okay,” Vash murmurs, crystalline turquoise eyes raking over Nicholas’s face for an answer that Nicholas isn’t sure he wants found. “You can splint it.”

— 

The fifth time, there isn’t really a choice. There are so many ways in which it’s simply the only option.

“Come on, don’t be silly.” 

Nicholas is shucking off his jacket, kicking out of his suit to change into softer clothes for sleeping. It’s not technically his turn on the floor, but Vash went through the windshield of a truck today and he needs the bed more than Nicholas does. 

“Don’t you ever accuse me of being silly again,” Nicholas scolds, wagging a mock-threatening finger at the puppy-eyed heap in the double bed. Vash is stripped to a pair of worn sweatpants, shirt discarded in favor of a haphazard array of gauze pads and bandages across his back. The wounds will be scattered pink flecks by this time tomorrow, but there’s no sense in leaving them exposed in the meantime to collect dirt and discomfort. 

“I won’t if you’ll quit giving me reason, ” Vash huffs, sitting up and throwing his arms – well, arm, as his prosthetic is laid carefully next to his gun on the bedside table – wide. “You said it yourself, I could sleep in a milk crate. There’s plenty of room for you on the bed.”

He’s no longer self-conscious of his scars, not after Nicholas has reinforced several times that he could not give less of a fuck. What Vash doesn’t realize is that Nicholas always ends up distracted by how soft his hair looks, flopping over his forehead and ears after a shower, damp and free of product; or how long and soft his fingers are when stripped of the shooting glove. 

“There’s even more room for me on the floor, and I’m perfectly okay with that.” He’s already shaking out the spare blankets, kicking his shoes aside to make a bit more room where he wants the pillow. There’s a long pause, and Nicholas is about ready to consider the subject closed when Vash’s voice breaks through the quiet. 

“Nicholas, please. It’s… it’s gonna be freezing tonight.”

It’s the way he says it. It’s the care, the way Vash’s perfect, soft mouth wraps around each syllable of his name, making the simplicity of Ni-cho-las sound like something valuable. He doesn’t use it much, seems cognizant of the fact that it does something to Nicholas, but perhaps that makes it worse: there’s no forced exposure, no way to acclimatize. 

There’s just Nicholas, somehow stripped bare by the simplicity of Vash’s full attention. 

“...Okay.”

Even Vash seems surprised at how easily Nicholas caves. Nicholas doesn’t dwell on it, chooses not to dwell on it, stooping to snatch the pillow back up and toss it onto the mattress before dropping down after it. 

Vash is right. Rather, he’s quoting Nicholas having been completely correct, as usual. Vash the Stampede, the Humanoid Typhoon, the six billion double-dollar man, smiles and curls up like a kitten on his side of the bed. In a matter of seconds all of that length, all that broad-shouldered lank, folds into a compact ball of limbs tucked around the empty socket of his stump. 

“Only because you’re a fuckin’ furnace, ” Nicholas grumbles, punching his pillow a few times before settling into it. There’s still space on the mattress for him to sprawl comfortably but he can feel the radiating heat of Vash’s bare back against his arm, even without touching him. 

He can’t help but look at the body curled next to him, eyes traveling along the sharp slope from tiny waist to curved shoulder, cataloging the map of textures and tones composing the fretwork of Vash’s scars beneath the bandages that decorate his body; can’t help watching the steady rise and fall of his chest, relaxed, somehow at ease with showing his back to Nicholas of all people, comfortable with the idea of taking his fucking arm off. Leaving himself vulnerable. 

Nicholas can’t help but wonder if that would even make a difference, if he were to pull a gun. If he were to try right now to put a bullet through the back of that fluffy head.

“Don’t kick me,” Nicholas mumbles, wrenching his gaze back to the ceiling and pulling the bedsheets up over both of them. They’re not very thick, but they trap the warmth nicely.

“I don’t kick,” Vash murmurs. Nicholas can hear the laughter nipping at the edge of the words.

-

Turns out, Vash does kick. He kicks hard, actually, and it has Nicholas snapping awake in the middle of the night, reaching for the pistol on the bedside table and looking for the fight, looking for the problem, looking for the threat– 

There’s nothing in the room. The moons cast their shadows across the floor, the window is still securely shut, the bathroom door still wide open. For a moment, fingertips pressed to the cold metal of his gun, Nicholas is confused about what woke him. 

There’s a whimper from somewhere near his hip. 

Vash.

The gunslinger has rolled over, still curled small but facing Nicholas now. Instead of a comfortable crumple, there’s an electric sort of tension winding through his curled form, from the way his face grinds into the pillow to the hand gripping at his stumped shoulder…to the long leg jutted out across the bed. 

“Son of a bitch, you do kick,” Nicholas hisses, the understanding dawning that he’s just been roused by one of the sharpest knees on Noman’s Land. The ire fades as quickly as it rose when Vash lets out another pathetic little noise and twitches like he’s touched a live wire. 

“Hey, blondie, hey. ” Nicholas drops back onto one elbow, reaching for Vash – trying to slip his fingers in between the thin hand and the skin it seems to be trying to pull up – but he gets no response, just another harsh twitch. Like a hypnic jerk, except it doesn’t wake Vash up. 

He’s muttering something, strained and under his breath. Nicholas tips closer, listens as he works to dig the gunslinger’s nails out of his own shoulder, and his gut shakes when he recognizes a slurred string of sorry, sorry I’m sorry, I’m sorry.

“Vash!” 

The hand comes free, clamping tight around Nicholas’s own, and Nicholas’s other hand buries itself in that flyaway blonde – this wasn’t how he wanted to feel Vash’s hair clean, wasn’t how he wanted to discover that it’s light and thick and soft like something unbelievably expensive, but Nicholas doesn’t know what else to do. This isn’t the first time he’s been roused by Vash mumbling or moving in his sleep, not the first hint that the guy’s baggage comes out to bite him in the form of nightmares, but this is the first time Nicholas has seen him try to claw himself open. It’s the first time the mumbling has sounded so helpless – the words of an apology, but the desperate cadence of a plea.

“Vash, wake up. Vash. ” 

Several things happen at once.

One: Nicholas once had his hand run over by a larger kid on a bicycle and fractured several of the bones. What Vash does to his hand now feels like that did then.

Two: Vash’s body jerks hard away from him, feet planted in the mattress, but the crushing pressure on Nicholas’s hand drags him along and he narrowly avoids collapsing right onto the panicked gunslinger.

Three: Those blazing blue eyes snap open and dart around the room. They glow with the shimmering filigree of Plant bioluminescence, fixing on Nicholas for only a moment before sliding away.

Four: Vash begins to hyperventilate. 

“Easy, easy,” Nicholas shushes hastily, overcoming the initial shock of he’s glowing, Stampede is GLOWING again to hurriedly press his palm to Vash’s cheek. He’s sweating now, shaking and wheezing. “You’re okay, blondie. Look at me, you had a nightmare. You’re okay. You tried to rip your goddamn stump off, but you’re okay now.”

He’s expecting Vash to realize how close he is at any second, to shimmy away and hastily slap those sunny, reassuring walls back up. He’s expecting embarrassment, maybe, though there’s nothing to be embarrassed about. He’s expecting Vash to rubber-band snap back to the shallow, cheerful normalcy that he clings to like he’s trying to convince himself as much as anyone else.

What Nicholas is not expecting is for Vash to yank on his hand, somehow managing to cling to Nicholas’s whole forearm with just one of his own. The stump of his severed arm moves in a heartbreaking attempt to reach, to grasp, with no hand attached to help it. 

Nicholas doesn’t see another option. Carefully, gingerly, he maneuvers his captive arm and pulls Vash up into a bear hug, pressing him close. 

“Breathe, blondie, listen to me and breathe,” he murmurs, and God in Heaven it’s been way too long since Nicholas tried to offer someone real comfort. He’s stretching way back into the depths of his own brain, to toddlers and scraped knees and Livio clinging to his shirt; trying to apply that to an inhuman, incomprehensible creature suffering from a pain that Nicholas can’t place and probably isn’t able to soothe. 

But the creature – Vash – squirms and shakes and sobs against him just like a child, clings just like one. He only has one arm to squeeze with and Nicholas still feels like he might cough up a lung from the constriction.

Both hands free now, Nicholas puts one between Vash’s jagged shoulder blades and one back into the incredible softness of his hair. He’s still talking, just nonsense really, anything to keep Vash’s attention and give him some sort of hook to ground him. It feels so important to ground him, to get him to look up and no longer be wearing that shattered, vacant look. Nicholas lets his hands wander, soothing over ruined skin and through silky, cowlicked hair, blunt nails scritching through the close-shorn fuzz at the nape of Vash’s neck. 

There’s no clock in the room. No way to tell how long they stay like that, wrapped up in each other in the middle of the bed. Somehow, Nicholas doesn’t care. He only cares that the wretched little noises slow, quieting into a gentle, sparse hiccuping. The wet spot on his sleep shirt stops growing. Vash’s arm loosens to leave a sweat-damp band of overheated skin in its wake – but from the feel of it, remains caught loosely in the back of Nicholas’s shirt. 

Vash takes a deep breath, starting to speak. Nicholas knows what’s coming and pushes that stupid, pretty face into his chest, but all it does is muffle the words. He can’t stop them.

“I’m sorry,” Vash murmurs thickly. Because of course he is. Because of fucking course he is. 

“Don’t,” Nicholas warns, gripping tight.

“Woke you–” Vash starts, but the rest of the sentence comes out on a stiff wheeze because Nicholas has squeezed his arms hard enough around Vash’s ribcage – just for a moment – to force the air out of him. 

“I don’t care,” he growls, cutting off any attempt to continue. “I don’t care, I’d rather be awake than leave you to deal with that alone.”

Vash draws in a sharp breath then, but he doesn’t respond. And… he doesn’t pull back, either. He hangs there, heavy and warm in Nicholas’s arms, for a few more minutes before he starts visibly piecing himself back together. When he finally does pull away – slowly, gently enough that Nicholas’s hands are left to drop into the tangle of their legs – the bone-deep weariness that he usually masks so well is naked on his face and in the heavy slump of his shoulders. His eyes are no longer glowing, but they’re wet and red-rimmed against the lingering clammy paleness of him. 

Nicholas can’t help but be reminded that this gangling slip of a thing is far older than he is. Older than any human.

“Why are you doing this?” Vash asks quietly, voice shaking and thick in his throat. He’s scanning over Nicholas’s face with those bleary, tired eyes, like he’s struggling with a puzzle and starting to suspect that he’s missing some of the pieces. 

At first Nicholas isn’t sure how to respond. He doesn’t have to be doing this. He could get up now, should get up now, go have a smoke and leave Vash to collect himself. Maybe slink back to the floor, get some space between them and write it off as begrudging the gunslinger for having said I don’t kick and then knocked a dent in his leg. 

He should put the correct distance between a guard dog and its charge. 

He doesn’t do any of those things. He picks up his hand and, after a moment’s hesitation, slowly reaches out to push back the hair sticking to Vash’s sweat-damp forehead. Vash sees it coming, watches it, doesn’t move. Nicholas’s palm presses against his forehead and Vash’s eyes fall shut; it slides to his temple, down to his cheek, and Vash turns his nose into Nicholas’s wrist. He leans into the contact like he’s starved for it, like he’ll die if Nicholas pulls away, barely breathing. 

“You’d do the same for me.” It’s a cop-out answer, murmured on a slow exhale, but it’s true. Vash blinks at him blankly but there’s no way he can refute it: he’d do it for anyone. Any stranger on the street.

Nicholas, on the other hand, wouldn’t. 

“...C’mon,” he murmurs, breaking contact only for long enough to tug his cuffs down and start wiping the sweat and tears from Vash’s face. There’s some snot too, Nicholas is pretty sure. He ignores it while Vash blinks at him in something that looks uncomfortably like awe, lets himself be mopped up and then nudged back down onto the mattress. 

This time, though, Wolfwood shuffles down right behind him and when he pulls the blanket up, he slips his arm beneath Vash’s head as well. He can feel the solid structure of Vash’s spine, the tense sweep of his ribs, drawn against Nicholas’s side by the slight sag of the old mattress. Despite the palpable nervous tension thrumming through Vash’s body, he's been shockingly compliant.

“This better?” Nicholas murmurs, and when he tips his head Vash’s hair is right there under his nose. He can smell the faint synthetic floral scent of the shampoo they pocketed three motels ago and under that, a gentle tangy sweetness that's distinctly Vash. They’re so unbelievably close. It’s not exactly cuddling, but there isn’t another word that quite describes the way their bodies have slotted together so neatly, the way Vash's back fits against his side. Nicholas folds his arm over his own stomach, knuckles brushing Vash’s bare skin, and smooths the pad of his thumb down that ridged line of vertebrae; feels Vash sink in on himself like a deflating balloon at the slow touch. 

“...Yeah,” Vash breathes, barely audible. Nicholas feels a smile tug at the corner of his mouth uninvited. 

“Thought so." 

[currebunz]

Vashwood AU: laundry

Buy me a coffee

The local laundromat was rather barren most of the days. Yet Nicholas chose to go there than to get his own washer. His suits needed dry cleaning after all, washing blood out of them wasn’t fun. He would rather someone else do it for him. The machines were also cheap and it was close by, he’d be foolish not to use the place.

He ignored the pointed glare of the owner as he lit a cigarette, the fans were blowing anyways. Nicholas was leaning up against his washing machine, showing where his territory was and enjoying the low rumble against his lower back. Somewhere, a radio was playing music with a lot of static.

The loud buzz of the fans were always too loud to hear it anyways. Not to mention the steady rumble of the washing machines reverberated in the whole laundry mat. Nicholas let out a sigh, smoke leaving his mouth in a long wispy cloud. It was always the same here.

“Is there a free machine I can use?”

Nicholas turned his gaze to the door. A rather loosely dressed blonde came stumbling in with two large bags of laundry. His glasses nearly slid of the bridge of his nose as he smiled sheepishly.

“Over there” the owner grunted as she flipped through her newspaper.

“Thanks lady!” the blonde chirped and began to awkwardly waddle toward the washing machines.

He bumped into a few of the baskets on wheels, yelping as he swung his laundry bags around. He jumped and hopped on one foot as he used the momentum to turn and avoid knocking over something. He ended up crashing into a washing machine, dropping all of his dirty linen inside.

“Whoops! Ah, well at least it made it in” he sighed quietly.

He dropped his bags and tied them to one of the baskets. He had bright blue eyes, shiny like a dog on a walk. Everything about this guy was overtly positive. He was either new to the city or an idiot. Or maybe both. Either way, he looked like more trouble than he was worth. 

And Nicholas was bored.

“Haven’t seen you around here, new face” Nicholas called to him.

The blonde looked up, snapping his head up like he had been taken by surprise. He blinked owlishly at Nicholas as if he hadn’t seen him standing there the entire time. He….he had seen him right?

“Yeah, I actually just moved in a while ago. So I am new, nice to meet you…” the blonde said.

“Nicholas, Nicholas D. Wolfwood. But my friends call me Nic” he replied.

“My friends call me Vash, it’s nice to meet you Nic” Vash grinned.

“Maybe you aren’t so green” Nicholas mused.

Vash scratched the back of his neck and laughed awkwardly. 

“Why does everyone keep saying that to me?” he asked.

Nicholas chuckled, realizing his washer had stopped a while ago. He began to shift his clothes to his designated basket while Vash loaded up his own. Nicholas noticed right away he was making a lot of mistakes.

“Okay, needle noggin. You aren’t gonna last here if you keep that up” Nicholas sighed.

“Needle noggin?!” Vash repeated in shock.

“Listen up, don’t just leave your quarters out like that. People are going to steal them” Nicholas said as he swiped up the bag.

“Hey, give that back!” Vash lunged at him.

Nicholas easily dodged him, slipping the bag into his other hand as he caught Vash’s outstretched hand. He turned Vash around and gave him a light push back in the direction he came from.

“Simmer down, I’m not stealing from you. I’m showing you how easy you make stealing from you” he Nicholas explained.

“That sounds like something a thief would say,” Vash grumbled.

“I told you, I’m no thief” Nicholas insisted.

He tossed the bag of quarters at Vash, the latter catching them and holding them close to his chest. Vash pouted at Nicholas, putting his quarters in and starting the wash.

“Then what are you?” Vash asked.

“Single” Nicholas flashed him a grin.

“Real funny, I-I don’t want to know that” Vash said dryly.

“Your loss” Nicholas waved his hands in the air as he brushed past Vash. 

He gave his basket a kick, it rolling over to a dryer on the wall. As he loaded in his laundry, he peeked at Vash’s reflection in the glass door. At least he knew how to use the machines. Once he had the dryer going, Nicholas decided to bug Vash some more.

“You sure you don’t want some more of my advice? It might save your skin later” he mused.

Vash looked up, pouting and giving Nicholas a suspicious look.

“Yeah right, how much is that going to cost?” Vash asked.

“One lunch, dinner too if it takes long enough” Nicholas said.

Vash’s cheeks turned red but he remained vigilant.

“Okay then, deal” he said as he stuck his hand out for a shake.

Nicholas grabbed his hand, but not to shake. He turned Vash’s hand palm upwards. He grabbed a stray marker on one of the tables and wrote his number down. Vash choked as he realized what was happening but was too slow to pull his hand away.

“There you go, call me later” Nicholas smirked.

Before Vash could comment, there was a loud buzzer as the dryer came to a stop. Just as Nicholas had planned.