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gojoed · 1 year

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I SEE THE SAME. | vash x reader. | 1.9k words.

“Did you really think letting them shoot you was a good idea.”

A wince was let loose in the otherwise quiet room. The only noise was the bustle from the town outside, even if it was night, and the static voices of the small radio that Vash always carried. Dim lights made it a little hard but not impossible to see his fresh wound.

Thankfully the bullet only grazed his waist, not getting lodged or going straight through him like other unfortunate instances. But it was still bleeding and if it were up to Vash, he’d let it continue so. But thankfully you were here, so that wasn’t happening tonight.

Sighing, you set down the first aid supplies down on the desk that was positioned near the bed and set yourself down on the chair, wheeling your way over to where Vash was. Seated on the bed, with his head held low and eyes that were shielded by his sunset tinted glasses. His blood seemed to seep through his black turtleneck more, he wasn’t applying any pressure to the wound whatsoever.

Being a plant yourself, you understood that you both healed quicker than a human, but still it seemed unwise to just leave it like that.

Waving your hand in an upwards motion, you silently told Vash to lift his shirt. He obeyed, lifting it on the side that the wound presided. Vash leaned himself back slightly against the heel of his mechanical hand, while his flesh one held onto the fabric.

Unscrewing the cap from its bottle, you tilted it against a clean rag, letting the water soak it slightly before moving the bottle upright and setting it down on the desk. You moved your hand with the rag over to his exposed waist, but let it hover as you looked up at Vash, asking for permission.

The glare of the desk light reflected against his glasses in a way that blocked his eyes from view. But he offered a smile, one that felt empty, as if saying “yes.”

You didn’t need his glasses to be off to know that his eyes would give him away. Guilt. It was one of the most frequent emotions you always could see swimming within him. They say the eyes are the window to the soul, and by God, Vash’s was drowning.

Brushing those thoughts away, you bent forward, slouching a bit to dab at the bullet wound. The bleeding had stopped on its own, that’s good. Vash twitched a little when your free hand placed itself on the skin of his stomach, moving his shirt up. He lifted his arm a bit more.

There he goes again, helping others before himself.

“You know, you didn’t answer my question.”

He stiffened up a bit, but then relaxed as a small chuckle escaped his lips.

“Well.. it seemed like a good idea at the time.”

Your brows furrowed. Vash has had that “good idea” plenty of times during these hundred years or so. The evidence being the canvas of scars that was his body. Just how many more times would he allow himself to be hurt like this, you wondered. Knowing him, he wouldn’t stop, not with the insane amount of guilt that he always seemed to have.

Once you were satisfied with your work, you tossed the rag onto the bed beside him and grabbed the bandages that were on the table. Ripping the package open with your fingers you placed a bit of medical tape to the free end. Leaving that on the bed for a moment, you placed a piece of gauze on the bullet wound before reaching for the bandages again when you saw that Vash had already gotten it.

You whispered a small “thank you” for which you got a soft “anytime” from him as you placed the tape on his skin, beginning to wrap the bandages around him.

Straightening your back you leaned closer to fit the bandages snuggly around his waist; which Vash then prompted to open his legs wider, moving the chair with one of them to move you along with it. Placing you directly in front of him in between his legs.

Thankfully the wound wasn’t too severe, so you didn’t have to worry about using too much bandage. You had just bought it too, having restocked in town an hour prior to crashing in a pretty decent hotel. The townsfolk didn’t seem to recognize Vash from the wanted paper floating around, so you considered Lady Luck to be on your side.

Finished with the bandages you cut it off, placing another piece of tape on it to then press it down lightly. You blew out a bit of air through your nose, looking at your handiwork.

“Ok, all done Vash.”

“Thank you.”

Looking up you saw him staring at you, glasses gone. He must have taken them off while you were fixated on wrapping him up.

“Anytime.” You parroted his words back to him.

Light blue eyes made contact with yours before they didn’t, his eyes closing to give you another smile. It seemed a little empty this time. But he still must be thinking about the events that happened in the town before this one. Quite a bit of collateral damage was done to the town, as a result of bounty hunters having spotted you both and decided to see if they could get that sixty billion double dollar prize on their dirty hands.

There weren’t any casualties to add to the mountain of guilt and shame Vash carried, but there were still injuries. Not to mention that the town’s plant was almost damaged thanks to the recklessness of those bounty hunters. And one of the townspeople who did harbor resentment towards Vash, caused him to have yet another scar. One that you had just cleaned up.

Did Vash really think letting people take their anger out on him would solve anything?

Leaning back onto the chair, it squeaked under the weight of your back. You crossed your arms and sat there, patiently.

“You’re still thinking about them, huh?”

Vash makes a little noise akin to a squeak. He knows you caught him, and he doesn’t deny it. Opening his eyes you could tell they were a little watery, tears threatening to spill. But he just sniffled and laughed softly. Running a hand through his mop of hair he looked at you.

“Yeah, I am.”

You were waiting for it.

“But.. I don’t deserve to cry.”

Ah, there it is.

Those same words that you’ve heard countless times as well as the countless times you’ve seen him worry over others than himself. He wanted to cry, but he felt like he didn’t deserve to. To him, it was his inability to act that denied him of such rights. Funny, how he also thinks the actions of his brother are also his fault.

Uncrossing your arms, you reached for both his hands. You would think that his prosthetic arm would be cold to the touch, being made of Lost Technology. But no, it was warm, just like his hand made of flesh.

Your actions were unexpected for Vash, and it made him even more confused (but curious) as to why you not only grabbed his hands, but when you followed that with holding yours against his. Palm to palm, each of your hands held in the middle of you both. You lined your fingers up with his, his being a little larger than yours but you didn’t mind. In fact it was one of his traits that you loved about him. The same hands that could hold a gun and pull a trigger were the same ones that held onto your own when traveling in the dunes of the desert.

“What do you see?”

Vash blinked. Once, then again. His tears had subsided slightly so he could see clearer. Looking down at where you two were making contact, he said:

“Well, I see our hands.”

The tone in which his voice was laced with made you laugh, almost snorting.

“Okay, that’s a little obvious. So, what do you notice about them?”

He cocked an eyebrow upwards slightly, biting his bottom lip a little bit. Vash’s hair bounced a bit, as he also moved his head a bit to the side.

“They’re.. They’re like mine.”

“Bingo! If I had some, I might have given you a golden star, y’know.”

That made Vash laugh, his usual cheerful self peeking out a bit now.

“Okay, what else do you notice about them?” You swayed your hands together, as if doing so would make the answer come easier to him.

“We each have the same amount of fingers?”

“Right on, we both have ten to be exact!”

It was your turn to give him a smile, looking him right in the eyes. But he didn’t meet them, he knew if he looked at them he would break down in an instant. So he kept his eyes on his hands that were connected to yours, he liked the way it felt.

“What else do we have that are the same?”

The comfort he felt was disturbed just a pinch when you intertwined your fingers with his and swayed them side to side, moving both your arms in the process.

“We have two arms!” Vash straightened his back a bit more, your zeal seeming to be infectious and he was your victim.

It only wavered a little bit when your hands left him too soon, now pointing a finger rather delicately at his face.

“What do we have here that’s the same?”

Vash continued to list off whatever he found that he shared with you. If he said eyes, your fingers would touch right under them. When he said a nose, he chuckled when you booped him, letting your finger stay on the tip. He mirrors your actions, touching wherever you touch him except on you. He let his hands cup your cheeks like you did to him, he let his fingers gently graze your lips just as you did to his.

Vash felt his shoulders relax, the tension slowly releasing. But he felt them quiver when you leaned your forehead against his and closed your eyes.

“See, we’re not so different from everyone else right? So if they can cry, if I can cry, then that means you can too.”

Biting his lip he resisted the urge to let the tears fall, but he broke when your hands returned to his and squeezed. Only then did he let a broken sound come out of his equally broken soul. His eyebrows scrunched while he sobbed, the pain in his ribs came and went as his own cries racked within them. Vash wished he could stop, but how could he? When you were the one who pried him open and let the damn fall.

You switched positions, pulling him into a hug so he could bury his face into the crook of your neck. It was a little awkward on your end thanks to the chair but you didn’t mind, didn’t care. All that mattered to you was that Vash let the pain leak out just like the tears did.

It took him a few minutes to stop, his chest jumping thanks to the surprising force his sobs contained. He sniffled as he wiped his nose with the back of his hand. Vash broke the hug first, but returned to placing his forehead against yours and having your hands hold his.

“So.. I’m thinking pizza and donuts, what do ya say?”

Vash’s laugh broke the nonexistent tension, it sounded a little broken but he smiled. Really smiled.

“I like the way you think.”

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gojoed · 1 year

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DON’T WATCH ME DANCING. | vash x reader | 1k words.

The saloon was relatively quiet and peaceful for being a saloon.

Very few patrons inhabited the area; a group of men in the corner laughing while smoking and throwing cards at their table's surface; a pair of people at the bar sharing drinks and idly chatting. A person passed out, sleeping on their table.

Music played softly over the speakers of the building, gentle tunes and melodic rhythms. It helped guide the only two people swaying slowly on the ‘dance floor’ of the saloon. A man donning a long red coat and over-sized glasses guided your body with his, your head resting comfortably against his chest.

The warmth emitting from Vash could have put you to sleep if you weren’t dancing.

A sigh full of content escaped your lips, allowing a soft chuckle to release from the depths of Vash’s core. The emotion that was carried in your sigh made him press the palm of his hand firmer on the small of your back more. His fingers digging into you softly, the tips of them warm, a pleasant feeling.

The town in which you decide to stay the night in was welcoming, no guns pointed at your heads or chases around town. Instead only friendly smiles and a peaceful night.

It was a nice change of scenery, being able to walk on the sandy streets and not worry so much about potential harms coming your way. A break from all the chaos that seemed to follow the blond man everywhere he went.

So you considered this night a blessing.

You were pulled from your thoughts when Vash pulled you away from his body slightly, spinning you softly before reattaching himself to you. Gentle laughs filled the dance floor, a smile making itself at home on both your lips as Vash put his forehead against yours.

Normally when he would do this, it would be in the privacy of your room, for that was when his markings would appear and make themself present. But there were rare times where Vash would allow himself to let go, to allow himself to sigh in your hold in the presence of few people.

You both swayed with foreheads leaning against each other, never missing or misplacing a step. With one of your hands on the side of his face, Vash practically purred and leaned further into your touch, eyebrows pinching together slightly. Vash let his own hand reach where yours was, grabbing onto your wrist and anchoring himself to you. As if, if he didn’t, you would slip away.

“Wouldn’t you like.. Something more than this?”

His voice could barely be heard, a small sound in an even bigger room. If you weren’t so close to him you wouldn’t be able to hear him at all.

“What do you mean by that, honey?”

Vash’s lips pulled into a small smile at the name you always called him, although it felt a bit bittersweet.

“I can’t.. Give you a home. The only things I can give you are hotel rooms to stay in and small moments of peace. Wouldn’t you want someone who could give you something better?”

His words should have surprised you, but they didn’t. Even if they shouldn’t. These past several, several, years you’ve spent alongside him, you’ve come to know this side of him.

The side that believed that everyone who ever met him deserved better than what they had received from him. Vash’s pessimistic mentality that always put himself down, never allowing himself to think that he deserved anything. Because why would he? In his mind it made sense. Everyone’s misery was tied to him, a hundred fifty years ago.

He even tried to push you away from him once, albeit softly, Vash couldn’t bear to hurt you. Distance though was never created between the two of you, you never allowed it. Because if that did happen, he would be alone. Even more alone after what happened with Nai in that old crashed plant ship years ago.

Pulling away from his face, you could see his eyes were looking down. They were so full of conflict, so full of doubts. You placed your other hand on the other side of his face, effectively trapping him. No running.

“Vash, look at me.”

When he didn’t you moved your thumbs to the edge of his lips, smushing them together. They puckered, giving him an adorable face that you couldn’t help but smile.

“Look at me.”

The tone of your voice made a shiver run down his spine. Vash moved his eyes to yours, causing a small smile to return to his face when he saw that yours didn’t hold doubt, but adoration. Love.

How did he deserve you?

“I could never ask for more, never Vash. The only thing I will ask of you is for you to trust me.”

He was about to rebut, claiming that he did trust you. He trusted you so much that it scared him. But a finger to his lips shushed him.

“Trust me when I say that you are my home, I mean it. I don’t need a roof over my head to make me feel safe. You give me so much more than you believe.”

Your words made his eyes begin to water. Vash’s other hand grabbed onto your other wrist and when he held onto it, he held on tightly. As if now he was the one who was going to slip away. He chuckled and sniffled softly, hoping no one in the saloon could hear. No need to draw attention to a crying man holding onto his lover on the middle of the dance floor.

“You know.. You’re going to be the death of me.”

His tone now starting to lift, he brought one of your hands which had returned their fingers to their original place on either side of his face to his lips; placing a kiss that positively bled with all the love that he held for you. It stained your skin and seeped into it. There’s no running from him once Vash let’s himself bleed onto you.

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