#Like ya he does it for Wolfwood

[duncanor]

That's it. I get why I feel Vash killing Legato hits harder in the manga than it does in the 98's anime.

When Vash pulls the trigger he doesn't just break his vow of non-killing to his mother but he also has to accept the death of Rem and Wolfwood at the same time.

When he kills Legato, it's the moment he let them go.

[orcelito]

Ok I feel weird having my Knives tag be "nai" bc no I still can't have it be "knives" bc that's my tag for actual real knives. But there's an Implication to referring to him by Nai that I kinda wanna avoid? Also it's a tristamp only thing and im more of a trimax bitch now. Just feels weird.

So I'm upgrading. Full formality. He is Millions Knives for my tags now. I'm making it official.

[rush-the-stars]

omg I've been thinking about that anon who asked about inexperienced reader who didn't know how to kiss and if you might expand on that,,

perhaps a drabble?

pairing: nicholas d. wolfwood x reader

cw: reader referred to as “girl.”

***

“you’ve kissed someone before, yeah?” nicholas asks, his hands sliding around the curve of your waist, drawing you into him. you stand between his parted legs, looking down at him. warmth seeps through you at every place you touch, burns you.

sears you.

and you think if he took his hands away, it would somehow leave scorch marks.

you swallow hard. his lashes are a dark fan of ink against his cheek.

“yes—yeah, i’ve kissed someone before.” you snap. waspish. defensive.

his brows lift a little in disbelief, “you’re trembling like a leaf, sweetheart. you seem nervous.”

“i’m not—!”

“easy,” he hushes you like a spooked little animal. “it’s alright. you wanna go slow?”

you shiver. at the tone. at the way he looks up at you. at his thumb rubbing soothingly into the bend of your hip.

you swallow hard. then you nod, jerky, quick.

“okay—“ he breathes, squeezing your waist lightly, “alright, lets go slow.”

and then, moving as carefully as he can, he lets a hand of his slowly move down your waist, over your thigh. it settles in the crook of your knee, gently pulling so you move to his whims.

straddling his waist.

you hover over him a little for a moment, unsure, and he coos. rubs his hand over your hips and sides, not too high, not too low, until you settle, as delicately as possible, into his lap.

“there ya go,” he murmurs as your hands come up to his shoulders and fist into his shirt, “that’s right. hold on to me.”

your face twists a little as heat engulfs it. “you’re so—“

embarrassing.

but it gets stuck in your throat.

he’s looking up at you, soft lidded and earnest. rubbing at your back and hips so slowly and gently.

“you wanna kiss me?” he murmurs.

your heart kicks and jumps like a spooked rabbit, little feet thumping the earth as it tries to bolt away.

he leans forward just a little, nose brushing yours, just in your space. you can smell his aftershave. you can smell—him.

you’re trembling.

“hm?” he hums, his lips parted just beneath yours, “you wanna say it for me, baby?”

your stomach flutters. your mind sort of—

you furrow your brows. almost pouting—almost with a strange well of tears that suddenly bubbles to the surface. is he teasing you? is he being mean?

“we don’t have to,” he says now, pulling away fractionally, “what do you want?”

“i wanna—“ you unstick your voice, “will you kiss me? please?”

“aren’t you polite?” he says and you taste the curve of his smile more than you see it, feel it slanted against your lips in a soft touch.

he lingers, but the kiss is chaste. his stubble scrapes gently. you want—

he pulls away fractionally, eyes flickering up to check on you, but then you tip forward again and he returns your kiss with a little less fervor—

slower. gentler. coaxing.

he—teaches you—

a longer kiss this time, pressing a little deeper and then.

his tongue, gentle, a small flick of it.

you open for him. bloom like a flower.

he hums, the first time he licks into your mouth.

your fingers are curled so tensely in his shirt, that you fear you’ll tear at a seam. but you can’t—you’re so—he’s so—

“okay?” he murmurs against your lips and when you nod, dazedly, he returns almost instantly.

he kisses you deeper. a little harder.

nips at your bottom lip until you make a little noise against him. and then he does it again, slower, pulling at your lip a little—

teaching you.

and then the next time, you give a little nip to him. and you can feel him smile, you can feel him squeeze your hips.

“atta girl, that’s it.” he hums, drawing you closer, hitching your hips tighter to his. “you’re a fast learner.”

you bury your head into his throat, hiding, as you grumble, “you’re an eager teacher.”

he laughs and you can feel it in his chest, reverberate against your own. his stubbly jaw scrapes against your cheek affectionately.

“i’ve got more to teach you,” he says, voice dark and soft, “if you’ll be my willing student.”

you nip at his neck shyly, as if to retaliate, and he tosses his head back, and squeezes at your waist again.

“i’ll take that as a yes, you brat.”

[aimfor-theheart]

pairing: god of death!nicholas d. wolfwood x god of life!reader

cw: um nothing. except i did take the "you're early" and "i missed you" from hadestown. pls forgive me. i just love it so much so sorry for this like. somewhat plagiarism. allow me this one little one from the broadway hit musical hadestown.

***

The days grow shorter; the dark creeps in earlier, eager and searching for you. You hear how it howls for you, longing, aching. It hunts for you, like a dog on a scent, and you know it always comes for you.

Shows up in your garden, whistling, hands in his pockets.

And he looks the same as he did when he first showed up like this, whistling that lonely little song. Hands in his pockets. Slant in his shoulders; walking out of darkness, walking like a thief.

Your heart stops the same way it did the first time, too.

And that tender thing inside of you shudders and awakens, blinks it's eyes open and shakes its weary head.

You wonder if you'll ever get used to seeing him like this, if he's ever gotten used to seeing you like this, in your garden. In the light and lush fauna, emerald and golden, and bleeding with life.

Where he swarms with death—inky darkness and quicksilver, his eyes dark and smoky. Darker than any earth you know.

He disarms you.

Your undertaker. Your god of death.

You try to steal yourself, harden your heart and your eyes. You lift your lips, a flash of a threat.

"You're early," you snap.

He laughs, rough and soft, the shadows shuddering with it.

"I missed ya." He drawls and his smile is wolfish as ever as he steps into the light.

You bare your teeth, "summer's not over."

"It is now." He responds easily, shrugging like it’s nothing, shrugging like it’s his.

“Their harvest will die,” you snarl, rushing for him, and with you, the earth blooms—rushing in your fit of anger to surround the two of you, vines and verdant green shimmering and shuddering in irritation.

He glances around at your display, eyes lifting to a thorned vine that lopes close, its leaves rough and dark.

He reaches up with a careful hand and strokes along the vines path, careful of its burgundy thorns.

You shiver. His eyes return to yours.

“It always does,” he agrees, “I’m afraid that’s life, dove.” And now he moves to reach out and touch you, too, “don’t make this harder than it needs to be.”

You lurch away from his touch and that vine suddenly curls around his wrist—the thorns bite and sink into his flesh.

It leaks with gold blood, slipping down his forearm.

He hisses, pulling a little to test the give, but it only shoves into his flesh harder. Digs in and catches, keeps him there.

He fixes his eyes to yours which are wild and desperate.

“I need more time—“

“Well you don’t have it.” He snaps finally, eyes blazing heaven-dark. The shadows move and slither, irritated.

“Then you’ll have to catch me.” You get out suddenly, words flying from your mouth before you can think. Your heart kicks up, “you’ll have to drag me back this time.”

He bares his teeth and you think of a hellhound, leashed and bound.

“Then you better run—“ he says and you can’t tell if he’s grinning or close to growling, “I won’t go easy on ya.”

You look at the sun in the sky, at the wild world behind you, and then back at him. Night will fall soon.

But this is your world of the living and you know it as well as he knows his world of death—you know it the way you know his teeth in your throat, or he knows the thrumming burn of your touch. And it’s your only chance now. You’ll run like a fox hunted, like a rabbit with a wolf on your tail. You’ll run like it’s all you’ve ever known how to do.

“Then catch me if you can.”

[fairy-writes]

SO MANY KISSES, SO LITTLE TIME

Reblogs and Comments are greatly appreciated!!

__________________________________________________________________________

Fandom(s): Trigun Stampede

Pairing(s): Nicholas D. Wolfwood x Reader

Word Count: 1.2k

Genre(s)/Tag(s): Gender Neutral!Reader, “Sweetheart” as a nickname, Types of Kisses

Notes: I’m still very new to the Trigun Stampede fandom. Seriously, I finished the anime two days ago. So please forgive me if I get anything wrong! (I’ve also only seen Stampede, so don’t come for me pls)

__________________________________________________________________________

Kissing Nicholas D. Wolfwood was hesitant.

He kissed you like he was scared you’d disappear. Like you were nothing but a mirage he couldn’t touch with his fingers. Almost as if he expected you to be a ghost and not a real person before him.

His lips are chapped, and he tastes like the cigarette and booze he had just had. But you can’t bring yourself to care all that much.

Because your first kiss with Nicholas D. Wolfwood is hesitant, yet as the kiss goes on, he gets bolder and more confident. But he still handles you with the delicacy of someone who was oh so scared.

You pull away from him gently, playing with the baby hairs on the back of his neck as you lean your forehead on his,

“That was a long time coming.” You tease, and he just huffs, pinching your side and making you squeal slightly.

“Shaddup. I wanted to do it right.” He grumbles but leans back in to peck your lips once more. 

Kissing Nicholas D. Wolfwood was tender.

It’s late at night, and Vash is snoring lightly in his sleeping bag just a few feet from you. Roberto and Meryl are asleep in the van, leaving you and Nicholas awake to keep watch.

After all, you never know when bandits could strike.

You toss a stray stick into the dying fire and look up at the stars. You can hear Nicholas lighting up a cigarette next to you, but you don’t say anything. You’ve chastised him enough about his smoking habits, and you know for a fact that he doesn’t care enough about his health to really do anything about it.

Eventually, you lean your head on his shoulder. He doesn’t move at first. He never does. But slowly, as if reassuring himself that this is truly okay, he wraps an arm around your shoulders and tugs you through the sand until you’re flush against his side. You hum when he asks if this is okay. He’s always asking if this is okay, even though he knows your answer by now. 

“‘Course it is. You know you don’t have to ask Nick.” You whisper into the night and hear him chuckle under his breath. He doesn’t respond. Not verbally, at least. 

Instead, he tilts your chin to face him and presses a kiss to your mouth. It lasts no more than a few seconds. You reach up with one hand to cradle his jawline, feeling his stubble scratch your fingertips and bring him back to your lips the moment he pulls away. He laughs,

“Can’t get enough of me, can ya, sweetheart?” He teases, and you grin, nudging his nose with your own. 

“Never.”

Kissing Nicholas D. Wolfwood was quick.

Gunshots rang out around you, and you ducked as one whizzed over your head. You could hear Vash trying to talk down the bandits trying to claim the bounty on his head. 

It wasn’t helping much. 

You unholster your pistol and check the magazine. Fully loaded like it had been a few minutes ago. Meryl and Roberto cower behind you, and you load a bullet into the chamber of your gun. Your trigger finger doesn’t touch said trigger just yet. 

Nicholas slides around the corner and bumps into you, hauling his cross behind him as one of the bandits throws a freaking grenade. 

“What a shit show!” He snarls, and you bark out a laugh, 

“Any chance we can leave Vash behind?” You say, not meaning it because Vash is a good person and an even better friend. He always had your back, just as you vowed to always have his. 

Nicholas scoffs,

“Trust me, sweetheart, I’d love to if it meant getting these bastards off my ass.” He says, peeking around the corner of your little hidey-hole before jerking backward to avoid getting hit with shrapnel from another grenade. 

Just as Nicholas makes to run back out, you snag ahold of the collar of his shirt and haul him down to press a bruising, quick kiss to his lips. He looks half-dazed with surprise but recovers in milliseconds. 

“Be safe out there.” You plead, and he grins that suave grin that has your heart stuttering in your chest, 

“Always.”

Kissing Nicholas D. Wolfwood was slow.

You sit up against pillows, nursing a bullet injury to your shoulder, some minor scrapes and bruises, and a fractured ankle to top it all off. The town you were in was small, with only a few hundred residents and the only medical clinic for miles. You had to shell out your last few double dollars just to pay to be treated. 

Nicholas sits beside you, cleaning his Punisher while you doze. He had volunteered to stay behind to watch over you while Vash went into hiding until you were healed. Meryl and Roberto holed up in the ramshackle inn down the road. 

“How ‘re you feelin’?” Nicholas asked, and you snapped awake. The painkillers you were given thankfully muted the pain to a dull throb, so you were able to adjust your pillows without any issues. 

“As good as I can be, I suppose.” You mumble, and he scoffs, 

“Needle noggin is gonna get you killed one of these days.” You shrug your good shoulder,

“I’ll live. I got you to protect me, right?” You say goodnaturedly and smile when his lips twitch up just the slightest bit. 

It’s silent for a beat. Then two. 

“Y’know… There’s something that might make me feel better.” You muse, and he looks at you, eyebrow raised, as he sets aside his Punisher up against the wall. 

“And what’s that?” He replies. You look up at the ceiling, tapping your lips with a finger before looking at your lover with a sweet smile, 

“A kiss.” 

Nicholas stares at you for a second before hanging his head with a shake and a chuckle. But he doesn’t say no. 

You knew that kisses were the one way to get him out of his slump. And you also knew that kisses were the one thing he never said no to.

So, he scoots off his chair and onto your bedside, where he leans in and kisses you slowly. You taste the barest hint of the medical serum he had used to heal himself after the gunfight and the cigarette he had had before stepping inside the hospital. You inhale through your nose and take in his scent of sand and the earthy smell that seemed to cling to him no matter where he went. 

Nicholas pulls away after the kiss and flicks your forehead, 

“Get some sleep, sweetheart. You’re going to need it if you’re gonna get better.” He whispers, and you roll your eyes. 

“Only if you sleep, too.” You say and tug him down until he’s lying with you on the cot. It’s small and, therefore, awkward, but you’ve slept in worse places.

The only thing that matters is that Nicholas is there with you.

[imustbenuts]

nuts reading in jp 12 - trimax ch 1 and 2 time HBRBRHBRHBRHBR

last we left off, vash meets wolfwood and i smashed out a bunch of nonsense saying how wolfwood brazenly climbed over one of the walls vash has.

i think more of this happened in trimax ch 1 and 2. there's something going on with the framing here.

being buck naked

so previously in post #10 ive mentioned how meryl and milly stumbling into a half naked vash is him showing them the most open and vulnerable self he has. in trimax ch 1 this happens again

except he isnt half naked this time, hes buck naked and just took some bullets right in front of wolfwood and his ruined salad grub.

theres also this scene where vash talks pretty openly about how he feels about the fifth moon incident. hes scared, and he declares it to wolfwood. buuuut, check out the bubbles ive highlighted here:

i think this might be a problem stemming from DarkHorse's work bc in the JP its actually like this:

❗Vash doesnt say "I chose to retire"❗

Wolfwood says "So ya chose to retire." (more directly: so ya chose to live on the down-low?) the Tell here being the kansai dialect in the bubble.

i dont like nitpicking over translation mistakes. id probably slip up here and there if i did trigun too bc the japanese level in here is higher than what Shounen Jump has. also no hiragana aid in trimax cry

anyway

this then implies wolfwood has sussed out vash pretty well enough for vash to continue spilling more information. i suspect if wolfwood didn't, the conversation miiight have ended right there.

these panels, man. wolfwood is looking with half of his expression covered. meanwhile, vash doesnt meet him and just wants to hide. maaaybe run? idk. interpretations ahoy.

thats a fun dynamic. on another note

that vash in trimax ch 1-2 seems to be using Ore with wolfwood throughout their interaction. i suppose its a continuation of how vash seems to have some trust towards wolfwood, as he did watch him give whats little of his money left towards kids previously.

but if im understanding how nightow is now framing this whole concept correctly, the whole pronoun usage here is to drive home how multi-faceted vash is. that is to say, all of these parts are him, and we as the viewer see it all laid pretty bare.

the characters meanwhile do not, and certainly not wolfwood... yet. though if you wanna interpret the nakedness it might be that the TriGang have seen the rawest part of what drives Vash.

aside, boku is still around. internally when hes reflecting and feeling unsure, Boku is used in this scene:

....hmm 🤔

otherwise hes using Ore and seems pretty resigned to confronting the situation with knives as wolfwood delivers his colt back.

The threat

ok this is fun. so take a look at the last bubble in the JP side. (all EN versions here are from OH)

rubby hands. hey Boku is back. and theres a heart sakldfjasdlf anyway okay so my sloppy/direct translation of all of these would be

I won't give you even a moment to reload. I won't kill you, but I'll entrust you with one request. Soon, I will leave this town. And after! If I find that something happened to my family or this town... I'll have you take all responsibility, okay❤️? "

god this is so good its chilling more of this nightow pls

Whua-?! Protect them from the other thugs. Sweet deal, isn't it?! And hey... Fail, and know that I have every intention to chase you down to the very depths of hell.

HBHRBHBRRBHRBR. so many things going on even in the EN version.

he also says family. i cant find this in the EN version but he does reciprocate the familial feelings Sheryl and Lina has towards him.... ;w; ... hhh.

[straycalamities]

Hello, how are you

Why do you Like Entre and Swag?

i’ve been sick almost the entire past week but i think im getting better

do you mean as a relationship? ho boy. well, first of all, seeing as a lot of ships ive gotten into after it end up sharing a lot of similarities, i think its safe to say it became one of my favorite ship dynamics period

this got long fast

enemies/rivals-to-lovers isn’t anything new for me seeing as i dedicated, on-and-off, 8+ years to naruto and sasuke as one of my first hardcore ships that i still enjoy

and in general i just really like ships between characters who bicker and banter a lot (vash and wolfwood from trigun being a perfect example of this) but still being something more significant to each other than either of them truly realize until it sinks in either slowly or forcefully

and especially as i’ve grown older, i’ve gotten more and more and more interested in the intricacies and complications of having two very…hmmm damaged? i guess? personalities trying to find something that works because they need it to

which the other two ships have as well, but in a more “toxic yaoi” way, ya feel? LMAO like! hannibal and will graham from the hit show :) which that came after swagtre but it still stands as it got me to appreciate that aspect of their relationship even more than i did

swagtre is in no way synonymous to hannigram. hannigram is on a different level of delicious toxic yaoi, BUT it goes to show what ive opened up my ship palate to voraciously

even so, that’s moreso the early stage of their relationship, which is fun! but also not the whole story

i guess the main thing that initially drew me in was that i’ve always had a weakness for characters like swag. he’s so full of bravado, performative self-interest, defusing every little thing with a joke, and all the while coming off as a destructive idiotic selfish little brat. meanwhile the truth that resides is much deeper than that. that he does care, he just doesn’t know how, so he does his best which…is easily overlooked because he’s uncomfortable with being seen for being genuine in any way because it makes him feel vulnerable and blah blah this ain’t a swag study

but anyways truffula flu made me like him a normal amount! :)

then there’s entre who wears his heart on his sleeve moreso. he’s always been more honestly reactive, that’s why his mainverse it’s so fun to pick on him, and it didn’t get numbed by the apocalypse all that much. entres also a guy who takes things for face value at first. then there’s also the fact he used to have such a hero/senpai-crush on swag before the whole thing even happened and they’d even became pretty friendly acquaintances

and now he’s having to wrestle with the fact everyone who used to like him, hates him, except dave and bitter. and anyone else that might? probably dead. and of course! why wouldn’t they? his big mistake that cost the world

and swag is the loudest reminder of them all. forcibly inching and digging and clawing his way into entres psyche and mind until he finds himself using all of swags same words at himself during moments of self-hatred. self-hatred that’s been there all his life but now it has a burning world to reference. and swags voice mingling with his mother’s.

and entre may get defensive and bite back and try to turn things around on swag, but he can never truly say swags wrong. because he’s not! entre fucked up everyone else’s lives over a deeply selfish and shallowly thought-through decision. and even if swag is also a capitalist self-serving asshole, well he only destroyed his own environment, he didn’t end civilization as they know it

and that just makes it worse than the preachy “hippie” types that used to nag at him before. someone who’s in his same ilk is now berating him

and while entres never Not risen to rage-bait. he absolutely never took the phrase “don’t feed the trolls” to heart, he also has deeper reasons why with swag he always throws himself at the opportunity to try and defend or twist things, because it’s hitting him so much harder than everyone else (besides 72)

so yes, when swag keeps saying entres obsessed with him, he’s actually right! entre IS and has been since swag forced the jester hat on him and paraded him around camp as a spectacle. one that he can never truly deny that he deserves

i also think we should go back to entres pre-apocalypse feelings about swag because it’s important to note that entre wanted to Be swag. he looked at swag and saw the man he wanted to grow into. maybe less childish and gross, but the charisma behind it all, the way that even despite that, he had so many wrapped around his finger and every word

and the thing with early entre, is he always directly compared himself with other oncelers. sizing himself up against them and like…really it just makes sense right? to him, they were all iterations of himself, achieving and accomplishing or even failing different things. and even if at first the multiverse unnerved him, he started to use it to his advantage. i mean he got 72 to mentor him, he was lifting tips n tricks off others like swag, and he was directly taking notes on how Not to be off others (One, Bitter, Strangecase, Stone (sorry man ilu) and more bc this list is longer than the idol list LMAO)

so thats just more to really hammer in how intrinsic to entres identity swag became and it became more palpable in the worst way in truffula flu

this is all as an aside to the crushing guilt of his giant mistake itself but we all know how he feels abt that

and for swag, i mean don’t take my word here as word of god because i don’t THINK my theory here is confirmed to be canon, but im pretty sure he saw himself in entre as well. like it went both ways. and swag felt fear AND i guess relief? if that makes sense that it was entre instead of him. like this guy is very much Like him and any of them coulda done this, but it was entre, not swag. and that’s why swag is very insistent on not letting entre forget it, because deep down he’s terrified that it could’ve been him if entre hadn’t done it first

and so he looks down on him and beats him even further down as a way to kinda uhhh make himself feel better? except it doesnt. it never makes him feel better but it DOES make him feel not as worse as he could, or thinks he could if he just let the guy go after daring to make such a fool of himself in front of everyone

i think, as much as entre sees himself and how he wants himself to be in swag, swag sees himself in entre and what he doesn't want to be. and entre changes it to him seeing all the stuff he doesn't like about swag, the pieces of him he doesn't want to mimic because he refuses to continue to admit to himself that he still envies and looks up to the man swag is, because even at the end of the world, he's one of the few who seems to have something figured out that works for him. he actually seems to enjoy himself in this hell. he seems to feel free to find happiness and entre couldnt be more envious of that

but then as more and more people crowd into their camp, and they get to a baseline and learn the uhhh capabilities of their survival companions, they also learn to realize that they operate on the same wavelength the most even if neither of them admit it. obviously everyone wants out of this hell, but i dont think any of them tenaciously chase after that ambition as much as swag and entre do, for their own reasons

most of the rest of the camp has taken a sort of acceptance to the situation either in a pragmatic or pessimistic way. and of course nobody wants this to stay the way it is, but they don't have that sort of...all-encompassing fire to find a way to reverse their situations as much as swag and entre. i mean we did have bitter's optimism for a bit there, but he was doomed so like...what other option did he have other than believing in entre, but it was absolutely rooted in nothing. even entre knew that.entre especially knew that. bitter was deteriorating the fastest he'd ever seen it and if he hadn't been able to find a way to slow it down in the other ppl who took weeks to turn, then what was he going to do for the guy taking days?

so all bitter's optimism did was make entre feel sicker with guilt for everything and completely drove the little grip he had on hope into the ground. especially by making him take his first un-turned life. especially because, i think we have to address this here to fully understand why entre goes the way he does afterwards: bitter was never truly bitter to entre. bitter was himself. bitter was the likely future entre saw himself walking towards. out of every other onceler further ahead along from him, successful or aftermath or otherwise, bitter felt the most real for him

bitter was always his own failure even before it happened literally and live right before his eyes. that's always what he meant to entre even in mainverse/pre-truffula flu. that's why he made such a dedication to trying to butt his way into bitter's life. that's why he spoiled him and wormed his way into his heart, because he was trying to put that energy out there that one day, if this were to become literally his fate, someone would do this for him as well. or maybe he'd put enough good karma out there with doing this for bitter, that this wouldn't even become him at all!

that is exactly why entre was so stricken after his death. that's why it hurt and broke him so hard. he didn't know bitter long enough for his cries of "he's my best friend!" to fully be true. if anyone was entre's best friend at the time, it was 72, or dave, or his own mother. it was not bitter, bitter was his pet project. bitter was the poisoned dart that seared in striking him, and slowly ate at him after he was gone. bitter was him fully being unable to run from the consequences and culpability of his own actions. because now this was something that was clearly, unignorably, happening right in front of his eyes and now the blood was directly on his hands

bitter was his future self and his sealed demise that came with it. bitter was his destroyed future. bitter was his own mortality.

entre does come to realize something akin to this later on, but i guess i didn't make it understandable enough because i think a lot of people missed that this was the true narrative going on underneath the surface. which is my bad and on me, i could've done a better job, but ya. this was always my intention and it's a very key part in understanding why entre is the way he becomes and does what he does afterwards

which, back to swag, is his doing to entre. because swag does strong-arm him into and making him believe there was no alternative to entre killing bitter who swag DID, as anyone else did at the time, believe entre's statement that entre saw him as his best friend, but that also meant that was even more entre's problem to solve to him. and it's something entre finds hard to forgive swag for for a while after, even as his own guilt berates him for his own involvement in creating this fate for bitter, there's always that part of him that blames swag for forcing him to actually face the consequences of his actions. because, as most oncelers, entre doesnt like that very much LMAO

and yet despite it all, it still, in its own twisted way, makes him feel the most seen by swag. if that makes sense?? especially as 72 made it abundantly clear he was disappointed in him and didn't even seem to know who entre really was anymore. the survival needs and guilt had warped entre towards a vitriolic survivalist away from that bright eyed young man that he had taken in.

and then of course, nobody else really seemed to want to push a deeper connection with him at the time for this or that reason. so he had dave, who he personally saw as still just an employee so of course dave was with him and on his side, he had that employee loyalty. dave became his right hand, but that also meant that entre felt that he couldnt confide as much in dave because it's hard to explain but it's like...since dave was working FOR him, he didn't want to muddle it up with personal feelings to keep dave sharp. that's what entre thought at the time anyways

and so, for better or worse (mainly worse) who stuck around and kept nosing endlessly into entre's business and his life and burying himself in his side like a thorn he couldnt remove and absolutely couldnt forget. well that was swag.

in this sort of fucked up whirlwind...swag became the most emotionally significant person in entre's life. especially as swag started to show that he DID gave at least half a shit. and after their shouting matches that got swag to admit this little tip of the iceberg or that. entre did get to wondering what else there was going on underneath that. it became something he wanted to dig at to find out.

despite how they bickered and butted heads, entre always felt more comfy telling swag things he wouldnt or would no longer tell anyone else. swag's little bits of sympathy or lightheartedness became little crumbs of something that entre subsisted off of to keep going, because, despite everything, he still looked up to him. he still admired him and what he was capable of and what he could do. and how he didnt seem to let anything that was going on bring him down. he kept his shine.

and for swag (again not word of god here) i think he liked that entre DID butt against him. obviously he had fun with rocky and one. but (and this IS word of god/confirmed canon) they weren't as much his friends as he touted they were. swag struggles creating (and especially maintaining) close relationships. they make him vulnerable and they come with stakes and things to lose. so swag always kept his relationships fair-weathered and shallow. (aside from just not knowing how to be genuinely real and vulnerable with people in a way that COULD cultivate a close relationship) he sure did say and shallowly BELIEVED they were deeper than what they were, but deep down...he had an idea that were push come to shove...he wouldnt mourn anyone as much as your normal guy would mourn his true friends and he felt that it was mutual.

so as much as he ran away from it, swag felt very alone. swag always has issues with loneliness and that's why he throws himself from person to person and has to be the loudest and brightest and funniest in the room. and hey even if you hate what youre hearing and seeing, he's still got your attention. and that can be good enough when it comes down to it. (end of word of god/confirmed canon swag stuff)

but yeah i think that...not that rocky or one were yes-men or anything, but i mean they kinda just worked with his antics and like okay yeah here we go, swag stuff again yay(or nay) but entre always was fighting it. he didnt just accept swag entirely for this way or that, he was always critiquing, always challenging, always prodding back as strongly as swag prodded him. and i think that change of pace is what kept swag coming back over and over beyond the other stuff i said earlier

and like...as the guy at the center of it all, i think even swag said it himself at some point, if anyone knew how to get them back out of this mess it was him. and as swag said: he saw entre as a way better leader than him. even if it personally irked and annoyed him, himself when it happened to him. entre clearly had figured out his stuff and what he'd say had merit (just not with swag who always knew better for himself)

so if entre saw swag as the better leader for his charisma and weird optimism, then swag saw entre as the better one for his pragmatism and his knack for staying rational most of the time. i think that's also why entre's slip in lucidity bothered swag a whole lot because...if entre couldn't be the rational one, they were screwed. he'd gotten used to entre being a kinda...logical pillar to bounce off of, so if he was losing his touch with reality, that was going to doom the lot of them (even him). it's also with (word of god) swag's deep deep fear of abandonment so...if entre abandons his own senses, he's abandoning Swag and that Cannot Happen

this is a whole lot but its really hard for me to explain the why FULLY without dragging out all the nuances and complexities to their relationship because THAT'S WHY!!! it's SOOO complex and there's so many layers and nuances to everything that had to keep working in a certain way to go in a positive direction or else it all fell apart, as we saw, over and over

they both have so many issues that hold them back in ways and then theyre both so damn stubborn that it ended up making them even getting along as FRIENDS a damn slow-burn (and i am, always, a sucker for a slow-burn. one of my main weaknesses in a ship)

you can see they both end up wanting that, even if neither of them would admit it. but they both, as businessmen, saw their cooperation as fruitful for the success of themselves and the camp. it was just all this other baggage going on making it hard

so then we get the hospital. where rocky gets his harsh taste of the reality of their situation and he gets HIS humble pie of his own mortality, pushing him away from swag who remains reckless. and then entre, feeling ostracized from literally everyone and even having a hard conversation with 72 in the elevator, when it all comes down to it, and they seem doomed. he lets himself be weak and falls a bit into swag. and this is where it changes a lot of things for entre. this moment of weakness he was pushed into by fearing it was this or never.

because obviously they get saved and then it's swag losing his foot or getting left behind for zombie-chow and OBVIOUSLY the latter isnt an option so...entre makes that call and then cant go through with it because swag's fear is shaking him to his core in a way he never thought would happen. like he let himself get weak and it's immediately striking him in a soft spot that changes him for the rest of the story

i think it's here where he gets that kinda "oh..." deep deep down. that wow. yeah. swag is much more significant to him than previously believed. that leads into the hardware store where slowly and surely, swag becomes his precious possession. swag's the only one that believes in him. swag's the only one that understands him. swag's the only one he wants to be around. nobody can touch or harm swag but him. swag is his responsibility. swag is his, his, his.

and this is very very poisoned by entre's deteriorating state of mind and emotional health. the man is a long-coming disaster finally starting to collapse on himself. and the centerpin of it all is keeping swag safe and to himself because swag's the only good he sees right now in this hell of a world. swag's words become law in his mind. if swag says he has to be more of a leader, more assertive, he'll take that and run marathons with it. anything to make swag proud of him

because that's another thing is entre has just...always chased someone being proud of him or happy with him. or that he was doing good or whatever. a common onceler problem with the way that Once-ler Mama just Is but yes...it's always been a big deal for entre. he's terrified of failure. and he's terrified of disappointing people who mean something to him. so he'll do whatever it takes to make swag proud and it's not like the rest of thee camp know better than Him what's the Greater Good for them, of course. he's the leader. he's the one who created all this. this is his world and he knows everything about it better than anyone.

meanwhile swag's too fucked up on having his wings finally clipped after leaving off the high of true and total freedom for so long. that he has to stew with no escapism and let the reality of his life as it is now sink in. old ghosts start to catch up to him and new horrors start to sink in. that and the pain meds of course, but through it all, he's still operating on that trust he's placed in entre. entre's a weirdo, but he always takes care of him and spoils him as much as he can. and it makes swag not wanna question, not that he has a leg to stand on (ha) currently anyways when it comes to that. he doesnt know anything going on outside his door. and to be honest, i think that's the part of this shitty situation that he likes. he's clearly tired and been tired of feeling responsible for other people, but he also cant help himself because of his deep need to try and keep as many people in his life as possible because that means the ones that leave have a lot more replacements

but yeah obviously when he gets out and suddenly everyone is his responsibility again and it's up to him to be the hero (in his perspective) he puts entre in his place in the only way he knows how, but at this point...he's reached an understanding of entre and entre HAS become more significant to him than just a business partner. and he's starting to act on the parts of entre he can see in himself and so despite entre fucking up (yet again) he sees it as entre just trying to do what he was guided to in the best way he could manage and swag has little issue just being like ok you fucked up but who cares about that anymore

he has a better understanding on how entre thinks and what he wants (not a great one but a better one) and i think he knows that to endlessly punish entre and leave him alone would just make him way worse and so he decides to stick with him himself (i also think this is also swag's abandonment issues)

i don't think has very recognizable romantic feelings for entre at this point, but entre very much does for swag. so this keeps entre on his feet as much as it can despite the whole spectacle of it being something that'd drive him, any other time, to a long walk off a short pier. but it had to be a spectacle for swag because he had to show to everyone that hey hes here and hes the one fixing things! youre welcome!

but it's still a harrowing experience that strip entre down to the bone and he might be at his lowest he's been since bitter. maybe even lower, but then the prisma event happens and, if entre's event stripped entre to the bone, swag's stripped swag to the marrow

and if there's one thing about entre, it's fixing problems that aren't his own is one of the best ways to keep him moving. even if to anyone else, what swag's been doing this entire time for entre is the Absolute Bare Minimum, in entre's persective, with what he knows and observes from swag, it's worlds and worlds. so when the tables turn, entre feels like it's his turn to give back. and maybe the tables didnt entirely turn on their own, but entre pushed them to. he spun it.

swag was already knocked down a peg by losing his foot, but losing his emotional stability, his comfort, his optimism in this hopeless world. being abandoned by someone that was more dear to him than the others. that slammed him rockbottom. he stopped caring about if people liked him or not because why bother? they're all going to die or leave anyways. i think he knew sooner than we think that rocky was infected, and one was always him being purposefully obtuse. he knew what his fate was. everyone was going to leave him now. and he refused to care about it anymore

shoving everyone away and hermitting in himself. the same careful practices he berated and mocked entre for are things he'd come up with on his own. he was there to be useful now in a direct way. with practical ideas, survivalism, and physical labor. if there was no more joy or optimism, whatever. they were alive. and his joy didn't get to smile anymore so no one deserved to

i think it was the one-two combo of prisma and rocky that really did swag in because, even if i said he doesnt get Actually close to people, he still considered them his. like those are his people and he's going to lose them all. they're all going to leave him behind on this earth that he's been knew for a while fucking sucked shit, but as long as he got to have fun it hadn't mattered, but now he can't

and entre kinda...accidentally did the best thing he could've for swag at this time. he also felt alone, discarded, from the queen piece on the board to a pawn. and so he clung to the only thing he'd found reliability in over and over for better or worse: swag

in general, in this arc, i was working on him taking this giant blow to his ego as a humbling moment to have him kinda try to make amends and create meaningful relationships (or repair the existing ones) with the others in the camp, but being that he thought none of them wanted anything to do with him, his main focus was always swag. swag was the only one besides dave that he thought without a doubt, wanted him around in some capacity beyond being useful

and it's not that entre is a stranger to only being seen for his usefulness, so he bared down into that otherwise, but having tasted the high life...that's why he stuck to swag. he was back to eating those crumbs like addictive delicacies and they tasted even sweeter this time. they end up becoming very, very codependent on each other. they were before a bit too but here, especially so,

but with entre's tanked self-esteem (and it was already pretty bad before) and his sense of duty and taking responsibility, he takes to his role like a duck to water. but it's kinda...funny bc they both become both roles in a codependent relationship??? so it's like...codependency in its most truest realized form lmao

it's starts especially one way but then entre gets sick and it flips the other way, but entre's still trying to maintain the original set-up. this is also where their relationship becomes physical. from affections kept away from others' eyes, to deeper kinds of intimacy. i think with all that they've lost and are doomed to lose, they find their old coping mechanisms (which were never healthy or actually worked either tbqh lmao) just weren't cutting it anymore so then they turned to other things

with like...needing a more direct and physical and raw way to show each other they're still alive, still here, still significant to each other. swag initiates it more, i think, because while they're both on the asexual spectrum. swag's is demi. so this goes to show just how emotionally important entre's become to him, but also i think it's because of yknow...how he was raised. and for him it's more comfortable to do bedroom stuff with entre than kiss him or rub his shoulders. that stuff's "for girls" (too emotionally vulnerable)

and swag starts to show his care as more of...like a direct invasive thing. where he's not going to let entre abandon him too. he's going to somehow make him better and keep him here as long as he can. and entre's taken to rolling over for nearly everyone because he doesnt feel like he's allowed to stand up for himself and this includes swag because it's clear he's doing it because he cares so it's fine right?

and that's kinda where everyone's idea of them leaves off because we never got to go past that. so i get where people, especially those who aren't a fan of toxicity in their ships, would be confused why people like swagtre so much and even for me, as much as i love a good conflict in my ships, i think if this is all it was, i wouldn't be quite as obsessed as i am. because i'll be honest!! it made me sad quite a lot LMAO but i always did it for the bit (story) above all else. because while i wanted entre to say the magic words or do the magic thing or have the magic realization that would fix it all, that's not a good story

but it really is for the later story that i've gotten so caught up. even before we confirmed the Continued story i was always caught up and daydreaming of where this could go

and i just really really love the growth they've had with each other and how many like...jumps in their characters and stuff they've made with and because of each other. entre would not be who he is today in any iteration without some of the realizations i've made through swagtre and same with swag i know with good authority

and it's just like...it takes so long to get even where we ended it. and they have all these weird labyrinthine bullshit things to work through and against and with to get anywhere. and it goes back and forth. forward and two steps backwards so much. but it's just very interesting to study and even reread or reminisce on. and even think about ways it coulda gone differently idk...i just like ships that give me multiple multiple things to chew on and think about. i like to have a full course meal. no shade to people who like other stuff but yea..that's what i personally enjoy. the more complicated, the more difficulty and personal baggage and issues they have to work through to make it work, the better

and i can't say too much on where it's confirmed to go, because that's yet to be seen (smile emoji) but yes...it gets better and idfk i just eat up to people becoming super significant to each other in an apocalypse especially if they started off hating each other?? damn

and it's addictive seeing swag start to come more and more out of his shell. i say his moments of being genuine, vulnerable, real, and raw and caring were addictive crumbs for entre BUT BITCH ME TOO TF!!!

it drives me NUTS (SLASH HUGE POSITIVE!!!!) i love being a driving force to get to see aspects of a character we wouldnt see otherwise. knowing i had a hand in swag learning things about himself and revealing things about himself he would never in other situations...yum...that's the good shit

but yes so concludes my novel on why i like swagtre including i guess an impromptu summary of their relationship

if you made it all the way to the end god damn man...love ya

[galactiquest]

I just adore your blog! Something about it and your imagines are just so sweet and homey 🥺 Could I please request some headcanons for Vash, Woowoo and Knives with a reader who loves to draw and is really passionate about it? I mostly have general sketching/figure studies in mind but you can do whatever is easiest for you! I hope that you have a good day and your blog continues to prosper <3

Thank you for the compliment 🥺!!! I'm so glad it feels homey. I try to make things like a home here... after all I LIVE HERE... thank you I hope to keep this blog going for a while after trying to revive it like twice before!

I think this request is so cute, I'm an artist too (have been for like, over a decade ^_^) so I've got lots of ideas in that aspect. I tried to keep to general sketching/traditional stylings of art but I think a lot of these can be applied to other art areas too!!

Vash, Wolfwood, and Knives x Reader: Artistry

Content Warnings: None! Reader doesn't have a specified gender, and some parts of the imagines are a little romance-oriented but this could also be interpreted as a strong friendship. Also this is my first mutli x reader so I hope the formatting's alright. No version was in mind for any of these so take them as you will!

Vash

Oh, he is definitely excited about this.

Vash is a bit of an artist, himself. He can do those super-complex technical drawings, and he really likes making art of machinery and stuff like that. There's a lot of diagrams of his arm lost in a notebook somewhere.

He loves to see your style and interpretation of the things around you. Seeing the world through your eyes, even for just a moment, is like heaven to him.

If you ever give him some of your art as a gift, he keeps it hung up on a wall or wherever he can stay for a while. (If he's in a more permanent place, his walls are covered in your art. He just loves it that much.)

The ones that are most special to him, he likes to keep in his pockets, so he can look at them whenever he needs a morale boost. Like, this is what he's fighting for: a world full of love and peace, a world that's able to keep creating beautiful art like this for years to come.

One day, the two of you get to draw each other as a sort of practice. Seeing each other through the others' eyes... again, it feels like a dream. Vash draws all the parts of you that you weren't always confident about with such care that you feel truly loved by him in that moment.

Wolfwood

"Oh, yer an artist? ... Can ya draw me?"

Yes he will absolutely pull that stunt at least once or twice, if only to get a hilarious dirty glare out of you. If you do actually take him up on this, he might let out a nervous "Haha... I mean, ya didn't have ta' do it, but..." He'll be really charmed.

Though his hands are strong and nimble from doing all those flippant tricks with the Punisher, he's entranced with the way you're able to use yours to create, to draw.

He's always sneaking you extra supplies, like pens, pencils, and paper, whenever you least expect it. You never have to ask for any of those things anymore, or even shop for them--they just happen upon your desk whenever you think you're running low.

One day, he takes a piece of your paper and a pen and doesn't let you see what he's doing until he's all done. He's a little dodgy about showing you, eventually he does. It's a crude scribble of the two of you, though you can tell he really put his all into it.

It's your most prized possession, and you give him a big hug for it.

Knives

Much like Vash, he's actually an artist himself--but doesn't really call himself one, rather saying that he's... capable of copying something he's seen part-for-part. So, his drawings are more like pictures or prints. They're exact. Eerily so.

The art that you make gets a half-hearted snort of approval from Knives, which is basically one of the highest praises he can offer in his own sort of language.

Though normally he'd want to give some sort of unwarranted criticism for a drawing looking wonky or off, he saves you from it. He doesn't want to break your passion--but he's not going to admit that outright.

If you do ask for criticism, though, he's very thorough while keeping you on the road to improvement. If you're studying a specific style, he's reading up on it. If you're trying new materials, he's making sure you have all the tools necessary for it.

And speaking of materials, he's able to secure uncommon colors and rare tools for you to use for art. He's making sure that everything you create is of the highest quality.

One day, you drew a portrait of him and presented it to him as a gift. He gave out that little snort of approval and maybe even a a tiny "Thanks..." as he wandered off. He secretly keeps it close to look at it in his private time, tracing his fingers over the ink marks and recalling your movements.

[peachy-posy]

Ride This Out - Vash x Reader (Chapter 1)

Summary: After putting yourself in a dangerous situation, you and Vash have one of your first major arguments.

A/N: Third Trigun fic, woohoo! This was my first time writing something with the 98 versions of characters specifically in mind, so I hope everything feels in character! I tried my best hehe Last chapter will have smut (my first time writing any hhhh), minors DNI!!! Cross-posted to my AO3 <3

Chapter Tags: Established relationship, canon-typical violence, minor violence/injuries, hurt/comfort

Word Count: 3.1k

Traveling with only men is decidedly… not very fun, in your opinion. At least not the ones you're with. You lean your head in your hands, listening vaguely as Vash and Wolfwood argue between themselves in their good-natured, but annoying way. You tuned them out about half an hour ago when the conversation started heading in that argumentative direction. 

You miss Milly and Meryl. When the boys start debating and arguing, the three of you have your own conversation, laughing and joking with each other. The insurance girls had been sent to a neighboring town several days ago, promising to meet back up with you three in a week or so. That day could not come sooner. 

Your eyes, which have been glazed over for some time now, focus as Wolfwood huffs, leaning back in his chair. Vash does the same, but you don’t feel any real malice between them as usual. Seems like they are finally done. 

You glance over at the blonde, feeling his turquoise eyes on you.

“Everything okay, Mayfly?” He questions with a smile, reaching across the table to take your hand. 

You smile, even as Wolfwood groans something to the effect of ‘Oh, here we go.’

“Yeah, everything’s fine. I was just thinking about Meryl and Milly,” you answer, prompting a bright smile from Vash at the mention of the two girls. 

“Aw, what, we aren’t fun enough for ya, sweetheart?” Wolfwood asks, his tone teasing. 

You glance at him tiredly. “Unfortunately not. Sorry.” 

He feigns hurt, over-exaggerating his reaction. “You wound me!” Vash chuckles to your side, and you share an amused smile with him. This ramps up the theatrics from the preacher, and he looks at Vash. “How can you lie down and take this? You’re included in that statement, you know.” 

Vash shrugs, rubbing his thumb across your knuckles. Your heart flutters at the action. 

“Oh, please. Get a room,” Wolfwood remarks. You can’t help but snort, even as Vash puffs up. 

As he begins to reply, gunshots echo from somewhere outside: perhaps near the town square. You jump, slightly surprised, and Vash’s hold on your hand tightens as he hears shouting from outside. 

You know what comes next. 

Wolfwood grabs his Punisher, stretching casually as he stands. Vash stands as well, walking over to you briskly, kneeling at your side. He takes you by your shoulders, locking eyes with you, and calls your name.

“You’ll be okay on your own for a bit, right? Don’t come out unless one of us comes for you.” 

“I know the drill, Vash. Be careful,” you reassure, giving him a quick kiss for good luck. He smiles against your lips, able to get lost in the moment, but only for... well, a moment. More gunshots and screams ring out, and he stands up with renewed urgency, meeting Wolfwood at the entrance with long strides. 

Vash glances at you one last time before exiting. You blink and the two are gone, leaving you behind in the old tavern. The few patrons that were there as well had gone to investigate the commotion, leaving you alone. 

You sigh, unwanted frustration with your situation bubbling up in your chest. Unfortunately, it’s like this all the time. After all, you aren’t some incredible, talented gunslinger. You’re just a healer in love with one. 

You slowly stand up, leaving the table you three had been occupying, scrutinizing the room for a good place to hide. After a few minutes, you find yourself a nice little spot behind the bar. It’s not necessarily perfect, but it’ll do. 

You lower yourself to the floor, preparing yourself for the waiting game. You wonder how long it’ll take for them to come back today. Fifteen minutes? Thirty? An hour? 

You hear more gunfire and shouting in the distance, and you try your best to ignore it for now, despite the uneasiness settling in your chest. There’s nothing you can do for anyone until the danger is over. You know that this general course of action is what is safest for you. You hide yourself away, waiting for the ‘all clear,’ then tend to any and all wounded people who happen to get caught up in whatever happens, a reassuring smile plastered on your face all the while. This is how you do your part in the small group you’ve found yourself in. 

It also allows Vash to not be worried about your safety while actively dodging bullets. 

You’d worked in a small clinic before meeting the Humanoid Typhoon what feels like ages ago. Your role as a doctor’s assistant made you happy at the time; it made you feel fulfilled and helpful. And it still does! 

That said, you sometimes find yourself wishing that you could protect others the way Vash and Wolfwood can. Not that you want to throw yourself into the fray of battle, but you hate feeling so… useless at times like this when the fighting first breaks out. Weak. Like something that needs to be tucked away and protected. 

Vash adores that you are a healer. He’ll sometimes sit with you on quiet nights, his fingers rubbing affectionate circles into your hands while he holds them, saying that your hands were made for saving people. You tell him that his hands were too, but he denies it every single time. He says his hands were made for violence. For destruction. 

You couldn’t disagree more. 

Not when you see all of the good he does, protecting those around him with the very hands he swears will bring destruction to everything they touch. 

You are startled out of your thoughts by the sound of a bullet ricocheting particularly close by. You hold your breath, trying to gauge how far away the person who fired it is. You can hear voices in the distance that sound closer than wherever the main incident is. You bite your lip, considering if you are hidden well enough. Slowly, you begin to notice the sounds of… crying? 

You know Vash doesn’t want you to put yourself in harm’s way, but what exactly would looking through a window do? Besides, the crying sounds too much like a child for your comfort. 

You rise slowly from behind the bar, finding your resolve to investigate. Making your way over to a nearby window on light feet, you carefully peek outside. At first, there is nothing that you can see. Suddenly, though, a small child running down the street comes into view. He’s crying, dust coating his hands and knees. He’s bleeding from a few small cuts that you can see from your current view of him, but otherwise seems physically unharmed. 

You gasp as the boy trips, tumbling hard into the dusty ground. He sucks in a sharp breath, bottom lip wobbling. In the blink of an eye, four men concealing their faces with bandanas are upon the boy, one of them grabbing him roughly. 

The child shrieks, thrashing in the man’s hold. To your horror, another one of the men points a gun at him. He can’t be more than five years old. The sight of it makes you nauseated. 

“You’re gonna regret running, you damn brat,” one of the men rasps angrily at the sobbing child. 

“Bring him back to where the other townspeople are. Make sure you don’t lose any this time,” one of the other men orders. 

“G-got it,” one of them replies nervously. 

“If it happens again, it’s your head.” 

It seems like this gang took some hostages when they got here, and this boy escaped. You can’t let them take him back. They don’t seem to have any issue shooting him, as you heard that gunshot earlier as they chased him. Your hands are trembling and clammy, but you know you have to do something. 

But with what? You don’t have a weapon. You desperately look around the tavern, and your eyes land on a knife and empty bottles. Acting quickly, you grab one of each, a messy and dangerous plan forming as you go. 

All you have working for you is the element of surprise. You can’t fight, but you know where to hit someone to make it count due to your medical training. You just hope you’re fast enough. 

You look outside once more, and you notice that two of the men are gone. The other two that remain are talking to one another for the time being, distracted. One holds the child in a punishing grip, surely causing bruises to form on his small wrist. He's wailing in earnest, despite the captors' barking at him to quit. 

It’s now or never. You open the door as quietly as you can manage, gripping the bottle. You’ll have to hit one of the men as hard as you can in the head with the bottle, then use the knife you’d pocketed to strike the other. Your plan is to slash the ligaments behind the knee, immobilizing the person. The bottle isn’t very ideal, but you’re worried your lack of skill with a knife will cause you to accidentally lose the weapon in a body if you try to use it for both men. 

Unfortunately, you know your plan has little chance of success. Once you attack one, the other knows you’re there. Your best bet is to incapacitate the one holding the child first and to assess in the moment if you can deal with the other. There is a large chance you’ll just have to grab the kid and run as fast as you can, hoping you find Vash or Wolfwood if you make it to the town square. You look down at the threshold of the tavern, trying to will your legs to move forward. Your body is frozen, unable to walk outside. 

Suddenly, one of the men turns on his heels, striding back down the street where they originally came from. That gets you moving. 

You hide yourself behind the door hastily, praying you haven’t been spotted. Several terrifying moments pass where you wait for them to descend upon you. You can hear your heartbeat thrumming in your head, throbbing in anticipation of the worst. 

The attack never comes. They haven’t seen you.

You can’t believe your stroke of luck. You may actually be able to pull off incapacitating a single person, even with your limited capabilities in combat. 

You carefully set the bottle on the ground, reaching for the knife you grabbed. You peek around the door, eyes finding the man and boy immediately. The man is yanking the child, trying to get him to cooperate. His back is towards the tavern. 

You grip the kitchen knife firmly, trying to control your shaking hands as you emerge from behind the door. You approach as swiftly and quietly as you can, soon finding yourself within striking distance of your target. 

Just slash the back of his knee. He shouldn’t be able to chase you if you tear a ligament. 

Steeling yourself, you aim for the back of the man’s knee, slashing with as much force as you can muster. 

You know you succeeded when he howls in pain, immediately letting go of the child and grabbing his knee, falling to the sandy, dusty street. He is bleeding, gripping his knee tightly, and he turns to look at you with a shocked glare, his eyes filled with malice. 

You drop the knife in shock, your bloody hands making you nauseous. 

Time to go! 

The child is pale, shaking like a leaf as you scoop him into your arms. The man shouts from the ground, and you see him start fumbling around, looking for something. 

“Get back here! You bitch!” 

You turn on your heels, sprinting as fast as your legs can go. You hear a deafening gunshot, flinching as a bullet hits the dirt nearby. You realize that he had been trying to get his gun, and unfortunately for you, he found it.

He shoots again, but you have already begun weaving as you run, hoping to throw his aim off. The child is clutching onto you fiercely, burying his head into your shoulder. More bullets hit the ground around you, and your heart is hammering wildly in your chest. As you turn the nearest street corner, you find yourself shocked and relieved your plan is working. You just might actually be able to save this child. 

Your thoughts come to an abrupt, violent halt when you notice a dark blur in your periphery. A man slams his gun into your head with a snarl, and you are thrown towards the ground. On your way down, you attempt to shield the boy as best you can, wrapping your arms around him tightly and trying to absorb the shock of slamming into the ground. The breath is knocked from your lungs as you collide into the street with a groan of pain. Your head is swimming, but you unwrap your arms, trying to sit up as quickly as possible and get the boy to his feet. He seems relatively unharmed, but terribly shaken up. 

“Run! Now!” You scream, and he thankfully listens. 

He darts off, right as the man reaches you. You see him start to move after the boy, but you lunge for and grab one of his legs, causing him to stumble with curses spilling from his lips. He whips his head down to look at you, and you do your best to not recoil from his gaze. 

“You just don’t know when to quit, do you?” He scowls, kicking you off him. You gasp, hitting the ground once more with a painful thud. Your ears ring, and your vision is blurring. 

“Just who do you think you are?” He kneels in front of you, gripping your shirt’s collar and yanking you up. You whimper in pain, your head throbbing as he jostles you. 

“I hope it was worth it. You can take his place.” 

“I’m not scared of you,” you lie, managing to catch his eyes. Truth be told, you're terrified. But you’d never tell this scumbag that. 

He lets out a low, threatening laugh. Chills race down your spine. “Oh, you aren’t very smart, are you?” He laughs again, gripping your collar tightly. “You’re lucky I haven’t killed you yet. I’m still deciding. How about I rough you up a little till then?” 

You feel the burn of tears in your eyes, and blink quickly to dispel them before they can form. You refuse to cry in front of him. 

You desperately hope the boy is safe. You’re so close to the town square. Vash and Wolfwood should be right near here. 

Through your blurring vision and pounding head, you see the man rear his hand back. You shut your eyes tight, bracing yourself. 

Instead of feeling the collision of his hand, you hear a sharp intake of breath. You crack open your eyes hesitantly, vision blurring. 

Your breath is pulled from your lungs, tears of relief flowing immediately. Because even with blurring vision, you are able to recognize the long, red coat blowing in the wind. Standing behind the man who tackled you is Vash. He’s holding the man by the wrist, and he looks furious . 

“Vash,” you breathe out, voice trembling. 

The man drops you from his grip, and you fall into the ground, immediately using your heels to scoot away from him. After blinking several times to focus, you take a good look at Vash. You’ve never seen him so angry before. The hand he’s using to grip the wrist of your assailant is trembling with restraint.. 

“I-I know you! You’re Vash the Stampede!” The man realizes with wide eyes, his face pale. 

Vash says nothing, his eyes narrowing. The man continues his nervous rambling. 

“L-look, I didn’t… we didn’t know you were here. If you want this town, it’s all yours. We’ll leave.” 

You hold your breath, watching to see what Vash does next. Your heart aches for him, knowing that he is bothered by the rumors that precede him. That said, that infamous reputation is pretty convenient right now. 

Vash uses his gun to knock out the man without a word. He immediately goes limp, crumpling to the ground as Vash releases his wrist. You release the breath you’d been holding, noting the pain in your head and body, but mostly feel great relief. Vash’s gaze remains trained on the unconscious form before him, his expression complicated. Several beats of silence pass, and you feel yourself becoming slightly anxious. Why hasn’t he said anything this entire time?

“Vash?” You call hesitantly, voice quiet. 

Your voice snaps him out of his daze. His eyes flicker up to yours, relief washing over his features as he races forward, throwing himself on his knees in front of you. 

“Oh Mayfly, god, look what they did to you,” the words spill from his mouth as he holds you in a bone crushing hug to his chest. 

You let yourself be cradled in his arms, disappointed slightly when he pulls back after a moment. He looks pained. 

“Your head,” he murmurs, hand gently reaching for your temple. You hiss when his fingers graze the throbbing, painful area. He retracts his hand, the blood on his gloved fingertips making you realize you’re bleeding. 

“I am so sorry. I’m so, so sorry,” he whispers, holding you close again. 

You furrow your brow and shake your head, trying to ignore the dizziness it causes. 

“You have nothing to be sorry for. It was my-” 

The words die on your tongue as you hear a familiar voice chattering animatedly around the corner. Both you and Vash turn to face the noise, seeing Wolfwood strolling around the corner of the building nearby, holding a child in his arms. You feel the tension drain from your body fully at the sight of the familiar little boy unharmed. 

You hastily stumble to your feet, trying to get over to him, doing your best to ignore the dizziness that overtakes you from the sudden movement. Vash scrambles after you, holding onto you as you sway. 

“Easy, easy! I think you have a concussion,” Vash implores, but you press forward stubbornly. 

The child sees you, squirming from Wolfwood’s grasp to reach you. With dried tears on his face, he looks up at you with big, worried eyes. You feel Vash’s hand at the small of your back, gently steadying you. 

“Well, looks like we found her! Good job, bud!” Wolfwood praises, ruffling the kid’s hair. 

A bright smile forms on his little face. He reaches out and snatches your hand. 

“Come help me find my mommy!”

[wolfwoocl]

The longest route, the highest sky

@typhoonvash

When the time came, Wolfwood had made his choice a long time ago. Long before the glass cracked between his teeth and serum flowed past his lips and down the column of his throat, long before angels concerned themselves with the affairs of men. 

He never did go around fixing churches like they said, but…

He’d saved this one.

Hopeland was saved, even if he ended up needing a little help at the end. His mistake was not realizing he mattered. He could feel Vash attempting to quell that bottomless grief even if he could no longer feel the twin suns’ warmth on his skin. Shadows of fluttering confetti cut across his fading vision.

The bell tolls. 

…

“Huh?”

The pearly white ceiling he opens his eyes to is not the confetti-dotted sky he remembers seeing last. He blinks rapidly, clearing the bleariness from his vision and the fog of sleep still clinging to him. A plethora of medical equipment encircles his bed like attending nurses. 

Beep. Bu-beep. Beep, pip pip. Beep beep beep. 

Reminds him of some old Earth pop song. How does it go again? 

Ooh, baby, do you know what that’s worth?

There’s more to the chorus, but he can’t quite summon the energy to remember the words right now. Wolfwood sits up, grimacing as he overcomes the inertia of moving stiff muscles. Following the natural timeline of muscle regeneration, he must have been out for a good few weeks. Would make sense, considering…Looking around at the various screens and blinking lights crowding him in, both familiar and not, he surmises that he must be on Home ship. 

Disappointment leaves a pit in his stomach. There isn’t a bed next to his. Hell, there doesn’t even seem to be a single window in the whole damn room. He can’t even tell what time of day it is. 

“Nicholas D. Wolfwood, you’re awake.”

“Oh, fuck!”

The guardrail rattles when Wolfwood nearly throws himself against it. He heard the disembodied voice first, but it was the ghostly apparition that appeared afterward that set him off. Once he’s managed to swallow his heart from where it leapt into his throat, he recognizes the patient, downturned eyes and dark, short-cropped hair. The ghost looks like Luida, only way too young.

That’s the part that least concerns him. He’s seen and faced worse, and knowing space age technology is involved, there’s probably a reasonable explanation besides. 

“Where’s–”

Ghost-Luida holds up a hand to stop him. “Vash is not here. I know you must have many questions, Nicholas, but please hold them for now. You’ve been asleep for a very, very long time and we have a great deal to discuss.”

With great effort, Wolfwood manages to keep his growing list of concerns locked away behind his teeth. Begrudgingly, he settles back into the sheets and folds his arms across his chest. The mere weight of them makes him grimace briefly. He distracts himself by rhythmically tapping his fingers against his bicep. A window to look out of would be nice to have right about now. “Alright.”

“Thank you. First, I want to make it clear to you that I am not Luida. I am merely an imaged clone, and thus act only as a reflection of the person from which I was created. We felt that it would be best that you were greeted with a familiar face.”

“Right. So, assumin’ I understood a word ya just said…”

Luida’s face falls eerily blank for a moment before she responds, “Apologies. Let me rephrase appropriately. I am merely a recreation of SEED Ship designation 0-3’s leader of approximately seven generations ago. Her experiences, her memories, her appearance, are used by me as a means to provide counsel to Ship 03’s leadership.”

The longer she talks, the harder it gets to ignore his own growing sense of apprehension. “The hell do ya mean, seven generations ago?!”

Blankness again. Not-Luida seems for a moment uncertain of how to handle his outburst. 

“Perhaps I ought to start from the beginning.” She assesses him for a moment. “Do I have your word that I will be permitted to speak uninterrupted for fifteen minutes?”

While the obvious inclination written on Nicholas’s face is a ‘no,’ he eventually sighs and nods his assent. 

“Fine, fine. Just tell me one thing before ya start– he’s still alive, right? Vash?”

“Yes. His story and yours are intertwined. He first brought you here nearly two centuries ago…”

[anyasathenaeum]

omg I loved that jealous Wolfwood 😳 may I ask how he would act in the opposite situation? like, reader is usually kinda sassy and he thinks she's not into him, but when she sees him flirting with someone else she gets all pouty and irritable - and he notices.

Mine, And Only Mine

A/N: Anon, WHAT A GOOD IDEA. Here, have a fic about it!

Pairing: Nicholas D. Wolfwood x reader

"Does he have to be such an ass?" You hissed to yourself under your breath, glaring daggers as you watched Wolfwood flirting away with yet another random person at the saloon.

You knew Wolfwood wasn't doing anything to be an ass, at least, not more than usual - so why were you so upset?

"Jeez, (Y/N), if looks could kill, even Wolfwood would never be able to recover from the one you've been giving him for the past fifteen minutes," Meryl chuckled, causing heat to rise to your face and you to look away from where Wolfwood stood.

"No, it wouldn't," you ground out unconvincingly, to which Meryl just snorted in reply.

Within moments, you found yourself looking back at Wolfwood, feeling your heart sink just a bit lower and crack just a bit more as he let out a laugh at whatever the person he'd been flirting with had said.

"Why don't you just tell him how you feel?" Meryl suggested after watching you carefully for a few moments - she wasn't blind. She could see the heartbreak happening in your eyes.

To that, you simply laughed emptily, "And be heartbroken for sure when he rejects me with that stupid smirk on his face? Yeah, no. No, thanks, Meryl."

"Why do you think he'd reject you?" Meryl pressed, trying to find a way to make you realize that Wolfwood liked you much more than you thought he did.

You scoffed, "Look at him, Meryl! He's happily flirting away with everything that breathes directly in front of me. He knows I can see him, so he's doing it knowingly. That feels like enough to make me think he doesn't see me the way I see him."

You shoved yourself away from the table, a loud scraping sound ringing out as you stood up, your face becoming steely - a mask to hide the pain you were feeling.

"Sorry, Meryl, I'm gonna go to bed. I'll see you in the morning," You muttered over your shoulder before leaving the saloon altogether, not bothering to glance back at Wolfwood as you left. You figured the best thing you could do right now was go back to your hotel room, bury your face into your pillow, and scream until your throat was raw and your emotions could be contained again. Then, you could go back to your usual self.

However, what you hadn't noticed was a set of dark eyes watching you as you stood up and left the saloon. Wolfwood found himself frowning as you left - the expression on your face was one of discontent and hurt. While you wore a mask to hide your true feelings, you weren't that good. At least, not good enough to fool Wolfwood.

"What's up? You look kinda grumpy. That doesn't suit somebody as handsome as you!"

The person Wolfwood had been entertaining piped up, but Wolfwood's interest in them faded in the split second it took for you to leave the room.

"Yeah, yeah, thanks, it's been nice chattin' with ya," Wolfwood brushed the person off, turning on his heel and heading over to where Meryl was still sitting, leaving the person he had been talking to spluttering in confusion and outrage.

"What's up with (Y/N)?" Wolfwood asked, taking a seat next to Meryl, who just glared at him almost as hard as you had been glaring at him earlier, "Woah, what's with the look, little lady?"

"You're the biggest idiot I've ever met in my life," Meryl snapped at him, "Seriously, how can somebody like you be so blind?"

"Blind? Blind to what? And you're being real harsh there, little lady, take a breather before you keel over," Wolfwood replied, his tone cool and collected but hiding his genuine confusion at to what Meryl was referring to.

Meryl just stood up, continuing to glare at him as she just retorted, "(Y/N). You just love torturing them, huh? Making them watch you flirt with others when they've been waiting for you to turn around all this time. Does that make you happy, you psychopath?"

After a couple seconds, Meryl's eyes went wide, "Oh, crap. I wasn't supposed to say that." She frantically turned towards Wolfwood, "You didn't hear any of that, understood?!"

With that, Meryl turned and just about sprinted out of the saloon, leaving Wolfwood to his thoughts and to decipher what she had just let slip about you.

Wolfwood just sat there, staring down at his drink blankly as he tried to process what had just happened. Torturing you? Why would him flirting with other people torture you? Unless-?

Wolfwood's eyes suddenly went wide. There was no way - were you... into him? But how could that be?

You were such a confident individual, always sassing Wolfwood every time he called you "sweetheart" or "angel" or made remarks about you or Meryl or Vash. You had no issues butting heads with Wolfwood and standing up to his teasing and his banter, which was one of the reasons he liked you so much.

He found you breathtaking - you were somebody Wolfwood always wanted to protect, but he respected you and truly liked you for who you were, sass and all. However, your confidence and sass and the way you didn't even flinch whenever he flirted with you, even jokingly, made Wolfwood believe you didn't like him the same way he liked you. Unless...

"I really have been blind," Wolfwood muttered, before sighing and rubbing his face with his hand. Steeling himself, he chugged the last of his drink and stood up, his destination and goal clear in his mind - he was going to make his way straight to your room and he wasn't going to leave until he had spoken to you.

And Wolfwood did exactly that, walking all the way back to your hotel and knocking on your door with a closed fist. He could hear some quiet sniffling, and he felt his heart twist in his chest - were you crying? Because of him?

"Come on, sweetheart, don't leave me out here all night," Wolfwood called, trying to keep his tone teasing and light as he spoke through the door to you.

"Go away, Wolfwood."

Your voice was cold - surprisingly so. Wolfwood hadn't ever heard you sound like that in all the time he'd known you, even when you were mad. This was... something else.

He let out a slight sigh, letting his voice soften slightly, "Look, (Y/N), I know you're upset. I can hear it. I'm not leaving until you open this door, look me in the eye, and tell me to leave."

After a few moments, Wolfwood heard some shuffling behind the door, followed by the lock on your door opening and the doorknob turning as you opened the door.

Wolfwood felt his muscles twitch and he had to take a moment to stop himself from physically reacting to the sight of you - your eyes, oh, those beautiful eyes of yours were red and swollen. Tear tracks were evident on your cheeks and you were hiccupping softly as you looked up at him.

"Go away, Wolfwood. I don't... I don't want you here."

Your voice was quieter, less hard than before. It almost felt... empty. Wolfwood wasn't used to feeling his heart practically breaking in his chest - this expression on you, this empty quality to your voice, all of it was wrong.

"Is that the truth? If it's true, then send me away. Say it once again, and I'll leave."

Wolfwood's voice was equally quiet, surprisingly so, and serious. You couldn't bring yourself to look at him any longer, and you could feel your body beginning to shake.

'Don't cry. Don't you dare cry, (Y/N). Not in front of him,' You thought to yourself, refusing to look up at Wolfwood because you knew that if you did, you would begin to sob all over again.

You just heard a soft sigh come from Wolfwood, before a strong arm wrapped around your shoulders and pulled you so that you followed and found yourself back inside your room, door shut behind you and Wolfwood standing before you.

To your surprise, Wolfwood didn't speak a word for a surprisingly long time.

'I bet it's killing him,' You thought to yourself somewhat snidely.

However, after a few more moments of silence, Wolfwood did something that surprised you beyond reason - he stepped forward and slowly, but surely, wrapped his arms around you and pulled you into a hug.

Your eyes went wide as you felt Wolfwood embrace you - was this really happening?

"Oh, God, are you dying, Wolfwood?" You whispered hoarsely, trying not to make it evident that you were enjoying his embrace.

"Oh, shut it, sweetheart, I'm trying to be comforting and crap," Wolfwood snapped back, but you could tell from his tone that there was no heat behind it.

You let out a small laugh before allowing yourself to return his surprising embrace, "You're succeeding."

You could feel Wolfwood chuckle at your comment, his arms tightening around you a bit more as he became more comfortable with the idea of holding you.

"So, sweetheart, what's got you all riled up like this, huh?"

Wolfwood's tone was softer than you'd heard it - it was gentle and quiet, as if he were carefully treading around the topic and trying to initiate a dialogue with you, giving you a chance to open up to him if you felt comfortable to do so.

You took a deep, shaky breath, unsure if you were going to be able to bring up the truth of what upset you so badly to the man who had caused the upset.

"It was me. Wasn't it, (Y/N)? I got you this upset."

Wolfwood said it so suddenly and so seriously that you jerked backwards as if you had just experienced an electric shock, your eyes wide as you looked up at him.

A small chuckle escaped Wolfwood's lips, "I saw the way you were glaring at me all evening, sweetheart. You're not subtle. I also saw you leave after you spoke to Meryl, and you didn't look back at me as you left. I'm the reason you're upset."

His astute observations left you speechless. And so, you simply looked down, unable to look him in the eyes. How were you going to tell him the truth?

However, before you could even begin to start to put together an explanation, Wolfwood just continued, "You know, sweetheart, for what it's worth, I've still been a pretty blind idiot myself."

That caused you to look back up at him, your eyebrows furrowing, "What do you mean, Wolfwood?"

His signature smirk appeared on his face as he leaned down slightly, bringing his hand under your chin to tilt your face up so that your faces were now mere centimeters apart. You could feel the heat rising to your face as your eyes flitted down to his lips and then back up to his eyes. Another soft chuckle escaped his throat as he leaned down even closer until his lips were just barely brushing against yours, your heart thundering in your chest.

"You're mine, (Y/N). You're mine, and only mine. Got that, sweetheart?"

Before you could even answer, Wolfwood shifted slightly and closed the remaining distance between the two of you, his lips pressing up against yours fully in a passionate, heated kiss.

You found yourself reaching up to bury your hands in his dark hair, tugging him slightly so that you could kiss him deeper. After a few moments, Wolfwood strayed, his lips ghosting over your skin and leaving marks all the way across your jaw and down your neck, a soft moan escaping your lips with every mark Wolfwood left.

Once the two of you broke apart, each of you panting gently, you had a dazed look on your face and half a dozen dark, reddish-purple marks down the side of your neck, and Wolfwood's hair was now beautifully tussled, his lips slightly kiss-swollen - he looked more handsome than you'd ever seen him before. Could this really be happening?

With a growl, Wolfwood just pulled you closer to him, his lips already returning to yours with a hunger.

"Mine."

It was going to be one hell of a night.

[orcelito]

ok, i cant resist the urge to make a post about it after all, especially since it's related to a post i made prior

one of my favorite moments in trimax is By Far this part in chapter 35

[ID: Two pages from Trigun. The first starts with Wolfwood thinking, "Now that I think 'bout it, it may be one of the major differences between our species." That deep rooted dear I felt on the ship…" He thinks of Vash crying blood and, swearing, wonders, "Is he the one who can save humankind? That monster?" Wolfwood is briefly shown in resolution before someone calls, "Hey, Wolfwood!" and he looks up with surprise.

Vash sits with a smile at the edge of a rooftop, backed by the Fifth Moon and its prominent crater. Vash asks with a smile, "Just coming back now? You're a bit of a night owl, huh?" Wolfwood looks taken aback and wary. End ID]

Right Here. Vash is just sitting there, smiling like normal, but he's got the backdrop of the damage he caused on the moon set Perfectly behind him. it's a glaring reminder to Wolfwood of who exactly he's dealing with here, and that TERRIFIES him.

& the fact that Wolfwood still remembers that moment of crying blood as a moment of true fear. because for all the cheer Vash shows in the average moment, Wolfwood just recently saw him nearly lose control Again (at the Dragon's Nest). the second time he witnessed it, & the third time he would know about.

Vash is a walking atomic bomb with multiple charges. even with how cheerful & kind he is, he's shown Multiple Times that he does not have full control. he is decidedly something different, something Hazardous to humans, and Wolfwood knows this very very painfully.

for all that Wolfwood loves Vash, he is also terrified of him. and at this point in the story, that terror is potent enough to nearly eclipse his affection for Vash.

leading to some of the next most iconic pages:

[ID: The next page starts with Wolfwood standing behind the sitting Vash, his expression hard and the moon bright behind him. Vash seems sad and has one eye open. A close-up focuses on Wolfwood looking down.

Wolfwood thinks, "So easy to pull the trigger. So easy to remove half the problem." Another close-up with bright lighting obscures his face but for one eye. Then Vash turns around curiously and asks, "What's up?" Wolfwood sits behind him and says "Nothin'. Come on. Let's go." Vash seems surprised as Wolfwood scolds, "Don't get yerself tangled up in every little skirmish ya see. It'll be pointless if ya get yerself killed before ya meet him." End ID]

the manga frames it like Vash doesn't know Wolfwood was pointing the gun at him, but I think he did know. he's freakishly perceptive over and over again throughout the story. he HAS to be in order to survive like he has. he'd hear the movement of the gun & sense Wolfwood behind him...

he'd know. i really think he knew.

but he doesn't do anything about it. there is zero fear in his face. he turns to look at Wolfwood curiously, a bit confused, but not afraid. he never once thought that Wolfwood would shoot him. there's full faith and trust there in that moment.

Wolfwood pretends that nothing happened, & Vash lets him. they both move on, not talking about it, because they never talk about Anything of substance like this (not until much, Much later).

overall, it's just such a great example of their relationship's development. Wolfwood's fear & Vash's trust that he won't act on it... it's just. Man.

(EDIT: people have made some good points about how Vash's expression when Wolfwood points the gun at him shows that he probably did know and YEAH that's a good point! & probably why I was so certain he knew lol, I just hadn't realized it myself)

[iwritenarrativesandstuff]

Trimax Thoughts Vol. 3 Pt. 2

Oh boy. So this might be a little silly but I can't stop thinking about the face. I want to give my own interpretation of it because I did notice something earlier on that I think gives it a bit of context.

Yes, it's this face.

Ok. First off, this is undoubtedly a fond look. Unbearably fond, if you ask me. His eye is dark; there's no fear, shock, or feelings of being unsettled. There should be no contention at this point - he cares about Vash.

But the actual feelings expressed by this face are mixed. If you hold up your hand to cover the left side of his face, you'll find a closed eye and a smile. Cover the right side and you'll see an open, half-lidded eye and a small frown. The overall effect is conflicting.

All throughout this volume, Wolfwood has been struggling to come to terms with what Vash is, how he can have seemingly no survival instinct (which directly challenges his worldview), and, importantly, the concept of immortality.

We can split up this immortality concept into two types of immortality. The first is immortality of the self - that runs directly counter to the survival instinct that comprises much of the core of his worldview, and so entities that seem to display proof of immortality are unsettling to him (even more so in Vash's case, since somehow his pacifism survived all this time...).

Immortality of the self is disturbing yet possible to Wolfwood. It is something he can prove through mounting evidence and disprove with a gun. And to have Luida tell him that Vash's use of his immortality is not for healing or fixing himself but purely for others - that's important, because up until that point, Wolfwood had done mental gymnastics to convince himself that Vash could afford to jump into danger because of his immortality, something Vash even refuted earlier ("I don't do this for fun, you know.").

But Wolfwood is not fully convinced until he sees Vash's smile again.

Their entire dynamic started off with Wolfwood immediately noticing Vash's smile hides his pain - but what he's now realizing is that Vash's smile helps him move forwards in spite of the pain too. It's not a mask, it's his armour. It's his way of shielding himself in the same uncaring world they all inhabit. Vash's decision to choose kindness over and over then, isn't because his immortality means he can, but because it is necessary for his survival. It's not a whim, it's something he believes in. These are his ideals. They're genuine.

That's worth the right side's smile. He may still not understand what Vash is - but who he is, as a person, is rather straightforward.

And now, for the other type of immortality - immortality of ideals. Unfortunately, there is no wavering on this front, because there is no way to definitively prove that an ideal will survive, especially in a harsh world like this. Wolfwood's cynicism is on full display.

"Ya can keep on walkin' down this road 'til ya bite the dust. Nothin' will change."

To Wolfwood, ideals can never be immortal, not in a world like this. Vash's efforts seem fundamentally hopeless to a man with no hope.

And so, the left side of the expression; that bittersweet frown. Being unsure of Vash's intentions in the Ninelives scene, Wolfwood is able to appear rather darkly satisfied - he understands a truth of the world that Vash (apparently) does not. He's "won" the argument against Vash's apparently incomprehensible foolishness. Except then he comes to understand that Vash is genuine in his intentions and in his kindness, that he needs to believe in it himself, and suddenly there is no deriving any of this cynical satisfaction anymore.

Wolfwood is still convinced he's right, but now, that takes on a more tragic context.

Vash is good. His ideals are good. And, according to Wolfwood, nothing good lasts.

To me, this bittersweet expression reads as fondness from Wolfwood for Vash, for his kindness and persistence in the face of everything... but it's complicated by the certainty, in his eyes, that eventually, these ideals will die, either when he inevitably succumbs to the world's cruelty, or, what's seeming more likely at this point, when Vash dies himself.

Wolfwood has been sticking around closely with Vash. He might have to watch this happen. He doesn't want to watch this happen. But he thinks it's inevitable. Kind things don't grow.

...or I may just be dramatic and reading into it too much. But that's what I got from it.

[ultraviolet-cello]

Yo what's up it's me, ya boi, [horrendous infection that knocked me down for a couple days]

Anyway I'll be catching up episodes 3 4 and 5 tomorrow/day after, but for now I just wanna do my thing with ep 6. 6&7 are possibly some of my favourite episodes in Tristamp, so I'm hyped to show off my theories/details about them.

Once again spoilers for Trimax [HEAVY spoilers in this case, we're talking about Legato and Razlo]

TL;DR there's something fucked up with Tristamp Livio and by extension Razlo, and I need more of them all the time.

@tristampparty I'm back in the game!

So a lot of these theories and details will link to episode 7 :]

So of note in this scene is (obviously) Wolfwood's weird red eyes which. Pretty cool ngl. But I do think there's something to be said about the way he pauses and carries the Punisher in this scene; there's a pretty popular theory that Wolfwood gets extremely overstimulated when he takes a vial and the way he pauses and wobbles with the Punisher here is, for me, more evidence for the list.

Also that they won't give this man a CAR. Give him a Thomas or something??? I think it speaks to the dehumanization of Wolfwood by EOM that he doesn't seem to get to use transport like a normal person - always set to wander the desert, because he can survive that! Not like a normal person, of course. Only the Punisher is inhuman enough to do that.

I'll have what he's having [I love that Nightow's wanted poster gets in the magazine despite being. Yknow, 30 $$]

I'll talk about this more when I actually get round to analyzing episode 5, but Roberto calling out Vash's not-being-human and then immediately going "well I'm not risking my life for that" is interesting because he's, well, a reporter. It speaks to his experience that he's not willing initially to chase down something that could be a big scoop. But also,,,, Vash looks like. 20. Roberto is probably about in his 30s-40s, which means he's probably heard of Vash since childhood [Since Tristamp Vash has a much longer reputation history than Trimax/98]. I really wonder what Roberto thinks of that; did the picture not come as a shock to him, or did he already know? Does part of the reason he keeps letting himself be talked into following Vash stem from a lifelong curiosity? Much to think about.

This plant HAUNTS me. Why does she have such a different tank? Used to power the Ion Cannon, maybe, but there's the possibility people adjusted it so she can better power the sandsteamer and that's,,,, There's a complicated relationship between humans and plants (obviously), but little implications like those adjustments make me go !!!! [My friend @millions-dykes has a Plant Engineer oc, Enigma, who focuses on that concept. She's very cool]

LIVIO SIGHTED. Let me get this out of the way quickly, but y'know that panel that is often cited as inspiration for Tristamp Livio's design? Yeah that's. That's Razlo.

Which is really fucking funny to me because it's foundational to Tristamp Livio - love that for him, but trimax Livio specifically does not wield Punishers, and the page that this appears on is when Razlo is getting Livio to tell him he's the strongest (Which then goes into this training flashback montage page which is Razlo-centric). Which again, extremely funny to me.

Not necessarily analysis, but something all iterations of Trigun do great at is a sense of Scale. The sandsteamer is massive, yes, but so is the desert. There's some great shots with the moons later on, which I love as well.

Wolfwood really doesn't try and keep it secret, huh? I mean, in every iteration Vash Knows[TM], but tristamp Wolfwood in particular just,,, doesn't keep the secret. I wonder what other conversations they've had, when Wolfwood realized Vash knew.

Being always able to see Wolfwood's eyes gives him a layer of emotion that I really like - Trimax Wolfwood is a little more reserved, because he's more developed, further layered into those coping mechanisms and repressions that make up his character. Tristamp Wolfwood hasn't quite had that yet, and it's reflected in his design. It's sick as hell

Time for me to be so normal about Livio and Razlo ^_^ so I've built up a bit of a study case on the differences in when Livio or Razlo are fronting [Trimax], and once you start looking into paneling and shit it's Very apparent! Which is cool! And I'm starting to build up one for Tristamp Livio, which,,, well, you'll see. Anyway take note of his movements here - slow, even footsteps and steady guns.

The mask here is. Also a red flag for something being Off. The eye moving independently suggests that either they have some Weirder Than Usual Body Stuff going on, that Trimax Livio and Razlo can do that and nobody comments on it because they're being polite or - My theory - the mask having those electrical components are embedded somewhat in Livio's face. I will explain in just a second.

Livio as a kid being so upset about his parents interests me - In Trimax, Razlo kills Livio's parents because Razlo was formed as a protective alter due to heavy childhood abuse, and Livio doesn't seem too upset by that specifically, more just being,,, alone. I wonder what happened with their parents in this specific timeline, or if Razlo just hasn't presented yet.

Now I've uh. Kinda semi-intentionally blocked out some stuff I've read in the Bible, but I do remember someone being crucified upside down. St Peter that was it! I don't remember anything else but I'm sure people more well-versed in the Bible will have some imagery to point out lol

Legato's outfit seems a touch inspired by that one July flashback in Trimax. Which, given that Tristamp is a leadup to July, is a nice touch!

Legato might be a bit protective of his hair. Can't imagine why.

On a more serious note, it makes sense for Legato to have such a protectiveness around his body and physical appearance, especially if Knives had an influence in it.

sands undertal

I really do wonder what Legato's ability is in this. Like unless they retrieved Vash's arm from the. Wherever it got sucked into when it was amuptated they can't go the 98 route. But the wire explanation of Trimax also doesn't quite seem to fit. Something new, maybe. Could be related to Plants!

I wonder if Vash here is thinking about Rollo. That Wolfwood was willing to kill Rollo out of mercy, and he's going to do it again to Livio. Except this time, Wolfwood knows Livio. Vash doesn't know Livio, but Wolfwood does and it's going to hurt Wolfwood if Vash lets him carry on with this. So he goes to save Livio, and save Wolfwood as well. Similar to Trimax, where Vash kills Legato to save Livio as a remnant of Wolfwood's memory, Vash here could be protecting Livio to protect Wolfwood.

Okay here's where my crack theories come in. So I do think that Razlo is elbowing his way into front about here, not even necessarily because Livio is getting his ass handed to him, but because of the mask. He's probably not fully There, because the progressing fighting style continues in Livio's movements, but the eye changes are. Well, it's Livio and Razlo you can never be too careful.

So Livio hits the mask here and is down for the count for. A Bit. What's important here to me is that the mask does of course have an electrical component. Now, what would that be for? Well, gathering that Livio seemingly has a bit of trouble after this (early episode 7, this is a two parter theory), that the mask is used by EOM to force a switch remotely. After the mask seemingly malfunctions, we get a lot more Razlo-esque movements and traits in episode 7 before Livio seems to come back in and have his little meltdown.

It links in with both dehumanization of neurodivergent people (In this case, a system) and the usage of Razlo and Livio by EOM. Razlo's very often portrayed as Big Scary Murder Alter by EOM for scare factor, whereas when we get a bit more into Razlo's head in the Elendira fight we see a bit more what he's actually like - protective alter groomed into assassinhood by Chapel - and lends more understanding to the character. EOM being able to force trigger a switch would be viscerally horrifying for that loss of autonomy theme in a way that speaks to many neurodivergent people. Thanks for coming to my ted talk????

[aimfor-theheart]

im lurking but for prompt game jailbird + wolfwood (or vi 😜)

BESTIEEEE......now why the hell would you do this to me.

GODDD.

jailbird au + wolfwood

You sit and wait, watching the door, trying to be patient.

There's some commotion just beyond it, before it suddenly bursts open. And it's a riot of sound and movement for a moment, drawing all the visitors eyes.

The guards are wrestling and shoving one of the inmates. And he's snarling and trying to throw them off.

His mop of dark hair is longer than usual, shaggy and in his face. He's bristled, hackles high, and mean. Bared teeth. He shoves one of the guards off of him. They get rougher, converge on him a moment, before they subdue him once again.

It takes three of them, and even then, it's because the inmate no longer struggles.

They escort him over to the chair in front of yours, separated by glass.

And the moment Nicholas picks his head up and sees you, all the fight drains out of him, muscles going slack. Face going soft.

He slides into the seat once they let go of him.

Your eyes are on him, wide and unwavering.

Slowly, you pick up the phone. He does the same.

He cradles it in his big hand, knuckles bruised and scraped, and tucks his chin. He looks at you, and then he smiles, slow and warm. Horribly lovesick.

"How's my girl?" He murmurs, soft and low, so gentle compared to all his bite.

"Hi, Nick." You say back, leaning forward and he does the same on reflex. "'m alright—I miss you."

"I miss ya too, sweetheart." He responds, eyes like burning, dark moons as he gazes at you, "I miss ya real bad."

"Won't be long now." You say into the phone, just under your breath.

He tilts his head, looks at you steady, and then grins ear to ear. Wolfish.

"What have you planned?" He asks, soft and low and excited.

More commotion beyond the visitation room. Bigger this time, louder. More catastrophic. Right on time.

Your eyes flicker to it, then back to Nicholas. You smile, slow and sweet;

"Couldn't let them keep you, could I?"

Send me a trope/genre + a character and I'll write a drabble!

[guiltypleasureswriting]

Day 24: Written Apr 11, 2024

In the plant bulb, cradled among the plant’s leafy wings, was a baby. Vash gasped. Wolfwood stared. Rushing to the tank, Vash put his palms and forehead to the glass like Wolfwood had seen him do many times before. In response, the plant glided over and covered Vash’s points of contact on the barrier between them. As the plant markings wound around Vash’s body and painted a blue glow on his skin, the baby moved.

It was just repositioning, rolling around in the bulb liquid, but the movement attracted Wolfwood’s attention. The little thing was mostly unremarkable. It looked just like a human newborn, but it was definitely not human; because the thing that made it different than a normal baby was the plant markings covering every inch of it’s skin. Just like Vash and it’s plant mother. 

After a few minutes, Vash pulled away from the bulb. “She needs help.” Wolfwood grunted.

“The plant or the baby thing?”

“Don’t call him a thing!” Scolded Vash.

“Sorry, sorry. So what’s the issue?”

“The baby. He’s an independent.”

Wolfwood stared. “Like you?” Vash nodded. “How does that even happen without a shit ton’a old tech?”

“No one really knows how we happened. The first wa-” Vash swallowed. “Well there was only one before us, and she died. But we were never born on purpose. I sorta figured independence would only be born in certain conditions that don’t exist off a ship. Guess I was wrong.”

“Guess ya’ were. But what do we have ta’ do about this?” 

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Not regulus & harry today but still accidentally acquiring a baby cuz I eat that shit up