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scoundrels-in-love · 1 year ago

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If this is communication, I disconnect (I need you, you want me, but I don't know how to connect)

Vash does as he promised - he comes back. But he doesn’t come back to her. To anyone at all. Not even himself. It’s just a shade of him which haunts her apartment and the December streets, clad in anonymity provided by his pitch black hair, new coat in a darker shade and glasses that are far too reminiscent of Wolfwood’s to not set an ache in her chest each time Meryl sees him put them on. VashMeryl with references to VashWood and MashWood | On AO3 | | Grief | Emotional Hurt/Comfort | Angst with Hopeful Ending | Lack of Communication | Sometimes talking is hard but the silence is even harder |

Vash does as he promised - he comes back.

But he doesn’t come back to her. To anyone at all. Not even himself.

It’s just a shade of him which haunts her apartment and the December streets, clad in anonymity provided by his pitch black hair, new coat in a darker shade and glasses that are far too reminiscent of Wolfwood’s to not set an ache in her chest each time Meryl sees him put them on.

At first, she does all she can think of to tether him - tries to talk with him and gives him space when all he gives her is silence or feeble attempts at distraction in response, comes home early to cook a meal or take him to her favorite diners, brings donuts and easy chatter from the office.

But as days stretch into weeks and weeks into months, Meryl finds herself slowing, like she is gradually bleeding out from all the falls she’s taken in her attempts to get through or across, or even under, the walls Vash has enclosed himself in. She is afraid he will suffocate in there, but nothing she does seems to give him even a pinhole of relief.

And ever so gradually, she catches herself stalling going back to her apartment (she’d briefly thought they’d end up calling it theirs) after work, unwilling to play the game of guessing if he will be there, waiting for her with a hollow smile as he tends to the the tree sapling he brought with him, or if he will be gone. Perhaps for the last time.

“Mr. Vash needs time. Just let him know that you’ll be there when he is ready to talk,” Milly says sweetly, thoughtfully, after she catches Meryl curled up at her desk, stifling sobs in the quiet office long after everyone else has gone home. “He needs you more than ever, Ma’am.”

Meryl doesn’t think that’s true - it’s her that has always needed, wanted him and it hardly feels different now. She is the one that lays awake at night, listening into the darkness and wondering if he’ll wake crying and if he will let her comfort him. He hasn’t since the first weeks he spent there - the only sign of his nightmares and pains that he doesn’t manage to hide is the redness of his eyes in the mornings.

She hopes he doesn’t see the same on her. (Knows he does.)

Every now and then, she gathers all her determination and makes another attempt to reach Vash and, sometimes, it almost feels like they are getting somewhere - sharing a laugh that sounds mostly sincere or allowing their shoulders to rest together as they eat in silence that feels companionable, not like a cold desert night’s wind. Sometimes, it is almost like he is on the brink of actually telling her of those months, those goodbyes she didn’t get to witness, but then she watches his gaze drift somewhere away, inward and she knows she’s lost him, again.

It’s all she does these days.

She is tired - of missing him, of chasing after him as if he was halfway across the world from her, not on the other end of her couch, drumming fingers in an uneasy rhythm on his knees before springing up and giving an excuse for why he must go out.

It comes to a head one evening when they sit at her small kitchen table, feet carefully arranged not to touch, sharing dinner. The ever-permeating heaviness in her chest expands, gets stuck in her throat, when she thinks she might as well be sitting here with a stranger, with how little she knows about what Vash thinks or does these days.

“Have you thought about going to Ship Three?” The words pour out of Meryl before she can think through for a third time if she should say them.

He looks like a man who has been slapped, but has been expecting it. And she doesn’t know which part makes her heart sting worse.

It will not be less painful from here, she knows.

“Why do you ask?” Vash deflects and, for once, she’s almost, almost grateful. Because a yes might’ve made her cry, like a confirmation that it’s only the promise keeping him here. But now the ball is back in her court, she has to be the one to say the cold and cruel things that she doesn’t want to, but has to.

Meryl tries to start it off gently, at least: “Luida wrote they all miss you, didn’t she? It’s been a while since you’ve stopped by.”

Vash ceases poking at the food on his plate, puts the fork and knife down with measured movements and proceeds to punch the air out of her lungs with his next words: “Do you want me to leave?”

“No.” Her voice breaks and she swallows thickly before continuing. If only that could be the whole answer.

“No. I don’t want you to. But I think it might be better if you did.”

When Vash says nothing, she, too, gives up on the pretense of eating and clutches her hands tightly in her lap as she lifts her eyes to look at his carefully blank face. It’s a kind of emotion on its own.

“I love you, Vash,” she says and with his sharp inhale, realizes this is the first time she’s said it out loud to him, but she can’t pause, can’t hesitate or she will do something foolish, like asking if he -, “but I don't think staying here is helping you.”

He remains silent and the heaviness in her chest begins to tip over into an aching frustration. She’s once again talking to a wall that has somehow found itself placed in her kitchen, in her life.

“I can’t do this anymore. I’ve tried everything I know and then some and yet you’ve never felt further from me than now. All these months and you haven’t trusted me with a single shred of your pain.”

Meryl stands up, the sound of her chair scraping against the floor jarring. There isn’t enough space for her to pace, so she stands there, hands clenched and, for once, at the same eye level as Vash who is slumped in his seat. The frustration is stoked into anger by his continuous silence, a want to shake something, anything, out of him taking over. Between it all, the bitterness steeped in the cracks and divots of her heart for months rises like bile and spills out.

“Hell, you won’t even tell me about Wolfwood. As if it’s only your grief and you’re the only one who loved him, just because-”

(Because there was never time and place for me to love him in stolen moments like you could. Because your fingers carry the memory of his warmth and of his coldness once death took its due. Because you feel like you could’ve prevented it, where I could have never made a difference in his borrowed time.)

He flinches at that, and for a second, Meryl feels satisfaction. It’s not fair, she knows. But she is so tired of being thoughtful, when she has to cradle this abyss with her ribcage while Vash acts as if none of this impacted her, as if she’s a stranger that he cannot bear to burden with even a glimpse of the whole story. It’s hers, too, for fuck’s sake.

All these years spent chasing after him (them), loving him (them), all the horrors that have broken her to pieces from which she had to rebuild on her own, all this time being considerate since he came back, all this time grieving one man she never said goodbye to and one she did not know if she'd see again (and has she?) and here they are, or rather, are not.

“You just… Exist here,” Meryl says, her voice cracks between anger and the first burn of tears.

Vash’s hands twitch as if he wants to reach for her and she wishes he would, but then stillness takes him again and without an anchor, she is pulled deeper into this dark place where she can’t breathe, can’t think. Every fearful, painful thought she's tried to swaddle and keep contained in the long, lonely hours of nighttime comes forth, tears through and out of her.

"I don't understand why you're even here, if you're not letting me in. Or even near you."

Her voice is watery in a way Meryl hates and her fists tighten to the point it feels like her skin will split over her knuckles, baring the bones as she is baring her pain.

"If it's the promise, if I am just an obligation you're regretting and don't know how to deal with… I can release you from it."

There is a soft, almost whimper-like sound from Vash and she forces herself to look at him, take in the handiwork of her own hurt spun together with the cruelty of voicing it like this.

His expression is no longer blank and she doesn't - doesn't feel like she knows him enough anymore to decipher emotions there, but it looks a lot like devastation. And she regrets it. Regrets shooting him point blank when he is already down. (Part of her is surprised that she could, that somewhere beneath his numbness, he did, does care.) Regrets because she's torn herself to pieces in the process, too. But she's been doing that since he came back, inch by inch every day, so maybe now she can finally start healing. Even if it scars and knits all wrong.

Meryl unclenches her fists and her fingers ache as she wipes at her face, smearing the tear streaks. The silence around them feels stretched and blurred the same way.

"What do you want me to do?" Vash asks when she is so close to begging him to say something, even if it is to call her a horrible, cruel, unfeeling thing. (He wouldn't even be wrong.) His voice is quiet, shuddering and makes more tears spill down her cheeks.

She has to bite her lip, so hard that blood floods her mouth, so she doesn't start sobbing outright. He sounds so lost, like nothing makes sense anymore, like he wants her to give him a path to walk on because he’s never had the luxury of such a choice, only a burning, damned destination waiting.

And she could - there are so many things Meryl wants for him. She wants Vash to let her learn to love him, every broken, jagged-edged piece that doesn’t fit together anymore and that he’s kept concealed, she wants him to mourn all the way to the bottom of the ravine that cleaves him in half and be next to him as he does, she wants him to let himself eat and savor it again, she wants him to laugh again one day, she wants him to be kind to himself for once, wants him, wants him, wants him-

But most of all, she wants him to want any of it. Want her. Anything. She won’t be the next person to take up the mantle of dictating his life, even if it’d be easier for him.

"I want you to live. To learn what that means for you.” Her voice sounds thin to her own ears, bending under the weight of her intent, her breaking heart as she continues: “And I don't know if you can start that here."

Vash curls forward, burying his face in his hands for a moment, and Meryl feels like collapsing on the kitchen floor next to his chair. Maybe they can cry together, just this once. But then he is raising his head again, expression shuttered once more as he nods: "Okay."

And then he stands up and leaves.

Not for the last time, not yet. But she feels like it might as well be.

In two days, Vash is standing at the door of the apartment that was almost theirs. His satchel rests by the doorjamb, as does the basket to be strapped on his back, in which he so carefully has placed the tree seedling.

If she doesn’t say something now, he will turn and leave with barely a goodbye and it will be another bead of regret in the adorned string that is slowly choking her. They’ve scarcely spoken since that evening, not even tiny pleasantries, and Meryl needs him to know that she isn’t casting him out, that she doesn’t hate him. But she can’t think of any words to convey it.

“My couch will always be available for you,” she says instead. He regards her quietly and Meryl hopes he finds only sincerity and none of the desperation for him to take her up on the offer some day.

Vash nods softly and she feels the seconds ticking by, heavy with their mutual hesitation.

“Can I…” Meryl inhales deeply, bracing herself for the way this will turn her inside out and the very real possibility of his rejection, “can I hug you?”

Vash’s lips part in muted surprise and then he slowly spreads his arms and she throws herself at him, before he has time to reconsider.

Her arms slide beneath his coat, clutching at the back of his dark shirt and Meryl presses her face into his chest, hoping that the heat of him will dry up the first well of tears in her eyes. It doesn’t.

Vash’s hand comes to cradle the back of her head as the other wraps around her shoulders, tentatively at first and then almost crushing as the first sob shudders through her body. This is the closest they’ve been in this half a year they’ve spent living so close it was almost together.

It’s a thought that wrings another sob out of Meryl, loud enough that she almost misses Vash’s whisper.

“I love you.”

She stills, not even breathing, unsure if she imagined it. Vash's hands tighten around her as he bends over her awkwardly, pressing his face into her hair.

“I love you," he repeats, now at a volume that does not permit mistakes of mishearing, not even with the tremble in his voice, "Wolfwood told me to take good care of you and look at what I’ve done.”

“He should have stayed and made sure you do, then,” Meryl says, swaying deeper into Vash's arms with an angry longing for what could have been.

It is the first time they've spoken of Wolfwood like this, like he - or the lack of him - is something they can let into the room with them, acknowledge together. Like he was a person, not a wound with a face. Part of her fears Vash will push her away for it.

Instead, she feels him nod: “Yeah. Yeah, he should have.”

And then Vash is slowly sliding down, crumbling on his knees, as he holds her still. He buries his face in her shoulder and she feels the sobs shaking his body before she hears them.

Her arms shift to wrap around his shoulders and she thinks how frail he feels in this moment, like a teenage toma whose bulk is mostly feathers and posturing, though she knows, knows the strength of his body and heart goes beyond that of any human.

She's seen it, has had it written across every nerve ending in her body as his memories and his feathered weight crushed her, has feared it and has had to untangle her own overwhelming fragility from it. And in the same way, she knows the pain and the guilt that runs through Vash like a river system that she's read used to define humanity itself once upon a time on Earth, knows every loss since then has only added a new stream. Knows he's been drowning this whole time in the ocean where all the rivers meet.

So she holds him, hopes it's enough to keep him afloat if only for a moment, and cries with and for him.

They stay like that, clinging to each other like the only way to remain upright for themselves is to make sure the other doesn't collapse, for a time that might be hours or infinity or maybe just a handful of minutes, ached to the bottom of every second.

Eventually, Vash's sobs subside and so do Meryl's and then the silence is only interrupted by a sniffle or hiccup from one of them in the aftermath. She is afraid again, of what comes next, or what doesn't.

Her fingers tread through the soft hairs on his nape, one final indulgence before she has to take the next and perhaps the last step. Meryl draws a deep, shuddering breath, her voice hoarse on exhale: "Do you want me to let go now?"

Vash is still in her arms, has been for a while now as if he's forgotten that he is supposed to need to breathe now that it's uncomfortable after crying. And yet, it feels like the question freezes him. They both know it's not just about ending this embrace.

Her heart beats so painfully loudly in her chest, it must sound like a drum to him. Five beats, six beats, seven - please, end this agony, she thinks. I've been saying this goodbye for so long, I can't endure the waiting for it any more.

"No..." He sounds unsure, like a child that doesn't know what answer the teacher wants to hear, so he gives the one he's got and prays it's the correct one. It punches a pained sound out of her as she turns her head and presses her lips to his temple, a few quick tears racing down her face.

"Then I won't," she tells him, finds a way to somehow embrace him tighter still. It hurts her arms, hurts where the metal plates and wires on his body press into her, but she will take these pains of imprinting, of becoming his mirror gladly.

He looks at her then, truly looks at her, with intent and without flinching away when she meets his gaze. She stays in that moment, tries to write her heart across her features, but knows even a novel wouldn't be enough to convey it.

They remain silent for a long while, just allowing themselves and the other to look, until a bitter sort of absurdity comes to Meryl. "Why can we only be honest when you're about to leave?" she asks, softly, and finally lets go of him enough to bring one of her hands to cup Vash's face, thumb stroking across his cheek, wiping at the drying tear tracks.

He leans into her touch, eyes fluttering half shut, as if he can't bear to stop looking at her, and it makes her heart drop into some weightless space. His voice is quiet, mournful: "I don't know. Maybe it's that I don't know how to stay."

Then his expression shifts, the determination in it akin to the one she'd seen during countless hopeless fights and situations he'd turned into something else, something better with sheer want to. "But I want to try. Being honest while staying."

"Me too," she promises, because her heart's truth often comes too late and too loudly.

Meryl doesn't know if they will ever truly leave this in-between space, where the shadows of parting are so bitingly stark against the too bright, scorching suns of possibilities, where goodbyes swirl around them like dust and sand almost constantly.

But, she thinks, if they can move even a little closer to the edge, to peace, maybe they can settle down. They both have lived in colder and lonelier places, after all.

#trigun #trigun stampede #vashmeryl #my fic #rainy writes stuff

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chris-continues · 1 year ago

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If it’s any consolation..

A Vashwood college AU drabble made for @macncherries !! <33 tysm for allowing me to try smth out of my comfort zone! I don’t usually write canon x canon but this was rlly nice :)

TAGS: @lune010 @vashfantasy @captaintweet @linkdedruid @sortatiredartist

Within the crummy walls of Wolfwood’s shared apartment, Vash seeks comfort.

Him, muscled arms and a self assured yet tired, cocksure grin. Someone to return to when Nai gets out of hand, when life is too overbearing and his assignments begin to pile up more than they should. It’s exhausting, carrying the expectations of yourself. Constantly seeking penance because the pain of each day is so present it’s a consistent buzz, never lifting from his shoulders.

Perhaps the most reprieve he gets is when he’s with him.

Their usual banter is swept aside when Nicholas opens the door to his crestfallen expression. A curt, “come here,” is muttered, the door closing with a resounding thud.

As per usual, cups litter the coffee table, a pathway cleared for the ashtray set down in the center. The couch is thrifted, but well picked. Livio had a good eye when selecting it. Nicholas was never one for interior decorating, that much was for sure.

“Make yourself at home- you know the drill.” Nick rolled his shoulders, fanning his loose tank momentarily.

“Thanks again.” Vash mumbles, staring down into his lap. “I really do appreciate it.”

“No need to go thanking me- it’s what I’m here for, eh?” He slung an arm around his boyfriend, arm set and heavy yet ever so comforting. Vash sighs, leaning into his touch. Yet, a solemn look paints his face, to Wolfwood’s dismay.

“Hey, look, been glad you’re coming to me when you need it. Don’t feel guilty, needle noggin.” He nudged him playfully, head turned towards him. “Again, what I’m here for.” He reassured.

Vash exhaled, head heavy as he rested his head against Nick’s shoulder. He’d been making progress, running the words through his head on repeat. It was ok to lean on Nick, to not push him away with a joyous smile and a cheeky laugh, to show him his burdens and share them with him. Nai cursed him out on dating him, swearing Nick was good for nothing and unworthy of his time. He knew better though- well, he knew that Nai wanted the best for him, but Nick was the best.

Nick cooked for him when he came over, knowing he didn’t normally eat properly. Even though Nick never really cooked proper meals for himself. He helped him with assignments- though that usually ended up with playful bickering and Meryl telling them to shut up so their study group isn’t kicked out of the campus library. He loved him, through and through. Even if Vash himself hadn’t fully processed that, he understood the weight it held. An immeasurable amount, surely.

“You want something to eat, drink..?” His voice drifted off, uncertainty stopping the words in his throat.

“Uh uh.” Vash shook his head, moving to wrap his arms around Nick and curl into his side. “Want you right here. Please.” He pleaded softly.

“Don’t worry, ‘m not going anywhere blondie.” He murmured, kissing his hair.

#trigun #trigun stampede #chris writes #vash the stampede #vash x wolfwood #Vashwood #nicholas d wolfwood #canon x canon #college au #college au wolfwood #college au vash #Trigun college au

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huginsmemory · 6 months ago

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Fic authors self rec! When you get this, reply with your favorite five fics that you've written, then pass on to at least five other writers. Let's spread the self-love 💞

Omg thank you for the ask!!! 💕 Damn, I don't know which to really choose. I take so long to write anything that I find it hard to judge things; and especially as then years have gone by regarding my posted and finished fanfics it makes me difficult to choose. For fanfics I really have a bunch of fandoms I've periodically cobbled something together (as a result each fic rec is from a different show) and many I haven't read in years; but I've quite enjoyed the chance to go back and actually read them.

#1 - Blackbird series (Trigun (Trimax), Vashwood)

Ahhh this doesn't count as two right? It's my most recent work composed of Blackbird (M, 5.5k) and I'm no pale faced saint (E, 11k) both which I really enjoyed writing. Blackbird is vignettes of Vash and Wolfwoods relationship (if they were lovers) over the course of trimax. I'm no pale faced saint is a story tucked sometime within the same au when Wolfwoods and Vash are travelling, and during their stop Wolfwoods is asked to perform a funeral; later the two of them talk about promises in amongst foreshadowing of what will later occur and sexy times. It was also the first time I forayed into writing explicit fanfic which was certainly interesting and perhaps fun? Still not sure haha. Both are pretty bittersweet. Technically it's supposed to be a triptych, with a third and final installation which I've... not finished writing. Fingers crossed I'll get around to having some time to finish it eventually... It's all planned out so I just need to sit down and write the damned thing.

#2 - Tracing Ink on Skin (JJK, Satosugu, M, 34k)

A yakuza au fic that I'm still working on, that I originally started because there was none of those fics when the first season had come out. The premise is they were schoolmates, and lose touch after, Satoru the next in line for the head of one of the big Yakuza families, only to be reunited when Suguru finds Satoru bleeding out on his doorstep. I'm reccing it cause it's a bit newer. It's also my first long fic which is exciting but also haunts me a bit since it's also definitely not a priority, since I keep neglecting to write new chapters... shoves my 10 newer WIP fanfics into the drawer guiltily. Again I've got the whole thing planned out, I just need to actually write it. Also part of me wants to rewrite some areas, ack!

#3 - Chain Restaurants and the Beginnings of Friendship (Dorohedoro, Risu x Aikawa, T, 3.5k)

Also in the scheme of things newer... Premise is the two of them go for lunch right after Aikawa kills the teacher. I like this one with it's fun twist and actually intended it as a part of a series of short vignettes, as I had more ideas... as you can see I'm great at finishing things. I've heard there's supposed to be a second season of Dorohedoro coming out which might help kick me back into the mood. I really should trawl through my WIP files...

#4 - Warm Lights on Sleepless Nights. (Golden Kamuy, SugumotoxOgata, G, 3k)

Premise is it's a vignette of a modern au of Sugumoto essentially waking up from a nightmare, and remembering the time that Ogata was also awake at the same time before his betrayal, and the possible implications of that.

#5 - Antiform Haunting (Gotham, Edward Nygma x Oswald Cobblepot, T, 3k)

Premise is on some unseen scenes after Ed betrays Oswald, and dreams of him, leading up to the scene where Ed hallucinates Ed. I liked this one better then the other, softer fic I had written on the pair, which more people seemed to have enjoyed; how funny.

I'm ignoring how clearly all the pairs I write for are tragic character relationships (or perceived relationships lol) here. Nope, I don't know what you're talking about, I totally am not addicted to bittersweet or sad writing.

#hugin speaks #hugin rambles #hugin writes #asks #hugin replies #fic rec #author fic recs

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tetraharmonic · 1 year ago

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Run To You | A Vashwood Songshot

Song: Run To You by Pentatonix

Pairings: Tristamp Vashwood

Content Warnings: Hurt/Comfort, mentions of death

Overview: Vash doesn't return to the hotel room after an argument between him and Wolfwood. Wolfwood, having trouble suppressing his feelings for Vash, runs out into the night in the hopes of finding him and reconnecting with his friend/crush/unofficial partner.

Note: This is the first time I've actually written these two outside of roleplays so, please be gentle. I do accept constructive criticism though! I gotta learn somehow! :P I'm also writing this with a massive gash across my hand, and so, I apologize for typos. I have a feeling I missed some, but, at this point, I've decided to say "screw it, no beta, we die like men."

Enjoy!

A light in the room, it was you who was standing there; tried it was true as your glance met my stare. But your heart drifted off, like the land split by sea. I tried to go, to follow, to kneel down at your feet.

It was a soft sort of silence that haunted the empty hotel room that Wolfwood had called his own for the past few weeks. Soft, but miserable, even. The air was still, not even punctuated by the soft, turning of the pages of whatever book Meryl was most interested in at the time, nor the drunken ramblings of Roberto that slipped in through the cracks of the doors once the suns went down.

Vash's box of donuts still rested exactly where they'd left them, some of his dirty clothes still in a heap on the floor. Nicholas eyed them with a solemn sigh, his cracked, dry lips falling into a weak frown. Oh, how he wished things could be different. He'd endure the experiments for just a while longer if it meant he could've stuck to Vash's ideals and gotten everyone out of there safely. He'd tried to uphold them for so long, but at the very last moment, instinct took hold. A lapse of judgement took over Nicholas' mind as he shot to kill, no, shot to protect.

They'd fought like this before, with Rollo, but it was far different now. Vash hadn't come home.

I'll run, I'll run

I'll run run to you

I'll run, I'll run

I'll run run to you

Wolfwood wanted to be stubborn, but still, sitting in this damn hotel room was killing him. Where had Vash ran off too? Why had he let Vash run off so easily? And why did he care so much? In a word like theirs, love was meaningless; love couldn't stop a bullet— it could only change who endured the pain. Besides, Vash, of all people, knew how dangerous No Man's Land could be; he should know that instincts are hard to control, especially when your friends' lives were at stake. Screw ideals, a foul memory could be replaced. A life could not.

I've been settling scores. I've been fighting so long, but I've lost your war, and our kingdom is gone. How shall I win back your heart which was mine? I have broken bones and tattered clothes. I've run out of time.

Throwing his loafers on, Wolfwood barreled his way out the hotel room, only just barely remembering to grab the key on his way out. "Damn it, Needle Noggin! Don'cha know what the buddy system is?" He grumbled to himself as he practically shoved his way to the outskirts of town. His shirt was unbuttoned, the shadows on his face painted so sleepily onto his skin. He was exhausted, but he didn't care. He wouldn't care, not until Vash was safe.

Who was he to be so selfish? Vash was his own man, and quite frankly, he had every right to be mad at him. Still, frustration and sorrow burned a hole in Wolfwood's stone-cold heart. Did he feel a special way for the blond? Perhaps a little more than he wanted to admit. But there was no way that his feelings alone would ever be strong enough to protect the Stampede, if the Stampede even needed his help to begin with. In a way, he hoped that maybe Vash really did need him, even if only to carry a conversation in the slow moments between towns. It'd make the bullet wounds and the bitter serum worth it millions of times over.

I'll run, I'll run

I'll run run to you

I'll run, I'll run

I'll run run to you, oh

The moment Wolfwood's eyes fell upon the man he so desperately searched for, relief washed over him, sloppy and unreasonably heavy. He couldn't help but feel ridiculous as the smile crept it's way onto his face, and so, without a word, he climbed up onto the rock beside him, sitting down and gazing up at the night sky with him.

Vash broke the silence, drawing into himself anxiously. He called his friend's name sl softly, it almost sounded like the wind. "Wolfwood..."

"Needl-...." Nicholas froze, clearing his throat before responding with a hint of resolve. "Vash."

"You didn't have to come out here. I'll be fine." The blond smiled, though Wolfwood could see right through it.

"Of course I had to. Who else is going to keep you out of trouble, huh?" He nudged Vash with his elbow, earning a quiet chuckle. No matter how small it was, it was still a victory.

I will break down the gates of heaven. A thousand angels stand waiting for me.

"Look, Needle Noggin... I'm sorry, okay? It wasn't intentional."

"I know it wasn't..."

"I know you know, but... You're thinking it's your fault. That you're some sort of horrible person for not being able to save them all. It's not your responsibility to be some hero all the time, yknow?"

Vash only hummed out in response.

Wolfwood continued. "I'm making it my responsibility to protect you. I'm nothing like god, but I'll damn sure break down the pearly gates if I've gotta. Got it though your thick skull? I'm not gonna just let some crook shoot you or our little group."

Ooh, take my heart, and I'll lay down my weapons. Break my shackles to set me free.

"You, and the rest of our little band of idiots, are far too important to me. I'm not just going to let you die, no matter how many times you try to convince yourself that you deserve the pain you've been given."

"Wolfwood, you don't-"

I'll run run to you

"I know I don't have to. Just, shut your pretty little lips and listen to me, okay? I'm only saying this once, so you better catch it now. You're an idiot, but you're our idiot. In some other life, maybe we could just sit around and do taxes, or whatever townspeople do. But in this life, I'm standing by your side, even if it gets your panties in a bunch. You've shown this man of god that faith still exists. It's about damn time I pay it back, got it?"

Vash nodded his head, the two sitting in a comfortable, yet solemn sadness.

I'll run, I'll run

I'll run run to you

"Do you really mean it...?" Vash whispered, his voice weak as his eyes welled up with tears that refused to spill.

I'll run (I'll run), I'll run (I'll run)

"Of course I do, Needle Noggin..."

I'll run run to you

"Now...let's go home, okay?"

"Yeah... that sounds good."

#vashwood #vashwood fanfic #vash tristamp #vash the stampede #tristamp #nicholas d wolfwood #nicholas d. wolfwood #wolfwood #wolfwood tristamp #vash x wolfwood #hurt/comfort #tetraharmonic #Spotify #trigun songshot #songshot

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starkskypines · 1 year ago

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but for some, it was paradise

written for day 7 of swoon june: dancing

this would not be here if @the-13th-battalion did not post a vashwood snippet that inspired me to write this <33 much love to you, emma dear, for continuing to write amazing words!

>>>

Cas moves his hips in beat with the music as he washes the dishes. He’s not one for dancing, not really, but swaying his body with the music is relaxing. It’s one of those human things he never understood until he suddenly did. It’s like love or rain. They both are familiar concepts but they take on an entirely different meaning within the human context. Humans like to play with love and throw it around like it’s a baseball, not caring for what shatters along with way. Humans like to stand outside in the pouring rain until they’re soaked to the skin and still stay outside longer.

Cas is not human, but he understands them now in ways that he hasn’t before. He credits that to Dean.

Dean is pouring rain on the windshield of an old car, and music playing in the kitchen of an old bunker. Dean is love wrapped up in anger and pain.

As the beat of the music continues and Cas lets his body fall into the music, he thinks of what it would be like to be loved by the force that is Dean. Dean would drown his lover. Dean perhaps has drowned his past lovers. Drowned them or left them in drought. His love is not something that can be simply human and yet it is because Dean is human. But Dean is also a torrential downpour, a hurricane spinning in the Atlantic. He would not drown Cas, but Cas wouldn’t survive the winds to get to the rain.

Dean will not allow himself to be loved now.

Cas can understand that. The appeal of drought to a desert, but Cas believes he could convince Dean that to be loved is worth the pain of loss. To Cas, it certainly is. He loves Jack and he’s lost Jack, and he’s found Jack, and lost him and–well it goes on and on. It’s painful, yes, but it’s worth it. The rainforest may leave the dead to rot instead of burn, but the richness of the living is worth it.

Cas would let his skin and bones rot and rot and rot. He’d let the bugs come and the fungus grow, and it would be worth getting to spend his life in the sticky humidity and tap tap tap of rain.

He supposes this is why they are fundamentally different. Like sunshine and midnight rain. Cas wants and Dean will not allow himself to.

read on ao3

#SwoonJune2023 #supernatural #fanfiction #day 7 #dancing #spn #destiel #deancas #destiel fic #hopeful ending #my writings

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the-13th-battalion · 1 year ago

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Rules: shuffle your 'on repeat' playlist and post the first ten tracks, then tag ten people.

Woooooo!! Thank you @faelwenholdsthelight for the tag!!! Took me ages because I am ✨forgetful✨

1. What Was I Made For? by Billie Eilish - aw dang hit in the feels right away lmao

2. Knives's Piano from the Trigun Stampede soundtrack - IS ANYONE SURPRISED BY THIS BECAUSE I AM NOT 😂

3. Perhaps Love by John Denver - nawwwww a cute song, v nice to listen to

4. Follow Me by John Denver - uhm listen, his music is Vashwood flavored ok uhhhh-

5. I, Carrion (Icarian) by Hozier - BRUHHH THIS SONG I need to lay on the floor

6. Hero's Come Back!! by nobodyknows+ - yes I am listening to Naruto openings in the Year of Our Lord 2023 teehee

7. evermore by Taylor Swift ft. Bon Iver - oh finally TAYLOR SWIFT!!!! <333

8. Love of Mine by Imagine Dragons - love me some ID in these trying times

9. Francesca by Hozier - his music!!! is very!!!! HHHHHGHGHFGDGD

10. Enchanted by Taylor Swift - hhhhh!!!!!! help!!!!! fave song for sure

Well this was unsurprising lmao 😂😂 and fun to do!!! Tagging anyone who sees this and wants to do it plus some no pressure tags @starkskypines @artsy-dreamer @skywalker-tano-kenobi

#THANK YOU!!!!#love sharing music

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kidsomeday · 2 years ago

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Files Names:

Vashwood Week Day 6

You're Nobody 'Til Somebody Wants You Dead

Scar Tissue (That I Wish You Saw)

Soft Vashwood Fic

TMA Confession Fic the Sequel

My Snippet, from Vashwood Week Day 6

"When Nicholas D. Wolfwood learned this story as a child, he had no idea that one day he would become part of it; that his own tale would be woven into the legends that would be told around campfires and to small children held tight in snug blankets. He had no idea that one day he’d end up with skin scarred by both twins, one a brand of ownership forged through agony and the other a mark of companionship forged through love. The importance of his fate was unknown to him. Perhaps that was for the best. While all children dream of making their mark on history very few understand the pain it takes to get there- and Wolfwood would come to understand pain in a way that very few can and none would envy. But for all his future importance, the story of his origins are almost unknown. Not many know of who he was before he became the crown’s Punisher- and later, the Chief Minister of the Dark Throne. Not many know that he came from an orphanage, or that his age is deceiving thanks to rituals conducted deep under the castle, so deep that even the worst rumors stop floors above. There are, perhaps, only two people who know that his very first memory was of kindness."

WIP Wednesday Game

It’s WIP Wednesday, time for a little accountability, sharing your work, and getting a kick in the pants.

Here’s how it works:

In a reblog (or new post w/ rules attached), post up to five (5) filenames of your WIPs; not titles, file names.

Post a snippet from one of them. Snippet must be words you wrote in the last 7 days. We’re posting progress here. If you haven’t made any, go make some and come back to post!

After you’ve posted, people can send you an ask with one of your file names. You must then write 3 sentences in that file. If the filename is one you can't share from (for example, an event fic), write 3 sentences on it anyway, and then 3 more on another to share.

That’s it! You can invite others to join in, or just post. If you tag me in your post, I will send you an ask request!

If you’re reading this, you’re invited!

If you see someone posting a WIP Wednesday Game snippet, send them an ask! Make them write.

Requested/Friend event mentions under the cut! If you'd like to be pinged next week, let me know!

friends @fiore-della-valle @redbirdblogs @greenbergsays @idkfandomwhatever @luckyspike @obaewankenope @mad-madam-m @sleepymccoy @eriquin @sosobriquet @qprstobin @spacebarrette @andavs @zainclaw @anonymousdandelion @flameraven @fractalgeometry / Requests @aparticularbandit @madnessfromthemountains @makeroftherunes @not-orpheus @1attheedge @preetsramblings

#WIP Wednesdays #my writing #writing #my fanfiction #fanfic #vashwood fanfiction #rhack fanfiction #the magnus archives fanfiction

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zoldyyks · 8 months ago

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okay so I have very few distinct Plot points but the main crux of the Idea is of a slightly darker wolfwood…….. ww who has had nothing but religious to lean on while the eye of michael do unspeakably evil things to him and becomes obsessed with the concept of God and holiness

ww who, after so long of committing horrors on behalf of the eye, feels himself so dirty and irredeemable that very little could ever cleanse him

but

but!

then he sees vash. and he sees him and he thinks that if he were able to partake in communion with that holiness it would perhaps fix him

this is all just an excuse for vashwood blood drinking/mild cannibalism thank u for coming to my ted talk

overcome with the vashwood once more

#Like there isn’t much actual plot it’s just a slightly darker and twisted take on wolfwood #that involves him being obsessed with Vash and wanting to drink his blood bc he thinks it’ll make him pure again #but also Vash as a willing sacrifice in this. like of course I’ll let this sexy priest pin me down on the punisher and bite my neck

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chris-continues · 1 year ago

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OK IM NOT A HUGE COFFEE FIEND BUT ILL DABBLE MY OPINIONS IN HERE

Sorry these r all out of order my thoughts are like fucking scrambled asf dude LMAO

Meryl likes hazelnut infused coffee, something dark and not too rich w/ minimal sugar and oat milk perhaps? Probs doesn’t care if it’s iced or not, but she tends to take small sips every now and then and iced lasts longer, so usually iced.

Milly likes something with caramel and she gets a pastry or smth. Maybe a cake pop if they’re at Starbucks, a Boston cream donut if they’re at Dunkin (that’s my personal fav sooo) but she doesn’t really care for caffeine, she’s indifferent towards it. Mainly enjoys the sweets.

Vash also prefers the sweets but likes a classic French vanilla I think ^^ nothing too crazy, but he does like it iced because he has a habit of getting excited and burning his tongue (or spilling it on himself). A bit on the sweeter side, doesn’t really care for what kind of sweetener, basic amount of milk or cream, he’s easy like that. He does love doughnuts, though I’m sure we already knew that.

VASH WANTS A MATCHING PAIR i am debating on what kind he’d have hmmm (pullin up pinterest rn)

These bad boys and he wears his funky socks with them, occasionally mismatching (which drives Nai crazy) (he finds the shoes tacky) (he owns a pair in white. Because he sticks with neutrals. Because they’re versatile. That bright red he always wears is going to catch up with him…)

Ur so real for the Wolfwood cooking hcs dude he has such questionable taste it’s so random ALSO LMAO IS COLLEGE AU WOLFWOOD JUST ME WRITING UR SELF INSERT?? Wolfwood is so real tbh

I think he also likes to get bacon bits and shredded cheese to toss into a potato. Like if he’s feeling fancy he may even buy sour cream and make this his main meal for like the whole week. Dude makes a baked potato every day. Same toppings. (Meryl questions how the hell he doesn’t go insane)

Milly and Meryl are such amazing roommates dude them being domestic is so sweet (they end up dating) (LETS GO LESBIANS LETS GO) (I’ve been debating on implementing Vashwood or not because I am writing reader into this au for drabbles soooo ig we’ll see lol) but they pair together so well. Their decor differs on the side of the room; Milly has her books stacked on her desk with a few mementos from home placed sweetly, funky cowboy hat hung from her bedpost and a few hooks Meryl was sure to triple check didn’t have the adhesive that peels off the damn paint from the walls because she is NOT paying extra because the walls got all dinged up. Milly has a bulletin board her family got for her to stick photos onto, though all of the photos adorning it consist of Meryl’s Polaroids they share :)

Meryl’s side of the room consists of an extension cord. Several. She has to charge her headphones, watch, phone, laptop, this- (me projecting rn ngl) and you’re so right by the fact she likes nothing bulky ish (like the over the ear Sony or Bose headphones) she’s into smth more compact. She has her AirPods case attached to her belt loop 24/7, it makes for a cute little touch.

They have a rug that gets constantly trampled on every time the guys come over T<T Meryl is glad she read up to not get a nice carpet because it’ll get wrecked. She was right.

Milly also has a wii she found at a garage sale that they play Mario party 9 on, it makes for a fun night with some takeout and woo! They’re having fun! Oh god- Nick, that roll totally sucked- HEY DONT ELBOW ME! AAA! -Vash

HURRY UP AND CHOOSE YOUR ITEM -Meryl

The star is over on that side of the map right?? -Milly

(That HC has been rotting in my brain for over a month. A MONTH.)

Milly’s handwriting is sweet and simple. She has the midwestern grandma handwriting iykyk, she saw her grandma/mom’s handwriting and loved it so.. it just kinda stuck.

Meryl’s handwriting is straightforward, it kinda reminds you of teacher handwriting although I do think when she’s stressed or rushed when writing you can tell. Her letters taper off more, it’s a bit more shaky, everything flows together a bit more.

And yeah Nai having to basically parent Vash since they were 16 means getting used to their eating habits. He’s gone over his diet w Vash (since Vash is limited on what he can eat/how much he can eat since it damages his body- medical stuff). Vash teases him on it but there’s a definite line, the worry creasing his brother’s brow doesn’t whiz past him.

He knows he means well and wishes him the best- along with the fact he definitely feels he owes him. They’ve been through a lot together, and something small like this is a way for Nai to show he cares. Hence why Vash always makes time to eat with his brother, even if it’s silent some days. Even if it sometimes feels tiring to have silence, (the need for music or smth lol) they’ll still eat together. On some days Vash will chat with him at the counter as Knives cooks, feeling sort of guilty for his concerning eating habits some days.

He’s trying. For Nai. Some days it’s hard for him to do anything, and he truly feels he doesn’t deserve his brother some days. Doting in his own way.

College AU Thoughts (cont.)

Writing more college au solely because ONE OF THE COOLEST PPL EVER @macncherries did Wolfwood art (here check it out), but have some more random college au thoughts

TAGS: @lune010 @h4venpha @vashfantasy

-Meryl probably has some really nice gel, ballpoint, colored pens that she literally abuses all the time. Sometimes her notes aren’t even totally neat she’s just sleep deprived and highlighting/underlining the important areas of her textbook as she listens to her lecture

-Vash definitely has to listen to audio playback of lectures- does he try to take notes in class? Yeah. But they look like chicken scratch, his handwriting pales in comparison to literally anyone else’s T<T listening while he does smth else really helps w/ how he learns (autistic vash) (cough)

-Meryl and Milly have matching pairs of rip-off Birkenstocks they found at like Marshall’s then saw a pair w a marijuana leaf and Milly went, “Reminds me of Wolfwood!” So they got it (to Meryl’s amusement and dismay). Wolfwood wears them often

-Ok, I’ve been debating on this hc that Vash sometimes gets invited to parties, considering he’s a bit of a campus celeb. Handsome, athletic (tennis player legend), but he can easily get overwhelmed. He’s having fun with the fame for like a good 30 minutes to an hour and then he just kinda tires out more as the night drags on.

-Meryl’s outfits consist of her wanting comfort yet maintaining her usual feminine flair. Yoga pants with a cami and a simple jacket, or on nicer days more of a fitted sweater. Perhaps a jumper and a baby tee/turtleneck underneath- I think when she’s feeling it she def likes Monica Helper’s looks from Friends. A casual, yet still sweet vibe.

-for accessories she probably has an Apple Watch and the staples- hoop earrings, her classic dangle/rectangular earrings, some silver hardware if she’s feelin extra funky and a classic black belt because I do believe she hates it when her jeans are too low it’s a big thing that annoys her to no end.

-On the other hand, Milly’s outfits are less fitted and I think she’s more laid back in her appearance, preferring some of the crew necks she’s collected from several events her siblings have been to or hand me downs from her country family. She wears vintage athletic wear though, it’s cute on her and it suits her well.

-she has a few simple scrunchies she remains loyal to, not wanting to cut her hair short and often tying it up. When she feels more femme she’s got some cute necklaces that pair well with any cute sweaters she has- she also has some maxi skirts she wears too! :) (can’t find an exact image of what I have in mind + I have a 10 image limit on mobile lol)

-Meryl avidly has to live off of coffee. Girl is always so organized but truthfully she’s half alive due to the fact she’s a frequent visitor at the campus cafe and is familiar w/ some of the baristas who often cut her slack if she ever needs a pick me up.

-Vash is like a crazy good teacher, to some people’s surprise. He can word concepts in a way that breaks them down easier, sometimes he even has some little memory hints he uses lol. For any other ND kid in class who’s a bit bashful they usually flock to him, he’s got such a charming aura and never fails to make anyone feel a bit more comfortable.

-Wolfwood teases Meryl for her aforementioned coffee addiction, but I’d imagine he takes a liking to something like a pink drink. Like- usually that stuff is too sugary for him, but smth about it has him coming back for more!!

-Meryl has an array of podcasts she listens to- I think she def dabbled in true crime maybe?

-Milly and Meryl’s shared dorm is actually really chill. There’s some clutter on each side but they’ve got a shared mini fridge (Meryl got it but doesn’t mind Milly using it because she likes her) it’s stocked with pudding cups

-Milly got Pinterest after Meryl wanted to share ideas for food ideas on weekends (they’re both on a meal plan but still need to eat on Saturdays and Sunday’s lol) so they usually end up going out for some cheap takeout w/ Vash and Wolfwood or make something in a rice cooker they found at a thrift store that works kinda ok… for the price they got it.

-Like they’re cutting up spam, eggs, tossing rice on there, some veggies they got and sometimes they splurge on cheap fruit like bananas and apples

-They both like to eat well and unlike Vash and Wolfwood they won’t live off of instant ramen and takeout (although Vash eats pretty well considering he lives with Nai, who makes sure he regulates his diet due to sports and Vash’s long list of medical concerns)

-Wolfwood eats like shit though I’ll be completely honest

-The guy knows how to shop. But he doesn’t want to. So he lives off of cup noodles and old pizza, takeout and shit, and thanks to crazy fast metabolism he works it off whenever he does some form of working out and whatnot.

-Will agree that he has the best of the best songs, his music taste is unparalleled. Like he’ll be busting it down to 6up 5oh Cop-Out (Pro/Con) by Will Wood from his middle school days then some new metal he’s gotten into (he peeked over Knives�� Spotify playlists) OO OR OR THIS IS LOVE BY AIR TRAFFIC CONTROLLER (I’m def not protecting w/ what’s on my Spotify rn I’m shit at song names I just know vibes)

-Vash likes hyperpop and rave typa stuff it stimulates his brain in just the right way tbh

#chris writes #trigun stampede #drabble #stampede wolfwood #nicholas d. wolfwood #vash the stampede #milly thompson #meryl stryfe #college au vash #college au milly #college au meryl #college au wolfwood #trigun #college au #polygun??#maybe??#college au knives #millions knives #knives headcanons

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