#so many thomases!!

[cinematicnomad]

THE TERROR ▸ 1.08 terror camp clear

[chicago-geniza]

Wait you're telling me that present-day Anglicans more or less pledge allegiance to Charles Windsor? No wonder so many adult Catholic converts are in England. I thought it was elective ideological affinity with tradwyf t/rf shit and of course there's ample common ground but if you want to stay Christian while feeling flatteringly old-fashioned and avoid swearing fealty to Charles, and if Marriage (TM) is your hobbyhorse, of course you'd genuflect back to the pre-Tudor era. This is sooo funny sorry I cut class a lot during our Reformation/Wars of Religion unit, really most of the early modern Britain module, it was all Jesus to me and everyone had the same 5 names

[meduseld]

Underrated (very darkly) funny moment in the Terror is when at the start of ep. 9 they are staring at the body trying to ID it and Blanky fills them in on who it is and Tom Hartnell’s face goes ohhhhhhh yeah! and then he remembers just wtf they are talking about. 

[leadandblood]

*throws the link at ur head* Take my quiz, boy.

This one's too easy. Only 27 of the most known cold boys from the most recognisable angles and with the best quality images. The most obscure one in the entire quiz is Georgie Chambers, with David Bryant right behind him. Like I said, easy mode. But don't feel bad if you mess up, it just means you're a functional human being. *wipes tear away*

There's nothing mean, like a name spelled wrong just to get you. None of that. I want this to be an honest test of coldboy knowledge. There's just a Thomas x5 situation, which I did just bc I thought it was funny. So many Thomases...

I will make a hard mode later. More background characters and more blurry images, so it's a propper challange. But I wanted to try if the concept works first.

This will be up for two weeks! After which I might be able to reset it or start it again, but I haven't figured that out yet.

If you have any issues with the quiz, DM please or comment under this post, whichever you prefer

[pinkanonwrites]

Stargazers, New and Old

Another Vash fic! Forgive me, TWST Fans, I’m so deep in the paint on this guy it isn’t even funny.

Vash the Stampede/Reader, +3,000 Words, GN!Reader, Mutual Pining, Cuddling, Stargazing

Through your shared time as drifters, you and Vash had spent plenty of time together beneath the stars.

Granted, it was usually from the roof of whatever cheap hotel the two of you were staying at for the night, tearing into snacks and idly chatting about whatever Vash had or hadn’t accidentally managed to blow up that day. There’d even be a celebration sometimes, if things went right! Townsfolk would spill into the street, drinking and dancing and celebrating another one of Vash’s many perfectly timed victories as they piled your table high with heaped praise and overflowing mugs of alcohol. As hectic as they could end up being, you often got plenty of enjoyment out of the fuss, watching Vash stumble around sheepish and drunk as his praises were sung up to the starry evening sky.

But if you honestly had to choose? You’d say you enjoyed nights like these much better.

Sometimes Gunsmoke’s two suns would sink deep into the horizon and the two of you would find yourselves between towns, lost to the sands of the evening desert. Not too often, really. Usually Vash was quick to make sure you had at least the basic amenities readily nearby: food, running water, a creaky old motel mattress that was only barely better than sleeping on the floor. He was fine going without them for an evening or two, but he hated to put you out in any way. But sometimes you’d get stopped up along the way, or have to stealth around a bandit camp, or get distracted watching wild Thomases scamper up and down the sandy hillsides, and end up somewhere in the empty desert, iles from the nearest town.

Luckily both of you were prepared for this kind of thing at this point, Vash even proudly showing off some of his little “survival trinkets” he’d scooped up before meeting you, like a miniature campfire set that packed away into a pocket-sized tin.

“Ta-da!” And that was where the two of you found yourselves now, tucked around the fire at the base of a large dune, Vash presenting you with a metal camping mug full of instant noodles with all the pride and bravado of a chef presenting a five-course meal. “Your majesty, may I present…. Dinner!”

"Why thank you, chef." You took the mug with both hands, letting the warm metal soothe the calluses on your palms. As Vash prepared himself a mug you cracked him a sly smile. "Or are you more my court jester?"

"What, was 'knight in shining armor' already taken?" He chuckled, cupping his own mug in his gloved palms and sipping carefully. "YEOWCH! Still pretty hot! Be careful, m'kay?"

"I will." You blew on your own cup of broth before sipping it. Shuffling over a bit, you let yourself lean heavily into Vash’s side, leeching his excess body heat. A single glance up showed the rosy-red blush that began to creep across his face at the contact, but you chose not to comment on it. “It’s really amazing how cold the desert can get during the night.”

“It’s actually because there’s no humidity. Without the water in the air to hold the heat, it cools off a lot faster.” Vash took another slow slurp of his noodles, staring out over the vast landscape beyond your tiny fire. “Deathly hot in the daytime, dangerously cold in the night… It’s a really formidable place.” A familiar, distant expression overtook Vash’s face at that. He did his best to hide it from you but you’d long since caught on to it, those moments where his walls faltered and you could damn near watch in real time as the melancholy of a man who had seen far too much began to creep in along the edges.

“And yet, here we are.” You simply responded, gesturing to the small campfire with your mug before holding it up to Vash. You never really felt like you could offer him much in these moments, simple placations and apologies feeling far too hollow. But at the very least, you could offer this. “Cheers to surviving? Despite everything?”

He chuckled, low, soft, and tired, bringing his cup up to yours to clink the metal rims together. “Despite everything.”

You let your head thump gently against Vash’s shoulder, the two of you absorbing the cool silence of the desert night. There was little need for words between sips of noodles and broth; the silence with Vash never crept into uncomfortable. As the fire and your supper dwindled in unison the sky inched ever further towards utter blackness. With no towns within a good dozen or so iles in any direction the deep velveteen shades of space were even more apparent than usual, long strips of indigo and blue speckled with pinpoints of distant light. 

“All done?” Vash finally spoke up, taking your empty mug from your outstretched hand. “I’ll take care of these if you want to get the sleeping bags ready.”

“Sure.” 

The first few times you had slept out beneath the stars, you were adamant about having your sleeping bag a reasonable distance away from Vash’s. ‘Personal space,’ you insisted, even as he joked that you’d be too wooed by his natural charms if you slept any closer. But over time you just couldn’t help yourself. Getting to know Vash, to really know him, seemed to go hand in hand with your own sleeping bag drifting ever so slightly closer and closer to his with each passing night. Now you barely even blinked as you rolled the two of them out, side by side.

With a belly full of warm food and the promise of a cozy place to sleep ahead, the exhaustion seemed to wash over you in a sudden, leaden wave. You barely had the energy to kick your shoes off, shuffling yourself awkwardly into the bag until it was pulled nearly up to your chin. When Vash turned back around from putting your mugs away he barked out a short, surprised laugh.

“Comfy in there?”

You nodded, biting back a yawn as your eyelids fluttered. You watched through bleary lashes as Vash put the cap over the top of the pocket bonfire, snuffing the flame with a soft hiss and plunging his silhouette into moonlight. You could catch the vague shimmer off of his glasses lenses, the glint on the pauldron of his prosthetic arm, and the barest hint of a soft smile by the light of the five moons.

“I’ll finish cleaning up, why don’t you get some sleep?”

You nodded again, humming softly as you let your eyes slip fully shut and melted into the darkness behind your eyelids. “Mhm… Thank you, Vash.”

You swore that as the comfortable fuzz of sleep crept further into the edges of your mind, you felt a warm, metallic hand pat you gently atop your head.

And then, blackness.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

You normally slept incredibly well with Vash by your side, safe in the knowledge that whatever may happen, he’d be there to protect you.

Which is why it came as a bit of a shock to you when you jerked suddenly awake, the fog of some already-fading nightmare seeping away from your consciousness. Even as you struggled to recall it the details continued to slip away, flashes of smoke and gunmetal and blond hair streaked with clumped, drying blood all that remained on the peripheries of your subconscious. It left you as most nightmares do, feeling hollow and distinctly paranoid.

The chill in the air certainly didn’t help either. Even within the plush confines of your sleeping bag you could feel the cold cutting through, leaving your entire body tense and shivery, muscles aching. You certainly wouldn’t be getting back to sleep any time soon.

But just as you saw fit to roll over and curse your bad luck, you noticed Vash. He was sat upright, leaning back on the heels of his palms, sleeping bag pooled around his waist as he tipped his head up towards the night sky. His face was lit in profile by cool, white moonlight, and without his familiar tinted lenses on you could see the reflection of a thousand little stars in his aqua-colored eyes. A look of incredible serenity was upon his face. You almost hated to disturb it.

But at some point he must have felt your eyes trained upon him, because he turned his attention to you, and that distant, moony gaze seemed to focus into something soft and concerned.

“What are you still doing up?”

“I could ask you the same thing.” You sat up and immediately regretted it, the frosty wind cutting straight through your thin, linen shirt. “Aren’t we getting up early tomorrow to beat the heat?”

“Yeah… Guess I just couldn’t sleep, is all.”

“Me neither.”

You fell silent again, following Vash’s gaze as it trailed back up towards the marbled sky. Shivering, you tucked your knees up to your chest and wrapped your arms around them as your eyes flit back and forth across those tiny, oh so distant specks of light. It was hard to even imagine that each one was just like one of your two suns, even harder to imagine that somewhere out there is where humans originally came from. Was Earth somewhere in this milky spiral of stars? Could you find it, one day, if you really looked hard enough? Or was it already too far gone, too distant or dim or lost to the hubris of the people who came long before you? You supposed you’d never really know for sure.

“Do you know any constellations?”

You startled a bit when Vash broke the silence, and just barely in the moonlight you could see him put up his hands as a sort of ‘Sorry!’ gesture. He’d had time to adjust to the dark, so maybe he could see you better than you could see him. 

“Not really.” You replied. “I know what some of them are called but I could never figure out how you were supposed to find them.”

“Want me to show you? It’s really not that hard, if you know what to look for.”

You nodded, scooting your sleeping bag as close to Vash as you could get. He wrapped his right arm around you and rested his chin on your shoulder, reaching up towards the sky with his prosthetic. You could feel the warmth radiating off of him, thrumming like an old yet sturdy machine. He outstretched a single finger, a thin glow of blue-green energy pulsing beneath the metal as he pointed.

“See that bright one, right there?” His voice was barely above a murmur, hesitant to break the silence of the vast desert. “Follow my arm, it’s gonna be just at the tip of my finger.”

“I…Think so? Is it just to the left of that kinda red one?”

“There you go! That’s the main point of Luridae, the Scorpion. It’s supposed to be the tip of the tail. If you draw a line to the one right below it, then the one below that, you follow the trail and make like, an upside-down hook shape. Seven stars.”

“But how is that supposed to be a scorpion?”

“You’ve gotta use your imagination!” He laughed at your furrowed brow, moving his hand a bit further to the right and up. “If you can find Luridae you can find Sula, the Spear. That’s an easy one, it’s those five stars in a straight line, see? It points right towards the tail.”

You squinted, trying your best to follow Vash’s instructions. Sure enough, just up and to the right of that bright star was a line of five, neat in a row like someone had sketched them up there.

“I see it! It’s right there, right?” You brought your arm up right next to Vash’s, sides of your arms touching all the way up to your palms as you traced the line in the sky with your fingertip. Even the metal of his prosthetic was unnaturally warm, just enough to be comfortable, like it was still holding its heat from the evening sun.

“Yeah, you got it!” His cheek was nearly pressed to yours, and you could feel him smile at your success. The excitement was infectious, leaving you feeling floaty and light despite your exhaustion. “Wanna try a few more?”

“Sure! What about up here?” You tipped your head all the way back, staring straight up into the night sky, only to wince at the sharp twang of pain you felt in the back of your neck. “Ow.”

“You okay?” Vash’s face filled your vision, expression soft with concern. You just shrugged, rolling your shoulder and pressing your fingertips into the tense muscle.

“I’m fine, just tweaked my neck a little. The cold just makes all my muscles kind of achey." 

Vash's hand rested on the side of your arm, almost hot to the touch against your chilled skin. How could he possibly run so warm? You wanted to melt into nothing more than a little ball curled up in the palm of his hand, dozing in the pleasant warmth it provided. Meanwhile his eyebrows had flown up his forehead, blinking incredulously at you.

"You're freezing! Why didn't you say anything?" 

"I dunno! I didn't wanna bother you? Besides, I didn't notice until I woke up, anyway!"

He frowned at you, unconsciously jutting out his lower lip in an adorable pout that made your heart stammer in your chest. He made a lot of faces like this, smug little smiles after a trick shot or delighted beaming grins over dinner, even those soft, bittersweet little expressions he'd shoot your way when he thought you weren't looking; faces that made you want to just throw caution to the wind and lean in and kiss him until you both ran hot and breathless.

But you couldn't. Vash liked to joke about how fearless you were, unafraid of tailing after the Humanoid Typhoon through each town and city he blew through, but you weren't that brave. Not enough to risk the possible rejection of the person you cherished most in the world, even if he was under the impression he was doing it for your benefit. No, you were nowhere near that brave. Not yet.

"Maybe you'll just have to share with me then, if you want to keep warm!~"

"Can I?"

You both stiffened, neither of you expecting your response to actually come out of your mouth. Vash was clearly trying to tease you, you could see that now by the wide eyes and startled red fluster on his cheeks, but you'd been so deep in your own thoughts you hadn't even registered it properly until the words were already out of your mouth. You clammed up quickly, the back of your neck feeling hot and prickly as you cupped your hands over it and turned jerkily away from him.

"Ah! Sorry, I didn't- I wasn't really thinking I was just- You know I should have known you were just joking, so… so let's just go back to sleep. Sorry. This is weird… sorry."

You'd definitely said sorry way too many times. And he'd definitely noticed. But maybe he'd actually cut you some slack for once and not point out how effectively you'd just humiliated yourself in front of him. Or maybe you could just roll yourself up in your sleeping bag like a pill bug and in the morning you'd forget this entire exchange even happened.

"...Do you really want to?" He mumbled, warm fingertips resting on your upper arm again and sending a shiver down the length of your spine. He didn't pull away even when you flinched at the contact, voice staying hesitant, small, almost like he was trying to soothe a skittish animal. "I don't want you to freeze or anything. I really don't mind."

"It's not weird?" You'd almost mustered up the courage to ask 'I didn't make things weird?' but you chickened out at the last moment catching a glimpse of Vash's soft expression when peering at him from the corner of your eye.

"No, it's totally fine! I run kind of hot anyway. I can be your heated blanket." Seating himself all the way upright, Vash opened his arms to you, and it took everything you had not to dive into them the second the gesture was offered. 

Trying not to look as eager as you were, you slipped carefully out of your own sleeping bag, shuddering as you were buffeted by the evening air. It was a bit of an awkward clamber, one you tried desperately not to think too hard about as you burrowed your way in right next to Vash. He was a big guy, and the sleeping bag was barely big enough for him to begin with, so once you got yourself situated you found that you were basically snug up against him from your ankles all the way up to your neck. And oh, was it everything you'd imagined to be and more. You were curled up into his right side; he'd tucked you up in such a way that your head was resting right on his shoulder with his arm slung around you, keeping you close. The thin fabric of your pajamas did nothing to quell the heat that rolled off of Vash's body and seeped into your own. It was a familiar, achingly safe kind of warmth, like falling asleep in an afternoon sunbeam coming through the window and landing across a soft mattress. It felt right. It felt like home.

"Comfy?" His voice was so soft a murmur you could barely make it out, and you nodded for fear of any words being let out giving away your true feelings on the situation. How were you ever supposed to sleep on your own again, knowing that this bliss was just within arms reach? "That's good. Hey, try looking up now?"

You blinked up at the night sky, an endless expanse of stars and moons stretched over your heads. His free arm rose again, fingertip tracing an abstract, polygonal form against the starry backdrop.

"Rivus Minor, the Little River. You can follow it across the sky, just like this. Follow my hand, okay?"

"Yeah." You whispered, for you didn't think you had the strength nor the courage to speak any louder. You'd follow his hand as it traced the stars. You'd follow him to the driest, most desperate towns, the true wastelands. You'd follow him through hell and back out again, to the most barren edges of No Man's Land and back, a thousand times over. Even if he tried to leave you behind, for your protection he'd say, for your safety, you wouldn't be able to help but follow. You'd follow him through blood and gun-smoke and tears and keep following beyond. As long as Vash was there, you couldn't help but be there too.

"Okay. I'll follow you."

[rosemarydisaster]

I find Duke's relationship to the Batfam so fascinating. He has three living parents: an evil bio dad and his jokerized parents. He would never join Gnomon, and his parents can't care for him in their current state. There's also very little hope of finding a cure that will completely reverse the Joker Gas effects. That's why he was originally put in foster care: he has no one. Until, of course, Bruce Wayne offers him a place at his family. And what a weird thing that must be for him.

He hasn't had a home in years, actively running away from foster families to try and find/cure his parents. Even now, he visits them despite how awful it makes him feel because that's his family. And now he has a stable place to call home with a couple of adults acting as parental figures and a bunch of pseudo siblings, all of them Gotham vigilantes. How do you fit in?

Even if you're interpreting the Batfam as completely wholesome (WFA style), I don't think Duke would want to fit in, not entirely. This new family going overboard to make him feel welcome and included when he would feel more comfortable with some degree of separation. Not because he has anything against them, those are his heroes, the people he looks up to...but his parents are alive. They are alive and as long as there's a chance, no matter how small, to cure them he's going to take it.

No matter what he does, guilt is just around the corner. If he gets comfortable with the Wayne's, he's betraying his parents. If he keeps his distance he hurts the people that have given him a home after so many years running. There's also the physical distance: all Wayne adopted siblings look quite similar to each other, it makes it easier to feel out of place. They're all perfectly human too, with Duke being also the only meta of the family. Not even his friends from We Are Robin share that with him.

I think Cass and Damian would help him feel integrated the most. Particularly it could be very interesting to join it with Damian's journey into feeling secure in the family. He used to reject Tim and now he tries to make Duke feel part of the family. Also, Bruce is very impressed by Duke despite his usual emotional constipation. I would love to see an arc for the character where he realizes he can have both families. He doesn't need to let go of his parents to be part of the batfam, and this new family will support his love for his parents. Especially considering how Joke tried to recreate the murder of the Wayne's with the Thomases, I think Bruce would make sure Duke knows he's not trying to replace his parents.

Maybe I'm weak for characters that have to deal with loved ones that aren't neither gone nor here, but damm. Also, I hope that the whole "the damage is irreversible" thing was a joke and the Thomases recover. I really need them and Crystal Brown to make a "civilian parents" support group.

[natequarter]

tudor gothic:

the lord chancellor is called thomas. he runs the country. he wants no part in where england goes from now. the lord chancellor is being arrested for treason. the lord chancellor was executed. the lord chancellor was never arrested. there is no lord chancellor.

the crown is dissolving monasteries. this is standard practice. all the monasteries are shutting down. this is thomas's fault. you have no idea which thomas. the crown wants the monasteries back. the monasteries are never coming back. you visited an intact monastery just yesterday. when you blinked, the ruins gave alms to the poor.

the wars of the roses have just ended decisively. the wars of the roses have been over for decades. the legacy of civil war haunts england. you've watched shakespeare's wars of the roses plays. the wars of the roses must have been over when the throne passed peacefully to henry viii. when you close your eyes, you can somehow hear reginald pole laughing at you.

the duke of somerset was beheaded for treason. so was the duke of buckingham. so was the duke of northumberland. so was the duke of norfolk. so was the duke of suffolk. the duke of suffolk never lost the king's affection. all the dukes are vying for power. but then you remember: there are no dukes. perhaps there never were.

the howards are not to be trusted. thomas howard was thrown in the tower. thomas howard was executed for treason. thomas howard lived out his life peacefully. thomas howard only narrowly escaped henry viii's reign with his life. you are drowning in thomases. they never end. one thing you are certain of, though: thomas howard is long dead. thomas howard will outlive us all.

you know the names of every courtier in the kingdom, and yet more go missing with every passing day. you try to note down the name of thomas wryth, but you cannot put quill to parchment. how is it spelt? wriothesley? you have always known that. you know it deep in your bones. and yet, when you try to say it out loud, words fail you. words fail everyone, where the earl of southampton is concerned. somewhere dark and terrible, an ancient beast awakens from its slumber. like everything else, it is also called thomas.

you turn to noting down the name of the queen. kateryn parr. this is a simple task. your subconscious whispers catalina to you in a distinctly spanish accent. your hand shakes. you try to write down catherine, but it morphs into a k against your will. you drop your quill, hand trembling. nonetheless, there is a name before you. whose name it is is anyone's guess.

mary is queen. which mary? which queen? suddenly, you are not so sure.

the bible is written in latin. the bible has always been written in latin. you flick through the pages of your bible, and greek letters swim before your eyes. you check the book again, and find you are holding a book of hours. all the words are in english. you cannot read any of them.

the king of england has ruled for many years. he is nine years old. the king of england is a foreign power. elizabeth was king; now james is queen. long live queen james!

[cobawrites]

A Gust of Wind (Vash x Reader), Chapter 4

Vash x Reader, GN! Reader, Mutual Pining, Hurt/Comfort, Slow Burn Romance. No real tw’s for this chapter, but see warnings for chapters 1 and 2, and some future chapters. Reader awakens to an unfamiliar world, left alone and struggling with mental health problems from before the crash. Vash emerges as a guiding light for Reader, and vice versa.

Note: I made a mistake in chapter 3. I thought it had been 120 years since the crash, but it should have been 150. I apparently can’t math OR pay attention! Anyway, chapter 3 has since been updated.

First >> Prev >> Chp. 4 >> Next

                                                    A Gust of Wind

                                                        Chapter 4

As you and Vash set out for town, you took the time to gather your bearings and note any special landmarks, but it was a near impossible task. The sand dunes seemed endless, and there weren’t many distinguishing features to speak of. It didn’t seem quite so hopeless when you first left the ship. Wandering around aimlessly was easy, but actually trying to get somewhere was a different story.

Come to think of it, what distinguishing features had you noticed closer to the ship? You remembered strong winds and a steady incline as you left, but not much more than that. Furthermore, a large portion of the ship itself was covered in sand dunes, so if you went even slightly in the wrong direction, you could never hope to spot it.

Vash reassured you several times that he had extremely sharp eyes. Although you were not entirely convinced, you decided to follow the original plan anyway. You had been nothing but honest about how little you knew the path back to the ship, and if he wanted to go on a wild goose chase with you, that was his choice to make. At least you had some idea of the general direction you had come from. For now, that would have to do.

After a couple of hours, and two or three threats from Vash about carrying you again if you didn’t stop limping, you finally reached town. He bought a couple of those giant feathery creatures called thomases from a small herder who seemed eager to sell. A quick look inside the animals’ enclosure showed only a couple bags of feed left. The herder admitted that, pretty soon, they’d be on the menu, too, especially if the neighboring town continued to hike up the cost of their imports. You felt bad for those poor creatures…

“I don’t know if I could ever bring myself to slaughter an animal I raised from birth…” you sighed as you walked away, pulling your thomas along by its lead.

“That’s why we are going to help these people – so they won’t have to do anything like that, or worse.” Said Vash, hopping on his thomas without much thought and adjusting the reins. He looked back at you expectantly.

You stared at the foothold of the saddle for a second, swallowing hard as you eyed the creature’s wide body and thick, muscular legs. Oh yeah, this big boy could kick Mr. String Bean’s kneecaps in any day of the week. The thomas drilled holes into your eyes with its gaze and ruffled its feathers a bit.

“Careful,” warned Vash. “They may be fairly tame, but they’ll pick up on fear pretty easily and get restless. You don’t want to get kicked off one of these guys.”

Steeling yourself, you hooked your foot onto the foothold and attempted to swing yourself over. But as soon as your other foot was off the ground, the thomas shook violently, and sent you flying face first into the dirt.

Groaning, you stood up slowly, head still spinning until you heard a strangled laugh. Your gaze snapped over to Vash, who was now looking in every direction but yours. Eyes narrowed at his increasingly nervous face, you petted the thomas’s head, attempting to soothe its puffed feathers. You then tried to hop on once again, but forgetting all about your loving pats, the creature shoved you away the second you put weight on the foothold. Well, at least you landed on your butt this time…

Another muffled snicker came from Vash’s direction. The noise stopped the second you locked eyes with him. That’s what you thought...

Lips pressed firmly into a thin line, he dismounted from his thomas and placed his foot on the foothold. “Like this,” he began, then mounted the creature effortlessly with a smile. “Easy-peasy.”

“Easy-peasy,” you mocked in a high-pitched voice under your breath. “Smug little…”

This went on for another fifteen minutes, with Vash offering a couple of tips here and there. Of course, just about all the advice he gave you missed its mark by a landslide. He was a natural, and you were most definitely not. To make matters worse, he eventually gave up on hiding his laughter altogether, leaving you red-faced and wondering if he was doing this on purpose. Maybe you shouldn’t have called him all those names…

Fed up with your repeated failures, you stomped over to your thomas, your ankle’s protests falling on deaf ears. Mustering all your strength, you hooked your foot and swung over the saddle quickly. For a second, you thought you had it, but Vash was moving toward you before you even realized it was a failed attempt. The thomas, thoroughly irritated with your poor riding skills, shook its entire body to the left, sending you reeling to the ground on your bad leg.

Vash was underneath you before you could blink, cushioning your fall. You sat atop his lap for more than a few seconds, utterly dumbfounded. It all happened so fast.

“Am I comfy?” He teased with a smile, looking up at you with his chin resting on your shoulder.

Face burning hotter than the planet’s two suns combined, you scrambled out of his lap. But before you could walk away from him, he reached from behind to pick you up by the hips, and plopped you down on the other thomas.

“There, now grab onto the reigns,” he instructed, guiding your hands. “Yeah, like that. You’ve got it.”

Mortified and tongue twisted, you barely managed to mumble a thankyou as you watched him walk over to your thomas. He smoothed the ruffled feathers on its neck, and walked it around for a few minutes on the lead. Then, deciding it had calmed down enough, he hopped on as easily as he had on the other thomas.

“Behold, the thomas-whisperer.” You laughed, half annoyed, but half in awe at his talent with animals.

“The what?” He asked. You shook your head.

“It was this thing where – ah, never mind, not important.” You shrugged.

“Well, anyway, don’t feel too bad. This guy’s just got a bit of an attitude. You can tell by the way it stares when you approach it.” He explained, adjusting the reigns.

“Wait a minute… You can tell just by how it looks at you?” You narrowed your eyes. “So then…”

“Yeah, I’m sorry,” said Vash, rubbing the back of his neck with a sheepish grin. “After the last few days I’ve had, I… uhhh… kind of needed a good laugh.”

“You motherfu –,”

“You’ll forgive me, won’t you, (Y/N)?” He begged, giving you the most dictionary-definition puppy-dog eyes you’d ever seen in your life. You gulped, suddenly lost for words. This man was dangerous…

With a content smile on his face, he showed you how to command your thomas, and you both set off for the ship. It was a long way there, but the thomases were a godsend. The distance you felt would have taken you several days to traverse took just under three. You may have gotten there faster had it not been for a long series of earthquakes that unsettled your thomases, forcing you to take a break. Regardless, before you knew it, you were approaching a reasonably familiar area. This was your best guess at where the ship was buried, but with all the sand dunes looking practically identical, it was hard to tell where it was exactly.

“I did warn you that it would be hard to find,” you huffed after a few hours of circling the area. You were so sure that these sand dunes had to be the ones, but now, doubt was setting in.

“Well, it’s not like I expected it to be easy,” he shrugged, holding his hand to his forehead while looking down from the top of one of the dunes. “If it was, you’d think that this ship would have been raided long ago.”

“I don’t mean to stray off topic here, but if you have to shield your eyes from the sun anyway, just what the hell is the point of those shades?” You asked, the exasperation from your fruitless search causing your tone to come across more harshly than you’d intended. Vash turned to look at you, eyes widened slightly.

“I – I mean, they look good, don’t get me wrong!” You back-peddled as fast as you could, laughing nervously and letting go of the reigns to put your hands defensively in the air. The way the slightest change in his expression could make a person’s heart break was outrageous. “I just mean, you could probably use something a little more practical, you know? I know I could.”

Vash trained his eyes shyly on the sand below, tracing the rim of his sunglasses with his fingers. “I guess… I just like them? They make me feel comfortable, you know?”

“Ah,” you nodded, not really listening, focused more on your sudden guilt. What was wrong with you? “So, they… do block the sunlight, then?”

“A little, yes, but that’s not what I meant. More like… ah, never mind. It's silly.” He smiled, rubbing the back of his neck.

“Oh, sorry, I think I –,” you started, hands still in the air, but your thomas suddenly jerked forward, startled by a swarm of small, flying worms approaching. You had no time to hold on as it launched you down the sand dune, and you rolled all the way to the base. You lifted your head from the sand, shaking to get it out of your ears.

“(Y/N), get out of there!” Vash called, dismounting from his thomas and quickly heading over. You looked around to realize that you were sinking. You stood up fully, taking a step, but soon realized that your left leg was stuck in the sand, and you were quickly losing whatever footing you had. The pulling motion from the sand caused you to fall over again, leaving you clawing at your surroundings in an attempt to slow your descent.

Vash finally closed the distance and reached out for your hand, but he fell short just as your body disappeared completely. Panicked, Vash dove into the sand himself, digging around, trying to find anything of yours to grab onto. After a few seconds, he finally managed to get a grip on your pant leg, but as he hauled you up, he sank himself further. Vash scanned the area frantically, but found nothing to grab onto. Instead, he whistled to his thomas. The creature walked over to him, and he yanked on the lead. Furious, the thomas planted its feet firmly and tugged back, pulling both of you out of the sand in the process.

Coughing, you stood up from the ground, trying to regain your breath. “It’s here,” you wheezed “It’s buried under the sand.”

“How do you know?” Asked Vash, attempting to make peace with his angry thomas.

“I touched something hard down there. I stopped sinking at one point, and I felt like rock or metal or something,” you said, stopping to shake the sand out from places you never thought you’d have to shake it out of.

Vash squinted his eyes toward the rest of the sand dunes below, a worried look on his face. “You know, come to think of it, these sand dunes look different than I’ve seen in other places. They kind of resemble the terrain that sandsteamers cross.”

“Sandsteamers?”

“Giant ships that sail through the sand, basically,” he answered, looking around the area behind you, where the swarm of worms that had passed by not too long ago.

“Hmmm… yeah, I can’t picture it,” you admitted, scratching your head, wondering how a machine like that was even possible.

“And wherever there are those smaller worms in the daytime, there’s usually a…” he trailed off, deep in thought. “(Y/N), are you sure that what you touched was metal?”

“Either that, or rock. I mean, what else could it be?”

“There’s just one thing I need to rule out before we commit, but if I’m right, it might not be good news for us,” he said, hopping back on his thomas. “Quick, lets follow that swarm. But if I say run at any point, you run, okay?”

“But what about the metal?” You protested, mounting your thomas hesitantly. “What if the ship really is here, and we can’t find our way back?”

“We can find our way back if we need to,” he insisted. “Just trust me on this one, okay?”

With that, you both followed the swarm of flying worms for a while until you reached hard ground. The worms disappeared into smaller pockets of sand below.

“Yeah… I thought as much,” he muttered, and hopped off the thomas to touch his hand to the floor. It had discolored yet repeating markings all over it, along with several scuffs. You could have sworn you’d seen that subtle pattern before somewhere else. “(Y/N), what exactly did the ground beneath the ship look like?”

“It was mostly sand, really, but I suppose the spots where the metal dug into the ground did look a little like that.” You answered, staring at him curiously. “That… Is some strange looking rock.”

“That’s because what we are standing on is not rock at all,” he said, chewing his lip. “It’s a grand worm.”

“I’m sorry, a grand what?” You choked. “Grand and worm are two words I never want to hear in the same sentence. Ever!”

“Don’t panic. It’s not quite as bad as I thought,” he reassured you, continuing to brush his hands over different spots, and sweeping the sand away in certain areas. “I think this is a very old one. Ancient, probably only moves on occasion. Super lethargic. So, we aren’t in any real danger.”

Vash mounted his thomas once again, looking pensive. “Unfortunately, this also means that the ship might be even harder to find that we’d bargained for.”

“Seriously? Why is that?” You asked.

“Because I think the worm moved before we got here. And I’m starting to think the ship is lodged into one of its plates.”

You groaned, smacking your hand to your forehead. “Damn it… how the hell are we supposed to find it now?”

“If we are seeing its plates above the surface still, then that means the ship should be close enough to the surface for us to find it.” He scratched his head, looking around. “I think our best bet is to find pieces of upturned plates.”

“Well… the thing I touched was pretty level, so I guess that wasn’t it.” You squeezed your eyes shut and massaged your scalp, attempting to soothe your growing headache. “Ugh, we’re going to be here forever…”

“Really, you should count yourself lucky!” Vash pointed out with a smile on his face. “If this big guy hadn’t kept the ship moving around all those years, your ship might have been raided, and your pod could have been destroyed.”

“Oh. No. The horror.” You replied, rolling your eyes.

“You might not be happy you’re here, but for what it’s worth, I sure am,” he said, eyes softening in your direction. “And I’m sure Marlene and George would agree.”

You stared at him blankly for a few seconds, not sure what to say. What could you say? If you had a drop of water for every time someone told you something like this, you’d no longer be on a desert planet. Instead, you chose to say nothing, and shrugged the comment off, hoping he would drop it.

You and Vash began scouting the area with new search criteria in mind, but the atmosphere felt far heavier than it had before. You wanted to suggest splitting up to look for the ship, but you knew he’d never let you out of his sight. Especially not after your last interaction. You could feel the crushing weight of his gaze on your back as you ventured slightly ahead of him to avoid any more conversation. You just had to hold out until the supplies were dropped off in town. Then, you’d give him the slip for good.

“(Y/N),” called Vash from behind.

You ignored him and kept moving.

“(Y/N),” he called out again, louder this time. You bit your lip and turned around. Vash was pointing to a seemingly random sand dune nearby. You gave him a puzzled look, but followed him as he set off. When you came to a stop, you saw it: jagged-looking rocks protruding from the sand, all with the same pattern as the worm.

“I’m guessing this is close to where the ship is lodged, judging by the broken plate pieces sticking up,” you observed, crouching down to take a better look. Vash nodded, getting to work on digging the sand away. Slowly, the two of you revealed small parts of the ship underneath until you came across a slightly broken panel.

“Well, we’ve found our entrance,” he grunted, squeezing his hands in between the pieces. You scoffed and continued to dig, looking for a more viable option.

Suddenly, a horrible scraping sound rang loudly into the empty desert. Startled, you whipped around to see him rip the panel apart, and right off its bolts. The fingers on his prosthetic arm left deep indentations on the metal. You stared, a sense of dread washing over you. You were stuck here. You were stuck for as long as he wanted to keep you here. That much was certain.

You had a sneaking suspicion that escaping him would be borderline impossible, but seeing this monster in action really sealed the deal. You were only half joking when you said you could take him on before. Despite the impressive things you’d seen him do up to that point, you still had some hope that, if push came to shove, you could fight him off and go your own way. But now, all you could do was stare in horror at the torn-up sheet of thick metal, on what was supposed to be a space-faring craft.

“Now, (Y/N), if you’d do the honors –,” he started, with a triumphant grin on his face, but stopped upon noticing your petrified expression. “Wait – what’s wrong?”

“Nothing!” You shouted, much louder than you had intended, and turned around quickly to dig through your thomas’s saddle bags. You hastily pulled out your canteen and pretended to take a drink, but you couldn’t stop your hands from shaking. Tears were welling up in your eyes. You blinked them away as fast as you could and donned your best smile before turning back around. “I’m just… wow… impressed! That was impressive!”

Vash’s eyes lingered on the way your hands were gripping the canteen with strained knuckles. “Oh, thanks!” He replied, his overly cheery tone betrayed by the subtle frown on his face.

With slumped shoulders, Vash walked over to his thomas and pulled several empty bags to shove into his coat. He tossed a few in your direction and beckoned you to the entrance. With shaky steps, you followed in after him.

[smokeygrayrabbits]

vash is an old man. and a hoe. and a dumbass who doesn't learn his lesson. and a optimistic romantic.

vash is so in love with humanity. always running to their side, following them through the desert no matter how many times he gets burned, or shot or stabbed or abandoned. after the fall, he latches onto the ship 3 people. they take him in, they become his family. but he can't stay with them. he only puts them in danger by hanging around by syphoning off of them. a waste of space and resources and time. a plant who only takes, and he has so much to do. so much to repent for. so he goes out to find others. and he helps them too. repairing tech, building towns, taming the Thomases and hunting worms, all of them learning to live again, together. vash grows to love humanity even more than he ever throught he could. he'd read their stories and seeing their work on the ships, learning from their curiosity and their cultures. art and language and science and discovery, but now he sees them as people, he learns the old women on the corner makes the best donuts, but hates the cold. he learns that the little boy who lives in the third house down likes to watch the glowing worms and loves his mom. he lives with them and loves them, but vash has always had a habit of getting . . . too attached. he falls in love with every person he meets, and then he has to go they chase him out. run out of town by flames and bullets and angry, terrified screams. he loves every days and everyone, but sometimes he falls a little too hard. there was the barmaid with the green eyes and the laugh like the popping of a soda bottle that neither of them ever got to hear. there were bullets and a sad smile with a scarlet drip drip drip from the upturned corner of the softest lips he'd ever kissed. there was the inverters son who wanted to touch the stars, with his mechanical wings and flying machines that vash helped him build. with flames and crashing and shattered bones. a broken feather falling from the wing, from where vash had lovingly tucked it as a good luck charm.

vash tried not to get too attached after that.

and it worked! . . . until he met the the daughter of the local baker and the gun woman who'd been terrorizing the nearby towns, not that he was supposed to know that. her eyes were so full of life and passion and anger, so mad at the world that turned it's back on her father, yet still kind enough to save a stray dog from the cruel kids who decided to spend their afternoon chucking rocks at it. vash tried to keep her at arms length. he really did. but she took one look at him and decided he was a shady asshole who needed to be kept and eye on, and what was he supposed to do with those flaming eyes on him all day?!

nothing ever happened between them. she said she couldn't love someone with a death wish couldnt stand to be loved by someone who couldnt love himself. so he left. and she grew old.

she still writes him, every few towns he'll find a letter from her, all addressed to 'the angel with the watercolor eyes' in beautiful loopy handwriting. he can't forget. he doesn't want to.

he visits her, sometimes. she's old and grey now. dried out in the way a life in the desert does to someone.

it breaks him to go back there. to return to the one town that never chased him out in a hail of bullets.

he goes back.

she isn't there.

but there's a pair of twins with her flaming eyes, and they gasp at the sight of him.

'look! it's grandmas angel! I told you he was real!'

[manicpixiedreamjop]

every time I read a terror modern au i look out for tozer and try to think of what terrible nickname his obligatory Lads made for him this time. i just know they always have one... i just know Monday's Blue sol has a bunch of old rugby buddies out there who used to call him, like, fucking TwinkleToze

Hi I’m absolutely losing it over this thank you you’re 100% correct. It is already established that the rugby lads give each other extremely stupid nicknames (the saga of jirv not knowing des voeux’s real name) so I feel like they’d have some TERRIBLE ones for sol. TwinkleToze is probably something Bryant started calling him after he came out and he does not understand when the other lads try to explain it to him why it’s offensive

Also I misread this at first and thought you were saying sol calls other people terrible nicknames and I stand by my headcanon that because he knows too many Thomases he tries at least once to call Jop TJ and it does not go well for him

[chuthulhu-reads]

Some things I could not stop thinking about today:

In most iterations of Trigun it comes up sooner or later that, with the right programming and inputs, plants can generate more or less anything.

In most iterations of Trigun it comes up sooner or later that the inhabitants of Gunsmoke/No Man's Land really don't understand plants or how they work and barely know how to keep their systems running.

There are almost no animals on Gunsmoke except thomases (some kind of emu descendant?), some kinds of flighted bird, and cats (or maybe just one cat).

The people of Gunsmoke have access to things like milk (for Milly's puddings in the anime and Meryl's banana sundaes in the manga) and leather. Ostrich leather is a thing IRL, but where is the milk coming from? My supposition, unless someone's set up an Immortan Joe style of farm, is that there's a plant producing it (plants that flow with milk and honey would fit the theming...)

Vash also gets salmon sandwiches. This could be put down as early installment weirdness since it's in the first few chapters, or we could suppose that a water-producing plant is supporting a fish farm somewhere. My funnier, cuter mental image is of a plant with a bulb full of fish swimming around with her and she just makes more every time they get fished out.

There seems to be wood around, too, and there's no sign of forests being any part of Gunsmoke's ecosystem. Vash identifies a geo-plant; plants are capable of growing a variety of regular plants, likely including fruits, vegetables and grains, as well as trees and grass.

My conclusion: Plants can create conceivably anything, including very complex matter, the residents of Gunsmoke just don't know how to make it happen and are focusing most of their resources on survival essentials like water and heat and electricity. But imagine the possibilities. Maybe there is just a pudding-producing plant and nobody knows how to change its output. For all we know there could be a plant that solely outputs Mountain Dew Baja Blast. Maybe one produces tea, early grey, hot. Maybe there's one that doesn't just make wood or trees it fully generates rocking chairs. The phrase "Plant that makes designer items" has been rotating in my mind for a week. Please come play with me in this space Trigun fandom I have SO many thoughts

[lost-technology]

Stampede, as in Vash the Yeehawgust Day 5 - Stampede (A day late because I did not anticipate how long it would take me to do. I thought it best for a digital painting and I don't LIKE doing digital painting). Based on the Trigun Stampede iteration of the Trigun franchise, of course. Outalws have to get their names from somewhere. [IMG ID: Vash the Stampede, a young man in a bright red coat and spiky blond hair with a crystalline prosthetic left arm is in the process of being thrown off the saddle of a giant blue emu-like bird as many other giant blue emu-like birds run and kick up dust in the background. Profile shot. / END IMG ID.] I got so sick of drawing tomas / thomases. Get stuffed with garlic and sage and get in my oven.

[meanscarletdeceiver]

hihi, i saw your most recent(?) analysis on thomas. which has highkey made me see a different side to his character in a way. i'm autistic myself and have always found thomas extremely relatable in different ways. would you consider thomas to be autistic/nd in some way??

(btw ur blog is super cool !! sorry if it's a random question)

Random questions are fun! We should all send a lot more.

I'm not sure which post you're referring to. But yeah, I think a whole lot of autistic kids over the past few generations have related to Thomas for a reason!

It's a solid interpretation, albeit there are so many different Thomases that it's hard to drill down and talk about this until we're all on the same page with which characterization/continuity we're talking about.

[cinemaocd]

Off the top of my head Thomas Wyatt infodump for @beanifred

Re: The importance of Thomas Wyatt in Mirror and the Light (as well as Wolf and Bring up the Bodies).

Wyatt is a key figure in the books. HIs poetry is often a source of rumination for Cromwell. In Mirror and the Light Cromwell says things like "I love him more than any other living person" so I expect that he will also at least be a character in the upcoming season of the show, but I don't know. They left Wyatt out of the first season because there were already too damn many Thomases and it's difficult to dramatize Crom reading Wyatt's poetry or whatever. (Though you know he could be sprawled across his bed, feet crossed, drawing hearts around Wyatt's name like a stereotypical teenage girl... He is in my heart.)

Mantel explains the extraordinary lengths Cromwell goes to in order to protect Wyatt, who is more deeply implicated as a potential lover for Anne Boleyn than almost anyone else, by having Cromwell make a deathbed promise to Wyatt's father, John to protect Thomas Wyatt. And it's true that Cromwell had worked for John Wyatt prior to the time he went into Wolsey's service. But then he did favors for many noble families in Kent, usually via an older female relative (Mantel doesn't pull that "every woman is thirsty for our boy Crom out of nowhere).

But Cromwell frees Thomas Wyatt from the tower and goes out of his way to make sure that Wyatt does not meet the same fate that he, himself met a few years later...

[leona-florianova]

It's based on the Trigun manga more than the first anime, which only covered three volumes of the manga anyway.

Thats both true and...Not really.. not really at all...Characterizations and many events are waaay off... While... ok, it has aspects that are based on the manga, and so far the first episodes roughly mirror the first chapters... but its also pulling so much information from chapters waaay later on... many cool reveals and slow burns were burned off immediately, so to me it feels like its basically spoiling itself. * (for new fans who want to start with trigun ..if you like suspense and stronger payoffs of longer burns, watch the older anime or read the manga first)

While the old anime had a ton of extra filler stories that diverted from the manga, i appreciated that these eps helped flesh out the characters.. its not for everybody tho... Like honestly? I personally dont find the older anime sufficient either.. it has MANY FLAWS, but it gets some points from me cause it came way sooner than the manga was finished, so it makes sense it diverted a bit more and often felt like guessing itself... (also i like the designs more)

(oh yeah one thing from manga they got right so far.. Stampede Vash might no longer be a skirt chasing creep \o/ I need more ace vibes from him, so i count at least this as a win)

*

Next week will be third episide of Stampede and Vash will already meet Knives.. Before they even meet Wolfwood (who might appear at the end of the episode or right in the next).. But that doesnt really matter because Roberto is there and acts just like Wolfwood...

EG(g) will appear next episode and I have heard that in 4th will be Elendira.. That is extremely break-neck speed that diverts from manga so much its just????

And I cant get over how they downgraded Meryl.. She looks like a child and acts like a child..whos character will most likely start developing from "rookie reporter" the moment the "mentor" figure Roberto dies (I dunno if there are bets on that but if they were they arent in Robertos favor, even though so far hes my fav character in this)... AND There is still no Milly..and even worse...There is still no Kuro Neko..

THERE IS STILL NO KURO NEKO AND THOMASES LOOK JUST LIKE BLUE EMU WITH LONGER BEAKS WHHYyyyy

[natequarter]

it's a bit hard to identify name trends as such in the past, but the first half of the 1500s definitely had a thomas surge, right? there were so many fucking thomases