#wolfwood… those are just words.

[fleshmetal]

Collection of my favourite memes made by the team who worked on trigun ultimate overhaul bc they’re just so fucking good

Thank u overhaul team I owe u my life for the work u have done

[echoes-ofdawn]

here it is the master post for all my soul eater!au ideas (here are posts 1 and 2 + vashwood as souls), where I'll be periodically rebloging it whenever i think of something new! feel free to dm if you wanna talk about it and give me more ideas :) or point out any dumb contradictions but anyways lets go:

vash is the meister and wolfwood is the death scythe

wolfwood's original partner was livio but due to events livio is now presumed dead/missing, leaving wolfwood without a partner for a long time

livio is however very much alive and eventually he'll return with his new weapon who is razlo (how does it work? basically imagine razlo as ragnarok)

wolfwood scythe form is his giant machine gun (still thinking if he should be like tsubaki is able to change forms so that when he finally accepts vash as his partner he changes into vash's gun instead of always being a machine gun..... and can later transform into that wicked weapon vash's angel arm changes into)

vash himself is death (i suppose.. though nobody knows... yet) and he still brings chaos wherever he goes. he has been without a partner for a very very long time

due to walking around without a scythe, he has a lot of scars thanks to the fights he cannot avoid and his immense desire to save everyone

meryl and milly are naturally around and they are meister and weapon

they are currently looking for a chaotic meister that leaves a trail of destruction behind

when vash and wolfwood first start working together as partners, wolfwood makes his scythe self heavier just to see vash struggle as much as possible whenever they arent in combat because really what the fuck is up with this dude hating to kill?? you ARE literally death incarnate grow up

completelyyy unrelated to that is that people hear and tell many different versions of the same story: of a great battle many many many years ago that brought great destruction. despite names changing many times most seem to agree that one of the beings was called knives millions and that his heart only knew destruction. the ending differs for a lot of people, most agree there were no survivors but some believe there was only one because how else would the story exist ("ain't nobody surviving that, its just a story" an old man shook his head "but if someone did survive, they are either death or the devil itself")

so thus far no one has found out that vash is that "one" survivor nor have they found out that knives didnt actually die but instead he is trapped as vash refused to kill him then

but how long will he stay trapped? how long until he breaks free again?

[catsandcatci]

please stop infantilizing the career killer

[rush-the-stars]

the beginning and end (and what binds them together)

part i: gone, gone

✦—⋆𓆩✧𓆪⋆—✦

18+ minors dni

pairing: vashwood x gender neutral!reader

wc: 1.4k smh

cw: omegaverse au, beta!vash that can switch sexes, alpha!wolfwood, omega!reader, reader referred to as "kid" and "kit" by wolfwood. mentions of heats/ruts.

a/n: idk. i want to write this idea i wish i had more time to really get into it. but alack, alas...take this drabble introducing the concept. let me know what you think or if you wanna see more..,.or if you just wanna noodle about this au..,i have many thoughts...

✦—⋆𓆩✧𓆪⋆—✦

Heat mounts on the inside of you, growing into a fever pitch—your skin feels too tight, too thick. Your breathing has become sharp and quick—hiccups of air your poor lungs are greedily trying to pull down. You're trying to hide this, keep it from becoming obvious that you're—

You're going into Heat.

Well, to those around you, you're trying to play it off as a Rut.

Because to them, you're an Alpha.

Wolfwood curses as he nears you, "Christ, you're gettin' worse by the minute. When was your last Rut?" He reaches out to touch the burning heat of your forehead and many instincts battle at once—

One, to lean in. To sigh and press yourself closer. Wolfwood, much to your absolute fury, does smell nice to you—it'd be easy to melt into his touch. It'd be easy to give in to his rough voice, his calloused hands. But that's what an Omega would do—and you're no Omega to him.

You growl low as his palm presses to your forehead, bends to feel your cheek. You bare teeth and his lips kick up into an amused smile. "Take it easy," He cajoles, tapping your cheek roughly (perhaps just to get a rise out of you), "I'm just trying to look out for you, kid."

Unfortunately, he's the bigger Alpha—you've already scrapped with him plenty. Gotten pinned and pressed, his weight on top of you, baring fangs. He's established whose in charge and, beyond that, that he's fond of you in some way.

He tries to ruffle your hair and you snap—shoving at him, but he easily overpowers you.

Wolfwood tosses his gaze to Vash now. He's been suspiciously silent. "And how're you, blondie? Getting a little hot under the collar, too?"

Vash swallows hard. His eyes have gone fever bright like a burning jewel, a falling star. He's a Beta, but because of your sudden spike in pheromones, it's possible he'll be entering his own Estrus soon. You're not exactly sure how it works beyond circumstance; Betas will take on whatever sex their body believes is most likely to procreate in the moment. They’re fluid and—

Dangerous for you now, if his body decides—

“Doing okay!” Vash chirps nervously. “Uh—maybe it’ll pass me? Wolfwood, you should keep your distance, too.”

“I’m staying by the kit.” Wolfwood agrees, suddenly throwing his arm around your shoulders and tucking you into his side. You fight the noise that almost escapes, being so surrounded by his scent; warm and spiced, musky and soft around the edges. Ah—

You see why Vash got nervous.

Wolfwood's scent is burnt around the edges, too strong. No doubt because he’s surrounding himself with an Omega’s scent and not—

Well you’re not a kit; not a young Alpha at all.

(Such an infuriating name, anyways. Childish and condescending.)

“Yeah but—“ Vash’s eyes bounce between the two of you, “You’re making their pheromones spike worse by irritating them and that’s,” he searches for the right words, “making it worse for me.”

Wolfwood’s brows lift. He glances at you, wrestled beneath his arm, “Kit’s gotta learn how to be around other Alphas like this, it’s good for a pack—good for others, too. It’s supposed to provide a buffer for you.”

In a pack, when there are no eligible Omegas or Betas, Alphas will endure their Ruts with other Alphas who can handle them—keep them in check. Their scent also dampens the Rutting Alpha’s—sort of keeps it from growing too strong. Wolfwood is, for all intents and purposes, being a good Alpha right now, attempting to shepherd you along while keeping Vash safe.

Vash looks at you now and you can see how nervous he is; you glance away sharply. Wolfwood is warm—too warm—and you’re starting to get a head rush, being this close to him. You’re fighting back a whine in the back of your throat, trying to hold down the ache in your body that is building and building and building.

A cramp rolls through you and your knees almost buckle with it.

“C-can I get water?” You finally pipe up, “I’m dying.” You almost whine. And this is—normal, for an Alpha.

“I’m feeling thirsty, too.” Vash agrees quickly.

Wolfwood huffs, finally dropping his hold on you, “I’ll go find some. Behave while I’m gone.” And as he saunters away, you finally release a hard breath you hadn’t realized you’d been holding.

You need—you need to sit down. You stumble a little for it, for the edge of the bed in this motel at the corner of the world. Vash wipes at his brow. You feel his eyes more than you see them, feel them pressing into your shoulder blades, right in the center of your back.

“Doing okay, Vash?” You can’t help but snap a little, on guard.

He wanders nearer to you.

“Doing okay.” Vash repeats, softer this time. He settles gingerly on the edge of the bed, near you but not touching. Such a respectful distance away. And yet—

You catch his scent. Thistle and petrichor. Sunlight, so warm it melts on the tongue. Musky, far muskier than you were anticipating.

You shift—squirm. Another cramp twists in your lower back, your hips flexing with it.

“How are you doing?” He asks, so gentle that it makes your teeth grind.

“Fine.” You snap, waspish, and at least, in character for an Alpha.

Vash sighs though, a slow breath through his nose.

“We need to get you somewhere safe.”

You know but—technically—as an Alpha, you should be safe here. With Wolfwood. Vash is the one who everyone should be worried now.

“Wolfwood will handle it—“ You try and say.

Vash frowns, “Uh—right. And usually, I’d agree except—“ His eyes cut to you like a lightning bolt, searing and bright;

“I’m not going into Heat—I’m going into Rut.”

Your head jerks to him. You feel the world tilt, slide out from underneath you sharply, your stomach dropping with it. If Vash is going into Rut, that means—

Vash gives you wane, sympathetic look.

“That only happens if an Omega in Heat is near.” He says gently, quietly, as if he’s afraid to startle you.

Which means, he's figured you out.

And that also means, you’re about to go into Heat, with an Alpha, and a Beta on the cusp of Rut.

Your cover is blown, dashed all to pieces in an instant. All your hard-fought control and secrecy; all of your planning and carefully crafted existence, gone up in flames with a few, simple words. In this moment, you see your life—this life of yours that you fought for, tooth and nail, this independence you clawed for, you were forced to endure, gone like the wind through your fingers. Like your dreams in the early, soft parts of the morning.

You try to get up, maybe run, but Vash catches your wrist before you can get anywhere.

His touch is searing. For some reason, you always thought he'd be chilled. Maybe because he's a Plant, maybe because of his robotic limb. But he's warm, so warm that it startles you. When you look at him, you realize his face is flushed red, dusted along his cheeks.

"Don't run." He pleads, "It's not safe."

When Wolfwood appears again in the doorway, water in hand, you wrench your wrist from Vash's grasp.

"What's going on?" Wolfwood asks, and before you can shove past him, he snags your bicep. Firmer than Vash, yanking you back to him, "hey—slow down, kid. What happened?"

"I'm—uh, not going into Heat." Vash says sheepishly.

Wolfwood tears his eyes away from you to look at Vash for a moment, before returning to you. "Well—should make it easier, right?"

"No—" You shake your head, pressure behind your eyes building rapidly, suddenly there and aching. All you can think is—it's gone, all gone. Tears well up. You force your brow to furrow, force your anger to be a shield, and force that little glare to mar your features once more;

"Because I'm the one going into Heat."

Wolfwood's face rounds out with surprise. You lurch out of his grasp in a sudden, harsh move.

"Don't follow me!" You say.

And you slip from him like the wind through his fingers, like dreams in the early, soft part of the morning.

He reaches for you again, but you're already gone

[gamerbot-22]

Spending Valentine's Day with the Trigang!

GIF by the-princess-cinnamon

TW/CW: Written with a combination of traits from across Trigun versions, written with the idea that they and reader are in a relationship (separately), lots of pet names!!! (Mayfly, Angel, Honey, Sweetheart), I am aiming to make y'all's teeth rot on how sweet these are, barely proofread and I appreciate spellchecks!

Characters Included: Vash the Stampede, Nicholas D. Wolfwood, Meryl Stryfe, Milly Thompson, Millions Knives/Nai

Recommended Listening: my love, mine all mine . a short playlist

A/N: Happy Valentine's Day, everyone! I hope you all are having a wonderful day, whether you have a partner to spend it with, a friend, or just your lovely self <3

Likes and Reblogs appreciated (reblogs > likes) and Requests are Open! It’s all under the cut!

Dividers in this post were made by @/strangergraphics ☆

🥀 Vash the Stampede

GIF by kvroko

He is the most lovesick man in the world on this day, let me tell you.

You wake up and see him in bed next to you just absolutely whipped. He wraps an arm around your waist and nuzzles in close and his first words are "Happy Valentine's, Mayfly..." before just drowning you in kisses.

Originally the plan was he would get up and make you breakfast in bed but he got all caught up in being close to you. So you're making breakfast together! It turns out nice, even if you two struggle to get it right.

There's not really flowers on Gunsmoke, but he knows what they look like. So you get a drawing of all sorts of flowers, with meanings only half-remembered from books he used to pour over as a kid.

If you got him anything it takes all of his effort not to fall apart on you. (Please get him something sweet, he deserves it!!)

He wants to take you dancing so baaaad. Like serious bad. There is nothing he loves more than getting to just be close to you and spin you around.

Vash spends all day trying to find a place to take you dancing, but it's a little hard to do that when you're an outlaw and an outlaw's partner. The effort is there but it just doesn't pan out.

But you know? There's something special about slow dancing with Vash by the fire out in the desert while he hums a song to you under the stars <333

🍭 Nicholas D. Wolfwood

GIF by mine-loves

I don't think Valentine's Day had been on his radar in a very very long time, so it's probably either day of or immediately upon waking up where he realizes "Oh shit, I need to do something--"

You're about halfway through the morning thinking that you're not getting anything from him when he nearly goes ass over teakettle rushing over to you. He has a half-crushed box of sweets in one hand and a bottle of something bubbly in the other and the most embarrassed look on his face.

He mumbles out a "Sorry, Angel, I almost forgot--" and holds both gifts out to you with his head bowed, like a shy kid or a nervous dog. But you take them in your hands and give him a kiss on the cheek and he doesn't feel as bad.

You two end up sharing, and while the sweets and drinks might be cheap, the time isn't. Hell, maybe you two even end up feeding each other like those sappy couples in those newspaper ads.

He's not a man of flowery words, but he did learn a lot about the saints as a kid. I don't think Wolfwood would frame it as a gift or anything, but when there's a quiet moment he tells you the story of St. Valentine if you're willing to listen.

"He used to perform weddin's for people 'n secret," he tells you, one arm wrapped around your shoulders. "People weren't too big on the Man Upstairs back in the day, so what he was doin' was pretty dangerous. Didn't stop him, though. Or the people he married."

Then he turns his head away from you to save some face. He doesn't want to put too many ideas in either of your heads, but... the idea is kinda nice. For the future.

Once he gets past the nerves though, you get all the kisses you could want. From the crown of your head to your eyelids to your cheeks to your lips. He has a new favorite holiday <333

📸 Meryl Stryfe

GIF by mine-loves

"Ah, honey! My birthday was yesterday! You already got me a gift; you didn't have to get me anything, really!"

She says that, but honestly she's really happy that you would go out of her way to give her a gift a second day in a row. Like! You didn't have to!! But you did!!!

So she takes it and gives you a kiss and when she pulls away her face is so pink. It's precious, and with her soft cheeks she looks a bit like a sweet all on her own.

And you get such a nice gift in turn. I think she's the type to get you something to wear or decorate yourself with, so she gives you this really beautiful pendant on a chain to wear either around your neck or wrapped tight around your wrist.

She also does her damndest to have a nice dinner reservation lined up, if you're in a part of Gunsmoke that allows. She wants to get all dolled up with you and just have a nice evening in whatever luxury an insurance agent/newspaper reporter's salary can get you.

And after dinner, if you still have energy, maybe you can go to a show together! Surely somebody has to be doing something on a stage nearby, right? And if they serve food too, you can share a dessert while you listen.

I think you two end up at a comedy show and have a great time, either laughing until your sides get sore or sharing some amused-if-sympathetic if the person on stage is floundering.

By the end of the night, Meryl's pretty beat and ready to just prop herself up in bed with you. I don't think she even makes it out of her clothes, she just lays her head on your chest and drifts off on the spot <333

💼 Milly Thompson

Breakfast! In! Bed! For! Her! Sweetheart!!!

You get the absolute gentlest wake-up call. She puts her hand on your shoulder, kisses your temple, and chimes "Good morning, sweetheart! Happy Valentine's!"

While you eat she gives you her big plan for the day: Nothing! She just wants to stay in with you and relax all day. And she seems so genuinely excited for that it's nigh impossible to tell her no, especially when she assures you that she still has special things to do in mind.

Once you're both ready to be up and out of bed, she gets the radio tuned to you guys' favorite music station so there's a nice backdrop to all your activities.

Then you spend the whole day just. Making things together. Poetry, stories, silly songs for just the two of you, and all the while there's that lovely music playing and a batch of cookies in the oven for later.

And once the cookies are done and cooled, it's time to ice them! You have so much fun mixing colours and making all these pretty patterns that look absolutely nothing like the book you're using for reference.

At first, Milly is a little upset she's not as good as the pictures, but you help her realized two very important things: no one else could make patterns exactly like she is, and they'll taste delicious either way!

Your evening is spent feeding each other cookies and going over all the things you've made together, and when you kiss each other goodnight you both taste like icing <333

🔪 Millions Knives/Nai

WE'RE PLAYING IN THE SPACE HE'S HERE TOO!! Nai lovers I see you and I love you!!! /p You deserve some time with your man on the holiday, too!

I don't think he would really mention the holiday or observe it in any special way, but like...

If he's playing his piano and you come in and be quiet, he won't stop. Even when he sees you sitting on the floor or leaning against the piano out of the corner of his eyes.

He has that one piece he plays all of the time, Visitation of a Calamity/Memory of a Piano, but it's not the only one he knows. After he's finished with that one for this bout of practice, he shifts into another one.

It's calming by some definition. It's still very powerful, and it reverberates off the ceiling and in your ribs, but it doesn't feel like the usual posturing that the other piece evokes.

It's sweeping still, but less a torrent and more a breeze that catches the folds of your clothes and the air from your lungs. It feels a little like flying, you think.

He doesn't say a word to you until he finishes the suite, then without even looking at you, he asks "Is there something you needed me for?"

And I mean... is there? <333

[orangetintedglasses]

Wolfwood doubts that Vash bothers celebrating Christmas, and he can't blame him. He doesn't really either, he just does the gift-giving part. Usually the people celebrating the holiday worship the two Angels, and while Wolfwood will gladly get on his knees for Vash, he'd rather not think of him as some holy deity, thanks. Angelic, yes. An actual angel? Well, he'd expressed discomfort with the idea in the past, so an angel Vash is not. Finding a gift for someone who doesn't ask for anything other than a box of donuts from time to time is harder than it seems. How's he supposed to pick out a gift that fits perfectly between the 'casual' and 'you may as well propose to the guy' categories? He hasn't even had the courage to tell Vash how he feels about him yet either, so maybe this would be a good opportunity to. Maybe. Hopefully. It'd also be a good time to give Vash a different kind of present, but that's neither here nor there. Trinkets of any decent quality are rare finds on Noman's. Rarer still are the ones without any kind of religious inspiration. Eventually Wolfwood finds an eclectic collector's shop with myriad baubles. Immediately, what catches his eye is a whiskey flask with the words "Holy Water" printed on it, so he of course needs to pick that up as a little gift to himself. It'll probably ignite one of Vash's contagious laughs—a brilliant light in an endless dark void. What in the world is worthy of being given to Vash the Stampede? He grumbles over this for some time before the owner of the shop takes pity on him and approaches, concerned. Immediately, she picks him out as a 'boyfriend getting his partner something for their first Christmas' type. As embarrassing as it is, Wolfwood relents, which leads to the present moment, when Vash convenes with him at their hotel room: "I know you… probably don't care about Christmas—I don't really either—but I wanted to get you something," he begins, nervous as all getup. Wolfwood pulls a gift bag from behind his back, then offers it to the blond. "I like to do stuff for the kids, you know? But this time I had to give a gift to you as well. You're pretty hard to shop for, has anyone ever told you that? Jeez…" Inside the sparkly red bag is an instant-print camera and a brand-new journal—oversized, presumably, to fit photos into. "I know you got a photographic memory, but… thought it might be nice to, uh, keep some, I guess. You know, in case you go forgetting stuff again. And also for the sake of those of us who don't have the ability to remember what they had for dinner 75 years ago. Might be nice, is all." He turns away to avoid watching Vash's gaze, but remembers that he's absolutely guilty of wanting to see the way those blue, glassy eyes glimmer with excitement, so he braves the fear and meets them head-on, determined. "I… have another gift for you but I still… need to wrap it. Go get us some hooch or something and come back in an hour." @forgivenpunishment

Well now! Didn't that put his little gift idea to shame?

In a funny way, of course-- Vash didn't actually think of it like that. It was just kind of a funny coincidence that Wolfwood had also gone out to find him something for the whole holiday thing, and apparently had a difficult time of it. Which was fair; he'd been told quite a few times that he was hard to get gifts for in the past. Partly because he didn't really ask for or openly want anything, and party because he was happy with anything people were willing to give him, which apparently just made that even more difficult? But even just thinking about him was more than enough--

This, though, this gift was... not only very sweet, but extremely thoughtful. Both of which had seemingly caught the Plant a bit off-guard as he looked into the bag.

"This is..." even just those two words, ushered out with the tail end of an exhale and barely audible, sounded completely awed by what Wolfwood had found. Vash lifted his gaze from the contents of the bag; summer sky blues positively sparkling with adoration as they caught the light at that angle.

Then Wolfwood mentioned having another gift, and that sent dark brows shooting straight up.

"Something else...? Y-you didn't have to-- I mean, this is more than-- I--" the poor thing blustered, flushed and a bit all over the place (and a little confused: he needed another hour to wrap something else when this had been put in a bag?) now that the situation called for his brain to be put to use. Eventually he caught himself, and just... nodded. Smiled and nodded. Beamed and nodded, really-- "y-yeah, okay. An hour. You got it~."

He did still have to set the gift down for safekeeping (no way was he risking bringing this outside yet!) and grab the rest of his cash before he set off as requested... buuut not before stealing a quick kiss from the undertaker; catching his upper lip in something sweet and warm and, again, quick--

"Thank you. Seriously, this is... really amazing, Wolfwood." he said. Decent as he usually was at withholding his lovesick glances until Wolfwood's back was sufficiently turned, the blond just couldn't help himself this time. His moony gaze drifted slowly from his boyfriend's light blue eyes down to his mouth, then back up again before he finally pulled away to get himself sorted and headed out the door.

The Plant was reluctant to part, but Wolfwood had specifically asked, after all.

"Be back later, yeah?"

[honeygem]

Stockholm Syndrome - Choose your Own Ending

Contains: dead dove: do not eat, smut, hired gunman, cnc, a change of heart, attempted murder/suicide, choking, unspecified character, undetailed/inaccurate venture to the dark web, slow burn, y/n has a specified descriptions but still generalized, mentions of various sex toys, kissing, safe word use, Stockholm syndrome,

a/n: unhealthy coping mechanism, this is purely self indulgent(heavy on self indulgent); I am back in the same building again?!

Dottore, William Afton, Hayakawa Aki, Childe, Capitano, Pierro, Barou Shouei, Michael Kaiser, Oliver Aiku, Itto, Dang Heng, Blade, Nicholas D. Wolfwood, Million Knives, Taiju Shiba, Jing Yuan, Denji, Beam, Scaramouche, Ran Haitani, Rin Haitani, Gojo, Geto, Sukuna, Toji, Kisaki Tetta,

I've thought about this for a long time.

I've always had thoughts about it, on and off, yet I never had the guts to actually do it. I know I could. However I've always hesitated thinking about what I'd leave behind.

What about mom? What about dad and his heart disease? My pet cat? What about my favourite books? Hobbies? Series? Will I ever finish them before my time runs out? Will I ever know their ending? What about my money I still haven't received from my friend, will she still give it back when I died?

Do I need to make an email for all my friends and family and have it sent days after I die? What should I say to them? I wanted to confess all my sins— my shortcomings, to my parents. Finally, I can let them down one last time by unleashing all these kept secrets and disappointments. By then, will they pity me for enduring this life for too long or will they resent me for tainting our family name and being a disgrace?

I sat in front of my computer, alone in my room with no other noise but the fan and dogs barking outside. It feels like time stopped at this moment. Like I could continue with my life without any consequences. However I knew time won't stop for anyone... and so does my thoughts.

Instinctively, like a flash if light, I typed in words I never expect to see appear on my computer history.

I did it... I entered the dark web.

I laughed to myself, almost insanely. This is getting too ridiculous, even for myself. Am I really not going to turn back now? Perhaps I could still close my computer and forget about this.

My body moved on its own, ignoring the warnings running inside my head. It felt like a dozen of red lights flashing inside my head signaling me to stop but I was blind and floored the gas pedal.

I searched desperately for something as if running out of time was part of the risk in doing what I needed to to; it was. I needed to finish this as soon without having anyone know or see it.

I needed it to be done quickly before I crumble down to myself once again and break down.

I managed to keep my mind shut from overthinking and stressing over the fact that this was too much for me. I couldn't afford distractions.

I've accumulated enough money to buy myself a hitman, set aside enough money for my funeral expenses, and enough money to support my family just in case they broke down once I'm gone; I hoped that they won't.

It's been months since I ventured in the dark web. Weeks have passed since I finished writing all the emails to be sent to my family and a few of my friends. Weeks have passed since I acquired a few more money to add to what I'll leave for my parents. And days have passed since I tried to finish everything in my bucket list except for two things.

During those days, I lived my life normallyas I did before. I spent time with my family, bonded with my friends, and caught up with my favourite series to whatever I can catch up to with my limited time. It was as if what happened a few months ago didn't happen.

It felt like a fever dream... but I knew it was real.

This was all a facade. A play to perform until it was the end of the show.

Today's the day, I guess. Or maybe not. I had completely forgotten. How could I ever forget about it? Nevermind, at least I finished what I needed to do.

I had planned to go out today and luckily I didn't have any errands to run. I had made sure to clean the house before I left and gave my mom a goodbye and an 'I love you', a habit I developed these past few months. At first it felt weird but it gave off some sort of relief and goodness in me. I smiled when I heard my mom say it back before I left.

At this point, I can feel myself close to crying... even when I've done this multiple times, gaslighted myself it was for the better, I still felt unsure and scared as I walk along my chosen path.

Maybe I wasn't meant to do this....

It had gotten very late and I still wasn't at home. I've destroyed my phone completely and disposed it somewhere. I assumed that my parents are now looking for me... desperately.

I had went inside the location an unknown messenger had sent me a few days ago. Room 44 of a motel miles away from home.

Perhaps the further I go from home would be better.

I've arrived at the designated room and no one was inside. The room was dimly lit with red highlights, flower petals and scented candles lit everywhere. It awfully gave a romantic vibe for a crime scene that was about to happen.

No one was present in the room but me so I closed the door and inhaled the scent coming from the candles. I wandered around the room and looked at the details further.

I inspected the bed a little closer and saw various sex toys displayed. Some were ropes, whips, paddle, and lots more. I even saw a spreader bar at the bottom of the bed, as well as a few more dildos and extra condoms in the box and other more stuff I don't recognize.

I don't really expect to use all of these in one night... I might not even last an hour.

"Oh, hey. You're here." A man came out of the bathroom.

Good ending, bad ending, deulon's ending Buy me a ko-fi?

[forgivenpunishment]

⩥ @orangetintedglasses || tripwire [plotted starter]

Sometimes, when Wolfwood closes his eyes, he's back in that place.

JuLai, but not the operating table—not anymore. Those nightmares are much rarer than the ones where he's suspended in mid-air, pinned to a sleek metal platform that looms over where Vash—

—No, not Vash. It was Knives's will, Knives torturing him, Knives controlling Vash's every move, every decision...

...Where that thing wearing Vash's skin would rest occasionally. It didn't need to rest, but it'd spend time with him by gazing upon Wolfwood as though he were a work of art. It'd marvel at how the undertaker's wounds would close around kingpins that it personally pushed through precisely chosen locations on his body. They were symmetrical, clinical, and impossible to break through.

It was exactly what he deserved for leading Vash to JuLai in the first place.

Day after day, he'd spend sleepless hours with his eyes forced open due to pain; the needles would provide him with the bare nutrients required to survive, along with doses of serum to keep the wounds shut. If Wolfwood deigned to struggle, it would only make the pain worse.

His reward at the end of each day was always a genuine smile from Vash.

Not Vash.

He'd managed to escape once by feigning death—it was risky, but the trick caused doctors—the Doctor included—to take him down and run tests on him before attempting to resuscitate him. The Doctor found himself at the edge of a blade for scolding his boss for keeping his prized subject at death's door, which quickly shut him up.

By the time he returned, Wolfwood's departure was marked by dead assistants—one of their coats missing.

Wolfwood met up with Meryl after that, who was assisting the survivors of the twins' wrath. He never did give her details.

Not that it mattered, since Vash was hot on his tail as soon as he noticed his darling moth was missing.

'Why risk your life out here, when it's safe at my side?'

'Don't you know it hurts to watch something so precious to me throw itself into danger?'

'Let me protect you, darling moth; you don't belong with humanity. You never have.'

———

The final words caress his mind with barbed wire before he awakens with a jolt. Wolfwood's heart pounds too fast for its cage, wishing once more to be let out. It's still dark, the room is too hot, the blankets are too suffocating—but he has chills as he sweats with wide eyes and a panting mouth. Vash, somehow, sleeps beside him, curling up against the wadded up blankets that Wolfwood shoved aside and making a noise of protest.

On nights like these, he wishes he could see the moment for what it is—a nightmare about some place he'll never return to—but generally the emotionally dense undertaker must get up out of bed, take a shower, and smoke.

Smoke... a lot. Until the suns rise. He's starting to believe that the smell and the hiss of his breath keep Vash asleep, like a soothing lullaby. Thankfully, this gives him plenty of time to shove that nightmare back where it belongs—in a trunk with a broken lock, hidden in an attic that someone hid by covering the entrance.

He ignores how the trunk seems to open more often lately.

Vash always asks him about what's wrong, and Wolfwood never gives him an answer other than, 'Just a nightmare, don't worry about it.' While it was a point of tension once, now it's just more of an annoyance than anything else for the both of them. The silver-eyed man's capacity for affection breaks on these days, often not wanting to be touched until finally, finally he sidles up to Vash at night and offers an apology. It seems to hurt them both, but there's a mutual understanding. Sort of. Sometimes he makes it up to Vash in bed, just to make him forget anything was wrong in the first place. It only sort of works.

This time however, the spell of the nightmare has lasted two full days. Wolfwood didn't sleep last night and added whiskey to his medical routine at four in the morning. Just... something to take his mind off of it. Just for a little while.

(It doesn't work, it only makes the memories louder.)

Though he goes through what would be enough to get a normal man plastered, it barely affects him as they drive onward to the next town without power. They're finally almost done with fixing all of these damn power grids that got shorted out from whatever took out Vash for almost a whole day. He just needs to get through these last few towns, and then maybe he can muster up the strength to tell Vash just how much he needs him—how much he cares, how strongly he loves him... something like that. It sounds nice.

(It doesn't soothe him like it should, though. The thought stresses him out even more, worrying that he can't love him when these bouts of tension haunt him like a swarm of earthquakes.)

He hasn't said a damn thing all day by the time they reach the next town—some backwater place named New Plymouth. Wolfwood parks Angelina someplace he deems secure, then tucks his goggles into a sidepack and autonomously circles around the vehicle to help Vash out of the sidecar. His eyes almost look devoid of life as he holds out a hand, staring over Vash's shoulder instead of making eye contact.

It's going to be a long day. Again.

[bendycxmet]

content: 825 words. fluff, lil suggestive (mostly in another language), spanish speaking wolfwood, cowboy/vaquero wolfwood

Cowboy!Wolfwood who needs a farmhand for his ranch. He sees the desperation in your eyes as you peruse the shops in town, and offers you the position.

Cowboy!Wolfwood who is smooth in every way possible, all lingering gazes, hot, fleeting touches as he instructs and shows you how to fix the gate fencing in his cattle. The first time he brought you to his ranch miles away from town, he hopped off his horse and immediately helped you down as well, but instead of letting go of your hands, he gripped them tighter, turning them over this way and that, inspecting something you perhaps hadn’t seen. Your heart rate increases, a blush spreading along your body as he rubs his callused hands and fingers against the soft flesh of your own. “Que delicadas…” he muses, and drops your hands, sadly, the warmth of him whisked away with the biting wind.

Cowboy!Wolfwood dresses always in his signature suede sombrero, with a black and silver embroidered poncho constantly hiding the matching black underneath, the only difference being the brown leather chaps just running short from the bottom of his dirtied and muddy boots that stomp down the hallway early in the morning, rousing you from your sleep in your assigned bedroom. It’s an outfit that wouldn’t be flattering if it were on anyone else but Wolfwood. 

Cowboy!Wolfwood and you slowly become used to each other’s company, working in fluidity to keep the ranch running like a well-oiled machine. You discover he has a joking side to him once the ice thaws between the two of you, cracking constant jokes at you with a toothpick lodged between his teeth–a habit he now has as he attempts to kick cigarettes since you mentioned you hate the smell. 

As easygoing as he is, he takes his ranch responsibilities seriously. You watch as he rides his stallion, hands off from the reins as he twirls and lassos a stray calf, muscled thighs hugging his steed, hips following the rhythm of her trotting. Your eyes never leave his form, your body hot from watching his. A loud whistle cuts through your ogling.

“Mind opening the gate?” he shouts, chuckling at your stuttering. You quickly open it for him, watching as he guides the calf inside to join her herd. He stops in front of you, poking fun at your flustered state.

“I just think you ride Angelina so gracefully! I wish I could ride a horse as good as you.” 

He laughs lowly and moves to leave through the gates, but not before you hear him mumble “tengo algo más que puedes montar…”

Cowboy!Wolfwood isn’t just a cowboy living on the outskirts of a town that welcomes him, but he also holds the duty of a priest, going into town for Sunday morning mass, shaking hands with everyone, exchanging easygoing smiles and inquiries into each and every person’s daily life. From your spot across the street, you would think he was a different man from the one who curses when he gets a splinter, but a glance down erases all doubt as you see the same dirty boots that traverse the ranch home’s hallways peeking out from his priestly garments.

“Not very Catholic of you to wear your boots with those robes you know. Why not wear the dress shoes you have shoved in the back of the hallway closet?”

He leans down from behind to whisper in your ear, rosary gracing your shoulder. 

“It’s simply not how I work, mi cielo,” his answer comes quickly, quick enough that he’s conversing with a blonde churchgoer by the time you whip your head around. 

Cowboy!Wolfwood’s lingering gazes no longer linger, the grazing touches turning into caresses even in the midst of your duties. Your bantering and joking only intensify as does your chemistry, but Wolfwood begins to throw in more flattering remarks about your work, and you. Mi alma. Corazón. Tesoro. His nicknames for you begin to flow and ebb seamlessly into your conversations, so smoothly said that you nearly miss them each time. But he never turns his loving words into actions. You begin to get impatient.

Cowboy!Wolfwood’s eyes widen, his toothpick falling from his lips.

 “Come again?” he asks you. 

“Si no me besas en el próximo momento, ya me voy de aquí. Wolfwood, please.” 

He crosses the distance between you in half the time it would usually take him. 

“How long have you known what I have been saying?” he begs you, the embarrassment evident on his tanned cheeks, the callused hands you have been dreaming of holding you like that first day coming up to caress your jaw. 

“Desde el día que te conocí,” you say. Since I met you… I have loved you since the day I met you. 

He brings his face down to you, soft and sun-chapped lips meeting yours, his sombrero tipping to fall to the dirt behind him. 

a/n: pspsps @ayyydra and @aboveweirdest for all our screaming about cowboy wolfwood, i deliver some HCs xoxo

i tried to keep it gender neutral as possible but damn spanish is a very gender heavy language (that being said, there is many nicknames i wanted wolfwood to call you e.g. precioso/a (precious), hermoso/a (beautiful), querido/a (beloved) but the ones i wrote out are for everyone.

some translations:

“Que delicadas…” = "How delicate..."

"Tengo algo más que puedes montar…"= "I have something else you can ride..."

"Mi cielo. Mi alma. Corazón. Tesoro." = My heaven/sky/darling (idk it can mean many things). My soul. My heart. My treasure.

“Si no me besas en el próximo momento, ya me voy de aquí." = "If you don't kiss me in the next moment, I'm leaving this place."

"Desde el día que te conocí." = "Since the day I met you."

masterlist

divider

[melpcmene-arch]

"No, no shooting." Not here. Not in this alleyway. Not when the bullets could ricochet and hit someone and hurt them, or worse, kill them. He gave him a sour look; an almost formed pout on his lips before it dropped. He mentally psyched himself up for this. Kissing was not something that Vash ever expected. But it was better than anything, even better than shooting. It'll save lives. That's what Vash thought to himself as he ignored the butterflies in his stomach.

His mind questioned the choice of Wolfwood bringing out his sunglasses, but soon that thought evaporated when a pair of hands cradled his face.

It's a surprise, one that soon discarded with the sudden task at hand. But it almost caught Vash off guard. He breathed in deeply. His cheeks burning. The kiss was delicate. A gentle pressing of lips, pushed together. It felt like an awkward kiss, like the first kiss between two people. Which is technically what it was.

Vash tested the waters and pushed forward, intentively kissing back. He's kissed a lot of people. A lot. So many ladies── yeah, that's a lie. But then Wolfwood dipped the other and Vash almost yelped. It was unexpected, but luckily Vash's yelp was muffled by Wolfwood's lips.

His cheeks burned more, and his heart was now throbbing in his ears. But he added to the charade in hopes that the gunmen were fooled by their plan. A stupid plan. One mentioned in romance books. ( A thing mentioned by Rem. ) But he spoke in a different language: french. He mutters out sweet nothings, all in french to provide fire to this already burning illusion crafted by them.

One hand cupped at Wolfwood's cheek while an arm was thrown over the back of his neck, still muttering and praising in french.

The gunmen witnessed this, and eventually muttered something, grumbling underneath their breaths. "Fuckin' couple wasting out times. C'mon! I bet they haven't gone far! This way!" And soon the gunmen footsteps faded away, and Vash was maybe a bit focused on kissing Wolfwood before snapping out of it: "I... I think they're gone now." He mutters, ignoring the heat on his cheeks. He sums it up to the cold, that's why his cheeks were like that. Definitely. "Wow."

@melpcmene 𝐅𝐚𝐤𝐞 𝐎𝐮𝐭, 𝐌𝐚𝐤𝐞 𝐎𝐮𝐭 ~ (contiuned)

✞ ⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯ "At least with bullets, I can shoot back," Wolfwood mutters with a sullen sigh. Of all the things to get mixed up in, kissing Vash the Stampede was not on Nic's bucket list. He'd rather stand his ground, but they were cornered, trapped like rats in an alleyway. A fitting comparison with how disheveled they are.

"Let's at least make this count," the priest grumbles, possibly too soft & miffed for Vash to hear. He briefly wipes his coat off before securing his sunglasses. Who the fuck wears sunglasses at night? He does. Without another word, Wolfwood reaches to cradle Vash's face.

Pucker up ~ he thinks but doesn't dare speak as the voices of the gunmen grow louder. They aren't even trying to be sneaky at this point.

"Where they at?"

"I see something this way."

Wolfwood leans in, planting a delicate kiss at first. It was more like touching lips more than anything, but when the gunmen come around the corner, Nicholas swoops his arm behind Vash & dips the Typhoon with a less subtle kiss. & because the moment calls for it... his back foot pops up & points into the air.

[novasintheroom]

066. Irritate

♡ Pairing - Vash x Reader

♡ Word count - 1.4k

♡ Warnings - Vash being annoying, he pinches your butt once

♡ Description: Vash is in a mood today, and you have to take the brunt of it.

Now part of the 150 Bullets drabble series on AO3

Vash is in a mood today.

The others don’t see it. How could they? They’ve only known him for four months.

You, however, have almost seventy years of knowing him.

And you’re on your toes.

It starts in the morning when everyone is still waking up. The light of dawn is gray, casting silver sands across the horizon. Meryl and Millie are packing up their sleeping bags, while Wolfwood putters around with Vash, loading up the heavier equipment. Quiet chatter or grumbles is all anyone can muster.

You’re kicking sand over the ashes of last night’s fire when Vash comes up behind and wraps his arms around you, resting on your chest. “Hey,” he says. His voice has the croakiness of sleep still in it. He moves your hair to the side of your neck to press a chaste kiss at its base.

You warm at the affection and turn in his hold. You want a real kiss. Lips puckering, you whisper, “Hey,” and go on your tiptoes.

Instead of meeting lips, however, you feel Vash’s mouth close over your nose and blow. The air forces your voice to honk out in surprise, and Vash pulls away with a laugh. You give him a glare. He dances away before you can hit him.

That was innocent enough; he’s done that before. What really tips you off to his mood is when you’re walking through town later in the day.

It starts with one bullet casing in your pocket. Easy enough, you throw it away and continue with your group. But an hour later, you find another bullet casing in that same pocket. You look at it oddly, but again, chalk it up to nothing. Then another appears. And another. At one point, you pull your pockets out and five different bullet casings clink to the ground. The townspeople give you looks for littering their space with your junk. Embarrassed, you look to Vash for moral support. He looks away. You see the smile he’s trying to hide, though, and suddenly, you know it was him.

Little punk.

It escalates. When you go to hold his hand, he takes it and shakes it – every time – like you’re meeting for the first time. “Hello, miss, nice to meet you,” and “woah now, I don’t know you like that” are his go-to responses. He pinches your butt subtly when you’re in the middle of talking to someone, letting out a high squeak that makes the other person pause and look at you strangely. Vash also feigns a strange look, asking “Are you okay?” You can only give him another glare, the heat of the suns having nothing to the heat of your face. A hundred other little annoyances build up throughout the day, and by the end of it, you’re tired of his antics and avoid him like the plague.

The camp is set up in relative quiet. Millie’s talking about her family, with Meryl and Wolfwood halfway listening while getting dinner and a fire going. You’re trying to help, gathering sleeping bags and lean-to tents from the back of the car, when Vash comes up behind you and says, “Lemme take those.”

Your wary look has him acting innocent. “What?’

You slam the trunk closed and whirl on him, sleeping bags in hand. “Don’t ‘what’ me, what are you planning now?”

“I’m not planning anything – “

“Ha! Liar.” You hold the sleeping bags close like a shield. “Go away. Shoo. Go help Nico with the fire or something.”

He blinks. “But I want to help you!”

“Oh I bet you do.” Nose turning up, you march to the camp and start handing out everything.

Meryl gives you a strange look as she takes her bag. “Everything okay?”

You look at her, then roll your eyes. “Vash is Vash,” you simply say.

She nods like she understands. Millie frowns to the side. “Are you and Mister Vash fighting, Miss ______?”

A strange feeling settles in your stomach. The last thing you want is for them to think you’re actually fighting. “Nah,” you say, giving her a reassuring smile, “he’s just playing. He gets like this every once in a while.”

Light of understanding comes to her eyes. “Oh! My ma and pa do that! They’re always playing, poking fun at each other.” She shifts her legs to cross them. “Ma gets so annoyed at Pa, but they still love each other at the end of the day.”

“Yeah, that’s what we do.” You laugh, some of the tension of the day dropping off. Looking across the fire, you spot Vash setting up his own space for sleep tonight. You smile at him, and, when he notices, he smiles back.

Later, you’ve taken up a spot on top of the car. A small booksits on your chest as you read, curled up in a blanket, and stars glimmer overhead. Everything is cooling down, and with it, your temper.

The car shakes suddenly. You peak over your book and see Vash at the back end, climbing up the ladder. His eyes light on you, and your hackles rise. “What’cha doin’?”

You give him a look. “Reading…”

His smile is innocent to the unwary eye. You watch him carefully as climbs the rest of the way up. He shirks off his shoes and socks and coat and crawls under the blanket with you. He does not stop moving, flipping this way and that, bumping your elbows and squishing you further on top of the truck, bullying you into the side bar. You let out displeased grunts but try not to react.

When he finally settles, he’s got you pinned, rolled onto his side with an elbow supporting his head. “Hey,” he greets, and you see the mischief in his eyes.

The smile you give is tense. You only hum at him and pretend to go back to reading.

Slowly, he nestles down next to you. The blanket gets pulled up to his chin. He doesn’t give you any more room, but at least he isn’t doing anything. Your hackles settle after a few minutes, and you continue to read.

His legs shift. Then shift more. And more. His hand creeps out and takes a handful of your shirt. You shoot him a warning look. He blinks back. Then, in one swift motion, he lifts your shirt halfway and digs his feet into your side.

“Vash!” You shriek, and the others look over with wide eyes, “Your feet are freezing!” You squirm and kick to no avail; his blocks-of-ice-for-feet stay rooted to your ribs.

Vash laughs, smooshing his toes into your skin, ignoring the slaps you give his ankles. “Aw, c’mon, mayfly! It’s not that bad!” He hums and closes his eyes with a pleased look. “Nice and warm…”

You snarl and sit up, shoving his feet off you. “You’re such a boy! You irritate me! All day! Annoying little sh–”

 “That’s so mean…why would you say that…” He gives a kicked-puppy look, bottom lip wibbling.

You don’t fall for it. Grabbing his cheeks with one hand, you lean down and press your nose to his. “If you do not keep your filthy little ice nubs to yourself, I’ll throw you in the fire. That’ll warm you up.”

His eyes have a certain sparkle in them. Unrepentant, he gives you a quick peck on your lips. Ooo, he’s in such a mood. Your mouth twitches. He knows just what buttons to push to get a reaction out of you.

In the background, you hear the giggling of Millie, the long-suffering sigh of Meryl. Your cheeks heat, embarrassed. With your own feet, you push Vash away. He lets out an ‘oof’ as you push his stomach in, and he scrabbles against the luggage and roof of the car to stop this assault. “Why,” you say, “are you like this?!”

Still, he smiles. “Because I love you.” And with a great heave, he rolls over your feet and tackles you in a big hug, pinning your arms to the side to keep you from resisting. The air rushes out of your lungs in a wheeze. “My mayfly~” he sings, smooching your cheek.

“Get a room,” Wolfwood calls out.

“Isn’t it nice to see two people so in love, Meryl?” Millie sighs across the fire. “I wish I could find someone to be so comfortable around!”

When you have enough air, you reach around and bite Vash on the cheek. Hard.

Meryl smiles sympathetically amid Vash’s howl of pain. “I dunno if ‘comfortable’ is the right word for this situation, Millie.”

[fleshmetal]

Wolfwood… those are just words.

[anyasathenaeum]

NSFW Trigun Headcanons

A/N: I felt inspired to just kinda punch these out before I start tackling requests. So yeah, please enjoy these LOL my first NSFW writing ever (PLEASE BE NICE)

Warnings: MINORS DNI, nsfw writing, mentions of cunnilingus, penetrative sex, marking, rough sex, etc. etc.

Vash the Stampede

Somebody who absolutely focuses on his partner's pleasure over his own

Like, Vash would absolutely be the type to straight up cum in tandem with his partner when he's been pleasuring them.

He's eating you out/sucking you off? You better believe he's humping into the bed or whatever surface is beneath him as he does so, making his cock leak precum all over, especially hearing your moans and cries of pleasure as he does so

WOULD ABSOLUTELY MOAN INTO YOUR PUSSY/ON YOUR COCK no doubt about it

His noises? THE PRETTIEST

Vash would be the type to cover his mouth with his hand in an attempt to stifle his sounds, because you draw them out of him constantly

"Mmph, (Y/N)... y-yes, like tha-ah!"

You'd absolutely have to pin his hands down to hear those noises more, I lowkey imagine Vash is a little embarrassed at just how noisy he can be

"Now, now, I wanna hear you, Vash."

The blush on his face is unmatched, his whole face red and his blue eyes all shiny as he looks up at you

"O-Okay! Hah-, o-okay, nngh!"

Whines, whimpers, even slight sobs, they're all sounds you'll hear escaping him

As well as calls of your name and passionately proclamations of his love for you

Sex with Vash is always a loving affair, so filled with tenderness and care. It's rare for it to be rushed or purely lustful

Vash would have a hard time leaving marks on you, he doesn't like the notion of hurting you, even at the height of passion

Of course, if you insist, over time, Vash will learn to leave a mark or two on your skin, wherever you'd like him to - your chest, your neck, your thighs

He'd be!!! so!!!! gentle!!!!

Caressing your skin constantly with both his real and his prosthetic, enjoying the feeling of you in his hands

I definitely think he'd cum even if you didn't touch him, especially the first few times you have sex with him

Over time, once you and Vash become more comfortable, there would definitely be moments where you two have rougher rounds

Or, maybe not rougher, per se, but more desperate, less careful

Maybe after Vash has almost lost you or something has almost torn you away from him, he'd be tearing at you desperately, clutching onto your skin, kissing you and marking you freely, tears going down his cheeks as he thrusts into you, savouring the feeling of your skin against his, a reminder that you're still alive and still with him.

"(Y/N), o-oh... (Y/N)... I love you, I- ah! Pl-please don't leave me..."

Nicholas D. Wolfwood

Sex with Wolfwood starts out more as just a purely physical thing - an act you both partake in, but it slowly becomes something more

Wolfwood would lowkey use you as stress relief

He's had a bad day? You'll know by how hard he thrusts into you, his skin slapping against yours, his grunts and moans echoing off the walls of the empty room you two have snuck off to

"Yeah, take it, (Y/N), just like that. Take it!"

This man? Dirty talker extraordinaire, can straight up turn you on with very few words

He takes flustering you and turning you on as a personal challenge, trying to keep you on your toes all the time and see how red he can make you

If he sees you rubbing your thighs together in desperation, in need, or crossing your legs, your face heating up, Wolfwood takes it as a win

He rewards you for taking his teasing all day by giving you one of the best fucks of your life

What's surprising though - he doesn't actually have all that much experience

I actually can't imagine Wolfwood sleeping around a lot before you, despite all his confidence and his smugness in bed

So, when he actually starts sleeping with you, at first, Wolfwood knows the mechanics of the act of sex, but he doesn't understand the small things

With time, Wolfwood becomes softer with you, learning how you like to be touched, what you like to hear, all your preferences

"Does that make you feel good? Yeah? Lemme hear you, sweetheart. Yes, just like that... good."

Marks you up SHAMELESSLY - will leave hickies wherever he feels like it and he doesn't give a damn who sees because you're his.

Will smirk when he sees other people eyeing the marks on your skin

P O S S E S S I V E - he gets jealous easily, even if he doesn't admit to it, and when he's jealous? Goddamn, RIP you, you're not walking for the next few days

Will also not hesitate to fuck you wherever he feels like it - in the bathroom of a saloon? Check. In an alleyway, not too far away from the main street where people are walking? Check.

The thrill of potentially getting caught makes it all that much more exciting for Wolfwood

Not a huge fan of cuddling after sex when you first start seeing him, but after a while, he softens and doesn't want to let you go

Basically, at first, sex isn't an emotional thing with him, but it becomes one over time - it changes as your relationship with Wolfwood changes and becomes deeper, more intimate, more romantic.

And you know what? Wolfwood wouldn't change it for a thing (though he'd rather die than admit it to you or anybody else)

[beelzebby666]

thanks to Timehop, i stumbled across your post i reblogged where you say that Vash only calling Wolfwood “Wolfwood” is the equivalent of his pet name for him. i completely agree, but i would love to hear your thoughts on this!

So! I think that the fact Wolfwood introduced himself how he did, seeking to distance himself by not giving Vash his first name out the gate, is always an attempt, no matter what canon, to prevent himself from being endeared to Vash. Vash is a stranger that way. Vash is at arm's length. He doesn't have to feel bad.

But he does. Because Vash just embraces it. It's like Wolfwood gave him his preferred name (boom, trans feelings) and he runs with it. Says it like it's the nicest word he's ever had in his mouth. Wolfwood's never been addressed with more gentleness, more affection.

Nicholas is what the Eye called him, what Chapel and/or Conrad called him. It's what he's called when he's in trouble. Nico is what he was called as a kid and, despite being forcibly aged, he is a grown man now. It doesn't fit right. To be close to Vash, in the end, both of those people die. And he's left with just... Just Wolfwood.

Vash gets nicknames. Sometimes they're sweet, mostly they're silly. Wolfwood tries not to use his name because it feels too familiar but, eventually, it just becomes a habit. That's His Needle Noggin.

But for Vash? That's Wolfwood. There's no other way to call him. It's a name he already had, a name he gave Vash to use, but it's also a name Vash gave back much more gently than he expected.

In summary?

[shadowofroses]

Love at first bite?

Thinking of a Trigun Vampire AU. (Idea no idea if I will continue or will get a chance to write it down)

Rem takes in two little Vampires Only one is more blood thirsty than the other. Nai blames the humans for Rem's death when it was really him. There was a Raid on the Saverem Estate by Vampire Slayers that night, it was the perfect cover up. Though Rem was not a Vampire, she was human.

"If God didn't want Vampires to exist, why are they here? Do you have any right to take away what God Intended?" those words reverberated in Vash's mind always repeating in Rem's voice.

Nai tries to encourage Vash to feed off of humans but he just Can't Not unless they invite him to feed. Otherwise he's feeding off of animals, and even then he hates it. But he's never killed an animal while feeding. He doesn't even take what he needs, just enough to get by. Because Vash doesn't feed enough, or from a Human he doesn't heal as well as he should which shows in the amount of scars he has.

Vampires do age, just slower (Sticking with how they grew as independent plants. Vash can't be in the Sun like Nai can, Nai has drank more blood then him, the more you drink the more power you get, the more immunity. And despite common belief Garlic is their favorite flavor. Which is why Vampires spread propaganda about how Garlic keeps them away, if a human eats enough they are tasty drinks to them.

The more terror Nai Reigned, the more trouble it got Vash into. Because they were twins. They looked alike, so he took the blame for trying to go out of his way to protect Humans from them

And here is you finding an Injured Vash in the middle of the woods because you were looking for a flower that bloomed only at night. You were aware of the dangers, the creatures that roamed. that when you rushed over to Vash at first you didn't know even with how pale he was, but he couldn't hide his fangs with his shaky smile. trying to wave it off as everything was okay when it wasn't. You helped him get to your cottage to help care for him. Though there is only one fool proof way to, and you tell him to drink from you. Telling him it's okay if he drinks too much, you have a potion that can heal you and replenish your blood.

Not that you can give your potions to Vash, you have never tested them on Vampires. And you weren't going to test it on a Vampire that was on deaths door either.

And you far from expected to fall in love at first bite.

Bonus Points for the usual Father Wolfwood showing up (EXTRA bonus if he's a Vampire or Werewolf that Reader helped out as well)

[trigunautismzone]

guess what. im back. lets talk trimax.

namely: volume 10, chapter 06, and what we're shown about razlo in this chapter.

remember:

this is my own personal analysis !! it is not meant to be portrayed as "right" or "true", nor to invalidate any other interpretations.

hi teehee hiii. chapter six is titled " the return. " an obvious call to livio coming back, keeping razlo from finishing wolfwood off. while thats a key moment, id like to explore the rest of the chapter, as well!!

this chapter actually delves incredibly deep into razlo's character, which makes it one of my favorites. (im biased. so what sue me. hes like an interesting bug to me.) as we know, the chapter opens with wolfwood just absolutely unloading on razlo as he struggles to regenerate from his injuries. while this parallels the pain vash has experienced thus far, im more interested in razlo's train of thought here.

as a protective alter, by design, razlo is no stranger to pain. for him to acknowledge it to this degree is exceptionally telling of just how bad it was. the reprieve he was offered was only due to wolfwood maxxing out. almost immediately, we see razlo shift gears again, moving back to "i have an opening to finish this." a common misconception, in my opinion, is the idea of him naturally chasing that opening.

while this could be the case, given the past information we have about him, its also an important nod towards the eye of michaels indoctrination he and livio faced, and the manipulation of razlo's "natural behaviors". weve seen to this point he is someone who chooses direct action over words. this can be attributed to the abuse that brought him about, believe it or not!!! he was shown pleading for help, begging for it to stop. unfortunately, that garnered him no results, leading him to believe action (removing the threat from the source) was the best answer.

examples of this trait include not only their parents, but the puppy, the members of the eye he eliminated, all the way up to how he approaches wolfwood. analyzing this is where it gets interesting To Me. razlo views wolfwood as a major threat. whether that is due to the implications that come with failure, wolfwoods actions towards master chapel, or the knowledge of the skills wolfwood possesses when compared to is own is a touch ambiguous.

inherently, razlos end goal is to protect livio.

regardless of how the eye of michael programmed and shaped their relationship as a system, he will default to keeping livio safe. eliminating the source of the threat directly is the only effective way hes been shown to do so—pulling a weed from the roots instead of trimming it back, so to speak.

circling back to the shift in gears we see, theres a lot of different reasons razlo would have done that to consider before "he just wants to kill". however, when livio returns, this can be further cleared up!!!

livio's return and his implied direction causes razlo to push back against him ("you tryna give me a damn order?"). from what we know about him, this seems like a moment he considers himself more capable than livio. however, with later interactions, it becomes much more "you dont get to tell me what to do because you arent above me; we stand on equal ground," rather than thinking livio is beneath him.

but theres something interesting here, even without later details. razlo starts crying, just for a second. with the sheer loss and betrayal razlo has just faced with chapel turning on him, willing to kill him just to get to wolfwood, livio telling him its over and pulling him back likely feels like another person turning on him. his character is heavily implied to be tied directly to those he cares about, and those who care about him. thats been shaken beyond belief in this moment—he feels alone (see him asking wolfwood why he would "throw him back into a pit of loneliness" after chapels initial death), and that is devestating to him.

the feeling of loneliness despite holding a place within a system is critical. it shows he doesnt feel as though he and livio are "whole". "ill never be whole again" is another key line here. the moment he thinks it makes it seem like hes worried about his physical being, but it could just as easily be an underlying fear of failure as a protector.

much of razlos character is driven by his fear of failing. if he fails the assignment, there are implications that the eye will never take them back. theyll be forced to find somewhere to belong again, where they will feel needed. to be needed rather than wanted is to be loved. theres no other way to prove he and livio "deserve" to hang around. this is what they know and understand right now. chapel was the only one that showed razlo he was needed. right up to here:

livio acknowledges that razlo has taken the brunt of the horrible things that have happened.

i know what youre thinking. "rue this just makes it seem like livio doesnt need razlo at all what the fuck are you talking about." steeples my fingers and sniles so sneetly.

this acknowledgement is livio's way of telling razlo "youve done a good job. youve done what you needed to do. you have done enough. i am okay thanks to you." this, again, is My Personal Perception And Interpretation. as a collective / system myself, "taking a break" is terrifying in and of itself. this is the first time livio has felt confident and safe enough that razlo can take a step back. theyve balanced the scales. livio is strong enough to be on his own, and that was the goal all along. razlo spent so much time and so much effort keeping livio safe, showing he cares / worries in his own strange ways, but he doesnt have to anymore. he can rest for now. he can take the time to process and grieve the things he needs to, the things they need to, because livio is safe on his own out there.

this has gotten so long jesus christ. i lobe...lr....i love lr. i love razlo hes so special to me. my favorite bug to dissect. i love systems being portrayed fairly accurately in media. lr isnt a perfect example, but theyre a damn good one. heems.