taylor price
Discoholic 🪩
we're not kids anymore.
noise dept.
d e v o n
RMH
Jules of Nature
"I'm Dorothy Gale from Kansas"
Keni
Game of Thrones Daily
Love Begins
shark vs the universe
cherry valley forever
untitled
let's talk about Bridgerton tea, my ask is open
Andulka
he wasn't even looking at me and he found me
Sade Olutola
❣ Chile in a Photography ❣
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@abelshot
++ hi there! i'm nev - and by some unfortunate turn of events, i have a new babygirl and i'm back on tunglr rp - i'm here with an indie/selective/low activity vash the stampede based entirely on the 2023 reboot!! please give this a like/reblog if you'd be interested in interacting!
okay so i think what my plan is for this blog because i am Feeling the vash muse coming back for writing on here bit by bit but the trigun rpc is.... so quiet and i'm scared of the trimax fans hating on my particular Blend of vash... i am going to make a fuck tonne of aus and put him in them so i can expand who i can write with on here a lil bit. obvs this won't happen very quickly because my mental health is a minefield at the moment but i am Trying
trigun rpc alive and on my dash in the year 2026? ( @livio-the-doublefang and @wolfcross i missed uuuu u uuu u)
What's this? Wolfwood sneaking up behind the Stampede, getting riiiight up close to blow a whistle of air to the back of the shell in his ear. If the other were to strike or punch him, he'd be ready to duck! "Heh, what's gotten into you, blondie? You got that thousand yard stare."
usually, the stampede can keep himself in the present when his companion is around. usually he manages to keep his distant doubts at bay for long enough that the priest either doesn't notice or isn't given enough of a reason to get involved. they work that way, vash supposes. wolfwood doesn't pry or get too involved and vash doesn't push his fears on the other. still, the brush of warm air that grazes vash's ear has him ducking and spinning out of the way on instinct.
eyes wide, glasses skewed by the sudden movement, vash all but ends up sat on the ground in his scrambled attempt to get away from his would-be bounty claimer-- wolfwood? panic gives way to surprise and surprise soon gives way to confusion. thousand yard stare? he was just appreciating the scenery, watching the sun set with the usual bittersweet memories filling his head as they play on repeat over and over again...
okay, maybe he did have a thousand yard stare - fair play wolfwood.
hand lifts to brush fingertips 'gainst the shell of his ear where wolfwood has blown a whistle against his skin. it still prickles with the sensation. cerulean gaze softens at the realisation as the stampede gives in and settles back into the sand, adjusting his glasses again before he focuses fully on the priest. trust him to know when vash needed interrupting most, huh? "little old me? i was just--just enjoying the sunset, is--is there something weird about that? i can enjoy this view from down here, if you prefer that? wolfwood?"
the lopsided, tentative smile that works its way onto vash's lips doesn't quite reach his eyes.
✟ ― He knew, rather, they both knew that Vash could have easily escaped from his hold if he chose to. Instead he's allowing himself be pinned under Wolfwood like some hapless victim of circumstance, oh no.
Now he ain't sure if that's what's ticking him off, or if Vash truly was oblivious of his effect on him. Wolfwood's eyes had followed the dart of that pink tongue, and that lopsided grin was making the moths in his stomach go flip. And the fact that his chest is bare and his flushed skin is pressing against the cloth of the the Stampede's shirt. He feels a feint static buzz in the places they contact ― and it makes him wonder if that's got somethin' to do with the glow of those intricate lines in his eyes.
Vash's words snap him out of his daze, and now its making him sweat for a different kind of reason. Ironic use of words coming from the blond. It does make him wonder if he's still nonethewiser about his true intent and mission. He knows Vash wasn't as stupid as he looks.
" Plan? Oh yeah I've got a plan for you alright, blondie. " there's a tick forming on his forehead as Wolfwood threatens, mouth practically a breath away from Vash's plaint lips. Oh how easy would it be to just ― Instead, Wolfwood lets his irk override all his other emotions and forces himself to push himself off the blond, leaving him cold on his back on the sand.
" Plan for you to make you buy me a new shirt the next town over! " Wolfwood turns away, a bit flustered, grumbling. " The hell would you even do that for you little shit? This is my only decent shirt!"
He then starts to button up his coat jacket to make up for the lack of buttons of his dress shirt. So now it sinches at his waist and only serves to emphasize the V of his exposed chest. Good luck with that then, Vash the Stampede.
@abelshot
one moment, there's lips pressed inches away from his own - breath ghosting over the stampede's skin as his heart pitches up beneath his ribcage and every inch of him pulls taut, ready for the rush that... doesn't come?
the next, vash is blinking bright eyes open again to meet the harsh blue of the cloudless sky above him - the heat of the sun beating down on him rather than the weight of the undertaker he thought he'd well and truly captured this time. hands still linger above his head in the sand - mind lagging behind the turn of events. blood pressure drops and the stampede lifts his head just in time to watch wolfwood button his suit jacket up (and even just the sight in of itself is enough to replace that pressure at the pit of his stomach again--).
pushing himself up and propping his weight up on his elbows, vash can't help the fond grin that spreads over his lips. it's all too easy to forget why they're here together when wolfwood makes it so easy to distract them from their individual goals - it's all too easy for vash to think again about returning to his pacifist comfort zone if it would mean he could keep this dance up for a little longer. still, he knows it's not his decision to make as a light laugh peels from vash's chest in response. distantly, he hopes wolfwood doesn't notice the ever so slightly hollow nature to the sound.
"... aw, wolfwood - if you handed me in for that bounty, i'm sure you could buy as many shirts as you like! more than i can afford with my pocket money, anyway--" it's an extremely roundabout way of saying that vash the stampede isn't known for carrying much in the way of money. he's running on his last six bullets as it is-- vision settles on the priest's chest again, the plant barely supressing the stall in his thought process at the sight. "besides, maybe you should style this look out - i know i prefer it--"
he braces, waiting for something to be thrown at his head for the comment.
++ maybe leave this a like if you're okay with me sending lil ic asks sometimes while i'm still struggling for writing time?
++ hiiiiiii
*lifts him up by the back of his collar like a feral cat*
literally just hangs there, reaches out for wolfwood with his grabby hands. "ohh you want a hug? we can hug! you just have to ask!!"
@abelshot
plucks the lolipop out of wolfwood's mouth, flashing a winning grin in the process and placing the sweet between his own lips. "thanking you kindly!"
"Hey sweet thing, you know that's still gunna cost ya right? " He grins then points a finger towards his cheek, expecting a kiss from him at least.
the pet name washes over him, colour dusting the stampede's cheeks for a moment. still, his expression softens as vash leans in closer - lollipop hanging from his lips still. playing dumb seems like more fun, though. "yeah? what kind of payment is it you want, hm? i'm fresh out of cash, you see." / @wolfcross
exhaustion … sentence starters
the exhausted
“I can’t sleep.”
“I can’t keep my eyes open.”
“Can you help me back to bed?”
“I’m okay. I’m not even that tired.”
“I don’t remember the last time I slept.”
“I can’t sleep, yet. There’s too much to do.”
“I don’t want to sleep. I keep having nightmares.”
“I promise I’ll sleep in a bit, just let me finish this, first.”
“Can you help me lie down? I can’t move, I’m too tired.”
“I can’t even think straight anymore… maybe I need to sleep.”
“Of course I want to relax. But, we don’t all get what we want.”
“I’m so tired I can’t do anything, but I’m not tired enough to sleep…”
the concerned
“You keep yawning.”
“Go. Sleep. That’s not a request.”
“If you’re that tired, just take a nap.”
“You look like you haven’t slept in days.”
“Why didn’t you tell me you were this tired?”
“Those are some bad bags under your eyes.”
“You don’t have to push so hard. It’s okay to rest.”
“You can barely keep your eyes open, go lie down.”
“I haven’t seen you sleeping in a long time, what’s up?”
“I just had to stop you from toppling over. You’re not okay.”
“With everything you’ve been through lately, of course you’re tired.”
“I heard you thrashing around last night. Nightmares? Is that why you’re so tired?”
“You know, you keep fretting over everyone else, but you won’t even take a second to relax, yourself.”
misc
(doze) : one muse falls asleep on the other’s shoulder
(tuck) : one muse finds the other passed out onto the bed, and tucks them in
(collapsed) : one muse finds the other passed out on the floor from exhaustion
(carry) : one muse finds the other after they’ve fallen asleep on a chair / couch, and carries them to bed
(cover) : one muse finds the other asleep somewhere other than bed and covers them with a blanket / their jacket
(assist) : one muse finds the other so tired they’re having trouble standing and helps them walk somewhere to lie down
(comfort) : one muse has been having nightmares and unable to sleep, so asks the other to cuddle with them to help them drift off
@abelshot asked: scribble of vash carrying meryl on his shoulders please and thank u op
NOW who's the shortest
@abelshot | 𝙱𝙻𝙾𝙽𝙳 𝙸𝙳𝙸𝙾𝚃
✟ ― He's gotten so used to the ringing in his ears it doesn't even phase him anymore ― but it keeps his blood pumping, heart pounding with every ammunition shot out of a smoking barrel. They're getting pelted out there, each bullet like a beating drum in the hollow of his ribcage, while his back rests upon the crumbling remains of a plastered wall.
How the fuck did they get themselves into this kind of mess again? Oh that's right, because the blond moron needed to play savior for so precious little.
Wolfwood grits his teeth so hard in frustration he could snap the butt of his cigarette in half. His whole body was thrumming, hands cradling the hefty gunmetal black body of the Punisher, just itching to move into action like a tightly coiled spring. He could just easily mow down those lowlife goons, but the intense gaze of those babyblues behind tinted glasses, staring right across from where he's taking shelter, keeps him rooted to the spot. Pleading for him to don't do it.
Damn that fucker.
He had warned him. Practically yelled at his face to not to do anything stupid. But sure enough the blond would do the exact fucking opposite. And Wolfwood wonders why he even agreed to put up with this shit. Now even he's getting swept up into the typhoon.
And they don't call the doofus that for nothing either. Because as quick as a flash ― blink and you'll miss it ― he sees Vash suddenly spring into action and starts to sprint away from the scene.
" HEY ! " Wolfwood growls after him, so loud it made his throat hurt. "The hell are you doing!? YOU FUCKING IDIOT !! "
Along with a plethora of other curses under his breath, Wolfwood finally rolls out of his hiding place and starts to move too. Lugging the Punisher under an arm as he chases after them. Does the blond really think he could do these stunts alone? The dumbass really doesn't think before he acts. Wolfwood needs to find a way to gain in on them, so he takes shortcuts, weaving his way through the dusty town, jumping through walls and roofs.
When he does catch up to them, he finds the six-man band of degenerates managing to corner the Stampede near a rock face. Wolfwood was locked and loaded, aiming the Punisher at the bounty hunters ― until one of them aims an absurd looking type of bazooka at the blond.
" . . .TONGARI, WATCH OUT! "
Cigarette falling from his lips, and without a care or a thought, Wolfwood jumps into view, wrapping his arms around Vash as his back takes the brunt of the incoming ammo.
in order to say that this wasn't going to plan... vash would have to have had a plan in the first place. and, well, to say that would be a lie in of itself.
all he'd thought about was getting the rush of bullets and shrapnel alike - anything after the fact hadn't crossed the stampede's mind. hot air rushes past, through blond hair and against skin dusted with grime and sweat as he runs, skidding 'round corners and catching himself against crumbling walls as boots slip in the sand underfoot. he just has to get them away from wolfwood - has to find somewhere he can lose them and they'll find each other again. they always do. they always get back to one another eventually.
all vash has to do is lose the bounty hunters still racing after him even as the gunman catches a loose pile of dried timber and lets it scatter in the wake of his retreat. they're still on his tail, still shouting and losing bullets every time the stampede hesitates in his route or meets a straighter alleyway offering little in the way of cover. shots clip the tails of his jacket, embedding themselves in concrete and sand alike. he doesn't feel the bullet that glances off of his shoulder, vash's focus remaining stubbornly on getting these people as far away from wolfwood as possible--
he skids to a halt before a rockface.
the rush of cloying dread that drapes itself over him is suffocating as the stampede turns on the balls of his feet, hands up as he forces his best winning smile onto his face. they're already on him, cornering him as vash backs himself up as far as he feels he can without truly trapping himself in their firing line. mind races, gaze scanning his surroundings and coming up empty in the search for another option. "hah--gentlemen, this isn't much of a fair fight now - is it? how about we take a... take a time out!!"
the next few moments pass in slow motion. "nico--?" vash sees the weapon raised at him before he sees wolfwood has caught up to them. then, the world is spinning. their standoff tilts on its axis as arms wrap 'round the stampede's middle and he's thrown against the rock behind him by the force of wolfwood's grip and the explosion that hits next. blood rushes in his ears, filling his skull as crimson paints the side of vash's face - staining blond hair in its wake. it takes far too long for what actually just happened to sink in for vash.
when it does, though? his gun is raised and pointed at the closest hunter's weapon, free arm cradling the undertaker's frame against his chest. don't think about it. just get rid of them. he'll be fine. he'll be fine - he has to be fine.
vash squeezes the trigger, losing a bullet that embeds itself in the muzzle of the bazooka - the explosion it triggers isn't fatal but it's enough to make the hunters question the look in cerulean gaze as the dust begins to settle. enough to make them back off as the stampede's attention turns back to the man in his arms. "hey-- hey wolfwood? wolfwood say something! c'mon-- please--" / @wolfcross.
HATER & ANGST ANTHEMS — 3 songs that portray your muse’s negative side of life! Bitter, negative, sad, bad vibes. What songs portray the darker sides of your muse?
Then it's just too much, I cannot get you close enough A hundred arms, a hundred years, you can always find me here And Lord, don't let it break this, let me hold it lightly Give me arms to pray with instead of ones that hold too tightly
And then it's just too much, the streets, they still run with blood A hundred arms, a hundred years, you can always find me here And Lord, don't let it break this, let me hold it lightly Give me arms to pray with instead of ones that hold too tightly
But I'ma stay right here I'ma stay inside I'ma just sit tight For another night
If I can't make it right Then I won't make it worse I'ma just sit tight Until it doesn't hurt
Sometimes, I can't help blaming You For leaving me here, what am I supposed to do? There's plenty of women, there's drink and there's drugs But we both know that won't be enough
'Cause I see You in the daytime, and I hear You at night There's a pale imitation burnt in my eyes I don't wanna be here, I don't know what to do Sometimes I'd rather be dead, at least then I'm with You
Tagged by: @wolfcross HEHEHEHEH
Tagging: uHHHHHH i don't know who's done this so far so yoink it if u wanna aghjdgh
it isn't the first time they've found themselves in the middle of a shootout amongst the rubble and ruin of a town long forgotten and lost to the sands. it also isn't the first time that wolfwood's demanded the stampede leaves and lets the undertaker deal with their issue himself. of course, such an order was vehemently denied by vash as he stubbornly reloads his pistol and turns his attention back to the bounty hunters intent on getting their hands on the ever-growing fund that comes with vash's head.
dust settles around them, filling the air where it sprays from bullet holes missing their mark and hitting old, crumbling walls. blood rushes in vash's ears as he glances to the side where wolfwood sits across the alleyway from him, ducked beneath what remains of an old shop front. cerulean gaze is paired with pinprick pupils and a shake of his head. don't do it. he knows what wolfwood's usual tactic is - they also both know how low he is on those vials of his. he begs his friend and partner with the look in his eyes. let me figure this out - i'll find a way. don't go out there.
there's a lull in the cacophony of flying bullets and shrapnel as their hunters seem to understand they've not hit their mark yet. a glance, tentative in nature around the side of his chosen cover reveals the last thing the stampede had hoped for. they're advancing. there's at least six against the two of them. another glance towards wolfwood and a desperate expression. he can't shout like he wants to - can't plead with the priest not to do what they both know he wants to. vash raises a hand, palm out. stay there. please stay there. the hammer is pulled back on his gun. he has to act first - has to do something before wolfwood can act.
teeth grit and the stampede ducks out from behind his hiding spot, met with a hail of bullets as he scrambles to his feet and turns tail - leading the group further away from where wolfwood sits with the punisher. he will not let wolfwood get hurt because of him. not again. not today. / @wolfcross .
exhaustion … sentence starters
the exhausted
“I can’t sleep.”
“I can’t keep my eyes open.”
“Can you help me back to bed?”
“I’m okay. I’m not even that tired.”
“I don’t remember the last time I slept.”
“I can’t sleep, yet. There’s too much to do.”
“I don’t want to sleep. I keep having nightmares.”
“I promise I’ll sleep in a bit, just let me finish this, first.”
“Can you help me lie down? I can’t move, I’m too tired.”
“I can’t even think straight anymore… maybe I need to sleep.”
“Of course I want to relax. But, we don’t all get what we want.”
“I’m so tired I can’t do anything, but I’m not tired enough to sleep…”
the concerned
“You keep yawning.”
“Go. Sleep. That’s not a request.”
“If you’re that tired, just take a nap.”
“You look like you haven’t slept in days.”
“Why didn’t you tell me you were this tired?”
“Those are some bad bags under your eyes.”
“You don’t have to push so hard. It’s okay to rest.”
“You can barely keep your eyes open, go lie down.”
“I haven’t seen you sleeping in a long time, what’s up?”
“I just had to stop you from toppling over. You’re not okay.”
“With everything you’ve been through lately, of course you’re tired.”
“I heard you thrashing around last night. Nightmares? Is that why you’re so tired?”
“You know, you keep fretting over everyone else, but you won’t even take a second to relax, yourself.”
misc
(doze) : one muse falls asleep on the other’s shoulder
(tuck) : one muse finds the other passed out onto the bed, and tucks them in
(collapsed) : one muse finds the other passed out on the floor from exhaustion
(carry) : one muse finds the other after they’ve fallen asleep on a chair / couch, and carries them to bed
(cover) : one muse finds the other asleep somewhere other than bed and covers them with a blanket / their jacket
(assist) : one muse finds the other so tired they’re having trouble standing and helps them walk somewhere to lie down
(comfort) : one muse has been having nightmares and unable to sleep, so asks the other to cuddle with them to help them drift off
++ @wolfcross - cont.
index finger pushes the darker frames back up his nose as they slip out of place through the stampede's evasions of wolfwood's retaliation, a laugh filling the air between them as vash straightens a few paces away and stands with his hands on his hips and shoulders slumped forward in the way his companion would always stand. voice finding its way towards wolfwood's own, more gruff tone despite the grin plastered over vash's features. "my name is nicholas d. wolfwood and that'll be 20,000 double dollars! no payment instalments or loans, numbskull! wait--hey!"
that is - until his own glasses are plucked from his grip and vash is scrambling after the yellow lenses with a futile grasp as he watches wolfwood push them up his own nose. ah, here we go--
"blind? no--no! nothing like that! i just, they're for reading - mostly but... aha you never know when you're gonna need to read something, right? so... why not just keep them on all the time!" he's snatching at the glasses, despite the fact that he still wears his friend's own pair.
