#crosspunisher

[reusignus]

SLAP!!!!!!

-- would you slap vash's pancake ass | [accepting]

"YEE-OUCHH--!!"

The sounds of the slap practically echoed. Vash whirls on his heels to face Wolfwood, hands up 'n open as if to ward off any more smacks to his poor buttocks. He deserves a lot of things, but Vash can't wrap his head around this one.

"Just WHAT the heck was that for?! C'mon, I didn't mean what I said earlier, I was just joking around--your driving is just fine!! Jeez, this really stings..."

[etrevixit]

“Y’gonna get taller any time soon? ANY DAMN DAY NOW?” The elder ruffled Nicholas’ a lot harder than he probably should’ve, but he did not give a single shit. The young punisher was overdue for his fair share of the preschool-level chastising Wolfwood had to endure from him. “Hold still, break time.” The wolf went on, resting his elbow upon the younger’s head as he pulled out a cigarette. Not from his own pocket, no — but Nicholas’.

⠀Nicholas' face twisted into a grimace as the elder man's elbow prodded his head, a mix of annoyance and mild amusement flashing in his eyes.

With a swift reflex, Nicholas elbowed Wolfwood in the side, causing him to stagger back slightly. It was enough of a distraction for the younger man to snatch his cigarette back, a triumphant smirk spreading across his features.

❛ You're just jealous because I'm not as brittle as you, Old Timber. And keep your brittle bones off my cigarettes. Can't you afford your own, or has your pension not come in yet? ❜

He took a step back, giving Wolfwood a snide grin as he lifted the stolen cigarette to his lips. Taking a huff to blow smoke upwards at the older man.

❛ Quit using my head as your armrest too. You're gonna break your arm one of these days, and I ain't gonna be the one to carry you around. ❜

❛ Or maybe you're already so fragile that you need me as a crutch? Still waiting for your damn back to straighten up, gramps? If so I don’t come cheap ❜

[sweetxsymphony]

@crosspunisher

"That cross is highly unusual. I have never seen a weapon like it before." Some Musicarts had interesting weapons but she had never encountered a weapon in the shape of a cross before.

[reusignus]

Y - Yes: Do they have any specific turn ons? Things that will automatically make your muse say yes to sleeping with someone else. If not what are some other things that get them in a more romantic mood? Lighting? Dinner?

— A-Z smut headcanon prompt list | [accepting]

Y - Yes: Do they have any specific turn ons? Things that will automatically make your muse say yes to sleeping with someone else. If not what are some other things that get them in a more romantic mood? Lighting? Dinner?

|| Vash certainly has little things about someone that turn him on, but nothing that would make him jump someone’s bones or agree right away upon being asked. The exceptions to that are others Vash is actually already had experiences with on the blog in their own AUs.

However, listen. Vash is a romantic at heart. He’s spent years wistfully daydreaming about romance and is completely convinced he doesn’t deserve it and can never dish it out either because he’ll mess it up. If someone wants to get under his skin, just rizz him up. Or, show him that there is no doubt in the attraction there and he isn’t imaging it. He’s a tough egg to crack, but once someone gets through to him, Vash can be quick to melt. Bite him and he’s gonna fold. Not even in a sexual way, just something that shares the closeness already there. That’s a love language for him, and a plant thing in general I think.

Bonus points if you dance with Vash! He loves to dance, it puts him in a good mood.

[etrevixit]

@crosspunisher WW: Nicholas. Your posture gives me the ICK.

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀❛ Sorry, old man. Unfortunately, my bones isn’t at your level of scoliosis. Let’s get you to sit down before I hear them pop again. ❜

[etrevixit]

2. My muse throws a punch at yours.

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀Rough Touch

⠀⠀⠀ ❛ Your threats are as empty as your sermons, old man. All ya can do is bitch over what I do like an broken record ❜

Nicholas sneered, a wicked grin spreading across his face.

That was the final straw. As if propelled by a force beyond his control, Wolfwood's fist shot forward, striking Nicholas square on the nose. A sickening crunch echoed through the room, an intimate symphony of breaking cartilage and spewing blood.

Nicholas staggered back, a crimson waterfall pouring from his nose, staining his shirt in a grotesque bloom, smearing his lips, and splattering the floor with droplets of scarlet.

The taste of iron filled the air, the metallic scent of blood invading their senses. Nicholas wiped the blood from his nose, his eyes hardening. Without missing a beat, he retaliated, his fist aiming for Wolfwood's jaw

[attroxx]

❛ @crosspunisher said . . . [ WRAP ] + [ CARRY ] for Mia! ❜

𝐄𝐗𝐇𝐀𝐔𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐃 𝐃𝐈𝐃𝐍'𝐓 𝐄𝐕𝐄𝐍 𝐁𝐄𝐆𝐈𝐍 𝐓𝐎 𝐂𝐎𝐕𝐄𝐑 𝐇𝐎𝐖 𝐓𝐈𝐑𝐄𝐃 𝐌𝐈𝐀 𝐅𝐄𝐋𝐓. clearly he'd noticed it too. she'd done her best to stay tough, to stay awake. but the princess could hardly keep her eyes open anymore, head lulling against his shoulder. a few times she's jolted awake but it always ended with mia fighting a losing battle to keep conscious. a thick blanket is draped over her shoulders, causing the royal to blink. a blanket . . . it's warm. she doesn't fight the gesture, instead wrapping delicate fingers around the edge of the fabric.

then all at once the seat from under her disappears as she's lifted by strong arms. this time her eyes do open wide, looking up at nicholas who seems to have had enough watching the princess fight off her exhaustion. it's time for bed. red fills her cheeks but she says nothing. maybe if she weren't so tired she'd protest that she could walk, that he didn't need to carry her but . . . it feels nice. instead her head turns to rest against his chest, closing her eyes now. there was little need to worry if he was here.

gentle prompts. ― accepting.

[peacebringing]

The man ashes his cigarette and takes one long drag before tossing it aside, not giving an absolute damn where it would land. Look around: this entire shit show of a planet was an ashtray in case no one’s noticed!!

“Blondie,” he speaks softly, leftover smoke departing his lips as he pulls the stampede closer by the arm. Their lips were mere seconds away from being flesh on flesh, as breath meets breath. The setting was right, the mood: perfect.

Too perfect. “… Tch.” A quick, simple sound, just enough to break the wolf’s character, adding a glass shattering indifference all the same. A snicker lead to a cackle, showing no remorse to Vash’s priceless expression as this went on.

“Yeah, right. You wish, don’tcha?” Wolfwood snickered, a flirtatious wink to follow.

“Huwhah?”

Vash was recognized for a number of traits, none with a flattering lilt... a lack of grace was noted among the several, willowy legs knotting themselves in attempts to slow his own pacing... only for it to be slowed for him, in the form of a hand gripping his arm. Vash wasn't the strongest, nor the most frail, but how could one not note Nicholas D. Wolfwood's own strength? Such a confrontation was natural, having had it thrust upon him in semi-coherent oh's, and of course he is, and ow, actually. Wasn't the first time Wolfwood used action to get his point across, wouldn't be the last, but this wasn't a reprimand, a lesson taught, it was...

A thin string of smoke, breathed against his own lips. Close. Why - why this level of closeness? Was Vash's eyes fluttering due to the pungent scent of nicotine, the ow factor, or was it in competition with the flit-flit-flit of his heart? When had he last fully blinked, when had he last took a breath? -- didn't need to, but the sting of his lungs stated otherwise. Underneath a fog of smoke: a plume of oak, the sting of alcohol from hours prior. Vash had caught the scent once, detailed it in his thoughts, forgot he had: now, it had the lingering effect of familiarity. Was it normal for his thoughts to swim in such spirals?

Vash was no stranger to drunkenness, but this was of a separate category.

“Wolfwood.”

Not an inquiry: no matter the reasoning, the sensation this moment, this fleeting passage of time, held was stitched into his memory. The shadow of bags beneath his moonlight gaze, the crinkle in the corner of his eye - the chapped piece of skin on his bottom lip, the single breath Vash couldn't see, but felt. The glossy finish, a telltale of nervous biting—

... You wish, don't'cha?

Huh?

Breath punched out of his chest, Vash, veil ripped from atop his head, could at last steel his hazy eyes. A minute cock of the head, a shagging posture, his arm falling lip betwixt the pair of them...

“I wish for... what?” blink-blink-blink, glossy blown pupils and a scrunched, contemplative look. “I wish you'd give my arm back but that's about it, I think...”

What was that, actually? What had that been?

“Wait, why are you laughing—”