nicholas d. wolfwood (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
asipofbride) wrote2013-04-06 05:02 pm
asipofbride) wrote2013-04-06 05:02 pmIC INBOX [kaisou]
username: N.D. WOLFWOOD | ✉ ☏ 📷 |
asipofbride) wrote2013-04-06 05:02 pm
username: N.D. WOLFWOOD | ✉ ☏ 📷 |
no subject
look, listen
there does not have to be more than that
Wolfwood spent a long, long spat of his comparatively short life letting other people complicate his relationship with life and the universe and everything in between, and frankly, he's done with it. he does not want to be the conniving guy anymore, he doesn't want to be the liar, the deceiver, the thief, the Judas.
he just wants to enjoy cold sunshine and fresh fruit and being sat in traffic with the music on the radio, listening to some woman at Kni's school complain about her immense problems with him doing other shit in class like it's the worst thing that little shithead is capable of. he wants to wake up sore but happy, mildly hungover; he wants to grumble about going to work but end up getting there anyway because comparatively, it's not too bad and Zulius is a delight and Vergil is rich.
he wants to have friends and fight monsters and struggle and breathe softer as the dust settles because for every trial he might have to undertake, he's still happy and he can really keep people safe and feel like the things he does matter on a day to day basis and he's not gonna have to struggle to deserve it, he's going to earn it with his sweat and tears and blood.
Vash might've lost Wolfwood in another life, and another world, but that was him and Wolfwood's here now, staring down at Vash with a crook of a smile on his face and his heels dug into the tops of his thighs as he leans down to flick the tip of his nose, as if that'll dissipate every dumb thing Vash is thinking. factory reset your alien; the narrative hates this one trick. ]
I'm always beautiful, don't sell me short here, Needlenoggin.
[ in the moment. here and now, the only space that matters; tomorrow waits in the wings, and yesterday sits etched in the pages to be referenced, but not followed slavishly. ]
You're real good at leavin' yourself all the options, you know? 'Could fall in love with you', 'fell a long time ago'.
Pick one, Vash.
You love me or not?
[ here, now. one answer; doesn't even have to be three words and eight letters. Wolfwood might even accept three.
... might not know what to do with two, but that's for a Wolfwood who sees where the cards fall in this next moment, sitting breathless as he stares at Vash, fingers curled against his cheek, thumb pressed over his beauty spot and face just. full of hope. of the reckless love that comes with unfettered youth, that comes from a fearless tongue.
that comes from a man who will only hang from his regrets on his own terms, in his own time. ]
no subject
But even so, even while he's here and while he has Wolfwood and Dante. There's still that tiny, nagging, quietly desperate voice in the back of his head that begs him to reconsider -- he doesn't deserve to be loved by humans, even wolfwood--
but then he returns to earth from those thoughts. Where Wolfwood is perched on him, looking him in the eye.
And asking him.
To pick one or the other.
Two roads lead before him and
He knows, if he chooses one, his world will change--but of course, one road is more dangerous than the other. His breath catches in his throat, and his hands move. Despite being flicked in the forehead--he doesn't flinch. Fingers on Wolfwood's bare ankles--one hand metallic and cold, the other impossibly warm. And then they shift up, cradling the back of his calves as he lets out the quietest, most desperate little sigh.
Hands on his face, curled around him and he's unable to look away as a calloused thumb chases the side of Vash's face. wetness collecting in those seafoam green eyes as he takes in the others' face.
...How he's sat with a window at his back
why is it he looks like he has a haloed aura around him right now?
Warmth drips down onto Wolfwood's thumb. ]
I love you, so much. I don't know what I'd do if I lost you again.
no subject
don't make it about deserve. don't keep racking up a debt that you'll never be able to pay down. don't rip yourself to shreds for the bad things in the world.
he looks down on Vash, haloed in light, come down from on high
(come back, a second chance, a fresh start, a world without the millstone tied to their legs)
waiting, quiet and patient for what feels like forever, still as stone, barely daring to breathe as something flips in the air and it's not just teasing-joking-playing and chasing Vash and his wishy-washy words in circles with fists up; there's something that's about to happen, a penny that's going to drop, and Wolfwood's betting on heads, feeling the curl of Vash's fingers around his calves, cool-and-warm on his ankles and then up
he feels the flicker of his hand growing fur before he thinks about what it means, looking at the smattering of pelt on the side of his thumb and then back again to Vash's eyes proper, licking his lips as Vash finally makes a choice.
doesn't make a promise. doesn't do something wild or grand or stupid; Vash just says his truth and Wolfwood finally breathes again, shifting forward so that he comes down from his lofty pedestal-table, moving to straddle Vash's lap and slide his arms around his neck and shoulders, lazy and slow, crossing his arms at his wrists to trap Vash in close, not caring about how black, thick fur blossoms wherever Vash's tears drip down.
he leans in, forehead to Vash's, fingers coming up to lace in his hair. ]
Love you too, Vash. Better bell the cat then, hey? I'm gonna stick around for a little while longer, at least.
no subject
His heart, that's currently set to rumble right out of his chest as his arms move to wrap around Wolfwood as he lands directly in his lap, burying his face right into his chest as he tries so
so
so very hard not to sob into him like a 151 year old baby.
He'd prayed to the gods not to take this man away from him.
And it took two years for them to hear him but he's here, he has him back, and with how hard vash holds him in his arms, he almost feels at risk of sinking into his skin and never coming free. Little vines and feathers lifting off of his skin and angling towards the other. ]
Please, stay with me.
That's all I want.
That's all I ever wanted. I realised it, too late. When I'd lost you.
All I've ever wanted was to spend my tomorrows with you.