Pls Pls Fo Go Check Them Out

Pls pls fo go check them out

May I ask for a request for spike x reader?! Reader is quite a soft person by nature & tends to wear their heart on their sleeve but most of their life was surrounded by people who saw such traits as a weakness. They feel no one truly understands them and feels a bit out of place, so they tend to daydream a lot. But Spike, despite being a rugged bounty hunter, ends up loving those very traits about them 🙏🥺

A Dreamer's Doo-Wop (Spike Spiegel x Reader)

𝗔/𝗡: 𝗵𝗲𝗿𝗲 𝘆𝗼𝘂 𝗴𝗼! 𝗶 𝗸𝗶𝗻𝗱𝗮 𝗵𝗮𝘃𝗲 𝘄𝗿𝗼𝘁𝗲 𝘁𝗵𝗶𝘀 𝘁𝘆𝗽𝗲 𝗼𝗳 𝗿𝗲𝗮𝗱𝗲𝗿 𝗮 𝗹𝗼𝘁 𝗶𝗻 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝗽𝗮𝘀𝘁 (𝗰𝗵𝗲𝗰𝗸 𝗹𝗶𝘁𝗲𝗿𝗮𝗹𝗹𝘆 𝗮𝗻𝘆 𝘀𝗽𝗶𝗸𝗲 𝗳𝗶𝗰 𝗶 𝘄𝗿𝗼𝘁𝗲 𝘁𝗵𝗮𝘁 𝗵𝗮𝘀 𝗮 𝗺𝘂𝘀𝗶𝗰𝗮𝗹 𝗴𝗲𝗻𝗿𝗲 𝗶𝗻 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝗻𝗮𝗺𝗲 𝗟𝗢𝗟) 𝗯𝘂𝘁 𝗻𝗲𝘃𝗲𝗿 𝘄𝗶𝘁𝗵 𝗱𝗮𝘆𝗱𝗿𝗲𝗮𝗺𝗶𝗻𝗴 𝗯𝗲𝗶𝗻𝗴 𝗶𝗻𝘃𝗼𝗹𝘃𝗲𝗱!!! 𝗯𝘂𝘁 𝗶 𝗵𝗼𝗽𝗲 𝘆𝗼𝘂 𝗹𝗶𝗸𝗲 𝘁𝗵𝗶𝘀! 𝗜'𝗺 𝗮 𝗯𝗶𝗴 𝗱𝗮𝘆𝗱𝗿𝗲𝗮𝗺𝗲𝗿 𝘀𝗼 𝘁𝗵𝗶𝘀 𝘄𝗮𝘀 𝗳𝘂𝗻 𝘁𝗼 𝘄𝗿𝗶𝘁𝗲

𝙒𝙖𝙣𝙩 𝙩𝙤 𝙧𝙚𝙖𝙙 𝙢𝙤𝙧𝙚? ⇒ 𝙈𝙖𝙨𝙩𝙚𝙧𝙡𝙞𝙨𝙩

𝙟𝙤𝙞𝙣 𝙢𝙮 𝙙𝙞𝙨𝙘𝙤𝙧𝙙 𝙨𝙚𝙧𝙫𝙚𝙧?

𝙗𝙪𝙮 𝙢𝙚 𝙖 𝙘𝙤𝙛𝙛𝙚𝙚?

It’s not unusual to find you here.

  It’s a seat in a corner, by a window. The big window, as you and Ed (and now the entire crew), have taken to calling it. For the longest time when it was just him and Jet and their empty pockets, this seat went unnoticed. Forgotten about. Gathering and gathering dust and cobwebs and all sorts of lonely things like it just never existed. And then things happened, and suddenly one day after a trip to Europa- there’s you. And now, there’s you in your favorite spot. The seat by the window. No more dust. No more cobwebs. He used to think of it as lonely. But now when he sees it? 

  He calls it home.

  Of course, he doesn’t use it as often as you do now that you’ve joined the crew. Everyone who calls the Bebop home has spent a moment or two sitting in that special place of yours- but it’s still yours. It’s always going to be yours. So it’s not unusual to find you there. Sitting in it comfortably for hours and hours to no end. It’s not unusual to find you like this at all. 

  Starring outside the window, gazing at the stars. A blanket you took from home draped over your legs and a few pillows you bought from a market on Mars a little after you joined the crew. You’re thinking about something. It’s written all over your face, even though you have it half turned away from him. Still, he can tell. After all this time living with you, he knows. One hand on your chin, supporting your head as your distracted eyes look at all the world has to offer you. The other hand, down by your waist- absently stroking a sleeping Ein’s fur as the dog curls up in your lap without a care in the world. He sees it too clearly. There’s something on your mind. 

And he’d be lying if he said he didn’t want to find out what. 

  “Hey,” Spikes murmurs quietly, trying not to break the peaceful atmosphere you created for yourself. He stands right by the entrance to this room, leaning against the wall to give you all the space you needed before he draws closer to you. But perhaps, it was too quiet of an attempt. You make no move to show that you heard his voice. Your fingers never stop making their way through Ein’s fur for a moment. Nor does your mind ever seem to have stopped moving to register his words. You’re off in your own little world. Distracted, as usual. But that won’t stop him from trying to find you- where you drifted off to this time.“You there, sweetheart?”

  Sweetheart.

  It wasn’t supposed to happen. In fact, he had been trying to keep that from happening for so, so long. And yet, the nickname slips out so easily. Almost as if it was second nature. But again, you don’t seem to hear a word that had been said to you. You just don’t.

  Still, that does little to stop Spike’s cheeks from growing warm and his overall embarrassment from that small moment of no composure. His saving grace is that you’re still looking at the stars. Still stroking Ein’s fur. Still off in your own world. He could only imagine your reaction to something so bold coming from him. You wouldn’t have been able to handle hearing something so intimate. Hell, you’re hardly able to handle a compliment from anyone on the crew- especially from him. But maybe that’s why he can’t help but call you sweetheart in his head whenever he looks at you. 

  Maybe that’s why he couldn’t help but call you that out loud too.

  Out of the corner of his eye, something shifts. For once, he decides to take his eyes off of your face to follow the movement that his mind only vaguely registered. Luckily, he doesn’t have to shift his gaze far. In an instant, he’s able to tell that his eyes caught on Ein moving around in your lap. He was freshly woken up from slumber- his look complete with a silent yawn and a sleepy gaze that peered out at Spike and stared deep into his soul. 

  And like any normal person, he stares back at the mutt, giving it the glare he could muster. And hoping that this will be the day the stupid dog finally takes the hint. Spoiler alert: he doesn’t.

  Instead, the dog just continues to look and look and look at him. With that stupidly annoying cute little doggy face of his- Spike doesn’t blame him for staying put. Even though Ein is now fully awake, your fingers never stop running themselves through his fur in that steady, constant motion of yours. Your eyes are still looking out. Your gaze is still far away. But Ein makes no move to get off your lap. He makes no move to give you space. No move to give your hand a break. No move to stop selfishly taking up your precious time and energy when you should be spending it on-

  Okay, no. 

  Spike isn’t jealous of a dog.

   He’s not. He can’t be. But just because he’s not jealous of the dog doesn’t mean he can’t acknowledge when something is unfair. For example, Ein taking all your time is unfair. It leaves you very little time for yourself, in Spike’s opinion. Or Ein always wanting to lay near or on you is completely unfair too. How are you ever supposed to be alone like that? How are you ever supposed to sit down and be comfortable with a tiny, four-legged, foul-breathed space heater that is always trying to be in your space-

  He pauses his thoughts for a second. For two. For three. Perhaps four. And then, he sighs.

  “What the hell is wrong with me?” He can’t help but mutter under his breath with a shake of his head. A thought he doesn’t mind sharing with the near-empty room- even if you’re not even present enough in the moment to hear him. Because he’s not looking for an answer or a response. He’s not even looking for acknowledgment. Because at the end of the day- he’s far too busy for something of the sort. “See what you do to me, sweetheart?”

  He’s far too busy, looking at you.

  You’ve barely moved an inch and yet you’ve captured all his attention. You haven’t said a word, yet his ears are tuned in to hear you and you alone. Before meeting you, he didn’t he would ever fall in love again. Before meeting you, he didn’t think he was even capable of falling in love ever again. But things change. Things change, and now there you are- looking out that stupid window, while petting that stupid dog and sitting in that stupid seat in the corner as your mind swirls around with those big, beautiful thoughts he knows you’re having at this moment and somehow he’s still standing here in complete silence watching you. Somehow he’s still hoping for the chance that you’ll notice him competing for your attention. Waiting to meet your eyes. Waiting to hear your voice. To see your smile.

  Somehow, he’s in love. 

  He didn’t think it was possible. Completely, wholly, fully in love. With a person so soft and so sweet he drives him insane. Because you’re so different from him. The type of different that makes it hard for him to think around you. The type of different that makes it so that all he can think about is you. You’re not like the people he meets in this world. You’re not like any of them. And he knows that people like you are the first to get hurt. The first to get their hopes dashed. Their dreams ruined. Their lives stolen.

  But he also knows that it’s getting increasingly hard to think about living in a world without you in it. So hard, that he swears he’ll do everything in his power to make sure it doesn’t happen. That it never happens. Never. Even if means he has to survive a universe where all you do is look out at the stars and think. Even if means he has to learn how to thrive in a world where all he can do is watch you from afar.

  And think about what it would be like if he just had you.

  So he’ll admit it. He’s jealous of the dog. So, so jealous. He is. He’s jealous of the dog, and deep down inside of him, he knows it’s stupid. He knows it’s dumb. But he can’t help it. He just can’t help but fall victim to that feeling. He’s jealous of the dog. He’s jealous of Ein. Just like he’s jealous of that little seat in the corner that you built up for yourself. It’s a place you find so safe. So wrapped up and warm. It’s a place that makes you happy- he can’t help but wish it were him. He’s jealous of the stars outside the window. How they capture and keep your gaze for hours upon hours. Showing you a beauty he’s not sure he could ever give you. Not while his hands are still stained in blood, at least. But most of all?

  He’s jealous of all the thoughts swirling around your head. So, so jealous. 

  So he hopes for your sake, they’re beautiful. Things that are more beautiful than the stars. Things that are softer than the clouds. Things that are somehow sweeter than you. And he hopes for his sake?

  That your thoughts find a way to include him too.

U NEED TO READ THIS ASAP!!!!

Anywhere | Spike Spiegel x reader

pictures not mine, edit is mine gender neutral reader edited: yes warnings: angst, swearing, canon-level violence/blood, ambiguous ending, low-key/ possible death summary: Flying is the fastest form of travel but it always feels much slower when you need to be somewhere. Anywhere. a/n: idk why I've only been posting Spike smh. I have two other fics in the works for him too... I swear I write for other people I just never finish the fics... Also don't judge the song choice -- I started this a while ago and I don't have a good replacement.

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“Shit. Shit. Shit!” Spike was pacing, his hand running through his thick green curls. 

“I’m fine, Spike. I really am.” He knew you weren’t fine. The shock covered a lot of the pain so you weren’t technically lying, but the situation was much worse than you actually knew. Spike had to mentally slap himself. If Jet or Faye were there he would have asked them to hit him for real. He deserved much more than that. 

He stopped and kneeled down in front of you. His eyes were trying to look into your own but you couldn’t focus. “Come on,” He brushed your cheek with his thumb. “I know where to go.” He didn’t have much time to lose and he had already wasted so much being dumb. He was pacing and worrying when he should have been flying. Taking you somewhere. Anywhere. 

He came over and lifted you as gently as he could. He was trying to be quick and ended up a little rough in his haste. You winced and he wanted to slap himself again for hurting you. He lowered into the Swordfish the best he could, arms around you as you tried your best to place your feet on the floor. Eventually he got into his seat and sat you across his lap, your head fell on his shoulder.

The ship was starting up, but it wasn’t fast enough for Spike. His whitened knuckles gripped the steering wheel with such force even the half dazed (Y/n) had noticed. “Calm down. Don’t stress yourself out… It’s alright.”

“Calm down? How can I--” He sighed. There was no use fighting with you. You were always so selfless, even when you were dying. He didn’t want to upset you, anyways. He didn’t know what you needed now except a doctor. But yelling at you didn’t seem like it would help.

“Spike.” He looked down at your tired eyes. Space was fleeting past, it was good they were in deep space or he might’ve gotten a ticket. Deep space, though, did not have any doctors. He originally thought of going to Jet on the Bebop but his level of expertise and available technology was far less than what you needed. 

“Spike, it hurts…” Your eyebrows knit together loosely, obviously in pain but too weak to show it. 

“I know, sweetheart. I know.” He kissed your forehead lightly and you moved in closer to him. Your cold nose brushed against his neck causing him to shiver. You two were already a bit stuffed in the small ship, but you appreciated his comfort. His warmth. 

The two of you never left the other’s sides, even when he was catching the most dangerous bounties. You weren’t a bounty hunter, just some stray the crew had picked up. They had a knack for doing that. Spike knew you shouldn’t come along but he felt so protective of you. He never could find the strength to leave you behind, especially when you gave him those puppy eyes. The two of you were used to being abandoned and you neither wanted it to happen again. This made your friendship a really… close one. 

Spike looked back up at the stars in front of him. He had no clue if he could find help where he was going but he needed to try. He was rushing to the closest planet, whatever one that might be. If he were to ruin another life because of his selfishness… 

“Can we listen to music?” Spike was not in the mood for music, but he also wasn’t in the mood for making you feel worse than you already did. He clicked on the system, your music already hooked up from the amount of times you ride with him. 

The song that came on was some old one that (Y/n) had found. It was from nearly 60 years ago now, from some genre Spike never cared about. (Y/n) loved it, though. You liked all the sad and relatable lyrics, the ones that you tried to mouth along to now. The ones that were piercing through Spike’s heart. 

“Thinking about the past again. Darling, you'll be okay.” Spike couldn’t help but really listen to the words. The music he always poked fun at you for listening to was the same music that would be there to mock him as you died in his arms. ‘It’s both loud and sad, why do you like this again?’ ‘It’s called emo music,’ you had told him. ‘Emo means emotional! You’re supposed to find it sad and relatable.’

The next song came on and he could no longer hear your soft singing. You knew all the words and never missed a chance to sing along to it when you could. He looked down, seeing your eyes closed peacefully. 

“(Y/n)?” As much as he was glad to see you rest, he couldn’t really tell the difference between your napping and, well. You were always such a soft breather too, always wanting to remain ignored and unseen, even while asleep. 

“I’m awake… But really tired.” You spoke with your eyes closed, unable to find the strength to open them again. You pushed your face into Spike's neck, trying to get more comfortable under the circumstances. “Let me take a nap.”

“I know you’re tired… Just, don’t go to sleep. Okay?” 

Turning your head to look up at him, you finally opened your eyes enough to take in the stress radiating from your best friend. “Nothing’s going to happen, Spike. Stop worrying.” You lifted a hand up to his cheek, trying to calm him but doing a bit of the opposite. “Oh, oh no. I’m so sorry I--” You pulled down your sweatshirt sleeve to cover your hand, trying to use it to wipe the blood you’d just left on Spike’s face.

He didn’t care about getting blood on him but he did care that the blood was coming from you. He was trying not to look down at the source of the blood. The wound had long soaked through your shirt and had made a good stain through your sweatshirt. 

It was a miracle you were doing this well (if you could call it that) after all this time had passed. Spike didn’t want to push his luck. The city’s horizon gleamed ahead, Mars had never seemed so beautiful. He let his mind wander away from you for a moment. He wondered what he’d explain to the doctor. He’d have to come up with a good story for the police, too. With all the wealth in the city, more of them were jumping for a chance to find crime and then be paid off to ignore it. 

“We’re almost there.” Spike spoke at you but never looked down, too busy trying to find someone who could save you. If it could be done. You didn’t respond, already passed out again. Spike didn’t really have the flexibility to steer and wake you up at the same time. His head began to throb, stress taking over. It hurt like hell, but it was nothing compared to what you must feel. 

“(Y/n)? (Y/n)!?” You stirred a bit, swatting him weakly. 

“I’m sleeping…” 

Spike's voice got softer, content that you were okay. Well, okay enough to respond. “Now’s not the time to go to sleep. We’re almost there, okay?” 

“But I'm tired now.” You were acting like a child, half cute and half from delirium. 

“I know, I know. You can sleep on the Bebop later. For now you have to stay awake. I don’t know how bad this thing is.” His eyes only flickered to your wound, unable to look longer. You sighed, done with him being melodramatic. 

Spike didn’t think he was being dramatic. You just had to save that kid. You had to risk your life and play the hero. You had to go and get shot near all of your major organs. 

“I’m fine. With the amount of times… Jet has had to wrap up your whole body… I’m surprised this… tiny thing… worries you.” Your speech had slowed significantly. It took considerably more effort to get even one word out now, much less an entire sentence. Even you, in your dubious state, couldn’t argue that there wasn’t something wrong. 

Spike opened his mouth to retort but retracted quickly. Once again, there was no point in arguing now, he’d do it later when you were not dying in his arms. He was a lot stronger than you were and had been in this rough business a lot longer. He was highly trained and had much more restraint. Jet wasn’t a real doctor either, everytime Spike was completely bandaged the wrap job was probably a bit exaggerated. And even then he was stuck on couch rest for weeks. He, in all of his years of practice and development, could take it. You were strong mentally, sure. You were the most strong and stable thing in Spike’s life. But this wasn’t exactly a willpower sort of thing.

“I can’t wait for you to get better so I can yell at you for how reckless you were.” He tried to lighten the mood rather unsuccessfully. You laughed softly, ending in a rough cough. You raised your sleeved arm to cover your mouth but when you brought it away it was stained red. 

You tried to ignore this. Hopefully Spike hadn’t seen. “You’re too nice to yell.”

“I’ll get Faye to yell at you then.” You smiled, happy for the casual conversation. It wasn’t meant to last, though, as another coughing fit began. Spike looked down again to try and calm you, but he quickly noticed how your gray sweatshirt turned dark and how the inside of your lips were tinted red.

“Shit, (Y/n). We need to hurry up. You’re coughing up blood.” You were about to reply with something snarky but you’d used up all your words. You moaned, the pain starting to come back. You couldn’t believe the shock had lasted this long. 

The ship began to land outside of a pristine white building, a red cross above the front door. You were not supposed to park there, but Spike didn’t care. There was only one thing he cared about now. 

You moaned again, softly whimpering into his jacket. He kissed the top of your head before quickly opening the Swordfish’s hatch. “You’re going to be okay. We’re here. You’re okay.” You didn’t know if he was convincing you or himself but his rough voice was the last thing you heard before blacking out. 

If u can ...mmm can u do like ... Basycally they are in a fight (Vash,Wolfwood and you) there are many gunshots but in the end wolfwood and Vash beat the criminals thinking that it was ok and fine but then they hear gasp and "g...guys..." as they turn they saw y/n shaking looking at them with one hand holding the bullet wound in the chest,the other full of blood, then they fall on their knees and they panic,crying saying that it hurts, saying that they don't want to die,so they clench on him, then Vash trying to stop the bleeding?

U can put like some reassuring Vash and wolfwood saying that help his coming,crying and all that,also the bullet was out and leaved a huge gap?

U can be as detailed as possible or put so much pain yada yada,blood and all

I'm gonna read the writing u did now

I absolutely love this idea. I think I'll need some fluff or something other than angst after this though lol. I love angst but too much and I'm burnt out for sure.

PLEASE STAY --- Vash & wolfwood

SUMMARY: Everyone was in check right? They got all the bad guys. Everyone was okay, right? Seems they've sadly struck an unlucky mine.

Warning: Blood, hella angst

NOTES: I'm leaving this written as is, sorry but I just can't find it in myself to write the ending at the moment. I would have written it later then posted it but I figured I'd get this out the way first.

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"Was that the last one?" Nick turns to Vash with his cross ready to fire again. Taking a simple glance around, Vash nods his head with a small smile.

"Yeah, that-" Vash is cut off by a loud gasp. Turning to look behind him, his skin grows ice cold. Both men swear they can feel their hearts stop when they look. On your knees you shake and shudder in fear, blood spills over your hand from where it clutches your chest tightly. You can't feel it but the blood is so warm against your skin and the bullet in your body feels so cold.

"G... Guys?"

Nick's cross falls to the ground with a loud thud as he rushes to your side, his hands clutching your shoulders as he looks you over. "Oh god." He stammers. The cigarette delicately placed between his lips falls between his knees, he can feel you shaking in his hands. A spike of panic rises in his chest and his throat squeezes. Behind him, Vash watches the scene unfold in horror. Frozen in place, his heart pounds in his ears. Was this happening?

"Fuck! Make it stop, make it stop! It hurts, fuck it hurts!" You clench your eyes shut in pain. The initial shock has worn off leaving you stripped bare to the pain settling in your bones. If you could dig yourself a hole and never come back, God you would. Fisting Nick's shirt with a scream, you slip against him, your forehead resting on his shoulder.

"I'm going to die. I don't want to die. Nick, I don't wanna die." If there's anything 'The Punisher' should be well versed with, it's death. This, he knows better than anyone. Watching the light fade from someone's eyes as they shudder their last breath and slump limply into the ground. He always watches nonchalantly, not a single emotion stirring inside his chest. But now, it's burning alive with fear and anxiety.

"Vash! Do something!" The death of another has always been inconsequential to him but as you shake and sputter in his arms, blood gushing from your chest while you scream in pain, he feels a switch inside of him flip on like a light. After all these years, it's finally coming back to bite him in the ass.

Vash appears beside him with a torn flap of fabric from his cross cover. Pulling you away from his body he tenses, watching you limply flob around like a discarded rag doll. Vash leans forward, his arms wrapping around you to tie the cloth around your chest. The hand covering the wound falls limply at your side as he tightens the cloth down. Vash extends his arms to take you.

"c'mon, c'mon..." He urges Nick to pass you to him. As gently as he can, Nick places you in Vash's arms bridal style. "It's going to be okay. Don't worry. I've got you now." Vash takes off running, leaving Nick to hurriedly gather his cross and join the chase.

"Just how do you think we're getting help?" Nick asks as he finally catches up to the blonde. He's pointedly staring ahead, his eyes fixated on the closest running truck.

Coming to a stop at the door Nick pulls it open and raises a gun to the driver. "Get out or your next."

Eyes wide with fear, the driver dies out of his seat and onto the dusty ground. Taking his cross he throws it into the bed of the truck and rushes to the other side, where he climbs into the driver's seat and waits for Vash to settle in. The moment that door closes, the tires are kicking up dirt.

"There's a doctor at the far end of town. Hurry." Vash tells him as he looks down at you in his arms. Your shaking profusely, your hands reaching to tug at his jacket. The world around you feels like it's frozen over and it's hard to keep your eyes on anything. "Vash... I'm cold. Please..." You whine. He hushes you. "Don't worry." Carefully his arms slip from underneath you to slide his coat off.

"Just relax." The coat drapes over your entire body and surrounds you with a shield of warmth but it's not enough. It feels like Ice is still building in your veins. Everything going on at once is running your body thin, making your eyes grow heavy and sleep weight in the back of your mind. No matter how hard you peel them open, blinking holds them shut while you struggle to wake back up.

"I can't keep my eyes open." The truck slows to a stop and both the doors fly open.

"Don't fall asleep!" Nick yells as he reaches your side. Still in Vash's arms you struggle to open your eyes again, something calls to you in your head. It begs for you to succumb to the darkness but you refuse.

"Keep your eyes open. Look at me." Vash begs.

Running into the building, Nick rushes to the front desk. "We need medical attention right now. There's been a bullet wound to the shoulder and they're losing conscience." He stammers.

The woman behind the desk stands and runs to Vash's side. "Come with me baby." She places a hand on his back and hurriedly pushes forward towards the operating room. Behind them follows Nick who struggles to keep up. The woman is talking to you, lightly slapping your face to keep you awake. It works for the most part but you can't bring yourself to move. You've lost too much blood.

"Emergency. Coming in!" She yells holding the door open to usher them in. The doctor perks up at the four of you entering. Upon seeing you he frowns and gestures for you to be laid on the table. Gingerly, Vash places you against the cold bed, his coat still covering your shivering body. He watches in horror while the lady starts to guide him away from you, pushing back against her he watches you turn to look at him.

"Please stay."

The door shuts in his face and for the first time, Nick watches him crumble to the floor; his head held in his hands while sobs wrack his body. The ever joyful, Vash, was crying.

Nick couldn't find it in himself to keep watching, just hearing Vash cry was enough to make his own eyes water. Turning away to leave, he pulls a cigarette from its pack and brings it to his lips. As he walks away, he starts to hope that you'll recover quickly, that way he won't ever have to see you like that again. Looking down to slide his cigarettes in his pocket he finds his suit covered in your blood. You lost so much... A blood transplant was surely needed. Between him and Vash he wasn't entirely sure if either of them would be of use in that matter but it darkens the sliver of hope in his heart.

Stopping him from straying any further away is Vash's hand around his wrist. Just as Nick turns to face him Vash hugs him tightly. Sobs still fall from his lips and blood covers his entire torso. He doesn't bother to offer any comfort to the blond and instead allows him to cry to his heart's content against him. There's just not enough energy for him to care for another person besides himself.

YESSS YESSSS

I Choose You Wolfwood x Reader

A/n: Not a request but something I’ve been meaning to write when I first watched Wolfwood get introduced. This is much different from what you’ve seen of my writing so far. Let me know what you think! I try to do gender neutral with the reader but for this piece I’m going to make the reader female. Also mild trigger warning for those who don’t have a great relationship with religion. There’s a scene where I get into it after the read more button. Read at your own discretion.

You had no idea the impact that Nicholas Wolfwood would have on your life when you met on that faithful day. You were just an ordinary medic, except you ran away from your home and the religion that you grew up. You couldn’t take it anymore with their teachings and being forced to help people you didn’t exactly felt comfortable with. You thought anywhere was better than living or working with a cultlike community. Eventually you bumped into Vash, Meryl, and Roberto and managed to join the rag tag of a team.

You were traveling with them through No Man’s Land like any other day until you bumped into a man holding what looked like a giant wrapped up cross. You didn’t notice as you were bummed by the whole Jeneora Rock incident. It wasn’t until you felt a huge bump and felt yourself jolt from the impact and shaking your thoughts away.

“WHAT HAPPENED?” you asked as you saw a man unconscious. Meryl accidentally ran into a guy and you were panicking. You were not going to let him die on your watch.

“Hey! Stay with me! Guys I can patch him up but I need a place to work on him!” you panicked as you were trying to keep the man alive. You rushed to get him treated, and ended up in a nearby plant to nurse him back to health. Eventually he regained consciousness as you looked him.

“Hey are you okay? How are you feeling?” you asked. The man looked at you in a daze.

“Am I in Heaven because I’m looking at the face of an angel,” he muttered. You practically blushed as you were checking him.

“Sorry to burst your bubble, but you’re still alive. I’m a medic that helped patch you up,” you explained trying to force your blush away. You then found out how he was “a priest”. You were very skeptical of him as you were still wary of religion, and kept your distance. It wasn’t until you saw a child within the area who asked to help bury their parents and say a eulogy for them you saw this man’s true colors.

“Uh…Heavenly Father who art in Heaven…” the priest began began.

“Forgive us our sins o Lord, as we forgive those who sinned against us,” he continued as you furrowed your eyebrows. That was not how the Lord’s prayer went exactly, maybe it was a different iteration?

“Please welcome their souls and the souls of all those who have faithfully departed…Into your…in your…what is it? Welcome them into your humble abode…into your prayer gates,” he said.

You opened your eyes to peak at what the heck this man was saying as Vash and Meryl were all giving each other confused looks. You knew for sure, this guy was not a priest with what he was saying.

“Deliver unto them…Deliverance…not quite but I’m getting there,” the man tried to continue but he faltered as his “cross” was leaning towards the ground as he tried to catch it. You couldn’t take it anymore as you and Meryl smacked him on the head.

“SOME PRIEST YOU ARE! THAT’S NOT EVEN THE CORRECT WAY TO SAY THE LORD’S PRAYER!” you yelled at him.

“Oh? And just what makes you say that?” he asked growling at you while rubbing his head.

Continua a leggere

I CAME TO A REALIZATION THAT THIS MEN 👇👇

WILL DO THIS TO THEIR S/O IF THEY ASK THEM 👇👇😤

IM TOUCH STARVED OK?? LEAVE ME ALONE

Omg so true