#meryl so small she gets lost in the feathers | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

im-not-that-creative-guys · 1 year

Text

WHOS READY FOR VASHWOOD PAIN!?! BECAUSE I WASN'T!!!

This is the only fanfic I've ever written, but it needed to be written. Please leave feedback. WARNING: Major character death, suicide.

Steady footsteps crunch across sandy earth beneath his boots, so loud in his ears. The twin suns sinking beneath the horizon, small patches of dry grass swaying in the oncoming chill of a desert night. Vash weaves his way though a familiar path, stopping before a simple patch marked by a large metal cross.

Once barren, the place is now covered it growing flowers and vines, adding a softness to the harsh angles of the hand dug grave. It’s changed so much since the last time he was here, the small seeds sprouting into life, fed by the light rains that pass through the area. He makes the journey here at least once a decade, but it’s still a shock to see how much the sands had changed in the years since Wolfwood’s death.

Vash comes to a stop, sitting in the shade of the cross, leaning on its base, still sturdy after all these years.

“Hello again Wolfwood, I’m sorry for not visiting for so long. I got caught up in helping out one of my sisters terraform a small town over near new July for twelve years or so. But I bought you some whiskey this time.”

He rubs at his face, looking to the sky. A small sigh escaping his lips. “But I don’t have much to tell you this time,” he stops for a moment, needing to take a breath. “As bad as it sounds Nico, everything is starting to blend together now. People, places, traveling… I mixed up one of Meryl’s great great granddaughters for her mother, she’s in her forties now.” He had to stop.

He swallowed, shaking his head.

“I still haven’t aged at all, but... Nico I’m starting to forget now, even my memory has its limits it seems. I’m forgetting. Forgetting Milly laugh, Nei’s playing, Rems face, your eyes.” His voice was shaking, he just knew it.

“I’m so tired Nicolas,” voice small, barely a whisper. “The world has changed so much but I don’t think I have since Livio died.”

The wind blows his hair back, the cool night was starting to set in.

“I’ve been thinking lately, of the old days. Of when it was just us. Traveling everywhere and nowhere. Of the small rooms in every cheap inn we could find. When the sand storms would batter the walls. When I could lay at your side and breath in the sent of smoke.”

He reached into his pocket, pulling out a old lighter. The cross carved in the back was almost invisible now, worn away by time.

“Each day had been getting harder now, I meet so many people, but I don’t have a single one I could call a friend.” Another sigh. “I’m not eating, I’m not sleeping. But the thing that brought me back here, the last thing that’s pushing me towards the edge, is that they stopped making your brand of cigarettes.”

Digging around in his pack, he brought out a pack of the old cigarette, almost empty. With shaking hands, he brings one to his lips, breathing it in with relief.

“This is the last I have of you now. Your rosary snapped about seventy-five years ago, lost in the sands… I don’t think I’ll ever forgive myself for that.” Another deep drag, another sigh out.

“This is all I have to remember how you smelled, how you tasted,” he closed his eyes, feeling them burn, but not letting tears fall. “I think it’s time Nico. I miss you. But I couldn’t just leave without saying goodbye. So here I am. I can’t think of a better place to be.”

He reaches deep in himself, letting the feathers start to form, his skin lighting up with his marks. The marks Nicolas would kiss, would call beautiful. Showing all the parts of himself that he used to hate, but Nicolas adored.

“I don’t know what’s on the other side, if I can see you again. If your God is real, if he’s not. But if you are, oh heavenly father, please let me see him one last time. He doesn’t have to love me, all I need to just to see him happy, he just needs to live.”

Slowly Vash reaches for his side, to the ancient gun still at his hip. He studies it with a practiced eye, still functional, but rarely used now.

“A gentler world huh, I wonder if I’ll see it…”

He brings up his arm, setting it gently on his temple. When he pulls the trigger, he knows it won’t miss. “I’ll see you tomorrow Nicolas, promise ok?”

BANG.

#fanfiction #fanfic #short story #trigun stampede #trigun #vashwood

12 notes · View notes

ask-commander-wendy · 7 years

Text

Feathers For Flowers

Chapter One: House of Earth

It was the kind of rural town where everyone knew another, where kindergarteners and high schoolers shared the same school building, and where old wives’ tales still held a surprising amount of power.

Wendy’s family had always lived in the small, rural town, surrounded by trees older than time cares to remember. It was the kind of rural town where everyone knew another, where kindergarteners and high schoolers shared the same school building, and where old wives’ tales still held a surprising amount of power.

The first time Wendy could recall hearing about these stories was one summer, long ago at the age of ten. Like most children in her town, she spent the majority of her days playing in the fields behind her neighbors' houses, exploring the woods and imagining grand beasts to fight off. On that day, she had been playing soccer with a group of friends, which quickly turned into dodgeball, which quickly turned into keep-away. As the children got more and more lost in their antics, they only ventured further away from their houses, further into the woods, further than any of their parents would have ever allowed.

One of the older boys in the group in a rush to keep the ball away from Wendy kicked it as hard as he could, causing it to careen over the heads of all the children and out of sight as it flew over a large gathering of bushes. However, instead of the sound of the rubber ball rolling in the grass a few yards away, they heard the unmistakable sound of glass shattering. Any yelling and laughter from the children died immediately as they all looked at one another, all of them suddenly realizing the unfamiliar setting they were in. The eldest boy, named Meryl, cursed under his breath, which his sister let a small gasp out at hearing the word their mother forbade them from using.

“Well, you were it anyways, Wendy. You go get it.” She turned her head to Meryl in disbelief.

“Me!? You’re the one that kicked it that hard!” She stood her ground, expecting her friends to rally around her. It took a moment of silence and awkward glances to the ground to realize that she wouldn’t be saved from this situation by any of them. Her frown grew and she let out a huff of air.

“Well… fine! Since you’re too scared anyways…” She paused for another moment, hoping beyond hope that someone else would volunteer to venture off to get the ball, but they all remained completely still. Realizing she was truly on her own, she turned and began carefully stepping through the bushes, her hair getting caught on a branch every few seconds. Something felt odd about the gathering of bushes. They were bigger than any she had seen around her town, even as someone who prided herself on being an explorer that had found every nook and cranny of the sleepy village. They easily reached a foot over her head and were nearly too thick for a person to navigate through, but this definitely wasn’t her first time fitting through tight spaces, and by this point, she knew she would look like a chicken if she turned back now.

She reached her hand out in front of her to push more leaves out of her face when she felt her fingers break through the other side of the bushes. She let out a sigh of relief, quickly pushing the rest of her body out and to freedom. The feeling was short lived as she took in the sight in front of her.

Only a few yards away was a house, or at least what remained of one. It wasn’t uncommon to see abandoned houses and shacks in this part of the country, but something about this felt immediately different to her. The age was indiscernible to her, but her young brain took a guess that it had been there since the beginning of the world. Old dried paint peeled off the wooden sides of the house, large, massive vines wrapping themselves around the chimney and columns on the front porch. It felt as though the house came from the Earth itself.

As she looked over the ancient house, and her eyes landed on a window right next to the front door, the glass shattered and exposing the dark insides of the domain. She swallowed hard, only vaguely relieved by the fact that it was an abandoned house. Cautiously, she walked towards the house, the grass long enough to tickle the back of her knees. Wendy only barely noticed, but the usual sounds of the forest seemed to completely die out. There wasn’t a single chirp of a bird or shuffling of woodland creatures across the forest floor. The only sound that could be heard was the cold, empty wind blowing across the leaves around her.

Just as Wendy was about to set foot on the front porch, there was a noise from inside the house. She froze immediately. Silence for another minute, before the front door slowly opened up. Wendy felt nearly paralyzed as she looked into the house, no light whatsoever reaching beyond the threshold. She saw something quickly sliding out the door towards her, and was just getting ready to scream when she realized it was her rubber ball. It rolled across the front porch and stopped only a few inches in front of her. The young girl looked down at it in disbelief, still, a bit shook. She kept an eye on the entrance as she carefully bent down to pick up the ball, holding it under her arm.

“… t-thank you. Sorry about the win-” Before she could finish, the door slammed shut, causing her to yelp out loud.

She backed away a few steps, afraid to take her eyes off of the house. When she was greeted with the same cold breeze, she quickly turned and ran back towards the bushes.

Upon her return to the group, there seemed to be a noticeable wave of relief washing over the children, which they quickly threw off as they began joking and playing yet again. It was getting late, and they knew they would get in trouble if they didn’t head home soon, so they decided to have a race back to the opening of the woods. Wendy had come in last that day, but only because she couldn’t help but look back behind herself every few seconds as they moved further and further away from the gathering of bushes. At dinner that night, she sat with her parents, picking at her plate of chicken and potatoes. Wendy was usually very boisterous about her daily adventures, but she fell strangely quiet at the table this evening. It didn’t go unnoticed by her mother, who rested a hand on her shoulder.

“Honey, are you ok? Did any of the other kids give you trouble today?” She asked, her voice easily reflecting her concern.

“No… I just saw something weird.” She responded, twirling her spoon in circles on her plate.

“Weird? Well, what was it?” Her father interjected, still carrying a bit of his usual lightheartedness in his tone. The young girl sat her spoon down.

“Is there someone that lives out in the woods mama? I thought you said all of our friends and family live by the roads.”

The table fell deadly quiet as her father's cheerful demeanor dropped almost immediately.

“Wendy, did you see someone in the woods today?” Wendy sat up, feeling dread building in her stomach as her parents nearly glared holes through her.

“I think so. I was playing with everyone else today and we almost lost our ball. When I went to get it, I found this really old house that-” She was cut off as her mother immediately got out of her chair and kneeled in front of her.

“Wendy, honey. You can’t ever, ever go back to that place. Do you understand?” Wendy felt on the verge of tears at this point, afraid that she had somehow accidentally angered her parents.

“W-why? Did I do something bad, mama?” She asked, her voice quivering softly.

“No, oh no honey. It’s just…” Her mother glanced back at her father, as though looking for the correct answer in him.

“That… that man. The man who lives there is very sick, honey. He’s very sick and if you’re around him, you could get sick too, do you understand?” Wendy was quiet for a second before she softly nodded her head. Her mother pulled her down to give her a surprisingly tight hug around her neck, rubbing comfortingly over her back, reassuring herself that everything would be ok. At the time, Wendy couldn’t tell if the reassurance was more for her or for her own mother.

#one piece oc #writing #((thought id go ahead and post this to keep yall busy while im still neck deep in daddies))

7 notes · View notes