good mornings throughout the travel
[ID: Two comics of Vash and Wolfwood from Trigun Maximum. The second is underneath the read more.
The first is in four panels and follows Vash and Wolfwood through hotel rooms. First, Vash and Wolfwood exit adjacent rooms, and Wolfwood has sparkles floating around him as he exclaims, “Rise and shine! Ready to go?” Vash frowns, displeased, and says, Urk— Good morning to you too.”
Next, they’re in a room with two beds. Wolfwood is awake and fully dressed. He’s sitting on the bed and smoking, back turned away from the viewer and he says, “Wake up already, sleepyhead.” Vash sits up with his eyes still closed and yawns before saying good morning. After that, they’re sharing a bed, and Wolfwood gets up and says, “Morning, sunshine. Time to get up.” His body shadows Vash from the sunlight. Vash is still lying down with a blanket draped over him as he mumbles good morning.
Finally, they’re embracing in bed, both shirtless. Sunlight shines on them, but their contact allows their shadows to drape over their faces. Vash smiles, kisses the top of Wolfwood’s head, and says, “Good morning, Wolfwood.” Wolfwood sleepily says, “Mph, g’morning, needle-noggin’,” snuggling into on Vash’s shoulder. End ID] ID CREDIT
TRIMAX Vol. 10 Spoilers under read more // bonus comic
[ID: The bonus comic starts with Vash asleep in bed, fully clothed with his hair half-black. Someone says “Good morning,” and Vash says, “Morning, Wolf—w...” He trails off as Livio, holding a plate of food, stares with abject shock.
Livio says, “I’m sorry.” Vash, smiling but sweating, says, “No, it’s my bad...” Livio repeats, “I’m sorry.” Vash says, “Geez, stop apologizing,” and cuts off Livio’s “I—” with a “Good morning, Livio.” Livio quietly mumbles, “... Good morning...”
Vash sits up from the couch he was sleeping on and looks down, thinking, “... That’s right. I won’t wake up to you anymore... I have to get used to that...” End ID]
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Man i missed drawing this nerd so heres a bunch of doodles of them in different drips
I hc that iterators that has major religious roles to their colony would be given an ancient mask as a sign of 'equality'. [Continued hc rambles below the cut]
Ancients would consider iterators their creations, therefore beneath them in a way, so giving them masks means they are seen as equal to Ancients. Because only someone of higher standing would take such influencial role.
Both Sliver and Suns took the role of priests to their colony so they have their own masks and ceremonial robes.
Suns in their early days as a young iterator almost leaned fully to the role of a singular religious leader until Omni stepped in. They still served as a priest though not as... intensely as before.
By the time younger gen iterators were made, Suns has considerably mellowed down and would only wear their mask and ceremonial robes when necessary. Now with the Ancients gone they don't really acknowledge it.
Pines seems to enjoy the fact that with the mask on, they and parent can match!
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"Captain."
The quill scratches roughly along the page, too aggressive for the paper softened and hardened over time by wear and tear and seawater air. Ink spills, making a mess of the log's entry, splotching over fingers and staining them almost black in the cabin's dim light, a flame flickering in its hold to the right, unaware of the tension in the air. Unaware of the captain's rapidly beating heart and his hands clenching around the quill until he fears it might break.
Although the fear he feels is not on behalf of the quill in his hand.
"Captain."
His first mate is insistent on gaining his attention, but he refuses to acknowledge that she already has it. He knows it can only mean one thing if she comes to him at this hour, if she seeks him out despite clear orders – or, rather, because of them.
"Steve."
He looks up, his jaw clenched, and the quill breaks, spilling ink all over his palm where the sharp tip is cutting into his skin with a spark of pain that pales in comparison to what he can find in her features.
Robin nods, imperceptible to every other soul in this universe. Every soul that is not him, attuned to her every move, every twitch of a brow, every hint of a frown, and every gesture that she dares him to overlook if only to have an excuse later on.
But she nods. And Steve swallows.
"It's him. He's back."
It's the captain who nods now, incapable of doing anything else, and feeling as his sanity slips away from him, through the cracks in the floorboards and sinking down to the bottom of the ocean to join his heart and his conscience. All have long been lost at the cause of one man.
"Thank you," he says, though his voice does not feel like his own, and the candle beside him flickers once more as if to signal that, really, he shouldn't be sounding like that. He blinks, deliberately, because he has been staring for too long and she doesn't need to know that he has been losing himself since the second she appeared at the door.
"Steve–"
"That's Captain to you."
She swallows, defiant, but choosing her battles wisely. He is grateful, for he hasn't the strength to argue any more than he has the strength to stand upright in this moment.
"Captain," she says, deliberate but gentle, because she knows and she forgives. "Are you alright?"
"No," Steve says, and his voice remains remarkably steady in this confession. "I'll be out in a second. Make sure they do not to say a word to him. Shoot everyone who does, or throw them overboard. Nobody talks to The– to Munson but me. Understood?"
"Understood," she says, straightening her posture, though her eyes remain worried and wary. There is more she wants to say, but Steve dismisses her before leaning his fists on the table and breathing deeply. The tip of the quill buries deeper into his palm and he closes his fingers around it, hard, to keep himself anchored and distract from one pain with another.
Theo is back. Theodore Munson. Though he will have a new name, Steve knows. But those eyes... Those eyes never changed, not once in all this time, and Steve fears that he will break apart if he has to look at them again and find no ounce of recognition. No memory of words whispered in the dark, of gentle touches to roughest scars, of time spent together in different lifetimes.
Steve plucks the tip soiled in ink and blood from his palm and reaches for a book hidden underneath a false bottom in the first drawer of the desk. A book with the initials T M pressed into fine, deep red leather.
He writes, with blood and ink in unsteady hold,
27th March
He came is back. I wish he weren't.
@vampeddie remember me talking about this before i disappeared? remember how you went insane? remember that you like me?
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For your one piece fanart please consider: Luffy finds himself thrown back in time and meets tiny Buggy and Shanks and for some reason Shanks just absolutely fucking despises him on sight while Buggy just thinks he’s the coolest guy he ever met “ YOU CAN STRETCH ALL OF YOURSELF?! That’s so cool! WHY DID THAT REDHEAD IDIOT MAKE ME CHOKE ON THIS DUMB FRUIT!!? THIS ONES MUCH BETTER.” “Whatever. He’s super lame.” “EY!!” “I could do so much cool shit with. Power like this… I could throw my knives so hard…”
I’m loving your idea, lol.
IMAGINE:
Luffy deals with the latest issue/adventure/whatever in his typical creative way. The boys are in absolute awe.
Then afterwards, Buggy goes and glues himself to Luffy’s side. Following him around like a lost duckling. He wants to go and do everything Luffy does. Help him out and join in on all his wacky fun.
It was all okay at first… until Shanks realized just how little he’s been seeing his best friend. And how hard it suddenly is to gain Buggy’s attention.
( A continuation of this )
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