lorei_07



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  1. Public Bookmark *

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    “Look me in the eye, Blondie, and repeat after me.”

    “Repeat after me,” Vash parrots dutifully, like the little shit he is.

    “I, Vash the Stampede, Broom for Brains, Dumb of Ass, Bearer of the Stupid Face—”

    “There you go hurting my feelings again,” Vash says, but he’s smiling. A real one. As soft as mashed fucking potatoes. It pisses Wolfwood off enough to slam that pretty face into the concrete. Or into his own face. He hasn’t decided just yet.

    “—will save my own life for once and get out of town without making an ass of myself.”

    “You’re talking about my ass a lot.”

    And then Vash kisses him.

    OR

    Nicholas, and the scars he doesn’t have.

    Language:
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    1/1
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    12 Mar 2026

  2. Public Bookmark *

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    Wolfwood looks different. Different than even the hundreds of ghosts—threads of shimmering grey shot through his temples and fine lines splintered out around his eyes like someone dragged a feather through damp clay. Like he’s aged almost decade in the year since he—

    “Died,” Vash rasps. “You died.”

    Wolfwood’s eyebrows shoot up in an expression that Vash has remembered so many times that his own faulty memory rewrote over the real thing.

    “This isn’t—how?” he asks, voice warping around the cold static clogging his mouth.

    “You ever hear of Jesus Christ?” Wolfwood grins, and it’s exactly the same. Like no time has passed. Like he’s so proud of his stupid joke. Like Vash didn’t lay his still-warm corpse in the ground and bury him on the other side of that building.

    Like the inexorable inspiral of a binary star, Vash is drawn back to the orphanage in December and the unexpectedly empty grave of his dearest friend.

    Or, Vash and Wolfwood and all their tomorrows.

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    8/8
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    23 Feb 2026

  3. Public Bookmark *

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    After July, Wolfwood is left with nothing to his name but a piece of paper and a heavy cross to bear, so he returns to the only roots he ever had to try his hand at healing. It's a difficult process, but soon enough he'll discover that there's a damn good reason he can't let go.

    A voice calls from the east. He just needs to hear it.

    (A story about grief, healing, love, and one funny little housecat.)

    Language:
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    Words:
    452,785
    Chapters:
    59/?
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    14 Jan 2026

  4. Public Bookmark 46

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    "The simple fact was that Red was the sun, an eternal and ephemeral brilliance that the universe couldn’t help but orbit. Green used to kid himself thinking that he was some similarly grand celestial body, but truthfully, he wasn’t even bright enough to be a single star. No, he was just another idiot in a tin can, floating aimlessly through space, trying to prove he existed."

     

    A retelling of the story of Green Oak and Red Isamu, set to the song Poison Oak by Bright Eyes.

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    20 Dec 2025

  5. Public Bookmark *

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    Wolfwood carries a body.

    Vash is a walking death wish. A race between self-sacrifice and skill, and in all Wolfwood’s shitty years on this shit-ass planet he’s never met a man with so much of each.

    So maybe Vash taking a bullet to the head for him shouldn’t have been a surprise.

    ART BY WREN

    Language:
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    08 Dec 2025