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blondeboyfriend · 1 year

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𝐒𝐔𝐍𝐒𝐄𝐓 𝐂𝐔𝐑𝐒𝐄𝐒 (𝟏𝟖+)

𝐌𝐈𝐍𝐎𝐑𝐒 𝐃𝐍𝐈

[ PAIRING ] Vash the Stampede x f!reader x Millions Knives [ AUTHOR'S NOTE ] This is like an unholy mix of the manga and Stampede because I could not stick to one continuity. I took a big old shit on the timeline and decided to have Vash and Knives wander around No Man's Land together well into adulthood. Oh, and Vash still has his arm. [ SYNOPSIS ] After years of isolation two weary vagabonds turn your life upside down. [ WORD COUNT ] 8k [ CONTENT ] DARK CONTENT, canon AU, threesome (mmf), plantcest/incest, handjob, biting, nipple play, jealousy, dubcon, facesitting, oral sex (m + f receiving), degradation, humiliation, snowballing, everyone is emotionally damaged, everyone is HELLA dramatic, angst, voyeurism, exhibitionism, teasing, creampie, bittersweet ending.

It was the tail end of a blisteringly hot day. You sat in a rickety wooden dining chair, its straight back forcing you to remain upright. It was impossible to relax, the chair causing moderate discomfort. Granted it beat sitting in the sweltering hell that was your home. Your porch always came in handy on hellacious days like this, ones where it felt time was moving slower than usual.

It was rare you ever saw another soul around these parts. You lived on the outskirts of a well off town with three plants. Your home was a comfortable distance from the feral hostility everyone seemed to exude there. You could go days without seeing someone. Occasionally a drunk would get lost and end up banging at your door, an issue you remedied with a rifle, but other than you led a rather lonesome existence.

That’s why it was such a shock to see two figures on the horizon. Initially you thought your eyes were playing a trick on you, that maybe your brain was so desperate for company that it conjured up these humanoid mirages. As they got closer you noticed they weren’t a trick of the eye.

You sprung out of your chair to get your rifle and a few rounds. The heat inside was oppressive; you felt like you were going to collapse under the weight of it. You grabbed what you needed and practically threw yourself out the door.

The figures were in plain view now. It was two men, their features mostly obscured by tattered cloaks. You loaded your rifle and pointed it at them, not wanting to take any chances. The likelihood of them being harbingers of devastation was too high.

Once they were within earshot you called out, “Stay back! I don’t want any trouble!”

They stopped dead in their tracks. One of the men swayed and struggled to find his balance. The other quickly reached out, grabbing him by the waist. He continued making his way over to you, dragging the other man along with him.

You cleared your throat. “I’ll shoot if I have to!”

This didn’t seem to deter the conscious one. Your hands were clammy and starting to tremble. Usually threats were enough to ward strangers off. You’d never actually had to shoot anyone before.

“I—I mean it!” you shouted, trying to convince yourself.

You finally got a view of his face. He was pale, eyes a striking blue-green with long blonde lashes. They seemed to bore holes into your very being. It was an intensity that was frightening yet intriguing. In any other situation you would run inside and hope he wouldn’t breach the door, but you were stuck. Transfixed by his unflinching determination.

“I’m serious!”

You backed up, nearly tripping over yourself. Your rifle was loose in your grip. You felt small, vulnerable. You could picture your demise, your blood spilling and turning the sand around you a hideous red.

“Stop!” you shrieked.

The man winced.

“Stop screaming,” he replied gruffly.

“Stop coming closer then!”

The unconscious man was roused by your lively discussion.

“We don’t mean you any harm,” he said, slowly lifting his head.

His cloak no longer obscured his face. He looked exactly like the other one, but warmer. His skin was sun-kissed. His fluffy hair was golden blonde and cut close at the sides. His eyebrows were dark and his eyes a soft blue. He lacked the otherworldly nature of the other man. His presence was disarming, more human.

“We need he—”

“Don’t waste your energy,” the other replied.

“Then ask if we can stay already,” he laughed.

“Vash!”

“What? I’m tired. I’m hungry. My feet hurt. All I wanna do is sit down,” he whined.

You held your rifle by your side. The whiny one wasn’t looking too good. For all his warmness, he looked like he was being trailed by death.

“My brother… He needs help,” one said through gritted teeth.

“There’s a town not too far off from here. They got a doctor. I bet she could help your brother.”

“He might not make it,” he replied, tone growing more frustrated.

“That sounds like a personal problem.”

He stepped forward, dragging Vash along with him. Your feet were locked in place. The urge to run was strong, but where the fuck would even go? Running out into the dunes would be a death sentence. And quite frankly that sounded unappealing.

When he came to the front of your porch he laid down his brother in the shade. He had lost consciousness again. He looked so frail on the ground, a pitiful existence. You made eye contact with the desperate man standing in front of you. He didn’t seem as intimidating up close, the worry in his eyes settling your nerves.

“Look at him.”

Vash’s breathing was labored, each inhale getting caught in his lungs. He did look terrible, but you weren’t sure what you could do other than give them a little water and send them on their way.

“Please,” he said, removing his cloak from his head. His hair was a pale ashy blonde, it almost seemed iridescent under the suns’ dying rays.

Vash snickered. “Di—did you just say please,” he said weakly.

“I’m doing this for you!”

The three of you went silent. The sky slowly turned from orange and pink to a muted purple.

“You guys can come in. It’s pretty stuffy inside though,” you said, gesturing towards your home. “I gotta open the windows… There should be a breeze coming through about now.”

“Thank you,” Vash said. He tried to stand, but couldn’t get up, his body too heavy for him to bear.

You hated to see anyone struggle and went to assist him. As you held out your hand, the other one slapped away your hand.

“Don’t touch him.”

“Nai, it’s alright,” Vash replied, taking your hand.

For someone looking so fragile, he was pretty heavy. You led him inside with Nai close behind.

“Sit here,” you said, guiding him to your plush sofa. It was the most luxurious thing you owned, a comfort you fought for at an illegal auction.

You went to open the windows, letting the cool breeze blow through the house. You lit your lanterns, filling your living room with a soft, yellow light.

“You can sit down too, y’know.”

Nai stood uncomfortably by the door.

“I’d rather not.”

“Suit yourself,” you said. You stood in front of him, wondering if he’d take a hint and move. “I need to get something from outside.”

He cocked an eyebrow.

“Beyond the door. The thing you’re blocking.”

He blushed and moved out of the way.

“Thank you,” you said, brushing past him.

There was nothing from outside you needed but they didn’t know that. Both suns had set below the horizon. The heat had tempered itself, now only a pleasant warmth paired with the cool breeze you longed for all day.

When you returned you found that Nai had finally made himself comfortable on the couch with Vash’s head in his lap. He was stroking his hair, a look of pure worry on his face. It contorted into disdain the second he registered your presence.

You passed by them briskly, pretending you had grabbed something. While in the kitchen you filled two glasses with water.

“Here,” you said, handing Vash a glass.

He eagerly took it and drank it all in one gulp. He let out a sigh of relief, one that softened your heart. You attempted to hand one to Nai but he recoiled.

“You sure?”

“I don’t need it.”

Vash grabbed the second glass from your hand without any hesitation and slammed the contents. His relieved smile had awakened something in you, a need to baby him, to take care of him.

“Do you have any food?” he asked, eyes sparkling.

You nodded and fetched some bread and dried worm meat. It was the only food you were willing to part with. Vash didn’t seem to mind, his face a pinnacle of gratefulness. It was refreshing. Such softness was hard to come by in No Man’s Land.

“Thank you,” he said with a mouthful of food.

You took a seat on the floor, keeping a safe distance from them. Vash seemed sweet, but Nai’s hostility remained. It kept you on edge.

“There’s a hotel in town. You could probably get a ro—”

“No. I’d like to avoid other humans as much as possible.”

Humans. The way Nai said it made it seem like he was spitting out poison.

“You two on the run or something?”

“No,” Vash yawned. “Just lazy.”

“You’re not lazy. You’re weak,” Nai muttered.

Vash sighed and rested his head on Nai’s shoulder. “Would you mind if we stayed?”

Nai flared his nostrils and stared out one of the windows. It was probably against your better judgment to house them, but you felt compelled. It wasn’t as if you didn’t have space. You had a spare room, one with a small but comfortable bed. And it wasn’t as if you ever used it.

“No. There’s a room upstairs you can stay in. Only one bed though. Hope that’s not a problem.”

Nai got up, hoisting Vash to his feet.

“Uh, it’s the one on the left. It gets a lot of sun in the morning so you might wake up sweaty. The blankets aren’t that heavy though.”

Nai led Vash up the stairs. Vash turned his head, making eye contact with you. His eyes were kind and beautiful, like the midday sky. He gave you a smile.

“Thank you,” he said as he disappeared.

You sighed, wondering what you got yourself into. Maybe they would leave in the morning before you woke up, their presence a mere fever dream. There’d be no complaints from you. They were rather odd, their actions unpredictable. You did feel a twinge of affection for the pitiful one, but you told yourself it would fade as fast as it came.

You woke up just before daybreak, stretching your arms above your head. Despite the circumstances you managed to sleep well. You assumed it was a good omen. It was rare you slept through the night without tossing and turning.

You made your way down the hall and heard muted voices coming from the spare room. Vash and Nai had stayed. Though maybe they were planning to leave once the suns breached the horizon.

The door was open enough for you to take a peek and maybe hear more of their conversation. You crept closer and shielded yourself behind it. You looked inside.

They were facing one another, wrapped up in each other’s arms. Their clothes were in little piles on the floor. Listening in on their conversation was the last thing on your mind. You couldn’t stop watching them. You assumed they were brothers because they looked nearly identical, but maybe that was a coincidence. Maybe they were lovers. You couldn’t think of any families that would lie in bed together completely nude. Let alone as tangled up as Vash and Nai were.

Just as you were about to sneak downstairs, your body betrayed you and you let out a bellowing sneeze.

“Shit,” you said, hauling ass downstairs.

You hoped neither had caught you spying. You usually weren’t that kind of person and you wished you could show them that. But pleading your case wouldn’t do you any good, and if you had any semblance of luck on your side, they would’ve thought you were just passing by innocently.

You paced around the kitchen. Your brain felt like it was on fire. They must have known you were there. They seemed perceptive enough. If they were wandering around the dunes, they must have sharpened instincts, better senses. How else would they have survived out there?

A distraction. That was what you needed. You open your cupboards and pulled out some of your more prized foods. A jar of fruit preserves, cinnamon bread, coffee, smoked meat from an animal you couldn’t remember, and a few peaches. It hurt to part with those. You had to talk to three different merchants before they’d even admit to having them. The townspeople were stingy when it came to anything that was fresh.

You set the table for three people even though you suspected Nai wouldn’t eat. You boiled some water, brewing some coffee once it reached the right temperature.

In the midst of your cooking you didn’t hear Vash and Nai come down the stairs. You were too caught up in licking peach juice off your knife.

“G’morning,” Vash said, yawning.

You looked over at them, your tongue still touching the blade. Nai looked at you wide-eyed, a blush blossoming on the apples of his cheeks. It was strange and endearing.

“Uh… hey,” you said, putting the knife down. “Food’s on the table.”

The two men took a seat. You set a plate down of sliced peaches and poured coffee into the mugs. When you went to serve Nai, he quickly covered the mug with his hand, letting a trickle of hot coffee coat his skin. His eye twitched briefly.

“Oops. My bad,” you said, using your sleeve to clean up the mess. It was an automatic response, one you immediately regretted.

Vash laughed with a mouthful of peaches. “Don’t apologize to him.”

“Don’t talk with your mouth full,” Nai hissed.

You didn’t like the tension that was building. When you went to change the subject Vash gave you a swift, hard kick to the leg.

“Ow! What is wrong with you?!”

Vash leaned across the table and grabbed your hand. “I’m sorry! I meant to kick him!”

You tried to ignore the throbbing pain in your leg by spreading preserves on a piece of bread, tears flooding your eyes. You shoved it in your mouth, hoping it would stop you from crying.

“I can’t believe you’d kick a poor, defenseless human,” Nai said with an impish smile.

“It wasn’t on purpose,” Vash said, glancing at Nai.

You swallowed and pulled your hand from his grasp.

“It’s fine,” you choked out. “I’m sturdy.”

“You could have fooled me.”

“Nai!” Vash chastised while he ate a spoonful of preserves. You wondered if he realized that was for the bread, or if he simply didn’t care.

The air in the room was thick, oppressively so.

“So how are you feeling?” you asked in an attempt to remedy that weight.

Vash plucked a peach slice off the plate. “Better, but I’m still pretty tired.” He shoved the peach slice into his mouth, muffling his voice. “If you need us to leave though, I get it.”

When you woke up this morning you hoped they would have disappeared into the night, but now you couldn’t bear sending them back out into the desert. It would be one thing if Vash was in good shape, but he still looked worn out.

“I don’t mind as long as you don’t kick me again.”

“Hm,” he said, stroking his chin as if deep in thought. “I don’t know if I can promise that.”

You pointed at the door. “Get out. Go die in the desert.”

“Make me.” He took a sip of coffee.

Nai stood up abruptly.

“I’ll be outside.”

“There’s not much to do out there… Actually there isn’t jackshit to do out there,” you said.

“I’ll figure something out,” he said gruffly.

He slammed the door as he made his dramatic exit.

“Don’t take it personally,” Vash said, eyeing the smoked meat you had put out.

“He’s your brother, right?” you asked.

He nodded.

“Ah, so you’re used to it then.”

“Yeah…” He looked outside the window. “He wasn’t always like that though.”

You didn’t know what to say so you opted to stay silent. You and Vash ate the rest of the food, not uttering a single word.

The brothers ended up staying for another day, and another after that… and another after that. Nai would disappear into the desert during the day while Vash was essentially up your ass. He followed you around the house like a puppy. He would always offer to help when you’d be cleaning or doing maintenance. Initially you rebuked him, telling him he needed to rest. But after a while you opted to take him up on it. You couldn’t deny that it was nice to have an extra pair of hands, and someone to talk to. It wasn’t until you had company that you realized how much you hated being completely alone all the time.

“How often do you go into town?” Vash asked, sweeping your bedroom floor.

You tucked your sheets under your mattress. “I try to avoid it as much as possible… I only ever go there when I need food.”

“Like those peaches?” he asked, voice full of longing.

You laughed. “Yeah, like those peaches.”

As you were smoothing out your blanket, he came up behind you. His body was pressed up against your back.

“Do you have any more?”

His tone seemed flirtatious but you didn’t want to assume anything. Plus maybe he realized that peaches weren’t cheap and thought he needed to butter you up to score another.

“Hmm?” he asked, his face practically buried in your neck.

You sighed. “You’re lucky I like you. C’mon.”

You brushed him off and led him downstairs. The second you handed him a peach took a bite out of it. You had never noticed how sharp some of his teeth were. You watched him intently, unable to stop yourself.

“I wonder what your brother is up to.” You didn’t actually care, but you needed to distract yourself.

Peach juice made it way down his hand all the way to his forearm. Without any hesitation, he lapped it up, staring deep into your eyes.

“He’s probably just wandering around,” he said before taking another bite.

“Really? I feel like that’d get old after a couple days,” you replied, trying to ignore the throbbing sensation between your legs.

He shrugged and licked the part of the peach he had just bit. If you didn’t know any better, you’d think he was doing it on purpose. You tried to act as unaffected as possible.

Thankfully Nai walked through the door, covered in sand and tracking it in the house. You groaned and contemplated why you even bothered cleaning.

“What happened to you?” Vash asked.

“Did you almost get swallowed by the sand pit?”

“... I might have.”

“Been there,” you said. “Want to eat a peach about it?”

“No.”

He looked less intimidating coated in rust-colored sand, more boyish. It was kind of cute.

“I’ll be upstairs,” he muttered.

He turned away, posture rounded, and made his way up the stairs. Vash frowned and followed him, leaving his half-eaten peach on the table. You snatched it and bit into it, savoring the juices. You thought about how it would feel to lick it off his chest. You felt feral as you devoured it.

Holding the peach pit in your hand was humiliating. You hated yourself for eating it. You wanted to stay in control and not lose yourself to your carnal urges. But Vash was making that increasingly difficult. You decided to sleep it off on the couch. A nap would do you some good.

When you woke up it was nighttime. Darkness had settled in your house. You carefully got up and lit a lantern. You had no concept of what time it was. All you knew was that you were still tired and you still couldn’t stop thinking about Vash eating that fucking peach. It haunted you. He must have known what he was doing. He could not be that naive, that innocent.

Your plan was to go straight to your bedroom, but the awful morning breath that had settled in your mouth was too much. Brushing your teeth was of the utmost importance. You hip checked the bathroom door only to find it occupied.

“Oh fuck!” you said, quickly shutting the door.

“Did you need something?” Vash asked.

You pressed your forehead against the door.

“I wanted to brush my teeth.”

“Well don’t be a stranger,” he laughed.

You let out a muted groan and opened the door. You kept your eyes on your sink, careful not to look over at Vash and Nai. You put your lantern down and brushed your teeth.

“Did you have a good nap?” Vash asked.

You spat into the sink. “I don’t know. I hate napping that long. Not seeing the suns set is—” You made the mistake of looking over at them and lost your train of thought. “... disorienting.”

They were in your tub. Vash sat on one side hugging his knees to his chest, taking up as little space as possible. Nai was on the other fully reclined with his brother in between his toned legs.

“That’s understandable. Hopefully you can sleep tonight,” he replied.

“I’ll be fucking miserable if I don’t.”

“Worst comes to worst you can always come hang out with us.”

Nai looked like someone stabbed him in the heart. He went to say something but shut his mouth, opting to toss his head back with his eyes closed. For once he decided to ignore the two of you instead of saying something hostile.

You felt like you were going crazy. You briefly looked at Nai’s cock. It was of average length, but definitely on the thicker side. It was framed by a patch of pale blonde pubic hair.

“Uh… Nai,” you said, trying to think of a reason to speak to him. “You okay after falling in the, uh, sand pit?”

“I’m fine.”

“That’s good…”

“Yeah,” he said. He opened his eyes and got out of the tub. Droplets of water traveled down his body, leaving a puddle on the floor. “Hand me a towel.”

“Say please at least,” Vash quipped, sinking deeper into the tub.

“It’s fine,” you laughed.

You grabbed a towel and tried to pass it off to Nai. The only problem was your hand refused to loosen its grip. Perhaps it was an unconscious effort to have an excuse to be so close to him. His impatience got the best of him and he pulled it away from you. He wrapped it around his waist and stomped away.

“Sorry about him,” Vash sighed.

“It’s fine,” you repeated.

“Why are you so far away? I don’t bite.” He sat back up. “Unless you want me to.”

“What?!”

“I’m kidding.”

You were incapable of speech.

“... Unless.”

Nothing but silence on your part.

He sighed. “You gotta gimme something to work with.”

You decided to give in, to embrace hedonism just once. “Okay. Sure.”

“Wait, really?”

“Yeah,” you said, pulling your pants off. “Fuck it.”

You took your shirt off and unhooked your bra letting it fall to your feet.

“Um. I didn't think you’d actually—” You took off your underwear. “—oh wow—I mean, shit. I’m ruining the moment,” he whined, holding his hand to his forehead like he had a headache.

You stepped into the tub and crawled on top of Vash, pressing your chest up against his. You were eternally thankful that the water was still warm. He ran his hands down your back, stopping at the small of it. Everything about the situation felt surreal. He was a stranger that you couldn’t get a full read on. Vash was friendly but still rather opaque, especially in regards to his brother. Anytime you asked about him Vash gave you bullshit answers that created more questions.

“Why doesn’t he ever eat?”

Vash nervously scratched the base of his skull. “He does! He, uh, eats bugs while he's out there.”

You knew damn well Nai wasn’t out in the desert, skulking around and eating bugs like a little creature.

But that didn’t matter. What mattered was how Vash’s lips felt brushing up against yours, how it felt when he held your bottom lip between his teeth. The world around you meant nothing. You were consumed by your lust, driven by your oppressive loneliness.

His kiss was hungry and needy. He kissed you like you could disappear at any moment. He held onto you tight, his fingers digging into your back. You cradled his face in your hands. His skin was so soft which was unusual. Most men that wandered the desert had leathery faces.

He broke the kiss, leaving a trail of them from your jaw bone down to your neck. You tangled your fingers in his damp blonde hair. He smelled like your soap with a strange musky, floral undercurrent.

You were feeling bold so you started stroking his semi-hard cock. He bit down on your neck, driving his teeth into your skin. You winced, but the pain was intoxicating. You gave his cock a squeeze before rubbing your thumb around his sensitive tip.

“You like that?” you purred.

“Uh-huh,” he said, planting a kiss on your chest.

He held one of your nipples between his teeth and began sucking on it. You kept stroking his cock which was now fully erect in your hand. The sensation of his tongue against your nipple felt incredible. All the moans you had been holding back sprung forth. You tried to lock your jaw shut as he went back to toying with your nipples, pinching one between his fingers and the other between his lips.

You squeezed the length of his cock again. This and your moaning seemed to inspire something in him. The most heavenly moans erupted out of him. Your touch was becoming too distracting for him to do anything except buck his hips against your fist.

“What are you doing to him?”

Nai had returned and he looked absolutely disgusted.

“I don’t know. I don’t know. I don’t know,” you chanted like a prayer.

“It’s fine,” Vash said nervously. “I wanted it.”

You jumped out of the tub and grabbed a towel as fast as you could. You pushed past Nai and sprinted to your bedroom, slamming the door behind you.

You paced around your room, trying to process what had happened and what the potential consequences would be. But it’s a fruitless task. You were too frazzled and still in the throes of arousal. You took a deep breath and dried your body off. As you crawled into bed you thought about how it felt when Vash buried his teeth in your neck. You ran your fingers down your folds, coating them with your fluids. You rubbed your clit, desperate to come. You covered your mouth to quiet your moans as your body writhed in pleasure. Once your body had calmed itself you drifted off to sleep.

The next morning you were startled awake by a series of knocks on your door. You stumbled out of bed and threw on a nightgown. You opened the door only to be greeted by Nai’s overwhelming presence.

“We need to talk.”

“We—we actually don't, which is the great thing.”

He stepped inside, shutting the door behind him. He was gradually invading your space, leaving almost no room between the two of you.

“Was that the first time you defiled my brother?”

“What?”

He grabbed you by the chin. “I said, was that the first time you de—”

“Yes!”

He gritted his teeth. “The last thing he needs is one you clinging to him.”

You were like an animal with its foot caught in a trap, too scared to do anything. He seemed so incensed. You didn’t know what he was capable of, how far his anger would go. He could kill you with his bare hands with ease, a fact that was equally terrifying and riveting.

“I’m sorry.”

He got closer to your face. “You’re sorry?”

“I shouldn’t…” You were at a loss for words. You weren’t sorry at all.

“Is that all you have to say for yourself?”

“What do you want me to say?!”

“That you will leave him alone.”

“You’re in my fucking house. How am I supposed to even—”

“Oh? I didn’t realize that gave you free reign to humiliate him. I heard the way you were making him sound last night.”

“If you’re that bothered, you can leave.”

“I’ve been trying to, but he won’t come with me. Because of you.”

“I—”

“Did you think I wanted to be here this entire time? Every second has been torture.”

“Then just go. Leave him behind if he wants to stay that bad.”

“I won’t let you take him away from me!”

Your hair was standing on end. A single drop of arousal made its way down your thigh. Nai seemed to take pride in frightening you. He stroked your jaw with his fingers before forcing them into mouth. You didn’t even bother fighting back. He pushed them in deeper, savoring the sound of you gagging. Tears welled up in your eyes and trickled down your cheeks.

He pulled them out and smirked. You looked so pathetic, so pliable. His eyes darkened and he leaned in to kiss you. For all his threatening demeanor, his kiss was timid and uncertain. You decided to take initiative and slipped your tongue into his mouth.

This seemed to anger him, or turn him on, you weren’t sure. He shoved you onto the bed, the force of his hands leaving an ache in their wake. He still needed your guidance though. You rolled your tongue up against his. His sloppiness was undeniable, but he was eager which was enough for you.

You reached down and grabbed his cock, cradling it in your palm. He broke the kiss and groaned. You gave it long, languid strokes. He rutted against your hand just like Vash had. The room was overflowing with his moans. You kissed his neck, pressing your lips against his soft skin.

“You sound so cute,” you cooed in between kisses.

He froze, muscles suspended in tension. You rubbed his back, hoping to quell whatever was torturing him.

“Are you alright?”

“Don’t touch me,” he said, pushing himself off of you. His cheeks were flushed and his cock was fighting against his pants. “Ju—just leave me alone.”

There was no hint of forcefulness in his voice, just dismay. And you were flooded with guilt.

That night, Vash sneaked into your room with a blanket wrapped around him. He dropped it, revealing he wasn’t wearing anything underneath. It hardly phased you. He got into your bed and snuggled up next to you. You tried your best to ignore his presence, but his arms were wrapped around you.

You were still caught up in what had happened earlier in the day between you and Nai. Having Vash so close put you on edge. He’d never given you any reason to fear him, but you wondered if a similar darkness resided in him. Maybe he was just better at hiding it. You couldn’t stop your thoughts, each one painting Vash in a more insidious light.

“Is everything okay? I feel like you were avoiding us.”

“I usually try to avoid your brother.”

“But why meeeee?” he asked.

You turned to face him. His eyes were wide and innocent, like a blue-eyed baby deer. His face turned you into putty. It wasn’t right to effectively punish him for his brother’s actions.

“I don’t have a good answer.”

He pouted. “You can be honest with me.”

“I barely know you,” you said, staring at his lips.

“That didn’t stop you from getting in the tub with me.”

That was a completely different situation under extremely different circumstances. Fucking someone was nowhere near as intimate or taxing as opening yourself up to them. That was like pulling teeth. You never talked to anyone about your feelings, granted you never had an opportunity to. Even in the presence of others, you compulsively closed yourself off. It was second nature.

You chewed on the inside of your cheek. It wasn’t that you didn’t want to feel close to him. You just didn’t know where to begin. You struggled to believe it would spill forth from you naturally once you started. You couldn’t even articulate the hopeless isolation you immersed yourself in.

He looked a little sad, an expression that tortured you to no end. You needed to show him that you wanted to be close to him. Being honest about your feelings was out of the question so you’d have to do it the only way you seemingly knew how.

You held his face in your hands and kissed him. Your passion was steeped in anguish. You hoped he felt your affinity for him, your desire to tell him everything eventually. Your desperation made you sloppy, drool dribbling from your mouth.

Vash pulled away. “Wait.”

He guided you onto your back and tossed your sheet to the side before getting on top of you. He helped you pull your nightgown up and over your head. He rubbed your cunt through your underwear, his fingers pressing against your clit.

“I wanna know what you taste like.”

Your body was practically vibrating. You gently pushed down on his shoulders, an act he was more than happy to comply with.

He positioned himself between your legs and peeled off your underwear. He kissed the inside of your thighs before biting them, sending his pointy teeth into your tender flesh. He used his tongue to spread apart your folds. He rolled it against your clit and waves of pleasure washed over you. Your breathing became increasingly more audible, each exhale sounding more and more like a moan.

“Tell me I’m good,” he growled.

“You’re such a good boy,” you whimpered.

He let out a pleased hum and arched his back, sending his ass into the air. He was relentless, focusing all of his attention on your aching clit. Both of you were incapable of being quiet.

The sound of the door being flung open swiftly annihilated the lusty haze you had been lost in. It was Nai. His eyes were half-lidded, sleep still clinging to them. He was half-dressed, his pants sloppily pulled on. They weren’t even buttoned.

“Why do you keep doing this to me?”

You tried to push Vash away, but kept eating your cunt, disregarding Nai’s presence. Your cheeks felt like they were on fire. You folded your arms across your chest, a hopeless attempt at shielding yourself from Nai’s gaze.

Vash stared up at you. “Call me a good boy again,” he demanded.

“Yo—you’re such a good boy,” you whimpered once more.

“I can’t believe you keep degrading yourself like this.”

Vash relaxed his back and began to drive his cock into the mattress. His neediness had you reeling. You covered your mouth, trying to hold back your moans. It was bad enough that Nai could see you like this; you didn’t need him hearing you as well.

Your stomach dropped as he approached the bed.

“I’ll help you shut up,” Nai growled.

He got on the bed and gave you a forceful kiss as you came. Once you had settled he pulled away and sat on the edge of your bed with his back towards you.

You tapped on Vash’s head. “Want me to suck your cock?”

“Yes,” he exhaled. “Please.”

Vash sat up only for Nai to grab him by the shoulders.

“I should do it.”

“What? Why?”

“I know your body better than anyone else. Better than she ever could,” he pleaded. Nai sounded so softhearted. You wondered if this was the tone of voice he used when you weren’t around. “Let me show you how much I love you.”

Vash sighed and ultimately agreed. He pushed Nai’s head down, guiding his brother’s mouth onto his erect cock. You watched in shock. You weren’t surprised in the least, but you never thought you’d see it. Your clit felt like it had a heartbeat.

You slipped two of your fingers into your slick cunt. The longer you watched them, the less you cared about the moral implications. You stopped letting your brain do the thinking. You gleefully watched as Vash laced his fingers through Nai’s hair, giving him better leverage as he forced his cock in deeper.

Every so often Nai would gag, but it didn’t deter him. If anything he seemed to enjoy it. He was furiously fucking his fist. You wished it was yours. You practically drooled at the thought. You kept fingering yourself, not taking your eyes off of him.

Vash bucked his hips against his brother’s face. He held his brother’s head close to his body. Nai struggled to keep it together, the sound of his gagging overtaking the room. You let out a dreamy sigh, grabbing Vash’s attention

“What?” you asked breathily.

“I need to fuck you,” he whined.

Vash pulled Nai off of his cock by his hair. His brother erupted into a series of violent coughs as he tried to compose himself. He had a bewildered look in his now dull eyes. You felt a little bad for him, but your pity melted away as Vash hoisted you onto his cock. He laid back, resting his head on your pillow.

You rolled your hips against his, sending his cock deeper inside. You couldn’t deny how good it felt.

“Na—Nai,” you stuttered. “Come here.”

Nai seemed to ignore you at first, but soon enough he was by your side, sitting on his knees.

“What do you want?”

“I want you to suck on my tits.”

He scoffed but still leaned in and started to suck. He swirled his tongue around your nipple. You rubbed the tip of his cock and started to stroke it.

“You’re lucky I’m letting something as inferior as you touch me,” Nai murmured before flicking his tongue against your nipple.

You tried to ignore him, but he continued.

“I still don’t see what he sees in you,” he hissed.

You squeezed his cock. “I bet you wish that was your brother’s hand, huh? Or maybe his mouth?”

Nai was briefly stunned, but recovered in record time. “It would be more satisfying than whatever it is you’re doing to me right now.”

“Your cock seems to like it,” you taunted. Precum had been leaking from his cocktip the entire time you were jerking him off.

“Can you pl—please stop? I’m trying to focus,” Vash whimpered.

“Tell her to behave herself then!”

Vash groaned. “Nai, just come here. You can use my mouth.”

Nai’s eyes lit up and he pulled his pants off. He crawled over to his brother and straddled his face. He started rutting against it. You missed your view of Vash’s angelic face. Nai’s muscled back while beautiful wasn’t nearly as interesting. You felt excluded.

Vash’s thrusts gradually grew uninspired. His focus seemed to be on his brother. You leaned forward and draped your arms over Nai’s shoulders.

“St—stop,” he sighed. “You’re ruining it.”

You ran your hands down his arms and snaked them around his waist. You stroked his abs before moving up to his chest. You pinched his nipple, relishing in the small yelp he let out.

“Am I humiliating you?”

Nai ignored you. You kept rubbing his nipples, taking in his pained whimpers.

“Aw, are you gonna come?”

“Yes,” he said in between his panting.

Nai’s body tensed up as he came in Vash’s mouth. He caught his breath and laid down beside his brother.

You slid Vash’s cock back inside you. He beckoned you near and you leaned forward. His body felt so warm underneath you. His chest was dappled with sweat. He held the back of your head and kissed you, passing Nai’s cum into your mouth. You swallowed it, savoring the sweet taste. Nai exhaled sharply, clearly offended. Neither of you paid him any mind.

Vash held onto your hips as you rode him. As he dug his fingers into your flesh your body was consumed by ecstasy. You felt like you were ascending to a higher plane of existence. You saw white and you could have sworn you were getting blessed by gods.

He continued to thrust until his cock released a deluge of cum inside your cunt. You loved how he sounded whining beneath you. You needed to hear him moan again and again. He couldn’t leave. You wouldn’t let him. You’d even put up with Nai’s hostility.

“That was amazing,” Vash said. There was nothing going behind his eyes; he was utterly fucked out.

You draped yourself on top of him, burying your face in his neck. “It really was.”

You felt around, trying to find Nai’s body next to you on the mattress. Before you even had the chance to touch him, he grabbed your wrist.

“Don’t.”

“Sorry,” you said somberly. “Uh… I had fun… with you.” You hated how hard it was to talk to Nai. Unless you were taunting him sexually you were at a loss for words.

“That’s nice,” he said softly. It lacked the venom he usually infused his words with.

For a while the only sound was the three of you breathing. The reality of what happened sinking into your pores. You didn’t know what to say and it seemed like the brothers were on the same page.

Nai was the one to break the silence. “We really have drifted apart… Haven’t we?”

“Don’t say stuff like that,” Vash mumbled.

“It’s true though.”

“Nai—”

“I was… hoping I would feel closer to you. But I don’t.” He got up and headed towards your door. “I don’t understand you at all.”

Vash gently rolled you off of him and he got up.

“Let’s go to bed.” He grabbed Nai’s pants off the floor. “You’ll feel better by tomorrow.” He rubbed the space between Nai’s shoulder blades and kissed the side of his head. “I’m sure of it.”

You could tell Vash was smiling when he said the last part. The brothers left, leaving you alone in your bed. You gathered your sheet and blanket and wrapped yourself up in them. You held yourself tight and hoped sleep would envelope you.

Instead you tossed and turned. You had been lying in bed for a few hours with your eyes shut and nothing more. Your thoughts wouldn’t stop racing; your actions were on loop in your head. Every moan, every touch, every overwhelming emotion weighed you down.

Vash calling out your name was enough to pull you out of this sleepless daze. You threw on a nightgown and rushed into the hall. Your eyes darted around, trying to figure out where he was. He called your name again. He was downstairs. You tore down the staircase and saw a very distressed Vash pulling his boots on.

“He’s gone. I gotta go after him.”

“He’s gone?”

“We fell asleep right by each other. I don’t know how I didn’t feel him getting up.”

He ran outside, yelling Nai’s name. You stumbled after him barefoot. The sand was unforgiving. Little, sharp rocks wedged themselves between your toes. You struggled to keep up. He was practically sprinting. There was no way you’d reach him.

“Fuck. He’s so fast. What the fuck,” you said in between wheezing. “Vash! Wait—”

Before you could even register it, your ankle gave out and sent you crashing into the sand.

“Shit,” you seethed, body writhing into a fetal position.

The pain was immense. You wanted to fight through it, to keep chasing after Vash. But you’d never catch up. He was as good as gone. Tears welled up in your eyes. You kicked yourself for getting so attached to them so fast. You hated that despite it all you still cared about Nai and wanted to win him over. You had let yourself get carried away by delusions. It wasn’t as if the three of you could live out your days in blissful harmony, no matter how badly you wanted it.

You stared up at the night sky. The moons loomed over you painting the desert in their ethereal light. You felt hopeless and dreaded having to drag yourself back home.

Luckily you heard Vash running back towards you.

“Are you alright?” he said, tripping as his foot got stuck in the sand.

“No… Are you alright?”

He popped up like he never fell in the first place. “Yeah.”

He walked over to you and squatted by your dejected form.

“Why are you crying?” he asked.

You looked up at him. His red rimmed eyes made them look intensely blue.

“I hurt my ankle.”

He held out his hand and hoisted you up.

“Let’s go home,” you said, grabbing onto his shoulder to steady yourself.

“I can’t. I have to find him. I… I promised I’d take care of him.”

“Maybe he went into town,” you suggested.

Vash’s face fell.

“All those people…” he muttered to himself. “I have to go after him, but I can take you back at least.”

He had you hop on his back for a piggyback ride. All you could do was whimper as your tears kept falling. You didn’t even bother speaking. Vash’s mind was elsewhere, unavailable to you. Once you reached home, he put you down and hugged you tightly.

“I’m sorry.”

“It’s fine,” you lied. “I’ll be alright.”

You turned away and walked into your house. You refused to watch him leave. It would’ve made everything feel a hundred times worse.

You awoke the next morning feeling hungover. You stretched your arms over your head and got up out of bed. You tried not to think about Vash and Nai, but everything reminded you of them. They had only been around for a short while, but they left their mark everywhere. When you opened your cupboard for coffee, you nearly started sobbing when you saw your last peach.

“Ugh. What’s wrong with me?” you wailed.

You boiled water for coffee and spread some preserves on a piece of cinnamon bread. It tasted ambrosial. At least one thing in your life remained sweet and unproblematic. Once your coffee was done, you poured yourself a cup and made your way to your front door. Sitting on your porch before the suns scorched the earth would do you some good.

As you went to open your door, you hit something on the other side of it.

“Oof.”

You would recognize that pained voice anywhere.

“Vash?”

He moved away from the front of your door and stood up. He looked exhausted.

“I didn’t… I didn’t think you’d come back.”

“Aw. I was hoping you’d think more highly of me.”

You laughed. “I take it you didn’t find him.”

He cast his gaze to the side, staring at the ground.

“Yeah. I even went to town. A group of drunks said they saw a ‘weird guy that looked just like me’ but that was all they said. I’m just glad no one was hurt.”

You wondered why he would be concerned about people getting hurt in regards to his brother, but you didn’t want to pry.

“How’s your ankle?”

“It’s sore, but I can walk on it. Serves me right for running around barefoot.”

He smiled and it warmed your soul. “Can I come in?”

“Yeah! I just made coffee. You should have some. You look like shit.”

He ran his fingers through his windblown hair. “I can’t look that bad.”

“You do. And you’re stinky.”

“What are you gonna do? Give me a bath?”

“I might.”

You led him inside and had him sit at your kitchen table. You poured him a cup of coffee and beamed while he took a sip and burned his tongue.

“You’re so mean to me,” he whined.

“What can I do to make it up to you?”

“Do you have any more of those peaches?”

“I have one left.”

He gazed at you, eyes sparkling. He was like a cheerful vampire glamoring you. You grabbed him a peach and handed it to him. He held it and looked down lovingly at it, like it was a newborn baby.

“How long will you be staying?” you asked, expecting him to give you a short time frame. One that would be wholly unsatisfying.

He looked up from his peach. “Indefinitely assuming you can keep giving me these.”

“I think I can manage that.”

#vash the stampede x reader #millions knives x reader #nai x reader #vash x reader #trigun smut #trigun x reader #vash the stampede smut #millions knives smut #.fics #.trigun #.vash #.knives #reader insert #x reader

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queensharotto · 5 months

Text

Brittle Doughie’s Cookie Run x Reader Masterlist (Part 2: The Jellywalkers AU)

A masterlist of @brittle-doughie’s Cookie Run stories organized by month.

Indents

Due to the lack of genres, the Indents will be the primary focus and are related to the featured cookies. If there are numerous cookies (Over 10 Cookies Featured), I’ll make a note on that as well. Also, this list illustrates exclusively include the term “Jelly Walker Horde”

August - September 2023 🌅🍂

• “Heart of the Horde”

Featuring: Dr. Wasabi Cookie and The Jelly Walker Horde

• “Protectors of the Horde’s Heart”

Featuring: Sea Fairy Cookie, Tiger Lily Cookie and Peach Cookie

• “Y/N Cookie being the Cure”

Featuring: Y/N Cookie

• “Affectionate Jellywalkers”

Featuring: Pink Choco Cookie, Blackberry Cookie, Cotton Candy Cookie, Knight Cookie, and Cherry Blossom Cookie

• “Death of the Heart”

Featuring: The Jelly Walker Horde, Princess Cookie, Rougefort Cookie, and Rambutan Cookie

• “The Show Off Jellywalkers”

Featuring: Fire Spirit Cookie, Cinnamon Cookie, Skating Queen Cookie and Cotton Candy Cookie

• “Recollection #1”

Featuring: White Ghost Cookie, Cream Unicorn Cookie and Vagabond Cookie

• “Terrified Cured Y/N Cookie”

Featuring: Y/N Cookie and The Jelly Walker Horde

• “Jellywalker Knight Cookie”

Featuring: Knight Cookie

• “The Dragons and the Jellywalker”

Featuring: The Five Dragons

• “If Jellywalker Y/N Cookie was Captured”

Featuring: Dr. Wasabi Cookie and The Jelly Walker Horde

• “Jellywalker Fire Spirit: The First Infected”

Featuring: Fire Spirit Cookie

• “Jellywalker Report #23: Discourse Among the Legendary Mob”

Featuring: The 4 Elemental Legendaries

October 2022 🎃

• “Jellywalker Report #13: Injury Assistance”

Featuring: Sea Fairy Cookie, Moonlight Cookie, Crowberry Cookie, Fig Cookie and Pumpkin Pie Cookie

• “Recollection #2”

Featuring: Financier Cookie, Vampire Cookie, and Dark Choco Cookie

• “Bosses and You!”

Featuring: Bosses

• “Wandering”

Featuring: Gingerbrave and Friends, Dr. Wasabi Cookie and The Jelly Walker Horde

• “The Starved Heart”

Featuring: The Jelly Walker Horde

• “Heart Amongst Legends”

Featuring: The 4 Elemental Legendaries

• “Thinking About The Brave Gang”

Featuring: Y/N Cookie, Gingerbrave and Friends, Cotton Candy Cookie and Fire Spirit Cookie

• “Finally Remembering the Brave Gang”

Featuring: Gingerbrave and Friends and The Jelly Walker Horde

• “Various Cookies as Jellywalkers”

Featuring: Caramel Arrow Cookie, Rye Cookie, The Cookies of Darkness, Raspberry Cookie and Wildberry Cookie

• “Various Cookies as Jellywalkers #2”

Featuring: Crunchy Chip Cookie, Eclair Cookie, The Council of Elders, The Ancient Cookies, Black Pearl Cookie and Frost Queen Cookie

• “Recollection #3 (Infected TBD)”

Featuring: The Time Balance Department

November 2022 - January 2023 🌾❄️

• “The News Gets to Them”

Featuring: Sorbet Shark Cookie, Lilac Cookie, and Black Garlic Cookie

• “The News Gets to Them #2”

Featuring: Lilybell Cookie, Poison Mushroom Cookie, Choco Ball Cookie

• “Wandering #2”

Featuring: Gingerbrave and Friends and The Jelly Walker Horde

• “Jellywalker Mandragora”

Featuring: Jellied Mandragora?

• “Gift Mode | Keeping Quiet | Little Ones | Wandering Part 3 (Jellywalker AU)”

Featuring: The Jelly Walker Horde

• “Physically Affectionate Jellywalkers”

Featuring: Tiger Lily Cookie, Peach Cookie, Cherry Blossom Cookie and Macaron Cookie

#brittle doughie masterlists #cookie run x you #cookie run x reader #cookie run ovenbreak #cookie run kingdom #yandere cookie run #jelly walkers x reader #cookie wars x reader #yandere cookie run kingdom

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kynimdraws · 5 months

Text

Top lane diff standoff TFW my obsession with an au pairing spills over to the main Runeterra hc-verse despite these characters not having actual interaction voicelines LOL

If you actually wanna read about this hc of Yone and K'sante meeting please read the TL;DR under the cut

The defeat of the Cobra-Lion and his meetup with Tope (in "Everything We Should Have Said") closed an important chapter in K'sante's life. Despite this, he still desires to further improve himself as Nazumah's greatest warrior-hunter. After all, he always is open for learning.

His brief conversations with nomadic tribes/merchants that pass through Nazumah and tales of the wandering Icathian weaponmaster (Jax) motivates him. With the blessing of the leaders of his homeland, he sets out on his journey.

He travels past the familiar sands/oases of the desert and the fringes of the remains of Icathia. This is how he meets other champion characters like Jax, Sivir, Akshan, and specifically Taliyah.

Taliyah tells about her mentor Yasuo, who had hailed from a distant land called Ionia. He had been fairly directionless with his travels, so this suggestion is taken to heart.

This journey to Ionia of course was very fruitful as he sees other lands and their cultures. He passes through the dense forests of Ixtal (Rengar), the technological marvels of Piltover/Zaun (Jayce, Camille), the wild streets of Bilgewater (Nilah)…and finally Ionia.

K'sante luckily is able to get audience with Sett by just boldly participating in his fighting pit just a few days after reaching Navori. The two strike a friendship after their fight ends in a tie (K'sante still thinks Sett is an immature boy but that's another conversation). After hearing K'sante's purpose of his trip, Sett suggests visiting the Ionian temples/monasteries, the centers of martial arts.

It is a given that through this entire trip, K'sante always stops to help anyone that is in trouble. His trek in Ionia doesn't change any of this, but he does notice that some of the things he is fighting are more…spiritual/ephemeral, a contrast to the more physical monsters/vagabonds he has known for so long. Due to the Shuriman Empire's history of rejecting spiritual beliefs, Nazumah was still slowly trying to regain that school of thought. K'sante cherishes this oppurtunity.

In one of the Ionian villages he stopped by, K'sante volunteers to help hunt down some demons. The chieftain of the village briefs him on what he can do, and remarks about how a mysterious masked man had been stalking around the area when these demons started appearing.

"We do not know much about this figure, but he has always appeared with the presence of the demons and azakana…it is possible he is the cause of it all. His masks may be summoning the malevolent spirits to make us suffer. Beware of lone man with many masks, stranger."

K'sante accepts this precaution well enough. After all, he was an experienced warrior. If needed, he will just fight and defeat this masked man. That night, he goes on patrol as he planned. Suddenly he senses another presence following him.

Turning around sharply, K'sante sees what he assumes is the supposed masked man that had control over demons. The man had a red mask with glowing eyes, and exuded a strange aura. Before K'sante can move, the mysterious figure runs his crimson sword through him. K'sante gasps and thinks he is dead, but feels no pain or sees blood....just coldness. He hears the masked man murmur something before withdrawing the sword. Soon a mask materializes from the masked man's hand.

"A small azakana, significantly weakend over time." the masked man simply speaks before he starts to walk away. Confused but wanting to know what the hell happened, K'sante grabs the masked man's arm, demanding what that was about.

"I simply am purging this land from azakana. Your spirit had actually mostly overcome the nightmare that had threatened to overwhelm you...but I thought it would be good to finish the job for you myself."

Hearing this, K'sante demands the masked man to teach his technique of hunting down this...supposed "azakana." The masked man tries to pull away saying this is a task only he can do, but K'sante is more stubborn and refuses to let go. Yone could have disassociated from the situation by having his spirit be unbound, but a part of him is intrigued by this stranger's strong will...a will that could weaken azakana without his help.

"I suppose I can teach you a few things. What is your name?"

"K'sante, a warrior-hunter of Nazumah."

"...Yone. Just Yone."

To be contd... here

#league of legends #artists on tumblr #k'sante #yone #not heartsteel verse LOL #kyleeart #yosante #k'yone #Hunter and the mask verse #Hunter and the Mask verse Story

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profoundbondfanfic · 8 months

Note

Heeeeey just wandering do you by any chance have like a western or cowboy au fic rec list??? If not that's okey but I mean I would appreciate

Hello and of course, here are a few we like!

Apple Pie Order by paceprompting [Explicit, 18k words]

Castiel Novak spends his life the same way, every day, as sheriff of a small town in the old west. Until, of course, a certain green-eyed criminal named Dean Winchester starts showing up in his life...over and over.

Church of the Country Wild by Amazonia_8 [Explicit, 52k words]

Sheriff Dean Winchester has been sent to Boston to collect the new preacher for his town of Lawrence. What he finds is a man nothing like what he expected and suddenly the long journey back to Kansas seems a lot more dangerous than he'd previously thought.

Hunter's Caress by Ltleflrt [Explicit, 161k words]

Castiel Jameson won't rest until the outlaw who murdered his brother faces justice, and Dean Winchester is the only man alive who can help him track the villain down. Some say Winchester is a cold-blooded killer himself; others say he'd been wronged his whole life. All Castiel knows is that the desire glinting in Dean's green eyes is even more dangerous than he is. Castiel fights to keep his mind on business, but during the long nights on the trail with the dangerously handsome hunter he finds himself dreaming of yielding to Dean's illicit kisses and losing himself in lawless passion. Dean Winchester is about to hang when Castiel saves his neck with his crazy plan. But dying might be better than spending day and night playing nursemaid to such an infuriating city slicker. He appreciates the stubborn detective's desire for justice, but he'd appreciate Cas a lot more if he'd stop being a lawman long enough to just be a man. He certainly has all the right equipment. Dean aches to run his fingers through Castiel's dark hair, yearns to know how Castiel's golden skin will feel against him. And before the coming of the next dawn, Dean vows to teach him the pleasures and sweet rewards of a Hunter's Caress.

ride, cowboy, ride by UniversalSatan [Explicit, 12k words]

There's a stranger in town, and Castiel has the sense there's something dangerous about him — yet he's drawn to the man like a magnet, unable to resist his enticement.

The Shawnee Trail by emmbrancsxx0 [Explicit, 166k words]

In 1887, Dean Winchester and Castiel Novak lead a peaceful life in Lawrence, Kansas. Dean and Sam are stagecoach messengers for Wells, Fargo and Castiel is the town doctor. When Castiel's patient, Kelly Kline, knocks on their door one night about to give birth, she asks for the Winchesters and Castiel's help in protecting her son against one of the west's most notorious outlaws. To fulfill that promise, the men set out on a journey full of shootouts, trouble with the law, gambling, and an important discovery: Dean and Castiel really need to define the nature of their relationship.

Vagabonds by chevrolangels [Explicit, 89k words]

Dean is a sheriff in a tiny town in Colorado, restless and unsatisfied with his life. It's not like what he's read about in the dime novels since he was little, capturing dangerous outlaws and being the last word of the law. More like tossing the town drunk in a cell to sober up when they get a little too rowdy. But Dean's chance comes when a thief rolls through their town. He pursues the thief, which puts him right into the path of Emmanuel, a notorious outlaw. When he is captured by the outlaw and his gang to be held for ransom, Dean starts off on a journey he could have never envisioned, and learns that perhaps there's more to Emmanuel than meets the eye.

Whisper My Name by PetraAmia [Explicit, 29k words]

Castiel was an alpha with a few secrets up his sleeve, and had distanced himself from his family in New York City. Castiel was better off in the West than he was in the City, and they weren’t wrong. When Castiel first roamed he made a name for himself in the trick pony shows of the time and finally settled down in a small town called Angel, Wyoming. Here, he gave into some of his Alpha instincts by taking care of the townsfolk as sheriff, but that wasn’t to say that he was not a dutiful son. Twice his family back home had sent him an Omega to keep the families honor and both times, the Omega in question had not survived the sometimes harsh climate his new home provided. When a letter came from his eldest brother Michael to alert him to yet a third Omega coming to meet him from New York, he expected nothing but more of the same. He was totally unprepared for the Omega who came with his favorite brother Gabriel, and the new pup he was to take into his life. However, the events of the town have kept them apart, his duties to the town came before his new mate, and their relationship suffers. Can they recover, and be what they were always meant to be, or will they continue to dance around each other until they wither?

Wicked Game by expectingtofly [Explcit, 104k words]

The year is 1889 and for the past year and a half, Dean has traveled alone from town to town, drinking to ignore his guilt and gambling to make a living. Today, he’s especially down on his luck. He’s broke, was just thrown out of a saloon for cheating at poker, and has now been woken by a blue-eyed man trying to rob him. When he learns that the thief, Castiel, is just as broke as he is, they strike a tenuous deal to help each other rob a stagecoach, share the spoils, and split up. Turns out splitting up is the most difficult task. While Castiel is cold and cruel, Dean refuses to back down from a fight. The two are at odds more often than not, but their relationship only grows more complicated the longer they travel together. They may have more in common than they thought.

There's also this fic we've reviewed a while ago with cowboy!Dean, though he lives on a farm and it's set in the 90s instead of the old wild west:

spirit of the west by teendean [Mature, 141k words]

Dean grew up on a horse farm and can’t imagine any other life. There are drawbacks to working for his father, but they’re worth it if it means remaining with his beloved horses. Besides, between his broken arm and his lack of prospects, he hasn’t got much else. Something of an outsider, Dean always feels like there’s something he’s missing. But this tense summer brings back a figure from his past: years ago, a teenaged Cas worked for a season at the Winchester ranch. His return could change everything. If you ever wanted a 90s horse girl book, but starring a young Dean Winchester, this is your fic.

you can also check our western tag for more.

#asks #group rec #western

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sharpedgedfool · 1 year

Note

Hello I was just wondering if we could get some more stuff and ideas about the sonadow future museum au (im just going to call it that cuz thats shorter)

heres a quick sketch cuz I really liked the designs👍

AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH YES YOU CAN AND IL OVE UR STYLE WITH IT???? I love how uncle-chuck-esc Sonic looks it's the exact vibe I wanted him to have 10/10

I'm in the process of writing this au as an actual story but I'm barely a chapter in yet, but I'll give some more snippets about Shadow and a page of sketches! (its a long read im so sorry but thank you for the ask!!)

Shadow goes by 'Oliver' as his fake name, he took it from a book he read once and liked the cover. They use He/They pronouns and identifies as something non-binary, he's not in a rush to label himself (they joke they've enough to label around the museum)

He lived as a vagabond until settling in Rainmeadow Town, and being taken in by the museum's solo-curator Beatrice, who's a field mouse with a physical disability and was unable to fully access the museum after she took it over from the previous owners.

Shadow adored museums as it was one of the only places he could visit freely so he has a soft spot, and Beatrice was so nice to him so he stayed to help restore it and got too attached he ended up settling down there. He was anxious at first, but its been five years and he's comfortable living there now

He lived with Beatrice for two years, before managing to earn enough from odd-jobs to buy out the small apartment above the local B&B

He has a stray cat he's taken in who wanders around town when he's at work. The cat is known to be vicious but is a sweetheart around Shadow, somewhat mimicking Shadows own demeaner

He dresses himself as unassuming as possible, and that sometimes makes himself a target for any outsiders of the village He gets tired out easily, due to them restricting their energy so much, but they can still fight viciously (almost feral after so many years outside of civilisation) for a short amount of time though would prefer to run. Shadow also needs rest throughout the day

Due to his tight inhibitor rings, Shadows red stripes and eyes have all dimed to a dull grey, his blood however remains a harsh green so he has to be diligent to ensure he doesn't injure himself in front of anyone. If he loosened his rings they would rapidly shift back to a red and he would regain energy to use his abilities, but he hides them and is extremely paranoid about his true identity

He likes to read and cook, and has a habit of reading while walking around even in the dark. He cooks meals for his cat and refuses to give them cat food from a can

He's a huge coffee fan, and loves brewing it himself with the manual machines at home (but also will still absolutely eat the beans straight if it's been a long day)

They haven't 'aged' but they've 'grown bigger' through mutation, their spines and fur are longer so they appear more mature even if internally he hasn't changed much.

He's always wanted a motorbike, but couldn't travel with one and can't afford the upkeep

Their glasses are generic reading glasses that he doesn't really need, but he finds it grounding to have them in his vision (he feels hidden behind them)

Rainmeadow is a known queer-safe town, despite it's remoteness, and the museum has a hall they regularly hold events in (Shadow is fond of the rollerskate hang-outs they schedule)

He has frequent panic attacks and extreme anxiety, they're selectively mute and uses sign (I use BSL when I'm drawing it out) and can't be around large groups of people for too long. He lets Beatrice work at the front of the museum and he lurks around in the back, people jokingly call him a 'shadow' often (and he's gotten used to the fear that shoots down his spine at the mention of his name)

No one knows of his origins, though Beatrice knows some of his vagabond experiences and topics that makes him uneasy

Shadow has met Rouge a handful of times. When he was saving money, he was contacted by her due to his experience in the museum. Due to his lack of background information, she assumed he had been involved in criminal activity and needed his knowledge on artefacts and assistance in restoring something. Shadow agreed reluctantly, but despite his uncertainty he enjoyed working on the things she brought and Rouge found his genuine interest in history and lack of concern for her intentions to be good company. Shadow became her main contact for these things (though she rarely needs his help) and the two are on good terms despite not being close

Rouge has worked with Team Sonic on occasion, and never worked with GUN. She's infamous but her identity is unknown to the public, except her name on her calling card. A few of Sonic's gang know what she looks like as eventually after knowing them for so long she doesn't wear the spy gear around them all the time, but felt strangely comfortable around Shadow rather quickly so he's seen her face

#I wrote so much nonsense im sorry this is a long read #it'll read better as an actual fanfic i swear i'll get round to it fdhgfd #shadow the hedgehog #museum au

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tea-moon-ster · 6 months

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Hello! Welcome to the fourth part of the Fantasy Magic Au (that still doesn't have a proper name!)

I think it's time for some québécois sprinkles. So, enter Logan.

Characters credits to @lumosinlove, prompt and hosting credits to @noots-fic-fests. read it on ao3 here.

It was a dark and stormy night.

Except that it was noon. And it was only raining slightly. Leo just read too many books.

But it was still a rainy day, with a strong wind coming from west that brought black clouds onto the Lion Shire. The forest waved and danced in the distance, a black and moaning mountain that did nothing to calm Leo’s nerves.

He had no idea where Roux was. He just knew that he was outside, and that an actual storm was coming that night. Roux never spent too much time outside with rain, and always made a point to come back during his longest wanderings, as if to tell Leo, see, I’m fine, don’t worry.

But Roux wasn’t coming back. And Leo didn’t know what to do.

That day, the cottage had been stormy even before the rain arrived. Leo woke up already tired, on the verge of tears for how little he’d slept that night. And Roux had been restless. For the weather or the birds outside or his own frustrations, growing with each day, Leo didn’t know. Then Leo had tried and failed another potion for Roux, with seaweed in it. Needless to say, it had been a fiasco and Roux had started hissing at it, before running outside and not coming back for hours.

Now.

Leo knew seaweed couldn’t taste good. And he knew that each fail made their cause feel more hopeless, useless, and pointless. It mustn’t have been easy for Roux to keep up with all the recipes, spells and incense baths Leo had put him through -or to trust Leo, still. Even more, the witch could see how disgruntled Roux would turn every time he caught himself behaving more and more like a cat. Truth was, he’d been in that body for months, and he was forgetting how to be anything else. That scared him more than all the failed attempts Leo threw on him.

Still, it had been hours. And he wasn’t coming back.

Leo tried to give him his own space, letting him have his well-owed existential crisis. Then he panicked and, with the excuse to go put a few protection spells on the oldest trees of the forest against the upcoming storm, he looked around for the cat. But nothing. He only gave up when the darkness became too engulfing even for his magic lantern and made his way back to the cottage. He felt silly for thinking that he would’ve found Roux waiting for him on their armchair.

Hours later, the storm was in full force, and Leo a nervous mess. He busied himself with potions, cleaning, cooking soups. He jumped at every small noise against the windows, already picturing a wet, red mass of fur and two big eyes looking up at him just like all those months ago. The memory made the weight on his chest even heavier.

Leo almost dropped the spoon in his hand when he heard knocking on his door.

He didn’t have the time to consider himself silly for thinking it could be Roux -cats don’t knock- as he reached the door in a few, long strides. But it could be a villager who’d found him or needed help. There could be damage caused by the storm, or the forest could be in danger. Instead, he found a man under a dark cloak -a traveler, then- trying to fit under his entrance and repair himself from the heavy rain.

“Yes?”

The stranger nodded from under the soaked cloak and, despite the storm, revealed his face to Leo. The witch didn’t say a word- he certainly didn’t expect to have his breath taken away by a pair of deep, green eyes. The vagabond squinted against the rain.

“Hello, I’m Logan.”

In the distance, a thunder rumbled, and Logan flinched.

“I’m looking for my friend.”

Leo tried not to stare too hard at the stranger in his living room. He was now engulfed in a warm towel, staring at the fire in front of him -or the soup heating on top, Leo couldn’t tell. The brown hair was curling more and more as it dried, and his cheeks were less pale, but he still flinched at every thunder.

When the soup was ready, Logan nodded a quick merci, and ate quickly. “Thank you,” he repeated once his bowl was empty. “Haven’t had a proper meal in days.” Leo filled it again, of course.

Logan emptied the bowl in silence, and Leo studied him as he looked around the room. The décor gave him away: a few cauldrons were stacked in a corner, and his pointy hat was hanged next to the window. Piles of books on the table, maps of the stars and the planets on the walls. The witch shifted on his chair. In this land, witchcraft was widely accepted -protected, even- but he knew that in foreign countries it was a controversial topic. That’s why he was so far from home. But the traveler didn’t seem bothered.

A tentative, kind smile made Leo relax in his chair. Logan was clearly exhausted, but the way he carried himself, the hesitant politeness, the endless nods at every scoop to let Leo know the soup was good, did more to the witch’s nerves than all the remedies he’d tried that day. Logan cleared his throat as he put the bowl down.

“I know the rules of hospitality say to take care of a stranger before asking any questions, but thanks anyway. Haven’t found this kindness in many miles.”

“You must be coming from the Slytherin kingdom, then,” Leo guessed, and Logan nodded. He didn’t look happy about it, but no one ever did. Leo had been at the border a few times, accompanying Kasey during his apprenticeship. It was a strange, cold land. And extremely dangerous, many said. Especially Kasey. He didn’t want Leo to go there on his own.

“Ouais,” Logan continued. “I’ve been travelling for two months now. I come from Krios Kepék, and I’ve crossed the lands of Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw and Slytherin. We’re still in Hogwarts now, yes?”

Leo nodded. “That’s a long way you’ve come.” He didn’t mean to push, but wanderers were rare, and Leo had never hosted one. Even if the rules stated that Logan now owed him his story, Leo could see how tired and worn out he was.

I’m looking for my friend.

“Yes,” Logan nodded again, looking down at the carpet. He traced the pattern with a socked foot. “Someone very important to me disappeared six months ago, and I still haven’t found any trace of him.”

“I’m sorry.”

The traveler shrugged. He took his time before continuing. “His name is Finn. He comes from my village, and we’ve been friends since I can remember. He’s in every memory I have, somehow, somewhere. He owns this bookshop with his brother, he loves books. They both do. His brother disappeared a year ago, and Finn was warned, because…well, we don’t exactly know what happened, but it’s said that dark magic was involved. That he upset someone. But Finn didn’t listen- of course he didn’t.” A frown was bothering his face now, green eyes fixed on the dancing flames.

“Was his brother a witch?” Leo asked softly.

“Is,” Logan corrected sharply. Leo bit his lip. Then Logan sighed, shaking his head. “No, no magic in their family. But he’s a writer, and he was doing research about witchcraft when he disappeared. Against the stigma, he said. But he did…he did see a witch, quite regularly. A native, who either visited or hosted him. But they were friends, worked together. No one would curse Alex if they knew him. And same goes for Finn.”

“Finn was trying to find his brother when he disappeared. Some—” he blinked rapidly, glancing down at his hands, “Some say he came too close to the truth. But no one would look too deep into it, not after two villagers vanished in so little time.” The traveler leaned towards the fire. Leo did that too, sometimes. When nothing would warm him, or heat was the only thing he was able to feel. “My…my family, our friends, they all told me to keep my head down. To keep working, worry in silence, stay safe. But after four months, I couldn’t take it anymore.”

A loud thunder, closer than the others, made Logan jump in his chair. Leo watched him close his eyes and inhale deeply. When green eyes slowly opened again, they were more tired than before. Leo didn’t have to look too deep to see the heartbreak in them. The fear, the sorrow. He wondered under how many storms had Logan walked, looking for his friend.

“There’s a guest room you can use for the night,” Leo murmured. And for the next, and the one after tomorrow. “I’ll get it ready for you. You really need some rest.”

Logan gave him another one of his polite nods, but before Leo could get up from his chair, a loud rumble made the windows tremble, and a firm grip stopped him by the wrist. The thunder echoed in the valley after a flash of white light. Logan was now breathing harshly, eyes shut in a deep frown and crouched on his seat, as if to make himself smaller against the storm. Leo immediately sat back down, taking both hands in his, and waiting for the boy to relax. When Logan did, his eyes were rimmed. From exhaustion, for his friend, the storm or being so far from home, Leo could only guess. He passed a reassuring thumb oh the back of a big, calloused hand.

“How about you help me fix the bed?” he asked softly. “And then we drink something hot to relax a bit.”

Logan looked up at him for a second before nodding. He got up with a deep breath, one last glance at the fire. He didn’t look like he would let go of Leo’s hand any time soon.

“Hot chocolate?” he asked hopefully.

Leo laughed quietly. “I have no cocoa in here, I’m sorry. But I have just the thing for you. No poison, I swear.”

Logan laughed too, and Leo decided to take it as his victory for the day. “D’accord. Lead the way.”

Outside the safe warmness of the cottage, the storm was still in full force.

Roux was still not home, and Logan’s friend was still lost.

But, as two pairs of hands flattened the blankets in the low candlelight, it was easier to think that even the darkest, rainiest days would pass.

#fic o ween 2023 #fic fest #lou's writing #o'knutzy #lumosinlove #sweater weather lumosinlove #fic o ween #fic-o-ween

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rebuilding-paradise · 1 year

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[Dragon au: lost heir]

In a village far from the newly risen palace, a festival was going on happily. There was one cookie happily singing and dancing... No one really knew where he came from. Only that they found him scared and afraid as a child. They named him Vagabond, after the spirits who wander endlessly.

"Ohhh, this'll be a great festival!"

@m00r3-starzz

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fred-leforgeur-baudelaire · 8 months

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“Les premières lueurs matinales de l'automne apparaissent et les ombres renaissent. Les cafés débordent encore de vies en quête de romance ou de chimères passagères. Mon esprit, en proie au doute, vagabonde dans ces rues étroites si familières, où se cachent des amours particulières pour s'enivrer de sensualité. Je contemple chaque visage féminin avec l'infime espoir que mon regard croise le tien. Parce que malgré mes incertitudes, je te reconnaîtrai et ferai de toi mon intime conviction.„

~•~

“The first morning light of autumn appears and shadows are reborn. The cafés are still overflowing with lives in search of romance or passing fancies. My mind, plagued by doubt, wanders these familiar narrow streets, where particular loves hide to intoxicate themselves with sensuality. I contemplate each woman's face with the infinitesimal hope that my eyes will meet yours. Because despite my uncertainties, i'll recognize you and make you my personal conviction.„

~•~

— Fred Leforgeur-Baudelaire

Fine art photo & graphic design : Martin Dobeš

"When Black meets White"

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kiwibirb1 · 27 days

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Yall. Yall. WANDERING VAGABOND HAS GONE PAST 500 HITS AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH

I think thats more than all my other fics combined? Even with HDM having like 200. im going crazy this cant be real

#ao3 #writing #wandering vagabond au

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batwingsandblackcats · 5 months

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Once & Formerly Haunted: tunes for a bookshop au

Though y'all would maybe be interested in some tunes curated by @sageobo31 and I for our lil bookshop story. We hope ya like it!

Tracklist:

P. I | summer left us beckoning (walk that empty northern hemisphere wide)

01. Imogen arrives on Wildemount | The Amber Road - Critical Role, Omar Fadel 02. Tri-Spires from a distance | Approaching Zadash - Hunter Rogerson 03. the first chill | October - Eric Whitacre, North Texas Wind Symphony 04. wandering Zadash | This Empty Northern Hemisphere - Gregory Alan Isakov Smoke it flies from whisky mouths / Vagabonds walk this suitcase town / Summer left us beckoning / The cottonwoods are all worn out / Night comes fixing on the day / And the universe reigned again / While the wheels roll it all glows a flickering light

P. II | once & formerly haunted

Ch. 1: copper kettle confessions

05. too many people, too many thoughts | Halling efter Per Loof - Frida Johansson, Henrik Oja 06. Once & Formerly Haunted | The Old Favourite - The Gloaming 07. a cup of tea | Tea with the Pansophical - Critical Role, Sterling Maffe

Ch. 2: pastries for a friend

08. wandering thoughts | Dreaming of Relief - Chris and Thomas I hope what you find will calm your mind / I hope you will always find the time you need 09. "Someone expectin' ya?" | Solace - Tow're 10. a new friend | The Hare - The Gloaming

Ch. 3: darling it's cold outside

11. Laudna’s home | Heads of the Valleys Road - Jess Morgan

Ch. 4: to keep you warm

12. shopping in Zadash | Finch In The Pantry - The Arcadian Wild 13. a proposal | The Forest of Frost on The Windshield - Matt Pond PA

Ch. 5: a new home

14. settling in | Roots - The Arcadian Wild Throw me all the seeds you sow / I'll take 'em in and make them grow in your light / Just give it time / So put down your roots / And I'll plant this fallow field of mine with you 15. nightmares | After a Storm - Western Skies Motel

Ch. 6: scars and stories

16. peppers and eggs | In The Kitchen - Hawktail

Ch. 7: cider, shots, and bad decisions

17. stories from Gelvaan | The Universe - Gregory Alan Isakov The universe, she's wounded / She's got bruises on her feet / I sit down like I always did / And tried to calm her down / I send her my warmth and my silence / And all she sends me back is rain, rain / The universe, she's wounded / She's still got infinity ahead of her

Ch. 8: a faire companion

18. Laudna's melody | Bell's Harmonic - Alan Gogoll 19. the hazel festival | The Old Road to Garry - The Gloaming

to be continued...

#TIBSAU #The Imodna Bookshop AU #Imodna #Playlists #playlist #critical role #critical role fanfic

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ertrunkenerwassergeist · 4 months

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In Dreams au, what did Ignis' uncle think about Noctis, both before and after he went missing? Because if he is the Chief of Staff at the Citadel then he was the guy that Cor dragged along to suppress the rumours about Noctis being a bastard.

Cinis didn't have very high opinions about Noctis before he vanished, and while he was gone, they were even lower.

From his perspective Noctis just isn't powerful enough to sit on the throne of Lucis. No magical power to speak of. Noctis also actively avoids people and makes no moves to accumlate personal power among the nobles.

Not a good politician. Not a good leader.

But he will be King. Because only the Lucis Caelums can be Kings. So it is a high honour for his family that little Ignis was chosen to be a companion to the prince. With a weak King to be on the throne, if a Scientia belonged to his inner circle, it meant all the more power for them.

He knew Aulea well enough however not to believe a word about the rumours. And he also knows Regis well enough to know that even if they had been true, he would have claimed Noctis as his own anyway. The child passed his Introduction to the Crystal anyway. So that point is moot.

Now, after Noctis shows back up?

His opinion changes entirely. Because while Noctis, at first glance, might look like a wandering vagabond, Cinis has known both Mors and Regis. He can recognise power. And this older Noctis has it.

This older Noctis is confident, settled in his skin in a way the younger never was. There's an aura about him that demands respect and attention. From how he holds himself, he also must have learned how to give orders and have them followed. At least to an extend.

When Cinis first meets Noctis again, he doesn't know the prince is magically powerful. But he sees little Astra making sparkly hands to entertain himself (Ardyn showed him that and Noctis isn't exactly happy about it, but it keeps his son occupied, so he's not complaining) and knows at least he managed to father a powerful child.

#ask #raven-6-10 #ffxv #dreams of our past #healer!noctis #white mage!noctis #cinis scientia #noctis lucis caelum #noctis is very powerful #but he kept his magic mostly hidden during his childhood #out of fear #it played heavily into his lack of confidence #as did his lack of martial prowess #now though he's come into himself #(is that how you say that?)#we got hiemi to thank for that #geist answers

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someillplanetreigns · 1 year

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I know this might be a bit of a difficult one, but top 5 Loki-centric fanfic you've read? (I hope your day gets better!)

Oh this is hard!!! I've interpreted Loki-centric loosely - the last two are actually from Thor's pov, because I get so much joy out of fics in which Thor's understanding of Loki evolves or is emphasised. In no particular order:

1. Sanguine by @violetvapours (Loki/Sigyn, deliciously dark mutual saviours to lovers with blood magic. Also hugely recommend her other works, V is a great talent)

2. Hel Is Being Other People by @nildespirandum (Loki/OC, a wonderfully witty story of the mercurial god of mischief trapped in the body of a very mundane office worker. Read this then the whole series then all of Nil's works, she's amazing)

3. These Vagabond Shoes by @veliseraptor (Loki & Thor epistolary heart-squeeze. Loki goes wandering across Midgard and sends Thor postcards processing a lot of stuff)

4. But Tell It Slant by @scioscribe (hope this is the right url?) (Loki & Thor confronted by Thanos AU, the way I wish Infinity War had actually gone)

5. one last breath of hope by @thelightofthingshopedfor (again hope url is right?) (Loki & Thor; Loki steps through a portal in the final Endgame battle)

Thank you for the ask!

#loki #loki fic rec #fics by friends #ask #top 5 meme #i'm sure i missed loads but these were the 5 that came to me #hope this works - i made it on my phone #thank you!

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sygneth · 10 months

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At the risk of my my feels getting their shit rocked, who else is still alive in the Postapo Disco Inferno AU? Any side stories? Other people living around there? Or nah? (Still loving all your art by the way. <3 )

Another question that took me a moment, because. Hm. I can't even say I never thought about this, but every time I do, I come up with different conclusions lol

So to sum this up somehow, I think that there must have been some other survivors for sure. Martinaise is not a representative part of the city anymore, so I think they were not on the main line of fire, so people there could be relatively safe, I suppose? Or at least had a chance to try and run away.

I am torn between "there were actually some survivors but they moved out and those three (four with Dolores) just couldn't get themselves to leave Revachol" and "almost nobody except them survived (they were just extremally lucky), all the Isola is thrashed and they have nowhere to go plus they love the city too much to just leave her". The latter would be a much sadder scenario, but probably, as a post-apocalyptic setting, making more sense, so I'm kind of leaning toward it? Because if everything is in pieces and there is no other place to be and no other thing to do, it's completely justified for them to just wander across the ruins of the city and try to survive and make as much of what they have, as they can. But huh who knows maybe they will suddenly bump into a group of other vagabonds that will happen to be old friends, I really don't know. Worldbuilding in this AU is poor and I'm not even trying lmao but if something more pops into my head I'll tell. (And I'm really glad to hear that you like my art <3 tysm!)

#asks #markala5 #postapo disco inferno #seriously why did i even name this au like that #man i suck at names #disco elysium #disco elysium au

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joz-yyh · 2 months

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Acta Est Fabula - Ch. 3

SUMMARY: Crimson Court AU. The boys launch their attack on the Baron, but no celebration is complete without a kiss. No Beta. Read at your own risk.

PAIRING: Bounty Hunter x Flagellant

RATING: M (just to be safe because it will get spicy later)

WORD COUNT: 2,405

READ ON Ao3: -> HERE!!

A/N: Check out the art I drew for this chapter -> Here 🎉 😚 🎉 (Man, is it hard for me to go in chronological order, but we're trying. Nevermind that I already outlined the smut and just want to dive straight into that. OTL)

——————————————————————————————————————————————————————————————————

Engorged ruby eggs mark this territory, as do the perpetual swarms of flies, their presence humming about dirty meal trays and empty bottles of vintage crates.

As the flagellant steps past the threshold of overgrown brush, he can hear the clink of glasses, the lull of small talk and laughter, a festive atmosphere made whole by the scores of renaissance melodies.

Engorged ruby eggs mark this territory, as do the perpetual swarms of flies, their presence humming about dirty meal trays and empty bottles of vintage crates.

The whimsical musical stylings end on a jarring score, the cadence of one waterlogged loafer touching down on the tiled floor, the other guests keeping their distance, repelled by his scraggy appearance. Painted heads turn, the liveliness now a flatline of silence, gasping in contempt of their unwelcome guest.

“Oh my,” one of the courtesans exclaims, “Look at what the croc dragged in!”

“Where have you been hiding these days, darling,” the baron's mistress chimes in, waving a fan against her powdered nose.

Another of her debutante floozies quickly finishes the thought, “In the dirt by the look of it!”

A reel of laughter erupts from around the room, the crowd all too eager to partake in his humiliation.

“Thought you knew better than to come here again,” the baron snubs, much more vitriolic in his participation, “must you punish us with your miserable existence?”

The branded vagabond was used to being patronized and despite their fervent attempts to oust him, the flagellant's confidence does not waver, nor does his smirk.

"I am not here for favor or for mercy,” Damian speaks, putting an end to their humor, if only momentarily. “I come bearing a gift, an opportunity to repent. Pledge yourself to the Light, let it save what remains of your souls."

The aristocrats can do nothing but laugh at his outrageous request, the wandering zealot a broken record, this religious stunt of his not an uncommon sight.

"Baron,” his finely dressed mistress remarks, a polished hand tucking behind his collar, “did you order a fool and forget to tell us?"

“Ha! Yes, a traveling clown indeed,” the shifty man concurs, a laugh slipping past his tall incisors, “run along now lad, take your traveling circus elsewhere.”

“I pray you've made peace with death,” Damian portends, a grim finality, “you will meet her today.”

An encore of boisterous laughter is made, paid at his expense.

“Ha! What a riot!”

“Can you believe it? The resident lunatic is trying to pick a fight!”

“How many times can one man lose their mind!”

Wine swirls about the baron’s glass, incited by the guffaws. “Little old you, taking on all of us? We’d suck you dry before you could even come close.”

“Maybe you'd be right,” the flagellant says, fangs framing his smile, “if I was alone.”

“Oh? Pray tell, where is this mystery date of yours,” hucks the smarmy liege, seeing none beside him, awaiting their grand entrance, “Are they invisible or just imaginary?”

“My dear Baron,” Damian bows, perfectly serene in his manners, “I believe you've already met.”

“What are you–,”

The esteemed aristocrat is still ignorant, hardly aware of what’s happened to him, a fine line of red stretching across his face, bisected blood swimming in his vision before it slides off, a clean cut of gore, his eyes looking upon his own decapitated corpse.

The man's dismembered head rolls about the regal bows and buckles of pointed shoes, the rest of his bulbous body twitching before joining its missing piece, a limp mass of wet squelch.

There would be no egg sacks for the wealthy lord to cower in, no third act, just the cold curtain of his final death.

The female courtesans scream for the tragic passing of their lord, their gentleman counterparts offering them comfort, passing around their own audible intakes of shock.

The esquires waste no time shedding their prim and proper visage, looking for the unseen threat, clamoring together in a pack with pompadours and pistols abound.

“Where are you?!”

“Show yourself, pathetic quim!

“Unsavory cur!”

“I am right here, you degenerate suckheads,” Tardif taunts, standing up from his crouch, liquid crimson dripping from his kusarigama.

“Hunter,” the insects hiss in unison, “That traitorous bastard brought a hunter!”

“Templar scum!”

“Dog of the order!”

“Ye spineless toads gunna keep tellin’ me how pretty I am,” Tardif spits, annoyed more than anything, “or ye gunna shut up and fight?”

The insects step up to the challenge, firing their shots, but the hunter merely deflects each one, making no effort to retaliate, standing there in goading proposition.

“The hunter is as mad as he is!”

“Yes, a perfect pair, crazy and crazier.”

“Kill them both!”

Too busy hurling insults, the three bloodsuckers fail to notice the maw of teeth stampeding across the floor, Sebastian scooping each insect into its mouth, one piled into the other before champing down, a spike trap of impalement.

“Oh, too bad,” Tardif whinges, listening to their posh screams, a kabob of entitled brats severed with gushes of carnage, “anyone else?”

He surveys what remains of the guests, a flurry of hoop skirts and tailcoats running for dear life while the croc picks them off, tossing them into the swamp, a buffet for his other reptilian brethren to partake.

“Can't let you have all the fun, Sebastian,” Tardif cries, diving right in with the crowd, hacking through whoever comes close, guarding the croc’s back.

The creature growls, polishing off what fleeing bloodsuckers it can, the two a dynamic duo of havoc and despair.

“Shouldn't you be running, mademoiselle,” Damian taunts, hands behind his back as confronts the baron's mistress, one of the few guests that remain alive.

“Little worm,” the woman hisses, betwixt grief and hatred as she huddles around her dearly departed, “do you know what you've done?! The court will hear of this, mark my words. You're as good as dead.”

“Yes, your ladyship, but in the meantime I hope to bring an unfortunate demise unto you.”

She snarls at the estranged vampire's uncouth behavior, his insufferably cavalier expression, rising up to meet him, “Always knew you were a bit off. The Baroness was too kind letting you live.”

“I never did like you either, lady Beatrice,” the flagellant snips, the two staring each other down, “your pies always tasted as rancid as your heart.”

Her rouge-round cheeks fume, growling in offense, sending a slew of half-pint servants after him in swift riposte. “Kill him! Avenge the baron!”

The blonde vampire barely lifts a hand, his claws slashing the castellans to pieces as if they were delicate lace petticoats, the floor filled with dregs of hairy legs and chops of sirloin.

Beatrice reels in alarm, her entourage of minions hacked to mince so easily, “There’s something different about you! What is it?! Tell me!”

“I simply did what you all do so well,” Damian says, eyes swimming in a sea of black, “I drank my fill of blood.”

A sanguine transformation consumes him, an evolution of four long wings that burst from his back, claws growing lengthy, sharp, nose and mandibles to match their lethal intent.

With a speed Beatrice doesn't expect, he flies forward, tearing into her neck, ripping cursed viscera from stringy tethers of flesh.

He can barely stand the taste, spits the foul tasting thing out, tossing her severed head in the direction of the baron's corpse, the two lovers reunited in a fitting grave.

Tardif catches the tail end of the battle between the two antagonistic vampires, watches on as the flagellant tears through the competition with such violent fury that it awakens something within him. He’s never known his side of Damian, but he wants to, his brutality so different than his usual carefree demeanor, awe causing him to marvel at the scene a bit too long.

“Ye still alive over there,” the hunter asks from the other side of the floor, humor in his voice as he regards the croc.

Sebastian growls, his jaws dripping with his most recent kill, the emerald beast’s stomach much too full.

“Think we got 'em all. How 'bout it Pierre? We miss anyone?”

The creature scans around the venue, the flickering blue of dying heat signatures conveying no more signs of unlife.

“Good,” Tardif says, sheathing his weapon, “Sebastian, keep an eye out. Yer on guard duty.”

Coast clear, he stalks toward Damian, stepping over a macabre path of littered corpses until he reaches his partner's side.

The vampire seems to be stuck in trance, caught in disbelief of what they’ve done, a potent cocktail of adrenaline and bloodlust eating away at his dwindling humanity.

Tardif wouldn’t describe himself as the soft, tender type, but he finds he wants to be now, for him.

“Hey,” the brute calls, gripping the grotesque angles of Damian’s face, “ye can relax. It's over now.”

The vampire finally moves, clings to the arms that clings to him, squeezing at it tightly, unable to decide if he wants to keep the human near or drive him away.

“You musn’t be so close to me,” Damian warns, his carnal urges unpredictable, “not now, not like this.”

“Teh, ye look pretty harmless to me,” the brash barbarian smirks, falling under his own trance.

Gloves smear away the flecks of red left upon a pale visage, pushing back stray blonde curls from the shining abyss of his eyes.

Maybe they were both crazy for doing this, the heap of dead bloodsuckers had accused them as much, but who knew what fate would come for them next, if they would still be standing together by the end.

Only one thing is certain in Tardif’s mind and regardless of the blood, the fangs, the danger, he is overcome, having never seen something so morbidly beautiful in all his life.

It comes as a shock, especially after the rush of battle to feel the press of something soft against his cheek, just above the protrusion of his mandibles. It’s a strange sort of feeling, remembering affection like this, having suffered so long without it, but once he realizes what the huntsman is doing, what it means, Damian fends him off.

The flagellant's voice is warbled by his metamorphosis, more taken aback by the clash of their opposing species than the action itself. “How … how could you do something that … that stupid?”

Tardif seems equally at a loss, having no answer to give, only sensation, fire burning from within.

"I am not even a man anymore,” the vampire continues, trying to make sense of the other’s recklessness, “Do you not despise me?"

"I uh … sorry," Tardif mumbles, unable to supply anything else, caught in a loop, reliving their first kiss.

"You could have been turned," the flagellant chastises, anger unable to convey properly upon his compound eyes, "Then what would you have done?"

"Not every bite can inflict the curse," Tardif replies, the ingrained knowledge cutting through the haze, "and we stick to the plan. We slay them all. Same as before."

"You're not afraid of inheriting the curse," Damian asks, probing and confounded by this stubborn enigma of a man.

"I fear nothing," Tardif says, the potent note of overconfidence obvious even to his own ears.

"You'll be hunted just like me," the flagellant continues, mourning the thought, "Ostracized. Persecuted. You won't be able to return home again. Doesn’t that bother you?"

"I like a challenge,” Tardif smirks, shrugging as he contemplates the rest, “Not much of a life. Was picked up by the order when I was a kid, but I never trusted them or anything they said. Always wanted to go off on my own. What better time than now?”

"The thing I want to retrieve most, you are so willing to give it up," the vampire gasps, grabbing at his companion’s cowl.

It’s impulsive, risky, Damian hardly having any lips left to kiss, but it doesn’t stop him from trying.

Despite their physical differences, it's heated, heavy, passionate, the vampire’s long tongue coming to lick against sweet decadence, connecting corrupted canines with frail human lips.

The hybrid can feel himself slipping, unsure of how long he can subdue the thirst, tempted by the urge to bite down, drink into him.

"How do ye feel," Tardif asks, panting, flushed with the sticky heat of dried blood upon his brow.

"Vile," Damian spits, though his words beseech his actions, leaning back in for more, "wretched."

The hunter surrenders to his mouth, but the vampire cannot risk it, must end this before he does something he regrets.

"No more,” he commands, shoving the brainless idiot away, heaving with the strain it took, “You must leave. I will find you again before the next party."

"That may not be for some time,” the huntsman reasons, completely logical in his response despite what boundaries they've crossed, “We're stronger together. It'll be easier for them to pick us off if we split up."

"And what happens if I decide to pick you off," Damian presses.

"Let's say that ye do,” Tardif muses, “Ye forget, I am trained to kill yer kind. If ye do somethin’ I don't want ye to do, ye'll know it."

"Please, do not stay here,” the vampire begs, feeling his body shudder, transforming into something more grossly inhuman, “I do not know if I can resist it any longer.”

"Ye can. I know ye.”

Damian laughs cynically, "Your sudden faith in me is misplaced."

The vampire makes an injured noise, staggered and garbling as his insides begin to change, insect legs sprouting from his abdomen, a long rudder of a thorax pushing out from his backside.

“Wot can we do to stop it? Slow it down?”

"You can run," Damian says, his morbid humor shining through these dire circumstances.

"Never been very good at that,” Tardif remarks, cocky and unbudging.

"Enough” the nobleman shouts, the most desperate he’s ever been, “Go! Please … ”

Tardif pulls a silver band out from under his tunic, placing the whistle inside the semblance of a human hand, "Take this. Use it to call me. I will come."

"Fool,” Damian laughs, the sound cryptic, supernatural, barely distinguishable, “I will always have need of your blood."

"Just make sure I recognize ye when I do.”

With his parting gift, the hunter finally departs, Sebastian returning to his master's side, swaddling him within its large bulk. Damian is all too grateful for his friend and the leathery tail that consoles him, suffering through the excruciating pain of molting, an experience he hasn’t endured in years.

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