#Meryl feels a bit sorry for him

[pentragonart]

Game night

[pancake-breakfast]

Sorry it took me so long to get these notes up. Between internet issues and pure busy-ness, it's been rough. But here they are! The notes from AX Day 1's Trigun Stampede panel! Now with images! (Sorry for Chilchuck's head in most of them. He's awfully tall for a half-foot.)

Trigun Stampede presented by Toho Animation, Studio Orange, and Crunchyroll

The guests for this panel were Yoshihiro Watanabe (producer at Orange) and Katsuhiro Takei (producer at Toho animation), with Steve Liu from Crunchyroll hosting. (They had a translator as well, but Watanabe promptly stole her job.)

One other thing I'm going to note before we get started is that this was Takei's first time talking about all this in front of an audience since Episode 12 aired. He kept looking out at the practically full auditorium (the panel was held in one of the ballrooms, so easily one of the biggest rooms at the venue) and seeing all the fans and cosplayers and just grinning from ear to ear. He was clearly very exited.

Introduction

They started off by playing a quick video recapping Season 1. (It really made me want to watch the show on a big screen. It looks great even on a projector!) After the video, Liu started in on the interview questions. Please don't take anything below as a direct quote unless it's in quotation marks; I'm not that fast with my notes, so I'm mostly paraphrasing and relying on my memory, either of which could include my own misinterpretation or just be flat-out wrong.

The first question was, how do you feel about the future of the series?

Watanabe said their passion (for creating more of the series) was burning within them.

Takei noted that when the show was initially announced at AX some years back, they were very nervous about it since they were remaking a well-known and well-loved title, but today, looking out at all the fans, he felt a lot more confident.

Behind the Scenes of Trigun Stampede

They then showed some concept art from the famed Trigun Bible. This included what Watanabe called "Vash's projection of Rem." Seems like they came up with this design before coming up with Vash's dark design.

They also shared some concept art of what most people assume to be spiky-haired Vash...

...but which Watanabe quickly noted is actually Vash in Episode 1. You know, when he's hanging upside-down. Takei added that Muto, the director, was a bit mischievous and had a tendency to lie to the staff about when certain designs would appear in the series. He apparently hid a handful of Easter eggs and foreshadowing (like Vash having spikier hair) throughout the series.

They also had some concept art of Knives and of Vash's wing.

They then showed some concept art for some friends all y'all might recognize if you read the manga....

...but in case you didn't, I'll identify the characters below:

Top Row: Vash the Stampede, Millions Knives, Meryl Stryfe, Roberto Deniro (the blank one), Legato Bluesummers

Bottom Row: Monev the Gale, Dominique the Cyclops, Leonof the Puppet-Master, E.G. the Mine, Nicholas the Punisher, Midvalley the Hornfreak, Hoppered the Gauntlet, Rai-Dei the Blade (his name doesn't actually look like Rai-Dei here, though, so they may be calling him something different or they may just be subbing in kanji; it's too small for me to tell), Grey the Ninelives, Livio the Double Fang, Zazie the Beast, Elendira the Crimsonnail

If you're sitting there thinking, "Aww, they came up with all these designs but we saw so few of them!" then I have news for you! Watanabe said we should be keeping an eye out for more of these folks in the next part.

Favorite Scenes

Next, Liu asked both of the guests about their favorite scenes, and before they got into talking about them, we were shown a video not just of the final scene, but the storyboard, the rough cut version, and the version used for dubbing, all on one screen.

Takei answered first, and he chose the scene from episode 1 where Vash goes up against Chuck Lee, a.k.a. the military policeman from July.

(The audience kept laughing at Vash's wonderfully goofy face in the storyboard.)

When asked why he loved that scene, Takei noted that everything they wanted to accomplish in Trigun Stampede was encapsulated in it. In the manga and '98, Vash is more funny and tough (although "a good-looking guy"), and here in Stampede, he's rather more wimpy (although "still a good-looking guy"). This scene is a good blend of both sides of Vash.

It also showcases a "good action scene," which he clarified by noting there aren't many anime where so much drama and emotion is centered around one bullet. Takei also noted (though it's hard to convey to you all via still images) that Muto trusted his animators to improve on the storyboards. He's not as strict as some other directors and didn't want them to feel confined to stick to it too closely, but rather wanted them to enhance what was storyboarded out as they felt was appropriate.

Which leads to Watanabe's choice for favorite scene: the one where Vash is running through his shattered memories toward Rem and finally breaks free of Knives' prison and yeets Knives himself out. (Alas, Watanabe did not, in fact, use the word "yeet.")

Watanabe said he chose this scene because he loved the details that the team added to it after the storyboarding. The storyboard just had Vash running, but they added all these subtle movements and emotion that created a much stronger impact. When the completed scene was presented in Studio Orange, all who saw it were in awe.

Upcoming Trigun Stampede Merch

First up, as many of you already know, we have the Special Edition DVD/Blu-Ray set, which is currently available via preorder on Crunchyroll.

Second up is a new Vash figure! So new they haven't finished coloring it yet, BUT they did note this will be Black Vash (a.k.a. Grape Juice Vash) from Ep. 12. Takei is particularly excited about this because he always wanted to get the Black Vash figure from back in the day, but wasn't able to, and now he's gonna be able to get his own Stampede version. This figure is actually designed by the same person who designed the Vash figures for the manga back in the day. Interestingly, after they picked him but before they met to collaborate on designs, he came up with the current design for the figure. This worked out exceedingly well, since the design Orange wanted for the figure was basically the same thing.

Also, this Vash figure will soon have a Wolfwood companion figure. Because you can't have just one of them. The Wolfwood figure is still being designed, so alas, no images of it yet.

There's also been a restock of the orders for the clothes collaboration they had with SuperGroupies before, so a bunch of that stuff will be available again soon. They're also adding a new item to the lineup, and that's a black version of the Vash jacket. (I checked their website and it looks like they might also be adding a Livio EoM jacket. Hot.)

Preview Stuff for the Next Season

Ok, first and foremost, I'm gonna note there was NO TRAILER SHOWN, so let's crush those hopes now lest they linger and lead to disappointment. What they DID show was this:

First, a preview image of the characters for the upcoming season....

TBH, the only difference I really noticed is Knives' hair seems fluffier, but new art is always nice! Also, this one looks like a win for foot, ankle, and/or hand fetishists.

Second, we got a lovely video thanks from Nightow himself!

(He said he wanted to be there, but unfortunately there wasn't a strong enough headwind for him to run to the con. And for the curious, he's wearing a Guillermo del Toro shirt.)

Nightow being a fan of Stampede and overjoyed that so many people love his story isn't new. (Wonderful, but not new.) What IS new is he drew this nice little piece of art for us all.

He said this was his first time drawing Stampede Wolfwood. He had to get them to send him 3D images of the Punisher to be able to get it right, but he enjoyed making it! He said "it felt old and new at the same time." He can't believe next year will be the series' 30th anniversary. (Congrats, OG fans. Now we can all feel old together.)

The third thing they released was this.

Given the amount of trouble I've had posting this, I'm sure plenty of you already know that the next season/final chapter is going to be called Trigun Stargaze. Liu asked Takei about this title, and Takei said something like, "I don't know what this is about. Trigun Stargaze? What's that? This is news to me." He then (after noting he had just been joking) launched into what little he could tell us about the upcoming season.

He said he can't talk about the reason for the specific title, but that manga readers can probably make some good guesses.

Trigun Stargaze will take place 2 1/2 years after Stampede. They want to keep in mind the original concept behind Stampede, that being that because the previous Trigun stories have been so amazing, what they create needs to be amazing, too. He said they're proud of what they've made so far. It went beyond your imagination. He hopes Stargaze will go beyond your imagination, too.

Cosplayer Highlight

They decided to call all the cosplayers up to the space in front of the stage next. There were SO MANY COSPLAYERS!! Foolishly, I didn't take a panorama.

Costumes included '98 and Stampede versions of Vash, Wolfwood, and Meryl, as well as a handful of Millys (Millies?), not one but TWO groups doing Barbie & Ken-styled Vash and Wolfwood (the Barbie Vashes shouted, "Hi, Barbie!" at each other when everyone went to sit back down), an old-school Legato, a Zazie, and a group fully cross-playing the characters (with Meryl and Milly being male while Vash and Wolfwood were female; they did NOT change the costumes for any of the characters).

Liu handed out prizes to a few of them (they didn't have nearly enough prizes for all of them), and then they had all the cosplayers bunch up and face the stage and the guests turn around and took a picture of everyone. (If anyone has a link to the picture anywhere, let me know and I'll add it here. No, you can't see me in it; I'm much too far over to the side.)

Guests' Closing Thoughts

They were actually running early on the panel, so Liu opened it up to any additional comments either of the guests would like to make.

Takei still seemed overwhelmed by all the cosplayers (like I said, he spent the whole panel grinning from ear to ear at the audience), and he noted he had been worried about the Stampede characters being accepted by the fans. This was his first time seeing all the cosplayers, and he said that made him "feel safe."

Watanabe said he loved looking at the "multiverse" of Trigun. It had these previous iterations, and now it has Stampede, and the fans have both adopted it and adapted it, blending the different versions together and even adding their own things, and he really appreciates that. Takei added that while they created Trigun Stampede, if in 50 or 100 years, a new Trigun series is made, that would be great.

The animation for Stargaze is in process. Watanabe said he just recently saw some of it (a clip of only a few seconds that he, of course, couldn't show us) and it blew him away.

Both Watanabe and Takei are fans of the manga and the original series, and Takei said he's really wanted this series to happen, so he hopes we all look forward to it, too.

[onlyseokmins]

$$60 billion (part 1) • l.s.m.

How did a legendary bounty promised for turning in the wasteland's most infamous outlaw transform into a sick, little inside betting joke amongst your traveling companions? Though you have no idea why they're doing it… you sure as hell don't want that very same gunslinger comrade worth sixty billion double dollars to know anything about it either — but oops — looks like he already does! Damn you and your temper, some unhelpful lip-loosening alcohol, and one no-good, sorry excuse of a preacher you sometimes think of as a friend.

Pairing: outlaw!lee seokmin x fem!reader Genres: eventual smut (minors dni!), trigun!au action!au, apocalyptic/post-apocalyptic!au, space western!au, slight enemies to comrades to ??? !au, angst, fluff, they're dumbasses your honor 🙏 Warnings: swearing, blood, death, gore, guns, injuries, destruction, mentions of knives, weapons, violence, creepy monsters and creatures, ptsd, moral ambiguities, dark topics tbh, smoking, unsettling space western things, slight body horror and hints at altered dna, weird religious cults, mentions of eating/food, alcohol, threats, bets among friends, platonic (but not really) nakedness, reader is operating on a short fuse bc I believe u have to be built different for this universe, their communication is abt to be as poor as the plant life 💀 Seungcheol kinda his own warning imho, biggest apology to chan, and we all love seok sm bc he sings abt total slaughter 🙇🏻‍♀️ WC: 19.5k of 32.7k | Part 2 | Read on AO3 A/N: this is for the Now that's 90's - A Seventeen collab and loosely based off/inspired by the Trigun anime/manga! You do not need to know it as I manipulated a whole lot of elements for my own narrative but beware of various spoilers if you do go ahead and check out the series after reading!! I feel like the boys may seem ooc but I had a lot of fun putting this together 😌 Thank you Summer and Isa for hosting this collab and your utmost patience in me finally writing my piece! I hope everyone enjoys this and please check out the other writers in this amazing collab ❤️let me know your thoughts and feel free to ask any questions regarding this au's intricacies!!

Everyone wanted Lee Seokmin. 

The cities' great militaries. Bounty hunters. Bandits on the roads. Criminals escaping death row. Prowling pirate gangs. His twin brother. You. 

Though you reckoned your "want" for him was a bit… different from others. Well, at least you hope so, goddamn it. 

You shiver. 

At first, you wanted him just like the mass majority would one day as well — dead. The deed swiftly carried out with a silver pistol aimed at his temple.

Besides, your blood-thirst began before the destruction of July. Unlike most, who angrily shake their fists at the gaping crater on the fifth moon in the spirit of pure vengeance. Yes, the tragic incident of the great city that upped the bounty dangling over his head like a noose to a sixty billion double dollars reward. But Little Ivywood was the first of many places that would end up reduced to ruins after Lee Seokmin set foot there.

Wiped off the map. Wiped from history. Wiped from existence. But never forgotten. Especially not by the small town's only known survivor — you.

Your earliest memories contain little about the events that led up to being left on the doorstep of Little Ivywood's unofficial orphanage. How could they when you were just a baby? One swaddled in a ratty cloth weighted down by a rusted pistol. There was just one simple hint to your past — scribbled nearly illegible on a torn piece of paper dotted with blood — and could only be what the nuns had to assume was your name.

At least that's how Sister Meryl relayed the tale whenever asked, her hands clasped tightly together in praise and gratitude to the Saint that delivered you to them unharmed. The irony, considering Sister Lucia always looks like she'll faint just like the day she opened the convent's side door. It wasn't an easy sight to see or recall, the image of a wailing infant mouthing on the empty muzzle of a gun.

Neither versions of your origin story could be that far off thanks to the scar marring your left hand and the gun held tightly in your right. You've had both for as long as you can remember. And as you grew and changed, so did they.

The scar shrunk and faded through the years, seemingly forgotten amongst a myriad of other markings littered across your skin. Over time, the pistol's rusted parts were repaired or replaced and soon, its shine and character returned. Restored to its former glory while forging a new beginning ahead with a different owner.

But there were two things that stayed constant throughout your years at the orphanage. The first was your birth name. Not even the nuns, who generally loved bestowing scriptural monikers as if they were granting rich titles to unnamed orphans, tried to change yours. The second was a person who you still refuse to call by his baptismal name — Chan.

He helped you, became an assistant of sorts. Originally just some snot-nosed, beanpole of a fellow orphan you didn't really pay much attention to. A scared kid who cried way too loudly even after you'd even taken the time to demonstrate that the gun was safe after he'd been the one continuously pestering to see it. Very much to Sister Constance's chagrin, since it all went down in the middle of confessional time.

But curiosity eventually overturned the initial fear.

Lucky, because by acquiring bravery, Chan could discover his innate talent for gunsmithing. Lanky, noodle arms transformed into well-formed, sinewy muscles. The soft baby skin of his hands roughened with callouses as he whittled away near the convent's underground furnace. He'd spend hours down there, returning with sweat, grime, and charcoal smudged all over his skin after melting together the random metal objects found by digging beneath the basement's unfinished floor.

The Sisters disliked dirt and grime all over the children and tracked through the doors. But it was hard to keep clean out in the middle of a sandy desert. Complaints dwindled thanks to the fellow orphans who would stop their mischief to watch Chan work. And as time passed, his shoulders broadened further, his voice began to deepen, his dark hair grew longer, and those brown eyes started to sparkle with something different from simple, fleeting passion — it was a dream.

The excitable boy would tell you all about it under the stars. Late into the nights when you searched for what had to be remnants of Earthen materials from the Big Fall, he'd chatter on and on.

"Once we're actual adults," — free from the guardianship requirement provided from the orphanage — "we're gonna leave Lil Ivywood behind and explore the great wastelands of Gunsmoke!"

You snort at the ridiculousness of such an idea. "And how do you think we'll survive?"

"Easy-peasy, I'm gonna build a bunch of guns and we're gonna end up so rich. And famous!"

"Yeah, sure. Throw a couple double dollars at the worms, I'm sure they'll let us pass with no problem."

Not one to be deterred by your eternal sarcasm, Chan shakes his head."Nah, that's where you come in. Didn't think I'd let you freeload, right?"

He stands and stretches both of his arms straight out, the ones your roommate had started to gush over. Hands clasped together like Sister Meryl's always do before prayer time and then extending both pointer fingers into a mock handgun, out into the distant sand dunes one rarely dares to stray.

"You gotta be a sharpshooter to not let my hard work go to waste!"

You lazily take aim next to him, handling the freshly restored pistol with uncharacteristic gentleness. While it might officially be yours, it's also Chan's baby.

"Mm-hm, me and my killer skills."

And then you both dissolve into laughter.

It was such a pipe dream and yet; it didn't seem utterly impossible. There were little moments you let yourself imagine it, too — just until the suns peep their heads above the horizon. There was no way you could defend yourself — let alone another person — from the dangers of the desert or it would've been something you'd attempted years ago.

But when Chan spoke of his plans under the glow of the orbiting full moons, confidently mapping an adventure through an area he's never been to or seen before, and dreamed — he easily pulled you under his spell too. It was contagious, exciting, addicting, and most of all — it could really be… possible.

An armory of grade-A weapons. The bank account overflowing with double dollars. Endless boxes of bullets and the refined skills to shoot them; you were the force to be reckoned with and a protector of those who couldn't do it for themselves.

"Do you think… we could really succeed?" you ask one night, running a finger along the familiar engravings on your gun's grip panel.

Chan's grin was as shiny as the circular metal shell he was carving into. You refuse to look his way because of how infectious it could be. Plus, the main reason it was so stinking bright was due to this being the first time you verbally entertained his ideas.

"Oh-ho-ho, doubt my capabilities?"

"Obviously."

If offended — he was not — by the instant agreement, there was no sign of it. Instead, he focused back onto his handicraft, knowing you would eventually spill your true thoughts if he was patient.

There was no rush tonight after all. A star-filled expanse of black blanketed across the sky — one he hoped would never change to blue.

"More like… it's just going to be so risky!"

"And that's why you'll be the —"

"But I've never even held a gun before!" You spot Chan pointedly direct the corner of his gaze to where your hands rest, causing you to flinch them away from the weapon and wave around haphazardly as your cheeks heat. "I mean, like, to shoot! Sister Lucia always says it'd be too dangerous."

"Sister Lucia thinks water that doesn't flow directly out of the holy grail is dangerous."

"Technically, that's true."

"Oh god, she's got you thinkin' the same, too!"

"But she'd probably rather swear by the Saint than ever let me get any bullets…" The thought alone of the devout nun saying the Savior's name in vain makes both of you smirk but yours falls just as quick as it came. "And we're going to need those if we ever want to leave Little Ivywood."

"Well —"

"And I… I'd have to kill things! People, too. I don't know if I can do that, I —"

" — Think fast!"

It's his turn to interrupt, chipper voice ever optimistic as he tosses the finished trinket your way. Thankfully, your reflexes work fast enough to catch it nimbly in time. The oval is hot to the touch after hovering over searing flames and despite its small size, weighs down your right palm as you glance over its etchings.

Satisfied, Chan takes that as his cue to walk toward the nook that shields you from the roaring heat of the furnace. Squatting down so he's eye-level with your knees, he brushes back his tangled mess of hair with one hand and taps knowingly at the barrel of the pistol with the other.

"There's no reason to kill anyone or anything."

"But this can hurt people… I could hurt people."

"You've had this ever since you were a baby and never harmed anyone with it."

"It's… it's never been loaded or…"

"Doesn't need to be. If you smacked someone with it, they'd surely feel that hit." He snickers, tone bordering on the edge of cockiness. "I would know, considering the sturdy and valuable materials used for repairs."

You roll your eyes and mutter, "Show-off," but it lacks true malice behind it.

"And even so," Chan takes one of his hands and pats the back of your free one, unintentionally right over the spot where your scar lies. "You've hurt no one before. Not even me, who annoys you the most!"

"About time you finally realized how merciful I am."

He says your name in earnest, remaining uncharacteristically serious and lays your intertwined hands on top of the gun before squeezing tightly. "Both this and you don't have to kill a single thing or person — ever — if that's not what you want to do. You can aim for non-vital points, shoot up in the air… Bullets or no bullets, just the sight of a weapon alone can be enough of a deterrent for most."

Chewing hesitantly on your lower lip, you let his words sink in and he continues.

"The fact you're aware of the hundreds of risks when handling a weapon like this means you'll be even more cautious when using it. I trust you, so trust in yourself."

Warmth spreads from your interlocked hands and through your entire body like you're wrapped in another one of his sweet hugs, culminating into tears threatening to spill past your lash line. Chan believed in you and though you'd never admit it aloud, it meant the world to you.

"When did you grow up so much?" you tease, letting out an exhale you didn't realize was being held.

"Aw, c'mon! I've been taller than you for months now!"

"Keep dreamin' if it makes you feel better."

Though Chan sasses back by sticking his tongue out, he lets you ruffle his sweaty bangs despite receiving a slightly bruised forehead in return because you forget about the new gift in your hand. Plotting an escape, he stands and pulls you up with him, joined by your clasped hands.

"We should probably head back. Sister Constance's likely gonna ask us to check the Plant before morning mass and you don't want her to catch you dozing off again."

"Last I recall, you were the one she caught napping!"

"But you have the most demerits this week."

"And whose fault is that?!"

Quick as lightning, he nudges you with enough strength to catch you off guard and destabilize your balance. Then he tears away, calling over his shoulder, "Snooze and ya lose!"

"Ugh, this is exactly why — you never play fair!"

Regathering your bearings at record speed, you dash right after Chan. The boy's raucous laughter echoes in your own lungs and you swear the stars twinkle brighter in the nighttime sky. You overtake him right before reaching the convent's door — the same one you were left on — and clutch at his arm before he can reach past to open it.

"Hey… thanks."

He grins all goofy. Chan's well aware you mean much more than that, but he opts to flick your forehead rather than give you grief over it. "Yeah, yeah. I do so much for you, you know?"

"Mm-hm."

"So it's about time to finally pick a name I can carve onto that bad boy. If you don't, I'll put mine there." He nods to your gun excitedly, then points to the oval. "Oh, and I'll make a chain for that soon. Did you decide what you'll put inside?"

"Questions, questions, demands, demands." You wave him off and open the door with a yawn. "I'll think of one. And yeah, you know that Earthen gadget we found? Gonna cut out those papers and put them in there before sleeping."

Once while digging for materials, you had stumbled across a square object that wasn't completely destroyed, unlike many others. After a few experiments of messing with the random knobs and buttons, you determined it could mimic whatever was directly in front of the clear coated lenses. And later — much to your amusement and amazement — it printed out the image on thick, shiny squares.

Fascinating little things those Earthlings created!

You'd luckily put the last few sheets left in the machine to good use. Experimenting with the surrounding scenery that blurrily featured some of Ivywood's buildings, then one of Chan, and finally wrangled a frame that captured both of you together.

"Do you think you'll be able to stabilize it?"

Your tentative question makes him look toward the large, bulbous structure that houses the Plant. The power source Little Ivywood depended upon.

He sports a cheery grin. "Won't know 'til I've tried!"

"Ever considered too much confidence might be a bad thing?"

"If you're jealous, just say so. But with you by my side, there's nothing we can't accomplish together!" He bounces excitedly on his heels. "Besides, I forgot to mention…" Beckoning you with a hand to come closer, you lean in, curious. "I've become quite the master at bargaining. There won't be a single worm who'll refuse a double dollar from the great Chan!"

"What did you do?"

"What haven't I done?"

"You're the worst. Like to ever exist."

"The absolute best, you mean 'cause there'll be no reason for you to waste any bullets or fear cutting a single lifespan short!"

"Goodnight, Chan."

"You mean 'thank you so much, what would I ever do without you, Chan!' but whatever! You can make it up to me tomorrow!"

But tomorrow never came.

Or rather — daybreak arrived in the unrecognizable form of rapid gunfire and screams of terror. The buildings rattled, trembled, and shook from the onslaught just like the people cowering in fear within them.

The dust stirred up in the chapel's hall after a wall unexpectedly collapsed causes you to cough. Amidst the chaos and panic, you spare a glance over your shoulder to see Sister Meryl, who strides confidently to the altar.

She stands with poise and purpose in front of the marbled stone. Steadfast and unwavering in strength because of her faith alone, even as the grand statue of the Saint starts crumbling down with the ceiling tiles falling around it.

It's a visual you're not likely to forget, carved deep into your memory before you flee with the rest. Sister Lucia is flustered as usual, ushering everyone as fast as she can near the grand oak doors that lead out to where additional shouting can be heard and only more pandemonium must await outside.

You're struck with the damning realization.

The gods — they have completely abandoned humankind.

"That would be ten demerits any other day," Sister Constance voice abruptly snaps, "fortunately for you, now is not the time for such things."

It's astonishing how even at this moment, the nun remains on high alert for 'troublemakers'. Her sharp-nailed fingers latch around your wrist as she breezes by — much too similar to when you've been dragged off to detention. And as if that's what's happening, your heels plant firmly in the ground and obstinately tug her back a step.

"What about Sister Meryl? We can't just leave!"

"If you knew what was good for you, you'll obediently obey me. But if you knew that, you'd recognize faithfulness will guide her and the rest of us to safety."

"Nothing guarantees —"

"Those who do not devote themselves truthfully will never understand. Should the Saint deem Sister Meryl's sacrifice to be in vain, then she has failed not only the Holy Bishop and our sacred bonds, but you — one she unnecessarily dotes on — as well."

You want to argue and protest as Sister Constance yanks you forward. But the faint tremors you feel despite the tight grip of her hand and the tensed jawline of the woman whose stoic face is normally unbreakable makes you pause.

She's shaken. She's unsure. She's wavering.

Sister Constance doubts.

And something about that thrills you. Terrifyingly so.

The shock of it all is as startling as the pale sunlight blinding your eyes when the chapel's heavy doors finally get thrown open. Grains of sand swirl through Little Ivywood, diluting the usual brightness of the glowing orbs in the sky and their powerful rays.

A sandstorm brews on the horizon.

That's the least of your worries, though. Blood stains the soil where shrapnel grazed tender flesh. Fellow orphans scream and cry out from their wounds as they struggle to get away from the captors attempting to drag them to the center of town.

With a chill, you alarmingly realize who they're trying to escape from. Women in black and white robes don a wild, crazed look on their faces. The ones who have raised and cared for parentless children throughout many years and tended to every need they could within their means.

The Blessed and Holy Sisterhood of Little Ivywood.

Sister Constance turns and you jump. Both at the horrors of the present and a reminder of how many times a quick movement of hers led to the sharp pain of a switch or ruler tearing into skin. An eerie sound of laughter rings out and your blood runs cold, eyes darting left and right for the source.

And then through the dust particles, looms the sinister silhouette of a figure in a long trench coat flapping in the wind. Spiked hair sticks straight up, retaining its menacing style despite the powerful wind gusts and emphasizing an already impressive height. You gulp, swearing there's a flash of metal followed by a fanged smirk that glints dangerously as Sister Constance tugs you closer to the terrifying shadow beast shrouded by sand swirling in the air.

A declaration of your given name — stern and cold. "Know that your purpose is being fulfilled, that you are serving the great —"

And then comes a shout of your name, this time from someone desperate and panicked. You're yanked forward and then suddenly catapulted backward, grunting at the impact of your body slamming against someone else's.

"You need to go! You need to get out of here!"

"Chan?!"

He clings to you, shifting so his back is to the nun only a few paces past the corner he dashed around for safety and to stall for time. Throwing a cautious look over his shoulder before whispering urgently, "Go! And don't look back!"

"What about you?"

"Don't mind me." The smooth leather of a satchel presses against your palm. "Get movin'!"

"But —"

"Seriously," the boy shoves you forward with a not-so-gentle push. You gape at the audacity and he waves his hand, like he's shooing away a pesky flying worm. Rude. "Please! I'll be right behind you but —"

An eruption of nearby gunfire and a series of high-pitched shing!-like noises interrupt him. He glances again over his shoulder. You cautiously step forward and his head whips back to let out a hiss.

"Chan, what's —"

"Need to grab a few more things, see if any other idiots need help. Just… just get out of town, wait for me by the rocks if it'll make you feel better." He smiles, though it doesn't make those brown eyes of his sparkle like usual. "It'll… it'll all be okay."

You're uncertain and scared. But something about Chan's speaking powers have always made you believe in the impossible. So, you nod resolutely while taking the bag from him and warn, "Promise you'll be safe."

"You hate those kinds of things."

It's true. To you, promises were only made to be broken. And yet…

"… And somehow you've changed my mind before."

The bangs of carnage draw closer. Louder.

"Fine, just go. Please! And don't look back!"

Acquiescing to his pleas, you sprint toward where he pointed. Sitting like giant sentinels lays an outcrop of boulders bordering the western edge of Little Ivywood. The desert is only two paces away, expanding outward into a desolate plain filled with the undulating slopes of dunes. Picking a sizable rock to hide behind, you keep watch for Chan, cringing at the distant sound of gunshots still rapidly being fired.

What was that? What did you see? And what did you almost get dragged into?

What was going on?

Boom!

It's an ear-shattering noise that causes even the great stones around you to tremble from the explosion. A flare of light so bright leaves you no choice but to look away to protect your eyes, ducking behind the rocks as a shield.

When you recover after it dissipates to see what just happened — Little Ivywood is no more.

It's gone.

"No…"

The tiny town reduced to only rubble and ash. What once were rows of square buildings stacked on top of each other to divert the view of a relatively flat lay of the land are now parallel to its surroundings.

"No… no… no…"

Gone.

You don't think twice about running toward the wreckage. Chan is there. Chan has to be there!

"No!"

And most importantly, he has to be alright.

Broken piles of the shoddy architecture littering the landscape prevents you from traversing too far. Bile rises in your throat as you desperately scan for a sign — any sign — for Chan. For survivors. For anyone. Even the air is still, no longer rippling with irritable heat waves and heavy gusts of wind because the blast was strong enough to ward off nature itself and the incoming sandstorm.

For now.

And during the futile search, that's when you spot him. On his knees with his back to you, slouched over in the only clear space amidst the destruction. The tattered fabric of a cerise garment hangs off the man's broad shoulders and pools around his body like a puddle of blood. Reddish-brown bangs tinged with black hang limply as his chin curls further and further into his chest.

I don't understand, you vent to yourself after a couple ungraceful vaults and stumbling through the debris to get closer. This bastard got what he wanted, did what he wanted, and won! So, why is he acting like that? Who destroyed his town? His people?

Finally, you're a couple steps behind him. Thankful, at the very least, for whatever weird state this man is in because it grants you the opportunity to approach and press the cold steel of your pistol to the side of his temple.

"Don't. Move."

You hope it comes out as the threatening command you intend it to be. There's a tense beat of silence as you wait for his next move until you realize he's doing exactly what you demanded.

Then he chuckles. A choked out, watery sort of sound. Your hands start shaking even as they press the barrel harsher against his head.

"Go ahead and shoot."

"Answer me first." Your voice becomes as unsteady as the quakes in your body and you rasp out, "Why… why'd you do it?"

His head lifts and you flinch, but he takes no further action besides staring blankly ahead at the ruins. "I wish I could tell you but… I've been asking myself the same question."

"I — you…! You wreak hell and havoc upon a whole innocent town and… and you don't even know why?!"

"Pathetic, isn't it?" The man laughs again, without a shred of humor. A gloved hand reaches up to wrap around the weapon and you momentarily falter at the force of him leaning into it. The weight pushing it closer into his skull seems hard enough to leave a nasty imprint, as if that should be a main concern right now. "I'd simply like to know how I did it."

"I —"

"Not loaded," he sighs and drops his hand, twisting around to actually get a proper look at whoever was holding him at gunpoint.

You're taken aback by the intensity of death radiating in those dark brown irises that casually observe you through amber-colored, cracked lenses. Your arms fall down, dumbfounded at the stranger's unflinching behavior, the pistol bumping into your thigh. He lets out a "tsk" and then pulls something out of his pocket.

In his opposite palm, clad in a fingerless glove unlike the left, rests a conical golden object. Though you've never seen one in real life before, you think you know what it is. The shape matches the hollow outlines when Chan disassembled the chambers of your gun.

"A cartridge," he says and you blink. "A bullet," he clarifies upon noticing your confusion. Then the man smiles encouragingly. "Go on. Take it."

You're incredulous. "You're okay with handing that over to me?"

"It's what you want, right?" There's a wistful look on his face. "This place… it was your home."

"No," you're quick to refute, shocked at such an automatic response. Then admitting, "I don't even know what a home is."

Innocent town, my ass, is what you derisively admit inward and snort at yourself.

The convent itself was far from comforting. The other orphans with their bright grins when Saint Meryl sang lullabies on the nights you couldn't sleep — those were the kinds of things that made it bearable.

Guilt.

"I — I —"

It overwhelms your senses. Rattling up your entire nervous system and settling a cruel, cruel weight in your chest. You hunch over, chest heaving, and throat burning. There's a thump as your gun falls to the ground, its silvery sharp edges becoming distorted, warped, and blurred through a film of unshed tears in your widened eyes.

"Should've… It should've —"

"Hey, hey…"

"It should've been me!"

The man rises to his full height, brushing off his clothes before crouching down. A sturdy hand grips your shoulder and dutifully encourages your gasping upper body into an upright position. Gently, ever so fragile, he bops your forehead with his and you subconsciously lean against the unexpected support.

He's near enough to ground you to something solid. But distant enough for two strangers whose first meeting is one amidst a crumbling town's travesty. With his close presence comes the scent of gun smoke, though not as bitterly pungent and putrid as you recall from before. It's subtle and smokey, reminiscent of the fire that Chan once proudly stoked in his makeshift forge.

Your body shakes as the tears finally slip free.

"All lives are equally precious, one shouldn't be sacrificed for another."

"… How can… how can you say that so… easily?"

The death-come-over look in his eyes changes to something faraway. Like he's seeing something beyond the destruction surrounding both of you. Those amber lenses don't have to be cracked to draw attention to the fracturing despair radiating behind them.

Then, he shakes his head and shrugs. "Because you should live even when those dear to you are gone. This world is made of love and peace, after all."

Your crying abruptly pauses with the natural effort it takes to let out a scoff. Ignoring your utter scorn and disbelief, the man's gaze drifts to the pistol still on the ground. The tip of a steel-toed boot kicks it up into the air with a flourish, single-handedly catching it to inspect the weapon with practiced ease.

"Live because there's a reason you survived, even if you loathe every second of it. You'll feel like you don't deserve it. But persevere because you should. Because that's what they would've wanted and you keep them alive by living yourself. A burden? Maybe. Why spend such a cursed blessing only dwelling in regret when you can do so much more?"

He offers the gun back, its handle extended in your direction.

"If nothing else, live for yourself most importantly. Help show the world the love and peace it deserves. Even if it couldn't afford to gift it to you. That's what life is all about. The ticket to the future is always blank!" Pausing, he shrugs with a regret-filled smile on his face. "At least that's what I was taught… and what I think."

"… Awfully full of optimism for some dude who wiped out a full town and doesn't even know why."

"Name's Seokmin," he returns, now sporting a cheeky grin as you cautiously reach out for the pistol. Only to be outsmarted with a literal 'sleight-of-hand' and meeting the warmth of fingers and a gloved palm instead of the expectation of hard, cold, and familiar steel.

"Huh?"

"Lee Seokmin, to be precise! And it's a pleasure to meet 'cha! Erm, despite the… terrible circumstances." Seokmin jiggles the gun in front of you with his other hand, almost taunting you to reach for it again.

You don't.

"And what do you call this lovely lady?"

"Nothing."

"A shame. But not everyone cares to name things, 'specially if they don't hold any value." He finally tosses it back and you barely manage to catch it in time with a scowl.

"Just haven't decided."

"I see! Mine's Geranium."

"Oh, like… the flower?"

He visibly perks up at that even further, a radiant smile showcasing two pointy fangs. "You've heard of it?"

"Well," you scratch your cheek, "the, uh, sisters gave a girl that name because of her hair."

There's an uncomfortable pause as the dreadful realization you'll never see those brilliant ruby locks bounce because of her excitement again settles back into your stomach. You swallow, eyes roaming the stranger in front of you for a distraction.

"Um… you must really like the color… red."

Seokmin glances down at the tatters of his scarlet clothes and shrugs. "I guess. Though the one I saw was red, I've heard they come in different colors."

"You've seen a plant? Like a plant plant? A real one! You know — that grows out of the ground and transforms and all that? It doesn't, well…"

Vegetation was a rarely discussed concept. The only thing you knew came out of the poorly written history books in the dusty library's darkest corner. In the desert outskirts, you had a better chance of finding ancient Earth technology that might still be intact to share its plethora of knowledge about the old world humans left behind than hope to find whatever resources the big cities had access to.

"Mm, yeah, a long time ago. But say," he jovially waves the cartridge from before and it glints in the setting rays of the suns. "Would you care to hear this man's story before shooting him?"

And of course, you listened. What other choice did you have, you who lost everything at once? But even back then, something small and precious was planted in the barren depths of your heart. That was just the beginning. It would continue to grow, watered and tended to under the sunny smile of Lee Seokmin — the destroyer of cities and a very wanted man across the planet.

You leave that tiny bit out during the recitation of your past to the inquisitive pastor. Though something you'll regrettably find out later is he's already got you all figured out.

Bastard.

"… So, that's how I met the infamous Lee Seokmin and didn't end up killing him," you declare with a flourish and take a satisfied gulp of cheap beer picked up from some abandoned mart along the way out of Little Jersey.

Draining another bottle dry, you toss away the metal cap, close one eye, and peer through the narrow bottleneck like it's a telescope — albeit a very poor one.

Through the distorted glass stretch endless sand dunes as far as the eye can see. Stars glitter and sparkle amid the glow of the full moons in orbit, temporarily dimmed by a puff of the roguish's man's cigarette that wafts through the inky darkness.

You wonder if he'd be willing to share one.

"A shame," Seungcheol grumbles and offers a white stick from his pocket.

You take it eagerly only to see it's nothing but — a lollipop. The hard candy's become a strange gooey consistency thanks to melting in the desert heat all day and partially re-solidifying during the nighttime's chilly air.

It's stale too.

Fucker.

You let out a disdainful sniff but nod in agreement to his statement. "It is. But he promised me something. Then his bounty increased from a meager six million to sixty billion double dollars after destroying July, putting a hole in the moon, and all that. So… following him around has paid off."

"I guess," he shrugs, "guess I don't really care 'bout yer lil meet-cute story."

You gape at the audacity. "You're the one who fuckin' asked!"

"Well… figured we could bond, ya know? Orphans 'n all that cozy, feel-good shit."

"You know, not a single thing I've said thus far coud be classified as 'cute'."

"Uh-huh."

"And I never took you to be a sentimental fool."

"Hey, now —"

You hold up a hand. "'Thou shall not bear false witness'."

"As if ya even know what that means," Seungcheol retorts and flicks the ashy cigarette stub in your direction, the cross around his neck ironically reflecting in the moonlight. "Was gonna say, if anythin', I put the mental in sentimental, sweet'art."

Well, you certainly wouldn't argue with that point. "…What I do know is that you're doing this all. For him."

"'Ol Needle Noggin, eh?"

"Well… yeah. But he's only part of a bigger picture for you."

"… 'S none o' yer business, ya know? Best to know less."

Your eyes roll. "Sure. That's why you nearly got hit by our car 'cause you wore a suit into the desert and didn't bring a drop of water. All while hauling that stupid, big-ass cross around! And then you insist on joining us — try to scam us! — but hey," you put your hands up, "none of my business."

"Wasn't tryna scam —"

"Hella shady, man... Hella. fuckin'. shady." You're shocked you can see the man's eyes roll in a begrudging defeat behind his black sunglasses — at night, no less — but you nudge him. "C'mon, just tell me! I bet it has to do with Hopeland, something… or someone back at that orphanage."

"Anyone told ya how irritatin' ya are?"

"Only the ones that are equally just as annoying!"

"Tch, woman." Seungcheol messes up the back of his black hair, mouth opening as he cracks his jaw. There's a pregnant pause. "… 'Han was… he was different. Ya wouldn't get it."

"Try me. Evidently you weren't listening very well, were you?" No surprise there. You retrieve the locket that takes refuge beneath your top, a familiar oval swinging from its long chain between the two of you. "Believe it or not, I do get it."

His eyes fixate on it like a pendulum, darting to your face, and then up to the sky. A crooked smile quirks up the corner of his mouth and he lets out a resigned sigh. "Ya really love 'im, don'tcha?"

You feel a funny sensation.

Akin to getting caught in a horde of flying worms and trying to squash down as many as you can. Your answer is hushed and Seungcheol snickers. Unbeknownst to the two of you that an additional pair of ears — assumed to be asleep — also catches your whispered reply.

"So, how much ya gonna pay for confessin'?" the pastor goads and lets out a startled yelp when you try to smash the hand-held bank he totes around that's shaped like a cathedral.

"Oh, go to hell, Choi!"

"Stare any longer and you'll no longer be needin' Sirocco." An amused snicker follows the relaxed drawl. "Bullets're 'bout to start flyin' outta those eyes 'stead of that gun o' yers."

You scowl at the dumb man seated next to you. "It's not like subtlety has ever been a strong suit of yours. But could you at least pay better attention to your surroundings?" A meager amount of golden liquid sloshes against the sides of the glass you pointedly wave around. "Or are you already too drunk to forget where we are?"

"Ain't no lightweight," Seungcheol brags with his fourth pint of the night in hand and a rapacious grin cockily tilting the empty lollipop stick in the corner of his mouth upward. "Can't say the same for the rest, though. Whiskey's stronger than a punch to the gut."

"… You would know. I'm sure it might just taste like water to some by now."

While it might initially elate most visitors to order as many rounds of the only available beverage on the menu as possible, the reality of the situation was much more grim. As if he can read your mind, the man clad in black, gray, and muted silvers flippantly reminds you of why your so-called merry band of travelers are even here.

"Needle Noggin said 'e fixed the Plant up just fine 'n dandy, so here's hopin' we get some clean bathwater t'night."

At those words, your gaze instinctively shoots back to where it focused earlier. Seungcheol snorts and drains his glass with a satisfactory sigh before poking more fun at you.

"Gonna put a hole through his head at this point."

"Not like that's anything new."

"Yeah, but rather than constantly laserin' holes through his skull, ya should be tryna convince him to fill yers up, instead. 'N not referrin' to that empty space behind yer forehead."

"I know exactly what you mean, you perverted freak."

That cracks Seungcheol up. "'N here I was thinkin' ya was gonna end up a nun servin' the Eye of Joshua!"

By now, you're well-accustomed to the hedonistic ways of the man who still keeps a leather band with a cross on it strapped across his Adam's apple, sewn into the cuffs of his black suit, and carries the hulking shape of one on his weary shoulders.

Unfazed, you fire back, "If they even let someone like you into the blessed and holy ranks, then any whore off the streets would be welcome to join."

It's a series of light-hearted jabs you both take in stride. The truth is much darker and deeper, but tonight serves as a tiny snapshot away from the normal weariness of day-to-day survival in Gunsmoke. Right now, you celebrate alongside the residents of Tonim what peace could really look like in the future.

Except you're on edge.

For a reason that's silly compared to the usual adrenaline rush of tracking down Plants nearing red status and defending the area, all the while trying to prevent the inevitable destruction and chaos to follow. Still, it's why you beckon the bartender over for another refill as a positively "tickled-pink" Seungcheol not-so-silently judges.

"Now who's staring?"

"'Kay, but's not with unbridled lust and — " He's cut off by a sharp kick to the side of his shin delivered by one of your heavy combat boots. "And feelin's," gets wheezed out before the pastor falls silent at your nasty scowl paired with Wonwoo's timely arrival.

The saloon owner and de facto authority in town approaches the two of you cautiously. It's no secret who you are, who you're with. What you do and the things that follow when you do what you do. And yet what you've done has saved the town and given its people — especially the younger folk — something that some of them have never experienced before.

Hope.

And that seems to be good enough proof for Wonwoo. Rumors may just be rumors, after all. None of you are like the reports relayed in a tinny voice through the virtually enhanced radios that are non-plant-powered — aka illustriously dubbed by their inventor as VERnons.

"… the Bloody Rain… follows… Lee… Humanoid Typhoon… armed… dangerous. Punisher… cross… machine gun… two unknown… likely… agents…. Bernardelli Insurance…"

The VERnon sitting behind the counter splutters out bits and pieces of information. He side-eyes the device awkwardly and starts fumbling with the buttons, trying to mumble over the static and monotonous voice.

"Can I pour you another drink?"

"Sure," you chuckle, pleased.

The bartender's well-intentioned efforts are fruitless which is to be expected. Only the creator, and those he personally taught, could truly modify the invention as pleased. A part of you hoped to find evidence Hansol had traveled this far but alas, he was probably still searching through the seven major cities for his beloved Milly before attempting to wander through the treacherous wastelands.

A brown, short-haired darling sneaks awe-filled glances at the two of you from the corner where a group of women around your age gather to chat. Seungcheol's the first to catch onto the admiring starry-eyed gaze and winks. Chuckling when a pudgy hand clings tighter to one of the lady's long skirt, using the fabric as a demure little shield against his effortless charisma.

You catch the tail-end of the interaction with the ghost of a smile. If there's one thing that can definitely soften Seungcheol's rough edges, it's children. You can't blame him, reminded of cheery voices and energetic footsteps pounding after your own through the convent's hallways.

The attractive woman wonders what's drawing the younger girl's attention and leans down to whisper in her ear. Gesturing in your direction, you watch as she nods encouragingly and offers a gentle smile, pushing the tiny brunette forward who readily toddles over. The gaps still waiting for pearly white teeth to grow in that shy smile on the little girl's face are endearingly winsome.

"'Lo, Wonu."

The bespectacled man starts, eyes wide as he peers over the counter and just manages to glimpse the top of her mousy brown tufts. "Is that you, Lina? You're not supposed to be here."

"Past yer bedtime, lil one?"

She huffs indignantly at the two men, hands on her hips. "I've once stayed up 'til four in the morning, mister!"

"Oh, Lina…"

"Besides, how can anyone of good standing sleep properly when there's heroes in town?"

"Huh, what a darlin' angel!"

You scoff at your comrade's words. "As if you've ever seen one."

"I do beg your pardon," Wonwoo scrambles to excuse the child's enthusiasm. "Looks like another talk is due with, uh, Sheryl."

"You're just jealous, Wonu. Sherry says they're heroes."

A chubby finger points at you and Seungcheol and the bartender clicks his tongue — partially in reproach and the other half out of embarrassment. The two of you hardly pay any attention to his reaction, seeming to not mind her boldness at all.

"That's right, sweet'art. And don'tchu forget now." In fact, a certain cross-wearing man revels in it. He rummages deep in his pocket and pulls out a lollipop with a flourish. "'N here's a lil magic gift for ya, princess."

You're one step faster, snatching it and unwrapping the candy with a quick inspection. At least it looks fresh and clean. Seungcheol snorts. Ignoring him, you crouch down and hand it to Lina with a gentle smile.

"Remember to be careful with what you take from strangers."

"I know! But you're heroes… and heroes are always good people! You would never hurt me!" Those blue-green eyes are certainly dazzling as she stares into yours, reminiscent of the clean water now filling the town's reservoir. "You're very pretty."

"That might be the highest compliment I've ever received."

"Pretty people don't hurt anyone either! Sherry's super pretty and she's the gentlest I know!"

A very pretty pastor himself snickers for multiple reasons. Meanwhile, Wonwoo laments with a tired sigh, "Dunno what that crazy woman's been teaching her, I swear…"

"You're not supposed to talk about people you like like that, Wonu!" Lina gives them both the stink eye but returns her attention to focus solely on you — Tonim's loveliest savior in her teal-eyed view. "Will I grow up to be as pretty as you?"

Ah, how your heart aches.

"Even prettier."

"I…" She gnaws on her lip, as if it does anything to hide how much her pleased grin glows. "I wanna be a hero, too!"

"Don't see why you wouldn't become one." To you, she already is — in all her innocent radiance and glory.

"Gotta grow big 'n strong first, missy."

"I am strong!"

"Don't doubt it. But wait 'til yer at least twice my age 'fore ya go swingin' at thugs."

She wrinkles her nose. "I'll be in the grave like Grammy if I wait that long, old man!"

Seungcheol guffaws at her unexpected remark and you hear the bartender beg, "Lina, please!" But you focus on all the brilliance in front of you — from precious unkempt locks to blue eyes full of fire and finally to the worn out, dust-covered shoes.

"Hopefully you'll never need a reason to be the hero, though. It's our duty to keep that from happening."

There's too much hidden meaning and brutal experience in your words for her to fully understand. The lull gives a certain pastor an opportunity to sidle back into the conversation, ready to get up to no good as always.

"Ya wanna meet the hero of all heroes, darlin'?"

"Choi —"

"Yeah!" Lina claps ecstatically.

"Go 'head 'n give 'er yer second key," he coaxes quietly with a shit-eating smirk.

"I swear!"

"C'mon… never like keepin' such a sweet gal waitin'!"

After a minute's hesitation, you begrudgingly agree and take it out.

"Thank ya. Now, got a lil mission for ya, Miss Hero-in-the-Makin'."

"Really?!"

Barely able to conceal her exuberance, she reverently takes the key like it's actual gold and not simply plated. Seungcheol ruffles her hair affectionately.

"Y'see the man in all purple?"

"Mhm, yeah! The one that looks like the night sky?"

"Yeah, give 'im it. Make sure to say it's from this pretty lady."

"Choi!"

"Talk to 'im too 'cause he'll love that. He's a real hero, y'know? Truest of 'em all."

"Yes, sir!"

"Attagirl."

Lina scurries off and you turn back to the counter with a sour glare directed at Seungcheol. "What was that all about?"

"Dunno, cute?"

"I'm really sorry about that all," Wonwoo apologetically interrupts with the offer of another refill which is readily accepted. "She… she's very excitable."

"No need for apologizin', man."

"Yeah, she's adorable. Is she yours?"

The bespectacled bartender stutters, almost dropping the glass he's handing to you. "That's, uh, that's my sister!"

"Ah, makes sense! Didn't mean to assume."

He flushes and turns away. But not without mumbling something about it being okay and your comrade groans.

"Reminder — ya get too drunk, 'm not dealin' with ya ass."

"Great, I don't want you near my ass."

"'S not what I meant!"

"Yeah, yeah."

Seungcheol downs another shot and you're quick to follow his lead once Wonwoo hands over another refill per your shared request. However, this time, the stoic man surprisingly lingers and awkwardly fiddles with his wire-rimmed frames, doing his very best to not let his eyes wander your scantily clad figure as your head tilts back to swallow the burning alcohol.

Meanwhile, the pastor's grin turns wolfish.

"So, uh, who are you, really?"

"Curious, eh?" You lean comfortably onto the counter, braced by your forearms and an alluring smile on your face for the handsome saloon owner. His gaze drifts down to your scar-covered hands which also happen to be placed conveniently underneath your breasts.

You'd once said the best disguise and toughest armor was none at all. And why not flaunt your assets — literally — and put them to good use. The desert is hot anyways!

Seungcheol and Seungkwan both called bullshit. Mingyu applauded you and waved his "I respect women's rights, wrongs, and all the above no matter what!" flag. Seokmin — already used to your behavior and attire — had nothing else to say other than his normal quips of, "As long as you're comfortable".

"Well, a-a beautiful woman like yourself has to have everyone wondering."

And you laughed in the face of your haters every time it worked.

"Just a bounty hunter."

Wonwoo nods at the casual answer, recalling the holster strapped around the plush of your thigh beneath short denim shorts. "Where from?"

"Well… around. My hometown was destroyed so…"

"Oh? Same here."

"Ah, camaraderie." You jab a thumb menacingly in the direction of the purple-cloaked figure and the life of tonight's celebration, currently animatedly chattering to Lina. "That's why I'm turning him in."

"He's…?"

"Yup, Lee Seokmin. Yes," you confirm with a smirk at the way Wonwoo's eyes bug out behind his glasses, "that one — the infamous humanoid typhoon. Don't worry, he won't hurt anything or anyone here."

"He's… uh, he's not quite what I expected."

"Yeah, tell me about it."

"You must be pretty badass to reign him in. Heard he's giving what's left of the July regime officers a run for their double dollars."

"For sure. But it's thanks to the other two drunkards, really. Believe it or not, they're Bernardelli insurance agents. Raven-haired one's Seungkwan and the tall one is Mingyu. They're helping to monitor that whopping bounty of mine and prevent any more disasters from happening. Heard I might get a bump in value if I bring him in alive."

"Oh, well, it looks like it's working. And he seems… willing? To come with you?"

"The irony. Always been quite blasé about facing his doom."

"He's really a Plant engineer, too?"

"Of sorts," you huff at his visible confusion but wave your empty glass. "Can I get another?"

He's more than happy to accommodate and returns with two, sliding one over to Seungcheol with a cautious look at the person who seems the closest to you. "And this is…?"

"Pastor. Pleased to meet'cha."

"Oh! Really?"

"A surprising addition to the mix, yeah. But everyone needs to, like, pray sometimes." And under your breath, low enough so only a certain man can hear, "no matter how sketchy they are."

"Do you, hm, officiate weddings?"

The one in question quirks a thick eyebrow. "Ya lookin' to get hitched, boy?"

"M-maybe."

And Seungcheol feels wholly compelled to bless him silently from the bottom of his blackened heart with full sincerity, seeing as how the bespectacled man timidly peeks your way before his gaze darts elsewhere. "Sorry lad, charge 'bout a thousand double dollars minimum."

While the solitary bartender crashes back into the sad reality of capitalism, you jab your elbow into the pastor's ribcage. "Fuckin' scammer."

"Only the best of the best! Ya know, sixty billion's still on the table — 'n it better be callin' my name."

"No one even has sixty billion double dollars!"

"We have 'im." And he points back to where hoots and hollers erupt from the center table of the saloon.

Lina's returned to the woman she was with earlier — presumably her beloved Sherry — but that doesn't mean Seokmin's alone. There's so much disdain in your side-eye, spotting the busty violet-haired sweetheart his arm wraps around. After all, he's the worst kind of ladykiller.

And by that, you mean he absolutely sucks at flirting and can't get or keep a partner to save his life. Yet you're constantly stuck witnessing women, men, and attractive people of all kinds throw themselves at the good-looking man until he opens his mouth and they're put off by his clear lack of suaveness or strange little idiosyncrasies.

"Stop with the stupid bet, it's not happening. Nobody's going to be winning a thing."

"It's called usin' the damn 'magination, darlin'!"

"Which means you need to get better hobbies. You've corrupted my friends!"

"Hah! Them fools were already too invested in this 'fore I ever came along."

"Fill me up again?"

Intent on ignoring Seungcheol, you belatedly realize how aggressive your request comes across. You're also eager for something to help soothe ache in your chest. It comes and goes like a bad toothache — manageable enough to forget about the pain until it returns tenfold.

Thankfully, Wonwoo meekly complies with the back tips of his ears tinged red and Seungcheol barely manages to hide his extreme amount of mirth for the situation behind another glass. In the dim lighting, at certain angles, and with another shot of whiskey settling into your system, you conclude that the handsome saloon owner could certainly pass as Seokmin's brother and vice versa.

But you know the truth.

Familiar with the one who's all too identical to the infamous gunslinger, yet entirely different altogether. Irritation flares in your gut, prickling harsh enough that even the burn of alcohol fails to drown it out.

"I'm turning in for the night."

"Smartin' idea."

"Don't get too smashed."

"You should get smashed."

"Bye, Choi."

Tipsiness is a great excuse to bump purposely into him as you get off the stool. It's only thanks to his genetically enhanced metabolism that the pastor's able to stay upright. He grumbles something that's likely insulting, but standing upright causes you to realize you drank way too much. Everything spins or sways, including your body as you stumble up the stairs.

Somehow, you safely make it to the second level. Above the saloon is a hallway of small bedrooms that Wonwoo generously loans out to routine drunkards or stray travelers. It takes a few minutes of fumbling around but you finally find the lock that matches the first of its paired key and tumble face-first into (thankfully clean) bedsheets.

A hazy mix of drifting in and out of consciousness follows. It's not until the door clicks and there's an ominous creak of floorboards followed by a noticeable presence creeping up at your side that fully rouses you from the feverish dreams of gunfire, explosions, and loss that still plague your mind to this day.

You roll over, intending to assume both an offensive and defensive position against the nighttime visitor, but a hand lands on your shoulder before you can. Still sluggish, there's no way you could ever hope to outmatch the humanoid typhoon, even at your best.

"Hey, you."

It takes a bit for your eyes to adjust to the darkness after hearing his voice — and then there he is. Sitting on the edge of the bed, Seokmin greets you with a fond, megawatt grin. The thumb of his cybernetic prosthesis gently traces little circles over your bare skin. There's a faint hum and glow from its advanced tech mechanics, paired with moonbeams from the window, casting off an ethereal radiance.

"So, you're staying here tonight?"

"But of course, isn't that why you sent such a cute little cherub my way?"

Ah, Lina. You unwittingly smile, remembering how joyful she was to accomplish her mission.

Then your eyes close, nose wrinkling at the copious stench of mixed perfumes and alcohol he brought in and refusing to acknowledge what he says.

"You hella reek."

"Says the one who drank over seven shots."

"… That preacher's a fuckin' tattler. And a liar. And a total scammer. Don't fall for him, Seok."

"Now, what makes you think Seungcheol told me, hm?" He leans down almost nose-to-nose, enough to make yours scrunch even more at the buzzing feeling of how near he is. Your eyes open to squint at him and he winks. "Silly boy tried to mess with god again and max out his intake. Spoiler alert, he failed. Mingyu dragged him back to his room."

"You're the only one I know who can call Choi a 'silly boy'."

"'Cause that's what he is."

"And you need to stop acting like my babysitter!"

You shift away from his gorgeous face and he leans back to give you space, sporting a smug grin. "Then who would take care of you, mayfly?"

"How many times do I have to tell you not to call me that?"

"Be nice to me and maybe I won't keep count on how many glasses you down next time," he teases. "But since I'm so kind and forgiving, would you like a nice, warm, relaxing bath?"

Well, it did sound wonderful. TMI, but cleanliness was a luxury when traveling the desert. Even more so when the places you arrived at had Plant issues. Luckily, Seokmin was more than capable of fixing them but even then, circumstances varied. Especially around the one known across Gunsmoke as mankind's first localized human disaster.

"Only if you get one, too."

It slips from your mouth without a thought. But you might as well have told Seokmin you'd gotten him a box full of doughnuts with how delightedly he clasps his hands together.

"As you wish, m'lady!"

And he treats you like one, scooping you up into his arms in a princess-style carry. At least tonight you're more willing to let him do as he wishes, especially when he discards the perfume-infused outerwear. Whiskey, sleepiness, and the smooth material of his undershirt keep you pliant and cuddly well after he'd snatched you off the bed.

Seokmin's already ten times stronger than even a human like Mingyu and his prosthesis only helps take further advantage of that fact. He easily deposits you on the edge of the tub. Normal routine would require untying the tight laces on your combat boots but since you'd kicked them off prior to resting, he skips to the next step.

Deft fingers make quick work unbuttoning your shorts, the prosthetic digits of his left hand then moving to loosen the straps that keep your top on. His other hand holds them together in a pseudo-knot to keep the material in place.

Honoring a sense of modesty, you suppose — even though you've seen each other unclothed before. But you melt into the secure press of his palm paired with the support of his chest against your back as he leans over to turn on the water.

"Let me know if it's a good temperature."

"M'kay."

"You're so agreeable when drunk!"

"And you're still just as annoying."

"Okay, okay," he relents. Amicably even.

Seokmin never enjoys butting heads like Seungcheol constantly does. Although another "mayfly," gets tacked on to the end of his playful yield in a mischievous tone because if there is one thing, it's that he can never tease you enough.

Brown eyes quietly trace the ink and scars that mark your skin, some disappearing or completely hidden beneath the parts that are covered. Finally, they land on the silver chain around your neck, only a breadth away from the tip of his fingers that suddenly twitch at how soft you feel beneath the calloused roughness of his own skin.

You let out a little sigh and it shakes him from his reverie, noticing the tub's filled up past your calves. Guiding one of your hands to where the locket lies beneath your clothes covering your chest, he stands. "Call me if you need anything or just want help getting out, m'lady."

"'Kay."

You're already stripping bare but Seokmin breezes out the door before you can blink. You sigh again and slip into the hot water, enjoying a soak to ease the heaviness you feel.

It's hard to understand this emotional turmoil. Knowing that you don't enjoy feeling this way, you make a false promise to not drink ever again, staying submerged in the water until your fingers wrinkle.

Maybe you fell asleep, maybe you didn't. There's a bathrobe laid on the sink when you're ready to get out that you don't remember from before but who knows. Who cares? It's cozy and you haven't felt this clean in a while.

"All yours," you lazily declare, stepping into the bedroom.

Seokmin perks up from where he casually sits cross-legged on the bed, fiddling with Geranium. A dopey smile lights up his face, gaze moving from the hefty nickel revolver and zoning in on you.

"All mine?"

"Yeah."

"Yeah," he repeats quieter, more to himself, "all mine…" But when you unconsciously shiver, his eyes flash and brows furrow. "C'mere, I warmed the bed up for you."

"Aren't you going to bathe?"

"Yep, so don't miss me too much, my dear mayfly!"

He accompanies it with a saucy wink and saunters into the bathroom, humming. You find yourself in a bit of a daze, head and cheeks holding onto the heat of the steam from your bath (and more). You change into a light tank and cotton shorts before sitting back down. As promised, where Seokmin rested was indeed warm and smells of faint gun smoke that always brings back memories.

"Total slaughter…!"

Splash!

"… Total slaughter…"

Splash!

"I won't leave… a single man alive."

Splash! Splash!

"La de da de dai~," echoes from the bathroom. "Genocide…"

Splash.

"La de da de duh," splash, splash, splash, "an ocean… of blood."

"Let's begin… the killing time."

Seokmin possessed a lovely melodic voice no matter how nonsensical or gruesome the words he sang. Your eyes close with relaxation as he continues into a different tune. Though the lyrics are definitely more hopeful this time, there's a heavy sense of underlying desolation despite the rapid, upbeat tone.

"So…" splash, "on the first evening," splash, "a pebble from somewhere out of nowhere drops upon the dreaming world…"

You think back to how he silently cried when he thought no one was looking after a young stowaway on the sandsteamer broke into the same nostalgic song. Your heart aches in empathy for the woman whose heroic sacrifice saved humankind but left behind irreparable damage to twins she adored.

Rem Saverem.

She was to Seokmin as what Saint Meryl was to you. But your fondness for the nun who dared to favor one random orphan above the other equally ordinary ones with an unprecedented amount of kindness paled in comparison to the devotion Seokmin exhibited for Rem. Her kindness, hope, and love for and of life didn't simply become Seokmin's philosophies — they were a true part of every fiber, woven into his very being.

He was peculiar. Hardheaded — or in Seungkwan's affectionate term: a hardass — when it came to nonviolence. A true pacifist. Even when enemies held him at gunpoint, allies turned their backs on him, and his choice to always save was at the very cost of his well being… Seokmin would choose to tear himself apart limb by limb before ever causing damage or letting harm come to another.

And even if he always chose the world and those living in it first before anything else, that's what you loved the most about him.

"What's got you making that face?"

You're quick to school whatever expression it might be. Your tongue feels fuzzy. You purse your lips as he lumbers closer, freshly dressed in a comfy white long-sleeved shirt and black sweats.

"What face?"

"You know, the one where something's weighing on your mind."

The bed frame dips and squeaks when he flops down to snuggle against you. Still-damp, reddish-brown bangs lay across your shoulder and dampen your skin. The chilled press of the gold hoop in his left earlobe raises bumps wherever it touches as he endearingly nuzzles you.

"There is."

"Tell me."

"You need to dry your hair properly."

"Do it for me."

"… This is on purpose, isn't it?"

Nevertheless, you take the unused towel around his neck and vigorously rub at his head. No complaints or protests defending his honor come from Seokmin. Just the usual little trills of contentment escape as he leans into your touch. Once you're satisfied the job's done well, he plucks the towel from your hands and you fix him with a stern look.

"Well, Seok? You gonna answer me?"

He curls in on his lanky frame, enough so to find room to plop his head pitifully onto your thighs and nuzzle the bare skin with his nose. "Not if you won't answer me first."

"You."

"Hm?"

"Was… thinking about you."

"Oh, really? Dreaming about how cool, dashing, handsome, and awesome I am?"

"… Yeah. I like you."

He chuckles, closing his eyes. More so at the feeling of your fingers idly playing with his strands of hair than seriously taking what you say. "I like you, too!"

"No, I mean," you jostle him harshly as you shift anxiously, tugging a little too hard at his roots. "Something's wrong with me."

"… Mhm yeah, you've been drinking."

"Goddamnit, Seok… that was like hours ago! But… what if… what if I'm in love with you?"

Your fingers retract like you've been caught red-handed stealing Mingyu's pudding and a millisecond later, Seokmin's head flies off your lap as he sits up to stare incredulously at you and can only gasp out one word, "What?"

It comes out more like a statement than a question. You've seen all kinds of emotions appear in those clear brown eyes of his. Emptiness. Excitement. Happiness. Fear. Loneliness. Mysteriousness. Pain. But now, you can hardly make sense of what turmoil is swimming in those murky depths.

"There's no way," he shakes his head — laughter high and brittle. "Fake", is what Seungcheol occasionally points out whenever he spies the gunslinger's smile. You've never believed him until now. "You're drunk."

Seokmin's been hurt before and you know that. It's why you wish for him to be nothing but happy, that there's some truth to the joy he constantly tries to radiate. Hoping some parts are really healing, that he's giving time to let the bloody wounds coagulate — if even just a little.

"It's me. I mean, I'm the one that's drunk," he reiterates, shaking his head.

"Why are you acting like that?"

"… Like what?"

Perhaps you were too hopeful.

"Like I'm making some sort of mistake. Like I'm wrong about this. About us."

And still under the influence of the too-damn-strong alcohol.

"It's… none of that, it's just…"

"You think I don't know what I'm talking about."

"Well, do you?" he fires back rather harshly, "'cause you're still wearing that thing and —"

You wince as his voice breaks off, palm instinctively flying to where the locket rests. "What the hell does that have to do with anything right now? I thought we were over this! Years ago!"

"Maybe you were since you continue to stubbornly follow me everywhere!"

"I'm not the only one!"

"Yeah, 'cause no one ever listens to me!"

"I always listen to you, Seok. Even if the words that come out of your mouth don't match how you actually feel —"

"You don't know how I feel!"

Silence.

Seokmin's chest heaves, wide eyes taking in how you immediately freeze. That look, oh, that look on your face could kill him and his body moves on auto-pilot to stand, directing his gaze to stare daggers into the floorboards. Begging them to rip off like a bandaid and shield him from your wrath.

The wood beneath his feet groans, shaking ever the slightest.

"You're right. How dare I?"

"Wait, mayfly… I —" he switches gears with a plea of your given name.

"And obviously, you have no fuckin' idea how I feel." Now it's your turn to let out a disingenuous chuckle, fake humor cracking under the pressure of sadness it's struggling to mask. "You think all I'm after is revenge more than the actual thought even crosses my mind. You put on this show that nothing bothers you, make assumptions that no one can keep up with you, that you can do it all on your own."

"No, that's not… that's not what I meant! You know how dangerous —"

You stumble ungracefully off the bed, flinching away when Seokmin's words break off as he automatically reaches out. For you. To support and for support.

Yet, it hurts all the more.

"But what do I even know? How can I, when you keep everyone at arm's length? It's like… it's like I don't even know who you are! Like you're someone else, someone I'll never get to understand…"

To others, it might not make sense, possibly the dumbest thing you could say — especially with the state you're in. But you know Seokmin, a fact he's subconsciously taken comfort in.

But you also know Seokmin. Which means you know the exact place to hit him where it hurts the most.

And suddenly, those words you say propel him back into a moment from the past, body free-falling in the sky.

Yelling. Crying. Screaming. Pleading.

Begging that exact phrase and being demanded of the same accusation. All from the one who's falling with him. Whose face mirrors his own, but couldn't be more different in that crucial and devastating moment.

His brother. His twin. His other half who was once his everything — now a total stranger from the person he thought he knew.

A fifty-year-old reunion that should've been a reconciliation, turned into a doomsday.

And for you, the once simple toothache pain is now overwhelming your full body and you refuse to let him see how it's dampened your cheeks. Especially when you hear the pained whisper of the name that escapes his mouth when you're the one that triggered those awful memories. Staggering to the door, you yank it open and he instinctually takes a step forward.

Don't leave me.

You hear the unspoken plea as clearly as if spoken aloud.

"Don't follow me," is what you hiss out instead, and just like when you first met, Seokmin obeys.

When Seungkwan makes room arrangements — if there is enough money to spare when needed and the options are available — he books everyone their own private space. More often than not though, he and Mingyu share a room and so do you and Seokmin.

Out of everyone in the group, you're the only one who is used to putting up with Seokmin's idiosyncrasies and the constant white noise of the cybernetic prosthetics's technology. You've rarely paid mind to having your own space unless Seokmin gets in one of those rare 150-year-old moods and wants some time by himself. Rare in nature, because he doesn't enjoy being left alone with his thoughts that threaten to consume him.

But he'll have to make due tonight. For the first time, you're extremely grateful for Seungkwan's pro-activeness.

You lock the door, crawl into a fresh cold bed, and wet a new pillow — one that lacks the comforting scent of gun smoke — with unshed tears.

For all his short-tempered and sassy mannerisms, Seungkwan is quite the worrywart. When the suns have peeked past the horizon and you're not already downstairs bullying Seungcheol, he's immediately knocking at your door and inquiring about your well-being. You assure him you're just hungover and he reluctantly leaves you be, likely picking up on how terrible you really do sound.

By high noon, Mingyu raps on the door next. He even sweetly offers to share his prized pudding in the hopes that you'll peek your head out. Though you appreciate it, you send him away, too — after reassuring the sensitive man you'll feel better after some rest.

Seungcheol doesn't miss the chance to be annoying times ten. He doesn't indulge in the effort of knocking, opting to make the floorboards squeal by pacing back and forth in front of the door. All the while, muttering this and that about "yer boy's like a pathetic dog and blah, blah, blah" until getting very kindly told to "fuck off!" and dragged back downstairs by a certain raven-haired insurance agent.

Even Seokmin checks in. Four times.

Once and then twice after you'd left and he'd figured out which room was yours. Then two more visits throughout the following day. He doesn't exactly make his presence known — but you know he knows you know he's out there.

If not by the distinct gait you've picked up on listening for after all this time, then by the hesitant thuds of combat boots lingering outside your door. Lost technology whirring with the action it takes to make a fist with his left hand, raising it up to the door and then back down again in self-inflicted defeat.

You refuse to see anyone, choosing to pity yourself first. Wallowing in your feelings and then sleeping as much of the heartache — and more so the hangover — away.

When the moons are visible in accordance to their nightly orbit, you get up to fuss with the mini VERnon in the room's corner. Nothing but static greets you. At the very least, the white noise is better than complete silence. By the time it's morning, you slowly awaken to the virtually enhanced radio trying to catch onto a faint signal. Enough to report the latest news in snippets with its mechanical voice.

"Beast… reported… Tonim town… !"

Your eyes fly open. Now is not the time to be wasting away. Donning a clean set of attire similar to what you wore into town — and with Sirocco strapped comfortingly to your thigh — you descend downstairs.

"Good morning!" Mingyu cheerfully greets with a delighted shout of your name and eagerly waves you over to sit next to him, waving around a promised cup of pudding. "Are you feeling better?"

"Mhm, thanks. Sorry about that, whiskey here sure is strong."

"'S one helluva killer," Seungcheol sulks across from you, still sporting a massive headache and looking worse than that one time Seungkwan hit him with the car.

"You're just weak."

"Wha'zat say 'bout you?"

"Since I can equally acknowledge both my strengths and weaknesses, that makes me infinitely stronger than you'll ever be."

Seungkwan wordlessly hands you a bowl and you graciously accept it. Next to the pastor sits Seokmin, unnaturally quiet. You don't even spare him a glance even though brown eyes burn into the side of your face until you glare his way.

The stack of doughnuts on the plate in front of him remain untouched — minus the smudged icing on one that was likely from Seungcheol trying to swipe it. Evidently, Seokmin was in low spirits if he didn't want to consume his favorite desserts. But, he is still prideful enough to prevent anyone else from snatching the prized delicacy.

How typical.

An awkwardness ensues, charged with an underlying current of tension. A vein forms in Seungkwan's forehead from his blood pressure rising.

Its pulse matches the twitch in the corner of his fake smile as he attempts to make conversation, to which Mingyu — oblivious and happy-go-lucky as ever, bless his heart — replies enthusiastically. Seungcheol stares listlessly into space, twirling a lollipop around and around with his tongue. Next to him is a soul acting like a thunderstorm's personally pouring over him. Seokmin starts pitifully poking at his grand doughnut pile while you ferociously tear into a piece of bread like it's the last supper before swallowing.

"Soonyoung's coming."

Your unexpected, but welcomed, interruption ironically pauses Seungkwan's second diatribe about Hansol's calamitous ingenuity. If possible, the apprehension in the room intensifies tenfold.

Seungkwan raises an eyebrow. "How'd you hear?"

"Tuned the VERnon last night."

"'Course you did."

"Something about the Beast and Tonim came through. Not for sure but…"

"It never hurts to be too prepared!"

"True, 'Gyu. 'N if Soonyoungie's gonna be there, ya know what that likely means…"

You nod in understanding at Seungcheol's implication. "The Crimsonnail."

Seokmin's jaw clenches at the name but it's the disgruntled pastor who continues speaking after a hearty and loud gulp of water. "'Course the Eye of Joshua's gonna send their best two. Soonyoungie's Hoon's eyes 'n ears for these kinda things."

"Or… it could be Jeonghan."

Your noncommittal remark receives Seungcheol's scathing glower. "Bet."

"It wouldn't be the first time," you shrug.

"There haven't been any notable disturbances and the ground's been stable. So hopefully their only goal is to simply antagonize us further."

Antagonize.

A funny word for such a twisted coin game between a hunter and the hunted. You can't and don't blame the younger Bernardelli agent — only you were privy to most of the true horrors Seokmin dealt with behind the scenes, Seungcheol a close second. And because of that, you were usually the one at his side before an encounter with Jihoon and the ever lingering threat and terror of said man's monstrous power.

But today, you get up from the table without so much as a glance in his direction. Only a parting command of "Let's regroup near the entrance at high noon," while Seungkwan and Mingyu exchange looks of minor distress.

The black-haired man in his hangover blues obnoxiously blows a raspberry as you leave.

Later, there are two solid knocks on the door as you get ready. You know who it is before the door swings open after your agreeable hum to enter. Many may be intimidated at the sight of the silver weapon in your gloved hands. Seungkwan and Mingyu make up half of the quartet who aren't.

They take a seat on the bed as you purse your lips at the reflection in the dusty mirror. Then you fuss with the strap for your gun. Satisfyingly re-securing it around your thigh before throwing a carmine trench coat over tight kevlar that covers almost every inch of skin possible.

"Surprised you didn't dye everything else black during a fit of rage."

Your lips curl upwards. "How on Gunsmoke would I manage that?"

"With the way you're acting, 'hell hath no fury like a woman scorned…' or so the saying goes."

"Really, 'Kwan?"

"I'm an avid supporter of women's rights and especially their wrongs."

"Sure you are."

"You would absolutely look dashing!"

"Thanks, Mingyu. Should've given my color scheme a little more consideration."

"But then you wouldn't have achieved such an infamous moniker. I mean, okay. Maybe the black plague killed tons of Earthlings eons ago but it doesn't have the same ring as 'Sirocco, the bloody rain that follows after the humanoid typhoon'…"

Seungkwan allegedly graduated at the top of his class, leave it to him to spew out all kinds of random facts that you know nothing about. You huff and adjust the brim of the large hat atop your head.

"All that does is make me cringe."

"Uh-huh, so what's making him act like that?"

"Who's acting like what?"

"Fine, keep playing dumb. Did you reject Seokmin or something?"

Mingyu gasps. Dramatically. Hands on cheeks and mouth open in a wide 'o' shape, puppy-dog eyes glistening with despair.

"There's no way!"

"I don't want to talk about it."

"Uh-huh."

"Besides, nothing happened so don't think you're gonna wheedle out of me whether you're going to win that stupid bet you two have going with Choi."

"Eh, don't worry. I've been out of the running for a while now, unfortunately."

"The hell did you even throw for?"

He shoots you a deadpan look. "Guess who's aged eighty years watching the two of you dance around each other like dumbasses? Could've sworn you'd be married with a toma farm or a dozen little children by now."

"It's your own damn fault for falling victim to that pastor's salacious schemes. And it's not even remotely like that, so…"

"Someone just doesn't wanna give in."

You stomp your foot, frustration boiling over. "Ugh, I'm never drinking again!"

"Wait… No fucking way…!"

"Literally shut up, Boo."

"I mean Choi did bet you'd confess and you know… get intimate afterwards… if you were drunk so…"

"Oh, so that's why he was so damn pushy last night."

"Dirty cheater."

"You expect anything less from someone like him?"

A sigh. "No."

It's a well-known fact that Seungcheol would rather stoke the flames of hell than ever needlessly dabble with holy water as one might be expected to with his chosen career.

"But judging by both of your moods, evidently nothing happened." The raven-haired man really has the gall to look disappointed that no one won yet pleased Seungcheol didn't, and the gall to point out the obvious. "Anyways, what did you bet on, Mingyu?"

"Don't recall!"

"Figures." Seungkwan's face falls flat against his palm with a groan before dragging it wearily down his face. "Whatever, it's not like it's that serious. Seriously," he adds on, feeling the burn of your perpetual glower. "Don't let it weigh on your mind. We need you fully focused."

"And when have I ever been less than what's expected of me?" You hold up a hand. "Wait! Don't answer. But really, worry more about that idiot."

"Aw, see? You still care!"

"… About that sixty billion bounty, Mingyu? Yeah."

"Sure you do."

"And truthfully, I was talking about Choi, 'Kwan."

"Well, both of them always get into those zany headspaces!"

You shrug at the tall man's truthfulness. "They're both holding a lot of trauma and baggage."

"And you aren't?" Seungkwan snorts with sarcasm dripping from the dig.

"At least mine's manageable. And… hasn't threatened your lives yet."

"As far as we know."

"In fact, I think I've saved your 'so-very-untraumatized' lives more often than not. Stay with me and you'll both be okay."

They good-naturedly give you individual looks of disdain. Perfectly in sync when you accompany that last statement with a devilish smirk and a twirl that flares out your tail coat with a flourish. By no means are they incapable. Clumsy Mingyu can adeptly wield his massive concussion gun when it counts, of course, and Seungkwan stealthily hides several derringer 'throwaway' pistols under his white cloak that he can fire with deadly precision.

Nonetheless, they loyally flank to your side when Tonim's bell tower signifies the hour of high noon has struck. Seungcheol meets the three of you outside the door of the saloon, smoking a cigarette and one arm lazily draped over the Punisher — a terrifying machine gun mockingly designed in the burdening shape of a merciful cross.

You spot Seokmin up ahead. He's standing on the low border wall near the town's entrance, perched next to a pillar for back support with the heel of his boot propped up behind him. Decked out in the usual galaxy ensemble, purple fabric cut off at shoulder-length of the top left sleeve to allow free range of movement for his prosthesis. His hair's slightly gelled up for a more intimidating and dramatic flair and it almost makes you giggle.

But there's that stern gaze focused on the horizon, likely able to see far out into the distance through those amber lenses the human eye can't quite decipher. Despite such a hardened resolve, his head tilts slightly up toward the blue sky with a faint smile on his lips — an honoring appreciation for the beauty and wonder of life despite its inevitable horrors.

Seungcheol clicks his tongue to get your attention while Seungkwan and Mingyu keep walking ahead. "Spiky Hair thinks he's really gonna do it?"

"Won't stop until he's tried every last resort."

"Even if it kills 'im?"

"Even if it kills him."

"This damned situation 'cause of ya know who."

"Dokyeom. DK."

"Nah, nah. There's the asinine version, eh?"

"Absolute pain in my ass?"

He slaps his knee. "Ah, aye… good one! But nah, 's really stupid one, Deathly, uh, er…?"

"… Deadly Knives?"

"Pfft, yeah, 's that one. So, we gotta try 'n stop one genocidal brother from sweepin' out the whole human race 'n tryna convince greedy humans not to keep exploitin' 'em with the other. Back 'n forth again 'n again. I swear…'s only ever gonna be impossible."

"What makes you think it can't happen?"

He looks at you like you're stupid. Maybe you are. But what does that make him? "Both sides — humans versus DK — think they're right 'n too proud to think otherwise."

"So you don't think they'll settle for a compromise. Or at least try to see the other's viewpoint?"

"Hell naw. Ain't no compromisin' when both think they're justified in what they're doin'."

"Well, regardless — you joined a good cause, Choi. World could use a little more peace and love, don't you think?"

He grunts. "Lookit who's corrupted yer ideologies. Don'tcha know what destroyed Earth?"

"And do you know what saved humans? Kindness. Hope. Empathy. Compassion. Change. Making and being the difference. The good kind."

A long time ago, maybe in a different twist of fate, you might've staunchly agreed with Seungcheol. But despite it all, you've been somewhat changed — or like the pastor said, call it a corruption of sorts — by Seokmin's unwavering sense of positivity and kindness no matter how bleak the future.

You admired him. Truly.

"Un-fuckin'-'lievable."

Seungcheol shakes his head as if he's not gearing up, ready and raring to go as he stomps forward to join a fellow 'brother-in-arms'. The thought inwardly makes you smile with affection until you remember you're actually, in fact, mad at Seokmin.

A dust cloud stirs up on the horizon, steadily growing closer to where you stand.

"You're so full of goddamn self-flagellation."

The individual where all your ire is centered on jolts, doing a double-take at your sudden but familiar presence by his side approaching. Or maybe it was the mere fact you were talking to him again. A warm expression overtakes his facial features at the sense of calm that automatically relaxes the tension in his muscles as he looks down at you.

"Well then, hello to you too. Feeling better, mayfly?"

"… Remind me to never drink again."

"I told you —"

"Yeah, yeah." You wave away his nagging and step up on the wall to stand next to him. "Don't worry, I won't be making a mistake like that again."

"… Mistake?"

There's an edge to his tone. Searching. Sometimes you hate how perceptive Seokmin can be. Though he actively acts oblivious and carefree, it's usually a ploy to lower other's guard.

You wonder how long he's known.

So, you sigh. "I'm talking about drinking, of course. And… I wish I could say I forgot even if… I haven't. But it's fine, I know where I stand."

The latter part of your sentence trails off. It's true though. You do know — thankful you can even be next to Seokmin. You might not be with him but at the very least, your place will always be somewhere by his side. Affectionate flings may be sought elsewhere. But they're always temporary. In your heart of hearts, you know you're irreplaceable to him.

And that's going to have to be good enough for you.

The man in question scratches the back of his head. "It's not… it's not like that. I know I fucked up."

"Stop." You grip at his prosthetic, knowing despite how sensitive the sensors are, they won't be able to pick up how you slightly tremble. "It's okay. Really."

Who is it you're trying to reassure?

"Mayfly," Seokmin murmurs. "Look at me."

With the slightest hesitation, your gaze finally rises from its focal point centered on his boots and the stones beneath to meet dark brown eyes. The ache in the gunslinger's chest eases just a little. It's been far too long — a day, in actuality — since he's got to lose himself among the vibrant hues of your irises and he squeezes your free hand in gratitude.

"It's not okay, I want to talk to you. Sober. But…"

"I get it. Now's not the time for a heart-to-heart, especially not in front of your brother's henchmen."

You laugh, for real this time. The sight is breathtaking; it makes Seokmin's eyes crinkle, a fond smile to accompany his affection as he leans in closer to you to whisper a sweet, "Thank you."

Three sets of eyes try to make it very not obvious that they're very obviously totally not watching the overdue interaction with bated breath.

"Oh golly good, they've made up!"

"'Course they would."

"It's about time, I couldn't take the tension anymore."

"Don'tcha think it'll get worse once they start canoodlin'?"

"Good lord," Seungkwan groans, "perish the thought."

"What's wrong with a little love? Yay for love!"

"Well, I don't think they've made it that far yet. But we're getting there. Baby steps."

It would be a good cause for celebration, a resumption of last night's festivities. Unfortunately, the merry moment is cut short with a screech of brakes, signaling the arrival of Jihoon, DK's most elite performer in his unmerry band of henchmen.

Next to the feared Crimsonnail's suitcase sits Soonyoung the Beast. Silver strands peek out behind the unsettling, bug-like circular mask hiding his face. He casually waves, acting like the unnerving discovery behind the innocent, abandoned child — who went by Hoshi — was simply a facade initially put on around your group and not such a grand revelation.

Having sorted that out in the stomach of a giant flying worm serving as a hive mind for Gunsmoke's legion of its original inhabitants and swearing not to let your guard down again, all five of you remain on high alert.

Jihoon's steel-colored eyes flicker to Seungcheol. "Hello there, Undertaker. Or… should I say Judas?"

"Howdy dandy to ya too, ya son of a bitch," the pastor snarls, spitting his cigarette in their direction. Cursing under his breath when the distance and uselessness of the fizzling stub doesn't blow up the engine like he wishes it would.

"Now, now. You don't want to make me mad, do you?"

"Kinda wanna piss ya off as much as ya piss me off, yeah."

"Surely you know what —"

"He means nothing by it." You'd quickly abandoned your post next to Seokmin to place a hand on Seungcheol's taut shoulder. Boldly facing the blonde man's haughty expression with one that's hopefully placating enough on behalf of your comrade. "He's just grumpy because he's still hungover."

"Well, well… if it isn't the humanoid typhoon's little blood shower."

Ugh, you inwardly grimace, why the fuck does everyone have such unflattering nicknames for me?

"Still following him around, I see."

"'S a lot comin' from —"

" — Hasn't gotten rid of me yet!"

"… Seems it," Jihoon sniffs and cocks his head. "Similar to the dilemma I have with this persistent bug."

Soonyoung chortles, neck contorting at an unnatural angle to peer at the driver. "You love me."

"You're delusional."

"Why are you here?"

Seokmin's question comes sharp and pointed like a dagger, a far cry from his usual demeanor. His tone remains detached. Aloof. Vaguely accusatory. Unlike your harried action to cover for Seungcheol, you don't dare divert attention away from the gunslinger who stalks forward after elegantly hopping down from his perch. Despite an outwardly calm demeanor, there's an underlying urgency in his gait that's threatening to snap.

"For amusement. A show, if you will."

"One that's not even orchestrated by Joshua's freakish cult powers!"

Out of all the males surrounding you, you're not sure exactly who growls at the Beast's mere mention of the devil-like figurehead — in fact, it could've been all of them — but there's one noise that rings out above the din of it all.

Click!

You don't need super-hearing to pick up that telltale sound. Not when every person over the age of eighteen in Tonim has a cocked gun trained on each member of your ragtag gang.

"Uh, so… how many times is this?"

"One too fuckin' many," you answer Seungkwan with a petulant hiss and reluctantly mimic him by putting your hands up in the air.

Jihoon cackles. "And when will you fools ever learn?"

"'S my question, actually," the pastor nonchalantly calls over his shoulder, directed at the town's ringleader. "Didn't know ya had it in ya, boy."

You didn't think Wonwoo had it in him either, to be honest. But that's not something you were going to mention aloud with the shaky hold the bespectacled man has on the firearm waveringly aimed at his target — the one whose head is worth a 60 billion double dollars bounty, dead or alive.

"Felnarl. Jeneora Rock. Descartes. Dankin."

There's a faint twitch in one of Seokmin's eyebrows. Seungcheol rolls his eyes, sarcastically muttering under his breath an addition of location names, "Voldoor, Inepril, December, Lewiston…" and Mingyu joins in on the fun with a cheerful, "New Miami!"

Seungkwan watches warily and your jaw clenches. You can feel your teeth grind together in annoyance as Wonwoo's smarmy sneer grows smugger.

"And now, Tonim Town. What?" he jeers, seizing the chance to use the man's silence as a way to ridicule him. "Don't recognize what you've laid waste to? Must I bring up the big ones to jog your memory a little, like the city of July and Augusta or the hole in the fifth moon?"

"Why you —"

Enragement propels you a step forward, but the barrel swinging your way halts your next move mid-step. The sullen look on Wonwoo's face surprisingly holds no malice. He looks saddened, if anything, but you can't bring yourself to feel too much sympathy with the rifle he's now pointed toward you.

"You forgot one."

"Pardon?"

Seokmin's voice is hardly more than a whisper yet it rings out loud and clear amid the tense silence and stillness. "I said, you forgot one. There's not a name of any place or person I'd ever forget. I'm well aware of the ones you're talking about… and more. However, there's somewhere I won't ever forget that no one will ever know existed."

"… Huh?"

"Little Ivywood."

Wonwoo seems so taken aback and the pause unwittingly allows your eyes to drift over to meet Seokmin's brown ones. There are so many emotions conveyed in the sidelong glance — a mixture of regret-filled feelings yet ever so soft — and it lasts a second too long to snap the befuddled aggressor out of his reverie.

"Oh… I see." He pushes up his glasses, the lenses glinting in the pale sunlight like a typical anime villain. The long gun lowers to the ground the same time as he throws back his head to let out a bitter laugh. "So that's how it is! All you do is take and take and take, Lee. Destroy, destroy, destroy; again and again and again!"

"Aye, ole chap's gone off his rocker."

"You've made an ally out of a would-be, should-be enemy and think other victims with their pain and grief don't exist?!"

"Wow," Seungkwan wrinkles his nose in disgust, "yeah… he's gone completely insane."

Mingyu hums in agreement. "A little unhinged! Off the rocks! Unstable even! When can I knock him out?"

You'd love to give the gentle giant the go-ahead. Really. But even so…

"Damn you —"

"Stop it."

The townspeople's uncertainty and hesitance tells you all you need to know, especially when Wonwoo's hysteria leaves them even more perplexed. After years of handling a gun like a second arm, you can spot inexperience and fear of handling a dangerous weapon the second someone is near one. You lower your arms and step forward once more, confidence growing when he makes no move to threaten you further.

"You don't want this."

The corner of his mouth quirks upward, a rueful smile. "You know, I thought we really did share some camaraderie."

"We do."

"Yet you gallivant around with a monster like that?"

"He's not a monster."

"I should've known better, really, when the VERnons said you're the sirocco that follows after the humanoid typhoon. Heroes, my ass! I don't get it, how could you do that to others after what happened to you?"

To us?

It remains unspoken yet you can hear the intent of the accusingly barbed question. Two survivors of a wrecked hometown. Shared camaraderie hadn't been a lie. Even now as you meet the flickering fire in Wonwoo's eyes with a blazing flame in your own, all you can see is a reflection of your past and what you could've turned into in a possible future.

A cold gleam returns to his gaze as he takes your silence as defiance. Or maybe even shamelessness. "How could you turn a blind eye to such a bloody warpath of destruction when you know too well of the tragedy that's left behind?!"

"Isn't that what you're doing?"

"… Excuse me?"

"That's what all of you are doing right now," you declare loudly and some of Tonim's residents whose conscience stings have the decency to avert their eyes. Awareness of their actions seem to weigh down on them, guns lowering ever the slightest and the awkwardness encourages Seungkwan to speak up.

"We would've left peacefully tomorrow."

"But yer actions're gonna be the very cause of the destruction yer tryin' so damn hard to prevent."

"Because you took a bribe!"

There's a stilted, horrified, and collective gasp, so you try to remedy Mingyu's exclamation.

"It's because you let your malice sway you. Tell me, Jeon. What all did you lose?"

"My whole town. Then my parents. Almost my life and nearly Lina's too. My lover…"

"And your sense of self. Plus, the new life you've created here — and those things? Almost lost because of your own accord. Why would you destroy the few good things you're granted?"

Wonwoo's eyebrows scrunch as his face tenses. Your heart goes out to him despite everything, hoping to get your point across as you continue speaking.

"That doesn't negate the losses. The grief. The pain. It never goes away but… you can choose to clean out the wound, put some salve on it, and bandage it or let it fester and infect your body 'til it rots even your soul."

You can hear the shift in the sand as Seokmin approaches to stand next to you. He regards Wonwoo with a kind smile and the understanding, crescent-shaped squint of his eyes is like a punch to the other man's gut.

"…. I —"

" — It's your choice, Jeon. What did they offer you? Money? There are so many bets on July's militia lying about the payout. I mean, c'mon, there's no way a ruined city would have the funds."

"Yer Plant's no longer in red status, so ya won't need to barter no more."

"I'll throw in a better deal — let us go and I'll have Choi marry you and Sherry, free of charge."

His cheeks flush and you inwardly gloat, instincts right on the money. Seungcheol's jaw drops, absolutely flabbergasted, and the townsfolk exchange a few knowing snickers.

"If it's protection you need, we can figure that out too," Seokmin recovers and offers in a low voice. "And if Do — er, Knives — or his gang approached you with a deal, just know that they never hold up their end of the bargain."

"You're lucky you threatened us first. DK's side is a little too slash-happy and trigger-loving to resort to verbal methods. They're the ones you'd want to go after anyways, you see, this man and Knives are twins if you don't look close enough, they're eerily similar at the strangest moments. So the real story is that it's all just spiraled out of control."

"You mean…"

"I won't deny responsibility." Seokmin admits sternly. "It's true that I've wreaked devastation to many towns. Failed to save the people I swore to protect."

"But DK keeps forcing his hand to get Seok to join his genocidal cause. And every time he refuses to do so, his brother throws a tantrum and well, knives go flying everywhere. Literally."

"He's a little…" The gunslinger searches for the right word — and finding that there is none — cringes. "Dramatic."

You stare at him, aghast. "He cut your arm off!"

Wonwoo pales, swallows, and then grimaces, daring to ask, "So… I've had it wrong the whole time?"

"I guess not entirely." You shrug, also guilty as charged years ago. "And obviously not the first."

"And certainly not the last," Seungkwan pipes up.

The bespectacled man looks down at the ground. "I don't… I don't know… Do I even deserve this kind of treatment? This… mercy?"

"No."

With such a blunt answer, Seokmin's quick to protest with an admonishment of your name while Seungkwan and Mingyu suppress smiles at your straightforwardness. Seungcheol freely chuckles, lighting a cigarette.

And Wonwoo's face falls as remorse hits all over again.

"But," you smirk, "what have I told you?"

"Oh, ah… why destroy the few good things life grants me?"

"Good. You were listening. We might get along just fine, after all." You send him a teasing wink. "Camaraderie and all that be damned."

A sheepish look overtakes the man's previously hardened features. And suddenly he's laughing with his head thrown back like earlier, but this time it's with an unrestrained amount of joy. Relief. Hope.

"The ticket to the future is always blank, Wonwoo." Seokmin extends a hand and the other man takes it, the small grin on his face turning into a full-blown smile.

"Guns down, Tonim town. The rest of you, come on out! Let's celebrate!" He calls out to everyone, gesturing for your group to follow. "Drinks are on me to make up for this whole mess. I'm sorry for getting you all involved."

You turn around toward Seokmin, elation written all over your face that he readily mirrors. Just as you're about to grab his hand as he reaches out at the same time, there's a slow, loud handclap that sets off mental warning sirens blaring all over again.

"Conflict resolution. How very touching."

The velvety voice is deceivingly sweet. But beneath the dulcet tones lies a raw and wicked strength. It rings out clearly, even more so when the jubilant mood abruptly dies down as a new figure approaches.

"Aw, c'mon Joshie! Just when it was gettin' good!" Soonyoung whines and you belatedly realize you forgot all about the real enemies at the entrance gate, thinking they had grown bored and left.

"What about that was 'getting good'?"

The Beast huffs at Jihoon's surly attitude, more than likely pouting beneath his mask. "Was really lookin' forward to those free drinks…"

"We don't need drinks and we don't need you, Josh."

If there's one commonality between the adversary and your group, it's the shared disdain for the elegant-looking man dressed in all black fabrics with shiny leather buckles, and slicked-back locks to match.

"Hm. But I think you do."

Chilling ochre-colored eyes couldn't be bothered to look at you, drifting past you and Seokmin like you were nothing more than the grains of sand littering every surface on Gunsmoke. And like a marionette, your head automatically swivels to follow his line of sight, blood draining from your face when you realize what he's looking at.

Lina.

She breaks away from holding onto Sheryl's hand after they emerge from the saloon, bounding toward her brother with excitement all over her face. The arm that isn't supporting his firearm extends gallantly outward, ready to welcome her with a hug as he strolls to meet her halfway.

They're smiling at one another with so much adoration after the intensity from earlier. If you weren't fucking terrified, you'd wish Dokyeom was also there to see how pure a sibling relationship and affection should be.

Instead, your stomach lurches, and Seokmin hisses beside you. With your back turned, you can't see Joshua but you're sure he's smirking when Wonwoo's frame stiffens, body jerking as it moves beyond his control.

Hastily, he's cocking the rifle with expert ease and assuming the perfect position to fire it, something he previously displayed no knowledge on before. Wide eyes have no choice but to peer down the scope and he chokes at how it's unforgivingly aimed directly at his little sister.

She skids to a halt, ten paces away. Hesitant. Wary. Puzzled.

"… Wonu?"

It all plays out in slow motion as you reach for Sirocco, simultaneously screaming out to your friends to alert them and provide cover. Frantic panic swirls in the air like a sandstorm at the turn of events, but even more fear generates when the townspeople can do nothing but helplessly succumb to their limbs moving on their own too.

Despite every single effort and all of his muscles straining not to do it, Wonwoo's pointer finger on the trigger pulls back. It doesn't matter how much he struggles to fight for control, his body refuses to listen. Tears flow from his eyes even though he can't speak, can't yell, can't beg for forgiveness — the vehement sense of horror is the only thing able to overpower Joshua's terrifying control, leaking out a salty excess.

Bang!

Bang!

Bang!

Three gunshots ring out at the same time. You fire right before Wonwoo does and Seokmin follows two seconds later. Not because his reaction time is slower. But because he could see and calculate where the bullet's headed after you changed its trajectory by shooting at Wonwoo's barrel.

It doesn't end there.

Seokmin is a half-step closer to Lina and can move at an inhumane speed, diving into a tuck-and-roll to reach her moments before the residents have no choice but to open fire too.

You know he's fast enough to dodge bullets at close range, but the staggered distance spread out among all of those present in the town's square works little for that insane advantage. Instead, the skilled combatant focuses all his attention on shielding Lina beneath the loose flaps of his impenetrable trench coat. She clings tightly to his leg, whimpering.

"Don't worry, I'll protect you."

Continuing to mutter reassurances, he pats her fluffy brown hair with an unshaking cybernetic palm while the other rapidly points his revolver upwards to deflect a bullet that might've been lucky enough to shatter the bridge of his glasses. Then doing the same to one at five o'clock on his right. He angles his body this way and that as if a puppeteer is yanking the strings connected to his limbs to the perverse beat of an unheard tune. The few he misses land harmlessly against the thick kevlar material you're all wearing.

Meanwhile, your steady hand supports the familiar weight of Sirocco. Muscle memory aids you with cocking the gun as you run. Aiming at the closest group of people near them and then — bang!, bang!, bang! — snipe off the barrels on their guns in rapid succession, rendering them useless.

From behind, something flies past your face and nicks the top of your ear — one of the few places unprotected by bulletproof material — causing you to hiss. Scowling over your shoulder, you squint in the direction it came from.

While a complete bastard, Seungcheol is also the most resourceful ray of hope in a shootout like this. The Punisher's automatic artillery relentlessly fires shot after shot, destroying old and weather-beaten guns like they're empty, crushable soda cans. It's faster too. The trigger-happy pastor twirls it around maniacally, taking only the slightest care to not actually kill anyone.

You're a hundred percent sure it's because of Joshua's disturbing power that allows him to reanimate corpses rather than Seokmin's "Thou shalt not kill" lecture and pacifist philosophies that keeps the supposed 'god-fearing' man from snuffing out anyone's life this time around. Despite the bullets whizzing around, you know he'll fare alright with that healing serum of his — just as long as he doesn't overdose on it.

Mingyu rushes over to stand back-to-back with the pastor, x-shaped claws firing out of his 'stun-gun' and immobilizing many of his targets with ease. You can't help but grimace though, wondering if they'll sustain more brain damage from Joshua's nefarious telepathy or a well-meaning concussion that leaves them unconscious and no longer posing a threat. A solid steel object flies past the brown-haired man's head, knocking down the mind-controlled person who was trying to sneak up on him using a blind spot.

"Ooh, thanks, Seungkwan!"

"Pay attention, you blockhead!"

An empty derringer lays at said blockhead's feet and Mingyu kicks it away with a childlike glee. A brand-new loaded pistol is already in Seungkwan's right hand even as he throws away the one in his left toward someone approaching Seungcheol. The young man's never empty-handed for long because with another flashy twirl from out of his cloak and a new handgun is cocked, aimed, and fired.

Despite the distance and conditions, all three work together like clockwork. Different shaped and sized cogs all interconnected to succeed without causing too much harm. And you know you must play your part as well, turning your attention back to the few townsfolk that remain.

"Seokmin, switch!"

It's not like he needs the heads-up. The way you'd both been inching closer to each other every time your gun's fired already issued the forewarning. It's like a subtle tango performed by two fierce allies surrounded by deadly enemies. If you didn't know better, it's similar to an intricate sword dance.

But you knew how dangerous it was to play with knives.

The swift transfer of Lina's warm little body into your arms is a welcome comfort. Seokmin sends you a dazzling smile, one full of confidence at a successful swap.

"Hey there, pretty girl," you coo and your gloved thumb wipes away one of the tear trails cutting through the dirt smudges on her face. "You are so, so, so brave and I'm so, so, so proud of you."

"He," she sniffles, "my… my… br-brother. W-Wonu!"

Pressing a kiss to her forehead, you turn her to face the other way. "Everything's going to fine. I promise. Now, run to Seungcheol. He'll keep you safe while the rest of us finish this."

Seungkwan and Mingyu had effectively disarmed everyone on their end and now worked on dragging the town's unconscious residents inside the saloon and attending to any wounds. The pastor stood guard near the entrance with his Punisher staked firmly into the sandy ground. Although empty of ammunition, the machine gun still served a purpose as a great defender with its imposing cross shape.

With the target assuredly safe — out of sight, out of mind — the control Joshua has over those remaining falters and starts to lose its effect. In the brief lull, Seokmin dashes ahead to deliver a flying kick that helpfully unsheathes the dagger hidden in the sole of his boots, demolishing one more firearm in someone's grip before it can be used again.

Bang!

Bang!

And with Sirocco's precision, the last two are destroyed as well. You match your comrade's grin and turn triumphantly to where the instigators still stand at the entrance.

There would be no casualties today. You and your comrades would make sure of that.

Joshua, stoic as ever, surveys the aftermath with an air of unbothered gracefulness. Jihoon fumes next to him. Panic spikes when Soonyoung can't be spotted at first until you spy him curled up in the car's front seat — asleep.

You fist bump Seokmin in high spirits. Then fearlessly meet a pair of deep orange eyes devoid of any emotion or warmth, a shift occurs in your smile. Confidence and satisfaction hone the corners of your mouth into a daring smirk and something about the bold taunt causes a rare flicker of humor to cross Joshua's lips. Whether it's scornful pity or simple mockery, you don't have time to figure it out because Jihoon snaps.

Nails.

Several of them fly through the air and their wielder's formidable namesake comes from the daunting color that makes the multitude of piercers look like thin streaks of blood against the pale blue sky. The spikes as long as spears are all fired from Jihoon's large suitcase-turned-crossbow that aims just shy of your left side.

Those steel eyes of his are as sharp as their color. The malice within them feels suffocating, so strong and heavy that it sucks all the breath straight out of your lungs. Only the pain from a nail grazing your cheek is enough to pull your attention away from drowning in the unnerving emotion and you put a hand up to the laceration to soothe the sting.

Wetness oozes from your skin, an unsettling feeling of sliminess accompanying the touch. Puzzled, your fingers retract and you ponder the sheer amount of red viscoelastic fluid coating them. There's so much of it pooling that droplets fall to the sand below while others dribble down past your wrist and under your sleeve, the stain blending right in with the fabric of your coat.

Drip.

"It's all your fault!"

Drip.

"Their blood is on your hands…"

Drip.

"Don't you feel guilty?"

Drip.

"Don't you feel responsible?"

Drip.

"Do you regret being the only one left to live?"

Drip.

Faces you know and voices you cannot recall overlap and echo. Unfamiliar frowning expressions and intonations you remember as once gentle now ridicule, belittle, and find every crack in your well-made armor. Insidious whispers weave inside, entangling themselves within the fragile support structures of your mind and very soul. They point and cackle to one another at such a sorry sight, only for you to realize you're angrily jabbing a pointer finger at your worthless reflection with those cursory words coming straight out of your own mouth.

Drip.

Your head turns robotically, like an early prototype of the lost technology Earthlings created. This time it's Sheryl who's the victim, helplessly well within the trajectory line of Jihoon's rage. Every muscle aches, weighed down by exhaustion. Your shoulder burns. Yet you still somehow find the strength within you to rush toward her, especially hearing Lina's desperate wail as she's held back by a grimacing Seungcheol.

Drip.

Like a comet, Seokmin blazes past. He skids to a stop, effectively shielding the woman right before impact. You're too slow to move. In fact, it feels like an out-of-body experience. As if you're nothing but a hologram inside the floating ship — an artificial intelligence projection with no other choice but to witness the horrors and observe tangible objects scuttle towards their inevitable doom without interference. You're left with no choice but to simply watch as the nails are propelled through the air with the intent to strike.

Drip.

Someone's screaming. Maybe it's you.

Drip.

The nails impale Seokmin without mercy. Strike after strike, they pierce straight through the material of his coat designed to repel only bullets and plunge deep within the muscles beneath his skin. One after the other. So many of them stick out of the man's backside like the skeletal bone formation for wings. He slumps to his knees, falling on top of a bewildered but unharmed Sheryl. When he only lays still with no further action, you're struck with the dreadful knowledge that he may never move again and it fills you with an unfathomable maelstrom of raw grief and anger.

Drip.

Suddenly, you're no longer drowning in invisible quicksand and can move freely again. There's zero hesitation in your now fluid movements — not even when the blond-haired man poises his crossbow directly at you this time. Pulling out the spare gun hidden near your hip, you blast the airborne spikes flying towards you without hesitation.

Bang!

Bang!

Bang!

Bang!

Bang!

Bang!

More fall than you shoot. The anger, pain, and grief you wield is enough to tear them apart like they're nothing but worm larvae helplessly caught in a sandstorm. You stalk forward through the crimson ire that relentlessly strikes down, clearing a path that's littered with broken, twisted, and dented nails before resolutely aiming point-blank at Jihoon's forehead.

Click.

More people are screaming and the spiteful cacophony in your mind resumes. But your ears feel like they're filled with cotton and this time you're stuck underwater. Your chest rises and falls, trying and failing to collect yourself.

"… out of it!"

"Hyperventialing -"

"Goddamn it! Get ahold o'yerself, woman!"

The Crimsonnail sneers.

Your cheek stings.

The dissonance reminds you of the wound from before. But this time it feels like a sting, as if someone slapped you — albeit rather gently. Numb, you halt in place and cautiously raise your hand back to your surprisingly unmarred face. But rather than skin, you grasp onto something solid. Something familiar. Something kind. Something loving. Something safe. Something warm. Something that's yours — always has been and always will be.

Someone.

And then… you open your eyes — and find yourself staring directly into Seokmin's sparkling brown ones.

"Y-you're dead," you manage to choke out in disbelief and his eyes incredulously crinkle into half-moons at the statement to hide the tears brimming in them.

The soothing hand caressing your cheek moves to wrap around the barrel of the gun you're pressing to his forehead and he smiles disarmingly. As if what you just said was the funniest thing ever.

"I know, mayfly."

Part 2 | Read the whole thing on AO3

onlyseokmins: April 2024 ©

[whirlwindimagines]

hello! i was wondering if you could write something where the reader is upset and crying (i wanted to originally ask if it could be a panic attack but i wasnt sure if you were comfortable with that) and vash is at a lost of how to help them so he just presses his forehead agaisnt theirs just like he does when he's helping plants and to his surprise it works?

The way I gasped when I read this I love this so much! I used to have panic attacks lol I don’t mind writing mild ones. Also sorry I haven't been posting much ;p; I've been slowly getting ready for my trip, and work has been something! I'll try to crank more out lol

‘I don't have much to say’

Vash x Reader

You're thankful to have some time to yourself, being in a cramped car with so many other people, good be suffocating, not that you didn’t mind the company for the most part…it was just a lot.

So, when Meryl said she was tired of driving and wanted to camp out for the night, you were the first to agree! Once camp had been set up, you can feel that overwhelming feeling. Not wanting to be a bother you mention you’re going for a quick walk, and that you won’t wander far.

Choosing to ignore the concerned look Vash gives you, instead leaving to head out into the dunes. Making sure to keep the camp at least in someone what sight, you managed to find a boulder heading to the other side for some privacy you sit in the sand.

Trying to count your breaths in and out, digging your hands in the sand to ground yourself, doing everything possible to not let your thoughts race. It’s hard to even know what set this off, it’s pathetic. With that thought you know your crying, placing your hands over your mouth to muffle the sobbing. 

Not knowing how long you’ve been sitting out, your startled when a gentle hand is placed on your shoulder, breath hitching and looking up in surprise you’ve come face to face with Vash. He is on his knees beside you, a look of such concern in his eyes your mind registers his lips moving, but your ears are ringing so loud, feeling humiliated that he’s found you in such a weak state. 

The thought makes you sob more, wrapping your arms around yourself to appear smaller, Vash’s eyes widen as he looks up you, unsure how to help, but wanting too so desperately. Your clearly in pain, and he doesn’t have a clue on what to do to help.

But Vash needs to help, it’s his nature so with a thought he reaches for you with gentle hands, cupping your face with one warm and one cool hand he touches his forehead to yours in such a gentle way you nearly forget how to breathe. His eyes are closed while yours are wide open.

“It’s okay I’m here” Vash says it’s so quietly you nearly miss it, having to steady your breaths, but the feeling of his hands on your face and him being so close is just so comforting that you close your eyes breathing in his scent. You don't know how long the two of you continue to sit there simply existing with each other. 

It helps, more than you could ever imagine, pressing closer to Vash as you close your eyes. “Thank you.” You feel as if those words aren't enough, that you’ll never be able to describe the pure gratitude you have towards Vash at this moment. You feel Vash’s rub his thumbs over the top of your cheeks, the motion is smoothing and continues to help ground you.

“You don't need to thank me…whenever you need me, I’ll be there.” your breath hitches at his words, feeling his breath ghost over your lips, opening your eyes just to take a peek at his face, your surprises that his are now open and he’s looking at you with an unreadable expression, his blue eyes so kind. 

Your eyes soften looking at him, he pulls back a bit to place a kiss on your forehead before pulling you completely into his arms. You know all your problems aren’t solved, and you have your worries and anxieties, but you let yourself enjoy this moment here with Vash.

[possiblyreallyme]

Hello, I would like to know if you can create a headcanon for Trigun Stampede (1998) featuring Vash and a reader who is a tsundere and is in love with him but doesn't want to admit it?

Explanation of tsundere: A tsundere is a character who initially shows a cold, arrogant, or aggressive personality but gradually reveals a more caring and gentle side, especially towards someone they have romantic feelings for. This term is very common in anime and manga.

I love this idea! thank you for the request!! this is my first time doing a headcanon or a request, so I'm sorry if it isn't very good😅 also, I tried writing it in a gender-neutral way but each time it turned out pretty clunky, so I settled for writing it with a female reader. I hope that was okay, and if not, just tell me and I can re-write it!

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So... he has no idea😓

You could be as obvious as can be, getting all flustered whenever he pats you on the back and praises you for doing so well in the last battle, and he's still genuinely confused about why you got so mad.

Meryl think's it's the most annoying thing in the world whenever you start going off on Vash for being "too close" or something, and Milly and Wolfwood just kinda giggle about it in the background.

Still, no matter how many times they try and convince you to just tell him, your ego never fails to flare up the moment the blond wraps his arm around your shoulders and gives you that boyish grin, quickly shoving him off and scolding him.

He just thinks you're so pretty and cool and smart, and everything he wanted in a woman. He wants to advance, and he's tried, but he's so scared that it'll only make you hate him more. He can't afford to lose another chance! So if keeping his distance from you will make you like him, he'll suck it up and do it!

His stupidity really shows when he thinks he's being subtle with his crush though. And with the way he somehow fails to notice that you feel the same...

"Huh? Her? Well, I like her a whole lot! But she doesn't seem to like me very much..." "How so, needlenoggin?" Wolfwood mocks, pretending to be serious and confused about why on earth you didn't like the gunslinger. "Ahh," Vash pouts, slumping his shoulders. "Whenever I try and get close to her, she gets all mad and snappy! I can't even say hello to her without making her yell at me..." "Tragic." Wolfwood shakes his head, and Meryl facepalms at the idiot.

But when you finally began to soften up, it was like whiplash for poor Vash.

He was honestly a bit suspicious at first, but then, he was alllll over you. Smiling at you all the time, holding your hand when the road was a little steep, finding any and every way to touch you.

Yeah, sometimes it gets him a slap to the face or an insult, but it's worth it!

[anyasathenaeum]

Personally I think it would be funny if the plan to lock Reader and Vash in a room together failed miserably and they just ended up talking about the weather the whole time like the emotionally constipated dorks they are. And they actually end up confessing at a completely different, unrelated point. Like, one of them gets hammered and confesses when they mistake the other for a stranger and starts rambling about how AMAZING their "unrequited" lover is.

You don't have to write this if you don't want to, just wanted to share at least.

Locked In With You

A/N: I'm gonna write this, I'm taking it like a personal challenge haha partially because I LOVE your idea, Anon - it somehow feels right. For reference, this is a fic that continues off a point from these jealousy headcanons. I took a slightly different approach to this, but it should still address this request!

Edit: So, there is an optional continuation/part 2 to this fic. Read it here!

Pairing: Vash x reader

"So... what do we do now?"

Vash's voice was abnormally high, clearly indicating his nervousness. You were glad the room was pretty dark - that way, Vash wouldn't be able to see your face changing shades. Or, at least, you hoped he couldn't see your face.

For some reason, Meryl and Wolfwood had decided to take it upon themselves to lock you and Vash in a closet together. At least, that's what you suspected.

"I swear, those two are in for it," You muttered under your breath, "They locked us in here on purpose. But for what reason?"

"I don't know!" Vash exclaimed, letting out another nervous laugh, "M-Maybe it was a genuine accident?"

"I doubt that, Vash," You replied sullenly, crossing your arms over your chest, "I don't think anything those two collaborate on is an 'accident'."

"Aww, come on, we should give 'em the benefit of the doubt, don't you think?" Vash tried again, smiling a bit as you shook your head stubbornly in return.

"Absolutely not."

At that, Vash just chuckled before letting a silence fall between the two of you. It felt... comfortable, but simultaneously a bit uneasy, like there was something hovering between you and Vash - something that was begging to be said, or acknowledged, but wasn't being so and just lingered there.

You normally would have given anything to be caught in a situation like this with Vash, but now that you found yourself here, against your will, you felt unsure and scared.

You had fallen in love with the Humanoid Typhoon while travelling with him, and you always made sure your hands "accidentally" touched, or you found reasons to be stuck with him, or be near him, and found yourself looking at him longingly whenever you were sure he wasn't looking. You were pretty certain Meryl and Wolfwood found you pathetic, as they were most definitely aware of how in love you were with Vash. But even so, they didn't say anything about it, for which you were grateful.

Until now, when Meryl and Wolfwood suddenly decided the only way you and Vash could potentially get together was by physically enclosing you in a space until a confession was drawn out. Enough had been enough for them.

"Vash?" You found yourself whispering his name in a question softly, before you yourself knew where you were going with this.

"Yeah, (Y/N)?" Vash responded, his own voice quiet - if you didn't know any better, he almost sounded... nervous. As if he was anticipating something.

"I-," You took a deep breath, "I just wanted to tell you that-"

The door flung open, and you blinked as the sudden light blinded you. Once your eyes adjusted, you just saw a smirking Wolfwood and a slightly embarrassed Meryl.

"Sorry, guys! We finally got the key to get you two out!" Meryl exclaimed as you slipped out of the closet you'd been locked in, brushing past her and mumbling a "thanks" in passing.

One look with Wolfwood, and you could see that he understood - nothing had happened. No confession. You couldn't help but feel a bit upset about it - you were about to let your feelings go when they'd interrupted, and now... it felt like your chance was lost forever.

Your sorrow lasted the rest of the day, to the point where when you and the group went down to the tavern, you found yourself ordering drink after drink after drink, slamming them back one after the other in an attempt to numb the pain of all your emotions. You felt your head spinning and your blood buzzing in your veins, but you weren't about to stop any time soon.

"Woah, woah, woah! Take it easy, there, sweetheart. You trying to drown your sorrows?"

You glanced over at Wolfwood as he sat next to you at the bar, picking up your drink and taking a sniff before smirking at you, "Damn, sweetheart, strong stuff you got here."

He proceeded to drink your drink, causing you to exclaim, "Hey, I was planning to drink that, you bastard!"

"Whatcha doing, drinking enough of this crap to blind a man?" Wolfwood just asked coolly, his eyes trained on you as you sighed heavily.

"Trying to forget the fact that I'm in love with a beautiful, perfect, amazing, wonderful man who will never love me back," You slurred, your voice louder than you recognized it to be.

Before Wolfwood could even interject, you just continued to rant, "Seriously, Wolfwood, Vash is the most amazing person I've ever met and I love him more than anybody else in my life, but there's no chance somebody as amazing as him would even look at somebody like me twice. I'm nobody special, just ordinary, boring, unimpressive (Y/N)."

To Wolfwood's alarm, there were now tears going down your face as you cried silently, the alcohol amplifying your emotions beyond what you were used to. You were hiccupping quietly, brushing away your tears clumsily as you sat there at the bar, suddenly looking much smaller and more vulnerable than Wolfwood had ever seen you. To say he was unsettled was an understatement.

What you didn't notice was Wolfwood's eyes suddenly shifting to something behind you, a smirk appearing on his lips as he saw Vash just standing there, absolutely stunned. There was no question about it - Vash had heard your declaration of love for him.

You suddenly tried to stand, but of course, with your blood alcohol level now probably through the roof, the whole world jerked violently sideways and you stumbled hard. However, a pair of strong yet gentle arms wrapped around you and caught you before you hit the ground. You let out a groan, feeling sick to your stomach - the alcohol was kicking your butt, now.

"Why don't you let Blondie get you back to your room, huh, sweetheart?" Wolfwood stated casually, waving you off and walking over to where Meryl was, leaving you in Vash's arms.

"Come on, (Y/N)," Vash's gentle voice was suddenly in your ear, causing a shiver to go down your spine as you registered he was there, "Let's get you to bed, yeah?"

"Oh, hi Vash!" You chirped, smiling at him as if you hadn't just been sobbing your eyes out minutes prior, "When did you get here?"

"Just a few seconds ago, just in time to catch you as you tripped," Vash answered, smiling down at you with a grin that could rival the sun. It made your chest feel warm but it hurt you a bit as your feelings resurfaced in your cloudy mind.

"O-Oh. Thanks, Vash," You mumbled, feeling queasy as you tried to walk, "I-I should... go to bed. You don't need to babysit me, I'll be fine."

However, right as you tried to brush Vash off, you tripped over yourself once again, almost hitting the floor once more. Thankfully, Vash was still nearby and managed to catch you once again.

"I won't babysit you, but please let me at least make sure you get back safe, (Y/N)," Vash asked gently, looking down at you with an expression filled with an emotion you didn't recognize.

Regardless, it softened your resolve, leading to you mumbling out a small "okay" and letting Vash guide you back to your room. Before you knew it, you were back in your room and Vash let you get ready for bed as he went to turn down your bed covers and make it easier for you to get to bed. Once you had brushed your teeth and changed into your pyjamas (with a lot of difficulty), Vash made you drink a glass of water and brought you over to the bed, tucking the blankets in around you.

Before Vash could leave, you grabbed his wrist, clutching onto him somewhat desperately, a small whisper leaving you as you felt sleep washing over you, "Please don't go."

You didn't even have time to hear Vash's response before sleep dragged you under, your hand dropping from Vash's as you finally fell asleep. Vash's heart was pounding violently in his chest as he gazed at your sleeping figure - even drunk, you still wanted him there.

Vash couldn't help but smile a goofy little smile to himself - he had overheard your passionate and somewhat sad declaration of love for him, undoubtedly unaware that he was directly behind you. His heart had broken when he heard you voice how you felt Vash was unreachable to you, that his love was unreachable to you and that you felt you were nothing special, simply ordinary, and not enough for him.

Your little whisper asking him to stay as you fell asleep just solidified Vash's determination to confess to you in the morning, once you were sober and would be able to remember every word he told you. He already knew you loved him, he now had that confirmation, and he'd be damned if he wasn't going to act on it.

"I'm so in love with you, (Y/N)," Vash found himself whispering into the night, leaning down to gently stroke your cheek as you slept on, "I love you more than anything. I'll be here when you wake up, I promise. And finally, I'll tell you the truth. I love you, (Y/N). Sleep well, my love."

Vash could not wait for the morning to come.

[mediocreanomaly]

Creature!Vash train continues! :D

May we have some nsfw with mer!Vash please?

Authors Note: Yes of course! Sorry for the delay my creative brain was fried. Also theres alot of build up so uh...smut with feelings? Sorry if thats not your jam but Mer!Vash has customs you know. Enjoy! GN!Reader!!! I don't go into detail about the readers uh...equipment so you can read it as either or

Read the SFW Pt.1 Here!

Mer!Vash X Reader NSFW

•It had been a tedious process for Vash to court you. He was doing everything in the book to show off how good of a mate he would be.

•He brought you lots of fish (dead this time after the last incident) to show he could provide food

•He scavenged lots of shiny objects to show you how good at finding resources he was

•He'd make you sit at the rocks and watch him swim for hours to prove how strong of a swimmer he was, and despite his missing arm he was in perfect health! He'd be a great mate for you, see?

•You seem receptive enough of the advances, always eagerly accepting the courting gifts, bringing him new foods to try when he visited, you had even bought a few cook books to figure out what he liked and although you hadn't gotten him a courting gift since the gold ear ring that currently hung proudly from his ear lobe he knew. It was time to make you his.

•There was one final step, a courting ritual custom for merfolk to see if you'd finally take him to be your one and only mate. He was equally nervous and excited pestering all the other merfolk he considered himself close with about it for days on end.

•Wolfwood is admittedly uninterested not caring about anything human related in the first place, luckily Meryl and Milly are more on the excited side letting Vash ramble away about his perfect future mate. Meanwhile Nai is fully against it, angrily telling him off anytime Vash even brings it up… but you can't please everyone!

•So Vash steels himself, pulling himself up on the rock the two of you have deemed your meeting place, only this time he has something special planned

"Come here!" He calls to you in his own choppy mimicking of human language, although he was getting better at it, he still preferred merfolk speak.

•You hear Vash’s voice and trail out of the lighthouse, confused why Vash is calling you out so late. Vash makes an excited chirp noise when he sees you and slaps his tail against the rock to encourage you to come closer

•You laugh and stagger over the rocks to get to him but before you can reach him he dives into the water, swimming under into dark. It's hard to see him this late at night but you sit down on the rock trying to make out the outline of the merman

•You were admittedly confused at the mermans antics. Vash had become more and more clingy lately, although you secretly didn't mind. You enjoyed the company more than you probably should and luck for you Vash seemed to enjoy you just as much if the increasing visits were anything to go by

•You were a bit confused on what he was trying to do though. Waiting for him to resurface so you could sheepishly admit that you couldn't see whatever it was he was doing under the water

•That is until you do see him. Bioluminescent markings beginning to shimmer through the water, a light blue running along his body showing the intricate patterns that Vash swims in. Your eyes go wide, watching as he swirls around streaks of blue dotting through the water. He moves so gracefully, it's mesmerizing. You can't seem to take your eyes off him when he begins making noise

•It's high pitched, but it's sweet. Like a lullaby you had forgotten, was he singing? He must be. You had heard him make all sorts of chirps and trills but this one was different, more melodic and pleasant. You let your eyes flutter shut as you listen to the song. For some reason you feel like you know the tune despite having never heard the song in your life

•After a couple minutes of listening to his song you hear the sound of splashing. You peek your eyes open to see Vash has popped his head above water, he looks...confused? Or maybe expectant? He sings again letting his song fill the air around you then he pauses looking at you waiting. You blink dumbly at him for a few seconds before you find your voice

"...oh! It was very pretty Vash I didn't know you could sing like that, is that all you wanted to show me?" you ask.  Vash blinks at you before his brow furrows as he makes frantic chirping noises. You startle, slightly caught off guard by the mermans distress. Did you say something rude? Before you can get an answer to that question Vash's glowing tampers off and he dives into the water leaving you alone on the rocks. You wait for a moment wondering if he'd pop back up after half an hour like with the earring, but hours pass and the dark is starting to make the air around you chilly. You frown and count your losses wondering what had gotten Vash so worked up.

•Vash is heartbroken. Had he miss read the signals? You didn't seem reciprocate his mating dance or his mating call at all! He had tried so hard too! Was his song not good enough? He was sure he didn't have the prettiest voice out of the merfolk but surely it was decent enough, right? Or maybe it was the dance? Perhaps he should have swum a different pattern? He had been practicing for weeks though...

•Nai is the one that finds him pouting making weak sad chitters as he lays dramatically on the sea floor.

•Nai is no help. Telling him the merfolk equivalent to "I told you so" and suggesting he just find another merfolk to court if he was so desperate to have a mate.

•But he wasn't desperate to have a mate, he was desperate to mate you. For the next few days Vash is a sorry sight, slowly drifting around the ocean, frowning every time he finds something shiny since he'd usually just give it to you. He just doesn't understand what went wrong...he shakes his head, he couldn't give up that easily, he had to try again, you were the only one for him, he was sure of it.

•You wait on the rocks till sunset again, hoping to see Vash swim up and explain in broken English that he had been busy or that he was off collecting rare human items. Then at least you could scold him for worrying you, then at least you could see his face

•Ever since that night Vash sang to you, he hadn't come around. You still weren't sure what you had done to upset the merman so much but whatever it was you didn't think it dictated getting the cold shoulder

•You began to wonder if maybe you were boring him. He was always coming here, sitting on the rocks, or pulling himself into the sand to entertain you. Since you weren't merfolk there was just some things you couldn't do, maybe Vash was starting to realize that, maybe you hadn't tried hard enough. You stew in the fact that maybe you and you alone was what had chased Vash off

•It's two weeks later when you've determined Vash isn't coming back that he shows his face again. You aren't even looking for him, instead coming back from the night market when you hear a familiar chirping noise coming from the light house

•The second you hear it you take off down the gravel path to your home racing to see if it's who you think it is, and there he is. Perched on the rocks, blonde hair, red tail and that damn gold earring still hanging from his ear, he looks apologetic and abashed as he makes soft cooing noises towards you which you think is supposed to be an apology.

•You dive for him, wrapping your arms around his wet shoulders trying to starve off the sobs you feel building in your throat.

"Vash! You scared me half to death! What if you had got poached! Or hurt! Or-"

•Vash cuts you off by nuzzling closer to you making a quick series of chirps with broken "I'm sorry’ s" mixed in. You grumble not yet ready to let this go but your more than glad he's safe. You sigh and run your hand through his hair and he gives you puppy dog eyes and a toothy grin. Idiot.

•Just as you get used to the weight of him laying against you, he shifts against the rock to get your attention before diving into the water. Again, his body begins to glow, the light glimmering under the surface, and again his song begins. The soft melody filling the air

•Ah, he was...playing again? You take a deep breath not wanting to disappoint him this time, you stand up on the rock and it seems you’re doing something right because Vash looks up at you excitedly, he sings the melody to you again then watches you, you blink and he grimaces before repeating the same notes-

•Wait a second. You tilt you head and try singing them back, mimicking the tune to him. His eyes go wide and a smile breaks out on his face and he makes a loud trill noise swimming in an excited circle before singing again, now that you know what to do you laugh and do your best to sing along

•He swims in lazy figure eights and you walk forward dipping your feet in the water, despite still swimming Vash keeps his eyes trained on you as if waiting on something, you pad into the water giggling thinking you finally understand this weird merfolk game when about waist deep in Vash grabs you

•You yelp as Vash drags you deeper into the water, trying to keep your head up. He's making excited noises nuzzling against your throat, you feel his tail begin to wrap around your legs as he presses you up against the rock, his clawed hands reach down the swipe along your shorts ripping them off in a single clean motion

•Oh. Oh. Everything clicks in your head all at once, the weird gift giving, the flustered state he was in when you gave him the earring, the dance the singing, Vash didn't see you as a friend, he saw you as a mate

•You blush at the idea but your mind is currently reeling from the merman currently being very eager about running his webbed fingers over your sex.

•You moan, a little nervous about the claws his nails tamper off into but it seems he’s also mindful of that, using his tail to keep you up in place against a flat rock as he focuses on pleasing you, making soft coos and trills as your writhe in pleasure under him

"V-Vash don't tease" you manage to whine out, pawing uselessly at his shoulder. He mimics a human laugh, and nuzzles against you, but luckily complies, he ruts against you and from the slit that sits pretty along his tail, what you assume to be his cock emerges, it’s a bit different than a human one, longer, thinner at the tip but it thickens up the further down the shaft it goes, and it's coated in something slick he seems to be producing

•It makes your mouth water, and you wonder what it would be like in your mouth...another time maybe, you'd have to ask him about it. As of now Vash lines the tip of himself up with you and you’re a little apprehensive about the fact he's about to do this with no prep, Vash seems to notice your apprehensiveness and makes comforting cooing noises before purring lightly and nipping gently against your neck, the vibrations flowing from his chest serve its purpose as you relax in his grip

•Slowly he presses in, it's actually not bad, the further he sinks in the more noticeable the stretch is but he goes slow enough that it's more erotic than it is painful. Vash finally bottoms out, pausing and cocking warming himself with you for a moment while you adjust, he makes various clicks and chirps that you’re pretty sure translate into some sort of merfolk praise. He could probably talk if he wanted to but from the way his irises are blow wide with lust, you’re pretty sure his minds too far gone to try and mimic any English right now

•After you settle and the ocean water lapping at your body begins to get a bit cold from the lack of movement you pat the blondes shoulder to try and signal him to move, he chirps and begins to slowly pull out, you whine at the loss now used to full feeling Vashs cock was providing you but it doesn't last long, as soon as it leaves he's thrusting back into your warm heat

•You aren't sure what you expected, perhaps considering the gentle way Vash treats you you had expected something a soft and slow. Something that, in foresight you should have known would be a falsity considering he was acting on instinct. A fact that was becoming evidently clear as he growled, movements fast and a little sloppy as the clawed hands holding you up begin to lightly sink into your shoulder and hip, the snarls only broken up by needy keens as he ruins you

•It's hard to think like this, the sounds of the waves mixed with the equally wet sounds of you and Vashs body meeting repeatedly is making your mind melt in the most wonderful way, the cold of the water, the warmth that’s blooming between your legs, you don't even realize your drooling until Vash moves his arm away to reach down and touch where you need him most

•You wail, scratching at his back while he makes equally loud noises, somehow speeding up even more as he chases release. You feel yourself teetering on the edge, near your tipping point as your body tenses in what’s sure to be the best orgasm in your life when your feel Vashs sharp teeth clamp down along your neck and- oh fuck

•You scream his name as your body milks him for all he's worth, mind blanking as you cum, Vash finishes with you, pressing in as far as he can as thick ropes of cum are pumped into you filling your impossibly fuller. He doesn't seem eager to let it escape either, staying in you even after he finishes trembling slightly from the over stimulation when the waves jostle your bodies together and licking over his mating bite in apology, purring and cooing at your body he carefully cradles in his arms

•You groan, recovering from...well everything when you lazily turn your head to look at the cursed merman, he offers you a sheepish smile a bit of your blood still staining his lips but the pride that's currently shining through his eyes lets you know he doesn't feel that guilty about the situation in the slightest. You huff in mock annoyance and kiss him, something he eagerly accepts, chittering happily against your lips only to sport a dopey grin when you part, causing you to laugh

•Well...there’s plenty fish in the sea, you're just luckily you ended up with this idiot

[adaelines]

Jealousy, A Bitter Drink.

once again its 4am and im posting smut! yay!

vash the stampede x reader

warnings for vash alien genitalia, reader being jealous, sub whiny vash my favourite! in the back alley behind a inn so Techically public but you dont get caught or anything! you shove your fingers in his mouth to keep him quiet.

You were nearly at your wits end. 

Vash hadn’t done anything wrong, per say, but when the entire gang decides to go out drinking after finally arriving at an inn and he’s spending all his attention on someone else, you can’t help but feel unease. You trust him with your entire heart, with everything you are, you know he would never do anything, but you can’t help the jealousy that simmers in your chest everytime you look over and see him laughing at what the girl obviously flirting with him says. 

It’s almost too much, and if the glare you’re fixing them both with doesn’t alert them, you don’t know what else will. You could always approach, kindly let her know Vash is taken, and talk with him yourself but.. You don’t want Vash to think you don’t trust him, that you think he can’t handle himself. So you sit and stew in your bitter feelings, hand around your drink tightening, and you swear on any gods out there if she gets even the tiniest bit closer, you’re gonna go over there and throw the glass at her. You’re sitting with Meryl, Wolfwood, and Milly, but you haven’t paid attention to them at all since Vash went to get you both drinks and didn’t return. Awfully rude of hi, you thought with a pout, keeping you waiting for a girl? Maybe there would be a better way to deal with this, a better way to get back his attention, one that doesn’t involve violence that he so deeply hates. 

So with a smile and a quiet laugh, you tell the three people you’re sitting with you’ll go and collect your rowdy lover and your drinks, and hope that they don’t see the devious plan brewing behind your eyes. You give them a smile and a wave, and they’re quick to go back to arguing about whatever they were before you interrupted. Picking up your glass, you walk over to Vash and the girl with a smile. One you know Vash will be able to tell is fake, but not the girl you’re about to steal him from. Well, it’s not your fault, she stole his attention first and Vash needs reminding just who he belongs to. 

The walk over to him was brisk, and when you gently place a hand on his arm and tell him you need to speak to him privately, outside, he immediately knew he was in trouble. Vash gave the girl a sheepish smile and then followed his lover, laughing with nerves, but directly on your heels. You led him outside, around the back of the inn where you were staying, and gave him an innocent smile. You wouldn’t be disturbed here at least, as long as Vash could be quiet, and he wasn’t known for being quiet. 

‘’You took an awfully long time with our drinks, Vash, distracted?’’ The innocent smile remained on your face as you spoke to him, stepping closer and crowding him against the wall behind. 

‘’A-ah,’’ Vash stuttered, his face quickly flushing. He knew you well enough to tell when an innocent smile was not so, and whilst he realised what had happened, he still flashed you a bashful smile., ‘’I’m so sorry! I know i was getting you a drink but… but someone started talking to me, i didn’t want to just ignore them!’’ 

You knew what he was like, knew that sometimes he was too nice for his own good, and the actual worry nipping at your brain quickly left. You’d still have your fun with him, still mess around with him, but you knew sometimes he was just too good, and you never could actually blame him for that. It was just one of the many reasons you loved him, and you could never ever be mad at him for something that was just so incredible about him. With a devious smile, you pressed your hand against his chest, gently moving it up until you took a hold of his jaw. You made sure to linger around the places you knew he was sensitive, the places you knew would cause a hitch in his breath and the flush on his cheeks to spread. Trailing kisses from his lips to his ear, you took the lobe between your teeth, before quietly whispering directly in his ear.

‘’You’ll have to be quiet, sweetheart. Don’t want to get us kicked out when we finally found a nice inn for us… you remember your safe-word, yeah?’’ 

At Vash’s high pitch whimper, you couldn’t help but pull away and coo at him. His cheeks were flushed a dark red, his eyes wide and mouth wobbly. You really couldn’t help but tease him, he was just too cute sometimes.

‘’Aw, baby, that’s all I need to mention to get you worked up? Aren’t you a needy thing? Let me take care of you Vash, I still have to remind you who you belong to..’’

With a wicked smile and one last kiss pressed to his lips, you trailed kisses down his neck. Listening to his whines, his quiet moans and just the simplest of kisses, you really couldn’t wait to listen to him trying to keep himself together. You continued, moving down his chest, until you had to sink onto your knees to keep going. Vash whimpered again at the sight, leaning his head back and closing his eyes tightly. Simply looking at you was enough for him to feel the slick between his legs, feel his cock twitch from where it sat between his lips inside of him, and he gently moved one shaky hand to brush the hair away from your face. You always got to him so quickly, with a few simple words and touches he would be completely under your spell, completely willing and wanting. He’d do anything for you if you simply asked, and it showed in just how he was looking at you when he opened his eyes, full of nerves, anxiety, but above that full of absolute adoration and lust. 

Slowly, gently, you began at the buttons on his pants. You wanted to take your time with him, as much as you could behind a dingy old inn, with kisses pressed against the wiry blonde hair that lead from below his belly button to the top of his pants. The way you looked up at him between your eyelashes was almost too much for him, his legs already beginning to shake where he was standing. His quiet whimpers of ‘’please, please, can’t wait anymore…’’ caused you to smile against his happy trail, letting out a quiet laugh. You gently hooked your fingers into the band of his pants and underwear, tugging them down just enough to have access to his slick petal-like folds. You knew it usually took some encouragement for his cock to come out, encouragement you were more than happy to provide. 

‘’Please, please, fuck, i need you so bad…’’’ Vash whined quietly, his head banging against the wall when he threw it back and bared his neck to you. You used your hands to shove his knees apart, causing him to squeak, giving you more room to move between his legs. He looked utterly debauched at the moment. Shirt riding up his stomach, the kiss and bite marks you had previously left on show, his stomach and chest littered in purple bruises and teeth indentations. His face was so flushed you would be worried he had a fever if you weren’t on your knees in front of him, and his expression was so desperate, so lewd and full of wanton need, you wanted to make him beg for hours until he lost his voice and had to explain just why even talking made his throat hurt. 

‘’It’s okay, sweetheart, i’ll take care of you..’’ You leant forward slowly, teasingly, pressing a kiss against his folds. One of your hands came up to gently rub the spot where his lips met, eyes staring up at him the entire time. You wanted to see every reaction, every little whimper and shudder, anything. Using your fingers to spread his folds, you pressed licks against his hole, as deep as you could reach with your other hand gripping onto his thigh so tight you were sure he’d have bruises, sure he’d be feeling you for days. He gave you a quick warning, a rushed ‘’ohmygodimsosorryitscomingout’’, before you pulled back and gently pressed a kiss to where his hip bone jutted out. His cock, lighter than his skin and as pretty as you would expect from a Plant, appeared from between his folds, and you immediately grinned up at him. He had no reason to be embarrassed, he was truly gorgeous, and deliciously sensitive.You couldn’t wait to get your hands, your lips, your anything on him. Even the cold air against him made him shudder, a shaky hand coming from against the wall to tangle itself in your hair. 

Wrapping your hand around his shaft, even that slight pressure was enough to make a very loud whine come from him, you leant forward and pressed a kiss to the tip of his cock. You gave him a grin when he struggled to keep himself together, told him to lean forward, and when he did, you shoved your fingers in his mouth. You had to keep him quiet somehow, had to make sure he didn’t make too much of a mess and you always did love having him suck on your fingers. The grin on your face never faded, not as Vash somehow became even more flustered, or as he let out the loudest moan yet. You knew from experience that his teeth were much sharper than those of a human, sharp enough to easily cut skin, but you didn’t care if you ended up with rings of teeth shaped cuts around the bottom of your fingers. Anything was worth it to see the look on his face as he swirled his tongue around your fingers, eyes lidded and full of desperation. He always shut up quickly with your fingers in his mouth, always immediately became the obedient boy he truly was.

‘’What a good boy,’’ you hummed, ‘’My good boy, keep quiet, yeah? I’m not stopping till you’re begging me to.’’

And when he desperately nodded around your fingers, you leaned forward, taking his tip into your mouth. You had to stop a grin at the noise he let out, muffled by your fingers, and you looked up at him through your eyelashes. Vash was always so pretty like this. Always so gorgeous when he’d take anything you gave him, willing to submit to anything you wanted to do. As you slowly lowered your mouth, taking him as deep as you could, his legs almost gave out from under him. If it wasn’t for your other hand wrapped around his thigh, keeping him stable and as close as physically possible, you wouldn’t be surprised if he ended up on the floor. You grinned around his cock, best as you possibly could, and as your nose was buried in the wiry blond hair at the base, you shoved your fingers as deep as you possibly could in your position. The noise he let out was gorgeous, a loud moan broken by a choke, and when you hummed around his length the whine he let out sounded more like a sob. 

‘’Mmnmclose… fuckfuckfuck…’’ Even around your fingers you could make out what he was trying to say, merely doubling your effort to make him cum. He always was so pretty when he got close, even more desperate and whiny. Even if it was hard on your throat to take him to the base, straining and almost making you choke, it was worth it for the look on his face. Was worth it for the way he whined your name around your fingers, the way he clenched his eye shut and nearly doubled over you. You let out as close to a laugh as you could with his cock down your throat, swallowing around him. Anything for the extra pressure, anything that would increase his whines and tip him just over the edge. Even as you gagged on him, eyes watering and hand around his thigh tightening, you pushed even more. His moans made it worth it, made it easy, and you only pulled away when the hand in your hair gripped tightly, his teeth bearing down on your fingers.

Even as the pain makes you wince, even as you feel your skin break and blood enter Vash’s mouth, even as he cums in yours, you don’t pull back. Not until he whines loudly around your fingers that he's cumming, he's cumming, please don’t stop! Not until you feel his cum down your throat, only ever pulling away when you feel as if you can’t breathe, you swallow as much as you can and grin up at him, making a show of it. Anything not in your mouth is on your face, and Vash slumps quickly. You pull your hand out of his mouth to support him as he slides down the wall to sit half in your lap, half on the floor, and you’re quick to wrap your arms around him. To tell him just how good he was for you, how he made you so proud. He spits the blood out of his mouth, giving you a wonky grin, and you laugh loudly at how funny he looks with the remaining blood and flush on his cheeks. You wipe the cum on your face with your shirt, deciding to worry about the stain later, and you press your lips to his.

‘’You okay?’’ Your voice is quiet, raspy from the strain on your throat, and you pull Vash as close to you as you possibly can. Maybe an alley behind the inn isn’t the best place to cuddle, but you can’t bring yourself to care when Vash is in your arms, when you're offering him comforting words and gentle kisses. In response to you, he nuzzles into your chest, a bright dopey grin on his face. 

‘’As good as one can be after uh, finishing, in your mouth!’’ Even in the afterglow he never fails to make you laugh, make you so happy you don’t even focus on the pain in your throat, and you give him the deepest, most passionate kiss you can muster. He deserves it after what you put him through, and he reciprocates quick, wrapping his arms around you as tight as he can and smiling into the kiss.  As you hear Meryl shouting for you both loudly, followed by a comment from Wolfwood that makes her even louder, you smile back into the kiss. You know Vash will get you back, and you can’t wait for him to even try.

[peachy-posy]

Ride This Out - Vash x Reader (Chapter 1)

Summary: After putting yourself in a dangerous situation, you and Vash have one of your first major arguments.

A/N: Third Trigun fic, woohoo! This was my first time writing something with the 98 versions of characters specifically in mind, so I hope everything feels in character! I tried my best hehe Last chapter will have smut (my first time writing any hhhh), minors DNI!!! Cross-posted to my AO3 <3

Chapter Tags: Established relationship, canon-typical violence, minor violence/injuries, hurt/comfort

Word Count: 3.1k

Traveling with only men is decidedly… not very fun, in your opinion. At least not the ones you're with. You lean your head in your hands, listening vaguely as Vash and Wolfwood argue between themselves in their good-natured, but annoying way. You tuned them out about half an hour ago when the conversation started heading in that argumentative direction. 

You miss Milly and Meryl. When the boys start debating and arguing, the three of you have your own conversation, laughing and joking with each other. The insurance girls had been sent to a neighboring town several days ago, promising to meet back up with you three in a week or so. That day could not come sooner. 

Your eyes, which have been glazed over for some time now, focus as Wolfwood huffs, leaning back in his chair. Vash does the same, but you don’t feel any real malice between them as usual. Seems like they are finally done. 

You glance over at the blonde, feeling his turquoise eyes on you.

“Everything okay, Mayfly?” He questions with a smile, reaching across the table to take your hand. 

You smile, even as Wolfwood groans something to the effect of ‘Oh, here we go.’

“Yeah, everything’s fine. I was just thinking about Meryl and Milly,” you answer, prompting a bright smile from Vash at the mention of the two girls. 

“Aw, what, we aren’t fun enough for ya, sweetheart?” Wolfwood asks, his tone teasing. 

You glance at him tiredly. “Unfortunately not. Sorry.” 

He feigns hurt, over-exaggerating his reaction. “You wound me!” Vash chuckles to your side, and you share an amused smile with him. This ramps up the theatrics from the preacher, and he looks at Vash. “How can you lie down and take this? You’re included in that statement, you know.” 

Vash shrugs, rubbing his thumb across your knuckles. Your heart flutters at the action. 

“Oh, please. Get a room,” Wolfwood remarks. You can’t help but snort, even as Vash puffs up. 

As he begins to reply, gunshots echo from somewhere outside: perhaps near the town square. You jump, slightly surprised, and Vash’s hold on your hand tightens as he hears shouting from outside. 

You know what comes next. 

Wolfwood grabs his Punisher, stretching casually as he stands. Vash stands as well, walking over to you briskly, kneeling at your side. He takes you by your shoulders, locking eyes with you, and calls your name.

“You’ll be okay on your own for a bit, right? Don’t come out unless one of us comes for you.” 

“I know the drill, Vash. Be careful,” you reassure, giving him a quick kiss for good luck. He smiles against your lips, able to get lost in the moment, but only for... well, a moment. More gunshots and screams ring out, and he stands up with renewed urgency, meeting Wolfwood at the entrance with long strides. 

Vash glances at you one last time before exiting. You blink and the two are gone, leaving you behind in the old tavern. The few patrons that were there as well had gone to investigate the commotion, leaving you alone. 

You sigh, unwanted frustration with your situation bubbling up in your chest. Unfortunately, it’s like this all the time. After all, you aren’t some incredible, talented gunslinger. You’re just a healer in love with one. 

You slowly stand up, leaving the table you three had been occupying, scrutinizing the room for a good place to hide. After a few minutes, you find yourself a nice little spot behind the bar. It’s not necessarily perfect, but it’ll do. 

You lower yourself to the floor, preparing yourself for the waiting game. You wonder how long it’ll take for them to come back today. Fifteen minutes? Thirty? An hour? 

You hear more gunfire and shouting in the distance, and you try your best to ignore it for now, despite the uneasiness settling in your chest. There’s nothing you can do for anyone until the danger is over. You know that this general course of action is what is safest for you. You hide yourself away, waiting for the ‘all clear,’ then tend to any and all wounded people who happen to get caught up in whatever happens, a reassuring smile plastered on your face all the while. This is how you do your part in the small group you’ve found yourself in. 

It also allows Vash to not be worried about your safety while actively dodging bullets. 

You’d worked in a small clinic before meeting the Humanoid Typhoon what feels like ages ago. Your role as a doctor’s assistant made you happy at the time; it made you feel fulfilled and helpful. And it still does! 

That said, you sometimes find yourself wishing that you could protect others the way Vash and Wolfwood can. Not that you want to throw yourself into the fray of battle, but you hate feeling so… useless at times like this when the fighting first breaks out. Weak. Like something that needs to be tucked away and protected. 

Vash adores that you are a healer. He’ll sometimes sit with you on quiet nights, his fingers rubbing affectionate circles into your hands while he holds them, saying that your hands were made for saving people. You tell him that his hands were too, but he denies it every single time. He says his hands were made for violence. For destruction. 

You couldn’t disagree more. 

Not when you see all of the good he does, protecting those around him with the very hands he swears will bring destruction to everything they touch. 

You are startled out of your thoughts by the sound of a bullet ricocheting particularly close by. You hold your breath, trying to gauge how far away the person who fired it is. You can hear voices in the distance that sound closer than wherever the main incident is. You bite your lip, considering if you are hidden well enough. Slowly, you begin to notice the sounds of… crying? 

You know Vash doesn’t want you to put yourself in harm’s way, but what exactly would looking through a window do? Besides, the crying sounds too much like a child for your comfort. 

You rise slowly from behind the bar, finding your resolve to investigate. Making your way over to a nearby window on light feet, you carefully peek outside. At first, there is nothing that you can see. Suddenly, though, a small child running down the street comes into view. He’s crying, dust coating his hands and knees. He’s bleeding from a few small cuts that you can see from your current view of him, but otherwise seems physically unharmed. 

You gasp as the boy trips, tumbling hard into the dusty ground. He sucks in a sharp breath, bottom lip wobbling. In the blink of an eye, four men concealing their faces with bandanas are upon the boy, one of them grabbing him roughly. 

The child shrieks, thrashing in the man’s hold. To your horror, another one of the men points a gun at him. He can’t be more than five years old. The sight of it makes you nauseated. 

“You’re gonna regret running, you damn brat,” one of the men rasps angrily at the sobbing child. 

“Bring him back to where the other townspeople are. Make sure you don’t lose any this time,” one of the other men orders. 

“G-got it,” one of them replies nervously. 

“If it happens again, it’s your head.” 

It seems like this gang took some hostages when they got here, and this boy escaped. You can’t let them take him back. They don’t seem to have any issue shooting him, as you heard that gunshot earlier as they chased him. Your hands are trembling and clammy, but you know you have to do something. 

But with what? You don’t have a weapon. You desperately look around the tavern, and your eyes land on a knife and empty bottles. Acting quickly, you grab one of each, a messy and dangerous plan forming as you go. 

All you have working for you is the element of surprise. You can’t fight, but you know where to hit someone to make it count due to your medical training. You just hope you’re fast enough. 

You look outside once more, and you notice that two of the men are gone. The other two that remain are talking to one another for the time being, distracted. One holds the child in a punishing grip, surely causing bruises to form on his small wrist. He's wailing in earnest, despite the captors' barking at him to quit. 

It’s now or never. You open the door as quietly as you can manage, gripping the bottle. You’ll have to hit one of the men as hard as you can in the head with the bottle, then use the knife you’d pocketed to strike the other. Your plan is to slash the ligaments behind the knee, immobilizing the person. The bottle isn’t very ideal, but you’re worried your lack of skill with a knife will cause you to accidentally lose the weapon in a body if you try to use it for both men. 

Unfortunately, you know your plan has little chance of success. Once you attack one, the other knows you’re there. Your best bet is to incapacitate the one holding the child first and to assess in the moment if you can deal with the other. There is a large chance you’ll just have to grab the kid and run as fast as you can, hoping you find Vash or Wolfwood if you make it to the town square. You look down at the threshold of the tavern, trying to will your legs to move forward. Your body is frozen, unable to walk outside. 

Suddenly, one of the men turns on his heels, striding back down the street where they originally came from. That gets you moving. 

You hide yourself behind the door hastily, praying you haven’t been spotted. Several terrifying moments pass where you wait for them to descend upon you. You can hear your heartbeat thrumming in your head, throbbing in anticipation of the worst. 

The attack never comes. They haven’t seen you.

You can’t believe your stroke of luck. You may actually be able to pull off incapacitating a single person, even with your limited capabilities in combat. 

You carefully set the bottle on the ground, reaching for the knife you grabbed. You peek around the door, eyes finding the man and boy immediately. The man is yanking the child, trying to get him to cooperate. His back is towards the tavern. 

You grip the kitchen knife firmly, trying to control your shaking hands as you emerge from behind the door. You approach as swiftly and quietly as you can, soon finding yourself within striking distance of your target. 

Just slash the back of his knee. He shouldn’t be able to chase you if you tear a ligament. 

Steeling yourself, you aim for the back of the man’s knee, slashing with as much force as you can muster. 

You know you succeeded when he howls in pain, immediately letting go of the child and grabbing his knee, falling to the sandy, dusty street. He is bleeding, gripping his knee tightly, and he turns to look at you with a shocked glare, his eyes filled with malice. 

You drop the knife in shock, your bloody hands making you nauseous. 

Time to go! 

The child is pale, shaking like a leaf as you scoop him into your arms. The man shouts from the ground, and you see him start fumbling around, looking for something. 

“Get back here! You bitch!” 

You turn on your heels, sprinting as fast as your legs can go. You hear a deafening gunshot, flinching as a bullet hits the dirt nearby. You realize that he had been trying to get his gun, and unfortunately for you, he found it.

He shoots again, but you have already begun weaving as you run, hoping to throw his aim off. The child is clutching onto you fiercely, burying his head into your shoulder. More bullets hit the ground around you, and your heart is hammering wildly in your chest. As you turn the nearest street corner, you find yourself shocked and relieved your plan is working. You just might actually be able to save this child. 

Your thoughts come to an abrupt, violent halt when you notice a dark blur in your periphery. A man slams his gun into your head with a snarl, and you are thrown towards the ground. On your way down, you attempt to shield the boy as best you can, wrapping your arms around him tightly and trying to absorb the shock of slamming into the ground. The breath is knocked from your lungs as you collide into the street with a groan of pain. Your head is swimming, but you unwrap your arms, trying to sit up as quickly as possible and get the boy to his feet. He seems relatively unharmed, but terribly shaken up. 

“Run! Now!” You scream, and he thankfully listens. 

He darts off, right as the man reaches you. You see him start to move after the boy, but you lunge for and grab one of his legs, causing him to stumble with curses spilling from his lips. He whips his head down to look at you, and you do your best to not recoil from his gaze. 

“You just don’t know when to quit, do you?” He scowls, kicking you off him. You gasp, hitting the ground once more with a painful thud. Your ears ring, and your vision is blurring. 

“Just who do you think you are?” He kneels in front of you, gripping your shirt’s collar and yanking you up. You whimper in pain, your head throbbing as he jostles you. 

“I hope it was worth it. You can take his place.” 

“I’m not scared of you,” you lie, managing to catch his eyes. Truth be told, you're terrified. But you’d never tell this scumbag that. 

He lets out a low, threatening laugh. Chills race down your spine. “Oh, you aren’t very smart, are you?” He laughs again, gripping your collar tightly. “You’re lucky I haven’t killed you yet. I’m still deciding. How about I rough you up a little till then?” 

You feel the burn of tears in your eyes, and blink quickly to dispel them before they can form. You refuse to cry in front of him. 

You desperately hope the boy is safe. You’re so close to the town square. Vash and Wolfwood should be right near here. 

Through your blurring vision and pounding head, you see the man rear his hand back. You shut your eyes tight, bracing yourself. 

Instead of feeling the collision of his hand, you hear a sharp intake of breath. You crack open your eyes hesitantly, vision blurring. 

Your breath is pulled from your lungs, tears of relief flowing immediately. Because even with blurring vision, you are able to recognize the long, red coat blowing in the wind. Standing behind the man who tackled you is Vash. He’s holding the man by the wrist, and he looks furious . 

“Vash,” you breathe out, voice trembling. 

The man drops you from his grip, and you fall into the ground, immediately using your heels to scoot away from him. After blinking several times to focus, you take a good look at Vash. You’ve never seen him so angry before. The hand he’s using to grip the wrist of your assailant is trembling with restraint.. 

“I-I know you! You’re Vash the Stampede!” The man realizes with wide eyes, his face pale. 

Vash says nothing, his eyes narrowing. The man continues his nervous rambling. 

“L-look, I didn’t… we didn’t know you were here. If you want this town, it’s all yours. We’ll leave.” 

You hold your breath, watching to see what Vash does next. Your heart aches for him, knowing that he is bothered by the rumors that precede him. That said, that infamous reputation is pretty convenient right now. 

Vash uses his gun to knock out the man without a word. He immediately goes limp, crumpling to the ground as Vash releases his wrist. You release the breath you’d been holding, noting the pain in your head and body, but mostly feel great relief. Vash’s gaze remains trained on the unconscious form before him, his expression complicated. Several beats of silence pass, and you feel yourself becoming slightly anxious. Why hasn’t he said anything this entire time?

“Vash?” You call hesitantly, voice quiet. 

Your voice snaps him out of his daze. His eyes flicker up to yours, relief washing over his features as he races forward, throwing himself on his knees in front of you. 

“Oh Mayfly, god, look what they did to you,” the words spill from his mouth as he holds you in a bone crushing hug to his chest. 

You let yourself be cradled in his arms, disappointed slightly when he pulls back after a moment. He looks pained. 

“Your head,” he murmurs, hand gently reaching for your temple. You hiss when his fingers graze the throbbing, painful area. He retracts his hand, the blood on his gloved fingertips making you realize you’re bleeding. 

“I am so sorry. I’m so, so sorry,” he whispers, holding you close again. 

You furrow your brow and shake your head, trying to ignore the dizziness it causes. 

“You have nothing to be sorry for. It was my-” 

The words die on your tongue as you hear a familiar voice chattering animatedly around the corner. Both you and Vash turn to face the noise, seeing Wolfwood strolling around the corner of the building nearby, holding a child in his arms. You feel the tension drain from your body fully at the sight of the familiar little boy unharmed. 

You hastily stumble to your feet, trying to get over to him, doing your best to ignore the dizziness that overtakes you from the sudden movement. Vash scrambles after you, holding onto you as you sway. 

“Easy, easy! I think you have a concussion,” Vash implores, but you press forward stubbornly. 

The child sees you, squirming from Wolfwood’s grasp to reach you. With dried tears on his face, he looks up at you with big, worried eyes. You feel Vash’s hand at the small of your back, gently steadying you. 

“Well, looks like we found her! Good job, bud!” Wolfwood praises, ruffling the kid’s hair. 

A bright smile forms on his little face. He reaches out and snatches your hand. 

“Come help me find my mommy!”

[kanna1garden]

ೃ࿔ OLDER GUYS

‧₊˚ genre — romantic fluff

‧₊˚ tags — kissing, hand holding, hugging, age gap, pet names (dear) gift receiving 

‧₊˚notes — Zhongli is a man who got a small break from his job for once and go on coffee run and happens to run into you a beautiful college student, hopefully you can win the heart of this random man.

‧₊˚word count — 2379

── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

The timer goes off from your phone to show when your class was meant to end. You finally got a head start to leave as you chose to sit in the back today. Today was the day you would finally go to that new shop that opened up. You hoped it was a store that finally sold some type of boba. It has been so long since you had boba ever since you started college. You ran so fast out of class. Sure you might have gotten some stares but its whatever fuck them.

Opening the doors to the outside. You felt the air hit your face. It felt nice for a second until you realized it was moving your hair around. On the way there you fighting with your hair to keep it in one place. Luckily you didn’t run into anything or even get hit by a car. But here you are next to the store you have been waiting to go to for a while.

You walk in. It’s so nice and well kept inside. You see the menu on the wall and see they sell boba and coffee. They even sell lychee flavored boba. “Miss is there anything you seem interested in or do you need help picking from our menu?” Says the lady behind the counter. “Oh no its alright I think im ready to make my order sorry for taking a bit.” You say quickly as you didn’t realize you were taking a while to order.

You tell your order to the nice woman. “Miss your order total comes out to be 220 mora, would that be mora or card?” Says the nice lady. You were shocked with the price. Maybe this is why they didn’t have prices on the menu but this better be the best thing I have. “I'm going to pay with a card.” Unsure if you even had that type of mora on your card. You just heard the door open to the store. You look up to see a good looking man with long brown golden hair walking through. “I'm sorry but your card isn’t going through, is there any chance you have a different type of payment?” The sweet lady asks, breaking your thought process again. You were about to say something with shame but the good looking man says “Don’t worry miss, is it alright with you if I pay your order?” You say with SHAME as you couldn’t pay your own things but at least a stranger is willing to pay. “If it’s alright, I'm so sorry for bringing you to this.” The man only smiles at you after handing the cashier his (childe) card.

After paying for your order, he bought something called osmanthus tea. “Sir, I'm so sorry for making you pay so much.” You say trying to be as sorry as you can be. “It’s alright dear, I offered to pay.” He says being nice to you. “Is there anything I can do pay you back maybe?” You say trying to be nice to him even if you might never see him again. “Well maybe we can talk here for a bit as you seem like a lovely woman to talk to if you have the time.” In the back of your mind you knew you were hoping just for a no as you're a broke bitch who couldn’t pay this off, But you were happy to just talk to a fine looking man who was a gentleman. “My name is Zhongli by the way.”

After some talking and maybe some light laughter at a random table in the store by the window. An hour or so has passed. Maybe this guy isn’t expecting anything from me for paying my things. “Shit” he says shocked when he saw the time. “I'm very sorry dear you are a really lovely woman but it seems I overstayed my welcome.” You try saying something by unconsciously holding his hand to ask something but he moved his hand from yours and he quickly wrote his number for you. “This my number call me or text me when you feel like hanging out again or just talking but i have to go im very sorry.” He says quickly grabbing his things and quickly walking out. All you could do is wait a bit and save the number in your phone…

── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

It has been 3 days since meeting Zhongli. Strangely even after all that talking it seems you missed him so maybe it’s finally time to text him. You turn on your phone and look for his number in your contacts.

‧₊˚✧[MESSAGES]✧˚₊

You

Heyy its (___)

THAT DUDE🌸

Hello I wasn’t expecting to get a message from you.

You

Haha sorry for taking a while to send anything. I got too shocked to send anything.

THAT DUDE🌸

That’s alright. By chance you might want to meet again?

You

Of course!! It was so great talking to you last time :3

THAT DUDE🌸

That’s great to know.

See you soon.

‧₊˚✧[MESSAGES ENDED]✧˚₊

You are now staring at your roof lying on your bed. Just smiling to yourself, unsure why you just recently met Zhongli, just some guy. Maybe you’re just going insane. Your alarm goes off basically saying you are late to class now as you still have to get ready. Maybe this man might cause you hell or maybe bring some type of peace.

── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

It was a bit awkward getting ready to see Zhongli as you haven’t seen him in a while after that meeting in that store. You’re getting yourself dressed to meet him at the location he has sent you. In the back of your mind you were unsure if you have heard this place before but it sounds so familiar. Xinyue Kiosk was the place. All that you can remember it was a famous restaurant but you could never guess how famous it was until you got there.

You finished getting ready and just realized what time it was. You just realized Zhongli messaged you a bit ago telling you that he was outside your place to pick you up. You quickly put on your shoes. You try to quickly get to the front area to where he was.

In front of you was a 1966 Porsche 911 coupe that seems to be well kept by Zhongli. Sure you never asked how old he is but you thought you could guess how old he was but what if he was older by the type of car he had. It was obvious he had mora from day one. When he realized you were near he opened the other door for you to get. “Good evening dear, how are you today?” He asks you when you are closer to him. “I have been alright and you?” You reply back to him just to keep the small talk. He gets in the car and starts driving while you two have small talk about what ever is happening in the world.

You and Zhongli have finally made it to Xinyue Kiosk Restaurant just to see a line of people waiting to see if they can even get a table. You started to get nervous if Zhongli was going to wait in this line and he could tell. “We aren’t going to be waiting. I have a reservation for right now so we should be going already .” He says smiling at you hoping maybe it would relax you a bit. “Thats good to know that line these like they have been waiting for days!” You know you wont even last an hour standing in a line like this. But at least now no wait. Zhongli parks the car and opens the door for you. “Thank you Zhongli!”

“It’s not a problem this what every man should do for a beautiful woman like yourself”

All you could do is laugh. It wasn’t to mock him but because you didn’t know how to reply but sweetly laughed at the comment. He joined you but it only lasted for a bit. Both of you started finally walking to the restaurant. “Hello, how may I help you?” Asks a girl with short blonde hair and golden eyes whose name tag says ‘Lumine’ and they were at the hostess stand “I have a reservation under the name of Childe.” Zhongli tells Lumine. You are just standing there, thinking who this other name is and if you should even ask. “Okayy, both of you may follow me now” says Lumine sweetly. :3

When you are walking to your table you decide to slip your hand onto Zhongli’s hand on the way there. When he looks back at you, you just smile at him. When she shows what table the two of you will be waiting at and puts menus down and leaves. “So Zhongli may I ask who's that person's name you used is?” You asked him as it was lingering in your mind still. He replies with “We are just work partners and had a reservation he won’t be able to make.” You guessed it was a good enough answer so this place seems to be packed so it might be hard to even get a reservation. Before you could say something, Lumine comes by again and asks if both of you are ready to order something off the menu. “I will get golden shrimp balls.” You order and Zhongli orders “I would like a slow-cooked Bamboo shoot soup if that's possible.”

“I will get that out as soon as i can” Says Lumine trying to be nice. She walks to the back where you guess where the kitchen is. When you see Lumine start cooking what you both ordered. Does that girl do everything around here and where are the other workers? Well you guess that’s unimportant as you are getting your food no matter what. You and Zhongli talk until both of your food comes.

You try to hold Zhongli’s hand while trying to talk to him when you both finish eating and pay. But this time with the speed he is walking. No holding hands this time. But he opened every door again for you but he drove you home with some talking in the car

You are home again. You feel a bit sad as the day is over now. “You know I hope we get to see each other again.” You say to Zhongli that maybe both of you can see each other one day. “Hopefully we both find time for each other to have something like this again” he says waiting for you to go inside your place, and leaves when you are finally inside…

── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

It has been a few months and you guys had grown a routine of hanging out with each other with some now and then hand holding. Maybe it's time to tell him how you feel. He might have the same thought as you. Tomorrow you plan on confessing when both of you plan to meet up again. Maybe it's to get some rest for you as you have been just thinking to yourself for a little too long. You were in your sleep for a long time. It was almost time for you to see him. So it's best to use the time to get ready.

You are finally ready to see Zhongli. You can feel your nerves build up as it has been so long you have even been able to think about if you even like someone. You really hope he would feel the same way. You are finally at the place where you both are meant to be meeting at. And there you see him with his long brown hair flowing with the wind in that low ponytail he always wears everyday. “Hey Zhongli!” You say trying to call out to him. “Hello there dear '' he says smiling to you when he realizes you are nearby. “Dear may i ask you something?” He says slightly nervous. “Yea sure what is it?”

‧₊˚✧[ENDING 1]✧˚

You ask back now getting worried about what he might say. “We should hang out more than we do now. Your presence is comforting.” You were unsure what to say you knew this man was old but now you were unsure how old. “Zhongli would there be any chance you would be interested in a romantic partner?” You ask, getting a bit more worried about what his answer would be. “Yes i would be interested in a partner one day maybe.” You guess maybe it's time to shoot your shot cause this might be the only time you will have the guts to say.``Zhongli will there be a chance you date me?” Both of you are now sitting there in awkward silence and he finally replies. “Yes i would.” You felt such a relief after hearing that. You move closer to him and hug him. Zhongli was unsure what to do but hugged you back after a few seconds. He lifts up your face and kisses you. And pulls out a pair of earrings made out of diamonds…

Maybe yall last for a long time and maybe you will live in his memory for a while now. Hopefully you live long enough to stay in his memories before you die leaving him #foreveralone ❤️

‧₊˚✧[ENDING 2]✧˚

You asked back now, getting worried about what he might say. “I think we should stop seeing each other. It’s just for the best.” He says to you. All you could feel is your heart sink but maybe it is for the best. “I know it might not be my place to ask why but i want to know why?” You ask, hoping maybe it’s for a good reason. “I can tell you may be catching feelings and I would never be able to share these feelings with you.” All you wanted to do is cry but you just said your goodbye and ran away..

Heart break will always happen with an old man like him. #foreveralone ❤️

── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

@seraphmeraph

[greetingfromthedead]

Wedding Bells (Vash x Bride!Reader)

Plot: You didn't really think too hard about your wedding day, planning to perhaps sign a paper and then go celebrate with drinks, but both you and Vash had made a promise to Lena and Granny to include them and once Meryl and Milly found out, the event took on a life of its own.

Series: [prequel - Wedding Bells], [Part 1 - Little Feet], [Part 2 - Pitter-Patter]

Pairing: Vash x Bride!Reader

Raiting: Everyone

Tags: post-Trimax (no major spoiler), fluff, happy ending, wedding, found family, love of your life

Word count: 3k

Author's Note: I went with a slightly "nontraditional" approach, mixing different wedding customs together as that's partially how I imagine things on No Man's Land to be (a blend of different Western (sorry) traditions), but I did lean more pagan and Celtic since I am self indulgent.

This has gotten a bit out of hand. You think to yourself as you look out the window at Kasted City. You can't believe how much the city has changed since you were last here. Repairs have been made, and everything looks as good as new. The last scars left by the bandit infestation have been wiped away completely. The city is thriving once again. You stand in the middle of the room on a chair, and the narrow window only reveals a small glimpse of the landscape. You lean forward, trying to see more, but immediately get pricked by a sharp needle.

"Ow!" you complain before settling back.

"I have told you time and time again to stand still! Stop fidgeting so much!" Granny scolds you as she makes the last alterations to your dress. "I'm almost done with the hem."

This was supposed to be just a little homecoming to fulfill your promise to Lena and Granny. Vash had sworn that when the time came for the two of you to finally tie the knot, they would be included. In your mind, it meant that you return to the toma farm, perhaps sign a piece of paper, and go to have a drink, but it turns out that word travels fast. Especially when it comes to the Humanoid Typhoon and his companion, who have touched many people's lives. Meryl made quite a fuss when she found out about your plan, and Milly was close to tears when she got the impression that they weren't welcome. So you assured them it would be nothing fancy, but if they wanted, they were more than welcome to join. You get the feeling that's where the cat got out of the bag.

When you got to the city this morning, you were greeted with a buzz of excitement and anticipation. You brushed it off as just something unrelated to your arrival, but as you made your way to Granny's ranch, it had been decorated with streamers and bows. Lena and Meryl were hanging up a giant sign adorned with both your and Vash's names, and you felt a shiver run down your spine. You knew this was going to be a day to remember. While a hint of tread creeped into your soul, you turned your head to see your beloved fiance's face light up at the sight before him. A smile crossed his face, and you knew that whatever happened next, you would face it together. That's when Granny appeared, and after a warm welcome, you were separated from your dearest.

Granny and Lena had been working on a dress for you. It's simple but elegant and made with love. There are no extravagant embellishments, but you could see the care and effort put into every stitch. They also showed you the tiny pocket on the inside of your dress at the back of your neck that had a 5 cent piece in it. They did not, however, elaborate further.

From Granny's care, you move on to Meryl's, who makes you sit by the window to do your makeup. She chatters about all the preparations for the wedding as she carefully applies your lipstick. The others come and go, busy with preparations yet desperate to catch a glimpse of you.

"Done!" Meryl proudly proclaims, but she tilts her head and looks at you thoughtfully. "Something's missing…"

Her piercing gaze makes you nervous as you try to figure out what she is talking about. Suddenly, her eyes light up, and she reaches to remove her earrings.

"Here! These will work well! But I want them back!" She grins as she hands you the long golden earrings. You take them hesitantly as you look at them.

"Thank you, Meryl!" You smile up at her as you turn to the mirror and put them on.

"I see you have something borrowed. How about something blue?" A new voice speaks up from the door behind you, and you whip around in your chair.

"Luida!" you exclaim in surprise. She smiles her signature calming smile at you.

"It's good to see you again," she says and comes closer. "My, you look gorgeous!"

A slight blush colors your cheeks as you thank her for the compliment. Your eyes trail downward slightly, and you see something in her hand. Before you can ask, she lifts it up and removes some paper from around a brilliant blue bouquet made from the flowers she grows on Home.

"I meddled a bit with them; they should be preserved in time as they are, and hopefully they will never wither," Luida says softly as she hands you the beautiful flowers and you take a whiff. The scent is sweet and fresh, filling you with a sense of calm and happiness.

"I too have something for you," Milly says, coming closer with a slightly nervous look. "Or rather, Livio sent it with his apologies since he couldn't make it today."

"Oh, that's okay. Someone had to stay with the kids and birds." You smile, but then look at the little box Milly puts in your hand. "What's this?"

"Something old. Livio wanted you to have this since you and Mr. Priest were so close. He said he had this since the orphanage; apparently, it's the only thing he had from his birth parents. After he passed, Livio held on to it but always intended to give it to you." You hear the tears threaten to roll down her cheeks in Milly's voice. She has always been the emotional kind. You open the box, and inside you find a small cross pendant with no chain.

"Thank you, Milly! And give my gratitude to your dear husband too!" You smile at her reddening face as she tries to keep it together. You pick up a safety pin from the vanity and carefully fasten the cross to the inside of your dress's neckline, close to your heart.

"So, we have something old, something blue, something borrowed, and a 5 cent piece! We're only missing something new!" Granny said with glee, and before you could start to protest against any more gifts, Lena appears with a giant box.

"Lucky, we received a parcel a few days ago, and it's addressed to you!" She announces happily as she holds the box towards you. You hesitate for a moment, your fingers hovering at the edge of the box, before you remove the lid. The inside still doesn't give you a clue as to what this could be, as the item is carefully wrapped in paper, on top of which lays a small card. You pick it up to read it.

My dear!

The wonderful news has reached us here at Misdon! We are all so happy to hear that our two biggest heroes are getting married! You saved our lives and our livelihood! The whole town will forever remain in your debt, even if you didn't save the rest of the world too! We wish we could attend, but times have been busy, so we send you this gift. I hope you like it. Everyone pitched in and did a little bit!

Your friend,

Adeliene

You are reminded of your adventures in the mining town of Misdon, where bandits tried to take over the crystal mine. You and Vash had your hands full driving them out, and you had to personally protect Adeliene, the daughter of the mine owner. You even took a bullet for her. You carefully remove the paper to be greeted by a blinding shimmer. The sunlight from the window hits the content of the box and sends dots of light dancing all throughout the room. Everyone gasps at the sight. You touch the delicate translucent fabric and let your fingers run over the hundreds, if not thousands, of small crystals sown onto it. They look like constellations.

"This is gorgeous!" you whisper in awe as you continue to admire the intricate design.

"Alright! I can't wait to see it on you!" Lena seemingly shakes with excitement. "But first, we need to fix your hair!"

The young girl puts aside the box before quickly moving on to grab the hairbrush.

"We should get back! Let's make sure everything is perfect for the big day." Meryl announces and drags Milly away by the elbow, Luida quietly following them. You remain in the room with Granny and Lena, who fill your head with hairpins and finally fasten the veil to your hair.

"You are the most beautiful bride I have ever seen in my long life. We are truly blessed to call you part of the family, my love!" Granny squeezes your shoulders as you sit in your chair and gives you a kiss on the cheek. Gratitude swells in your chest as you thank Granny for her kind words and embrace her tightly.

"The big goofball is wholly your responsibility now!" Lena chuckles, giving you a playful nudge with her elbow.

As you are left alone in the room, you stand up and take a long look in the mirror. You can't help but feel a rush of excitement for what the future holds. Your face is covered by the light fabric, and as you let your fingers run over the delicate lace, the room is filled with sparkling lights dancing on every surface. This is not how you imagined the day going—to be surrounded by your friends and family, turning this day into possibly the most magical one of your entire life.

It doesn't take long for the music to start sounding from the parlor, signaling for you to make your entrance. So you head out through the backdoor as instructed and walk around the building to the large saloon style doors at the front of the house. The music sounds more clearly now and you can hear the chatter of the guests inside. You're not sure if Granny saw you from where she sits behind the piano or if someone else spotted you and signaled her, but the music changes. The beautiful melody has a different rhythm, and everyone knows to quiet down.

You take a deep breath and clutch the bouquet of flowers tightly. Two men push the sides of the doors and keep the doorway open for your entrance. All eyes turn to you, and gasps of adoration fill the space. The people standing on either side of the aisle are all people you've left a mark on. You have saved them in one way or another, and today they are here to pay their respects and celebrate with you. If you looked at them, you would see people from Kasted City and the neighboring villages, people from far and wide, but your eyes are on the dark haired man waiting for you at the end of the red carpet.

Vash's eyes are wide, and you can see the moment his lips part for a gasp. His gaze is so filled with love and adoration that you feel tears prick at the corners of your eyes. You can't believe this is happening to you. You have found such a wonderful man, and you're about to vow your everlasting devotion to each other in front of all these witnesses. And as you look into his eyes, you know that this is just the beginning of a beautiful journey together, despite everything you've been through already.

He wears a dark burgundy suit jacket, and you are sure Granny had a hand in his attire. From the chest pocket, poke out a few crystal flowers and small silver stars, catching the light and sparkling at you, mixed together with the blooms of red geraniums. He looks magnificent and handsome, and you can't help but smile at the thought of Granny and the others conspiring to make him look his best for this special occasion. You see the tears well in his eyes as he looks at your approach, and he takes half a step forward as if wanting to run towards you and lose the distance as soon as possible. However, he holds back, his emotions overwhelming him, and he lets out a small sob before brushing the tears away.

The tall windows on either side of the parlor cast light on you, and the warmth stroking your skin makes everything else fall away. In your mind, there is only you and him. Together, as always. As you reach him, a smile is painted on your face, so wide it almost hurts. He reaches out his hand, and you gently take it, feeling the electricity between your fingertips.

"My beautiful Stardust! You make the night sky jealous!" he says as the two of you stand there, basking in each other's presence, knowing that you are each other's forever.

Meryl, who has taken in her position as officiant, lets out a small cough to wake the two of you from your trance. You take another step forward without letting go of the man you love, ready to start the next chapter of your lives together.

Meryl begins the ceremony, speaking with a warm and calming voice that fills you with joy and excitement. She thanks the guests and begins to share heartfelt words about the love and dedication you both have shown towards each other. But you can barely hear her as you steal glances of the man standing beside you. His handsome silhouette and glimmering eyes as they meet yours fill you with butterflies. You can feel your heart racing with anticipation as he gently squeezes your hand.

"My dear friends, the bride and groom, I ask you to look into each other's eyes," Meryl speaks, and you turn to face your soon-to-be husband. The love and adoration in his eyes overwhelms you, confirming that you are about to marry the person of your dreams. He still holds your hand, but lifts it up a bit as he faces you. "Will you honor and respect one another and seek to never break that honor?"

"We will," you both say devotedly.

"Will you share each other's pain and seek to ease it?"

"We will."

"Will you share the burdens with each other so that your spirits may grow in this union?"

"We will."

"Will you share each other's laughter and look for the brightness in life and the positive in each other?"

"We will."

"Dear bride and groom, as you bind your souls together here, in front of people who adore you, may your spirits be joined in a union of love and trust. Above you are the stars, and below you is the earth. Like the stars, your love should be a constant source of light, and like the earth, it should be a firm foundation from which to grow. Let your love guide you through the darkest of times, and may it always be a beacon of hope in the storm. Do you have vows of your own you would like to share?"

"Yes," Vash speaks as his eyes stay on yours. "My love, you are the one person with whom I can share all that I am. I promise to trust you and to be honest with you. I promise to listen to you, respect you, and support you. I promise to laugh and play with you and grow and bend with you. I promise to cherish every day we have together. I promise to do all of this through whatever life brings us—richness or poverty, health or illness, through good times and bad—until the end of my days. And beyond this, I will cherish and honor you through this life and the next."

Lena steps forward with a small pillow, and Vash takes a golden ring from it. He releases your right hand, and you take your flowers into it so he can gently slide the ring onto the ring finger of your left hand. He bows down and places a small kiss on the band. You have Lena take your bouquet so you can tightly hold onto both of Vash's hands, feeling overwhelmed with love and joy.

"My love, I choose you. We shall walk side by side, through sunshine and storms, health and sickness, good times and bad. We will meet whatever comes together. Under the starry night sky and in the scorching desert heat. I promise to love you forever and a day. My love, I choose you to be my partner in life and always. Our love endures, forever and a day." You make your promises while looking into his tear filled eyes, your own vision blurring from the emotions too. You pick up the golden ring and slide it on his prosthetic hand. You whisper, "I will never leave your side, no matter what challenges come our way."

"And with that, I pronounce you husband and wife!" Meryl's cheerful voice sounds over the room. "You may kiss the bride!"

Vash carefully takes the edge of the veil between his fingers before he lifts it up, revealing your face completely. He lets the veil fall over your head and gently takes your face into his hands, planting a soft kiss on your lips to seal your marriage. You feel overwhelmed with love and happiness as you realize that this is just the beginning of your life together. The whole room erupts into cheers and applause, celebrating your love and new journey as a married couple.

As he pulls away, you look into his tender face, and he mouths a silent I love you. Lena hands back your bouquet, and hand-in-hand, you walk through the room again, now with Vash by your side. Feeling like the luckiest person in the world, you head out of the parlor as the people gathered throw colorful confetti at you. Further away, from the city's chapel, you hear bells echoing over the desert.

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[pancake-breakfast]

CW: Trauma and Suicidal Ideation

Once we reach volume 6 of Trigun Maximum, I think it's fair to say that no one in our party of protagonists understands Vash on an emotional level more than Meryl. After all, she's the one who got a full dose of Vash's emotions back in the Dragon's Nest.

It seems like a lot of what we see of Meryl in Volume 6 is her trying to process all of that, which honestly would be rough for anyone. We've seen how Vash himself is processing it and that can easily be summed up as "not well." It's not exactly a surprise that she's showing signs of depression and suffering from night terrors all throughout the first chapter. But in spite of the fact that Vash (likely inadvertently) traumatized her with both his history and the reveal of what he is, she remains so concerned about him.

The first action we see her take after coming across his memories isn't to try and flee or defend herself from him, but to shoot at Legato. There are five superhuman beings stuck in a deadlock, and then there's her, a mere normal human, and she's the one who breaks that deadlock. She sees what she needs to do and, despite the tears in her eyes, she does it without hesitation to defend herself and her friends.

She may be small, but her power is adequate.

And when everything dies down, she's the first to verbally check on Vash.

This question is kind of loaded, though. On the surface, she's asking if he's ok and back in control, but she could also be asking a myriad of things about what the hell even happened just now, or what happened in July, or how everything she saw about his arm in his memories has affected his wellbeing and how he's coping.

Vash's response is meant to reassure her, but it's so vague it does little to dispel anything but the fear of immediate danger (be it to himself or to others around him). It's no wonder Meryl is still haunted by so many thoughts and feelings after all this; they really needed to sit down and have a long talk about what happened both in the Dragon's Nest and in what she saw in his memories. But they don't. And so Meryl is left floundering.

It's something that's gonna bite them both in the ass sooner rather than later. Much, much sooner.

But again, as we move into the next chapter ("The Gunslinger"), Meryl's primary concern still isn't about Vash's destructive capability. It's about whether or not he'll be able to survive his next gunfight. 'Cause there's always a next gunfight for Vash.

Sorry, I lied. That's not the face of someone who's afraid their friend won't be able to pull a trigger to save their own life in the next gunfight (which is playing out in the now right in front of her for this scene). That's the face of someone who is deeply concerned for her friend whom she know is absolutely drowning in the sorrow of his past actions, of having pulled a much bigger trigger than the one of the gun now in his hand (or even of the Punisher that Vash has seen fit to commandeer for this mission), and who has every reason not only to go to great lengths to never repeat the mistake of July again, but enough regret to possibly let even the lowest of lowlife scum put a bullet in his own head to keep that from happening.

She thinks of his angel arm, but her immediate thought isn't, "Oh, no! What if he goes off again?" Her thought is, "Oh, god. He's carrying waaaaay too much emotionally, it's making him suicidal, and he is going to die here."

So, then, what's up with this reaction a few chapters later when Vash accidentally releases just a tiny bit of his power to stop a bullet?

My thought is this is the conversation Vash and Meryl didn't have coming back to bite them both in the ass.

Meryl hasn't had a lot of time to process these memories, and as best we can tell, she hasn't talked about them to anyone. Wolfwood kind of gives her an opportunity, but instead the two of them get caught up in denying they know as much as they know. If they'd instead had a conversation about Vash, it might have helped Meryl find a place for some of this.

But the person she really needed to have that conversation with is Vash.

While Meryl's flashback is of the events of the Dragon's Nest, from what we saw at the end of the Dragon's Nest arc and in the Gunslinger chapter, Meryl isn't that afraid of Vash and his power. The one who truly fears Vash's power is Vash himself.

Despite Vash having only recently regained his memories of July, he's still intimately aware that he has immense raw destructive power. But it's been over two years since he blew a hole in the moon, and even before that he had literal decades to build up the determination that (usually) keeps him moving forward when the horrors are too great. Meryl has had... what, a week? A month? A few days? Not nearly enough time.

If she and Vash had spent some time talking over what they both learned about him in the Dragon's Nest, it might at least help Meryl recognize what parts of it are her and what parts of it are him. Even if it didn't, it might have helped Vash contextualize her panic in this scene and find a better way to respond, or helped her to dig up the words for it before the boys ran off, since she would have spoken them them already in a more controlled setting.

But that didn't happen. So instead, we get to see all of Vash's fear and panic over what might happen if he loses control manifest in Meryl. And it manifests as screaming, trembling, and tears seemingly without end.

Thank God for Milly, or it might have resulted in her feeling the same kind of loneliness and isolation Vash feels, as well.

[tomatoswup]

"Can I get a-"

summary: Hi! Welcome to McDonald's! How may I take your order?

warnings/tags: crack!fic, legit just a crack fic, or aCTUALLY A CRACK!DRABBLE☝️☝️ mcdonalds propaganda, big breakfast and hash brown advocation, poor vash trying to work on a normal day, knives fist fighting a customer waffle house style, reader just wants their breakfast ;(

A/N: ....do i have to explain why i wrote this.....i found the whole mcdonalds au one of the funniest things the fandom could've come up with...it wasn't just a need it was a NECESSITY :D

"Order number 32!"

Ah yes, McDonalds at 7 in the morning, the beeps of the orders coming in, the beeping of the machines, and the bustling talking of the customers either sitting and eating or waiting for their orders.

McDonalds was a true staple of cryptic shopping for hunger.

But you could never get enough of their big breakfast and hashbrowns. And like a zombie, sometimes you found yourself in line some mornings before work.

But this morning seemed a bit...off.

"YOU'RE BURNING THE THE FUCKING HASHBROWNS WOLFWOOD!"

"NO I'M NOT!"

You couldn't help but watch a pancake fly in the air as you made your way to the counter. There, you were met with a kind faced worker, a cute one too! Peeking at his name plate that read "Vash", you gave him a soft smile, still feeling a bit tired.

"Hi! How can I help you?" He asked, returning the smile, the McDonalds hat on his head pushing down the tufts of blonde spikes of his, peeking under the hat.

But why was he wearing glasses? It was practically still dark outside...

"Hi, can I get a-"

"EXCUSE ME! WHY DID I NOT GET ANY LARGE FRIES!" Turning your attention to one of the customers right by you, both Vash and you jumped at the sudden slam of a receipt onto the counter to one of the other workers behind it.

A more pale, blonde man stood there, giving the rude customer one of the most stankiest faces you never thought some one could ever give.

If looks could kill, this man definitely could. He looked like he was about to jump over the counter and pounce on the man with the energy he was giving out.

Waffle House style.

"Err, sorry 'bout that.."Vash sweatdropped before looking back at you "What did you want to order?"

"Can I get uh-"

"JESUS FUCK MERYL DO YOU KNOW HOW TO FLIP A SAUSAGE?"

"WHY ARE YOU YELLING AT ME!? I'VE BEEN WORKING HERE FOR 2 YEARS! YOU'RE THE NEW ONE!"

You took a step back when suddenly, you saw a flash of yellow flying towards the both of you.

WAS THAT AN EGG??

Oh fuc- "FUCK!" You shouted as you ducked, wait did you say duck? Or did you say fuck?

Looking back up, you saw pieces of egg hanging off the back of Vash's head as you put a hand over your mouth.

Oh noo...

"I'm so sorry-"

You got back up on your feet and leaned over to brush off the egg pieces from the back of Vash's head.

"And I thought today was gonna be a normal morning..." Vash exhaustingly sighed.

Suddenly, you heard a scuffle behind you, chairs moving and things toppling over.

What was going on!

Turning around, you watched as Nai fist fought the customer, chairs flying everywhere as Nai tackled the man into a table.

"HEY HEY KNIVES IS FIGHTING!!" You heard someone scream from the back before the influx of McDonalds workers came running from behind the counter, jumping over or going through the door entrance to aid him.

"GET HIS ASS KNIVES!"

"GET HIM OFF!"

"Oh we're getting sued..."

You couldn't help but just watch on, mouth agape at what just happened in the matter of 1 hour, before looking back at Vash, who kept his place behind the register, covering his face with his hands in embarrassment.

"I'm so so sorry...Honestly, I can give you a free apple pie because of all this..." He apologized, shoulders drooping down.

"Oh um, it's okay, really." You couldn't help but chuckle "Rough morning huh?"

Maybe you should come back another day.

...At least the cashier was cute..

[uhhhitsgray]

ya know in episode 4 of stampede where wolfwood is doing his prayer in front of the punisher, and then meryl asks what type of cross that is and wolfwood grabs it and pulls it close to him... yeah that scene.

really just woke up with that thought, but instead of the punisher it's your leg hitched over his shoulder like that. his fingers digging into the plumpness of your thigh as he pushes himself into you... he'd call you a good girl as his other hand runs up your hips and squeezes your waist as he fully sinks into you. his chest exposed, and muscular under his shirt. he'd 100% fully unbutton his shirt cause he's just that cocky type of guy, his toned stomach exposed above you as the muscles flex on every pull and push into your soaking heat.

he'd try to keep up the façade that he's holding it together, but every time he bottoms out in you, your hole flutters around him just enough to make his brain swim, all reasons to keep composure being drowned out every time you squeeze him. when the façade starts to slip, holy shit, he'd be a moaning, whimpering mess above you.

his thrusts would still be calculated, making sure he takes care of you, and he'd try his best to not falter, but you're getting so tight on him; squirming below him. it's tough for him to hold it together.

"fuck." he'd pant out above you as he pulls out, leaving just his sensitive, leaking tip in you.

"such a good fucking girl." he's pushing in just a bit, your pussy flutters around his cock. he'd moan at the sensation, his voice raising higher than he means to, almost a whimper.

he'd fuck into you so good, holding your leg over his shoulder still. he'd fuck into you so hard that you'd move up the bed, and when wolfwood really loses the façade he'd be even more of a fucking mess. he's squeezing your thigh so hard, it'd sure leave a bruise. biting into your soft skin anywhere his mouth can reach, your thighs, stomach, neck. anywhere,, he's desperate. he's moaning, whimpering and he'd spit onto your heat before his thumb finds your clit, urging you to cum. trying so hard push you over the edge, because he's there too. he's been there, but he's to mesmerized by the look on your face when he bottoms out in you, how your eyes roll into your head. the grip on the sheets tightens, how you whimper below him and squirm every time he digs his fingers into your skin.

he'd ask you to cum on his cock, and give you praise when he feels you squeeze on him in the familiar way of your orgasm washing over you. "good girl, you feel so good when you cum on my cock, fuck." he'd whisper it into your ear as he slows his rhythm.

and when he cums? god, he'd bite into the warm, soft skin of your neck trying so desperately to hide his whimpers as he spills into you. he cums so much, it fills you up and spills out onto the bed below. you feel his cock pulse in your sensitive pussy, every rope of his thick cum splashing your walls.

he'd kiss over the skin he had just bitten into, almost as an 'im sorry' type kiss, you'd whimper below him once he pulls out and the sensation and noise of you would send shivers through his spine.

and contrary to how he fucks into you, uses you, his aftercare would be so charming, so caring. he'd clean you up, and do anything you asked with a satisfied grin on his face. he'd kiss you all over, but not in the way to start anything. just to appreciate you, and love you.

idk what came over me, I do not apologize for writing this. scene below for reference

[beanibon]

Mary on a Cross

Prompt: in which an over cocky Nicholas D. Wolfwood thinks you're nothing but a innocent, defenceless reporter. Until you have him crucified on his cross.

Warnings: smut, edging, overstimulation, cock warming, slight religious wording, praise, sexual fantasies, unprotected sex, oral (f!receiving), face-riding, suffocation, bottom wolfwood and top reader.

A/N: reader is female leaning, but please feel free to interpret reader however you feel comfortable. And don't hesitate to ask for submissions if you want something specific with another character.

🚫 Minors DNI 🚫

A crumpled cigarette hung loosely from Nicholas's heat dried lips, smoke occasionally escaping by irregular puffs of air. The Suns heat wasn't helping his predicament, grunting as glared down at the wavering horizon.

"Fuck, if I had've known you felt this good, I would've fucked you long ago."

A dark chuckled followed, watching as your body contorted by the way he held you, eyes rolled to back of your skull. One hand held you up by your chin, the other mercilessly rubbing your clit. Your back was pressed against him, gagging out a strangled cry of pleasure as Nicholas thrusted in you, the other reason you were being held up, toes just brushing against the burning sand.

"You look just a good as the Punisher in my hands, only this is way more hotter." Nicholas cooed sadistically, a coy smirk gracing his lips.

As he held you, much like he would when whirling his signature cross shaped gun, Nicholas continued to mercilessly fuck your pussy. Rough fingers spreading you open, pinching at the sensitive bud of nerves.

"Wo-Wolfwood. . ." You gasped out, eyes turning to the Undertaker. "Wake. . . Up."

"Huh?" Wolfwood cocked a brow up, ceasing all movement.

"Wake up," You repeated, "wake up."

♡~♡~♡~♡

Nicholas jolted awake, met with a sharp jolt of the car, confirming they were still on the road. Rubbing at his eyes, his gaze turned to small reporter squished in the middle seat.

You looked pathetic as you pouted up at him, a hand placed gently on his chest. Nicholas raised a brow down at you before averting his gaze, hoping his unholy fantasies remained just those.

"Sorry for you waking you, you were just really heavy, plus getting pushed into Vash's metal arm is not as comfortable as you think." A light, yet awkward laugh was heard. You knew Nicholas wouldn't apologise, he never did when he crushed you underneath him, but you at least hoped the Undertaker would be kind enough to take your words into consideration.

"Well it ain't my fault you're so comfortable, sweet cheeks." There is was, the cocky remark you knew was awaiting you.

Releasing a sigh, you shuffled closer to the snoring blonde, hoping it would save you from becoming a pillow yet again. You prayed the next town was close, what you'd give to lay comfortably in a bed, not suffocating between two men in the back-seat.

Eventually Meryl did find a town, and in good time as the cars charge was practically diminished. While everyone stretched their legs, Roberto put you in charge of finding them a place to stay, to which you ran off immediately happy to be away from group for a bit.

Nicholas watched as you walked off, Punisher slung over his shoulder, his previous dream tugged cruelly at his mind. You never paid him any mind despite enduring his constant sly comments, flirtatious nicknames, and much more. Other than that, you were entirely at his mercy, assuming he did that to everyone.

You wasted no time in sorting out rooms, relieved there was at least three still available. You figured the boys could figure out amongst themselves who would bunk with who, leaving the other to rest in peace alone, while you and Meryl share the final room.

Once everyone arrived you filled them all in, Meryl happy she you and her could have some privacy. Finally you two could fill each other in on any gossip, or silent rants you both had to bite back from the rest of your travel companions. You already knew what you wanted to spit out, flashing an annoyed glance up at the Undertaker, who selfishly snatched the single room key from Vash's unsuspecting hand.

You were quick to settle into the comfort of the Motels room, collapsing on the bed, thanking whatever god existed for blessing you with a bed to sleep on. Watching as Meryl unpacked spare clothes, eager to change into something much more light and comfortable in the remaining heat.

"Oh! I forgot to mention, Wolfwood brought your pack from the car." Meryl spoke an a slight agitated tone.

"He didn't think of giving it to me when I handed out the keys? Why does he have to be so annoying, talk about a complete dick." You grumbled, begrudgingly removing yourself from the comfort of the bed. "Guess I'll be back then."

Leaving the room, you approached Wolfwoods room, knocking on the door. He was quick to answer, staring down at you like you disturbed his seconds of relaxation.

"I believe you have my pack, can I have it please." You held out a hand expectantly, only for dark eyes to look you up and down and moving away, door left wide open.

You let out an irritated sigh, entering and heading over to where your pack rested next to the giant cross.

Hearing the door click shut, you turned to give Wolfwood a quizzical look. His dark eyes bore into yours, swallowing thickly as his leaned his weight against the door, blocking your only escape.

"You really piss me off, sweetheart. Standing with your back to me is a dangerous thing, ya know," Wolfwood stalked closer, teeth grinding together. "You seem to make that same mistake constantly, if I didn't know any better I'd say you take pleasure in it."

You had turned your back to him, not taking his words seriously in the slightest.

"Is that so?" You spoke as if distracted, index finger hooking under one of the many straps that kept the Punisher covered.

Two hands found their way onto the curves of your hips, hot breath causing the hairs to rise on your neck. "I'd say you like torturing me, someone ought teach you a-"

"Lesson?" You interrupted, a crazed smirk gracing your gentle lips. "I think it's quite the opposite, you just need to be put in your place."

Wolfwood frowned, grunting in surprised as you caught him by his collar, tugging him closer. He felt his clothes grow tighter, hands squeezing your hips as he pressed against you.

You allowed his advances, busy untying the Punisher from its restraints. It was amusing releasing how oblivious he was to your actions, until you pushed the cross roughly onto the empty bed, snapping the man from his advances.

"Take your clothes off," Nicholas froze, returning his eyes to you. His expression was clearly one of annoyance, displeased with how rough you had been with his toy. "I'm not going to repeat myself."

Nicholas chuckled, giving your waist a quick squeeze. "Impatient aren't we? Why don't we savour this moment, let me bask in the victory of taking the sweet, innocent little reporters virginity eh?"

A scoff escaped you, followed by a harsh laugh. You pushed away Nick's hands, turning to face the man, leaning in close. "How bold of you to assume that I haven't been fucked before, you're not the first man that's taken me to bed Mr Undertaker."

You close the gap, lips connecting in an intoxicating kiss. A kiss that made Nicholas relax, cupping your cheek with a hand to deepen it.

You took that opportunity, pushing him backwards on the bed, back colliding against the cold metal of the heavy cross. Thankful his clothes protected him from feeling the full cold from the machine gun.

Nicholas would've like to protest, to nip some sly, flirteous comment your way, but he was silenced by the way your arms hoisted the dress from your body. Matching laced panties and bra on full display for him to drink in, you took that moment to tug sweetly at his own clothes until the two of you began to undress him.

Once he was fully nude, hardened cock twitching in anticipation of all the things he'd like to do, to show you he'd be the only one you dared to remember fucking your brains out. The only one you'd return to for a good time.

You shuffled onto his lap, leaning down to trap him in other addictive kiss. Hands massaging over his shoulders, loosening his tense muscles and moving them where you needed them. The two of you pulled away, Nicholas smirking up at you, attempting to move a hand to squeeze your ass, only to freeze.

Nicholas swung his head down to his arms, eyes wide as he looked down at the leather straps that shielded his cross in clothe, holding him down against the Punisher itself. He went to move his other arm, only to find it in the same predicament, same with his feet.

"He-hey, the hell did you do?" Nicholas hissed, fighting against the restraints that held him in place. He was on full display, left completely vulnerable where he lay.

"Fulfilling your sick, twisted fantasies." You simply said, sitting up to admire your handiwork.

You slid forwards, sitting comfortably on Nicholas's chest. He froze enamoured by the sight, taking in your holy form that glowed in the moons light, wanting nothing more than to be inside you. Maybe this wasn't exactly what he had in mind, the position especially, but fuck you looked absolutely perfect.

Looking down at him with half lidded eyes, you smiled sweetly. "If you don't make me cum, it'll take a lot longer before I even think about making you feel good."

Nicholas opened his mouth to return teasing, only you didn't allow him the chance before you shifted your weight to his face, thighs quivering as his stubble prickled your skin, the sensation that much more intoxicating. You started rolling your hips, fingers tangled into the dark locks of the man beneath you, who's body tensed and jolted at each movement.

He groaned against your slit, nose pressed against your clit at each roll of your hips. Nicholas's let out a noise in between a squeak and a moan, eyes wide at the tightness in his chest, the realisation that he couldn't breath flooded over him and his senses. You sighed as he body jolted in protest, responding by squeezing him tighter between your thighs.

"I suggest you get to work, otherwise I'm afraid you'll pass out long before we get a chance to fuck properly." You teased, never ceasing your movement.

Eyes rolled to the back of his skull, Nicholas in desperation for air began lapping at your leaking folds. It earned him a holy moan, the noise making him see stars, or that could be due to the oxygen being squeezed from his lunges. Either way, the noises you made sounded heavenly, reaching his very core.

It felt like hours had passed, each hour leading to another darkened spot in his vision. Nicholas felt his body jolt as he truly began to feel the pain in his chest, fingers frantically clawing at the mechanisms as your pace picked up.

Your core began to throb, panting as you tugged harder on his dark locks, forcing him deeper. Your orgasm came quicker than you wished for, drenching the poor man's face in your fluids. Releasing Nicholas, he gasped for air, chest heaving as he desperately sucked oxygen into his burning lungs.

Leaning forward, you crushed you lips against his slick covered one's. The kiss was rough and bruising, knocking the air from him for the second time. Strings of saliva keeping him connected once you pulled away, decorating his face in gentle pecks.

"Such a good boy, you seem to have earned yourself a reward." You cooed, fingers circling his nipples.

Nicholas hated the idea of begging, but he couldn't take it any longer. Nick managed a strangled, breathless "please", hands clawing at the barrels at each end of the Punisher. What he would give to have them dig into those plush thighs, squeezing your ass as you bounced on his neglected cock.

"I'm sorry, did the almighty Wolfwood beg? My my, how delightful," You giggled as he let out a groaned, ass pressed against his twitching cock. "Beg some more and maybe then you'll get to be fucked senseless."

Fuck you were cruel, and it didn't help that you looked like an angel while doing it. The moonlight making you glow like some holy ghost, perhaps there was a God, for he sent him the most beautiful woman on the entire planet.

"Ple-please, I want you. Just hurry up and fuck me, I can't take it anymore." Nicholas managed to buck to hips, squirming as his restraints dug into his skin.

You didn't say anything, only smirked as you teased his tip, smeering his precum along your folds. Nicholas groaned, trying his hardest to buck up inside you.

Seeing the normally confident man unravel before your very eyes was rewarding, no flirtatious remarks, no sly comments or nicknames. You felt accomplished, all those times he teased you, made you feel like some small spec he could just walk all over. Was nothing more than a pleading mess beneath you.

Crashing your hips down, Nicholas choked back a loud moan, not wanting anyone to hear the sinful act they were indulged in. His cock felt amazing inside you, thick, veiny and massive, filling you up so perfectly. You lowered yourself further, until you had fully engulfed his cock inside you, appreciating just how amazing it felt.

Unfortunately the man below you lacked the same appreciative nature his angel enjoyed, cock twitching in desperation. "For fucks sake woman! Just fuck me already!"

You smiled at him, a look of absolute innocence present on your face. Hands placed on his chest, lifting yourself up until you were completely free of his cock, only to cruelly slam back down. Nicholas cried out, mouth agape as you roughly fucked him into his cross.

Strangled moans and cries of "fuck" were all that was heard from the man, stars forming in his vision at each harsh slam of your hips against his own. He already felt cum drip from inside you onto his balls, face red at how a single thrust made him come so quickly.

"Such a beautiful sight, my sweet Undertaker, an absolutely gorgeous mess you are. Face covered in my cum, I believe you've already cummed twice." Your voice sounded so sweet, so enchanting, Nicholas knew he came for a second time, your cruel pace milking him for all he's worth.

Praises poured from your mouth akin to honey, sweet and sensual. Perhaps you were the devil in an angels body, seducing him to sin so carelessly. Nicholas lost count of the amount of times he came that night, body limp as you continued to roll your hips, pain and pleasure merging into a beautiful display of fucked senseless. He knew he looked stupid, drool dripping from his lips, eyes rolled to the back of his skull, tears staining his tanned, cum stained face. Yet despite it all, he looked beautiful to you, as he mumbled incoherent word vomit.

Once you reached your high for what felt like the millionth time that night, milking Nicholas's cock dry, you release the poor man. Watching as his cum leaked from your dripping pussy, the scene awfully sinful.

You leaned down freeing the man from his restraints, not like he had any strength to move anyway. Brushing the stray locks of hair from his face, as gently as possible you moved from your seat, hauling the practically lifeless man off the Punisher and pushing it to the floor.

You knew Nick would have no strength to clean himself up, so you did it for him, grabbing a towel and cleaning the mess from his face and aching cock. He tried mumbling something, causing you to laugh, he sounded so precious.

"Just rest Wolfwood, let me take care of you now." You hummed, placing the towel on the dusty bedside table.

"Nic-Nicholas. . ."

"Huh?"

"Call me Nicholas." The man panted out, eyes never leaving the wooden ceiling.

A sweet smile graced your face, tucking the exhausted Undertaker under the thin sheets before crawling in next to him, pulling him into you. He instantly buried his face in your chest, hands tiredly exploring your body, something he wasn't able to do prior.

You felt perfect to him, skin soft against his rough, calloused hands. You were beautiful, even if you were devil.

"Go to sleep Nicholas, I'll be right here." And sleep he did, gladly passing out with you snug in his arms, tracing small circles on his back.

♡~♡~♡~♡

Nicholas groaned as the sun peeked through the tattered curtains, pain erupting all over his body as he attempted to turn away. His whole body was stiff, muscles screaming in protest to the simplest of actions.

"Take it easy, you had quite the night last night, don't wanna overdo it." A familiar voice called out, causing Nick to jolt upwards hissing in pain from his body and the splitting headache.

"Hey! I said take it easy!" You yelped, helping to steady him holding a flask up to his lips, in which chugged down. "Sorry, I should've given you water before you fell asleep, it probably would've lessened that headache."

So it wasn't a dream? Wasn't some sick fantasy he had fallen asleep to? You really did fuck him crucified on the Punisher?

He eyes met your unfazed, yet cheerful face, giving him an innocent smile.

Yet he knew just how uninnocent you truly were.

"Oh and another thing, we got a noise complaint, good thing the owner isn't gonna charge us since it was our only one." You laughed, watching as Nick's face turned red.

"You really are a fucking devil."

A/N: Hiya everyone! I hope you enjoyed, this is my first post on tumblr and I wholly accept constructive criticism as I've only ever posted in private discord servers.

Let me know what you think and I look forward to do more in the very near future!

[fruitsoxs]

hello socks:)) I absolutely loved both your jealousy drabbles, and the midnight munchies too, thank you so much!! there's this thought that's been in my head for a while, may I ask a drabble about it? if you feel like it, of course!

Since No Man's Land is a huge desert, people obviously wear practical clothes more than anything (a priest being the exception that proves the rule), so how about Wolfwood and Vash seeing their crush (reader) in elegant, fancy clothes for the first time?

sorry this took so long!! i wasn't exactly sure how to go about this for awhile lol

warnings; some slight nsfw on wolfwoods end. nothing too graphic though!

Vash

It’s  a bit of a shock when Vash gets the invitation. He had just got done saving some random kid from a group of bandits, he had no idea she was the daughter of some family

The father immediately offers to host a celebration to thank Vash for saving his kid

Because he’s humble, Vash says it’s not necessary, but the family insists. So he’s stuck going to a random fancy event as the man of the hour

He invites you, because of course he does. There’s nobody he’d rather go with

You are given some money to buy clothes and Meryl takes you and runs

She helps you pick out the nicest clothes she can find

It’s not what you’re use to, but you can’t deny the fact you look kind of good

The night of the celebration you meet Vash outside the inn you’re staying at

You look…well.. Amazing

Your hair is done, your clothes are beautiful, and you have this shy unsure smile that makes Vash want to melt

His jaw is on the floor

He can’t stop looking at you.

“You…look…wow.” is all he can probably say. Something dumb because he can’t find the words to describe you.

He cannot stop looking at you the entire night

At the party everyone is trying to flood his attention, but all he wants to do is be with you lol

Asks you to dance, and his hands are all shaky

It’s a really sweet, soft moment. 

HOWEVER 

Everything comes to a stop when somebody recognizes him as a wanted criminal lol

Suddenly the two of you are being chased through the city in your fancy clothes

He keeps apologizing, but you just smile and laugh

You truly do love him

“I’m sorry-” he gasps for the millionth time that evening. Pressed behind a wall, hiding from any prying eyes. You shake your head. “It’s fine Vash. It happens.” you whisper. You’re trying to catch your breath after being chased down the street. “It’s not fine.  It was such a nice evening, and I ruined everything.” he mumbles, his gaze cast downwards.

You sigh. “Vash seriously-” He cuts you off. “I mean the food was great, and the dancing was amazing, and you look beautiful! It should have been a nice night, but of course just me existing-” this time you cut him off, pressing your lips against his softly. He lets out a shocked gasp, but eventually his arms wrap around you as he kisses back.

It’s  a soft kiss. 

When you pull away, he’s smiling again. “Vash, I had fun tonight. I have fun with you every night. I don’t mind being chased around a bit.” you mumble, face still close to his. “You didn’t ruin anything.” you end this statement with a small peck on his lips. “I promise.”

He pulls you in for a hug, pressing your face against his chest. “I’m glad.” 

Wolfwood

Wolfwood is fully confused about the entire ordeal

He doesn’t understand the need to sneak into some party

No matter how many times you explain to him that you’re trying to get some information he doesn’t get it.

But whatever, he’ll play along. Maybe the food will be good- and there might be some fancy rich person champagne 

He puts on some stupid suit - it isn’t much different from what he usually wears. He just actually has to button it up (a shame)

And he waits for you to get done with whatever you’re doing to get ready

When you walk out, he has to keep himself from physically reacting

You look…stunning 

He begins to think this party might not be such a bad thing if he gets to see you like /that/

He smirks playfully and offers you his arm

You know that smirk means he’s planning something devious, but you just sigh and take his arm so he can escort you to the party

You have to sneak in, but it’s pretty easy. Wolfwood distracts the guards, and you flash them your best smile. 

Once you’re in you immediately start crawling around to look for the information you want- but wolfwood has other plans

He likes you. He likes you a whole lot, and he wants to enjoy this evening with you

He starts pulling you to the dance floor, making some excuse that you two gotta act the part

It’s kind of a clumsy dance, but you have fun

By the end of it, his hand goes a bit lower and you look at him with your lips parted

You don’t get the information you want

Instead wolfwood takes you into a secluded room so he can have you all to himself 

And he /finally/ kisses you…and maybe a bit more

His lips are on yours as his hands travel downwards. You whine a bit and push against him, trying to tell him it’s not the time for this. He doesn’t care. He just shoves his tongue into your mouth and pulls you closer, gripping your waist tightly. You let out a soft moan and give up, letting him do as he wishes. You want this too- to hell with what your original plans were.

He smiles a bit, and nobles on your lips as he pulls away. “Good.” he mumbles, his voice dropping an octave lower. His hands continue to travel down until the door to the room you’re in starts to open. You grab onto him and quickly pull him in the closet. He lets out a soft gasp, but follows your direction.

Before anybody can see you, you’re trapped inside the small room, back pressed against the closet door with Wolfwood hovering above you, his arms on either side of your head. His body is so close to yours. On the other side of the door you hear two people start to fight, but you don’t care. Not when Wolfwood drops his head to press his lips against your neck. It seems you’re in for a long night.