#i started reading vashwood fics guys i finally did

[dearherondale]

My absolute favorite thing after finding a new piece of media is opening ao3 to find what are the fandom-specific tags and likes.

Unique experience, everytime

[prettyboywolfwood]

enjoy the moment (it won’t last forever) | vashwood | E | read the full fic here, excerpt below with more under the cut

Despite their initial hang-ups at the whole…situation, Nicholas considers this to be good progress. Stellar, even, if he says so himself. Maybe he’s tooting his own horn a little, but anyone who got Vash the Stampede relaxed enough to be spread and glistening between his thighs would too. Good start, but he isn’t done yet.

Nicholas sits back on his knees, resting hands on his thighs with a low whistle-whine in appreciation as he looks the younger Vash up and down.

There’s an airiness to his eyes that doesn’t match up to the Vash he knows. It hurts to look at, to know what’s looming on the horizon for this guy. Nicholas isn’t here to change that path, any deviations from his experiences will have to come by their own hands. No, Nicholas is here to change one thing, and one thing only; a little push and shove where he knows it’s needed.

He stares for longer than he should, eyes tracing familiar yet distant scars. There’s more lost tech on Vash’s body, and where his scars etch beyond raised rough skin there are deeper valleys of scarred skin that appear alien to him. The flush of pink from cheeks to chest gives him that angelic look that Nicholas eats up every time he bears witness to it. Never mind Vash’s clear excitement and what it took to get him like this.

“Do you have to look at me like that?” He says, pathetic enough to make Nicholas reach to pinch at the plush meat of his inner thigh. “Ouch!”

“D’aw, that didn’t hurt for real, did it, sugar?” Nicholas teases as he watches Vash carefully, picking up on the quiver of his lower lip and hitch in his breath. He knows what buttons to push, what can get Vash going. There are bound to be plenty of differences between the Vash he knows and the one laid out before him, but Nicholas is willing to bet that his experiences with his Vash will give way to the perfect blueprint tonight. Laying it on a little thick should be just fine.

Vash shakes his head, tentatively looking him in the eyes. Nicholas searches for hesitation, nerves, any hint that Vash may want to back out. Where he finds none, he smooths over the spot of soft skin where he pinched with the rough pad of his thumb as a sweet apology, with intent to make it sweeter.

“Remember what I told ya. You say the word, and this stops,” Nicholas says, shifting to lay on his belly, Vash’s swollen cock and shiny wetness decorating his upper inner thighs mere inches away from his face. He subconsciously licks his lips, ready to devour and take Vash apart.

He half expects the younger Vash to still, to question and pause their night. What he knows for certain is that things between this Vash and his version of Nicholas are less than experienced together. It’s bizarre to think about another him out there, but he’s old enough to recognize when younger him could’ve used a little push.

Especially about Vash.

However, Nicholas is pleasantly surprised when Vash nods and tightens the grip holding his legs open as Nicholas had instructed him to do earlier.

“I remember. Red. I’ll say that if I need to, but please, Wolfwood—“ Vash’s eyes are glazed with anticipation, a look Nicholas knows well.

And, well. That’s all the encouragement he needs to dip down and finally lap at Vash’s cock with his tongue, lingering to circle around him at a lazy pace.

“—ah, o-oh okay, that’s—“ Vash reels with a shiver, biting into his lip in a vain attempt to quell the noises leaving him, which he would call rather embarrassing.

Good thing Nicholas isn’t concerned with trivial things like shame right now.

[shingansoul]

For the Little Sisters and Crybaby Boys (Trigun fic)

Summary:

Vashwood week day 7: Free day

So I have wanted to start trying to write more about my thoughts on Vash's relationship with the other plants for awhile and so I thought the perfect way to ease into it would be for the concept of "Family", something that has such specific connotations for sides of Vashwood. I hope you enjoy!

@vashwoodweek

To read on AO3, follow the link below. To read here, continue past the read more!

“So, ‘little sister’ eh?”

Vash startled hard, stopping dead from their walk through town as his metal capped boots dug into sand and almost pitched himself forward to fall. Wolfwood stopped a couple steps ahead, grinning cheekily back at his companion’s over dramatic reaction. While the blonde was still windmilling his arms to keep his balance Wolfwood lit a cigarette and brought it to his lips. He got a good long drag out of it before Vash finally caught himself and trotted up to him to close the distance once more. When He stood next to the priest again, wolfwood playfully blew the smoke in front of his face in lazily floating “O” ‘s instead of a steady stream. Vash blinked and with a pout he swatted them away with a gloved hand before walking onwards to continue their casual stroll.

“That’s a hell of a question to ask a guy on the way to breakfast, dont’cha think?” 

His voice trilled a bit with a bit of a forced chuckle for lack of knowing how to respond. Wolfwood canted his head in Vash’s direction, humming thoughtfully.

“Well, there’s not exactly a scheduled time and place to ask someone about talking to plants the way you’d talk to your sibling, not that i’ve ever heard at least.”

Vash made a sour ‘you got me there’ expression and sighed, crossing his arms for lack of idea of what to do with them. 

“Well… they are my siblings, sort of…not like Knives is, but..” He nervously glanced at Wolfwood, gauging his reaction before trying to move onwards. To Wolfwood’s credit, he didn't stop nor did he say anything in return. He did however let his eyebrows shoot up into his bangs and his eyes look over his sunglasses to meet Vash’s own greenish blue ones with a look of surprise. After a few moments he let his features relax but his attention was just as intent on the other to continue. Vash sighed, a mix of releasing nerves he still had and letting himself relax from the bracing he had done for any possible less favorable reaction the priest might have had.

“We were born much later than the others, the plants I mean. They were all…,” He paused, unsure what word was best before he settled on, “ made back on earth, before they sent out the people that would be the first one’s here on this planet. Not that they were supposed to come here specifically but…” He laughed awkwardly, unwilling to meet the others' eyes.

Wolfwood took the moment to let himself slide the step of distance between them over as they walked, pressing their shoulders together and occasionally their legs would gently glide against the other’s as they walked. Vash let his lips quirk a little at the action, glancing up at Wolfwood in silent appreciation. 

“Some were made specifically for that trip, while others had been around for many hundreds of years before I was ever born. So technically they’re closer to like…my aunts and cousins or even my grandma by a good few greats? But they can’t really take care of themselves like I can, they’re working so hard for everyone else here. So..since they always need cared for, I like to think of them as my little sisters who I can sometimes give relief or even guidance to. Th-that’s probably a bit unfair to say about them, and maybe it’s selfish to say they can’t-...well.” He stopped himself, shaking his head as if to physically shake off whatever thought line he had caught himself going down without realizing it.

“I can feel them, their pain, their emotions and desires, and I can share my own with them as much as I can take on theirs. And they’re the only ones like me and Knives, so… they’re family to me, even if the concept isn't really for things like us i suppose. If we can give to the humans, I think maybe it’d be okay to take on things from them too. Having a family has always felt nice to me.” 

He offered a smile to the man at his side, a bit small but it felt genuine so Wolfwood offered one of his own briefly. He let his gaze fall to flit about the town around them, a few scattered stores and stalls wafting scents of anything from soap and leather to metal and various foods both tempting and appalling alike. The blend was a bit overwhelming admittedly, but aside the scrunch of his nose in reflex he didn't mention it. It wasn't much longer until they arrived at where Vash had first excitedly been pulling him early that morning, a small stall smooshed into the space between two strips of buildings with various shops and the occasional home attached. The smell from it wasn’t as strong compared to the mix in the air around them, but noting the various treats and breads on display in the glass box atop the counter made him shoot Vash a fond look of faux exasperation.

‘Donuts, of course.’

The man in question was excitedly bouncing on his heels as they reached the end of the decently short line for the stall, impatience and enthusiasm radiating off him in waves. Wolfwood let his mind wander a bit as they waited, Vash’s mindless prattle about potential various options not lost on him but nothing new to need his focus or response. 

“Having a family has always felt nice to me.” 

Wolfwood certainly understood and shared the sentiment, his very mission being based around that very bond. Family, what was it but those you cared for and those who cared for you in return? Did it need to be anything more than that? Wolfwood couldn't guess at what exactly the plants in their bulbs could possibly do for Vash specifically, but they did give life to the numerous towns that Vash drifted between across their planet so maybe that was how they showed whatever love something like them could. Wolfwood had known since before meeting Vash that he was as inhuman as the thing full of hate and violence that the Eye of Micheal worshiped and killed for. However, over the years together Wolfwood had decided that Vash’s inhuman nature took on the form of benevolence no selfish human could ever match to oppose the unforgiving cruelty of his match. And it was in that compassion and love for the unloveable Wolfwood had nestled himself quite firmly, so he of all people could tell you that Vash loved his “sisters” and most if not all living things alongside them. So yeah, he could certainly see how they were just as much family as his own.

“Nicholas, you just have to try one of these!” 

Wolfwood snapped back to attention, the use of his first name usually reserved for important or emotional moments between them so he was worried at first. However, before he could even say anything, the blonde now in front of him (when did he side step him?) quick as a snake shot forward and shoved something into his mouth. He squawked a bit indignantly, taken off guard but after a moment he took in the flavor; it was warm though not piping hot and the dough seemed to almost melt in his mouth. It was coated in a light sweet icing and what seemed to be some kind of cinnamon flavored syrup. It might have been the most extravagant tasting thing he had ever eaten, and he reached up to greedily shove the rest of it in his mouth, not allowing Vash the chance to possibly snag the rest of it back. Vash laughed happily, turning back to the stall owner and ordered another couple of the gourmet(price and advertising be damned, he knew good quality shit when he tasted it) donuts. 

Without thinking, he licked his finger tips one at a time trying to make sure he didn't waste any of the syrup or glaze. He caught Vash’s owlish blink and head tilt in this action, neck growing hot out of mild embarrassment but the wide smile and warm laugh that Vash gave in return made it more than worth it. To get a look like that just for him, he’d do much more without regret than a little childish desert eating. Having by now finished paying and receiving the rest of their haul, Wolfwood let himself be led by the crook of his elbow across the street towards the main plaza where there were a few unoccupied benches. Vash all but dead dropped onto the first one they got close enough to, dragging Wolfwood down beside him earning him a light flick to the head as punishment but they were both grinning despite themselves. Once settled, Vash almost desperately rooted through the bag, grabbing another donut and passing it to Wolfwood’s waiting hands. He only then fished one out for himself and bit into it with an exaggerated moan that bordered tears of joy.

Wolfwood slung an arm over the back of the bench behind Vash, nibbling at his own treat much more slowly than the first one had been killed off. Vash was mostly distracted with his treat, but he leaned back so that his shoulder blades were against the priest’s arm to offer some kind of casual contact. Wolfwood waited until Vash had calmed down most of the theatrics and was simply eating before he decided to offer almost too-casually a bit of himself forward. After all, it was only fair.

“I guess mine are like little brothers and sisters too, by that logic.” He said it without looking at Vash, so he heard rather than saw the cocking of his head in interest as he hummed in interest while chewing on the current bite of pastry in his mouth.

“Nobody at the orphanage is actually related to anyone else, we usually got kids left on their own without a chance anywhere else, not whole broods or anything like that. And twins aren’t the most common, unlike with you, needle-noggin. But everyone is like a big family there, Miss Melanie always taking care of everyone and the older kids chipping in with the younger ones to lighten the load. It was hard work living there, but it was…it was really nice honestly. I don’t know if anyone that was there last I visited is still there, but the little ones would always look up at me with runny noses and wet eyes and I always ended up caving. They’d always…they’d always call me…” 

He had to pause, realizing that as he went on, he felt his throat burn a bit and there was a certain pressure light but certainly there in his nose. Had he really almost-? He felt a hand rest on his thigh, squeezing it gently and he looked over to see Vash offer him a small smile and understanding eyes and he leaned into his space a bit more.

“What did they call you, Nicholas?”

This time, it felt right hearing his first name spoken so gently and coaxingly from the blonde’s lips. He inched his foot outwards until his knee pressed up against the smooth metal of Vash’s kneepad. It was cool against his skin through his pants, grounding him a little as he swallowed back down the lump in his throat from earlier. Regaining his composure, he closed his eyes and leaned his head back to rest against the back of the bench they sat on.

“Nico-nii.”

“Would you…like to tell me more? About the kids at the orphanage all the way in December? About the time you were their Nico-nii? You don’t have to of course but…”

With the taste of sugar on his lips and the warmth of his only friend against him, he nodded slowly and began to recall. And he hoped on this bench in a nameless town to the south, he could instead think of December and the crowded but humble streets of its market district. Of kids playing games outside while he fed their thomas’ and helped Miss Melanie hang the laundry. Of him watching and carrying around babies and coaxing little crybaby boy’s that the orphanage was a nice place to live in a world like this. And he hoped that Vash could see it with him some day.