#vash head cannons

[monsterunderthesheets]

A little head cannon where when Vash climaxes, his plant marks will start to appear and glow brightly in the dark. And the better he feels during sex, the brighter they glow.

[omeletttte]

Ngl I love how a good chunk of the Trigun Tumblr fandom all headcanon Vash as trans masc like it warms my cold heart

[pancake-breakfast]

I think chapter 2 of TriMax Volume 6 might just be my favorite thus far. Everything in it hinges on this one iconic scene.

This isn't the first time Wolfwood has pointed a gun at Vash's head. Maybe it won't even be the last. But it holds a bit more weight here because just a few pages ago, we saw a flashback where Wolfwood pointed his gun at someone else's head.

His hand shakes as he aims at Knives. His breath is heavy, and the memory of the Fifth Moon incident is fresh in his mind. He knows if he can just pull the trigger, he can end it here. This being of destruction will be gone, and maybe this time his fancy scientists won't be able to bring him back.

But then Knives does Plant things, and under the weight of it Wolfwood finds he just can't follow through. He fears his own death too much, and Knives will surely kill him.

When he points his gun at Vash, it's different. His hand is steady, his breath calm. The memory of everything that happened at the Dragon's Nest is fresh in his mind; just this morning he warned Meryl that she and Milly should remember that, despite his ideals, Vash is still a loose cannon that they'd do well to avoid. He thinks to himself that if he can just pull the trigger, if he can just take out the less intimidating of the brothers, then one of these monstrous twins and half of the problem will be gone.

This time, there's no crushing sensation of oppression. There's no air of fear and malice. There are no threats or memories of twisted promises. There's only a look, wary and concerned...

...but even by the time this happens, Wolfwood has already lowered his gun. He's decided not to pull the trigger, not because of an immediate threat on his life, but because... well, it's Vash.

Wolfwood surely knows that if he pulls that trigger, he catastrophically fails his mission, and whatever consequences might await him on the far side of such a failure aren't going to be anywhere near pleasant. But it doesn't seem like it's fear of Knives that makes him lower his gun. At the very, very least, Wolfwood knows no one stands a better chance at taking down Knives, but he also knows Vash. He's seen Vash's fake smiles and knows his real ones. He understands Vash's ideals despite very much not wanting to and not knowing how he could possibly accept them for himself. He's fought side by side with Vash, and been standing at his back since day 1.

And before this night is out, only a few minutes after pulling a gun on Vash, Wolfwood's right back there again, moving in tandem with Vash, being a human shield so they can accomplish Vash's goals together.

It's only when the fight comes to a close that Wolfwood realizes that's what he's been doing. He didn't put any thought into falling in step behind Vash, didn't dwell on the fact that Vash trusted and moved with him during the fight. It's only afterwards, when they stop to catch their breath, that he realizes Vash hasn't looked his way through the whole battle. That Vash didn't need to look his way through the whole battle.

Not only did Vash trust Wolfwood at his back, but he knows Wolfwood well enough to move intuitively around him, not hesitating and always understanding what Wolfwood's about to do. And at that moment, Wolfwood realizes two things:

First, that there's no way Vash didn't notice when Wolfwood pointed a gun at him. If Knives could figure it out while half dead and barely knowing Wolfwood, then Vash, who's awake, alert, and has spent plenty of time with Wolfwood, can surely figure it out.

And second, that when he's fighting back to back with Vash, nothing else really matters. All his (quite legitimate) fears about what Vash is and how dangerous he can be, about Knives, about finishing his job, about what he himself has become... they all melt away. He's where he needs to be, where he should be, and that's all there is to it.

[raindropsyndrome]

I have a head cannon where Vash’s eyes are reflective like a cat’s

Happy spooky month

[to-eat-laugh-love-in-peace]

Shout out to how Brad being initially hostile and wary towards Vash upon learning that he could speak and understand human speech in Tristamp, with him raising his wrench in a defensive position, something that Luida rightfully admonishes him for,

only to come to put in the effort and the time to acknowledge when he’s treated him unfairly, even cruelly at times,

to reflect on the choices he’s made and the actions he’s taken and how it led to things going down the way they did,

to apologize for what he’s said and done, and to continue to support and be there for Vash however way he can

such as through providing him with the best prosthetic he could give him after he came back to Ship 3 with Luida missing an arm and continuing to repair it every time he comes back home with it damaged,

heading out to the outskirts of Hopeland where the sandsteamer was after Vash damaged his prosthetic arm from lifting the ion cannon and passed out from exhaustion from working together with the ship’s Plant to slow the ship down and keep it from crashing into Hopeland,

defending him when Wolfwood doubted Vash for his goal to save everyone, telling him he’s strong enough to find a way to make his dream happen when he himself would have doubted his words too long ago,

and helping him achieve his dream by assisting Luida with her terraforming project using flora in place of Plants nicely contrasts how the people on Ship 5 who were experimenting on Tesla in Trimax reacted with joy and excitement upon learning that she could speak and understand human speech and what this could mean for the development between mankind and the Plants

only for them to pointedly ignore what she actually says, refuse to see her as an actual living being who they’re committing a number of ethics violations on, and regard her with a very detached, very clinical assessment of her physical, emotional, and psychological state, all the way up until her body fell apart. @tristampparty

[strawurberries]

Oh my god! Berry I had an idea and I had to come running to you with it cause I thought you'd enjoy it too (and cause your writings awesome) but,

A Soulmate AU where you can hear the other person's thoughts?

With Vash, Wolfwood and nai please! (Separate obviously cause I honestly think having all three as soulmates would just be too much xD)

Whether headcannons or a little scenario thingy I leave up to you 😁

Hope you have an awesome day! - 🍰anon

Soulmate Head cannons

Summary: Head cannons with little drabbles about Soulmates <3

Authors Note: I'm sorry this took so long! Finals are finally over so I can focus on writing :) I hope you all enjoy!! Also I wouldn't mind having all three as soul mates. . . but ya know 😂

Warnings: Self-hate, mild sexual themes, angst, cursing, mentions of religion and murder.

Vash didn’t know what an ocean looked like—deep, painfully blue, and so cooling yet full of dangers unimaginable—but he assumed it had to be something similar to the sight before him: sand dunes rose and fell like the chest of some great giant, tumbling across the horizon without thought or remorse. Compared to the vastness of sand before him, he was nothing but a speck of dust—smaller than the grains of sand that covered this desolate, prison-like planet. Part of him was comforted by that fact, knowing that in the grand scheme of things he would be nothing but a passing memory—no one out there to judge him, hurt him, or even see him. Yet he also hated the loneliness of it all. Looking out and seeing no life but himself, it only served to remind him what he was. 

Vash the Stampede:

“Shit!”

He paused, feet sinking into the dry sand below. A semi-cool wind hit the back of his neck. “Hello?” his voice echoed out into the world around—hello. . . hello. . . . . hello. Nothing responded and he adjusted the strap over his shoulder. He must really be losing it now. He had suffered from heat stroke before, had experienced delusions, and been near deaths’ door due to the pounding suns above, so, unfortunately, he knew what might be happening.

He stood still for a moment, longer. . . nothing. Okay, perhaps this was a one time delusion and he’ll be fine.

“How the hell am I going to get out of this alive?!”

He whirled around, looking for any sign of life—the person of whom the disembodied voice belonged to. After a moment he confirmed his suspicions. There was no one around. He groaned and covered his face, thinking to himself: “the heat must be getting to me. . .”

“What?”

He blinked, “What?”

“Who are you?”

“Who are you?” he yelled out into the vastness of the desert. No one responded. “What the hell?”

“Great! I’m getting shot at and I’m hallucinating!”

“What is happening right now?!”

“You tell me! You’re the voice in my head!”

“No, you’re the one in my head!”

The first time you two met—and by that, I mean: the first time you two heard each other—was a mess. You were busy running for your life, and he was wandering through the emptiness of a sandy sea. Both of you, due to different reasons, thought you were going insane. You thought the adrenaline of the situation finally made you snap, and that this run-in with danger took the last bit of your sanity. Vash, on the other hand, swore the heat was out to kill him again and he ignored you for the most part—no use in talking to a delusion. It was only after you both reached safety and had a night's rest, that you both came to realize this was something more than hallucinations.

“Uh. . . so. . . are you real?” Vash thought to himself as he washed his face in the sink, the morning sun starting to make the hotel room feel like an oven.

“Of course I am! . . . are you?”

From then on you two talked a lot, and bonded immensely considering the other’s deepest, darkest and most intimate parts are on display. 

Vash tried desperately to keep the fact that he’s a plant and an outlaw a secret, but simply thinking about how he wanted to not think about it, made him think about it. And, therefore, you heard it all within the first five minutes of knowing him.

“You’re Vash the Stampede! The humanoid typhoon?!”

“Uh. . . no?” He thought about how stupid of a lie that is.

“I can hear your thoughts, Vash! You can’t lie!”

“Aw man I forgot!”

Really, Vash was terrified at first. Having someone able to hear his thoughts? It meant his act, his silly persona, was useless. He was laid bare in front of a person he didn’t know, had never seen, and wasn’t even sure if they were 100% real. No matter what lie he constructed, the truth would be sitting somewhere in his thoughts; easy to access, and even easier to talk about considering there was no way to ignore each other.

“Vash?”

He didn’t want to talk today. A mother had been killed, he had been shot in the shoulder, and ran out of town faster than he had ever known was possible. Sitting by himself in a crude rock formation, miles from any town with the moons shining down on him with pity. He wanted to be alone—to wallow, and think, and cry, and grieve for what was lost and what could never be.

“Vash, I know you're throwing a pity party right now.”

He wiped some tears from his eyes, watching the stars. 

“Vash, Vash, Vash, Vash, Vash, Vash—come on! I know you're hurting, but it wasn’t your fault. Nothing is. The whole space ship thing? Not your fault. Your brother? He’s his own person, you can’t control his actions—his decisions aren’t on you. The deaths? Inevitable, Vash. Everyone dies someday.”

“But they died because I was there!” He hated showing this side—the pain, the anger, the grief. He didn’t deserve to feel this way. His life, the wandering and suffering, was his punishment for failing to save the people he loved. He didn’t deserve comfort.

“When I finally meet you, I’m going to slap you upside the head before giving you the biggest hug you’ve ever felt.”

He blinked. “Eh?”.

After the rocky start, the weird emotional trauma bonding, and the insecurities—Vash fell hard. Having someone who could peer into his very soul? It, despite feeling so terrifying at first, made him feel so understood and. . . safe. This person has seen the very worst of him, the bottom of the barrel, and yet they chose to keep on talking to him. And, of course, normally Vash would take those emotions to the grave. He doesn’t deserve love. Whoever loves him, whoever he loves, will end up dead. But those thoughts, quite literally, are destroyed the moment they are given tangible sound. 

“I love you too, so I need you to stop thinking that I shouldn’t. Even if you keep running away—” despite the fact that he so desperately wants to meet you he’s terrified you’ll get hurt, and runs away the moment you're in a hundred mile vicinity—“I’ll still love you. And one day I’ll find you Vash. I promise that.”

He sobbed for about an hour straight after that.

He really does want to meet you, it’s the truth, but he needs to confront his fears before he can enjoy your love without guilt. 

Wolfwood:

Wolfwood couldn’t fall asleep. The lull of the bus hadn’t hit him yet, the rocking and groaning metal not a lullaby but a shrieking reminder of how far away from civilization he is. Usually he’d be passed out by now, cigarette limply hanging between his lips, but he had opted to twiddle with it between his fingers. The smoke curled around his palm, lazily rising up into the musty air of the bus. No matter how long he closed his eyes for, how many sheep he counted, or how he positioned himself, he couldn’t reach the comforting arms of sleep. Eventually he gave up, annoyed that everyone else on the bus—excluding the driver himself, thank god—had managed to peacefully drift away into their dreams.

“I’m tired. . .”

He blinked and chuckled quietly, “you and me sister.” He turned away from the window, taking a small drag of his cigarette as he turned to see who had spoken. A lady across the aisle looked at him, tilting her head. He gave a small wave and she turned away quickly. 

“Rude,” he thought for a moment before sighing. Maybe he should try to go to sleep again.

“Hello?”

He blinked and looked around. Surely someone must be sleep-talking. Right? “Wish I could be sleeping,” he looked around once more, eyes lingering on the lady across the aisle who was now starting to doze off. “This sucks.”

“Okay, I’m hallucinating now. God damn it. I knew that I shouldn’t have eaten that sandwich.”

He turned around, looking behind him, and then back to the front where the bus driver was humming a song to himself. “What. . .?” Pure confusion was all he felt. Earlier he had spent several hours in the sun, but the heat couldn’t have gotten to him this bad. . . right? Right?

“Oh God, please make this food poisoning death quick. I’m not into pain.”

Sleep deprivation must really be getting to him. This is going to be a long ride.

Chaos. Absolute chaos. 

Part of Wolfwood thought for a moment he might be getting possessed—he tossed that idea aside quickly but he did consider it for a moment before shaking his head. The other option, he thought, would have to be that the stress of trying to find the Humanoid Typhoon finally caught up to him, and he’s in the middle of a psychotic break. But he remembered hearing that you can’t be aware that you’re in psychosis so. . . where does that leave him?

“Has God really forsaken me this time?” he grumbled, stumbling off the bus and waiting for someone to toss the Punisher down to him.

“I hope not!” came the voice again, “I already have bad luck. If god hates me then I’m really a goner.”

Both of you came to the conclusion fairly quickly that there was no demon or god involved, nor were either of you dying or having a breakdown. Wolfwood, unlike Vash, accepted the situation a lot faster. He was confused and apprehensive at first, after all, no one likes showcases their true, intimate selfs—but he got over it fairly quickly. If this was what fate had given him, he would accept it. After all, it didn’t seem to be too horrible. What’s the matter with appreciating the good things in life?

When he gets bored he’d just stare off into space and annoy you—doesn’t matter what you're doing, or what he’s supposed to be doing. He’ll call your name over and over and over, or start preaching until you tell him to shut up. Sometimes, though, he will start talking about the dirtiest, strangest things you’ve ever heard of until your interest is piqued or until he can hear a reaction from you. Either way, no matter what method he chooses, you’ll eventually be talking to him.

“Here’s another quote, ‘Give your burdens to the lord. And he will take care of you. He will not permit the godly to slip and fall. Psalm 55:22’. You know, personally, I’ve always thought that bible verse—”

“Please shut up. I will literally kill you.”

“I’d like to see you try, Doll.”

His favorite pastime is annoying you, making you flustered, or straight up saying the most out of pocket shit you can ever imagine. And, the funny thing is, you always know what he’s trying to do yet he still manages to get a reaction. It doesn’t matter if he spends several minutes brainstorming before saying what he wants, and it doesn’t matter if you try and prepare yourself, he is a master at being a cocky, loveable bastard.

He does hate when you manage to get him to talk deeper about himself, when you bring in the comfort and philosophical talk. Deep down he knows this life isn’t something he wants to partake in, he doesn’t want to go down the path that has been chosen for him, but what other option does he have? 

“You don’t have to kill.”

“How am I supposed to survive if I don’t? This world is built on blood, and one person trying to make it better isn’t going to do shit.”

“Well, I actually think it’s two people trying to make it better. Can’t say I’ve ever killed anyone.”

He was slightly salty when he got that response. 

He didn’t fall first here, but he most certainly fell harder. His heart is a little petrified, and he often lets people in, but only deep enough to where they feel accepted yet can’t glance at anything too important. It’s like if he invited you over to his home, showed you the kitchen and living room, but kept every other door locked and closed. Yet you had the key and essentially broke every lock in one go. He still doesn’t know if he hates or loves it.

He also desperately wants to meet you but, like Vash, he’s terrified you’d get hurt. But his love and desire outweigh his nervousness and, besides, he’ll protect you with everything he has. If he must die for you, so be it. So, the moment he is sure of himself he asks where you are. And, of course, you knew this was coming, and he knew you knew, and you knew he knew you knew. Make sense?

“Do you want to meet in person?” he thought about how much he wanted to see them, feel them, hear them with his ears not with. . . his mind? He wasn’t really sure how this whole thing worked.

“Of course! How could I deny you when you’re practically begging?!”

“Begging? You haven’t seen me beg yet. . . and now that I think about it, I haven’t seen you beg either. That must be a pretty sight, huh?”

Bastard. He’s a bastard.

Million Knives:

Knives were pissed. No matter how loud he played the piano, or how many plants he surrounded himself with, he could not get that annoying little song out of his head. A solemn, lonesome hum that echoed through his mind like nothing he had ever heard—and it infuriated him beyond anything he had ever known. At first he had assumed it was the sound of the pipes, the mechanical building breathing with man-made life, but once he found himself in the desert, alone, he knew that wasn’t the case. It crossed his mind for a moment, a moment, that he might be having some mental issues but he quickly tossed that idea out the window. He could never have any problems like that, never. 

He brushed his fingers along the piano keys, thinking of problems past and future, thinking of what is to come and how he should deal with it all. His own thoughts, he noticed, almost drowned out the humming; that was, until, a voice blew through his troubled mind. 

“Woah, you’re a plant?”

He whirled around, ready to mame and kill whoever had managed to infiltrate his base. . . but no one was there. “Come on out now!” he seethed, “and I’ll make your death painless.”

No response but the clacking of gears and the hiss of steam.

“Audacious human,” he spit out in his mind, already thinking of different ways to kill whoever dared to address him. He began to stalk the room, eyes snapping from one corner to the next. “They can’t hide long. I’ll find them.”

“Why are you so violent? Geez. . . well, I mean I guess it makes sense but don’t you get tired of being angry all the time?” The voice trailed off and began humming that infuriating tune. A vague thought that wasn’t his came to the forefront of his mind, wondering if it was worth eating the stale bread or if he should—wait no, not him because this isn’t his thoughts—they should wait until they get paid tomorrow to eat.

He ignored the mundane thoughts and confronted the voice in his head, “you’re the one who’s been singing that idiotic song?!”

“Wow, you’re rude too. Who would’ve guessed?”

The conversation devolved very quickly after that.

To be honest, you’d be found very, very quickly. Unlike Vash, Knives won’t avoid you; and unlike Wolfwood, he won’t wait until the time is right—he’ll rush off into the desert and hunt you down in less than a week. Finding a stranger is surprisingly easy when you have infinite access to their thoughts. At first he was angry and only wanted to find you so he could cut your head off, but soon—despite his hatred for admitting this—he found you interesting.

“I’m coming to kill you, and you’re not worried at all?”

“I’ll die someday, and besides, I think I’m starting to charm you.”

“I will rip you apart.”

“Sounds sexy.”

You infuriate him on so many levels he doesn’t even know where to start. 

Actually, he does know where to start. You peer into his mind and learn everything about him and oh my god that pisses him off because now a human—a mere human!—knows everything about him: his trauma, his fears, his past, his brother. And he has now way to stop you from learning about him. Out of pure spite, though, he tries his best to learn nothing about you. . . but that plan fails quickly.

“I’m going to kill myself!” you cry out in your mind, rage edging at the tone of your words.

“Please don’t, it’ll take the joy out of me torturing you.” 

“I’m already being tortured! My boss sucks! Ugh! I’m going to kill him!”

He has a tiny, second-long urge to say he’ll kill the man for you before he literally gags with disgust. He had never been so glad someone was distracted because if you had focused on his intentions in that moment you would have teased him until he showed up on your doorstep and killed you. 

Over the course of the couple days he spent tracking you, he unwillingly came to be invested in your life and found a small amount of joy when he debated with you. 

“Humanity sucks, yes, but we can be good!”

“It doesn’t matter if you can or can’t. What matters is what you’ve done, and what you’re doing. Your potential means nothing when compared to the damage you’ve done.”

“. . . damn it why are you smart. Also, I didn’t do anything! I was just born!”

“That’s a sin in itself.”

“Okay, well, gotta call you out on that one. Being born is not a sin, also, what are you? A preacher? Jesus Christ!”

“Don’t use his name in vain.”

“What?”

After he gets over his initial repulsion and hatred he finds the look into human life interesting. You’re pitiful, weak, and disgusting yet you still push on. Why? Why? Why?

“Why not?’

“It’s useless.”

“So?”

“So. . .?”

“I got you, the great Knives, tongue tied? Wow, I can die happily now.”

Overall, it takes a while for him to fall for you. At first it’s purely rage, and then it’s curiosity, and then. . . maybe he’d call it interest. He wouldn’t fall first and he wouldn't fall that hard, but he’d still appreciate you in some capacity. 

[kindagayfish]

Do you have any NSFW head cannons for vash? Or maybe what Vash would be like if he were to fall in love? (I am so down bad for him)

A/N: Omg thank you for being patient with how long I took with this and thank you so much for the ask! Vash is just so...so...*screams into pillow* I love him

Contains: Vash being a loveable dork, nsfw headcanons, written with afab reader in mind but nothing is ever explicitly said,

Vash Being in Love and NSFW Headcanons (below the cut!)

Depending on which Vash we are talking about (tristamp or 98) will determine how he acts with you when he’s in love but not willing to admit it.

Vash from the 98 anime is a flirt. He’s having fun without getting attached and loves to tease a bit, acting goofy to get your attention. He catches himself one day with weight behind his words as he compliments you…he also catches himself blushing when you decide to flirt back

Tristamp Vash is a bit softer, more careful. He keeps you at a distance emotionally but is still so kind and attentive. Finds himself growing protective of you under one day you smile at him after saving you and he’s just gone.

Either way he refuses to admit it for a LONG time. People around him get hurt. He’s focused on his brother. There’s just no time for romance.

But I think that’s what finally gets him, the fact that time with you is limited. It takes you a while to convince him that it’s okay to be selfish, to want love, that he deserves it.

His biggest love languages are words of affirmation and quality time...probably followed closely by physical touch.

Vash is always there to lift you up with his words, sing your praise, give you a shoulder to cry on, be a punching bag for your feelings. Whatever you need, Vash is there to provide it.

Loves to hold your hand while traveling

If you ever need his attention, just say his name sweetly, he’ll be at your side in seconds

Might teach you how to shoot if you ask nicely, although he makes you promise not to kill anyone. It brings him a bit of comfort to know you can defend yourself

You catch him staring at you all the time with literal hearts in his eyes. The first few times he gets a bit embarrassed, but after a while will shamelessly admit it

NSFW:

I feel that Vash is a switch but heavily sub leaning. Loves if you're the one calling most of the shots but has no problem flipping the script on you. Actually prefers it some nights where you either haven't seen each other in a while or he's had one too many drinks.

Pathetic, whiny, whimpering, crying, literally doing the most at every given moment.

You'll be able to pull some of those growls and deeper moans out of him though if he's feeling particularly possessive

Everything with him is so soft and sensual, trailing kisses up and down each other's bodies, whispering praises and words of devotion that only the two of you could hear

LOVES when you tug on his hair

Calls you angel, mayfly, pretty girl/boy

Loves any position where he can see your face, and so that he has the opportunity to kiss you at anytime, stealing the breath from your lips as you move your body against his.

He'll curl his body into you when he's close, panting heavily and not able to hold back his high-pitched moans. It's a pretty sight to see, his face flushed red along with his ears, eye shut and furrowed brows.

I love the idea that Vash's wings would sprout any time he is feeling extremely emotional. So of course when you're intimate there is a burst of feathers, the soft appendages acting on their own to embrace you protectively, pulling you all the more closer to him.

Boy's got hella stamina and will opt for multiple rounds. You'll have to be the one to tap out or else he literally will. not. stop. He'll let you fall asleep in his arms if you get too tired. Otherwise his favorite is when he falls asleep laying on your bare chest, your hands running through his hair.

[triplesilverstar]

Back on Home

ating: 18+ Minors DNI

Pairing: Vash X F!Reader

CW: Canon Typical Violence, mentions of injury, blood and injury, Medical inaccuracies, Kidnapping, Angst and Tragedy, Emotional Manipulation, Manipulation, Mind Games, Unplanned Pregnancy, Tragedy, Non-Consensual Drug Use, Emotional/Psychological Abuse, Abuse

Word count: 1.7K 

A/N: Chapter Two of JuLai.

You've been kidnapped by Millions Knives, and you learn some of what his plans are and the reason why he's been stealing plants. As well as how you're the bait for his trap to ensure Vash comes to JuLai, all to ensure Knives can put the pieces of his plan into action. All to create a paradise, one that you doubt is going to be any kind of paradise that you or Vash would ever want to be a part of. Maybe, just maybe the two of you will find a way out of this town. Too bad Knives has a plan to keep you down as well.

Still in your shared bedroom Vash has his arm reattached, and before long learns you're no longer on the ship.

Once Snipes was gone Vash rubbed the back of his neck before holding out his arm for Brad to get to work reattaching his arm, watching as Wolfwood placed his cross against the window of his bedroom before leaning against it. Almost as if he was waiting to say something instead of having a conversation while Brad was working the connections on his arm. 

“You really did a number on it this time, Brat.” His voice is gruff as Brad works on reconnecting the metal hand and inner wire to connect to his nerves. Wincing as the first of the connections is made and Vash feels the tool moving along his arm. 

“Well, I did try to stop a cannon.” Vash’s sheepish smile does nothing to alleviate the frown on the older man's face as he works. At least it’s a familiar pain for the blond as the sensation of the metal wiring that makes up the nerves reconnects to his flesh ones. Given how many times Brad has done this, it doesn’t take long before his repaired arm is reattached. 

“Roll your wrist and fingers.” A short laugh as Vash goes through the motions, feeling the joints and digits respond to what he wants them to do and starting on the other range of motions, familiar with the drills. “Looks like the connections are good, feel any pain?” Catching Brad’s eye and shaking his head in the negative, even if there was pain he wouldn’t have said anything. 

As Brad rises with a crack from his back Vash stands himself, grabbing his coat from where it’s hanging next to Snipes. His fingers briefly brushed the cuff of Snipes's jacket hanging there, feeling the heavy fabric and a sense of comfort washing over him. At least until Brad coughs and Vash lets it drop before going back to sitting at the end of your bed. 

The room grows silent as a weight seems to drop around it, like a calm before the storm and Vash notices Wolfwood seems to be done holding his proverbial breath as he stops tapping his feet. Pushing himself away from the wall. “Needle noggin.” Pausing long enough to make sure he has the blond's attention before he keeps going. “Riddle me this for a moment will ya.” A swallow and Vash looks at the floor almost as if he expects this to not go well. “When you get to Knives you aren’t stupid enough to think you two can just talk this thing out are ya?” 

Hearing the question Vash feels his mind going into overdrive because he did think they’d be able to have a conversation. Yes their paths had followed different courses and their last meeting before Jeneora Rock had resulted in him losing his arm over a century ago, yet even then they had been able to talk.   

“Geez blondie!” Hearing Wolfwood get ready to launch into some speech about how Vash needed to learn to clean up his own messes had him opening his mouth to cut him off.

“I won’t kill him.” Even to his own ears, Vash knew his voice was low but it still carried his convictions with ease. “I’ll never kill. Never again.” Thinking of Snipes and her own values that were so similar to his own reinforced his belief he was following the right path raising his head to stare at the dark haired man. “ I’ll figure out a way to save everyone. The humans. The plants. Nai too.” 

“An empty promise is just a lie.” Vash doesn’t bother to lift his head, he can hear the daggers being thrown his way in his voice. “The day’s gonna come when you have to pick a side. I hope you pick right.” 

“I used to be like you.” That pulls Vash from his musing, tilting his head to look at Brad sitting at the small table in his room and playing with the edge of a framed photo, one that has all of the members of Ship three from when he first arrived and was granted access to the entire ship. “Thinking it’s black and white. Thinking that Vash is as full of crap as anyone of us.” Turning to set his eyes on Wolfwood while settling more into the chair. “Ask him yourself you sound just like me.”

“Alright Grandpa, sure” It doesn’t take a genius to figure out the undertaker doesn’t believe the older man’s words. Though if Vash is being honest he isn’t sure Brad is right either, there have been a lot of people he’s failed over the years. It doesn’t matter how many he saves when the weight of those failures take up so much more of his head space. 

“Vash is a tough kid. Hang around him long enough and you’ll see.” Vash isn’t so sure of that, he’s survived a lot but he wouldn’t see that as making him tough. 

None of them get a chance to respond as the door to the room slides open, Vash half expects to see Snipes saunter back in and growl at Wolfwood still being in their bedroom. When panting reaches his ears as Luida leans against the doorframe with sweat running down her face his heart starts to race inside his chest.

“What’s wrong!” Rising to his feet as the surprise colors his words, swallowing back a bit of his panic. 

Luida is panting harder while trying to keep herself upright. “The worms were here.” Coughing from the exertion as Brad stands beside her, offering her his arm to lean against. 

“Catch your breath Luida.” A waiver of concern in his voice as well as he takes in the flushed cheeks and racing chest. “What do you mean the worms were here?” 

“They.” Coughing again before she swallows and lets her eyes settle on Vash. “They took Snipes, and the two reporters from the atrium.” 

Vash doesn’t hear anything after that his body reacting before the words have a chance to sink in, his long legs pounding under him as he races past his oldest friends down the hallway towards the atrium. A chill sweat forms along the back of his neck as his legs guide him, his mind a swirling storm of panic. ‘Please let Ludia have been wrong. Please let her be there.’ The fear gripping his heart is worse than anything he’s felt in a long time. ‘I can’t lose someone. Not again.’ 

He isn’t even panting as he slides to a stop dropping to his knees in the center of the walkway within the atrium. 

No one else is here. 

It’s silent. 

Raising his flesh hand and slamming it down against the concrete in frustration. The one place he always thought the two of them would be safe in, and his love had been stolen while he was in their bedroom feeling sorry for himself while his arm was reattached. 

Vash feels numb. Numb as the sense of having failed another person he loved takes hold of his mind.

Looking down at his hand, aware the only damage his rage did was to himself as a series of footsteps reached his ears while his fingers show signs of bruising. 

Pushing himself to his full height as he trains his eyes on the cracked panels of glass that shards still fall from. It’s a miracle the panel in the center of the spider web of broken veins didn’t give, but Vash can see the gaps that are just big enough for the flying pests to get through. The curve of the glass inward told him the gap had been larger, but he doesn’t understand how the worms could have taken Snipes and the reporters. “Worms huh” Almost whispering to himself as the others join him.

“Up there” Luida no longer sounds out of breath, and Vash has to wonder how long he sat on the ground in his misery while images from the security system that monitor the outside of the ship flash up against the glass. 

“That’s Zazie, no doubt about it.” Narrowing his eyes as Vash stares at the image Wolfwood has pointed out, a familiar figure under the sentient worm’s arm that he could recognize anywhere slumped over as if unconscious.

“And that’s Snipes under his arm.” Another image nearby shows Roberto and Meryl being carried by larger worms with their bodies hanging in the air in a similar manner. 

“Why didn’t they take you too?” Wolfwood turns to Luida and Vash already knows the answer. 

“They had to leave someone behind to run and tell me.” Turning on his heels to place a hand on Luida’s shoulder. “I’m glad you’re safe but I can’t ignore this, it’s an invitation.” 

“An invitation to where?” 

“JuLai.” Taking a deep breath before smiling at his friend and starting to walk away as he begins to head for the hallway to go lower into the ship. “If I had to guess, Nai is done waiting for me to arrive and he took Snipes and the others to force me to come running.”

“Then you know it’s a trap.” Wolfwood’s voice is low, just loud enough to be heard by all three. Vash lets out a long exhale at the utterance of what everyone else in the room has already concluded. 

“I’ve known it was a trap since Jeneora Rock.” Squeezing his abused hand into a fist. “Hey, Brad? I need to use one of the Tomas.” Vash can’t delay the inevitable any longer, not with your life possibly still on the line and now the reporters as well.

It isn’t long before Vash and Wolfwood are both on Tomas racing across the dunes towards JuLai. Brad and Luida had both been happy to supply him the mount and both had said the same thing, to look after himself and get his partner back. His radio in his ear as he listened to the broadcast to try and focus on getting to the city as soon as possible, to cut down on the risk of his twin losing his patience and ending your life. 

The words he heard Roberto say shortly after he first met the duo and during the chaos of E.G. the Mine echoed inside his skull. 

“Stick around him long enough, and you’re swept up and away into the Typhoon. Damn, good nickname.” A sense of foreboding settled into his gut, just how much truth is there in his nickname? And were you about to pay the price for being with him as long as you had?

Back to masterlist for series

[cripplingoptimism]

Distractions [3/3]

Gonna wrap this up in 3 parts. Previous here.

Yo, WHAT was happening on Twitter this week?? Every time I opened the app there was a new analysis of the Goddamn couch scene. I didn't think Trigun could hurt me any more and yet here I am in a new spiral over an internet stranger's hot take.

Anywaaaaay, I've had this brainworm way before whatever angst got a hold of Twitter. I've always interpreted Vash and Wolfwood’s relationship as 'right people, wrong time'. But honestly, I love every interpretation of them - platonic, soulmates, lovers, etc. So, through these comics I wanted to show moments during their journey that conveyed the gradual evolution of their relationship (as I head cannon it lmao). Canonically, Vash never gets to tell Wolfwood how he feels and my poor little heart has been in denial about that ever since. So this is my *slight* rewriting of the series of events leading up to Wolfwood's solo journey.

At this point in the manga (ch. 50) I wanted to show that, despite the 7 month time skip, it's like no time has passed between them. They're still comfortable and casual with each other, still seeking the comfort of distractions - Neither of them wanting to shatter the illusion of normalcy in this moment. And I feel Vash would be the first to ask for more when reality comes knocking (through Wolfwood's fist lol).

He knows, even in a best-case scenario, his time with Wolfwood is limited. And while Vash is just as shackled by duty and guilt as Wolfwood, he carries an optimism about him that Wolfwood lacks. He needs Woolfwood to know how he feels so he can live without regret, regardless of the outcome. As such, he takes the leap. Wolfwood, unfortunately, cannot bring himself to share in that optimism. He’s too absorbed in worry about the orphanage, the children and especially Livio. His heart is screaming at him, but he knows he can’t afford to be distracted by his “selfish” desires. So, he rejects Vash by being realistic and hopes he can see that he wants this too, but just can't bear the impending heartbreak due to their circumstances. Vash does see this. He swallows his disappointment and heartbreak, earnestly grateful for the relationship he still has with Wolfwood.

I know my characterization feels like it conflicts with the moment on the couch; Vash can't even look at Wolfwood for that entire scene despite Wolfwood being the one to try and connect with him ("You look better...when you smile."). However, I never saw that moment as Vash rejecting Wolfwood. Not in the traditional sense at least (maybe an inadvertent rejection). Vash wanted more between them (to share his tomorrows), but not like this - not as a deathbed confession. He's heartbroken and grieving and (somewhat selfishly) can't see that Wolfwood just wants to enjoy his last moments with the one person on this planet he can call an equal and a friend.

Speaking of the dreaded couch scene, I don't think I can add anything new to the discourse, but I will say the tragedy for me really lies in all the emotions Wolfwood goes through:

Being at peace with his death ("This is the way you want it?" "Yeah."). It's what he believed he deserved, with all the blood on his hands, and the mutation of his body, he assumed he could never return to his previous life with everyone at the orphanage.

Grieving for his future (confetti). Wolfwood never believed he could be forgiven. The children celebrating his return showed their acceptance of him, welcoming him back regardless of his sins. He was worthy of forgiveness. His guilt prevented him from even entertaining the thought of forgiving himself. There must have been regret in those tears.

Seeking comfort from the one person he grew to truly trust and Vash not being strong enough to give it. I already mentioned this above, but Vash not even being able to look at Wolfwood throughout the entire couch scene tears me up.

From the narrative's perspective, Wolfwood needed to die. And even knowing that, it still absolutely destroyed me (and still does). Not just because he died, but because right before his death, he was given a glimmer of hope - that had he survived the fight with Livio, he would have had a chance at happiness.

Last side note here: I've seen discourse online explaining the entire scene is a metaphor for a wedding and I just wanna say, you'll be hearing from my therapist.

[cassicallyclumsy]

A few questions for the Trigun fandom (any iteration):

If Vash from Trigun was in a modern AU or human do you think he'd wear floral patterns and stuff with plants and wings on it? Like more natural clothes, and even more sustainable for the planet?

If human, would he wear floral/natural scents? Like cedarwood, rosemary, flowers, etc.

And if not a human in the AU do you think he smells like an actual plant?

My head cannons currently are:

Chronic Pain - Nerve pain due to the scarring and phantom limb pain

Enjoys floral/natural scents and patterns

Trans masc but identities with the plant xenogender

Says his gender is like a biblically accurate angel

Thank you for coming to my Ted talk!

[heich0e]

pleaseee can we get some nai college head cannons!

this is not headcanons my apologies

part of the trigun college!au (nai/f!reader)

You hear the jingle of keys against the marble countertop down the hallway. The thump of a backpack hitting the floor. The swish of plastic bags. The sound of footsteps drawing nearer to you.

“Hey, I picked up takeout from—“

Nai turns the corner into Vash’s bedroom, one hand curling around the doorframe as his tousled, white-blonde hair comes into view.

“Oh.”

You watch every trace of softness in his face harden. Harsh lines and ice overtaking the momentary glimpse of warmth you’d caught in his expression.

“Hi!” You wave from your place in Vash’s bed. You have a cozy blanket wrapped around you and your laptop resting in the cradle of your crossed legs. Your essay sits neglected on the screen, forgotten now even in spite of the looming deadline, your eyes glued instead to the boy hovering in his brother’s doorway.

“Where’s Vash?” 

Nai has a tone that makes people flinch. You’ve seen it happen countless times with your very eyes—on campus, at the convenience store around the corner from he and Vash’s apartment, even at the rare party he frequents. But no matter how terse his words might be, you never do.

“He accidentally stole Nicholas’ laptop charger when we were on campus earlier, he just ran over to bring it back before Nico’s night class.”

At the mere mention of the brunette, Knives’ expression turns even more severe; his upper lip curls in visible disgust.

“He’ll be right back,” you add, smiling softly.

Why are you smiling?

Nai spins on his heel to slink away, but you stop him.

“Did you say you got takeout?”

“I got my brother and I dinner,” he makes sure to emphasize who the meal was meant for, though he doesn’t spare you a glance over his shoulder.

You laugh into your fist as he slinks away back towards the kitchen, and you hear him clunking around huffily as you return your attention to your assignment.

You reach for your cellphone after rewording a sentence that really doesn’t matter instead of adding another one that does, pulling up your text conversation with the boy whose bed you’re sitting in.

(6:15pm) Nai’s home! Hurry back or he’ll kick me out again plssss

As soon as you hit send, you hear a suspicious jingling from somewhere in the room. It’s too conveniently timed to be a coincidence. You slip your laptop off your lap, pushing it to the side, and lean your body over the edge of the bed to peer down at where you’d heard the sound coming from. Lo and behold, Vash’s cellphone is resting on the ground next to his bedside table. It had probably fallen off the bed while the two of you had been toiling away at your respective school work, just before he made a mad dash to campus when he realized he’d accidentally come home with two laptop chargers instead of one—and gotten a strongly worded text message from the other charger’s owner (who’d obviously just come to the same conclusion.)

You sigh, plucking Vash’s phone up from the ground. He’s constantly losing the thing, or cracking the screen, which is a little ridiculous considering the brightly-coloured case he has it wrapped in—cute little cartoon characters are printed onto the red plastic, and he’s added various stickers (and scratches) to accompany them. You’re laughing a little at the design when the phone jingles again.

6:16PM - New Message (1) Nai: Hi. That girl is here again

6:16PM - New Message (2) Nai: She’s in your bedroom

6:16PM - New Message (3) Nai: When are you coming back? Where are you? If you (…)

You snort to yourself as message after message pops up on the screen, the latter part of the last one lost to the cut of the notification preview. You know Vash’s passcode, but you also know it’s not your place to see what his brother is texting him—not that the younger sibling would care.

But you suspect someone else might.

You pad out to the kitchen, Vash’s phone clutched in your hand.

Nai is standing in the kitchen in front of a mountain of takeout containers. They’re from a fancy restaurant uptown you know he likes, because Vash had mentioned it on a few occasions. Nai tends to have more… particular tastes than his little brother, who you’re fairly certain would be happy to eat out of a convenience store for the rest of his natural life.

The elder twin hears you come in and glowers at you at you hover in front of the island in the open concept kitchen, the expanse of marble separating you.

“He forgot his phone,” you say, holding up the device in front of you demonstratively. 

Nai’s brow creases, his lips tugging down at the corners in an even deeper frown than before. You watch as he lifts his hand to rub at his temple in frustration.

Knives hates it when Vash doesn’t have his phone. Or forgets to charge it. Or loses it. Or cracks the screen. Or does anything that impedes him from getting in touch with him.

“I’m sure he’ll be back soon,” you assure the elder of the two brothers, setting the phone down on the countertop. “He left a while ago and he was coming right home.”

The phone is snatched up from the counter almost as soon as your hand has pulled away from it, and Nai shoves it into the pocket of his joggers. You watch as he reaches for his keys next.

“Are you going to find him?” you ask, and Nai ignores you, tugging his jacket on.

“If you leave now, you’ll probably just end up missing each other. He’s probably already in the elevator!” you call to the blonde’s retreating form as he stalks towards the front door angrily.

“It’s not even dark out, and campus is only 10 minutes away.”

He stuffs his feet harshly into his sneakers, though he’s careful not to crease the backs.

You glance around furtively, looking for another excuse to keep him from needlessly going chasing after Vash.

“Hey, if you go, do you mind if I have some of this?”

Nai whips around just in time to see you leaning over the counter to slip a finger under the edge of one of the takeout container lids to peek inside. He crosses the apartment towards you in three long strides, leaning over and snatching the box out from under your hand with a sneer.

“Was that steak?” you ask, eyes wide and sparkling, your hands clasped in front of your heart.

“None of your business,” he snaps.

It is steak. Wagyu. Cooked to a perfect medium rare.

Just the way he likes it.

He opens his mouth to snap at you again, probably about touching things that don’t belong to you, or getting the hell out of his apartment, when the front door swings open.

“Honey I’m hoooooooo—”

Vash spots Knives sneering down at you on the other side of the apartment, craning over where you’re leaning against the kitchen counter, faltering to a stop. The fist-full of heavy convenience store bags he has clutched in his hands rustle as the swing in his grip.

“Oh, hi Nai! You’re home early!” Vash smiles when he sees his brother, his eyes crinkling at the corners behind the round lenses of his glasses. He kicks his tattered boots off clumsily in the doorway before approaching you both. “I got us dinner! There’s lots, so we can all share!”

You see a twitch of irritation in his older brother’s jaw. Nai takes a step back from you.

“You left the house without your cellphone again.”

Vash’s eyes widen in the wake of his brother’s words. He uses his free hand to pat along his pockets, and then winces sheepishly when he realizes his mistake.  “Sorry, sorry! Had to run to campus, and I must have left it—”

Nai reaches into his pocket and retrieves the device, holding it out to his little brother.

“What’s the point of a mobile phone if it stays in one place?” Nai mutters sullenly.

Vash takes it appreciatively, tucking it into his own pocket. Then he spots the containers on the counter.

“Woah, what’s all this?” he asks excitedly, craning up onto his tiptoes to peek around his brother’s shoulder at the food on the counter behind him. “Did you pick up food too?”

“My meeting with the department chair was shorter than I expected, so I thought it would be nice to eat together. I didn’t realize we’d have company.” Nai’s gaze flickers resentfully to you from the corner of his eye.

“Well, there’s so much food here now, it’s a good thing there’s three of us!” Vash chirps happily, turning to you. “You’ll stay, right?”

Your friend’s face is alight with expectation.

Behind him, Nai is scowling.

You smile brightly.

“Of course!”

[dogrom]

Unhinged I'm unhinged. They live in my head rent free, and Razlo goes full puppy around Vash. Yes this an Au I'm not trying to make them very cannon-like. Peace and love

[rabbitprintart]

okay I need to get this outta my system because realistically I won't be able to draw this in a while but at least wanna write down my head cannons and au AND I'M DRIVING MYSELF INSANE EVERY NIGHT!!!

Anyways, I've been meaning to make/explore an au where Trigun takes place in my motherland of Tierra Caliente, yes I know it's incredibly self indulgent, but where I live, questions of climate change and agriculture are constant within the community, it's a weeeee bit lawless, and I can see so many opportunities of weaving those ideas together with those of the original Trigun series. I just think the reason Trigun speaks to so many of us Mexicans is for the same reason we have an insane clown culture, or the "laugh now, cry later" attitude. I have never seen 2 anime/characters that embody the Mexican spirit and struggle like fucking Vash the Stampede and Nicholas Wolfwood (if you ignore the DragobBall IP lol). So far the ideas that I have are:

Vash and Knives, and all the plant aliens, are representations of ancestral Mesoamerican culture of having intricate stories about twins, duality, and nature. Really wanna dig into the idea of Vash being some kind off shoot of Quetzalcoatl and Knives of Tezcatlipoca, probably even paint Knives in a more charismatic light because tbh my man has some points and I don't blame him lol. Knives does remind me a lot of the cynical Mexican who has been wronged so much in his life that he can not understand a world that isn't evil therefore sees the only solution the destruction of all, just pure nihilism. It's unfortunately more common than you think, especially in men :{

Really weave in Mesoamerican thought, art, and philosophy with Mexican Catholicism. It will be more obvious through Wolfwood, and it makes a lot of sense in my mind since a lot of Rancho people unknowingly hold onto our native thoughts and customs without realizing, even if it has been repackaged through Catholicism (ex: Dia de los Muertos)

Commentary on the insane chokehold the idea of Family as the supreme value in Mexican people through Knives

Ranchero Wolfwood, El Dark (Darks means Goth in Mexican Spanish slang lol) Vash

OKAY NOW FOR THE ONE THAT ABSOLUTELY IS KILLING ME!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Plants are seen as saints by the average Mexican even if the majority don't know about the plant angels inside, so much so that they are constantly offered milagros and have town celebrations for them, but they all have been slowly exploited and killed by the humans who were meant to protect them due to greed. Vash has a collection of the milagros he has salvaged from all his sister's graves and he ties them into his coat. Knives also does this, but they both do it for different motives, Knives mainly does this is as a reminder for his hatred of humanity, Vash mainly for his love for his people and endearment towards humans for thinking well of them, a reminder that he is not much of a monster as he has been made to believe. I literally made myself so emotional last night because I imagined Wolfwood making a milagro shaped in the Passionate Heart of Christ and offers it to Vash right before he dies LIKE SHUT UP! SHUT THE FUCK UP!!! SHUT UP ME!!!!!! ME VOY A MATAR !!!!! AAHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!

In conclusion : Nightow, you are more Mexican than you think, I'm giving you the beaner pass

*cultural context for the non-Mexicans: Milagros are these tiny, usually silver, metal charms that are sown into the velvet of Mexican Catholic statues/icons as a sign of gratitude, a commitment of lifetime devotion, and appreciation for the idol for helping the individual make their prayer come true. Basically, people go to a saint, angel, etc., pray for them to help them (Most common prayers are to physically heal wounds, help with addictions, grief, have children, etc), and if the prayer is answered (the person is healed, they get their dream partner, have kids, etc), then the figure will be offered a Milagro that takes shape of the miracle (a healed leg, breasts for breast cancer, eyes, hearts, etc) and the devotee will sow it into the idol's clothes or their altar as an affirmation of their power and existence.

[pancake-breakfast]

Trigun Stampede Episode 11 Spoilers

CW: Discussion of rape and abuse

Knives taking control of Vash in July is just so much more visceral in Stampede than it was in '98. (I did read some of Maximum back in the day, but it was still coming out at the time and I remember almost none of it for some reason, so I can't really compare.)

In '98, Knives just kind of forces Vash's arm cannon to go off. Meanwhile, TriStamp goes full-on rape imagery that proceeds to extend not just to Vash, but to all their sisters around them, too. TriStamp Knives doesn't stop at physically violating Vash, either, but proceeds to eviscerate Vash's mind, systematically stripping away everything precious to Vash and replacing it with immense feelings of guilt and self-doubt. It's absolutely an abuse technique, but while most abusers would do it over an extended period of time, Knives forces it all on Vash in a matter of minutes.

And, of course, like so much abuse and rape and the like, it's done fully in the name of love. Knives justifies every action he takes because he tells himself he's doing it out of love for Vash, when really he's doing it out of his own fear of humans and likely of his own isolation. Nai has constructed a world in his head where the only person who can understand him is his twin, Vash. The fact that Vash has never understood certain tendencies of Nai doesn't factor into the calculation. For Nai, there is only Vash. And because of that, he thinks that for Vash, there should only be Nai. Any other option is inconceivable.

While it remains to be seen, it seems like this particular version of events might mess with Vash far more than the version in '98. In '98, he at least retained some of his memories, but in TriStamp? Knives is trying to take away literally everything. He's even ok washing away all previous memories Vash has of himself so long as the version of Vash on the far side of all of this lines up with what he thinks Vash should be. Or can be molded into such.

[whirlwindimagines]

Hello! Seeing as your request are still open I thought I'd drop one in! Could I get some hcs about knives with a mostly human soulmate? Like they were experimented on or something and can't die as a result?

Hope you have a good day/night!!

Yessss, let me write about Knives! Thanks for indulging me lolol he's so complicated I love it :) I could fix him. Lol I see you asked for Head cannons and I wrote a whole ass one-shot, I’ll post it later. I’ll be honest I saw Knives and was like yes must write. I also didn’t read the soulmate part, the one-shot isn't about that but this is, and since you didn't say which trope, I picked one! :) and of course, this got long 

Knives with a mostly human soulmate (Soulmate AU Soulmates find each other by touch when you touch for the first time you just know) 

Knives:

You just kind of ended up in Knives group, there was no place for someone like you out in the world you knew that. It was too complicated. Human, but not truly it didn't take people long to see the wrongness with you.

While you didn't agree with everything the Eye of Michael did and stood for it gave you purpose and that’s what you needed. 

You didn't care about the experiments they ran on you; your genetic code had already been fucked with and it simply didn't matter at this point if they wanted to figure you out so be it. 

Keeping to yourself usually, meeting and interacting with Knives had been an accident you weren't looking to stick out, some of the members were more zealous than you, and you weren't into any of that. 

The Doctor wanted to run a test on you, and whatever he found must have been interesting because he left the room telling you to wait right there. You did and when he came back with Million Knives you figured you were fucked. He doesn’t even say anything just grabs your face to look at you, and well now you’re really fucked. It's like a bolt of electricity, you gasp and you watch his eyes widen and he drops his hand as if you burned him. Now you're really fucked. Because this had to be cruel joke soulmates?

You are only a little scared when he grabs you by the arm and drags you out of the room. You can hear the doctor asking questions behind you, but Knives ignores him. When he brings you into a grand room and throws you against a piano your hands hit the keys like a final note.

He doesn’t kill you; Knives doesn’t know what to do with you. Rem had told him and Vash about soulmates, how nobody understood how it worked but was possible no matter what the circumstance. He figured that didn't mean him. 

Thus starts a very rocky relationship between the two of you lol he's possessive, but like it's not like he cares about you. Sure, he makes sure you are safe, and that nobody harasses you, and if the experiments stop, that’s not HIS doing or anything. 

You have no idea what to do with the guy like he's not the nicest but he doesn’t act like he openly hates you??? So, you see how far you can take it lol It starts with kind words, spending more time with him, and soft touches. You’re pushing it and confusing him not that he’ll ever tell you. 

There is a breaking point, you're sent on a mission and well you don't come back. At least not when you were supposed to when you eventually drag yourself back to the base you are nearly half-dead the mission went more than wrong. You can’t die, but that doesn’t mean you are invulnerable to pain. 

You are rushed to medical and Knives feels dread he doesn’t know what to do and for the first time in a long time he feels helpless he hates it and he’s confused by it. He’s the first person you see when you wake up. It’s not super noticeable but there is a shift in your relationship with Knives. He’s softer in a way and more open to talking and being with you. 

It takes a lot of time, and there are a lot of ups and downs but the two of you figure it out. You both never say exactly what it is that you have, but it works and you wouldn’t change it. You sticking by his side, and he's doing the same for you, no harm will come to you while you are with Knives.

[strawurberries]

General head cannons for Vash the Stampede p.2

Summary: General headcannons for Vash the Stampede.

Authors Note: n/a

Warnings: Slight nsfw and angst, mostly fluff.

He also loves playful banter and flirting! But he also hates when the tables are turned on him and you gain the upper hand (at least, that’s what he wants you to think. Don’t tell anyone this—ever—but he actually adores the teasing. He’ll pretend he despises it but in reality, it opens something up in him that he’s a little too nervous to explore). When he has the upper hand though? An absolute menace. He may be devoted, a follower, and someone who will give their soul to you if asked, but he also has that little bastard in him that tells him to make you turn red until you kiss him to make him shut up. 

“You’re a brat,” you had said once, grabbing his hair. Fingers tangled in his damp golden locks, water droplets sliding down his chin from his shower minutes earlier.

He had opened his mouth to respond but the slight pressure on his head. . . you pulling his hair? He was too distracted. He wanted to snap back, grin and see that cute little flustered look on your face but. . . brat? You called him a brat? Oh no, he’s feeling something.

“Cat got your tongue?” you snickered, “where’d all that confidence go? Pretty boy~?”

In that moment, he wasn’t sure if God or the Devil was before him—regardless of who it was though, something was telling him he’d enjoy this interaction nonetheless. Perhaps he wouldn’t mind if his God had a little sadistic side—he blushed and shoved that thought away with such speed it put his gunslinger skills to shame. 

You just grinned, “oh, you love this, don’t you?”

He, quite literally, thought he was going to have a heart attack.

Give him a little praise, maybe a kiss, and he’ll be so far lost in love he’ll do anything you ask. He says that it’s brainwashing but you deny it every time.

“You can’t be human! You’re a witch or somethin’!” he cried, reeling back looking at his bag of two—well, now one—donuts. 

You grinned and took another bite, “you said I could have it!”

“You brainwashed me!”

“Eh?! How would I even do that?”

“You tell me!”

(He cried a little bit over the donut, but you gave him a kiss to cheer him up. He asked for three more before you told him to stop and then he stole another)

In public though, he refrains from touching you as much as possible. If anyone got wind that the “Humanoid Typhoon” got a lover. . . he doesn’t want to think of what would happen. He’ll sometimes indulge in some hand holding, a quick hug, and maybe, just maybe, a kiss. He won’t do anything else though, no matter how much he wants to tackle you to the ground and smother you right there. Your safety is put above all else, even himself and his own wants. He feels bad that he can’t offer you a relationship in public, that he has to don his outlaw persona and watch as you are pushed to the side, but it’s for your sake. If you’re okay, he can bear anything.

Broken bones, cuts, bullet wounds, even a broken heart—he’ll take it all on to keep that smile on your face.