Hi, how are you? It’s been such a long time since you’ve been active on this account. When do you plan to start posting Trigun headcanons again? I really miss your headcanons… Please give us a sign of life! 💙🙏
I got so much going on lord help me I think I'm pregnant again...
hi hope ur having a great day, my request is pretty basic but i rlly yearn for modern au boyfriend vash.... like imagine dating him in modern college au, the type of guy who studies with you, matches clothes with you even just colors, sends you pictures of every cat/dog he sees, etc you know those type of simple dating stuffs in modern times :D
Modern? (Modern AU Vash x Reader)
Note: I'm warning you I never even made it to college spare me I don't know much 😭
You sit at your desk, your laptop open and books sprawled out in front of you. Your eyes feel heavy and there's a dull throb in your head. You pinch the bridge of your nose with a sigh.
"You ok?" The sound of Tiktok audios comes to a stop and Vash looks at you from your bed.
You look up at him, squinting past your laptop light to see his face. "Not really. All this work had got me swamped." You grumble.
You can hear the bed shift under him as he sits up and slides off to stand up. He padded across the room, the soft thud of his socks on the floor the only sound until he reached the back of your chair. Before you could protest about the looming deadlines, you felt the weight of his hands on your shoulders.
"Break time," Vash murmured, his voice low and grounding. He didn’t just squeeze; he began to work his thumbs into the knots tension had woven into your muscles. "Your brain is going to fry if you stare at that screen for another second. Trust me, I can smell the smoke from here."
You leaned back into him with a weak laugh, your head hitting his stomach. "It's just one more chapter, Vash."
"The chapter can wait ten minutes." He leaned down, his chin resting atop your head, the orange tint of his glasses catching the glow of your desktop. "Besides, I have important field research to share."
He reached around you, sliding his phone onto the desk over your open textbook. The screen was filled with a grainy, slightly blurry photo of a very round calico cat sitting on a dumpster.
"Found her outside the library earlier," he whispered, a grin evident in his voice. "She looked like a 'muffin.' I almost missed my psych lecture trying to see if she’d let me boop her nose."
You felt the throb in your head start to recede, replaced by that familiar, warm tug in your chest. That was the thing about Vash—he lived in the small moments. He was the guy who’d show up to your 8:00 AM wearing a red hoodie just because he knew you were wearing your favorite maroon sweater, a silent "I'm with you" in the form of a color palette.
"Fine," you sighed, finally closing the laptop. "Ten minutes."
"That’s my girl," he beamed, pulling you up from the chair. "Now, come back to bed. I found a TikTok of a Golden Retriever trying to eat a lemon, and I refuse to watch it without you."
The next morning, the "ten-minute break" had inevitably turned into a full night’s sleep. You woke up to the smell of roasted beans and the sound of Vash humming a soft, off-key tune in the small kitchenette of your apartment.
He turned as you stumbled out of the bedroom, looking far too bright-eyed for someone who had stayed up scrolling through animal videos until 2:00 AM. He was already dressed in a simple cream-colored tee that—predictably—matched the beige lounge set you’d thrown on.
"Morning, sleepyhead," he chirped, handing you a tall, condensation-beaded cup. "I ran down to that place on the corner. Double-shot oat milk latte with the extra pump of vanilla, just the way you like it."
"You’re a lifesaver," you croaked, taking a long, grateful sip. It was perfect.
Vash settled onto the sofa with his own drink—a plain black Americano that looked far too grim for his sunny personality. He took one sip, winced, and immediately set it down on the coffee table. His eyes drifted to your cup.
"You know," he started, leaning in close enough that you could see the faint freckles over the bridge of his nose. "I was thinking... that vanilla smells really, really good from over here."
You didn't even have time to offer. Before you could say a word, he had gently swapped the cups. He took a massive gulp of your sweet latte, his eyes widening in pure delight.
"Wow. Yeah. That’s the stuff," he sighed, leaning back against the cushions. He handed you his bitter, dark coffee with a sheepish, lopsided grin. "Mine was a little... intense. You don't mind, right? Shared germs are just a sign of a healthy relationship."
You looked down at the black coffee, then back at his proud expression. "Vash, you do this every time. Why don’t you just order the vanilla latte for yourself?"
He let out a soft laugh, pulling you into his side so your head tucked right under his chin. "Because then I wouldn't have an excuse to taste yours. Everything tastes better when it belongs to you."
hey there… a Little birdy told me you were doing Trigun X reader fics…
Do you think you could do a EOM!reader X Knives fic? or Drabble. either one.
They kinda act like an old couple. the way they bicker. at least in my mind. The reader is like “Knives I love you so bad but this plan is stupid” And surprisingly their not dead. thats it thank you!
Huh.. weird (Knives x EOM Reader)
Note: I wanted to write him as accurately as possible cuz I haven't written for him in three years but I think it went....well.... Maybe....
You wander around the cold halls of the ark, your fingertips brushing the wall as you walk past. These halls, though confusing and long, are familiar to you. Days go by where you don't see the sun and that just seems normal now. On days like this where you don't see the sun, you seek companionship.
It's hypocritical who you always go to for idle talk. The one guy on the entire planet who hates humans. Millions Knives.
You stride through a door, your hands now clasped together behind your back. You walk lightly, your steps are quiet.
"How's world dominance going today?" You muse as you come to a stop beside the tall, blonde man.
His piercing blue eyes glare down at you, an almost grimace on his face. "It's not world dominance." He deadpans. He looks away quickly, his eyes gazing out across the city of Ju-lai.
For a moment there is silence between you. Your eyes wander over to the city. It's dark out and the clouds around are lit by the lights.
"Yeah it is." You say mockingly.
His eyes shoot back over to you. He crosses his arms as he speaks. "I am not going to have this foolish argument with you again." He spats. His eyes daring away in annoyance.
You smirk, shifting from one leg to the other, your hand on your hip. "That's because you know I'm right." You prod.
A short 'tch' comes from his lips. Knives slowly looks back at you. At first, he's stern, a steely look in his eyes. For a moment his face doesn't change.
"What?" You ask as you raise a brow.
A small smile reaches his lips. You notice it right away. "You like talking to me don't you?" You tease.
His brow twitches, a flash of annoyance across his face. "What makes you think that?" He tilts his head.
You can see it In the way he looks at you that he's covering up what he really wants to say. You lean against the wall.
"The infliction of your voice. You aren't disgusted." You watched his expression carefully.
His brows raised, lips pressing into a thin line-but not in anger. It was like he was holding something back.
"There's nothing special about our conversations." He huffed. His eyes narrowed, staring you down.
You shuddered slightly but played it off with a smile. "We literally talk everyday." You raised a brow and looked him up n down.
He turned his gaze away from you, a small grimace on his face. A small blush crept up his cheeks. Just barely noticeable. "I wish to not participate in this anymore." He seethed.
As he walked away, he found himself looking back at you, a warm feeling spreading in his chest. It stopped him halfway across the room. He stood still so suddenly that you thought something was wrong.
"Everything good?" You asked. Keeping your casual demeanor against the wall, you raised a brow.
Knives turned fully to look at you, a warmer look in his eyes. "It is." He said it so plainly that it almost seems normal for him, but it wasn't.
"Change of heart?" You quipped back. Testing the waters.
"think whatever you want. Nothing has changed." He carried an airy mood as he strides back to your side. Suddenly he's a lot closer than before, only feet away from you. It makes your body stiffen.
"Sure, softie." You teased.
Usually a frown would grace his features, one that meant disgust, disdain. Instead, there was a smile tugging at the corners of his lips. A deep, short chuckle escaped him. Your heart fluttered, a heat rising in your cheeks. You smirked back subconsciously, unable to stop yourself.
"You laughed!" You immediately pointed it out. Your figure jumps off the wall and leans forward, poking him in the chest. "You like me."
His face flushed. The smile disappeared as fast as it came. He didn't seem disgusted anymore though. Just shocked.
"A human... Never." He mused.
You chuckled to yourself, finding the situation quite amusing. It was so clear that he was lying about liking to talk to you. If anyone else talked like this to him, they'd be dead already.
"like I'd ever believe that. I'm the exception." You gestured to yourself.
He huffed, turning away from your gaze quickly. "You're not."
You leaned forward, peeking around to see a small smile on his face. You leaned back softly and smiled.
"Ok fine. You win." You muse.
You turned and began to walk away. "Don't miss me when I'm gone!" You called out over your shoulder. As you left the room, it was that moment that you realized, knives actually enjoyed talking to you.
You wander around the cold halls of the ark, your fingertips brushing the wall as you walk past. These halls, though confusing and long, are familiar to you. Days go by where you don't see the sun and that just seems normal now. On days like this where you don't see the sun, you seek companionship.
Haven't posted in a while so I figured I'd give y'all a teaser haha
I dont have any specific requests i just wanted to let you know i also got back into the trigun brainrot and am rubbing my greedy palms together in hopes of new wolfwood fics <3 people dont write about him enough and it makes me sad
I'm actually working on a greed fueled wolfwood fanfiction. It's called dusk and whiskers. If you look at my pinned post in full you'll see a link to its master list.
Also I have other wolfwood works too I think, it's also on my pinned post. You'll find it on masterlist 2.
And just because you said something, I'll write and post another one soon. BUT I MUST WARN it will take quite a while I have two kids.
Hi I hope you are having a good day! I saw that you write about trigun so what about a merman vash with a selkie reader, like the reader is a rather shy and skittish selkie and vash sometimes spies them as they sing to the moonlight, but one day the reader gets captured by some fisherman maybe and they toss her coat to the sea and vash saves them!I hope you like this I have so much ideas but I don't really know how to convey them in a history TnT
I'll Bring You Back To Sea (Merman Vash x Selkie reader)
Note: I had a lot of fun writing this, even if it's a little short. I hope you like it.
The first time Vash heard you, he thought the ocean was playing tricks on him.
The sea is loud, it always is. Currents whisper, creatures call, storms hum beneath the surface, but this was different.
Your voice slips between it all. Soft, fragile, alluring. He follows it without thought.
You sit on the shore bathing in moonlight. The tide kisses at your feet like it knows you. Like it belongs to you.
You don’t notice him, not at first. You’re too focused on the sky, on the silver glow of the moon as your voice rises to meet it. It’s not a song meant for anyone else. Not for humans. Not for creatures of the deep.
Yet, Vash stays hidden beneath the water, golden eyes just barely breaking the surface. He doesn’t mean to spy, he really doesn’t, but something about you pulls him in.
You're different. Not human, but not like him either. When the wind shifts, he sees it. Your coat. Soft and dark. Draped over the rocks behind you.
You're a Selkie. The realization settled over him like a wave.
He comes back the next night and the next. He's always careful, making sure to keep his distance. You're skittish and he can tell. The way your head tilts at the slightest sounds, the way your song falters if the wind changes too sharply. So he stays quiet and watches from afar. He listens and he learns.
You sing when the moon is high and you leave before dawn.
It's wrong, he knows. But he can't stop. Not when your voice sounds like something the world forgot.
But one night, Vash arrives at your singing spot. The one you always come to. He's always arrived after you, quietly watching. But tonight, it was quiet. Your song never came. He waited, waited, and waited. But the shoreline stayed empty. The rocks lay bare. Your coat is gone.
At first he thinks maybe you changed your mind. Maybe you're resting. Maybe you've moved on. But he can hear voices. Humans. Rough, loud, and too close.
He sinks beneath the water, moving silently toward the sound. He doesn't like humans. Not up close like this. Not when they laugh the way they do. Sharp, careless, and cruel.
He sees the boat first. Then the net. Then you. His heart sinks in his chest, his gut churning with unease. You're tangled in it, thrashing and terrified.
Your beautiful voice is broken into panicked gasps as you claw at the ropes. Your hands shake, your eyes are wide, darting, looking for an escape that isn't there.
Vash's chest tightens and something cold and furious curls inside him.
"Strange thing, ain't it?" One of them says, nudging you with a boot. "Not quite human."
"doesn't matter." Another laughs. "Worth something I bet."
You flinch.
Vash moves. The water exploded upward. He doesn't think, he just acts. The boat rocks violently as he surges over the edge, faster than they can react. There's shouting, scrambling, and the sharp smell of fear cutting through the salty air.
Vash tears the net apart, his hands finding you in that tangled mess. Your eyes snap to his.
"Hey- hey, it's okay." He says, his voice softer now even as chaos erupts around him. "I've got you."
For a second, you freeze. He expects you to pull away, to fight, to run. You're skittish, he knows you are. But instead, you go still in his arms. Like something in you recognizes him. It's like you've seen him before.
"Hold on." He murmurs. His grip around you pulling you closer. He doesn't wait. He dives. The ocean swallows you both.
The noises faded instantly, replaced by the quiet undercurrent of the sea. Vash doesn't stop until the boat is only a small shadow above, until the water is dark and safe. Only then does he slow. He looks at you.
You're shaking. Still caught halfway between forms, your body struggles without your coat. Your breath comes uneven, fragile, like you're not sure if you're allowed to take it.
"it's okay." He says again. "You're safe now."
Your lips part, but no sound comes out. He hesitates. "Your coat..." He says. "They-" A flicker of panic crosses your face. Vash doesn't think twice.
"Stay here." He says gently. "I'll go get it."
Your hand catches his wrist. Weak, trembling. But you don't let go. He stills. Slowly, carefully, he turns his hand. Letting your fingers curl into his instead.
"I'll come back." He promises. Something in his voice finally breaks your fear. Your grip loosening just enough.
It takes longer than he wants. Humans don't give things back easily. But Vash isn't asking.
When he returns, you're still there. Waiting. Curled in on yourself like you're trying to disappear into the water. But when you see him, your eyes light up. Just a little. He offers the coat like it's something sacred, his hold on it soft and delicate.
"Here." He watches you take it carefully. Like you're afraid it might vanish. The moment it touches you, everything shifts. Your form steadies. Your breathing evens. The tension slowly begins leaving your body.
For a while, neither of you speak. The ocean hums softly around you.
"You watched me." You say at last. Your voice is quieter than it was on land. But he'd recognize it anywhere.
Vash winces. "Yeah." He admits. "I'm-uh-really sorry about that. I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable or anything I just- your singing is really nice and I kinda - kept coming back and-"
He stops himself, winces again. "Sorry."
"You saved me."
He blinks. "Of course I did." He said like there was no other option.
You look at him for a long moment. Really look at him. At the warmth in his eyes. The way he keeps just enough distance not to scare you. The way his voice never once rises above something gentle. Safe.
"Thank you." You whispered.
Vash smiles. Bright and a little sheepish. "Anytime."
You look up at the moonlight filtering through the water. And for the first time, you don't leave when it fades.
Dust and Whiskers (Wolfwood x cat/human reader) slow burn
High speed chase
Note: I wanted to show off what you're capable of and here it is. A very long good fight scene. Ughhh. I've got writers block any suggestions on what to do next?
"Do you hear that?" You asked.
Engines rumbled in the distance, multiple of them. Your ears stood at attention. You leaned forward in your seat, your hand propped against the driver's seat.
"We're not alone."
The air in the van grew tense. Everyone stiffened, looking ahead at the clouds of dust moving towards them.
For the first time in a long time, you could feel your muscles ready to move. Confined by just a door. It's been way too long since you've found yourself in an intense situation.
Wolfwood leans forward in his seat, his face dangerously close to yours as he speaks. "Keep driving."
Meryl's knuckles begin to turn white from how hard she's gripping the steering wheel. "What if they cut us off?" She blurts out.
"I'll handle it." Wolfwood and you said in unison.
You made eye contact with him. Brief but telling. His brows furrowed slightly, telling of how he didn't believe you could handle it.
You sat back, your incredulous gaze leaving the man beside you and focusing on the people ahead. They were closer now and directly in front of the path.
Meryl guided the van around them, her nervous eyes glancing at them as the van passed. Not long after, engines revved and dust kicked up from behind.
They are following now.
You can hear them shouting, waving their weapons as they chase. Meryl is glancing up in the rearview, her heart pounding in her chest. "They won't stop."
Your eyes meet hers. There's fear written all over her face. "I'll do something about it."
You roll your window down, placing your hands on the door to stand up and angle yourself out. Wolfwood's eyes widened at the sight. Half your body was handing out the window and you weren't stopping.
"Don't do that!" He exclaimed as he reached out to grab your leg.
It was too late.
You lunged, fingers catching the lip of the door frame before the wind could rip you back. Your body followed in one smooth, practiced motion.
Wind brushed past you, the ground beneath the van rushing underneath. You push through the dizziness, your hands steady as you pull out your revolver. The riders on their bikes swerve back and forth, close to the back of the van. Reaching for anything to grab ahold of.
Bang! The van swerves. Your feet are swept out from beneath you in a blur. Suddenly hanging over the edge, your body dangles. It's hard to hold on with one hand. You struggle to even holster your gun. Heart pounding in your chest, wind deafening you.
A rough hand grabbed your leg. "Come here lil lady." It tugged hard, your hand almost letting go above you. With a wild swing, your pistol collided with the rider's head. He fell fast and hard, his body disappearing into the sands. Gritting your teeth, you sling your other arm up and pull.
"I got you." Wolfwood's voice barely reached your ears but you could feel his hands on your legs pushing you up. Internally you were grateful.
Your boots hit the roof hard, metal rattling beneath you as the van tore forward.
For half a second, you stayed low, breathing, recalibrating. The wind screamed in your ears, your pulse louder. Then your head snapped up.
They weren’t backing off. If anything, they were closing in.
Your tail lashed behind you, sharp and agitated as two bikes pulled up on either side of the van, another riding dangerously close behind. One of them raised his gun again.
Not happening.
You moved before the thought finished forming.
A shot rang out. Yours this time.
The rider on the right jerked, his aim breaking as his bike wobbled violently. He didn’t go down, but he peeled away, cursing.
Six.
The van swerved again, and you dropped with it, one hand slamming flat against the roof to steady yourself. Your claws, just barely there, scraped against the metal, catching enough to hold.
Another bike surged forward. Too close, trying to flank.
You pivoted, timing it. And lunged.
Your foot connected with the side of his handlebar, the impact jarring all the way up your leg. His balance shattered instantly, the bike fishtailing before flipping hard into the sand.
“Are you done yet?!” Meryl’s voice barely carried over the chaos.
You didn’t answer.
Couldn’t.
Because the remaining riders changed tactics. Two sped ahead. Your eyes narrowed.
The van roared toward them, speed unchanged. Your ears flattened.
“Wolfwood!” you shouted, not looking back.
A beat.
Then.
A deafening blast split the air.
The massive report of his weapon tore past you, one of the riders ahead disappearing in a violent spray of dust and metal. A grin tugged at your lips despite everything.
“Show-off,” you muttered.
“Get down or get dead!” he shot back.
Behind you, another engine screamed closer. You turned just in time to see one of them jump. Your eyes widened.
The biker launched from his moving motorcycle, slamming onto the roof of the van with you. The impact rocked everything.
Your footing slipped, his didn’t.
A hand shot out, grabbing for you.
“Got you-"
You twisted, barely avoiding his grip, your tail snapping hard to counterbalance as you dropped low. Now it wasn’t a chase. It was close quarters. On a moving van. With three more circling. Your grip tightened on your gun. Your breath steadied.
“Big mistake,” you said quietly.
He came at you fast. Too fast for a normal person. Good thing you weren’t.
You twisted just as his hand shot for your throat, his fingers grazing skin before you dropped lower, nearly on all fours. The wind howled over you both, the van jerking beneath your weight as you moved.
He overstepped.
You didn’t.
Your hand shot out, grabbing his wrist, tight, unrelenting. You yanked hard, using his own momentum against him, dragging him forward.
His boots slipped. Just enough. Your knee drove up into his ribs. A sharp crack, felt more than heard.
He choked, grip faltering.
You didn’t give him time to recover.
Your tail snapped sharply behind you, keeping your balance as you surged up, slamming your shoulder into his chest. The impact sent both of you skidding across the roof, metal screaming beneath you.
For a second, just a second, you were weightless. Then you caught the raised edge of the roof with one hand.
He didn’t.
His fingers clawed at your jacket, dragging you halfway with him as his body tipped over the side.
“you’re coming with me!”
“No,” you hissed.
Your free hand came up.
Bang.
The recoil kicked through your arm, your tail snapping hard to counter it. His grip went slack. His body vanished beneath the van, swallowed by dust and speed.
You hauled yourself back up with a sharp breath, boots scrambling for purchase before finally planting solidly on the roof again.
No time. Never time.
A bullet sparked against the metal near your hand. Too close.
You rolled, the movement fluid, instinctive, coming up on one knee as another bike pulled alongside. This one was smarter, keeping distance, trying to line up a clean shot.
Your ears flattened. You exhaled. Then you ran. Straight toward the edge.
“Are you insane?!” Wolfwood’s voice cracked from below.
Probably. You didn’t slow. At the last second, you pushed off, Jumping. For a heartbeat, there was nothing but open air and roaring wind. Then.
Impact.
You landed hard on the back of the bike, your weight slamming into the rider. He shouted, swerving wildly as your arms locked around him, not to hold, but to control. The bike fishtailed. Your grip tightened.
“Move,” you growled into his ear.
He didn’t. So you made him. Your hand shot down, wrenching the handlebars sharply to the side. The world tilted. The bike skidded, lost traction. You kicked off just before it went down.
You hit the ground rolling. pain sparking up your side, but you didn’t stop. You pushed through it, forcing yourself up just as the van sped ahead and the remaining riders circled back.
Two left.
Engines roaring. Dust choking the air. Your chest rose and fell sharply as you straightened, tail lashing behind you, eyes locked onto them. Alone now. Outnumbered.
A slow, sharp grin spread across your face anyway.
“C’mon,” you muttered, lifting your gun. “Let’s finish it.”
One of them fired first. The shot tore past your shoulder, close enough to sting. You fired back and missed. They split, one veering left, the other right, circling like vultures waiting for you to slip.
Your grip tightened on your gun. Your breathing steadied. Wind howled. Engines screamed. Your pulse slowed anyway.
A distant roar cut through the chaos. Different. Louder. Familiar. Your ears twitched, snapping toward the sound. Your head turned. And there it was.
The van.
Barreling back through the dust cloud like it had something to prove. Your eyes widened just a fraction.
“Are you serious?!" You shouted
“MOVE!” Wolfwood’s voice cracked through the distance, sharp and furious.
The van didn’t slow. It charged. Straight at the riders. One of them panicked, jerking his bike too hard as the van bore down on him. The tires lost grip. He went down fast, tumbling into the dirt as the van tore past him.
The last rider swerved, trying to avoid getting flattened. Big mistake. You moved. Closing the distance in a blur, boots kicking up sand as you ran straight at him. He raised his gun.
You didn’t give him the chance.
You jumped.
Your foot hit the side of his bike, using it as leverage to launch yourself higher, your body twisting midair.
Bang.
The shot landed clean.
His body slackened instantly, the bike veering off wildly before crashing hard into the sand. Silence didn’t come. Just the wind. Your boots hit the ground, sliding a step before you steadied.
Then brakes screamed. The van fishtailed as it came to a violent stop beside you, dust swallowing everything in a thick cloud. The side door slammed open.
“You out of your damn mind?!” Wolfwood was already halfway out, boots hitting the ground hard as he closed the distance between you in long, furious strides.
You barely had time to straighten before he grabbed you, hands firm on your shoulders, eyes scanning you like he was expecting to find something broken.
“You jump out of a moving van, climb on the roof, and decide to fight half a damn army by yourself.”
“I handled it,” you cut in, breath still uneven.
His jaw tightened.
“Yeah,” he snapped, voice low and sharp, “and if you didn’t?”
For a second, neither of you moved. Your tail flicked once behind you. Slow and deliberate.
“I didn’t need saving,” you said, quieter now.
His grip didn’t loosen. “Didn’t say you did.” But he didn’t let go.
Not right away.
Behind him, Meryl leaned out of the van, wide-eyed and breathless. “Are you both done?!” she called. “Because we are still in the middle of nowhere and that was way too loud.”
Wolfwood exhaled sharply through his nose, dragging a hand down his face before finally stepping back.
“Get in,” he muttered.
You held his gaze for a second longer. Then turned, climbing back into the van like nothing had happened.
Dust and Whiskers (Wolfwood x cat/human reader) slow burn
High speed chase (part 4)
Note: I wanted to show off what you're capable of and here it is. A very long good fight scene. Ughhh. I've got writers block any suggestions on what to do next?
"Do you hear that?" You asked.
Engines rumbled in the distance, multiple of them. Your ears stood at attention. You leaned forward in your seat, your hand propped against the driver's seat.
"We're not alone."
The air in the van grew tense. Everyone stiffened, looking ahead at the clouds of dust moving towards them.
For the first time in a long time, you could feel your muscles ready to move. Confined by just a door. It's been way too long since you've found yourself in an intense situation.
Wolfwood leans forward in his seat, his face dangerously close to yours as he speaks. "Keep driving."
Meryl's knuckles begin to turn white from how hard she's gripping the steering wheel. "What if they cut us off?" She blurts out.
"I'll handle it." Wolfwood and you said in unison.
You made eye contact with him. Brief but telling. His brows furrowed slightly, telling of how he didn't believe you could handle it.
You sat back, your incredulous gaze leaving the man beside you and focusing on the people ahead. They were closer now and directly in front of the path.
Meryl guided the van around them, her nervous eyes glancing at them as the van passed. Not long after, engines revved and dust kicked up from behind.
They are following now.
You can hear them shouting, waving their weapons as they chase. Meryl is glancing up in the rearview, her heart pounding in her chest. "They won't stop."
Your eyes meet hers. There's fear written all over her face. "I'll do something about it."
You roll your window down, placing your hands on the door to stand up and angle yourself out. Wolfwood's eyes widened at the sight. Half your body was handing out the window and you weren't stopping.
"Don't do that!" He exclaimed as he reached out to grab your leg.
It was too late.
You lunged, fingers catching the lip of the door frame before the wind could rip you back. Your body followed in one smooth, practiced motion.
Wind brushed past you, the ground beneath the van rushing underneath. You push through the dizziness, your hands steady as you pull out your revolver. The riders on their bikes swerve back and forth, close to the back of the van. Reaching for anything to grab ahold of.
Bang! The van swerves. Your feet are swept out from beneath you in a blur. Suddenly hanging over the edge, your body dangles. It's hard to hold on with one hand. You struggle to even holster your gun. Heart pounding in your chest, wind deafening you.
A rough hand grabbed your leg. "Come here lil lady." It tugged hard, your hand almost letting go above you. With a wild swing, your pistol collided with the rider's head. He fell fast and hard, his body disappearing into the sands. Gritting your teeth, you sling your other arm up and pull.
"I got you." Wolfwood's voice barely reached your ears but you could feel his hands on your legs pushing you up. Internally you were grateful.
Your boots hit the roof hard, metal rattling beneath you as the van tore forward.
For half a second, you stayed low, breathing, recalibrating. The wind screamed in your ears, your pulse louder. Then your head snapped up.
They weren’t backing off. If anything, they were closing in.
Your tail lashed behind you, sharp and agitated as two bikes pulled up on either side of the van, another riding dangerously close behind. One of them raised his gun again.
Not happening.
You moved before the thought finished forming.
A shot rang out. Yours this time.
The rider on the right jerked, his aim breaking as his bike wobbled violently. He didn’t go down, but he peeled away, cursing.
Six.
The van swerved again, and you dropped with it, one hand slamming flat against the roof to steady yourself. Your claws, just barely there, scraped against the metal, catching enough to hold.
Another bike surged forward. Too close, trying to flank.
You pivoted, timing it. And lunged.
Your foot connected with the side of his handlebar, the impact jarring all the way up your leg. His balance shattered instantly, the bike fishtailing before flipping hard into the sand.
“Are you done yet?!” Meryl’s voice barely carried over the chaos.
You didn’t answer.
Couldn’t.
Because the remaining riders changed tactics. Two sped ahead. Your eyes narrowed.
The van roared toward them, speed unchanged. Your ears flattened.
“Wolfwood!” you shouted, not looking back.
A beat.
Then.
A deafening blast split the air.
The massive report of his weapon tore past you, one of the riders ahead disappearing in a violent spray of dust and metal. A grin tugged at your lips despite everything.
“Show-off,” you muttered.
“Get down or get dead!” he shot back.
Behind you, another engine screamed closer. You turned just in time to see one of them jump. Your eyes widened.
The biker launched from his moving motorcycle, slamming onto the roof of the van with you. The impact rocked everything.
Your footing slipped, his didn’t.
A hand shot out, grabbing for you.
“Got you-"
You twisted, barely avoiding his grip, your tail snapping hard to counterbalance as you dropped low. Now it wasn’t a chase. It was close quarters. On a moving van. With three more circling. Your grip tightened on your gun. Your breath steadied.
“Big mistake,” you said quietly.
He came at you fast. Too fast for a normal person. Good thing you weren’t.
You twisted just as his hand shot for your throat, his fingers grazing skin before you dropped lower, nearly on all fours. The wind howled over you both, the van jerking beneath your weight as you moved.
He overstepped.
You didn’t.
Your hand shot out, grabbing his wrist, tight, unrelenting. You yanked hard, using his own momentum against him, dragging him forward.
His boots slipped. Just enough. Your knee drove up into his ribs. A sharp crack, felt more than heard.
He choked, grip faltering.
You didn’t give him time to recover.
Your tail snapped sharply behind you, keeping your balance as you surged up, slamming your shoulder into his chest. The impact sent both of you skidding across the roof, metal screaming beneath you.
For a second, just a second, you were weightless. Then you caught the raised edge of the roof with one hand.
He didn’t.
His fingers clawed at your jacket, dragging you halfway with him as his body tipped over the side.
“you’re coming with me!”
“No,” you hissed.
Your free hand came up.
Bang.
The recoil kicked through your arm, your tail snapping hard to counter it. His grip went slack. His body vanished beneath the van, swallowed by dust and speed.
You hauled yourself back up with a sharp breath, boots scrambling for purchase before finally planting solidly on the roof again.
No time. Never time.
A bullet sparked against the metal near your hand. Too close.
You rolled, the movement fluid, instinctive, coming up on one knee as another bike pulled alongside. This one was smarter, keeping distance, trying to line up a clean shot.
Your ears flattened. You exhaled. Then you ran. Straight toward the edge.
“Are you insane?!” Wolfwood’s voice cracked from below.
Probably. You didn’t slow. At the last second, you pushed off, Jumping. For a heartbeat, there was nothing but open air and roaring wind. Then.
Impact.
You landed hard on the back of the bike, your weight slamming into the rider. He shouted, swerving wildly as your arms locked around him, not to hold, but to control. The bike fishtailed. Your grip tightened.
“Move,” you growled into his ear.
He didn’t. So you made him. Your hand shot down, wrenching the handlebars sharply to the side. The world tilted. The bike skidded, lost traction. You kicked off just before it went down.
You hit the ground rolling. pain sparking up your side, but you didn’t stop. You pushed through it, forcing yourself up just as the van sped ahead and the remaining riders circled back.
Two left.
Engines roaring. Dust choking the air. Your chest rose and fell sharply as you straightened, tail lashing behind you, eyes locked onto them. Alone now. Outnumbered.
A slow, sharp grin spread across your face anyway.
“C’mon,” you muttered, lifting your gun. “Let’s finish it.”
One of them fired first. The shot tore past your shoulder, close enough to sting. You fired back and missed. They split, one veering left, the other right, circling like vultures waiting for you to slip.
Your grip tightened on your gun. Your breathing steadied. Wind howled. Engines screamed. Your pulse slowed anyway.
A distant roar cut through the chaos. Different. Louder. Familiar. Your ears twitched, snapping toward the sound. Your head turned. And there it was.
The van.
Barreling back through the dust cloud like it had something to prove. Your eyes widened just a fraction.
“Are you serious?!" You shouted
“MOVE!” Wolfwood’s voice cracked through the distance, sharp and furious.
The van didn’t slow. It charged. Straight at the riders. One of them panicked, jerking his bike too hard as the van bore down on him. The tires lost grip. He went down fast, tumbling into the dirt as the van tore past him.
The last rider swerved, trying to avoid getting flattened. Big mistake. You moved. Closing the distance in a blur, boots kicking up sand as you ran straight at him. He raised his gun.
You didn’t give him the chance.
You jumped.
Your foot hit the side of his bike, using it as leverage to launch yourself higher, your body twisting midair.
Bang.
The shot landed clean.
His body slackened instantly, the bike veering off wildly before crashing hard into the sand. Silence didn’t come. Just the wind. Your boots hit the ground, sliding a step before you steadied.
Then brakes screamed. The van fishtailed as it came to a violent stop beside you, dust swallowing everything in a thick cloud. The side door slammed open.
“You out of your damn mind?!” Wolfwood was already halfway out, boots hitting the ground hard as he closed the distance between you in long, furious strides.
You barely had time to straighten before he grabbed you, hands firm on your shoulders, eyes scanning you like he was expecting to find something broken.
“You jump out of a moving van, climb on the roof, and decide to fight half a damn army by yourself.”
“I handled it,” you cut in, breath still uneven.
His jaw tightened.
“Yeah,” he snapped, voice low and sharp, “and if you didn’t?”
For a second, neither of you moved. Your tail flicked once behind you. Slow and deliberate.
“I didn’t need saving,” you said, quieter now.
His grip didn’t loosen. “Didn’t say you did.” But he didn’t let go.
Not right away.
Behind him, Meryl leaned out of the van, wide-eyed and breathless. “Are you both done?!” she called. “Because we are still in the middle of nowhere and that was way too loud.”
Wolfwood exhaled sharply through his nose, dragging a hand down his face before finally stepping back.
“Get in,” he muttered.
You held his gaze for a second longer. Then turned, climbing back into the van like nothing had happened.
thinking about how wolfwood would act like you don’t matter right up until the moment you’re in danger and suddenly he’s killing for you without hesitation
