winged bf who pick you up into their arms, gently cradling you as if you were made of glass and the finest jewelry as they tell you to “hang on” before unfurling their wings and taking off into the sky
winged bf who show you the beauty of flying, holding you securely in his arms as you take in the way how the world below you looks so small and beautiful. who only has a gentle smile on their faces as you point out the big apartments and parks where you go to for a picnic date. who only has eyes on you as you admire the twinkling lights of the world under you
winged bf who wrap their wing around you whenever you shiver, even if it was one of those annoying sudden ghost bump things you get out of the blue. he’s still worried, let him worry for you in peace😠
winged bf who plucks a feather out of their wing, gently tucking the soft feather into your hair, or on your jacket — wherever you want. he wants you to carry a piece of him to remind you by even though you regularly steal his clothes
winged bf who allows you to be only person to touch his wings, to care for them, to brush them, to just… well, touch them to your heart’s content really. he doesn’t care if you put the tip of his long feather ends over your lips, mimicking a mustache, he doesn’t care if you want to use it as a blanket, he doesn’t care if you wanna use the ends like a cat toy in front of his face. he’ll indulge in your silly shenanigans
winged bf who sheds at least once a year, filling your shared home with the old feathers. who is either smug about it or is apologetic as he helps you broom the excessive fallen feathers. at this point you could probably make a plushie or some sort of art project from the amount of feathers that he shed. to which he objects, saying these are all old and weakened feathers, offering his wing for you to pluck feathers from if you really wanna make an art project
winged bf who hides the two of you under his wing when cuddling in bed, the added layer of his own extra limb making the scene feel more intimate than it is. as if the entire world is blocked out, just a meager existence passing by as you two enjoy this moment of comfort as his wing becomes a curtain to give you two privacy
winged bf who sometimes gets too sexually frustrated and pent up with your curious hands constantly touching the place where his wing is connected to his back, the skin and muscles there are sensitive, making him jump in his seat whenever you do it to tease him
winged bf who knows that it isn’t your fault. you probably don’t know, you don’t have a wing after all, so you don’t know what it means when someone touches your wing. who only calms your worries with a forehead kiss, usually handling his problems himself
winged bf who lets out a whine into his hand, muffling the embarrassing noise as your hand wraps tighter around his cock. he was way too sensitive than usual and it was all because of your wandering hand on his wings. he probably should have explained it all to you but right now, he found his words escaping him, mind melting into a muddled mess as he finds his hands clawing at your own in desperation
winged bf who mumbles out a weak protest of being “s-sensitive! aaah… f-feels too sen—♡︎ sensitive! y-your haaandd♡︎” as his legs start to shake, staring through teary eyes as you coax out yet another climax out of him. his tip an angry cherry red from the continued torture of your hand, his slit weeping precum over and over again despite having just came, getting hard in your hand embarrassingly fast
winged bf who gets tortured by your loving hands for who knows how many times. his eyes are getting blurry and breathing started to hurt. even more, his dick was stinging, twitching every time your tight fist comes up to the tip, letting go briefly as if to taunt him, touching the dripping slit with the tip of your finger and making him whine loudly before fucking his cock into your hand again and again. this was just pure torture, he wanted to escape and run away but you were whispering such nice words to his ears. calling him your good boy, your angel, how you loved being with your beloved like this… could he really ever refuse you?
winged bf who gets more and more twitchy in your gentle hold as your hand picks up speed, the filthy wet noise of his earlier cum being used as a lube filling the room alongside his loud moans. who begs for you to not to touch his wing as it flutters around, dropping a feather or two onto the floor due to moving around so much. who only lets out a pathetic whimper of a “cuz’ ahh haamgh—! [n-name], please! please don’t—♡︎ d-don’t touch them...? they’re sensitive too aanh haagh mfgh♥︎!!” when you ask him why
winged bf who felt like his skin was on fire. everything felt too much but felt too little at the same time, his cock painfully hard again in your hold the moment you ran the tip of your finger over the bane of it. his muscles were getting tense, a strange sense of feeling coiling around in his stomach as you kiss the place where his wing and back connects, shifting around frantically with a chirp or a preen falling from his swollen lips
winged bf who weakly paws at your hand around his dick, wanting to push it away but chasing right after it with his hips as the strange feeling in his stomach just continues to grow worse. it didn’t felt like his usual orgasm, the way he would just fall apart in your hands. it felt more intense and that scared him. who cries out through loud whines and bitten back sobs that “f-feels weird!! aanhh haah [n-name]—! it mnggh♡︎ feels weird! my c-cock feels unnck haah ahh amhh weird♥︎♥︎!!”
winged bf who throws his head back into your shoulder, hands covering his beet red face as a scream tears through his lips, muscles tightening, body going taut in your arms when you gently bit into the base of his wing, your other hand keeping his wing in place so it wouldn’t flutter and knock you away as he fucking squirts into his stomach, painting his muscles and your hand white. who lets out soft chirps and noises, legs twitching and hands struggle to decide whether to hold onto you or to muffle his embarrassing noises
winged bf who only lets out weak noises and chirps when you try to communicate with him, asking him if he was doing alright and if your angel was with you right now after that overstimulating experience. who immediately hides within his wings the moment a sliver of sobriety hits him, too humiliated to even look you in the face because what was that? and why did he felt… so good?
winged bf who gives you a weak glare that you know isn’t exactly serious, pouting at you and complaining about how you messed up his mind and stuff. who lean into your touch as you push his hair away from him, getting to see the still reddened face and the few tear stains on his cheeks. who grumbles about how you have too much power over him when you chuckle, leaning in to plant a kiss to his pouting lips. who chase after you with a demand for a proper kiss this time
⇨ sephiroth, genesis, angeal, hawks, xiao, venti, angel devil, vash, knives, sunday, simeon, raphael + anyone you can think of!
✩ Characters: Vash, Knives (Yeah, yeah, I know. But you're on my playground 😏)
✩ Сontains: gn!reader, fluff, short imagines, drabbles
Ah... Imagine sleeping next to one of them ⭐💤
P.S. I'm going to write the second part about Nicholas and Livio 🌚
Vash the Stampede
Vash loves falling asleep while cuddling with you - he sticks to you like a leech. If you turn him down, he'll sulk all evening, but then he'll sneak into bed with you anyway. He won't let you fall asleep alone.
Vash loves being the little spoon. He falls asleep quickly on your chest. He gently hugs you like his a favorite teddy bear, pressing close to you and wrapping his arms and legs around you? but without making you feel confined. However? this idyll doesn't last long...
Vash sleeps like a restless little devil. He's constantly tossing and turning, rolling from one side to the other, twitching, and taking up most of the bed. Forget about getting a good night's sleep. And he mumbles in his sleep with souch a blissful look on his face - so silly and sweet that it's impossile to stay mad at him. Who knows, maybe he's dreaming about delicious donuts or something like that?
But sometimes... Sometimes his face takes on an anguished, almost pained expression. His eyebrows are drawn together, his temples glisten with sweat, he gasps for air through his mouth, and tosses and turns on the pillow, yet he doesn’t wake up. He’s having nightmares. Please hug him, stroke his spiky hair, whisper tender words, and hold him close to your chest again. Your touch will help him calm down and drift back into a carefree sleep.
Vash usually wakes up early in the morning - after all, his workouts won't wait - but if he's sleeping with you, he'll hapilly stay in bed for couple more hours. Or maybe even all day - a day off wouldn't hurt.
Millions Knives
Sleep with you? Sleep with anyone? You risk losing your head for even thinking that!
No! No! And NO again!
He won't stoop that low. He wouldn't allow himself to.
Under no circumstances would Knives sneak into your bedroom at night like an invisible shadow, absolutely certain that you’re asleep, tiptoeing across the floor so that a random creak wouldn’t wake you up and give away his presence. Just as quietly, he won’t lower himself onto the sheets behind you, still keeping his distance, avoiding any physical contact. He won't. He won't fall asleep. Someone like him doesn't need to...
Wait. Or maybe...
To this own disappointment, balancibg on the edge between reality and something vaguely resembling a dream, Knives unconsciously leans forward you. The distance dangerously shrinks to barely perceptible.
No, he still isn't touching you. Maybe only the tip of his nose is almost touching the hair at the back of your head. Almost. Maybe it only seems that way. that doesn't count, right?
Knives is barely breathing. He's so sensitive and alert, even in this sleepy haze. Oh God. Don't you dare wake up. Not now. Just a little longer. Just a tiny bit longer.
He’ll slip out of the bedroom before the first rays of sunlight. He’ll vanish just as quietly as he appeared. Or maybe he was never here at all, and you just dreamed it all up, silly?
I was asked by a friend to make headcanons for knives, specifically about him trusting the reader.
So let's do that.
GN reader, chubby reader is intended, but I don't really talk about body types a ton?
No warnings, I think? Outside of my usual spelling and grammar issues,
Does any of this make sense? Bro, I'm sorry; I'm just rambling, and I too hate the constant bombardment of weird abuse fantasy fics just because he's a villain.
Starting off with HOW THE HELL DID YOU GET HUMAN-HATING KNIVES TO TRUST YOU?
Well, be useful to him. For this instance, we're going to say you're a plant engineer that's extremely good at their job.
Prove you're more useful alive than dead, actually help with his plans, and at the very least you've put yourself on the 'humans that are allowed to live' list.
The best way to actively get close to him is frankly to just prove yourself extremely useful; based off the humans he is close with, we know he values usefulness when it comes to humans.
To build up actual trust would take a while...like a long while. He hates humans; he thinks they are a plague, so you're going to have to be patient and hope you don't piss him off.
So, you've finally gotten THE knives to trust you, consider you a friend even, maybe more?
What now?
I have my own set of headcanons that the brothers can be very catlike, and that includes good ol' Nai.
In the way of, don't go to him; let him come to you in his own time.
You'll likely find that he's started to sit around you and complain about issues he's been having, partially pertaining to humans, partially to his plans, and partially to his brother you get the idea.
He isn't very physically affectionate; if he considers you 'more' than just a friend, whether it's a mutual thing you've talked about or not, you may occasionally find him leaning onto your shoulder.
You'd have to be in an actual relationship to touch his hair/have him lie in your lap, though. Softy nai is only for relationships.
Speaking of, I feel like he's the type to, with no warning, plop his face onto your stomach when he's extremely frustrated or overwhelmed just to decompress.
I should add, getting into a relationship with him is hard. He doesn't do human stuff, so it's probably a matter of convincing him it's beneficial for him. He'll come around eventually and understand.
Back to regular old trust headcanons, he'd likely go to you with ideas he had, and you'd get to hear him plan them out and iron out kinks.
He'd take your opinion a little more seriously, but at the same time glare at you if it goes against what he already has planned, even if he's already decided it's actually better.
You just have to remember, he's always got a bad temper, mainly around humans, but he isn't the type to have outbursts for no reason. He knows when to keep that in.
Also adding on that, said friend has a headcanon that the Saverem bros have tails:
Only in a relationship will he wrap it around you. Do not touch it unless he initiates first or has already made it clear he doesn't care.
Will probably stare at you with a deadpan expression if you hold it just so you don't get lost or just because.
Including this plus the cat thing
You are his pillow; he doesn't care if you hate it. It's partially that 'soft' side of him that he hates, using it as a way to have his ear over your heart.
All in all, you are probably at the top of the list of 'do not kill' once he trusts you.
He hates that he has a soft spot for a human, hates it, but doesn't take it out on you.
He hates that he's scared you won't come back if you leave.
Hates that he's scared that you may not live as long as him.
He's angry at his heart for betraying him.
But there are worse things in life, right? And you care for his sisters....
King!Nai x Royal Advisor!Reader drabble bc I can't shut uup
Rating: 14+
Word Count: 0.8k
Reader is referred to as a girl/woman.
You're not available when you come into the employ of King Nai.
One of those political engagements. You know how it is: parents promised your hand to an older man when you were six, you meet him periodically to "get to know" each other, and your marriage is planned for when you turn sixteen, he thirty-nine.
You do not mention this to the king, except in passing when he tries to make plans for you to become an official royal advisor in the coming years. "As much as I hate your tongue" Nai grimaces, face still boyish with a little teenage fat, "it has its uses in the battle of wills against ambassadors."
You look at him, this young man who has the world at his feet and the ability to say 'no' to anything he does not want. What you wouldn't give for that kind of freedom. "I will be wed," you say, looking away and reminding yourself of this, "and am only expected to help you settle matters in the western part of the kingdom until then." It is the usual for girls your age, after all. It was only your own ambition and insistence that allowed you to become an "honorary" advisor to the small kingdom in the first place. A way for you to get it out of your system before marriage.
Nai only blinks, and hums.
The news comes five days later: your betrothed has met with an accident—some kind of horseplay in racing carriages and falling off before getting trampled. A terrible situation.
Most terrible, you think, as you wonder what your future looks like now at his funeral. Here at fifteen-and-a-half, you were expecting to have your first child within the next two years. Not that you looked forward to it, but it was just...expected. What you've been told all your life to want. You come to the king and explain everything.
"How tragic," he says, then shrugs. "I suppose I could allow you to stay as an advisor now, though."
Your parents hesitate, but still try for another marriage. You are young, in your child-bearing years. There is another who accepts the offer within a month of your birthday. When you tell the king this as a way of notice—to allow him to find another "honorary" advisor—his brow twitches once before he turns away and leaves you in the hall.
The letter from your father comes swiftly in the night. You read it over tea next morning: your new fiance has withdrawn his offer, post-haste. Threats to his name have been made if he weds you. He may have been paid off. You set your cup down with a loud clank. Wheels begin turning. You're smart enough to catch on.
This time, you seek out a husband yourself. Someone younger, perhaps. Just to see if it's an age thing. You find a duke, about twenty-three, who looks at you lecherously when you offer your hand and more. You tell the king. Your future husband is dead within days of announcing your proposal.
So it goes with the next two men and one woman. They either die, get maimed, or are paid off handsomely by an unknown benefactor. And it spreads like wildfire among the elite. No one wants to touch your hand after the seventh attempt, arduous as it was to get them to accept in the first place. They won't even look at you in court without trembling.
In your eighteenth year, you confront Nai in his study with all the fury and angst a young woman can muster. A worried, scared woman. "Why are you doing this?" It's a miserable ask after the tears. "I have no future if I don't have an advantageous spouse."
Nai stands from his desk—when did he get so tall?—and rounds on you. "Do you think I would let your talent go to waste to be some other man's breeding mare?"
Your fury reigns again. "Do not refer to me like that! I would have been happy—"
And Nai does something he has never done—he touches you. Grabs you. Nails digging into your side and scalp where he's woven his fingers in, you are pulled flush against him. "You would not," he mutters, dangerous, low, "be happy with another man."
A still moment. You swallow. Nai watches your throat bob with interest. Then, you say with a snarl, "If you want me so ardently, be a man about it rather than skulking in the shadows like a rat."
He laughs. Laughs! "That tongue of yours...will be your death one day." And descends on you like a panther, all muscle and laving tongue and glinting, scheming eyes.
It seems you're still not available. Especially in King Nai's employ and under his eye.
When Millions Knives reawakens to the harrowing sight of crimson plants—kin slaughtered by his disciples' hands in a desperate endeavour to restore his body—punishment must be dealt.
CW: dub-con, power imbalance, tortured worship, prone bone, voyeurism, creampie, weird psychosexual themes regarding nai's possessive view of vash, major character death. WC: 2.6k
Million Knives is heavy.
You always guessed this. Long, quiet hours of solitude with no entertainment but Nai—suspended in the plant tank you had been tasked to guard with your life—gave you plenty of time to ruminate on the idea.
Too much time, really.
When Nai was no more than disembodied bones, brain, and eyes, floating in the tank like some kind of science exhibit, the thought that he once made such an imposing figure felt almost laughable. Now, he's a hulking being once more—fed on his brothers and sisters into fullness, grown back into hard muscle and towering limbs—and you can't fathom how you forgot this browbeaten feeling.
Not when his conscious presence is this unnerving, expanding into the furthest reaches of the room and threatening to swallow every last oxygen molecule until you suffocate.
Nor when he’s plastered over every inch of you—body heat oppressively ardent.
"How amusing," Nai murmurs into your nape, voice melted, the words sliding like molten lava around the sides of your throat. "You like this."
You can't move. Nai has pinned you to the ground with his crushing mass alone, scant meters from his drained tank.
"No, I—" you gasp when Nai slams his cock back into you. Warm. So warm. Everywhere. The smooth rubber of his suit is burning, and you fear it may meld with your skin. "I don't. Please, Knives-sama—"
"Silence," Nai demands, tightening the brace of his knees to squeeze your thighs together. You moan at the pressure. At the fierce slide of his wet cock, straining against it. "You are weak. Insolent." He doesn't bother restraining your arms—awkwardly folded beneath you like clipped wings, Nai’s biceps atop yours as though imitating entomological pins. It is pointless. "A perfect example of the shortcomings your kind are corrupted by."
"I am sorry!" you mewl, turning your face, your hot cheek smushed on the chilled metal ground. "I am— sorry, Knives-sama! We had no— ah!— choice."
Nai scoffs, thumbs brushing the side of your breasts, startlingly cold compared to the rest of him. Your nipples pebble, and you find yourself wishing he would lift you a margin. Stop them from depressing your lungs and stuttering your breath.
"Humans claim incessantly that they had no choice, but you cannot all be telling the truth," Nai drawls, biting at the meat of your shoulder. You cry out as blunt pain sings down your arm. "You have killed my kin."
Blue light ripples across your face, and the movement triggers memory of the other presence in this room—Vash the Stampede in a tank of his own, dangling on the precipice of consciousness.
Nai's saviour.
Can Vash hear anything?
Fuzzy around the edges, your gaze strays to Nai’s twin. You swear you notice a flicker of life, perhaps a brief flutter of his eyelids. Yet it vanishes a heartbeat later, too quickly to discern if it was ever real. "To save you, Knives-sama. Only to— nghhh— save you. Please!"
"You lie," Nai spits, speeding up his thrusts until his cock is so deep inside you it feels as though it could be in your throat, jabbing your G-spot with all the force of divinity; judgment being laid upon you. "You all lie. Humans have never needed an excuse to exploit my blood—from the day I was born, your nature was to kill. This erroneous belief in humanity's purpose.”
White-hot pleasure swims in your core, and it takes the entirety of your focus to hear Nai’s words, to accept your god’s verdict.
“This is why I must kill you to create my paradise."
"Knives-sama, please," you wheeze, his weight atop you so domineering you can barely think, barely breathe around the mantle of his body, suppressing you impossibly further into cool metal. "I protected you! We only, ah, used the plants we must— we never— we never— You are alive now! Alive to carry out your, ahh— nghhh, your sacred will!"
With Nai upon you like this, your pubic bone digs into the hard ground, unforgiving and painful, and the drag of Nai's cock deepens. The walls of your cunt compressed beneath Nai's weight and the floor, forcing you to feel even the most minute, dizzying sweeps of Nai’s cock. The sensation makes your head swim; no part of your body is not in contact with Nai. He's plastered everywhere. Outside. Inside.
You’ve forgotten if you were truly two separate beings.
"I was never dead. I was never sleeping," Nai utters, the first trace of a moan tinting his words as he bears down on your cunt faster. "I watched you for months—pacing like a caged animal and no more human than I am."
Tears finally spill, tracing hot paths across your nose bridge, down your cheek, pooling wet and slippery on the ground until your head loses its traction, sliding forward with every thrust.
"I did not need your protection, but you will need mine when you learn what is coming." Nai’s hips slap into your ass, and the impact reverberates in the empty room—piercing your ears red, tangling with your pathetic yawping and the blunt heat of his words. "I do not believe you are worth it."
You don't hear anything more around the panicked ringing between your ears; the sheer, hopeless despair that if Nai chooses to be done with you, there is nothing you may say in your defence.
Still, you try.
"I am, I am, Knives-sama, please, I am. I—" You heave a hiccuping sob, staring despondently at Vash the Stampede's peaceful expression. "Everything I do is for you."
Nai makes a horrible noise in the back of his throat—furious and raging, condemning you to futility with no more than an inarticulate, twisting growl.
You attempt to bend your neck, desperately needing to meet his gaze to display your devotion, your remorse, anything to redeem you in his eyes. But Nai allows none of it. He lowers his forehead to your crown, fixing your head back to the floor. Forcing your gaze back to Vash, too, though you can't tell if it's purposeful or a mere, thoughtless consequence.
Nai decides you are to take every searing inch of him, over and over and over, until you’re sobbing helplessly. And so, you do.
"Everything you do is for yourself." Nai's words land like a knife, flaying you open with each carving vowel, each gouging consonant. Heat crawls into the cavernous reach left behind, and you cry harder. "You are human."
"I am—" Yours, you want to beg. Yours, yours, yours. Not human. Not a plant. Simply conscience for Nai to bend to the pursuit of his new paradise.
Nai interrupts, "You are only what I allow you to be."
Heat coils tight in your core, sparks skittering up your spine as Nai's nose bridge slides back down to your nape. He fits his teeth over one of the vertebrae in your spine, hard enough to hurt, and you whimper, fingers scrabbling for purchase on the smooth, even ground.
Drool drips from Nai's mouth, slides down the side of your neck. Muffled words vibrate down your spine, through your skull, like desert worms. Advanced warnings to hide, to run, and you can do neither, imprisoned beneath Nai with no means of escape. "And now, you are nothing more than my failure."
"No, no—" you sob, face screwing up. A slew of pleasure and anguish merge into betrayal, into fear, into wretchedness. Too many flickering sensibilities without veritably settling on one.
"This is what I allow you to be," Nai continues, the first full groan alighting his mouth as his cock head catches on the ring of your cunt, rolling up between the globes of your ass and leaving a slippery trail of arousal, before he punches back into you. "Do not prove me wrong."
"I would never— you are right," you concede immediately, a fission of heat lancing through you as Nai slams into your cervix. "Always right!"
Nai's forearms cage the sides of your ribs intensely, and he drags his mouth up the bone of your skull, behind your ear. He presses his words here. "I am. You are my failure."
"I—" I am not. "I am—"
Nai merely hums, waiting to see if you will challenge him.
"I am not," you finally wheeze, terror locking your body into complete stillness, save for the way Nai's thrusts jerk you back and forth. "I am yours."
Nai growls, disgusted. His knees and arms tighten, as though trying to constrict you into nothingness. "My failure, yes. Say what you are."
"I'm—"
"My failure," Nai echoes.
"Your failure," you sustain, a sob fracturing your words.
Knives-sama is never wrong, and thus, you must be what he claims. A testimony of everything Nai hates—a reminder of what humans have done to his kin. Your worship is deemed hollow. Your honour is revoked. All that defines your existence vaporised instantly, like water meeting white-hot sand.
Nai chuckles against the shell of your ear, low and dangerous. "Humanity's perfect example," he persists.
Jabbing into your G-spot, relentless in his pursuit of command, you fight to respond, your brain melted into a soupy mess. "Humanity's— ah, nghhh— perfect exa—ah—mple"
Heavy. So heavy you can't think; can't do anything but accept what Nai is bestowing upon you and savour the final moments of his acknowledgement before you will be cast aside or killed. You know which would be worse, and you only hope he chooses mercy—that he may grant you a swift end.
"A murderer," Nai grunts, cock slipping out of you once more. He thrusts shallowly into your cunt, only the tip rocking inside your slick entrance.
You whine, pitiful, like a prey animal pleading for protection. All it gets you is a harsh jab of his cock head against the sensitive bump of your clit, before he returns to fucking only the tip of his cock inside you. "A murderer-nghhh—"
Like a reward, Nai slides home in one hurried motion, his hips digging into the bottom of your ass. He begins to grind, deep, dreadfully deep inside you. Rubbing his tip on your G-spot and puffing out winded little breaths behind your ear. "Filth," he croons. "The lowest form of life this planet has to offer me."
"Filth—" you begin, frantic, but Nai doesn't hear the rest of your promise, for his sharp canines graze your earlobe, clamping down on the length of muscle running the slope of your neck, and you're lost.
A frightful moan, high and sharp and hanging on the fulcrum of terrified pleasure, rings out, no more dignified than Nai likely expects of you anymore. So you buckle, succumbing to it, riding out the fiery billows of your orgasm with a constant stream of delirious mewls as Nai fucks into you with a renewed vigour, spinning out your high until it feels more like torture. Like he's testing your resolve, your loyalty to him.
"Knives-sama, I—"
"Do not address me," he snarls, brutal thrusts tipping you into unfamiliar territory. Bright, saturated jolts of lightning slam through your cunt with little remorse for your oversensitivity. "Do not address us. Do you see, Vash? How humans destroy all they touch. How unworthy they are to use our kin. Use you."
Your eyes flutter open, though you do not recall when they shut, and you catch the tail-end spasm of Vash's fingers. Fleeting movement, like a branch being rustled in a breeze. Yet his face is utterly still—no more expressive than sleep—and you wonder if it was truly in response to Nai's words or rather a reaction to stimuli deep in the recesses of his mind, where Nai has banished his twin until paradise is realised.
Either way, there is no room for humiliation. The tears on your face have dried up, and you have nothing left to give. Bearing Nai's weight and Nai's cock as your last act of deference.
Nai turns his head, moaning into your nape. "Our paradise will be a wonder, Vash."
Slick pools beneath your cunt, drool and tears beneath your cheek. Sweat clings to you as though forming a second skin—heat radiating from Nai’s chest, from his cock. Your pain gradually fizzles out, sparks of bliss igniting in its place, and you whimper in alarm.
"A utopia of independent plants, free from the shackles of humanity's malevolence," Nai claims, sliding entirely out of your cunt, and it flutters in the cool air for a scarce moment before he fucks into you again.
You whine as Nai’s rhythm devolves into punishment—thick cock cutting through your wetness like the bow of a sand steamer.
Nai's panting now, choked exhales hitting your nape and sliding down your spine as though his will is enough to condense air into liquid fire. "You will be mine, Vash."
Vash's fingers twitch again, curling up faintly into the beginnings of a fist.
"Once all the spiders are gone," Nai moans. "You will be free."
Vash's markings flash bright blue before they dim into a pulsating gleam. Alien patterns flaring and fading, throbbing like a wound. Reflected in the metal floor, you catch Nai's own markings glowing, too. Undulating in time with Vash as though they are truly one.
Is Millions Knives staring at his twin, too? How he floats in the tank, sanctity preserved in the water—glass shielding Vash from humanity’s hand.
Static decorates your periphery.
Heat rises, choking you.
"My butterfly," Nai finishes, his voice battling a raw note.
Nai bears down, tucking his face above your shoulder, into the side of your neck. Crushing you beneath his chest.
"Nai—" Vash calls out, cracked and broken, his eyes still closed.
Nai's name hangs in the air like a phantom, so indistinct that the memory becomes a wisp of sound between one second and the next.
But above you, Nai's limbs lock up. He grunts harshly, coming inside you with an answering, "Vash—"
You're held down, unmoving as you accept his spend, Nai rutting deep into you through each wave of his climax. You don't know how long he's been inside you. Time stretched thick and syrupy, your pleasure melting into Nai's, until you can't distinguish between the thundering of your heart and the unnatural vibration of Nai's.
Nai doesn't soften, nor ease up, panting against your tacky skin as he unspools the vestiges of pleasure he's gained from you, uncharacteristically gluttonous. You don't say a word, keening quietly as you let Nai take what he needs. If this is all you can render, so be it. Let his memory of you be this. Carnal satisfaction.
Another orgasm coils like a sandworm inside you, grappling for the remaining dregs of lucidity you possess. Nai's tip brushes up against and over your G-spot once, twice, and you're coming—hips barely jerking, face spasming; the only mobility you are allowed under his hulking weight.
"My butterfly," Nai murmurs.
Even through the haze of your orgasm, you know his adoration is not meant for you, but you cradle the title carefully regardless, soaking in the meagre warmth it emits. Nai's weight disappears, then his cock, sliding out of you with a sticky gush, and all that's left is the cool air of the room and "My butterfly" to comfort you.
Nai grasps your shoulder and turns you onto your back. Above you, he looms like an angel—markings still glowing softly, expression solemn, cock hanging thick and heavy between his legs, still hard and shining with your arousal. Limbs of knives ascend from his back and swell in the air.
"Knives-sama," you whisper. Not a plea, not permission. A supplication—to be heard by your god, one final time.
Over Nai's shoulder, a silver limb curls towards you, edged in his pale blue light. The motion is so fluid that it almost appears to be still, each new knife succeeding the path of the last.
Nai does not grant your wish.
All you feel is the deceivingly soft slice of his knives, parting skin, carving a home in your heart, and the ruins of your worship fall to Vash the Stampede—a kiss on hallowed blue eyes.
Millions Knives will deliver Vash the Stampede their paradise.
You will be no witness.
MEL'S POST-FIC NOTE
this is set right after the most recent episode (6) of trigun stargaze, where nai has finally been "reborn." while i have taken some inspiration from childhood flashbacks in trigun '98 (namely the spider/butterfly scene — it's barely over a minute long, so i'd really reccommend watching if you're not already familiar with the original anime), i was solely picturing the reboot as i wrote this!! nai looked so sexy coming out of that tank i couldn't resist.
title is taken from the christian poem 'paradise lost' by john milton, retelling the biblical story of the fall of humanity: satan's rebellion and fall from heaven, the temptation of adam and eve by satan, and their subsequent expulsion from the garden of eden for disobeying god and eating the forbidden fruit.
‹‹ MASTERLIST ・ READ ON AO3
psst. thank you for reading !!! if you enjoyed this, please consider leaving a comment, reblogging, or saying hi and letting me know in my inbox <3
They had talked about you for months, and it didn't take long for their discussions to turn pornographic. Nai would flip Vash, harshly pinning him to the bed.
"What if they could watch? Bet you'd like that, little slut." He teased. Vash whined at the thought, arching himself a little more.
"Miss her" he gasped. You'd barely spoken to them, never even spending the night- but that didn't stop them. "Want her, Nai, please"
"Oh? Does my little brother miss our Mommy?"
"Oh fuck~Mommy" Vash panted, fucking himself back onto Nai's cock
"She's not here, little brother." Nai's pace picked up desperately. He didn't want to admit but he missed you too. They fed each other's obsession, mentioning you constantly as if you were always there.
--
They were weird, whenever you did run into them. Vash more obviously, his usual easy going social nature faltering when he would run into you. You thought it was cute, wondering what made him so shy. Knives was more inscrutable, but you felt his stares from behind that hood.
It was Knives who started it, requesting to see you in one of his private chambers. The heat in his gaze made it clear what he wanted and you agreed gladly, admiring his handsome features.
You stepped into the room, watching as he took off his bulky robe. The close fit of his body suit left nothing to the imagination.
"You will allow my advances?" He asked, a bit stiffly. Almost nervous.
"Yes dear." You answered sweetly. The nickname threw him, but he recovered.
"And my brother?"
"I won't tell him if you want, I can be discrete." You reassured.
"You misunderstand. His is my twin, we are halves of the same whole. I know him as intimately as I hope to know you and you may not have one of us without the other. Is this acceptable?"
You freeze, processing. It made sense though, you had watched the twins together and all the weird little mannerisms clicked into place. "You fuck your brother?"
Knives winced at the crude phrasing. "I suppose."
"And he...wants me as well?" You clarified.
"Yes." Knives relaxed a fraction as you processed it relatively calmly.
"Knives, I-"
"Nai"
"Hm?"
"Call me Nai. Please." You sensed the begging under his tone. Something you could use.
"C'mere Nai," you cooed in your sweetest voice. He wrapped around you immediately, refusing to look at you but clearly needing the comfort. He mouthed at the crook of your neck.
"Mama" he whispered, barely forming the words.
"Oh, sweetheart, you need this, hm? Mama's here" You say, petting his hair. He clung to you, reaching under your shirt to palm your chest.
"Mama" he repeated, losing himself in the comfort.
"Will you take care of baby brother too?" He asked in a voice that sounded like a whole different person, hesitant and soft.
"Of course, baby, where's brother?" You asked. He reluctantly let go of you to press a communication button.
"Please, please, mommy" He whispered as he returned, holding you shamelessly.
◉ Synopsis; moments when they can't help but stop everything and admire you
◉ Content; seperate HCs for Vash, Nai and Wolfwood x gn!reader, romantic, fluff, slightly OOC Nai
◉ A/n; dude this is such a cute request, thank you!!! I hope you enjoy
Vash
for vash, it's when you show kindness to others. People, animals, insects, inanimate objects- it doesn't matter. Kindness directed to anyone or anything his him staring
Despite his seemingly endless love for humanity, sometimes there seeds of bitterness and resentment that begin to take root in his heart
Obviously Vash loves humans and is endlessly forgiving, but when faced with the worst of humanity time and time again, it's hard for one's resolve to stand strong
When you show kindness to others, Vash's faith in humanity is restored bit by bit. Whether its holding the door open for someone, giving resources to someone in need, or even just telling someone to have a nice day, Vash's heart flutters when he gets to see the best of humanity in you
Wolfwood
Wolfwood can't help but stare whenever you're interacting with kids
Growing up in an orphanage, he didn't have many adult figures in his life to look up to- then, in the Eye of Michael, he grew a resentment for adults- especially ones who harm children
If you're ever in a situation where you're interacting with children, Wolfwood is studying you closely. It doesn't matter what your reaction is- as long as its not outwardly hateful, mean, or hurtful, he's enamored
Even if you're awkward or shy with kids, he can't help but have hearts in his eyes
There's a part of him that yearns for a reality where, as a kid, maybe he would get to meet someone like you
Nai
Nai admires when you speak up for what you believe in- especially if it's a common interest (in a modern au, this would mean something to do with environmentalism- in canon, it would likely be your opinions on humanity)
Having been around people who were willing to lie to protect their own interests, Nai easily sees through any attempts at insincerity
Even if the two of you disagree on the nature of humanity, when Nai sees you speaking so passionately, he can't help but fall in love with you even more
Your honesty, passion and drive to have your opinions heard has Nai enamored with your ideas
If the two of you happen to agree on humanity needing to go for the sake of the world's wellbeing- well then, he's all the more on board with what you have to say
