#Spring Stampede | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

seijorhi · 18 days ago

Text

Swallow it down

so a few weeks back i said to @iwaasfairy 'hey wouldn't it be fun to do a mini cannibalism collab for Trigun' and this is the result of that. you have been warned. Vash the Stampede x female reader x Knives Millions w.c 4.7k tw: yandere, cannibalism, non-character death, blood and gore, extreme dubcon, semi-forced feeding, horror vibes, very, very light smut, drugging, dubious medical care, faint psuedo-cest vibes, nsfw

He finds you crying in the dirt, broken, bleeding nails prying fruitlessly at the the iron jaws clamped above your ankle.

“The lost lamb, abandoned by her flock.”

He crouches by your side, arctic blue eyes studying the gruesome mess of your shin. Rivulets of blood ooze down your shin, the bone’s broken, you heard the fucking crack. You’re trembling, shivering like a stray in a downpour, and between the fire lashing up your leg and what you can only presume to be shock, you find yourself stubbornly shaking your head. “They’re coming back,” you rasp out. “They went to get h-help.”

His chin tilts, “Would that save you?”

A few feet away, well beyond your reach, lies his crossbow and there’s a very mean looking knife strapped to his thigh. It wouldn’t surprise you any to find he’s got others hidden away on his person. Would help save you now, trapped like a beast and terrified, alone at the mercy of one madman, another stalking the woods around you?

“T-they didn’t leave me.”

Nai’s expression hardens, those glacial eyes pitiless. He straightens and takes a single step to your left–

Onto a hidden plate; the release mechanism for the bear trap.

As quickly as it’d clamped shut, the springs snap open, iron teeth ripping their way back out of your flesh. The scream it pulls from you is inhuman, a shriek that echoes through the mountain, rattles deep in your bones.

Your vision sways, darkness edging in, and in the moments before the tide of agony, shock and exhaustion pulls you under, you hear him speak again.

“No one’s coming.”

—

Awareness returns gradually, a slow, oozing drip.

A door opens, closes. Footsteps tread across wooden floors. You hear a curtain being drawn and a shaft of sunlight cuts over you, warm and buttery. Bright. Something brushes against your hair, your fingers twitch and your brow wrinkles, and you realise that you’re lying on cotton sheets – a bed, propped up with pillows stuffed behind your back.

A breeze flows into the room, carrying the smell of pine and sap, but there’s other scents too. Clean laundry, onions and miso, woodsmoke, a whiff of cologne that teases at the edge of your consciousness, familiar somehow. You decide you like it.

Your fingers twitch, but there’s a grogginess that sits heavy on your chest, weighing the rest of you down. The mere thought of prying open your eyes feels like a gargantuan effort, wading through wet cement. Better to stay here, you think, in this half-awake, cozy state. Although… your mouth is kind of dry. That sensation’s back, something fiddling with your hair, but when you go to wave whatever it is off, your arm won’t cooperate. That same arm itches, just below your elbow.

Buried beneath the heavy fog in your mind, a warning bell starts to ring. You’re not where you should be. Something is missing. Something glaring. Something you need to remember–

Thinking requires energy, though. Much easier to roll over and succumb to the sleepiness that coaxes like a lover on a cold winter’s night.

“Can you open your eyes for me?” The voice is… gentle. Sweet. You recognise it, know how it sounds when its owner laughs, yet when you try to draw up a recollection in your mind, it fades before it can fully form, smoke on the breeze. “C’mon, lemme see those pretty eyes. Please?”

Your visitor, with his teasing, pretty voice, touches your cheek – strokes it with the back of his knuckles – and the bed you’re propped up in dips.

It takes more than you expect, prying your sleep crusted eyes open, and then even more not to shut them immediately. Light fills your vision, momentarily blinding you, but you blink a few times and your pupils adjust, the details of your situation – and your visitor – swimming into focus.

Behind amber glasses, his eyes are slightly bluer than his brother’s, the top part of his hair a warmer shade of blond. Nai hadn’t smiled, but Vash beams at you, the expression as natural as breathing, and says, “There she is. How’re you feeling?”

In the space of an instant, it all floods back. The four of you camping in the woods, running into the two of them on the trail that first afternoon, the boys going fishing the next morning. You remember Kumi’s blood splattering across your side, the wide-eyed, gaping look she’d worn, falling to her knees. You remember running through the woods, and the metal trap that snapped over your ankle.

You remember screaming in the woods while the other two ran.

Comfort, coziness, all those pleasant feelings curdle like spoiled milk in your stomach. Warmth leeches from your blood. Dragging your attention from Vash and the quaint, cabin-esque room around you, you finally notice the IV sticking out of your left arm, and below that, the lump beneath the sheets where your broken leg lies.

There’s no pain. Nothing but a fuzzy heaviness that grows more disconcerting by the second. Your throat constricts, your pulse quickening. All you can manage are shallow, wheezing breaths, and Vash’s eyes widen as a terrified whine slips out, like the noise physically pains him.

“Hey, hey, calm down.” His palms come up before you, a gesture of peace before he reaches for your wrist, turning it to ease out the needle and discard it safely out of reach. “You’re okay, we’re taking care of it– of you. I fixed up your leg, and we had to put you under for a little while just to keep–”

His attempts at reassurance only serve to make things worse, and when you choke on something that might be a sob, his expression grows even more stricken.

“No, no, it’s okay! It’s okay. We didn’t have a choice. You could’ve hurt yourself badly and seriously screwed up your recovery, I wasn’t gonna take that risk with you.” He moves to touch your face again, maybe pet at your hair, but second guesses the decision when another whimper escapes you. In the end, he winds up settling for awkwardly trying to plump up the pillows behind you. “Might not look like it, but I was a med school student once upon a time,” he laughs sheepishly, rubbing at the back of his neck with his free hand. His expression swiftly sobers, “Me and Nai, we’re gonna take such good care of you. The best, you’ll see.”

“Please…”

Your voice sounds terrible, dry and rasping, but Vash beams at you all the same.

“It’s okay if you wanna nap for a bit. It’ll take maybe a half-hour or so ‘til the drugs completely wear off. Nai’s working on dinner and I’ve got nowhere else to be. Just lemme know if the pain gets to be too much, I can give you something to help.”

Your stomach pitches.

“Where…” you break off, swallowing down a wince at the stab of pain in your throat. “The others?”

Vash’s expression falters for a split second, quick to smooth over. “I’ll go get you some water. Maybe– you should probably try and rest your voice a while. You did some damage with all the… yeah.”

He pats your hand and rises to leave, throwing one last, tight smile over his shoulder before he exits, leaving the door ajar behind him.

Tears, big, fat, rolling dollops, slide down your cheeks. Nai should’ve killed you in the woods, slit your throat and left you for the animals to scavenge. That, at least, would’ve been a swift end to things. The logical conclusion.

This is a fresh kind of nightmare.

Paired against his brother’s more aloof – bordering on antagonistic – nature, Vash was friendly when they came across your campsite. Bright smiles and an easy laugh, kind of awkward in a goofy, endearing way. Twenty minutes in, and he had you laughing along with the rest of them.

Gun to your head, you would’ve picked him over the proverbial bear, and then you watched as his knife ripped through your friend’s guts like butter.

The worst a bear could’ve done was kill you.

You hiccup on a sob, teeth sinking into your quivering bottom lip. You don’t want to find out what the tender, loving care of a psychopath looks like. Your fingers dig into the sheets, slowly pulling them into a ball in your fist. Another sob warbles, too loud in the silence of the room, and within seconds, Vash is back in the doorway, the promised glass of water in hand.

“Oh, sweetheart, no,” he says, hastily setting it down on the wooden bedside table and reclaiming his seat on the edge of the bed. This time he doesn’t hesitate to throw an arm around your shoulder – mindful at least to minimize the jostling for the sake of your leg – and your heart drops into your stomach when he kisses your temple and tucks you into his side. “Please don’t cry. You’ve been through a lot in such a short space of time, I know, but I promise it’s all gonna get better now. We’ve got you.”

You feel sick, a cold sweat breaking out over your body, but Vash is willfully blind to your distress, your feeble attempts to regain an inch of space between the two of you.

He’s still holding you, mumbling reassurances in your ear when Nai appears in the doorway balancing a tray with three plates on one hand. The aromas from earlier, the onion and the miso, follow him when he steps inside, but they’re stronger now, richer, you can smell the meat, the caramelised notes of the sauce and mortifyingly, your stomach gurgles in eager anticipation.

Loudly.

Vash chuckles and the corner of Nai’s lips twitch, but neither passes comment, Vash unwrapping his arm from your shoulder to lean forward and grab the tray from his brother, settling it on his own lap.

“Feeling back to normal yet?” he asks. “I can help if you’re still woozy.”

You blanch. Not only does your stomach – despite its earlier rumbling – churn at the thought of consuming anything either of them give you, Vash feeding it to you himself brings the whole thing to a new level of disturbing.

Pushing through the bite of pain, you whisper, “N-no thanks. I’m not hungry.”

“Eat,” Nai says, taking one of the plates off the tray and dragging a chair over. His voice brooks no disagreement, those pale eyes narrowed and cool. “If we were going to drug you, the IV in your arm would’ve made more sense, don’t you think? Eat.”

“You’ll like it, Nai’s a beast in the kitchen,” Vash says, offering you a set of cutlery.

You don’t take it, eyeing the two of them warily, like they’re a heartbeat away from exploding from their seats and ripping you apart, which isn’t altogether far from the truth.

Vash pouts, having the nerve to look concerned at your lack of an appetite. “Please? You need to eat, sweetheart.”

A long beat passes, the tension in the room suffocatingly thick, pressing down on you from all angles. There’s a voice in your head – self preservation, probably – urging you to hurry up and do what you’re told, swallow it down like a good little captive.

Play along, and maybe they won’t snap and carve you up into tiny pieces.

You nod, a short, jerky concession, “Fine.”

But your hand shakes so badly when you reach to take the offered silverware that Vash visibly deflates, setting it back down on the tray instead. “… You don’t have to be afraid of us,” he mutters dejectedly, like a kicked puppy. “We’re not going to hurt you.”

Nervously, you dart a glance at Nai, watching the two of you with an indecipherable expression, waiting to see what you’ll do to fix this.

You swallow tightly, turning back to Vash beside you with a plea. “Can– can you help me? My hands, I’m still not…” you trail off, hoping that he won’t make you say it in full.

Instantly, he brightens. “Yeah! Yeah, ‘course I can do that.”

Clearly satisfied, Nai turns his attention to his own meal while Vash starts cutting into the meat, what looks to be pork loin, rolled, glazed and roasted, covered in a sticky miso sauce, stabbing the bite on the end of a fork and offering it to you. Wordlessly, you part your lips, ignoring the roiling in your gut, the sudden tightness in your chest.

When the meat hits your tongue, it melts. Rich, salty umami, a burst of sweetness. Vash already has another mouthful waiting before you swallow the last, an eager grin on his face. It doesn’t escape your notice that he hasn’t touched a bite of his own, all of his focus absorbed in feeding you.

“Do you like it?” Nai asks, though from the smirk he wears, it feels less like a question and more a challenge.

With your mouth full, you simply nod. You’d agree even if it tasted like dirt, but you’re discomforted to find that you mean it. The food is delicious, the flavours, while nothing new in and of themselves, combine beautifully on your palate. It tastes nothing like any pork dish you’ve had before. The plate alone is an artwork, the vegetables and sauce arranged just so around the pork, all with mindful consideration. It makes you think of those Michelin star restaurants you see on cooking shows, where the chefs use tweezers everything down to the garnishes are placed precisely. Perfect.

He takes another bite, thoughtfully chewing, and after he swallows he says, “I’m glad. Tenderloin can be such an unforgiving cut of meat, but when you treat it properly, with care, the flavour and texture speaks for itself, wouldn’t you agree?”

An icy shiver rolls down your spine, but again, you nod, mouth opening to accept another forkful.

—

After he’s finished with feeding you and wolfs down his own plate, Vash leaves with his brother and returns a few moments later with four pills in his palm.

“The red and white ones are antibiotics. The round ones are painkillers,” he explains at your leery expression. “Your leg’s probably gonna start hurting soon. These’ll make you sleepy so we’ll take ‘em now, get you showered and then I can put you to bed.”

Your heart stops dead in your chest. “I–”

Vash powers on like he can’t hear you. “I managed to swing a splint for you, which’ll make it easier for us to keep an eye on your stitches, but they still can’t get wet. There’s a stool we’ve got for the shower and we’ll wrap your leg in some garbage bags to keep everything nice and dry. It’ll be easy, promise.” From the bedside table he retrieves the still untouched glass of water from earlier and holds it out for you to take. “To wash them down.”

Shakily, you pluck the pills from his open hand, accepting the water as well. After a moment’s hesitation you swallow them in two goes, washing the chalky taste down with a few mouthfuls of water.

“Good girl. You ready? Nai should have everything set up and ready for us.”

Vash doesn’t wait for the answer, tugging back the sheets to scoop you up into his arms. You’re too scared to look down at your leg and see the damage there, so instead you wrap your arms around Vash’s neck and bury your face in the crook of his neck, only to stiffen when you breathe in a whiff of his cologne.

You’d smelled it earlier, back when you’d first woken up. Your mind was too scattered then to pull the pieces together and remember why it was so familiar to you.

Tom Ford. You’d gifted your boyfriend the cologne on his birthday last year and he’d worn it religiously every day since. Your brother had given him so much shit when he’d unearthed it in his camping bag while looking for the fire starter.

‘Well, ‘least we know we’ve got some animal repellent if things get dicey.’

Nails sinking into the back of Vash’s shoulder and neck, your stomach threatens to upheave, but if the blond notices, if it bothers him any, he doesn’t give any outward indication, nudging the bathroom door open with his foot and waltzing inside.

Carefully, he sits you on the edge of the vanity, dropping to his knees between your legs. Nai must’ve left the promised stool and the roll of garbage bags that Vash quickly unspools, ripping one off.

“Can you take off your shirt for me, sweetheart?” he asks, blinking up at you with guileless baby blues. “I’ll tape up your leg and we can get you all cleaned up.”

Your head’s still spinning, a queasy, sick feeling sitting heavy in your stomach. The top you’re wearing isn’t yours at all, a few sizes too big, nearly hanging off your shoulder. Beneath, you’re not wearing a bra, you don’t even think you’re wearing panties, but if you focus too intently on the implications of that on top of everything else, you’ll lose it entirely.

At the same time, you desperately, desperately don’t want to be naked in front of this man.

“I don’t need to. I– I can shower with it on, can’t I?”

Vash’s brow wrinkles, an odd look passing over his face. “Don’t be silly, ‘course we can’t.”

“…Please, Vash–”

“C’mon,” he says. “Off.”

You don’t have a choice, especially not with your very fragile, injured leg propped up in his lap. Squeezing your eyes shut, you grab the hem between shaking fingers and before you can think better of it, shuffle slightly so you can pull the garment up over your head, dropping it beside you, quickly wrapping your arm around your exposed chest to hide it from his view.

Vash, meanwhile, tends to your calf, gently sliding it up and over the splint and the bandages, securing it tight with medical tape. When he’s done you feel his lips press a featherlight kiss to your knee. “All done.”

Your eyes are still screwed shut when you hear the water turn on. Footsteps pad against the tiles and you hear the sound of his own clothes hitting the floor, kicked aside haphazardly, and then you’re back in his arms, his bare chest too warm against your skin.

“You’re so fucking pretty,” he mumbles.

Your eyes fly open when, instead of setting you down on the stool Nai left, Vash takes it instead, perching you sideways on his naked lap under the spray.

“This okay?” he asks when your scandalised gaze turns to meet his.

Considering you can feel his twitching dick beneath your thighs, absolutely not, but Vash, as usual, isn’t interested in your answer, holding you steady with one arm and reaching for the body wash and a loofah with the other.

“Don’t worry, I’ll be a perfect gentleman,” he reassures you with a wink and an easy laugh, “Pinky promise.”

“I-I can wash myself,” you eke out, fighting not to hyperventilate when he decides to start with the arm you have wrapped around your tits.

He hums a little, dragging the sudsy loofah in lazy circles up and down your inner arm. “Sure you can, but you don’t have to ‘cause I’m doing it for you.”

“Vash–”

He cuts you off with a series of kisses down your neck. “Shh, baby. Lemme take care of you.”

You decide right then and there that the easiest way to get through it is to close your eyes again and block it out. You’re back in your bathroom at home, and the hand that moves over your chest, paying particular attention to the soft, peaked nipples of your breasts is your own.

You’re at home in your shower. You’re alone. Safe. Nothing is wrong.

With concentrated effort, the shaky illusion holds as long as it takes for Vash to reach the apex of your thighs. At the first pass between your legs, you’re violently yanked back to reality, stiffening in his lap as your heartbeat jackhammers and the urge to throw up returns with a vengeance.

For his part, Vash shudders on a moan, cursing lightly. Beneath your legs you feel the jump of his cock hardening, the rush of blood plumping his length – even the slick smear of what has to be his pre-cum painting the back of your thighs. You squirm and his grip locks around your waist, keeping you in place as he discards the loofah entirely in favour of soaped up fingers sliding between your folds.

“V-ash!”

“I know, I know– Fuck!” His fingers rip away from your pussy, seizing your jaw instead and yanking your face towards his, capturing your lips in a raw, frantic kiss. His tongue sweeps into your mouth, aching and desperate for just a taste of you.

But as quickly as it began, it ends, Vash pulling back with wide, glassy eyes, panting like he’s run a marathon. “Not today,” he says, more to himself than you. “Too fragile right now.

—

The dull, aching throb of your leg wakes you up.

They’d given you some extra pillows to keep it elevated while you slept, which did actually help. In spite of that, you hadn’t had a particularly restful night.

“Sleep well?”

Your eyes shoot open, heart stalling, to find Nai settled into the same chair he ate in last night, idly thumbing through a book.

Vash might be all smiles and sunshine between hacking people up, but you get the sense Nai’s less concerned with a pretense. Without his brother here, there’s no need for either of you to keep up the facade that he’s anything other than a cold-blooded psychopath – one you’re still very much in danger of.

Nai sets the book down as you gingerly wriggle yourself up into a seated position. “Vash isn’t here,” he announces when it becomes clear you have no intention of answering his question. “It’s kind of late, actually. You slept through our visitor this morning.”

He lets the statement dangle in the air, mouth curling. He wants you to press. Push him on it. Play with him – except this is the sort of game you don’t stand a chance of winning. You consider keeping silent purely to spite him, but in the end, curiosity begrudgingly wins out. “…Visitors?”

“Rangers. They wanted to know if we’d seen any campers in the area in the last week or so. Seems a few of ‘em ran off and got themselves lost.” At your wide eyed, gutted expression, his smirk widens. “Vash being Vash offered to show them the campsite we saw occupied a few days back on one of our supply runs into town. Shame it’s been stripped bare since, no sign of the campers anywhere.”

Pain stabs through your heart, twisting mercilessly and robbing you of your breath.

Nai’s taunt from the woods echoes in your head. No one’s coming. If either of them had made it out, they would’ve gone for help. The rangers wouldn’t be looking for them, they’d be looking for you.

Nai leans forward, bracing his elbows on his knees, the shine in his eyes gleaming. “I have a few questions I’d like you to answer for me. Do that, and I’ll take you to the other two.”

“Just like that?”

It can’t be that simple, you know it can’t.

“I expect honesty, but that’s the gist of it. Answer the questions, and I’ll show you where we’re keeping the other two, cross my heart and hope to die.”

Feeling much like you’re bargaining your soul away to the devil, you steel your nerves and nod. “Alright. Ask away.”

“You went camping with your boyfriend, your older brother and his girlfriend, correct? A double date of sorts.”

You nod.

“Are you close with your brother?”

Not the question you were expecting, but one that’s easy enough to answer without bearing too much of your soul. “I guess it depends on how you define close. We don’t live in the same city anymore and he isn’t the type to call every week or every month for that matter, but we love each other. He’d come if I needed him to.”

Nai nods as though he expected as much. “What about your boyfriend?”

“Are we close?”

He makes an unimpressed noise. “Do you love him?”

Throat tight, you nod wordlessly.

“How long were you with him?”

The question’s harmless enough, and yet the hair on the back of your neck stands on end, a fresh wave of unease twisting in your gut. Fighting the urge not to wilt under his scrutiny, you answer, “… Almost three years.”

He mulls that over for a moment, a slow smile overtaking his face. “You have good, solid relationships with both. You claim to love them, and presumably that love was returned – none of that stopped either one from abandoning you to die–”

“They didn’t abandon me!” you defend.

“– That part wasn’t a question. All they had to do was find the release and you would’ve been free, they didn’t even try.” Abruptly, he rises from his chair, stalking to your side and slamming a palm onto the headboard behind you. Gone is the cold, calm predator from the woods. Nai’s panting, nostrils flaring with every ragged breath and his eyes look almost manic, flitting over your face. Crowding into your space, he snarls, “They left you! Don’t you understand; your death was a perfectly acceptable outcome if it guaranteed their survival! That’s human nature, they aren’t special in that regard, selfishness will always win out in the end.”

Every accusation hits its mark, smashing through your meagre resistance, flaying you open and bloody before him. You have no response, no defence, nothing left but the swell of pain and heartbreak pumping through your veins.

“They left you,” he repeats, driving the dagger deeper into the bruised, shredded remains of your chest. “Last question: whose sin is more unforgivable? The brother who should’ve protected you or the lover who should’ve had the decency to die with you?”

“I-I–” you flounder, grasping for words that won’t come. “I don’t– t-they didn’t– please–” There’s no stopping the tears this time, they roll down your cheeks unencumbered. “Please,” you beg. “Please, I can’t–”

You can’t breathe.

Hunched over, gasping for breath, the room spinning, heart pounding, the last thing you expect is for Nai to pick you up much like Vash had, hauling you to his chest. Rather than carrying you out of the room, Nai sinks into the warm spot you left, settling back against the headboard and adjusting your leg over his lap. “They left you,” he whispers into your ear. “We’re taking you. Understand, little lamb?”

Sobbing into his shirt, you can only nod.

—

Gently easing the door shut behind him, Vash gives his brother a look, seizing his arm and hauling him down the hall towards the kitchen.

“You didn’t have to be that cruel,” he snaps when they’re far enough that their voices won’t disturb your rest.

Nai shrugs, “If I wanted to be cruel, I would’ve taken her down to the walk-in to see your handy-work.” He neglects to add that that originally was his plan – he simply hadn’t anticipated how fragile you’d be, or that you’d break so easily for him. Showing you the half butchered corpses hanging in the fridge when you were in that state would’ve done more harm than good.

He needs you pliable, not catatonic.

Vash narrows his eyes, scowling at his brother. “You’re an asshole. I left you two alone with her for a few hours!”

“Your mistake then.”

If looks could kill– “I’m serious, Nai. You promised.”

His amusement dies a quick death. “And I meant it, don’t ever question me on that. She isn’t going anywhere, but unless you wanna keep breaking those pretty ankles of hers, this is necessary. I need you to trust me.”

Vash holds his gaze for a long moment before his eyes drop and he sighs, the anger bleeding from his posture. “I do,” he croaks. “I do, I just… I’m sorry.”

Nai turns, a hand clasped on his shoulder, drawing his brother in to press their foreheads together for a brief moment. “I know you are,” he says when they part, Vash blinking up at him. Water under the bridge and all that, such is the nature of family. “Before you head back to her, I need ribs for dinner tonight. One rack should do it, I think.”

His little brother lights up, happy, as always, to be of service. “Yeah. Yeah, I can do that.”

#i think i tagged it all #yandere trigun #yandere trigun x reader #yandere vash #yandere vash the stampede x reader #yandere knives millions #yandere knives millions x reader #tw: dubcon

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