trigunwritings

[trigunwritings]

Are you OK? :0 just checking in, I don't want to bother you.

I am, thank you for asking! My ADHD-riddled brain has just been stolen away by the new Legend of Zelda game since it came out a few weeks ago (@breathofthewildwritings is where I’d post any shenanigans) and I’ve actually been working on a business project of my own over at @multiversepostalservice!

I know I’ve gotten a couple requests recently, and if I have the time and inspiration I’ll certainly have them posted, otherwise I just kinda ride where my hyperfixation takes me c:

[trigunwritings]

✉️ Letters from across the multiverse! 📬

Imagine for a moment that you are going about your day while traversing everyday stressors—maybe you’re focusing on difficult classes or are dealing with a lot of responsibilities at work, or perhaps its simply a bunch of small things that altogether can be exhausting.

Now imagine that you get an alert that you have a letter waiting for you—a letter that is customized and designed specifically from a beloved comfort character! Perhaps it’s encouragement to get through your studies, or a casual conversation to take your mind off of work; who wouldn’t want to have something like that to brighten their day?

To many people, a comfort character is a fictional character that someone uses to cope with difficult life experiences. They may be used as an escape from reality, or to help work through periods of stress and uncertainty. Sometimes a comfort character is simply a person’s favorite in a work of fiction, or it is a character that they feel a personal and genuine connection to.

My name is Daniel, and I have been writing for well over a decade across original and fandom-based content—and most of that has been for a style of writing most commonly called reader-insert, which allows the reader to immerse themselves in the world of the writing itself. I have always enjoyed exploring a variety of characters and how they resonate with people across the world, and have myself found comfort in the safety of fiction during stressful periods of my life.

With the Multiverse Postal Service, I’m offering my skills and experience to craft you, your self-insert, an OC or a loved one (because who doesn’t love a gift?) a customized letter from your favorite characters!

For more information, or if you are curious to see some of the traditional content I have written, check out the links below!

Etsy Shop | FAQ | Available Universes

AO3 | Main Blog

[trigunwritings]

Hi there!! I hope you are having a wonderful day/night! I was wondering if your requests are open? I don’t see anywhere if it is😅

That’s because I usually keep my askbox open all the time on most of my writing blogs—generally a thing of habit, since I never know when a particular request will catch my eye or I’ll get bit by a writing bug. I forget that a lot of other blogs usually list their askbox status somewhere though, and have added that info on my pinned post!

But yes, I am almost always open for requests! The time it takes for me to get to any particular one can vary wildly since I work full time and juggle other responsibilities, but feel free to send an idea my way anytime if you like!

[trigunwritings]

Names and Things

Rating: General

Relationship: Fem!Reader/Vash/Wolfwood

Summary: On the way home, Vash and Wolfwood argue.

Written by @blood--hunter

Note: A continuation of Bad Habits, but it’s not necessarily canon unless you, the reader, want it to be. The reader is married to Vash and Wolfwood. Implied to be pregnant. Never shown.

“Can’t believe you forgot the car…” Wolfwood grumbled, adjusting the rope over his shoulder. It was one thing to have to carry his weapon, but something else entirely to drag a man halfway across the desert.

Vash has the decency to at least look a little ashamed.

“Well, forgot is a strong word.”

“You got it fucking stolen. Didn’t you?”

His husband reamains quiet and Wolfwood can only shake his head. “You’re the reason I need to smoke.”

The leader of the Glass-Gang is still passed out, so there’s that. His luck wasn’t all bad today and there was the thought of returning home to their wife with full pockets and a job well done. That—at the very least—lifted his spirits.

“So,” Wolfwood says, trying to focus on something other than the near unbareable heat, “I was thinking Leon D. Wolfwood.”

Vash bulks, swinging his blond head around to look at him. “Who says he’s gonna get your last name!”

“Because I’m the only one who has one! Dumbass!”

“Well!” Vash stalls, obivously trying to think of a comeback as he pouts, “What about Kevin the Stampede?”

“Kevin? Really.”

His husband nods resolutely, “Or maybe—maybe something like Colton!”

“You just really want a hard ‘K’ sound, don’t you?”

“Yeah! I think it sounds cool!”

Wolfwood rolls his eyes and looks back as the man he had been tugging across the sand begins to stir.

“Looks like our bounty is waking up.”

Vash eyes the man as well before looking at Wolfwood with a smile, “Why don’t we ask him? Hey! Do you like Leon or Kevin?”

“Huh?” Is all the gang leader says.

Nicholas shakes his head, passing the rope to Vash.

“I’ve been dragging him for half a mile now. You take him.”

“No way!”

“You’re the one that lost the car!”

Vash takes the rope, pouting. Nick can only watch him, one brow raised. He didn’t dare slip a cigarette into his mouth, knowing that it would just end up flying into the desert like a piece of paper. Though, his fingers did itch for the lighter in his pocket.

“And if it’s a girl?” He asks, not thinking.

Vash gets that far away look on his face, the look he gets when he or their wife accidentally trips on something from his past. She’s always better at soothing him, but Wolfwood doesn’t know what to do in these situations, too used to being “tough” and not letting these things get to him.

“Rem. We’ll name her Rem.”

He’s silent for a few moments more, letting the sun beam down on the back of his neck. “Yeah. I think I like that.”

“I think Kevin sounds good.”

Both Vash and Nick swing their heads around, staring at the man half unconcious in the sand, a rope firmly around his middle.

“Yeah, maybe Leon isn’t so bad…” Vash murmurs, beginning to walk once more, the gang leader slowly being dragged after him.

“Told you … Do you think she’ll like it?”

“Ask her and find out! But I don’t think she’ll go for the middle initial.”

“D is not that bad!”

“…What does it even stand for anyways?”

[trigunwritings]

I don’t know if tumblr ate it or if it was deleted, but someone replied to one of my recent posts that went something along the lines of being happy for discovering this blog and getting into Trigun because of it bc it helped combat their depression.

I didn’t get a chance to properly respond to that before it seems to have disappeared (and I swear I’m not insane) and while I can’t recall who had left that, if that person is reading this, then please know I really appreciated your kind words and greatly relate to the experience as one who struggles with depression frequently and finds a lot of joy in connecting with new fandoms and the communities of people they foster

I really hope you’re able to continue finding joy in all the other layers to Trigun—manga and first anime alike—and that you continue to enjoy what I make!

[trigunwritings]

Vash x Fem!Reader

Vash slowly realizing that he’s falling in love with her and might even wanna marry her one day. Just him enjoying every bit of time he spends with her.

When the thought first crosses his mind, its too early in the morning to ponder upon it—the sun has barely risen from its hiding spot behind the horizon, and the sky is aglow in pinks and oranges so beautiful that it’s hard to believe someone could die beneath it in the span of just a few hours. The land is barren for iles beyond where the sand kisses the sky, but it looks so peaceful at a mere glance. Strokes of golden dunes beneath the brief but peaceful dawn.

But the sky isn’t what’s holding Vash’s attention.

You must have gotten up early, possibly when the sky was dark and the stars still visible. You’re lightly dressed, but facing away from him and sipping lightly a drink which must have been warmed by the fire not too long ago given that the ashes are still smoldering. Coffee? Tea? Vash can’t tell, but it smells nice on the soft morning breeze.

He watches your silhouette against the horizon as the thought crosses his mind for a second time, but ultimately decides it’s better to pretend that he’s still sleeping.

-

When it happens again, the two of you are at a nameless bar in an equally nameless town—one of many across this stretch of the desert, if only because of the multiple reserves of ground water and compact soil that make it easier to grow small patches of crops. Not easy, but easier; there’s always a difference.

But it means the town is lively and the booze is all too easy to get ahold of. Vash never intended for the two of you to get tipsy, but you’re giggling at his stupid jokes all the same with a soft smile that never quite leaves your lips.

Maybe it’s the alcohol, but Vash feels his heart race for the entire evening, even when he finally retires to his rented bed, and tries not to think of you in the room next door and how nice it might be to sleep beside you.

He fails spectacularly and barely gets a moment of rest in the entire night.

-

It’s almost too easy to ignore his injury. Given that his body is more scars than smooth flesh, Vash can ignore a majority of the pain flashing and flaring across his thoughts. It was a small bullet, and it had just barely caught the side of his abdomen—missed anything important, but there was still so much blood to deal with.

He tries to assure you that he’s okay, but it doesn’t help; you fuss over him with hands grasping at his coat, tugging off his layers of clothes until fear is gripping harder around Vash’s heart than the pain of being shot. But before he can say anything, before he can even prepare himself for the inevitable disgust-laced pity sure to come over your eyes, your hands are already tearing apart strips of cloth from anything you can spare to destroy off your own body.

Don’t you notice? Don’t you see? The countless marks, the poorly-healed wounds and broken bones of a man who would barely keep his own mind and body together.

Still, the look across your tear-filled eyes is nothing short of desperate and miserable, voice muddled with sobs as you try to assure Vash that he’s going to be okay, even as your hands are stained with his blood soaking through all the layers of makeshift gauze.

And Vash—the one who is injured, the one who should arguably be the most concerned in the situation—can only feel one thing as he watches you cry for him.

The pain is dull and distant in comparison.

-

“I love you.”

Vash blinks, taken a bit by surprise when the words leaves your lips. It takes a few moments for him to fully comprehend what you’ve said, and a few moments more to react to it—his eyes widen and his heart starts to race just like that one drunken night together, only this time he can’t blame the alcohol.

You look so scared. Eyes flickering across the ground as if unable to meet his, your hands twisting together so tight that he’s almost worried that you’ll hurt yourself without meaning to.

But the words, they echo over and over themselves within his mind.

And this time, the response comes from him all too easily. It’s natural and instinctive, blooming forth like a flower as it drinks up the sunlight. No longer idle thoughts, no longer ignored, no longer denied.

“I love you too.”

And he wants to keep repeating it forever.

[trigunwritings]

📝🫣🌷💦

If anyone was wondering the image I had in mind for Vash's junk in my fic 'As Our Fingers Entwine' (and any upcoming fics featuring Vash's with nonhuman biology) here's a handy link from Twitter that visualizes it damn near perfectly.

NSFW LINK AHEAD

[trigunwritings]

Bad Habits (and Dutiful Husbands)

Rating: General

Relationships: Fem!Reader/Wolfwood/Vash

Summary: Vash and Wolfwood have to take care of a job, but their thoughts are still with their wife.

Written by @blood--hunter

Note: Reader is referred to as wife and uses she/her. Various pet names are also used through the writing.

The lighter sparked to life with only one flick. Wolfwood sighs in relief, lifting the small dancing flame to his cigarette as if it were as delicate as a butterfly. Just as he’s about to cup his hand—mostly out of habit— around the end, there is the sound of a gunshot.

In the same breath that the bullet meets his cigarette, Nicholas lets out a sigh. He had known it was going to happen, but it was still an annoyance that made his teeth grind.

“Seriously?” He asks, flickering dark eyes to the man walking towards him. Vash was dressed in his usual red coat as always, blond hair waving gently in the desert wind. “You couldn’t even let me have one drag?”

Though his gun was nowhere to be seen, Vash was the only one stupid enough to literally shoot something out of Nicholas D. Wolfwood’s mouth and not expect any consequences or accidental injuries.

“You heard the little lady.” Vash said, taking the final few steps to stand before his husband. “No more smoking. It’s bad for your lungs!”

Nick gnashed his teeth again, leaning against the large, cross-shaped gun that was behind him. Vash was, unfortunately, right. Their wife had strict orders for him not to smoke anymore largely out of concern for his health. He hadn’t the heart to tell her that his newfound powers would keep anything like cancer at bay, instead acquiescing to her and Vash’s whims than try to make the argument.

“Whatever,” He spits, turning his eyes to the ruined, ramshackle house before him. Within was hidden the Glass Gang, known for burning down any town they went through and turning the sand itself to glass in their wake. They preferred fire as their weapon of choice, and there was a bounty on them that could cover the bills for months. “At least I didn’t show up late.”

“Aw, c’mon, I just got a little held up.”

Wolfwood didn’t comment—with Vash, the excuse was probably literal.

He hoists his gun onto his shoulder, letting it sit there as he sauntered to the front door.

“Hey,” the man said, banging loudly at the door that held on by barely one hinge, “Come on out!”

“Could be a little more polite.” Vash sighs, but he stands there regardless, hovering over Nick’s shoulder like a worried hen.

Ever since they’d gotten married he had started doing that. He did it to their wife too, hovering, fidgetting, worrying about their health and how they felt. It was Vash’s way of showing how he cared, so Nick allowed it, and sometimes—only sometimes—he even found it cute. Their wife had told him that he needed to accept some things, like people caring about him, when they got married. Her words rang in his ears in moments like these.

It’s because he loves you, Wolfwood. Let him.

“Ain’t commin’ out!” A voice finally rings from inside.

He sighs. Sometimes he wished he’d just picked a different profession. Maybe being the town preacher would have been better, but it never really stuck and—if he were an honest man—he preferred sticking to Vash’s side. Otherwise, their wife would have done it and he didn’t think he could bare being the one at home taking care of things while she and their husband was out earning money.

Vash pipes up before Wolfwood can think of anything to say. “We have donuts!”

“Really?”

Nick raises a brow, looking to his husband. Vash is subtly shaking his head no.

So, it was a lie, then.

The voice inside responds all the same, “Then I guess I will!”

Nick has enough forethought to leap away from he door, grabbing Vash by the edge of his sleeve and hauling ass. Just as they get clear the slab of wood is kicked open— a burst of flames taking up the space where they had just stood.

Vash whines from beside them as they hit the sand. He looks over his shoulder to see a tall man—taller than even Vash— standing in the doorway. The gang-member held a huge flame thrower in his hands, complete with a large tank attached to the back of it, probably filled with some sort of fuel.

“What? No donuts for me!” The man says, a wide, hungry grin on his face, “Or are they all burnt?” Nick rolls his eyes but Vash chuckles, even if it is a little awkward.

“So,” His husband speaks from beside him as they both stand, dusting themselves off. “No way we can convince you to just turn yourselves in?”

“‘Fraid not.”

“Well, that stinks.” Vash sighs, “And here I told my wife that I wouldn’t get into any trouble today.”

“Our wife,” Wolfwood corrects, expression straight and unwavering.

The gang-member’s face crumples in confusion and discuss. “Your wife? What kind of woman would marry you two assholes?”

Nicholas lifts the punisher, taking aim for the tank of fuel, but Vash stops him with a firm hand on the end of his gun.

“Now, now, no need to go insulting us.”

The man chuckles. Nicholas’ frown deepens. One more stupid word and he was going to be eating lead.

“Nah, I won’t insult you anymore. But I am gonna make your little lady at home eat your ashes!”

He lifts his flame thrower. Vash dodges out of the way, rolling to the man’s side while Wolfwood goes the other way both of them are flanking him but as they get into position gun fire erupts from the house. The rest of the gang was joining the party.

Fine by him.

Wolfwood strafes with the weight of his weapon on his shoulder, letting bullets strip through the house’s walls. He knew Vash didn’t want anyone killed, and he didn’t want to disappoint his husband, but it was better to lay down covering fire and risk maiming someone than get killed themselves. Their wife would never forgive them if the both of them didn’t come back in one piece.

Vash, for his part, acclimates quickly to the new scenario and moves to be behind the large man. Unwilling to fire at—what seems to be—their boss, or to get hit themselves, the gang-members stop firing, probably to attempt to repossession themselves.

Their leader growls deep in the back of his throat, trying to swing around to set Vash ablaze but Wolfwood’s husband is too fast, and manages to stay behind him as he swings from side to side.

“Get back here you little freak!”

“No thanks! I don’t wanna end up roasted!”

“Fight fair damnit!”

“Nope!”

As the two of them continue to bicker, Wolfwood makes his way into the house. There are five other gang members and all of them are scrawny, hungry men who aren’t very hard to take down now that their cover is gone and their boss is preoccupied. After tying them up with rope as one big group he emerges from the house again.

Vash has his hands raised, a simpering smile on his face as the boss points the nozzle of his flame-thrower at the other man.

“Got you now!”

Wolfwood sighs, rolling his eyes. “When are you going to stop playing with him?”

The boss smiles wide, eyeing him. “What? So you want me to roast your husband right in front of your eyes!”

“Wasn’t talking to you.”

The man’s face crumples in confusion, but it’s Vash who speaks next. “Oh, I was just gonna let him get this out of his system first.”

With a click the gang-member attempts to light his weapon. Then another click. And another.

Click. Click. Click.

It’s only now that he realizes the tank of fuel is long gone, Vash having gotten rid of it long before Wolfwood even went into the house.

“W-What?!”

“Sorry buddy, couldn’t let you go around setting people on fire!”

Before the man can say anything more, he’s on the ground and his hands are tied behind his back.

Another long breath leaves Nicholas and he grabs for his cigarettes without thinking. He barely has time to put it in his mouth before a gunshot rings out, knocking it away once again.

“God damnit blondie!”

“Hey! Wifey’s orders!”

[trigunwritings]

“Your plan has failed. Now let’s end this.”

Trigun Stampede #12, High Noon at July

[trigunwritings]

Because I had so much fun making that Vash collage/wallpaper, I decided to see if I could make one for other characters of the Tristamp series.

Wolfwood was *much* harder, mostly because he’s scowling all the dang time and there’s not a lot of great medium/closeup shots of him so far, but I think it came out pretty good!

Also a bonus version below the cut:

[trigunwritings]

I lied if your favorite is Milly then you are officially playing 5D chess and are like the raddest person in the room

What your favorite character in Trigun Stampede says about you

Vash the Stampede: You have a lot of insecurities you rarely show other people and are always a ray of sunshine despite the soul-crushing trauma. You make promises you can’t always keep. Also you want to either bully or top Vash. Probably both at the same time.

Nicholas D. Wolfwood: You have a deeply complicated relationship with religion or couldn’t care less and just think the giant cross gun is hot. You might want to be bullied by him just a little bit.

Roberto de Niro: You either have a daddy kink or are a connoisseur for characters that act as the realist in most situations.

Meryl Stryfe: You are a new up-and-coming specialist in your career field. You also probably hate insects.

Millions Knives: Either you have a superiority complex or are completely convinced that you would be able to fix him and his hatred of humanity. Regardless, godspeed to you.

Zazie the Beast: You love insects arguably too much. Are you okay?

Legato Bluesummers: You’re either bi or are a huge fan of the original anime.

Livio: You originally liked Wolfwood but think white hair is hotter.

Milly Thompson: I think you’re watching the wrong series but I respect you.

[trigunwritings]

Ngl after todays episode I am ecstatic, nay, overjoyed that pretty much all the predictions for how Tristamp is being paced to later connect with all the familiar elements from Trimax were completely correct. As someone who read most of Trimax before getting far into the Stampede series, I have to say the creators have done an excellent job at remixing elements to let both new and old fans properly get up to speed so we’re all on a level playing field of hype when the next season comes out

But also when Vash’s hair did the thing I was 👌👏👀🎉🎊👌

[trigunwritings]

Istg I can't stop thinking about the 'Lemme smash' video, every time angelic plants and their possible correlation with bird behaviour are discussed—

Vash:

Meanwhile, Knives:

[trigunwritings]

based on those asks of plant!reader subconsciously giving the bedroom eyes by flexing their wings and plant!reader being meant for reproduction

warning for nsfw, noncon/dubcon-ish?, breeding kink

but

potential yandere knives, driven up the wall by plant!reader stretching their wings and 100% sure they're doing this to tease him (they're not), decides to pound them into the bed (1/2)

one moment reader is just innocently stretching, the next they're in bed, well bred, seed leaking out of their cunt and a very smug knives plastered against their back :3 (2/2)

my breeding kink comes swinging in full force aha-

Knives is completely satisfied with himself while the reader is exhausted, well-fucked, but completely confused as to how the hell that mind-blowing sex was initiated in the first place--and they're too nervous or embarrassed to ask about it 🤣

Bonus points if Knives doesn't realize the miscommunication until waaay later and gets a little flustered about it

But for real: breeding kink? 👌 Yandere Knives? 👏👌 Yandere Knives with a breeding kink? 👏👌🎉👀🤝

[trigunwritings]

My wife asked me to make her a collage of Vash for her phone background, and I like to think for someone who doesn’t do these sorts of things often I think it came out nice!

I couldn’t decide which version I liked better for the color balance so woe, Vash collage be upon ye

[trigunwritings]

lol vash coming home one to find his beloved half sunk in the groundsoil covered in grass and beautiful flowers of various types. you'd imagine it prob hurts a bit but nope, they're just chilling and letting their garden sprout as freely as it deserves. vash would die protecting that garden we love so much, he thinks we're so precious and worth every penny of his time no matter what.

They're just vibing happily on the ground with a bunch of blossoms sprouting around them as the others just watch in confusion and awe and Vash is just. Generally pleased about the whole thing.

Wolfwood: What the hell are you doing?

Plant!Reader, from beneath several layers of flowers: I'm photosynthesizing!

Wolfwood: You're doing WHAT?

Vash: Dude didn't you hear they're photosynthesizing, no need to be rude about it

[trigunwritings]

what if plant reader can physically grow healthy plants (flowers, leaves, etc) on themselves and use them like solar panels?

I love that idea!!

I also love the idea that it means the reader can essentially have a flower crown on their head that is both pretty and entirely functional, though I can't imagine how annoying or painful it might be anytime someone tries to take it off of them only to realize it's physically part of their body.

They also like to lay out in the sun like a cat, covered in blooms and enjoying the sun while they get energized for the day 🌸🌼🌺