okay this was SUPPOSED to be for @trigunrareshipweek but it kinda got away from me (as if i ever had it in the first place) and it took... a lot longer than i anticipated to finish... LOL
notes + extra under the cut
vash's thought process was something like, "he hates my guts, of course he wouldn't want to kiss me!" but he didn't really think it through like at all
the kisses are chaste because if legato had used his long-ass tongue vash would have pulled away out of surprise and the game would have ended early... LOL
that said i think if they weren't interrupted they could have gotten to that point
here's a doodle of them actually kissing with tongue because i kept looking at my own art and thinking they should and i couldn't stand it anymore
122 notes
·
View notes
Redraw of a picture I saw on Twitter and got inspiration to draw this, because it makes sense if you think about it hehe
I really like how this came out and here’s the original post
101 notes
·
View notes
Actually managed a fic for Levash Week despite RL being stacked against me! WOOHOO. Written for Day 2: Omegaverse AU (but I did a twist on it).
Title: A Martyr's Taste
Rating: M
Pairing: Legato/Vash
Tags: Cakeverse AU, Self-Sacrifice, Blood Drinking, Trigun Maximum Spoilers, Religious Imagery & Symbolism
Summary/Preview: "The blood of Vash the Stampede flowed from the arm wound he’d inflicted earlier, staining the air with a different scent than expected. It wasn’t copper, nor salt, but rather…"
6 notes
·
View notes
“I want to make you feel good.”
If there was anyone that occupied his mind even more than his Lord and Light did, regrettably, it was his brother. Even when he wanted nothing but to fill his restless, calculating mind with pleasurable fantasies of finally dying at the hands of his Angel- Somehow the other blonde managed to completely sour those moments. The fact that he even existed set his teeth on edge, made his shoulders tight with astriction, heated the pit of his chest with a hellish resentment he'd never once tasted so bitterly before.
No matter how many times Vash refused him, even bringing his God Almighty to the verge of death itself, His Eternal Radiance would always favor his twin- Would always love him more than he even passingly spared a thought for Legato. He'd once thought himself special, he wasn't like the others due to lacking any kind of number. He was entrusted to see that his Lord's will was carried out come what may, hinged upon his every word and offer of wisdom, truly and deeply cared for him with an ardor unmatched. Where fools like the Punisher saw blind loyalty, he knew where he stood with Lord Knives'.
Once.
Bluesummers never feels things with only half of his heart. When there is love, it is as vast and terrifyingly deep as the oceans that once covered the Earth. When there is hatred, it is as fierce and exuberant as the very fires of Hell itself. When and where did the line of distinction between the two begin to blur? How is it that he finds himself locked in an intimate embrace with the very person who possesses everything that he yearns and pines for, yet appreciates none of it?
He wanted to strangle the life out of that pale, pretty throat with both of his trembling hands, instead his tongue laves a wet stripe from the join of clavicles to the underside of his willing prey's chin. His incisors bite down against a hammering pulse point, fingers rending clothes and clawing possessively at bare flesh, flushed pink and bruising reddish-purple beneath his grip.
There is a moment where steely hands close over his wrists and his stomach flips on itself, a brief shot of pure animal panic coursing through his veins. He's being shushed with muffled, open-mouthed kisses- Peppering his lips, chin, jaw, the apple of each cheek. Legato's frenzied hunger and instinctual fear of being bound is quieted with gentle touches and slower exploration of his own body, fingers pressing into the natural centerline of his sternum, skirting over the broadness of his chest.
The admission spoken between them in hushed, reverent whispers somehow makes him hyperaware of their closeness, the way Vash laces their long, slender fingers together and rubs the pad of his thumb against Legato's lower lip with featherlight strokes. He's unsure how to answer at first, so accustomed to others simply taking what they wanted, his own desperation and need for control subsiding in the moment. His golden eyes widen slightly, searching his partner's expression and finding nothing along the lines of cruelty or possessiveness, nor the desire to humiliate or hurt him. Nothing, save for a tender kind of warmth to his features, an earnest desire to make his intentions known to Bluesummers before proceeding.
Taking a slow, deep breath into his expanding lungs, he closes his eyes and dares to place himself in Vash's attentive care- Leaning into the hand cupping his chin and nodding faintly.
6 notes
·
View notes
💭💭💭
As someone who tends to read people well, the first thing that jumps out at Vash about Legato is how difficult it is to discern his intentions. There's something empty about him. Something in this world has carved scars into his soul as deep and inerasable as the ones on Vash's skin, and he worries if he looks too closely for too long he might slip and fall into that void, dragged down by the undertow of unquenchable, righteous anger.
Still waters run deep and the current is strong.
And yet there is always that part of Vash, that acts outside of his self interest and that is that part that wants to see how far down "bottomless" really is. The part that wonders what it would take to catch a glimpse of Legato's humanity.
3 notes
·
View notes
So an update on LeVashWeek: it's running from March 10th - March 16th of this year and in order to have as much time as possible to complete the prompts, they're going out now c:
26 notes
·
View notes