Thread by @stygian_stars

It isn't even supposed to be that big of a deal - his birthday.

He'd just wanted to spend it with his mother; a quiet day in. Movies & junk food. 𝘔𝘢𝘺𝘣𝘦 another friend or two.

But then Meryl had found out & told Zazie who'd told Legato who'd told Wolfwood.

#plantcest #KV

Now the entire damn university knows.

Long story short, Knives is more or less being forced to host a massive birthday bash now.

His mother is 𝘣𝘦𝘺𝘰𝘯𝘥 excited about it. "You're finally going to introduce me to all your friends?" He asks with an unsettling sparkle in his eye.

Knives frowns. "My friends are idiots. They aren't worth meeting."

"𝘕𝘢𝘪!"Vash flicks his forehead. "Behave."

"They're trying to do something nice for you!"

Knives rolls his eyes. "The only thing they're trying to do is get free food & beer."

Vash gives him a look.

Knives shrinks into himself, shoulders hunching. "... I just wanted to spend it with you." He sulks.

"Baby, that's sweet," Vash reaches out to cup his cheek. "But you spend every day with me." He rubs his thumb in little arcs over his jaw. "You should go out with your friends a little more, no? They'll think you don't love them."

"I don't." Knives mutters. He noses into his

mother's palm. "I love 𝘺𝘰𝘶."

"You can't be this antisocial your entire life, Nai."

"𝘞𝘢𝘵𝘤𝘩 𝘮𝘦."

🪷

Knives doesn't want anyone seeing his mother.

Not the powerful men who keep sending little gifts & trinkets through the post.

Not the filthy rich women dropping off expensive wines every other day. And definitely not his shithead, nymphomaniac friends.

He knows what people think when they see Vash. He knows what they 𝘭𝘰𝘰𝘬 at. What they appreciate - what 𝘩𝘦 has appreciated all along.

His mother is 𝘨𝘰𝘳𝘨𝘦𝘰𝘶𝘴.

He has legs for 𝘥𝘢𝘺𝘴; pretty little swell of an ass that bounces just right before it tightens up into narrow hips & a grabbable waist. He has these elegant fingers by which to pull him in. Delicate wrists by which to hold him down.

Strong & lean & soft & sweet all at once. Such an adorable smile it'd make the very angels weep; the absolute softest pinkest cheeks; eyes so blue & so deep they'd put any ocean to shame— Knives 𝘸𝘰𝘳𝘩𝘴𝘪𝘱𝘴 him.

His mother is the 𝘱𝘦𝘳𝘧𝘦𝘤𝘵 being; god's most beautiful creation.

If he were forced - at gunpoint - to pick out a flaw, it'd be Vash's endearing clumsiness. But that endearing clumsiness is what completes him - makes him the utterly faultless being that he is.

He's that cliche anime heroine with the endless upskirt shots; the one that keeps falling on her boobs & having the most convenient accidents; a lot of slips & falls that end with people between his legs, noses shoved into his favorite red panties.

Too many people, K̶n̶i̶v̶e̶s̶ ̶i̶n̶c̶l̶u̶d̶e̶d̶, take advantage of that.

Vash is just— he's too fucking pretty & too fucking oblivious for them not to.

He's too much of a perfect target.

𝘒𝘯𝘪𝘷𝘦𝘴 thinks it. So he knows his idiot frat brothers & friends are going to think it too.

Which brings him back to why he desperately, 𝘥𝘦𝘴𝘱𝘦𝘳𝘢𝘵𝘦𝘭𝘺 wants them as far away from his mother as humanly possible

Vash is 𝘩𝘪𝘴.

He doesn't want to share him.

He shouldn't 𝘩𝘢𝘷𝘦 to.

He's aware it's - 𝘩𝘦'𝘴 - abnormal. He's aware most children stop sharing beds & baths with their parents early on; that their clinginess fades with time; that they don't press their lips into their mother's pretty collarbones or their noses up

against their carotids to breathe them in. He's aware that they don't linger when their mothers kiss them on the lips; that they don't cuddle up like a lover between their mother's legs on movie night; that they don't let their hands wander during hugs.

He's aware most children don't furiously beat their dicks to innocent family photos of their mothers. He's 𝘢𝘣𝘯𝘰𝘳𝘮𝘢𝘭. He 𝘬𝘯𝘰𝘸𝘴.

But Vash doesn't. And Vash is 𝘩𝘪𝘴.

Except Vash won't let him be a recluse. So now Knives is silently losing his mind as he waits for

disaster to strike.

It's the fated day. His 21st birthday. Meryl says they're five minutes away.

"Can you turn back? 𝘗𝘭𝘦𝘢𝘴𝘦?"

Vash slaps his arm.

Knives looks down at him, worried.

His mother's endearing clumsiness has manifested today - of all days - with too-short

shorts & one of Knives' biggest sweaters.

Absolutely cute as a fucking button.

Knives wants to 𝘥𝘪𝘦. He can already see Wolfwood leering at his mother; all stops pulled out - bad boy charm working overtime.

For the seventh time today, he considers killing him - Wolfwood - as

a preemptive strike.

"Mama, please just stay in my room." He begs instead because he doesn't think his mother would particularly enjoy seeing him go to jail for aggravated assault turned manslaughter.

Vash makes a face. "Are you really that embarrassed of me?"

"I'm no-!" Knives stops. Reconsiders. "𝘠𝘦𝘴." He says. Maybe this way his Vash might actually go hide in his room.

His mother stares at him, blank. Then he grins. Tilts his head. Boops the tip of his nose. "You're so cute when you lie, baby."

Knives wants to scream.

Gonna continue after class, lmk what y'all think cuz this has been rotting my brain for a week 👌🏾

𝘔𝘢𝘮𝘢!" He actually does whisper-scream when he hears the front gates screeching open. "Mama 𝘱𝘭𝘦𝘢𝘴𝘦-," he grabs Vash's arm & starts pulling.

"Baby, I just want to say hi-," he yelps. "What the- 𝘕𝘢𝘪!"

He startles when his son suddenly drops his wrist - "what're

you-?" - only to reach out & wrap a thick arm around his waist instead.

"Ohmyg-!" He squeaks when he's 𝘭𝘪𝘧𝘵𝘦𝘥. Right off the ground - he's 𝘭𝘪𝘧𝘵𝘦𝘥. Like he weighs nothing. "Na-."

"-𝘪𝘪𝘪𝘪𝘪𝘪𝘪𝘷𝘦𝘴!" Someone hollers from somewhere nearby. Somewhere too close.

Vash perks up.

Knives panics.

"Shit, shit, shit, shit-." He goes taut - pulls Vash in close; holds him back.

As the commotion nears, he whips
around - looking - frantic; sees the patio door - their closest refuge & rips it open.

He all but 𝘴𝘵𝘶𝘧𝘧𝘴 his mother back into the house with a bunch of I'm sorry's & I love you's and-

"Wait, wait -," Vash scrabbles fruitlessly - trying to grab at him. "Nai, I just-!" He stumbles back when his son kisses his cheek while shoving him in the chest. "Na-!"

Knives slams the door shut. 𝘐'𝘮 𝘴𝘰𝘳𝘳𝘺, he mouths through the glass one last time when Vash glares up at him. 𝘐 𝘭𝘰𝘷𝘦 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘮𝘢𝘮𝘢.

Then he turns; holds the door shut - grip tightening each time Vash jerks on the handle from the opposite side.

He has a new plan.

Not a particularly good plan. Terrible plan really. But a plan all the same.

He's going to keep the savages he calls his friends out by the pool & his mother in the house. Safe.

It isn't ideal. But it is 𝘴𝘰𝘮𝘦𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨.

So, "just for a little bit." He murmurs.

𝘛𝘪𝘭𝘭 𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘧𝘳𝘪𝘦𝘯𝘥𝘴 𝘸𝘦𝘳𝘦 𝘥𝘳𝘶𝘯𝘬 𝘰𝘧𝘧 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘪𝘳 𝘢𝘴𝘴𝘦𝘴. All amnesiac & scatterbrained. Just fucked up enough to forget stuff. All the right stuff. Like his mother's pretty body & prettier face.

He tilts his head back against the door - shuts his eyes.

Lets his skull bounce with the impact of Vash's palms against the glass. Doesn't budge an inch.

"Just for a little bit," he repeats. "Just," he opens his eyes, "for now, mama." He turns as he says it. Listens - to the voices; the chaos & commotion - getting closer & closer.

And then, "morning dipshits." He speaks up when the first them pop around the corner. 𝘔𝘦𝘳𝘺𝘭.

"Morni-?" She starts.

"The pool." Knives interrupts. He points to the back of the house. "Go." He says. Now."

"Ya maybe wanna' invite us in, you neanderthal?" Wolfwood appears

above her; that sacrilegious pendant of his dangling in her face. "It's 𝘩𝘰𝘵 out here, man - we're gonna die."

"Then die." Knives sneers at him.

The door behind him rattles angrily. He clenches his teeth. Holds it down even harder.

"... What." He snaps when he sees them watching - Wolfwood & Meryl.

"𝘞𝘩𝘢𝘵." The desperation's starting to come through. And they're starting to notice.

Wolfwood grins. "... Watcha' got there, Knives?" He's looking past him - trying to. Tiptoeing

up, straining, then tilting when it doesn't work.

Meryl leans the other way. She squints, trying to peer through the gaps between his arms & legs.

But the door is a small one. A blessedly small one. Just small enough to disappear behind Knives' bulk - block out any possible

view of his pissed off mother entirely. Thank 𝘧𝘶𝘤𝘬.

"Ya got somethin' to hide?" Wolfwood steps up now, teeth gleaming sinisterly through a grin that stretches just a centimeter too wide to mean anything remotely good.

Knives scowls at it. "Fuck off, Nick." He pushes back,

pressing into the glass. Harder & harder - feels it creak precariously under his weight. "You want your damn beer or not?"

And it works like a charm. He should've led with that - with alcohol. 𝘍𝘳𝘦𝘦 alcohol.

Never let it be said his frat brothers were nothing if not

pathetically broke alcoholics. 𝘎𝘶𝘭𝘭𝘪𝘣𝘭𝘦 broke alcoholics at that. He'd be embarrassed for them if it didn't work so well as a manipulation tactic.

Vash is safe from prying eyes because of it. So Knives exhales slowly - grateful for the idiots' alcoholism as he watches

them scramble off.

They probably need help. And therapy. Lots of it.

But as it is for now, he breathes out all that panic & fear - lets his heart beat again.

His peace lasts about 30 beautiful seconds more. And then he's being touched.

Knives flinches. He glances down.

𝘈𝘩 𝘺𝘦𝘴. His singular sane, well-adjusted, non-alcoholic friend.

"What." He snarls at Meryl. "What," he slaps her hand away. "What do you want?"

"The bathroom." She doesn't even look at him as she speaks - eyes fixed dead ahead, on the door.

𝘚𝘩𝘦'𝘴 𝘴𝘦𝘦𝘯 𝘴𝘰𝘮𝘦𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨, Knives realizes. He tenses up. "Fuck off."

"I need to use the bathroom." - She isn't even trying to hide it now. "Come-," she tries reaching past him again. "On-."

Has her hand slapped down again. So she tries again. And fails again.

And they keep going at it like that - like a pair of petulant children - until Meryl finally slams the tip of her boot into Knives' shin.

"I 𝘴𝘢𝘪𝘥." She snaps - grabbing the door handle when Knives yelps & trips off to the side. "I need to-," she bangs open the door. "𝘎𝘰!"

"Oof-!"

A thud.

It's that clumsiness again. That adorable klutz thing Vash has going on. The part of him Knives can't bring himself to hate.

It has him on the floor now - all long, tangled legs. Delicate, little ankles. And conveniently spread thighs.

"... Nai?" His voice is

sweet. And soft. He lifts an arm- Knives' sweater sliding even further off his bare shoulder as he moves to shield himself from the sun. "What happ-?" He blinks against the light. Peers.

And then he's looking up at them - eyes big & blue, blue, blue; glossy pink lips parted 2

exact sensual centimeters apart; cheeks soft pink with exertion.

He shifts; legs moving, hips twisting. He's just trying to slide back - get away from the blinding ray of sunshine he's found himself in. But even that has Knives' gut twisting.

It's like the world comes together

to do this. To place Vash in these circumstances - inherently erotic & the like. He need only exist. And everything around him - reality itself - will distort to sexualize him.

Knives sometimes wonders if he ever had a chance. 𝘞𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘸𝘢𝘴 𝘎𝘰𝘥 𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘬𝘪𝘯𝘨

𝘤𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘵𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘴𝘰𝘮𝘦𝘰𝘯𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘧𝘶𝘤𝘬𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘧𝘪𝘯𝘦?

𝘖𝘧 𝘤𝘰𝘶𝘳𝘴𝘦 he wanted to fuck his mother. This whole entire thing is giving straight 𝘱𝘰𝘳𝘯. Everything Vash does is straight porn. People could make a reality show of him just doing basic ass

𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨𝘴 & it'd still probably be straight porn. His mother is so sexy it's 𝘴𝘵𝘶𝘱𝘪𝘥.

And he's fucking oblivious about it all. The cherry on top.

Even now, he sits up - excited; unaware of everything. He smiles up at Meryl like an absolute darling - a literal puppy.

TBC