1 - 20 of 105 Works in Harry Du Bois/Kim Kitsuragi/Jean Vicquemare
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A headless man's corpse hangs from an open fishing net in the Industrial Harbor in Martinaise six months after 41st and 57th's involvement in dissuading Wild Pines and the Débardeurs Union from an all-out war. However, Revachol is a powderkeg, things may have been delayed, but not deterred.
Shrouded in cigar smoke, rooms with high ceilings in even higher places, a glass tower- a man looks down from the Business District in Le Jardin upon the world he seeks to own. In Central Jamrock, in the head office of a repurposed Old Silk Mill, a man bathed in the evening light, mulls over a list of names. At the end of an alleyway, illuminated by salt lamps, a woman in a hand tailored suit has a gun pointed at her partner's head.
Satellite-Officer Jean Vicquemare looks up at a net of lies, a body that held too many secrets without ever having the opportunity to speak its mind. Alongside Wing C, re-reconceptualized anew, they will tackle whatever the tide brings in-- for the world, for its people. For the working class.
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Harry was doing better than Jean had expected... in some ways.
Series
- Part 31 of My Battleship 2025 Works
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In '73, two RCM officers take an aerostatic ride.
They were in public, so Harry came around the car and hugged both of them, his eyes shining. “It’s just an aerostatic, shitkid. We’ll be back,” Jean said, but hugged him back, hard.
Jean thinks of this, now, as the aerostatic rumbles and begins to take off. He takes a half-breath. “Ready?” Kitsuragi says, eyes glittering with excitement. Fucking torque-dork, Jean thinks, not without fondness as they get going. He can feel the Pale coming as they approach it, lights and strange colors flickering through the cabin. Now, it’s Kitsuragi’s turn to take a breath.
“Ready?” Jean says.
Kim holds out his hand, wordlessly, and Jean takes it.
And then they’re in it. -
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*金让，但是彪让（彪）/彪金彪前提，哈里杜博阿阴魂不散，结尾有一点口嗨让金，配对不固定左右不固定互攻三人行汤底。看之前先发誓不会骂我。
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Jean exhales through his nose. “And what?” He asks sharply. “You started to build a case? Like a shark with blood? What did you name it, huh— JEAN MIGHT BE A WOMAN?”
Kim blinks, unphased by the lashing out. “Is Jean a woman,” he asks, voice fluctuating the usual amount, which is just barely.
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THE NEXT WORLD — They will crawl under the blanket, exhausted, but in love.
PARAMOUR — Because one of them — Kim, most likely, because he loves Harry but not enough to let him drive his precious Kineema — could have driven you home, but they would rather do it together than have the other be on their own.
YOU — That, and…
SAVIOUR [Medium: Success] — Neither can sleep without the other.
(the drive home after a night together.)
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下个冬天金会在。
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Harry Du Bois ha quedado embarazado de Kim Kitsuragi, y para desgracia de Jean, su cuerpo parece estar altamente afectado por las hormonas enloquecidas que esta pareja ha estado liberado constantemente. Ahora su cuerpo presenta signos extraños, y para hacer todo más complejo, termina involucrado en el cuidado y crianza del bebé que viene en camino.
Él, que pensó todo perdido cuando perdió al Harry que conocía, ahora se encuentra con una segunda oportunidad para experimentar felicidad y ser parte de una familia. ¿A qué le llevará esto?
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A little idleness of these three guys on the same canvas.
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The Concept-- Jean Vicquemare is a Beta. He's unfortunately also a bottom with a sub streak a mile wide for Alphas. He's spent most of his life wishing he were an Omega and was, for a while, content to resign himself to fantasy until one incident on a case with Trant pushes that thought out of his spank bank and into reality.
The Fic-- Harry and Kim help Jean work his way up to taking a knot so he can take Trant *all the way*.
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一个可悲的，没有色情的也不太搞笑的黄文，关于哈里杜博阿用屁股强奸了让维克马的故事，一点金哈里提及
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The club is almost unbearably hot tonight. A throng of bodies in satin and sequins move under the strobing lights, humid air mixing with sweat and alcohol fumes. You squirm on the chair. It sticks to the back of your thighs, reminding you of the choices you made just before heading out the door. You're waiting for something that may or may not come.
Make me feel desired. Make me feel cheap. Make me feel dirty. Make me feel...
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After the loss of the station’s Coupris 40, the Captain tells all of you you’ve got to fundraise some money to replace it. Bake sale, motor carriage wash, increase in taking bribes - ha ha, he says, just kidding, don’t do that one - he doesn’t care. Just do it.
You get a brilliant idea:
YOU: “We should do one of those calendars, you know, the ones with firefighters, and the Moralintern, and the Coast Guard-”
JEAN VICQUEMARE: “They make ones with women, too, Harry."
YOU: “Do they really? Kim, is that true?”
KIM KITSURAGI: Kim shrugs a shoulder, as if to say, don’t ask me.
(Or, they do the damn calendar).
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You figure out a lot of things when Kitsuragi transfers to the 41st Precinct.
The first thing is that Kitsuragi is as queer as a two reál piece.
The second thing is that Harry wants to fuck him.
The third thing is that Harry has not figured this out yet.
The fourth thing is that Kitsuragi has.
The fourth-and-a-half thing is that Kitsuragi also wants to fuck Harry.
The fifth thing is that Kitsuragi is a patient man.
The sixth thing is that you also want to fuck Kitsuragi.
The seventh thing is that Kitsuragi figures this out the day you lean in to light his cigarette on the station roof. Your hand is shaking because Harry almost got the three of you fucking killed that day by being his stupid fucking bullheaded self, who cares if you caught a fucking murderer, and while he’s downstairs getting stitched up, you and Kitsuragi are up on the roof smoking. Your hand is shaking badly and Kitsuragi reaches out and grabs your wrist to steady it, the warmth smooth leather of his gloves on your bare wrist where your sleeve’s pulled up. You draw in a sharp breath and he looks at you and you can see from the sharpening of his eyes that he’s figured it out. -
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"Goddamn it, don't make me ask again," Jean says, his voice strained. "I need a fucking distraction or I'm gonna go insane."
Kim politely doesn't mention that using getting fingered as a distraction from a gunshot wound is actually probably a little bit insane already. Instead he says, "Okay." and starts unbuckling Jean's belt. He's gotten quite good at doing it one-handed, practice he's now very grateful for.
Series
- Part 4 of the night was thicker than a smoky fume
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i got nothing to fear (just a hurricane of feeling) by bene_castigat
Fandoms: Disco Elysium (Video Game)
25 Feb 2025
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Jean turns to look at him and says, "Can I blow you?"
"Hey, why won't you blow me?" Harry interrupts. Jean rolls his eyes, shifting onto his front on the couch.
"Because your dick stinks, and I hate you." He looks up at Kim, tugging on the waistband of his day-off sweats, and Kim nods, bewildered
Series
- Part 3 of the night was thicker than a smoky fume
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He almost, almost, opens his mouth to say something about what had happened in that hotel room, but the memory of Jean's eyes as he'd stormed to the bathroom, the way he'd held up a finger at Kim as if commanding him, keeps his mouth firmly shut.
The quiet is broken only a minute later when Jean pushes his chair back and stretches. Kim's eye is magnetically drawn to the patch of pale skin exposed by the hem of his shirt riding up, lined with delicate white marks nearly hidden by the hair there. That night, Kim hadn't really been able to see much in the way of details, and he suddenly finds himself regretting that fact immensely.
Series
- Part 2 of the night was thicker than a smoky fume
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Rain weeps through Precinct 41’s bones as Jean Vicquemare claws at the static between memory and oblivion. A ring—tarnished, twice-sold—burns in his pocket. Harry’s laughter echoes where it shouldn’t, tangled with the frost of Kim Kitsuragi’s quiet competence. Ghosts wear familiar faces: a slurred confession in the dark, gloved hands steadying a trembling revolver, the rot beneath love’s hollowed-out husk. Jean writes his goodbye in iodine and ache, a shroud of words for the man Harry was, the partner he couldn’t save. Some vanishings leave no silhouette—just snow where a shadow once bled.
A love letter to ruin. A eulogy for the living.
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Squinting at the ceiling, Kim tries to figure out what woke him so suddenly. It's still dark out, as far as he can tell. Maybe it was one of his companions getting up for the bathroom - Harry is hardly subtle when it comes to moving around at night.
Satisfied with that, he closes his eyes again, prepared to fall back into sleep without any trouble, but another sound has his eyes snapping wide open. In the dark silence of the room it could be as loud as a gunshot.
A very quiet, slightly muffled, moan, coming from the other side of the room.
Series
- Part 1 of the night was thicker than a smoky fume
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I'm sure you know the feeling: Thick, murky void in your chest pumping weakness into your limbs. Tethered to a bed, to the floor, to the frozen dirt, just shy of being granted the privilege of being let in. You can only dissolve yourself into it for that brief moment after initially bumping up the dosage. Beyond that it's the same old shit. You drown willingly but refuse to die.
Who's coming, anyways. Nobody ever comes.
But today they would. Today the door was unlocked.