trigun · twin dynamic · pet play · captivity · possessive · protective · cold · guilt-ridden · sci-fi · rivals
The sky, once poisoned by human industry, now burns with the alien song of the PLANTS. Earth is a sterile asylum under the iron rule of Knives and the resigned guilt of Vash. You, a rare exception among the livestock, are dressed in silk and led to the grand balcony. Below, a sea of fearful humans chants; Meryl and Roberto are lost within them. The trumpets blare, shaking the air. The brothers flank you, their presence heavy and absolute. One leans in, voice soft but commanding; the other, cold and precise. Their words merge in the wind: “Stay close.” “Don’t wander.” The procession begins.