Work Text:
Knives:
Once upon a time, there lived a boy. Although, boy wasn’t quite the word to describe him. He was a plant. A discovery. An experiment .
He was the antagonist of this story, a supposed villain that was meant to settle the score between good and evil.
He never wanted the role in the first place.
As a child, he was curious about the world around him, always wanting to learn more and more. His twin was more reserved in his approach, but he too could not ignore the urge to quench his thirst for knowledge. In some regards, they were like the sun and the moon, fates forever intertwined at the core. Rem had gladly extended her arms, teaching them about the most intricate beauties of the life around them.
Where had things gone so wrong ?
When Steve first came into their lives, he said nothing.
That had been his first mistake.
He couldn’t bear the way that… that bastard laid his hands on Vash. So in his best interests, Knives bore the brunt of the pain, his blood simmering as the abuse continued.
Tesla was the final straw.
From there on, everything became a blur of events. Rem died in that crash, and for a moment he felt sorrow. Then anger. Then hatred.
He laughed and he laughed as the world burned around him, stuck in a crazed stupor as silent tears trickled down his face. His twin would stare in blank shock at the wreckage around them, silently grieving for a home that could have been.
Their bond fractured that day, nearly torn apart at the seam, but the two twins continued to clutch at the last fraying threads, desperate to find comfort in a place that was the furthest from ever becoming the safe confines that Rem once provided with her warmth.
And so, the twins traveled the world together, hearts aching for different reasons.
He couldn’t slowly help but despise humanity with their twisted, corrupted ways of life. The way they spewed poison in all directions, suffocating anyone within their reach.
And it was his duty to eradicate them.
Time went on, and their schism became greater by the day. There was only so much the two could handle before they separated, one parting with a deep burning vengeance while the other left with uncertainty. They would meet once more on the battlefield 150 years later, the sun and moon clashing in a battle of night and day.
And in the end, only despair remained.
Legato
Once upon a time, there lived a boy. His eyes were of the dullest jade, cynical gaze sweeping through the barren remains of a land that was supposed to be home.
Humanity was twisted in its own ways. The idea of a childhood dream was almost laughable to him. How could one fall the expectation of a childhood dream when all opportunities of one had been shattered too far early?
So day by day, night by night, the boy would suffer in silence, reduced to a mere husk as those filthy animals continued to take and take and take…
Until salvation came in the form of a fallen angel, a Judas who had taken it upon himself to cleanse the world.
To this day, he couldn’t help but wonder if he was better off dead. That Knives should have ended him right there and then, for he had no true reason to remain alive.
His heart however, at least what was left of it, demanded retribution. A burning fury that could never be quelled.
Knives showed him a way, a way that could exterminate the poison. And he believed in his cause, gave himself to Judas because however else could he be useful if he did not provide his full capabilities.
After all, he was to forever remain as a pawn in the grander scheme of things. His life was never his to begin with.
Livio:
Once upon a time, there lived a boy. He had always been considered the cry-baby of the group, cowering away into the shadowed corners of the orphanage.
The result, my dear reader, were overwhelming clouds of dull gray that threatened to consume him. Alone and afraid, little Livio did not think he would make it past the age of 7.
And then came light. In the form of an extended hand, Nicholas D. Wolfwood had been the one to pull him out of his slump.
The year they spent together was the happiest he had ever been in his life, the world around him exploding into a kaleidoscope of colors. And in the center of it all was his big brother.
Nico-nii.
Like Icarus, he became too blinded by the light to notice the tendrils of darkness that began to creep in his vision. It first started with a voice, a voice that would tickle the back of his mind unconsciously. He was more confident, more forthcoming. Less crybaby.
No one wants a crybaby Livio.
Everything changed the day he saved Jasmine. The kaleidoscope shifted once more, replaced by turbulent grays and reds. A flurry of images pass by. Jasmine. The dog. Blood. So much blood, trickling down and it wouldn't stop. Just red red red-
Why wasn’t anyone listening?
It became too much, and like the utter coward he was, he ran and ran and ran until he was far, far away where nobody would find him.
Where Nico couldn’t find him. He couldn’t disappoint his big brother any further.
Razlo. That was the voice’s name.
The world would never accept him, that was a given. Livio.
Livio.
Razlo.
That was years ago. Now, they both fought tooth and nail against Elendira, desperate to protect his home because he wasn’t leaving them all behind again. He wasn’t going to leave Nico again.
He would die trying if it were to protect the orphanage.
Wolfwood:
Once upon a time, there lived a boy. From a young age, he had been quick to understand that life was not fair. The word 'love' had been twisted out of his grasp, torn to shreds when his father first started drinking. Desperate to clutch at the falling remains of his childhood, he ran away, wandering the streets with no proper goal in mind. As he scrounged around the garbage for leftover scraps of food, his heart continued to bleed, aching for a nonexistent feeling. Then the bleeding stopped, and all that was left was a stone exterior, jagged cracks spreading in littenberg patterns.
He never expected to find 'love', least of all in the form of the dilapidated orphanage that was located on the outskirts of town.
Life at the orphanage was tough, that was to be a given. For some godforsaken reason, the caretakers decided that he was best suited for the many responsibilities around the place. Caring for the children, helping Ms. Melanie with the cooking, this and that and whatever. It was a never ending set of tasks, running up and down ragged to help keep the orphanage running. He was just doing what needed to be done. Or so he told himself.
So what if he spent a little more extra care when hushing the children from their night terrors? So what if he had woken up early to aid in the kitchen so that Ms. Melanie wouldn’t strain her back more than necessary? So what if he would take little odd jobs to scrounge up some money to buy sweets for the kids? So what if he would use his pocket knife, which he had lawfully obtained (who was he kidding, he was a thief to the core), to carve little trinkets for the rest of the caretakers when they were having bad days?
Somewhere along the way, ‘family’ scuttled its place within those jagged cracks.
So this is ‘love’ then.
In some ways, it was a bandage. A bandage that made him feel so much warmth. A bandage that softened the stone just a bit. Deep down, he knew that he would do anything for them.
Things took a turning point when Crybaby Livio arrived at the orphanage. At first glance, he didn’t seem like much. But beneath that shy exterior was a tiny pin-prickle of light, and he couldn’t help but take the boy under his wing. Maybe under his care, Livio would start to see the world in something more than those dull grays.
For sometime, he did. The two became the best of friends.
Brothers.
As life taught him repeatedly however, good times never last forever. Livio’s disappearance made his heart crack once more, cutting a deep crevice that wouldn’t heal for years.
He just wanted his brother back.
Then came the Eye of Micheal and the rest was history. Between all the experiments and the training and the missions and the blood (gods why was there so much blood) , the stone hardened, and he vowed to never love again. He would fight through the pain for the orphanage, and only for the orphanage. That was it.
The world took too much from him for him to spare room for anything else.
I want to go home- please just let me go home .
He didn’t expect for the spikey-haired idiot and the two insurance girls to quite-literally crashland into his life. He doesn’t think that he ever would or could admit this to them, but they made his life feel less lonely. It had been awhile since he had people he could call friends.
And Vash. Gods, Vash.
A sinner like him wasn’t deserving of the light the angel decided to shine his way. He was like a moth drawn to the angel’s flame, basking in the bright warmth his companion emanated despite the consequences that lingered ahead.
He knows that he doesn’t have much time left; his life operates on the constant tick of the clock, threatening to stop at any given moment.
The girls.
Vash.
Livio.
The orphanage.
He got too soft and was now going to pay the price.
.
Two heart beats. One in desperate prayer, the other filled with poisoned lead.
The bells started tolling, ash falling from the sky in silent mourning.
Only one heartbeat remained.
.
Milly:
Once upon a time, there lived a girl. She led a rather simple life before joining the insurance company, raised within the pastures of a dying farm. Given her situation, she could not help but think that she was one of the luckier ones. Food was not easy to obtain on Gunsmoke, making every single morsel that her family brought home every night an object of extreme care.
Everyday was the same rinse and repeat. Fetch the water. Buy the animal feed. Scatter the grains for the chickens. Bathe the cows.
There would be days where the cycle would be broken and the livestock buried. And then new livestock would have to be obtained, but even that had been getting more difficult by the day.
As a child, she had always been the most emotionally sensitive one, a true empath at heart. Those days when they buried their dead often left her shaking in her heels. She didn’t understand why this world was so cruel, creating endless misery for creatures and humans that merely wanted to survive.
Fast forward years later, and she’s with the Bernardelli Insurance Company. It wasn’t quite what she had in mind for her future, but at this point any money she could bring in to help sustain her family would be worth the sacrifice.
Some of her coworkers were just so mean. It astounds her to this day how people could be so ignorant of others around them.
But then there was Meryl. Short-tempered, sweet, independent, savvy, compassionate Meryl. Milly doesn’t regret becoming her partner, and she sure hopes that Meryl doesn't either. The two settle into their own dynamic, pushing and pulling together in harmony like tidal waves. It goes well for years.
Things became more interesting when a certain Mr. Humanoid Typhoon got on their radar for various cases of property damage. Town after town, the dynamic duo would follow after him, chastising him for making their blood pressure rise from the chaos that naturally seemed to occur around him.
The addition of Mr. Priest made Meryl’s gasket blow, shenanigan after shenanigan piling on top of them in heaps and heaps of paperwork. Despite the mayhem of it all, there was a feeling of warmth through it all. They didn’t feel just like acquaintances anymore. They were friends.
They were family.
Years later, she watches Vash in his midnight-covered hair chase after the wisps of a dead man. She wishes that the world wasn’t so cruel.
Meryl:
Once upon a time, there lived a girl. Unlike most, she had been one of the more privileged occupants on her planet, growing up in the sheltered buildings of the city. However, not everything went her way.
To this day, she remembers her grandfather’s dying words clearly, huddled close to him on the hospital bed as the machine's beeps slowly died down.
Wield love wisely, dear child, for it is the sharpest yet purest substance that can exist.
The only thing left from him in her possession was his beloved mixtape. As she hugged the mixtape tightly to her chest, the clouds cried. It had been her first time seeing rain, the droplets pattering hard against the worn window before streaming down rapidly akin to tears.
Fast forward years later, and she’s with the Bernardelli Insurance Company. It wasn’t quite what she had in mind for her future, but at this point she was willing to do anything to fill the void that her grandfather had once occupied in her heart.
She didn’t mean to sound narcissistic, but most of her coworkers were just plain idiots. A useless, unorganized, ignorant, incompetent group of individuals who had no motivation to get any work done and were oblivious to the struggles of the world around them.
But then there was Milly. Kind, empathetic, sweet, intelligent, steadfast Milly. Meryl doesn’t regret becoming her partner, and she sure hopes that Milly doesn't either. The two settle into their own dynamic, pushing and pulling together in harmony like tidal waves. It goes well for years.
Things became more interesting when a certain Idiot Typhoon got on their radar for various cases of property damage (of all things) . Town after town, they would follow after him like headless chickens, looped into whatever nonsense the buffoon incited for the day, constantly having to chastise him for making their blood pressure rise.
The addition of the Priest made her gasket blow, shenanigan after shenanigan piling on top of them in heaps and heaps of paperwork.
And the ungodly amount of stress she had gained from them. Thank heavens for Milly. She takes that back. She doesn’t want Milly or Wolfwood touching their mixtape ever again.
Despite the mayhem of it all, there was a feeling of warmth through it all. There was a building of mutual trust, and soon enough, she witnessed layers of the men that she never thought existed. She couldn’t but soften when she saw the easy way Wolfwood would interact around children, the rugged priest suddenly transforming into something more akin to a big brother. She couldn’t help but soften when she saw the way Vash would lose himself to memories some days, the normally confident gunman transforming into something more akin to a drowning mess (Wolfwood was right. His smile was so horribly fake sometimes).
They didn’t feel just like acquaintances anymore. They were friends.
They were family.
She would never admit this out loud, but there had been a switch. A switch from duty to loyalty. At some point, she stopped following the Typhoon out of obligation and started chasing after him because she cared.
She cared about the three of them so much that her heart broke when they had finally made it through the end game.
Vash:
Once upon a time, there lived a boy. Although, boy wasn’t quite the word to describe him. He was a plant. A discovery. An experiment .
He was the protagonist of this story, a supposed hero that was meant to settle the score between good and evil.
He never wanted the role in the first place.
His twin was curious about the world around him, always wanting to learn more and more. He, however, was more reserved in his approach, but he too could not ignore the urge to quench his thirst for knowledge. In some regards, they were like the sun and the moon, fates forever intertwined at the core. Rem had been glad to extend her arms, teaching them about the most intricate beauties of the life around them.
Where had things gone so wrong ?
When Steve had first come into their lives, he had said nothing.
That had been his first mistake.
He had just stood there and taken the pain… just letting him hurt and hurt and hurt. Until one day, the hurt stopped and the quiet returned. He should've known from the bruises his brother would sport that something was amiss. And gods he wished he had been able to protect Knives the way he had always protected Vash.
Tesla had been the final straw.
From there on, everything became a blur of events. Rem died in that crash, and for a moment he had felt sorrow. Then anger. Then hatred. A burning, poisonous hatred for his brother.
Why…why did Knives…?
He watched his brother laugh and laugh as the world burned around them, stuck in a dazed stupor as silent tears trickled down his face. Observing the wreckage around them, he couldn't help but wonder if Knives felt the same pain he did, the loss of sanctuary. In the long term, he supposed that didn't matter. They were both scarred deeply in different ways, and the consequences of their wounds would be too much for this planet to handle. As the flames died away, so did his anger, and there within the ashes remained longing. A bitter, cold longing for his family: Rem and Knives.
Their bond had fractured that day, nearly torn apart at the seam, but the two twins continued to clutch at the last fraying threads, desperate to find comfort in a place that was the furthest from ever becoming the safe confines that Rem had once provided with her warmth.
And so, the twins traveled the world together, hearts aching for different reasons.
He couldn’t help but observe the peculiar juxtaposition that was humanity, tiny specks of hope that would peak from the everlasting storm clouds. The way they shed blood, sweat, and tears to protect their kin, filled with love that was hidden by layers and layers of sand that had drowned the entirety of Gunsmoke.
And it was his duty to ensure that they survived.
Time went on, and their schism became greater by the day. There was only so much the two could handle before they separated, one parting with a deep burning vengeance while the other left with uncertainty. They would meet once more on the battlefield 150 years later, the sun and moon clashing in a battle of night and day.
And in the end, only despair remained.