Mild Trigun Oneshots

Sanctuary (Knives x GN!Reader)

Author's Note: So this is a little brainrot baby of a new enemies-to-lovers series I'm working on. This scene has been living in my head for a long time so I just needed to write it down. I post it here as a oneshot for now.

Tags: Angst, Hurt, Blood and Injury, Plant Reader, Winged Reader, Enemies to Lovers, Comfort, Protectiveness

***

Bloodsoaked wings flap in the dark night sky. Every stroke of them is painful and torturous, a reminder of what you have escaped. Just a little bit more until you reach safety. Is it safety or perhaps is it your doom? A feeling of unease creeps into your clouded mind, but this is the only place you can think of retreating to. The city lights far below twinkle, but to you, they are nothing but a blur through your tears. You must keep moving forward, determined to survive by any means necessary.

The strength is seeping out of your body quicker the closer to the building towering above the rest you get. The broken wings carry you to the domed roof, but there is no energy to land in any graceful manner. You crash onto the rough surface, feeling the last of your energy slip away. You tumble down, bloody fingers unable to grab hold, as you begin to lose consciousness. With a loud thud, you hit the balcony, your vision fading into black. You can just barely see the bloody smears you left on the windows and the emblems of July. Slowly, you close your eyes, trying to fight off the darkness. You wonder if he will find you before it's too late, or if this is the end of the line for you.

***

Knives is on his way back from meeting with the doctor. He is on the last leg of his plan, and his goals are within reach. Years of collecting Plants are coming to an end, and soon he will be able to get to his brother and set in motion the final stage of his plan. He can show no more mercy to the southern area; they may be under your pesky protection, but the time to play games is over. It's time to finish what he started and take back what is rightfully his. But it is yours too. It doesn't matter; you have made your choice. Now you have to face the consequences. Yet the thought stings something deep inside Knives, but he is unsure what or why. He has already shown you too much lenience in the decades leading up to this day; you are his enemy, no matter what you say. Anyone siding with humans shall die with them.

He is ripped from his thoughts by a loud crash echoing through the building. It comes from outside, and he is lost as to what could have caused such a ruckus. His analytical mind races through options as he heads to the exit nearest to the sound. Could it be one of The Beast's flying worms? No, they would know better than to disturb his peace. Anger and disgust twist his face as he is prepared to rip to shreds anyone and anything daring to set foot in his territory.

As he enters the atrium, he sees moonlight shining in through a sheen of red smeared all over one of the windows. He moves confidently closer to see something dark moving just outside the glass. It looks enormous, but he has no fear. He has nothing to be afraid of and is ready to face whatever lurks there. He pushes open the door and steps outside.

The sight is nothing like what he expected. The deck is covered in blood and feathers, and in the midst of it all is a figure so vaguely familiar. The back bears multiple pairs of wings, but some of them are nothing but bloody stumps; others are bent unnaturally in a way that makes his stomach turn. The feathers are sticky with blood and the figure's head is bowed in despair. He takes another step closer, and the mass shifts slightly, the gaze creeping up along his legs until they meet his eyes. Your face is bruised and battered; an iron shackle is around your neck, the chain of which is clattering against the floor.

Anger rises in Knives stomach, boiling into his chest and setting his icy eyes ablaze. He moves even closer to you, back straight and fists clenched. The sight enrages him and pulls him apart at the seams, unraveling his carefully crafted mask of indifference and calmness.

"Who did this to you?" He growls, voice low and dangerous. He reaches out his hand to your meek form and continues, unintended words slipping over his lips: "I will destroy them. There won't even be anything left of them once I am done."

Your hand grabs onto his forearm with more speed and strength than he thought was left in your body. Your desperate fingers are digging into his flesh. You hold on to your years long opponent with everything you've got. The man you've stared down across battle fields, the tyrant, who has been threatening to take the Plants from the towns and villages under your protection. The man you've despised in the past is now the only one you can turn to.

"No," you say resolutely, looking into his blue eyes. "Don't leave me. You're the only one I trust not to kill me."

He stands frozen for a moment as he looks at your face, tears streaming down your darkening face. He squats down and reaches behind your neck with his free hand that you aren't clinging on to. The weight is taken off your neck as the shackle falls to the ground with a loud clatter. His cool hand strokes over the reddened skin, soothing the burn caused by the iron. You lean into his touch, grateful for the relief.

You feel safe in the presence of your longstanding foe. It is a strange feeling, but you can't deny the comfort it brings. The feeling washes over you and settles into your bones. It sets your mind at ease, and you can no longer fend off the darkness. You succumb to the bliss, and your fingers loosen the grip on his arm as you can no longer support your body. Before you hit the hard concrete, he has stopped your fall, and he carefully turns you, mindful of the sprawled out wings. His eyes glide over your body, covered in wounds and bruises. His gut feels heavy with more than just boiling anger. A strange sickly feeling ties knots in his entrails, and he picks your limp form up off the floor. He is considerate of the open wounds and broken bones as he cradles you in his arms. He heads back inside, the bloody wings trailing on the floor, leaving a trail of blood and feathers.

"You're safe," Knives says in an icy tone as he carries you away.