Important things that Vash embodies to me
When you love people, you want them to love you back - but even if they don’t, you keep loving them.
There is always forgiveness.
No mistake is so terrible that it cannot be moved beyond.
Everybody dies, but that does not make your life meaningless.
It is important to stand up for those who cannot stand up for themselves.
Mature and balanced doesn’t mean serious. Silliness and joy are extremely important.
Even if people misunderstand you, that doesn’t change who you really are.
Sometimes you have to do everything you can, even when you’re sure you won’t win, because it’s the right thing to do.
Every person is important.
Love and peace!
I’d like to add:
Stand by what you believe to be right, even when others tell you that you’re being stupid or naive.
You can be a good influence in the lives of others, not necessarily by preaching, but simply by being good yourself.
Sometimes the people who matter most to you might hold different beliefs, might disappoint you, or might even hurt you. Keep loving them anyway.
Both Vash and Wolfwood: Being a hero isn’t dependent on the fame and recognition you receive. It’s about giving selflessly for the sake of others.
Meryl (manga): You don’t have to be fearless. You just need to be strong enough to keep going despite the fear.
Growth (a Trigun drabble)
Wolfwood’s eyes were hidden behind the darkness of his sunglasses, the suns’ harsh light not piercing their opaque surfaces. Months had passed. Months where Spikey’d been missing, gone, not just out wandering but absent. Things were changing.
Wol could feel it in his body too. Changes were happening… His senses, attuned to tiny differences, were telling him that he was altering, growing. Getting taller. He and Spikey would be nearly eye to eye if they met now, he thought - black to gold, gray to blue. His finger came up, pushed his glasses up higher, but they couldn’t hide the alterations in him. He sighed.
He felt every second, every tick of the clock. Things were changing, he was aging - his growth sped him to his death, far faster than those around him, and he constantly felt the pressure of it. Time. Time. Time. Make the most of the time. Would he ever reach his apogee, and begin the passage back down - live through old age to a stoop, to bend well before all his peers, and at last to die quietly?
Wolfwood straightened, looking out. His vials sat in their pouch, ready and waiting. It’s time. Here I come, Spikey. Get ready to look me in the eye.