Promises
He should know better.
Wolfwood has seen Vash make promises, or hear about the ones he has made in the past. He has also seen the end of each one and how every single time the outcome is less than what was promised.
Vash likes to say embellished words, with a soft and determined voice that lures you into his hopes and dreams, it almost feels like a spell, as if he was calling for you to come closer and believe him. But Wolfwood knows better.
He believes in him, but Vash is much closer to being an idealistic dreamer than a realistic person like he is. He might not be aware of it, but his beautiful promises of a better future give people hope, a hope that is usually embraced with things like disappointment and abandonment.
He doesn’t think that Vash does it with the intent of looking for any of those things. Far from it, he might even do the impossible in order to accomplish said promises, but life is too short and humans are too mortal for his wishes, so in the end, most of Vash’s promises end up being empty or they come to haunt him as a reminder of his failed vows. He admires the man, for his perseverance and idealism, but he also hates the man, for his stubbornness and lies.
Wolfwood knows all of this perfectly to a tee. And yet, he has also found himself being drawn to his world. Because he also dreams of it.
A world in where his always present calls for love and peace exist, a world that is far more kind than what he might deserve, a world in where the kids can be happy and roam around without any worry in their heads, a world in where he can peacefully turn grey with age and his hands can shed the harsh callouses of his life. Who knows, maybe a world in where he and Vash can finally know the peace that was taken away from them, in where they can share the calmness that comes with the passage of time, indulging in every tick of the clock welcoming with open arms whatever comes their way without any fear.
It is a beautiful promise. But Wolfwood is a person that has to keep his feet on the ground, indulging in “what ifs” would only make things harder than what they had to be. He can’t have any ifs if he can’t make it through the now. And by the way he is carrying his present, he is doubtful he will even get to see a shed of that promised world that Vash tries to drag him into. So why mourn something he doesn’t even have, or will ever have for that matter.
He hates the way Vash seems to promise things so easily. His tongue silky and pliant, slipping divine words one after the other, promises way too big for what that barren world can actually fit.
But when Vash talks to him in that holy voice of his, when he hears him say “It’s okay, everything will be alright, I promise” so gently right on his ear, while he holds his face so tenderly making him focus on him and nothing else, he wants to believe him.
He has seen the end of his promises. He knows how impossible they are. But for once, he wants to believe it too. Believe in that loving world that will cradle them both until they fall asleep, listening to the soft sound of the wind laughing while the moons smile upon them.
So he allows himself to indulge in the warmth of his palms, leaning into the comfort of his existence, feeling the soft air of Vash’s breaths against his skin while their foreheads meet in a touch that feels like a hot brand that will melt him.
For an instant, he allows himself to be selfish and believe that maybe, that is how living in that world Vash so desperately fights for would be. Soft and warm, making him feel safe in the hollow of Vash’s hands where the world seems to fit so well. A world where the blue sky is a blanket that covers the love and care that is nestled in it like the one in Vash’s eyes. He wants to see that world.
For now, he will selfishly think that the world that fits in Vash’s hands is right there in where he is holding him, where his blue eyes are drowning in the light of the sunset dripping with love and care while looking at him, that the gentle touch of Vash’s thumb wiping his tears is the same as the kiss of that laughing wind in that distant future, where the smile of his eyes overcomes the smile of the moons.
He should know better. But he loves the thought of that world. And he hopes that Vash will get to see that world, because that gentle sight is more fitting for someone like him than the one of his violent world.
He promises to himself that he will do what it takes for that day to be possible. Even if the end of that promise will be empty for Nicholas, he knows it will be a full one for Vash. So it really isn’t that empty for him after all.
He hates his lies, and he hates how true they sound, but Vash’s embellished words are far sweeter than his bitter thoughts so they feel better on his insides, almost like a balm that cares for the wounds of his throbbing, painful reality.
He should know better.
But aren’t humans weak at the promise of love?
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Quirkless college AU where Keigo is your annoying teachers assistant for one of your majors classes. He never seems to give you that A you deserve, and is hellbent on going back and forth with you about every little thing. About every little grade, every little answer you submit, every little note he likes to leave on the corners of your papers. He mocks your handwriting with his own chicken scratch, even writes a ‘wtf are you trying to say???? is that supposed to say RHETORIC?????’ on one of your papers.
You wanna complain about him to your professor when it comes to his attitude and nitpicking, but the prof always just tells you to take it up with the TA yourself. And that’s exactly what the golden haired man wants, and it’s so painstakingly obvious with the way he absolutely grins when you drag your feet into his ‘office hours’ (aka him sitting in the library for the same amount of time every week).
“I was wondering when you’d ask me to round your grade up.” Keigo doesn’t even greet you, just leans back in his chair as he folds his arms over his chest. His smile grows even wider when you narrow your eyes and huff at him, snatching the chair out from across him to plop down heavily.
“Give me the grade I deserve, and not the grade that drags me here to be with you.” You’re all snaps and irritation, and Keigo loves it—eats up the way your bottom lip juts and your brows furrow down and, oh, you’re so goddamn cute when you’re annoyed.
“Go on a date with me this weekend, and I’ll change it.” Keigo blurts out with a lilt of his lips, eyes squinting when you reel back with a scoff. You stare at him for a while before answering, and he can’t help but notice how shifty your hands have gotten and how it grows harder to look him in the eye now.
“I feel like that goes against policy.” You mutter, picking at your nails before glaring through your lashes. Keigo cocks his head to the side, smiling.
“Don’t tell me you’re a goody two shoes.” He teases, tilts his head in your direction, watches the gears turning in your head as you narrow your eyes at him.
“Fine. One date, and you give me extra credit on the last paper.” You bargain with him, glaring at his hand when he holds it out for you to shake. You pause before you take it, frowning when Keigo grins wider and leans across the table.
“Looks like you’ve got yourself a deal there, birdie.”
And after that, it becomes routine for you both. Keigo enters the most foul grade he can until you show up at his dorm room furious and seething, all so he can pull you in to his space and kiss your puffy cheeks while you enter your own grade in the system. He’s a bit of a jackass, but you think it’s all worth it, especially when he shows you the expansive winged tattoo on his back and the quickest and most efficient way to do eyeliner. He’s good for something, you guess.
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