#i feel like im letting time pass by and im not doing anything worthwhile or productive
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sorry to be morbid again but do you think we can manifest passing away early? im honestly past the point of wanting to exist and just want to get over this thing that im supposed to be a successful person but im not so idrc if i do or dont live
so many ppl on tarot related blogs ask about their fs but if we dont meet them does it matter and would they just move on with their life? like i think u have to have ur life put together but its genuinely so hard to do these days so i hope my fs wont be sad at all when i die cause i wouldnt be able to make tnem truly happy anyway cause im not happy myself with how things have been
ideally i wouldve done something in a sport or music but that ship sailed long ago and now im so stuck but id hate to be reliant on someone else and i shouldve moved out into my own place but housing is ridiculously expensive where im from and taxes dont help anyone. it takes years and years to pick up a talent so i have wasted those years and ik im just going to struggle to get past 50 if i were to have my own place bc minimum wage jobs suck arse and i dont want to be doinng something lame not that its lame for others to do it, its just not what i wanted to have done at all
you cant even get a degree without needing to fork out hundreds and thousands so yeah none of its easy and sure you can try subliminals but lets face it the systemn we are in is fucked up big time so rn i cant even bother with daydream about how it could have been or the what ifs i had done smth differently or if i had any talent but then theres still the, im too old and too foreign to do any sort of music as most successful groups nowadays are korean and even if i tried to do what they did it would probs end up killing me some way or other
its just either about having to be wealthy or having some type of talent both of which id fail at anyway as i shouldve done it years ago like a normal person who goes from being so so at something to being great at something.
i truly think i was born in wrong generation or i just shouldnt have been born at all then i wouldnt have to fret constantly abt these types of things. i think if the government genuinely sorted shit out for once and helped society ppl would be happier to work for less but im not happy at all with the current state of things. i feel guilty for existing and i hate it sm like god just let me end my life pleaseeeeeeeeeeeeee there is nothing worthwhile in store, ik we could try shifting subliminals but have those genuinely worked? like u exit this reality and straight into the one you wanted originally? but then i might as well just pass away cause id have to know what i want in another reality
My dude, take a deep breath. You’ve ranted about all this same exact stuff a bunch of times now and I’m just gonna repeat the same thing I said to you last time:
All of that stuff you mentioned about your current reality is an illusion. Time is an illusion. It does not matter what you’ve done in the past. The economy does not matter. Your present circumstances do not matter.
I’ll add to that: Whatever some tarot reader or TikTok psychic says definitely does not matter. Idk what fs means but I’m guessing something like a twin flame and that is especially 1000% bullshit.
The spiritual community has created an incredible amount of false narratives to make excuses and blame outside forces for why things aren’t going their way. None of it is real. Seriously forget everything you learned about fate, karma, astrology, or anything else that’s saying something else is in control. Reality is an illusion. YOU are in control.
You don’t have to identify with any old bullshit anymore. Stop repeating the old story and think about what you do want. You can have literally ANYTHING! You say you don’t know what you want, ok, but you know what you don’t want, right?
I don’t want to work -> I want to live in a reality where I don’t have to work.
There, you just figured out something you want! It’s that simple.
I totally agree that this society is a horrific shitshow and I don’t want to be aware of it anymore either. But it’s just one version of reality available. It’s not the only reality and it’s not the original reality. You don’t have to be aware of it anymore if you don’t want to be.
You also don’t have to involve death at all. There’s a lot of misconception in the shifting world which has lead to concepts like “permashifting” and “respawning”, but those just all assume this current reality is the original one. It’s not.
Have you watched The Matrix? It’s really more like a documentary than science fiction lol. Just like in the movie, we are being tricked by a simulated virtual reality, controlled by a society that’s using us for our energy. Just think of reality as an escape room. We’re escaping the Matrix. Once you figure out how to leave, you don’t ever have to go back. There are infinite realities available to you, and none are more real or right or original than any others. Remember, death is not an ultimate, nor does it exist in all realities.
I am scripting a utopian reality with my best friend where there is no death, aging, or illness. Everyone is a master manifestor so they always get whatever they want. Nobody has to work and there isn’t even a need for money because we can manifest anything instantly. We can just relax and get massages all day. Everyone lives in peace and harmony and abundance. Animals are treated as equals to humans, we can all communicate with each other, and we can all fly and teleport. Because why the f not? 🤷🏻♀️😂
And if you really don’t want to exist (I’m guessing that other ask from a couple weeks ago is you too lol) you don’t have to exist in this reality, or any other. Removing your awareness from all physical reality is known as entering the void. You exist there as pure consciousness, and you can stay there as long as you like. It is you as your highest self. There’s nothing negative about it.
As for the whole subliminal thing, shifting subliminals are just one method. Shifting = manifesting = deciding what you want and experiencing it. It’s something we are always doing and is available to all of us. You don’t need any methods to shift besides intention. We just use methods to convince/calm the annoying human brain that is programmed with society’s limits.
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Day 4 - Vacation/Touching the Clouds
For Maiko Week ‘22 organized by @idonthatemaiko
May 18th – Vacation/Touching the Clouds
“We really have to do this, don’t we?”
Mai looked down as she spoke, determined to keep this bout of nausea a secret from her husband for as long as possible. She lucked out with no morning sickness during her pregnancy with Izumi. This time around, it appeared, would be different.
Not that anyone had to know quite yet. I can probably get away excusing it for sea sickness.
“Mai, it’s a vacation.” Her husband cupped her waist from behind. “Do we need to go take a nap in our cabin?”
Zuko accentuated ‘nap’ with a kiss on the nape of her neck. Mai let out a quiet whine of frustration before making her decision.
“Izumi’s been so eager to work on forms with you this morning. Let me go rest while you two do some work.” Mai swirled her hips discreetly, her small bottom coming in contact with the front of Zuko’s trousers. “Then we can put her down for her nap while you and I…don’t nap.”
If Zuko was being honest with himself, he moved a bit too quickly through the katas with Izumi that morning.
______________________
The South Pole flourished and blossomed more and more with each year after the war’s end. What once was a small village had grown into a bustling city with a well-developed system of trade in place with surrounding islands.
The royal family met the town with mild fanfare, aiming to keep their presence subtle. A modest lodge housed their guestroom. Thankfully, they were close by to Aang and Katara. Izumi played well with 5-year-old Kya, there being only one year of age between the girls. Bumi was seven and kept himself preoccupied with trailing behind Uncle Sokka. Inventions and tinkering and boomerang throwing were more interesting than the bending he could not do.
During a private moment in the hall, Katara pulled Mai aside. Blue eyes narrowed at gold ones.
“You’re pregnant.”
Mai blanched before running her fingers through her hair. Leave it to Katara to figure it out so quickly. “Barely. It’s too early to tell him. In case…”
“In case things don’t work out?” Katara finished Mai’s sentence.
Mai was not unfamiliar to the loss of a pregnancy. Four years of trying had passed before she delivered a healthy, happy Izumi. “We’re on vacation. If I tell him now, he’ll fuss over me the entire time. He needs this break.”
Katara moved to pat Mai’s arm, stopping as she remembered the knives under her sleeves. She smiled and waved her hands in the air. She grabbed her water skin and held it up as a consolation.
“How about we see how you two are progressing?”
Mai’s expression melted into one of gratitude. There was some time to spare before dinner. Aang and Zuko had the kids running about outside. Katara led her friend to her rooms before closing the door behind them.
“Zuko’s always going to worry about something,” Katara started as she wove the water from her skin.
Robes open, Mai’s lower abdomen was ripe with goosebumps. The waterbender’s hands began to glow as water encircled them. Mai hissed at the temperature.
“I can’t do anything about the heat, sorry. But maybe make this be something worthwhile for him to worry about,” Katara continued as she moved her hands over Mai’s exposed stomach. “He’s tried to talk about a trade agreement with Sokka since he got here.”
Mai chortled. “To be fair, he’s been working on that agreement for months.”
Katara snapped the water back into her skin. “Well, it looks like you will be working on something for months as well. I’d say you’re about ten weeks or so along? Nothing feels abnormal, and the heart is beating strong.”
“Very strong?”
“Very strong, Mai.”
The women made their way out to the men, dishing out the latest life updates and such. Zuko slowly chased Kya and Izumi through a snowy field while Aang manipulated the snow into obstacles.
“Looks like clouds, Momma. I can touch the clouds!” Izumi laughed and leapt into pile after pile of snow Aang put in her path.
Mai smiled at her daughter, watching on as she imagined another child playing this game someday. “Yeah, Zums. It sure does.”
That evening, the Fire Lady curled around her husband’s muscular frame, desperate for the warmth he exuded. Four-year-old Izumi was tucked into a small bed in a corner of the room. Her parents did not fret about her warmth. From birth, Izumi exhibited many signs of bending capabilities. Namely, a high body temperature. The girl was as snug as could be.
Zuko shifted beside her. He turned his head towards hers, clearly awake from his slumber. The parents whispered, careful to not wake their daughter.
“Have you slept at all?
“No.”
“Are you ok?”
“Yeah, just thinking.”
Zuko’s good eye widened. “About what?”
Mai snuck a glance in Izumi’s direction. “I love her so much. She can be a lot to handle sometimes but she’s worth it. Right?”
“Mai, I don’t see where you’re going with this.”
She relented. “What if we add another one to the mix?”
Zuko stroked her cheek. “We tried so hard for her. I don’t want to put you through that stress again. Unless that’s what you really want.”
“We don’t have to.” Mai grinned uncharacteristically as she guided his hand from her face to her abdomen. It exuded a flash of warmth as Zuko put the pieces together.
“Really?” He breathed.
“Really.”
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I dont have anything worthwhile to say really, but im also detransitioned (have been for a couple of years now, after living as the opposite sex since early/mid teens), and im also having a lot of struggles with identity, and losing that cloak of invisibility or set of armour that passing as the opposite sex meant to me. Im sorry to hear you're going through it, i wish the best for you, i know its not easy, and its strange and isolating, disorienting and feels like a kind of death, at least to me. I hope whatever your future holds is good, or better. I just wanted to let you know that your words resonate. I really appreciate that you talk about your experience, and honestly especially that you seem to take a lot more care than most do in maintaining boundaries (for lack of a better word) around what information you want to share, its a good reminder to a lot of detrans people i think, that we dont have to justify ourselves by sharing every detail of our story.
Thank you. I hope you get through this, i dont know you, but i know it can be a lot to carry, on top of everything else life throws one's way.
I still remember a draft I had for a while (now deleted) that started with, "Detransition feels like watching myself die." I absolutely know what it's like to experience what you describe here. It really does feel like death all too often, especially when we have lived our lives behind a front for so long; in both of our cases, from the time we were children. It's very scary to watch that front fade away, even when we know that we are letting go for a greater good. I'm sorry you know what it is like to feel this—but I'm glad that I seem to have given you some ounce of comfort.
Thank you so much for sending this to me. I'm sending you peace, sweet Anon.
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come and go
today is a day of reflection. Yesterday was confrontation, today is for reflection. it is a passive day, a day of thought. a day to rethink, a day to ponder. Days like these, i stay at home, sitting for hours staring at something insignificant, letting the gears shift around in my head as I run over all the things that have happened to me as of late and reshift my world view. Probably going to do a shit ton of blogging!
So, lets start with the lovely fact that I am now single again. Whee, tried dating after a couple months, jumped into something way too fast with a virtual stranger who i cant even touch, and it ended quick as well! I knew, deep down, that this was the likely course of action. She asked me out without even really knowing me, and I, the lonely dumbass sad sap that I am, said yes. I dont blame her, I really shouldve known better? What was I thinking haha, it really shows that im new to this shit, and not a natural. Its probably my desperation, my deep desire for intimacy and deeper connection , that drove me to say yes. An impulse. it was stupid, but it taught me some lessons.
I got out of my comfort zone, i met someone who is very different from me. Thats good. I calmed down just a little, not exactly happy but atleast im not as much of a stuck up piece of shit. Look, im talking down to myself, I know, but i get a pass because im depressed and honestly should know better. Doing things quickly and without thinking things through is the surefire path for a quick grave in my life. That has only gotten me trouble in the past, and it really shows that I have to just be more meticulous. More analytic, more cautious. its a fucking brutal world. I cant just, go and do shit because I think i can. I have to really consider the reprecussions and contexts of my actions.
Because honestly? i dont wanna be the kind of person who goes on and off with different people weekly. I want something deep, intimate, personal; something fulfilling for me. I want to give someone a scrap of my soul for a while. I want to find someone who actually likes me for me, not because they are just as desperate as I am or bored and want to fuck around. When i dont take things seriously, i tend to hurt myself. I want to take dating seriously because i want serious things out of dating. I dont really find happyness out of whimsy, i find it out of stability. Thats something that takes planning.
She's a nice person, its not like she was using me or anything. I just dont think i was the person she wanted, and either she thought i was someone else or i could act like someone else to fill her desire, to an extent. If anything, at the end she told me she already had someone else on her horizons, so she wasnt really taking this as seriously as I was. which is stupid, you want a partner who can match your temperments on the subject of dating and your relationship, or atleast for the two of you to find a common ground on what you want your relationship to be.
I guess it wasnt really working out for either of us, but I naively assumed that comfort takes time, and that settling into the relationship would make it more worthwhile. That wasnt how it was for my last relationship, i shouldve known better. If things are working, there shouldnt really be a doubt. You will know that they are working, they will feel like they are working. If something feels wrong, thats because something is wrong, and you have to figure out what it is if you want it to work out, or hell maybe the answer is that it wont work out and then you have to come to terms with that before you are stranded on a sinking ship.
People come and go. they drift in and out of my life, and no one really seems permanent. Im still grasping this concept of fleetingness, of the temporary. I get waaayyy too attached to people for my own good, and honestly its good that this thing, which was doomed to fail from the start, ended sooner than later. Shit still stings, but its not a pain i wont be able to bare. Im mostly annoyed with myself, if anything. Lonelyness joins me again... is what I would say if i hadnt felt this lonely for the last half week anyways. It wasnt really working out between us, we didnt build that bond, sparks wernt really there. Oh well.
So what now?
I guess im gonna have to stay adrift. I have to wait till next year to reignite my social life with irls anyways, but ill live with that. Ill do the most healing that I can in therapy, and lean on the relationships i still have. Ill survive, this isnt groundbreaking. Its more just like, embarrassing if anything, that I cant keep a relationship. I already have this strong sense of self-doubt and insecurity, and this kinda just feeds that fire for a while. It will all settle down and be forgotten eventually. I'm not gonna die on this hill (literally).
time to keep thinking
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September 7, 2023
“You can’t go back to the past just because it is familiar.”
But what do you do when all the boundaries of present and the future blur themselves into this difficult shade of blue you can’t decode. What do you do when you would just do anything to go back to that part of your life where at least something is familiar to you. Moreover, what do you do when the present does not work, the future is bleak and you don’t remember any even a single worthwhile memory to hold on to your past for.
It all feels like damn damn labyrinth, i was out of it for sometime and I really believed that i was, but now that all this has started again, was i really ever out of it? No! Some of us are really trapped inside ourselves, in our own lives and it is the toughest thing to make the people understand what we really feel at that point of time. A few days ago my friend texted me that she needs a cigarette really bad (has been trying to avoid them), i called her up and was like dude dont go down that street, but really it was so easy for me to say that. And she did tell me how i would never understand how she felt. A few hours ago i did something terrible too, as Frost would put it I took the wrong road, I took a way i knew too well, too well to even know that it was the wrong one. But right now while im writing this even im not able to imagine let alone understand what was i feeling then.
Today just happens to be one of those bad days you know, which start bad and keep getting worse and all you can do is to wait, wait for time to pass and heal all that has been eroded. I remember writing in my diary once that how, “We have all slept for nights, after which we never wished to wake up again.” Today is really one of those nights, and I do wonder that how shall it pass, but ik it will, because Shakespeare said no, “This too shall pass.” But does it really matter what Shakespeare said when he can’t feel what im feeling, and are his words but really helping me? Are my own words really helping me for that sake? Will I get over the guilt of doing what I just did and like that? Will I ever be happy? Will my words really make sense anyday?
Will i have the answers to these spirals that run down in my head?
John Green said that, “What you need to understand about me is that I’m a deeply unhappy person.” Was Green talking about me when he wrote this, i dont know. But what Ive sort of slightly understood is that my grief has become so much entwined with who i am as a person that i somehow am not really ready for it to leave me. I remember reading this post on Instagram where this person asks his friend that are we really willing to let go off our grief? I guess im never going to do that, what i have felt during my low times is something i wish to carry through my highs, for i shall always remember how far Ive come.
I really was on the good track from some days/months ago, i started to adore myself like i have never done before, but today it feels like i did away with everything with just some (8) blows. It’s like literally i took the sharpest edge of the screwdriver and dig it in my skin. Sometimes there’s so much going on in my head that i really wish it to get out through inflicting pain upon my body, like really. It goes so hard that i get an adrenaline rush from harming myself, and want to see myself more hurt after that.
i have cursed my skin a lot, a lot in the damn twenty years i have spent on this planet but today i do really feel bad for it, for i have inflicted more pain on it, than it really deserved. But isn’t life unfair to me too like that inflicting more pain on me than i deserve, than i really can take, isnt life unfair too!?
I remember this person in college I telling people how i was all about money and good clothes, i wish she could see this side of things as well. But haven’t all of us at some point of times in our lives been like her only, ignoring what the other person feels just due to the look they put out for us too see, dont we too often feel like how other people get it easy in their lives, but really are any of us getting it any easy than each other? I feel we are too broken for a generation to be. But aren’t we also broken because we were raised by a generation which was broken too? Is this world really so broken, is it as broken as my skin is, but is my skin more broken or my heart, or my poetry.
Is it a competition for being the most broken?
(Will i win)
- N
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the decorations | c.h.
Welcome to the first installment of 12 dates with calmas! There will be one blurb every day through Christmas! Happy holidays if you celebrate and good times to you all! ♥️
You and Calum go decoration shopping in an attempt to make your daughter’s first Christmas perfect. Shoutout to @notinthesameguey for such a fun idea, everyone go give Blanca some much deserved love!
1.3k words
dates with cal masterlist
Copyright © 2020 calpops. All rights reserved. This original work is not allowed to be reposted on any platform in any format (translations included).
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“Cal, look,” you say and grab your husband’s attention as you pull an ornament from its hook in the aisle. Calum turns to gaze at you, your five month old daughter snuggled into his arms. Mila is half awake, her eyes barely open as her head rests against Calum’s chest. Her baby carrier is in the cart but neither of you are prone to using it, always opting to have her in your arms where it feels she’s the safest. Calum raises his eyebrows in question at the ornament in your hand and strides across the aisle as Mila yawns.
“What is it?” Calum asks as he scans the item in question with a sweeping gaze. Gold and glitter adorn the ornament and a space in the middle leaves him confused.
“It’s for a family photo,” you inform and toss it into the cart without any further question or information. Calum grins at your antics and takes a peek into the cart you’ve both been mindlessly filling all morning. Everything from garland to window clings of snowflakes to ornaments to endless strings of lights to wall hangings and wreaths are buried amongst each other in the cart. “Are we missing anything?”
“I’m pretty sure we have half the store in our cart,” Calum says around a laugh and takes a small step closer to you as he watches your nose crinkle and eyebrows furrow in thought. You bite your lip for a moment and Calum knows how far gone your thoughts are taking you—to the other half of the store yet to be bought.
“It’s our baby’s first Christmas. I want it to be perfect,” you finally say and close the slight distance between you, Calum and Mila. Your hand reaches up to stroke Mila’s cheek and your eyes soften as she gazes at you with a little smile. “Besides, we’ve never decorated the house before. We have a lot of catching up to do.”
Calum simply nods, knowing how important Mila’s first Christmas is to you, also feeling the same amount of importance in his own heart. You and your daughter are everything to him. Your first Christmas as a family shines in the distance with string lights and glitter filled ornaments. Calum knows all that is in the cart are just accessories to the day, that the most important thing is being together. But the shine of happiness and awe in your eyes at Christmas decor convinces him the rest is worthwhile, even down to the napkin holders and Christmas collar for Duke.
“Should we get anything for the yard?” you ask next as you wander down another aisle with Calum and Mila following. “We could get the inflatable Santa… or is that too tacky?”
Calum huffs out a laugh at the serious contemplation on your face as your eyes scan yard ornaments and lights. “Sweetheart, we’re buying matching pajamas for you, me, Mila and Duke; I think we’re well past tacky.”
“Yeah?” you ask with a light smile and slowly reach for the jolly looking Santa to not so inconspicuously put it among all of the other decorations much to Calum’s amusement. “Stockings!” You blurt out as the looked past but very much needed staple of Christmas enters your thoughts. “We don’t have stockings yet.”
“We can fix that,” Calum promises and bounces Mila slightly as she starts to stir in his arms. “I think there’s one empty spot in there for them.”
You smirk around a giggle at Calum’s slight teasing and lead your family down a few more aisles to find a wall of stockings to choose from. Mila calms as Calum continues to soothe her and sway where you both stand in inspection of the different designs. Your hand holds one of Mila’s, your voice coos to her as she settles and you ask her opinion on any stocking that catches your eye.
“Do you like this one, lovebug?” you ask with a white knit one in hand. When Mila doesn’t respond you shake your head. “Me either.” You place it back with the others and keep searching.
“Up there,” Calum says and gestures with a nod of his head. The ones he points out are too high up for you to grab. You give him a pointed look and reach out for Mila instead of stockings. He laughs and reluctantly hands her to you; the only disagreements you get in lately over who gets to hold her. For being five months she’s still small and having her in your arms reminds you of that fact. She fits so perfectly into your hold that anytime she’s in your arms it takes your breath away for just a moment. She’s been growing, the difference between her days in the incubator to being three months and now five still strike you. But she remains tiny and precious in your hold. A rush of people pass you, your back turning to them to keep Mila from being in the fray as Calum reaches up to grab the stockings he pointed out. He brings them down to your eye level with a proud smirk and tilts his head as he awaits your approval.
You immediately smile at the stockings in his hand and bounce with Mila in your arms to make her adjustment to your hold to her liking. She lets out a small little noise as she settles and the people pass by without incident. You give the stockings another once over and watch as Calum shuffles his feet and his cheeks grow pink.
“Little bears?” you ask with fondness in your tone, the stockings fuzzy with little ears on the top and cute little faces on the upper third.
“For momma bear, papa bear and baby bear,” he explains with a little giggle that makes your chest grow with warmth. His bashful explanation makes your heart flutter and heat creep through you; the world of parenting still relatively new, the small quirks and new titles not losing their allure. Calum’s eyes grow wide for a second and he quickly turns to grab another off the wall. “And dog bear,” he quickly adds on so as to make sure the entire family is included.
“They’re perfect,” you praise and give Calum a chaste kiss on the cheek as Mila makes a small noise that you both take as approval and a plea to go home.
Once you do get home, Mila is put in her bassinet for a nap and you’re both faced with endless bags of decorations you turn to Calum.
“Are sure it’s enough?”
Calum laughs. “I think we’ll make do.”
“You think her first Christmas will be perfect?”
“Of course,” he says and pulls you to him, hands running up and down your arms to soothe you. “She’s got you. Can’t get any better than that.”
You giggle at Calum’s cheesy but heartfelt statement and settle into his arms, laying your head against his chest just like Mila does. “Now all we have to do is decorate, get presents, wrap the presents, make sure she watches all the classic Christmas movies”—Calum cuts off your rambling list by running his fingers through your hair and easing the perfectionism in you.
“What’s this really about?” Calum asks, knowing that there’s an underlying reason for seeking perfection.
You feel caught, your husband’s innate ability to see through you like stained glass never failing to catch up. You sigh and pull back so you can look him in the eyes.
“My parents never cared enough to have a good Christmas. I just want Mila to have better.”
Calum nods his understanding, eyes gone glossy and soft as he gazes at you. “I promise she will. And I promise that you will have the best Christmas too.”
With Calum’s promise and the rationale that just being with your family will make the day perfect you settle back into his arms and hold onto his words and love.
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Should’ve Known Better [GW]
After the Second Wizarding War, the wizarding world faces a great recession that puts you and George in financially and morally compromising situations.
Pairing: George Weasley x Reader
Word Count: 3.3k
Warnings: swearing and terrible use of tenses (im sorry for the grammar)
A/N: written for angst prompt #14 for @kalimagik‘s 1.3k writing challenge!! congrats on 1.3k again!! <3
You had always been good–exceptional, actually–at writing since your teenage years. Essays you’ve written for work assigned by Professor Flitwick managed you top marks. Hell, even Snape commended your writing from time to time (if he wasn’t too busy taking away points from Gryffindor.) Throughout your years at Hogwarts, you entered multiple wizarding writing competitions and won them all. It made sense to you to seek out a job at the Daily Prophet after graduating from Hogwarts to put those writing skills to good use.
Your first year at the Daily Prophet was difficult, to say the least. You were paid almost next to nothing and writing on an empty stomach while worrying if you had enough galleons to pay rent was terrible for your creative process. On top of that, it seems as though whatever piece you made never satisfied your boss, Angel Hornbeam, editor of the Tragedies and Mishaps section of the paper. Each piece you wrote was either sent back with red ink splattered across the parchment with scathing comments on how sophomoric & crass your writing was or outright discarded. You didn’t know what Angel hated more: you or your writing.
There you were walking down Diagon Alley after a grueling day at work. You made two pieces today–only two pieces–that were immediately thrown out to the rejection pile at the corner of Angel’s office. Roan Staghart, a colleague of yours, accidentally spilled pumpkin juice all over you which Angel pointed out and subsequently prompted her to give you a long-winded lecture on how unbecoming it was to sport such an unprofessional appearance in a place of work. You made your way down Diagon Alley with your path only being illuminated by the lights in the shops you passed. You were downtrodden and hungry and lonely and unmotivated and uninspired. You thought about the eviction notice plastered to your flat’s door that you received earlier that day before heading off to work. You thought about the empty pantry in said flat, which then reminded you of your empty wallet. Lost in thought and not looking directly straight ahead, you ram your head straight into the open door of Weasley’s Wizard Wheezes. Your arse lands on the cobblestoned path and you’re clutching your bleeding nose with your right hand, while your left provides support.
“Merlin, I’m sorry!” says one of the Weasley twins as he hurriedly walks toward you.
“Georgie, go get her some ice.” says the twin to the other behind him, still clutching the door open.
“Fred, right? Sorry, I’m shite at telling you and your brother apart.” You say while letting out a humourless chuckle, wincing in pain as you clutch your nose. Fred crouches down to your level.
“S’alright, just know I’m the better looking one.” He pauses, “You’re [Y/N], you were in [Hogwarts House], correct? I remember you selling a pre-written essay to Lee in our fourth year. T’was the only he got an O for, if I recall.” says Fred with a joking grin. George runs back with ice wrapped in a handkerchief which he passes to Fred, which Fred passes to you.
“Had to make money to buy butterbeer at Hogsmeade somehow.” You answer him as you bring the wrapped ice to your nose. Both the brothers smile at you and you smile back.
“Fred and I were actually headed off to dinner at our flat, join us. I suppose it’s the least we could do after the damage we’ve inflicted onto your poor nose.” George proposes.
“I couldn’t impose–”
“Nonsense!” They say in unison. Fred offers you a hand, which you graciously take. He pulls you up and you walk with them to their flat.
You were now at the Weasley twins’ shared flat at the edge of Diagon Alley. It was the best meal you’ve had in weeks, not to mention the twins’ presence was a morale booster in itself. Dinner lasted an hour, but the conversations after lasted well into the night. You wondered why you weren’t friends with the twins during their school years. Perhaps if you detached your hand from your favorite quill and parchment, you would have been. Regardless, that night sparked a friendship.
You were stopping by the shop on your way home from work on the daily and the twins enjoyed your presence so much so they offered you a small, part-time job as a stock keeper as a means to keep yourself afloat while your work your way up the Daily Prophet ladder. They’d come to visit you in their spare time at your dinky flat on the border of Knockturn and Diagon alley. As hard as your first year at the Daily was, your newfound friendship with Fred and George made it all the worthwhile. While you and Fred remained friends, you and George had begun to engage in a shameless “flirtationship” as you coined–always dancing on the border of friends and being more than friends. Stealing kisses in the shop, holding hands underneath dinner tables, George reasoning out to Fred that you needed help at your flat only for him to spend the night, writing little notes for George before he left in the morning. Everyone around you knew you and George were it, as much as you and he tried to suppress it. One day, George decided to make it real and official.
Your personal life had improved immensely after your horrendous first year as a journalist. You were dating George Weasley, your pantry was always full now, and you didn’t have to worry about getting evicted anymore. Your work life wasn’t as terrible as before as Angel Hornbeam turned over a new leaf and was much more forgiving at work. You were finally given a small promotion–not a choice Angel made, but by a higher-up as you stayed loyal to the good of the wizarding world–which offered you enough stability to leave the shop.
The wizarding world at this point in time, however, was not improving. Death eaters infiltrated the ministry and your beloved Hogwarts. They started censoring pieces at the Daily Prophet, much to your chagrin. You couldn’t write or report about tragedies happening as the Death Eaters wanted the media to depict dark wizards as righteous and justify their actions. You moved over to making crossword puzzles for the paper as opposed to spewing lies about Lord Voldemort and his mission to take over the wizarding world. Fred and George had to close down shop for the time being as the Weasleys went into hiding.
Then the Battle of Hogwarts happened. You fought alongside Fred and George, casting spells and charms. Blasting death eaters left and right. You did everything you could to fight against the Death Eaters. But you couldn’t save Fred, nor could George. George was never the same after Fred’s death and neither were you. You were both deeply resigned to grieving and still continue to do so everyday. The sun still rose and set like it always did, but Fred was gone and the world just kept spinning. It left you and George no time to breathe.
The wizarding world slowly built itself back up after the war, with Kingsley Shacklebolt acting as the Minister for Magic. He’d done a bloody good job of it. He purged out the dark wizards from the ministry and from the Daily Prophet, effectively returning most things back to normal. You were back to writing in the Tragedies and Mishap department, but the wizarding world hit a great recession after the war. People were losing jobs left and right; you knew for a fact that your neck was next on the chopping board if you didn’t come up with a good piece soon. Though George was slowly reopening the shop, with the help of his family, it wasn’t enough to keep you and he afloat. Losing this job would bring your right back to where you were your first year out of Hogwarts and you were determined to avoid that.
--
It was 3 o’clock in the afternoon, two hours to the end of the work week. You haven’t written anything substantial in a while and your desk was evidence. The brown wood was stained with droplets of stray ink from your quill, but they weren’t as obvious because of the crumpled pieces of ripped parchment scattered across the desk. Your hand was ink-stained and your hair was in disarray. To say the least, you looked a mess.
“[Y/N], I need you in my office,” Angel called out to you, peering out of her office door.
You stood up, straightening out your top, trying to look as presentable as possible. Walking over to her office catches the attention of your many officemates. Your stomach begins to feel like a vacuum, sucking in all the air around you, ineffectively trying to get you to breathe. Were your fears getting realized? Was this it for your writing career? So many thoughts raced in your head as you walked–slogged, rather–the distance from your desk to Angel’s office. You reach the archway of her door and she instructs you to close it. You gulp heavily.
“Yes, Angel? Anything I could do for you?” You anxiously choke out. You feel like your guts are about to unceremoniously find its way out your mouth and onto her office floor.
Her office was decorated all in black, from her quills to her velvet wallpaper. Angel stood out in the gloomy decor of her office, sporting an all-white outfit. She says it’s a metaphor–tragedies are both light and dark, simultaneously and she wants to embody that. A little pretentious, but she’s right nonetheless.
“Don’t look at me like that, I’m not going to fire you, darling.” Darling, a term of endearment, but never when it came from Angel’s lips. “I’m close, but I won’t. I have a proposition”
You look at her intently, your eyes almost bulging.
“I want an editorial piece on grief and love. I want romance wrapped in despair, topped with angst.” Angel mused.
“I beg your pardon?” You muster out.
“Write about lost love, the war did just happen–it’ll be fresh, uncut,” Angel pauses for dramatic effect, “Absolutely raw.” She clenches her fist in such a theatrical manner, it's almost comical.
You stay silent, unsure of what to say or do. Your face must’ve looked bewildered, as she slouches and rolls her eyes.
“Godric, I want you to interview someone who lost the love of their life because of the war, so to speak. It’ll do wonders for readership. Have you read that muggle story–Romeo and Juliet? Love and tragedy create such a spicy little mix.” She says in response to your look.
“Wouldn’t that be exploitative, no? Everyone’s still grieving.” You question Angel.
“That’s journalism.” Angel’s brows are furrowed and you can tell she’s trying to control her temper. “I better have a damn well-written editorial on my desk come Monday morning. May I remind you, you are the last of your colleagues to have either been promoted up or let go. Do you want to be the latter?”
You gulp, she hasn’t threatened you since your first year at the office. You shakily let out a soft no. She returns with a softly-said good and points you to the direction of her door.
--
You were on your way home to you and George’s shared flat in Diagon Alley. Your mind was raking itself for who you could possibly call to satisfy Angel’s wants. The gears were grinding hard until you had the aha moment–Angelina. Her and Fred’s relationship was complicated to say the least. They weren’t friends but they weren’t boyfriend and girlfriend, but they didn’t want to see other people. You could no longer recall what they were and with Fred gone, the answer didn’t seem to matter anymore. The “almost” aspect of the relationship would provide the angst–unfinished business, if you will. Fred’s death and the love that could’ve been. You lit up at the ideas forming in your head, but you feel your conscience gnawing at you. However, you and George had to keep the lights on somehow.
George had beaten you home that night and was eating a packed dinner from Molly on your couch. You hang your bag on the rack next to the door, taking your coat off as well. You walk over to George, plotting your body next to him. Resting your head against his shoulder you say, “How was your day?”
You each share quips about your days at work, leaving out Angel’s request entirely. A silence ensues and you find this to be the most opportune moment to ask him.
“D’you mind having Angelina over tomorrow? A light catch-up? Haven’t seen her since, well, y’know when.” You ask George. His face stiffens.
“Alright, would be good to see an old friend, yeah?” He manages to say. He gets up to write an owl to Angelina. He sends the owl off and within the hour, Angelina’s response comes back. She agrees.
--
It’s the day of your interview-not-interview with Angelina. You are in the bathroom getting ready while George waits by the door for Angelina. Your self-writing quill for note taking and its accompanying notebook are hidden in a cupboard at the corner of the kitchen that could not be seen from the dining room, ready to start writing at your will.
“Love, Angelina’s here!” George says through the bathroom door. You quickly get out, rounding the corner to get to the living room and see Angelina sat on your sofa. You bring her in for a hug which she happily returns, you feel the guilt creep up again. You try and dismiss the feeling as hard as you can but it lingers like an unwanted guest. Trying to ease your nerves, you invite her to the dining room, where food you cooked in the morning lay waiting.
Angeline told stories about her life as a bigtime Quidditch match commentator and you entertained her with stories from the Sports department. You were both marveling at how much time has changed things since your graduation from Hogwarts to the war to life now. Now’s a good a time as any, your mind reasons out. You muster what little courage you had and shift the topic over to Fred.
“So, Angelina, how have you been holding up, since the battle?” You ask her. George looks at you strangely, as he notes the shift and tone in your voice.
“Uh, well I’m here. Coping. Grieving.” She responds.
“We’re here for you, tell us more.” You say, trying to probe more information out of her. A slimy feeling makes itself known in the insides of your stomach and you try your hardest to ignore it.
Angelina stays silent and then starts, “It’s been rough, Fred–” The winning ticket.
“What about Fred? It was a bit complicated before he died.” Cutting her off, you were siphoning as much information as you can.
“Yes, it was. You know that.” Angelina deflected, but she continued. “I wish there was more time. More time with him.” Her voice grew heavy, but you tried to turn up the pressure.
“Tell me, what would you have done with that time? Were there things you would’ve said? Done?”
Angelina takes an ugly pause.
“Well?” You don’t mean to say this in such a crass and impatient manner, but you do.
At this point, George stands up. He gets uncomfortable and goes to the cupboard to fetch himself a glass of water. As he inches to the cupboard, he hears scratching noises like a quill writing on parchment. He knows exactly what you’re doing now. Opening the cupboard he sees your quill and notebook scribbling away. On the pad is written, “‘A love lost, an almost,’ says Angelina as she begins to tell me about what could’ve been had Fred avoided his untimely death…” George stopped reading. It clicks in George’s head now. It explains the sudden decision to send an owl over to her last night. George’s jaw tenses up.
He grabs a glass, closing the cupboard, while leaving the quill and notebook in there. He heads to the front of the refrigerator where you’d be unable to see him. It gives him time to rethink his next move while calming down. He knew journalism would be gross, but he didn’t think you’d prey on your friends–especially since you knew how everyone was still mourning the loss of his twin brother.
Angelina begins to cry from the other room, but you continue to hound her with questions.
“What would you be doing now if Fred were still around? Do you still dream of a life with him? What else have you been doing to fill the space? Do you wish there was more you could’ve done?” The words were practically marathoning out your mouth. The guilt in you subsides and all you feel now is a desire to get the truth out of Angelina. It’s as though you were watching this unfold from the corner of the room; it wasn’t you shoving questions down Angelina’s throat, but an entirely different entity.
“Merlin, will you stop!” Angelina boomed. “I’m leaving. I missed you and George, I really did. But, how dare you. We’re all grieving and if this is your sick at attempt at therapy, I’ve damn near had it.”
You’re silent and you feel yourself float back to your body, sat in front of a tearful and red-faced Angelina. She angrily gets up, dropping her fork onto the table. She makes a beeline for the coat rack, grabbing her things, and leaves–making sure to slam the door.
“What the fuck was that, [Y/N]?” George shot at you, as he emerged from the kitchen. He was holding his glass of water with his fingers by the brim, both his arms by his side. The expression plastered on his face was a mixture between disappointed, frustration, and anger. You stay silent.
“Answer me, what was that?” George repeats again. You still stay silent, you don’t know how to answer him. “Were you trying to make a piece out of Angelina?”
You look down at your lap repentantly. “Angel said she’d fire me if I didn’t.”
George makes his way over to you, placing his glass on the dining room table. He doesn’t take a seat, instead he looks down at you in anger.
“She’s our friend. She’s grieving, mourning–like you and me fucking both.” George was fuming, “You were being a prick and I didn’t like it, obviously neither did Angelina. I could say more, but out of respect, I won’t.”
“George, we have to eat one way or another. I didn’t want to lose any more income than we already had!” You tried very hard to justify your reasons as to why.
“At expense of a good friend of ours? Merlin, [Y/N].” George rebutted. “I can’t even look at you right now. I know you love writing, I do. I love your writing, in fact. But, this is low. All for what? A few fucking galleons? Merlin.”
George turns his heel and stomps to the door, grabbing his coat and slamming the door shut in one swift motion. He presumably chases after Angelina to apologize on your behalf. You hang your head, trying to recollect yourself, and think about what to say to Angelina and George.
You decide right then and there that you were going to quit your job at the Daily Prophet–there was always a need for writers in the Wizarding World anyway and jobs of that sort were probably not as exploitative in nature. Deciding to write a Letter of Resignation later that night, you trudge your way to the door, grab your coat, and run after George.
--
masterlist here
#maggieswinterwritingchallenge#harry potter#harry potter fanfiction#harry potter x reader#harry potter x y/n#george weasley x y/n#george weasley x reader#george weasley fanfiction#george weasley angst#george weasley#angelina johnson#fred weasley#fred weasley x reader#fred weasley x y/n
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objection
because im now a law/crim student, this is all im gonna fuckin write about
anyway here’s andrew as neil’s defence attorney (totally inspired by @aymmidumps‘ amazing andrew here)
gruesome crime descriptions but neil’s not a butcher in this one
*
“Wesninki’s applying for an appeal,” was all Andrew heard from the minute he’d stepped into the office. It was all anyone could - and would - talk about.
Reasonably so, Andrew presumed. Nathaniel Wesninski had been locked up since his nineteenth birthday, when he slit his father’s throat. Andrew reckons he should’ve never been charged with murder, especially when considering his father was the Butcher of Baltimore, but Andrew had been just an undergraduate student at the time. There was nothing he could’ve done.
Now, though.
Now Andrew was just over thirty and steadily climbing the ranks. He hadn’t intended on becoming a defense attorney, but it just so happened that he was damn good at keep kids out of jail. The juvenile detention system was just a cog in the wheel of dysfunction, after all: he knew that first hand.
Survivors of violent assault who had killed their attackers were also common clients of Andrew’s. Those with mental illnesses and drug addictions found their way into his stack of case files, too. He’d always thought he’d be on the right side of the law, throwing shitty people in jail and fixing the system one day at a time.
This was alright too, he supposed.
“Hey, Minyard,” Boyd leaned against the door-frame of Andrew’s office. He had his own private space, unlike the others, who often shared offices with two or three of their colleagues. Andrew was just lucky. Or favoured.
“Let me guess,” Andrew said, without looking up from his file on a thirteen-year-old being charged with battery and theft. “Dan’s pissy because I didn’t turn up to dinner on Friday, there’s free coffee in the break room, Wesninski’s applying for appeal and Wymack wants me?”
“Uh,” Matt squinted. “Yes? How the hell did you guess?”
Andrew gave Matt a bored look. “You talk too loud. The walls are thin, you know.”
The man huffed, conflicted between being impressed and disgruntled at Andrew’s usual bitchiness. He simply threw his hands up and vanished from Andrew’s doorway, most likely to groan to his wife about how incorrigible Andrew seemed to be.
He threw his file onto his desk, locked his office door behind him and swung past the break room to dump three packets of sugar into a free latte. By the time he arrived at Wymack’s door, the man was already stood up, most definitely unimpressed by Andrew’s tardiness. And his lack of tie.
He did wear a tie to court. Most of the time.
“Nice of you to finally show up,” the old man grunted, tugging on the cuffs of his casual blazer. Andrew fucking hated blazers. They were always too tight around his shoulders. “I suppose you already know what this is all about?”
“Seeing as Allison, Robin and Renee have all tried to talk my ear off about it, yes. I’m aware Wesninski is trying for appeal.”
Wymack wasn’t impressed. “What you don’t know is that he’s come to us to represent him.”
Andrew paused. Now that was interesting. Nathaniel Wesninski was halfway between New York and Baltimore. Why the fuck would he recruit from seedy South Carolina? There was no viable reason, unless -
“Kevin,” he deduced. “How do they know each other?”
“Moriyamas and Wesninskis ran in the same circles, before it all got shut down.” Wymack arched a brow. “Wesninski figures that Kevin is the only person he can trust.”
“Kevin won’t do it,” Andrew shook his head. “He doesn’t touch anything Moriyama related with a ten-foot pole.”
“Wesninski knows that. Which is why he’s asked for you: Kevin passed him on.”
Andrew closed his eyes, very, very briefly, as he cocked his head at his boss. “You want me to get the most notorious gangster’s son out of jail.”
“At least have him commuted to manslaughter,” Wymack suggested.
At least, Andrew thought. He remembered looking over the Wesninski case in his third year. Nathaniel Wesninski had laughed, incredulous, as the FBI lead him away in handcuffs, nearly losing his fingers in an effort to cling onto the knife that he’d used to end Nathan Wesninski’s life.
That wasn’t manslaughter. That was homicide of the first degree, plastered over the front page of every newspaper the next day.
"You’ll owe me,” Andrew warned.
“I’ll cover your bar tab at the Foxhole for the rest of the year,” Wymack conceded.
Andrew huffed. “It’s February.”
Wymack arched an eyebrow.
Andrew had a feeling he’d regret this. He hooked his thumbs in the pockets of his slacks and rocked back on his heels, looking to the ceiling. “Fine.”
“It was an order, not a request,” Wymack grunted. “Get out of my office and get a visitation permit.”
Andrew, already fed up with a case he’d only just been assigned, turned on his heel and dutifully marched off.
*
The drive was nine and a half hours. Andrew could’ve made it a single-day round trip on a plane, but he refused to fly somewhere he could drive instead. He booked a half-hour slot with Wesninski on Saturday afternoon: if he found the man interesting enough, he’d bribe a guard to let him back in Sunday morning. Then he’d drive home, midday Sunday.
At least Wymack was letting him stay in a nice hotel in Philadelphia. It almost made the journey worth it, but he wouldn’t jump the gun. It would only be a worthwhile trip if he figured that Wesninski wasn’t hopeless. The man was just 29. It was nearly 10 years since he’d been locked up. Andrew’s chances were - practically slim to none.
Half-way through the drive Nicky called.
“Heard you’re going to see Wesninski,” he said, the phone somewhat masking Nicky’s obvious curiosity.
Andrew sighed. “Aaron needs to shut his mouth.”
“Aaron comes to family dinners,” Nicky objected. “He has every right to tell me whatever he wants. Speaking of - if I promise you a whole loaf of garlic bread, will you come to the next one?”
Andrew huffed. “I’m busy.”
“Yeah, yeah, you hate socialising, you’ll tolerate dealing with Aaron at work but nowhere else, blah blah. What about me? Your dear, old cousin?”
“Fine,” Andrew grunted. “Now, leave me alone.”
“Yes!” Nicky crowed, but whatever response he had after that was cut off. Andrew dropped his phone back in the passenger seat, turning the radio back up and relaxing into his chair.
It was a further five hours after that disturbance till his arrival at SCI Phoenix, Philadelphia. Andrew would always despise how depressing prison complexes looked. Chain link fences and brick boxes, splayed out like a progression of architectural failures. The parking lot was enormous and empty. Andrew parked far enough away that his nice car wasn’t in direct sight from the prison’s visiting entrance, fixing up his suit and tie and slinging the strap of his briefcase over his shoulder.
The guard by the door snapped his fingers for identification. Andrew flicked his license towards him, gaze deadened by boredom. The guard almost winced when Andrew sighed, looking to the clock. Once he was finally granted access, he took the lanyard and shoved his way through the doors.
Visitation was close to shutting up when Andrew arrived, miserable loved ones reaching for final hugs and brief kisses. Andrew was lead by the duty guard to a private room, waiting by the barred door.
Wesninski was already waiting for him inside. His hands were cuffed to the table, fiddling with a blunt key. His red curls were overgrown and messy, the grey jumpsuit hanging off his small frame.
When the door clanged shut, Wesninski looked up. His eyes were the most spectacular blue Andrew had ever seen, his face marred by horrific scars and the stitches used to hold him together. He looked ridiculously unimpressed. Andrew, meanwhile, smothered any flickers of emotion as intrigue sparked in his chest.
Damn, he thought.
“Unlock him,” Andrew said, to the guard.
The guard arched an eyebrow. “You sure?”
“Obviously,” Andrew said, rolling his eyes. He didn’t have knives on his person - they’d set off the metal detector - but he was never vulnerable. He made a promise that he’d never be taken advantage of again.
Wesninski flexed his wrists when the guard unlocked them, giving Andrew a thinly veiled look of appraisal. The guard immediately skittered off to stand outside the door, holding the interrogation room’s keys in tightly clenched fists.
“So,” Wesninski said, holding out a hand. “You’re the famous Andrew Minyard.”
"And you are the infamous Nathaniel Wesninski,” Andrew returned, ignoring the warmth of his skin as they shook hands. He sat down: the shitty metal chair creaked. “We both seem to have names and reputations that precede us.”
Nathaniel’s eye twitched slightly. “I prefer Neil.”
Andrew leant back in his chair, leg crossed at the ankle. “You seriously think they’re going to let you out?”
“Well,” Neil admitted. “Probably not. But I figured I’d give it a shot. It should be safer out there now.”
“You’ve been hiding in here? Who from, your father’s ghost?”
Neil was not impressed. “His bosses, actually. But since Kengo’s second son was shot between the eyes and his first son locked up for it, I should be fine.”
“Riko and Ichirou,” Andrew deduced. “Kevin’s mentioned them once or twice.”
Neil just glared. “I can’t believe that coward won’t help me.”
Andrew narrowed his eyes. “He owes you, does he? What for? Helping him escape the Moriyamas? Wait - that was me. What about coping with his trauma and reestablishing his career? Nevermind - that was me, too. Goodness, you haven’t been around much, have you? Right, right,” Andrew leaned over the table, resting his chin on his laced fingers. “You’ve been in jail for ten years.”
“You are not funny,” Neil snapped, gripping onto his blunt key.
“I don’t know if it’s worth my time, Mr Wesninski,” Neil flinched again. “Convince me.”
“Other than it’s what is just?” Andrew arched an eyebrow. Neil huffed. “Fine. I’ll pay you. Double your normal fee.”
“Prison pays well, does it?”
“Blood money,” Neil had the audacity to wink. Dammit, Andrew thought again. “I already know you’re quite happy to spend dirty cash, Minyard. A G6, right? Bit of an upgrade from your mother’s car.”
He should not know that. “You’re not exactly winning me over, here.”
Neil leaned back in his chair, fiddling with the stupid little key. He must have spent the last decade tracing it down to its current blunt status. Andrew wondered what it used to unlock.
Okay - he was intrigued by Neil. And yes, his narrative fit Andrew’s bill. And some spare cash wouldn’t hurt: he could sent Nicky and Erik over to Christmas for the summer.
“What’s something you’ve never given anyone?” Andrew inquired.
Neil looked up from under his ruby-tinted lashes. “What?”
“I want something that no one else has.” Andrew leaned further forward, leaning in close. “What do you have to offer me, Wesninski?”
For a moment, Neil simply stared. His fingers stilled. He definitely had a few tattoos and scars, from what Andrew could glean at the little slice of a sharp collarbone, exposed by the jumpsuit.
It was silent - almost electric. Andrew watched as something behind Neil’s eyes crumbled, the exhaustion settling in, the loneliness of a man who had known nothing but pain and suffering and isolation.
“Everyone knows Nathaniel Wesninski,” Neil said. “No one knows Neil.”
Andrew felt the remnants of a smirk tug at the corner of his lips.
“I’ll tell you the truth,” Neil offered, glaring at the table like it offended him. “I’ve never told the truth before.”
Andrew stood up, offering his hand. Neil followed suit, grip hesitant where he clasped Andrew’s hand.
“I’ll get you out of here,” Andrew said.
“You’ll try,” Neil corrected him.
“Here’s something you should know about me, Neil,” Andrew tugged on his suit jacket, fixing his cuffs. “I never fail a promise.”
Andrew felt Neil’s gaze, watching him as he left. As Andrew filtered past the guard, he snuck a two hundred into the guard’s pocket.
“Nine o’clock, tomorrow morning,” he said. “Bring him here.”
The guard, moon-eyed, just nodded.
Andrew glanced over his shoulder for one last assessment of his newest client. Neil was leant against the table they had spoken at, arms crossed as he glared in Andrew’s direction. His hair flopped forward, masking one eye. Like this, with his tattooed forearms and shoulders and hell-fire hair, he looked dangerous.
In his right hand, he played with his key.
Andrew spun on his heel and left. He knew he’d made the right decision.
Neil Wesninski would get out of jail, if it was the last thing Andrew did.
*
#andreil#andrew minyard#lawyer!andrew#felon!neil#neil josten#all for the game#defence attorneys don't always suck!#aftg#tfc#the foxes#law firm!foxes#david wymack#kevin day#tw: a lil bit of mentioned murder#the tension between them is just#mwah#i love my boys#jem writes
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Love Letters (Arthur x Reader)
Prompt: You find Arthur’s journal and start exchanging notes with him. Fluff ensues.
Word Count: 2,929
—
You push open the door of your Gotham city apartment building, before trudging over to the mailboxes.
“Bills, bills, bills,” you sigh, shoving the unopened letters into your bag. You turn to make your way to the elevator, but something catches your eye. A worn notebook lays on the floor at your feet, words scrawled across every inch of it. Your curiosity gets the better of you, and you can’t help but reach down and grab it.
You let your fingers run over the pages, as your eyes land on what looks to be the last thing written. You almost set the journal back down, not wanting to intrude on the stranger’s personal thoughts. But something about the messy handwriting draws you in.
I just want peeple to see me. I think I would be happyer if I had someone who cared.
Your heart felt heavy for the stranger; there was no way you could pretend that you never saw this. Your hand immediately shuffled around inside your bag, pulling out a pen and getting to work on your note back.
I’m sorry you feel that way. Everyone deserves to be seen. I’m sure you have someone who cares about you, and if not, I’ll be that person.
You read over your words, nodding in approval. You drop the notebook next to the mailboxes, hoping that the man or woman who left it behind will come back for it. As you made your way to the elevator, you couldn’t help the light feeling that washed over you. For once, you felt like you actually did something worthwhile in Gotham.
—
The next day, you were practically buzzing with excitement as you rushed home from work. All you could think about was the journal you found. Had the person read your note? Did they write something back? Did they even notice that the journal was gone? So many questions were swirling through your head, but you didn’t have to dwell on them much longer.
Sitting in almost the exact same place as you left it in, the journal was open to a new page, and another messy note was scrawled across the lines.
I only have my mother. You must not have many peeple to. Why else would you be writing back to a man in a jurnal journal.
Despite yourself, you laughed at the bluntness of the stranger, who you now know is male. A few other residents of the building gave you a look as you chuckled to yourself. With your pen already in hand, you moved to draw a small smiley face on the paper.
:) It’s funny of you to say that. Very bold. It’s nice that you still have your mom. Do you see her often?
P.S. My name is Y/N, what’s yours? If you don’t mind me asking, that is.
Oddly enough, you were looking forward to getting up the next morning to see if your mystery guy would write back. At first, you were sure he would, but the more you thought about it, the more you started second-guessing.
Was asking about his mother too forward? What about asking for his name? After all, this man didn’t know you whatsoever. He has no obligation to tell you anything about his life; however, he did say he was lonely in some regard. You’re just trying to be friendly, you told yourself. If he didn’t want to answer, he didn’t have to. You wouldn’t be disappointed.
—
You were right to tell yourself that you wouldn’t be disappointed. When you took a detour over the mailboxes that morning, you instantly saw a new reply sitting beneath yours from the previous day.
You think I’m funny? I do stand up comedy sometimes. I actully live with my mother here. I take good care of her.
Ps I like your name. My name is Arthur. Arthur Fleck.
Your fingers traced over the man’s name.
“Arthur,” you said out loud to yourself. You liked the way his name sounded, and as strange as it seemed, you felt like his name matched his cute, scribbly handwriting.
I like your name too. Also, you’re a comedian? Now you have to tell me a joke!
You looked over the words, wondering if you should write anything else. He didn’t ask you any questions, but that doesn’t mean you couldn’t tell him anything.
I think it’s great that you take care of your mom, not many people would do that.
You considered adding “you seem like a really nice guy” to the end of your note but decided against it. You’ve already been inquisitive; it’s probably best to hold back a little.
A reply was waiting for you the next morning when you checked back in. While reading it, you couldn’t help but laugh at Arthur’s response.
Why dont canibals cannibals eat clowns? Becus they taste funny.
There was a line of space between the joke he scribbled down and the rest of his note. You glanced down, hanging on to every word that was written on the page. You wondered if he felt the same way while reading what you left him.
Most peeple find it strange that I live with my mother. You said it was great. Thank you for being nice to me Y/N.
Your heart picked up at the use of your name. At the risk of sounding cliché, you can’t remember a time when the mere doodle of your name has caused such a surge of warmth to fill your body.
You felt kind of absurd for feeling like this. You haven’t even met the man. He could be any person in the building, and yet, you still felt drawn to Arthur like he was someone you’ve known forever.
You hastily wrote back to him, deciding to take a bit of a chance with your next move.
No need to thank me, Arthur. I truly think it’s admirable. Oh, and that was a hilarious joke. I’d love to hear it in person sometime.
You knew that was a bold thing to say to him. It has only been four days since you found the man’s notebook, and you’ve already given him a reason to meet with you. You’re absolutely positive you have a high chance of being the next star of a late-night murder mystery documentary. Still, at this point, you couldn’t bring yourself to care.
Pushing the thoughts of Arthur out of your mind, you left for work, hoping to go one day without thinking of your new pen-pal.
—
When you arrived home from work, you were nearly falling over in exhaustion. You just wanted to get back to your apartment and crash in front of the TV. As always, though, you stopped by to read any new messages that Arthur had left. You were surprised to see a rather long entry this time compared to his usual two or three sentences.
I dont understand why you want to talk to me Y/N. You know you are not forced to anser me. I know that you probly dont actully want to meet with me. Thats ok. I enjoy getting your mesages and I want to keep talking. I feel like I have somebody with you around. But I understand if you want to stop. You dont have to lie to me and tell me you want to meet. I will be fine.
For the first time, Arthur’s note didn’t make you smile. Instead, you read through it with a dull ache in your chest. You wished there was some way to prove to him how much you looked forward to this encounter every day. Honestly, it was the only thing you looked forward to these days.
Arthur,
You doodled a little heart next to his name before scratching it out, too nervous about leaving it there.
I have never lied to you, and I never will. I would like to meet sometime, but only when you’re comfortable with that. Until then, we can talk here. I enjoy getting your messages too; they actually make me really happy. I feel like I have a friend in you.
P.S. What’s your favorite color?
The notes between you both went on for another two weeks. Even though your communication was often brief and to the point, you still found yourself craving the disordered, misspelled words from Arthur. Nearly three weeks of knowing him, and you were convinced he was the kindest, funniest, and most selfless man in Gotham. With every new letter in the journal, you felt your control slip away, leaving behind a feeling that you haven’t experienced quite like this.
You liked him. It has only been three weeks, and you liked him.
You tried to reason to yourself that it wasn’t totally crazy to have a crush on Arthur. It’s normal to develop a crush on someone in such a short period; that’s how crushes work. You knew, however, that it wasn’t normal to crush on someone you’ve never even really met. Arthur was nothing but some words on a page right now, but you still couldn’t shake the thought that you knew him.
With each day that passed, you learned something new about him. From his favorite foods to his job at HaHa’s, you found yourself holding on to each fact as if your life depended on it. You briefly wondered if you should take a stop by HaHa’s on your way home from work, but ultimately decided against it. You wanted Arthur to be ready to meet you; you didn’t want to force him to.
After a particularly hard day at work, you sat by the mailboxes, writing furiously about your day.
I hate my job. I hate this apartment. I hate Gotham. The only thing I look forward to is writing with you, but I don’t even know you. Isn’t that pathetic?
You carried on for a whole page and a half about the shitty day you’ve had. You considered tearing it out so Arthur wouldn’t feel required to comfort you, but something kept you from doing so. Arthur has been somewhat open with you; it’s about time you do the same for him.
The next day, you halted to a stop by the mailboxes, seeing the journal laying in its usual location. But next to it, a single blue flower. You slowly made your way over, trying not to get your hopes up.
Y/N Im sorry you are feeling like this. Things in Gotham can be awful sometimes. I have felt like that my hole life. Im starting to feel diferently now that I have you. I hope you feel the same way. I got you this blue flower to cheer you up. Blue means comfort.
You felt your ears burn red, as you picked up Arthur’s gift. You knew how much courage it must have took him to leave something like that for you. The man has told you enough about him for you to picture his bouncing leg and racing heart as he sat the flower down next to his new entry.
This means more than you know, Arthur.
This time, you did leave a little doodle heart next to his name. You knew he would only find it endearing now.
I am incredibly lucky to have found you. You make living in Gotham worthwhile.
You took the flower up to your apartment, knowing that you were going to do whatever you could to keep it alive and well.
If you weren’t sure before, you were now. You really, really liked Arthur. And you kind of, sort of, hoped he liked you too.
—
The next night, you were off early from work. So, after grabbing something quick to eat, you walked back to your apartment in hopes of seeing a new message from Arthur.
When you got inside, you stopped in your tracks. A man with curly, brown locks towered over the journal. Your heart started thumping loudly in your chest as you took in, who you presumed to be, your month-long writing buddy.
“Arthur,” you said quietly, trying not to startle him. He still jumped slightly, almost toppling over from lack of balance. He gave you a confused look, seemingly trying to figure out if he knew you. “It’s Y/N.”
Suddenly, his eyes went wide, and he hurriedly concealed the journal behind his back.
“B-but, I only talk to you in my notebook. W-why are you here? You’ve never been here before,” he said, moving his hands from his chest to his waistline, a gesture you guessed was made to ground himself.
“I know. I’m sorry. I just, I got off work early. I didn’t know you would be here, I swear,” you told him. “If you want me to leave, I understand. I’ll just look at what you wrote later.”
“No.”
“No?”
He finally looked at you—all of you. His eyes roamed from your shoes, all the way to your face before his gaze rested on yours.
“You- you can’t read it. You can’t,” he mumbled.
“But… I’ve been reading everything in there,” you paused before quickly continuing. “Everything you’ve written to me. I haven’t read anything before that! I would never.”
He nods, staying silent.
“Were you going to stop talking to me?” you asked, a little hurt at the insinuation.
“No! I- I could never.”
“Then, why can’t I read what you wrote?”
He looks down at the floor, picking at a part of his sweatpants. “It’s embarrassing.”
“You know I’d never judge you, Arthur, but you don’t have to show me if you don’t want. I can leave, and we can continue writing like this never happened.”
“Okay,” he agrees, and you’re glad to see him meet your eyes once again. He drops the notebook onto the floor, and gives you a wave before taking off towards the elevator. You wait until he’s inside before reaching down and grabbing the book.
His writing, as usual, brings a small smile to your face. It makes your heart flutter that you have a face to put with the name and the messy scribbles.
I checked every word twice in order to get this right. I wanted to make sure I spelled and said everything perfictly perfectly. I know we have known each other for a little bit but youre always on my mind. Just like you said… you make living in Gotham worthwhile. I have a queston question for you. I hope you still want to write after this.
Will you go on a date with me to Pogos? It’s a comedy club. It’s okay to say no.
You bit your lip, nearly drawing blood. The smile threatening to take over your face grew the more times you read over the note. You couldn’t believe the man you just talked to wanted to go out with you. And poor Arthur, who was too embarrassed to tell you that, looked like he wanted to shrivel up.
You scrawled down a giant “yes” under Arthur’s last writing before aimlessly drawing a few hearts around the word. After running upstairs to grab a few things, you came back down to the mailboxes and threw a blanket down on the floor. You were confident that people were going to think you’re crazy, but you weren’t concerned about their opinions. You parked yourself on the blanket and decided to camp out until the next morning when Arthur would, no doubt, be returning.
When the sun did arise, so did your writing partner. You heard the elevator doors screech open, and before you could look, Arthur was standing in front of you gawking.
“Did- did you get evicted?”
You laughed slightly and shook your head. “I was waiting for you.”
“You were waiting for me,” he repeated, looking puzzled and a little nervous.
“Yes. I wanted to be here when you read my response,” you told him. Your heart raced as he carefully took the journal from your hands and looked at it. His brows furrowed, and he looked back at you in astonishment.
“Are you sure? I think you made a mistake,” he dropped the journal and put his hands firmly back onto his chest. “This is not real.”
Your heart sank a little as you took in the distressed man in front of you. “This is real, Arthur. I didn’t make a mistake. I like you.”
“No- no,” his hands went to his head, so you reached out cautiously and took them into yours.
“I like you,” you repeated. “I would love to go on a date with you.”
That seemed to break him out of his episode, and he looked down at your intertwined hands before he broke out into a smile.
“Really? Okay. I’ll write to you and tell you what time to meet me.”
You giggled, debating whether or not to tell him that you didn’t need to write any more now that you knew each other. However, you let him go with a smile on your face and kept your mouth shut. If he wanted to write to you, you’d gladly let him. You were looking forward to seeing what time your scribbly, disordered, writing partner would come up with in your journal.
Your journal, you thought to yourself. You and Arthur’s journal.
You liked the thought of that. Arthur will just have to get used to it.
Turns out, Arthur didn’t have to get used to it. He already was.
#joaquin phoenix#joaquin phoenix joker#joker#joker imagine#joker x reader#joker x you#arthur fleck#arthur fleck x reader#arthur fleck x you
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some thoughts while reflecting on suicidal ideation. just heads up this is really really long lol and i don’t expect anyone to read it i’ve just been jouranling a lot and i decided it was normal and reasonable to share these kinds of thoughts with 2k strangers on tumblr.
btw im fine i prommy im just like venting basically. and pls don’t reblog this it’s embarrassing stream of consciousness crazy talk <3
in the moment when you’re spiraling and feeling completely helpless you can only feel sad. after that moment has passed, it feels like “wow that was fucking dramatic”. it’s like being angry at yourself for thinking that somehow you’re too special to suffer along with everyone else.
a lot of people don’t have it easy. so many people struggle their entire lives why should i be any different? do i think im better than other people?
i just want to tell myself to suck it up. it never works though, inevitably there’s another spiral and im stuck feeling like the saddest little weenie on the whole planet.
suicidal thoughts can seem irrational but it never feels that way in the moment. especially when you’ve dealt with it for so long. half of me tells myself im being stupid and it’s such first world problems but the other half of me is like, it’s always been this way there’s no other way to be.
the annoying thing about suicidal thoughts is that there’s always a little spark of hope. there’s always that devil/angel thing going on where you convince yourself life is meaningless and hopeless and there’s no point in staying but then you’re like well what if this happens and that makes it a little more bearable. for years i would just pray that the dumb little hope spark would just die out already but it hasn’t and it probably won’t no matter how much i’ve convinced myself there’s no point in anything.
it’s human nature to want to survive. your body tries to keep you alive whenever you’re hurt. if you’re bleeding or suffocating or otherwise seriously injured your body is fighting to keep you alive even when you don’t want it to. could you imagine if your body didn’t try to stay alive? like if you got anything worse than a paper cut and you just endlessly bled?
not trying to make it religious. you can if you want, but i don’t really have that belief. what creature doesn’t try to keep itself alive? plants will regrow if a deer nibbles them too much. so yeah if you get hurt your body is gonna try to heal that hurt.
suicide. self harm. trauma. are all hard things to talk about and to hear about. well, everyone always wants the gruesome details but hearing about the thought behind it is way less interesting.
because it sounds really simple that well, people who hurt themselves or who talk about dying are experiencing [quote from the DSM] and yeah but that also makes it seem like they’re being irrational
when you’re really thinking that life isn’t worth living it feels completely rational. you’ve thought of every avenue of trying to live and none of it seems worthwhile and you’re also just fucking tired. it doesn’t seem worth the effort.
life can be really long or it can end unexpectedly. imagining a long life and sometimes you can only see how everything will continue going wrong forever. it’s not just being pessimistic sometimes it’s seeing a pattern in your life where things keep falling apart. sometimes it’s seeing the world around you and feeling like you don’t want to be part of the insanity anymore. and no amount of hand drawn comics with fuzzy blue kittens or memes about all the sunrises you’ll miss can make you feel differently. who cares about the sunrise when you hate waking up everyday? who cares about the sunset when you have nightmares all night?
not saying that there’s no way to help people who are suicidal but that maybe the same approach doesn’t work for everyone. there doesn’t always have to be an approach of trying to find a solution to every concern they have. sometimes if you just let people talk it helps just to say it.
because it feels crazy. you feel like an insane person because who the hell wants to die? who’s that dramatic? at least that’s how it can feel. it’s really alienating and isolating to feel like you can never be honest with anyone because they’ll never see you the same way again. suddenly you’re a fragile little egg and they have to “check in” on you to make sure you haven’t finally cracked. i think it’s possible to keep people safe without making them feel like they’re under a microscope.
obviously it’s hard to listen to someone talk about really heavy stuff and i wouldn’t expect people to always be down for that. sometimes it just helps to know that someone out there even knows that you’re struggling. because it feels so shitty to keep it all inside and maybe you don’t want to talk about it all the time.
it’s not about making your friend group your personal crisis counselors. it always goes back to the idea that it’s not really acceptable to openly talk about struggling and that should change.
it’s a tragedy when anyone feels like they can’t take another day in the world. there are so many things that need to change in order to support people who feel that way because it isn’t always just linked to mental health alone. things like poverty or ongoing abuse can exacerbate it.
people really love true crime. they love hearing ghastly details of abuse and murder. but people can’t face the fallout from things like that. the people left behind after the case is closed who are traumatized. people like to satisfy their morbid curiosity but there’s real people on the other end of that.
there’s no satisfying way to end a conversation about suicide. at least for me idk in the back of my head i’ll probably always feel like life is an opt out kind of experience even if i manage to find ways to make existence bearable. there’s never a perfect answer for everything.
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ilomilo (Midoriya x Reader) Part 2/?
Aaaand it’s here! I’m still trying to ease things in, so that the fluff/romance doesn’t feel too rushed! Let me know what you guys think! And to all the sweet comments: Thank you! I felt really motivated to continue. There’s a lot of angst this chapter too, but next chapter will mostly be FLUFF.
Summary: Your hospitalization is going shockingly well... so well, that any day you’ll be on your way to rehabilitation. You struggle to make sense of your current stance with Izuku, and your guilt... and before things could get anymore tense, you receive an unexpected visitor. (Word Count: <2k)
(Y/N)- your name
(Y/F)- your friend’s name, your pick!
TW: depression, anxiety, negative/intrusive thoughts, rehabilitation, hospitalization
The couple of weeks spent at the hospital were mostly uneventful. However, the staff especially Toga-san helped you in making the time pass a little easier. After so long, your rest had finally started paying off. When you manage to function properly on your own, bearing only the scars to tell your tale, Toga tells you that you would be transferred into rehabilitation soon.
During your recovery, under strict guidelines, your friend came to visit you. They were able to bring your things a little bit at a time, and couldn't help but fawn over you. They thanked you frequently for paying for their care and medication, as you would bashfully try to brush it off. You didn’t have the heart to admit that it wasn’t you, but Midoriya who had paid for everything. You knew damn well that if (Y/F) ever figured out the truth, they would stop at nothing to strangle him, as they “hated handouts”. With you, though, they felt that you were family, and were more susceptible to your kindness.
But as the days came and went, your friend was not able to visit as frequently. You two were able to call each other often, but you couldn’t help but develop a pit in your stomach, anxious and wishing to interact with someone. Any outside interaction during this period was enough to keep your head up, and keep you optimistic for the future.
However there was one thing that would always throw you for a loop, and left you feeling confused and lost; the flowers that Izuku left you. They came in small waves, not too frequently, but enough to where it was noticeable and impressionable on your emotions.
You were flipping through one of the books you read while in recovery, marvelling at the flowers you decided to press. It was a way to keep your hero closer to you, and to keep the memory of his kindness pristine. You had a small array, and you were sure that they all held some special meaning. You also feel your face flush as you pass a particular page, with one of your favorite flowers splayed out before you. He had loved to bring you this one in particular, but you weren’t even sure how he knew this was your favorite… He never so much as came to your room, preferring that a third party deliver them in his stead. On one hand, you’re trying to be considerate, especially taking his status in mind… But with the way he calmed you and held you that night, you wondered if he wanted to actually see you, or keep you in check.
You should be embarrassed as hell, knowing that the #1 hero was taking even THIS much time out of his day to remind you that he’s here for you. But, you couldn't lie to yourself. You craved more from him, and felt that familiar, fluttering feeling surge through your chest.
You remembered him from the good ole high school days, like it was yesterday. And, as thoughts of his young, longing eyes filled your head… you began to tremble. It was so long ago, and yet… here you were, remembering it so vividly…
~~~
Deku had been arguing with you, as you dashed to shake him off of your heels. He saw you with your things, shoved haphazardly in a suitcase as you tried sneaking out of the building undetected. It surely had to have been past midnight, the moon hanging over your heads as it casted long, ominous shadows on the pavement of UA.
“PLEASE, can you just stop following me!!!,” you hiss, as Deku presses forward, ignoring your demands.
“Why are you running from this??? I just want to know why my friend is dropping out! Am I not allowed to know why???” Deku pressed, making your brow knit from frustration. You whip around to face him, and the greenette stumbles to a stop, afraid that he would bulldoze right over you. Your fists were clenched, shaking as you threw down the handle to your large suitcase in frustration.
“You wouldn’t understand, and what I do with my life isn’t your business! You have no right to tell me why I shouldn’t leave!” you spat, as Deku recoiled from your shouting. Deku anxiously throws his hands up, defensively backing up. His voice was raising as much as it could, as he was still timid with confrontation.
“I’m not-- no, I didn’t mean that you can’t leave because I said so!!! I just want to know why you’re suddenly deciding to disappear, without a goodbye or an explanation!!!”
You watch as Deku extends his arm, reaching for you, before you shove him away. It didn’t take you long to rear back, yelling directly in his face,” I DON’T HAVE... TO JUSTIFY. WHY. I’M LEAVING. TO YOU!!! You’re so far up my ass, and I wish you would just trust me when I say that I don’t want to be here anymore!!! That all I want to do is quit before I get my hopes up!!!”
Deku is shaken by your outburst once more, recoiling. You turn away from him, hoping he can’t see your face flush a humiliating, dark scarlet,” I'm not made for this school, Im… not even made for this city, Deku. I’m a foreigner, an outcast… and… I’ve never been the one to excel at anything physically or academically. People like me…. Once we start falling behind, it's... nearly impossible to ever get back up. Do you understand what that feels like?”
You scoff before Deku can retort, huffing from the anger that’s rising in your chest,” Of course you don’t! You’re so special, and smart, and brave--!! You excel at heroics, academics-- and people like me can’t even make a decent mark on exams, experience growth, or even get close to anyone...!”
You grit your teeth as Deku remains silent, fighting the urge to say that you were close to him. You were close, right? After all, you shared so much of yourself with him in winding hallways and crowded common areas. Anyone would have thought so too. And somehow, he had no idea where this anxiety or lack of faith in yourself came from. You continue to rant passionately, your eyes fixated on the pavement and your suitcase.
”Everyone is rising up, getting better, stronger… especially you. There’s…. no way I can keep up as is….,” you forlorn, your hands switching between unwinding and clenching. Deku reaches out to you once more, disregarding how you shoved him before,” …(Y/N)... you can’t be serious, I… out of anyone, you should know that’s not true. You have friends and peers to lean on, and… I-I think you do pretty great when we’re testing, doing combat training… (Y/N), I came from nothing, and I know you did too. I know that it takes so much out of you to be the best, and that you can break at any moment from the pressure… But the payoff is way too good to give up! I know you secretly feel that way too!” His voice quivers as you try to dismiss his kind words, slamming your eyes shut in disdain and protest.
“Please, just… come back inside… Tomorrow, first thing, we can make a change. Let’s make you a counselor’s appointment! Maybe even try changing your course! You can go at your own pace, and you don’t have to compare yourself to anyone else, especially me. You don’t even have to be in the heroics course to--”
You harshly slap his hand away,” Don’t you get it?!” you snap, venom dripping from your words. You thought that Izuku, out of everyone you knew, would understand where you were coming from: why you wanted to be a hero. But this was like talking to a brick wall.
“I’M-- I’m… done, ‘Zuzu… This is the end of the line for me. I know that with this… this stupid, non combatant quirk… and my lack of strength, agility, or even mental capacity... *sigh* I know that they’re going to hold me back, indefinitely. I’ve stagnated, and I’m not able to make any progress past where I am now... Whatever peak I had, in general… that’s… all gone now. I can feel my chances slipping, and I just… I just can’t sit here and take the failure. And I can’t breathe while the walls are closing in on me. I don’t want to lose… I don’t want to give up… but it’s easier than living in misery because I’ll never be good enough…”
Deku feels his heart sink as he hears you sniffling, holding back the flood gates as you hastily wipe away fresh, hot tears. He had no idea that this was how you felt, and that your mental health was so skewed against yourself.
“ All I have left is… my friend, back home… (Y/F). I have no hobbies that are worthwhile… I can’t contribute to society, and I can’t make a good name for myself. The only thing that can keep me here is them, and…” You swallow a hard lump that formed in your throat, remembering how your friend had started showing signs of being ill,”...and they have no reason to keep lying to me. I have no reason to lie to myself, just to keep falling flat on my face. If I’m getting anywhere in life… it starts… by figuring it out on my own.”
You hastily grab your luggage, walking away briskly. You were dropping out, and there was no stopping you.
“ (Y/N)! I… I can’t pretend that I completely understand your reasoning, and that I support you leaving UA behind!” Deku blurts, following behind you swiftly.
“But I can say that I have felt the way you feel right now… Maybe we aren’t… exactly in the same position… but I was hopeless before I pursued my dream and made it into UA. A campus like this... It’s-- so full of opportunity. You can thrive here, get second chances, and chart a future that you want for yourself and the people you care about. Please… we can talk about this. I… I don’t want to patronize you, but… I… I don’t think you should give up your whole school career, your future... over setbacks, no matter how big or small.”
Your steps start to slow down, and you let Deku catch up to you, still headed towards the front gate. Deku thinks he’s getting through to you, and continues rambling,” I know you’ve been disappointed, and you haven’t made as much progress as you’ve wanted… but there’s so much time left! So much time to learn and grow. There’s room to change and switch around things! UA isn’t always for everyone, but… I really think you belong here! Out of so many people I’ve met here, you have one of the purest mindsets on being a hero, and how much it means to you!”
You tense up, pausing as Deku talks directly to you,” I’m… so sorry that I just now realized how badly you were hurting, and your struggle to be better. I wish… I wish I could have figured out, and found a way to help you more, before you… felt this awful about yourself… But you have people here that want to see you make it! Everyone is rooting for you! You… you have me...r-rooting for you.”
You felt your chest clench as he continues, your cheeks continuing to glow a deep red. He was too kind… he had too much faith in you. He has no idea… how long you’ve wanted to leave UA behind.
“ And if it meant you staying, and chasing the dream you wanted-- what you told me you wanted-- then I’d do what I could to show you that you are so much more than your grades, your performances, and your Quirk!” Deku practically shouts, his fists clenched as he looks to you firmly, with unshakeable hope.
Your eyes threaten to release new tears, but you bite your lip to distract yourself. You have to suppress the urge to yell at him again, or embrace him. You feel Deku placing a hand on your back, trying to offer you a smile,” ...there’s so much left that you haven’t even tried or experienced yet… you have strengths that are different than anyone else’s… I know that... YOU know that. So let the school, and your friends... help you find where your talents are. L-Let… let me help you, a-and I’m sure, somehow--”
You suddenly jab him with your elbow, shoving him off and away from you. Deku recoils, seemingly hurt physically and emotionally. You couldn’t bear to glance behind you and witness the sorrowful, pained expression in his eyes.
“ I...I already made up my mind, d--... don’t you dare patronize me. I don’t-- I never ASKED for your help.” You reach down to pick up your luggage, making a beeline for the school gates,” Goodbye, Zu--...Midoriya-kun... I’m sorry, but I can’t look back. I’m taking the first train home,” you spat quietly, continuing to walk away.
Deku, still recoiling from the jab in his ribs, can’t help but reach for you again. You hear a quiet, heavy-hearted waver in his voice as he calls for you. It took you mere moments to scramble past the barrier/front entrance of the school. This was planned for weeks, Deku realized, and you knew just exactly how to weasel your way past the security measures. The only thing that held you back was the right time to slip away.
If you dared to look, you would have seen nothing but tears, as Deku watched you briskly disappear into the night.
“Senpai…”
~~~
You are reeling from your dissociative state, feeling guilty that that was how you repaid him for trying to help you. Look at you now, breaking the law… and he still came for you, a criminal who critically hurt several people. He saved you, and paid for everything, despite you ghosting him and your dreams completely.
Your spiral into negativity is cut short by an intruder, Toga’s voice ringing in your ear,” Dinner’s here~”
You barely move a muscle as Himiko rolls a cart your way, bringing you a fresh, hot meal. She smiles warmly as she sets everything on your lap, propping your head up with another pillow.
“I figured I should tell you the good news~ You’ll need to eat and get to bed early, because you’re rolling out tomorrow!” Toga blurts, clapping her hands together excitedly. You blink for a moment, distracted from your intrusive thoughts,” I...thought that soon would mean like… next week?” you say, puzzled. However, Toga just smiles and shakes her head.
“Because you turned around so quickly: the doctor already went through your files and gave you the stamp of approval to be discharged! Maybe it’s a little sudden, but really, you’re going to LOVE the facility! I can’t be happier for y--”
Toga trails off mid sentence, noticing your head hanging low, a look of regret and guilt swimming in your eyes. She frowns slightly, tilting her head,” I… I know it’s a bit rushed, and still very nerve-racking, but… I can promise you that the people there, the people you’ll talk to and bond with… are actually wonderful. It’ll be so much better for you than being cooped up in bed,” she offers gently. You shake your head, smiling sadly.
“I uhh- no, it’s great! It means I can get back on my feet and home sooner, but… I just wish (Y/F) could have visited again. Or…,” you gulp, not wanting to admit that you wished you could see Deku, and thank him for everything. Toga senses what you’re trying to keep to yourself, smiling sadly,” Ohh, you’re thinking of the flower guy, huh? Your benefactor?”
Your nose scrunches up at the odd description. He was more than that to you, wasn’t he? He wasn’t some distant acquaintance, just a good-ole-hero doing heroic things… No… no, he had to have meant more, and you meant a lot to him… right? But why do you care, and why were you so suddenly enamored with him again?!
Himiko hums in acknowledgement, shifting her weight to her other hip,” I’ll tell you what. If you eat your entire dinner, I can try and call (Y/F)-san and see if they can make it before visitation hours end. And… while I haven’t really seen Flower Man’s face, I can try and ask the front desk for a name. Surely he had to sign in so he could drop those flowers off for you.”
Your shoulders relax, your eyes brightening at the kind offer,” Yeah… actually, that would be really nice. Even just calling them, or… trying to call… h-him… would be nice,” you admit softly, causing Toga to beam down to you.
Toga chuckles, mocking a small salute to you,” Say no more~ I’ll let you eat, and I’ll go ahead and see what I can dig up in the meantime!” Toga chimes, causing you to chuckle and smile crookedly at her. For a nurse, who had to deal with patients and illness day to day… she still had an almost childish, bubbly quality to her. Like she was unphased by her difficult job.
“Th-Thanks, Toga-san. I really appreciate what you do for me,” you remark, making Toga flush ever so slightly. She nods to you, pulling the cart backwards and swiveling it towards the door, with the intent to leave.
“Awww, so sweet~ Well, I know you’ve been lonely lately, so any way I can help a patient is a-okay in my book--” Himiko panics and brings her cart to a screeching halt, having almost hit a nurse who was standing in the doorway. The nurse clears his throat, eyeing Toga with a hint of annoyance,” Toga-san, try to be more careful, will you? …*ahem* Now, (Y/N)-san. You have an unexpected visitor. They didn’t book their visitation in advance, so I’m sure you know that this is usually not allowed. However, they said that they wanted to see you before you were transferred. The visit will be granted, with your consent.”
You blink in confusion, raising a brow. You couldn’t help the small smile that bubbled to the surface” A… visitor? Ahh, yeah, that’s no problem. I really appreciate it sir, you can tell them that--”
You halt mid sentence as a man walks up to join the male nurse, wearing baggy, black athletic gear with green accents. He’s also sporting large red sneakers, and a matching baseball cap. He takes a moment to remove a pair of sunglasses off of his face, revealing rich, forest green eyes and freckled, flushed cheeks. He pulls a small bouquet of flowers from behind his back, looking at you sweetly. Your favorite flowers stared back at you as your jaw fell open, shocked. The male nurse seems unphased by the fact that he was standing next to Deku.
“S-Sorry for the late notice… may I come in?,” Izuku asks you, his voice smooth, and a little deeper than you had expected it to be.
You and Toga share looks of disbelief. Neither of you expected anyone, especially THIS MAN, right now. Toga’s face instantly becomes a dusty rose, as she backs away from the doorway, unobstructing Deku’s path. Deku gives her a courteous wave, making Toga’s shoulders relax oh-so slightly.
The two nurses look directly to you, waiting for your response as Deku wears a cavity-inducing smile. You can’t help but choke on your own words, as if gasping for air,” N-No! I mean-- no, I don’t mind if you do…! You can-- yeah, you can come in!” you practically squawk, ashamed that you had that much difficulty speaking.
Toga and the other nurse watch as Midoriya Izuku walks in shortly after, pardoning himself to get past the nurses. He nods to you, setting the flowers on your bedpost, before sitting in the guest chair beside your bed. You feel dizzy as you fixate on Deku in pure disbelief. Meanwhile, he cocks his head toward the male nurse,” Thank you for allowing this. I really appreciate it.”
The male nurse nods gingerly to Deku, before he clears his throat again. Himiko jumps, understanding the signal to give you two some space. She shakes her head, pulling off a strained, surprised smile,” U-Uhh, right! You have about 20 minutes, before I have to escort you back up front. I’ll be back to check on you and take your tray, (Y/N)-chan,” Toga sputters, before following the male nurse with her cart.
Before the door can properly shut, a door stop is wedged into place, keeping it ajar. But right now, you couldn’t tear your eyes away from Deku. Your face was heating up substantially as you struggled to comprehend how and why Midoriya was here. You swallow nervously, a singular thought crossing your mind: and then.... there were two.
#midorya x reader#midoriya izuku x reader#bnha x reader#angst#slight fluff at the end#tw: depression#tw: anxious thoughts#tw: anxiety#tw: intrusive thoughts#tw: hospital#tw: rehab
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just reflecting on some personal growth stuff from last year !
im actually. genuinely okay. like i think im starting this year feeling okay! which is atypical.
i think i can attribute it to the enormous amount of work id put into myself over the past year...i remember one year ago being extraordinarily depressed and really just. high strung? incredibly anxious but exhausted. and i fell down a descent slowly from not eating, to getting really irritable and not handling conflicts with friends well, to actively self harming again, to the point where i remembered sitting in a coffee shop with one of my friends and saying out loud that i need to go to therapy. and that i was going to talk to a mutual friend of ours about how the therapy services on campus are. which was a huge step for me! ive always had trust issues with therapy services since i was 12 for reasons i wont go into, but im sure you can gather the point of.
and then, literally the next day after saying that, got news about campus shutting down because of the virus.
and i made all of the effort possible to reach out to my friends and get things figured out to weather the storm because i KNEW shit was going to get bad if i didnt. but only one of my friends was really keeping up, and thats because he and i do homework together so we were already in a rhythm of talking every single week no matter what. and thats not to say that im ungrateful for him or the fact that even still he was there for me while i was going through hell, i have this thing about Not Putting All My Problems On And Confiding In One Person And One Person Only. so i withdrew, i stopped talking to everyone, i stopped logging into my classes, i didnt do any homework, i didnt lead my workshops, didnt hold office hours...i was just wallowing in my own misery
and i made plans to kill myself. and thats like, i mean i could say that several dozen times over the course of a year since i was like 12, but i mean a legitimate walkthrough plan. had my hiking bag packed with everything i was going to use, decided where i was going to, and was going to prep myself for it. wrote drafts and drafts of suicide notes until i decided just leaving the contact info of people who needed to know asap was all i was going to leave. in addition to sticky notes on some stuff in my room for what needed to be returned to who, or if something should go to someone in particular...
and i acted as normally as i could around my housemates. attributed my not leaving my room much to being busy with classes. i have a rule to myself to always sleep at least one night before killing myself because if im really serious about going through with it it can always wait one day. this time i decided i was going to clean my room and leave it as pristine as possible. the last thing i had to do was a load of laundry, and then i was going to do it.
and then someone from campus showed up at my door. because one of my professors filed a report and i hadnt responded to any of the emails id received checking in on me.
so i readjusted. caught up on my schoolwork, just barely finished the semester and definitely didnt do it strong or well (god bless the pass/fail option bc of covid LOL), but i did it nonetheless. went home, started my internship, had a miserably mundane summer.
i grew bitter and apathetic. i was angry at my friends for not being responsive when i reached out to them to talk or hang out or do anything. i got tired of dealing with it. i was tired of feeling alone and like no one gave a shit about me except for when it was convenient for them. i decided that i wasnt going to deal with people who werent willing to put any effort into me, so i stopped talking to everyone and kept up with people who were willing to reach out after the fact.
it’s definitely not the best approach. it’s really unforgiving and it doesn’t give people a lot of benefit of the doubt, but i think it was necessary in some respect. i didn’t have any criteria for how people needed to reach out, or how long after, or whatever, just that they did. really needed people in my life who are willing to communicate with me. i was honest with how i was feeling and why i did things if they did, apologized for the shitty approach, thanked them for still being willing to talk to me, and worked out the best way for both of us to keep things going.
over the months i dont think i really regret the decision, because it’s been a weight off my shoulders. i feel a lot better. i’m far more okay with where i stand in all of my friends’ lives, even if that’s not as a priority and even if that’s as just someone to talk to and catch up with like a couple times a year. it took a bit for it to pay off but it’s nice to take a look at people i was putting far too much work into and upon reflection realizing that they only interacted with me when they needed something from me, and not for me as a person. i think there are still people where there are loose ends and i think i may try reaching out myself to tie those up at some point, whenever i have the energy and clarity of mind for it. but i guess at the end of the day i just decided that people who weren’t willing to communicate weren’t worth the time. i’m okay if that communication means i need to be the one to initiate conversations even! i just need to know that.
but yeah. i came back to ny and started the semester totally apathetic and angry. i was so fucking depressed and bored with everything even if i was keeping myself incredibly busy. the only thing that i found rewarding (and what was just barely keeping me going) was leading my workshop for the intro optics class.
and then a friend -- the same friend i was at the coffee shop with -- reached out to catch up. and i was honestly really bitter and angry with him and was prepping myself to start listing out issues that i hadnt been able to address with him beforehand (side note, while telling friends the issues you have with them is important, listing shit out all at once is hardly ever a good approach especially without warning LOL) but ended up...just having a calming and comfortable conversation about what was going on in our lives since we last saw each other.
n later that day i ended up reaching out to an old friend that i had been meaning to catch up with because we fell out of contact, but had just barely been trying to start talking again in the months before this but had kept missing opportunities to properly converse. but we talked again, and we set up a day to hike and catch up.
and he comes to my house and picks me up. and i get in his car. and its like, holy shit, its been almost a year since ive seen you. and we hugged. and just started to catch each other up on the mess that had been our lives since we’d actively been in contact. we hiked, he told me about the books he wanted to write, we talked about people we knew, we talked about politics, we talked about school, we talked about life, and it was just as comfortable as if not a day had passed...even though it was obvious that he and i were both changed people over the past year. nothing about our friendship was any different though.
we resolved to hanging out with each other every week. decided we both needed the interaction, appreciated having each other around, and had a nice overlap of free time in the week that worked well. friday nights unless otherwise specified.
it was totally unexpected. he’d always been a great friend to me, but i never expected us to get as close as we did. neither did he. he’s probably the first person in my life (or at least in a very long time, and certainly the only person at the time) that i’d been so comfortable with that i practically had no boundaries around. none that needed to be addressed, anyway, because the only possible ones to throw up wouldn’t even come up (but of course, i constantly reassured that as soon as anything came up i would let him know because early on he kept asking sjhdkjfh).
he became something for me to look forward to in the week. towards the beginning he was a shoulder to lean on when i needed it and was willing to listen to things i hadn’t been able to tell anyone out loud. and he confided in me as well. it was comfortable. it was safe. it was a level of trust with vulnerability that i’d never shown anyone else.
but it wasnt even just that! it was fun! hes so fun. we could talk about everything and nothing, and hes one of the only people where i feel like i have to keep up with him in conversation instead of the other way around. we’d jump from topic to topic so much faster than either of us could think and it was all always so interesting. littered with humour that was just dumb and simple. i felt comfortable just being an idiot with him. i felt like i had nothing to prove.
for the past few years ive held to the sentiment that i like to hang around with people that make me a better person. but somehow, with him, its not that i felt like he made me a better person, but that he made me more myself. he saw who i was without any kind of fronts. and i always was afraid to show anyone that me because i always assumed that they would be depressing, loathsome, bitter, angry, and vicious.
but....i’m not. i learned that i’m incredibly loving. that i’d do fuckin anything to for my friends, but always in a way that was healthy and rewarding for both of us. i’m very light-hearted and my sense of humour is so stupid, but also very analytical and thoughtful. just a bit judgmental and pretentious, but always for things that people dont expect. totally open minded in discussions. an avid explorer, and a bit of a thrillseeker. and so, so, so affectionate.
i realized im. not as horrible as ive always made myself out to be. i accepted that i didnt need to punish myself for things beyond my control. i realized that i could believe people when they tell me that they enjoy my company, or appreciate things i do for them, or that they think i’m a worthwhile person to keep around.
its not that i dont have my flaws, its not that there arent things that i have to work on still. but maybe, at my core, i’m not actually motivated by spite, i’m not actually a hopeless pessimist, and that i’m not...broken. i’m not some secretly irredeemable monster.
and for a period of time i’ve been in a place where i could say i was genuinely...happy! and i don’t think i’ve ever been able to say that. i’ve certainly been made happy by doing things with friends in the past, i’ve been through periods where i’ve been okay with where i am at in life, but ever since i was like 12 (but probably even before that) i’d never been able to say that i was happy. it’s not that i wasn’t stressed, it’s not that things in my life were all going perfectly....but they didn’t define my mood. they didn’t define my view of myself. school, despite being the primary focus of my life, wasn’t dictating how i was feeling. even when things were agonizing and depressing because of school, i was still okay. i was incredibly stable.
and i owe that all to him being there for me. and hardly any of these things were anything that he was really directly responsible for, like its not that he sat there and just constantly showered me in reassurance and praise or anything that changed how i view myself...it was just having his company. it was just being able to sit there and listen to him go on about some totally random thing that he was exceptionally knowledgeable about. it was exploring caves and climbing hills. it was cooking together. it was talking about science. it was talking about love. it was talking about music. it was just having a consistent presence in my life, someone that treated me like a priority but never at the expense of himself, and someone i didn’t have to walk on any kind of eggshells around. it was someone who trusted me and respected me not by anything id done to warrant it, but just because of who i was.
it was a reminder that i can take care of my own problems, that i just need to be a good presence in someone’s life and for them to be a good presence in mine.
but also that i can accept help from people who genuinely want to offer it! and that that help doesnt always have to be direct. that sometimes helping me means i get to do something nice for someone else LOL
it was everything i ever needed and i wasnt even looking for it. he meant the world to me and i was so, so thankful for the circumstances that led us here because i was so happy to have him in my life again. i was happy that we were able to get closer because we’d only been able to interact in professional environments before.
and then i realized i was in love. and i had a sexuality crisis. but i didn’t recognize it until i fell hard because it was a different kind of love than i’ve felt for anyone before. it was intense but entirely too comfortable. but i knew that i cared about him, and that he cared about me, and that i really didn’t need anything about our friendship to change but that it had potential to be something even greater than it was.
and i resolved to tell him about it...until he told me first. and that moment was, as cheesey as it sounds, nothing less than magical. we were both so happy and giggly and it was so sweet and warm and i dont know if im ever going to be able to recreate that feeling because it was just so particular, so specific to being something between me and him. its not that i cant love anyone else as strongly or be as happy as i was necessarily, but it’ll never be that same kind of feeling.
but things happened. things got complicated. i think he panicked. and then things that happened just felt so dirty and hollow and dark. he hurt me really, really, really badly, and it managed to happen in the span of four days.
and i’ve spent the last <2 weeks dealing with it. i think he’s dealing with it in his own ways, but realistically i don’t know how because i havent seen him since christmas eve, and we were both definitely not being completely genuine that day. was at his house for a small family party and he and i were the only ones who knew what happened. it was too soon to have healed from it any, but we couldnt exactly be honest about it then either.
and im doing better. im genuinely okay now. and, interestingly, i think i owe it to the past few months of hanging out with him and how ive been able to come to terms with a lot of things about myself. ive been able to show myself compassion. its really ironic.
its a situation where i was desperately trying to throw blame onto myself for, because if i could then i could punish myself for it and use it to fuel that deep rooted self hatred and then i could fix it, because i’d be the one responsible for fixing it. but, and i’ve talked to quite a few friends about it trying to figure out who to confide in about it, everyone who knows about it insists that i cant blame myself for it. theres not a thing about the situation that i can blame myself for. and its so fucking weird, because i cant bring myself to fully blame him for it either, just because it was so ABSURDLY out of character that it doesnt feel like it was anything he could have done to me. it was a boundary that i wasnt ever supposed to worry about him crossing, because he’s just not that kind of person.
and it’s the type of situation that you’re supposed to totally be willing to cut someone off for but...i can’t. he’s genuinely remorseful and i think he doesn’t really know how to deal with it either. and despite it being a massive fuck up its still like...the first fuck up in our friendship from either of us. and i’m willing to see this through. i think it’s salvageable, even if it’ll never be the same as it was. i have faith in our friendship. i think we can make it work.
but no matter what happens. i owe him more than i’ll ever be able to repay him for. and i’ll never, ever be able to hate him because of that. i’m in a much, much better place because of him and for that i’ll always be thankful.
#shut up mega#this ended up being longer and more in depth abt the earlier half of the year than i meant it LOL#a summary of my 2020 i spose#also there's some kinda detailed talk of#suicide ment -#self harm ment -#IM CRYING AFTER WRITING THIS OUT LMAOOOO
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Hakuoki Short Story: Saito-san’s Days of Practice
First translation posts of the month (1 of 2 for translations +1 update [that one will not be tagged with hakuoki]), so please support me if you can either on ko-fi (https://ko-fi.com/V7V2W0HO) or through paypal (paypal.me/KumoriYami )…. also let me know if you have any hakuoki drama cds that you’d be willing to share that are on my looking for list since i don’t have the audio for those…..
In regards to this translation, I honestly don’t know where this short story came from, but I’ve assumed that it showed up in one of the Dengeki or B-log magazines as they, in the past, have had other various Hakuoki short stories in them....I think? If anyone has information in regards to this, I’d appreciate it to put that down here....
Aside from Saito’s story, I’ve only been able to find Chinese translations for Souji and Heisuke for these (don’t have a timeline on those right now, cuz holy shit these feel extreeeemely long. seriously!).... and have no intention of looking for the others at the moment (i gave up after more than an hour). If anyone does happen to find the others in Chinese... feel free to send them my way since I will add those to my list of torturous translations (i don’t wanna update my lookout list rn + plus I don’t want to add these to that list without knowing where these come from).
Anyway, this story is told from Chizuru’s point of view, also the image is not mine.
Enjoy~<3
Hakuoki Short Story - Saito-san’s Days of Practice
Translation by KumoriYami
The silence of the temple was disturbed by the sound of Saito-san slicing the air with a wooden sword. He repeated his movements smoothly, from top to bottom, [then] from left to right.
During this quiet morning, after hearing the sound of sword practice in the temple as I was heading to the kitchen to prepare breakfast, I couldn't help but stop.
"Ah......Saito-san?"
“Yukimura, today you woke up early? Are you going to prepare breakfast?”
"Yes, Saito-san, you are also up early."
Before my arrival, Saito-san had been practising for a while, [and] his cheeks were sweaty. I handed him the handkerchief I had with me to him, tilting my head as I asked:
“Why are you practising so early? What's the matter? [alt: Is there anything going on/something wrong?]”
“Yes, I was thinking about something.”
“Thinking about something?”
“A few days ago, vice-commander asked me to train some of the new recruits..... but I don't know what training arrangements should be made.
Saito-san frowned slightly and continued to speak.
From his words, it sounded as if the new warriors who joined [the Shinsengumi] had good swordsmanship.
“Sword skills can be ordinarily improved through normal training, but mental capabilities are different to improve, [and/but I] don't know of any good methods to improve them.”
"A good method...."
Early morning birds chirping echoed in my ears, I looked over the Nishi Honwanji temple courtyard together with Saito-san thinking of his concerns.
After thinking for a moment, I clasped my hands together and spoke:
"Ah, I have heard that the monks of Nishi Honwanji usually sit in meditation to improve their minds.
"Indeed, meditation can really improve/hone a person's mind. However, merely siting in meditation does not seem adequate, and something else must be done."
------------
Regardless of if it's plants [says trees] or animals, all living things will hide themselves until spring as it was winter
The wind blowing off the river wasn't just cold, but painful.
Just breathing made my throat feel frozen.
——Even so, today Saito-san was only wearing a single strip of cloth [fundoshi... probably?], tightly holding his arm(s) [probably: tightly crossing his arms], quietly looking down towards the torrential waterfall before us.
"Sai-saito-san, you truly want to sit underneath that waterfall?
Yes, since ancient times to the present, when it comes to mediation, it's best to use a waterfall.
"But, the weather is so cold, you might die accidentally...."
If there is no risk to one's life, then it will not be training.
Saito-san nodded seriously, then went towards the cold river. The moment his toe touched the water, Saito-san shook violently. I was absolutely not imagining it.
Saito-san continued his movements, obviously stiffly because of the cold.
I worriedly called out to him:
"Saito-san, d-don't do this....."
"It's okay, do not worry."
"But......"
"Do not worry."
Saito-san whispered to himself, then showed no hesitation as he put one foot into the water.
He used his frozen legs to wade through the river and after, moved underneath the waterfall without hesitation.
"If, if only one's mind [thinks it] is cold, [then] even fire can be [thought of as] cold...... [the tl i saw had the word “cold” in place of where I put in “fire”, and the 2nd 'cold’ that I wrote as “fire/hot,” so I switched these around]
Saito-san endured waterfall falling down on his head, softly/gently [slowly] closing his eyes.
「……」
“No, no [don't do this] Saito-san! Now that you've meditated, hurry up and get out, or you really will catch a cold."
「……」
"......Saito-san?"
「……」
"Saito-san? Saito-san——"
------------
"Therefore/as a result/so, in order to improve one's willpower/mind, not only meditation, but also doing that beneath a waterfall [will help]?
"That....the last part is too dangerous..."
"It was only because the water was so cool and comfortable, that I almost fell asleep.”
Almost froze to death—— though that could not be said, I was once again made aware of the present.
"Now that it is no longer winter, it is now longer possible to ind a cold waterfall."
"Yes. other methods to practice need to be thought of."
What other ways were there? We fell into deep contemplation again.
The time, the first who thought [of something] was Saito-san.
"It would better to go into the mountains to live in seclusion, this is also [a] basic [form of] training."
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Through the roof made/built of tree leaves and branches, the familiar sunlight, only the sound of birds from the quiet mountain roads/paths, shrouded [the area] with a tranquil/quiet atmosphere.
[Alt (since my ^ tl for this was more literal): The sunlight passing through the roof made of tree leaves and branches and the sound of birds chirping on the mountain paths created a tranquil atmosphere.][also im guessing they built a shelter?]
[We have] Been living in seclusion in the mountains for [a few] days [now].
Saito-san and I were living(/surviving) in the mountains by picking wild vegetables, and fishing to eat.
"......[I] Really didn't think/expect that it would be so quiet."
"Yes..... Saito-san, is this also a form of practise/training?
"In a sense, there is no type of training stricter/more rigourous than this, than/with just the two of us living secluded in the mountains."
"Eh?"
I couldn't help but make a sound as I looked at Saito-san, however I didn't understand why he looked away.
Then while not looking at me, whispered.
"I mean, there is nothing here, I don't know if you're bored being together with me......"
"There is no such problem, I like being together with Saito-san."
"Is, is that so? That's good... Well, actually, me being together with you also...." [alt: being together with you, I also...]
Just now [he] said——
Saito-san's voice was muffled by another noise, [one] that suddenly [started] coming from the rustling of the nearby bushes.
The sounds coming from the bushes got louder and louder, until finally, it turned into the low roar of a wild beast.
I immediately assumed a defensive position, [and] at this moment, I saw a giant beast with sharp claws appear.
"Sai-saito-san, there's a bear! Quick, run away/get out of here!"
I hurriedly pulled at Saito-san's sleeves, trying to pull him so that we could escape together, but I don't know why he wanted to continue what he was saying to me, and did not move.
「……」
It absolutely wasn't because of fear that he refused to budge.
Because he was glaring straight at the bear with a terrible look.
"Yukimura, retreat."
"Are-are you going to fight it? You might not be a bear's opponent...."
"Encountering these type of circumstances should be avoided, [alt?: Coming across /having such an opportunity is rare,/This situation was supposed to be a retreat/ I was supposed to be getting away from these types of situations,] but I am suddenly, no, I am very angry."
[^ if you can’t tell, i had looots of difficulties with the first half of this, lol. so I just put down all my interpretations... though I'd assume it's probably more along the lines of: Having such an opportunity (with you) is rare, so I am suddenly...]
Saito-san looked straight at the bear with a sharp gaze and put his left hand on his katana's hilt, emitting killing intent/a murderous aura, as if the bear was a punching bag.
"Living in seclusion in the wilderness requires fighting a bear——Prepare to die, bear."
[may say: To live (in seclusion) in the mountain wilderness is to fight a bear/means fighting a bear]
------------
".....Well, we can discuss about how else to hone/improve one's mind/willpower. Will it/should it need to involve fighting bears?
Ordinary humans should not be able to defeat bears, but Saito-san is not without the possibility of winning. With these types of thoughts, I lowered my head.
"Disregarding minor details, we cannot be away from headquarters for long, [and] living in seclusion in the mountains is not realistic.”
"Yes, to hone your mind/will, you shouldn't need to go living in seclusion in the mountains."
Once again, our thoughts were disrupted, [and] we sighed, together looking towards the sky again.
"[This is] Really difficult. Is there an effective training method that doesn't require [a lot of] time?"
Thinking about this general idea, I thought:
"Nn.....what about fasting? A few days ago, Heisuke-kun, Harada-san, [and] Nagakura-san didn't eat anything for the entire day, [and were] so hungry that they cried."
"Fasting? This sounds worthwhile, though I do not know its effectiveness."
After hearing this, I suddenly remembered, this talk about eating——
"Ah, that's right! I need to go make breakfast!"
“Sorry, I have kept you for so long. What is for breakfast today?"
"Turnip soup, [and] Kyoto-styled cooked vegetables [lit: Kyoto cooked vegetables]. Although it's yesterday's leftovers, the taste is very rich and is very delicious."
Ghrgh....
Saito-san responded to what I said with his stomach, which sounded like the stomach of a hungry animal.
"........It appears that my training is insufficient, [and that] I must correct what I said as fasting appears to be an effective form of practice/training."
Saito-san turned his head and blushed because of his stomach's gurgling.
I responded with a smile and looked away.
"Breakfast will be ready soon, please wait a moment."
"Today I'll help you cook, as thanks to you for speaking with me."
"Ah......okay, I'll be troubling you Saito-san!"
Saito-san spoke as he quickly walked forward, and I hurried to catch up.
the end
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The title of this might actually be Day of Practice instead of plural days... but I left it at days since I think it made more sense.... Unfortunately, identifying if something is either singular or plural in Chinese isn’t the easiest thing to do unless there’s more context.... and titles certainly lack that. Nouns without context... it’s like they’re all like the word ‘moose’ (only English comparison I can think of off the top of my head atm...). It’s both singular and plural and without further information, it’s impossible to figure out if one moose is being talked about or multiple moose....
^I only wrote this blurb cuz i spent a good 5 min pondering about what the title should be lol. Using day sounds better, and I’m kinda particular about how the way things both look and sound, but days did make more sense.....
^^i’m kinda feeling random rn... and i’ve probably had too much sugar just now. tired too. also i don’t have a habit of writing translation notes like this nor do i really intend to do so notes like this again in the future... though perhaps again when im felt like i’ve had too much sugar? lol w/e...
>_<
nother post will be up shortly. tsukikage countdown.
#Hakuoki#Hakuouki#Saito Hajime#Hakuoki Other Translation#Hakuoki Short Story Translation#Yukimura Chizuru
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RFA + V+ Saeran Acting As a Guardian to Teenage! MC
A/n: Have some headcanons to soothe the pain I just caused
Under the cut since it’s a long one! MC is about 16 in this one!
Also: might include some spoilers!!!
Yoosung
Finally, he wasn’t the youngest anymore!
He was so excited to meet you and honestly he was all sunshine and rainbows as he talked about how you were like a little sibling to him
So gushing and doting, he’s more of an older sibling than a parental figure, but he still does it so well
Always brags to his guildmates he has the best sibling ever, and he will fight (and lose horribly) to anyone who tries to say otherwise
Very concerned over you since you’re so young and caught up in the RFA’s mishaps.
So proud of anything you do, even getting out of bed makes him cheer for you
Always cooks for you, anything you want, he’ll make for you.
He won’t admit it until he’s at his worst- when the depression and the grief from losing Rika really gets to him- but he looks up to you. He kinda gets jealous of how young and talented you are (even if you don’t think so), and wishes to become better so you have someone actually worthwhile to look up to (in his mind).
He doesn’t seem to think that you like him, he still assumes he’s a bit of a nuisance and someone else could be better. You however, love him a lot and value his presence in your life. You don’t think you would’ve been as motivated without his help!
Sometimes he can get a bit irresponsible and you need to drag his butt to bed so he doesn’t game so much.
Taking care of you has been a roller coaster for both of you, but he still feels a lot better since you’re here. He has cut down on his bad habits and has slowly grown from his past issues.
If you talk about how you’re going on a date, he’ll cry.
“Waaaaaahhhhhh!!! How are you going on dates before I am????”
He’s supportive though, and makes sure your date actually cares for you. Probably the only one on this list you don’t have to worry about when saying you’re seeing someone
Zen
Okay so the first moment you met him on the messenger, you flipped out.
“ZEN??? AS IN THE ZEN???? JDSFJNAJGNLSJN OH MY GOD CAN YOU STEP ON ME?????”
Jaehee also feels you but outwardly tells you to relax
He goes full on dad mode. He immediately checks himself and everyone else, anything above a ‘g’ rating and he’s flipping out. No more flirting, no more swearing, no more smoking, he’s gotta be a father figure somehow.
Once he cools down, he finds that his paternal instincts come naturally. He is very easy to talk to and is easily your biggest supporter. He wants you to feel confident in yourself and see that he’s got your back no matter what happens, something he didn’t have growing up.
If you say you wanna act or join theater (especially if it’s because of him) he’ll just cry. He’ll sob about how his ‘child’ is the most precious thing in the world.
He’s a straight up PTA dad afterwards, always going to your school when he can and checking up on you.
All the mothers and teachers try to hit on him but he ignores them because his shining little star is there
He goes to all of your shows, all of your concerts, ANYTHING that involves potentially watching you do something, he is there in a second.
After anything, whether you give a speech or a finished a performance, he’s there with a large bouquet of flowers. He’s so proud of you and he feels so enthusiastic about you.
His narcissism drops about 200% because now he’s focused on you. His phone is full of pictures of you and your accomplishments, and after anything he makes sure to say it in the RFA messenger.
He’s really easy to have a heart to heart with because you’re his precious little angel and he’s just as (if not more) emotional as you.
HOWEVER!!! DO NOT!! I REPEAT!!! DO NOT MENTION DATING!!! THIS MAN WILL GO WALK UP TO WHOEVER YOU LIKE/DATING AND WILL GO INTO A FISTFIGHT WITH THEM.
He screams when you mention guys- ‘MEN ARE WOLVES!! THEY ARE HORRIBLE!! THEY ARE DISGUSTING DO NOT EVER DATE!! YOU ARENT ALLOWED TO DATE UNTIL IM DEAD AND YOURE 80!!’
Jumin
So, let’s cut to the chase, you REEALLy liked the fact Jumin was rich.
“Wow, so I DON’T have to starve everyday???”
Jumin is...not the most emotional at first. He is just getting used to having to take care of you so it will be a while before he opens up.
Jumin is great for when you want to rant or need to blow off steam. He doesn’t say anything and just listens to you. However, it’s horrible when you want emotional/physical comfort.
He tries, he really does, but since he grew up so detached with his emotions he immediately thinks you’re dramatic. It isn’t until Jaehee (and perhaps Zen too) step in and say how he can’t keep brushing off your feelings
So, he decides to try even harder and understand the enigma that is a teenage mind.
It’s difficult as shit
After a while, he begins to learn all your cues and patterns, and understands what you want when you need it. He can read you like an open book now and knows when he should give you space or step in and comfort you.
He’s actually really good at it
He is always pampering you to the extreme. You watch tv and muse, “cool... there’s a new video game out.” and forget moments later, he immediately walks in with over a hundred games and pre-ordered, deluxe gold editions of them.
He is the prime example of a father figure at this point, and all your friends get jealous.
He only gives you the best and will settle for nothing less. You are practically his own child at this point and like HELL is he gonna give you anything he discerns as not worthy.
He likes taking you out for nice strolls after you beg ask for you two to hang out. You always get excited at seeing a simple cafe or mannequin with a cute outfit, and he wonders at how nice it must be to be so innocent
Plenty of outlets had contacted him about you, but he makes sure your privacy is secure. He doesn’t want anyone taking advantage of you or getting too personal
But they do manage to capture snippets of you two walking, and some misunderstandings have occurred due to it
“Jumin Han is dating a minor!”
“Jumin Han has child after affair with mistress!”
He gets fed up with the rumors and explains right away that you are NOT his lover, and you are NOT his actual child. He lies and says you were the child of a good friend of his, because explaining what actually happened would be weird
He is one of the worst when you say you’re dating someone. He will hound his security guards to watch EVERYTHING you to do, and he WILL have 707 do a background check on whoever you are going out with.
“What are they doing?” “Uhhh...they’re eating.” “What about now?” “Still eating sir.” “Are his hands visible?” “Yes sir, he’s using them to eat a burger.” “B-burger? Where are they at?!” “McDonald’s sir...” “What kind of lousy date is this, why did (Y/n) accept this, does he think he’s good enough for my child with his peasant lifestyle???” “Sir...they’re 16????”
All in all, he’s trying to be a good father figure and guardian that he never really had growing up. But he’s so prideful at seeing how much you mature, and even though he’s blunt sometimes, he hopes you understand he loves you a lot.
He also tries dad jokes, but they’re so weird because obviously he rehearsed it and he says it so stoically that it makes it even funnies.
Jaehee
Jaehee is a sweet woman, and she is like your best friend and mother rolled into one.
She is so caring and considerate of your feelings, and is your number one supporter.
She may seem kinda stand-offish, and kind of annoyed because she’s already incredibly busy now she has to take care of someone else and-
Whoops now she’s in the PTA and runs it like a damn boss. She is all over your studies and fights the faculty if she feels the school is not running in tip top shape.
She gets exhausted a lot, as Jumin isn’t exactly the easiest boss to work for.
It was kind of hard at first, sometimes she wouldn’t come home until way after midnight, and she’d see your body passed out on the couch with a note on the table about how you tried to make her dinner.
Even though it wasn’t the best, knowing you tried so hard to stay up for her as well as cooking for her made the food taste even better than anything a five star restaurant could have made.
So she tries to make it up to you in any way she can. She’ll pick you up your favorite movie or snack on her way home, or even little cute gifts that reminded her of you.
She writes down any information she knows about you, and makes sure to write about your friends and teachers so she can keep up with you.
She gushes about Zen a lot, and you were a fan too, so you both would binge watch his movies and clips of him. ANY piece of media involving Zen was devoured by you two.
You two were constantly picking each other up and giving gifts, and when it was Jaehee’s birthday, you wrote her a letter about how much she meant to you and even got Zen to sign a poster for her!
It was also the first time you called her ‘mom’, and even though the Zen poster is proudly hung up in her office, she can’t help but smile at how you called her that.
She is a huge advocate of following your dreams. She does complain about how awful it is to work for Jumin sometimes, so she hopes to god you do something you love.
You also convinced her to start her own cafe! You helped her as much as you could, and she was just...so ecstatic.
Jaehee is easy to talk to, she is always prepared with good advice and comforting words.
Probably the second easiest to talk to about dating. She is hesitant at first because one, you’re young and stupid, and two, she just doesn’t trust people.
707/ Saeyoung
Okay, everyone in the RFA was hesitant to allow him to take care of you. They trusted him when it came to his work, but this was an actual human being. He could hardly take care of himself, how would he even take care of you???
Surprisingly, he’s an awesome guardian
A lot of them didn’t believe it at first and they were like ‘blink twice if he isn’t feeding you’ but you shrug and insist he’s great
He’s very nurturing and protective of you, and he sort of sees this as a second chance to make up for when he couldn’t help his brother.
He’s really good in the fact that he’ll allow you your space to grow, but he will step in if you’re out of line or in trouble
Will NOT hesitate to ruin someone’s life if they dare hurt you. He’s got connections and the prowess and like hell is someone gonna make his child cry.
Saeyoung is still as corny and crazy as he is in the chatroom, but in these instances with you, he means it a lot. He does anything he can to make you smile, even if it means he’d get hurt.
He is a lot calmer though with you, and his parental instincts kick in a lot more. The RFA was shocked to see him actually change some of his poor quality of life skills as a means to be a better guardian to you.
When he needs to go on a mission, he entrusts Jumin or Vanderwood to take care of you.
He never tells you about those dangerous missions, he only says he’s going to be at a conference out of the country.
He always makes sure to get you a souvenir or gift when he comes back from those trips.
Joy rides in his cars!! He loves to take you to the beach or sightseeing whenever he can.
He stills eats poorly, but it really makes him melt when you offer him some dinner you cooked for him. He started screaming and Yoosung (who was on the other end of the phone call) felt his ears bleed.
He gets so excited for your cooking, like he stops his work just to take a bite of your grub.
He hacks to get movies that weren’t even released to the public yet so you both could watch it on your downtime. He’s a hardcore softie though and you still have yet to see him shut up or not sob all over you as you two watch.
“You’re getting snot on me!!!” “I’M sorry it’s just....oh my god how could this even happen??????”
You accidentally called him ‘dad’ one time and he lost it. He was jumping for joy and hugging you in a death grip, screaming, “IM A FATHER!!!!!”
Oh and he will definitely not pass up the opportunity to make some Star Wars references.
You can’t hide anything from him. He tries to not be snoopy but holy shit you did not know just how far he’d go when it came to keeping tabs on you.
By the time he was done he knew the name of your first grade crush, an incident where you kicked your own self, and how old you were when you got your first cavity.
Likewise, he will already know if you’re crushing/dating someone. He’ll pretend he doesn’t know, but secretly do a background check.
OKay so this definitely happened on your first date out with your crush, you two went out for milkshakes when your phone started sounding like Saeyoung’s voice.
“HEY YOUNG MAN BOTH HANDS ON THE TABLE NOW!!!”
You both started SCREAMING and had to be told to shut up by the staff because what the hell, your phone was talking!
You screamed at him later on to mind his damn business
And god help whoever you were dating if they hurt you.
This man will go ballistic and start hacking their things like a crazy psycho
“DONT WORRY, GOD SEVEN WILL FIX THIS!!!!”
But seriously, this man adores you to the bottom of his heart. He’s made many mistakes in the past, but you will sure as hell not be another one of them. Anything you ask of him, he’ll gladly do!
V
V is a great guardian for those who don’t like pressure or stress. He’s so soothing and relaxing.
Hardly will ever raise his voice at you, and he practically never gets angry at you
He can’t see that well, but he seems to have a sixth sense that just makes him know where you are and when you are in danger.
He likes taking you out to more scenic ventures, maybe even get you into photography as well!!
He has so many pictures of you, you are like his favorite subject
He even made an exhibit just based on you, and after that, he got a lot of calls about who you were. He made sure they know that you are basically his child
He feels incredibly guilty you had to go through this whole mess. He really wishes nothing bad would happen and you just didn’t have to get involved, but you always encourage him and say you don’t mind, you met him because of it!
He melts and cries a bit later on
If you call him ‘dad’ he gets so happy, like he finally feels like he actually did something right for once
But occasionally he doubts himself and can get kinda stand-offish in fear of how he might hurt you later on
He doesn’t make the same mistakes this time, and he makes sure you can get the help you need. He’s not gonna allow you to hurt yourself or others, and he won’t enable negative behaviors.
He doesn’t talk about Rika to you. That was one of the worst moments in his life, and he thinks you’ll hate him because of it.
You don’t- and he wonders what he did to deserve you
V is not an idiot. He may be partially blind but oh honey, he WILL know if you are dating someone. Don’t ask how, he does.
He’s chill about it, but makes sure you understand what you are getting into. He’ll sit you down and start questioning you or your date’s intentions
It’s a side effect from his past with Rika, he doesn’t want you hurt, nor does he want you to hurt someone else.
He makes you have clear and concise boundaries
He’ll let you do as you please, just please, for everything holy in this world, let him know where you are and be back before 10.
If you get into a bad breakup he’s there to comfort you but also calls 707 to use his special skillset
I feel like V would use a lot of dad jokes. Like he doesn’t even know where it comes from and he’ll just say one, and 707 flips out.
Overall, just a calm dude who really loves you a lot. You’re allowed to grow and be your own person, but within some boundaries. He’ll stop at nothing to keep your smile.
Unknown/ Saeran
Okay so... he feels weird. You’re a child. A damn child.
He gets very conflicted because he gets flashbacks of how he was taken at a young age
He starts off as incredibly scary, staring you down to make you fear for your life, but you notice right away he’s become...softer
If anything, now he feels guilty. You were nice to him, even though he did all these things to you...
Saeran becomes a guard dog to you, watching over you like a hawk.
As thanks, sometimes you would make him sweets
He loves them a lot, they’re now his favorite things
Pretty soon, a friendship begins to form, and then a feeling of guardianship over you.
He’s noticeably a lot nicer and softer to you, he’ll be cussing out his brother in one moment but then if you ask him for something, he’ll stop and bend down to your level and answer you.
Saeyoung finds this incredibly hilarious and nice
Saeran feels a lot better having you around. He feels a lot safer and happier, and knowing that you are safe and happy makes him even more excited.
He likes gardens, so he takes you to them a lot, and he even decided to start one with you
On special days, or days when you are feeling down, he’ll get you a special bouquet of flowers with different meanings to cheer you up!
Baking is also a special hobby between you two. Sweets in general are where you two bond, so occasionally you two go out and try different sweet shops, cafes, or parlors.
You two always rank your fave desserts and places
Do not, I repeat, do NOT tell him about/mention/ or even THINK of dating. He’ll probably beat the crap out of whoever you’re dating because, ‘they are not worth it’
Very strict and will throw hands with anyone checking you out- he’s like an angry dog
Oh dear, if your date makes you sad or upset they will be dead. Saeran will take no shit if they made you frown, and they better start praying for their safety.
You and Saeyoung have to hold him back before he murders your date
He still has his anxious moments where his past may catch up and he’ll freak out, but you are one of the few that can easily coax him out of it. He’d never hurt you at all
If you refer to him as ‘dad’ I think he might feel his heart flutter but also feel nervous...what if he becomes like his dad? What if he hurts you or can’t protect you?
He’ll definitely teach you self-defense but Saeyoung will step in when he tries to teach you how to use a pistol because ‘SAERAN THEY’RE 16, DO NOT DO THAT!!!!’
He has his days when he’s more lax about you, but also has days when he’s breathing down your neck
It’ll take him a long time to be considered a ‘good’ guardian, please be patient, and gently let him know how he should improve.
He’s not good at dealing with your emotions. All he knows how to do is punch whatever made you feel sad, but he quickly learns he can’t do that, and takes advice from all the RFA to help you.
You can fight me but he probably has bought some guidebooks or pamphlets to try and learn to take care of you, and he’s LOST.
“So to comfort them, I hug them...then ask how they’re feeling? Okay, but then it says they might want space? So how do I know? IT DOESN’T EVEN SAY WHEN! WHAT THE HELL? WHAT A WASTE OF MY DAMN MONEY!” He chucks it across the room before promptly picking it up and trying to read it again
He sees a lot of shows and tries to do stereotypical ‘family’ things, but quickly realizes that neither of you are enjoying it and he breathes a sigh of relief because holy hell that made him so uncomfortable.
You both are pretty blunt with what you feel so you’re both on the same page, and try to work it accordingly.
Okay on occasion he’s got you outfits that are similar to his so you both can match and he loves it so much
The most awkward dad jokes. EVER. You’ll be like, ‘hey I’m hungry’, and he’ll remember that he read on a parenting website that dad jokes make your connection stronger or something, so he’ll murmur, ‘hi hungry, I’m dad’. You didn’t know whether to laugh or cry because he was in physical pain after saying that.
You both got a lot to work on, but he tries. Really. And he’s so happy he met you, and he’ll make sure you grow up with a better childhood than he did. Nothing is too big or too small for him to do.
#mystic messenger#mystic messenger x reader#mystic messenger imagines#platonic#707#yoosung#jumin han#kim yoosung#luciel choi#jumin#zen#jaehee#saeran#ray#v#writing#headcanons#long post
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