#which isnt a problem until i sit down to draw and my vision is blurry and yeah thats a problem

[moeblob]

[jumpingjackets]

arduously alive (hamilsquad x reader)

Prompt: You are an artist, the kind that people don’t like to talk about. You met a boy who asked if you were okay. You broke.

Word Count: 2564

A/N: This wasn’t requested, but I’ve been feeling not so great and wanted to project, and I thought since I haven’t posted anything in a h*cking long time, might as well share it with you guys. (this isnt a relationship thing, by the way, i put hamilsquad cause they’re the characters of focus. think of it as a friendship, in a way)

TW: Mention of self-harm/self-harm scars, romanticizing self-harm, unhealthy coping with mental illness, suicide attempt (please stay safe)

You liked to consider yourself a happy person in general, but you knew in your heart that wasn’t true. You liked to think that you genuinely enjoyed laughing, smiling and interacting with other people, but you knew it wasn’t true. You have started to consider that happy part of you as a separate character of yourself.

They had radiant skin, glowing smile and could grow flowers in their hair with how much joy and life they created, but that wasn’t you. It was a character you created to make everyone around you comfortable. You knew no one could be able to bear the real you.

No one could bear the crying, screaming and depressed “you” that got loose when no one was around. You didn’t let it. You weren’t going to let it ruin all the hard work you had gone through to make a more beautiful “you”. The problem was, you even felt disconnected from them, too. You always felt slightly wrong. Slightly out of place, never belonging.

You found a way, eventually, to ground yourself into reality. A little prick and a little blood and your whole body felt at ease. The beauty of a metallic razor filled you, the real you, with so much reality that you and it never disconnected.

You spent so long running the little piece of metal all over your skin, creating line after line of beautiful art in your wrist and thighs that you felt like you could dance in the clouds. You and the razor became inseparable best friends, almost lovers, even. You loved it, and it loved you.

Unfortunately, you couldn’t show anyone the art to anyone. They would whisper and worry, and that wasn’t something the happy, cheery you wanted. It was fine, though. A big sweater and jeans and you were set. Nobody suspected a thing and you continued your art. Everyone was happy.

You continued with your life, as both characters, up until you got into university. It was supposed to be the happiest moment of your life, getting into your dream school and being able to achieve everything you had set for yourself. Your family and friends seemed to dance around you in a dream-like daze, but you still felt odd. You didn’t let anyone know and didn’t let it show.

Starting university was your biggest inspiration. You drew and drew until the bathroom floor was a beautiful red color. You felt yourself drifting once or twice, but you were okay. You felt alive.

Sitting in class a day after a particularly colorful night, fumbling with your sleeves, a boy you had never seen before sat next to you.

Scratch that, you have seen him before. Running around campus, loud and smiling and beautiful. His eyes were always wide and glowing and his smile was beaming. Everything about him was beautiful and alive.

“Hi.” He said simply, eyes fixed on yours, almost as if trying to connect with your soul. His smile faded in the slightest when you only smiled in response. It was weak and insincere, probably something he will never give in his life.

“What are you majoring in? I’m in Political Science.” You saw him hold back, like he wanted to speak more but wouldn’t. Shame, you liked his voice.

“Social Science.” You said, straightening in your chair. If you were going to talk to someone, being hunched over your notebook wasn’t exactly polite. You felt the happy “you” take charge. “Political and social sciences are similar, right?”

You seemed to have turned on a switch, because he smiled even brighter.

“Yeah, they are. They have differences here and there, but-but yeah they’re similar.” He stumbled, but kept looking at you.

You were about to open your mouth to keep talking when the professor walked in. Both of you sat up straight as a board and never spoke during the whore lecture.

After it was done and you had mindlessly picked up your bag and books, you were stopped midway by the same voice.

“Alexander, by the way. Hamilton.” He said, walking the opposite direction from where you were walking.

“Y/N. L/N.” you half shouted. It took him by surprise that you actually responded, but he shot you a bright smile, turned around, and kept walking.

That night, you held your best friend with a shaky hand. The movement made it glimmer in the bathroom light multiple times. Your chest felt hollow, like it always did, but your heart was pounding like an animal, trapped, wanting to get out. This had never happened before. You felt uneasy and awkward, but in a different way than before. This time, it was almost good.

The next time you saw Alexander was in the campus cafeteria, tray with food half eaten, smiling and laughing with three other people. All of them were beautiful, almost as alive and radiant as Alexander. Your heart fluttered. You had never seen a group of people so full of joy and life, none that had made your heart drop when they noticed you, at least.

The other three looked at you but seemingly thought nothing and continued talking, but Alexander waved you over to their table. You hesitated at first. They already had an obviously personal space in themselves, were you sure you wanted to invade it? Nevertheless, you walked quietly over to him and smiled.

“Hey, Alexander.” You said, half hugging him while he was mid standing up.

“What’s up? Where are you headed?” He chatted as if you had known each other for years. One of the other boys looked between the two of you curiously.

“Just wandering around campus, really. They cancelled my class for today but I don’t want to go back to my house and be alone, you know?” You talked with your hands, but you were wearing a jacket to which you had previously cut holes to stick your thumb out. Only so the sleeves never slipped and people wouldn’t see what decorated your wrists.

“Why don’t you sit here with us?” He said, scooting over the seat to give you space. You didn’t know why your heart raced.

“Oh, don’t worry,” You said with nervous laughter, “I wouldn’t want to bother you guys.” You said, shuffling the straps of your back pack. You could already feel the others hoping she would leave in silence, tears where already threating at the back of your eyes.

“You wouldn’t be bothering us. You seem innocent enough.” The boy who was previously studying you said. His eyes were also gleaming, with a different light than Alexander’s, but it was still so beautiful. And alive, most definitely.

You felt the lump in your throat relax as you sat down next to Alexander. The chatter in the cafeteria was practically nonexistent, too, so you felt at peace.

“Nice to meet you, I’m John. This is Herc,” he pointed to the boy next to him, which he waved and smiled, mouth filled with food which gave him a child-like grin (which you returned, obviously).

“And I’m Marie-Joseph Paul Yves Roch Gilbert du Mortier de La Lafayette, but you can call me Laf.” The other boy, sitting next to Alexander, introduced himself before John could. He was physically breathtaking, more so than the others, which you didn’t think possible. His eyes were soft and luminous, his voice thick with French.

You smiled and nodded as each one introduced themselves. “Well, I’m Y/N, nice to meet all of you.” You were quiet, terrified. You didn’t know why. All you wanted the moment the words left your lips was to go home and draw.

Surprisingly, though, you didn’t have the worst time with them. It was easy to talk, easy to laugh with them. John was a med student, Laf isn’t an exchange, Hercules is in the college team and Alexander never stops talking. All of them had something to them that made you feel a different connection with life.

But, unfortunately, all dreams have to end. Hercules and Laf left together to study (Alexander and John started snickering once they left) and John left to feed his pets half an hour later. It was just you and Alexander. You stood up after a few minutes since John had left.

“Thank you for inviting me to sit down with your friends, Alexander. I don’t remember the last time I laughed that much.” You said, hugging him fully this time.

“Do you need a ride home? It’s getting kind of dark, it’s dangerous to walk alone around these parts.” He said, his voice sounded almost like he was worried.

You considered it. You looked out to the sky. It was dark out, and frankly you were a little bit scared of walking alone in the dark.

“I’d appreciate that, thank you.” You said. He didn’t wait one second before jumping up. He threw his tray away, and motioned you to follow him.

You walked to his car in silence, kicking a stone in the floor occasionally. You got into his car, a sweet smell hitting your nostrils immediately. You saw the air freshener sitting behind the rearview mirror.

“We all had fun today, Y/N, thanks for joining us. You’re really great.” Alexander said once you were leaving campus. You were taken aback, it felt like your mouth was a desert.

“I had fun too, Alexander. Thank you.” Was all you could muster up. Your body was starting to shut down, crash from all the excitement from the evening. Your second character was waking up. They were furious, so you stayed quiet the whole ride beside telling Alexander your address, and quickly thanking him for the ride. He hurriedly asked for your number, and you scribbled it in his hand.

That night you were at the brink something terrible, and you didn’t know why. You drew and drew until you almost couldn’t breathe. Your vision turned blurry, that had never happened. You weren’t scared, but that fact did scare you.

You didn’t know why it felt so bad, meeting other people wasn’t a bad thing. Meeting good people who make you feel weirdly happy wasn’t a bad thing either, but your character didn’t care.

“They hated you.” You could hear it say. “Should’ve just kept walking. They hated you.”

You drew more than you did ever before, but you didn’t care.

You wore a thin long sleeve the next time you saw Alexander, maybe two or three days later. You prayed red didn’t seep through the bandaging.

Alexander smiled at you, but quickly retracted it and sat down at the very front. Not far from you, but not next to you either.

The lecture came and went. You hurried back to your house, threw off your shirt, and picked up your trusty best friend.

“I am the only one that loves you.” It glinted in the light. You knew it was right.

You were in the middle of drawing, when your phone buzzed in the floor. You were startled, to say the least, even more when it was an unknown number that had texted you.

Hey, sorry I’m just writing to you now, didn’t know what to say to you. Are you ok? You didn’t seem to great in class today. Please let me hear back from you. I’m a bit worried. -Alex

Oh? You’ve only spoken to him twice, maybe? Why did he care?

“He doesn’t.” Said the razor.

Hey, Alexander. I’m sorry, I haven’t been feeling well. Thank you for worrying, though. No need for that. I’ll be fine.

Your fingers trembled as you wrote back and hit send. You didn’t know why. You put the phone down and picked up your razor.

“Yes! Yes!” Screamed the razor. It knew what went through your mind, even before you did. You put your hand over your mouth to muffle a sob.

Was this happening? Really?

“Do it.” Said both of your characters. Your phone was buzzing again, but right now you could care less. You changed into something comfortable, the short sleeves of your shirt showcasing all the artwork, intricate lines down your forearms. Some raised, some darker, some almost invisible. You thought it looked beautiful. You examined your forearms for a while, maybe too long, before you walked back to the bathroom.

You ran a bath, and waited until the tub filled almost to the brim. You crawled in, the water spilling out of the tub, but it was fine. It was all fine.

You took your razor out, fiddling with it around your fingers. Were you ready? Yes. It was okay. It was ok.

You didn’t think you would do it today. Had you asked yourself a few days ago, you didn’t think you wanted this. But now, surrounded by calming warm water and your best friend, you realize it was long overdue. When it pressed in your skin, deeper than ever, drawing so much blood, you heard something outside.

A car.

It was fine though. You continued, having to stifle a cry of pain. It was so deep now. No turning back now.

You heard a voice.

Your hand shook as blood rushed out of your wound. Not too deep, not enough.

You heard multiple voices now, your heart started racing. Who would come here?

There was a knock on the door. Your head fell back, vision blurry. Your limbs were falling asleep. You still gripped onto your razor, determined to finish.

The front door opened, since you left it unlocked, but you didn’t care anymore. It was done, you thought it was done, but why were you still so awake? Didn’t matter. You pressed it to the other arm.

“Y/N?” A voice yelled. French. You didn’t look up. The doorknob on the bathroom door shook before opening slightly as you pressed the metal into your skin, drawing more blood. You grew so weak that you dropped the razor. The door opened completely, but the person stood still, unable to react.

You head limped to the side, you saw the color in Alexander’s face drain completely. His mouth moved, as if speaking, but nothing came out. Lafayette poked his head in, but quickly went into action when he saw red-tinted water.

You could hear him calling for John. The boy immediately arrived, taking your arms and wrapping them with something.

“Laf, Alex, apply pressure here. Herc, call 911. I’ll get my kit.”

He seemed so calm but his voice was demanding enough to wake Alexander. He rushed next to Lafayette, taking your arms carefully. Your head limped from side to side from being forced slightly up, but you shrieked in pain when you felt pressure in your cuts.

Alexander winced. He could only imagine the pain. Lafayette brushed the hair out of your face.

“I know, I know. It’ll be okay, mon cher. It’ll be okay.” He whispered, breathing in heavily when you sobbed.

“It hurts.” Your voice was hoarse as you continued to sob.

“You’ll be okay soon, Y/N. Just hold on.” This time Alexander spoke. His voice trembled just as much as his bottom lip. You couldn’t process anything. The pain was too much.

You screamed in pain once again as you heard a loud siren. From the open bathroom, you could see red and white lights shining through the living room windows.

It was done. You failed. It will be okay, though. Hopefully.