Semi-motivational Quotes From Hayao Miyazaki

Semi-motivational quotes from Hayao Miyazaki

h.how do we feel .

“Uh… sorry ‘bout the mess. I’ll make it up to ya.” For good measure, the space cowboy kicks one of the corpses to the side with his boot.

You clutch your chest tighter, heart racing. “You just killed fifteen IPC soldiers in my bar.”

“Yep.”

“You–”

He suddenly looks offended. “Hey. I did the world a favour. I don’t take kindly to rats puttin’ their fudgin’ filthy hands on the merchandise.” He gestures to his torso. Then, he whistles, placing his thumbs on the waistband of his pants. “But, nice place ya got. This your business?”

Dazed, you nod slowly. Your eyes flit to the broken sign and the smashed television hanging over the bar counter.

The bottles are smashed to bits. There’s liquor spilled all over the floor—expensive liquor. This would cost a fortune to fix, let alone to then replace all of the products.

You exhale shakily. You try not to look at the bodies.

The cowboy pities you. You can see it on his face. He says nothing. He awkwardly clears his throat and skims the rim of his hat with his fingers.

This sucks.

“How ‘bout this? I’ll give ya the bounty money so you can fix this place up.”

“Will you pay for my therapy sessions as well?” you chime in, murmuring beneath your breath.

He cracks a smile. “If that’s what you want.”

You lean over the counter and place your head in your hands. Tiredly, you ask, “how much?”

You hear the cowboy click his tongue in thought. “‘Bout… seventy-five? Give or take?”

You look at him from between your fingers. “Huh? Seventy-five hundred?”

The cowboy, yet again, looks offended. “Million, hun. I don’t do my job for cheap. What do I look like to you?”

You squawked. “Seventy-five million?”

“You heard me.” He cocks his head to the side, lips pressed into a thin line. “Why? You like that?”

“You can’t give me seventy-five million credits. Are you serious?” You could feel your face burning in shock. Your hands slam onto the counter, and you point an accusing finger in his face. “You must run some sort of shady business.”

The cowboy looks to the left for a moment.

He blinks at you like you’re stupid.

“You’re serious?” you repeat.

Instead of answering, he pulls out his phone from his pocket. You say nothing about the flimsy orange case, instead watching as he fumbles and squints at the screen before turning it towards you.

He shows you the recent deposit.

As he said. Seventy-five million fat credits sit right there in his account.

Hesitantly, you grab the phone to peer closer. Curiously, you start scrolling. These deposits clearly weren’t new to him. There were so many starting back from about ten years ago. There was a recent one of two-hundred thousand, then another just crossing fifty-seven million–

You were going to pass out. You hand his phone back to him with trembling fingers.

“Seventy-five sound good, or ya want some more?” He was tapping away on the screen again. “Gimme your bank details.”

“No!” You shake your head. “I don’t need your money. It’s fine.”

“How ‘bout eighty?”

“I–”

“Eighty-five.”

“No, I–”

“Round it up.” He turns the phone to you again, this time waiting for you to take it. An empty prompt of a receiver for the credits waits still. “One hundred.”

“Stop. I’m not taking your money.”

“I insist,” was all he said. “Got plenty to dispose of. And was never too responsible wit’ it anyway. Also, don’t really need to spend money on food and stuff, ‘cause, y’know–” He gestures to himself again. “I trashed your place. Lemme help ya fix it up.”

“I’m not taking your money,” you repeat.

The cowboy narrows his eyes at you.

To retaliate, you narrow them back.

Then, grumpily, he states, “you’re stubborn.”

“Yeah.” You bristle defensively. “And?”

“I like it,” he all but purrs. He leans over the counter, fingers drumming over the bench. “If ya don’t want my money, how’z about I take ya out for dinner? To say sorry?”

Huh? You lean back, cowering away from the sharp teeth he displays behind pulled lips. Your heart races in your chest, half out of the anxiety that riddles your veins, but also because he’s practically snapping his teeth in your face like a shark.

Your hands coil into weak fists.

“What do ya think, pretty?”

You look at him.

You suppose he’s handsome—you’re not sure if it’s appropriate to call a cyborg handsome. But he’s got lovely hair, and it falls over his shoulders like water. It covers half his face, but the eye you can see is… trustworthy, to an extent.

He’s definitely not the most insane man you’ve ever met, so that’s a bonus. He also just killed a bunch of soldiers in your territory. You didn’t like the IPC either, and maybe he did do you a favour, but still.

You sigh. You think the pleading flutter of his lashes won you over.

“Fine.”

“That’s the spirit.” He holds out his hand, palm facing upwards. “Phone.”

Your face twists suspiciously. “No funny business.” Hesitantly, you reach into your pocket and hand it to him.

He grins and takes it. “Not at all. I’m a super trustworthy guy.” You find it hard to believe him. Again, he seems to have trouble navigating your phone. He notices you staring. “Sorry. Can’t read very well.”

“Oh.” You straighten up slightly. “Do you want me to add your number instead?”

He makes a face at the phone.

“Nope. I got it.” He hands you back your phone after a moment. The contact is still open on the screen: Boothill. He’s somehow taken a photo of himself without you noticing. “Might’ve added an extra zero. Oops.”

“Oh.” You stare down at the phone number. “There's no zeroes in your number.”

“Sure.” Boothill pulls back from the counter with a tip of his hat. “I gotta run. I’ll set up our lil’ dinner date later.”

You turn your phone off. “Yeah. Thanks.”

“You got it, babe.” He blows you a kiss and waves his hand behind him.

As soon as the door shuts, you get a notification of a successful deposit into your bank account.

Your face immediately drains of blood as you frantically open up the app.

Seven-hundred and fifty million credits sit in your account.

The message attached to it reads, ‘Dont bot her snending it back. Wont work. LOL.’

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𐙚 the poets department.

— or in which i associate certain ttpd songs with (some) honkai star rail men.

— warnings: angst if you squint

— author's notes: notice how jing yuan is the only one who had a happy part? banner credits to @cafekitsune please check them out they make very pretty banners <3

𐙚  BLADE    ;    THE PROPHECY

blade has never known peace ever since his betrayal with an old friend. 

he yearns and yearns for his time to finally come. howling like a crazed wolf at the moon whenever the mara trapped in his body strikes and every time he’d gaze longingly, wishing to be taken back to time where he and his old friends would sit under the moon drinking their sorrows away. blade didn’t care if the graying hairs on his head spoke of his eventual departure; so long as his friends would remember him fondly then he’d die in peace with no complaints.

but now, every waking hour, he waits for destiny’s slave to write down his death on his script.

he was a monster, cursed to eternal loneliness,  and yet that didn’t stop you from treating him with kindness. little old you who frets over him like a nagging but loving mother. greeting him with a smile that made feelings he buried deep within his chest start to resurface.

maybe this was the “death” he’s been hoping for; blade would die from all the yearning he has for you.

all the times you would keep him company after tiring missions did his cracking heart no good. the urge to throw himself into danger just so you could patch him up; yearning for the arms that reminded him of a home that’s long gone. how he wouldn’t be ashamed to stare at you or your hands, wanting to hold them in his own calloused ones. he doesn’t shrug off the thoughts of you from his mind but he’d cut off his own arm before they could ever reach you.

in blade’s mind, you were too good for him. something he’ll come to destroy one day and he didn’t even dare to imagine how that would affect him. now, instead of waiting for destiny’s slave to write out his death, he hopes that he finds a few more reasons to stay longer, for your sake.

𐙚  DAN FENG   ;    IMGONNAGETYOUBACK

what petty rivalry you and the high elder had. always trying your best to one-up him at anything and everything but ultimately failing while dan feng laughed in amusement in your seething bitterness. but the high elder couldn’t deny the feelings of endearment whenever you show up with jing yuan and others to drink, or how you show him the new weapon yingxing had crafted for you. challenging him to another sparring session while the others watched in the sidelines with amusement.

oh how you wanted to wrap your hands around his neck when you caught wind of his plans to try and resurrect his fallen comrade, making yingxing his accomplice in the process.

the way his eyes started to crack with panic as you pulled your bowstring back and aimed an arrow straight to his heart. but dan feng knew, you knew as well, that you wouldn’t actually let the arrow go and kill him even if you say otherwise. in the end, you lowered your weapon as the high elder was escorted to the shackling prison.

before he was forced to be reborn into a new reincarnation, you visited him and how you wished to punch that knowing smile off his face. you exchange brief pleasantries before you ultimately get fed up with his nonsense. all the while you ignore the shouts of his promise in his next life.

sneak him out of the prison, run away somewhere far from the luofu or to turn your back on your first love, it didn’t matter. both choices were poison either way.

𐙚  DAN HENG   ;    PETER

how many years have passed since you thought of him? better yet, why do you still think of him? why do you feel a wave of ambivalent emotions when you see his new incarnation?

 when your eyes met for a brief moment, you had turned away quickly. muttering a soft apology to the merchant you were speaking to a moment ago as you sped walked your way back home. oh how you wish your feelings for the previous high elder would die just like him.

how you hate the way your heart replayed the days spent with him under the sun as he argued that he’d recognize you in every lifetime; the ocean deep promises to find you in every life. you wonder if he remembers you now.

by the time the sun had risen again, he was right there. just a few feet away from you while you carry documents for the master diviner. you hated the way your feet refused to move as he strides towards you, a smile you remember all too well on his face as he offered you a hairpin.

“i remembered, like i promised.”

oh how pitiful was it of you as you dropped the papers in your arms to wrap them around his neck, pulling him a tight embrace. you didn't want to admit that you had been waiting for his return, but truly, love is never lost when perspective is earned.

𐙚  JING YUAN   ;    THE ALCHEMY

it was quite a sight to behold really. the great apprentice of the luofu’s sword champion, on the ground with you pointing a wooden sword at his throat with a victorious smile.

you reveled in the compliments your peers gave you but eventually grew tired of how jing yuan would annoy to no end. you were this close to asking his master to cut him from the training sessions. but you don’t deny the way your cheeks flush after every sparring session jing yuan would win, he’d come running to you, asking if you were watching.

you’d hope that when he grew older he’d at least grow a mature bone in his body, oh how wrong you were. how was it possible that the same kid you’d beaten to a pulp would grow to be taller than you and even more annoying. 

his relentless teasing when you couldn’t land as much hits as you did when the two of you were just kids nearly sent you spiraling over the edge. poor yingxing had to listen to your rants for hours on end, sometimes even kicking you out of his workshop so he could actually get some work done.

but despite all of his annoyingness and your wishes for him to mature, you will never grow tired of him running straight towards you after every victory he’s won under his belt. jing yuan has made it known to everyone that your name was etched into his heart, and really, who were you to fight the alchemy?

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