#like its a little too abstract for me to easily put to words but the people in the drawing are supposed to be doppelgangers and something | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

lubdubsworld · 3 years

Text

Akrasia.

Happy Birthday To the Golden Maknae.

Here’s a little treat in lieu of Jungkook’s 24th Birthday!!!

Canon Compliant.

Jungkook x OC

Word Count : 10K.

Genre : Mild Angst. ( Happy'Ending) Jungkook X OC

Akrasia (noun)

PHILOSOPHY the state of mind in which someone acts against their better judgement through weakness of will.

Getting involved with someone like Jungkook is a bad idea. Do you even realize who he is? How much he’s worth? He’s easily one of the richest men in the country . He’s loved by everyone.

I wrapped the coat around myself, tighter. Everything that Lee Jiae had said was true. She was a popular idol . Someone who would actually make a good match for the Jeon Jungkook.

But even Jiae balked at the idea of going anywhere near someone like him.

Career suicide, she had said firmly. That would be career suicide, Areum. He has fangirls from all over the world. Billions of them. They will dig so deep into my past, find the most innocent of things and twist and turn it and the next thing I know, I’m being kicked out of my band, out of the company and on the streets. I don’t want that. And neither should you.

I shivered a bit. No, I thought honestly. I didn’t want that either. I was far from successful, just an up and coming soloist , with a very very niche fanbase. I did sell a lot of records and I made enough money to live comfortably but I was not a mainstream celebrity. I didn’t register on people’s radar because I stayed far away from the spotlight.

There was something about social media that made it a terrifying thing to me. It was so abstract and unreal and yet…it seemed almost like a sentient being.

A powerful sentient being that could potentially destroy my whole life.

It scared me.

And while Jungkook and BTS had conquered that particular monster, had leashed and saddled the beast and made it their own personal pet…. I didn’t want anything to do with that.

I don’t want that, I told myself firmly. I really don’t want that. I want to stay this way… make music I love… read the few dozen fan handwritten fan letters I received everyday, make the occasional appearance on a magazine cover and then just quietly retreat into my studio. I want this. And if I go anywhere near Jeon Jungkook, I’ll lose this. I’ll lose all of this.

My phone buzzed and I jumped, glancing around nervously. The late October wind was cold but not biting. Winter would come but not for a while. And yet my skin chilled in apprehension. I always felt guilty, picking up one of his calls in public. It felt like I was being watched, like everyone could hear me, on the phone …Could hear who I was talking to.

“Hello.” I whispered nervously, eyes flitting around to find a secluded spot in the park. It was early in the morning, still an hour away from sunrise and I quickly hopped over a small hedgerow and moved into a wooded area, away from the main path that had the occasional cyclist or jogger.

“You didn’t come.” His voice was honey, the way it dripped into my senses and made my breath catch. And yet it was the undercurrent of disappointment that tugged at my heart. Made guilt churn inside me in rapid little currents.

“Yes. Sorry.” I said quietly, picking my way past a few bushes to a bench a little way into the woods. It was rusty and damp because no one came here , and the darkness was absolute, only faintly broken by the dim glow of the streetlights hundred yards away. I settled into the bench nonetheless.

“Areum…. Don’t do this to me.” Jungkook said brokenly and I exhaled.

“I’m not doing anything. I’m being smart. And you should be too. You’re romanticizing something that was just…it was just a conversation. We had a conversation . That’s all that happened.” I said desperately. It was something I’d told myself over an over, these past few weeks. Weeks of avoiding his texts, of ignoring his calls.

Calls from his hyungdeul.

That had given me a whole heart attack.

“You’re just going to ignore me then? Toss my feelings away like they don’t matter?” He asked quietly and my heart clenched.

“You …” I shook my head.” You need to understand something. I’m not going to do this. I can’t afford to. I told you already Jungkook…we spent one evening talking..that’s it…we’re not dating..we don’t know each other well enough for you to be saying that you have feelings for me-“

“And I told you I don’t fucking care. “ He said sharply. “ One day… One hour…who cares? I believe in soulmates. Call me foolish and dumb but I do and when I saw you I felt that. And I know you felt it too.”

My mind flashed back to that evening. It was a private birthday party for a mutual friend. Barely a dozen of us had attended and Jungkook had been sneaking glances at me all evening, completely oblivious to the ay every woman in the room had their gaze glued on him. The party hadn’t been my thing at all and I’d sneaked away to the private terrace, accessible only through a rickety old fire escape and to my utter shock he had followed me up there.

The stars had been exceptionally bright that night, but with Jungkook sitting on the tiled roof next to me, gazing at me with all that adoration, his doe eyes had seemed to hold more of them than the night sky.

“What do you want, Jungkook?” I asked quietly.

“I want you. I know you want me. We …we understand each other. I want the same things you do. Do you even fucking realize how rare that is? To find someone who shares the same thoughts, the same dreams as you do? Who looks at the world the way you do… I… I am not foolish enough to think that there’s another girl out there who could connect to me the way you do. You call that a conversation…just a conversation…. Did you forget what kind of a conversation it was?”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Three weeks ago

The party had barely started and I was already itching to run home. There was a particular song lyric , stuck in my head like a loop and I wanted to put it on paper as soon as possible. I had this thing where seeing something on print helped me to elaborate on an idea. Directed my train of thought in that particular direction if you willed.

Mingyu was walking around, talking to his friends and making them laugh with his witty banter but I didn’t miss the way he shot me little glances. I gave him a quick thumbs up though, to let him know I was okay. He was a childhood friend, one of the few people I’d stayed in touch with through the years. And of course, being in the same industry meant a lot of shared interests.

I moved to the side bar with the drinks and appetizers, ordering myself a diet coke before hopping onto one of the stools. I watched the dozen or so people here….His bandmates, some other idols. I recognized Yugyeom from GOT7. They were all dressed in dressy casuals : flashy shirts and tight jeans and racy little dresses and I felt out of place in my long jean skirt and tasseled leather jacket.

Sighing, I turned back to my drink when a commotion near the door made me look up.

I felt my eyes widen when I saw who it was.

The Jeon Jungkook. From BTS.

I stared at him as did pretty much every person in the room. Jungkook was easily one of the most handsome men I’d ever seen in my life, tall and just…big. I stared at the broad shoulders, the huge arms and the taut line of his abdomen, tapering into a narrow waist and long, long legs with muscular thighs. He was wearing a black shirt, unbuttoned all the way to his chest and skinny blue jeans with black boots.

I smiled, genuinely awed. Jungkook looked every bit like the untouchable superstar he was and I considered that the party hadn’t been a waste after all. The chances of me running into someone like that in person were pretty slim.

Almost at once he was surrounded and I watched as his ears turned red, gaze shifting away and an almost soft shyness in the way he bowed politely . A hesitation to be put on the spot but also a need to stay polite , probably. Laughing a bit , I watched him some more and then his gaze lifted to mine. To my surprise, his eyes went wide in what was clearly recognition.

What.

I watched as he quickly bowed and said something to the people around him before picking his way to me. My entire body went taut with surprise.

“Lee Areum ssi…” He stuttered, eyes wide and I could only gape. “ I’m a huge fan.”

I blinked.

What.

“You know who I am?” I asked , mildly horrified and he laughed nervously, shaking his head and rubbing the back of his palm across his nose before laughing a little.

“Your voice is just… something about your songs…they help me sleep when I’m too exhausted to relax.” He said softly and I felt warmth pool inside me.

“Too exhausted too sleep. That doesn’t sounf good...”

Jungkook chuckled.

“Its not. It usually happens when we’re preparing for a comeback. It different with concerts you know…we’re exhausted because we’ve been running around …singing…its all physical…mostly. And that’s easy to brush aside and sleep. But comebacks…there’s that nervousness. The worry that things may not be as good as they were. Constantly having to keep up to standards. “ He shook his head. “ it can get exhausting.”

It was something deep and oddly tragic and I was stunned that he’d shared something so… personal. To a literal stranger. But the urge to soothe..to comfort and reassure him in some way was over powering.

Instinctively, I leaned closer and lightly touched his forearm .

“But you are the standard, now, Jungkook ssi. What BTS has done, others can only dream of reaching. You’ve brought this….utopian idea that you can love yourself just the way you are… and that’s amazing. I understand the need to meet expectation but I think you’ve earned the right to sleep without being burdened by them.”

Jungkook didn’t reply, staring into my eyes and I felt my pulse kick up a notch, my eyes taking in the beautiful features and my throat went dry when his gaze dropped to where my fingers lightly brushed the soft fabric of his shirt sleeve.

“Oppa…Let’s dance.” A shrill voice behind him made us both jump and I quickly pulled my hand away. Panicking, I turned away from him fully, ducking my head so my hair could cover my face. There was a dull roaring in my head, making it hard to hear what he was saying but a second later he moved away from the bar and I exhaled sharply.

Shaking I turned back to my drink.

Another twenty minutes of trying to avoid looking at Jungkook, I gave up. This wasn’t my kind of place at all and after a quick word with Mingyu, I moved to the small balcony in the side, desperate for some fresh air. But the moment I stepped out, my eyes fell on the rickety ladder like stairs, rusty and clearly a death trap. I quickly moved to the ledge and peered up at the roof. It was a little inclined but nothing dangerous. And there was a barricade that would break my fall, just in case I slipped.

Thrilled at the prospect of doing something that was both foolish and fancy free, I quickly, climbed on to the ladder, climbing all the way over to the top and throwing my legs over the iron railing before carefully walking overt to the center of the roof. Grinning to myself, I settled on the slightly damp tiles.

“You’re lucky the ladder didn’t break .” Jungkook’s voice made me yelp and I stared as he quickly jumped over the railing himself, grinning and wiping his hands on his thighs.

“Oh my god, people are going to find us here!” I hissed, terrified and he laughed.

“Don’t worry. I told them I’m going home.”

“You lied?” I shook my head in disbelief and Jungkook hummed.

“Did I?” He pretended to think. “ Doesn’t feel like I did.”

It took me a few seconds for the implication to sink in.

I looked away, blushing a bit.

“Did I come on too strong?” He moved to sit next to me, just a foot away.

I shook my head.

“No. I’m just.. I didn’t expect you to know me. We don’t exactly run in the same circles.”

“There’s a very cliché line in my head about how you’ve been running in circles in my head for a long time but I’ll save that for our first date.” He said with a laugh and I blushed deeper.

“Date?” I shook my head, “ That’s not funny.”

“Good. Because it wasn’t a joke. Let me take you out to dinner sometime.”

I stared at him, trying to look for the punchline because even if he denied it, it was still laughable. The mere idea of it.

“Don’t turn me down Areum ssi.” He said softly and I swallowed.

“I won’t if you take it back.” I said quietly.

He sighed.

“Then…when you sang about wanting to give love a chance…wanting to free fall for once without worrying about the rocks at the bottom of the cliff, wanting to soar into the sky without thinking of the ropes trying to tether you to the ground….were you joking?”

I gaped at him.

“that’s.. those are… Those are lines from before my debut.” I said shakily.

“Like I said… I’ve been a fan for a long time.” Jungkook whispered.

The night was magical. Cool and refreshing and the night sky was resplendent, the lack of clouds offering a stellar view of the stars and yet, I found myself drawn to the galaxies swirling in his doe eyes. The strong nose and the cherry red lips, now being worried between slightly large front teeth as he stared at me with all the nervousness of a young boy.

But he wasn’t a boy. He was a man.

And this wasn’t a love song.

This was real life.

“Free falling is fun when you don’t know what you’re falling into. But when you do know that there’s a lot of pain at the end of the fall, its not something you want to experience.”

“Areum…”

“I’m flattered.” I said quickly. “ Beyond flattered…really. But… I can’t.”

“Okay. But don’t leave. Stay here with me.. for a while. Let’s talk.” He said quickly.

Jungkook was handsome and the night was still young. This maybe the last time I would ever see him and I was honest. It was flattering, receiving attention from someone like that.

I hesitated before sighing and nodding.

“Okay…let’s talk.” I smiled, throwing caution to the winds.

And talk we did. About everything and nothing. As the night grew darker, Jungkook relaxed next to me, laughing as he shared anecdotes about his members, about his family, about his brother. And then naturally about how successful they were these days and Jungkook told me that there was always a downside to fame but he enjoyed the love he received. That he loved his fans for how they treated him and his brothers.

“Fame comes with a price but it’s a small price to pay…being loved for what I do..being accepted the way I am…it feels good.” He said quietly.

“It’s not always that way though.” I pointed out honestly. “ You guys are … I won’t say lucky because you’ve definitely worked hard but you’ve been more fortunate than the rest. Sometimes the spotlight can be a terrifying place to be.”

“you forget that we were once one of the most hated idols in the country..” He laughed. “ Trust me I know.”

“I didn’t know about you guys till you got on the Billboard. And you’re an amazing singer as well.” I said softly.

He grinned , playing with the bracelets on his wrist.

“Thank you.” He said sweetly.

We stayed quiet for a few seconds, staring up at the sky.

“I’ve never been attracted to fame.” I told him honestly.” Of course it holds its charms I suppose but I’ve always preferred the quiet of being obscure, you know. Like this secret that only a few get to learn in their lifetime.” I laughed. “ A hidden treasure maybe? Its why I started a Youtube channel instead of auditioning. Because only people who genuinely liked my music would get more of me. ” I smiled.

Jungkook hummed.

“When you first started singing your own songs on your YouTube channel? It was kind of around the same time we won our first daesang…” He smiled. “ In the MMA.”

“Oh…Really?” I asked surprised. That was nearly five years ago.

“Yeah. And till then..it was just your voice that I got to hear. You talked a bit but mostly it was just you covering someone else’s songs. And well, after we won the daesang I felt …lonely? Kind of? Scared maybe. And then you sang, ‘ White Dove’ a couple of days later and the lyrics…they just resonated with me you know. It made me feel like I knew you… Like you were a friend.”

I swallowed.

“I..thank you.” I whispered quietly, staring at my hands.

“And when you refused to sign with SM or YG. You also refused to monetize your videos on Youtube. You said your voice was your gift and you didn’t want to make money from something you’d received for free yourself. That …I loved that.”

“You’re like that too. You post your covers and songs on soundcloud for free as well.” I said quietly and he smiled.

“Like I said…we have a lot in common.” He smiled.

I smiled, shaking my head.

“I envy you.” He said quietly and I glanced at him.

“Hmm?”

“You’re just… You’re so untouched by all this. By me. It may sound incredibly narcissistic but people swoon when they see me for the first time but…you’re just you…. And that just makes me remember that you’re amazing and beautiful and you have such beautiful mind and you’re just… you’re so far out of my league. You’re so content with what you have and I wish I could be that way….But I …I can’t help but be greedy.”

“Greedy?”

“To do more. To want more. I know I should be happy that I even got to meet you . I feel like I’ve lived a lifetime in these two hours , sitting here talking to you. But I’m still greedy for more.” He stared at me with an intensity that was electric.

“More what?” I laughed.

“More of this. More of you. More of you and me together. More of us.”

“Us?” I laughed, shaking my head. “ There’s no us , Mr. Jungkook . you need to forget about that.”

“ I don’t think I can.” He said suddenly.

I felt the smile fade from my face.

“Jungkook.”

“Your song … Utopia… where you write about your idea of the perfect world. I… I loved it.” He said shakily.

“Jungkook , wait…”

“All of these days, when I listened to your songs, I would make it personal.. It would be about how those words applied to my life but with Utopia… that world you talk about …where you can be yourself, where you can sing whatever you want, be whoever you want…. When I heard that song…it became about you. About us.. I… that world you dream of.. I want to give that to you.”

My jaw dropped and I exhaled in disbelief.

“Do you realize how ridiculous that is? Your fans…our companies… Everyone will lose their minds.” I whispered, horrified.

He nodded.

“I know. I know I shouldn’t ask you this. Because it goes against my better judgement. But I can’t help. I still want to choose this. Choose you. So if there’s a word for that.. That is how I feel.”

“I.. I should go.” I said nervously, making to move but he reached out an gently gripped my wrist.

“Do you believe in love at first sight?” He asked quietly and I shook my head.

“No.. I don’t.” I said quietly.

“Good. Because neither do I. But I do believe in people who can understand you better than anyone else can. Just give me a chance. One date.”

I stayed quiet staring at my feet. There was so much to consider but I couldn’t bring myself to look at him and say no. He looked so hopeful.

“I’m busy for a couple of weeks. But there’s a beautiful terrace restaurant in Itaewon that I know. We’ll have complete privacy . I’ll get my chauffeur to pick you up. No one ill know. I just want to spend some time with you over dinner and if you have a good time….. we can meet again.”

And then what?

“I…I’ll try. But I can’t promise anything.“ I said honestly.

“That’s good enough for me. Can I have your number at least?” He asked finally.

I nodded and quietly put it into his phone.

“I’ll make the reservation and send you the details. And Areum?”

I glanced up at him.

“I’ve been free falling since I met you.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I closed my eyes, breathing deeply.

“I do.” I said quietly. “ I do remember.”

“I haven’t stopped falling. I keep listening to your songs on loop… Because I can’t bear the thought of being away from you , of not being connected to you in some way…”

“You’re so .. you’re so intense.” I whispered shakily and he laughed.

“I know, baby. I’m sorry. It’s just the way I am… I’m here you know. The restaurant I told you about. And my chauffeur is at your home. But he told me he couldn’t find you. It’s the middle of the night . where are you?”

I sighed.

“In the park opposite my house.”

Jungkook didn’t respond for a second.

“Do you want me to ask him to leave?” He asked quietly.

I took a deep breath.

“ Akrasia. “ I breathed out nervously.

“What…”

“its when someone makes a decision…against their better judgement.” I laughed nervously. “When we had that conversation , you asked me if there was a word for it. For acting against your better judgement. Akrasia is the word you’re looking for .”

He stayed quiet on the other end.

“Okay.” He said finally. “ Well, are you going to be akratic with me?” he said finally.

“Ask your driver to leave for now. And come meet me in my apartment tomorrow. I’ll make you dinner.”

Jungkook didn’t respond.

“That way we’ll have more privacy.” I said softly.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Dating Jungkook was a lot of pain. Just as I’d anticipated. It was sitting by and watching him work himself down to the bone. It was watching people throw themselves at him and not being able to say a word. To the world he was single. And the number of women who called and hounded him was unnatural.

And he worked so hard that my heart ached for him.

One night, he missed dinner and I couldn’t reach him on the phone. I stayed up , sitting on my bed, waiting.

He came back at exactly at three in the morning. He didn't turn on the light but the moonlight through the window was sufficient to let me know that he looked terrible. i watched him shrug out of his jacket, leaning against the table , long legs crossed and crisp white shirt unbuttoned. He tugged at his tie with a sort of tired , half hearted gesture and i smiled.

i watched him for sometime, seeing him shrug out of his shirt and change into a simple white t shirt. He moved with a sort of graceful strength. Like every single cell of his body had the same confidence that he did.

It was like a dream, i realized as another dull ache of pain twisted my heart. It was like i'd slept and woken up in someone else's dream. A dream where it was okay for me to look at him and feel things for him , without fighting to convince herself that it was dangerous. That it was going to end in heartbreak.

As i watched him prepare for bed, i wondered when I had started falling so hard.

The sound of the door closing, made me look up , shaken out of my thoughts. Jungkook was locking the door behind him.

When he moved to the bed, i decided to let him know that i was awake.

"You're back?" i said softly.

He hesitated, clearly startled , before smiling at me. It was a weak smile, one that practically screamed exhaustion and i sat up straighter, watching as he moved to me side and gently stroked me hair.

"Why aren't you asleep?" He smiled.

"I was waiting for you." i said honestly holding my hand out and he took it, kissing it obediently.

"you'll have to wait longer, I'm afraid. I have a meeting tomorrow morning with PDnim and I still haven't prepped for it. I need to get an hour's sleep and get back to work. " Up close he looked so tired that i felt my heart clench in panic.

"You don't look good." i said, alarmed as i realized that his skin had a distinctively grayish tinge to it.

"Comeback times are always that way. Never good for my health." He said teasingly. He checked his phone messages before turning to me and smiling.

"I see you've been cutting back on the pain killers... are you feeling better than?" He asked. I’d been down with some menstrual cramps earlier and I was touched that he remembered, even in the mess of his schedule.

"I wish you wouldn't change the topic everytime I try to show concern for you." i said , a little bit annoyed. He grinned and touched my cheek with his forefinger.

"Just the fact that you are concerned is enough for me . anything more and I might die of happiness. you don't want that do you?" He winked.

Deciding that it was impossible to talk with the man, i asked him if he wanted something to drink.

He shook his head and climbed in next to me but before laying down, he turned to me.

He hesitated.

"Will you lend me your shoulder for the night?" He said softly , placing his hand there.

i sighed as he leaned against me . His skin felt warm against me, his hair lightly tickling me cheekbones and i threaded me finger through the silky strands.

In just a few seconds, he was fast asleep.

I stayed awake, watching the room grow steadily brighter, the weak winter sun gently finding its way into the room , much like the way the man in my arms was gently finding his way into my heart.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"We should get a house, don't you think?" i said two months later, sitting up in bed , eating dinner while i watched him work on his files. He'd placed the desk in the far corner of the room, giving me the perfect view. And i was beginning to enjoy it a lot more than the one i could see out the window.

" A house? " Jungkook stopped and looked up. " You want to live with me ? Just the two of us?" He smiled.

Well, when he put it that way. I balked and ducked my head.

"It's too soon isn't it..I'm sorry I don't know why I..."

"What kind of a house would you prefer? Flat? Penthouse? Apartment? Duplex? Tell me....I'll get you the listings and you can pick out the ones you like . When you get better we can go pick one out." He grinned at me and i relaxed against the pillows , while he went back to his files.

"I read something online…” i said casually . He didn't look up, merely humming to acknowledge that he'd heard me.

"Did you date Lee Hyeri ?" i finally said. He stopped and looked at me.

"Yes. Many months ago. I broke up with her because I wasn’t feeling anything serious and I didn’t want to lead her one. She didn’t take it very well. ." He said softly, moving towards the bed and sitting on the edge. As was his habit, he reached for my hand, holding it in his and tracing circles with his thumb.

“She called me.” I said quietly and he stiffened.

“Shit.”

I laughed.

“She wanted to meet me . Wanted to talk about something although I have an idea what. I’m not going to indulge her though.”

“If she calls again, you should tell her that her obsession is bordering on stalking and I’m on the verge of getting a restraining order. She turned up at my studio too. Went on an on about how I broke her heart and cheated on her . ”

i hesitated , looking away from him and smiling.

"I don't know . Should I?" i shook my head. i hesitated, pulling my hand away from him. "What else did she say?" i said suddenly, remembering how angry she had sounded on the phone.

"Nothing, you need to worry about. Are you done with this? Shall I clean it up?" He reached for my dinner tray and i grabbed his wrist.

"where are you going? You should tell me what she said." i protested, but he gently pried my fingers off before dropping a kiss on me forehead .

"And You should tell me when you're going to start staying over at my apartment.. It's going to snow in a few days. Or so they say. I thought you might like to enjoy the first snow with me..." He smiled .

I took the subtle hint to drop the subject.

"You're being too wonderful. It makes my heart ache." i snuggled into my bed and pouted at him. He laughed at that.

"Take rest. I have a meeting right now. I'll be back late so you should sleep."

I watched him leave, feeling oddly bereft. I was growing to love him deeply.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

As with every couple in the world, our fights were often over the silliest things.

"You're still angry." I said casually, watching him work on his documents, the low burning desk light setting his features in sharp relief. He looked at me for a second and shook his head.

"I'm not angry , Areum. I'm busy. There is a difference." He said with a sigh, rubbing the heel of his palm into his eye. I watched the gesture and sat up straighter in bed, leaning over the side to stare at the clock there. It read 1.15 Am.

"It's snowing." I said softly, getting one my knees and peering out the windows. Through the haze of moonlight, I watched the small flakes drift down over the neatly cut hedgerows, making each segment of the garden look like neat cut slices of cake with vanilla cream frosting. I grinned at the little wisps of cotton white snow, clinging to each little branch on the trees and felt my heart swell with joy.

"I suppose you're too busy to make good on your promise." I said naughtily, peering over my shoulder to glance at him.

"Promise?"

"That you'll walk with me , in the first snow." I said, turning around and getting out of bed, slipping my feet into my fur slippers. I watched him fight with himself , the emotions warring across his handsome face and held my breath.

finally he sighed and stood up. I tried to keep the triumphant grin off my face and failed miserably. I felt awful, because deep down I had known that no matter how angry or upset he was, Jungkook would never break a promise. And I'd worded my request that way, just to take advantage of that little chink of honor that he always lived by.

"Alright then. Let's go take a walk in the first snow." He said softly.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"You love snow."

"How did you know that?" I said surprised, lightly grabbing the low lying branch till it showered both of us with soft white flakes.

"You make these little sounds , everytime you see snow. I've noticed it from the time we met." Jungkook grinned .

I laughed and turned away. I felt like I was standing in the middle of a fairytale, the white landscape making me feel like some exotic Ice Queen. I walked ahead of him, running a few steps till I was about ten feet ahead of him. I turned around, facing him as I walked backwards. He laughed at that.

"Be careful. The snow looks soft but the fall will hurt." He warned me, putting his hands in his pockets and narrowing his shoulders to fight the chill. I smiled and shook my head.

"I want to look at you and make sure that you're not angry with me anymore." I said, enjoying the way he rolled his eyes and shook his head.

"I'm not angry. I told you that."

"Yes. You did. But i didn't tell you I'm sorry, did I?" I said softly, stopping in my tracks and watching as he drew closer. Jungkook gave me a curious glance, walking slowly till he was just in front of me.

"I'm sorry I said I'll leave you." I said honestly. He looked surprised but smiled nonetheless.

"Duly noted." He bowed his head, tipping an imaginary hat at me. Smiling, I turned around I ran a few more steps and instinctively knelt on the ground

"Don't ." He said suddenly.

I looked up from where I was gathering a handful of snow. I gave him an innocent smile.

"What?"

"I know what you're thinking. don't do it." He said, taking a step back. I felt a thrill of anticipation shoot through me, realizing that the big bad wolf was actually scared of being hit by a snowball.

"You should know why I like snow so much.." I grinned with mischief and he gave me a look of disbelief.

"I don't think you can hit me. You're forgetting that i'm an expert at taekwondo.”

I held my hand up and threw , cursing when he casually stepped out of the way, laughing at the look on my face.

"You have to concentrate on what you're doing. Anticipate my next move and react accordingly." He advised, bending down to get some snow for himself.

"React to this!!" I grabbed two handfuls of snow and ran straight at him, grinning as I leapt on him.

We landed on the snow, Jungkook on his back and I right on top of him, laughing as I smeared the snow on his face. He spluttered in disbelief and swiftly, threw his weight over, pinning me to the ground and straddling me, fingers swiftly grabbing my wrists and pushing my hands over my head, leaving me vulnerable and helpless, as he shook his head , showering me with ice cold flakes.

I squeaked in surprise and he laughed hard.

Watching him laugh, full and open , I realized that I'd never watched him laugh that way before.

He looked exhilarated.

Yanking my hand out of his grasp, I grabbed his collar, pulling him down for a kiss.

the first touch of his lips to mine, felt like the sweetest, coolest sip of crystal waters after a lifelong thirst .

I sank into the snow, sighing into the sweetness and the gentle pressure of his lips against me, the first touch of his tongue, making heat seep through my body, despite the cold. I curled my fingers into the fur near his neck, smiling into the kiss as he slipped one hand into my hair, gently tilting my head for better access.

He kissed me softly. He kissed me deeply.

He kissed me like that was what he'd been put on the earth to do.

But mostly he kissed me like that was all he wanted .

It was so absurdly romantic that I wanted to laugh .

I could catch whiffs of his scent, even though my eyes were watering and mey nose felt like it was running. Some elusive cologne mixed with the scent of clean male skin . It made me heat up in ways that curled my toes in my fur boots. Each little kiss lasted a little longer than the one before, till I was certain that I was going to melt into the snow. And each little breath felt like a little wisp of my soul leaving my body and mingling with his.

We kissed and kissed and kissed, while the snow fell in white flakes around us .

First Snow. first kiss, I thought happily.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

After our little episode in the garden, I found that I felt something akin to desperation everytime I came in contact with Jungkook.

It's not that I woke up one day and realized that something had changed in the way I watched Jungkook.

. That my eyes lingered, not just on his face but on the curve of his lips, the edge of his jaw, the exposed skin of his neck. My fingers wanted to reach out and grip, not just the strength of his shoulders and the slender digits of his hand but also his lean waist.

I began losing my mind, slowly and painfully. Suffocating when Jungkook got too close , choking when he went away too far.

As they spent time together, Jungkook began touching me.

. Not too often and never in an intrusive way , but every time his fingers traced the back of my palm or brushed back my hair, my throat went dry and my heart stopped pumping blood and I felt like like a fool because I had no idea if Jungkook felt half of what I was feeling.

In fact I was certain that Jungkook didn’t feel anything at all.

What I was feeling was painful and confusing and if Jungkook felt any of it, he would be running as far away from me as possible, not moving closer and closer.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Why are you so nervous?” Jungkook laughed and I bit my nails nervously, glancing around the reception hesitantly. The workers were all busy, no one spared us so much as a glance but I couldn’t help but feel terrified.

“It’s only us here? For the whole weekend? No one else?” I asked again for the hundredth time.

Jungkook groaned, shaking his head and ignoring me, holding his hand out for the keys to our cottage. I yelped a bit when he began walking away without waiting for me, running to keep up with his long strides.

“Sorry…I just don’t want you to get in trouble.” I said quietly, slipping my hand into his, linking our fingers together and smiling a little.

He squeezed my hand gently before pulling away to wrap me in a one armed huge, pressing a kiss to my neck.

“I booked the entire resort for the weekend. The staff have all signed a confidentiality agreement. No one is going to know we’re here. You can be as loud as you want.” He whispered and I yelped, hitting his chest,” let me finish….” He laughed. “ When you yell at me. You can be as loud as you want when you yell at me.”

“You’re a terrible person.” I whispered , burying my face into his arm in mortification.

Jungkook merely laughed .

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"You seem tense." He said that evening, as the pair of us sat on the back deck , glasses of bubble tea in hand , watching the waves break out on the rocks. Slow but persistent , gradually breaking the rock's resistance and carving its way into its heart.

"Can we ever …truly be relaxed ?" I asked , a little bit of desperation in my tone. Jungkook didn’t turn to look at me . Instead he took a picture of the rocks and the sea with his phone.

"That's a pretty loaded question. With a lot of answers."

I stared at him, wondering why I was more confused now than before.

"Sometimes I can't understand you at all." I said quietly, shaking my head.

“Do you understand that I love you?” He said softly.

I hesitated before nodding.

“That’s the only thing that matters to me.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The boys dropped by for a visit the next day.

I sat down on the open deck, opposite Namjoon for a game of chess. Jungkook slid into the armchair next to me.

"Are you winning?" Jungkook asked quietly and I shot him a glare, which gets a smile in return promptly. It was like he always knew what to say , how to manipulate my thoughts and emotions, how to make me look and feel a certain way , just so he could steal that part of mr away.

How evil.

At first I didn’t notice that he was sitting a bit too close for comfort, because as such, we've lived on top of each other for quite a while now. But after a while I became aware of the warmth of his thigh, solid and strong against my own, evident even through the layers of jean separating them.

I tried to move away, surreptitiously, but Jungkook only moved closer.

"Try this."

His fingers fluttered over my thigh, intentionally or not I would never know, reaching for my queen and I tried not to jump out of my skin, gritting my teeth as my muscles stiffened, my nerves tingling like electric.

I licked my lips and Jungkook’s eyes flickered up at the movement, a gentle smile tugging at his lips and my gut clenched in embarrassment. But the brunette moved even closer, his bare arm now brushing against mine and I had to swallow the desperate urge to get up and just run.

"Well, this is entertaining." Namjoon said suddenly and i looks at my opponent for the first time since Jungkook’s arrival. Namjoon was leaning back in his armchair, amusement shining out of his eyes .

I scrambled in a bid to put space between Jungkook and I and failed miserably.

"He's just helping me with chess." I said desperately.

"Oh, is that what they call it these days?" Namjoon leaned forward looking very intrigued.

Jungkook reached out and clonked him on the head but his eyes were laughing and I wondered how this was going to end. I wanted it. Wanted to take that final step with Jungkook but I was also so , so scared.

Would it change things. For the better? For worse?

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Jungkook, I soon realized, took the way I was shying away from him , as some sort of a twisted challenge to get closer than ever. The more I moved away, the closer Jungkook gets , touching me in gentle intimate little touches and every time he did, a slow simmering fire started at the pit of my stomach, reaching out in gentle upward licks , drying my throat and turning my insides into molten goo.

She's almost tempted to ask Jungkook if he feels the same way but she's saved the trouble later that week.

"I want you."

I froze on the spot, fingers stopping in mid air, inches from picking up a slice of apple, neatly placed on the tray. We were in the dining room, Jungkook sitting with a set of files spread out in front of him and me with a knife and a few uncut apples in a basket.

"You..what?" I squeaked.

" I'm attracted to you and I really want to have sex with you." Jungkook said , almost carefully.

Like he was announcing the weather. Like his words weren’t carefully calculated to turn my world upside down.

"Alright. " I whispered, not even sure what else I could say to that.

I stole a glance at Jungkook who was grinning from ear to ear. I felt blush rushing up my body, the blood flooding my face so quick it made me dizzy..

"Don't .. Don't look at me like that." I whispered, mortified to sound like a sixteen year old girl.

"Do you want me to leave now?" Jungkook reached out , placing a soft hand on my palm and it took all my willpower not to grab Jungkook and hug him. Instead I managed a weak smile. My mind was a few seconds away from collapsing in on itself and I was too stunnedto think straight.

So I answered the question at face value.

"No, I don't want you to leave now. "

"Okay. Go ahead, eat your fruit. It's good for you."

Jungkook smiled again, serene and perfectly at peace with the world.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

At eleven thirty on Saturday night, both Jungkook and I sneaked out of the hotel, arms laden with our picnic basket and coats draped over our shoulders. Once we reached large pond in the outer edge of the property, Jungkook made quick work of the blanket, spreading it out on the artificial lawn that surrounded it.

I settled down on it, reaching out and dipping my legs in the water. It's a bit chilly but only for a second. I wriggled my toes playfully and Jungkook slipped a bit closer to me, letting his foot sink in next to mine.

We played around for a while, splashing water on each other and then I pulled my legs out.

"You okay?" Jungkook asked softly and I turned around to stare at him , a little apprehensive. There are so many things wrong with this , a part of me screams. But there's a part of me that longs, so badly , for this simplicity. Longs and has longed, all my life. Just this, the chance to relax and be myself and play around with water in the moonlight.

"I'm not sure." I admitted, honestly.

"Tell me. " Jungkook said and for once his voice isn't relaxed. Instead it's a bit urgent and anxious.

"We're not... I’m so scared that we'll never make it, you know." I sighed, dipping my legs back into the water, just as Jungkook pulled his out.

"Why? Because of the media ?" There’s a hint of bitterness in his voice and I hated myself for bringing this up. We were supposed to be spending time together, enjoying each other’s company. I wasn’t sup[posed to be ruining the mood like this.

"It's nothing. I just.. I don't want you to get hurt." I said honestly.

"Because of you? Because I'm with you?" Jungkook's voice was lot softer now, the bitterness replaced by concern.

"I.. Yes.. I mean... I'm.."

"You're a gorgeous young woman who is intelligent and charming. Why would I ever give you up?" Jungkook asked, reaching out and wrapping an arm around my shoulder but I couldn’t help but sigh.

"That's.. that's not what everyone else thinks." I reminded him. “ And that not what they’ll say, if you ever tell them the truth about us.”

"No it isn't. And I won't say something stupid like , it doesn't matter what others think. Because it does, I know it does. And it's going to hurt. In fact I think it would hurt you a lot more than it would hurt me. But if I don't... If I don't take a chance with us... that's going to hurt me too. So its a choice. I can either choose to get hurt by people I don't give a damn about , and in return I get... get to be with someone I really...like…..

"Or, I give up the woman I love and get hurt by my own decision. " Jungkook finished.

"We hurt either way." I smiled bitterly, Jungkook's words making a lot of sense.

"Yes. All you need to choose is , what's worth the hurt? Being with me, or society's approval?" Jungkook leaned forward slightly and I blinked.

We stayed that way staring at each other for a second and then he pulled away and sighed deeply.

"I've already chosen, I. I'm not pushing you, but I hope you'll pick me." He said quietly.

I stared into the night, thoughtfully. So easy, I told myself. So easy to turn around right now and kiss Jungkook, tell him that I didn’t deserve so much happiness. That my heart was so light, I wanted to spout wings and fly.

So easy but so frightening.

The wind picked up somewhere and somehow a draught found its way inside and I shivered a little, only to have a warm blanket wrapped around my shoulder. Jungkook snuggled in with me and we huddled together

My thoughts tripped over each other and I wanted to run away but I stayed still, letting the gentle lap of the water against my toe, calm my inner turmoil.

"It's just you and me." Jungkook whispered, " Right now. Just you and me. Let's pretend we're the only ones on the planet."

I turned around to the brunette in surprise but Jungkook's looking out into the water, lit by a full moon from the skylight.

"Just you and me. " He said absently and I nodded, looping my fingers with Jungkook's. We sat in silence, pressed against each other and I waited till the moon slipped behind a cloud before turning around, slightly, and pressing my lips against Jungkook's.

It's soft and very short, over before it even begins and Jungkook smiled into the kiss.

Explicit Content :

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Jungkook teasingly pushes her back and Areum falls back against the soft mattress, like she's been shoved. She melts into the kiss and then Jungkook’s lips move away, dragging his teeth and tongue over the exposed expanse of her neck, lightly sucking and biting and then soothing with his tongue. Areum gasps and struggles and fights for air, before dragging their lips together again.

Jungkook kisses her until she's splayed flat against the bed, eyes wide and lost and lips parted, blush staining her cheeks and then Jungkook's reaching out to the table and pulling his camera , snapping a picture.

"You're such a weirdo!" Areum laughs , too turned on to be annoyed.

"No, just a man. A man in love." Jungkook leans down, pushing his hips down into hers and she gasps at the friction. They make quick work of their jeans and suddenly its skin on skin and she's not sure if she's doing this right.

"Jungkook.. I..I.."

"Hey, relax. I got you." Jungkook holds her close, just holding her, cradling her almost and the familiar words smooth away her apprehensions and he's moving closer, trying to pull more sounds out of her, his lips tracing the line of her chest, tongue swirling around one nipple before moving down and down, dipping lightly into her belly button.

And then the camera is tossed to the side, Jungkook flipping them over with ease , his lips moving down , tongue dipping into the curve of her waist down and then further down , lightly licking at the sensitive bundle of nerves near her center and Areum's pretty certain she loses her mind at that point.

"You're amazing." He whispers, and she nearly flies off the bed when Jungkook slides a single digit in, slowly , so slowly. She’s wet and ready but her body is still stuck in auto pilot and she wants to close her legs instinctively.

"Relax for me." Jungkook whispers, lips close to her ear, licking and teasing .

"I'll make it good. Just relax for me." Jungkook says again, gently, lapping at her neck and Areum unclenches her thighs letting him work his way in, sighing when the slide becomes a little more easy and a little more familiar.

"So beautiful." Jungkook whispers and Areum laughs, shaking her head.

"It's dark, you can't even see-"

"I can’t see but I can feel you. i can feel you and you’re so fucking gorgeous." He slips another finger in and curls his fingers against the walls of her insides and the gentle press of the pad of his finger is too much and not enough , all at once. Her head falls back into the pillow, all coherency leaving her body in a single whoosh of breath.

"Look at me. Only me." She whispers when Jungkook thrusts into her for the first time and Jungkook nods shakily and he pushes in, leaving her trembling at the ache and the pain and wanting to cry out, but she swallows it all down because she knows it’s going to get better .

"Don't wander off. " Areum whispers, pulling him down for a kiss and Jungkook pushes in deeper, earning a gasp. He wishes he could explain, that he can't ever think of anything but her because she is the perfect dream.

“I love this. I love you. “ she whispered and he had to physically restrain himself from burying himself to the hilt inside her. Her body was still getting used to him. He didn’t want to hurt her but God, she felt so amazing around him. the heat and wetness driving him crazy in a way that couldn’t be explained.

“Hold me tight.”

And she did.

With her arms and her legs and her body and her.....everything.

When she clenched around him, his mind went blissfully blank, her orgasm hitting him like an earth shattering, bone melting , heart stopping explosion of bliss.

He fell against her, careful not to crush her with his weight and rolled to the side gathering her close.

Someday he would hurt her, he was sure of it. He was an idiot after all and he knew he would find a way to muck this up and ruin it for them but for now, he wasn’t going to think about any of that.

For now, he was going to enjoy the intimacy of making love to the woman he loved.

Author’s Note : Hope you guys liked it! it was supposed to be very angsty but its really not lol....

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

#bts smut #bts fics #bts fanfics #jungkook smut #jungkook fics

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kaisa-ryo · 3 years

Text

Attention deficit (pt. 1)

jujutsu kaisen

Characters: Itadori Yuji, Satoru Gojo, Megumi Fushiguro, Inumaki Toge, Sukuna Ryōmen, Nanami Kento, Suguru Geto

Warning: English isn't my native language!

☆.。.:*・°☆.。.:*・°☆.。.:*・°☆.。.:*

Itadori Yuji

Itadori in this situation acts, oddly enough, completely primitive. The less attention he sees from you, the more he tries to get him back. In other circumstances, this might even seem exaggerated, but here and now this is the most critical moment. What does he do? Yes, everything in a row: drops the book, turns its pages, rummages in the bag, humming softly to himself, and so on ... And all this continues until it comes to stroking the hips and lightly squeezing one palm, while the other rewrites the abstract ...

- I miss the old y/n. - he gives out with sadness in his eyes.

At this moment, the game of interest begins: you feel how simultaneously there is a feeling of spontaneous and purposeful manipulation, how you are gently and imperceptibly pushed towards the long-awaited goal.

In such a situation, one could easily succumb, but you, resisting this, answer:

- Yuji, I'm very busy right now.

It would seem that a strong guy fights curses, trains with the strongest shamans, but with ordinary words it is so easy to break.

It's hard for you to realize that right now he is depressed because of you. It's unusual to see a sad Yuji almost always smiling and making others do the same. Especially you.

And so you compromise, intertwining your fingers, frowning slightly and pretending to listen to something inside yourself ... After that, Yuji remains in this position for a long time, as if afraid to frighten you off, because now such closeness between you is too valuable to miss out.

Satoru Gojo

It turns out that sometimes even acting like a fool doesn't help you pay attention to Gojo. First, the way you constantly focus on the same thing, so that the words in your speech get confused, takes on a comic character, and he comes to the idea that, for no reason, for no reason, you decided that work is more important to you than himself. Then you stop paying attention to him altogether. You no longer look at him from under your brows, do not frown at the idiotic jokes with which he is trying to distract you, as it was yesterday. Satoru notices that you are much smaller. He is puzzled and even confused. Finally, it occurs to him that you just have nothing to do, and comes up with the craziest idea to entertain you.

- What are you doing? - a voice of a man sounded nearby, who had been watching you with interest for some time.

There was no answer. However, it is not surprising.

- Okay, okay, you don't have to answer... - He looked away.

This was his usual technique. After asking several meaningless questions, he suddenly fell silent, as if giving you the opportunity to think over the answer properly, and he himself imperceptibly removed, leaving you in complete confusion. But this time, due to the circumstances, the technique had to be slightly changed.

In the next moment, he was already pressing you to him and, taking advantage of this, with his other hand began to explore the curves of your body. The reaction was as if you were doused with boiling water or doused with cold water.

- What are you doing? - You asked in a trembling voice.

- Checking to see if you got fat after we lost sex. - still clinging to you, he answered. You were taken aback and began to push him away from you.

- I have not grown fat, let me go! You barked, feeling his arms tighten. - Let go! Fool! Let go!

Hands rested on your back, and he began to rock you slowly, stretching the moment when you finally stop resisting.

- It's okay, y/n. You just need to calm down. - he whispered, not hearing your words.

There is a mess in my head, the goal of your resistance has fled somewhere, and you start desperately hugging the man while he grins at the fact that he managed to do what he wanted.

Megumi Fushiguro

Megumi is not one of those who will behave like a child, attracting attention to herself when you do not even know the reason for her loss. He will speak to you as soon as he notices it.

- Do you want to talk about it?

You rub your eyes with fatigue, but you shouldn't ignore Fushiguro's question, because it concerns the two of you. No matter how serious his intentions are, he will always be there to remind you that you can talk to him about what worries you.

- I... will hardly give any good advice, but I will try to make it easier for you after the conversation. Megumi continues after a minute of your silence.

Even such a seemingly small detail as being able to talk to someone else significantly reduces stress and other not-so-good emotions. And the guy knows it.

- You can always count on my help. - already with a drop of confidence he says, and it's like the touch of a soft, pleasant hand on your shoulder. Of course, he does this primarily because he is worried, but this is only a secret cover for the fact that he is upset that you turned away from him, without noticing the real reason.

"Fushiguro, if I do this, I don't know... I... will feel like this..." The words elude you. It’s hard to even think about what you’ll say next.

The guy spreads his arms to give you room to hug and apologize, but you just put your head on his shoulder. You don't want to talk about anything else. The chest against which your head is pressed turns into a pillow. And then a quiet voice is heard:

- I'm not mad at you. You can stay here as long as you like.

But here you won't need anything as long as Fushiguro is around.

Inumaki Toge

Not surprisingly, the first thought that comes to him is "it's all because of the damned speech."

Does he talk to you too little? Maybe he is too quiet and invisible for you? Perhaps you are afraid that someday he will take control of you? From such questions echoing in my head, my jaws come together and a lump appears in my throat. But the worst thing is that Toge begins to doubt his right to meet with you, because he cannot even talk to you with dignity, as a person to a person. Even your sweet persistence, which sometimes breaks through the boundaries of ordinary attempts to turn the conversation back on track, does not help. As a result, when it comes to your attention deficit, he begins to think that all this time you did not notice him, as if he was one of those whom you forgot on the first day.

- Okaka? - the young man has been trying to attract your attention with his eyes for a long time, but it seems that even words cannot help.

- Sorry, Toge. I'm not in the mood today...

The guy was actually a perfectionist and would rather have your smile shine every day. I wish he could turn back time right now, scroll to the moment when something went wrong and fix it at any cost.

Inumaki tucked a lock of your hair behind his ear to see your face behind it. He knew you had flawless skin and plump, sensual lips. He would admire your face for hours.

The next second, the blond rested his head on your lap, looking into your eyes. You liked such cute things from him. They weren't vulgar or inappropriate. They were what she needed.

You smile faintly and stroke the hair on the back of his head, touching his cheek with your fingertips.

Sukuna Ryōmen

This is the case when Sukuna uses passive aggression. Slightly wrong, some small sign of ignorance - his speech turns into direct pressure on your relationship with him. He can really hurt you a lot if you don't appreciate his efforts to make you even a little happier. Most often they are small and insignificant, the kind that anyone would do, but for the King of Curses, this is really something grandiose. And since he has many ways to destroy your relationship, if you think he made a mistake, remember how it hurts him.

- Will you ignore me again? - Sukun asked with imperious anger, the last pieces of despair were dying in his soul. - And where is your mercy? If I have become disgusting to you, why do you continue to need me?

There was nothing to answer. It was not pride that tormented him at all, but an ever-deeper regret that with your equanimity you just caused another outbreak of rage in him. Most of all, the thought that you, perhaps, does not even notice it, and your eyes clouded with pain glide over something that is very dear to him, terrified him.

The dead silence continued, and my chest ached more and more. Then there was a soft groan:

- Y/n, I love you.

Tears ran down your cheeks, but did not brush them away with my hand. You knew it wasn't going to help. Bitter emotions generated by the word "love" are not able to be burned out on the face, like the sun on clay. You can't stop feeling. And all the same, looking at you was as painful as seeing your motionless glazed gaze.

He hugged you from the back as soon as he felt that you were repenting. Like the time you forgave him for calling you your own. He had strong hands - you can be sure. He was very gentle. You felt less pain. Maybe in the future it will be difficult for him to remember this, but now he tightly squeezed you in his arms and was so affectionate that you wanted him to never let you go.

Nanami Kento

He begins to suspect that something is wrong very early. First, morning kisses disappeared somewhere before leaving for work, then sincere conversations at the table, and then completely short meetings with glances. Moreover, the last remnants of intimacy are gone. Nanami began to think that something had happened to you. He always tried to protect you from any problems. And so you found yourself right in front of him, so closed and detached, he could not so easily take away the comfort and peace that he had been creating for so long and skillfully. And first of all, of course, he will lend you a helping hand to make it easier for you as quickly as possible.

A perplexed look will appear from under dark eyelashes after a man touches your forehead with his palm. It seems that the whole thing is not about health.

- You don't have a fever. He began.

- I know, thanks.

But Kento was clearly hinting at something.

- So what's up? - then you know what Nanami means. But she said nothing.

- Y/n, I do not want to impose anything on you, I just need to know what is happening to you so that our relationship with you does not suddenly go downhill.

The man took your hand and brought it to his lips. Nanami felt that if he said something now, he would commit tactlessness. And so he was silent, waiting for your answer.

- Sorry... - Tears began to burn my eyes. - I am very, very ashamed. I... it's just hard for me now, but it will pass by itself. I'm sure.

You pressed as tightly as possible to the man, hugged him and buried your face in the chest. He put his hand on your head encouragingly. I already didn't care about the problem as a whole. Now for you there was only what you felt - his soft stroking, the smell of a strong male body, warmth and care, and there was nothing but that.

Suguru Geto

He will take it calmly, without intention. But she won't ignore it. Often he will offer tea or something else, just to get at least one word out of you, in an attempt to bring you into conversation. He will not touch you without asking, because he knows about the value of personal space. And yet, for a while, it can fiddle with spontaneous statements in order to simply take away the soul and break a long silence.

- I see your day is going well... - Geto smiles with restraint. - Lots of news for me?

Guessing that he is once again trying to create a dialogue between you was almost nothing. But you are, of course, silent.

- I see. - Suguru sits down next to you, as close to your side as possible, not giving a damn if you don't like it.

- Maybe I offended you in some way? - he continues. - Or are you just not too open in your thoughts?

- Nothing. It's okay. - you throw.

- But it seems to me that no. - he takes your hand in his, as if trying to make you smile. “I think you have something to tell me, don’t you? He raises his eyebrows, expecting your reaction. Instead of answering, you grimace with a shrug. Suguru repeats the question:

- So what happened? Why don't you want to share your thoughts with me?

- What would you like? You ask. - Would you be happy to know that there is a perfect girl with great manners, beautiful and intelligent, whom you deserve?

To be honest, Suguru did not expect such an answer. You can see that he is a little dumbfounded, but quickly comes to his senses. And then he starts laughing - so sweet and sincere that you start to feel embarrassed and blush with shame.

- And I was already expecting something more terrible. He laughs. - Okay, be it your way. I'm not a particularly sentimental person. I do not know what to say.

- Tell me you feel terribly in love. - grabbing his wrist, you say.

The brunette makes a startled face again. But you do not retreat - you hold him for a few more seconds, forcing him to surrender. - Only from the bottom of my heart ...

- Y/n, I feel terribly in love with you and will never fall in love again next time. So? He asked, grinning.

Wiping away the tears of happiness, you hugged him without words, while he, hugging you with one hand, exhaled with relief.

☆.。.:*・°☆.。.:*・°☆.。.:*・°☆.。.:*

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jaehyunspeachparty · 3 years

Text

9. If Santa would know this… (m)

"Are we really supposed to go in there?" You stood with Johanna in front of the sex shop and look at the shop in disbelief. It didn't look like a real sex shop, but you had never really visited one in Korea. "Yes! I'm single now and my vibrator has stopped working." Johanna quickly pulled you into the shop and you try to meet her quickly. "Thank God the twins are with Mia. I couldn't have taken them with me," you say and Johanna rolled her eyes. "This is a child-free zone, which means that we are not talk about the children here too." Johanna went straight to the shelf where there is a large selection of vibrators. You had a massager, but somehow you never dared use a vibrator. "Wow okay, they actually look really pretty," you say and stroke the dark red silicone with the gold handle. "This is our luxury model. It can be easily charged via USB and lasts up to 30 hours." Suddenly there was a saleswoman with you and she smiled friendly. "And it's waterproof. So perfect for the bathtub," she said with a wink. You look at the dildo and you don't quite know what to think of it. "It looks so abstract," you say and Johanna laughed. "Where do you live, Y/N? Have you never seen a vibrator?" "Well, yes ..." You got kind of shy. You never really bothered with it. "No worries. We have women who don't come to us until they are 60 years old. It's never too late to start." The saleswoman was really cute. She looked so innocent and never thought she would work in a sex shop. "When I had toys, I got them as a present. But I've never had anything like that. I don't know how to use it." You look at the dildo again and it fascinated you. "This is a rabbit vibrator. It can be inserted very gently vaginally while the smaller stimulation arm lies on the clitoris. This can also be massaged with the thicker end of the shaft before insertion. If you want, you can use a water-based lubricant that makes things easier There are 2 motors that are controlled independently of each other. After just one push of a button, 7 varied vibration programs give you new feelings and intense orgasms. " "Okay wow. That sounds intense," you say and you're close to buying this. "Yes, intensive is the right word. I think I'll take that," says Johanna and immediately took a pack. "It sounds good, but I'm not sure ..." you confess, and it irritates you. "Why? It's just for fun." Johanna laughed and shrugged her shoulders. "Well, my sex life is actually very good. I only used my massager during the time when Jaehyun wasn't there that often," you whisper and Johanna laughed. "That has nothing to do with it. It's just self-love, like a face mask. Even if Johnny fucked me good all night, I satisfied myself. It's more about that there is a time for myself and for me to relax." Johanna was right about what she said. This would be a nice change in the bathtub. So you decide to buy it. You also buy a lubricant. "Perfect. I am sure that you will have a lot of fun with it. And because it is Christmas now, all of our customers will get a present." The saleswoman packed your things and took out another small box. "What is that?" You ask and she smiled. "These are anal plugs in three different sizes. They fit really perfectly and enable stretching and training by wearing them. This not only simplifies anal intercourse, but also make sex much nicer and more intense. In there are the sizes S and M and you can wear them for as long as you want - whether shortly before anal intercourse to relax and stretch the anus, or longer to train." The cute little saleswoman smiled innocently and you never really know how to react in front of her. "Oh perfect ... thanks," you say uncertainly. "You can make your husband happy, because he loves anal so much." Johanna grinned and you blushed. You once told her that Jaehyun was sometimes really crazy about anal sex. "Well then it's perfect," says the saleswoman and smiled. "Okay these are my things." Johanna put the things on the table and took out her wallet. "If you buy something small, you will also get the butt plugs for free," said the saleswoman again. "No, I'm just divorced. That's enough for me." Johanna winked and the saleswoman nodded and packed the things.

When you came back, you put the dildo in a drawer. But in the next moment Jaehyun was already there. "Hey ..." He hugged you from behind and kissed your neck. "What do you have there?" He asked and you quickly close the drawer. "Johanna took me to the sex shop," you say and turn to him. "And you bought us something nice?" He asked, pointing to the bag in your hands. You nod and open the bag. Jaehyun pulled out the first part. "Lubricant ... always good," he said, grinning. Then he took the next box out of the bag and this time his eyes widened. "Wow. Is that my Christmas present?" Jaehyun grinned and looked at the butt plugs. "Well, we can try something different." You shrug your shoulders. Jaehyun was totally fascinated and barely took his eyes off. "Do you have any idea what we can do with it?" You ask and look up at him with wide eyes. Jaehyun nodded and came very close to your ear and whispered his dirtiest fantasy in your ear. He was really honest but you liked this. "Do you want to? It could be a lot," he said, but you didn't mind. "You stop when I want to, don't you?" You ask and you stroke his chest. Jaehyun nodded and kissed you gently. "Of course."

Jaehyun's plan was wild and you had never done anything like this before. But you were excited and wanted to try it. Jaehyun was even more excited because it had long been his fantasy. He didn't know why, but he was always obsessed with this. First you sleep in the day, because this was hardly possible with children. But as soon as you were awake, Jaehyun snuggled against your back. "Good morning," he whispered while his hands were already on your body. "Good morning," you say and smile. "Do we want to start right away?" He asked and you immediately raise your eyebrows. "Now?" "Well, I've just got my morning boner and I always need breaks to regenerate." You turn around and look at Jaehyun. "Okay, if you like, we can start." Jaehyun then kissed your shoulder and smiled. "You're the best." Then he reached on the small table next to his side of the bed and picked up the lubricant and the butt plug in the size small. He squeezed some lubricant out of the tube and rubbed it over the plug, but also over his length. Then he spread something over your back entrance. "Stay relaxed, I'm very careful." He continued to run his fingers and then gently pressed them into your ass. As always, it was a little uncomfortable, but over time your body relaxed and got used to the stretch. Then he took the plug and pushed it all the way in. Your eyes widened for a moment from the pressure, but then everything was okay. He then turned you around and leaned over you. "Now the pleasant one for you." He took his fingers again and began to massage your clit and Jaehyun was very good at this game. The length of his fingers, their thinness, everything was perfect. He pampered you with one hand and massaged himself with the other. You start to moan and Jaehyun had to let go of his length again and again so that he didn't cum immediately on you. It didn't take long to reach your orgasm. And when you moan and lift your upper body, Jaehyun watched you cuming and pleased himself at the sight. And after you were done, he took your body and lay himself behind you again. "I can't wait to cum inside you," he moaned into your ear and carefully pulled the plug out of you. Then he took lube again and spread it on his dick again. You push your asscheeks aside with your hands and Jaehyun groaned again when seeing that. "Shit, I'm so close." And he immediately pressed his length into it. He was careful, but it didn't take long anyway. He were so close that it happened to him in a moment. As soon as he was completely inside you, he already filled you with his cum. He quickly pulled out its length and put the anal plug back in. "And you think nothing is coming out?" You ask him and it was a strange feeling. "No, and if so, then we have to take the next size," he said with a wink and then kissed you.

Jaehyun stared at you during breakfast. He was curious about how you were feeling and it turns him on. "What do you want to know?" You ask him and you can already guess it. "How does it feel?" He asked, leaning closer to you. You sip your coffee and shrug your shoulders. "Can I see it?" He asked curiously and you had to laugh. You take off your panties and toss them aside, then sit on Jaehyun's lap. He then took a deep breath and stroked your thigh. His hand moved back and forth until he touched plug. "Everything is still tight," he said and bit on his lower lip. "I know," you breath and stroke his collarbone. "You know ..." he breathed and looked up. "The table is the perfect height," he said, grinning. "For what?" You ask and suddenly the Jaehyun picked you up and pushed the plates back. "You know that." He took your clothes off completely and pulled his pants down. "We just had...How can you ..." You couldn't say more, his lips were already on your neck. "You turn me on like that." He stroked your middle and tried as fast as possible to stimulate your clit. He was so ambitious that it even worked pretty quickly for you. And so you end up fucking on your breakfast. In the end he turned you around, pulled the plug out again and came in your ass. He made sure that not too much came out and then he put the plug back in you.

Jaehyun turned up the heat, because he actually liked the idea that you would run around naked all day. Since the children were with your sister and Xiao Jun, you had the whole weekend just to yourself. And it made his plan easier too. But you have to say it was nice walking around naked all day. You love to feel Jaehyun's body on you, even if it's just cuddling. You watch a bit of TV, but Jaehyun is slowly starting to prepare for the next round. He puts his hand on your pearl and massages it very gently, just so that you are stimulated very easily. After all, he still needed time to regenerate himself. He had already done two rounds. "Tomorrow everything will hurt me," you say with a sigh and Jaehyun smiled. "I'll take care of you. We'll take a bath, I'll make you coffee, I cook what you want to eat. How does that sound?" He whispered this in your ear and you smile. "Yes, that sounds very nice," you say and enjoy it as you feel his lips touch your skin. You can see a little further, but you could not concentrate more and more and after the time you come to your climax. "Oh nice. You are so hot when you cum," he breathed and now he started to play with himself. "Wait, I'll help you," you say and sit up. Jaehyun looked at you and watched what you do next. You bend down and start giving him a blowjob. "OH SHIT!" He got loud and buried his fingers in your hair. You press your lips together and do your best, but just before he climaxed, he stopped you. He sat up, turned and pushed your upper body down so that only your ass was up. He pulled the plug out and finished his orgasm again in your ass. He groaned loudly and you were surprised he liked it so much. Over the years, you have always been able to find out more about him. “I think I have to put now the bigger one inside you. Is this okay?” You nood and feel the pressure. "Are you still okay? You can always say it if it's too much for you," he asked carefully, but you didn't mind yet. "Everything's fine," you say with a smile and then kiss him.” "You know, I think that's so nice right now," said Jaehyun and put the blanket over your body. "The sex?" "No, I mean the time with you here. We're alone in the house ... we can do what we want ..." Jaehyun gently caressed your body and it was so relaxing to feel him that way. "Yeah, it feels a bit freer", you say and close your eyes for a moment. "We never had freedom in our relationship. Either we were in the dorm or we already had children," said Jaehyun then and kissed your shoulder. "Well, we had my little apartment." You now turn over to him and smile. "That's right. The time there was very nice." Jaehyun looked deep into your eyes and now begins to gently caress your stomach. "Do you miss it?" You ask him curiously. "Sometimes I miss the time alone with you..." He kissed the base of your chest and you start to stroke his hair. "Do you sometimes regret becoming a father so early?" You ask him and give him a worried look. But he shook his head. "No, definitely not. I have to say that I miss the sound of their footsteps on the floor." He had to laugh and so did you. "But since the twins, I think the time between us has been falling short. Which is clear because I work and we have four children. I just want to say that I am enjoying the time with you today very much." He then lays his head on your chest and somehow you had to agree to him. Four children were a lot of work and Jaehyun also worked a lot. You had a little time for each other, but never that much. "Maybe we should take a weekend like this from time to time, like now. The children can also visit your parents from time to time. Now the twins are no longer that strenuous and they can be kept busy." You especially didn't want to give the babies to them because it was exhausting because they were very hungry and always needed something. Since Jaehyun's mother was still not quite fit, you didn't want to overwhelm her with the children. "I think that's a good idea," he said, closing his eyes.

You didn't know how it happened. But you talked, watched TV and at some point you sat on Jaehyun's lap and rode him. The plug in you gave you a new kind of stimulation. The saleswoman was right, sex is more interesting with such a plug. Jaehyun, who had already cum in you three times, now had more stamina. "Yesss, that's good," you moan and get closer to your next climax. You liked the feeling and how much time Jaehyun took for you. The longer he fucked you intensely, the better your orgasm was. When the children were in the house, you were always quick because you could be interrupted at any moment. After you cum, Jaehyun did the same thing as before. He stuck the plug out, just stuck his tip in, spread his cum inside you and put the plug back in. Meanwhile, his previous orgasm ran a little out of you. Jaehyun cleaned you up and then kissed your ass. "What do you do in the end when everything has to go." To be completely honest, you didn't quite understand what he thought about it. "I don't know, the thought of all of my cum inside you just makes me hard." He grinned and you kiss him. Well, it was kind of a Christmas present for him and it was kind of satisfying for you too. But after a while it did hurt you.

In the course of the day it cum again a few more times in you and at some point it was enough for you. "Jaehyun, please take it out", you say and already feel the pressure. "Does it hurt?" He asked and you nod. "Come on," he lifted you up in his arms and carried you up to the next floor in your bed. He then placed a large black towel under you and kissed you gently before spreading your legs. He looked at the plug and could see his cum already leak. Jaehyun groaned at the sight of it and you could already see his length starting to grow. How could he still get hard so quickly? "I see, you're already red," he said then and stroked beside the spot. "Can I still fuck you or is it too painful?" He asked and his dark eyes looked up at you. "Yes, fuck me." You grin and Jaehyun was excited like a little kid. He pulled the plug out and you can feel a surge coming out. You can also feel how Jaehyun got louder and he began to massage himself. The result turned him on and you had rarely seen him like this. "Can I then take a picture of it at the end?" He asked excitedly and you hadn't expected it at all. "WHAT?" You look up, startled. "Without your face. I would love to have it as a template for lonely hours." Jaehyun was really fascinated by his result and also kind of proud. "Okay good. But be careful that nobody sees it. Especially not the children!" "I promise it. I keep it safe just like the sex tape we made when you were pregnant," Jaehyun winked, and you had almost forgotten about it. "Okay ..." You lean back and Jaehyun just kept going. He pushed his length into your ass and immediately his eyes turned inward. He got loud, louder than usual. He let go of his inhibitions and he was just himself. You have to admit, you liked that. Because Jaehyun felt it so strongly and the tension between you was more intense than it had been for a long time, even you were really turned on. Hearing Jaehyun so loud was something new. He just let himself go and could now live out his most secret sexual fantasies on you. And so it came about that he cum loudly too. He sounded so satisfied, so fulfilled, and he stared at his result. Immediately he took his phone and photographed everything between your legs while his cock was still hard. Then he took the towel and cleaned you up. But you twitch a little, because in some places you were sore. "I'm sorry," he said then, looking a bit embarrassed. You sit up and take his face in your hands. "You should feel sorry for nothing. Everything is fine. If it had bothered me, I would have said something." You smile and Jaehyun looked up relieved. "I made quite a mess. What if we take a bath and I take care of you?" He looked at you with his puppy eyes and you nod. "That would be great." You kiss him and you only spent the rest of the evening with gentle kisses and tender touches. Just cuddle and be together.

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keilemlucent · 4 years

Text

lavender latte: iii

(T (for now!))

hawks | takami keigo x reader

ao3

chapter 1 || chapter 2 || chapter 4

word count: 4.2k

a cheeky drink and some mutual sabotage.

warnings: oh no, they say s*x, fluff, pining, the usual, and a wittle angst on the side, reader smokes cigs bc its a salem trademarked fic thing

enjoy folks ;^) the whole of this piece is gonna be about? ten chapters. so. hold on tight!!!

beta read by @keiqos, heart EYES

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“Let that sit for a second or you’ll burn yourself—”

“Don’t need to tell me twice, angel. I know the drill.” Hawks replied with a wink.

You weren’t ever going to get tired of that.

You really expected Hawks to disappear out of your life. You really, truly expected him to run off for good. How many bigger, better, and more important things did he have to do? Even if you managed to speak to him and regard him like any other customer (or, perhaps acquaintance, and more recently, friend — ), your mind swam with insecurities that only seemed to get worse over time.

You were waiting for the metaphorical thread to snap.

You waited for the day Hawks simply would stop texting you flirty bullshit on a somewhat regular basis.

But, holy fuck, the dude didn’t.

You couldn’t think of why. You weren’t complaining about the attention, but you also were terrified of getting too used to it. Hawks was a part... bird (?) right? He was flighty by nature.

Despite this, Hawks continued to not only text you but also stopped by the shop fairly frequently for his special, quirk-fueled beverage fix. Politely, he’d text you the day before he planned to make an appearance to check and see if you were working, and then show up the next day like it was nothing.

He usually wouldn’t stay for long; the hero was ungodly busy and always on the move. But, he always took the time to flirt and get a full description of his drink before dashing out to save the world once more.

Most days he visited were his ‘hero work’ days. He’d appear in his costume, done up and dashing for a sip and a quick talk before disappearing once more into the skies. Every once in a while, Hawks had an ‘office’ day where he’d be confined to his agency to catch up on his insane backlog of paperwork. On these occasions, Hawks would talk (stall) at the tea shop for as long as possible. You talked and joked with him as long as he would let you. Sure, it put you behind on work, but no one at the shop was going to tell you off for fraternizing with the number two hero (whose repeated presence was drawing more customers anyways). You both reveled in each other's attention, drinking in the other’s slowly softening smiles and quick wit.

On this day, Keigo’s wings were the shittiest they had been in a while. Plucked and almost barren with how much he’d been working lately. Total exhaustion seemed like it was constantly on the horizon, tugging as his eyelids and weighing down his chest each morning.

It was easier to get out of bed when he got to think about seeing you.

Sure, your drinks were a perk. Very much so. He was getting so used to the artisan beverages you crafted that the taste of his normal canned coffee was starting to bother him.

But, what his real thrill in visiting the tea shop was that he got to see you, and that made his heart pound.

He sat across from you, looking down into your newest drink. It swirled between dark and milky, a heady, rich aroma billowing up with the steam it produced. He had requested something ‘surprising, new, and horribly caffeinated’ as deep fatigue was the worst villain he’d likely see that day. You had just nodded, cheekily starting to prepare his drink with a bounce in your step, pupils going wide.

“I feel like you’re gonna start running out of ideas one of these days,” Keigo laughed, adjusting himself on his stool, gloves and jacket removed. He almost looked like a normal patron.

You grinned to yourself, idly cleaning around you as you often did, “I dunno, I’ve got a lot.”

Hawks raised an eyebrow, “Tell me about them.”

“Nope, top-secret,” You shook your head, digging into your apron to flash him the small notepad you carried on you.

Scrawled in nasty handwriting, you carried your many ‘feeling’ ideas around with you. Different concepts and abstractions all scribbled down, a nice long list to look back on whenever Hawks would make his appearances and his own vague requests. Your backlog of ideas made it easy to find something more than suitable to make for him.

When Hawks saw your notepad his eyes widened, tilting his head and a devious smirk coming to his lips.

Your expression fell, and you stuffed the papers back into your pocket, hiding your hot face by idly cleaning some more.

You left yourself very open for teasing, it seemed.

(Not that you or Keigo minded.)

“You keep a little list of all of your ideas! I’m beyond flattered,” Hawks ran a hand through his hair, flashing a cocky smile for you.

“I have to stay prepared, can’t be disappointing my celebrity sugar daddy,” You winked as Hawks’s eyes went wide, half-hearing a choke get caught in his throat. (You loved it when you were able to get him visibly flustered. What a treat.) You nodded down to the drink, “Should be good to try now.”

Keigo really liked spending time with you. He knew it was always fleeting and short and consistently he wanted to find reasons to stay with you at the tea shop counter for longer and longer. Your quips and chides continued to get quicker and more clever and he was having an increasingly difficult time keeping his cool around you. Most of the time he smoothed himself easily, not showing a trace other than that which he neurologically couldn’t control.

But sometimes, you were bold enough and ballsy enough to get him to gag on his literal words and he was positive that you were the only person to ever have him break composure in such a way.

He covered his weakened poise by sipping the new drink, mindfully letting the taste wash over his tongue.

Increasingly, you’d been changing up the so-called ‘vibe’ of your beverages. It seemed like each time Keigo dropped in, you had something new and vibrant to show him.

This drink was particularly different.

The taste was rich, dark, and smooth, rolling into the back of his throat and down his spine. It coated his insides with a warm, low heat. Peeking through were sweet, light accents, warm but almost... teasing?

His dick twitched.

Hawks’s mouth dropped open, any and all professional veneers dropped as you just beamed so fucking smugly at him.

“What do you think?” You leaned a bit forward, bouncing on your toes with excitement.

“Is... Is this supposed to taste like sex?” Hawks asked, taking another mouthful to confirm. Based on the way his eyes briefly shut and some of the tension rolled from his shoulders, he thoroughly confirmed it.

“Technically, it’s crafted based on like... a late-night rendezvous. I left it fairly up to interpretation beyond that. The rest is on you.” You shrugged, still bouncing as Hawks took another chug.

“What the fuck, (Y/N),” Pleasant shock colored his features, but clear amusement stretched across his lips as he continued to drink.

“You wanted something surprising and horribly caffeinated. That’s a dark chocolate mocha with two extra shots, our in-house raspberry and rhubarb syrup, a bit of white chocolate syrup, and a few of my add-ins as well. It’s pretty different from what I’ve made you before,” You blinked at him, stomach twisting as his expression remained unguarded. “I... I probably should’ve asked before giving you a drink that definitely could’ve been taken as sex. That’s my bad. I can remake you something else if you’d like?”

Keigo shook himself from his stupor, shaking his head and quickly regaining his composure. He took another sip to emphasize his words, “No, nope. It’s okay. Definitely okay. The drink is really good. I’m just now wondering something.”

“And, what’s that?” You asked, reaching behind the counter to grab your own iced beverage.

“Can your quirk be used to manifest bad feelings and concepts, just like good ones?” Keigo asked. Normally, he’d add more nuance, but he was getting impatient and sloppy around you. He’d have to keep that in check.

Especially with the way your shoulders drew up and tensed. You turned a bit away from him, any and all potential for eye contact torn away.

He hit a nerve.

“The type of abstract feeling doesn’t matter, I can emulate it,” You replied, pulling at your nails. Keigo had long picked up that it was one of your habits when your anxiety spiked.

He dropped it, but didn’t forget. There were public files on quirks. Maybe he’d look into it. Maybe. It felt a bit invasive, but considering plenty of that data was freely accessible, it hardly was an invasion of privacy, right?

(Except for the fact that it obviously made you very uncomfortable to discuss the more unsavory potentials of your quirk.)

(He just wouldn’t tell you.)

Keigo switched topics, easily rolling away from the topic, “Any particular... event that inspired this one?”

You pressed your hands into the counter, leaning over it to glare at him, “Are you referring to something with that comment, Hawks?”

He shuddered when you said his name, but you don’t notice.

“Maybe I am, maybe I’m not,” Keigo shrugged easily, going for another sip.

The drink was inspired by the several day cinematic, wine-bender you went on a week or two prior. An entire weekend with just you, your cats, three entire bottles of wine, and a backlog of movies to catch up on. You tried to consume lots of different types of media, but what had been catching your eye lately had been anything with gushy romance for fairly obvious reasons.

(There was an embarrassing amount of ideas for drinks that were a bit too romantic to properly indulge with your quirk. You’d never tested the limits of how certain feelings could manifest, and you weren’t quite ready to face the reality where you could make people nut from caffeinated milk.)

“It is good though, the drink,” Hawks smacked his lips together as if it would make his coming analysis more credible. “It definitely does taste like sex, but more so complicated. Darker.”

“Deeper.” You smiled. “Your palette is getting more refined. I’m proud.”

“Are you saying it was bad to begin with?” Hawks pouted, flashing you falsely weepy eyes and a puffed out lip.

You rolled your eyes, “Yes, you yourself have admitted this. You drink canned coffee still, so I can’t even call your taste good.”

Hawks gasped, putting a hand to his chest, “I’m hurt, truly wounded.”

“I’m sure you are, tailfeathers.”

“I really thought I had reliably moved up to ‘birdboy’, angel.”

You snorted, covering your mouth with your hand, “Just goes to show how quickly the tables turn, tailfeathers.”

Hawks’s pager suddenly chimed, a familiar sign. He took a quick look at it and sighed, moving to re-robe. You were surprised by the speed at which he did so, and the way he became tense so quickly.

It made you realize that he was always tense.

(Unless he was talking to you.)

“I thought today was an office day?” You asked, a bit of a disappointment clouding your voice.

Hawks just gave a small smile, fully plastering back on his heroic facade, “Duty calls. Lots happening lately.”

He flicked his visor back over his eyes, slid you your normalized wad of cash, and whisked himself out the door, immediately taking to the skies from the streets.

He’s in a bit of a hurry.

He... didn’t even say goodbye.

Wonder what’s happening?

Truthfully, Keigo was a bit startled by the notice on his pager. The whole reason he’d started patrolling the particular neighborhood the tea shop was in was because there was word of a villain syndicate working nearby. It hardly seemed right for the neighborhood, but Keigo knew that villains hid anywhere. Whatever they were planning was still relatively shrouded, but it was clear that it needed to be treated delicately. That particular neighborhood was rife with pedestrians, businesses, and homes and any sort of villainous activity had the possibility of reaping a heavy amount of collateral damage. Keigo and the Commission had been on their guards about it, but things had been steadily becoming more intense over the past few weeks.

Plopping himself on a rooftop, Keigo took up residence to stake out his newest lead, watching figures and silhouettes in a nearby office building.

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Funnily enough, the rest of your week went horribly. Just downright shitty. You figured at some point, things would let up, brighten, but they didn’t. Each day brought some new, personal calamity.

The first was a trip to the emergency vet with one of your cats after she swallowed a hair tie. An expensive vet bill later, she was perfectly healthy, but you remained wracked with anxiety.

Another day, the owner of the tea shop paid a visit to chew you out for your newest tea blends not fulfilling his picky seasonal requests. You were relieved it had nothing to do with how Hawks monopolized your time. Still, getting yelled at easily within earshot of both coworkers and customers made your insides twists.

The final small disaster was when a particularly asshole-ish customer chucked a hot drink all over you and your cute white sweater. One of the younger openers had been dealing with a difficult patron and an incorrect order, nothing out of the ordinary. When you tried to step in and de-escalate the situation, the man ripped the lid from his cup and splashed you with the burning liquid. You held back any sounds of pain even as your skin stung like hell when you offered to remake his drink.

One of your managers luckily allowed you to go home early. Thank god.

By the end of your shitty week, you fell into your apartment and just cried. White sweater stained and day feeling fairly ruined, you let yourself have a good, solid sobbing session to just release how terrible things had been.

It would pass, you knew. But it sucked at the moment.

It also didn’t help that Hawks had been particularly absent after running out the last time he came around. He’d still managed to shoot you a funny text or two, but mostly, it was silence from him. You rationalized it by reminding yourself of how quickly he flew off at the end of his last visit, hero business forever more pertinent than you and the shop.

You reminded yourself to keep yourself grounded in Hawks obvious impermanence, even if you were starting to get used to (and really like) having the hero around.

You decided that your Friday evening would be good. You treated yourself to a hot shower, noting with a hiss the pink scalded skin that covered your chest from your collar bones to just below your breasts. You threw on a facemask and uncorked a bottle of wine you had been saving for a rainy day.

You clicked on one of your favorite shows, an older cartoon that brought you consistent comfort in times like those. Curled up with a knit throw blanket and your healthy cats, it did help soothe the burns, mental and physical.

That is until you got a bit too drunk on red wine and it turned into sad drunk.

So, you made your way to the roof.

You weren’t fucked up beyond belief, despite the fact that you were towing an open bottle of red in one hand and a pack of cigarettes in the left. The cold would sober you up, along with the nicotine. You hoped it would force you out of your head.

Upon throwing open the door to your apartment complex’s rooftop, you were made very aware of its wintertime disuse. The gardens that grew during the summer were snowcovered. The chairs and tables for lounging were in a similar state. You didn’t mind.

The view was still nice.

You set down your bottle and zipped up your coat. Quickly, you brushed off the flurries from a rickety lawn chair and plopped yourself down. You threw on some music from your phone, playing some sweet, old songs that made your chest ache when you needed it to.

The city stretched in front of you, beyond the rooftop. You didn’t live in a particularly wealthy district, but there was no shortage of dazzling neon and bright street lights dotting the ground below. You watched how the rest of the city stretched far beyond your little pocket, still gleaming with multi-hued lighting and dazzling in the wash of the crescent moon.

You took a swig, fishing for your self-dubbed ‘sad cigarettes’ and lit up. With your exhale, you watched as smoke lazily swirled away, carried by the soft winter wind. If you were any less drunk, you’d be freezing.

A shadow, winged, fell across the snow.

“You know, I get nervous when I see pretty girls on rooftops with bottles in their hands,” You jumped at the voice, whipping your head to the source.

Hawks stood, scarlet wings fanned outwards, on the lip of the rooftop.

Your eyes widened.

You took another sip.

He gave an affectionate laugh, jumping down into the area where you were seated.

Keigo had just been out on his normal, nightly patrol. The leak had been correct and he’d been stealthily tracking the villains while completing the rest of his hero duties. He was able to laugh off his exhaustion, but it was starting to eat him. Several cans of coffee a day was hardly doing it for him. He hid his sleepiness and aches well, but that didn’t mean it wasn’t difficult. All the same, his typical roles had to be fulfilled.

He was surprised to see you, all alone on a rooftop with a lit cigarette between your fingers. Keigo let himself be surprised before noting that ‘ yes, you definitely probably live in this apartment building and you’re just outside to smoke’, but the sudden jolt of panic he felt was crushingly unbearable.

Mostly because it was personally protective and not heroically instinctual and he couldn’t start acknowledging that aspect of his feelings for you. Not yet.

Keigo walked towards you, asking, watching you blink blearily at him “You doing alright?”

Eyes downcast, you shrugged, “We all feel shitty sometimes. Just depends on how you cope, ‘ya know?”

“And how do you cope, (Y/N)?” Keigo asked, pausing before brushing off a chair. “Mind if I join you for a bit? I could use a second to rest my wings.”

You nodded, almost offering him the bottle, but quickly pulling it back to your chest before taking another inhale. Offering a pro hero alcohol while he was pretty obviously working seemed like a bad move, even in your tipsy state.

“Most of the time, I watch nice stuff and distract myself, like most people, ya’ know?” You exhaled as you smoked, relishing the nicotine buzz. “Sometimes, though, I just feel extra shitty and need to extra cope.”

Hawks hummed in agreement, sitting back in the chair. His wings were folded up and over its back, the longest feathers trailing in the small snowdrift behind him.

“Do you get cold, being in the sky all the time?” You asked, eyes going cloudy as you stared up at the lights of the city and higher into the sky.

“Most of the time,” Hawks chuckled, throwing his arms behind his head, “I’ve told you this, angel. It was one of our first conversations.”

Your eyes widened at the realization, mouth open with a hearty laugh.

It made Keigo’s eyes water a little. He blamed it on the wind.

“I’m silly, I can’t believe I forgot,” You nestled back into your chair, tracing the lines between constellations. “It’s the whole reason you came to the teashop in the first place.”

Your voice resonated, focus foggy. Somewhere else, old memories played in your mind, recounting your first few meetings with Hawks.

A warm, small smile stretched across your face as you traced the stars.

Keigo watched, enraptured. You were cute, especially like this. All bundled up in your winter coat, half-zipped. There was a lot less stress in your shoulders than he normally saw at the shop, especially as your thoughts were so far away.

He wanted nothing more than to commit the contours and shadows of your face in the white moonlight to memory, never forgotten in the blissful cold.

You interrupted his thoughts so beautifully.

“Thanks for talking to me.” You took a sip from your bottle just after speaking, half-drowning your words, but Keigo caught each one. “I appreciate you.”

“P-pardon?” Keigo couldn’t tell if you caught his stutter, but even if you did, you didn’t show it. The comment felt like a jab to his jaw, half-knocking the wind of him and turning him into a filthy masochist. He’d take any whiplash if it meant you saying such kindnesses to him.

How could you just say shit like that?

What exactly did you mean by that?

Why did your attention make his legs tremble?

You turned your attention from the night sky to Hawks, something like uncertainty bubbling in your chest, “I appreciate you, ya’ know? Coming by the tea shop still, teasing each other and shit, you humoring me—”

Hawks interrupted you, feathers tensing at his back.

“I’m not humoring you.” Hawks deadpanned, staring at you oddly seriously. The yolks of his eyes seemed even more intense in the neon and night light.

“You’re... not?”

There was utter disbelief in your voice, accented by the way your jaw was half-opened.

Hawks shook his head, standing in emphasis, feathers fluttering as he did, “ No, angel. Not at all. I visit because...”

I like you.

“Because I like your drinks.”

Because you make me feel good in a way I’ve never felt.

“You’re fun to talk to, too. Added perk.”

Because I want to hear your voice when I breathe and when I die.

“I enjoy it, you know? You're fun.”

Some feeling in your chest, something full of hope, crushed itself and compacted to the point of pain. You sniffled at his admission, blaming it on the cold. In a fucked up, sad way, part of you was so relieved.

He likes the shop. He likes your drinks.

He’s around because he wants to be.

But not because you’re special to him.

His words reminded you of your insignificance in Hawks’s life. No matter how much you craved his attention and words, and more recently found yourself staring at the plumpness of his lips and the curve of his cupids bow and daydreaming about how much you wanted to lean over the tea shop's counter and kiss the constant, teasing smile off his face—

But.

You don’t matter that much to him.

Sure, he likes you, but he’ll never feel the same way about you.

You made the decision then to make the most out of Hawk’s affections and sweet words. You’d take what you could get, even if it was fleeting and probably eventually heartbreaking. It seemed smart, to refuse to get your hopes up for someone so unattainable.

You let out a shaking sigh, “Thank you, Hawks. I appreciate you coming around. You really light up my day.”

Keigo saw the fall of your face and bottled himself up. Shoved down everything. Fuck his feeling, fuck how he felt about you, this was all fucking terrifying. It was getting to be too much and he had to try and control himself.

Just like he’d been taught so well.

He was just so happy to be around you. He could squash his feelings, even if they were fairly obviously somewhat mutual. God knows that he didn’t know how to handle anything like that.

On the gods, his pager beeped.

“Duty calls?” You said, standing up yourself and brushing off the stray snowflakes.

“Seems so.” Hawks sighed, nodding, “Thanks for letting me rest here. It was good to see you, (Y/N). I’ll see you soon, okay?”

You waved goodbye as Hawks disappeared as quickly as he came, launching himself from the roof with the heavy sound of wing beats.

Soaring away, Keigo risked a final look at you. He swore he saw tears in your eyes.

He forcibly repressed his feelings, reminding himself that your company, words, and quirk-made beverages were more than enough. The flutter in his chest when he thought of you wouldn’t rest, but he could learn to ignore it.

On the roof of your apartment, you felt fatigue in your bones and wetness on your cheeks. You ignored both in favor of smoking another cigarette, soft, melancholy music being your only constant, reliable companion.

You reminded yourself that he, Hawks, was a temporary fixture, more flighty than most and liked you just enough and for surface-level reasons. You could take that. You’d do anything to be around him more, even if it never amounted to anything.

You, just as Keigo did, pressed down any larger feelings.

(The thing about feelings, though, that neither of you was very good at remembering, was that they don’t go away. Sure, you can let them go, but that takes time or a practiced mind!)

(When you take feelings, big, aching, soaking feelings and shove them down into the deepest parts of you, they just tend to make you bleed. The ‘hidden’ feelings color your blood as it spills, even if you don’t notice when it falls and its change in hue.)

(One can only hope that both Keigo and you listened instead of lied.)

Both of your hearts ached, and neither of you fully understood why.

#salem writes #hawks x reader #mha hawks #bnha hawks #takami keigo x reader #keigo takami x reader #reader insert #mha x reader #keigo x reader #hawks x y/n #takami keigo x y/n #lavender latte #bnha x reader

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misterghostfrog · 4 years

Text

So I was reading someones post about what if Jon went back in time to save everyone, and he managed it. He kept Martin away from Prentiss, he Kept Sasha alive, Tim never even know the unknowing existed and he never had Jons paranioa to ruin him. But They never knew, there was never those moments of bonding between the terror. Martin never had that moment when he realized Jon wasn’t just his shitty boss. And sure the assistants were close, but there was no room for Jon. And it gave me thoughts.

Under the cut bc I started to Ramble and it got Long, warning; its Big Sad Hours down there. No happy endings here.

Jon solves all these problems before they start, he fixes it without anyone ever knowing. The assistants are blissfully unaware, maybe he stops sending them on ‘real’ statement followup. The archives are a normal, safe job for all of them. Sometimes it gets too much, pretending he doesn’t know them. So he’ll record, mostly for himself. Sometimes for them, though he’ll never share. He sticks them all in Gertrude's old storage locker, where he knows they’ll never be found.

And then something goes wrong. He knows the unknowing can’t work, of course it can’t. But Nikola doesn’t, none of the avatars know. And Nikola still wants her skin. She still wants his skin, actually. And she’s not afraid to play dirty to get it, she’s hands-on like that. Because why stop at the archivist when he’s got so many lovely ignorant assistants?

So he fixes the problem before she can make good on her threats, she can’t be killed that easily. He knows. But she died during the unknowing, and there are some pretty simple steps to follow to replicate that result. He knows the easiest way to make sure it works is also a death sentence for him. But that’s a simple choice to make. Alright no, it’s not. He’s terrified of death, of dying. He doesn’t want to die, but he can lie to himself. He can delude and say maybe he’ll get another chance. And just in case, he makes sure the assistants know they can quit now.

Tim, Sasha, and Martin don’t know what to make of the news that their boss died mysteriously in an explosion. They know even less what to make of the notes he left them.

Clearly the ramblings of a very unstable man. They all knew Jon was a bit off but this... Well, they all know there’s something weird about the job. But the apocalypse? Really?

Sasha believes some of it, she’s worked in artifact storage. She’s seen what this stuff can do. But, well. Jon’s never come off as the most stable person, and with no proper proof to back up any of this there’s no reason for them to follow suit. After all she’s known lots of people to quit the institute, she even knows for a fact that Eric Delano did it when she was rooting through employee records for perfectly rational legal reasons.

Then Martin gets called up to Elias’s office, and gets the news he’s the new head archivist.

He tries to turn it down, but he’s offered a pay-raise and a promise that he can step down anytime if he doesn’t feel suited to the position. Elias just sees so much potential in him.

Martin tries to feel flattered and not thoroughly terrified by the way Elias says potential. He takes the promotion, after all, he can always step down if it’s too much.

He offers as much when he finds out Sasha probably should have been given the position, but she turns him down. It’s not his fault their boss is a sexist old bastard, and at this rate he’d probably just turn around and give it to Tim.

Things are normal for a few months. Until slowly a strange noise starts to be heard around the archives, a weird sort-of squishing sound with no source. Along with a metallic scent of meat.

An infestation, of course. They’re getting the problem worked on, or so Elias says. But aside from the occasional exterminator coming in to ‘take a look’ nothing ever seems to change. Weird statements start showing up on Martins desk, surrounding meat and twisted up things, eaten alive and wrong. Suddenly he understands how Jon went off his rocker so easily.

It’s hard to believe all this supernatural stuff as it’s suddenly getting crammed down his throat, after so long of the archives being normal in almost every sense of the word it’s like missing a step on the staircase. The more awful statements he finds- that Tim and Sasha confirm -the more he realizes how much his boss was hiding from them.

He wants to quit, he thinks about it, he tries to think about it. But he just, can’t.

It’s another or two month before it happens. Meat and bone and gristle erupt from the floor, taking on horrible mangled shapes of almost-humans reaching out with hands full of teeth and hungry.

They all survive, though Tim gets eaten up a bit more than the rest of them. And they’ll all have nightmares for the rest of their lives. They’re alive.

And they find Gertrude’s body, though none of them know how to feel about it. They’ve realized by now there’s something to Jon’s nonsensical ramblings. And they’re long past regretting not quitting before this all happened.

There’s a section of document storage that got uncovered during the cleaning,an old cot that was shoved behind some of the shelves, and a box that had a few sets of clothes, an old teacup, and a key. The cleaners say they burned the clothes, but the cup and the Key are given to Martin for him to keep to return to whoever left their things in the archive.

Neither of those items belong to Tim or Sasha, so they all assume they belonged to Jon.

They start following Jons footsteps, they find out he was a suspect in an arson case surrounding Carlos Vittery’s old apartment. Nobody was there except one unidentified body. He was arrested for trespassing on a dock, though no charges were filed. There was an incident that ended in the near arrest of one Jude Perry, though no charges were filed and she soon fell off the grid. And then he exploded using C4 he had no way of getting, Nothing concrete, no proper genuine evidence except a series of weird encounters their dead boss had.

Martin Decides to try and hunt down Jude Perry, it takes some time. He has a very nice cup of tea with one Micheal Crew. Who points him in a general direction and is just a bit weird about tall buildings.

Martin finds Jude, and asks her about Jon. She laughs at him, of course. But she tells him anyway. Jon was trying to have her arrested- no, not arrested. Killed. Officer Tonner would have seen to that, he knew one of the Hunt could do her in, well. At least of Officer Tonner’s sort anyway. Jude resisted, naturally. He escaped her clutches only barely, by running. Like a coward. And she escaped the policewoman by playing innocent. She’s still on her tail though, damn dog. It’ll be a long time before she’d rid of her, but she knows better than to run. Oh, he doesn’t know what any of that means, does he? Oh he really doesn’t, how sweet. Just a little baby archivist- she was going to kill him after this. But watching him stumble into his own ruin will be so much more fun.

She sends him on his way with a burn.

Martin is terrified, he genuinely tries to quit. Almost manages it before his computer shuts off. The others try too, and then they all have a lovely freak-out together.

They decide to try and talk to Detective Tonner, which proves easy. She’s the partner of the one who’s been interviewing them. She comes to the institute, and they ask her about Jon. She tells them they believed he was responsible for killing Gertrude, seeing as he was next in line. Martin accidentally Compels her into a statement, and then into admitting she's mostly just saying he killed her because dead men don’t put up fights.

She threatens him right then and there, though Basira comes in and intervenes before anything happens. He files a dispute with the station, and avoids the police after that.

Basira brings him some of the tapes, she says it’s an apology. He’s pretty sure she’s just trying to get him to drop the dispute in the weirdest way possible. He does learn some about Gertrude though, and through her what he’s dealing with. And something about an ‘unknowing’

A man named peter Lukas visits the institute, one of the doners. Elias says he wants to see how the archive runs, Lukas says a few choice words about it. And Martin tells him in the most polite of terms to shove off. Lukas threatens him, and very briefly makes him forget everyone he’s ever loved. And then tells him he got off lucky, and that Elias should have picked a better archivist. You can hardly trust someone so childish to run something as important as this now can you.

Daisy visits him in his home, and threatens him in much more physical terms now. She tells him if he tries to do what he did to her again he’ll get more than a scar.

After that it’s a bit unclear how he gets marked by the next two (Curruption, Stranger.) but he does.

There’s a delivery, a few weeks after the stranger mark. It’s not supernatural in any sense, just a young woman dropping off a small box in the archivists office. She says her name is Georgie, and no, she doesn’t know what’s in the box. She just had an old friend tell her to deliver it if he didn’t check in after a bit. Then she found out he died on the news, and then she hadn’t wanted to deliver them- clearly whatever was in the box was going to get someone killed. And she wasn’t scared of it, she wasn’t one for fear, but the thought of putting anyone in danger made her skin crawl. But she didn’t want it in her house, and she refused to be haunted be this box forever. And there was no reason to defy the poor guys apparent final wishes- wait, why was she saying all this again?

In the box was tapes, a dozen or so of them. All addressed to ‘the next head archivist’

It’s Jon’s voice, on the tapes. Talking to who he apparently assumes to be an entire stranger, explaining the fears. And how Smirkes 14 wasn’t wrong, but wasn’t right either. It tells the next archivist to avoid eyes, paintings, doodles, abstract representations, and to keep playing dumb. There’s a lot out there, and the more you know the worse it gets. There’s no fighting, don’t struggle the nets already around you. There’s a way out, but you’re not going to like it.

It gives an odd image of Jon, the man who awkwardly tried to make small-talk int he break room, only to shuffle away after it fell flat. Carrying this world-ending secret on his shoulders. Stiff, awkward Jon. Grim, sad Jon. not so far apart but still so far outside of what Martin had known about him.

What had Martin known about him?

Tim decides to quit, Sasha stays. Elias hires Melanie. Who turns out to be another connection to Jon.

Melanie says he was kind of a prick, he belived her about her Sarah incident, but refused to give her library access. Probably because he was sexist, or maybe just a dickhead. She’d been trying to learn more about her encounter for ages. And this was finally her chance. They try to explain the way out but she won’t listen.

Martin starts following Gertrudes tapes, things about the unknowing have been popping up on his desk lately, and it sounds like Jon was right about an apocalypse. He goes to america, gets a bit kidnapped, and meets Gerry. He offers to help, and then asks about the unknowing. Gerry points him towards the storage locker. And when he gets back He and Sasha and Melanie check it out.

It’s mostly empty, apparently somewhat recently cleared out. Though in the corner there’s a large box of Tapes. There has to be dozens of them, and when they pres play it’s Jon. Talking to them. Except it’s not them, it’s another version of them, and something this version.

And there’s another Jon to add to the mystery of a man he was. The jon on these tapes isn’t stiffly awkward or forcedly professional. He’s open, sad. He cries, he laughs at memories they don’t have. He apologizes, a lot. Too much really. He talks about time travel, about forgetting faces and losing friends.

“Sometimes I-I think- I can’t help but be a bit... upset. At how unfair it all is. You’re all happy and laughing and together and i’m-

i’m alone.

I suppose it must be some sort of- cosmic Karma, I doomed the world so in this new one bright an new I pay my penance in isolation.

Or maybe it’s the other way around. I doom the world- suffer its horrors, and get a little bit of time to taste what humanity would be like.

Or maybe i’m just not that likable without an apocalypse.

Probably says a lot about me either way.

Is it bad that I- I sometimes consider letting things play their course? W-without any of you dying of course I just... I suppose it is bad, to want to end the world because you’re lonely. Just because i’m a bit sad doesn’t mean the planet should suffer, no... maybe i’ll try and reconnect with Georgie, it’s been... well. No. Perhaps best not.”

Sasha says that if she knew she would have at least brought him out for drinks or something.

But they did sort-of know didn’t they? Not about the apocalypse, but about the loneliness. After all, nobody chats so awkwardly in the break room because they have a thriving social life.

“I’m going to kill Nikola tonight- i’m not going to die. I’m not. I didn’t die last time, a-and there’s no reason for that to change. T-there isn’t. I’m going to try and be a safe distance from the blast this time, too. But... Well, it’s not like I have anyone to miss me if I do go.

I suppose... Martin, if you’re listening to this- I... I miss you. You always did say I should be more open with my feelings, and it’s weird. To miss someone who’s right there. T-to look at a face and see a friend and a stranger. To love someone you’ve known for years who doesn’t even really know who you are.

It’s all very stranger, ironic really. Considering what i’m about to do.

I love you, and I miss you. I know you’re not listening, even if I did die you’ve probably long since quit. I hope you’re happy, whatever you’re doing. Happy and safe. All of you.

And maybe you are listening, maybe... maybe we do become friends, maybe you actually choose to talk to me someday. Maybe I tell you about all of this and... And you don’t think i’m mad. Maybe you let me take you out to dinner and we’d be together again. We’d never be like before- not that that’s a bad thing what with the eldritch horrors. There’d be bits missing, memories we don’t share- but, it would still be you... It’s always been you, I think. And maybe I've decided to give this to you as some sort of silly romantic gesture.

A-and in that case. I love you, Martin Blackwood. More than you’ll ever know.

[HE SIGHS]

When I come back, i’m recording over this.”

[CLICK]

But he didn’t come back. He died that night. He died loving Martin, who never even really knew him beyond passing awkward conversation. Martin doesn’t know how to feel about it, besides guilty that is.

The tapes point them towards Georgie Barker, the woman who delivered the other set to the archives.

Georgie doesn’t really want anything to do with them, she knows whatever they’re stewing in got Jon killed. But she tells them about her encounter with The End, though she’s tetchy afterwards. Martins finally starting to understand this whole compelling business and is feeling pretty sorry about it. He redirects, he starts to ask about Jon. Who he was, really. What she knew he was like.

They talk, Martins curiosity is part Eye and part knowing that someone loved him, really, really loved him. And feeling like he missed out, like he skipped a train he hadn’t known was there. And wanting to know what kind of person would- could love him the way Jon did. And why that kind of person could end the world.

They talk, Georgie explains why they broke up (clashing ideals, he didn’t believe in the supernatural and her trauma was so inherently tied to it. He was a sleep-clinger and she kicked when she dreamed) And why it took so long for them to break up (Jon was funny once you learned to get his jokes, the Admiral loved him, he had a weird way of caring that was really sweet) they talk about things, Georgie lets him hang out with her as long as he promises to keep the supernatural out of their conversations. And how is Melanie doing by the way?

Sasha has a hard time splitting her time in the archive and helping Tim. He can manage himself of course but it’s hard knowing he’s sitting in her flat alone, he’s getting back into publishing though. Sleeping easier now he knows that not only is he free of the eye, but Jon very much killed the thing that killed Danny. He only wishes he could have been the one to pull the trigger. Sasha is getting more involved though, the eye has it’s own grip on her.

They finally confront Elias. They know it won’t do any good, Jons tapes explained what he was, who he was. But they’re frustrated. Low on options. Jon never really explained what the apocalypse was- if Martins learned anything from the other tapes it’s probably because he forgot, thought he did somewhere and didn’t.

Elias isn’t entirely surprised that they’ve figured it out, he knew something was going on. Though he wasn’t quite sure what. He claims he knows what oncoming apocalypse Jon was talking about, and that he was likely underestimating the amount.

He sends them to Ny-Ålesund. And Martin views the black sun. Gets briefly taken hostage by Manuela. And gets “saved” by a man who pops out of a door to stab her.

He says his name is Micheal, and he’s not there to help. He does his whole distortion bit, confuses them. Stabs Martin when he tries to take his statement. Says he was going to kill him, but what happens next might be much better than death. And leaves after stating that he’s very excited to watch how the rest of this plays out.

They go back to the institute, and Elias says he must have been wrong. Oopsie. Anyway the web is planning a ritual you should go check out the spooky house from all these statements.

They meet Annabelle in person, Martin gets marked by the web.

This continues on for the end the slaughter and the buried. They finally confront Elias again about these wild goose chases, he claims innocence but he’s done it enough times they don’t believe him. They stop trusting Elias. Not that they ever really did, but they stop listening to him.

Melanie isn’t as angry as she was. Though she is still angry. She didn’t go to india so no ghost bullet, but she’s still trapped. Though she knows how to quit, it’s been a scary idea. But the longer she stays the more she realizes how low she is on options. So she quits.

Martin is angry, he’s exhausted, he’s confused. Nothing makes sense. And another one of Elias’s goddamn doners is visiting. A weird old man who, when he shakes his hand, makes him feel like he just dropped off a rollercoaster at a million miles into empty nothingness. He laughs when Martins regained himself, and says that that tricks better than a buzzer every time.

He visits Georgie again, he’s thinking about quitting. But he can’t figure out what the apocalypse he’s supposed to stop is, because according to Jon it’s pretty bad. And he’s the one who can stop, or maybe start, it. But he doesn’t know what it is.

He talks to Georgie about Jon some more, it’s funny, to grieve a man you already knew. Except four years too late. There’s a sort-of helpless frustration to it, every time he talks about Jon he wishes he could be learning this first-hand. Not from someone who hadn’t spoken to him in years before this.

He also finds himself glued to the tapes, he can relate, in a way. To Jons loneliness. To have a person so, so close but so far away. He wishes he could meet the Jon on the tapes now. Then neither of them would have to be lonely. But Jon is dead. And Martin... Martin might love Jon. Jon, who died years ago. A dead man who apparently loved him enough to consider ending the world for the chance to have a real conversation with him.

He goes back to work, frustrated and so, so lost. A million questions that genuinely can’t be answered. There’s a fresh statement on his desk. It’s a statement of Jonah Magnus, regarding stopping the apocalypse.

Certainly a goddamn roundabout way of giving Martin information, but he’ll take it.

He reads the statement.

The world ends.

Sasha, Tim, Melanie, and Georgie all get their own domains. And wander free in the hills of suffering. Martin is alone, well and truly alone. He ended the world, because he was too stupid and sad to read a few extra paragraphs before starting the tape.

But Jon went back, didn’t he? He went back in time and stopped this once. Maybe Martin can too. Maybe he can stop the flesh from attacking, maybe he can stop Melanie from joining the institute. Maybe he can meet the real Jon.

He goes back, he does it. Nobody remembers but him.

Nobody remembers but him.

And things keep happening he can’t have predicted.

Worms, Sasha is gone, Gertrude. It’s all wrong. And Jon isn’t the Jon he knew, he doesn’t know Martin, he doesn’t even like Martin. Nobody is the person he knew before.

He is alone. And things keep happening he can’t have predicted, worms tables and paranoia. He starts recording. Trying to follow in Jon’s footsteps and leave information behind, easier to access this time of course. In his flat, and he’ll have the key sent to the archives if something goes wrong. He’ll record until Jon trusts him enough to believe him, Maybe he’ll even stop him before it’s too late and he’ll never need to find out what happened at all. Maybe he can't get close as he was to everyone, but he can keep them safe.

He doesn’t get to finish his recordings, he wasn’t careful enough. Jonah catches wind and half the tapes are destroyed when he dies in a mysterious housefire. But what’s left does get delivered to the archives.

And the cycle continues.

#jonmartin #the magnus archives #tma #angst #writing #ghostly scribbles #Tma is a tragedy and so is this #not a proper fic more like a really weird outline

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alwaysabeautifullife · 4 years

Note

How did you learn so many languages. Do you have any tips?

Yes!!!! Yes I do!!!

Everything I wish I could tell myself before starting my language “journey” lol:

🦩Dont be intimidated

Don’t be intimidated, specifically by doing listening or speaking practice. I know in the US (or for most English speakers), when we hear someone that speaks perfect English but merely has an accent we think “they don’t speak English”, but from experience this mentality is not shared with other languages. When you know even a little bit of a language or can’t speak it very well, natives speakers are really really encouraging. I think since we view not being 100% fluent without so much as an accent, as “not knowing any of a language” we are hard on ourselves and give up pretty easily.

🦩Listening practice is as important as studying vocabulary and grammar

When you listen to native speakers talk, you are training your ear even though you don’t understand it. Listen and listen, eventually your brain stops picking out English words that aren’t even there, but rather, starts to catch patterns in the language (for example, the same words sticks out to you over and over).

🦩Set realistic and doable goals or you’ll get discouraged and quit

If you are a busy person, make small goals to fit language study in. Don’t tell yourself that you need to master _____ within a week. Instead give yourself 15 mins of reading in the evening, and 25 mins of language listening in the morning. It’s also easier to add the language into stuff you do on a daily basis anyway. For example if you are religious, find your prayers you pray daily in the language you are learning.

🦩learn to read the language first (obviously this tip might not be applicable for character based languages like Chinese)

I know everyone says “immersion is the best and most important part of language” but honestly, a lot of our native speaking knowledge comes from our literacy education. When we are taught how to read, it’s through reading we can discover new words through context. It’s also easy to pick up new language reading since it’s available anywhere, where immersion is only available when you are surrounded by native speakers. The first thing I do is learn how to read and write the language, then the entire language becomes accessible to me.

🦩Spend time perfecting the sounds of the language that are most difficult for you

The vocal sounds of a language is the foundation of a language. I know we are all impatient and want to simply learn as many phrases as possible as fast as possible, but if you get down the unfamiliar sounds of a language that don’t exist in English, you’ll have a better foundation of the language and your speaking and listening will be better from the very beginning. So take the time to practice those weird sounds by looking into the position of the tongue and where the sound comes from, from the chest to the lips. Look into how tense the mouth is, how much air comes from the lips, what the sound is like next to other sounds. When you master this speaking becomes more instinctual and it’s easier to pick up the language.

🦩Search YouTube, google, Instagram IN THE LANGUAGE YOU ARE STUDYING.

Don’t search “korean music” or “korean kids tv” or even “korean vegetables” in google. Just translate how to say them in a translator app, then copy and paste them into the search bar. This way native korean information, videos, posts will come up. For example, if you’re in the mood for some horror comics, and want to read/watch them in the language you are learning, go to the translator app, and figure out how to say them, then search it. It works way better, even if the translation isn’t correct or more natural, you’ll still get the information, posts, and videos you want to see.

🦩Find ways to practice speaking the language (I use HiNative) and don’t be discouraged by corrections.

Getting corrected does not mean you’re wrong, corrections are the most useful part of learning a language. If you are the type of person who is sensitive to criticism, you need to remind yourself corrections are NOT criticism. They are NOT a reflection of your progress, they are NOT you failing! You will always be corrected as a language learner and the sooner you are gentle with yourself in learning the sooner you will learn more. Get those first corrections out of the way, allow yourself to butcher pronunciation, get corrected for the first 10 times, let it sting a little and move on. Eventually you will be begging native speakers to tell you every little detail in where you went wrong!

🦩Tv and Books seems to be more useful for immersion and listening practice then music does

So far in my experience music is its very weird and abstract, and the things said in music aren’t really useful in speaking? It’s good for gathering vocab, but if you want music listening practice that’s music based try searching for rap in that language, although obviously you’ll be picking up a lot of informal language in music/rap. Tv shows however are typically how people really do talk, so turn off English subs and just listen! Books are really useful for learning new vocabulary, but sometimes written language is different than spoken (often), although when you speak it the way you’ve learned from a book the worst you’ll sound is “formal and poetic”.

🦩Look up “insert language you are learning phrases and words that aren’t useful or correct”

There so many programs and books that teach you phrases you’ll never use or that are only appropriate in very specific situations. I don’t know why language programs do this, but learning which ones are weird or only in specific settings before you start learning really helps. Chinese Especially does this...like I learned so many phrases and words that natives will never use and have no purpose???

🦩Know the different subjects of learning a language and which apps to use for that

Everyone uses Duolingo, but this app alone won’t make you speak a language. Duolingo and Memrise are great for memorizing vocab, but, is it vocab that in the context of your reading and listening practice? Are you learning words you are hearing and reading all the time? Duolingo is a lot of fun but I feel like the vocab is so broad and it doesn’t go deep enough into the language. Feel free to use it at first to get used to the sounds of the language, but try using flash card apps like quizlet or Anki instead where you can write down and study words you are hearing constantly. Memrise does have actually study sets for many language books and lessons! So you can study words you are hearing in specific programs and books which is pretty useful in regards to vocab.

There obviously is more than just learning vocab. What about grammar, listening practice, speaking practice and reading? If you are wanting to use primarily apps find out which apps are available for your language. Here is an example of the apps I use for each subject. Be aware some languages are not available on them.

Vocab: quizlet, anki

Grammar: books (printed or kindle), YouTube grammar lessons, websites

Reading: books (printed or kindle), beelinguapp, instagram (posts that have text), Netflix/YouTube with both subtitles in the language you are learning and spoken in language you are learning, epic app

Writing: just use paper and pencil/pen

Listening: audio books (beelinguapp/epic/kindle/YouTube), tv and movies (Netflix/YouTube etc with no English subs), conversations on YouTube (search in language you are studying, don’t search “Spanish conversations” or “Japanese conversations”)

Speaking: HiNative (pretty much all I use since it’s all languages, quick, and you get immediately answered and corrected by native speakers), get friends in language you are learning through lots of apps

Translator: it’s really hard to find a good one, most of them are really weird so only use them for words and the most basic or simple phrases and sentences, otherwise use HiNative to ask native speakers directly, or ask people on the apps that connect you to native speakers

🌱I should note that for talking to native speakers I only like HiNative, since it’s built to NOT be a form of social networking at all. It’s not personal in anyway, and there’s no way to private message or speak to other users outside a asking questions publicly. The people on there are only about learning or teaching a language, not usually making friends. I’ve found the sites that are built to make native speaking friends aren’t useful to me personally, as most of the native speakers are either dudes looking for a woman to date or people wanting to only practice English with you, so they wasted a lot of my study time. People who are willing to help you learn are there, but it takes time to filter everything else out. If you would find it helpful to make friends by all means use them but I don’t really use it myself.🌱

You don’t want to really study EVERY SUBJECT every single day (unless you have the time). It can get really overwhelming, and you don’t really absorb information that if you are just cramming. While I would say it’s good to read and listen daily, spread subjects out over the week. Grammar on Monday and Friday, vocab on Tuesday and Thursday. Take one day to review all of what you’ve learned all week. Pick a day you have the largest block of free time. Bi-weekly works fine too.

I have an old post on how I organize my study time for multiple languages: https://alwaysabeautifullife.tumblr.com/post/182817883372/what-do-you-use-to-learn-your-languages-im

🦩Write sentences daily of everything you’ve learned (no THIS I RECOMMEND DAILY)

Write as many as you can. Use all the grammar you’ve learned, the words you’ve learned, everything! Write them in your notes and submit them to be corrected in HiNative. The sentences they correct, put them in flash cards!

🦩It’s ok to abandon languages you aren’t passionate in

So you’ve learned to read the language, and you know basic phrases, and now you just don’t want to do it anymore. If you can’t think of any reason to maintain it and don’t know why you are studying it, learning some of the language is good! Fluency does NOT need to be everyone’s goal. You can hold a conversation, and that’s good enough for you. Feel free to try out various languages, there will be one or some that really are your passion, it’s fine to have the goal of fluency in those and conversational in others.

Don’t abandon languages however because you feel discouraged. Discouragement is just a bump to get over, when you train your brain to maintain study habits through the days you feel discouraged, you make it habitual. Habits are harder to break and abandon! Evaluate your reasonings for wanting to speak a language, and your reasons for abandoning them if you want. Don’t let difficulty, disorganized, discouragement, or poor time management get in your way!!

🦩With all that said it’s ok to take breaks

It’s ok to get overwhelmed and take breaks from language learning. If you can still maintain what you’ve learned by listening to music in your language or staying connected in some way that’s good, but the “you’ll loose a language” isn’t entirely true. I’ve taken year long breaks and refreshing what I learned previously is pretty easy! Your brain really does go “oh yeah I do remember this!” when you’re studying information you studied years ago.

🦩Be gentle with yourself

Be gentle with yourself. People that claim to be fluent in 6 months are selling something or want to be an influencer. Don’t compare yourself to them. Language learning even for natives is a lifetime education. It’s not something you do for 6 months then stop. It’s continual and that looks different for everyone (yes native speakers included). Don’t bother watching YouTube videos on how to learn in 10 mins or 3 months, you’ll only get discouraged about your own amazing progress and all the work you’ve done.

🦩Plan your “can you say something in it” phrase now

This one is just for fun but after hearing you are learning a language the first thing you’ll get asked is “oh cool you speak (insert target language here)? Can you say something in (insert target language here)?” It does not matter what level of fluency you are at, you will absolutely forget the entire language and your own native language when you are asked this because it sends your brain to another dimension. So think of some funny phrases to say to people who ask, master them, then when they ask what they mean you can have a laugh. Other wise you will say something stupid of jumbled words (my go to was ‘we women are fruit’ for some reason thanks brain you’re incredible) you’ve learned that don’t belong in a sentence, or even worse you’ll run a blank and you’ll just look at them like:

🍳👄🍳

So think of inside jokes to tell your friends, funny phrases, even goofy insults! Memorize them and tell them at your friends and family to torture them because they can’t escape sound waves! It’s a good way to memorize the language but also to become confortable speaking it!

Please excuse any errors I don’t wanna go over my mistakes so pretend u can’t see them 🙈

#langblr #learning languages #korean #spanish #italian #portuguese #lang resources #lang apps #lang

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missingjackklinehours · 3 years

Text

run alone (until i bring you home)

Out of each pleasant memory of Gabriel trying and ultimately succeeding in graciously brightening his mood, Raphael holds a certain memory close to his heart.

Rating: Gen

No warnings apply.

Fic & Playlist available on AO3! (however, feel free to read under the cut.)

@spnarchangelweek <3

Asters indubitably remind Raphael of Heaven's Messenger; his younger brother, Gabriel.

Bold yet delicate petals that sway amiably in the breeze. Gabriel, the animated fledgling who would joyously dance when he was feeling down, carefree giggles falling from his flushed lips when he stumbled. Father forbid if one of Gabriel's elder brothers had a mere smudge of gloom present in their actions—The jubilant fledgling would've been dead set on a clear-cut mission: doing absolutely anything in his power to cheer up his brothers. Gabriel had always been his brothers' little ball of sunshine, much like the vibrant citrine center of an aster flower.

Out of each pleasant memory of Gabriel trying and ultimately succeeding in graciously brightening his mood, Raphael holds a certain memory close to his heart. He wouldn't forget it, even if his mind permitted so.

.•° ✿ °•.

Morning skies were always Raphael's favorite. The dawn of a new day, the faint ghost of the moon stuck stubbornly to the yellow skies like a splendid dream with far too much detail. He would spend countless hours just watching the stars fade.

This particular morning was radically different.

Raphael had just lost his childhood friend, the kind black swallowtail butterfly that had captivated him with her bulging eyes as a meek fledgling. She always met Raphael in his garden, sucking away at the supple nectar within the flushed milkweed flowers he'd grown specifically for her. However, it had been a few days since she'd returned from her lengthy adventure to find a mate, and Raphael was growing increasingly worried.

The dawn skies echoed glum without her fragile wings fluttering across them. The milkweeds looked to weep.

Raphael had never been an expressive angel, quite the contrary. It was all about subtlety with him, something only his closest brothers—archangelic—had knowledge of. He himself hadn't even noticed his mistake: He'd forgotten his watering can before he'd embarked on the short trip to his garden.

It was such a trivial feat that Raphael hadn't cared enough to realize it was missing, until he'd long since reached his garden and after he checked if his swallowtail friend had reappeared; She hadn't. It was like the cherry on top of his sick discontentment—He would have to trudge back to the familial archangel nest with a heavy heart and convoluted thoughts.

At least, he thought he would. A too-familiar presence had abruptly stumbled upon him, and Raphael slightly turned in a befuddled daze towards the nearing sensation of Gabriel's easily-recognizable grace.

Gabriel was supposed to be in combat training with Michael that day. There was no particular reason the youngest archangel should have been approaching Raphael's garden. Raphael blankly watched Gabriel land with a small crash—Gabriel hadn't mastered flight at that point in time.

Raphael couldn't help the nearly-imperceptible upward tug of his lips at the sight of his youngest brother now covered in soil and scrambling to stand up, trying to smoothly act as if he hadn't almost knocked himself out. In his jittery hands glimmered Raphael's steel watering can. Raphael peered at it with interest, his stare flicking up to his brother. Gabriel, after briefly maneuvering his head to the side to spit stray grains of dirt out of his mouth, wiped his lips with his arm before flashing a toothy beam at his older brother.

"You still have soil in your teeth," Raphael had remarked.

He observed Gabriel's expression switch from gaiety to dismayed surprise. The younger angel's hand shot up to scrub frantically at his teeth. Raphael's attention reverted to the spot behind Gabriel, the spot where his brother had crash-landed, and he softly sighed in dissatisfaction when his eyes scanned over the healthy aster bush his brother had crushed.

"... And, you ruined my flowers."

Gabriel's scrubbing stopped in an instant to offer Raphael an apologetic look.

"Sorry, dude," Gabriel once again displayed his bright beam, continuing to speak through his smile with a muffled tone, "Did I get it all?"

Raphael transiently paused his assessment of his brother's accidental floral destruction to sweep his sight over Gabriel's smiling teeth—Nothing but pearly whites. A chaste nod followed, and Gabriel's simper dimmed to a close-mouthed one. Raphael continued to eye the watering can curiously, prompting Gabriel to brighten, as if he'd completely forgotten what he'd come for in the first place. The youngest archangel tilted his head sweetly as he merrily extended his hands, presenting the steel watering can in all its glory. Raphael concisely inspected it, his gaze jumping back to Gabriel's face with slight suspicion.

"Aren't you supposed to be with Michael today?" Raphael hesitantly took his watering can from Gabriel's hands. His younger brother pulled his arms back, the grin on his face morphing into the signature pout that Raphael's mind always regressed to when thinking of Gabriel.

"Exactly right! I'm supposed to." Gabriel shuffled in place, his rascal pout never budging. "Let's just say this is a detour, okie dokie?"

Raphael's prodding eyes slanted in both incredulity and curiosity. Gabriel passively considered his brother's expression before swiveling on his heel, facing the aster bush he'd indirectly demolished. Raphael studied him silently, off-put by the lack of mischief that always seemed to follow his youngest archangelic brother.

"I can help replant these!'' Gabriel's voice was jam-packed with genuine enthusiasm. Raphael's suspicion has reached its peak, and he dubiously stepped forward to stand next to his younger brother. Side-by-side, the pair of archangels skimmed over the crumpled mess of lavender petals and evergreen leaves.

"Firstly, you're terrible at gardening," Raphael calmly stated, and Gabriel cocked his head to peer at Raphael with what was probably slight offense prominent on his face. Raphael ignored him as he spoke. "And secondly, why are you really here?"

Raphael marginally pivoted to watch his brother's expression. Gabriel's features didn't take long to fall, and Raphael's entire being peaked in both interest and concern. The Messenger briskly looked away with a hint of timidity, his eyes of sky falling back to the flattened plant before them.

"You forgot your watering can," He said meekly, as if afraid to speak its silly truth. He added even softer, "You never do that."

Raphael's stare simply bore more intensely into his brother, utterly bewildered. Gabriel continued, an anxiety-prompted ramble.

"And you came home late yesterday. I'm worried, Raph," The youngest archangel admitted, releasing a massive sigh as he did so. Gabriel seemed relieved, like the thought had been plaguing his mind significantly. Raphael immediately softened, quick to soothe his brother. His lips moved on their own, and a blatant white lie tumbled out.

"There's no reason to worry, Gabriel," Raphael delusively assured, and he slightly jumped when the Messenger's head snapped back up; Raphael could now physically see the uneasiness present on his brother's face.

"Y'know, you could at least try to sell it a little better," Gabriel whined with a tenuous smile, and Raphael offered an apologetic look in response. A couple beats of silence enveloped the pair, with neither one of the angels bearing the right words to say. Gabriel's abstracted gaze gingerly drifted elsewhere.

Raphael attentively followed his brother's now-fixated stare. The older angel's being subtly slumped purely out of sheer impulse when his eyes lay on the faded coral color of milkweeds—They seemed terribly empty without a familiar pair of miniature black and blue butterfly wings atop them. A flit of acquainted worry spread like a consuming disease over his grace, a halfhearted wash of paltry waves over a burning embodiment of celestial light.

A physically inaudible hum of lamented harmony buzzed from the grace beside him, and a gentle touch brushed against his shoulder. The sudden sorrow within Raphael fleeted away as quickly as it had birthed when the warmth was perceived. With a meager twist of his head, Raphael’s pale eyes once again met the now-sympathetic azure irises of his brother. Gabriel wore a modest frown, his face contorted in enhanced concern.

"Does it have something to do with Basil?" Gabriel's expression grew more worried when the words left him, and hearing it aloud somehow made it more real to both of them. "Is she okay?"

Raphael's movements delayed, and his own uncertainty seemed to float rapidly to the surface at the sight of Gabriel's shared fear. Gabriel had met Basil, Raphael's befriended swallowtail butterfly, a couple years after Raphael had become close with her; Gabriel had happily insisted that he wanted to introduce himself to his big brother's childhood friend.

Raphael's face remained stone as he hesitantly nodded. Gabriel's concern transformed into what looked to be frightened grief.

"Is she…"

"I'm not sure. She hasn't returned from her journey to find a mate." Raphael stated weakly, briefly glancing back at the milkweeds that lowly drooped in melancholy without the swallowtail. The wind drifted through their petals, calling out to her.

At this, Gabriel looked to be a bit relieved. The youngest archangel's face broke into a soft smile after a couple of seconds, and Raphael's eyes ever-so-slightly slanted in inquisition. Gabriel's simper never faltered as he kneeled down in front of the destroyed aster bush.

Raphael watched curiously as his brother began to speak in an upbeat, sing-song tone that was so… Gabriel. He simply turned towards Raphael again with a blinding flash of happily smiling teeth.

"If you say I'm that bad at gardening… then help me replant these! Let's surprise Basil with them when she comes back from her trip!"

A stunned pause ensued on Raphael's end, but never on Gabriel's; His younger brother's essence remained in a harmonizing melody, a sweet positivity radiating from his grace like comfortable currents of summery morning light.

Always so bright. Always so cheerful.

Raphael returned Gabriel's smile.

°•. ✿ .•°

It's silent without Gabriel.

Still. Empty. Void. Overpowering, almost.

And within that silence, thousands of words still seem to be spoken. Shrieked. Wailed. Raphael blindly listens, unaware it's merely a cold reflection of Heaven—of himself.

A muted cry of fear, a tremble of loneliness echoed across space and time. Velvet petals of lull lilac petals mirror the agonized harmony in pity. The aster bush he and Gabriel planted together distantly watches Raphael mourn.

Asters indubitably remind Raphael of Heaven's Messenger—his younger brother, Gabriel. And within the stillness, they remind him of Gabriel's absence.

Lavender beauty blooms quick, and wilts quicker. Raphael replants them every year.

He's counting.

It's as if the flowers hold a piece of Gabriel that Raphael refuses to let go of ever since his baby brother left Heaven. A pout perhaps, or a cheery bliss. A crack of golden morning light within their stamens, a careless dance in the wind. It's all so… Gabriel.

Raphael smiles in their presence, he can't help it.

In Heaven's soil, he plants aster flowers each day in hopes for his brother Gabriel's return.

#SPNArchangelWeek #Raphael and Gabriel #Michaelmas flower #a bit of angst #my fics

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greenninjagal-blog · 3 years

Text

Let Me Hear You Scream pt2

Ready for more spooky vibes? If you missed the first part you can find it [here!]

Summary: Upon waking up in a forest he doesn't recognize, Roman vs a Bear Trap goes almost exactly how you would think it goes.

Words: 6374

TW: Bear traps, blood, violence,

Read on Ao3 || My General Writing Masterlist

Roman has always had an unusually high pain tolerance. He had to, being twin brothers with Remus and all that. The sheer amount of danger the two of them got into as kids delegated that if he was anything less than completely indestructible, he’d be dead the next time Remus started a conversation with “I bet you won’t…”

He remembers that summer when Remus dared him to ride his bike down the concrete stairs, and he remembers how the wheels pitched him forward and his helmet cracked on the sidewalk, his knee skidded on the concrete, and his arm went snap with pain so white hot that Roman actually thought that the whole thing had popped right off his body entirely.

He remembers lying on the ground so shocked that he couldn’t even breathe, much less cry, and he remembers Remus laughing in the background, “I didn’t think you were going to actually do it! Oh shit, Ro? Roman! ROMAN!”

He remembers it so clearly.

“REMUS!” Roman shrieks into the forest, with tears rolling down his cheeks. “THIS ISN’T FUNNY, YOU FUCKER!”

His ankle burns. He can’t feel his toes, he can’t feel his ankle, he can’t feel anything, but there’s blood all over his hands and he can’t look down in case he faints.

His hands are trembling as they blindly work over whatever the fuck he stepped on. He can feel the slushie that he last ate, swirling in his stomach, boiling and bubbling until he feels it corroding his back molars. His fingers fumble around the… the metal teeth, oh god he’s going to vomit. His ankle screams in pain when his fingers prod too close to his actual limb. His ears echo with the painful awful SNAP of the jaw mechanism like its seared right into his soul.

“Remus,” He sobs, “I’m going to fucking kill you--”

Because there was a line here; Yeah, Remus dared him into a prank war with one of his stupid “I bet you wont, you prissy goody two shoes…” and Roman poured glitter into Remus’s laundry once, then Remus replaced Roman’s toothpaste with mayo, then Roman put white hair dye in Remus’s shampoo, and Remus swore he would get some type of revenge, even though he loved that look so much that he kept a stupid white streak in his hair. At least Roman thought he did-- He did, right?

Remus wasn’t the type to keep it to himself if he was upset. Neither of them were: Roman had perfected the art of loud sighs and dramatic monologues into a microphone and Remus had set things on fire to make people pay attention.

He didn’t-- wouldn’t--

He wouldn’t drag Roman into the middle of nowhere and make him walk into a bear trap for hair dye that would come out in another few weeks.

((Wouldn’t he?))

Everyone said Remus was insane, through whispered rumors and gossip that dissipated the moment that Roman walked into the room. Roman hadn’t ever seen the insanity himself; he grew up with Remus chasing squirrels in the park and diving into dumpsters for cool treasures and it was normal. Remus had always found humor in strange and weird things and as they had grown up those things had become less real and more abstract and Roman still didn’t think it meant that Remus would do this.

The forest is dense around him, stupid, dark; Roman isn’t sure he could recognize it even if he had a map in front of him, but then again Remus was always the more environmentally aware person of the two of them. He doesn’t know where Remus went the fuck off to either-- he’s brain is fuzzy at everything more than a few seconds ago when he blinked opened his eyes and took one step forward into a metal death trap, but he… he thought Remus had been right beside him, so close that… that…. His head is singing with pain and the backs of his eyes are melting.

“Hey!” A voice calls out and Roman flinches so hard that the metal spikes dig into his ankle and his scream strangles him.

Roman blinks back his tears just in time to see a figure stumble right out the thickets nearby, with the grace of a new born fucking dear. Roman swears in every language he knows and then some he doesn’t as the person scrambles back to their feet and zeroes in on him with an expression that Roman usually associates with the memory of his science teacher right before she demonstrated how to break a frog's ribcage for their dissection.

“No,” Roman says, “No, back off--”

He tries to scoot back and agony shoots up his leg so bright and violent that his vision whites out.

“Don’t move,” the person says, holding up their palms up suddenly to show they were unarmed or something. Roman isn’t sure what that’s supposed to do when he knows that Remus himself has never needed a weapon to be a lunatic. “I’m going to try to help.”

“Do not fucking come near me,” Roman snarls. “Who are you? One of Remus’s fucking little friends--”

“I assure you I don’t know a Remus, but you are in pain and believe I am qualified to help.”

“Fuck off!”

Roman swears that the pain is getting to his head, meddling with his thoughts like alcohol except not fun and Roman would not suggest anyone repeat this experience. The stranger-- Remus’s friend or whatever-- is staring at him with a patient impatience: like his mother waiting for him to finish his story before she runs off to answer a call on her work phone. They’re older than Roman, by a year or two, with sharp cheekbones and back framed glasses of a stereotypical nerd but a height that makes it hard to even imagine anyone looking down on them. Their eyes are colder than ice, and frost wafts off their breath. They’ve got a sweater vest on, with a tie, and converse dotted with glow in the dark paint in the shape of space nebulas.

Between his teary eye lashes Roman thinks that this guy looks incredibly tame for someone who associates with Remus and he fights the urge to vomit.

Is his leg supposed to be feeling cold?

Oh god, was he going to lose his foot? His breath swells up in his lungs, like a balloon pressing against his ribs. He wouldn’t be able to walk without a foot-- He wouldn’t be able to move or leave these woods or get help-- Remus and his psycho friends could easily cut up the rest of his body and let the wolves get him and then at school when someone would ask what happened to that dumbass who used to make dumb jokes on air during the football games, everyone will be like “Who?” and “didn’t Remus used to have an annoying twin? What happened to that guy?” and no one will ever find him because no one would car--

“Please,” The Doctor Who-ever says, in a faux calm tone as Roman nearly swallows his tongue. “I have medical knowledge, and you are clearly in distress.”

Agony races up his leg and Roman whimpers again. He swears he can hear the sound of metal grinding against his ankle bones, biting in deep and forcing the marrow to crack and shatter and explode until it's just a bunch of broken glass-like fragments under his skin. His head feels light and he frantically breathes deeply because he is not going to pass out, he is not going to make it that eas--

He’s cut off by a sudden crashing from behind behind himself: snapping of branches like a wild animal is tearing through them, the crunch of dead leaves steadily getting louder and heavy and deadlier, the swearing that are all tell-tale sounds of Remus crashing directly into someone and both of them eating the dirt as they barrel through the thickets and roll to a stop a few feet away.

Nerdicus jerks back like they were expecting anything less of Remus’s spectacular grand entrance.

Roman bites down on his tongue to stop himself from outright whimpering. Remus, his twin, his mirror image, rolls back to a sitting position like a possessed doll coming to life, untangling his limbs from another crumpled, groaning form that must be some other friend of his, and snapping them back in place because what are limbs to a maniac like him? The setting sun paints him in an eerie light and Roman’s skin itches with equal parts rage and terror at him, for dragging them out there, for putting out bear traps, for doing all this as pay back for a stupid little prank in a prank war he fucking started--

Remus’s laughter is obnoxious as always and Roman tries not to flinch at the sound of it alone, holding back a white wash of fear with just his force of will.

His other friend is another person that Roman hasn’t seen before-- not that he spends a lot of time getting to know the faces of the delinquents that his brother hangs out with. They’ve got on black jeans and a black T-shirt with one of those reversible sequin designs in the shape of a skull. Their blond hair dances in the last dregs of the evening, even as they pull a leaf from their bangs and yanks their dirty yellow beanie back over their head.

“Holy shit!” Remus says, spitting out dirt from his mouth. “Is that a bear trap?”

“Remus!” Roman whimpers with a tight throat. “This isn’t funny!”

“Au contraire! I left you alone for like five seconds and now you’re in a bear trap!” There’s a glint in Remus’s eyes and Roman recognizes it from those times when Remus climbed too high in the trees back at home, when he stared at a growing flame of a match too long, when he reached across the console and yanked on the steering wheel, screaming Roman’s name--

Roman brain pulses to the point where he can feel it knock against his skull and that hurts almost as much as ankle and he swears he sees stars on the backs of his eyelids and he does not want those to be the last stars he ever sees.

Remus swoops towards him and Roman flinches back, nearly screaming when his leg jostles.

“Chill out, Prince Charmless,” his twin says, rolling his eyes. “I’m gonna get it off. What’s your range of movement?”

“Do not come any closer to me, you asshole!”

“You can’t get that thing off yourself,” Remus says.

“And whose fault is that?” Roman snaps.

Remus freezes, tilting his head slightly to the side. His rat's nest of hair creates an unearthly silhouette as he looks down at Roman, something straight out his Halloween horror films, and Roman bares his teeth in warning. He’s not thinking about how Remus’s foot can stomp down on his injured, trapped leg, he’s not thinking about how there’s no one around for miles, he’s not thinking about how there’s nothing and no one to stop him from straight out fratricide--

“Why am I suddenly getting the feeling you think I know what the flying fuck is going on here?” Remus asks.

“Don’t you?”

“No!” Remus says, delightedly, happily, cheerfully and his voice makes some distant bird caw. “I thought you snapped and took me to the woods to kill me yourself! This is much more boring now that I know I haven’t managed to break your last shreds of sanity.”

“Why would I--”

“This is ridiculous,” Glasses McGee cuts in sharply, adjusting said glasses with their index finger. “We need to remove your foot from that trap now.” They look at Remus and the other person. “Are either of you knowledgeable about the mechanics of bear traps?”

Remus throws two thumbs up, and Roman remembers vaguely a rant from a year or two ago about unethical bear hunting and steel jaw traps and how animals would step in and then lay there for days suffering as their mangled limb held them captive regardless of them trying to chew it off for freedom and oh god he’s going to be sick--

“Roman,” Remus says somewhere beyond the screaming in his head. “Oh shit.” It sounds like he’s far away and distant, or maybe underwater and Roman is drowning. He can’t seem to breathe anymore, like the teeth biting into his ankles had wrapped around his chest and was slowly crushing him.

People are moving around him, faint voices talking and then suddenly burning blinding white hot pain that shoots all the way up to the back of his eyes.

He screams and bites down only to find there’s something in his mouth-- fibers and the unmistakable taste of wool and Roman nearly gags on it. He blinks back the foggy pain and finds that he’s leaning on Remus and Webster Dick-tionary is pressing a multicolored sweatshirt to his leg delicately with the bear trap fully closed a few feet away, tethered to the ground with a heavy metal chain coated in a red paint that makes Roman’s vision sway all over again. The slushie claws back up his throat and he gags.

There’s someone new standing just behind the nerd: a very pretty person in a pretty skirt and headphones with cat ears on them around his neck. The splash of freckles and the round glasses makes them look a bit younger than the rest of them, but that could also be Roman’s brain twisting things around the moment that they wince in sympathy as the nerd prods part of his ankle.

They’re magnificent, Roman decides with a dizzying certainty. They’re the sun in the middle of this dark and dreadful forest, the stars in the night sky, the lighthouse in the storm guiding Roman back from complete devastation with just those shiny eyes behind cracked lens.

The other person, the one in the black skull shirt, Sid from Toy Story come to life, is standing just behind him and Remus, looking on distastefully from a good distance away. It takes Roman a moment to realize he’s biting down on the guy’s beanie, and gross. He spits it out at the same time as the nerd presses too close to where the trap had caught him.

“Son of a Witch!” He hisses. “A dragon witch, a fucking---”

“Oh, boo,” Remus says. “He’s alive.”

“He was not in any immediate danger of dying,” Space Case says firmly. “And isn’t he your brother?”

“Looks like someone is an only child,” Remus says. The person in black reaches out and snatches back his beanie, his entire face curling into some disgusted expression as they hold the part with Roman’s saliva away from themself.

“Wonderful,” they say in deadpan and stuff the beanie in their back pocket.

Roman blinks, struggling to sit up by himself. He scrubs his face trying to get rid of his tears, and buries that boiling humiliation being the center of attention like this. Of course, he has to be grievously injured for anyone to care about him, for anyone to take a moment to look at him, for anything--

Remus lets him go, stretching up and yawning like nothing about this is weird or strange or scary to him.

Part of Roman is reassured by that. Like, of course Remus isn’t terrified out of his mind; what is there to be scared of when he’s the most terrifying thing in a 100 mile radius? When he handcuffed himself to the doors of the city history museum to protest its demolishment even though the wrecking ball was right there, when he wore a mini skirt to school to protest the dress code even though he’d been beat up for less before, when he marched into the Governor’s office when he was refused a meeting about the rescinding of the pollution standards in the the county and laughed in the face of the armed guards that told him to leave.

Remus had an endless supply of guts and determination and Roman had wished for so long that his reckless bravery could be contained, controlled and banished, but now it kinda felt like Remus slipping a familiar jacket over Roman’s shoulders and telling him to relax.

Google.com-- Roman is seriously running out of names for them-- leans in and tears the new holes in Roman’s jeans further-- Roman grimaces at the thought of having to buy another pair to make up for this, but the nerd expertly uses the excess fabric to tie up his wound with a professional precision.

“Alright, Doc Oct,” Remus says while they work. “What is the diagnosis? Amputation? Do I need a body bag?”

“I just said that he was not in danger of dying,” they say, finishing the knot which only causes Roman to grunt a little bit. “And my name is Logan, if you must know. I am not a full medical doctor by any means, but I believe that he will recover fully; the trap broke skin and there will likely be a nasty amount of bruising deep in the muscle tissue, but he will recover in a few weeks of rest. It will probably be best to keep weight off your foot as much as possible.”

“See, drama queen?” Remus says to Roman, shoving his shoulder. “You’re fine.”

Roman gives him double middle fingers for his trouble and tries not to shake too hard with relief. He stares down at his leg, forcing a steady breath through his lungs and out his nose, and wonders with a dizzying amazement how his leg was not only in one piece but recoverable, after all the pain. He isn’t sure that it’s not just the placebo effect of someone saying that everything’s going to be okay, but he wiggles his toes and swears that the pain only wracks his limb moderately this time.

Even closed, the bear trap looked menacingly at them: Roman’s blood on the jaws that were curled into a ghoulish grin, just waiting for someone to get close enough to open and bite down on. He’s not sure how Remus and the Doctor Doolittle-- Logan-- managed to get it off him.

Logan turns and offers the sweater to the person in the skirt. “Ah, sorry, I’m afraid the blood has…”

Roman sucks in another breath at the sight of it: the bright splotchy blobs of red that bled through the pastel tye dye design that would likely never come out and eternally remain a reminder of how Roman put his foot directly in a bear trap like an idiot-- What would he have done if there was no one around? Died? His own stupidity had ruined such a nice piece of clothing and--

“It’s okay!” The angel says with a somewhat cartoonish voice. Roman blinks in surprise at the sweetness of it, tasting sugar even as the words hold over the air. He swears he can envision their I’s dotted with hearts; a soft and kind tone despite the fact that Roman had ruined their sweater. “I’m much more relieved he’s going to be okay!”

“Let’s not get too excited,” Doctor Doom says, causing Roman to stiffen and Remus to glance back curiously towards them. They’re turned away from the rest of the mismatched, miscellaneous group, looking into the trees with a gaze that makes Roman’s stomach roll over and not in any way that is even remotely good.

“What?”

They glance back at them with an expression something that Roman can only call shifty. Like a snake before it strikes, they’re poised on the balls of their feet, coiled with the power to move at a seconds decision. Untrustable, Undependable, Unkind-- and Roman squares his shoulders just to prove to himself that there isn’t actually a dagger point about to plunge into his back.

The person’s voice is silky smooth, but Roman can’t find it in himself to be jealous when the meaning of the next words hit. “I don’t suppose any of you remember just exactly how we came to be here, do you?”

The woods echo with a strange emptiness, like the trees themselves are holding their breaths. The silence is eerie-- Roman’s never been a forest this quiet. He’s never been anywhere this quiet. The hairs on the back of his neck raise up.

Logan and the shining, shimmering, lovely vision share a look and the former shrugs, occupying their hands with tying their sweater around their waist.

“It’s fuzzy,” they admit, thoughtfully. “I was leaving my dorm...and then…” They grimace, which is downright awful to witness: Roman doesn't think anyone deserves to look so uncomfortable, and certainly not a beauty like them. “...then I was here.”

Logan makes a sour face like he managed to misplace a decimal twenty seven steps back in his math equations. “I was uncharacteristically late to class, but I seem to have some form of amnesia surrounding the hours since then as well; It was just past two.”

Dr. Facilier-turned-teenager turns to Roman, their eyes asking a question they already know the answer to. And part of Roman wants to snarl at them, tell them to knock it off with the creepy aura and better-than-you-expression, explain to them exactly how they ended up all here together because there’s a logical, causal explanation.

But Remus is already laughing. “Oh come on! We were…. What were we doing again?” Remus freezes for a moment, some of the smile leaving his face. “Ro? Where were we…?”

Remus is dressed in another one of his ripped T-shirts, the Save the Turtles one that he wore to that protest a few months ago and when he volunteered to clean up beaches for the weekend. His sleeves are ripped off to show off the endangered Tiger tattoo on his shoulder up to his neck, and his jeans are the recycled ones that he bought second hand and begged Roman to repair rather than buy a new pair and “give his money to the capitalists that are trying to kill us all”.

In comparison, Roman is wearing his letterman jacket, with his name engraved on it that he got for being the announcer for the football team three years in a row. He’s wearing his announcer uniform too-- his hair is styled and his colors are coordinated to the white and red of their school, but Remus never comes to the football games anymore.

Or well, he’s not allowed to come to the games anymore after he stole the tuba from the band players and charged into the field during the game back in their freshman year.

Still he-- remembers… he thinks he remembers... They were in the car together, Remus needed to go somewhere and Roman had to drop him off and then speed off to the game, right? Remus' feet were up on his dashboard, mud flaking off into his freshly cleaned car, his air fresheners weren’t working, they were fighting over the radio, Remus’s hand reached out, latching on to the wheel and a scream--

“Fuck,” Remus says, rubbing the side of his head like Roman had slapped him. “Did you crash our car out here?”

“Me?” Roman says, incredulously.

“Yeah!” Remus says. “Did you get brain damage in the crash too? Are your brains going to fall out? You were the one driving, dumbass.”

“You grabbed my steering wheel!”

Remus snorts. “What? No, I didn’t?”

“Yes you did!”

“No way!”

“Yes way!”

“I wouldn’t get anything out of--”

“Boys!” Skeletar says, clapping to get their attention. “Less arguing, more answering the question.”

Remus looks at Roman and Roman glares right back because he did not crash the car. Between the two of them Remus was more likely to crash a car-- proven from how he totaled their green Ford Fiesta nine months ago and now even around the pounding headache he can still remember the feeling of surprise as Remus’s sporadic movement jumbled through his own, the yank that caused him to lose control, the-- the--

He doesn’t remember what happened after that, but he knows that then Roman had opened his eyes out here, taken a step forward, and nearly lost his foot to a bear trap.

“This is getting us nowhere,” Logan says. “Even if perhaps you happened to have a car around here, that does not explain how the rest of us came to be here. And likely from the events that you are describing the car is not in functional condition-- although I’m unsure how your persons would have come out of such a thing without a few visible injuries…”

“I didn’t crash the car,” Roman says firmly.

“Oh, like you didn’t step into a bear trap?” Remus asks innocently antagonistically.

“Why are there bear traps out here anyway!” Roman hisses. “Isn’t bear hunting or whatever illeg--”

Roman almost doesn’t hear it: it starts so softly and then it raises in pitch and suddenly it's ringing in the air like cracks in the fragile glass silence. He feels his breath disappear right out of his chest, his body tensing and everyone jerks towards the direction the sound comes from, like they’re expecting to see something out there.

Roman remembers hearing people yell at Remus to get out of the way of the wrecking ball, remembers hearing the teachers snap at him to go change into his gym clothes, remembers the armed guard spitting on Remus’s face, his own shouts turning to something just above an animalistic growl when he told Remus to knock it off, you’re making me look bad.

And still he doesn’t remember hearing anything sound so horrified. So desperate. So despondent.

It is the noise that causes Roman to break out in goosebumps, electricity dancing along his skin causing all of his hairs to raise, and himself to find it suddenly very hard to swallow. Roman is scrambling back before he can remember that his foot should not be moving and he bumps into Logan as he does.

It cuts off short and disappears like someone took a pair of scissors to the sound itself, snipping the scream for help away before it reaches the end.

And Roman doesn’t think anyone is breathing anymore. His heart pounds in his chest, waiting for the rest of it.

The trees cast shadows so deep and dark that not even the moonlight will touch them. Somehow without Roman noticing, the temperature had dropped until the air feels like frostbite licking his exposed skin. Roman doesn’t dare move another inch-- doesn’t like the idea of what might happen if he reminds the rest of the world that time is still passing.

“I…” the person in the skull T-shirt says, in a very low, strangled tone. “I don’t think bears are what's being hunted.”

“No,” Roman says, “No.”

“Oh god, I’m gonna be sick,” the person in the skirt says.

“No!” Roman says, throwing out his arms before his thoughts can catch up. “This is not--”

“We need to leave,” Logan says, face pale. “Now.”

“I think I saw a gate,” Remus said, no hint of his unhinged grin. He thumbs the direction that he and Kaa came from. “I pulled the switch but it didn’t open. I thought about climbing but there are no holds and barbed wire around the top--”

“It’s likely lacking a power source then,” Logan says steadily calm and Roman feels like he’s losing his whole goddamned mind. “Let me take a look at--”

“We are not being hunted right now!” Roman blurts out.

The others stare at him for a solid, endless second and Roman’s stomach threatens to crawl up his throat. He waits for them to agree with him, waits for them to laugh and call it a joke, waits for Remus to tell him he’s so easy to scare, come on Ro, did you really think there was a murderer in these woods? This is grade school level effort!

Roman gets the feeling that he’s going to be waiting a very long time.

“Guys,” Roman says, slightly more wobbly than he means it to, slightly more softer than he means it to, slightly more terrified than he means it to. “We aren’t being hunted for sport, right?”

Because-- Because he’s seen horror movies. And he remembers once how Remus poured a bag of popcorn over his head and said that if they were ever in that situation, he’d leave Roman to rot, maybe even toss him to the killer himself, laugh as Roman screamed and begged and cried.

He doesn’t look at his foot. He doesn’t look at his foot and think about how he can’t run. He doesn't look at his foot and realize that they’re going to leave him behind and no one will ever know what happened to him and no one will care--

Remus is suddenly right in front of him, offering a hand right into Romans face. Roman blinks back the burning tears on his cheeks and looks at the limb with a trembling lip.

“Come on,” Remus says. “You’re a little bitch when you ruin your mascara, Ro.”

And Roman tries to articulate the billions of insults he has in his brain, but all that comes out is a whimper as Remus latches on to his wrist and pulls him to his feet. He stumbles the moment that he tries to put weight on his foot, flickers of pain echoing in his brain although it's not nearly as bad as he was expecting. Remus pulls Roman over his shoulder with his injured leg raised between them and all of his weight on Remus’s shoulders.

“I’m not leaving you behind, dumbass,” Remus says.

((Why wouldn’t he?))

“We need to help them,” the person in the skirt, the good and just and wonderful person in a skirt, says suddenly.

“I don’t think they need our help,” Hans Gruber-minus-the-German-accent says. “In fact, I don’t think they need anything, anymore.”

“How could you say that?!”

“Easily,” they respond, shortly.

The person in the skirt is shaking, Roman realizes. They’re shaking and hugging themself and they look slightly green in the face.

“I came from over there,” they say from behind trembling hands. “I-- I didn’t hear anyone else over there but they must have been there and I-- I can’t--”

“They’re dead,” Dr. Jerkyll says clinically, like a surgeon with a knife. “Us rushing towards that area is only going to get us attacked next. And I don’t know about you, but I don’t want to die, thank you very much.”

“We can’t leave them!” The other argues.

The person in the skull shirt steps towards the other and grabs their upper arm to spin them back to the direction the scream came from. Then with a derisive and terrible sneer, they shove. The cutie in the skirt stumbles forward, nearly face planting on the uneven ground.

“Then you go help them,” they say, with streaks of faint and awful moonlight painting them in a pale halo. They wave back to Logan, Remus and Roman, and Roman feels very much like he doesn’t want to be included in this group all of a sudden. “Don’t drag the rest of us into it.”

“Hey, don’t be a dick!” Roman says, stepping forward and hissing when he places a slight weight on his foot. “What if it were you out there?”

They scoff. “Me? I would never let myself get caught by a psycho murderer in the woods. But if I did, the last thing I would want is my valiant savior to come charging to my rescue and then get slaughtered right beside me like an idiot!”

“I’ll keep that in mind, you slimy snake,” Roman says.

“I bet you will, Hiccup,” they shoot back. “The gate is this way. Try not to step in another bear trap, won’t you?”

“Damn!” Remus says, “You’re a bitch! What’s your opinion on plastic in the sea?”

Roman slaps Remus’s arm and gives him a glare because really? Right now? They’re in the woods, someone just screamed and probably got murdered, they don’t know how to get out, Roman’s injured, and Remus is doing one of his weird flirting attempts.

Great.

The person in the skull shirt at least looks slightly thrown by the question, narrowing their eyes and shaking their head as they turn away as if they can brush off the rest of the group. “The sea turtles are dying.” They say blandly, without a hint of actual emotion. “Oh no. Next time I see one I will give my condolences about it’s mother.”

Remus’s mouth pops open for a retort that Roman knows is going to be bad, but before he can get the words out, there’s a loud sound of cracking branches from behind them. Remus drags Roman back from the area, planting himself in front of Roman like some kind of human shield and Roman wobbles, without anything to put his injured leg on.

“Jesus Christ!” A new voice screams, as they trip over a thicket and fall into the clearing.

They move like a blur; barely more than a shadow with the ungodly amount of black they’re wearing. Roman can make out a pale face, dark bangs and terrified eyes, before the scramble back in the ground leaving… leaving smears of deep red on the ground in front of them. Their flashlight goes flying off to Logan’s feet, but they don’t seem to care as much about that as moving away from whatever is behind them.

The air tastes like metal, like copper, and Roman swears the world sways under him. His heartbeat blares in his ears almost louder than the newcomer’s hysterical sobs.

There’s a thud. And another.

And the trees themselves seem to shake and draw from the shadow that takes form. It peels away from the others, massive, hulking and distorted in all the wrong ways: at some point it must have been human, Roman thinks hysterically. It has two legs and two arms and a torso and a head, but it's elongated towering over even Logan at his ridiculous height. Its skin is covered in soot and dirt, layers upon layers to the point where Roman almost thought that it was wearing some kind of leather armor. It has rubber overalls on, strapped...strapped to its body with metal hooks that catch the thin moonlight peeking out of its bulging bare shoulders in a way that looks…looks self mutilated. The patchy ugly skin is healed around the metal, molded to it, absorbing it. In one hand is a cleaver, cobbled together from various metals with an unfinished touch and dripping scarlet all the way down the handle to its massive hands. Roman thinks that with one hand it could easily crush one of their skulls.

But worse than that, than the blood, than the stench coming from the thing, than the bloodlust that's echoing out of it: worse than all that is the mask welded to its face. A pale white skin that nearly glows in the darkness, framed with jagged sharp edges of bladed teeth in a terror inducing smile. Soulless orbs exist where eyes might have once been: now there are empty voids without a human behind them.

In a slow, almost robotic motion, it raises the cleaver in its hand. Blood rolls down the handle onto it’s hand and Roman watches the bulb of red drip down into the grass right between the newcomer’s sneakers.

Oh, Roman thinks suddenly very clearly without any room for a single doubt, This is what death looks like.

“NO!” The person in the skirt screams and suddenly they shove forward and throw themselves in front of the swing of the cleaver. Roman isn’t sure who screams louder at that: him, the person in the skirt, or the person on the ground bleeding out.

His brain is on fire, every atom in him is screaming so loud that he can’t hear his thoughts. His own breath flees his lungs with abandon that Roman’s brain somehow hadn’t gotten because instead of running away he’s running towards the monster. His blood boils in his veins and he pushes through Remus with the sort of reckless abandonment of sanity he never would have thought he’d ever make.

His vision locks onto the kid on the ground and his fingers latch on their left shoulder and he hauls them back.

The air next to his ear whistles as the cleaver misses them by centimeters and the person in the skirt screams as they fall to the side, and specks of something wet and warm and sticky flings through the air like its a water fountain; Roman feels it splatter across his face and his brain heart thuds in his chest.

Remus appears on his other side, grabbing Roman’s hostage by their other arm and they both pull them to their feet, ignoring the way they scream in pain. Their torso drips ruby into the dead grass at their feet and Roman-- Roman--

The hulking monster in front of them gives his cleaver a shake and drags it over its own arm to wipe away the blood, like it's nothing more than a hindrance. It turns its entire body towards the person in the skirt, the gorgeous selfless angel of a person that Roman hasn’t gotten the name of-- of someone he isn't going to get the same of because the abomination raises the cleaver again.

Roman screams because he does not want to watch someone die, please he doesn’t want to be in this nightmare anymore, wake up wake up wakeup--

There’s a brilliant white light that explodes at the last second. Roman himself jerks away from it, but that’s nothing compared to the inhuman howl that the creature makes as it stumbles back to the edge of the forest, covering its beady eyes with its massive hands.

Logan flicks the flashlight off and grabs the person in the skirt by their uninjured arm and looks back at them only briefly with an air of finality.

“RUN!” He says.

And Roman does.

#dbd au #sanders sides #roman sanders #remus sanders #logan sanders #Janus sanders #patton sanders #virgil sanders #tw: violence #dead by daylight #Roman is incredibly unlucky #I ran out of nicknames #But heyyyy Virgil's alive!#isn't that great guys? :D #I am trying horror for the first time

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nxrthmizu · 3 years

Text

| the detective and the blue-eyed fox | ch.5

»»——⍟——««

title | all her fault

pairing | Damian Wayne x Marinette Dupain-Cheng

warnings | mentions of death, death, but nothing explicitly described

words | 3.1k

author’s note | im emotionally invested in this series, i have ch.6 and ch.7 planned out too :3 prepare yourself for more twists and (maybe) a major death :))) also this wasn’t proof-read,,, lmk if there are any mistakes! enjoy :3

»»——⍟——««

| beginning | previous part | ao3 |

»»——⍟——««

Three walls of cement and one wall of two-inch glass. Gabriel Agreste faced the four blank slates of his confinement everyday for three months, pondering on how he was going to endure the remaining of his days in his dreary ‘home’. They wouldn’t even provide him with paper to create some sketches on- (What were they afraid of? Paper butterflies? He was powerless without his miraculous).

“So, what business do we have today, Ms. Rossi?” He asked smoothly, business-like as ever despite not being able to remember the last time he had a conversation. Three months of complete isolation- The guards wouldn’t even spare him a single word, and to be fair, he couldn’t blame them.

“Did you hear about Adrien?”

Being straightforward when she wanted to be was one of Lila’s strong traits. Her words were driven to the point, cleared from the lies that typically shrouded them. A borderline sadistic smile traced her vermilion lips when a spark of curiosity glimmered in the man’s eyes- Oh, she was going to enjoy being the bearer of the staggering news.

“What about Adrien?” She could tell- He was expecting something perhaps along the lines of his son screwing up the company he inherited, or perhaps his son making a public statement about-

“He’s dead.”

Gabriel froze from where he was seated on the cement block they provided him with, red draining from his already-pale skin and his bloodshot eyes. “What?” His voice was but a hoarse whisper, a denial, a beg, a plea for the woman to laugh and tell him that it was all some cruel joke.

“He was murdered.” Oh, how she enjoyed seeing the anguish dawn into his eyes. The pain seeped into his body like a parasite, leeching away any will of survival the man had left. “Two weeks ago.”

If getting stripped of his miraculous and being arrested was the sky crashing upon the world he tried so hard to bring his wife back into, then the revelation of his son’s death would be the universe collapsing into itself, becoming a black hole that self destructed from the very core of Gabriel Agreste’s heart.

“Felix Graham de Vanily is combining the Agreste and the Vanily companies with a horizontal merger,” Lila continued, enjoying the acidic pain that burned through the heartless man’s soul. “Oh, and did I tell you? From the day Adrien died, Chat Noir stopped patrolling the city.”

The rush of ‘What if he was murdered because I was Hawkmoth?’ and ‘There are no more Agrestes left...’ smashed into him like water reaching the bottom of the waterfall. There was no mercy behind the strong wave of despair; no mercy behind Lila Rossi’s cold eyes and satisfied smile; no mercy that the world had left for him as a punishment for all his crimes.

“I think I might know who killed him, but I need you to be honest with me,” Lila said softly, enjoying the view of the man’s bowed head. The swollen red of his teary eyes made something inside her heart stir, and it wasn’t sympathy. No, not at all. Her heart swelled with a triumphant laugh, a satisfaction that can only be achieved through the means of revenge. “What happened to the peacock miraculous?”

»»——⍟——««

[Paris, three months ago]

In the midst of destruction you could easily find pain, agony, and despair, because wherever you looked, there was someone who had no time to mourn, but still mourned nonetheless. Ladybug had lost count of how many Paris lost after the hundredth- And the count was only increasing exponentially by every passing second. The former city of love was doing its’ best impression of a society undergoing an apocalypse- In fact, it was a society undergoing an apocalypse.

Exhaustion clawed at Paris’s heroine like a monster that wanted to be released from its’ cage. It tore at her without pause, releasing soreness into her muscles and weariness into her mentality. How much longer did she had to fight? How much longer until she couldn’t go on anymore? How much longer until Paris would fall into the hands of the man who could only focus on what he wanted?

And what would happen to Paris if she couldn’t stand any longer to defend it?

Smoke painted every inch and corner of the skyline in an abstract painting, which would’ve been beautiful if it wasn’t because of the direness of the situation. The clouds were stained a dirty red and firetrucks wailed in the distance, too little of them to keep up with the demand of damage control. Screams echoed across the city, a painful reminder to the heroine of how many lives she had let down. Nothing pained the heroine more than the fact she had been trusted with so many and ended up failing just as many.

A little distance away, shrouded under the same red sky that Ladybug stood under, was the Le Grand Paris. A section of the grand hotel had caved in, leaving the top half of the building in ruins. The golden embellishments of the hotel were caked in dust, the grandeur of Paris’s greatest hotel submitting to the chaos and destruction around it.

“Come on! Get in here! Hurry up!”

Chloe couldn’t believe her eyes.

There stood Mayor Bourgeois, urgently yelling out orders for as many people as possible to get into the hotel’s wine cellar, which would be underground and as safe as it got at the moment. The endless stream of Parisians flowed continuously through the open doors of the hotel, the hotel’s large wine cellar being able to accommodate about half of Paris’s (surviving) population.

For once in her life, Chloe was proud to call the mayor her father.

“Daddy! I’ll go get more people here!” She yelled over the bustling noise. Worry clumped over the mayor and butler Jean’s eyes, but her father nodded nonetheless, a smile slipping over his lips.

“Be careful, my dear!”

On the other side of Paris, Alya was holding onto her younger siblings as tightly as she could, all four of them hidden under the dining table. A loud ring startled all of them, the second-oldest Cesaire turning her attention to her phone. Earthquake-like vibrations made multiple household objects topple and smash onto the floor, much to the twins’ terror.

“Chloe?” She breathed, picking up the call.

The voice that came in response was panting, taking hurried, shuddering breaths. The consistent thump-thump-thump of footsteps also echoed through the phone, accompanied by the distance rings of destruction. “Where are you? Get your family towards Le Grand Paris, you can hide in the wine cellar!”

Alya couldn’t believe the blonde’s words.

“And if you’re up to it, spread the word! The wine cellar is the safest place we have right now.”

The call ended, Alya blinking back her surprise in exchange of a courage that surged forward all of a sudden. “Nora, take Ella and Etta to Le Grand Paris and hide in the wine cellar.”

“And where are you going?”

Alya steeled her jittering nerves. “I’m going to get out there and help.”

Not too far away from the Cesaire’s apartment, Ladybug was swinging through the city, surveying the damage. The whizz of her yoyo felt deafening to her ears, and everything hurt. Her muscles were sore, her legs were shaking, and her vision felt blurry. Half of Paris was a rubble of cement and dust, and the other half was on the verge of collapsing soon.

Ladybug’s eyes widened in horror as she jerked back, catching sight of a familiar building that was so burdened with destruction that she could barely recognise it if it wasn’t for the fact that she knew she was on the right street.

“No. No, no, no. Nononono-” Her breath caught in her throat, suffocating and strangling her from inside.

The bakery had collapsed.

She prayed with all her heart that her parents had gotten out, but from the looks of it, the bakery was hit fast and the chances that-

No.

“Think positive thoughts, Marinette.” The heroine whispered to herself, desperate and unwilling to face what she was sure was the truth. “Maybe they got out. Maybe they got out. They’re fine.”

Even as she swung off, Ladybug knew in her heart that despite the lies she insisted on telling herself, her parents’ dead bodies were somewhere underneath the rubble.

»»——⍟——««

“Mamma!” Tears streamed down Lila’s face as she tugged and pulled at the portion of their ceiling that had chosen the diplomat as its’ victim. There was no use- Both of them knew as well as 1 + 1 that there was no way Lila could lift the concrete block by herself.

The diplomat looked up with a weak smile, already having come to terms with how her life would end- With her lower half crushed by a ceiling. “Leave me here, dear, the building’s going to-”

Lila shook her head stubbornly, desperately trying to lift the concrete again, only to look up in surprise, not having expected a pair of spandexed hands to join hers. Ladybug let out a grunt as she tried to nudge the collapsed ceiling even just a little, her suit tearing due to the rough surface of the collapsed ceiling.

“Come on, we’ll push at the count of three!” The hero instructed, groaning and giving all her strength to the giant piece of debris, but it was no use. Ladybug was tired and worn out, and the little strength she had in her was not enough to overcome the concrete’s stubbornness to stay put. “I... I could...” She flung out her yoyo, trying to think of a way to use the concrete’s weight against itself.

“Ladybug, the building is collapsing, please just leave me be.” The diplomat pleaded. “Lila, please get out of here!”

The building groaned, supporting the woman’s statement. Ladybug bowed apologetically, guilt lurking in every corner of her eyes. “I’m so sorry I couldn’t be of more assistance, ma’am.”

“You’ve done a lot for Paris. I should thank you.” The woman whispered, smiling painfully at her daughter. “I’m sorry, Lila. I love you, forever.”

The girl sniffled, pressing her lips into a thin line. “I love you too, mamma.”

“Come on, Lila.” Ladybug whispered gently, pulling the teen away. It was as heart-wrenching as abandoning a puppy on the side of the road on a rainy day, but the diplomat was right- The building was giving in, and if they didn’t get out themselves, Paris’s death count would only increase by another two.

The escape from the building was quiet, only filled by the whizz of the yoyo. “I’m sorry I couldn’t have done more.” Ladybug said softly.

“It’s not your fault.” Lila sniffled bitterly. Now that they were soaring over the city, Lila could see just how much of it was crumbled and broken- At least 70% of the city was reduced to rubbles, and the Eiffel tower, who had once stood tall at the core of Paris, had now bowed down to the wrath of the man who knew nothing but his own wants.

It was at that moment that Lila Rossi decided that the person she hated the most was Hawkmoth.

»»——⍟——««

You never know the true meaning of horror until you live that one moment that crushes you inside.

It freezes your blood, it makes your heart stop, and your chest feels like its’ being constricted. You can’t breath, and your field of vision just narrows to the one point that defines the cause of all your pain. Sometimes, you don’t even know what you feel. All emotion has been drained out of you, and your brain has lagged behind, unsure of how to react.

Chloe stood in front of Le Grand Paris- The remains of it, anyway, and came to the conclusion that her father saved at least a thousand lives that day. All by putting aside his own safety and shepherding millions of his citizens into the wine cellar.

It was over.

It took hours for the firefighters to dig out the entrance to the wine cellar, millions and thousands of relieved Parisians crawling from the hole. The daughter of the mayor sat and waited, helping wherever she could. There were too many tears shed, too much blood bled, and too many people dead.

She watched the line of Parisians trickle from what was formerly Le Grand Paris’s wine cellar. She waited and waited until the sun finally had mercy on Paris and ended the day that would be marked as the end of the city of love. She prayed and hoped until she saw the last man crawl from the cellar.

And then she faced the truth that neither her father nor butler Jean made it into the wine cellar themselves.

»»——⍟——««

Adjusting to the bright light shining around her was difficult, to say the least. Paris had been shrouded in semi-darkness for the past twenty-four hours.

Marinette sat up hurriedly, groaning at the piercing pain that shot thorugh her spine at the action. All around her were her friends’ worried faces, Alya’s, Adrien’s, Nino’s, Chloe’s- Were those tears on Chloe’s cheeks? And was that Lila comforting her?

“Alya found you passed out in the middle of the street after it ended.” Nino explained quickly.

Ah, that was what they were calling it now, Marinette thought. The battle she had fought for over fifteen hours without pause was now labelled ‘It’.

“What were you doing out there, you could’ve died!” Alya scolded, but despite the tone, the teen was more glad than anything to see that the bluenette had made it.

“Where... Are we? And why is everything so... Destroyed?”

The classmates shared looks that practically spelt ‘Who’s going to break it to her?’.

“Ladybug disappeared after the battle was won. She never got to use her miraculous cure.” Chloe supplied the explanation coldly. “Thousands are dead. Almost every building needs to be rebuilt.”

Adrien offered her a weak smile that was on the verge of breaking. “Hawkmoth is gone for good.” There was a faint suggestion in the boy’s eyes that he was going through much more pain than any of them knew. “Hawkmoth... My father. My father was Hawkmoth. He was arrested a couple hours ago. Nathalie was Mayura.”

Silence shrouded the teens like a black rain cloud. “I’m sorry, Adrien.” Marinette whispered. It was coming back to her now- Chat Noir’s anguished screams when they discovered Gabriel Agreste, decked out in his purple suit, standing in the attic of Agreste Manor, Mayura’s escape- Feeling like she couldn’t go any further. The last thing she remembered was her transformation dropping, and contact with the cold hard ground.

“Don’t be.” Lila responded nonchalantly. “I think I can speak for everyone here when I say that this whole shit was Hawkmoth’s fault and no one else’s. Almost everyone has lost a family member. Some of us lost more than others. It’s no one’s fault, so don’t you go apologising, Dupain-Cheng.”

Her friends murmured their agreements, giving her soft smiles despite the devastation that tore at each of their hearts.

Marinette wanted to laugh.

Thousands dead and it was because she couldn’t hold on for two more seconds to use her miraculous cure.

Thousands dead, including her own parents, Lila’s, and god knows how many others’ parents, siblings, lovers, and friends.

Thousands dead and it was all. Her. Fault.

»»——⍟——««

“Well?”

Impatience decorated Lila’s tone as she tapped her heels, waiting for the terrorist’s answer. The click of her heels echoed through the room, bouncing off the concrete walls to create the loudest noise Gabriel had ever heard in a long time.

“What happened to the peacock miraculous?” She repeated one more time for good measure, irked and irritated by the lack of answer from the other side of the glass.

“It’s gone.” Gabriel answered softly after a while. “When they found Nathalie passed out in that alley, she didn’t have her miraculous on.” The man’s former assistant had fled after Ladybug and Chat Noir confronted them in the Agreste Manor, but two hours later, she was found unconscious in a back alley, and it was later discovered in the hospital that she had fallen into a coma.

Bewilderment lit inside the woman’s eyes, burning beside the fury that blazed inside her soul. “Are you telling me someone stole them?” She hissed, resisting the urge to slam her hands on something.

“No.” Gabriel answered reluctantly, slightly afraid of the woman’s fury. If it was any consolation, he knew the two-inch glass wall would prevent her from inflicting any harm onto him. “I’m telling you that Duusu probably ran off with her own miraculous.”

The woman sucked in a deep breath, regulating her breathing to regain her composure. “Then do you have any idea where she went?”

“Duusu is corrupted and manipulative, but she’ll need a host to operate through. She’d probably look for someone emotional, someone who’s lost a lot and is in a lot of pain.” Gabriel sighed, looking up to be met by Lila’s annoyed expression.

“Oh wow.” Said the woman sarcastically, hands propped on her hips in a pretentious, thoughtful manner. “Someone emotional, someone who’s lost a lot and is in a lot of pain. That just about defines everyone that survived the apocalypse you laid on us three months ago.”

It was at that moment Lila’s sarcastic attitude brought Gabriel to a terrifying conclusion. There was no amount of sympathy in her eyes, and judging from the hate and loath in her eyes... The revelation splashed him like a cold bucket of ice water, waking him up from the small smudge of hope he got to hold for a couple of seconds.

“You aren’t here to get me out.” He whispered. Just when he thought that the sly woman was going to get him out of the four walls he was trapped in- She slammed her true intentions back into his face with no mercy.

“You killed my mother, you bastard.” She smiled so sweetly that he wouldn’t be surprised if she was instantly cast as the beautiful but wicked stepmother from Snow White or perhaps the enchantress from Sleeping Beauty. “As well as the friends and family of thousand others. I hope you rot in jail forever.”

»»——⍟——««

If anyone’s confused on the timeline of the story, this is how it goes:

3 months before current time, the final battle takes place (ch.5). Thousands die because Ladybug didn’t get to use her miraculous cure. Hawkmoth is arrested and Nathalie falls into a coma. Ladybug/Marinette leave Paris after the battle is over.

Ladybug/Marinette heads to Gotham, where Marinette gets hired into GCPD and becomes partners with Damian. She also becomes Gotham’s newest vigilante, Lan, who exposes corrupt politicians

2 weeks before current time, Adrien Agreste is murdered and Chat Noir stops patrolling Paris. (This is when Marinette learns from Tikki that Adrien and Chat are the same person even though the conversation wasn’t written)

Current time (ch.1) Lan asks Damian to help her find the miraculous of the black cat

Damian, the next day, finds out that Plagg and the black cat miraculous have been in his apartment the whole time (He then emails her and asks her to go to his apartment to discuss things)

(ch.4) Damian and Marinette talk

At the same time, in Paris, Luka visits Chloe, who is apparently in kahoots with him

Also at the same time, Lila breaks into the highest security prison in Paris and talks to Gabriel Agreste/Hawkmoth (also partly ch.5)

That’s about it for now :3

taglist. @demonicbusiness @animegirlweeb @roselynfey @2confused-2doanything @insane-fangirl-of-everything @promiswords @galaxylightmoon @fusser90 @ira-sairain @liquid-luck-00 @glastwime859

gen. daminette taglist. @maskedpainter @animegirlweeb @missmadwoman

»»——⍟——««

| next part | ao3 |

»»——⍟——««

#damian wayne #marinette dupain-cheng #daminette #damian wayne x marinette dupain-cheng #damian x marinette #mlb x dc #detective!damian wayne #detective!au #fox!marinette dupain-cheng #fox!Marinette #detective and criminal au #the detective and the blue-eyed fox #cady writesss «

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isoraqathedh · 3 years

Text

Using notation to understand the world

This post was originally an article in my Gemini capsule. You can read it in its gemtext form here. Note that since Tumblr does not like Gemini links this actually goes to the HTTPS mirror.

Notation is the idea that an arbitrary object can be represented by some other abstract object. A specific type of notation, which is the one most people would understand in the conventional sense of the word “notation”, is when the object doing the representing is written. Commonly seen examples of notation include those that represent maths, music, electrical circuits and even lists of key-presses. In this article I discuss how notation has shaped my understanding of things, and also propose a notation-oriented way of understanding something.

How to understand something

There was an xkcd comic that goes something like this:

My hobby:

Sitting down with grad students and timing how long it takes them to figure out that I'm not actually an expert in their field.

In the end, the protagonist of the comic managed to find a field of study where he successfully made inroads into a community by producing words in the right order to pass for genuine knowledge.

This made me think about how someone would go about successfully fake knowledge of something. Eventually, I came up with this two-step process:

Understand the language, and how to recognise something as a correct statement.

Understand how to combine statements together to form a correct third statement.

I brought this up with someone, and he noted that by the time you have done both of these things, you aren’t faking knowledge of something, you now understand it.

In my opinion that isn’t strictly true, but it does come a lot closer than other processes. A studied reader might recognise this as reminiscent of a Chinese room, where someone can fake knowledge by reading in written text (i.e. a question) and responding according to a translation book.

While it may look like a Chinese room at first, a critical difference is that in a Chinese room, the translation book is something external to the operator, whereas the situation I came up with requires you to memorise it. While a rote memorisation would result in something almost entirely identical, a common occurrence with human minds is that it like to take shortcuts, and it is there where the situation becomes markedly different, as the shortcuts are now a form of understanding where you can now produce correct statements without memorising any translation book.

Additionally, a second form of understanding is to be able to generalise from the words you are given. A translation book can give you some rules, but when a human reads it the experience is that he will try to generalise from the existing rules and make up new ones in the vein of the ones he was given. This is expressed in a number of ways – notably some of them are quite distasteful – but the key here is that there is a point where a human would try to expand the rules that he was given and apply it to something unrelated just to see if it works. (Though, in some cases, “just to see if it works” is replaced with “and assume it works”, leading to all kinds of consequences that are beyond the scope of this article.)

Let’s now move away from dry theoretical explanations and show how this applied to me by way of example.

Making your own – the C. C. F. D. N.

The problem statement

When I was 17 I was very bad at Chinese. I am still fairly bad at Chinese, which we’ll get to later.

The main problem with writing Chinese is that sinograms – what the language is written in – are taught badly to me. I could not really understand any of the logic behind writing these unusual things, and what real information was given to me was not well-organised. What that means effectively is that I was stuck writing in a language where I have to reason about strokes from first principles, and just like trying to write a program in assembly language, it means that I missed out in understanding other parts of the language, particularly the things that are in the curriculum, which means that I failed many tests.

Then one day a friend of mine started learning Japanese, and then he had to deal with sinograms as well. But since I’m familiar with them already, I decided to help a little bit. This amounted to looking up the character in Wiktionary and then reporting on its pronunciation and its graphic etymology, both of which are helpful in understanding why a character is written and pronounced (some of the time) the way it is. However, looking up many of these characters realise that a lot of the information is repetitive and redundant. So I then built a little notation to condense it down into something that cuts away all of that.

The notation itself

The result is the Chinese Character Form Description Notation. The exact form of the notation is not needed to make my point, but we’ll discuss it as an aside here anyway. The notation describes the graphic etymology of the character by breaking it apart into its components. For instance, the character “to think” 思 is derived by combining a meaning-carrying component of “heart” 心 with a sound-carrying component of 囟, which was later simplified into the unrelated character 田. Putting that together, the notation would write the above sentence as:

思 = <心|囟→田>

Which summarises all of what I just wrote in an appealing string of symbols. Additionally, this separates it from an existing notation in Unicode called the ideographic description sequence, which instead describes how a character can be broken down in its current form.

Consider now another character, “small, narrow, fine”, which is 細. If I now provide its C. C. F. D. N., you would easily be able to figure out what its graphic etymology is, even without me spelling it out, if I mentioned that the meaning-carrying component 糸 means “fibre, rope, string”:

細 = <糸|囟→田>

But look now that 細 and 思 don’t look too alike, as their corresponding IDS would make explicit. I had not expected that the two are related quite like this – their pronunciations are also quite a bit different – and now that I have made that connection I realised that I had something in my hands that is valuable.

Ultimately, the notation I have invented for myself made everything click together in my head, and it cleared up almost everything that had been blocking me from being able to move away from focusing on what I write and instead focusing on what the writing means on a more abstract level. It wasn’t enough to eventually make me pass my exams, but I feared the language a lot less than I had before I built the notation.

(In a sense, while it was helpful it would never have come on time; reflecting on what I did in my secondary school years it was fairly clear to me that this was a thing that would have troubled me for as long as it did no matter how I did it, and I would have rejected this notation if it was handed onto me the same way that all those other explanations have.)

How the notation changed the way I think

The key to the notation’s success is, in my opinion, the following:

First, it is general. It can break apart a large number of characters and describe their etymologies in a succinct manner. There are very few sinograms where it cannot handle it at all, and in those cases it is typically because the character has an unknown graphic etymology and therefore can’t be described, though undoubtedly there is going to be a couple that would slip behind the cracks. I can’t take full credit for this one, as it is based on an existing method of classifying sinograms.

I will however say that the way I designed (?) this notation allows me to grasp the recursive nature of this classification and furthermore allow me to gain a foothold in scripts that use things that resemble sinograms but are not, such as Sawndip.

Second, it is manipulable. What you can change and in what ways are easily read out by looking at the notation. Whether or not it describes an actual character is another question, but you can basically always produce a valid formula for generating a character and hint at its meaning and pronunciation using the notation. This will prove invaluable if I were to build a script that has similar properties to Chinese characters, this is exactly how I would start approaching it.

Third, it is not clever. The key to a proper notation is that it represents the thing that it does straightforwardly, in such a way that allows one to verify that it is in fact representing what it claims to. This allows me to hook onto it and adapt myself into seeing the notation at the same time I am presented with the character.

Finally, it is flexible. Notice that in the above examples the sinograms are described in terms of other sinograms. There’s no particular reason why those sinograms are chosen. In fact, you can replace those characters with their descriptions, allowing a full drill-down of the character and describing how every little bit came to be in a simple manner. This property allows you to hide away details when such detail is not needed but still permit an exhaustive description if it is.

Reading an existing notation

In real life sometimes an existing notation is already available, and if it is it would probably be better than any notation that you would be able to make when studying it, as it is referencing the entire body of knowledge that it is built on rather than just what a student might learn as he builds it for himself. With that in mind, if one were to understand something by its notation it is prudent to understand an existing notation first before trying to make one’s own.

To this end, I would say that it is helpful to learn something by referencing its notation. Specifically, the question to ask is “how do you write this down, and why do you choose to write it this way?” This question can be asked in multiple contexts and expect multiple answers. What “this” in the question is differs depending on the exact thing you are studying, and the “why” could be surface-level “why this symbol over another” or a deeper “why arrange the symbols in this way”.

Once you learn the notation, the next step is, as hinted at earlier in this article, to learn how to combine two true statements written in that notation into a third one also written in that notation. In a sense, this task is much harder than the other two; if we apply it to, say, English, the first is “reading and spelling” and the second is the entirety of English grammar and literature. The key to this is not to complete the task, but instead to basically learn the subject “the normal way” but using the notation as a centrepiece to unify everything you learnt into it, so that you have a way to relate everything to everything else.

Consider how this can be applied to chords and music theory: you learn what notes correspond to which chords and how to write down changes to those chords, and then you can combine the chords together as simple letters on a page to form music. This is an iterative process: you learn what chords go together nicely based on existing theory, mirror it in the notation, and then generalise it in the notation before turning it back into notes and seeing if it appeals. Doing this correctly, you will both increase your understanding of music theory and also have a nice way of generating music.

Another example where the idea of learning by notation has been successfully applied (but not by me) is site-swap notation in juggling, where someone wrote down sequences of digits to describe how balls are thrown in. The inventor eventually discovered a new way of juggling (called “5551” in the notation) just by looking at the notation.

Shortcomings

It is only fair to discuss situations where notation-oriented learning is not the approach to take when learning something.

Sometimes there is no existing notation, whether because the experts have decided that writing bits of ink on a page is not sufficient for the field, or no one has thought of it, or even that all the existing ones have failed to gained currency because it doesn’t perform or there are too many competing ones. In most of these cases you can get around it by attempting to make your own. You can make this work if you know yourself well, and perhaps even present it to the community as as a way to understand the field itself.

Some people don’t take kindly to writing things down, especially in the more artistic field of study where notation might be perceived as constraining to a creative mind, and even knowledge of the existence of some notation is considered harmful because you’re always supposed to learn things “the hard way”, i.e. without any aid whatsoever, much less written ones. Whether one chooses to heed those warnings or proceed anyway is up to individual preference, but in a notation-averse community – for any reason – perhaps it would not be the best idea to show that community your new home-grown notation.

Summary

One of the ways that I have learnt something is to create a notation system for it. This involves figuring out how to write existing facts in that notation, and then how to create new things by altering the notation and seeing what the results in back in the original object that the notation depicts. I found this to be a greatly useful way to understand topics in general and a central point from which to handle unknown fields of knowledge from, while also acknowledging that there are some fields and probably some would-be learners that may not be suited to this way of learning.

#misc

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