#i played a certain souls-like game and it reminded me heavily of these guys... | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

readyplayerhobi · 5 years ago

Text

Flower | 22

; Hoseok x Reader

; Genre: Fluff, smut

; Word Count: 6.4k

; Warnings: Brief mention of antidepressant side effects, oral sex (f receiving), fingering, sex toy use, insinuated sex

; Synopsis: You finally decide to take a dip into the world of online dating and find the Flower dating app. One of the top matches for you proves to be a guy who looks to be your complete opposite; tattooed, pierced, a metalhead and oh…incredibly handsome. What happens when you throw caution to the wind and reach out to him?

; A/N: I’ve half proofread this but I hate reading through smut again so...I hope you enjoy it all :) please reblog if you did and leave me feedback in the form of comments, reviews or other asks! I’m always happy to read your thoughts on the Flower couple and their evolving relationship <3

; Flower Masterpost

“Okay so...I know it probably doesn’t look like I’ve got you all that much,” You give him a disbelieving stare before eyeing the small pile of books and games he’d already gifted you. “But I got you one more. And I had to hide this because it’s very heavy and I didn’t want you accidentally kicking it and opening it up or anything.”

Watching as he stands up, his cheerfully festive Christmas Simpsons sweats looking very out of place on his tattooed body, he darts off to your bedroom. Frowning, you lean back to try and see what he’s doing, wondering how’d he’d managed to hide something from you in your own room.

He was completely lying because he’d gotten you everything you wanted and more. The new Final Fantasy game, the new Villainous expansion, some of the books you’d been wanting for a while and a few Eeveelution plushies to finish off your set. So what on earth would he have gotten?

It’s even more confusing when he comes back and you see the size of the box in his hands, elegantly wrapped in silver wrapping paper. There’s a pretty fabric bow on top with a tag on it and your brow rises when you see how hard he’s struggling with it.

That brow goes even higher when he sits down with a grunt, the box dropping onto the floor with a heavy thunk. Eyes widening, you stare at it before looking at him in amusement.

“Holy shit Hoseok, what did you do? Kill someone?” He gives you a smirk before cuddling up to you on the floor, gesturing to the wrapped gift with more than a little excitement. You welcome his warmth and idly poke his thigh as you eye the present.

“Nope. You’ll love it though, I promise.” Giving him a suspicious look, you look at the tag first and read it. Much to his amusement. Apparently he wasn’t one of those people who particularly cared about reading the tags, which had horrified you when you found out. Not that you’d written him any sweet notes or anything, but still.

Unsurprisingly, the tag doesn’t have some love filled sonnet on it, just your name and ‘love, Hoseok’. But he’d obviously shown his love through the careful presents he’d bought you, each one something that you loved and adored.

Smiling, you carefully began to peel away the wrapping paper where it has been folded, tugging at the tape until it came away gently. You feel Hoseok’s laugh vibrate through his body before actually hearing it, causing you to look at him in confusion.

“God, you open presents so neatly. It’s like watching my sister all over again,” His smile stays warm, growing even more affectionate. “She used to open presents like you do, as if afraid that you’ll ruin the wrapping paper or something. I don’t have the patience.”

“Gee...I hadn’t noticed.” Turning your head to stare firmly at the bag of torn wrapping paper next to you both, the remnants of what had remained of what you’d painstakingly wrapped.

He snorts before poking your side and nodding with his head towards the present that you’d only begun opening. “Okay Miss Sarcastic, please proceed with the present opening before you cut yourself on your wit instead of the paper.”

You do as asked, or instructed rather, and carefully peel back the paper. As soon as you have a glimpse of the box cover though, all care is gone as you gasp loudly and quickly tear the rest off. Staring down at the colourful box, you take in the words ‘Gloomhaven’ along the top before squealing with excitement and bouncing in place.

“Oh my god! Hoseok! Oh my god! What the fuck? This game is so expensive!” You’re beyond happy to get it though, as if your reaction wasn’t obvious and the amusement in Hoseok’s face is more than apparent. But you still feel a little guilty at the fact he’s bought you this alongside everything else so far. The two of you haven’t even been dating a year and you’re already feeling spoilt.

He wraps his arms around your waist before kissing your cheek sweetly, watching as you pull the rest of the paper from beneath the box and toss it to the side. It’s only when you go to lift the box that you let out a deep groan of surprise and effort, turning to look at him with wide eyes.

“Holy shit.”

“Yeah, holy shit. This thing was 10 fucking kilograms. I feel like I almost died bringing it here. And that’s with the freaking elevator. Open it up, I wanna see what’s in this damn thing.” Laughing, you let him turn the box upside down and use the scissors that had been brought over earlier to slice through the clear stickers that were keeping the lid attached.

Kasumi was currently playing with a ball of scrunched wrapping paper that Hoseok had thrown to her earlier. She had, obviously, been thoroughly enthralled with it and completely ignored the toys she’d been bought by Hoseok and you for her Christmas presents. He’d been thoroughly amused by that but you’d just shrugged and said this was what cats did.

Between the two of you, you manage to get the lid off the box that feels like it’s been vacuum packed in and sit back to admire the interior contents. Carefully, you lift the map board out and open it up, scanning over the intricate map with interest while Hoseok lets out a low whistle.

“Fuck, there’s a lot of shit in this box.” He pulls out a wirebound book along with a rule book, placing them on his lap before flicking through them with interest. Holding up the wire book, he looks at you with wide eyes. “Dude, this is the scenario book...it has 96 scenarios in it.”

Grinning at him, you peer over his shoulder and take them in before carefully taking the book from his hands and placing it on top of the now folded map.

“Yep. It may be expensive but you get your money’s worth at least, right? And you can’t look at it, it’ll spoil the game for you. It’s like an RPG game for a PC or console. You’re only supposed to find out what’s happening as you’re playing, so don’t go spoiling it. And apparently we can only only look at a certain number of characters and stuff. We unlock those through the scenarios.” Reaching in, you pull out one tiny box with what reminds you of a singularity on the top, opening it carefully and pulling out the tiny figure inside.

“This is one of the starter ones, a spellweaver. I want to be this one.” Hoseok takes it from you and looks over it equally as carefully before shrugging, his expression giving away that he was no idea what you’re on about. Giggling, you kiss his cheek and place it back into the box.

“You have no idea what I’m talking about, do you?” He glares at you as you begin to place everything carefully inside. It impresses you how well everything fits in, and you already feel some dread at the prospect of trying to fit everything inside after a few scenarios.

“I’ll have you know that I played and loved all the Dark Souls games.” Biting your lip, you try to contain your amusement as you slide the lid back on and simply admire the game with reverence.

“Oh yeah? Is that because it’s all gothic and hardcore. Did you git gud?” Your teasing of him instantly gets a repercussion as he begins to tickle you furiously, your laughs loud in the apartment and causing Kasumi to pause with her own wide eyes.

“Yeah, yeah I did git gud. Actually, I got so gud that I finished all of them multiple times. What was it you told me once? That you don’t like those games because they’re too hard for you? So...who’s the one who needs to git gud now?” He says, pausing his fingers from his relentless assault and giving you a smug look. Breathing heavily, you let out a quiet laugh before tracing along one of the tattoos on his arms.

“Me, apparently.” Pausing, you take him in before smiling with happiness, your stomach bubbling with joy. “Thank you. For buying me that, it’s really expensive and I can’t believe you bought me it! I’ve been contemplating it for ages.”

“I know. I’ve seen you look at it online often enough. Got me a little stressed when you almost bought it the other week. But I like playing games with you, I’ve decided. So...I got this one so that we can play it together. It can be our game.” Sitting back up, he reaches out and pulls you up with him as you stare at him with wide eyes.

Logically, you’d known that he’d probably have to play it with you as there was no way that Chungha or Soyeon would be interested in something as in depth and long lasting as Gloomhaven. But hearing him say that he’s spent well over $100 on a board game just to play it with you was something else entirely.

It makes your stomach go funny, just like he always made it, and you feel the fluttering of almost anxiety in your throat, making it a tiny bit harder to breathe. Not because you were upset or anything, but you just didn’t really know how to process the love you’d been blessed with from one Jung Hoseok. It was hard for your head to really comprehend that he genuinely meant every word he said.

“Are you sure? It’s supposed to be intense. And long.” Hoseok smirks at you, moving closer until you’re almost nose to nose. His warm breath, smelling faintly of the mint ice cream he’d eaten for dessert at his parents after Christmas dinner, fanning your face. You should be disgusted, but you’re not.

“I know something that can be intense and long tonight. And I wouldn’t have bought it otherwise.” Rolling your eyes at his obvious innuendo, you try hard to stop the smile that wants to break free at hearing him obviously trying to initiate sex. The two of you had agreed to spend the mornings at your respective parents' houses before meeting up here, opening the presents you’d bought each other and spending Christmas evening together for the first time.

Looking over his elegant features, you can’t help but smile as happiness fills you at the sight of him. He’s not paying attention to you anymore, instead having reached over to take one of the books you’d gifted him earlier.

Hoseok had begun to read biography and memoir style books lately, enjoying a wide array of topics. As such, you’d gotten him the entire back catalogue of Mick Wall biographies, which meant he had a whole stack of metal and rock n roll band biographies to go through.

At the moment, he was scanning over the back of the Metallica book with his tongue poking out of his mouth in concentration. The other pile included Lemmy, Guns n Roses and more. You’d be lying if you said that you knew half of the bands or whatever that were in the books but you knew that he’d love them all anyway.

And he had, his face lighting up with excitement when he’d unwrapped each one. It had been a worry that he’d find them boring or something, but instead you’d been given many kisses of thanks. Which had been rather delightful, you would admit.

You’d found it particularly stressful buying him presents for Christmas; panicking that he wouldn’t like whatever you bought or having anxiety that he would already have it. He’d given you a few hints to make it easier for you but you’d struggled over it still. As much as you loved him, and as much time as you spent with him, it was hard to figure out what he’d like.

Hoseok loved his music, but he already had everything he wanted in regards to that. There were no concerts coming up that he didn’t already have tickets to, he bought whatever books he wanted to read and he bought whatever films he wanted. Given he spent so much time at yours, you couldn’t even consider something bigger as he wouldn’t get any use out of it as he spent so much time with you and there wasn’t space in your apartment.

Why was buying presents for men always so much harder? And on top of that, you’d had to dissuade him from buying anything that you’d already bought him. Because he was like a cat whose eyes went wide when he saw something he wanted. That had been the case with the James Bond Blu-Ray collection you’d gotten him as well.

It was limited edition, and he’d spotted it online a week after you’d bought it. It had taken some careful persuasion to make sure he didn’t buy it, along with a lot of internal eye rolling.

“Did you like everything?” You don’t realise that there’s a touch of insecurity in your voice, a hint of uncertainty that you hadn’t done it right. This was the first time you’d ever had a boyfriend over the Christmas period, so you weren’t sure if you’d done it right.

Looking up at you with wide eyes, he makes a small noise of question before looking back at his pile of gifts. It now looks smaller than yours and you get warm with embarrassment but he gives you such a bright smile.

“Yes, thank you! Got everything I wanted and stuff I didn’t know I wanted until now.” He leans back against the couch, giving you another smile before reaching out to you and pulling you into him. Besides the books and the Bond collection, the only other thing he’d gotten was a bottle of his cologne, which wasn’t cheap.

So his pile might not look like much, but it was actually a big chunk of money. It made you feel a little ashamed that your gifts were obviously more expensive, but you reasoned it away to yourself. Hoseok earnt more than you, a lot more than you. You had worked within your means for him while also buying for your friends and family.

“Are you happy with what you’ve got?” Hoseok asks, tilting his head to look at you with expectant brows. You give him a sweet smile of your own before nodding and hugging him even tighter.

There’s a moment of pause before you move your head to kiss him, lips gentle against his for a few seconds. He doesn’t hesitate any further though, moving his hand to cup your cheek and you relax into the kiss, almost sighing into his mouth contentedly.

You’d shyly admitted to him the other week that you really liked kissing him. He’d thought it was amusing that you’d told him that so sweetly, but you’d been particularly awkward about it because you’d never had makeout sessions as a teenager. And it hadn’t been fantastic in college, but you got the urge to just kiss Hoseok for hours on end like an excitable teenager.

It was pretty easy to guess that Hoseok found it endearing, and you’d found he’d been indulging you more often with kisses and just taking the time to let you feel like a loved up teenager once more. You were positive it was no great hardship on his behalf, but you were surprised that he controlled himself well enough that it rarely resulted in sex.

He was indulging you right now and you hummed contentedly, enjoying the casual and lazy way he was kissing you. The smell of the Christmas cookie candle you’d started earlier and the gentle twinkling of the lights on the tree you’d decorated with Hoseok at the start of December make it all feel more...homey. Which you don’t want to think about too much right now; you’re too concerned with enjoying your Christmas kisses to care too much.

Finally though, he pulls away slowly and the tiny whine you let out has him laughing against you. “Calm down, you can have plenty more later.”

Shifting away from him slightly, you push out your lower lip in a pout before giving him big puppy eyes. A year ago, the very idea of acting like this around him, or anyone, would have been beyond humiliating. But you felt comfortable with him, and you felt that this was fast becoming part of the language of your relationship with Hoseok.

He did the same to you when he wanted something. And it worked just as well on you as it did on him.

Hoseok smiles, giving you another quick kiss before gently rubbing his nose against yours. The look in his eyes is no longer sweet and soft, but instead a little more intense. Irises darkening ever so slightly while his pupils widen and you narrow your own at him, recognising that look now.

“Someone’s horny.” You mutter, causing him to smirk. He disentangles himself from you and stands, gesturing to you to stay there before disappearing off into the bedroom. Frowning, you try to see around the couch to get an idea of what he’s getting but when he comes back, whatever it is is hidden firmly behind his back.

“What are you doing?”

“Well, we bought this and never got round to using it. So...I figure that we can see if it’s worth the money. A little...Christmas orgasm? Ever had one of those?” He smirks at you, brows wiggling as he shows you the glass dildo and bottle of lube.

Almost instantly, you go all hot with embarrassment at the sight of him just waving that around so casually. He’d been disappointed a few weeks back to discover you had no sex toys, apparently they were fun for couples too, and so he’d sat with you and ordered some. You say he ordered some, but it seemed most of them were for you.

Which had confused you as to why he was so determined to use them all on you instead of getting something for himself. But he’d just waved off your questions, telling you that he got pleasure out of seeing you pleasured and there was plenty of time to explore stuff for him in the future.

You also got the idea that he still wasn’t entirely happy with the fact that the successful orgasm ratio was leaning very heavily in his favour. He’d given you plenty through oral and with his fingers, eventually figuring out what made you tick while having sex until he could successfully bring you to the brink if you were in the mood.

And then you’d started the antidepressants, and your sexual libido had plummeted. Not only had you shown no interest in intiating sex, though you were fine if he wanted it, it had become almost impossible to orgasm. Even by yourself you’d struggled, unable to fall over that precipice into the pit of pleasure to the point that you’d cried in frustration over it.

As such, he hadn’t pushed the issue too hard because he knew it was a sore point, but you’d slowly discovered that it was possible to orgasm still. It just required...a lot of work. When you’d shyly discussed this with Hoseok, he’d taken it almost as a challenge. Hence the sex toys.

The dildo he’d set on the table was made of clear glass, a pretty centre of pink and blue that swirled around each other and a flared base that allowed it to stand on its own. You eyed it carefully as he sat next to you, a smirk on his face. It was one that you hadn’t used yet and you found yourself squirming with the knowledge he was going to use that on you.

A thin shaft met a bulbous head, the tip reminding you of a closed flower bud. Reaching out, you ran your fingers down the glass slowly, noting how smooth and firm it felt. Along with being a lot cooler than you’d anticipated.

“You up for it? I figure...I can try this on you, see if I can get you to orgasm.” Lips twisting, you take the bottle of lube from him and place it on the table as well, carefully pushing the gifts away to make space. You were positive he’d noticed this too, but you didn’t want to vocalise it.

“What about you?” Hoseok snorted in amusement, giving you a quick kiss before running his hands down your waist.

“Okay, first of all. I love doing things with you sexually. So if that’s all that happened then I’ll just get acquainted with my hand in the shower later. Otherwise...well...it is Christmas so...” Shifting, you bite your lip before looking down at your hands and then reaching for his.

“I think we can work something out.” Despite how bold the words are, they sound a lot shyer with your soft tone. Especially the way you avoid his eyes and he just laughs, kissing your temple affectionately before playfully tugging at your leggings.

You resist for just a moment before relenting, shifting awkwardly and laughing as you both struggle to peel the tight fabric from your legs. There’s a particular moment where Hoseok accidentally bumps his forehead against yours when he leans forward, trying to tug them from underneath the rounds of your ass.

“Ow.” He mumbles and you coo to him, trying not to laugh as you gently rub at his forehead. Hoseok finally pulls them off you, taking your socks with him before moving groaning at the fact he hadn’t managed to get your underwear off too.

Now you can’t help but laugh at the way his lips automatically pout, leaning forward to peck at them before wiggling your underwear off yourself. Almost instantly he’s distracted, eyes focused between your legs and you bite your lip in amusement at how easy it is to get his attention when it involves sex or you naked.

You’d never thought you’d be someone who drew that kind of distraction in men and it makes you feel simultaneously powerful and shy. But you don’t get a chance to think any further about it when Hoseok lightly tugs on your shirt, raising his brows in silent question. The two of you have been having sex for months now, but he’s still respectful about your lingering insecurities.

Nodding, he pulls off your shirt in one quick movement before kissing you deeply once your head is free, causing you to hum in delight as his hand roams your naked skin. You no longer feel fear or panic at the touch of him against your waist and stomach. Instead, it feels reassuring.

A gasp leaves you when his hands move to cup your breasts, Hoseok smiling into the kiss as he runs his thumb along your soft skin before playing with your nipples. You’d gotten changed as soon as you’d come home from your parents and Hoseok had long gotten used to you going braless. Much to his appreciation.

But he doesn’t waste too long, leaving your lips to kiss down your jaw and suck rosettes of desire into your neck and chest. He deviates from what you presume to be his route momentarily to lavish attention onto your nipples, playing with them for a moment with his tongue and ever so gently his teeth and being careful to give both equal attention.

While he loved your chest, he wasn’t a boob man. No, he was firmly an ass man, which was evident by the way his hands had slipped down your body and were now squeezing and massaging the rounds of your ass in an almost reverent way. It amused you and you lip at your lips, tasting him once more and whining at him.

As much as you enjoyed the foreplay he was willing to give, you preferred it when he spent his time down below. Given your feelings towards your body, you weren’t particularly a fan of foreplay involving the area he was currently enjoying. And he knows this, which is why he presses a kiss to the centre of your chest before shifting backwards.

“Okay, are you okay to lay back? The rug should be okay and I’m gonna put one of these cushions under you.” He grabs the nearest cushion and you almost make a scandalised noise as you realise it’s your Pusheen unicorn cushion, but you don’t get chance to say anything as he’s already trying to move you.

So you relent, letting your back relax onto the soft rug and lifting your hips to let him place the cushion beneath them, lifting your lower body up to a place that was more comfortable for him to reach. Stretching slightly, you let out a slow breath before looking at your boyfriend.

And that breath turns into a low whine when you see the way he’s looking at you hungrily, desire almost a living force in his eyes. Given how ridiculously gorgeous he is, it’s an expression that makes your thighs clench in anticipation and your inner muscles convulse in an ache for him. You’ll never not be surprised that you’re the one to inspire that look in his eyes.

“Fuck,” He whispers, running a hand over his face. “Have I told you today that you’re beautiful? And I love you?”

You look away from him then, shyness flooding you and you go to hide yourself from his roaming gaze. He loves to make you go shy with his compliments, knowing that you love them despite the way you protest meekly. And he’s not afraid to lavish his words on you, no matter how cheesy they are.

“Anyway, enough of that.” Hoseok mutters and you’re about to query him, but by the time you look back over at him you’re moaning out in pleasure, eyes squeezing shut while your head presses back against the floor. He darted down while you were distracted and all you can feel right now is the heavenly touch of his hot, wet tongue against your pussy.

“Ah fuck.” You gasp, one hand grasping the rug tightly while your other inevitably moves to grasp Hoseok’s hair tightly, the black strands soft between your fingers. The quiet grunt he gives at the pressure of the pull vibrates against your clit as he sucks on it lazily, causing your breath to quiver.

If there was something you’d discovered about yourself during sex with Hoseok, it was that you weren’t a dirty talker. In fact, you weren’t even much of a talker. Instead, you were a babbler. You just mumbled and moaned and whined whatever came to your mind at the time, utterly unaware of the noises you were making.

Hoseok had commented before that he thought it was hot, that the knowledge you couldn’t control your mouth was a turn on. He on the other hand, tended to be either pretty quiet until the end or he’d run his mouth. You’d never thought you’d like dirty talk until you’d heard him whispering utter filth into your ear, his voice strained and hoarse from the effort.

It was surprising, and also not unwanted.

Now though, he spent the next few minutes with his mouth fully occupied. The tongue piercing that you had grown completely fond of pressed against your clit perfectly when lapped at you slowly, letting every centimetre of his tongue press against as much of you as possible before undulating it against your clit, letting the pressure and friction of the ball rile you up.

Whining, you tug at his hair desperately, feeling the familiar ball of tightened pleasure that is building. And yet it feels just out of reach, as before. Limbs tightening, you begged him to let you orgasm, to bring you over the edge that was so close and yet so far away.

But he doesn’t. Instead, he sits up and licks his lips contentedly, the slickness on them from you and not his own mouth. It’s an attractive sight and you whimper, pussy tightening on nothing at the sight of it. He doesn’t notice though, using his hand to wipe away the rest before looking over to the coffee table and grabbing the lube.

“I’m gonna use this still. You’re pretty wet but I read that you should use plenty, particularly with glass. And I don’t want to hurt you.” You’re almost bemused by the casual way he’s talking now, like he hadn’t just had his tongue buried into your pussy for the last five minutes. In fact, he’s even reading the damn label.

Frustrated, you reach and grasp his hand to attract his attention. “Just fucking put it in me.”

That gets a close lipped smile from him, the expression looking distinctly like he’s trying to stop himself from laughing and you scowl. Yes, you were being abrupt with him. But god dammit, you were lying naked in front of him, desperately horny and needy after being given excellent oral for given minutes and you just wanted to orgasm with your boyfriend once again and not just your own hand.

“Yes ma’am.” Uncapping the bottle, he tilts it up and you jolt slightly at the cool, thick liquid as it hits your swollen clit. He lets a good amount drip onto you before placing it back onto the table, his free hand moving to push the lubrication inside your entrance. For such an intimate motion, Hoseok is showing almost zero interest in having his fingers inside you as his attention is on the glass dildo.

But you moan in relief, tightening around him. He only has the one in you, but your moan attracts his attention back and he grins before adding a second, fingers curling in you and moving easily with the added lube. An almost grateful sigh escapes you and he laughs before pulling his fingers out and grabbing the dildo, wiping the excess onto the head before carefully adding even more.

The head of this dildo is bigger than Hoseok’s dick, and you’re a little nervous as he runs it along your pussy slowly. It’s incredibly cold and firm against you, the temperature causing you to shiver as it presses against the heated bundle of nerves at your centre.

“I’ll go slow, okay? You have to talk to me this time, let me know if it’s hurting or uncomfortable.” Nodding at him, you give him a small smile before your eyes widen as he pushes the tip inside you. It stretches you far more than you’d anticipated and you gasp, fingers grasping the rug tightly as he moves it.

Once it’s past your entrance, the slide is much easier given the shaft’s thinner girth but all you can focus on is how thick the head feels. There’s a brief moment of pause as Hoseok evaluates you before you nod at him and he slowly pulls it out. You grimace as it leaves you, deciding instantly that you do not like the feel of it entering and exiting.

“Don’t pull it out entirely. It...kinda hurts. Like not too bad but, I don’t like it.” You admit, causing him to frown before he nods in acknowledgement. The next few thrusts from him are much gentler as you both experiment with it and you comment on how it feels to him.

The glass is far firmer than anything you’ve had inside you before and you tell him to be careful, knowing that if he moved too hard or rough then it would probably really hurt given the lack of give in it. But you can’t deny that the overly large head is beyond pleasurable as it presses against the squishy patch of nerves on your inner wall, each movement sending sparks of overwhelming feeling through you.

“Move it like...a little down. No, not that way, so the head of it is coming up. Yeah, yeah like tha-ooh my god.” You moan, eyes falling closed as Hoseok does exactly as you suggest. The movement you’ve instructed him to do has the head pressing firmly against those nerves, the pressure intense and you convulse slightly when he moves it again.

“Oh god yes, there. There.” You pant to Hoseok, one hand moving instinctively for something and only stopping when Hoseok grasps it with his free hand, linking your fingers together and giving you something to squeeze. Like the good boyfriend he is, he keeps the dildo in that position as he moves it and you start to beg him to move it faster.

Moaning, you writhe on the floor as pleasure floods through you from the constant pressure and you half recognise the fact that you’re babbling to him to let you cum. But he knows as well as you do that you can’t orgasm from penetration alone, although given how good this feels you’re not entirely sure on that front.

Still, he understands and you almost jump off the floor when you feel the heated pressure of Hoseok’s wet tongue against your clit. A ragged moan leaves you, your free hand grasping his hair once more and tugging tightly as he licks and sucks at your clit almost playfully, enjoying your reactions for him.

You’d curse him out but you can’t quite focus, your entire body and mind centering on your pussy and the tight ball that has once more built up inside you. A small thought wonders whether you’ll not be able to reach it once more but it’s swept away quickly by the feeling of Hoseok’s piercing pressing against your engorged bud, the movement perfected over the months when he could bring you to orgasm.

And then it all combines together and your entire body tightens, loud and ragged moans being ripped from your throat as you shudder almost violently. Your hips move so powerfully that Hoseok can’t even keep movement with you, his mouth leaving you while he still moves the dildo within.

It just adds to the pleasure and you’re struck by the odd sensation of not being able to hear properly for a few seconds, the orgasm so strong that it literally knocks your senses offline. Once the wave has reached its crescendo and begins to soften again, you let out a soft whimper as Hoseok continues to move the dildo, only much slower this time.

It feels good, but almost too good and you push at his hand, telling him silently to stop. You don’t see the look of complete awe on his face when he pulls the dildo out, how he admires the visible signs of your pleasure on the transparent glass as white streaks of your own making coat it.

Instead, you’re just staring at the ceiling as your chest heaves, silent tears slipping from your eyes from just how...overwhelming everything was. The quiet clink lets you know he’s put the dildo on the table and you sniff, feeling particularly pathetic for getting so emotional over an orgasm.

“You came!” Hoseok coos, leaning over and gently resting some of his weight on you. He’s on his elbows, but your raised hips mean that you have the full weight of his own hips against you. Including the very hard erection pressed against you now. “Oh baby, don’t cry. It’s okay.”

“I’m not upset or anything, it’s okay. I just...I don’t know,” Muttering, you wipe at the tears in an almost annoyed fashion and Hoseok smiles. “I’m just feeling emotional. Which is silly. It was just an orgasm but…”

Looking at him, your heart swells with emotion for him and even more tears fall, causing him to smile softly before he wipes them away himself and kisses you. You don’t push him away, instead wrapping your arms around his neck and holding him to you so tightly, fingers pressing into his shoulders.

“It’s okay, you’ve been stressed about it for a while now. Cry if you want, I don’t mind,” He pauses, kissing your nose quickly before smiling. “I said it earlier, but I love you.”

Wiping at your eyes again, you sniff and give him a return smile that’s more than a little shaky. Letting go of him, you watch as he sits up onto his knees, looking down at you while he bites his lip. The tent in his pants is now emphasised by the wet patch that’s been caused by the combination of lube and your own excitement and you feel bad, knowing he’s put off his own pleasure.

Sitting up, you push the cushion away before taking a deep breath. You feel a little sluggish from the strength of the orgasm, but you’ll be damned if you leave him high and dry. And on Christmas no less!

“So...how about some sex for you now?” Hoseok grins immediately at your words and you can’t help but laugh at his eagerness.

“Are you sure? Are you okay? Will you be up for it?” Despite his excitement, you appreciate his words of concern and squeeze his hand in response. Giving him a quick kiss, you take a deep breath to give yourself strength before letting go of him and turning around. There’s a pause, before you get on your hands and knees and look back at him.

This was his favourite position and any playfulness has left his face as he stares at the slick mess between your legs. Licking your lips, you push away the shyness before smiling at him.

“I’ll even let you cum on my back.” His jaw drops immediately. You’d discovered Hoseok liked orgasming onto you. He proclaimed he had no real reason for enjoying it but you thought he got turned on at the physical act of ‘marking’ you in a possessive way. At least...that’s why you enjoyed it anyway.

But you don’t offer it often, so it’s not something he gets to indulge in too much.

“Happy fucking Christmas to me.” He mutters under his breath and you can’t help but laugh as he pulls his clothes off at record speed. Happy Christmas to him indeed.

584 notes · View notes

morganaspendragonss · 3 years ago

Text

The Broken Soul of TK Strand 3/?

there's a little bit more torture in this chapter, but a lot less than in last 😊

ao3 | 3.4k

“TK, babe, wake up.”

It took him a few moments to open his eyes; he was so tired that he just wanted to sleep.

“Come on, it’s time to wake up, there are a lot of things to do today.”

Carlos’s voice was soothing, almost like a siren’s song, but not the kind that smashed ships against rocks, sending sailors to their deaths. This song was pleasant and warm and exactly what TK needed to feel better.

At last, he was able to open his eyes, though he wasn’t sure if he was still dreaming or if he was awake. A figure moved next to him; TK turned, though the simple movement of his head provoked a tidal wave of sensations, all terrible and painful, and he closed his eyes again.

“Yeah, you have a bad concussion and if you don’t deal with it, it’s going to get worse. It could be irreversible.”

“Thanks, babe. I already knew that, you don’t need to remind me that I’m in a horrible mess.”

“I’m only telling you because with every day, every hour that passes, you get weaker and your brain is only going to want to sleep and rest. You can’t let that happen.”

TK opened his eyes again. Carlos looked at him, smiled, and TK saw him kneel down next to him. He could feel the touch on his cheek, though he knew that Carlos wasn’t here; he knew that it was part of his dream or the concussion. Still, it made him feel better all the same—it made him feel protected and that everything was going to be okay.

A loud ringing inside his head made TK clench his teeth so hard it hurt, but not even that got rid of the pain caused by the noise, which pierced his head clean through. He tried to curl his body into a ball, as if that would solve the problem.

TK didn’t know when the pain passed—or, rather, when he began to lose consciousness again without realising. Once awake, he tried to get to his feet, but it was an almost impossible task in his weakened state. Now, he was almost sure that the guy intended to leave him here to die.

He still didn’t understand the story about the ritual, probably because nothing about this dark lord made sense. Much less so now that TK was practically seeing double and could barely distinguish between what was real and what was in his head.

Whatever the case, since the previous day’s nightmare with the heart he had to eat and the wine he’d been forced to drink, not to mention whatever had been done to his shoulder blade, the guy hadn’t come back to pay him a visit, and TK feared that he had abandoned him to die.

(TK would give anything for a mirror to see what was on his back—it hurt horrible, it burned, but maybe that too was because of the concussion)

He tried to remember what he knew about concussion and how much time a person could suffer one before it became truly dangerous. Something told him that he had already passed that limit, but he had to keep fighting, because if there was one thing he knew for certain, it was that Carlos and his father were doing everything they could to find him and save him.

So TK had to use all his strength to fight against everything inside of him that told him to just give up.

“Yes, yes, my lord. His blood is perfect, I did that test that you asked and it is exactly what we were searching for… what you were searching for, forgive me, what you were searching for.”

TK got closer to the door, dragging himself along the floor so he could listen to the man’s voice.

“Tonight we will get his tears and the blood we need for the ritual and tomorrow… Oh, my lord, tomorrow you will rule this world.”

TK only heard his voice—he must be talking to himself, or worse, he thought he was talking to someone else. He was crazy enough to hear voices in his head, after all.

He lay back down on the floor and gazed up at the ceiling. It was interesting how the smell of blood and all the other things around him didn’t bother him anymore; how easily humans get used to horrible things like that.

“He’s going to kill me here and leave me to bleed out.”

“And you’re going to let him?”

Carlos sat by TK’s side and took his hand, stroking and kissing it. TK could feel the actions clearly, which was definitely a bad sign; he was getting worse, as everything that wasn’t here seemed all too real.

He smiled—it felt like the times when he had taken pills and then lay on the sofa, calm and happy from the substances running through his veins. It was like being drugged again and, just like then, as if he had gotten too carried away that he could end up dead.

“I’m so scared, babe.”

“I know; that’s why I’m here. You created me.” Carlos stretched out his hand and, when TK took it, pulled him close and hugged him. It felt so real, and TK would have given anything for it to last forever. “I know you think that you aren’t strong enough to fight and beat this by yourself, but there are few people as strong and brave as you, TK. You can do it, you can hold on until your father and I find you.”

“I don’t know, babe, I’m so tired.”

“Do it for me.”

Carlos’s figure began to fade as TK’s brain took control again. He didn’t know how much longer he could hold out before he short-circuited again.

TK decided not to lie back down—if he forced himself to stay sitting up, then maybe his body would fight for longer to stay awake, thus giving Carlos more time to find him, just as his boyfriend’s image had said.

“Carlos,” Nancy called, upon seeing him leaving. “Can I talk to you for a second?”

The cop turned around—he’d spent half of his time in the station, and the other half in the precinct, as the idea of going home hurt too much. Knowing that TK wasn’t there and wasn’t going to return at the end of his shift… Carlos couldn’t do it.

“Of course, I was just going to the precinct to see if they had anything new. Is everything okay?” He huffed a bitter laugh after saying that—of course nothing was okay. “Sorry, it’s a habit.”

“It’s okay. I actually wanted to see how you were.” Nancy offered him a cup of coffee. “The truth is that I didn’t know who to talk to. I don’t know Captain Strand very well so it would feel weird talking to him, and the others… They’re all busy all the time; if it’s not work, it’s trying to find TK. I think they’re trying to do anything so they don’t think about it, but I can’t. I don’t know how, I just feel paralysed.”

“I understand.”

“I’m so sorry, Carlos. You’re going through something so awful and here I am, going on about my stupid problems.”

“They’re not at all stupid.” They moved to sit in the now-empty kitchen, and Carlos smiled. “Really, I’m happy to talk about how other people are doing; everyone is treating me as if I’m made of glass so they don’t tell me anything and only talk to me if it’s to ask if I need anything. The only thing I need right now is to have TK here, with me; everything else is irrelevant.”

Nancy sighed. “Do you know, the last time I spoke to TK before...before all this happened, it was to argue with him?” She took a sip of her coffee, not looking at Carlos. “I’d put the bandages in an order in the ambulance drawers and he was changing it. I told him that my way was easier, he told me his way was the rule, and I said that we would end up losing time when we couldn’t afford to.

“Then he said that we should ask Cap and I got angry, telling him that I was the one who’d been in the team for longer and I didn’t need anyone to tell me how to put away the bandages. I’d had a bad day, my roommate left and only told me that morning. I took it out on TK and I never got the chance to tell him how sorry I was. It was really stupid, and it was the last thing I said to him before…”

Carlos reached out and placed his hand on top of Nancy’s. “Me too. I didn’t argue with him but I know that I made him feel bad the last time we talked.” He scoffed. “How little an anniversary matters when you don’t know if your boyfriend is going to come home again.”

Nancy nodded. She didn’t know that feeling exactly, but she did have an idea of what Carlos was going through. “We’re going to find him, right, Carlos?”

“I won’t stop until we do.”

Carlos stared down into his half-empty coffee cup for a moment, as if he could read the grounds and have them tell him where TK was.

“You’re still here?”

Carlos turned again, seeing Owen with a look typical of a father whose son didn’t pay attention to him and continued playing video games instead of getting reading for school.

“I’m sorry, Owen, I just…” Carlos sighed heavily and slumped his shoulders. “I can’t go home, I can’t even open the door without… I’ve always had anxiety attacks, but it’s been so long that I’d almost forgotten what they were like. Now, everytime I go home, I try to open the door, but knowing that TK isn’t there, that he isn’t coming back—that he might never come back… I can’t do it, Owen.”

The captain approached the table. Nancy prepared to leave, but he gestured for her to stay. “I understand. I haven’t been able to go home either without thinking that...that TK has escaped and come home. I know he hasn’t, so I can’t go in. I’ve been sleeping here—what little sleep I’ve managed, anyway. Go up and lie down for a while. You need to sleep.”

Carlos nodded because he needed to sleep, because he wanted to stay here, and because Owen felt exactly the same as he did, though they hadn’t been able to talk about it until now.

He accepted the offer and said goodbye to Nancy, thanking her for the talk. He headed to the bunkroom above and lay down in the first bed he found, knowing that it didn’t belong to TK.

He must have fallen asleep almost as soon as his head touched the pillow; he didn’t even have time to take off his shoes. He was so tired, and he had spent so long fighting it that once he decided to sleep, he fell completely into dreams.

Carlos felt himself fall, like Alice down the rabbit hold, ending up seated on the floor. He heard a sob that he recognised immediately and got to his feet, spinning around to find him. But he didn’t see anything; it was so dark that Carlos could only hear the sobbing voice as it came closer and closer.

“TK! Babe, I’m here, can you hear me?”

The cries became more intense, followed by a shout that had Carlos’s hair standing on end. There was no doubt that it was TK’s voice—someone was hurting him. Carlos spun around again, searching for something, anything, in between the total darkness.

“No, please… Don’t hurt me.” TK sounded like he was behind Carlos, but when he turned, TK wasn’t there.

He walked everywhere, but he still saw nothing. The only thing that caught his attention was the floor he was walking on—it seemed like old wood, and at the same time like the forest floor. He was in a cabin that had been abandoned years ago.

Carlos was at the point of screaming when he noticed hands wrapping around his waist from behind—just like he would recognise TK’s voice anywhere, he also knew the feel of his hands and his mouth which now kissed his neck.

Carlos turned, and there he was. But it wasn’t the same TK he remembered from two days ago. Although he was smiling, this TK was emaciated and tired-looking, he had many cuts and wounds, he was pale, and it seemed like he had lost the flow that always surrounded him.

He caressed his cheek and TK pressed his face against Carlos’s hand, like a dog seeking comfort from their person.

“What have they done to you?”

“That doesn’t matter. I’m waiting for you… I’m tired and I know that he wants to kill me but I’m waiting for you because I know you’ll find me and save me.”

“Of course I will, babe. We’re all doing everything we can to get to you; Grace is pulling double shifts in case she gets a call that could help and the others…”

“Only you can save him, Carlos.”

“What? What do you mean?”

“I’m tired, that man...he’s crazy. We should have realised that first day when we saw him at the fire. I recognise him now. I saw him when he took me, he’d covered his face with a hood, but I saw him and I know it’s him. Remember?” TK came closer, legs shaking; if it weren’t for Carlos holding him, he would have fallen.

Carlos sat down and held TK in his arms. If he could take him away from here through the dream, he would do it; instead, he squeezed him tight and kissed his head. “I don’t know who you’re talking about, Ty.”

“The man from the fire. I pointed him out to you, remember? I told you that he was weird and he seemed too interested in what we were doing.”

Carlos shook his head; he had too many things on his mind to remember a conversation from three days ago.

“It’s the same guy who took me. He covered himself so he wouldn’t be seen, but when he hit me, I saw his face. You can see him too, my love. You can see him...you can see him...you can…”

TK’s body vanished. Carlos shouted and called out, but TK didn’t return. He shouted and screamed until his throat was sore, until he was awake in the station, surrounded by Owen, Tommy, and all his friends. They were looking at him as if they were seeing a ghost.

“This is exactly why I didn’t want to sleep,” Carlos said, smiling as if nothing had happened, but his breathing was still shaky and faltering.

Marjan handed him a glass of water which Carlos almost drank in one.

Then he realised.

The vision, the dream—it had been his own mind working. He had been so worried, hoping that someone would give him any clue as to TK’s whereabouts that he hadn’t realised that he himself had seen the kidnappers face. He had seen him twice, as the TK in his dream had said, and he had the image in his head, but it was also in the video.

“We know who the kidnapper is, we have his face.”

Carlos leapt up and raced down the stairs, asking Owen if he wanted to accompany him to the station, though there was no need for a reply as the two climbed into the car. They only had to watch the video of the kidnapping and find the videos from the fire—that man would be in both.

When the guy finished the next part of the ritual that night, TK wasn’t aware of his exit. He’d taken even more blood, too much to remain awake and alert. TK had begged him not to kill him, to let him live, but nothing had worked. The guy’s mind was high on the idea that some creature from Hell needed TK’s blood to come to Earth.

There had been nothing TK could say or do to make him change his mind.

The final part of the ritual was terrible for TK. If he thought that drinking wine and eating a raw heart had been the worst that could happen, he was sorely mistaken—the worst was yet to come.

After listening to him talk, TK had wondered what he meant by getting his tears, but the answer was so simple that he didn’t even think of it.

The guy, covered by a hood, entered. He didn’t say anything this time, like he was in a rush, but TK didn’t have the strength nor the will to ask. He had a box in his hand which he left on the floor next to him. TK tried to sit up—putting a few centimetres wasn’t going to make much difference, but he needed to fight until the end.

Little good it did him. The man kept watching him, and TK realised that his eyes had changed. Last time he had seen him, the man seemed to love him like a sacred idol, but now he had the look of an animal, like someone prepared to do anything without remorse.

He grabbed him by the neck and pushed him against the wall; TK was so weak that the guy barely needed to make any effort to move him. He took out the same knife from last time and pressed it against his neck.

“Give me your tears.”

“What? You want me to cry?”

“You have to cry,” the man demanded, pressing the knife a little harder against his neck. “I can hurt you until I get them as long as you’re still alive for me to extract the blood I need.”

“Please…”

The blade dug into TK’s skin, causing a small cut.

“I have you under my control. I know who your boyfriend is and, if this ritual goes wrong, if after everything I’ve done, my lord can’t come to this world, I assure you that what I will do to your boyfriend will be much worse than anything I’m doing to you. I suggest that you give me your tears; your blood I can take when and however I want.”

As is emphasising his words, the man delivered a blow to TK’s abdomen, making him bend double.

“You’re beautiful, kid, the best possible offering to our lord, so I hate to hurt you. But if you give me no other choice, I will have to take longer to finish the ritual.”

“Please...stop.” The pain in his head was killing him and his vision was blurred, little white lights dancing everywhere, and he felt like he was going to throw up.

Whether it was for fear that something could happen to Carlos, fear for himself, the pain, or the exhaustion, TK began to cry, and the man placed a small flask to his cheek to collect the tears.

He left him lying on the floor for a moment. He hadn’t collected more than a few tears, but he seemed happy, until, without warning, he made a deep cut on TK’s arm and held it over a tub.

“This won’t take long.”

“What are you doing? Let me go, please.”

TK didn’t know when he lost consciousness again, but he thought that it would be the last time, that he wouldn’t wake up. He could tell; he was too weak to stand another session of this torture.

Either way, he was sure that the stranger was going to let him die, or would finish the job soon enough. That closed the window of probability that his father and Carlos could rescue him.

However, if he had been conscious, TK would have heard the sound of vehicles in the distance and the two helicopters that were beginning to close in on the area. He also would have noticed that his kidnapper was rushing desperately around the house; he would have heard the sound of his feet hitting the floor, and he would have seen the agony he felt over being discovered before he could finish his ritual.

But TK was fighting for his life with a concussion that clouded his thoughts and blood loss that could kill him while he slept. Time had run out, and it was better to sleep and dream of Carlos than it was to bear even more pain.

#911 lone star #911 lone star fic #tarlos #tarlos fic #tk strand #carlos reyes #nancy gillian #owen strand #lone star #911ls #fanfiction #my fanfiction #writing #my writing

11 notes · View notes

mirkwoodshewolf · 4 years ago

Text

Robin and Gale Hood; Ben Hardy x reader Chap. 8

*Author’s note*

WARNING! WARNING! WARNING! WARNING! THERE IS A RAPE SCENE IN THIS CHAPTER. IF YOU KNOW SOMEONE OR HAVE BEEN A VICTIM YOURSELF YOU ARE NOT ALONE!! Please call a local hotline for rape survivors and talk to the people there, they’ll help you. I’ve also put a notice on when the scene is about to begin and where it ends so if you’d like to skip that section of the chapter, go right ahead i DO NOT WANT TO CAUSE FURTHER MENTAL HARM BY REMINDING YOU ALL OF THIS TRAUMATIC THING.

Chapter 8,

A capture and tainted soul

Taglist:

@simonedk

@ixchel-9275

@waddles03

@psychosupernatural

@plethora-of-things

@jd-johndeacon-or-jackdaniels

@geek-and-proud

@wormzteef

@queensdivas

@queen-paladin

@queendeakyy

_______________________________________________________

God all mighty. That Prince John sure made good of his threat, and his subjects paid dearly for his humiliation believe me. Taxes, taxes, taxes. Why he taxed the heart and soul out of the poor people of Nottingham.

And if you didn’t pay your taxes, you went to jail. Yes my darlings, I’m in here too. Prince John saw to it that I have my own cell for my song. I think I may even be coming up on death row in the next little while, who knows.

So unfortunately I myself can’t tell you the rest of the tale of what happens, but what I can say is that it’s not a pretty sight. Especially for our beloved heroine Gale Hood. So those out there who are light hearted or sensitive to certain reading material, proceed with caution.

Ever since Prince John’s decree, it had been nonstop raining. The sun never once came out to grace the land, and the soil became wet and muddy. Storms happened almost every day, other days it was just mild rain.

Robin, Gale and the rest of their crew kept a low profile for a bit cause at this point anyone who tried to interfere with business to the crown would be executed right on sight. It broke their hearts that they couldn’t spare the poor people from Prince John’s wrath this time.

Especially Gale because she knew which family was going to be targeted next, the Sharpe’s. But one night she would do something that would regretfully change her life forever.

Riding through the rain cloaked and disguised, Gale rode towards the Sharpe’s family cottage. She stopped her horse and unmounted off of her and walked towards the cottage. She came up to the door and knocked on it and from inside she could hear the panicked whimpers from the children.

“Veronica, take the children upstairs.” She heard Adam’s voice say.

“Adam, it’s just me.” She softly called out. The door peeked open and fearfully peaking out was Adam. Gale revealed her face to him and when he saw it was his friend, he sighed with relief and quickly brought her inside.

“It’s alright my love, it’s just Gale.”

“Oh thank God. I was so scared it was the Sheriff. He’s been threatening to come by any day now to take us away cause we couldn’t pay off our taxes.” Gale lowered her hood and comforted Veronica.

“They’ve already repossessed my blacksmith shop. Soon he’ll get the cottage and then……” he sighed heavily as he sat down on his chair. “What has England come to?”

“That’s why I’ve come here.” She told them. “Listen…..England’s no longer safe for you and your family. You all need to leave.”

“What?” Adam asked in shock.

“Leave England? But we—we can’t….where would we go?” Veronica asked.

“I’ve talked with Kit and he’s got some friends along the docks who are willing to do a bit of smuggling with no questions asked. They’ll take you to Scotland and you guys can start a new life there. At least until things calm down. Or pray to God above when and if good King Richard returns to England to set things right.”

“But Gale we—we can’t just up and leave…..”

“Adam please!” Gale pleaded. “The prisons are filled to the brim with everyone. Not just men and women but children! Children! Now I have been there for you for each of your children and I look at them like they were my own. Other families have already lost their children to hunger in the cells. I refuse to let that happen to any of yours!” tears filled her eyes. “I can’t let any more children of England die, I can’t.”

Adam cupped the young woman’s face and wiped her hidden tears away.

“Alright then, when do we leave?” Gale smiled and hugged the blacksmith and praised him.

“Thank you.” she separated from him and told him. “Meet me at the river in an hour. It’s too risky to travel by carriage or horses, we’ll take the river to the docks. I’ve got a boat ready for us to travel in. Take nothing just come with the kids.”

“Alright. One hour.”

“Thank you Gale.” Veronica thanked her as she took the young female rouge’s hand and kissed it.

“Thank me when we get you lot onto the ship. Remember one hour at the river. Bring nothing else but you and the children.” She lifted her hood back over her head and snuck out of the cottage.

She went back over to her mare and urged her onward to the river to get the boat ready.

But they were unaware that just short of the Sharpe’s cottage, someone was watching them.

As promised, the Sharpe family arrived at the river and when they saw Gale, the older children hugged her and the babies all babbled out her name.

“Ms. Gale mummy and daddy wouldn’t tell us what’s going on?” Laura said.

“Yeah Ms. Gale where are we going?” asked Michael.

“Shh, okay now children listen to me. We’re gonna play a little game okay?”

“What kind of game?” asked Robert skeptically.

“We’re gonna play a quiet game. If you kids can stay as quiet as possible till we reach the docks. One of you will receive a special prize from me.”

“Really? WOW!!” Michael cheered. Gale shushed him and he quickly covered his mouth.

“Alright now everyone onto the boat. And remember children, not a sound. Not a squeak, a peep, or even laughter. We need to be as quiet as possible.” The children nodded and they piled onto the boat first, then Veronica holding her 4-month-old child, and finally Adam.

Gale stirred the boat and soon the family along with Gale rowed downriver.

All was going good so far till the baby started to cry. Gale grew fearful cause she knew if anyone heard a baby’s cry out here, there would be an investigation.

“Ronnie please quiet Aggie down, we’ll be spotted!” Gale hissed softly.

“Shhh hush my little one.” Veronica tried to calm her crying baby down, but it would take a full 15min till the baby finally went quiet.

“Well we know Luke isn’t going to get the prize.” Michael whispered.

“Michael shush!” Robert hissed.

“Yes Mikey shh!” Laura echoed her brother.

“Children please, not another word.” Adam used his stern father tone on is children. Finally after what felt like an eternity, they finally reached the docks.

After unloading everyone from the boat, Gale lead them through the docks, ducking the guards who were patrolling to make sure no one got passed them except for the merchant ships that were ready to depart.

When Gale found the sails that Kit told her about that showed the Scottish flag, she told the Sharpe’s to stay low in the shadows while she did the talking with the ship’s captain.

She then walked up to a big built man with long flowing hair who was giving out orders.

“Captain Hagrid?”

“Aye that be me. Who are yah?” he spoke with a thick Scottish accent.

“You spoke with one of my informants about a smuggling job. Goes by the name of the Scot.”

“Ahh you’re the lass he wanted me to smuggle that family for yah.”

“Yes. Now you are to promise me that no harm will befall this family. They have no weapons, only their children.”

“You have my word lass. No harm will come to them.” They shook on it when a horrified piercing scream echoed through the docks.

Gale turned and soon found the royal guard taking the Sharpe’s out of their hiding places and binding them in shackles. But when broke her heart the most were the children being separated from their parents.

“I’ve always hated that Scot. Plus the Sheriff got to me first before he did.” Hagrid sneered.

“You—you bastard!” Gale quickly took out her knife and sliced the captain’s throat with quick precision before going to the Sharpe’s to help them out.

She knocked out a couple of the guards and freed Adam from his shackles before giving him one of the guard’s swords to him while she withdrew her sword. The two of them stood protectively in front of Veronica and the children before a neigh was heard from the shadows.

Walking out riding on top of his menacing looking black horse was the Sheriff of Nottingham himself.

“Going somewhere Mr. Sharpe?” his low graveled voice spoke as he stared down at all of them with cold, dead eyes.

“Sheriff of Nottingham……I’m taking my family and we’re leaving. You can’t harm us if we aren’t in England anymore.”

“True. But you haven’t left England yet, have you?” soon one of the guards quickly grabbed Gale under her arms while another knocked Adam over the head sending him down to the ground.

“NOO!!” Veronica screamed.

“DAD! DADDY! PA!” the kids chorused out worriedly.

“ADAM!!”

“Take the Sharpe’s to the jail for refusal of tax payment and for fleeing the country.” The Sheriff said. They once again shackled Adam’s unconscious body before dragging it away as well as the rest of his family.

The kids all crying out for Gale to help them. Gale tried as best as she could to get out of the guard’s arms but he kept a tight hold on her.

“Sir, what should we do with this one?” asked one of the guards.

“This gentlemen is the notorious Gale Hood, sister of Robin Hood. Allow me to take her from here. Go rejoin the others in putting the Sharpe’s away. And also see to it that the children get a special accommodations.” The Sheriff said grinning cynically at the last statement.

He knew this would get a rise out of Gale due to her closeness with the family. When the guards left and the bigger guard released her, she quickly withdrew her bow and notched an arrow in the blink of an eye and had it aimed right between the Sheriff’s eyes.

“You think your life is worth more than theirs?! You’re a demon Sheriff of Nottingham! A vile, prideful, lustful, incubus of Satin. I swear if anyone of those Sharpe children die, I will cut off your cock and force it down your throat!” she snarled threateningly.

The Sheriff spoke not a word, only just looked down before suddenly whipping out his sword and slashing apart Gale’s bow. She stood there frozen for a split second before withdrawing back her sword but the Sheriff forced her to drop it when he slashed her right arm.

She screamed in pain as she knelt down on the ground gripping her bleeding arm. The Sheriff got off his horse and just walked over to her and grabbed her hair and forcefully threw her head back. She hissed and groaned in pain.

“Now this is how a woman should behave. Best to be seen, never heard. And always at the knees of her man.”

“You think I’d willingly suck you off? I wouldn’t touch you to punch you.” she hissed.

“You’ll soon know your place Gale. Just like your whore of a mother did.” She clenched her hand into a fist and punched him right in the dick sending him down to the ground and she quickly raced away from the docks and into the forest.

A chase soon happened as the rain once again became a thunderstorm. Gale ran as quickly as she could through the forest but the Sheriff was close behind her on his horse.

This time he wouldn’t lose her.

Through the muddy trails, Gale would slip but she’d quickly use it to her advantage as she turned another way while it took his horse awhile to turn back around. Gale then scaled up a tree and proceeded the jump from branch to branch, but the Sheriff was close behind her.

When she came to a familiar path she jumped down to the ground and slide along the mud but quickly came up and jumped through a narrow opening between the narrow opening of the end of the forest.

The Sheriff’s horse neighed as it reared at the sudden closure of the forest but the Sheriff driven by his hatred and desire to capture at least one of the Hood siblings, tried to find another way out of the forest.

Gale ran across an open field until she reached a graveyard. For just ahead was the church where Friar Tuck would give her sanctuary. Exhausted and tired from the fighting and getting dizzy from the blood loss in her arm, Gale pushed on till she reached the church.

“SANCTUARY! PLEASE FRIAR TUCK GIVE ME SANCTUARY!!!” she screamed at the top of her lungs over the loud rain and thunder while pounding on the closed doors. She heard the roar and hoofbeats of the Sheriff’s horse and he was now coming right for her.

Gale quickly ran to the back towards the graveyard of the church but she didn’t get far. She felt her cloak being grabbed from behind, choking her before feeling herself get kicked in the back but what sent her into a world of blackness was when she hit her head against a gravestone.

Her mother’s gravestone to be exact.

The Sheriff got off his horse once again and walked towards Gale’s unconscious body. What was going through his mind at that moment was—pure lust. But it was soon interrupted with a flash of lightning lit something on her left ring finger.

He looked down at her hand confused and intrigued as he reached out and took her left hand and wiped the mud away to reveal a familiar ring. He gasped and said.

“The Queen’s ring.” His fear then turned to pure disgust as he fully turned Gale onto her back. “To think the Prince would choose you. You’ll never be anything to him. Well after I tell him he beloved committed suicide, I’ll have to help him out of his misery.”

He took out his dagger and raised it over his head. But before he could plunge it into Gale’s heart, he was hit over the head and knocked off of her unconscious body.

“Get away from my daughter!” a voice snarled at him. The Sheriff held his head to see that it was bleeding and when he looked up, there was Friar Tuck holding a long candelabra in his hands, standing protectively in front of Gale.

“This is none of your concern Friar. You’ve known from the beginning that their family’s been cursed with black magic!”

“You claim her to be a witch just because of your lustful desires towards their mother all those years ago! You then convinced Richard to proceed with a witch trial and have their mother burned at the stakes when she was completely innocent! If you so much as lay a sinful finger on her again……”

“You’re mighty preachy Friar and you’ll end up preaching yourself right into a hangman’s noose. Now for the last time, stand. Aside.” Friar Tuck refused and swung the candelabra right at the Sheriff’s face.

The two men proceeded to battle it out with each other. The Friar getting a good few shots at either the Sheriff’s face or jabbing him in his gut.

“You want damnation?! I’ll give you damnation!” The Friar yelled at the Sheriff. But soon the Sheriff grabbed the candelabra and pulled it out of the Friar’s grip and pushed him down to the mud. He placed his sword at Friar Tuck’s neck and the Sheriff spoke.

“I’ll do you one better. You’re under arrest for high treason to the crown.” He then took out some shackles and placed one around Friar Tuck’s neck. Knowing he couldn’t fight back anymore, Friar Tuck surrendered to his fate.

The Sheriff then walked over towards Gale’s unconscious body and hauled it over his shoulder before going back to his horse and draped her across the black Shire horse.

He then walked back over to Friar Tuck and grabbed the chain, then like a dog, led Friar Tuck over to his horse and the three of them left the church.

From inside the church, Anita and Jim who had watched the entire thing stood in shock and horror. Sister Anita wept into her hands while Father Jim tried to comfort her and the two watched helplessly as their Friar and Gale were taken away by the Sheriff.

At the palace as the thunder continued to softly rumble in the sky, Prince John sat down in his throne room surrounded by his gold coins but had a permanent angry scowl on his face.

If one had to compare, his eyes would be seeing red right at this very moment. Heston stood by his throne looking up at his master anxiously.

“Sire, if I may—you’re not your usual cheery self today.” The Prince didn’t answer him, just kept his fists clenched till his knuckles turned white. “I know. You haven’t counted your money for days, hmm? That always cheers you up.” Heston then fiddled with some of the gold coins with his tail but still the Prince didn’t even flinch from his throne. “Sire, taxes are pouring in, the jail is full. Oh and guess what sir, Friar Tuck and Gale Hood are in prison.”

“FRIAR TUCK!?!?” Prince John exploded as he knocked down some of his piles of gold when he stood up with rage. “IT’S ROBIN. HOOD I WANT YOU IDIOT!!! Oh I would give all my gold if I could get my hands on—” he stopped when he remembered the second name. He wet his lips with his tongue as he asked Heston. “Did you say Gale Hood?”

“Did I? Y-y-yes sire. She was trying to aid an escape for the Sharpe family when the Sheriff stopped them.” Prince John pondered before he exclaimed joyously.

“Ahh! Heston I have it! I’ll use that lascivious sister of his to lure Robin Hood into another genius plan of mine.”

“Another trap sir?” Heston asked hesitantly.

“Yes, yes you stupid serpent. Gale Hood will be led to the gallows in the village square tomorrow and burned at the stake for the crime of witchcraft.”

“But sir. Burn Gale Hood, for witchcraft? Shouldn’t there be a trail for her before we suddenly execute her?”

“I’ve seen it for myself back at the tournament of her witchcraft. And the Sheriff has told me more things she’s done to prove herself a witch. Hell even their own mother was a witch. And when our brave hero comes to rescue his sweet, little sister from the breath of hell’s fire. Ha-ha. My men will be ready. Ah-ha!” Prince John spoke cold and darkly as he stared down at the stake where they’ve used to burn witches in the past while thunder continued to rumble.

*WARNING START OF SCENE. PROCEED WITH CAUTION*

When Gale finally woke up, she found herself in a dark room. At first her vision was blurry but her other senses started to come back, she felt on her wrists and ankles chained down.

She tried pulling on them but she was tightly bound. She felt on her back she was lying on some sort of bed.

“I was beginning to think you wouldn’t wake up.” Her heart began to beat in fear for when she turned, standing over the bed was the Sheriff staring down at her with lustful eyes. “If you’re wondering where you are, you’re in the palace. But don’t even bother screaming. Not even your precious Prince will be able to hear your screams.”

At this point Gale was too horrified to even speak, plus she was still out of it from hitting her head as the Sheriff’s face seemed to double even triple through her unfocused vision. The one thing she did feel was him stroking over her bare arms.

“Such…….beauty. I can see why the young prince would fall for you. Your skin…….so soft. Just like hers was. I wonder,” he then lightly clenched his hand around her throat. “If you can perform as well as her.”

The next thing she knew, he got on top of her, her clothes were being ripped apart and he proceeded to rape her. No matter how much she tried to fight back, she couldn’t do anything to get the Sheriff off her.

Her screams echoed through the room but no one could hear her. For you see he had taken her to the lowest dungeons the palace had, a place where it’s eternal darkness and emptiness. Even if the rats and dripping water from the walls don’t make you go mad, the eternal darkness will.

And it was there the Sheriff committed the ultimate sinful action of taking a woman’s innocence before marriage and without consent.

After raping her for over an hour and a half, a knock was soon heard at the door. He covered Gale’s mouth and hissed down at her.

*END OF SCENE. WORD IS MENTION BUT IT’S NOT ACTUALLY HAPPENING AT THIS POINT*

“Not. A. Word.” He held up his trousers and opened the door just a bit and there stood a guard who relayed Prince John’s decree to the Sheriff. His brow quirked with intrigued and he said to the guard. “Alright, tell the Prince I’ll be setting it up in a moment.”

“Yes sir.” The door closed and the Sheriff told the broken woman.

“Seems you’re finally following in your mother’s footsteps. At dawn you will be burned at the stake and your marriage to the prince will be forgotten. After all why would he want a tainted bride such as you? And even if he did, at least I loosened you up for him.”

After dressing himself and making himself look presentable once again, he left the room and slammed the door behind him and locked it up.

Gale, now a broken shell of her former self allowed the tears to fall down her face as she softly began whimpering brokenly.

Why didn’t she fight harder? Why was she weak to stop him? Had she just turned around and stopped him back at the church none of this would’ve happened. It was her fault she had been raped. It was her fault the Sheriff overpowered her.

It was all her fault. She thought to herself over and over again.

Someone was walking down towards the cell where Gale was said to be. The cloaked figure walked through the dark, black hallways with only a torch to light their way. When the person arrived at the cell, they brought out the key and unlocked it.

The door slowly opened and the person walked inside and knelt down beside Gale. Their heart broke into a thousand pieces as soon as they saw the broken form of her still body chained up to the bed.

The person then unlocked her bounds then as soon as she was free, she suddenly lashed out like a wild animal.

Gale knocked the person over and nearly punched their face in when a soft female voice said.

“Gale! Gale! Gale it’s me! It’s Maid Marian!” Her anger suddenly flashed to horror.

“Marian? Oh god I-I-I-I-I…….” Gale quickly got off of her and went over to the corner of the cell and made herself smaller, hoping to disappear into the darkness.

Marian shined the torch towards her and when she saw Gale was stripped of her clothes, exposed to the elements, she set the torch down and unhooked her cloak.

“It’s okay, it’s okay now.” Very cautiously she got closer and closer to Gale and covered her up so that she had her decency back.

“I don’t deserved to be covered in a white cloak. White is pure, untainted, innocent. And I—”

“Stop right there Gale Hood. What has happened to you was—unforgiveable. But it doesn’t make you less of a lady than I am.”

“But Marian…….I—I’m not a…..I’m not a virgin anymore. He’s taken it away from me. I don’t even deserve to even be in your presence.”

“Wrong. You do. Because what you need now more than ever is a friend. Nay your future sister in law. And I will not allow you to degrade yourself like this. God will forgive you because you did not commit the sin of lust. The Sheriff did.”

A sniffle was heard from Gale as she said.

“What if James finds out? What if he won’t—”

“He will not care. If anything, he’ll kill the Sheriff should he find out. In fact, I’ll tell him myself if I……”

“NO!!” Gale snapped out. She looked down shamefully and gripped the cloak tighter around herself. “He can’t find out. Not like this. I—I should be the one to tell him. Please Marian promise you won’t say a word to James.” Even though every bit of her was wanting to run to James, tell him what the Sheriff had done to his future wife, Marian knew that Gale had to be the one to tell James of what happened tonight.

“I promise.”

“Thank you, sister.” Gale leaned her head against Marian’s chest, right over her heart. Marian slowly wrapped her arms around Gale and held her little sister in her arms.

Sending her every bit of comfort she could muster while the two of them sat in the emptiness together.

Outside the village square, the Sheriff of Nottingham along with two of his guards were prepping the stake for a witch burning. The Sheriff stroked the stake with his gloved hand and he said.

“The fox siblings will finally meet their end come daybreak.”

“Sheriff, everything’s in order.” Said one of his guards.

“Excellent.”

“Alms, Alms, Alms for the poor.” A crackly voice spoke up. The three men turned and saw an old blind man coming towards them with his cane poking at the ground and a small mug in his hands. “Oh say now, did me ol ears hear the melodious voice of the Sheriff?”

“Who wants to know?” the Sheriff asked.

“Oh just an old praiser of yours. Being blind, you help keep the thieving scoundrels off the streets after all.”

“Well then…..I suppose you are worth staying around then, aren’t you?” the old man walked closer to the gallows and poked the stage with his cane.

“What’d be going on here?” the old blind man said.

“If you must know old man, we’re finally gonna be rid of one of those thieves once and for all. We’re going to burn Gale Hood.”

“No burn my—” the old man lifted his glasses to reveal Robin Hood but he quickly lowered his glasses back down as soon as the Sheriff burned down and he spoke in the gravelly voice again, “Burn Gale Hood?”

“You bet, at dawn. And maybe it’ll even be a double burning.” Said a smaller, leaner guard. But the bigger and bulkier one hit him on the head as he snarled lowly.

“Put a cork in it yah wanker.”

“A double burning eh? Who be the other fellow who gets the hellfire?”

“Sheriff, this old man’s asking too many questions!” said the bulky guard as he held his crossbow at Robin. Robin tried to ease the situation as he said.

“Nahh sonny I didn’t mean no harm by it. But umm…..couldn’t there be trouble if her brother or—even Prince James were to stop it?”

“Well what do you know Sheriff he guessed it. And he even found out about our plans for the young Prince.” The smaller guard laughed out boastfully.

“Oi Nutsy! Button your beak.”

“Oh no need to worry about that. The Sheriff be too crafty, to clever, and too smart for the likes of them says I!” Robin praised the Sheriff who took his compliments like a praise.

“For being blind old man, you sure do know a good character when you see on. Says I.” The Sheriff boasted to himself, while from underneath the hat and glasses, Robin was glaring pure hatred up at the Sheriff. Robin then snuck away carefully as the bulkier guard told him.

“Sheriff. I still got a feeling that this old coot knows too much.”

“Oh shut up Jacob. He’s just a harmless old blind beggar.” Robin then continued his mantra of calling out alms for the poor as he tried to guide himself out. When he reached the exit, in the shadows stood the rest of the Merry Men.

“Rob!” Little John softly called out. Robin quickly stood by his men as Little John continued, “We can’t let them burn Gale.”

“A jailbreak, tonight. Is her only chance.” Robin said as he removed the glasses from his face.

“A jailbreak!?” said Gilbert and Kit in unison.

“Robin there’s no way we can…….”

“Boys we’ve got to!” Robin hissed at them as he removed his raggedy hat. “I promised myself that I wouldn’t lose Gale the same way we lost our mother.”

His men looked at him apprehensively but they all looked at Gale like a sister and couldn’t bare it if she were to burn at the stake.

“What’s the plan?” asked Little John.

“In order for that to happen, we’re gonna need three more players.”

“You don’t mean…..” David said.

“Yes.”

“It’s too risky. What if—”

“If James finds out, he’ll immediately jump at the chance to help. Besides he’s involved already. If he dies, King Richard’s line comes to an end. And we’ll be stuck with Prince John and the Sheriff till England burns to the ground.”

“Robin’s right. But—how are we gonna get into the palace, break into the jail, free Gale as well as the people without being seen?” Gilbert asked.

Together the five men left to regroup and carefully plan out their jailbreak. And time was of the essence.

10 notes · View notes

thebladeblaster · 4 years ago

Text

Pokémon: the Dark Circuit (aka Vanguard Descends season 2)

Chapter 3 New Allies

Aichi’s current team

Level 79 Wingal (Lycanroc (dusk)) rock

Moves:

Stealth rock

Crunch

Stone edge

Play rough

Level 77 Llew (Golisopod) water/bug

Moves:

Sucker punch

Blizzard

Liquidation

First impression

Level 78 Gancelot (Lucario) fighting/steel

Moves:

Focus blast

Stone edge

Meteor mash

Dragon pulse

Level 85 Soul Saver (Haxorus) dragon

Moves:

Outrage

Iron tail

Dragon dance

Scale shot

Level 100 Alfred (Aegislash) ghost/steel

Moves:

Sacred sword

King’s shield

Iron head

Shadow Claw

“We are sending you over to Kanto. There’s strong trainers there that can help you find Aichi.”, Takuto said.

In Kanto…

Misaki, Kamui, Miwa, and Kourin had just come upon the coast of Kanto.

“So, this is the Kanto region. Hopefully, these guys will be worth coming all the way out here.”, Kamui commented.

“I don’t think they would send us here for nothing.”, Miwa replied.

The dock looked heavily guarded which made them feel a bit nervous. Countless Pokémon and military trainers lined the edge. They could also see several powerful water type Pokémon circling the waters. The flag on their ship was Kakusa’s: Their flag was green with Arceus’s golden ring on it with gold circular streaks along the ring. Kamui and Miwa had some trouble hiding the nervousness they felt. They were entering in through Pallet town, which was where the trainers they were waiting for resided. Their ship stopped before the dock. Misaki was in front, keeping the coolest expression she could. One of the people sent with them on the ship put the plank down so they could cross. One of the government agents came by and showed an ID confirming that they are from Kakusa which one of the guards looked at before nodding. The guards cleared a path for them. One by one they stepped onto Kanto. They were mostly quiet as the agent led them along.

They entered the once small town of Pallet town which has seen quite a bit of growth in the last few years. They were not sure exactly which building they would be led to. But, they certainly didn’t expect it to be a small game shop.

In Alola…

They had defeated some of the many bloodthirsty Pokémon who had attacked them and Gancelot gave Aichi back their Poké balls. They then had met back up with Alfred, Wingal, and Llew.

“Wingal what are you doing out like this? You look very hurt.”, Aichi said, before he scooped up Wingal protectively in his arms.

“Lycanroc. Lycanroc. Lycanroc. Lycanroc. Lycanroc. Lycanroc. Lycanroc.(Sorry about that, I just wanted to help out. I don’t want to be a burden. )”, Wingal apologized, looking down seeing how worried he made his trainer.

Aichi looked surprised at this and Soul Saver tilted her head in confusion.

“You’re not a burden! What made you think that?!”, Aichi questioned.

“Golisopod. Golisopod. Golisopod. (See I’m not the only one, Wingal.)”, Llew said.

“Lucario. Lucario. Lucario. Lucario. Lucario. Lucario. Lucario. Lucario. Lucario. Lucario. (None of us thinks you're a burden, Wingal. You're an important member of the party.)”, Gancelot assured.

“Haxorus! (Yeah definitely!)”, Soul Saver agreed and Alfred nodded in agreement.

Aichi looked down at Wingal and gave him a warm smile. Wingal just blushed lightly and buried himself in Aichi’s arms.

“The castle is that way.”, Alfred said as ‘pointed’ with his cloth-like arms.

They all started towards that direction. Little did they know Team Asteroid’s elite squad was coming to Alola and that they were being watched.

In Kanto…

A short old man with spiky silver hair came up to Kai and the boy with the necklace.

“Some people have come to see you, Yugi.”, the old man said.

The boy with the necklace now known as Yugi turned to see Misaki, Kamui, Kourin, and Miwa. Their eyes widened in shock seeing Kai and Miwa gasped.

“Hey, Kai it’s you! Long time no see!”, Miwa greeted.

Kai looked over to them a bit surprised, but he didn’t show it.

“What’s he doing here?”, Kamui questioned.

“You guys know Kai?”, Yugi questioned, pointing towards Kai.

“Yes, and you must be Mutou Yugi right?”, Misaki replied.

“Ah! Yes! That’s me. Who are you guys exactly?”, Yugi replied in a sheepish manner reminding them of Aichi.

“I am Tokura Misaki. I am the psychic type gym leader of the Kakusa region.”, Misaki replied.

“I’m the whirlwind fighter with 8 gym badges! The great Katsuragi Kamui!”, Kamui introduced himself boastfully puffing out his chest.

That made Yugi sweat drop a bit.

“He’s just like Jonouchi”, Yugi thought.

“I’m Taishi Miwa. Nice to meet you.”, Miwa introduced.

“Kourin.”, Kourin introduced simply.

“The Kakusa region…”, Yugi trailed off, the region wasn’t super well known though he’s felt like he’s heard of it before.

“Weren’t they the one with that Christmas thing?”, the ghost? Translucent person? Questioned next to him.

The others didn’t react to this at all as if they couldn’t see or hear the mysterious specter.

“Oh, yeah that was Kakusa wasn’t it?”, Yugi gasped in realization.

Flashback

Christmas Eve

Yugi was carrying around boxes in his grandpa’s game shop. A blond teen with brown eyes wearing a jean jacket, a white shirt , and jeans was laying on his coach flipping through channels. His name was Katsuya Jonouchi. Sitting in one of the other chairs was a boy with brown hair and brown eyes he had on a black jacket, a white shirt, and jeans. His name was Hiroto Honda. In another chair was a girl with brown hair and blue eyes she wore a light pink dress shirt with a pink choker and jeans. Her name was Mazaki Anzu.

“You need help with that Yugi?”, Anzul asked.

The screen on the tv turned to a certain Christmas broadcast.

A massive parade went through the Kakusa region. The floats were big and boisterous with massive Santa, Reindeer, and other Christmas blow ups. Golden bells rang and on one of the platforms Ultra Rare performed. Many citizens came out to watch the parade come by. Aichi was a part of the parade dressed as Santa Claus. Soul Saver and Wingal had reindeer costumes. Ahmes, Gancelot, Llew, and Alfred had elf costumes. The media’s cameramen all focused their attention on the boy and Ultra Rare.

“For those of you who don’t know this is our newest champion, Sendou Aichi! He became our champion and hero after defeating Suzugamori Ren and driving away Team Asteroid!”, a reporter on the tv said.

Yugi gasped in shock, turning his attention to the tv along with the others.

“W-what somebody actually beat one of those guys?!”, Jonouchi gasped in shock, sitting up.

“That can’t be true.”, Honda commented.

Anzu quickly got out her phone.

“It’s real!”, Anzu gasped, showing them her phone.

It was an article from the Kakusa region a few months ago. It told about how Suzugamori Ren became champion of the region and how Team Asteroid started to take over. Yugi walked over reading the article shocked. They hadn’t heard of the take over here because sadly many news outlets didn’t see Team Asteroid taking over or attacking other regions as big news anymore. It had very sadly become the norm.

“That’s amazing! They were able to completely drive away Team Asteroid like that!”, Yugi gasped in awe.

“So...what exactly are they doing?”, Jonouchi asked, pointing at the screen.

Yugi’s grandpa, Mutou Solomon, the old man from before, froze when he looked at the broadcast. Yugi looked over to him with a bit of confusion as he saw tears in his eyes.

“Is something wrong grandpa?”, Yugi asked a bit concerned, putting the box down.

“It’s Christmas.”, Solomon replied sounding a bit emotional.

“Christmas? What’s that?”, Honda asked.

“It’s a holiday, a certain day of the year where you hold some sort of celebration. We used to celebrate it here every year before the war. You give presents to your loved ones and have something like a party.”, Solomon explained.

“So, that’s Christmas? It sounds like a nice holiday.”, Yugi replied.

“I never thought I would see a Christmas celebration again in my lifetime. Like many of the other holidays we used to have it’s no longer celebrated because people are too scared of Team Asteroid attacking during it.”, Solomon continued.

“Maybe we should stop letting ourselves live in fear and celebrate Christmas. That would be nice wouldn’t it grandpa. We can have a small celebration here.”, Yugi suggested, smiling at his grandpa glad that the broadcast was making him happy.

“Oh Yugi we couldn’t…”, Solomon replied.

“Why not? Nobody has to know.”, Jonouchi replied, with a grin.

Flashback end

Yugi didn’t exactly know what they wanted with him, but he was thankful for the bit of happiness Kakusa was able to give his grandfather.

“...anyway. We’re here because we need your help to find our friend Sendou Aichi.”, Misaki explained.

“Sendou Aichi...he’s the one who defeated Suzugamori Ren, 001q.”, Yugi thought.

“Aichi’s missing?”, Kai questioned.

“Yeah, it’s weird a massive tsunami suddenly hit Sanctuary town out of nowhere and he was gone.”, Miwa explained.

Kai looked down feeling a bit worried. His fists shook. He had a feeling that was no normal tsunami.

“I don’t know how I could help you. I can battle, but I don’t really have anyway to find someone.”, Yugi replied, looking down.

The others looked a bit disappointed.

“You might be able to. You were able to sense 004a right?”, Kai said and they looked at him.

“Yeah, but that was 004a. I don’t think I could sense a normal person with the puzzle.”, Yugi replied, before Kamui, Miwa, and Kourin suddenly smiled at the last part.

“Good thing bros no normie then.”, Kamui replied.

“What?”, Yugi questioned.

“Remember what I told you and the others Yugi. Sendou Aichi is 003v.”, Kai reminded Yugi who then gasped.

“That’s right! Okay, I think I might be able to help then. Though, I will warn you I don’t really know how to use this thing.”, Yugi replied as she gestured his necklace much to the others' confusion.

In Kanto…

They went back to Solomon’s small game shop and waited while Yugi went to get his friends to help out. He came back into the game shop with Jonouchi, Anzu, and Honda.

“These are my friends. They can offer some extra help if things get dicey while we look for Aichi.”, Yugi said.

“I’m Katsuya Jonouchi. Nice to meet ya.”, Jonouchi introduced.

“I am Hiroto Honda. What Jonouchi said.”, Honda introduced waving at them.

“I am Mazaki Anzu. It’s a honor.”, Anzu introduced politely with a light bow.

“I am Tokura Misaki. I am the psychic type gym leader of the Kakusa region.”, Misaki replied.

“I’m the whirlwind fighter with 8 gym badges! The great Katsuragi Kamui!”, Kamui introduced himself boastfully puffing out his chest.

“I like this kids style.”, Jonouchi commented with a grin as the others with him sweat dropped.

“Not another Jonouchi…”, Honda grumbled, rubbing his temples.

“What’s that supposed to mean Honda?!”, Jonouchi question, putting Honda into a headlock.

“Does he even need to say it?”, Anzu questioned with a chuckle.

“I’m Taishi Miwa. Nice to meet you.”, Miwa introduced.

“Kourin.”, Kourin introduced simply.

“Okay, now let’s see…”, Yugi said as he sat down and put his hands over his necklace much to the Kakusans' confusion.

“You sense anything, Yami? Someone like 004a?”, Yugi thought.

The ghost? Now known as Yami closed his eyes focusing. A golden eye symbol eerily similar to the one that the rare hunter had glowed on his forehead.

Yami felt a malicious searing heat not too far away which worried him a bit. The aura felt wild and untamed like it would lash out at anyone that crossed it.

“004a...that’s not him. He’s worryingly close to here, I think he’s in Johto. I don’t know if he’ll attack.”, Yami thought as he focused more.

Yami then felt an aura that felt like a powerful maelstrom near Galar. It cackled thunderously full of power and pride. It was like an unrelenting tide.

Then another in some place he wasn’t really familiar with. It seemed very faint like the person was deliberately trying to hide themselves. It was too faint for him to really make out.

Though, a commonality that he felt in all the auras was a supreme darkness that they all carried on them restricting them like invisible collars. There was one that was different very different. He thinks he’s felt it once when that mysterious blast of energy flashed through the Kanto region purifying the corrupted Pokémon. It carried darkness sure, but everyone did in some capacity. The darkness within him was like the leash-like darkness of the others. However despite that the aura was still full of light and warmth. It shined like the sun giving life to those around it, but still dangerous in its own right. Though, the danger it posed wasn’t exactly intentional. The aura was in…

Yami froze, actually recognizing where the aura was and raised his eyebrow in surprise.

“Uhh...why is he just sitting there?”, Kamui questioned.

“Perhaps he’s like a psychic or something?”, Miwa questioned.

“Not exactly...but sort of…”, Anzu replied, not sounding sure of what he was herself.

“Is something wrong, Yami?”, Yugi asked.

1 note · View note

ohpretty-baby · 5 years ago

Text

bts as my sophomore class teachers

a thread because i miss my teachers lowkey

anyways enjoy <3

first hour: ap seminar with kim namjoon

super philosophical

is a fanboy for rosseau, calls him the original gangster

intimidatingly intelligent; like reads 3 books in one day and writes two papers on them intelligent

constantly connecting foundational thinkers/texts to real life situations (ex: echo and narcissus and selfies in social media)

makes you feel like a bad person by questioning your moral motives

there’s never a dull day in his class

seriously

one time we spent the hour evaluating billie eilish’s bad boy and that one “sweet but psycho” song and talked about double consciousness

the next day we did a full 180 and talked about mass burials

then we talked about the refugee crisis the day after that

extremely thought provoking conversations

gives you independence, which is a double edged sword because everyone in ap sem procrastinates

wants students to exceed not only in his class but also outside of school

my irl ap sem teacher helped me figure out that i wanted to go into a career of law !

also an extensive librarian (hence the ability to read 3 books in one day)

if you have the slight interest in something, he has a book for it

i literally have 8 books checked out from my school library because of him

gives you complete and honest ratings of r rated movies and posts them on your schoology board

not afraid to be scandalous

“now everyone say it with me: premarital sex!”

that was something my irl teacher said, that day we shouted out premarital sex about 15 times with the door wide open

amazing music taste

literally

he listens to anything and everything, from french rap to spanish pop and then english folk songs

will dj for your graduation party for free

second hour: honors english with min yoongi

insanely calm, probably just very sleepy

easy going, chill

you really don’t feel pressured in his class

people goof off in class and are generally very annoying, but he doesn’t care

occasionally lectures students if he really needs to

communicates what we have to do and then lets us do the work

lets us fail if we’re not responsible

but will understand if you can’t turn in a project if life gets in the way

i still have a project i need to turn in oops-

i haven’t received any negative repercussions tho

lets kids eat in his class and lets them go to the vending machine if they have no food

i go to my locker every morning to get food to eat

eats with us

lets you use your phone and watch netflix

will even ask you what show you’re watching and if it’s good

actually a really good teacher if you pay attention in his class

kids just think they can slack off, they end up failing tho so it’s really none of his issues

for some reason he’s a substitute teacher for a lot of classes

when he subs, the classes are extremely fun

one time i spent my whole sixth hour talking to him about my costar and astrology

goofs off with the kids

that same day he subbed, my friends were making panoramas of each other and he rated all of them

isn’t strict

cares about his students and is very easy to talk to

because of this a lot of students open up to him

isn’t a snitch

would willingly make fun of classic literature with you

third hour: honors chemistry with kim taehyung

Super Sassy

always gets the last word when students mess around with him

“what’s your favorite double replacement reaction?”

“my favorite ones are the ones you guys get right; so none”

as you can guess, students love having conversation with him

probably has a dope ass instagram but damnit he won’t let accept anyone’s follow requests

probably because that’s illegal

constant Bad BItch energy

will openly tell students they are annoying without shame

will also openly tell you that you are dumb

once i thought that we had four principals (one for each grade, don’t question it) and my irl teacher was speechless,, like she couldn’t actually say anything at my stupidity

i would willingly sell my soul for my chemistry teacher

always has labs to do, even if they’re not very helpful at times

lets students retake tests by creating a new test

but they’re actually harder than the actual test

students skip their own classes to visit him

i always skip my 6th hour to go into the chemistry

constantly has to chase away students

actually very sweet and cares about students, but is never really a push over

again, a constant Bad Bitch

fourth hour: honors spanish with kim seokjin

an even Bigger Bad Bitch

super fun and sassy

fiestas!!!!!!!

we have fiestas but literally the only Spanish thing we have is chips and salsa and tacos

i’m not kidding

people just bring in cake pops and brownies

will sometimes teach a whole lesson in Spanish just to fuck with us

will also try to hold a conversation with us in Spanish just to fuck with us even more

loves seeing our shocked and confused faces when can’t answer his questions

actually teaches us

gives a lot of busy work but i honestly think that’s the better ways of learning and practicing Spanish, so there’s no complaints

engaging lessons, encourages us to make mistakes so we can be comfortable with the language

veryyyy helpful with pronunciation, makes sure that we know how to pronounce certain words

super trustworthy

once after school i spilled tea with my irl spanish teacher about a messy breakup i had gone thru, it was real fun

we have a theory that one of the senior teachers has a crush on her because he always visits her when he comes to our class

really good teacher but heavily overestimates our ability

especially when it comes to tests

but will admit his wrongs when we don’t do well in class

literally the best friend you wish you had

fifth hour: ap world with jeon jungkook

literally really pretty

really funny and sweet but his class is hard

not because of the extensive work and the fast pace, but because he doesn’t prepare students enough for saqs, dbqs, leqs, etc.

we still love our ap world teacher bc she genuinely cares about us

teaches an ap class but has never taken an ap class in high school

still teaches even tho he’s sick and his own students have asked him to stay at home so he can feel better

really fun discussion activities, like fishbowls

always drinking tea with a cool ass mug that has all the presidents of the united states on it

wears really cute clothes and coordinates colors

but sometimes will just pull up in pajamas

either way he’s Stylin

makes sure that students know that he doesn’t believe in racism and communism

always tells his students to take care when they say goodbye

draws LOTS of smiley faces

sometimes more confused about the content then the students are

but genuinely kind and hard working, even if it takes him 3 months to grade papers

sixth hour: theology with jung hoseok

confusing lectures

will talk about persecution in rome and then switch the topic onto blts (yes, the sandwich) and then talk about male circumcision

really goofy

deaf

talks very loudly because he takes his hearing aid out during lessons

honestly a really confusing teacher

a lot of people don’t like his teaching style, and neither do i, but it’s not a hard class so there’s really nothing to complain about

you really just need to read the slides in his class to pass

gives out homework but never grades it

i never turn in homework,,,

i get a’s on his test and he just gives good grades for every homework assignment

honestly just really sweet and funny even when he tries not to

talks with his hands way too much

will take selfies with you if you let him

constantly asking for validation from his students

“is my teaching style ok? i know it can be confusing but i really try with making lectures funny so you guys won’t be bored”

can sometimes be annoying but everyone loves him because he just doesn’t make sense

literally the best class to do other homework in

sees students as his friends

once we had a public discussion online about our concerns of the coronavirus instead of actually learning about theology

i said that i was worried that i’d die of the coronavirus before i got a boyfriend

he replied to my comment saying “1. you are killing me ! :) 2. i’m sure that you have a lot of secret admirers, so the boyfriend thing is covered, they just need to figure things out. remember maturity happens at different stages for everyone.”

even though i don’t like his class at times, i know i’m gonna miss how crazy he is

seventh hour: honors geometry with park jimin

Sweetest, Softest, Most Pure of all

gives out candy during tests

but not just any candy

the really good strawberry candies that grandmas always have and never run out of

sometimes the lessons go by too fast but yet too slow at the same time

a Literal Grandpa

doesn’t let kids say “shut up” or “dumb” in his class

claims that he doesn’t even say “shut up” to his own kids

always reminds kids that this is a No Judgement Zone

rewards students who answer challenging questions with little stand-up signs that say “Expert at Work” or “Rockstar” that they can put on their desk

will buy or make little stockings that spell out the initials of the high school

brags about his kohl’s cash

once bought a $50 scooter for only $5 dollars because of his kohl’s cash

stays after school for two hours to reteach lessons to students

takes little strolls around the school building with his friends during lunch

Mental Math Mondays

mondays are when we play mental math card games with the whole class

lets kids make their own card games

will ask if you’re okay if you look sad

will also ask if you’re okay if you look sleepy

asks kids to be patient with him when they have a confusing lesson to teach

wIll thoroughly explain everything to the best of his ability

definitely has never done anything wrong

this made me genuinely miss my teachers even though i hate school with my whole entire heart, soul, and mind! anyways love u guys

#thread #appreciation #bts #bts taehyung #bts namjoon #bts seokjin #bts yoongi #bts hoseok #bts jungkook #bts jimin #bangtan #bts thread #bts as teachers #bts appreciation

16 notes · View notes

playunderground · 5 years ago

Text

Introducing OVERSOUL: An Interview with Derrick Saladino

Last month, I had the pleasure of sitting down with Derrick Saladino to talk about his brand, OVERSOUL. When he pitched OVERSOUL to me in his initial email, he described it as “a lifestyle brand created from identity crisis,” and that “counterculture/subcultures like anime, gamer, emo-punk, euro-techno, and underground hiphop/b-boy culture heavily influence the brand’s creative direction.” I stared hard at the first two influences, and then stared not-as-hard at the rest of the influences, wondering how these various subcultures could overlap.

My brain being comprised of worms and dirt, I assumed that the anime and gamer influences meant that the designs were going to look like Bart Drinking Lean or Sasuke Wearing Supreme. (In other words, a caricature of anime-inspired Instagram ad streetwear.) This assumption changed quickly after taking a look at OVERSOUL’s site. Their first collection, ISEKAI, is comprised of three pieces. The logo tee and hoodie both look great, but the third piece was what really caught my attention: it’s a button-down tee adorned with daggers. At a glance, it looks nothing like anime- or gaming-inspired clothing. This was the point at which I snapped out of my irony-poisoned haze; the world of memeified, ironic-but-not-quite-ironic hentai tees and Goku Smoking Weed edits had calcified my expectations of what forms of inspiration a brand could and couldn’t pull.

It makes sense in the context of the rest of his influences and the ethos that he operates under – to get ahead of myself for a second, Derrick had this to say of his interest in various countercultures:

"When people express their passions or life to a certain degree, it just pulls me in. It’s like, ‘Okay, I don’t know what the fuck it is, but show me. Let me indulge.’ That’s really how I get into things."

In talking to Derrick, on and off the record, I saw a talented designer who was unapologetic about what he was interested in and passionate about. He’s also a huge geek that runs a bi-weekly Smash tournament at a local nightclub.

(This interview has been edited for length and clarity.)

"Okay, wait, first and foremost, my name is Derrick Saladino and I am a fucking gamer. Before being a designer or anything, I am a fucking gamer. "

Daniel: What is OVERSOUL?

Derrick: OVERSOUL is about identity crisis. It’s my experience dealing with that personally. Growing up, I never really fit in to particular popular groups. Every time I would attempt to make new friends, I would stumble upon the randomest shit: anime culture, gamer culture, I’d end up becoming friends with a lot of emo-punk kids, techno. Nothing that I fell into was mainstream, popular culture. It was a lot to do with being lonely and trying to make friends. With OVERSOUL, thinking about all that kind of shit, dealing with identity crisis – obviously there’s a lot of people who’ve been through that – I want to create a new identity or community of people who share similar values and, you know, take pride in it?

I mean, even the name, OVERSOUL, I ripped the word from this really old anime that I used to watch growing up, Shaman King.

Shaman King? What the hell, like 4Kids shit?

Yeah. That wasn’t the first anime that I ever watched, but it was something that I was really into. From being like 12 to even later in my high school, I just loved it. The concept was so cool – taking a soul and imbuing it in an object to make it powerful. It just looked fuckin’ sick. When people wear my clothes, I want them to feel empowered. That’s how I want people to see it. Soul being clothing, putting it on yourself, there you go.

Spirit Integration is, I don’t think the tagline to the brand, but it’s also part of it. Spirit Integration is mind, body, and spirit, and for anyone into the spiritual side of life, that’s what makes us. Our thoughts and mind and DNA – that makes us who we are.

When I read the description on your site, I noted that you referred to OVERSOUL as not just a startup streetwear thing or a brand, but a conceptual design experience. What does this encompass, and why did you pick this specific wording?

None of the stuff I make or have made in the past is very conventional. It’s been pretty avant-garde, I would say. I’ll have an idea, and regardless of whatever trend is going on right now, I just fucking do it. When I make clothes, I’m not making clothes for the public, really. My mentality is more like, “You know what would be sick in a game? If the costume looked like this.” That’s why I say it’s a conceptual design experience.

Has being involved in the industry and working behind the scenes affected how you understand your own brand after launching? What about how you understand customers and other brands, now that you know what the design process is like?

First-off, let me just back up and go over a history of what I did before OVERSOUL. In high school, I made clothing because I hated what everyone else was wearing. This was 2011-2013. During that time, that’s when I had a brand and brands like Obey, Diamond Supply, and The Hundreds – literally peak Tumblr hypebeast, Zumiez, starter pack shit – were around. I looked around at everyone else and was like, “I can’t click that, it’s not resonating with me.” I had two other brands after that, and then came OVERSOUL. So I have this history of kind of knowing the market, even being a consumer, and evolving as a businessman and designer. I don’t think anything has changed. I think I’ve always stayed true to doing my own shit, rather than trying to compete with everybody else. Don’t get me wrong, I’ll notice what other designers are doing and some things I’ll take note of or inspo from but I hardly think about other people, to be honest. I respect everyone’s hustle, I just can’t be doing the same shit.

Give me your top 3 video game fits.

Top 3, oh my god. Snake from Metal Gear Solid V – very techwear, utility as fuck. My previous brand before this was techwear, and I had to stop it because techwear is so hard to sell.

I’m really into draping fashion. Cloud, Final Fantasy VII, it was the movie Advent Children – you play Smash, right? There’s two costumes in there: the black, and like this, not really skirt, but it covers up somewhat? All-black, huge sash going on, it reminded me of Yohji Yamamoto.

Something that I’m going to make in the future is inspired by Naoto from Blazblue. His outfit, I looked at it and I was like, “Yo, this could be fucking, like Chrome Hearts, like what the fuck? I’m just gonna abuse this character design, it looks amazing.” I think that fashion right now, what really gets people’s attention on social media, is just some crazy shit, I don’t mean dumb shit, but like, just has to be very bold, and I think that’s what Naoto’s character design is. His pants have this huge cross on them. I think that’s one of the most crazy things I’ve seen in awhile.

Let’s talk about Anime-den! It’s this thing that we started roughly 5 months ago. One of my best friends here, he actually works at Fortune [Sound Club, a nightclub in Chinatown], and he’s a music producer. We really bonded over clothes, anime and gaming, and we had this idea – I think we were just high as fuck one day – and I’m like, “Yo, you know what would be fucking dope? If we brought weeb shit into the club.” I think he was just joking around, but he was like, “That would be really fun to set up, we can do it.”

[Weeb being short for weaboo, a pejorative term referring to those obsessed with Japanese culture to the point of fetishization and idolization. It’s been ‘reclaimed’ by some fans of anime, used ironically as a form of self-deprecation.]

So, the next day happens, we’re talking, and he asks me, “Do you actually wanna do it?”, taking it seriously. I’m astonished. I was fucking joking, you know? We were just some high guys. He pitches the idea to Fortune and they approve it. At this point, we’re like, “Okay, we gotta actually invest all our effort into this,” because we’re actually gonna do something that I personally haven’t seen anybody do before – bringing a game into a club, anime into the club.

It’s really cool. Just yesterday, the commentator from Vancouver Street Battle came to Anime-den. Pride? He commentated for Battle of BC 3 and Pinnacle. He has ties with Animebae, too. [Animebae is a local anime-inspired startup streetwear brand.] Who would’ve thought that this guy would come through? And he brought his friends. He was telling us that what we’re doing is sick, and hearing this from a guy of that calibre in the gaming or Smash community, it really shook us. We’re actually bringing in people who play the game seriously here.

How has setting it in a club made it different from other tournaments that you’ve been to? How does the dynamic change?

It’s a little different because when it comes to actual competitive events, people have a different mentality when they enter. They’re there to win and they practice hard for it. As for Anime-den, it’s the total opposite. It’s very casual, we’re all just drinking, blazing, whatever. It’s just the environment where, you know, dim light in a club, there’s music going on in the back –I guess to some gamers it can seem distracting? But I think people, they don’t care. They just play. They’re just there to have fun. Totally different dynamic from an actual event.

I think that the purpose of Anime-den is to bring people together. That’s literally what Anime-den is for.

Yeah, I just noted here that I think it’s consistent with your brand, in that you’re translating the intangibility of these digital spaces like anime and gaming that people bond over, and you’re putting it into a physical space and letting people actually further develop what these subcultures would look like in person. Like, when you think of anime or gaming in real life you think of Anime Expo or cosplaying or some shit – and that’s fine, people have fun with that [Editor’s note – I think it’s fun!] – but it’s not the only mode of expression. With events like this, I think it’s cool that you’re saying, “If you’re a gamer, there’s another avenue for you. You don’t have to dress up or anything…”

I mean, walking in today and meeting you, you wouldn’t have gotten the idea that I was super into anime or gaming. I just look like a regular dude, right? And my clothing gets inspired by it, but I don’t really look like I’m cut from the legit anime cloth. Choosing these lifestyles and putting it into this real aspect, I think it can appeal to everybody. People tend to judge a lot of things, but once you step into the Anime-den room, whatever perspective you have about anime to begin with, I’m pretty sure that changes. Man, the crowd, they look all the same as you do too. We’re all normal people, we just like cool shit.

I think we should talk about ISEKAI.

OVERSOUL’s first small collection was ISEKAI. Translated to English, it would be ‘a better world,’ and I named it that based off of the anime genre, isekai. When you watch these sort of things, it’s usually someone going to another world. For my first collection, I wanted to welcome people to my world. That’s why I chose ISEKAI. One of the big graphics for the brand was the blade shirt. [On the site, it’s name is the Beginners Dagger Shirt.] My reference for that was playing MMORPGs. Typically, the first weapon you get [in MMORPGs] is a short sword or dagger. I wanted to be like, “This is the start of my brand.” This is your starter item. It’s funny, when I tell people this – they’re always like, “I never thought…”

[laughs] It’s really cool!

That’s why I went with ISEKAI. This is what my world is. One of OVERSOUL’s long-term goals is actually establishing ‘my world,’ if that makes sense? There’s only a handful of designers who have, like, captured a signature silhouette. For example, Rick Owens. When you see [a Rick Owens piece], you know it’s Rick Owens. If Zara did the same shit as Rick Owens, you would look at it and be like, “That’s Rick Owens.” You wouldn't call it Zara. That’s what I’m trying to establish for myself, to create that silhouette for myself eventually in the future.

What’s up next for OVERSOUL?

Hmm, how should I put this... should I leak something? I’m going to drop an accessories part sometime soon. That’s in the design process right now, but I’m looking forward to doing my next big collection.

There’s this one song that I found in the past during my peak weeb days: Plastic Love by Mariya Takeuchi. A couple of months ago, they released the first official music video for it, after like 35 years, which is fucking insane – they should have done that a long time ago. I totally forgot about the song until I saw the music video. It’s something that I could relate to before and can relate to now, and I definitely want to build my next collection based on Plastic Love.

I think Plastic Love works really well because I’m surrounded by that scene in Vancouver – I work in Yaletown, and that’s the Yaletown lifestyle. It’s very lustful, but you don’t care. It’s all fake shit, really. That’s what Yaletown culture sorta is. I wouldn’t say that I’m like that, but I think that I could definitely expand on the topic through my brand. It’s not necessarily identity crisis, but the genre and artist kind of make it a subculture.

There’s also a few collabs on the way. One with a music group, another with a tattoo artist. What I really wanna do with the tattoo artist – he does anime tattoos – is ero art. Like, erotica. I think it’s a slept-on art style. It’s not generally for the public, per se, so I think that it would be something worth making. Super ecchi, maybe line art. I want it very exaggerated, even bondage-type shit.

There’s a lot of things where people are like, “Oh, that’s too much!” But you know what, it could be sick! This is why I do things solely for myself. As long as I get a reaction from somebody, I’m happy with that. Wanting a response, not even approval, just being acknowledged, that this shit exists, it motivates me to keep doing what I do.

I thought about doing graphic design shit; anime erotica art goes really well with techno. That kind of scene, the way that European style posters are, if you take the art and fuse them together, it works really well. I’m like, “How come no one has done this yet?”

So you’re treating it more like art and not just a part of anime culture?

I view anime as its own respective art, and with art, there’s no rules, so I can just take this and this, and bang. At the end of the day, everybody wants to see new and cool things. People are always going to have their own subjective opinions, but as long as you have their attention, you’ve already won the battle. That’s the mentality that I carry, that everyone has their own opinions.

Last question: what are your top 5 video games?

You know, I was trying to prepare for this interview – I didn’t even think this would come up.

[laughs] Come on, man.

I’m gonna put Super Smash Bros. Melee on there – I’ve been playing it for so long, it’s literally been bonded with my DNA.

I don’t wanna say Ocarina of Time, because I think that it’s everyone’s favourite, but I mean, it’s still up there. It’s an all-time masterpiece, but I enjoyed Majora’s Mask a lot more. The concept of the world being blown up by the moon, in-game time, the moon crashes in like 3 days, and you keep going back in time, skipping whatever, I think it was so much fun, so yeah.

I really like Fire Emblem: Three Houses. It’s very recent, but I have so many hours on it already, and I can’t stop. I haven’t felt this way about a game in a long time. It’s so replayable. Once you finish Ocarina of Time, you probably don’t touch it for a while. When you play FE, you’re like, okay, let’s do the next one. There’s three houses! Even after doing all three, it’s like, “Oh, I’m gonna try again, but I’m gonna make this character like this.”

I grew up playing a lot of Roller Coaster Tycoon, unfortunately, but it’s fun. It’s not a typical gamer thing, but I love it.

I might put Final Fantasy VII on there, too – when Aerith died, I real-life teared up, like, “Dude, no way, you’re really gonna kill her off like that? You gotta save her!”… and then she dies. I’m pretty sure after that happened, I didn’t touch the game for a week. I was actually emotionally harmed. I’m really into RPGs – being able to emotionally attach yourself to characters, I think it’s a beautiful thing.

Any last things you wanna say?

I want my brand comparable to Chrome Hearts, MISBHV or Rude [Vogue]; when they have their own aesthetic and that’s what they do, that’s what I want to build as well. The idea that I take a lot of inspiration from gaming, it really shows.

Maybe I’m hungover, so I can’t really find the words right now, but for anyone trying to do fashion, music, whatever, as saturated as the community seems at the moment, you just have to get your foot in the door and start. Yeah, there’s competition, but to be honest, with all the people here who have brands, I’m friends with all of the people who make them, and I have no judgement about if their clothes are wack or not. Some things I don’t agree with, but everyone’s on the same hustle.

OVERSOUL’s ISEKAI collection is available now online at oversoul.online.

#oversoul #anime #gaming

2 notes · View notes

lotusdiscussthis · 6 years ago

Note

I know you posted a while ago about how Shuichi never gives Kokichi a chance and just writes him off, but I do understand him (Shuichi), maybe because I also have anxiety, but I know people who act like Kokichi does in real life, and while they seem cool in fiction, they’re toxic, tiring, and frustrating to be around in real life, especially for someone with major anxiety. Just food for thought.

Haha, I only just made that post the other day. It’s not like I wasn’t expecting this sort of response. Though I’m afraid the specific food you are feeding to me isn’t something I haven’t already considered numerous times before. Given how the narrative has played out, of course people who’ve played V3 would think the same way about both characters initially.

Saihara = Every man/Sensitive Cinnamonroll.

Ouma = Complex individual/Troublemaking D-bag.

Both of them just seem to fall on either one of the two categories by the majority of the fandom.

But y’see, what you’ve just said about one character being too toxic to be around and one being the anxiety baby is exactly what’s seriously wrong with how the story is woven. I have an issue with Saihara because he’s portrayed as a sensitive kind soul that has anxiety and depression. And it’s due to those aspects of his character, the characters and the narrative itself are just using that as an excuse to make you overlook his major faults. And the worst fault of his is… he just sucks as a detective, no matter how you look at it. All that talk about him being scared of revealing the truth and all the crying he does, is nothing but pathos when you look back on it. Pathos that make you go “Oh well, what happened to Kaede wasn’t his fault.”,…except that it totally was his fault in the end. At least 50% of it was. And it still baffles me to this day how blasé Saihara’s reaction was when finding out that Kaede was not Rantaro’s killer. For a guy that was sunken deep into his own insecurities and depression in Chapter 2, and how personally worried he was about whether or not he could’ve done something to save Kaede, he didn’t take that discovery as hard as one would think.

Anyone in his shoes would be all like, “OH GOD, HOW COULD I BE SO STUPID! I SCREWED UP! I SCREWED UP BAD-”… but no. Instead he’s like “HERE I COME TO SAVE THE DAY” and put ALL of the blame onto Monokuma and the game itself. Like,… how? This isn’t something that you just … get over instantly. And before you claim it as part of Kaito’s training or whatever, this sort of discovery would be DEVASTATING for a detective and as someone who supposedly cared for Kaede as much as he did. And yet Saihara didn’t even take a second to self-reflect on this or even go “I screwed up… but I’ll make it right”. NOPE. All on Monokuma.

That seems a bit too heavily inconsistent, seeing as we were already aware of his own personal values, his attachment to Kaede and his worst fears when playing as him.

Look, I have issues too, but using that as a means to overlook your own hypocrisy, selective-ness and your inability to take charge by yourself is just wrong. And yet, that’s all Saihara’s been doing.

But before I get too deep into the subject of empathy between player and characters, I think the most important thing to take into account when analyzing DRV3 is that you have to separate your own personal feelings from the game and actually *see* how the personalities and behavior patterns of Ouma and Saihara pertain to the story as a whole.

Let’s start by using the near end of Chapter 1 for example.

When Kaede was voted as the killer, Saihara went against his detective work in finding the mastermind and told everyone that “there was no mastermind”. Which is dumb. Whether the mastermind was actually related to the hidden room or not was yet to be determined, because they never actually went inside the door and find out what the purpose for it was. The door exists for a reason, but the mystery behind it was put on the back burner because of Saihara’s painful trauma over Kaede. Because of HIS pain, he decided from then onwards not to check the hidden door again. 9 dead students later, Kiibo went full war-mode and blew up the entrance and DA-DA-DAAAA! THE HIDDEN ROOM APPARENTLY HAD A PURPOSE AFTER ALL. Go figure, right?

Do you see the issue in only focusing on the protagonist’s emotions and nothing else? Because the game was clearly going for the “weak-boy-becomes-strong” character arc and had constantly reminded us of how insecure he feels, we were compelled to only listen to his inner turmoil and ignore the fact that he’s not doing anything useful in his freetime until someone gets killed. And when we’re not too busy on focusing on Saihara’s pain, we’d be focusing on Himiko’s. And if not Himiko, we put the focus onto Maki. Those who didn’t get enough attention just didn’t have a snowball’s chance in hell to survive V3.

The fact of the matter is, V3 was heavily centered on the emotions of the three survivors than anything else. And because of that, we were forced to look at certain characters (such as Ouma and Angie) that even *dared* to actually put effort into stopping the killing game as the problematic troublemakers while the supposed good guys just get away with doing nothing to help the situation themselves until the finale.

You know who didn’t give up on the idea that there was a mastermind after Chapter 1?

That’s right. Not Saihara. Ouma. As I’ve said before, Ouma knew full well that the mastermind was monitoring them and also knew that there was a traitor within the group. It’s not that he’s a paranoid boy who couldn’t trust anyone, it’s because he’s incredibly cautious and has adapted to dangerous circumstances like the killing game before and knew how to avoid trouble. (Say it with me now, HE. IS. NOT. A. CLOWN. OR. PRANKSTER)

You say that Ouma was too toxic to be around Saihara, but Saihara didn’t have any issue hanging around Maki at all. The chick who promised not to kill anymore, but was still insulting Saihara a lot. She then broke her promise by going behind everyone’s back to kill Ouma, only to have that plan backfire badly, berated Saihara while secretly planned to sacrifice him and the rest of the class to get her payback against Ouma. Even after all of that, Saihara forgave her, ignored all the backstabbing she did and still saw her as a friend. That’s just… wow.

So why is Ouma a jerk, you wonder? Because when Ouma was saying that he wants to ENJOY the game, it’s because behaving like a twisted sicko would get you far in this twisted, sick game. Getting too buddy buddy and acting like you want to stop the game for even a moment would prove to be hazardous to your safety.

If the incident with Kaede has proven anything, being openly defiant against the game and acting self-righteous in front Monokuma would only paint you as a nuisance, thus making you a target. That’s why in Chapter 5, he told Kaito he had to *lie* to himself that he enjoys the game, so the person behind Monokuma wouldn’t kill him. And it’s not enough to just play it up in front of the Nanokumas, he had to be consistently twisted and evil so nobody would catch wind of it. And he had to be selective in finding allies, such as Gonta and Miu, because those two were the most valuable people within the group that wouldn’t carelessly disregard everything he says.

I think I’ve explained enough. I dragged this longer than necessary. I’ve explained how Saihara and Ouma’s behaviors have impacted the story. I hope this answer will suffice. Having to get too sucked into the emotions of the survivors can be fatal when not paying attention to the other elements of the story.

#{answered}#{replied}#{anon}#{analyses}#{opinions}#{thoughts}#{personal}#Kokichi Ouma #Kokichi Oma #Checkers #Shuichi Saihara #Kaede Akamatsu #{salt}#Danganronpa v3 killing harmony #NDRV3 #DRV3

46 notes · View notes

salavante · 6 years ago

Note

for the OC tag thing: the Helmsman!

Cat’s out the bag so here’s The Helmsman featured with his real name!

Full Name: Yawg-Ecthylion, The Helmsman, God of The Void

Gender and Sexuality: Male and eh I dunno, I’ve never thought about it, but his two romantic entanglements have been with women.

Pronouns: He/Him but I don’t think he’d turn his nose up at they/them, I think he sees himself as existing outside of human constructs of that kind of thing. He’s not really even organic.

Ethnicity/Species: Threnghelleon Deity

Birthplace and Birthdate: Hah ok, here’s a funfact that I’ll probably talk about later in something specifically about them, and that I think I talked about with Ethem-Cailo. All of the OG Threnghelleon gods were made by Jovix-Diocunigast’s experiences. There was awhile where whenever Dio had a new thought or action, a new god would spin into being. The Helmsman was created when Dio first conceptualized ‘nothingness’. I think there’s a little more to it than that, but that ball might be in my Co-DM’s court.

Guilty Pleasures: The Helmsman is cruel, bitter and sadistic, and enjoys inflicting pain on things. I think one can extract a lot from that alone. Before the hunt, he had spent most of his several millennia long life almost completely isolated, hunting eldritch abominations at the bottom of Threnghelleon’s icy ocean, which has informed a lot of his decision making in how he fights and sees his opponents. Wearing down large enemies slowly, making use of what’s left of the carcass - that’s The Helmsman’s game. Which is really a roundabout way of saying that he basically tortures his opponents and then takes trophies or makes scrimshaws, leather-working pieces, etc out of the dead gods and mortals that he faces on The Hunt. He likes to step on toes and rattle cages to get reactions out of people. Negative attention is better than no attention, and it’s certainly made him a fan favorite among Threnghelleon’s edgier viewers. I say this as a guilty pleasure because he is not incapable of guilt, and before the hunt, was a fairly honorable, lawful God, if not still violent and creepy. In rare moments of reflection, he wonders how he fell so far, but usually doubles down afterwards. The public and the rest of the pantheon saw him a certain light that gained him attention, and he, starved for any kind of connection to others, leaned heavily into it. He has allowed other people’s perceptions and opinions of him to shape his identity and sense of personhood, which I think is rather tragic, but he likes making belts out of human hair so...

Phobias: It’s hard for me to say what The Helmsman is afraid of because most of his worst fears have come to pass and have made him the bastard coated bastard we know today. Being alone, being forgotten countless times, having his expertise and hard work taken advantage of. Paranoia aimed at Jovix-Diocunigast has turned out to be entirely accurate - Dio felt threatened by how much attention that The Helmsman was getting for defending the realm and killing giant monsters, so Dio effectively cursed him so that no one could remember his name. People began calling him Yawg-Ecthylion less and less, and The Helmsman more and more. Ethem-Awnrah, Goddess of Memory, is the only one who remembered his real name.

What They Would Be Famous For: The Helmsman played pretty much right into Dio’s ploy and turned into a craven, vile weirdo, and the media circus that broadcasts The Hunt loves him for it.

What They Would Get Arrested For: Murder and turning corpses into crafts.

OC You Ship Them With: The Helmsman has had two canonical spouses which have both produced children. His first wife was mortal, a deep-sea marine biologist named Svea who came upon his ship, The Susurrant Phantasm, in her own submarine while researching the fauna surrounding the Mouth of Yawg, Threnghelleon’s entrance into the void/ether/unknown/whatever you’d like to call it. Their union produced The Helmsman’s demigod daughter Yawg-Enyion, who would later take up his mantle of defending the realm with her warfleet while The Helmsman was on The Hunt. However, between her inability to remember his name, and being torn between her own life and her duty as the wife of a deity, the two of them split. Enyion reminds The Helmsman of his ex-wife a bit too much for comfort, and the two of them have a very strained, complicated relationship.

The next one is a little bit of a doozy.

Yawg-Ecthylion and Ethem-Awnrah always kind of had eyes for each other, and were courting before he lost his name and was soft-shunned by the rest of the pantheon. This, naturally, disrupted all of that, and they would not reconnect until The Hunt occurred. In the time between The Circle going on The Hunt and The Helmsman slowly deteriorating into a monstrous douchebag, he and Awnrah clicked again and produced a son: Veth-Rawn, the mysterious god of Psychics. But Sal, you say, in that writeup you made a thousand years ago, didn’t you say that Veth-Rawn had uncertain parentage? Well, that is because The Helmsman being a nasty ass murderous bastard made The Goddess of Memory so incensed that she accidentally wiped all of the universe’s memory of their time together in a fit of passionate rage. This, unfortunately, included Veth-Rawn, leaving the God of Psychics mentally shattered, and forced to grow up utterly alienated by his would-be family, who didn’t know who he was or why he was there. It is only really recently that this came to light, and was one of my endgame plot twists.

If the team beats Dio, The Helmsman will go back to Threnghelleon with his comatose son to heal him and try to make things right with his daughter, Enyion. Awnrah is staying with the hometeam and the other defectors from The Hunt - Geeg, Derog and Wybjorn. I’ll probably touch on her sometime on her own, I’m quite fond of her, and she’s a Good Guy now so she’ll be featuring in post-Godslaughter campaigns.

OC Most Likely To Murder Them: Either Jonquil (his hometeam rival for the game), Jovix-Diocunigast or Jovix-Cailo. Jonquil spent the better part of the game trying to learn how to shove his soul into a diamond and hurl it into space. Jovix-Cailo has hated him for a very long time and enjoyed tormenting him as soon as he got a power bump. And Dio would just turn him into a smear for defecting. Awnrah could also utterly annihilate him if she wasn’t such a decent person, she could crack his psyche open like an egg.

This is where the book/movie section usually goes but I’ll be real with you, I don’t think The Helmsman bothers with either. I think he sees most things of human invention as being kind of beneath him. But he especially hates most artistic interpretations of himself, and has very seldom happened upon one that he feels gives him due diligence.

Talents and/or Powers: The Helmsman honestly has a build that I would LOVE to use as a player character. It hinges largely on stacking DOTs (Damage Over Time) and status afflictions, making him able to whittle down opponents with large health pools as well as get a trickle of HP back to himself. His whaling hooks are called Black Tongue and North Star, and they give him some pretty impressive reach, and the ability to swing large, heavy objects around. He also has a few abilities such as “Where Strides The Behemoth” that gives him heavier damage output when he’s facing an enemy larger than him, and “Like Water”, where he effectively ignore gravity and can move freely through space. His very large peepers are usually squinting, as he is not really accustomed to full light, but in darkness, they open all the way into horrible, near perfect circles. Really, out of all of the Threnghelleon gods, The Helmsman is the most biologically compatible with his environment.

Why Someone Might Love Them: The Helmsman has a very primal, intense quality that I think a certain kind of person could find attractive. For many years, he did a very dirty, thankless job that benefitted all mankind and the pantheon, which is perfectly respectable. He’s fairly witty and is good at banter, and is handy in a fight, a couple of traits that Threnghelleon folk appreciate. I also think his more tragic qualities attract a level of pity that could entice someone to desire becoming closer to him. I dunno, he has magic eyes that see in the dark, some people dig that.

Why Someone Might Hate Them: He stalks/murders/tortures indiscriminately and treats corpses of pretty much anything like someone would treat the corpse of an animal. He does not see the distinction between humanoid person and animal/monster and considers it all free game. He’s mouthy, impatient, cruel and sadistic and has set aflame 10,000 worlds. What’s not to hate.

How They Change: The Helmsman’s arc in the game was the slow-dawning horror of the fact that pretty much all of his current murderous identity has been spoon-fed to him by other people, and he just kind of went along with it because he was weak-willed and desperate for attention. This troubles him pretty deeply and makes him lose his hutzpah towards the end of the game. He does end up defecting from the Hunt to the hometeam to help take down Diocunigast, the guy who cursed him and started his downhill slope. But I really hesitate to say that he’s a Good Guy. He doesn’t feel all that bad about all the people he’s tortured/killed/made into fanny packs, at least not to the degree he should. The Helmsman will still go about his nasty ways when he’s back on Threnghelleon, but will be more judicious about who he kills and how. He’s also resolved to try and repair his relationship with his daughter Enyion, and hopefully heal Veth-Rawn. He has no intention, however, to try and re-initiate a romantic relationship with Ethem-Awnrah, though he still kinda loves her. He knows he FUBAR’d that one.

Why You Love Them: I enjoy villains! His ferocity is cathartic and entertaining and challenging to to the PCs. I genuinely wasn’t sure if he was going to be alive or not by the end of our game. Sometimes it’s fun to just have a downright fucker in the mix. I also like his design, which while not THE most inspired, is a lot of fun to draw. The Helmsman was the first of the Gods that I designed, with Ethem-Cailo being second. Also an internet stranger said he was hot once.

#psygull

6 notes · View notes

ikonislife · 7 years ago

Text

My Professor 6

-Hanbin x Reader (Professor!Hanbin)

-1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7

-It was universally known that friend with benefit between best friends would be a chaotic ride from the start till the heartbreak of either one or both party. No one says anything about being in one with your dear professor…

-Rated M for language, mention of sex (secretly rated B for bullshit 😏)

A/n: Short fillers and some fluff coming at ya. I’m setting up for something big and I hope it’ll all be worth the wait for you guys in the end, that’s all i want, for the series to live up to your expectation (:

“Come in!”

Friend or foe, the question weights heavily on your worn out mind as the bright incandescent assaults your bloodshot eyes with the creaking of the door. A timid greeting left your lips at the sudden realization of just how much time had escaped from your grip and how bothersome this must be for the young professor.

“Hi. I’m sorry for coming by so late. I just was doing homework and there’s this one problem. I didn’t realize how late it had gotten.” Bitting your lips over your half lie. True that you weren’t all aware of the time but truly it was because you had stormed over in a fit of jealousy, homework wasn’t even remotely on your mind.

“No problem at all! After all, if I don’t have a little time for my sister in law then what good am I?!” Cheery albeit the haggardness that had begun to settle over the once impeccable model, three buttons far away from their home and a fourth hanging on for its dear life revealing nearly too much of the smooth skin to be appropriate. The near pushed back hair ruffled and strayed, no doubt a result of his frustration if your judgment is correct after hearing the endless groan of pain during the exam last week.

“PROFESSOR!” You had screamed, an effort to remind him of his careless word only to end in hushes and whispers realizing what you had just done probably brought in way more attention. “You can’t just call me that here? People know me here!”

“Oh and they don’t know me?” lip smacking, his eyes rolling so far back Jiwon near looking possessed before continuing. “Just Jiwon is fine, and everyone else left. Just me and my own poor soul suffering tonight.”

“Ah.”

Bag thrown and body sinking into the barely worn chair, your eyes begin wandering, taking in the sight of the incredible mess so strikingly opposite of your own dear professor. Who would’ve thought for someone whom care so greatly about his own appearance, the state of his living condition is… well abysmal. If the same is to say of his home, you’re feeling quite sorry for whoever it might be to become your future “sister in law” if there is a future where all three of you thrive and flourish together into the old age.

“What brings you to this neck of the wood? Homework you said…” Something in the tone of his voice doesn’t sit well with the herd of butterflies in your gut. Something playful, almost as if you’re just playing a losing cat and mouse game in the way his knowing smirk makes its way onto those lips just before uttering anything related to Hanbin. This mysterious person that your boyfriend seemingly trusted his life to, can he truly be trusted. Ever since the door to his humble office had swung open, there’s just a touch of something you couldn’t quite put your fingers on, like the fog of an early morning - clearly visible yet not quite there at the same time. “… Or is it someone?”

His words striking your attention away from the many things strewn across the small room, your mind near frozen as if he had caught onto it playing detective, gathering hints to further unlock Jiwon’s true character.

“Hmm…”

“So it is someone. Heejin?”

“Who?”

“Geez, Y/n. If you’re going to be rivals, at the least know the opponent’s game.” Damn him and his professor’s intuition and insightfulness.

“Who say there’s even a competition. For there to be rivals and opponents, there must be first a competition. Am I right?” You’re not quite certain if Jiwon is mildly amused or actually impressed with your words by the curve of his lips nor his sharp eyes… but his manner relaxed, leaning right into his chair making it his bitch in the way he so intimately gripping at the armrests.

“Okay, okay. Fair point.” Silent follows yet for reason unknown it wasn’t a sullen break, something inside your heart compels, instill a sense of trust for the man sitting just across the way. “Do you trust him?”

“What?” That question caught you off guard once more in every way possible even if this time, your eyes had been trained on the young professor the entire time. It thrown you off the path because how could a simple sentence, a mere four words uttering so effortlessly could carry an impact is so great it shook your soul.

Do you trust him.

Well, you’d like to think so for how risky the nature of your relationship turned out to be even if your demise would for certain bring about his own. However, never in a million year would you want for the basis of trust between you and the man your heart aches for to be merely one of survival. He has just as much to lose as you are but beyond safety, do you really trust just him.

Would you trust him to hold your hand when you’re facing your worst fear, or even just when you’re getting a flu shot because damn those needles and their scary pointy nature. After a long night of partying, can you trust him to lay you in bed, tuck you in, and kiss you goodnight to only then take his own place beside you without asking for favors in return.

After all, you known the man mere months and have gotten betrayed by others you knew for years. Who to say this Hanbin, the caring gentleman you know is nothing but just a persona put on for show masking away the real him.

“I sense hesitant.” Jiwon speaks up once more, words just as concise and to the point as they had been. You should be more wary of this person seemingly psychic in his thought but it’s absolutely the opposite. You want more out of him, want for him to speak his mind until you’re completely vulnerable and begging for him to stop because maybe then, you’ll finally gain insight into his and Hanbin’s relationship... Ultimately, perhaps you’ll finally stop being in the shadow with your own relationship.

“No, not at all. I just-“

“It’s okay to be hesitant, Y/n. Actually, I expected for you to have a least a few questions. It’s only natural for you to…Strange if you don’t.” The man pauses, thought much too hard to realize into words. “I wouldn’t necessary say concern, perhaps at the least bit curious about his life?”

That all knowing smirk, the uneasiness stirring within your gut is hard to ignore when each of Jiwon’s word striking your heart as if dart to bullseye, no, bullet to target. The small creek that was the difference between yourself and the young professors had suddenly widen into a vast ocean. How could these guys be just a few years older than yourself, mature and wise with wit to match. What is this chill roaming, squeezing itself in between each of the bone in your body. Perhaps their world, this realm completely unknown to a mere average child like yourself is no place to find love… Perhaps you should take a lost. After all, that rumbling deep within your soul reminds you so much of the time you had wandered accidentally into a brand name store that you’d have to sell a kidney and an arm to afford, watching as girls half your age without a second thought near bought half the store. It’s a world you know nothing of, a world you could only admire from afar, and a world perhaps has no place for someone like you. Not that Hanbin and Jiwon somehow is disdainful of your naiveness, nor are they derisive toward your innocence. Rather, you’re just unsure if you should be amongst adults where the word love actually carries weight when you barely could handle a crush.

“I’d lay my life down for that man.” You try, you really try your to decipher the calmness behind his sharp eyes but there’s not much else when the powerful stare convey nothing but honesty. “That much I can say. However, I get it, I get that you barely know the guy for not even half a year with nothing to offer but this…this person, this seemingly great professor you see on campus. So popular, so charming. For all you know, he could be a fuck up that know how to put on a good show.”

“So, would you like some coffee?” Intrigued and definitely interested, your excitement to learn of the life Hanbin holds outside this campus, outside the confine of his own home - about the extent of his outside you know of - has you teetering at the edge of your seat, coffee intended for the tastebud of someone else offered in exchange.

Somewhere in the darken path between his own building and the much younger building where the young physics professor resides, Hanbin wanders, wonders what had kept you from answering his 10 billionth attempt at any sort of attention and lord knows attention is exactly what he craves today. Now he knows in his heart that fear has no place in this web of relationship between you, him, and Jiwon. However, and perhaps by recent event, in the dark corner of his mind there still is a bit of reservation, a reservation that no doubt will ring guilt when he’s no longer delirious from the long day and late night of being entertain by someone he would much rather never had introduced himself to if he could turn back the hands of the clock.

He thinks of your lies again and again only to clutch at his chest when that image of the kid named Hoseok devouring your lips so passionately flashes in his mind like a horror film. Then he thought of those days where both him and Jiwon were young and naive, fresh face and know nothing of the pain of love. It may not look it now but there was a point in time when Hanbin could only look at Jiwon with awe in the way he so effortlessly carry himself, the way he command the crowd just with a flash of his charming smile and raspy voice. Would you too eventually falls for the allure of the man he calls best friend?

Surely not if Hanbin follows his heart but the scene he had just walked into speak otherwise, your laughter so crisp and bright emanating through the dimly lit hallway, tearing away the cold night. A peek into the room reveal a scene Hanbin aren’t quite sure what to think of as Jiwon near sprawl his whole body atop his desk, bicep flexing with your fingers so daintily smoothing over the impressive muscles.

“Am I interrupting something?” Hanbin’s disappointed with himself and the tone his words hold, disappointed that he couldn’t hold his jealousy in no longer and had to do whatever it takes to stop your contact, disappointed that he even feel the need to be jealous in the first place.

“Oh hey. We were talking about Heejin. You know how she always like touches our arms. You know what I’m talking about right, Binnie?”

“Uhm, yea. Doesn’t really explain why my girlfriend needs to touch your arm though.” If this had been an anime, Hanbin’s glare would’ve materialized and no doubt sharp enough to cut off Jiwon’s head. “Say, Y/n, isn’t that my coffee?”

Is it wrong that your heart rejoices with the low growls of jealousy, the way he so possessively breathed out the word “girlfriend” then so softly, as if wanting to be stern but couldn’t in the face of your smile when he addressed your name”.

“Yea, it was. You were occupied so I offered it to Jiwon as an incentive.” Jiwon might be backing down but you sure aren’t, still bitter although you’re not entirely sure why. It’s not as though Hanbin could really control when the wicked witch might ride through on her nasty broomstick.

Taken back by your brazen words perhaps much more than the fact that you had just addressed his best friend by his first name, Hanbin retreat, not wanting much more drama tonight as he had enough to last a good year. A quick goodbye later and you’re shadowing the seemingly fuming man down the faintly lighted hallway as his silent steps grew heavy. Did you crossed the line? You swore with your all to make him happy, to be there yet not even a day later here he is once again sullen.

“Hanbin…” Your heart ache, grasping at your meek voice in the way it came out so small, not dare to add fuel to his fire.

“Yea.” He replied simply.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t know if I, I might’ve been harsh with my words. I know none of it is really your fault.” You’ve gotten used to it, disconnecting yourself from your man even though words of the heart is being spun, to any onlooker, you both simply heading the same direction.

“Sweetheart, stop. I’m not mad if that’s what you’re thinking. I just, I wish it was me you were laughing and joking with. Especially so soon after all that had happened, i just wish it was me” It’s taking his all not to turn around and hug you, just a few feet behind him there you walk, probably slumping and pouting as you do when something is upsetting yet he couldn’t do anything. That hurts more than anything this very second. “When we get home, I’m going to hug you and not let go. The only reason I haven’t yet is, I’m sure as obvious to you as it is me. Don’t mistake necessity for desire, what I want to do and what I am forced to do are two very different things.”

The rest of your walk in silent, you headed to your car while he to his office with nothing else but a faint smile to bid a temporary goodbye. You found yourself jogging, near running back to your car and the backpack heavy with book hastily thrown into the backseat. The old junk rumbling start and sped out to where Hanbin always park, slowly you pull into the empty spot right next to his shining horse, engine stalled as you wait patiently for his arrival. You didn’t know when but it seemed as though your fingers had landed on the mushy playlist full of love songs Hanbin had made even though your choice in music this late of night usually consist of heavy bass and loud guitars to shoo the sandman away.

Wasn't long till your car finding itself screeching a halt in front of that familiar driveway lined with green hedges that quite honestly taken you by surprise the first time you had been to his place. Who knew the ever busy professor actually got time for gardening, a very impressive garden at that flourishing in flower despite the breeze of approaching winter. It makes you wonder how magnificent this place must be in the height of spring. None of that matter now as your eyes lazily travel back to what really matters, Hanbin juggling his many bags and the key to the front door yet that handsome smile of his still bright to greet you.

“Beat me again. I swear, if this whole math thing doesn’t pan out for you, just become a professional racer.” Teasing smile on his lips but no sooner than the familiar beep of the security system sealing both away from the big bad wolves of the world resonates excitement within your chest, his smile already melted into a kiss so desperate you felt your soul being knocked out of your body.

His kiss like waves of summer beach, warm and gentle yet what it does to your heart, the intensity of thousand tsunamis. Lips chapped but you don’t mind as they envelopes yours in an intricate routine of teeth clashing and tongue, resembling that wondrous feeling of digging your toes into the coarse sand, letting yourself sinking into the embrace of the ocean. His hands gentle as the water lapping the shore yet rough in their neediness of feeling the warmth of your skin under his fingertips, skin so smooth and soft just as he remembers, just as he dreamt off for so long. You’re real. No longer will he awaken, body slicked with cold sweat and heavy pants deep seated in his chest because all that was left was the bitter taste of an unsatisfied break up, if he could even called it that. You were so close yet million miles away in the split second he caught your cold, contemptuous gaze in the passing crowd and that should’ve been his cue to stay away, to learn how to be content with a live without you but it only drawn him closer, light a fire under the craving that could only be satisfied with your smile.

“I miss you so much.” Soft words utters against your bruised lips, gentle pants and hot breath fanning a silent that convey all the desire to be alone, to truly be lost within one another. You couldn’t recall the last time you were truly alone with Hanbin, to be completely yourself without the fear of being discover. There’s no word to express just how valuable this moment right this second is to the both of you, heart beating fast for a love barely coming out of its shell like a small sprout signaling better days after a hurricane.

You love him, you truly love this man… And best of all, he loves you just the same.

#ikon #ikon scenarios #ikon hanbin #hanbin #hanbin scenarios #b.i #b.i scenarios

100 notes · View notes

fanaste · 7 years ago

Text

New Years? I’ll Parse.

December 31st 2014 – 11:57pm (three minutes to midnight)

They were fighting. He got that. They’d had a fight, he got that too. But Jesus fucking Christ they’d had lots of fights before. He was familiar with the silent treatment okay? He was. But it’d been weeks. Weeks that had morphed into months and now he’s sitting here staring at his God damn phone at a number he hasn’t seen flash up on his screen since last December.

And maybe because of that someone could say they had officially parted on bad terms but if you’d asked Kent, if you ask him now even he’d tell you they weren’t the worst terms they’d ever parted on. At least Jack was still breathing when Kent left him.

Someone pushes the door to the smoking area open and Kent hears the tantalising notes of the Beyonce song that always makes him think of fucking. It’s about drinking and fucking and she’s on the beach writhing around and if Kent were into women he’d be into that. As it happens he’s not into women. He’s into emotionally unavailable French Canadians with an ego the size of his home country.

“You can’t…you don’t come to my fucking school unannounced-“

“Because you shut me out!”

“And corner me in my room.”

“I’m trying to help-“

“And expect me to do whatever you want-“

He was just trying to help. Kent promised Jack he’d come back for him. Maybe not out loud, not with words Jack could take and keep inside him for cold nights when Jack thought he’d left all possibility of Hockey behind in a sick puddle on the bathroom floor. Jack had to know he hadn’t stayed away because he wanted to. His parents must have told them he’d tried to visit but that Alicia had told him not to come.

“Don’t come Kent. He need to rest. He needs to know there’s life outside of Hockey.”

And like an idiot. Like a newly drafted NHL player idiot he listened.

But he never forgot. How could he?

Jack was the love of his life.

In the background Beyonce sings about being in love. Kent’s in love all right and he’s shit faced. And this song reminds him of frat house hallways and hands groping desperately at a body he hadn’t touched in too long but that felt familiar as his own.

“Fuck Jack! What do you want me to say? That I miss you? I miss you, ok? I miss you.”

He was just trying to fucking help! But Jack was too stubborn, to determined to try and fail on his own and face his father’s rejection like some martyr. And Kent knew he’d hate it, he’d hate it and he’d love it because deep down he wanted it because he felt like he deserved it.

“You always say that.”

In the spaces between his hammering heart beats Kent felt the edges of his longing turn to anger. Why was Jack being like this? Why was he throwing Kent’s help away? Why was he trying to throw Kent away? And on the wave of those questions came more questions like, why hadn’t Jack tried to call? Kent found his fucking body didn’t he remember that? Hadn’t anyone told him? Didn’t he care?!

“You know what Zimmermann? You think you’re too fucked up to care about? That you’re not good enough? Everyone already knows what you are but it’s people like me who still car!”

“Shut up.”

Jack didn’t want his help then fucking fine.

“You’re scared everyone else is going to find out you’re worthless right? Oh don’t worry! Just give it a few seasons Jack trust me!”

“G-get out of my room.”

Heaving in the silence Kent swallowed around the jagged parts of his heart and in the hardest voice he could muster said,

“Fine. Shut me out. Again.”

Truthfully Kent expected to ride out the next few days of the silent treatment, give Jack a chance to calm down, to realise that his pride wasn’t going to get him anywhere fast. Magnanimously Kent gave him a week to sort his shit out before texting,

‘I’m sorry about last weekend. Please consider my offer’.

But all he got was more silence. Silence in January, silence in February and come draft day there was more of the same except this silence was worse because it was screamed all over the sports networks and blogs.

Zimmermann signs with Providence Falconers

Kent skated so hard that day he puked.

Now Kent stands in the smoking area of a club on the strip with too much coke in the air and too much liquor in his body and he’s staring down at his phone and cursing Jack Zimmermann’s name. Sagging against the dirty brick wall he takes a deep breath and with every cell in his body and all the power in his mind he makes a wish. He makes several wishes, actually.

I wish I was happy.

I wish I was stronger.

I wish I didn’t know how to love.

I wish I’d never fallen in love with Jack Zimmermann.

I wish I’d never met Jack Zimmermann.

Something in him shifts anxiously after that last one and his eyes snap open. No. He doesn’t wish that. He doesn’t. He can’t because…because he doesn’t know who he is if a part of him doesn’t love a man he can’t have.

He pulls up Jack’s number again. Sooner or later he’ll see Jack. They’ll face off on the ice and even though they’ll be playing against one another he’ll remember what it was like to play in the Q. He’ll remember that when they played together nothing could beat them. When they hit the ice Kent will look at Jack and Jack will smile and he will know that whatever happened last year doesn’t matter.

Maybe Jack will love him again.

He brings the phone to his ear and listen to the ring.

“You’ve reached the T-Mobile voicemail service for ‘Jack Zimmermann’,” Kent’s heart clenches at the sound of his voice. “This person is unavailable to take your call. Please leave a message after the tone.”

Kent hangs up.

In the background the music stops and a voice, muffled by the thick walls of the exterior, announces. “It’s almost midnight! Countdown with me!”

Ten

Kent brings the phone to his ear again.

Nine

It rings.

Eight

Seven

“You’ve reached the t-mobile voicemail service for ‘Jack Zimmermann’,”

Six

“this person is unavailable to take your call,”

Five

“Please leave a message after the tone.”

Four

Three

Two

One

“Hey it’s- it’s me. Happy New Year.”

December 31st 2015 – 10:55pm

Kent Zips up his pants, fishes his cell out and leans against the stall door. The music is muted in the bathroom but he can’t tell if it’s because it’s any quieter in here or if it’s just the ringing in his ears. Occasionally the hiss of urine hitting porcelain reminds him where he is but soon his focus on the little glowing screen drowns even that out. The little glowing screen all lit up with the sky blues of twitter.

That Bittle kid is tweeting up a storm. He’s back in Samwell for the new year and there’s pictures of him leaning heavily into bodies twice as tall and twice as wide as himself. Not that it’s hard when then guy’s the size of a thimble.

@omgcheckplease @clarissaexplainsitall showin’ bros how it’s done.

Kent’s signal is shitty in here and it takes his phone an agonisingly long time to pull up the picture of Lardo grinning as Holsom and Ranster(???) bow before her. She has a heeled foot on Holsom’s shoulder and her shutter shades, that can hide a look of determination so scary Kent knew he was done for the moment he accepted the pong ball, do nothing to obscure the triumph she exudes.

@omgcheckplease reigning 2016 champion @clarissaexplainsitall

Kent closes the photo and scrolls up and down looking for a tweet, any tweet, that’ll clue him in to what’s going on in Samwell…or more importantly what’s going on with a certain dark haired, blue eyed Canadian.

Kent’s not a fan of Eric’s, not in the least, but he’s become an avid checker of his feed ever since a picture of Jack turned up over the fourth of July weekend. A picture of him looking comfortable in a kitchen straight out of a Southern Homes Style magazine.

They haven’t spoken since the game. They didn’t even speak at the game just exchanged passive aggressive jibes through reporters who resurrected all their old clips from the Q helping Kent to relieve the now excruciating memories of good times playing with a guy Kent thought to call his soul mate.

At the end of the game Kent tried to get hold of Jack but he was long gone. At least Kent got the game winning goal. If there was ever a better fuck you to someone it was a game loss for Jack.

Finally when his finger hurts from swiping and his eyes g smudgy Kent locks his phone and slips it back in his pocket.

A second later a smack on the door makes him jump so hard he nearly topples into the toilet.

“Hey open the fuck up!” A familiar voice bellows.

“We know you’re in there Parson! There’s a shot here with your name on it!”

Kent takes a deep breath and tries to pull himself together. When he opens the door he covers any sign of heartache with a glower at two of his team mates. “What the fuck were you doing in there?” Cray peers curiously past him.

“Making sure they’ve got the right number for your mom on the wall.” Kent retorts summoning the cocky half smile he wears in all he posters and cards he scrawls his signature over after games. All it takes is this quirk and Kent’s untouchable again. The boys follow him across to the sink. There’s no soap and all the taps do is dribble water when he turns them. He can’t believe they charge fifty bucks for tickets to this event and can’t even spring for decent plumbing. If he was a better team captain he’d have sanitiser with him.

Jeff guffaws and Cray flips him off. “Quit hiding like a bitch in here and come join the party. The company got hotter.”

“How,” Kent scoffs, “I was in here.”

Cray gives him a sarcastic little smile, “You think you’re the hottest member of this team huh?”

Jeff ushers them both out of the men’s room.

“I am the hottest member!” Kent shouts over yet another terrible remix of a song he likes.

Cray mimes that he can’t hear him.

Kent rolls his eyes and pushes through the sweaty corridor of bodies that strain their necks to see the three figures heading up to the coveted VIP area. Kent wipes sweat from his brow that he’s not convinced is his with a grimace. He doesn’t want to be here and he’s not drunk enough yet to forget that he hates New Years. It’s the same shit every year. A different party, a different city but it’s always the same vibe. He’s always with people he likes, he always drinks too much and then makes the same promise.

He’s going to live life like he never met Jack Zimmermann.

He’s not drunk enough yet though but luckily for him (or at least as promised by Cray) there are six women dressed in flirty little skirts and tops waiting for them on the leather seats specifically designed to make you feel like you can drink (and snort) as much as you like and it’ll all slide down you and not stain just like the liquor you’ll spill on their wipe clean couches.

Kent takes a deep breath and reinforces the face that makes it look like he’s into this. “Where are the shots?”

Jeff gives him an indecipherable look and situates himself on the bench furthest from the girls. Cray rolls his eyes as if to say ‘whipped’.

One of the girls leaps up, prompted by her friends, and crosses the small space towards him. She’s wearing heels, not that Kent’s looking at her feet, but her tottering is unmistakeable and more prominent still because she’s obviously drunk. “I’m Amber.” She says when they’re within shouting distance.

Kent smiles like his posters. “Hi Amber.”

One hand rises to tuck her hair behind her ear and she smiles coyly down at her chest. It’s dusted with glitter Kent can see it shimmering in the strobes. “You like to party?” she asks withdrawing a little white baggy from her sparkly cleavage. When she looks up Kent thinks her eyes flash black. Kent wonders if this is a sign that he should give up now and just let someone drag him into oblivion the quick way. His eyes snag on the baggy full of shit that gets guys benched Amber shakes in her long fingertips.

He thinks about it. It’s a party. There’s only the team up here. The team and six women who won’t keep quiet about partying with the hottest members of the Las Vegas Aces. Who will regale their friends with very detailed stories, from what they wore to what they took. Time feels suspended as he tries to make his decision but his brain is foggy enough that he quickly bores of his pros and cons list and where he falls on the turns has him nodding faintly.

He’s nowhere near the ice now. “Yeah.” He breathes, “I like to party.”

Amber’s grin is a mirror of his own as she pops open the bag and sprinkles a line across the rise of her left breast. Kent feels like a rapper when he snorts it from her skin and accepts the chaser shot Cray hands him.

He feels like a NHL player.

He feels like the Kent Parson they write about on the blogs.

In the background someone mutters, “Just like Zimmermann.”

December 31st 2015 – 11:30pm

Kent doesn’t know who dragged who but he’s not moving anymore. He’s pressed up against a toilet stall door and whoever it was that was giving him eyes from across the room is now giving him eyes from the floor as they kneel ready to make good on a threat delivered between the dancefloor and the sticky club hall.

I’ll show you a good time.

This isn’t Kent’s first rodeo, he’s made toilet stall fucks into an art form and so he bites down on his lips to smother the embarrassingly loud moan of relief when the guys plump lips wrap around his dick and a hot wet tongue circles the head.

Kent puts out a hand to brace himself on the stall wall behind his kneeled companion. His hips jolt as he shifts and the guy pulls back with a protesting, “Dude.”

“Sorry.” Kent mutters and means it. The guy gives him a sceptical look and Kent would reassure him that he isn’t into forcing strangers to deep throat him if he could find any of the words needed to articulate that and sound genuine. Instead he prompt’s the guy with a “So?” desperate to drown out the droning remix of a Solvig song with the sound of this guy sucking his dick.

Mercifully the guy takes a breath and takes Kent into his mouth again. He knows what he’s doing and when Kent feels the guys other hand cup his balls he thinks that perhaps this could be over before midnight, just in time for Kent to stumble out and say Happy New Year as if he thinks this year is going to be any different from the last. Or the one before that, or any of the ones before his best friend tried to kill himself and cast Kent out of his new post suicide life.

Kent blinks slowly and slower still until a particularly lascivious lap of his friends tongue pushes him far from the bathroom at Midas and back to somewhere they’re not playing terrible remixes of songs he likes. Somewhere the music is something with a bit more twang and completely ill fitting to the Canadian mansion he’s in.

The mouth on his there isn’t hurried or impersonal. It’s slow and loving and a little shy because he’s just seventeen and both of them pretend to know what they’re doing with girls but with each other there’s nothing but honesty, and so when Jack takes him into his mouth it’s with an uncertainty that makes Kent both impatient and fond. Kent reaches out to caress Jack’s cheek, to tell him he feels so good, that his mouth is amazing and that he’s about to come. It’s crude and scripted but he hopes that between the stock phrases they’ve picked up from all those pornos that Jack hears what Kent is really saying.

You’re perfect. I can’t believe you’re doing this for me. I love you.

They never said they loved each other but you didn’t get chemistry on the ice like theirs without heart.

A tug on his dick pulls him from the tentative ministrations of the past and plants him back in the toilet stall of the club he wished he’d never fucking suggested for the night. His hand hovers in mid air paused on it’s way to the strangers face. The guy gives it a sideways look but doesn’t say anything. Instead he pushes his face down and down and down until his nose brushes the hairs at Kent’s groin.

Kent moans.

“You like that?” The guy pants his lips spit slick and eyes glassy from too much fairy dust.

All he can do is nod because his throat is throbbing so hard he feels like he can’t breathe.

“Fuck yeah you do.” The guy smirks moving his tight grip up and down Kent’s flesh. Kent’s belly quivers and his balls tighten between his legs.

Kent can’t remember the guy’s name and it doesn’t matter. It won’t matter when he’s come, it won’t matter when they leave the stall and go back outside to toast another year of fucking around and being fucking miserable and wishing he’d never met Jack fucking Zimmermann and then taking it back because he daren’t risk the wish coming true. Because what excuse would he have for burying his misery in every body he meets at a club three sheets to the wind if he can’t blame it on Jack?

What would he do with all the mental space freed up by getting over Jack?

The hand stops moving and clamps around the base of his dick. Kent mewls belatedly realising he was close, so close.

“Not yet.” The voice below him growls.

Fuck you yes yet Kent scowls removing the guys hand.

The guy smirks at him and mutters something that doesn’t sound English. Kent’s belly clenches and his dick pulses. When he looks down again all he can see is dark hair.

“Can- uh, can you speak French?” he asks brokenly.

“Huh?” the guy frowns up at him shattering the bubble.

“Nothing – nothing forget it.”

The guy gives him another wary look like he’s deciding this is more hassle than it’s worth and Kent wouldn’t blame him but he could kill him if he stops now because he’s so, so close.

In the background the music the cuts off. A second later the chant starts.

Ten

Nine

Eight

Seven

Kent’s once again enveloped in the wet heat of the strangers mouth.

Six

Five

Four

Three

His belly tightens and his leg shakes.

Two

One

In a rush his body tightens and the black behind his lids turns white as the cum painting his partners face.

The guy turns to spit what load he caught in his mouth, down the toilet.

Happy New Year.

December 31st 2016 – 3:00pm

“Last year Hudson said you all went to a club.” Lewsey says scooping up his Taco but leaving half the filling behind on the Styrofoam plate.

“Uh huh.” Kent answers taking care to keep his own Taco filling in the damn Taco because he’s not an animal and this is not his only meal of the day so he’s not going to act like it is…well not in front of the rookies who are acting every bit like the children they are when Lewis pouts and misses the hint to quit while he’s ahead. “And?” Kent asks after he’s finally swallowed.

“I’m just sayin’ a house party…it’s a little…” he gropes around for the right word and Kent hopes to god it’s the right word because he’s in a pissy mood. Killing himself in the gym was not the good mood shortcut he’d hoped it be and despite Cray engaging him in a squat competition (and losing sorely which always makes Kent’s gloating a little sweeter) the endorphin’s washed away with the soapy run off down the drain.

He’s tried to solve the problem with food but that’s not working either.

“High school?” Cray finishes because he loves watching a car crash.

Kent shoots Cray a dirty look that he brushes off with an obtuse smile. Kent takes a delaying bite and when he’s finished he gives Lewsey the kind of look you reserve for the child that’s been winding you up all day. It’s a look he inherited from his mum and makes him look just like her. “We all went to a club and it was hella expensive and wasn’t that much fun. Jeff’s got a huge fucking house, the booze is free and the music’ll be better.” He takes a breather and sips his soda, “But by all means go to a club and stand outside in line all night. You won’t be missed.”

Lewsey gapes and Taco filling falls from his mouth. He struggles to catch it back, “Erm.” He chews quickly, “No it’s-“ he looks at Cray for help but Cray’s too busy trying to smother his laughter. “It’s fine.”

“Is it?” Kent asks tartly. “You don’t have to come.”

Lewsey once again looks to Cray for help which is stupid because the guy lives for awkward moments like these. Everyone thinks Cray’s a nice guy because he doesn’t verbally give the rookies shit, but none of them have wisened up to the traps he silently lays.

“No, no! I want to.” Lewsey insists.

“It’s not mandatory.” Cray says with artful nonchalance.

Kent looks down at the table for a knife but all he sees is a straw. If he gets an eye it’ll shut Cray up but he’ll only get one shot and he can’t vouch for his accuracy. Which is ironic considering what he does for a living.

“It isn’t?” Lewsey doesn’t sound sure.

Before he answers Kent finishes his Taco. He takes his sweet time with it and Cray doesn’t fill the gap of silence which leaves their rookie to glance between them anxiously while nibbling on his own food.

By the time Kent’s done Lewsey’s practically purple.

“Look,” Kent begins, wiping his greasy fingers on a napkin. “Come, don’t come, I don’t give a shit.” He screws up his tissue and punctuates his words by throwing it onto Lewsey’s plate.

“No, no! I wan-wanna come.” Lewsey stutters.

Kent shrugs and gathers up the their debris. “Whatever man. Be there or not it’s your night.” And with that he takes off for the trash can at the back of the restaurant.

While Kent’s in the bathroom Lewsey looks helplessly at Cray who shrugs like he doesn’t know what’s up with their captain but looks like he knows exactly what’s up with their captain.

“Did I- did I really offend Parser or something?” Lewsey asks slowly.

Cray makes to shrug again but he likes Lewsey the best out of all the rookies. Lewsey reminds him of his sister (the only family member he can stand), he even kind of looks like her…or the male version of her at least which is more than he does because he got their dad’s looks which includes their dads unfortunate nose and tendency to put weight on round the face. Cray takes a deep breath then on an exhale answers, “Parser hates New Years.”

Lewsey takes a moment to digest this. He considers it for a moment after that and then says, “My brother hates New Years too but that’s because he got run over when he was a kid and I’m pretty sure he has PTSD from it. Or at least that’s what my sister thinks. I think he just hates that he never has anyone to kiss at midnight.” He shrugs as though it’s just one of those mysteries he’ll never figure out.

Cray loves this kid.

“Does Kent have PTSD?” he asks.

Cray blinks a little startled. He doesn’t know if Kent has PTSD per say but he knows that when it comes to December thirty first there’s something ugly that unfurls inside Kent. “Nah he just never has anyone to kiss at midnight.” Cray lies easily.

Lewsey rears back like this is the most confusing part of his afternoon so far. Not the being abducted at two thirty to go get Taco’s from a tiny fast food joint right on the lip of the city. Not being told to leave his phone behind on pain of endless drills. Not being told that he can only order an everything Taco or a nothing Taco with extra refried beans. Not being forced to wear shorts even though it’s a little too chilly for that.

“That doesn’t make any sense.” Lewsey declares. “He’s Kent Parson! Captain of the Las Vegas Aces.”

Cray’s smile makes his face ache. “And yet,” he tries not to laugh, “he finds himself puckering up into air at midnight.”

Lewsey lowers his voice, “Every year?” he asks disbelievingly.

“Every year.” Cray confirms.

“Is it a suspicion thing? Like Moller and the…” he makes a crude motion with his hand.

“No. Not many people know this but,” Cray leans in conspiratorially, “Kent Parson has no game.”

“No!” Lewsey practically gasps. “No way!” he almost sounds scared like if Kent Parson has no game then none of them do.

“Honest to God.” Cray crosses his fingers under the table.

When Kent returns it takes one look at Lewsey’s confounded expression for him to turn a suspicious one on Cray. “What did you tell him?”

“I told him you woke up on the wrong side of the bed this morning and not to take your piss poor mood personally.” Cray lies seamlessly.

Kent doesn’t miss a beat, “You told him I got not game didn’t you?”

Cray’s grin is shit eating, “He believed me too. You need to pick up more, it’s getting too easy.”

Kent flips him off. “Crays a liar and a scumbag,” Kent educates Lewsey, “and out of the two of us he’s been celibate the longest.”

“Helps me focus my game.” Cray replies sombrely.

“Right…” Lewsey’s eyes dart between them both.

“Let’s blow this joint.” Kent pauses, “If you’re not familiar with the term Cray it’s when-“

“Fuck you man.” Cray shoves his shoulder and they burst out into the white sun of the parking lot.

Cray cries shotgun and runs for the car like a child. Kent walks slower because his hamstrings are fucking killing him and Lewsey hovers in the gap between them like an excited child but one that doesn’t want to lose sight of his parents. When he reaches out for the backdoor handle Kent frowns.

“What are you doing?”

“Getting in the car.” Lewsey rolls his eyes.

“Rookies walk home.” Kent deadpans.

Lewsey laughs haltingly, “Har har.” He tries the handle again but Kent won’t unlock the car. “Seriously?” Lewsey squeaks. “How am I supposed to get back?”

Kent shrugs.

“Come on man.” He whines tugging on the handle.

Kent motions for him to back away from the car and Lewsey retreats a step. “Next time,” Kent advises opening the drivers side and getting in, “don’t be so ready to believe Cray’s lies.” He slams the door down and a second later the window rolls down. “See you at Jeff’s later.” Kent salutes him then starts the car.

Lewsey makes an aborted sound of protest but Kent’s car peels out of the lot and he doesn’t even break when he meets the road.

Lewsey stares after them long after they’re gone. And even longer after that when he realises he doesn’t have his phone.

December 31st 2016 – 6:02pm

“You’re wearing that?” Kent leans forward to squint at the screen even though he can see Katie perfectly.

His sister gives an impatient little snort, “The hanger makes it look shorter.” She says to reassure him.

Not reassured in the least Kent remarks, “I think the dress makes the dress look short.”

Kate’s withering look is just as effective on screen as it is in person, “I don’t tell you how to dress.” She retorts.

“I don’t wear tiny dresses.” He argues.

“Only because you don’t have the legs for it!”

There’s a pause and then both Parson siblings dissolve into laughter. Kent clutches his heart dramatically and in between guffaws pouts, “Wow babe. Ouch.”

“Sorry, sorry.” Katie sighs giving a rueful little smile.

“You already had this talk with mom eh?”

“I already had this talk with mom.” She nods.

Kent sits back feeling like an asshole. “Sorry.”

“It’s fine but it’s not like I can help being hot.” She smirks.

Kent rolls his eyes but says, “Well it is to be expected of the sister of Kent Parson.”

Katie looks confused, “Is this Kent Parson massive nerd and consistent loser of hungry hippos, pool, connect four, fuzboll and basically every other game that isn’t on the ice?”

“No it’d be the other Kent. The one who’s good at everything.” He says sardonically.

Katie shrugs clueless. “Never met the guy.”

“Christ put mom back on.” He groans.

Katie’s eyes bug out of her head and Kent’s about to tell her to calm down when she sputters “Is that Cray?!”

Kent does a double take over his shoulder when he sees what Cray’s wearing…or not wearing. He thinks this is bad enough but Cray’s wearing the boxers with beavers all over them, a nod to a very lewd joke he will definitely not share with his sister. From the screen there’s a wolf whistle and said sister sings, “Hey hot stuff! Where’d you get that body?”

Kent slams the laptop screen down. “I was on skype to my little sister!”

“Yeah,” Cray laughs, “And she can chirp with the best of them.”

Kent will not tell Katie that in case she feels entitled to gloat. “What the fuck are you doing in your underwear in my room?”

“I thought you liked that kind of thing.” Cray scoffs.

Kent feels his heart leap into the back of his throat. “Why the fuck would you think that?” He chokes out venomously.

Cray rears back, “I was joking Christ. Fragile masculinity much?”

Kent could howl if he were capable of finding anything to do with his panic funny. He hasn’t been able to relax since Zimmermann and his stupid blonde boyfriend came out on centre ice after the cup win this summer. He knows it’s ironic to feel even more trapped now when Zimm’s no doubt did it to unchain not only himself but many others living closeted life in the world of professional sports. Kent doesn’t know if Zimmermann forgot what that sort of scrutiny would do to everyone in his life or if he just didn’t care but on the cusp of the big reveal came a litany of blog posts that spent way too much time looking for clues about his orientation in his past and unearthed some rumours about he and Kent that sat way too close for comfort.

Kent hasn’t said a thing about them but he’s been approached several times and even now, all these months later, he still has to watch what he says when Jack’s name comes up.

It also means he’s had to act like the big ol’ straight bro in the locker room just to convince the other guys that the rumours are just that, rumours for teenage girls who romanticise gay relationships between hot guys.

Honestly it’s more exhausting than the regular old pretending he was doing before.

“You’re still half naked in my room.” Kent blinks at Cray.

“I was looking for a spare towel. I gotta shower.”

He couldn’t come in looking for a towel before he took his god damn clothes off? Kent girits his teeth. “What’s wrong with your shower?”

“The waters still not back on. Jesus Christ Parson what crawled up your butt and died? I shower here all the time.”

Cray’s right. Parson lets him shower here all the time, he’s even peed while Cray’s been in the shower so it’s not like he hasn’t seen Cray’s bubble butt before. But (butt!) it’s different now because before Kent was straight and now he’s…well he’s never been straight but the guys didn’t know that, and the ones who did suspect were such a minority as to be easy to ignore or convince otherwise.

Fucking Zimmermann.

“So can I use your shower?”

Kent deflates and hopes his expression is less anxiety and more apology for snapping ‘irrationally’, “Yeah. Towels are in the airing cupboard it’s the door beside my bedroom door.”

“Ahh,” Cray hums, “So that’s what that room is.”

Kent almost doesn’t dare ask but he’s desperate for the distraction, “What did you think it was?”

“Your red room.” Cray snickers.

December 31st 2016 – 9:30pm

Swoops opens the door in a glittery green shirt that makes Kent question his whole existence. “Parse, glad you could make it.” Swoops exchanges a handshake and when both men pull each other in for a back slap Swoops speaks against his ear, “mention the shirt and I’ll pee in your beers.”

When Kent pulls back he’s smirking.

“Kent.” Swoops warns.

“I didn’t say anything.”

“You didn’t have to.”

“You two spend too much time together.” Swoops’ girlfriend sashays down the hall. She looks stunning in a velvet grey dress that hugs her hips in a way that means Swoops is gonna be cleaning up everybody’s drool all night. Jasmine hip checks Swops out of the way and embraces Kent. “Glad you could make it.” She presses a kiss to his cheek.

Kent’s missed Jasmine and Swoops over Christmas while they went to Spain to visit Jas’ parents and he opens his mouth to tell them so when Hudson interrupts from over his shoulder.

“You almost sound like you mean it.” He guffaws shouldering his way past Kent through the front door. Neither Swoops not Kent miss the stiffening of Jasmines spine or the tightening of her smile.

There’s a history there. A history Swoops will never talk about because he’s been advised not to jeopardies team dynamics. It’s a history he won’t tell Kent in case Kent feels obligated to do something. It’s a history that makes Jasmine suddenly look self-conscious in her outfit.

Kent pulls away and he watches as Swoops and Hudson exchange a perfunctory handshake and back slap. Hudson turns and does the same with Kent. It’s full of just as much feeling as Swoops’. “Glad you could make it Parser. Missing the club?” Hudson’s eyes glint with innuendo.

Kent tries to head his flush off before it reaches his face. “Only thing I’m missing is a beer.”

“Bar’s where you left it.” Swoops waves them in.

December 31st 2016 – 10:30pm

“You should have seen this guy! He looked like fucking Puff daddy snorting coke off that chicks tit.” Hudson claps Kent on the back so hard he sloshes beer on Swoops’ carpet.

“Shit.”

Swoops leaps up with him, “I got it Parse.” He puts out a hand to stop Kent from rising from the couch to do it himself but Kent’s sick of hearing Hudson tell a story that makes him sound like a grade A douchebag. Kent’s a dick he doesn’t exactly work to prove otherwise but the coke thing was exceptionally douchey and he’s only ever done it once. But once is all it takes and now it’s Hudson’s favourite story to tell.

He wasn’t even there until after Kent had done it but nobody ever seems to fact check him. Hudson’s a good story teller and even Kent finds himself believing his version of events because it makes him sound less like a fratty white boy and more like the pimp people expect a professional athlete to be.

“Parse I got it.” Swoops assures him a second time for show when Kent is on his feet and following him into the kitchen. Jasmine whirls round wine glass to her lips looking guilty that she’s been caught necking pinot.

“Having a good time baby?” Swoops laughs.

“It’ll be great when I get to bottom of this bottle.” She pours another generous glass and waves the bottle at Kent, “Want one sweetheart?”

Something in Kent will always soften when Jasmine calls him sweetheart. It’s the way she says it with such fondness in her voice. It fools Kent into thinking that Jasmine loves him too. He’s five beers in and it’s easy to say yes to another drink and bask in the warmth of the press of Jasmines lips to his cheek and her hand cupping his jaw. “You okay?”

Kent nods.

“Hudson’s telling the coke story again.” Swoops shuts the fridge.

Jasmine tucks her lips between her teeth in displeasure. “What so he thinks you’re like him now?” her voice is sharper than the knife on the cheese board.

“He’ll get bored in a second when he realises all the women here have heard the story.” Kent waves it off.

“Which one?” Jasmine can’t fight snorting.

“All of them.” Jeff says meaningfully.

There’s that history again. Kent’s got enough beer in him to give him amnesia and ask about these other stories but there’s a crash from the study that sends Swoops flying with the names of someone’s kids on his lips.

Jasmine swipes a bit of cheese and holds it out to Kent, “Soak some of that up yeah?” She gestures to the bottle in Kent’s hand. Kent waves off her concern because he’s very determined to get wasted before twelve and he’s only got – he checks his watch- ninety minutes left. He chugs the rest of the beer and steals Jasmine’s glass.

“One day,” she sighs, “you’re going to have to get over him.”

“Who?”

Jasmine gives him a look.

“Who says?” he gasps wiping his mouth with the back of his hand.

“Your sanity?” Kent reaches for the wine but Jasmine pushes it out of his reach. “Come on Kent.”

“Don’t tell me how to live my life.” He scowls childishly.

Jasmine gives him a long look but when he doesn’t rush to apologise she leaves the kitchen. Kent snags the wine bottle and takes a swig trying to fill the space that Jasmine’s disappointment hollows out of him. When it doesn’t work he goes out to freeze in the garden.

December 31st 2016 – 11:25pm

Kent’s butt has gone numb but he’s still staring at the god damn app.

He wants to say he’s happy for them. He wants to get behind them like everyone else and say words like ‘good for them’ and ‘that’s real progress they’re pioneering’ and ‘we should all representation’ and other sentences with buzz words like that but he just…can’t. Kent can’t support them not because he’s a raging homophobe but because he’s broken hearted and bitter.

Silence he could take. Being frozen out he could take. But seeing them like that? On the ice in front of thousands of fans and cameras that broadcast to millions more all over the country, all over the world, kissing? Kissing like they were in love? Kissing like they’d waited their lifetimes to do it?

Kissing like they were fucking happy.

There was nothing but white noise in his head when he saw it on Cray’s phone but after they’d gotten outside, after Carly couldn’t be heard giving his opinion like anyone gave a shit, his brain filled up with the kind of howling Kent was terrified people could hear.

That was supposed to be us!

His brain still screams it sometimes. It screams it when his eyes snag on a picture of Jack beaming at the camera holding a fucking pie that isn’t on any diet plan Kent’s ever prescribed to. He screams it when he sees a picture of them kissing on instagram or twitter. He yowls it when he sees the picture of Jack passed out in bed, covers hiked up to his waist and hair all sleep mussed.

Roadies are tough even on the veterans the caption reads.

It’s supposed to be cute but it makes Kent want to hurl. Kent only met that bitty kid once but he’s pretty sure that whatever he has with Jack can in no way compare to what he and Kent had.

They were masters on the ice. The bloody champions of the no look one shot goal for fucks sake! Everything they were on the ice they were a million times more off of it and each side fed into the other making them real contenders. Kent and Jack were supposed to go in the draft together. They were supposed to graduate to pro from their farm teams and get the A’s and then captaincy. Kent was supposed to spend his days doing the two things he enjoyed most. Playing hockey and loving Jack.

Sure Kent still gets to play hockey but he has to watch someone else love Jack and Jack love someone else.

Meanwhile Kent sits here on his ass too afraid to take a chance on someone else because lord knows Jack got all the luck. He gets lucky enough to find a boyfriend at Samwell, a boyfriend who obviously understood the dangers of Jack coming out in the world. Kent wouldn’t be so lucky. Kent would probably tether his line to someone who would sell him down the river, out in him in the tabloids or blackmail him for their silence. Or worse resent him for pulling them back into the closet with him.

Kent pitches the wine bottle into the garden and hears it smash somewhere down the patio. He regrets it immediately.

Gluttonous for punishment Kent opens up Eric’s twitter.

@omgcheckplease start as you mean to go on.

Attached is a picture of a series of pies all laid out neatly and photogenically along a gleaming kitchen counter. A kitchen counter Jack’s pay check paid for no doubt.

The next few tweets are a transcript of conversations they’ve been having with their friends and family during the day. The next few are a saccharine sweet shout out to all the ‘fans’ who have supported them this year since the Falconers cup win and Jack and Eric’s big gay reveal.

Eric doesn’t type big gay reveal, Kent just adds that in because he’s angry and petty and self-destruction has no bite unless he’s adding in his own internalised (and really it has to be internalised because only six people in Kent’s life know he’s gay) homophobia.

The next tweet comes with a picture of a beer pong table set up.

@omgcheckplease @clarissaexplainsitall showin’ bros how it’s done again!

@omgcheckplease reigning 2017 champion @clarissaexplainsitall

Attached is a photo reminiscent of the photo taken last time except there’s only one guy beneath her foot and it’s Jack. His face is all scrunched up and peculiar looking and Kent does a double take when he realises that it’s because he’s laughing so hard.

He sways on the wall and closes his phone.

He doesn’t know who the fuck that guy in the photo is.

Falling off the wall Kent starts the slow stumble back to the house and when he steps through the patio doors the warm air dries his lips and shrinks his bladder threateningly.

He hunts for the bathroom but the downstairs one is occupied and so he crawls, on his hands and knees, up the stairs too drunk to just hold onto the railing. When he summits them he spots two girls leaning against the landing wall each staring at their phones. Both are leggy and blonde and completely Hudson’s type

“They are goals.” The tallest leggiest one gushes. Her gold dress makes her glow.

“Such goals.” Her less leggier but no less blonder friend agrees.

“I know it’s, like, not pc to say but I totally think them making out on centre ice was hot.”

“Oh my god hella hot.”

If you think that’s hot you should have seen him sucking cock Kent thinks to himself and because he finds himself so hilarious he snorts out loud. The girls whirl around eyes saucer wide and full of guilt.

“Sssorry ladies,” he slurs passing them, “Please go back to…whatever the fuck you were doin’.” He sends an approximation of a grin over his shoulder before shutting the bathroom door behind him.

He throws the lid up, pulls his pants down and relieves himself. Outside in the hall he hears the girls say,

“Kent’s hot.”

“Brett says he’s a fucking mess and a coke addict.”

Hudson invited them then.

“Do you think those rumours about him and Jack were true? You know the-“ she pauses and Kent wonders if she’s miming sniffing coke or a handjob.

“Regardless I’d still fuck him.”

After a beat the other girl says, “Yeah me too.”

December 31st 2016 – 11:48pm

“Kent? Kent? Open the door. I know you’re in there.” The handle twists but Kent made sure to lock it so all it does is rattle against the frame. “Fucks sake. You better not be passed out in your own puke.”

Kent grunts. Not his style.

There’s a muffled “Thank god.” Outside the door followed by a click of the lock and finally the door opening. Swoops appears with a glass bottle in his hand and the first thing Kent slurs is,

“That better be vodka.”

“Ha ha.” Jeff says humourlessly. “No. You’ve had enough fucking liquor you can drink this.” He hands him the bottle and a slice of bread, “And eat this. Why are you in my bath tub?”

Kent ignores the water but does take the bread. Crumbs fall onto his chest. “It looked comfortable.”

Jeff heaves a weary sigh, “And is it?”

Kent shakes his head and more crumbs tumble down. It’s very uncomfortable but Kent was sad anyway and so he decided what was a little more discomfort in the grand scheme of things? “I should have come.” Jeff gives him a look. “I’m ruining the…the…good times.”

“Hudson’s hitting on Maya. You’re missing a hell of a crash and burn but other than that,” Jeff pushes the water at him again, “you’re not preventing anything.”

Kent doesn’t believe him for a second. He’s always fucking up and getting too drunk and then too mopey and Swoops, no Jeff, he’s Jeff when it’s just them together, is always there to look after him. To drag him from one drink too many, helping to smooth over fights that Kent swears to god he didn’t start. Jeff’s like his guardian angel…or his carer.

“You shouldn’t have to look after me.”

Unexpectedly Jeff snaps, “Then stop needing it.” Taken aback Kent blinks up at him. “Is this about Zimmermann?”

Kent sinks down in the tub, “No.” he mumbles into his chest.

“And last year wasn’t about him either?”

“No.”

“You’re the worlds worst liar I swear to fucking god.” Jeff mutters, “I don’t know how nobody has figured you out.”

“I’m Captain,” Kent pouts petulant, “you’re not supposed to give your captain shit.”

Jeff gives him a dry look, “Pretty sure the captains not supposed to get wasted and curl up to die in my bath tub, and yet.”

Kent flips him off.

“Real captainly.”

Kent swigs water and hopes Jeff is affected by the defiance in the violent gulping.

“It could be you, you know.” Jeff says softly after a minute. “You could come out.”

Kent almost spits his water out. “I’m not like Jack.” He says when he’s done.

“You’re not?” Jeff looks genuinely puzzled.

Kent might find it fond if he knew how to process that expression and all it really meant. “I’m not…” he combs his soupy brain for the word, “beloved.”

“Beloved?” Jeff blinks at him in disbelief.

“Beloved.” Kent scowls at him. It’s less effective every time he does it.

“How in the fuck is Zimmermann beloved? You think just cos his dad was a hockey star and his boyfriend started a black market jam trade that that makes him beloved?” Jeff snorts as if to say give me strength “It’s his boyfriend doing the baking not him. Jack Zimmermann is no more or less ‘beloved’ than you.”

“I can’t come out.”

“Can’t or don’t want to?” Jeff replies swiftly.

Kent bristles, “Don’t want to.” Kent snaps.

At length Jeff decides, “I think that’s bullshit.”

“Don’t fucking assume you know anything about what I want.” Kent snaps viciously…or vicious for a guy drunk in a bath tub with crumbs all over his shirt.

“God forbid I do that Kent huh? God forbid I try to help you off this self-destructive fucking rollercoaster you are determined to be strapped into.”

“I never asked you to help me!”

“That’s what friends do!”

“I don’t need you as my friend!” he shouts.

“Of course you fucking do!” Jeff shouts back. “Without me you’d be dead, or worse, slandered in all the papers for all the fucking bathroom blowjobs.”

Kent scoffs bitterly, “I never took you for a homophobe.”

Jeff sneers at him, “I’m not a fucking homophobe you asshole I’m trying to look out for you. You don’t want to be out then stop fucking around with randoms who would sell you down the river if they ever found out who you are. You don’t want the wider world knowing things about you you’d rather keep secret then maybe you should stop taking strangers into back rooms and working your way through Nevada one grindr user at a time and focus on getting over Jack fucking Zimmermann.”

By the time he’s done Jeff’s chest is heaving and the air’s turned thick and heavy with all the words he’s just said. Kent can’t say anything for the giant lump in his throat and it takes him several tries before he feels like he can swallow it enough to make sound around it. “Why couldn’t it be me?”

Jeff sinks down, turns and leans his back against the tub. “You and Jack?”

“We used to date.” Kent whispers like he’s just admitted something huge. Like Jeff doesn’t already know that the tear in Kent’s heart is shaped like Zimmermann’s knife. “He thinks I forgot him and then when I went to talk to him at Samwell he just-“ Kent takes a shuddering breath, “he didn’t want to know. He told me to get out.”

Jeff takes a breath, “That was a long time ago.”

“He gets everything.” Kent croaks miserably. “The legendary parents, the money and the privilege. He got the fresh start and every hockey team vying to be his first pick even after he left them hanging. Then he gets the A and the perfect fucking boyfriend and now,” Kent’s head lolls against the tub, “now he gets a team who supports who he really is.”

Kent makes Jeff wait for the kicker.

“And he did it all without me.”

And there it is.

“We’d be there for you.”

Kent snorts, it’s a nice thought but it’s hardly true. “You think Hudson and Macksey are gonna be there for me? You think the GM’s are gonna be there for me? You know what they’ll fucking say. They’ll watch the ticket sales go down and the fights on the ice get worse and they’ll think maybe it’s best if I get scratched for a few games. Then it’s me handing over my C and sending me down to ‘train’ kids at the farm and then come trade day,” he makes a whistle bomb sound, “they’ll sell me to the only bidder.”

“They can’t kick you off the team for being gay Kent.”

“They can make it hard to stay on it.” He snaps, “God Jeff I love you but you’re fucking naïve.”

Jeff makes an angry impatient noise in the back of his throat, “You think you’re the only one who has a secret on this team? Do you think you’re the only player on this roster who has things they think they need to hide for fear of being benched or sent down to the farm? Jesus Christ Kent you’re the fucking captain. You could help these peoples!”

“I don’t owe anybody anything.”

“Then you’re just like Zimmermann, or worse because he just did that.”

“For himself.” Kent refuses to believe that Jack did that for anybody but himself. He won’t have thought about the wider world. Jack’s only ever crippled under the public pressure, he’s never risen to meet it or change it.

Jeff makes that sound again, “For himself or not he’s not opened a door that the leagues been trying to hold closed for decades. Whether he continues with this or not it’s out there now and pretty soon other players are going to gently nudge their way out and declare themselves too. You could be one of them.”

Kent’s silence is considering. “But I’d be alone.” He says quietly.

“You wouldn’t be alone.”

“You think I could find someone to kiss live on air after a game?”

Jeff rolls his eyes, “Now you’re just being facetious. I’m saying that if you came out you’d have people in your corner. Your family for one and me and Jasmine and loads of other guys on the team.”

Kent makes a sound, “You sure of that?”

“I am. If this bullshit,” he waves over his shoulder to Kent wasted in the bath, “is about more than your heartbreak with Zimmermann just know that you don’t have to be afraid of walking out there alone if you want to be honest with the world about this part of you. But if this is only about Jack then I have some friendly advice for you.”

Jeff pauses so Kent has to ask ,”And that is?”

“Get some therapy and get over him.”

“I thought the best way to get over someone was to get under someone else.”

Jeff thinks he hears a smile in Kent’s voice. He answers with his own, “The rate you’re going through them don’t you think if that were true it would have happened by now?”

“You can’t slut shame me.” He grumbles sinking down into the tub. His sneakers squeak on the porcelain.

Finally Jeff turns hooking his muscled forearms over the lip of the tub and staring down into Kent’s tear streaked face. Gently he wipes one away from his cheek. “Kent. I love you okay? I can’t watch you do this anymore. You’re too fucking talented and amazing to be sitting in my tub thirty seconds from midnight drunk crying over a boy who doesn’t love you.”

Kent sucks in a breath.

“Yes you idiot I love you.” Jeff rests his cheek on the tub and regards Kent with a fond smile. “And so does Jasmine.”

“It’s not exactly the kind of love that has us making out on centre ice is it?”

Jeff shrugs, “You never know”

Kent’s belly does something clenchy that he’ll only start to understand when he’s hungover, “but if you want it to be you’ll have to start picking up the tab at meals. You can even start at brunch tomorrow.”

Kent burps. “Oh God.” He scrambles to get up.

Jeff fights to lean back before Kent’s flailing limbs can smack him in the face. “Jesus okay? We can ease into it you can get the coffees.”

“Nope!” Kent falls half out of the bath in his haste to get away.

“Christ Kent you’ll never get that-“

Kent pushes violently past him and falls face first into the toilet. Then vomits.

“-kiss now.”

“Urgh.” Kent gasps into the bowl.

Jeff leans over and presses his hand to the space between Kent’s shoulder blades and slowly rubs up and down in what he hopes is a soothing manner. Kent opens his mouth to thank him then vomits again.

“Happy New Year Kent.”

Kent flips him off.

“No really. It’s midnight.” He slides his phone under Kent’s face. “See?”

On the screen 00:00 flashes up. “Fuck.” He sighs. “Happy New year man.”

Jeff’s hand returns a steady slow comforting stroke along his spine. “Happy New Year bro.”

Staring at the rancid water at the bottom of the toilet bowl Kent doesn’t know how happy the new years going to be but when he wakes in the morning to find two Advil’s and a water with a note propped against it that reads;

Hi sweetheart. Breakfast’s on you yeah?

He begins to reconsider.

#omgcp #kent parson #jeff troy #swoops #parser #check please #omgcheckplease #my fics #happy new years guys #parse positive

75 notes · View notes

ebaeschnbliah · 7 years ago

Text

DUNGEON ON THE MIND-STAGE ?

________________________________________________________________

Musings on the 'Serbian-Scene' in TEH and playing with it on a metaphorical level

Sherlock chained to the walls of this dungeon, beaten with a metal bar by a brute and Mycroft sitting by ... watching calmly .... it never felt right to me. And a lot of other things contradict themselves in this scene as well.

More under the cut ....

Why has Mycroft to visit that prison himself ... 'smuggling his way into their ranks'. Does he not have a lot of experts at his command, trained exactly for this sort of action? Also .... this must have taken a lot of time. Who replaced the 'british government' in London while Mycroft was away, doing the much despised 'legwork'?

Maybe Mycroft wanted to go himself because it was about Sherlock, his little brother, whom he always worries about so much? Then why doesn't he show his concern in any way?

Maybe Mycroft couldn't use words because there was the risk of being overheard? Sure, the first few sentences are wispered but the last words - and very revealing words by the way ('Back to Baker Street, Sherlock Homes') - aren't wispered at all.

Besides, there isn't the slightest hint that someone is watching this interrogation somewhere from the outside - unlike the one of Jim Moriarty at the end of THOB. There is no quick shot of a little camera lens in a dark corner, nor a tiny red laser light to clarify the possibility of being watched or overheard. No one is monitoring that scene from a different room. On the contrary, it is explicitly shown that the soldier outside the door wears earplugs and listens to music ... he's not interested at all in what happens behind him in that dungeon.

Maybe Mycroft can't express his worry and concern with words because ... he simply doesn't do things that way? Very plausible .... but ... There is no concern or worry or empathy in his eyes either. Nothing! Just sarcasm, scorn and cynicism. And I wont even start about the hair pulling or comparing torture to 'holidays'.

In fact, Mycroft seems much more concerned to get Sherlock back to London in time to ward off a possible terror attack, then he is about his bleeding and tortured little brother. Which reminds me a lot of Eurus in Sherrinford and her special 'utility':

'There is, in this facility, a prisoner whose intellectual abilities are of occasional use to the British government.'

Mycroft seems to have a certain tendency to free his siblings from prisons when he needs their extraordinary talents for his own purposes.

So, my friend. Now it’s just you and me. You have no idea the trouble it took to find you. Now listen to me. There’s an underground terrorist network active in London and a massive attack is imminent. Sorry, but the holiday is over, brother dear. Back to Baker Street, Sherlock Holmes.

"I got you out." ....... "No – I got me out."

There is clearly something in Sherlock's hand and it looks a lot like a key.

Question is ... how was Sherlock able to get hold of a key? Had it been already in his hands before he got chained up in that room? Then why didn't the torturer notice it? I heavily doubt anyone - even Sherlock Holmes - is able to pinch something while chained from wall to wall with outstreched arms. The next thing I also heavily doubt is that Sherlock would be able to use that key to free himself. The hinge of the shackle is clearly on the underside ... therefore the keyhole must be on the back of the hand. Seems very, very impossible for Sherlock to 'get himself out'.

Well .... and that's the next thing which reminds me of Eurus in Sherrinford ... behind Elephant Glass.

Two prisoners - under normal circumstances - unable to free themselves by their own power - and yet ... neither a high tech security prison, equipped with elephant glass ... nor shackles and heavy chains forged of iron, can keep them inside.

Eurus apparently is able to walk through elephant glass every time she wants to break free.

Sherlock holds the key to his bonds in his own hands, ready to get himself out when he wants to.

By the way ... apparently Jim and Ajay can't be held in captivity as well. They too walk away from torture and prison under dubious circumstances. Not sure about Alex, but it's always suspicious when a charachter dies off stage. And Gabriel ... except for the name there's not the slightest bit of information about that guy. So, who knows ....

Taken as a 'real life scene' Sherlock's captivity and torture in this prison in Serbia ... ordered by a man who is called 'Baron Maupertius' ... appears to be at least a bit dubious. (I know Baron Maupertius is canon but still .... a Baron in the 21st century in Serbia???) Could it be that this whole scene has the distinct flair of someone who loves to be .... dramatic? Anyway, I dare to doubt ... and therefore:

A metaphorical reading of the dungeon scene in Serbia

Based on the assumption that Sherlock is already investigating and deducing on his Mind-Stage at the beginning of 'The Empty Hearse' ... with

Mycroft representing the BRAIN

Sherlock the SOUL

London equating Sherlock's BODY

Terrorists .... being synonymous with EMOTIONS

... what would that scene look like?

BRAIN: "Ok, SOUL ... I watched you torture yourself long enough. Stop this nonsense and put yourself together! You are severly needed by your BODY. Return at once because very soon EMOTIONS will rise and attack again. Get ready for it. Find and defuse all the 'danger points' (explosives) ... unless of course, you want to become a prisoner of your own meat! ... You had enouth time to catch your breath! Get up! The game is on again!"

Torture yourself? .... let's take a closer look at the torturer then

TORTURER: He said that I used to work in the navy, where I had an unhappy love affair ... that the electricity isn’t working in my bathroom; and that my wife is sleeping with our next door neighbour! The coffin maker! ... If I go home now, I’ll catch them at it! I knew it! I knew there was something going on!

The torturer worked in the navy .... a sailor then? Interesting. Serbia is a country without access to the sea. But then, the man (who speaks Serbian) could have been a mercenary in some other army. Who knows? A mercenary in the navy .... maybe he even was a .... PIRATE?

Unhappy love affair ..... the sailor/pirate once loved someone, but it went wrong. And then he gave up his profession as a 'pirate'? Because of a broken heart? Well, well ....

Electricity not working.... if it's not working then there is no light ... then it is rather DARK. Which impairs the sight considerably. A bit like 'shortsightedness'?

In the bathroom .... the bathroom is definitely the one room in a house/flat which has the strongest connection to ... WATER. A lot of water in a bathroom. A lot of 'dark water' ...... if the electricitiy isn't working .....

The wife is cheating with a coffin maker .... someones life partner is cheating with a person who creates sort of 'closets/cupboards for dead people' .... who puts dead people into narrow boxes .....

If the torturer goes home at once, he will chatch them cheating .... hm, maybe if the 'former pirate' returns to London immediately, he will arrive just in time to be present for ... an engagement?

There is even a little bit of additional information hiding in plain sight regarding this 'torturer'. He wears a Tattoo. Nothing unusual for a former sailor or a mercenary one might say. In combination though this tattoo becomes very interesting because it is Mary who also wears a 'secret tattoo'. Sharing more than 30 similarities makes her a major mirror for Sherlock. Therefore I wouldn't be much surprised if somewhere on Sherlock's body waits a tattoo to be discovered as well. :)))))

It really looks like - on a metaphorical level - this torturer is no one else than Sherlock who is torturing himself in the solitude of his mind.

Conclusion

Something happens in S2 TRF and Sherlock ... panicks. My humble guess: Jim happens. Oozing sexuality and darkness like never before, threatening Sherlock to break into every corner of his being, to occupy even the most secure and heavily locked places ... 'the man with the key is king and honey you should see me in a crown' ... no place of power, no prison is secure enough to keep him out ... not even the crown jewels are safe anymore. : )))

Sherlock tries to get rid of Jim, then fakes his own death (just to be safe) and goes on a mental hiatus to find his former equilibrium again. Only ... it doesn't work. It turns out that being away from BODY and HEART doesn't change anything. On the contrary ... the distance becomes torture, unbearable suffering. At last Sherock's own BRAIN - logic and reason - tells him to stop that misery and go back to where he belongs. Sherlock has to find either a way to defeat/delete his emotions entirely or .... lose the war and surrender to that powerful 'underground network'. And we know already how this battle ends ....... :)))

Bonus-Pics ________________________________________

Obviously the torturer doesn't use a tyre lever to beat Sherlck. It's propably some piece of a water pipe ... but .... well .... the look of it ....

I mean, they could have easily chosen a club or some straight piece of metal ....?

Sherlock holding the key to his chains in his own hand?

How does a rainbow get into a dungeon .....

I leave you to your own deductions. Thanks @callie-ariane for the scripts.

August, 2017

@gosherlocked @loveismyrevolution @monikakrasnorada @sagestreet @sherlockshadow @sarahthecoat @darlingtonsubstitution @kateis-cakeis @tjlcisthenewsexy @221bloodnun

#dungeon on the mind stage #teh #serbia #colours of the rainbow

114 notes · View notes

thegospelofnagisa · 7 years ago

Note

SPOILER AND SPECULATION ALERT! Also, some background: the antagonists are a cult called the Wings of Magius, who have figured out that magicals become witches. They protect the rumors of the city, including what I must assume is the one causing the doppel effect, thereby protecting the magicals of the city. The only problem is that the rumors imprison people, and the Wings are ruthless in cutting down any magical who tries to save those trapped inside a rumor. My theory is that (part 1)

SPOILER AND SPECULATION ALERT conflicts are going to escalate between the unknowing new magicals and the better informed Wings (which is heavily hinted by the latest chapter in which Tsuruno and Felicia abduct and interrogate one of the Wings, who swears revenge) and the Wings are going to start killing people (starting with Team Momoko, considering that Rena is heavily foreshadowed to die first what with the increased pickup rate event and the shot from the OP of her despairing), and (part 2)

SPOILER AND SPECULATION ALERT! the good guys are eventually going to retaliate, eventually killing the rumor protecting all magicals from becoming witches. After that, characters are going to start dropping like flies, with nothing to protect them anymore, and however many Wings are still alive by this point are going to be like "I TOLD you so," and everyone else is going to be like "No you didn't, you gave us cryptic warnings and tried to kill us after we tried learning more, (part 3)

SPOILER AND SPECULATION ALERT MAYBE IF YOU EXPLAINED WHAT YOU WANTED TO DO IN THE FIRST PLACE YOU LITTL" and then Mitama is going to turn into a witch, having absorbed magic from "enhancing" everyone else's soul gems, and as she becomes Walpurgisnacht, everyone is going to die except Homura, who will reset the timeline and keep moving towards the main series timeline. (part 4)ANOTHER interesting thing I've thought about is the possibility of new magiacls becoming witches we know from the main series. People have pointed out that Konomi, the flower themed meguca, is a deadringer for Gertrud, but that's almost too obvious for the show if you ask me (Sayaka looks nothing like Octavia, not Nagisa like Charlotte, nor Kyoko like Ophelia, etc). An interesting possibility is if they deliberately designed some magicals to resemble certain witches - and then had (1/2)(2/2) different magicals become those witches instead. For example, another magical, Nanaka, is very distrustful, just like Gertrud (Nanaka's magic is to always know who her enemies are), and her family was renknowned for running a well-known flower-arranging school. Another case is the witch Gisela, a rebellious metal witch. Akira instantly reminded me of her, being a rebellious silver meguca herself, but people have pointed out that Kanoko's parents own a sheet metal factory, and she (2/3)(3/3) Kanoko went against their wishes for her to eventually take over the family business by wishing they could work for 30 more years, giving her the chance to pursue her own dreams as a fashion designer. The most obvious case is Mitama, the walpurgislesbian, who again, is almost too obvious for this to be played straight. I've no idea who could be Walpurgisnacht's witch form in her steed, but iirc someone on Reddit suggested Ria Ami instead. What do you think? Any thoughts/theories?

-------

Oh my...the plot thickens....This is like a DC crossover, we love them, they kill them.

There is a lot going on in this game and I like that, it’s way better than Heroes predictable and boring plot, I like it.

#magia record #spoilers #Anonymous

7 notes · View notes

produce101imagines · 7 years ago

Text

Live, Laugh, Drink?

R E Q U E S T !

Genre: Fluff

Member: Kim Jaehwan (ft. Park Woojin)

Summary: After a cool, casual drinking night at the house, an unexpected moment happens between Jaehwan and Woojin.

•|•|•|•|•|•|•|•|•|•|•|•|•|•|•|•|•|•|•|•|•

Clink.

“And one more sip for our guest of honor: Y/N!” Daniel had heartedly laughed after announcing that statement for the fifth time already.

The six men cheered on as you rolled your eyes. Within the past hour, the legal-enough members had been drinking glass after glass, bottle after bottle. It wasn’t even your birthday, so why were they drinking in my name? Nothing big had happened; Jisung just threw this get-together so we could all spend time with each other. All 12 of us.

“Ok. Ok. Enough drinking. Let’s do somethi-” You were cut off by the slurring of a certain boy with the unique laugh.

“NoOOoOoo Y/N. The night- *hiccup* The night just... Uhhh,” Jaehwan trailed off and laughed a bit after forgetting what he said.

“Idiot... ‘Started’,” Minhyun lowly said with a playful tilt of his head as he lazily swayed in his seat.

“Ok and?? I’m ready to get waSTED. WHOOOO,” Jaehwan hollered and laughed, followed with the laughter of a few other members.

“As I was saying, before someone interrupted,” you paused to glance at Jaehwan who seemed to be laughing at his shoes or something at the ground.

“We should do something with, you know, all the members.” You explained to the more-than-tipsy members, hoping the underaged members were listening. After all, they weren’t doing anything anyway so they had no choice but to listen.

Daehwi popped up from the couch he was just laying on.

“Yeah! I’m so bored. I need to do something. No one wants to play the games with me. These people are so bori- O. M. G. I just got lightheaded from getting up so quickly,” Daehwi spoke quickly and carefully laid down.

“Pfft. Are you sure you got lightheaded from getting up so quickly or from firing words too quickly, chatterbox?” Daniel called out to Daehwi as Seongwoo gave Daniel a high-five.

“Ughhh. Daehwi what should we do?” You asked the boy so he doesn’t feel too bad for getting picked on a bit.

“I don’t know. Guanlin and Jinyoung went to sleep already,” sighed Daehwi from the couch.

“Jihoon! Go upstairs and sleep with them,” Sungwoon said to Jihoon who was already falling asleep.

“What? No. I’m gonna play whatever you guys are playing,” Jihoon sleepily trailed off.

You heard Daniel and Jisung laughing quietly between each other. You raised your eyebrow at them and they straightened up and tried oh so hard to stop laughing but it wouldn’t work.

Jaehwan was still looking at something on the floor.

Jisung announced, “Ok. We’re playing truth or dare. I’ll start. Jihoon, I dare you to go sleep upstairs right now.” Everyone giggled a bit as Jihoon huffed and got up from the couch. He dragged his feet and heavily made his way to the room to sleep.

Daehwi popped up from the couch again. “My turn! Minhy-” Daehwi had already started to talk before Daniel cut him off.

“Uh, no. It’s my turn,” Daniel said as Daehwi frowned but still let him talk.

“Daehwi, I dare you to follow Jihoon and go sleep as well. It’s too late for you youngsters to be awake,” Daniel teasingly dared Daehwi.

Daehwi rolled his eyes but still made his way towards where Jihoon went, muttering something about how the older members aren’t fun with him and mocking Daniel.

As soon as you heard the door shut, you turned to the two MMO boys.

“What was that all about? Don’t you want to hang out with everyone?”

No one replied at first and the atmosphere turned a bit dull.

Seongwoo spoke up.

“One sip in honor of the underage members not being able to experience such a wonderful drink?” He sheepishly smiled after.

The whole table started to laugh and so did you. Seongwoo always managed to brighten up the mood in the right way.

After drinking a bit more, (you may or may not have drunk a bit of the alcohol) you started to hear Jaehwan’s laugh. He was, again, looking down at the ground and was wondering what he was laughing at. You decided to peek under the table.

You screamed as you saw Woojin crawl his way to you, wearing a scary mask.

“AHHH STOP! STOP! I’LL STOP DRINKING JUST PLEASE STOP!” You screamed and could’ve sworn you felt sober in that split moment.

Jaehwan and Woojin laughed. Woojin, being your best friend, knew how much you hated being scared. You easily got annoyed and sensitive whenever you got a bit spooked but this was a little too much.

“We got you!! We’ve been planning this for soooooo long,” Jaehwan laughed, slurred and hiccuped all at the same time. Woojin got up from under the table and laughed along with Jaehwan. Needless to say, you made quite some noise as everyone stared at you in a peculiar way.

“Ugh. Don’t do that. You guys are annoying. Why don’t you guys do something together that’ll make you two shut up,” you angrily spoke as you glared at the laughing pair.

Jaehwan seemed to have heard you and shrugged with a big smile on his face.

“Ok.”

Jaehwan then leaned up, exaggeratedly swung his arms around Woojin, pushed the hair out of his face and pushed his lips on to Woojin’s. Woojin had his eyes wide open, as did everyone else. The kiss, as still as a picture, lasted for about ten seconds. Before Jaehwan pulled away, you took a quick picture of the kissing scene, planning to use it to remind Jaehwan of what he did that one blurry night. The room was definitely quiet now.

“EW THE TASTE OF JAEHWAN’S LIPS AND THE ALCOHOL IS NASTY,” Woojin complained as he wiped away his lips, cheeks blooming into a deep red color.

“My lips taste better without alcohol. You can try a taste tomorrow,” Jaehwan playfully winked at Woojin. Woojin groaned and went to the kitchen to find something to wash the taste out of his mouth.

You were shocked. The members drinking had their eyes fixed on Jaehwan, with the exception of Jisung, Seongwoo and Daniel laughing and telling each other “I told you!”

“Uh... That was unexpected,” you carefully said.

Jaehwan shrugged and said, “But it did make us shut up, and that’s exactly what you wanted, didn’t you?” He sunk back into his seat and lazily glanced around the room.

You heard shuffling and muffled “Go. Go. They’ll see us. Hurry!” from Daehwi and Jihoon. They had witnessed the kissing scene and as soon as the door closed, you heard laughing, cheering, a bit of mock-gagging and lots of kissing noises.

“So... Y/N. Wanna shut up together?” Seongwoo asked with a smirk and sent a flying kiss your way.

“Ok anyway, this night is over. I’m going to sleep with the younger members. Have fun,” you hurriedly spoke and made your way to the room with the younger members.

After washing up and laying down on the bed, you closed your eyes. Before you fell asleep, you heard the older members saying something but it was muffled. You then heard a distinct, loud kissing noise, followed by a series of cheers, hollering and Jisung, Daniel and Seongwoo laughing their butts off.

Jisung laughed in between his words as he said, “Woojin liked it so much that he went in for a second one!!”

You rolled your eyes for the last time that night.

•|•|•|•|•|•|•|•|•|•|•|•|•|•|•|•|•|•|•|•|•

Hey guys! Thank you thank you to the beautiful soul who requested this and waited patiently for my procrastinating-self to post it. I was busy studying for my DMV stuff but now I’ll be back on a roll! I start school this Monday so I know it’ll be hard to update but I’ll try to do my best to provide you guys with new stories! We both greatly appreciate requests as it gives us stuff to write about and makes it easier to update.

Hope you liked it!

❀Admin Malaysia

#wanna one #produce101imagines #pd101 #yoon jisung #ha sungwoon #hwang minhyun #kang daniel #ong seongwoo #kim jaehwan #park jihoon #park woojin #bae jinyoung #lee daehwi #lai guanlin #kpop fluff

30 notes · View notes

queenisobelle · 5 years ago

Text

Ready Or Not - Retold by Me (and a little side story)

I never really watch horror or thriller movies on big screens but this one is manageable because it has a dark comedy along with it. It’s R-16, by the way.

About last month, I stumbled upon a horror comedy movie trailer of Ready or Not on my newsfeed in Facebook. I wanted to watch it but I kinda forgot about it since other heavily marketed movies were also showing at the same time.

youtube

I planned to watch Angel Has Fallen alone but my sister invited me for a free movie last Friday night and come on, who says “No” to a free movie, right? So yeah, despite the heavy Friday night Cebu City traffic jam, we were able to catch the 6:50PM screening at Ayala Mall.

Side story alert:

Everything seems normal inside Cinema 4 of Ayala. We were all seated when suddenly, there was a little drama on our front row. (Yepp, this is the side story that made me miss the Derek Ramsey anti-piracy act campaign as well as the “fashion show” safety and emergency evacuation plan videos that I always look forward to when I watch movies in Ayala). My sister and I were in M15 and M16 and a certain group of friends were already seated in row L in front of us. However, another group of coño rich kids entered the cinema and claimed that their tickets were reserved for row L as well at the same particular spot where team first comers were seated.

So this guy from team coño RK who resembles Nick from Masterchef Season 10 approached team first comers. The approach was not so diplomatic at all as he radiates a somewhat arrogant aura. I don’t know if team first comers got confused in reading their tickets because it turns out that they were supposed to be seated in row R, not L, which means that they are sitting in team coño RK’s reserved seats. So they moved out of the seats and transferred to another column of seats still in row L. I know this was still wrong since they were supposed to be seated in row R. With this, the arrogant guy from team coño RK approached the security guard. He didn’t do this out of concern for those seated in row L, if any. He did it because he was obviously pissed off for after returning to his seat he said, “My god I love this country.” in an arrogant tone as if it’s a Filipino thing to do it.

This guy needs to learn that generalization is not a righteous thing to do. The whole will always be greater than the sum of its parts. To call out a country for a little mistake over a movie theater is just so absurd and that is why I am writing this. I was definitely pissed off by his arrogance. If he blames a country for that little incident, can I blame his country too for his arrogance? Of course, I won’t do it. People are different and are assholes on their own account and not because of the country that they were born to or the country that they live in. It’s very apparent to me that the arrogant guy has some sort of attitude problems or just mental issues.

So let’s go back to the movie.

The movie revolves around the Le Domas estate where generations’ worth of family history was preserved. The Le Domas empire was known to make great names in the classical board gaming industry which was started by their greatgrandfather, Victor Le Domas with a certain agreement with Mr. Le Bael, their benefactor.

The opening scene unfolds during the wedding night of Helen Le Domas where her family was hunting her groom for sacrifice. Young brothers Alex and Daniel were running around and Alex hid Daniel with a lamp in a dumbwaiter elevator. The heavily injured bloody groom stumbled upon the young Alex who immediately screamed, “He’s here!”. The family members came, including Helen who was helplessly watching while being restrained by her family members as her captured groom was taken for sacrifice.

Years later, Alex, who left his family due to the gruesome family tradition went back to the Le Domas estate to marry his fiance, Grace. She came from a foster home and with no permanent family to go home to, her marriage with Alex after 18 months of courtship meant a lot to her. She then met the whole Le Domas family. I’ve had enough effort to make my humble illustration of the Le Domas family tree.

Helen - Alex’s aunt who gives off that Ursula aura and just stares creepily at anyone. It’s quite obvious that she doesn’t like Grace.

Tony - Alex’s father whom she described as “dressed like attending a funeral”.

Becky - Alex’s mother who, like her, is a smoker and also found a home in the Le Domas family. Becky expressed how she likes Grace to be part of her family.

Daniel - Alex’s drunkard brother who, like Alex, doesn’t like the family tradition and just doesn’t care.

Charity - Daniel’s wife who knew of the family tradition before marrying Daniel and even so told Daniel that she came from something worse and she’d rather die than lose all of these - referring to the Le Domas life.

Emilie - Alex’s drug-addicted sister who came late and wasn’t even able to attend the actual wedding ceremony.

Fitch - Emilie’s husband who struggles with using his weapon.

After the wedding, the family had a wedding pictorial for the newlyweds where most of Alex’s family members talked about how Grace will never be one of them. Daniel said that he agrees that Grace is indeed not one of them because she has a soul.

During their wedding night, Grace wanted to spend an intimate time with her husband when suddenly, Helen appeared in their room and reminded Alex that they still had one more thing to do as a part of their family tradition in accepting new members of the family.

The family members went into the room exclusive only for the Le Domas family members. The room contained antique weapons, taxidermy of animals from hunting, and paintings of their ancestors including the empire’s benefactor, Mr. Le Bael. Tony explained the family history of what made the family’s wealth as well as the reason why they must do the tradition. Years ago, their great grandfather, Victor Le Domas met a merchant named Mr. Le Bael who promised to make his family wealthy if they establish a tradition of family initiation. At midnight, the new member will choose a card from a stack of cards inside a very antique box. The cards are written with various games which could be chess, backgammon, old made, hide and sick etc. since they made their fortune from manufacturing various board games. Grace laughed in astonishment when she got the Hide and Seek card which made the whole family uncomfortable. Unknown to Grace, she picked the one and only deadly card among the stack. They locked down the whole estate and turned off all the CCTV cameras to respect traditions and started the game while playing the music “Hide and Seek” by Headquarters on a phonograph.

youtube

Not knowing what lies before her, Grace started hiding inside a dumbwaiter elevator in the family estate while the family members armed themselves with the antique weapons from the room. Helen got an axe while Becky got a bow and arrow. Tony, Emilie, Daniel and Charity got guns while Fitch got a crossbow that he doesn’t even know how to use. The family started hunting down Grace before the dawn breaks believing that Mr. Le Bael wants her as a sacrifice or else all of the members of the Le Domas family will die.

Alex found Grace in time before his family finds her. Grace, still not getting the game, thought that it was a silly way to spend their wedding night until they heard footsteps approaching which made Alex eager to hide Grace. The footsteps turned out to be that of the maid's.

Believing that it was Grace's footsteps, Emilie shot the maid's face with her gun. Seeing the gruesome fate of the maid made Grace realize what the game is all about.

Alex instructed Grace to go to the kitchen while he unlocks the doors from the CCTV room. Fitch, who was in the bathroom, heard their vague whispers but disregarded it and continued watching a video tutorial on how to use a crossbow. Alex was able to unlock the doors in the estate but was held captive by his family. Alex pleaded his family to let Grace leave as she is the most important person to him, even more important than his family. Becky disagreed with Alex and told him that she knew him more than the girl whom he'd spent time with in one and a half year. Helen said that Alex's fate was not to leave his family but to lead them.

Panic-driven Grace forgot the way to the kitchen and stumbled upon Tony, Helen, and Daniel who were disposing the maid's body. Grace ran for her life and went to the weapons room to get a gun and a load of bullets to fight herself back. She was able to find the kitchen but was confronted by the butler. When she aimed a shot at the butler, the gun didn't fire and the butler revealed to her that the ammunition is just for the show and she will eventually die in a sacrifice.

Grace was able to escape the butler and ran outside where she entered the goat barn where Emilie's son shot her with a gun. Pissed off Grace punched the boy who immediately fell on a haystack. Injured Grace fell in a pit where bodies of dead goats and human sacrifices were disposed of. She struggled her way up and was able to run into the road where she sought the help of a stranger in a car. The car passed by her and refused to give her a lift so she had to run to the woods where the butler found her. She was able to knock out the butler and take his car. While driving, she called out the emergency service but to her dismay, the car was reported as stolen so the emergency service refused to help her. The butler was able to catch up to her and sedated her. On their way to the Le Domas estate, Grace woke up and knocked out the butler again but she ended up crashing the car and falling in the hands of Daniel who, despite not agreeing with the family tradition, didn't want his family to die either and decided to knock out Grace and bring her to the Le Domas estate for sacrifice.

Waking up in the sacrificial table at almost end of the dawn, Grace was tied up while the family performed their ritual. They drank wine from a single cup except for Daniel who non-lethally poisoned the wine which has given Grace an ample amount of time to escape. On their way to escape, they were confronted by Charity who ended up killing her husband, Daniel.

Grace stumbled upon Becky who, eager to keep her family alive, attempted to kill Grace at all cost. Grace fought back and grabbed the antique box of cards and brutally hit Becky's head with it over and over again. Alex, who escaped from being captive, saw Daniel’s lifeless body lying on the floor and witnessed Grace killing his mother. Having a sudden change of heart, he took hold of Grace and screamed "She's here!" so that his family can find Grace.

Waking up at the sacrificial table again, Grace was held tightly by the members of the Le Domas family in their sacrificial ritual. All of the family members yelled "Hail, Satan!" while Alex aimed for Grace's heart to which Grace was able to dodge.

Revealing that the game failed because the sun was already up and the dawn has ended, Helen was still determined to finish the ritual. She got her axe and aimed at Grace when suddenly, she exploded into bits and pieces of her guts. One by one, each remaining member of the Le Domas family exploded leaving only Grace and Alex. Alex pleaded Grace to reunite with him and that he really loves her at all cost to which Grace removed her wedding ring and said, "I want a divorce." Alex exploded just like the rest of his family. Grace laughed at the absurdity of what happened to her when she an image of Le Bael showed itself with a look of approval to her survival.

Grace took her late mother-in-law’s cigarettes and in her blood-filled wedding dress, went outside the burning estate. The rescue team approached her for her injuries and asked what happened. "In-laws", she said and puffed a smoke from the cigarette. The end!

Side story ending:

After the movie ended, a group of friends went ahead and the arrogant guy from team coño RK shouted, "Dickheads!" at them. I don't know but it was dark and there's no way of finding if that was the team first comers, if it wasn't then shame on the warfreak dickhead who shouted dickheads at them and if it was indeed them then still shame on the warfreak dickhead who shouted dickheads at them. Either way, the arrogant guy should learn humility and that is what this generation really should learn.

A lot of times people feel superiors and entitled to a lot of better things in life. We need to remind ourselves that we were not born to make other's lives miserable. Instead, we are here in this life to be a blessing to others.

Movie review

I really thought that this movie will only be on Netflix and not on theaters since the marketing is not really that competitive. Ready or Not is a hidden gem compared to its heavily commercialized competitors.

The characters’ casting is not so loud in the celebrity world. Samara Weaving who played Grace does has a close resemblance to Margot Robbie but she does give off a different angst and feisty character to the role.

Even the scenes were limited to about three places only - the Le Domas estate, the barn and the forest. Even so, they were able to pull off that creative artistry in telling a story with those places.

I would really say that this is a fun movie despite the gruesome scenes and violence in it. Based on how I understand it, the point of this story is that nothing worth having comes easy and if it is indeed easy, you'd still have to pay the price of it in one way or another.

Movie ratings: ⭐⭐⭐⭐ 4 out of 5 stars

#ready or not #hide and seek #dark comedy #movie diaries #movie review

0 notes