glory @rmryou-blog - Tumblr Blog

#( * ryou. )#will reply to im's tomorrow!

say peace. @rmkhb

––– summer, 2016.

(` he would’ve thought a whole year is enough preparation time to get more than just acquainted with his new roommate and the other’s various little habits, except the boy proves him terribly wrong. ) (` his second step is hesitant––could’ve sworn he smelt something––frown evident; something about the air is just different––stale. taking a closer whiff only has him coughing lightly, free hand lifted in hopes to dismiss the dust particles. goodness gracious––has it really been just a week? ) (` the suspected culprit for the state this room has been reduced to is somehow sound asleep in his bed––or rather what’s supposed to be a bed but is now a makeshift mini garage sale, possibly of unwashed laundry and emptied food packets. horrified is an understatement. this right here… this is way beyond anything ryou could’ve comprehended and imagined. ) (` extends the selfie stick he’s pulled out of his bag, poking an end at the boy on the bed––just to make sure he’s still alive and that this dreadful smell is not entirely him. )

did something die in here?

#( * say peace. )#rmkhb #HAHSDFOKSD there u go

rmnayeon:

( ⚡ — it’s been hectic, this party. it’s hard to believe the night’s not over yet, after the whirlwind she’d experienced so far. but of course it can’t be over, because – as always – alpha’s got a trick up their sleeve, their intent to shake things up. the crowd around her buzzes with sheer panic, and nayeon’s pushed back by shoulders and elbows in search of something that’ll earn them a victory. hers is still pinned to her swimsuit, a little bit above her waist. a sigh; her hand runs through her hair. she doesn’t know where her date has gone, but— ) ah.

( ⚡ — there’s her target, up ahead. even despite the fact it’ll be one drink until tipsy, her instinct to win is there. her competitive nature is what’s driven her for years; (almost) being intoxicated wouldn’t change it. she’s quick to push between what remains of the crowd, the smile now on her mouth not quite there to say ‘hello, friend’ but to hide that she’s become the hunter, and he is the hunted. it’s with nimble (sticky) fingers that she leans towards him, and they disappear into his pocket when he lends her an ear. but in the end, there’s a surprise twist to the plot— )

i didn’t think you’d comply this easily. ( ⚡ — that’s why there’s a pin that’s not hers tucked into the palm of her hand, hidden behind her back. she’s caught, but her smile is sweet – as if this is a common occurrence; as if her taking what doesn’t belong to her is normal. in this case, at least there’s a reason for it — but she’s known to place her fingers in places they don’t belong, and he’s definitely been one of her victims. still, he trusts her; a good friend. she’ll do the same, by handing the pin back. for now. ) a good fight, huh. do you want me to slap you? run away with the pin? say something like ‘you’ll never catch me, tsuzuki ryou’, let out an evil cackle? i’m a decent actress.

well… (` begins slowly, side-stepping to avoid an incoming hazard––a pair of students, arms tangling in the strangest angles, twisting and grasping and yelling. it’s times like this that has ryou briefly questioning the intellect of most of these cohorts. then again, nothing fuels pride quite like alcohol does, and this bunch has plenty of both. ) i’ll be willing to fight for many things, but a house pin isn’t one of them. besides, we both know you would’ve gotten what you came for one way or another.

(` it’s just as he’s thought; his lowered inhibitions are no match for her skilful fingers. there’s amusement in the laugh that follows, and he doesn’t take the pin just yet, leaving it in her hold. ) i was hoping for something a little less violent and sounds a little less like we’re re-enacting sailor moon. (` not that anyone’s watching per se, but just in case. ) but it doesn’t seem too bad actually. (` holds his fists up in a stance, voice pressed in a hushed tone. ) go, quickly. (` gestures with a slight nod towards the opposite direction, before he’s raising his voice a tad. ) you put that down right now, im nayeon.

#rmnayeon #( * of the night. )

of the night. @rmnayeon

(` the banging of drums pounds against his chest, and his head is starting to feel light in the midst of it all. ryou thinks it has something to do with the highly suspicious drink in his hand that’s likely to have stopped being just apple juice some refills ago. three full years and going onto his fourth––he reckons some things are just not meant to be knocked into habits. )

(` except rules are rules; the effort of going against the sturdy system that most of his fellow legacy mates appear to enjoy ( indulge in, even, like an alternate lifestyle, an alter ego ) just doesn’t seem worthy. it’s not entirely unbearable, the cause is simply lost on him for the most part; after all, there must be good reasons why adrianne and everyone else gets this hyped up by parties and games and all things unnecessarily loud. )

(` when he lifts his gaze, it’s to a familiar figure, a smile he recognises––always with the witty words and nimble hands; he responds with one of his own, almost involuntarily, eyes in droopy crescents––lowered inhibitions from drinks that have been tasting funny. he’s crouching slightly, leaning his ear closer when prompted, for the message she comes bearing. )

grab an extra pin? (` comprehension comes belatedly, gradually, brows slightly furrowed at the strange concept. of course the party wouldn’t be complete without some ruggedness tossed into the mix. the agenda is clear: one can only be on either side of the outcome, and ryou opts for the simple way out as per always. ) you can have mine. (` a hand’s stuffed into his pocket where the pin is––or was just half a minute ago. revelation has the pieces falling into places, and he trails off towards the end of the sentence, before musing, tone pressed into a hushed one this time when he speaks again. ) but first, i’m going to need it back. and secondly, most importantly, make it look like i put up a good fight.

#rmnayeon #( * of the night. )#rm: monster rush

rmtaejoon-blog

.FIND YOUR MANTRA

rmryou-blog

rmtaejoon:

` @rmryou

Finally, he was alone.

The dead of night, nothing but crickets and cicadas making their presence known amongst the silence. Taejoon had far too much trouble with finding a reasonable training area, where nobody would interrupt his training no matter how horrid it looked or how painful it sounded. He had to endure the feeling of bone stretching and moving under his skin.

He has to grow comfortable the fact that he has to puncture his skin and allow for the wound to worsen when he adds more calcium and osteoclast cells. Then from there he has to be able to move, and ideally be able to fight.

Highest expectations come from himself, nothing too unexpected from a full time soldier.

Pushing himself too far with the wrong goal in mind, again, nothing too unexpected.

But after going through his routine of mixed martial arts, he couldn’t help but find that the pain was a little — too painful (if it were at all possible). Once he looked down, he noticed heavy bruising and just enough blood to raise concern. Taejoon stopped and turned back to go find his First Aid kid but upon turning around, he saw a silhouette. He couldn’t even find anything distinct, other than the fact that they had a pair of hands.

“ H-Help — ” Taejoon’s voice was weak, his knees gave in and he fell to the grass and gasped for air. He tried to retract the exposed bone, but found it way to painful upon the first try.

No matter how many times he felt physical pain, they all felt new. They all felt just as bad as the last one with a little more malice.

He rolled onto his back and reached out a hand as if to silently beg God to help him, again.

it’s not always easy to draw space from within a setting that appears to prioritise social settings and all things loud and prideful. when the weight of necessities crashes into responsibilities, the only thing he needs then is that space.

the spots change accordingly. sometimes it’s behind one of the older buildings, sometimes it’s in a lecture hall that the security guard’s forgotten to lock up; it depends. the only rule: with his mind’s tendency to re-create vivid scenes from cliche horror movies for himself, he’s made it a habit to find a spot outdoors after dark. he reckons it has something to do with the flight instinct that’s pushing the safety button.

the warning signs are all there: the pop-up reminders at 20% and 10%, conveniently looked past while he has his earbuds in, unconcerned and distracted. the playlists are not his own, but the songs are to his liking so he figures he’ll stick with them. at one of his personal favourites, the chorus heightens the emotions before it’s cut abruptly, and then it’s complete silence that leaves a quiet ringing in his ears and a black screen in his hand. might as well.

earphones stuffed sloppily into a pocket along with his phone, he stands from the bench to leave, but he barely gets two steps away from his spot when he hears it. or no, him, someone––a voice? stance wary and steps stealthy, he moves towards the source of the voice with half the mind focused on a silent prayer.

with the other’s figure barely hidden by the medium length grass, there’s a hand extended and a trembling voice from which ryou can hardly make out the pleas for help. “oh my god…” revelation has him pushing limbs forth towards the other, dropping to a knee when ryou reaches him. a ghastly sight, and a breath hitches at the back of his throat, “oh my god––”

he finds the other seemingly twisted in agony, and for good reasons: a protruding bone from patches of bruised skin, green and purple amidst the pool of crimson and for god’s sake what happened to this kid… man… person. the questions are saved for later. for now, ryou has to make sure the guy lives. “breathe, breathe, okay? keep breathing––can you hear me?” he shifts his weight onto both knees, the scent of iron pungent amidst that of mud and grass. deep inhales, the other’s hand is grabbed tightly in his before he’s forcing his thoughts into one point of convergence––that damn bone and the skin that splits around it. except god is he distracted by the pained and strained sounds, along with the probability that this person might bleed to death in his hands. fear has him in a chokehold: he can’t have that.

he ( barely ) succeeds at the third try, desperation working the odds in his favour. fingers immediately grabbing ahold of the other’s wrist, he checks for the pulse signals. there’s a crack in his voice despite his attempts at a composed demeanour, the slight quiver in his voice isn’t wholly muted when he speaks again.“look, look at me––i can’t heal this and you can’t move. was this stuck in you or––” ( he’s fucking terrified. ) “... or did this come from you?”

#( * find your mantra. )#rmtaejoon

prologue: of memories. @rmadrianne

( summer, 2016. kobe. )

it begins with a casual remark, and a month later they’re both packed, hauling luggages of three weeks’ worth through a wooden door frame. a revisitation of his childhood years––the trip down memory lane that’s initially intended for himself is now shared with another, and he finds he doesn’t mind it all that much.

***

“oh, ryou? i had the shed repainted last month, go take a look when you get the chance to,” a pause, and ryou thinks he knows what’s coming next. “bring her with you, too.”

bingo.

“yeah, okay.”

***

i almost died there doesn’t seem too apt as an invitation to the shabby looking shed that is his father’s work space, so he settles for the particular shared interest between the two––handiwork, of some sort. surprisingly, there’s little hesitation found in his voice when he speaks; a seemingly mindless invite and a jaunty hum of acceptance effortlessly dismissing any trace of doubt on ryou’s end. after all, it is one of the few constants in ryou’s memories of his childhood, and recounting those days with another is a distant idea that he hasn’t quite considered prior to this trip. that and, his dad has been nagging since they got here.

( on hindsight, he isn’t wholly sure what he’s worried about. )

it’s uncertain if the glossy coat of colour brings him comfort or unfamiliarity, or both, but one thing for sure is that it’s strange. the shed has been rebuilt and revamped one too many times, with almost everything in it replaced right after the little mishap. ‘it’s about time anyway’, except ryou knows the elder’s main concerns lie with him ( always ) –– the remodelling following almost immediately after his discharge from all those years ago, just to keep him from a complete withdrawal into the shell that is trauma, an effort done with genuine consideration and ryou decides back then that it’ll not be futile. the visits remain, and it’s still afternoons on end spent in the shed on certain days, except now he stays alert.

the familiar ( and still bare ) wooden toy train is sitting on one of the lower shelves, just where he thinks he’s remembered it to be––one of the few items his dad’s thankfully managed to retrieve. it’s as though the man still thinks ryou wouldn't be able to reach it otherwise. he’s right though, partially––it's definitely out of reach, just in a different direction now.

“adri?” he calls out absentmindedly while examining the piece of work, thumb lightly rubbing at a spot that turns out to be dust. “how good are you with colour schemes?” the question is largely rhetorical, and in any case, everyone’s art sense seems to be better than his for some reason. “i keep forgetting to paint this… help me out or i might end up butchering it, and you know how creepy thomas the train is. i don’t want that.” a light furrow of the brows before he’s shuffling over to stand next to her, gesturing with the train model wedged in both hands and an inquiring gaze.

#rmadrianne #( * prologue: of memories. )

hello everyone! super excited to be here with this lil’ nerd. here’s some basic profile stats and his app, but there’s the tldr... ish... version below the cut for the lazy beans like myself. i don’t have exact plots at the moment ( though i do have some relations for him ), but i’m down for plotting so hit me with your craziest :^) i’m usually on tumblr im’s or @jei#9623 if discord is more convenient.

fair warning, huge ramble ahead: