rising。

Luo Zhixiang [ Show ] 37 | Vampire Physiology | "All is vanity, nothing is fair."

[advxjennie-blog]

true fans never die: kjn&lzx!

[advzhixiang-blog]

advxjennie:

He doesn’t pull back.

He doesn’t pull back.

Omigosh, omigosh, omigosh—

She’s trying her hardest to maintain her composure, but her all time bias is here, holding her hand, and he’s not retracting it. How else is she supposed to react other than letting out the occasional squeal and blushing beet red?

She hangs onto every word he utters—every alphabet, if possible—and notes that his words roll off his tongue smoothly like honey. He is everything she had ever dreamed of and more. She’s convinced that her long-running worship of Zhixiang did not go to waste.

Rapid nods follow shortly after his answer to her question, and a loud gasp escapes her lips before her sweaty palms regrettably leave his hands to clamp over her lips. He likes to sit by the counter, just like her. Jennie cannot believe this is happening; it’s like the universe is moving the stars to spell out ‘soulmates’ in outer space.

“I— I like—”—God, what are words?—“counter!”

She angles her head back and forth, from Zhixiang to the waitress, and thankfully, the waitress understands her through her babble, because soon enough, they’re led towards a table by the counter. Jennie tries to stop herself from fidgeting in her seat, but naturally, she’s a little too nervous to do so. (She’s so nervous, she forgets to spit out her drink order of iced mocha with whipped cream the second she’s seated.) In the end, she gives up and her fingers reach forth to grab his hands in hers, and she asks sincerely, “oppa, I’ve never stopped believing that you are the greatest model of all time! You practically made the job! Everyone at school stopped liking you because they thought you were— that you…”

She dips her head in embarrassment. Although she’s not at all repelled by the idea of murder—in fact, she fell in love with him even more because of it—she knows that some people are, and she’s afraid that he’ll think less of her if she reveals her appetite for human life. But she needs to know, and so she simply shakes her head and soldiers on.

“I still love you after all this time, oppa! All your true fans do! Oppa, where did you go? I forgive you no matter what, but I just— it makes me angry thinking that you had to give up being a model because of stupid gossip!” she says spitefully, her features morphing to one of anger, but she quickly shakes it off—she can’t let him see this side of her, not yet, “I hope you lived a good life after all of that, oppa. You deserve everything the world has to offer! And more!”

And she starts tearing up again, “you’ve made me so much happier just because you exist. If someone took your happiness from you… I will… I will kill them.”

(Perhaps what she says sounds like ramblings of an obsessed fan, but Jennie’s threats bear more weight simply because of what she does in her pastime. Make no mistake: if anyone lays a finger on Zhixiang with ill intent, Jennie can and will hurt them and everyone they love.)

There’s a stark difference between the two of them, even as they stand - one presents bubbling nervousness, while the other remains entirely calm. Zhixiang maintains said demeanor even as an answer is awaited from Jennie’s end, pushing back the thought of his own order having gone cold by now; he would order another, which isn’t necessarily something that he is pleased with, but it’s the only option that he is left with.

Inevitably, the answer comes and the two of them are taken by the waitress to the counter and are left to occupy two of the vacant seats before any request for an order is asked about. In spite of the slow pace at which things seem to go, the smile never falters from the waitress’ lips - this is something that Zhixiang both admires and finds amusing, knowing well enough how annoyance manifests itself behind such acts due to foolish customers. “I’ll have a caffè Americano, please,” his arm which held onto the bag with the previous order is held out, the item awaiting to be taken by the waitress. It’s done so without any other exchange of words, just by a few looks shared in between the two - there wasn’t any need to say much, not when the waitress was the one who served him beforehand.

With the order jotted down and a quick glance cast towards Jennie, the waitress announces that she’ll come by later to take her order too and then turns around to take her leave. Zhixiang’s eyes follow the woman’s figure as she distances herself, though not for long, because his hand is captured by Jennie’s again and his attention immediately turns towards the girl. He smiles, remains silent and listens to the words of praise that are being laid out for him - Jennie’s gushing and that, he finds amusing as well. That is, up until a certain topic gets touched up on, making the smile fade from the elder’s lips.

His expression grows rigid, just as he grows stone cold. Fingers twitch slightly in Jennie’s hold and he fights the urge to draw his hand back, to tell her off about bringing up such a topic in public. Truthfully, it isn’t being in public that even bothers Zhixiang much, rather the topic being brought up in such a manner - there is concern shown, Jennie means well in her very own way and yet the act leaves a bitter taste in his mouth.

He can almost feel the metallic taste of blood from that accursed day, almost.

“Do you find it an easy topic to speak about?” his inquiry awaits no answer, even if Jennie’s lips part to deliver it. Zhixiang cuts to the chase before anything is said, speaks up in a tone that is cold, distant - far from the one he maintained before, “Because it isn’t.” A heavy sigh is let out, his hands snaking its way out of Jennie’s hold only to be brought alongside the other. Fingers lace together against the surface of the counter and Zhixiang’s posture shifts - he’s more stiff, up-tight even. “There are things that I don’t wish to speak of, I don’t believe I would have to explain to you why,” he offers, inhaling deep - there is an impending headache coming, he’s certain of it.

“I appreciate your concern, Jennie. It is flattering to hear that you were able to stand by my side even in–” again, the bitter taste resurfaces and it’s hard not to grimace by now, “Those darker times. However, I would much prefer that we discuss something different,” selecting a topic isn’t hard, not when a person gets the chance to meet their idol - how often does that happen as casually as this, anyway? “I am sure you have a lot of curiosities aside from that, so you may ask me whatever you like. In turn, I will ask a few things of you too.”

[advjingoo]

Night Out | ZhiXiang & Jin Goo

[advzhixiang-blog]

advjingoo:

Jin Goo nods slightly, “Yes yes, alcohol addiction and all that,” he waves it away, “Relaaaax, I don’t do this often.” He’s visited the bar for drinks perhaps two weeks ago? Yes, it must’ve been two weeks before prior.

He makes a face at the suggestion, as though offended, “I know all about the services these clubs offer. Did you have to charge extra if you want separate beds?” He completely misunderstands the initial meaning and takes it to mean something different. “And this isn’t that kind of bar,” he gestures around, “I think you’re thinking of clubs.” The rest of his glass goes down easily, leaving a trail of warm fire blazing down his throat.

“What are you doing here all by yourself?” he questions, unsure if he’s asked before, but asking again just in case. “Are you drinking away your pain?” He’s half joking because it seemed that was what a lot of people did, but also a little genuinely concerned as well, because that wasn’t a fate that he would like for himself, and he tended to be more openly empathetic while under the influence.

Zhixiang won’t deny that he is mildly surprised that his attempt at having a laugh at Jin Goo’s expense seems to take a turn. The younger male might have more a grip onto himself than assumed – even when he’s intoxicated, he doesn’t seem to be completely gone. Could it be that he wrongly placed judgment? The possibility of that seemed more plausible as their questions and answers were exchanged and, had he not been in great control of his expression, his lips would’ve formed into a pout; a mark of disappointment at the way his plan failed.

“Perhaps you do. Though I believe it varies from one place to another,” some of the content of his glass is drowned down, leaving the container filled half-way. Gaze runs astray, eyes settling on the red liquid which remained into the glass; silence settles momentarily between the two of them, though it’s easily drowned out by the loud music in the locale. A look is cast at Jin Goo, quick and fugitive, before an answer is given, “Not really, no.” there was no pain to be drank away, even if the question was asked in a joking manner rather than a serious one.

“It sometimes helps to have a change of scenery,” Zhixiang’s head turns to the side as that is said, a look of surveillance being cast around the room. “Keeps things from getting monotonous, you know? Besides…” words trail off and his gaze settles back onto Jin Goo, lips curving into the faintest of smirks, “You never really know what you’re bound to find in places like these.” A chuckle sounds up, though it’s muffled by the noise in the background, “Better yet, I should say who and not what.”

[advzhixiang-blog]

settling arrangements ;

[advzhixiang-blog]

advyongsun:

Polite, yet to the point – already Yongsun finds herself appreciative of her company’s mannerisms, from the way he holds himself to how he distinguishes business with clear and purposeful intent. She’s quite the impatient sort whenever she’s interrupted from whatever task she’d been tending to – to forego all the idle small talk is the smartest way to keep her as pleasant company rather than harsh, and he waltzed onto the path with such a natural ease that she’s inclined to believe that he’s good at getting what he wants.

She’ll be the judge of how true that sentiment is soon enough.

The door is opened a bit more, enough so that he’d be capable of stepping in once she shifts to the side. Had it been a random, unimportant messenger, she would have simply turned her back if not leave them in the hall entirely, but no, not this one; she recognizes admirable traits in him and she’s interested on that front alone, even without the additional promise of her time being well-spent. His words are something like honey, drawing her full attention with the sweetness it assures – not to mention that he’s certain to have a place of respect if he knows how to approach someone like her in such a way, bringing something to the table before asking anything of her.

It only makes her curious, really, to see what it is he wants and what he’s willing to give to get it.

“You may come in,” she states, cool as ever despite the newfound gleam in her eyes. “I would assume that if you’ve come to me in particular for something you desire, you have already conducted an appropriate amount of research to see that I am capable of providing it, no?” The door shuts behind him with a light sound, and she turns to him, gaze passively anticipating. “What might that be?”

Progress is steady, but Zhixiang is no less content with it; being granted entrance into the apartment was only half of the completion of the task which he came here for. “Of course I have,” there is little point in concealing such a detail, especially when it serves to help both of them get through with the conversation quicker, so the admittance gets made when he steps inside.

Hands hold at the small of his back as the hallways is given a one-over – it looked no different from the state in which his own was at the very beginning, prior to redecorating and refurnishing it. The only noticeable differences were marked by softer contrasts of colors here and there, though the walls remained predominantly white. Details such as these remain past the point of interest, so they are cast aside in favor of the actual reason behind the visit.

“I happen to have learned that you show interest in conducting experiments of various kinds with medicine – making research, if you will. It was between those lines that my attention was caught,” a short pause is made as a nod is given, “I am certain that in order to assess and keep track of the results obtained, you require external aid. And among the things which you might find yourself doing, blood tests are likely required from subjects, yes? That is what my request revolves around, although at a… larger scale.”

Zhixiang’s head tips to the side a slight, allowing a moment or two of silence to fall in between the two of them; even if the information he relayed was not heavy, it needed to be portioned and not given out all at once. With the ghost of a smile playing on his lips, the vampire furthers the request, “What I ask of you is a weekly supply of blood. Two bags are normally sufficient, but a third or even fourth might be required under certain circumstances – that, I hope you understand,” once more, he allows a small pause to settle in before the final and most important detail of their bargain is added, “In return, I will offer anything which you desire. Supplies, adequate equipment or anything else that you might require at any given point in time.”

[advyongsun-blog]

♛ a play of favoritism.

[advzhixiang-blog]

advyongsun:

hyejin.

Fortunately, Hyejin did not push the matter further before she slid into an empty seat on the couch and idly tapped the pads of her fingers together. “Yeah! So I was actually born in an rural village out by the coasts, but once I graduated from high school I decided to move to the city because I thought it would be fun! It was new and different, but I really like it here now. I didn’t really find out about my power until the Foundation told me, and I’m really grateful for that. I’m not very good at controlling it, you know?” Her expression turned guilty as she wiggled her fingers, as if the vague gesture could relay her feelings and intentions. “I think I’ve gotten a bit better, though!”

Keyword being think.

@advyongsun

Fingers curl around the doorknob after a long acquaintance with her mirror, opening it with purposeful intent. Her purse, carrying her usual necessities along with a bottle of pain medication (she’s prepared to deal with a headache by the end of this), rests in the crook of her arm as she steps out, ready from head to toe ─ it’s as casual as she ever allows herself to be on outings.

“We may go now,” she announces, looking over at the two. “Though I won’t be opposed if you’d rather stay and chat.”

@advzhixiang​

The minutes tick by and Zhixiang’s conversation with Hyejin furthers. Information is swapped between the two of them, sometimes more substantial and other times minimal; it was never a bad thing to keep certain things to oneself, after all. Not much needed to be disclosed as it was, just the important parts that would lead to uncovering exactly why Hyejin would be of use - gratitude once more goes to his beloved associate for making such a hint.

In the time that Yongsun takes to prepare for the event, Zhixiang deems himself successful in obtaining the important piece of information about Hyejin, respectively what her ability was. A mental note is made for further notice, since one might never know when such an ability would come to use; it would do well for the woman to gain better control over it, too, so later sounds favorable from that aspect too.

It takes a couple more minutes before the door to Yongsun’s room is swung open, the woman in mention emerging from within the chamber. Zhixiang’s gaze gravitates towards her as if on cue, and a smile doesn’t hesitate to form upon his lips; he’s easily satisfied with the way in which the medical specialist looks, and allows said thoughts to be voiced out. “Unfortunately, I find that it might be best for us to be on our way,” the distance between them is closed by a few steps and his arm is held out towards the other, “You look lovely, by the way.”

With Yongsun’s arm laced with his own, the pair are the first to step out of the apartment, followed behind by Hyejin - it fell into her hands to lock the door, but the task hardly set her back from the other two for long. It was due to her excitement that events unfolded at a unexpectedly rapid pace, seeing that the car ride towards the haunted house lasted a surprisingly short amount of time. It makes one wonder if this was pure luck or if something else tampered with the events of that evening.

Luck is relative and, just like time, it eventually runs out. A smooth drive, laughter and cheerfulness don’t guarantee a good experience, which is proven by the way a sudden turn of event occurs. Any trace of happiness is erased and replaced by fear, which gets driven deep into the hearts of the people gathered in the hallway of the mansion, all under the reign of terror of a group of madmen.

@advxhyejin​

[advzhixiang-blog]

prologue ;

[advzhixiang-blog]

advxminhyuk:

(...)

“Again, man. Not a concern. There ain’t no dog in the world smarter than Bulgogi is. He won’t ever have any accidents, least I doubt it. He never has before! He even knows how t’ let himself out!” He chuckle. Bulgogi is sitting next to him- paying less attention to the conversation. “Oh! And uhhh… I just wanted t’ let ya’ know that I work nights. So I’ll try t’ be quiet if you’re like… sleeping or whatever. Bulgogi comes with me sometimes, but if he doesn’t there might be a day or two where I’ll leave a note for you to put some food out for him, if that’s okay.”

He pets the dog’s head again. He almost swears the Bulgogi is giving Show some sort of weird look, but that doesn’t make a lot of sense. The dog’s tongue lolls out and Minhyuk just smiles. He’s probably dumber than the dog, really. 

There is something incredibly unappealing in the love shared between a man and their pet, marked by the dumb babbling that people do whenever speaking to their companions – it’s distasteful and, as stated before, dumb. Of course, such information is kept to the elder and does not make it out in any form or manner; not that Minhyuk could pick up any of it when his attention is directed entirely at the dog, at least not unless it was openly verbalized.

“I see, I see. Then I don’t suppose that we will have any problems in that regard,” rigidity fades and softness seeps through in the form of a smile, small and polite. “Stick it to the refrigerator with one of the magnets and I’ll be sure to feed him. Just make sure to include time and portion size, because I don’t want to make assumptions over what’s fine and what isn’t.” the dog was not his, after all, so this kind of approach only felt normal.

What felt out of place was the look which the dog cast him – was it glaring at him? The vampire couldn’t help but be amused, internally that is. Perhaps Bulgogi truly was a one-of-a-kind dog or perhaps Minhyuk failed to take notice of a very important detail related to his four-legged friend. The latter seemed like a more plausible explanation.

The previous mention of work is what has Zhixiang’s expression light up considerably – there is a gleam in his eyes as curiosity bubbles inside of him. “You mentioned work, yes? I hope you don’t mind me asking, but where exactly do you work or what do you work as?” and there goes curiosity, possibly backed up by some desire to poke fun at the younger; it’s perfectly concealed, of course.

[advkyungsoo]

» dandelion.

[advzhixiang-blog]

advkyungsoo:

Usually, if it were anyone else, Kyungsoo would’ve snorted at the question and probably had a snarky retort to that but then it’s Zhixiang and he knows a Kyungsoo that the dragon mutant has been pushing down for so long or maybe because the older is digging out a past that Kyungsoo doesn’t like to think about but it’s still something that he holds dearly, from a time that he’d give up almost everything to have back and maybe that’s why Kyungsoo opens up so easily, maybe that’s why that he lets his icy walls down for a moment since they have no meaning on the older male has already been inside anyway. “Yeah.” He says even though he feels small, like he’s ten years old again ( sans the stupid crush ) and having something alike to not even an older brother, but a friend that he doesn’t have to pretend to be tough with. 

The dragon mutant wants to say more, tell him about all the things that has changed and how sometimes the last thing that he feels is alright and how it’s hard to try to not care about people that you certainly do ( and maybe talk about how annoying his roommate is and that he has been this close to roasting them alive just too many times to be a healthy relationship ), but Kyungsoo has always been someone who likes privacy and it isn’t what the common area offers him now so he stays quiet instead, looking around for a moment. It’s still quiet and no one is to be seen, but then anyone could just show up at any moment and Kyungsoo would rather not have eavesdroppers around when he’s spilling out things that he has probably not even told his younger brother much less his mom ( and obviously keeps them to himself for a reason ).

Like Zhixiang reads his mind, he proposes a more private talk, something more fitting for the personal topics that they want to talk about, and Kyungsoo perks up with it. “That would be wonderful, yes.” He agrees without even blinking his eyes and then the slight blush is back to his cheeks because he hopes that he didn’t sound too eager. Kyungsoo clears his throat and closes his book. “Shall we go?” 

If he looks amused, then it’s not by fault; Zhixiang is endeared by Kyungsoo and the way he replies, by how eagerness seeps into the younger’s words, in spite of clear efforts of trying to maintain a calm demeanor. Some things truly never change, but that is where their beauty lies and, secretly, he is thankful that this is a thing which he gets to savor just as he had done many times in their younger years. If anything, the younger male is a breath of fresh air in the midst of all these events.

“Of course, let us be on our way,” he announces while sliding off the armrest of the couch, the cup of coffee still residing in his hand. The drink might’ve gotten a bit cold during the time that the two of them exchanged those few words, so the elder made a mental note to warm it up as soon as the two of them reach his dorm. With a nod of the head cast in the direction of the elevator, the elder turns swiftly and begins to walk in said direction, exiting the communal area and crossing into the hallway where the lift would be found. A look is cast over his shoulder to check that Kyungsoo was following; a smile resurfaces on his lips when he lays sight onto the other.

In reality, the elder didn’t need to look back to know that Kyungsoo was there, since his ability allowed him to be aware of one too many things going on in his surrounding area. He did it, still – all because the younger was a sight for sore eyes to behold. It takes the two roughly three minutes to arrive to the top floor of the Male Hall, and then another minute to arrive at Zhixiang’s dorm. “Don’t be shy and make yourself at home,” he says as soon as the two of them step inside, motioning with his free hand towards the other so that he closes the door behind him. O

nce shoes get swapped with slippers, the vampire moves in the kitchen with the intention to first warm up his beverage before settling down comfortably with the other – he figures that it should be announced, though. “Don’t mind me, I’ll just be warming up my coffee. Feel free to settle in the living room, if you’d like. Ah, also—“ the idea hits him last minute, and he swears that amusement overcomes him due to how chatty he is all of a sudden. “Would you like tea or water? I ran out of coffee, which is why you saw me lingering around in the commons.”

Truly, he wouldn’t have bothered hanging around downstairs otherwise.

[advzhixiang-blog]

reconcile ;

[advzhixiang-blog]

advzitao:

He’s not exactly in control of the way his body moves the moment Show actually touches him. It’s like the remaining strength he had all leaves at once and he’s grabbing at Show’s shirt for even the slightest amount of stability. His legs are weak and he gasps ever so slightly. The water is getting to be too much even with it gone. Memories of tortures are flashing through his head fast enough to make him even dizzier and he hardly processes that Show is speaking to him at all. There’s so much blood. He feels disgusting… How disgusted Show must be to see him like this.

Keep reading

The moment the situation begins to get considerably shakier, Zhixiang shifts hi gaze away from Zitao. The urge to breathe out a sigh is fought against, given the nature of the situation – it wouldn’t mark worry, rather exasperation. This was not the time to stall into the hallway, regardless of how many few others resided on the 5th floor of the Male Dorms; there was a mess left behind that required cleaning and above that, Zitao’s wounds were in a no better state.

“Zitao,” the elder’s voice is cold, callous just as his hands are when they reach for the younger male’s hands; there is nothing soft in the act, just a tight grip and a stone-cold gaze that could pierce through the soul of another. “This is not the time, neither is it the place for all this. You are sorry and I understand,” there’s a need to punctuate that last word, to leave it linger and hang in the air for a few moments more before the speech is resumed, “But I need you to see that being out in the open will do neither one of us any good.”

His own hands try to pry away the younger mutant’s from his head, in hopes of avoiding a worse outcome for the situation. The breath from before finds its way out, exasperation evidently present as fingers uncurl themselves from around bloodied hand. Zhixiang’s eyes remain colored crimson and he dreads it; he hates how strong of a grip his ability has onto him, how it has the potential to make him so weak if he doesn’t get proper sustenance. Yet even when he’s well fed, it’s bound to act up – who is even in control, here?

He is, he has to be—he absolutely needs to be.

A guttural growl sounds up as the elder crouches down to the other’s level, a sign of protest to the thoughts that flood through his mind – harmless, harnessed by nothing other than his will. Had Zhixiang not been in control of himself, had he not been able to keep his behavior in check then he wouldn’t be able to pick up Zitao either. But he does, he picks the blond mutant up swiftly and, just as swiftly, he steps into the safety of the apartment. The door is pushed shut by a nudge of the foot and then the younger male is brought directly into the bathroom.

An hour and a half later, the mess is gone both from the building complex and from the dorm and Zitao is seated onto the foot of Zhixiang’s bed, bandaged up and dressed with one of the elder’s house robes. With his back pressed to the closed door of his room and arms folded together, the vampire looks towards his visitor – to his associate, as the blond male would often get referred to as. There are no words spoken but that doesn’t make the atmosphere heavy; on the contrary, it feels oddly light. Now, all that the elder had to do was wait for an explanation to be given in a proper manner – he wasn’t rushing to obtain one, that was certain.

[advzhixiang-blog]

commotion ;

@advyerim

As a person that runs on a fixed schedule, Zhixiang habitually finds himself revolving around the same places when it’s lunchtime – it’s this café, that one or the other. Meals are always light, accompanied by a cup of coffee, which varies depending on what he feels like having; today, he settles on trying one of the locale’s newer additions, respectively a Caffè Misto. The name was all that it held to it, as it was otherwise a regular coffee mixed with milk – it was the freshly ground coffee beans that offered it a different, stronger aroma from the usual, but it hardly stood out among other favorites of his.

The moment that he is done and the consumption is paid for, the man readies himself up to leave; buttons up his coat, slides the scarf around his neck and, lastly, puts on a pair of shades for caution. Although he was far from declaring himself a fan of winter, the season did come with its benefits. What exactly were they? Not many, truth be told, but the fact that he was no longer required to wear a facial mask to conceal himself and, could wear a scarf instead, felt good for a change.

With a final salute directed at the workers of the café, he saw himself out the door and towards his car. Or, that was his initial plan, which suddenly got disrupted by the sound of screaming coming from the nearby surroundings. His head’s on a swivel, turning towards the direction from which the noise came from – he didn’t need to come any closer, since his fine sense of hearing aided him in figuring out what the cause of the commotion was: a snake. Curious that such a creature would be hanging around town at a time like this, when the weather is cold and the sun is blocked out by clouds of grey; it becomes less so, to an individual that knows of the secrets which some people carry.

That was not a regular snake, it was a mutant.

Nostalgia hits for a moment, marked by a silent exhale of the breath at the recollection of memories with a favored individual at Daybreak; unfortunately, he was no longer around. However, even with the male’s departure, another one of his kind appeared – similar in mutation, hopefully not in behavior – and this serves as a good enough reason for the elder to switch up his direction and head towards the place where all of this started; he isn’t one to dwell on regret over people leaving, after all.

Behind the folds of his scarf, a devious smile overtakes Zhixiang’s lips; he didn’t plan to return to Daybreak empty-handed.

[advyongsun-blog]

♛ a play of favoritism.

[advzhixiang-blog]

advyongsun:

There’s many things that Yongsun could theoretically say in response to the entire situation unfolding before her, but she keeps complaints gracefully under her tongue, opting to share a look with the elder male instead. It reads off everything she means it to: there’s no way in hell that she’s interested in a place like a haunted house, but there are reasons behind her decisions, and she knows well that trusting Zhixiang to understand that those reasons are not without fruitless gain was better than bothering to explain.

Maybe she will, later, once Hyejin isn’t found clinging to her so desperately. 

A pleasant shade slips onto her expression at his offer; he’s as reliable as people tend to come nowadays, whether or not he’d placed himself in a position that owed such on his own. “I would be thankful if you did, yes. I was not quite looking forward to waiting for such.”

If it’s not clear that Yongsun’s not nearly in as much of an excited rush as Hyejin seems to be (quite the opposite, in fact), it’s certainly obvious in the way the specialist takes her time in heading to her room. “I’ll be ready shortly, if you do not mind. Had I expected to spend the night in a place not my own, I would have dressed more appropriately in advanced.” She barely pauses when she opens her door, giving an additional statement before slipping behind it: “Perhaps you two can get to know each other in the time I take. It should not be too long.”

(Had she been even the slightest bit more aware of what the night was destined to entail, perhaps she would have made different choices in her attire ─ if she had still agreed to go at all.)

@advzhixiang

There is clear difference that stands out in the reactions which the two women convey – one is bubbling with excitement, whereas the other’s reaction resides in the very opposite spectrum. Nonetheless, a decision has been taken in regards of the outing for that evening and there was no room left to backtrack on it; the older pair both know it, just as they intuitively know that playing along and going with Hyejin’s request would lead to a bountiful reward later on. This was equivalent exchange, after all.

“By all means, do take your time.” There is a lack of emphasis on the final part of the sentence, though there hardly is any reason for it to be there; Yongsun would pick up on the meaning behind the casual reassurance, just as Zhixiang did with her suggestion.

As the door to the medical specialist’s room is pushed shut, the elder’s gaze settles back onto Hyejin, which he allows himself to bask in the presence of for a short while – to admire the woman in all her splendor, now that she was standing and he could have a proper look at her. That’s not to say that he didn’t find her posture from before to be fitting, but that is a detail that he rightfully chooses to keep to himself.

“I must admit that I am both pleasantly surprised and intrigued by our sudden meeting, Hyejin-ah. Nevertheless, an acquaintance of Yongsun’s is one of mine,” the smile still resides on his lips and his expression is kept friendly, even though his mind already runs over several options on how to further the conversation. “Tell me a bit about yourself,” specifications are purposely left out, simply to avoid hitting any kind of sensitive topic and thus risking to spoil the plan.

@advxhyejin

[advxjennie-blog]

true fans never die: kjn&lzx!

[advzhixiang-blog]

advxjennie:

Is this really happening? An admittedly and unashamedly large portion of her whole life had been dedicated to her undying love for Zhixiang, but she had been so content with this one-sided obsession that she had never thought to expect anything in return. In both her daydreams and dreams that occur in REM sleep, her mind was always filled with the ‘shining moment she’ll finally meet her idol’ (of course, most of it consisted of him getting to his knees and proposing immediately after she came up to him, because she was his soulmate and he just knew), but she was neither delusional nor hopeful enough to believe that it would come true. Still, they never failed to give her that extra boost to carry out the rest of her day, almost like he was the proverbial light at the end of the dark tunnel.

But now, he knows her name. It rolled off his tongue like honey, and she decided then and there that the only thing she’d ever be thankful to her wench of a mother for is her name.

(God, she can already hear wedding bells.)

To her, everything he says is law, and so she nods fervently at his explanation, and the nods quickly morph to headshakes when he thinks he’ll disappoint her. (The fact that he’s even walking on this planet proves that nothing he can do will ever disappoint her.)

“Oppa, I—”

And then her world comes to a screeching halt.

Did he just say what she thinks he said? Did he really, truly, just invite her in to… to sit across from the Zhixiang and learn how he takes his coffee, whether his pinky sticks out when he holds the handle of his teacup, if he’s even real?

(Would she?)

Jennie squeals and her arms mechanically move around his waist yet again, this time dropping her favourite poster—but who needs a picture when the real deal is in front of you? She can’t help herself; just as his pictures and videos were magnetising, so is his body, and Jennie’s arms are drawn by an unspeakable force. It lasts for a mere second, though, because a growing thought echoes within the confines of her mind, wondering if he’d get offended by her ill treatment of his beautiful face plastered on her favourite poster. She quickly picks it up, attempts—and fails miserably—to contain her emotions, then hugs the poster tight to her body.

“L-let’s go!” she urges, slim fingers reaching out to entwine with his large hands, and she doesn’t dare to look into his eyes in fear of how he’d react. Instead, with rosy cheeks and hands intertwined with Zhixiang’s, she drags him into the café that he had just exited.

And then comes the dilemma: where does he like to sit? Jennie’s always adored sitting right beside the counter, so that in the event of needing that extra cup of caffeine to start up her day, she could just shout out her order without wasting much energy. But what if he was the type who liked sitting in the dark corners? What if he liked sitting near the window, to enjoy the view?

She had once thought she knew everything about him, but now she realises she knows exactly nothing.

And so she halts in her step—her hands still clasped in his, of course—and she stutters, “o-oppa, where do you usually sit? I’ll sit there too!”

Were he not to have a good control of himself on all terms, then his expression would’ve surely betrayed him and Zhixiang would display clear signs of amusement – a smile, perhaps a chuckle would sound up as well. As it is, however, a smile does reside on his lips but it is nothing other than polite.

Silently, he observes Jennie’s reactions, every shift in her expression, the way that the girl’s eyes seem to light up as excitement overcomes her; as a result, a loud squeal leaves her lips as her arms fly around his waist for a second time. The poster which resided in her hands until then is left to drop to the ground, and although not half a care is given towards items such as those – they served a commercial purpose, nothing more – the elder finds himself arching an eyebrow nonetheless.

Needless to say, those that passed them by cast glances towards the two. Whispers left the lips of some, giggles did so with others – Zhixiang doesn’t care to check precisely, because his focus is on getting back inside instead of lingering out any longer. One fan was enough and he knew that it was a matter of time until others would risk getting drawn in; they flock just like birds of prey. Rare as encounters with some of them might be, mostly due to his rapidly he moves around whenever he is present in town, today serves as positive proof that they weren’t entirely unavoidable.

Of course, no past meetings with fans compared to this, as neither one ever got the chance to properly express themselves as Jennie did. Hugs were always initiated by him during fan meetings or whatever other events, but never by fans; Jennie would be envied by many, would she be taken photographs of while she hugged Zhixiang or even now, as her hand slipped into his own. Oddly enough, he notes that it’s soft, delicate – much smaller in size than his, too – as his fingers delicately brush over skin while closing around her hand.

How many of his principles was he casting aside just for the sake of this charade? Zhixiang lost count.

The two of them make their way back into the café and although he left just minutes ago, the waitress smiles just as bright when he enters once again, greeting both the vampire and his newly acquired partner; the girl’s smile falters a slight at the sight of Jennie, he notices that too. Now, with the question of where he likes to sit being brought up, Zhixiang let out a thoughtful hum as his gaze fell onto his partner. “I prefer to sit a little further away from windows,” no further explanation needed to be relayed as to why, given that the reason behind such a choice was more than just self-explanatory, “So I tend to stick to the outer corners and, on some occasions, I’ll sit by the counter.”

Brown eyes rapidly dart over to the waitress, who was still waiting to lead the two of them to their seats - the smile present on her lips definitely looked forced at this point -  before a question of his own gets asked, “Which of the two would you prefer?”

Hopefully, it would not take much longer for the two of them to get seated, because Zhixiang fears that his drink has long gotten cold. Now, that would be a pity.

[advzhixiang-blog]

simple curiosities ;

@advjiyong

Curiosity doesn’t often prod at Zhixiang’s mind, at least not for long. He is a man that knows how to obtain answers in a timely manner, so he is never left to wonder about things for too long – in the situation at hand, the answer which he seeks would come in the course of that very day.

Truthfully, it wasn’t exactly an answer that he was seeking, rather a confirmation to his theories and assumptions made over the course of a few months – how awful would it be for him to assume something, only for it to be wrong? No chances would be taken. Initially, he was not suspicious of the canine companion which his roommate brought along, though that was not to last. There was something about that dog which made it stand out and, while that would normally be a thing to praise an owner about, this was no such case; Bulgogi’s ‘gift’ had absolutely nothing to do with training.

The vampire goes about his schedule as usual, tends to each and every single task but also makes sure to keep a close eye on Minhyuk’s doings; when the younger male would take a nap, he would try to satiate his curiosity. Such a time comes quicker than expected, so he moves away from the desk and heads towards the room of the other, quietly pushes the door open enough for his head to peek into the room. His eyes land on the desired target immediately and his arm’s brought past the door, motioning towards the canine companion to come over.

Once the message is received, Zhixiang removes himself from the door and returns to his room, occupying the seat at his desk; what he had in mind to do would hardly be distracting, so he glances over the opened documents while contemplating work. The door to his room is left open, of course, as was that of Minhyuk’s – it would get closed eventually, after all.

[advzhixiang-blog]

[advzhixiang-blog]

a small request ;

@jisooadv

To mark the completion of the tasks which had been laid out to be done for that day, Zhixiang finds himself driving to a café which he heard quite a bit about – it opened up recently and a lot of people enthused about it, saying that they didn’t only serve things at a decent price but the size of both food and drinks were far more consistent than what one would usually find in such places. Needless to say, his interest was picked in an instant, though time presented itself to be an issue. Nonetheless, later was always better than never.

Driving through town in between 4 PM and 6 PM, when everybody was coming off work was never pleasant; traffic jams were nobody’s favorite, but he is soothed by the thought of a warm cup of coffee and a nice meal that waited for him at the destination. The drive towards the café is prolonged by 40 minutes – 40 agonizing minutes which are forgotten the moment that the vampire sets foot into the locale. It was a nice, quaint place, though it didn’t have anything to make it stand out among some of the other places that he’s been at; in terms of furnishing and arrangement, that is.

From the entrance, he is greeted by one of the workers with a warm smile and an invitation to take seat at one of the vacant tables. The smile is returned, though it’s all kept to a professional level – it doesn’t border on anything else, as his interest was solely on the locale’s menu and not the thin, mousy girl that walked him to the table. A menu is handed to him as soon as Zhixiang is sat down and a quiet thank you is offered in exchange, fingers curling around the plastified pages as they are turned.

Now, it would be a lie to say that he was not a man that had expectations; whether or not they were set high was debatable. There are certain beverages that he expects to find on the menu, along with specific pastries, so he is pleased to notice that they are there and that, furthermore, there is a good variety in what the place has to offer. His order is placed in, consisting of a cup of americano coffee and two eggtarts – they will be the last element for him to assess before passing judgment to the café and its services. 

Until then, he sits and waits at the table, busying himself with answering a couple of text messages.

[advzhixiang-blog]

guilty pleasure ;

[advzhixiang-blog]

taeminadv:

(...)

Taemin pauses for just a second before glancing down in thought, letting his fingers wander up to brush lightly against Zhixiang’s; his statements are so simple, and yet, a complaint still rises to the front of Taemin’s mind. “Is that really true?” he mutters, not trying to sound disobedient. “Then what am I do to with those things people say and think? It’s not like I can simply escape the fact that people look at me and don’t see a human.” There’s a sadness in his eyes when he looks back up at the elder – a sort of desperation he’s not entirely aware of.

“Even if it’s what I do that makes me what I am, I still must face those people somehow – and all the things they see in me.” (And even then, if it’s his actions that make him – then what would Taemin’s actions say about him? He’s never put much thought into it – but would those not make him a monster, too?)

The question which he’s met with isn’t viewed as an act of defiance, rather it was expected. Even with infinite amount of reassurance that Zhixiang could offer Taemin, there was no certitude that everything would stick – that acceptance would come in the blink of an eye. It was an even harder task for one so different in appearance, regardless of how wonderful and lovely the elder found the siren to be; the regular person could not look past appearances.

Still, the elder’s voice remains soft and his hand doesn’t draw back. Even if comfort comes through gentle words and a soft touch, those were things which the younger should never go without; it’s the desperation in Taemin’s eyes which further enforces that. “As time passes you by, you learn to grow desensitized towards people’s words and actions,” he says, allowing his thumb to come and brush over the younger’s cheek for a second time. The movement is slow and gentle, as are the elder’s words, “You learn to accept yourself as you are, embrace every bit of your being. In the same lines, you then come to view everything that others consider a flaw to be an asset.”

Silence once more is an intermediate that is meant to allow Taemin to think things through, to reach his own conclusions. It strikes Zhixiang then and there that, in spite of the uncharacteristic way in which he attempts to reach out to the younger potential, the views and opinions that they have might not intersect. It pains him, almost, to think that the younger would never come to see himself for how he truly is – for the bountiful amounts of potential that lay within him, awaiting to be discovered. “You are not a monster, Taemin,” this is a statement which is firmly made, with gazes locked and the softness from before wavering, shifting just as the elder’s expression grows serious and rigid.

“And if you are, then so am I.”

[iheartshowlo]

[advxjennie-blog]

true fans never die: kjn&lzx!

[advzhixiang-blog]

advxjennie:

@advzhixiang

Jennie is the type who, in her youth, used to jump on the bed and play the air guitar to her favourite tune in her Mickey Mouse underwear, within the confines of a room decorated with posters of her favourite celebrities. The room of her teenage days had been a sanctuary for the many idols that she had worshipped, but right on top of the headboard was the model who she deemed was her ultimate bias. He was the person whose name Jennie would doodle, along with excessive love hearts, in her book in math class. The person who Jennie couldn’t think or talk about without earning a red tinge to her chubby cheeks, and the person who Jennie would, even in her old age, include as one of her ‘hall passes’, should she ever get into a monogamous relationship in the future.

He was—is—Luo Zhixiang.

God, even now, she’s blushing.

Jennie had worshipped him during the peak of his career, and stayed loyal regardless of the huge scandal that shook the fanclub. As a consequence of her unyielding loyalty, she had to cop a lot of gossip in school, most of them along the vein of ‘how typical it was of Jennie Kim to be in love with a monster’. (But no matter: Jennie had always been a bit of a brat—and a bit of a bully—so a couple of nerds criticising her bullying antics was what she’d call another day at work.)

Zhixiang had fallen off the face of the globe immediately after the scandal, and naturally, upon the manifestation of her powers, Jennie decided to do what every hard-core fan would do: she searched every crevice of the interweb, trying to find her idol. It hadn’t been easy, and his routine had been too sporadic for her to predict, so she’s never truly pursued him. (She’ll deny it for all her worth, but the underlying reason as to why she never tried to meet her idol in the flesh was also because deep down, a young Jennie feared that the rumours were true. The concept of murder had been a hard concept for a young Jennie to grasp.)

If she could see herself now.

Thus, there is a very logical reason why she’s currently wearing an old graphic t-shirt perhaps two sizes too tight with his face on it. Why in her hand, she holds a poster of him in one of her favourite shoots—the one that she thought captured his jawline just as she had imagined it. And why the words ‘MARRY ME, ZHIXIANG <3’ is scrawled, in neon pink, down the length of her arm. The reason is because Jennie has never truly grown out of her ‘Zhixiang’ phase, but also because now that Jennie has blood of every type on her hands, she feels like she’s so much more connected to her favourite celebrity.

She waits outside the café—she fears she’ll get kicked out for her alarming display, but she is a South Korean citizen so they cannot possibly throw her off the streets of Seoul—for him to emerge. She had noticed, through the hacked police cameras all around town, that he visits this café sometimes, and has predicted that Zhixiang would be visiting this café today.

And just as she predicted, out he walks, and Jennie can barely hold herself up. He’s even more beautiful than the pictures, she notices, and a shrill squeal escapes her throat as she fights to contain herself. She loses the fight, of course, her body involuntarily moves forward to attack him in a hug.

“Oh my God, oh my God, ohmygod—” she rambles, her arms around his waist as she rests her head against his chest. And it is here when Jennie’s wired personality breaks, and tears start rolling down her cheeks, because finally—fucking finally—she meets her idol.

“Oppa, I— I love you,” she confesses between sobs, and she laughs at how ridiculous she is being—but the laugh comes out in bursts, because she cannot contain her tears. She loosens her death grip on his body, and her hands squeeze the poster even tighter, slightly bending its edges in the process, as she lifts it for him to see, “p-please sign, oppa. I’m… to Jennie.”

And she ducks her head in embarrassment.

With the document-filled portfolio delivered to one of the companies which the Luo family collaborated with, it was now time for lunch to be served. As expected of a man that has a set pattern which he follows rigorously, Zhixiang drives over to a café which has easily become a favorite among many; it is here that he comes, though usually by himself. When he finds himself in the company of others, there are other destinations that he keeps in mind. Nevertheless, the car is pulled in one of the parking lots by the sidewalk and once he exits it, it takes him a five-minute walk to get to the café.

Having become a regular customer, the workers already knew what his order was: a caffé americano, along with a mozzarella and tomato sandwich and a brioche. There are occasional glances cast his way as the order is being packed away, yet they aren’t something which Zhixiang accords attention to; he was definitely used to having heads turn after him due to his celebrity status, or whatever was left of it. Occasionally, there are people that approach him and request to take a picture or for him to sign something for them – those are moments in which he revels, because they are like the light at the end of the tunnel. Like a ray of hope that shines through, piercing through the darkness in which he’s descended.

Perhaps one day he would be able to return to the life which he lived before.

Dreams are not something that he clings to any longer, so the thought is rapidly dismissed; the present is where he likes to live, not in some make-belief scenario that might never turn out to be true. The order is handed to him and a smile forms on his lips as the package is exchanged with money, thereafter he bids farewell to the workers and turns around to head to the exit. The person waiting outside of the shop is hard to miss, even as he’s on the inside – curious, that a fan of his would show up at a time and place such as this one. Undeniably, Zhixiang comes to wonder for a moment whether or not it was a good idea to step out so soon. He could linger around a while longer, observe the young female and try to make out more of what her intentions are – alas, he doesn’t.

Boldly, he steps outside of the coffee shop and before he knows it, arms fly around his waist and the younger female’s head is pressed tightly against his chest. Zhixiang doesn’t budge an inch, however – he stands still, unmoving as he looks down at the girl with an eyebrow arched. In between sobs and half-choked laughter, he’s told words that have sailed to his ears time after time, again and again – ‘I love you’ loses its spark in such a context, yet he still cracks a smile at the confession. In a weird way, in spite of having never come across this girl - Jennie – before, he feels endeared by her approach.

This is why he decides to indulge her for a short while.

“Jennie, hm?” his head tips to the side a slight as he questions that, the smile that already surfaced to his lips seeming to grow wider. “See, now Jennie… Oppa would be delighted to give you an autograph, would it not be for this minor inconvenience,” the paper bag is lifted and motioned towards, but no words are spoken about the lack of a pen or a marker; in truth, he always carried one around with him. It was a habit from the old days, but also a measure of caution. “But you’ve come here all this way just to seek me out and I’d feel terrible to disappoint you,” he muses, saying that more to himself than to the girl – it’s all an act, but he enjoys circling her in a metaphorical sense.

“Would you like to join me inside?”

[advzhixiang-blog]

decode ;

[advzhixiang-blog]

yifanadv:

(...)

Then there’s a break in routine, in habit- they call this behavior a disorder but this routine feels like an exact order to Yifan. He doesn’t remember- when it was, why that was, how much time has exactly passed but here he was. Then here was his off-white shoes stark against the polished floor of a cafe, worn out navy blue knitted sweater and faded jeans contrasting against the man sitting across him. Pressed dress shirt, not a wrinkle on the surface to be found and a little far too comfortable in this place for Yifan. Then again, everywhere felt too dangerous to be comfortable- they call this thought process anxiety. The coffee was still left untouched. He didn’t like coffee all too much, and all it took for him to be sitting uncomfortably with his back straight, plastered fingers clasped to stop himself from fidgeting was a hesitant ‘yes’. He doesn’t look at Zhixiang in the eyes either, there’s an itching ‘why’ somewhere, but he doesn’t attempt in asking. 

“…I don’t know.” It’s not exactly an answer, a thought slipping past to escape his silence,, and he’s trying to stop himself from pulling at the loose thread in his sleeve. Why does that matter to you- He would’ve said, but he swallows instead, feels his throat dry and the rust still stuck on the roof of his mouth.

The answer he’s met with doesn’t strike Zhixiang as surprising; it was expected, if anything. The subtle shifts which he takes notice of offer him enough detail to know that he’s stirred something in his companion’s mind; perhaps a whole set of questions arose in response or perhaps the other is contemplating his question even further. Ultimately, it is a matter of what one defines as wrong, along with the differences set between right and wrong – good and bad.

Still, he isn’t yet ready to allow the topic to slip away, mostly due to curiosity; it’s what drives him to want to prod more at Yifan’s mind. With each sip taken of his coffee, ideas form in the elder’s mind; dots are connected by lines, words are weaved into sentences and soon enough, a plan is forged. It is delayed, however, simply to let things simmer down more. “You haven’t touched your coffee,” is noted, in spite of Zhixiang’s gaze being directed at the content of his own cup.

From that point onward, silence installs itself between the two once more. The clattering of cutlery, along with various blurbs of conversation coming from other tables are the only notable sources of noise which stand out. Even the slow, ambiental music which plays is drowned out - everything feels like a passing blur. 

Eyes occasionally dart over to Yifan, though nothing is said as of yet. Things are merely dragged out for the reason that they have to - “It’s all part of the plan,” is fitting enough, if one would have to find a suiting quote for the reasoning behind such a decision. But even then, it only lasts for so long - a couple of minutes more, before lips part and another question is asked, “What do you define as wrong? In the same line, tell me what exactly differentiates right from wrong, in your opinion.”