PATRON SAINT.

“hands reaching out for new gods; you can't give me what i want.”

[anastasiyavld]

vldminseok​:

                                being  educated  was  not  a  virtue  that  minseok  possessed ,  and  frankly ,  he  was  okay  with  being  illiterate  in  text - book  knowledge .  yet ,  it  bothered  him  somewhat  when  he  was  put  on  the  spot  like  this  ;  reminding  him  too  much  of  what  school  felt  like  to  him .   ❛    it  was  merely  a  joke .  don’t  take  it  too  literally .   ❜   he  commented  instead ,  trying  to  save  the  ounce  of  pride  he  had  left .  the  curves  of  her  mouth  felt  taunting ,  but  minseok  tried  to  brush  it  off  his  shoulder  ;  telling  himself  that  this  was  just  banter ,  and  that  he  oughtn’t  take  it  to  heart .  ❛      hey ,  i  do  deserve  some  credit  for  guessing  .  do  spill  your  secret ,  though .  and  i  will  spill  mine .   ❜   mimicking  her  amused  expression ,  the  singer  simply  shrugged  at  the  question .  long  limbs  stretched  to  shield  his  eyes  from  the  scorching  sun ,  humming  in  content  at  the  warmth  wrapping  around  his  body .    ❛      wishful  thinking ,  i  suppose .  we  all  have  dreams ,  do  we  not  ?   a  serpent  king  may  have  power ,  yes ,  but  it  is  the  knowledge  i  desire .  imagine  the  history  it  must  know  ;  then  again ,  knowledge  is  power .  perhaps  that  is  what  i  lack .    ❜

“i’m not i — ” she murmurs, but still cuts the invisible and linen thread of words with utmost sharpness, sensing guilt's tight but just grip around her throat. “maybe i did take it seriously, but it doesn’t hurt to learn something new, does it?” she pushes the topic away with a lackadaisical shrug, and yet her voice is lighter, uncharacteristically softer, void of its usual coldness, and if it were a colour, it would resemble the shades of a freshly-brewed cider. “you do. you’re quite good at guessing, more or less perfect. but in all fairness, i don’t think that i can give you a precise answer. i just know who i’d like to be — so maybe a koschei’s mistress or of some other strange creature, perhaps even a trusted companion, because they always seem to have more fun. hm i guess i’m not that interesting after all,” she concludes and finally laughs, and perhaps the greatest form of bravery is to showcase your own flaws. “of course. dreams are stories we tell ourselves of what could be. it's a sweet little coping mechanism and you do make a nice point about the serpent king, but a beard doesn’t make a philosopher, and just because you’re old doesn’t mean that you’re wise and knowledgeable. i once read that a man learns all his life and dies the day he thinks that he has learnt everything. so why do you seem to be so, let’s say, insecure?”

[anastasiyavld]

vldbeam​:

when - 6:25 am  where - Hidden Park

It was 5:50 am, twenty five minutes before her group’s wake up time, there was not an actual alarm for them since Beam prohibited them in the dorm ever since had read a research a about how they could be dangerous for one’s mental health since they cause one to start the day with stress, wether it was true or not she didn’t really care, it made a lot of sense in her head and her own solution was to sleep with headphones so she was the only one to be exposed to the morning alarm, she then proceeded with her morning activities, washing her teeth, changing her clothes to high wasted shorts and an over sized sweatshirt and her glasses, then came the most important part, the beginning of a day long skin care routine. Once she was done she started waking up her group members, some instantly woke up with the smell of coffee or food, a couple needed special methods that she was happy to figure out, wether it was pulling gently at someone’s cheek, actually dragging them out of bed or placing head phones with their favorite song, her efforts always had the best results and she had them up by their scheduled time and almost always on a good mood and perfectly ready to start to day with the best mindset, that was the only way she felt relieved enough to leave and have some time on her own.

She walked out of their apartment building her longboard in hand, airpods on and started skating along the streets making her way to one of her favorite parks, a place that was almost empty at this time of the day, it also happened to be the home of her favorite skate park. There was something about that place that reminded her of the images engraved on her mind from her childhood, right when she was about to reach the entrance she saw a mother walking around with her daughter who was still only a child, the morning breeze and wind played around around with her hair and the song that was playing and its melodies reminded her of her own mother and the dynamic of those strangers was also similar to her own with who was back in her hometown. As her senses were being filled little by little by her strong emotions she couldn’t react on time to avoid a stone big enough to make her trip, a red color flushed her cheeks and she picked up her glasses before running over to the direction her board was heading to avoid eye contact with any person that may have witnessed what had just happened. She could spot her board reaching someone inside the park, an embarrassed smile drew across her face as she squinted her eyes slowly recognizing the features of the person standing in front of her

“Thank you a lot, it seems I’m very distracted today. Excuse me have we met before?” 

Beam was someone who made sure to know every single face of the industry she was in wether it was staff members, idols or trainees, sometimes she even recognized faces she had seen backstage just once never actually meeting them before.

nights in seoul, ana supposes, are more suffocating than anywhere else, they pull on you, pull you down into sleep like death, the type of sleep it takes all morning to shake off, that is, if you’re lucky enough. that’s why she decides to get a head-start, to seize the first rays of sunlight in a faux and imaginary bottle, but maybe just maybe, if she takes a glance at her silver wrist watch, she’ll see that she’s far behind, skipping yet another part of her trainee schedule. it’s fine, of course it is, she’s a silver-tongued fox for a reason, capable of concealing her devious tracks in the snow —  so that you never know that she was truly there. out of her back pocket, she fishes out a lighter and two distinctly black cigarettes, one for now and one for later, unless she changes her mind and chooses to smoke them both one after the other.  

it’s not that she’s a heavy smoker, quite the contrary, she barely ever lusts after nicotine, but there are some mornings that simply demand cancerous assistance, just as some nights can’t be devoured without the help of a perfectly chilled glass of caramel-coloured whiskey. she flicks her lighter and the tip of the black cigarette subsequently turns bright orange — and so she inhales fast but exhales even faster as tendrils of smoke waft skyward. then she cants her head by raising her chin slightly, turning slowly around to identity the source of the unfamiliar sound. so it’s a ghost’s skateboard. anastasiya stops the long-board from going anywhere else with a quick movement of her foot, blocking its path while lifting her gaze in hopes of finding the mysterious owner. 

“um i have no idea,” different names, figures, faces, they all flit through her mind, but she’s always had trouble with remembering even the most basic details about someone. perhaps she’s not that awful at remembering, but she certainly seems to be fond of forgetting. “but you’re welcome. plus your skateboard looks pretty cool. oh and by the way, are you hurt or anything?”   

[anastasiyavld]

vldminseok​:

grinning  at  her  comment , he  found  it  amusing  that  she  thought  that  this  was  intolerable  while  minseok  would  have  preferred  an  even  hotter  climate .   ❛   c ‘ mon ,  this  is  not  the  sahara  desert .   ❜  his  amusement  simply  grew  at  her  question ,  and  while  minseok  had  previously  been  afraid  of  the  dark ,  the  hardship  of  life  had  caused  him  to  grow  accustomed  to  a  lifestyle  in  the  shadows .  ❛   little  boy  ?  as  if  am  not  closing  in  on  thirty .   ❜  it  was  a  hard  truth ,  that  minseok  was  getting  older ,  but  he  tried  to  look  at  it  on  the  bright - side .  sipping  on  the  iced  coffee  in  his  hands , grimacing  somewhat  at  the  bitterness  of  it  (  even  thought  he  asked  for  it  to  be  sweetened ,  his  sweet - tooth  getting  worse  and  worse  by  the  day.  )     ❛   a  hybrid  then .  let’s  say ,  a  vampire  fell  in  love  with  someone  else  ;  a  siren ,  perhaps  ?  or ,  a  dragon .  something  exotic .   does  it  suit  your  taste  better  ?  a  dragon  vampire .  drampire .  if  i  was  a  mythical  creature ,  i  would  be  a  basilisk .  a  cunning  serpent king .    ❜  

“no, it’s not, but it’s actually far better over there. it’s the humidity here that makes the heat so intolerable. at least the sahara is dominated by dry subtropical and tropical climates. plus i hope that you’re aware that when night falls, the temperature in the sahara desert can and usually does drop below zero,” the corner of her mouth curves lightly in mild amusement as she eases herself into a seat, begrudgingly reminding herself that this is something that's out of her hands. “it’s an honest mistake on my part. you don’t look a day older than twenty-nine. but to be fair, i was mostly referring to your mental age,” anastasiya nearly protests, arms splayed wide in faux self-defense, a slight telltale sign which proves that her statement should not be taken seriously. “now you’re just flattering me  — but i do certainly harbor a great fondness for both sirens and dragons. though, back when i was a child, i simply called them — rusalki. they were my favourite. however you have yet to guess correctly and i know that i’m about to regret this, but i still have to ask. why a serpent king? another familiar cliché of course. so why do all boys think that they can be kings?”  

[anastasiyavld]

vldminseok​:

             warm  summer  nights  were  one  of  minseok’s  favorite  things  ;  the  smell  of  fresh  rain  against  hot  pavement  always  bringing  out  cherished  memories .  it  always  brought  him  peace  for  some  reason ,  to  lounge  in  the  sun ,  pretending  like  you  had  zero  worries  in  the  world .  with  a  scoff ,  the  idol  simply  raised  a  brow  at  her  comment .   ❛    i  rather  not ,  actually . i  like  my  sun - kissed  cheeks  in  the  summer .  ❜   he  replied ,  tilting  his  pair  of  overpriced  sunglasses  down  the  bridge  of  his  nose .   ❛   plus ,  it  would  get  awfully  dark ,  would  it  not  ?  ❜   his  words  were  laced  with  hyperbole  undertones  ;  his  humor  always  seeming  to  spill  into  the  dad  genre  of  jokes . ❛   are  you  a  vampire  ?   ❜

“it must be quite endearing to have such a wonderful love affair with the sun, but it's not the colour of my skin that concerns me. just the intolerable heat,” she doesn't smile often enough, not nearly enough as other people do, for there always seems to be a reason to refrain from doing so —  and yet it all comes down to the way she was raised, molded by those around her, quaintly shaped. “please don’t tell me that you’re afraid of the dark, little boy. darkness, in all of it’s glory, is the natural state of the universe,” and then, almost with an ease, anastasiya lets her expression soften by the slightest degree. “well what do you think?” she asks instead of answering, raising her brow in consideration, as if she can't actually remember whether or not she belongs among mythical creatures of the night. “vampires are so unoriginal these days. dare i say —  boring.”  

[anastasiyavld]

PLACE: any coffee shop (pick according to your heart’s desire)  STATUS: open

she waits, a svelte figure dressed far too grimly for such an intolerably warm day, waits for her iced black coffee to finally be ready — and as much as she desires to complain, she only bites her tongue, keeping it neatly secured behind pearly white teeth. perhaps it’s the heat that irritates her so much or maybe it’s the fact that she’s actually breaking the rules of her schedule, but she can’t kick the habit, can’t help herself, as if she’s a rebellious teenager, a troubled child, so in love with the idea of disobeying the authority. for a moment she laughs at herself, but it’s as dry as a perfectly chilled glass of sauvignon blanc. at long last and with a cup of coffee in her hand, she finds her way to the coffee shop’s patio, nearly distressed when she notices the lack of seats under garden parasols. “what’s with the sun huh? can’t someone like turn it off?” it rumbles off her tongue, words seemingly void of any sarcastic  undertones and yet they’re nothing more but a mere jest.

[anastasiyavld]

vldminseok​:

𝐰𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞 &  𝐰𝐡𝐞𝐧 : backstage , somewhere , any - time  𝐰𝐡𝐨 & 𝐰𝐡𝐚𝐭:  anyone  with  a  social - security  number  &  a  pass  backstage

                                 pushing  himself  to  his  limits  was  one  of  minseok’s  many  flaws , and  while  he  could  usually  mask  the  burning  sensation  in  his  legs  &  back , the  lack  of  sleep  had  caught  up  with  him  and  pushed  him  to  his  bursting  point . his  entire  body  was  aching ;  and  the  bright  lights  were  making  him  feel  more  lightheaded  than  usual . after  finishing  up  his schedule  for  the  day  with  a  deep  bow  and  a  beaming  expression ,  the  idol  had  pretty  much  scrambled  off - stage  before  collapsing  against  the  nearest  wall . the  adrenaline  in  blood  was  already  breaking - down  ;  the  rush  of  endorphins  slowly  decreasing  as  he  inhaled  and  exhaled  as  he  had  been  taught  in  order  to  not  let  his  knees  buckle .  it  was  the  presence  of  the  other  that  pulled  minseok  into  consciousness ;  hands  grabbing  onto  whatever  fabric  of  clothing  his  weak  hands  to  grasp  in  such  a  state .   ❛     d ’ ya  got  a  protein  bar  i  could  have  ?    ❜

she shouldn’t be here, but it doesn’t matter, not really, because she’s certain that she could talk her way out of any situation, no matter how tricky or seemingly hopeless it may seem. furthermore, anastasiya's not doing something fundamentally or gravely forbidden as she’s merely avoiding the rest of her responsibilities, draw by the idea of getting a glimpse into her shimmering future. she'll debut, sooner than she wishes to admit  — and she’ll never be able to go back. she’ll be forced to forget the taste and warmth of normality, and it tastes like stolen honey and smells like spring and feels as warm as a mother's kiss. but she doesn't expect the show to end so quickly, nearly startled by sudden presence of a legion member. she spares him a brief glance, eyes cold and yet glittering, like two marbles plucked out of a child's hand and turned into her eyes. “hey, you're gripping onto maison margiela,” she finally says, one inky eyebrow quirked. “but a protein bar? um no, i only have snickers. so, do you want it? yes or no? and um, are you okay?”

[anastasiyavld]

eiravld​:

vldwoori​:

The road to Sweetbitter’s bonding had been a rocky one to say the least. With the clashing of egos and the refusals to see eye to eye for a while, it wasn’t until some time passed did Woori stat to include her fellow group members in her thoughts of her being the best trainee at Atlas. Now, they were the best group yet to debut. In her own twisted sort of way, she did truly care for these girls, and when Eira just left without telling anyone, she and Ana had went out to where they assumed she would be.

Woori was a confident individual, of course she was, since she had no reason not to be. However, her confidence in her ability to simply rent a pair of skates and immediately glide like Eira and Ana was hilariously misguided. She could barely handle walking onto the rink in her skates, then nearly slipped as soon as her foot made contact with the ice. She clutched onto the wall like her life depended on it (which in this moment definitely felt like a possibility) and glacially slowly started making her way towards her fellow members.

upon the call of her name, eira’s head snapped toward ana’s voice through the cacophony. her hands thus fell apart, but just as she opened her mouth, she managed to falter. why didn’t she inform them of her whereabouts? eira initially wanted to be alone—have some time to enjoy herself. of course, she could spend time with others, especially for the lack of encounters on jeju; and what was there to think about? another family’s happiness served as a trigger proving how fragile her state of mind surely was.

she must’ve thought for too long, as she felt a shift in the atmosphere. “i guess i didn’t think either of you would want to come,” eira finally decided on those words. however, her attention later bore onto someone’s strife with the ice; someone she could identify as woori. “that, and the fact that i didn’t want either of you to get hurt. you appear to be fine, though.”

she dismisses eira’s explanation with one disappointed shrug of her shoulders, carrying herself with all the pomp of a russian princess, nose and chin held high, mouth so perfectly trained that she neither smiles nor frowns, only looks frozen in time. “it’s never a good thing to guess or assume things when it comes to other people. you ought to be more upfront. it could save you a lot of trouble,” she meets the younger girl's eyes after she appraises the rest of her, unwilling to say anything else on that matter as it would be a waste of time in her opinion.

“hurt? i appreciate the sentiment, but as you can already see, i'm definitely fine. i could even give you a run for your money,” she jests, quite convinced that eira would without a hint of doubt defeat her in any sort of skating competition. “woori’s fine too. don’t worry about her, she's the most self-assured person we know, isn't she? and i personally believe in her great skills,” she says and shifts her glance from the far end of the ice rink to woori. clearly, she isn’t moving fast. 

“woori, are you good over there? why are you avoiding us? come here and be with the rest of your members. we know you’re special so you don’t need to play around anymore.”   

[anastasiyavld]

eiravld​:

time / date : july 15th with : @anastasiyavld & @vldwoori

after returning from jeju, eira initially sat in her room for about a week. although she gradually turned the temperature down, she still sought an icebox she could fit in and what better place to go than an ice rink? quickly putting on a pair of skates, she hurried over to the frozen field, making sure not to bump into anyone in the process. the 5'3’’ trainee thrived in frigid conditions, so when she was expected to go on a plane to a tropical paradise and survive for four days, she wasn’t the happiest.

after briefly warming up, eira began to advance in her learnings. gracefully skating within the arena, she felt at peace—though not quite at home. moreover, interrupted by the sheer joy of a nearby family, her serenity was lost and thus came negative thoughts. for a moment, she traversed aimlessly while still managing to slip past others, but eira eventually came to a stop. there she stood, surrounded by a manifold of blades grazing across the ice; sounds much more pleasant than grating one’s nails against any surface; sounds that she couldn’t enjoy anymore because she grated her nails against her surface. she rarely resorted to this method, and she didn’t exactly know why she was doing it now.

it felt like the cold became her enemy too, and those around her merely exchanged a glare. eira felt alone; maybe she was exaggerating the severity of it all, but she just needs someone there with her.

she’s doing this for herself, doing this because she desperately misses neva and all of its brilliant beauty, misses the brisk and unforgiving morning air of st. petersburg and moskovsky victory park where she had spent countless of hours with her mother and petulant younger sister skating across pristine lakes covered by thick layers of shimmering ice, lakes surrounded by tended gardens and mesmerizing snow-swathed woodlands. it's the closest thing to an actual winter fantasy on earth, so much so that anastasiya considered herself spoiled, remaining perfectly aware that she'll never find such charm anywhere else.

so yes, it’s quite simpler to say that she’s only doing this for herself  — and not because her stubborn mind detected a sudden change in eira's behavior, not because she actually cares for the younger girl; and try as she may, she just can’t admit it to herself. but somehow, she manages to find her, tremendously thankful for no longer being forced to wither away underneath the barbaric sun. 

slowly and with most her pretty skin stubbornly exposed she makes her way to the ice rink, knowing that a sudden fall could leave her with her knees and elbows skinned and scraped — but she still steps on the ice with dashing confidence, looking quite debonair, as if she truly belongs there; and without giving it a second thought, she boldly decides to glide across the ice only on one skate. 

it’s a sight to behold as she dares only to listen to the song of ice and blades, remaining childishly lost in her own memories and reveries and entranced by melodies. “eira,” the brunette finally calls out her name and no smile or warmth is present, but the other girl ought to know her better by now, ought to know that it’s nothing truly personal. “why didn’t you even bother to tell us about your plans? you know how much i love the cold. even woori is here and trust me, i have a feeling that we're about to see some real magic.”    

[anastasiyavld]

vldkyungho​:

the sun’s become his enemy, or so kyungho forces himself to believe. the unforgiving waves of heat that come and go with periods of assimilation and violent pummel of roaring temperatures. and there the soloist wanders in shorts catered slightly high above his knees and an onyx hoodie that wraps his body whole with nothing but a hood to slung over his head to shield him from the sun. it’s a reminder why korea’s summers become an object of disdain rather than an endearing period of welcoming opportunities, and another reminder why the loner never bit into the thrills of venturing outside during this time. had it not been for the collar tethered to his neck, kyungho wouldn’t be caught in the middle of a jeju beach during broad daylight. never an optimist, he enshrouds his pessimism through a simple walk along the shores and sporadic checks to the clock that signal the dwindling time left he has on the island. 

the voice calling out his name knocks him awry from his mindless judgements, a sharp gaze that darts to the source. of course, a drawl of words that sprout from no other than the russian ice queen’s lips. “anastasiya,” kyungho replies, lowering his voice to a low husk as his fingers peel his hood forward. “do i look like a dog ready at your beck and call? i’m nobody’s bitch. you keep talking like that and I might lunge you into the ocean.” his harsh words soften with the laughter that radiates from his voice, an easy pull tugging the corners of his lips. pessimism still walks around him, but it no longer deeply pries into his mind like he’s on the verge of reaching the edge. “aren’t you supposed to melt in this weather? ya’know,” his hand raises to wave in front of his face.  “the whole evil ice queen, melting from the sun. not able to withstand anything warm?”

it’s always the same old story with him and by this point anastasiya ought to call herself a fool for expecting a different outcome, but still, she only eyes him through a half-squint, raising her middle finger in a lazy response as she conceals her victorious smile with the help of her book. “do you really need me to answer that? kyungho, don’t make me shatter your illusions because i’ll do that gladly,” a delicate hand dismissively bats away the boy’s vocalized complaints and obviously childish threats, her attention instantly dropping to her book as she flicks through various pages. but she mutters a silent curse as she realizes that she can’t remember the last sentence she read — and so she rolls her eyes, glancing back up at him and idly stretching on the beach chair, visibly unimpressed. “so where was i? ah yes, your illusions. well you do look like a bitch and besides, what’s the point of having acquaintances if they can’t get me things? why should i even talk with you if i can’t even get something from you? don’t take it personally of course,” the sharp lines of her smile are on the cusp of turning into a vicious smirk, but anastasiya doesn’t bother to stop and think and actually dwell on the possible consequences of her words; a bullet never worries of the reverberations it creates.

“you can’t touch me. even if you try, you still won’t be able to do it,” yet as much as she wants to pretend that she’s hurt by his words, she only shoots him a look of amusement, verily impressed by the vivid description and new moniker — or well, rather her newly acquired title. there’s something wickedly sweet about being regarded as an entity with so much power. “again with the stereotypes? when will you realize that you’re not being funny at all? you’re just so so boring. plus i’m not the one who’s wearing a black fucking hoodie on a beach. who does that? are you insane?”

[anastasiyavld]

DATE: july 6th  PLACE: jungmun beach  STATUS: closed for @vldkiki

with sea salt in her hair and irritation brewing inside her chest, she gives herself the liberty of  studying the way waves crash against each other as if trapped in a torrid affair beneath the azure sky, so fondly in love with the familiar shore. circling somewhere high above her head, she can hear a seagull crying and mewing, desperate for attention and some food, but all that she bothered to buy on this day were a couple of non-alcohol drinks that look much better than they taste. 

just a half an hour ago, she had tried negotiating with the clerk at the convenience store, but her meager attempt made the brunette even more miserable, leaving her with a rather fruitless outcome. no alcohol. anastasiya huffed at the remark, feeling like some silly child who had just been scorned for eating too many sweets before lunch, but still, she purchased the next best thing, a couple of sodas and a small bag of ice that’s melting at an alarming speed, enough to make her own poor and improvised refreshment. 

so she sits still and without a beach umbrella to protect her now, mixing her own little drink with only one thought in mind - how much she wants to drink, right up until the point her lips turn numb from all the remaining ice. but a sudden gush of wind forces her to stand up, knocking over the half empty cans of soda, and she swiftly moves, concealing her plastic cup with her palm in order to shield the ice cubes and liquid inside from the cruel sun and grains of sand. 

yet without paying any attention to her path, she collides with someone, spilling half of her colorful drink all over him and the other half all over herself.  “well fuck,” she mutters in russian, at least content with the fact that her beach dress is entirely black. “um no hard feelings, right? but allow me to apologize. i didn’t mean to do that.” 

[anastasiyavld]

TIME: july 5th  PLACE: jungmun beach STATUS: closed for @vldkyungho 

 with the sound of waves ardently kissing the almost ochre shore, the frowning brunette is all but content, wishing that the unrelenting and barely tolerable heat would somehow, perhaps with a flick of a magic wand, go away, vanish. anastasiya’s after all a child of snow and ice, with bones that only know songs of cruel winters and frosty springs. summers back home have always been pleasant dreams and as hard as it may be to believe, the highest temperatures rarely ever go above measly 23 celsius, which compared to her current location now seems like a distant, taunting and made-up fantasy, as if it all happened in another life, as if the memories she possesses are only borrowed, stolen images. 

yet even underneath two beach umbrellas, a shaky and desperate exhale passes through her soft lips, irritation only growing larger as she tosses her straw hand fan aside and tries her best to focus on the book in her hand. the death of ivan ilych & other stories, written strictly in russian, is only a short-lived distraction for the young and miserable trainee. but in spite of her best efforts, her wandering eyes refuse to cooperate, stubbornly darting around, and so she bites her lip and takes a deep breath that does far more harm than good to her lungs. it’s hot. why is it so painfully hot? but while looking up, a seemingly familiar face suddenly draws her attention and so she shouts his name, deliberately taking off her black shades and narrowing her eyes. “kyungho? ah kyungho, it is you,” anastasiya notes, raising her voice once more. “go and fetch me a cold drink. with extra ice. go go! and hurry! don’t make me wait.”

[anastasiyavld]

it’s time for my event starter call !! so like this and i’ll write something just for us !! (capping this at 3) 

[mooooosa]

[anastasiyavld]

misovld​:

► 언제: present ↳ 어디: kmg building 

“do we need to keep formalities?” after all these years in korea she still wasn’t used to the formalities. often times she’s being mistaken for talking down on people because it slips her. back where she used to live, there were no honorifics to keep in mind.

“you can just call me miso and seriously, we know each other already, sort of— it’s not like we’re strangers.” she sighs and her mind wanders back to the question that’s directed at her with a hum. “what would you request for your last meal if you knew you were going to die tomorrow?”

“i’d request mushrooms and your flesh for my last meal just because you asked this…” she squints at the other in scrutiny, eyebrows furrowed then a serious expression coats her face. “i’m kidding. “that’s a depressing thought… but I guess i’d like to just have the fatty food i’ve been deprived of. i’d even do a broadcast for it if i’d be allowed. siren, singing live for the very last time.”

“i don’t know. i mean, i personally don’t care, but i am a little older than you — so can you blame me?” the formalities and multiple levels of politeness are certainly a norm in the korean language, but despite not being born and bred on the korean soil, it’s not like her tongue isn’t used to it. if anything, her words are only meant to be taken lightly, a mere teasing, something that could solidify the newfound friendship. “okay miso, whatever you say. you can call me anastasiya. if that doesn’t work for you, then too bad. take what you can get, because that’s all that i’m giving. but no, we’re not strangers. we could be, but only if you start to annoy me,”  she explains, slumping into her seat with her arms crossed across her chest.

“what the fuck? that’s sickening,” her lips twist into a simultaneously amused and disgusted shape, not quite pleased with the answer. some things are far too macabre even for her sense of humor. “god, you’re a fucking psychopath. it’s no wonder that you’d be locked up in that scenario, it’s where you actually belong,” still a little bemused, she quickly takes a sip of her cola before continuing, “well that’s just pathetic. and sad. but ninety-nine percent pathetic. and so so boring.”   

[anastasiyavld]

vldkyungho​:

(...)

“i had no intentions of practicing anyways,” he begins, dipping his head low like a pauper countering the opulence of her regal pose. “i prefer observing the rise and fall of a russian queen in all her vodka glory.” keeping his arms crossed loosely along the width of his chest, the soloist takes a few steps forth, drawing the same curl in his lips. “ana, i’m bored. can’t you entertain me by showing me a contemporary dance titled, “the destruction of perfectionism’?” there’s a subtle whine in his voice, which amplifies the playful quip of the statement, and he finishes his ploy by perching himself quietly in front of the mirrors.

huffing slightly, anastasiya moves further away from the mirrors as if to inspect the practice room for any other unwanted visitors, but much to her chagrin, it’s painfully clear that they’re the only two souls present in the room. yet seemingly satisfied with what she's seen, she cheekily grins before adding, “remind me to lock the door next time. i’m all by myself here and i never know what sort of pervert could be watching outside,” she drawls, long and slow and with a hint of sarcasm, tongue running over her teeth as if she’s toying with the words. next up she checks her wrist watch and decides that it’s time to head back to the dorm, ignoring kyungho's presence like he’s nothing more but an irksome wraith.

“oh yes, forgive me. it must have slipped my mind that you don’t actually dance at all. you just stare seductively into the camera and call it a day,” she lazily scoffs under her breath as she reaches for her leather jacket on one of the coat hangers, putting it on and zipping it up in just a few brief moments. “so i’m right. you are a voyeur. plus that’s quite a stereotypical thing to say. i wish i could actually be offended right now, but i really don’t give a fuck,” her shrug is heavy, jacket squeaking against the cold hard wall as she leans against it. “ana, i’m bored,” she repeats mockingly, imitating the manner in which someone would wipe away their precious and glistening tears. yet this beast has no tears to shed. “cry me a river, justin timberlake.”   

“and wait a minute, did i hear that right? you want me to entertain you? well, does it look like we’re in a strip club? come on now, look again,” there’s a faint ring of smugness to anastasiya’s tone, somewhat distracted as she disconnects her bluetooth from the speakers, almost fully ready to finally head out. “besides, i have no idea what any of those words mean. ‘the destruction of perfectionism’? what are you even talking about? you know, if you want some entertainment, just look into a mirror, you’ll see a proper clown staring right back at you. sounds cool, right?”   

[anastasiyavld]

TIME: 4:37 am  PLACE: sweetbitter’s dorm  STATUS: closed for @sunmivld

it’s late. dear god, it’s so fucking late. barely audible words roll off her tongue with an ease followed by an even quieter string of curses. she should’ve been in bed by now — not because she’s a good little girl who goes to sleep when she’s been told to go, but rather because it’s the only two hours of sleep that she can properly get without being interrupted or overwhelmed by her responsibilities. her eyelids are heavy but her body is still a restless machine that always pushes her forward even in moments when she feels like she’s falling apart, keeping her simultaneously tired and awake.

as quietly as possible, she tries to enter the main room without disturbing the rest of her group mates, knowing fully well that she wouldn’t be mentally capable of dealing with anyone’s nagging during these ungodly hours. nonetheless and without much surprise, she almost manages to knock over a vase while tossing her leather jacket across the room and onto one of the sofas. almost. but she catches it just in time. and so with a smoldering cigarette still hanging between her lips, she takes a long draw on her favourite cancerous stick and swiftly perches it on a lid of some sort, the next best replacement for an ash-tray. 

however, just as she’s about to make her way towards the bedroom, she spots a familiar face in the dark and without flinching in surprise, she casually greets the apparition. “hey, why are you up so early? it’s only —  um,” anastasiya pauses for a moment to check her phone, freezing for a brief second when she sees the actual time. “it’s almost five am and wow, it’s almost time for me to wake up and go for a jog.”

[anastasiyavld]

TIME: late in the evening  PLACE: atlas records practice rooms  STATUS: closed for @vldkyungho

a body is like a violin in a dusty velvet case — thus one must practice and practice until the very brink of madness if they so fiercely wish to achieve perfection and anastasiya has always been a diligent soul to say the least, focusing on every task that is given to her or ahead of her with utmost care and precision. however, succumbing to cold rage and frustration is a painful proneness far too familiar to the russian girl, as she has yet to learn how to fully control and deal with her own fails and falls and flaws. 

swaying to the beat of unfamiliar yet quite lilting tunes, anastasiya is all alone, in a world of her own, letting the music guide her body as if she’s dancing with a phantom in the dark, living quite a different life. but with a sudden shortness of breath she drops to her knees and blinks, mind reeling as she tries to focus — only to find herself growing even more frustrated than before. almost reluctantly, the brunette reminds herself that she’s come this far, so close to the very stars that she too could perhaps and soon become a celestial body.

glancing at the mirror before her, she catches a familiar reflection that is not her own and immediately her nose scrunches in faux distaste, hoping that he’d see it. her gaze swiftly shifts to her newly arrived companion as she raises a curious brow.  “i’m sorry, but this practice room is already occupied,” she says, eyes closing briefly as she tips her chin up, almost regally. “ go and find another one.”