𝖍𝖚𝖓𝖙 𝖔𝖗 𝖇𝖊 𝖍𝖚𝖓𝖙𝖊𝖉

[feyzihuan]

feykazuki​:

noise is synonymous with danger. 

ㅡ the horrid scratch of the bat against the gravel, the footsteps that leave destruction in its wake. song zihuan is nothing short of devastating, the epitome of peril with a delicate mask pulled over an instinct-driven animal. that’s all he is.

(kazuki doesn’t fear pain as much as he should. sometimes, he thinks zihuan fears it less.)

the warning is understood a second too late. a hand clasps over his ear as though that would stop the sharp, painful ringing and from his position on the other side of the street, he can make out the smugness on the other’s expression under the dim streetlights. he lets his hand drop. “are we doing nicknames, now?”

a beat passes and his mouth curves into a grin. it’s threatening, sharp teeth bared but he knows zihuan, if anyone, likes it. “you’re acting like you didn’t get off on it, how cute of you.” his tongue swipes over his bottom lip, head tilted. (there’s something in him that burns with anticipation. it’ll be the death of him.) “you brought a weapon ㅡ that’s not very fair of you.”

        stop.

        listen.

        to the ringing, to the breathing.

        to that voice, that taunt, that invitation.

        “i don’t fight fair,”  he says cheerfully.  cheerfully, as if they’re good ol’ friends instead of predator and prey ready to rip each other’s heads off  ( but who’s the predator?  and who’s the prey?  the ambiguity of this is what makes their little fiasco thrilling ).

        adrenaline pulses through him.  ba-dump, ba-dump, the beats drum off-tempo as he steps in the direction of the voice that beckons him forth.

        “and you’re right, i did get off to it.”

        the head of the metal bat screeches along the pavement.  he’s traded in surprise for suspense -- he wants him to know that he’s closing in, that he’s not backing down.  they’re gonna fight.  and if it doesn’t end with him ripping out kazuki’s heart and feasting on it, then it sure as hell better end with kazuki tearing him limb from limb.  any less would be an insult.

        “you’d let me, wouldn’t ya?”  he stops, his eyes finally finding kazuki’s own.  “i won’t hold back.  you don’t like gentle, i know you don’t.”

        he reaches over, ghosts his fingers along the side of the neck.  “pretty, slender thing.  it’ll bruise nicely.  you can even show it off to the rest of your pack.  bet they’d be jealous.”  his thumb rests over the fluttering pulse.  “do they know?  that you’re fucking a hunter.”

[feyzihuan]

hello friends!  i’m kickin’ my butt into active mode, and am wanting some funky fresh plots & threads (pls)!!  zi’s a hunter, quite an uncivilized one, so if u need anything awful done, he’s ur guy.  im also down for dumb plots like, idk caught him hiding in ur bushes or smth 🥴  

pls hmu, or like this post and i’ll come to u!! 💕

[feyzihuan]

meixfey​:

mei doesn’t often have visitors; typically, it’s her doing the visiting. (emergency sessions, emergency house calls, keeping the peace somehow between what sometimes feels the world- her small little piece of it, at least.) it keeps her going nonetheless, gives a chance for her to somewhat savor the downtime between it all, dressed casually with a decorative wine glass full of what she can pretend is wine- the crimson color almost a definitive match to a finely aged bottle of the real beverage she’s sure she has somewhere from her time in italy, but still does the job of simply taking the edge off of the day.

what doesn’t help, however, is an unsolicited knock on the door, and the tall, slender not-so-stranger that leans against the door-frame as if he were hung there just before she opened it. zihuan greets her, if anything a little smugly, and she doesn’t miss the way his gaze wanders for just a moment, raising a brow wordlessly.

“your stove..” mei repeats for just a moment, as if she were asking about the weather as if it were behaving suspiciously pleasant for a day when rain was forecast. she contemplates, just a moment, before stepping out of the way and opening the door further, her glass now ignored on the coffee table in front of the chair she had been lounging in.

“as long as you don’t ruin any of my cookware,” she responds, making a sweeping gesture as if the apartment’s kitchen was any more grand than what zihuan’s own must look like. “it’s a copper set, and not very easy to replace.” another poignant pause of her own follows, slight discomfort at his presence, though it wasn’t in her to decline what appeared to be a simple request. “i thought most people your age would prefer to order in if a stove broke,” she teases lightheartedly.

         “well, i’m not like most people my age, now am i?”

        a friendly drawl, a cheeky grin --  that’s what he offers her as he brushes past.  his eyes skim the space, noting the cleanliness, the delicate decor that is in all ways absent from his own place next door.  the layout is the same, just mirrored, but the vibe differs;  it feels a bit more sophisticated, a bit more mature.

        “got a nice place here.”

        it’s so nonchalant, so blasé, that it doesn’t sound much like a compliment.  and maybe it’s not, maybe it’s just something to fill the odd silence that lingers as he makes his way around.  he doesn’t go toward the kitchen, at least, not immediately.  instead, he invites himself to take a closer look at the artwork, to brush his fingers along the figurines that add a distinct charm to the space.  they don’t interest him much, so he continues on without comment.  at long last, he stops in front of a glass cabinet, his gaze trailing along the pieces that are on proud display.

        “impressive collection.”  they’re pieces of china, but clearly not from this time period.  “must’ve cost you a fortune.”

        his eyes linger on the plates for a moment more.  then, with a tone that’s unlike his usual jest, he asks,  “what is it that you do again?”

[feyzihuan]

feykijung‌:

kijung doesn’t keep a list of nuisances, but if he did, it would be a long one. perhaps, at the top would be zihuan, or maybe the winner of this highly sought after title changes daily, based on his mood. for now, he knows exactly what will happen as soon as he sees who is perhaps his new worst enemy step into the elevator. 

that smug little smile. kijung wants to smack it off of his face. zihuan doesn’t succeed at much other than getting on kijung’s nerves, because he’s never missed the elevator since zihuan started this irritating routine. he never loses out on anything, just grows gradually angrier as the days and incidents like this pass. how do they need to use the elevator at the same time so often? kijung is half convinced his neighbor knows his schedule for the sole purpose of trying to close the elevator door on him.

regardless, he runs and slips through the elevator door before it can close, as always, and as always, maybe just a little too fast. maybe a regular human would miss it at least once– maybe kijung should play the part, but he just can’t bear to give zihuan the satisfaction of besting him. 

“yes,” kijung answers, tersely, and watches, unsurprised, and his unwelcome companion presses every single button. he simply sighs, trying to bite back the fury that threatens to overtake him, and stares straight ahead.

         “not much of a chatter, are ya?”

        ding!  the elevator doors open, then five seconds later, they close.

        “y’know, when i was your age, i was a feisty, boisterous lil thing.  would say my family disapproved, but truth is, i had an influence over them.  life’s a bit better when you just... let yourself go.”

        ding!  they open again, then close.

        “that woman you live with -- ah, what’s her name again?  mei, was it?”  his eyes flicker over to kijung, the corner of his mouth twitching just a tad out of amusement.  “your sister?  cousin?  mother?  bit young to be a mother, don’tcha think?  but some people are lucky enough to hit the genetic jackpot.”

        ding!  open, close.

        “poor mei must be dreadfully bored, though.  seein’ you’re not all that talkative -- or entertaining, for that matter.”

        ding!  

                open.

        “if she ever desires... company, she’s always welcomed over.”

                close.

        “don’t worry, kid.  we’ll keep quiet.”

[feyzihuan]

bloodlust.

[feyzihuan]

feykyuhwan‌:

          [  ---  ]

then the man cuts himself open, the scent of his blood hitting kyuhwan like a smack in the face and, in an instant, the human in kyuhwan is gone. his pupils widen, fighting with irises that flash red in the dark, and he is lunging for his prey, his bag discarded on the pavement, his teeth bared to latch on to the wrist of the bloodied arm. he will drink his fill, even if it kills him.

          there you are.

          a scramble, a shove.  kill him.  they’re against the cold, cold ground with his blade glinting for a split second before it’s lost.  kill him.  it lies a distance away, out of reach, out mind.  kill him.  he lies there, his pulse fluttering.

          he’s nice.

          he lets the bloodsucker feast.

          it’s the least he can do.  everyone deserves a last meal.

          humans are pitiful things, relentless and weak against their immortal counterparts.  this is what he believes, but here’s the truth:  humans may lack physical strength, but when it comes to control?  it’s fair game.  he lets him feed, he lets him quell that animalistic drive, and he is the one who decides enough.

          his nails dig into the bloodsucker’s scalp, yanking his head back to bare those pesky fangs.  it takes him a moment to recognize the features under the overcast, and another to make the connection of where he’s seen this face.  ah, yes.  his dear neighbor’s friend.

          “kijung,”  he breathes, his gaze piercing kyuhwan’s own, watching to see if that name alone has any effect.  judging from his uncontrollable, insatiable bloodlust, this kid must be starving or a fledgling.  or both.  that seems likely.  which could also mean --  “that boy’s lookin’ after ya?”  assumptions, assumptions.

          how interesting.  he can use this.

          “kill me, and he won’t forgive you.”  if anything, zihuan’s nearly certain kijung wouldn’t care and would probably prefer him dead, but he can’t pass up an opportunity to plant a little guilt.  “why are you causing me so much trouble?  i take care of you, and this is how i’m repaid?  we gotta run now.  leave our home behind, ‘cause you messed up.”  he breaks into a cheeky grin.  “don’t disappoint him, kiddo.”

[feyzihuan]

hideout.

         despite being shrugged off as an absolute barbarian, zihuan likes to think that he has some class.  see, it’s so simple, so easy for him to brandish a blade and fight back;  he’d give the crowd a good show -- this, he’s sure of.  but he knows better than to start shit in the middle of the highly anticipated yeouido psychic fair.  the last thing anyone wants is an all-out brawl, no matter how entertaining that may be.

        but thing is, the cute lil vampire on his tail doesn’t seem to understand that.  you’re fucking dead!  he can’t help but laugh.  oh, to be brutally mauled to death -- wouldn’t that be amusing?  “it’s her fault,”  he says as they come face-to-face again.  “she could smell the difference, couldn’t she?  ‘tween live and dead blood.”  his lips curl into a taunt.  “maybe she likes pain.  have you considered that?”  you piece of shit!

        the crowd works in his favor.  he’s quick on his feet, and even quicker with his eyes.  he spots his dear roommate and ducks into the tent, unabashed as he crouches behind @feyhawon​​.  “hey, babe.  fancy catchin’ you here.  how are sales comin’ ‘long?”  distinctly he hears something crashing and someone shouting.  he lowers himself.  “i may or may not have brought you a rather feral customer.  easily fooled, runs in the family.  i poisoned his sister.”  he says the last part nonchalantly, as if he’s telling hawon about the weather.

[feyzihuan]

uncover.

         you look so much like him,  she laughs.  should i turn you?  it’ll be my little gift to dear pip.  she tells him this as her tongue swirls around the wound on his neck, lapping up the blood that spills.  but that would make me your sire, and i don’t think dear pip would like that much.

        fluttered touches, an arched back.

        you look too much like him,  she gasps.  i really should turn you.  you’ll be my little pet.  “do it,”  he purrs, right next to her ear.  “do it, make me yours.”  she does as she’s told:  her teeth latches to his flesh once more, her nails clawing over the scars that tatter his entire back, a proud display of all the times he’s been excruciatingly lucky.  a-xian, that’s what she calls him.  a-xian as she chokes on her vow, a-xian as blood gushes from her chest, her eyes growing cold.

        pretty, pretty thing.

        he wipes away the crimson splay, climbs off.  and as he’s tugging the covers over her, tucking her in so gently, so endearingly, his ears perk to a new sound.

        “lil late to the party, are we?”  he lifts his chin, his eyes trailing over to @feypip​.  “don’t think she would’ve liked it anyway.  not much of a sharer, this one.  nearly drained me.”  that’s a lie;  she barely took more than the usual amount, but that’s a secret she’s gonna have to take to her grave, quite literally.

        a small smile teases the corners of his mouth as he makes his way to the kind host, leisurely, as if he’s in no rush to leave.  “she told me somethin’ interestin’.”  he gets close, too close.  “a-xian was it?  quite a charmer, i’m sure.”

[feyzihuan]

pass the salt.

          zihuan does not consider himself a petty person -- far from, actually.  he rarely takes offense, rarely holds a grudge;  really, it’s one of his very few positives.

          so the reason why he’s standing here in front of his neighbor’s door, bag of groceries in hand, is not because he’s hung up over the elevator incident.  oh, no.  he’s here because he thinks it’ll be amusing to spend the rest of his days making this kid’s life a living hell -- just because he wants to.

          his forearm is leaning against the frame when the door opens to reveal @meixfey​​.  perfect.  “hey.”  it’s a casual greeting.  casual, like the way his eyes leave her face to slowly rake down her slim form, pausing only briefly at her waist before flickering back up.  casual, like the way the corner of his mouth creases ever so slightly to form that shadow of interest.

          interest that does not lend itself to the words that follow:

          “my stove isn’t working.”  it is, but she doesn’t need to know that.  “vintage gas, pesky lil thing.  mind if i use yours?  i’ll be quick, pinky promise.”

[feyzihuan]

berserk.

           it’s quiet.  too quiet.  the two of them are many, many things, but they are not this.  they don’t do quiet, they’ve never done quiet.  and yet tonight, for some strange reason, he can hear the wind whispering and the crows cawing.

          fuck that.

          let’s make some noise.

          “come now, zuki,”  he drawls, leisurely pacing down the empty street, his silver bat dragging along the gravel.  “i know you’re out there.  won’t you come out and play?  i’ve been so bored lately.”  a short laugh cuts through the silent air.  “wanna know a lil secret?  i was thinkin’ ‘bout you last night.  you, and how pretty you’d look with my hands ‘round your throat.  bet you’d get off on that.”

          his lips curl upward as he slows to a stop next to a street light.  “hey, zuki.  how’s your hearing?”  that’s the only warning he gives before he raises his bat and strikes the side of the metal lamppost.  the brilliant CLANG! that rings out is deafening for a human, and perhaps more-so for those with enhanced senses.

          “where are you, you stupid mutt?”   /   @feykazuki

[feyzihuan]

louder than.

          ---  BACKDATED:  WINTER 2019

          his fingers drum along the side of the glass, a mindless gesture of timid anticipation.  the dance floor beckons him forth -- has been for the past couple of minutes -- but he resists;  temptation lies within another.

          across the bar sits a pretty little face, one that holds his attention over several sips of stale scotch.  he’s observed this man for some time now, indiscreetly, never one to shy away from showing interest.  he’s not his usual type.  zihuan prefers the rambunctious and the unruly, but the man has a certain air to him that zihuan finds oddly captivating.

          “one more?”

          “’m good, darling.”  he slides the bill over.  “keep the change.”

          he’s nonchalant as he leaves his seat at the bar, his eyes skimming the crowd that soon follows.  there are far easier targets here, ones that can certainly entertain him in the same way, but thing is -- he doesn’t like easy.  

          so that brings him here:  slipping into the space on the man’s immediate left, a bold intrusion of his personal space.  he takes a moment to order two gin and tonics first.  “both on mine,”  he tells the bartender once she comes back around with the drinks.

          the second glass slides to his right.  “tell me something,”  he says, peering over at @jinwoofey​ at long last.  “do you enjoy playing hard-to-get?  or am i just not your type?”

[feyzihuan]

bloodlust.

          ---  WARNING:  SELF HARM

          truth be told, it looks a lot worse than it feels.  he’s got high pain tolerance, so it’s no biggie, but he was very much gushing blood earlier from the claws marks, four strokes deep, right across his chest.  and sure, he can visit the hospital and get patched up, but why would he do that when he can just go home and bleed all over the eighteenth century rug that he’d stolen from some vampire he’d once killed?  his roommate shouldn’t mind;  it’s just another friday in their little nest.

          but ah, getting home in one piece is a blessing, and zihuan has never been blessed with anything.  he brandishes his silver, his eyes darting around the shortcut through the back alley.  the clouds had rolled in for the evening, curtaining the moon’s light, so all he can rely on is muscle memory to get back and instinct to stay alive.  and instinct, right now, is telling him that there’s something out there.

          he stops and clicks his tongue.

          “you’re being impolite,”  he drawls, his thumb lightly grazing the blade in his right.  “if you’re interested, why don’t ya come out, and we’ll have a nice lil chat.”

          he doesn’t know what’s out there, but chances are, it’s not human.  “am i not enticing enough?”  he scoffs, unable to contain his amusement as he raises his left hand.  then, with a single glint of the blade, he slices open his palm and allows the fresh blood to trickle down his arm.  “how ‘bout now?”  come, kitten.  let’s play.  /  @feykyuhwan

[feyzihuan]

door close.

          the only thing zihuan enjoys more than a good hunt is bullying unsuspecting children.  except @feykijung​ isn’t exactly a child, nor should he be unsuspecting, considering they’ve been playing this little game for the past couple of weeks.

          what is this game exactly?  it’s easy, rules are simple.  it starts with him waiting for the elevator, and if he happens to see his dear neighbor down the hall, preferably heading in his direction, then the game commences.  he gives a quick salute, his lips stretching into a cheeky grin before he too-da-loos and steps onto the platform.

          now here’s the real test of patience:  there are five seconds between him repeatedly hitting DOOR CLOSE and the doors actually closing.  will kijung make it this time?  the anticipation drums on.  tick tock. 

          five . . .

          four . . .

          three . . .

          two . . .

          “quick one, aren’t ya.”  nothing too impressive, though.  he reaches over to the panel and hits the level below them.  “main floor for you?”  except he doesn’t choose the M button, oh no, that’s giving this kid what he wants.  so what he does instead is hit every other floor on the way down.  y’know, just for fun.

[feyzihuan]

sup clowns  [ honks ]  this is uhhh tea, hours late as per usual : )  today i bring u the lovely xu tian, altho he calls himself song zihuan bc he wants to fit in with the song clan.  he’s a hunter... kind of an uncivilized one... that’s debatable....  but all things considered, he’s just here to have a mf blast

here’s his PROFILE  &  BACKSTORY  &  WANTED CONNECTIONS  --  pls give this intro a big 💖 if u wanna plot / if any wc tickles ur fancy !  tl;dr bg under cut

when he and his sis  ( wc! )  were little ones, their greedy son of a bizh father was like lol u kno whats cooler than scamming ppl for a bunch of money????  immortality

so what this man did was “sold” himself and his family to a lazy vamp fam  ( wc! )  as live-in blood bags in exchange for the vamp fam to grant them eternal life way later on

when zihuan was old enough, the vamp fam taught him how to hunt werewolves  ( for their intoxicating ww blood )  bc the vamp fam, again, were lazy mfs so why put in effort when u can send these humans out to do the same right???

now’s a perfect time to drop the fact that zihuan loves hunting, he thinks it’s so thrilling to be in the claws of death every time, oh and he genuinely believes that he’s stronger bc he eats vamp fam’s leftovers  ( he believes superstitious stuff easily.... )

fast forward, zihuan dragged back an injured ww for his vamp fam.  they realized it’s his father after feeding.  mother’s horrified, wanted to leave but zihuan was like nah.  mother ran away and petty vamp fam was like hunt her down, and he just okie dokie!!!

did not catch her but brought back a few humans  ( wc! )  who later became the new blood bags so he could later yeet

harbors no ill feelings for this vamp fam since they were in his earliest memories, often returns to them being like can i get y’all anything? a condom? some snacks??

more on the hunting note ---

joined the song hunting clan so murder is legal  ( jk, but he thinks they can save him if he ever gets in trouble w the law )

fighting style?  barbaric.

choice weapons include silver chains, bats, and knives.  and anything a talented witch  ( wc! )  can “enchant” for him

goes for werewolves > vampires > everyone else.  he might try to sleep with u first bc thats dangerous and secksee

thinks it’s thrilling to hunt ppl he knows.  “but doesn’t he care??”  he hunted his own mother... his sense of loyalty is relatively skewed in favor of selfish pursuits, so pls help change his mind, Hurt Him a lot

the only thing he truly cares about is finding “the right” vampire sire  ( wc! )  bc he wants immortality for funsies.... actually tho

ok we done : )  hmu for juicy plots pls!!!!!!!!!!!

:eyesopen:  event related plots ---

witchy vendors giving him an enchanted tattoo? or selling potions or smth that could help in his hunts??? perhaps it’s all a scam but he’ll buy into it

all these hunters out here trying to kill but he out here looking for his vampire sire.... maybe he took an interest in u and started stalking

could be a perfect time to find out the guy you’ve been hooking up with is a hunter huhuhu, or to find ur new enemies with benefits, love that

y’all got into a fight some time ago and it’s time for a rematch... but let’s take it outside the market

[pastbreathing]