#advkyungil

[advjaehyun]

Mechanics of Puppetry

@advkyungil

“ Sweet, sweet boy. Your voice is so very, beautiful.”

( Won’t you scream for me? )

Little girl, who are you? ( Let me tell you a secret Jaehyunnie ~ ) She breathes her words. Sweet child, why does your voice sound like a ringing bell and why does each syllable throb against my temple like hammer to a skull? The world is so very, very loud. 

Her whisper turns into screams ( Who’s screaming? ), blood boiling over, flames licking up moulted flesh ( “Guess, pretty boy ~ Y.O.U.” ). 

B E A U T I F U L. Isn’t it? 

( Huh? )

There’s a sharp whistle. Whistle. Whistle. ( Throb )

“Ah,” Jaehyun stares dazedly at the whistling kettle before him, unfocused eyes staring at and beyond the jet of steam being forced out the little opening by the spout. A finger brushes gingerly against the stitches concealed by his overgrown fringe. He presses it. It doesn’t hurt; Or it’s not giving him a splitting headache at the very least, yet he still winces at the lumpy, uneven sensation. Funny, did he imagine the throbbing of his temples? 

Shaking his head, he switches off the stove, lifting the kettle from the burner as he shuffles over to the marbled counter top where a tea set had already been laid out. 

He fills the already prepped teapot with boiling water from the kettle and lets the mixture of water and leaves sit for a moment or two as he busies himself in the kitchen, scavenging for snacks and titbits. It must’ve been a minute or five when he’s returned with cheesecake and cinnamon rolls on polished platters, and he takes another minute or so to empty out a packet of mixed nuts into a small glass bowl. Once he’s done with that, he pours out the tea into two matching tea cups.

Maharajah Darjeeling. Expensive blend it was. Pricey, just like the cheesecake, and organic nuts. But he supposes he can afford to be generous seeing how he’s planning to break some not-so-pleasant news. It’s rather amusing, even to himself, how much effort he’s putting into setting up, and Jaehyun can’t help but chuckle just the slightest. 

But Kyungil was a nice guy; Easy to get along with, to talk with. If he wants a break, he wants to do it cleanly, amicably. 

Arranging the plates, bowls and tea set onto a large tray, he carries it over to the coffee table in the living room. Just as he settles it down, there’s a knock on his door. “Coming!”

Striding over to the entrance, he heaves the door open, coming face to face with his invited guest. “Hyung,” He greets, a small smile on his face, “Come in.”

[advxjjong]

i’m blue (da ba dee)→ kj & sk

📢 starter for! @advkyungil 📢 tw-- alcohol, language, depression

The lights in the bar were dim. Jonghyun always thought that having the lighting like this was kind of useless. Don’t bar owners know that it’s hard to read when you’re drunk? How does having barely-there lighting help with that? Currently, Jjong is perched upon a bar stool, having thrown back three drinks already and the night was fairly young. He was at a new bar than his typical because according to his usual spot taking off your shirt when you’re too hot is “alarmingly inappropriate”. So he decided to shun them for a short time as a way to rebel against that dumb claim.

Don’t they know what kind of body he has? Ridiculous. 

Anyway, Jjong was at a new bar because he’s being petty. It’s alright in his opinion-- it has this masculine vibe to it. The bar had a cherry stain to it and the prices were moderate. He usually got discounts at his usual place but since they’re being dumb he’ll just have to deal with this. 

It was pretty crowded for a Thursday night. Jjong might’ve saw a sign about it being “thirsty Thursday” and that must be what brings people in on any day that isn’t a weekend. Jjong had already talked to several people at the bar already, not quite plastered yet but he was certainly making his way there. The girls he talked to were pretty, a couple of them eyeing him up and down since the long-sleeved shirt he was wearing was showing off his physique quite nicely. Not to mention the fashionably ripped black jeans and expensive looking boots he’s practically screaming that he’s made of money vibe ( when he isn’t, but no one needed to know that ). 

He was spacing out now, not noticing that an acquaintance from the foundation sitting next to him. The strangers he was talking to earlier left to go do something moments ago. Jjong promptly forgot what they said they were going to do not even five seconds after they spoke it, but that was fine. He was certain he’d never see them again for the rest of the night. The bartender he spoke to for a little bit was pretty swamped, but he looked to be in a good mood since his shift was ending soon. 

But Jonghyun was on a different world. He was starting to feel the alcohol now, which was shitty since his mind was starting to wonder to the dark corners he’s hidden from the world. A part of him curses himself. He knew he shouldn’t have changed it up and gotten whiskey-- this always happens when he’s drinking whiskey. He has no idea as to why, but he already had plenty of it so far and there wasn’t really much he could do about the glass he was drinking now. Might as well go all in and let the sadness overtake him. 

Go big or go home, right?

[avtrose-blog]

carry me home tonight

@advkyungil

The lights dance behind her eyelids when she closes them, turning her head down against the cool metal of the bar table. They hurt. There are phosphenes hammering away at her head and the alcohol has lost its burn down her throat but it’s settled for her stomach instead. It’s a small penance to pay.

This is an unfamiliar bar, one she’d just burst in three, four? hours ago and ordered a random drink, the strongest one the bartender had offered up and her eyes watered immediately but she downed the whole thing. She found the problem with controlling her bloodlust properly - everything else that it’d staved off comes rushing up as angry as she used to be, guilt and grief and the shittiest bitter feeling just underneath her ribcage. The air feels soggy, she thinks, it’s hard to breathe and she’s vaguely aware that her nose is starting to ache the way it does when she cries.

“More, please!”

The bartender offers up something that doesn’t feel as strong as what she’s been given for most of the night. It isn’t good enough, doesn’t hurt enough, but she takes it anyway. This is her punishment, falling so easily into it she knows she should have done it a long time ago. The fighting ring had been the only place for her, she supposes, neck deep in death and still. Still she did what she was told.

There are tears now, salty horrible things she hadn’t known she was quite capable of until last year, and it seems even drinking doesn’t make it stop. The back of her head feels like its been torn out, thrown on the floor, but it’s not enough. She asks for another drink, rubbing at her eyes. Her life is fucked to hell and back and she can’t find her way, even as other people try to help her. She deserves this, for everything she’s done. It’s just a matter of punishment now.

[advhari]

“but did you do it?”

⤿ drabble prompts

Her earnest argument bounced right off him once again.

“I. Really. Did.” Each word had an extra amount of stress behind them so she could get her point across. But given the napping cat nearby she kept her voice hushed for its sake.

“I.” She pointed to herself with both index fingers.

“Hit three.” Three fingers were held up clearly in front of him.

“Strikes.” Her hands paused in the air for a second or two. There wasn’t really a gesture she could act out for that one. The wrinkles rippled across her forehead as she gave it more thought, but nothing came to her. 

Short of actually attempting to hit another turkey in a bowling game, she didn’t know what else she could do to convince him. She didn’t have much to her name outside of small accomplishments like that one, but her pride wouldn’t take much damage if he didn’t believe her. The cat with the black patches over its yellow fur had given her its love and that was more than enough. She couldn’t feel anything but content ever since the cat made her lap its bed.

“Kyungil, give me my phone please?” The device sat on the edge of a couch cushion that was well outside of her reach. “I want to take photos. Your cat is cute. I need photos.” The option to get up herself was out of the question since a slight movement might drive the cat away. She didn’t need anything else leaving her. 

[advjingoo]

Patient Zero | Kyungil & Jin Goo

Pain. That was always what woke him up. Jin Goo’s eyes open amidst discomfort bordering on actual pain. He’s lying facedown in his cage, the box hat had miraculously been able to contain his beast. In retaliation though, it frequently chooses to try and break him upon transforming back. He supposes it’s better that way. Better him broken than some innocents. And he’d survive. His beast would make sure of it. His injuries were usually painful but not critical. After all, if he died, so would his beast.

It’s barely morning. Jin Goo can see just the tiniest bit of light seeping into his room from the window. Alright. Basic check. He curls his toes and taps the fingers of his right hand to his thumb. He tries to do the same with his left hand only to find that he… can’t. Instead, the slight movement cause a sharp pain to shoot up his arm. He grimaces and pushes himself up with his good arm. Looking over, he spies the white of his bone. That and blood running down his arm. Great.

That calls for another visit to the medical ward. He was practically a regular there, though only a few people knew why he kept coming in every so often. Sometimes he would get lucky with only large bruises, but a fair amount of the time at least one bone was broken, and a rib was cracked.

He presses a few fingers to his side and winces. Yep. Two cracked ribs, and a definitely broken forearm. This was turning out to be a great day. At least he didn’t have any classes to teach. He manages to slip on a t-shirt and pants before heading over to the medical ward. At this point, he doesn’t even have to announce anything. He simply settles onto an empty bed and lies down, exhaustion washing over him. It’s not even 7am yet and he’s already off to a grand start.

[hansoladv-blog]

“then what do you suggest?”

Sentence Starters

There’s a smile on his face as he looks over at the man next to him. He and Kyungil have quite the odd relationship. Then again, when has he ever had a normal relationship? What does a normal relationship even look like? There’s little about Hansol that could even get close to being normal, and he likes it that way. If he started to become to average he would become insanely bored. He shakes his head and props his head on his hand. A small hum bubbles up as he thinks over the situation. He’s not big on advice but if Kyungil needs a hand he would never turn him down! A friend in need and all of that talk.

“Well, your brother is sort of, uh… Well, he’s a bit unintelligent, isn’t he?” That is an understatement, but Hansol isn’t about to go on about it. “Maybe he just hasn’t realized it yet? Give him a little more time and I’m sure he’ll come talk to you. Family is bad about the whole keeping secrets thing, right?” He’s smiling still- though there’s a bit of pity in his expression. Having a younger brother as dumb as Minhyuk is a bit troublesome sounding… Hansol hasn’t exactly kept the closest look on the angry batter (mostly because being hypnotized sounds as far from his ideal of a good time as anything), but from what he does know, Minhyuk seems like a pain in the ass.

And now his poor older brother is having to deal with the consequences.  In a way, the whole situation reminds Hansol of his own brother, but he wouldn’t dare bring it up. His heart drops just a little at the idea of how hard his brother always seemed to work… Kyungil is an awful lot like him. Maybe that’s why Hansol is so drawn to people older than him in the first place. He pushes those thoughts away. This isn’t about him. It’s about Kyungil’s brother who isn’t willing to talk about his issues.

“He’ll come around. There’s no way he can keep hiding things from you forever.”

[advxminhyuk-blog]

Helpful Advice™

@advkyungil

Alright, so maybe Minhyuk is the worst when it comes to actually talking about his problems. Sure, when they’re small he can go on about them for hours like there’s an apocalypse coming and he needs to get them off his chest, but the moment it comes down to serious topics he really can’t bring himself to so much as open his mouth. He just sort of clams up and feels like a total moron (Sort of like his best friend does around cute girls or when Minhyuk sees free food). He’s bad at talking about the big stuff and that’s why he usually needs some sort of an excuse to talk to someone about his major issues. Granted, he still gets tongue-tied and wide eyed when it comes to actually talking but at least he doesn’t need to just walk up and yell about his issues.

Of course, he can’t be expected to just go on about his real problems to just anyone. That would be awkward and sort of weird all around. No random stranger should have to deal with his personal bullshit (though the less personal bullshit is open to the public with little restriction). That’s why he’s walking across the dorm area to the cogender dorms. His older brother lives here, which is exactly the kind of thing he needs. The two of them already planned to have dinner (not because Minhyuk can’t cook but more because he has no money to buy things and sometimes it feels bad to steal Show’s shit), and now Minhyuk is using the dinner as a good point to talk about his problems to his awesome and understanding older brother. Kyungil has never been one to judge in the past, so Minhyuk is positive he’s the right one to talk to in this sort of situation.

The idea of Kyungil actually deciding to judge him is extremely nerve-racking, though. Minhyuk’s bad with upsetting people- most people. Sure, he makes a lot of cops angry and he works nights intentionally making rich dudes want to scream for money, but it’s different when its people he sort of likes or even people who he knows very little about. Jerks deserve to get their things smashed, but nice passerbys deserve to be treated well and Minhyuk would really rather keep them happy with him. He frowns a little as he knocks on the door. It’s a little sad that he can’t have a key, but it makes sense. Kyungil’s roommate probably wouldn’t appreciate the, er... Sort of punk brat little brother suddenly showing up in the room everytime Show has visitors or something.

He reaches down to scratch Bulgogi’s head just a little. The dog is just panting and wiggling what stub of a tail he has. He obviously knows what’s up, and soon he’ll be able to play with all of Kyungil’s cats! Minhyuk just shakes his head and grins when the door is opened. It smells like food is already cooking.

“Hey~!” He smirks and gives a wave before inviting himself in. “I brought B to play with the kitties! He’s been super excited.” There’s a left off part where he wants to mention that he’s excited too. It’s about time he got this nonsense off his chest. Hopefully he could. The idea of even bringing it up is really more than he can handle. He just shakes his head a little.

“Smells good. Whatcha’ makin’?”

[advxjjong]

rosy cheeks→ kj & sk

📢 starter for! @advkyungil 📢

Jonghyun, in lack of better terms, is often a hot mess-- except not usually the hot aspect of the whole phrase so really he’s just a mess. He does, however, try his best so it almost balances out how much he tends to fuck up unintentionally. He’s not a bad guy, he likes to think. He doesn’t like to eat other people or dig his nose into other people’s business or try to manipulate people. Jonghyun doesn’t do that kind of stuff! He likes to have fun and while most of the time that means getting drunk off his ass, at least he has somewhat of a support base that’ll peel his plastered ass off the pavement.

Today, Jonghyun was going to try his darnedest to meet someone he’s heard many whispers about. His name was Kyungil and Jonghyun was convinced he could help answer his dire questions. There was a couple of details he was forgetting ( perhaps one about his family, Jjong supposes, but at the moment his brain was drawing a blank so he’ll remember at some point ) but other than that the sonic screamer was lead to believe that this guy was harmless. He’s never really met someone as skilled as he’s whispered to be, so Jonghyun hopes that doesn’t do anything to kill his confidence.

He finds him in the co-gendered common room, and Jonghyun all but fell face first on the floor from tripping over what seemingly is his own two feet. If he was drinking something, he probably would’ve done a spit take because everyone failed to mention that this Kyungil guy was gorgeous. Fuck, Jonghyun thinks, not knowing how to pick up his shattered dignity from the ground he laid on. Maybe I should just lay here and pretend I don’t exist, he thinks, the idea sounding fantastic and even better if his mutation was invisibility instead of screaming. But the guy had already saw him-- probably brought on by the seemingly embarrassing squawk that Jjong made when he fell-- and the sonic screamer didn’t quite know how to do just about anything at the moment. So he did the only thing he could and that was to get back up and pretend that nothing happened.