xxshuchun-blog

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xjaqk‌:

→ shuchun’s quip earns her a squint of his eyes and the jut of his chin, face pulling into a pout as jack expresses his displeasure. he knows shuchun is only teasing but he still makes a face and rocks his head side to side, mocking her words with an exaggerated expression before he settles himself down. he’s fortunate shuchun is so patient with him. given the difference in their age, others would have put him in his place before he could even think to raise a fit. and in the second before jack could begin voicing his complaints, shuchun is already giving in to his request. 

“i’m fed in all the ways i want to be so, why not? you said it’s dying and we’re already dead, so let’s take it with us.” scooting himself forward, jack raises his hands chest height and wiggles his fingers. “why don’t you teach me the special things i can do with my hands?”

not a fortress, the older vampire is not overly concerned with the look on jack’s face or his obvious displeasure. instead she sits, a queenly brow raised, a soft dare. willing him to act out so she might tease him endlessly about the incident for centuries to come. a vampiress must take the fun where it can be found. when it does not come, her face relaxes, placid and serene. “you are predictable,” it is said as a fact, not lacking affection as brown meets brown in a steady gaze. weights are lifted and free from confines the edges of her parchment begin to roll in on themselves, short work made of stashing the missive before a fresh sheet takes it’s place. 

a quick flourish of movement had added fresh ink to the grind, followed by a splash of water which she then mixed, slow and meticulous. “if you truly wish to learn there are books i can recommend to you. though you do not strike me as the type who wishes to spend hours learning and perfecting your calligraphy...” she added, opening a drawer within her desk she produced several more, clean brushes, their hairs pristine and dove grey. “how many other dead women do you know, that run three successful business and still hand write their own missives?”   

[xxshuchun-blog]

sydkngz‌:

starter for @xxshuchun ♡ 

sydney has always been a fan of drinking, but perhaps sitting on the kitchen countertop in the dark while sipping on her red wine isn’t the most ideal way to enjoy her drink — it’s three a.m. and the last time she checks half of the people living here aren’t home, so she thinks it’s safe for her to call this place her own, until someone shows up. “oh, hey. sorry to startle you.”

there is a raise of her regal gaze, if she was startled, it would be news to her. shuchun holds a gaze with serenity in its depths, gaze a deep mahogany in the low lights. “i do not believe an apology is strictly necessary within this situation,” is granted as she crosses to the cabinet within which is kept a store of baijiu and other assorted alcoholic beverages. “it is a shared space, after all. you are perfectly within your rights...though i do question your choice of seating arrangement.” 

[xxshuchun-blog]

헤이즈 (Heize) - 오롯이

[xxshuchun-blog]

beanstlk‌:

T H E   women  are  as  different  as  the  sun  and  the  moon;  shuchun  moves  with  such  grace,  maintains  the  image  of  a  woman  from  times  long  forgotten,  and  her  years  show  even  as  she  speaks.  bean  on  the  other  hand,  disregards  her  own  age  entirely;  she  dresses  like  the  modern  woman  of  her  age.  “as  unbelievable  as  it  might  be,  you  and  i  are  the  only  ones  here.”  she  comments,  stepping  around  the  seated  woman  with  eyes  falling  to  the  works  of  scripture,  archaic  scribbles  on  a  sheet  under  the  tip  of  her  brush.  “come  play  with  me.”

“i hardly think so,” she is slow to speak, careful with her words. there is no desire to offend as she writes her monthly correspondence, the target of her missive unknown as no name appears. the daily going-on’s within the manor detailed in elegance as her they are crafted by slight twists of her wrist. “i am far too old for such things as play. it implies a rather brash childishness i do not believe myself capable of pulling off. however.” she comes to a natural pause, lifts brush from parchment with a soft smile. “there is always time for shopping within my schedule. if you are inclined.” 

[xxshuchun-blog]

xjaqk‌:

she knows him too well. jack is no fan of silence and less so when the only presence in an otherwise empty room is his own. he had wandered upon discovering his roommates gone and while shuchun was rarely his first choice, he finds himself drawn to her. he twists his nose at the air’s scent but otherwise makes no comment as he takes a seat before her, legs crossing as he makes himself comfortable. he leans forward once he’s settled, peeking at what she’s working on. “is this what you were planning to do all night? can you teach me?”

it is with no shortage of struggle that she forces her hand to draw the characters of the name she has used since first stepping foot upon korean soil, song soyoung as odd as the foreign words that stuck in her throat. when it is done there is a flourish of movement as she deposits the brush on it’s stand, pulls her arm back allowing the hand to rest in her lap, sweeping  long sleeves back into place the pristine white chiffon unblemished by  treacherous black ink. “i was sure you were already trained in the art of reading and writing,” her musing is accompanied by a slight, though dignified smile, a twinkle in the eye shows she is joking, though her tone has barely changed. “the art of calligraphy is dying it seems in these modern days...i suppose i might teach you if you are truly that at a loss for what other things to do.” 

[xxshuchun-blog]

she is freshly fed, radiant as she sits, picture perfect posture, the long sleeves of her hanfu pulled back as she prepares her correspondence as in the days of old, a fresh ink stone turning the air bitter as every stroke she lays to parchment is embedded with royal elegance. “you are not an unwelcome intruder,” is mused from between lightly glossed lips, electric brown eyes the color of rain soaked earth raise for a time to examine the other. “though your business is unknown. to what do i owe this visit?” though she speaks her hand never stills, and continues to draw perfect flowing script until her message is complete. “or are you perhaps seeking entertainment?” 

[xxshuchun-blog]

[xxshuchun-blog]

“The dark is generous, and it is patient, and it always wins. It always wins because it is everywhere. It is in the wood that burns in your hearth, and in the kettle on the fire; it is under your chair and under your table and under the sheets on your bed. Walk in the midday sun, and the dark is with you, attached to the soles of your feet. The brightest light casts the darkest shadow.” 

― Matthew Stover

* — MEDIEVAL .

tired eyes.  coffee stains on the table.  listening to the bustle of the city.  unmade beds.  loose ponytails.  sunlight seeping through the curtains.  chapped lips.  walking barefoot across the floorboards.  dusty dictionaries.  black and white reruns.  huge sweaters.  the ticking of the clock.  hearing birds in the morning.  fireplaces.  falling asleep during class.

* — RENAISSANCE .

freckles.  the sun rising.  watching the sea.  taking shots of the city.  historical museums.  bright eyes.  looking up at the clouds.  walls covered in artworks.   drawing in the middle of lessons.  tracing your fingers on the sand.  painting for hours.  staying in uncrowded coffee-shops.  worn paperbacks.  messy braids.  going to bed with your socks on.

* — BAROQUE .

dark hair.  a little sophisticated.  always observing the world around you.  intricate designs.  high ceilings.  extravagant musical pieces.  dim lights.  colorless photographs.  fancy furniture.  pale skin.  hearing soft footfalls coming from outside the room.  mischievous looks.  bitten nails.  candlelight dinners.  dark shades of lipstick.

* — CLASSICAL .

chandeliers.  the clinking of a teacup.  laced clothing.  modern architecture.  light hair.  watching the view from the terrace.  hidden birthmarks.  drinking tea in the morning.  wandering about in an empty building.  botanical gardens.  old films.  ancient marble sculptures.  expensive perfume.  breakfasts in bed.  reading about mythology.  soft, echoing piano keys.

* — ROMANCE .

compassion.  short writings on scraps of paper.  blushed cheeks.  a bouquet of roses.  reading collections of poetry late at night.  loose hair.  carpeted floors.  attending operas.  faint music playing in the background.  staying under the covers until midday.  staring at the night sky.  picking flowers.  dancing around in silk dresses.  scented candles.  dancing under moonlight.  

* — HORROR .

winged eyeliner.  black lace lingerie.  rain.  poison.  voyeurism.  switchblades.  strangling.  overcoats.  looking over your shoulder.  dinner parties.  perfect blonde curls.  horn-rimmed glasses.  serial murder.  suspicion.  paranoia.  analog cameras.  memory loss.  dismembered bodies.  cell phones.  video cameras.  cars with tinted windows.  unlabeled cassette tapes.  something rustling outside your window.  hearing white noise.  unwavering eye contact.  bloodied knuckles.  claws.  eerie whispers.  a figure in a dark corner.  a heavy-beating pulse.  an unexplained feeling of dread.  the scent of blood in the air.  repressed, horrible memories.

* — GOTHIC .

corsets.  ballrooms.  candlelight.  full moons.  velvet.  silver.  brass.  gold.  jewels.  domino masks.  tragic romances.  violins.  roses.  lilies.  empty coffins.  religion.  crows.  milk-white skin.  fangs.  pointed nails.  something howling in the night.  capes.  cigarettes.  gloves.  top hats.  old photographs.  isolation in a room full of people.  bite marks on the skin.  walking along train tacks at night.  tear-stained cheeks.  an eerie doll.  an old book covered in dust.  withered plants.

[xxshuchun-blog]

sorry friends~ i had inventory at my work and had to switch to graveyard shifts to get things ready! hello to all the new people i haven’t been able to greet yet, i would love to plot with you! <3 i will be up for a while if anyone is here. otherwise, i will see you guys tonight! 

[xxshuchun-blog]

szihao‌:

“you know i wouldn’t flatter you if it weren’t true.” he sung out, pushing himself to a proper sitting vantage, accepting and stuffing the pillow back into it’s rightful place. that woman was always so graceful and patient; perhaps a little understanding, too, when it came to the young man she always doted upon like a kindred spirit. getting up was the least he could do for her, despite how early he’d deemed it to be. carefully swinging his legs off the bed, his feet finding slippers waiting on the floor where he’d left them, zihao yawned, a sun slowly making peace with his predicament. “how long have you been up?”

“i believe you are generally a very honest man,” she agrees. a graceful bow follows the starts of his movements, a proper greeting for the young one she had so lovingly deemed little emperor. her lips upturned in a delighted smile. it is rare for her to find such happiness in one so young, and while shuchun doubts she will be allowed to dote and coddle him forever the way she does now, she hopes there is a century or two left before he finds his independence streak. “hm...” head tilted she hums in thought, “perhaps eleven a.m. though it is hard to tell. you know things such as time have very little baring for me anymore.” 

[xxshuchun-blog]

szihao‌:

her voice registers and sends the young prince upright, almost as quickly as he’d reacted to the disruptive presence without thought to first recognize the figure first. hunched over and on his knees as he listens to her explanation, with eyes forced to adjust to the dim lighting. “can’t you wait just a few more hours?” he sighs, twisting his head back over his shoulder to glance at the woman in wait. he already knew what her answer would be. “mama — you look lovely today.”

“flattery is likely to take you many places, my little emperor,” words spoken with lips curled in satisfaction. “except perhaps, out of this agreement.” she did not so much walk across the room, as she floated with steps undocumented, hidden below layers of heavy silks that trailed long across the floor, swishing as she moved to collect the pillow, which, upon coming to a graceful kneel at the bedside she offered to him, a soft laugh and slight bow accompanying her actions. “good morning, our sun. please rise now.” 

[xxshuchun-blog]

szihao‌:

groaning as he flung a pillow across the room in the general direction of a disturbance during his slumber, zihao was forced to roll onto his stomach, burying his face in the silk of his sheets. it was early. around 2 pm. he could tell even though there was no clock to confirm the hour — the sun was still up, hitting curtains that kept sensitive skin protected from the light of day. “what do you want?” he asked in a suffocated grumble. “go back to bed.”

“song zihao, you must have lost your mind. or are you really throwing things at me on purpose? for your sake, i hope that isn’t the case.” there is an air of ethereal beauty to the former concubine. stillness reigns in her frame, only hickory eyes follow the path of the projectile pillow. “you agreed several days since to be my model while i finish this set of robes, you children may indeed be satisfied to waste your immortality, but i am not and the piper has come to collect. up.” 

[xxshuchun-blog]

I’m all skin and bone and song-seized, wine-wild and each year more abandoned

Po Chu-i, translated by David Hinton, from “Forty-Five”

行年四十五，雨鬓半苍苍。 清瘦诗成癖，粗豪酒放狂。 老来尤委命，安处即为乡。 或拟庐山下，来春结草堂。

(via apoemforyourdash)

[xxshuchun-blog]