#>somehow escapes telephone bullshit

[crimsonajax]

how does this even happen to someone twice

#her ass did NOT escape!! #dedf1sh #octoplush #splatbands #splatoon #splatoon 3 #>somehow escapes telephone bullshit #>immediately gets fuzzed by a bear #what the fuck splatoon #35 caught #insert the if i had a nickel meme here

[shinishinigummy]

Whumptober 2021: Day 25

HIDE & SEEK

Poppy Playtime OC Fanfic | escape | flight | hiding

Summary: After quitting his nightly janitor job at Playtime Co., Ed takes a break to rest and recuperate. One night at 3 am, he gets a distressing call that sends shivers down his spine..

Note: I wrote this out of the sheer terror I had after watching multiple playthroughs of Poppy Playtime. I have never, EVER felt so scared of a toy in my life than Huggy-fuckin-Wuggy. Also, this is the first time I’m doing a sort of chase scene through the telephone so forgive mt for the poor execution (spoilers lol).

Now is not yet your time.

Get up.

I can hear the sounds of screams ringing in my ears, the eyes of a thousand toys that I swear are following my direction every time I look up from sweeping and scrubbing the floors. Each night, I can sense those eyes, those little beads of white on black that seem to want to break out of their manufactured boxes.

The worst I’ve ever seen of it were the employees that seemed to never have come back after their shift. The boss says that it was because they weren’t able to comply with factory standards, but I know that’s not true. Something’s being hidden here, but I don’t know what.

A week after I resigned, I kept some close contact with my buddy Eric. He’d always be on the shift after me, and everytime we switched places, I could see him looking terrified. I even tried talking to him about it, but all the time, he says that it’s nothing. It’s just our nerves getting the better of us.

Bullshit.

Sometimes, in the middle of the night, I would wake up, screaming, but I don’t know what it is I saw. Something.. Like teeth. Rows and rows of razor-sharp teeth, threatening to swallow me whole.

I think I need to see the doctor. But.. I don’t know what to tell ‘em. That I’m crazy? That some kid’s factory’s messing with my brain? I don’t know. Maybe I’m just overthinking this. I never picked up a rosary before but I think I’m gonna try doing what my mom used to do. To calm me, maybe fall asleep.

I’m suddenly awake when my home phone rings.No one ever calls me anymore, but that’s my fault. I needed some time for myself. I wonder who it is. I stretch my limbs, bleary-eyed, looking at the digital clock on my bedside before getting chills down my spine.

3 am.

Holy shit.

The phone kept ringing, and suddenly I felt the urge to ignore it. I don’t want anything to do with this anymore, if it’s from the factory. Fuck that.

I go back to bed, trying to shake away my fear. I count sheep, wanting to forget. But the damned phone keeps ringing. It’s cold, but I’m sweating in fear. I don’t want anything happening. If I keep ignoring it, it’ll surely end the call, yeah?

But it doesn’t. The sound of the phone drones in my ear, and maybe after a minute, it still keeps on going. Fuck. If I don’t open it, I might wake the neighbors. I put my hands over my face and sigh, turning towards my bedside. 3:03 am. Fuck. Witching Hour. Fuck..

“Damn it, damn it, damn it..!” I reach out and put the receiver up to my ear.

“H-Hello?”

There’s no response.

“Hello, who is this?”

Still no response. But I heard some sort of thump? Like someone banging on metal. It makes me think about the many vents and conveyor belts of the factory, where the multitude of plastic limbs and eyes would accompany my once-nightly cleanups. Fuck. I should stop thinking about them.

“Hey, it’s 3 am and I would love to get back to sleep. Uh.. who’s calling me?”

This time, I could hear some static, and someone.. Breathing? I don’t know. Maybe it’s just my brain messing with me again. But I know something’s not right. Something’s happening, and I can feel the fight-or-flight response. I gotta hang up.

“Hey, is this a prank call? I’m hanging up. I don’t have time to play around.”

“HELP. HELP.”

Suddenly there’s a voice on the other end, somehow disembodied and hollow? Like speaking through a can. My hands are sweating. I think I know who’s talking.

“E-Eric? Eric, man, is that you?”

Another thump, and I involuntarily shake. I sit upright, hyperfocusing on the call. I could hear footsteps (were they footsteps?) at the other end, and erratic breathing.

“Ed! ..fuck..!” there’s a sound of banging on the other end, and some blood curdling scream from the distance. I’m panicking. I think I’m panicking. “Ed.. listen! You’ve got to fucking help me! Th-the--” there’s another scream, and this time it’s nearer. I curl my toes, and close my eyes, trying to control my breathing. There’s a squeak of some hinge and a small thud.

“Eric, what the fuck is happening? Are you in the factory?!”

“Yeah!” He breathes erratically, but keeps his voice down.. “Dude, look, I don’t have much time, I’m hiding in one of the employee locker rooms, you know? The one on the second floor?”

“Yeah, yeah, I hear you. Listen, what the fuck is happening there?”

“Can you come pick me up, man? The fucking.. The fucking DOLL, it came alive! Oh god--”

There’s a thump on the other end, and skittering. There’s a moment of silence and Eric whimpers on the other end. I think he’s still in the locker, trying to not make a sound. I’m taking my wallet, trying to look at the floorplan I still have of the factory, then I take a pen from my drawer. I look at the second page and I nod to myself. I think I know where Eric is.

“Listen, Eric. I’m a state away from you. Even if I drive now, I won’t be able to make it there in two days. Buddy. I’m sorry, okay?”

Eric whimpers on the other end, and I swear I can imagine him gritting his teeth as there’s a sudden loud THUMP, and I’m standing at the edge of my bed. I’m shining a light on the map and I’m drawing a line, maybe the nearest exit possible. I think I know where he can go.

“Eric, my man, you there?”

“Y-yeah, I’m here. It’s uh..” there’s a slight pause, “it’s all quiet now. I think. I’m looking through the slits in the locker.. Oh fuck… why the fuck is there blood--”

He’s gurgling and I think he’s going to throw up.

“Buddy hold it in!”

Too late. I heard the sound of a heave and liquid pouring down.

“Man, look. Calm down. You’re not going to achieve anything from hiding there. Whatever’s pursuing you--” I look at the map again, “it can’t reach you if you get out of there as fast as you can. Alright? I know the way. I still have my map.”

“O-okay. Yeah.. you’re right..”

“You’re on the second floor. Which means you’re probably on the east wing, where the lockers are. There’s a fire exit on your right, if I’m right, that should be unlocked. You got that?”

“Y-yeah.. Yeah..”

“Alright. Go. Now. Be my eyes and ears, I’ll guide you.”

What I assume is the locker door opens, and I can hear Eric whimper on the other end. There’s a little bit of static and I can hear his footsteps. There’s a slight struggle as he tries to open what I assume is the fire exit door and it does, swinging open, really loudly. I cringed, my teeth gritting. Fuck.

“The..the coast is clear.. Um… fuck.. Okay.. uh down?”

“You’re in the fire exit now? Good. Okay, go up one flight of stairs. There’s supposed to be a door there that leads straight to the cafeteria. Then I think you already know from there yeah?”

I hear a flight of stairs and a piercing scream and my heart thumps in my chest. “Eric what the fuck was that--”

“IT’S BEHIND ME IT’S BEHIND ME IT’S CRAWLING UP FROM THE STAIRS OH GOD OH FUCKKKK--”

“RUN! JUST RUN, ERIC!”

I hear Eric’s erratic breathing and his footsteps as he ascends the hallway, and I can hear small pitter-patter of footsteps behind him, and I’m sweating, trying to hold on to the phone and keeping my wits with me. Oh god. I’m in my house, I’m okay. But Eric isn’t. And I’m fearing for his life. His life depends on me. I have to save him. I have to--

I hear a door swinging open and I hear Eric dashing through an open area, I think it’s the cafeteria. I can hear the squeaks of his rubber shoes on the polished floor and all around him are the sounds, distorted sounds of the Playtime Co. anthem on speaker and it makes me want to hang up, but I won’t. I have to help him escape.

“Eric. Don’t look back. Just keep running. Once you get out of the cafeteria, make a quick right. You’ll be at the factory entrance. Just a bit more okay? Eric?”

“Yeah! Oh god, oh fuck, Ed it’s behind me, and it’s MASSIVE--”

“I TOLD YOU NOT TO LOOK BACK! Just keep running, yeah? There should be a double door--”

“ED! OH FUCK, THE HANDS!”

There’s a chill down my spine. The Grabpack. “Eric, you don’t have your Grabpack with you?”

“OH GOD, OH GOD, OH F--”

I hear him screaming as he thumps on something repeatedly, and lastly, the swinging of the big double doors. It’s done. He’s out of there.

“Just keep running, keep running, Eric, turn right!”

“I AM!”

I continue to hear the squeak of his shoes and another thump, followed by another. Eric lets out a moan, I think it’s him. “Eric, bud, what happened?”

There’s sounds of something muffled on the line, intelligible. I don’t know what the fuck that is. I’m gripping the phone tight that my nails are already digging in my palms. “Eric, talk to me!”

There’s only silence. Then static. Then, the line drops. My heart wants to burst out of my chest. I try to dial the number, Eric’s number. I think that’s his phone. Just seven numbers. This is fine, this is fine, but Eric isn’t. I have to call. I hear the dial, but there’s no response. I’m sweating, pacing my room. What doll? What’s chasing after him, could it be..

Then, suddenly, my phone rings. I pick it up and answer even before the first chime ends. “Eric, bud, you ok?”

There’s only static on the other end.

“Eric?”

“Hey, Ed.” I let out an audible sigh of relief, but at the same time, I kept my guard up. The jig’s probably not over yet. “Are you out already?”

There’s silence on the other end. I can barely hear anything. It’s as if it’s muffled. But I’m sure that’s Eric’s voice. “Yeah, I’m free now.”

Free? What..

“You mean, you got out of the factory already? Nothing’s chasing you anymore?”

More silence. My stomach sinks. Something’s wrong.

“Yeah. I’m fine now. It’s all good now.” I think I can hear a smile in his voice.. What..?

“Are you sure, Eric? You don’t.. You don’t sound like what you sounded a while ago.”

“I said, Ed, I’m okay now. You don’t have to worry about me.”

“You saying that makes me worry even more! Eric, if you need it, I can pick you up--”

“It’s okay now. You don’t have to worry about me anymore. Just.. forget it, okay? It was just my mind playing tricks on me again.”

I can feel something’s wrong. I don’t know. I have to start packing.

“Hey, I’m getting over there as early as I can. By tomorrow morning, I’ll be there. Go to the police, report whatever’s happening there, and stay there okay? I can help you. Drive you to your house if you need to.”

“Everything’s been taken care of, Ed. It’s alright now.”

“It doesn’t seem to be that way.”

There’s some laugh, and a rumble on the other end, but it seemed like more of a growl. I stop in my tracks.

“One way or another, everything will turn out for the best, Ed. Goodbye now.”

The line ends, and my phone doesn’t ring for the rest of the night.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

It’s morning now.

I’m in my car and I’m driving across the country to head to Playtime Co. the fastest way possible. Eric, or if that even WAS him, scared me. That last line tells me that somehow, something’s happening. And if no one does anything, maybe there would be consequences.

I stop at the front of Playtime Co., the largest factory this side of the state.

I get out of my car, take my supplies, trusty map, and the Grabpack. Somehow they let me have this. A keepsake of fun times, I guess?

I head inside, like going into the belly of the beast.

#whumptober2021 #no.25 #escape #flight #hiding #poppy playtime #fic #blood #chase scene #horror #telephone #huggy wuggy #OC

[fixxofvixx]

BLOODRIGHT - Vampire Taekwoon AU - Chapter Eighteen

Hello my valentines!! My weekend has been crazy so far with my greeting card job! I think it's been busier than Christmas! I would like to wish all of my beautiful readers a Happy Valentine's Day!

I hope you enjoy the chapter and lemme know what you think!💖💖💖💖

🧛‍♂️🧛‍♂️🧛‍♂️🧛‍♂️🧛‍♂️🧛‍♂️

Taekwoon picked up his cell phone and dialed a number that he hadn't in years.  He wasn't even sure if the number still worked.  The line picked up right after the first ring.

"Taekwoon, I never dreamed that you would ring me first.  I suppose that donor has some influence over her master after all."  Kaxon’s all too familiar voice now sounded sarcastic and calculating.  It no longer held any of its previous warmth and sensibility.  The change instantly irritated Taekwoon.

"Cut the bullshit, Kaxon, and tell me what you want."

"Well....in the simplest of terms, I would like to borrow your donor."

----------------------

Taekwoon's mood became darker and his body turned stiff.

"Did you think I would just readily agree to that?  Whatever you're planning, I would suggest that you rethink it right now.  You won't come near her.  Hell, I don't even want her to be on the same planet as you.  So try anything with her and I will make sure Khan becomes an only child."

"You're always so quick to threaten lives.  You won't even let me explain why?"  Taekwoon could hear the amusement in Kaxon's voice and he hated it.

"Does that even deserve an answer?  You knew I would refuse so why do I need to know what you're planning?"

"Because it could benefit you as well.  If you would only allow me some time with her then I--"

Taekwoon ended the call and had to stop himself from launching the phone at the wall.  A few moments later, the phone rang again. He pressed the answer button and yelled into the phone.

"Lose this number, asshole.  You can't have her, you son of a bitch.  Do you understand me?!"

"Jung Taekwoon, how dare you talk to your mother like that!  What in the world?"  Taekwoon jumped at the sound of his mother's voice and took the phone from his ear to check the caller ID.  Sure enough, his mother's number was on the screen.

"Mom.....I...I'm sorry."  Taekwoon collapsed into the chair behind him and ran his hand through his hair.  "I thought you were someone else.  I didn't look at the caller ID."

"Tell me what's happened, dear.  Is y/n alright?"

Taekwoon told his mother everything that had happened with Kaxon in the past couple of days.

"Just the thought of her being near that asshole pisses me off.  I'll kill him before he lays a hand on her."

"I know you will protect her well, sweetheart.  Just remember not to let your anger overrule your good judgment.  He's smarter than Khan and very slippery.  Call me immediately if you need any help."

"I will, Mom, thank you.  I'm sorry, I didn't ask what you had called for.  Is everything alright?"

"Yes, everything is fine, sweetie.  I only called to check in on y/n.  How is she?"

"She's sleeping.  She had to go through all of that with the wreck and finding me then I ended up having to feed because I was too weak to heal properly.  Mom....I....."

"What is it, Taekwoon."

"Am I putting her in too much danger?  You don't think....she'll resent me for it, do you?"

"Oh my dear sweet boy, you are so head over heels for her, aren't you?"  Taekwoon just groaned and his mother laughed. "Taekwoon, stop worrying so much.  She likes you, I know that and you know that.  But if you have concerns, it won't make any difference if you ask me.  You need to ask her instead.  Don't keep things from her.  She's a strong woman, she can handle it."

"Thanks Mom." 

Taekwoon talked for a few more minutes before he heard y/n's heartbeat change rhythm.  He hung up from his mother and headed back to his room.  It only took him a second or two to climb the stairs and open the door.  His eyebrows furrowed when he saw you.  

You had kicked the covers off and you were sweating.  Somehow, you had taken off the pants you had been wearing.  He was too concerned to be distracted by your lack of clothing.  He thought that maybe you were too warm but then he saw your face.  You were restless but something else was wrong.  He didn’t think it was a nightmare but your vitals were way off.  When he reached the bed, he touched your face to find it covered in a cold sweat.  You jolted awake and raised your half-opened eyes to Taekwoon’s face.  

"Taekwoon?"

"Yes, love, it's me.  Are you alright?  I heard your heartbeat change and thought you'd be awake.  When I came in it looked like you were having trouble sleeping.  You feel as though you have a cold sweat.  Do you feel sick?"

"I don't know.  I don’t really feel all that great but it's probably from the loss of blood."  You raised up and rubbed your face a bit to chase away the sleep.  A short wave of dizziness hit you but you tried to ignore it. 

When you opened your eyes, you realized that your pants were gone.  You gasped loudly and desperately reached for the blanket to cover yourself. 

"Where are my pants?!"

 

Taekwoon chuckled and looked around the room.  He finally spotted a crumpled piece of clothing on the floor at the end of the bed.

"I assure you, I did not remove them myself.  I have been downstairs talking to my mother on the phone, I promise." Taekwoon chuckled and raised his hands in surrender.  You ran a hand through your hair and rubbed your eyes.

"No....I didn't mean to imply that you had done anything.  I know you wouldn't do that.  I had a habit of sleeping like this in my old apartment and I guess I wasn't thinking."

"I'm not one to tell you what you can and can't do.  If you're more comfortable this way, then I suppose I can allow it."  Taekwoon winked and your cheeks turned a nice shade of pink.  "In fact, if you ever feel too tired, I would be happy to help you with any removal of clothing."

"Taekwoon!"

Taekwoon laughed heartily at your obvious panic.  You put your head in your hands and tried to hide your embarrassment.

"I'm just joking, y/n."  He tried to get you to raise your head but you refused.  He pulled the hair away from your neck and leaned down to place a kiss on the nape of your neck.  You jumped at the contact and lifted your head to look at him.

"W-What are you doing?"  

"Kissing you.....I can't?"

"No, I didn't say that.  You know I don't mind.  I was just surprised, is all.  What did you talk about with your mom?"  He didn’t need to know you wouldn’t have minded if he continued.

"You."

"M-Me?  Why?"

"She just wanted to ask about how you were doing.  I explained about what happened with Kaxon and...."  He hesitated explaining further and looked deep in thought.  You placed your hand over his and he looked at you. 

"And?"

"And I asked her if she thought you would resent me for putting you in so much danger."

"Taekwoon, do you really use that brain of yours?  Why would I blame you for the actions of others?  If we're keeping track, you've been injured more than I have with all of this."

“My injuries don’t matter.  What matters is that I am supposed to protect you and so far….I don’t think I’ve done a very good job of that.  I don’t want you to regret your decision to be my donor.  Now that Kaxon has come into the picture, I’m worried about what he has planned."

"It won't do any good to sit and worry about what might happen.  All we can do is prepare the best way we can and just be cautious."

"I talked to him on the phone earlier, before I spoke with my mother."

"You did?  Why?"

"I called him.  My temper got the best of me and I asked what he wanted."

"So what does he want?"

"What do you think?"  You furrowed your brows for only a second before you realized what he was implying.  Kaxon wanted something with you.

"Do those two brothers have a one-track mind?"

"Their whole family is like that.  But I'll figure out what he wants.  He can't get in but I don't want you to feel locked up in here.”  He thought for a moment and then smiled.  “Should we go somewhere?"

"Where?"

"Anywhere you want.  Once you're feeling better, we can plan something if you want to."

"That sounds good."

----------------------------

Four days later and your condition hadn't improved.  You had taken the pills Taekwoon's mother had given you but they didn't help.  You felt so drained and could barely get up to go to the bathroom.  Taekwoon brought meals to you but you had a hard time keeping an appetite.  

Taekwoon's mother was arriving today to see if she could help.  Taekwoon was currently trying to talk her out of it on the phone.

"Mother, you don't have to make the trip.  It might not even have anything to do with her blood.  She's running a slight fever and feels tired and achy so she might just be coming down with something."

"I don't care.  I need to see her for myself.  I called the family doctor in and he'll meet me there.  Make sure we don't spontaneously combust once we reach your gate!"  His mother hung up and Taekwoon sighed.

"I'm sorry, love, I tried to talk her out of it."

"That's alright.  It's nice, actually, to feel what it's like to be taken care of by a parent."  

"Don't let my mother hear you say that.  She'll start planning balls and tea parties right away."

You laughed and started to ask about the kind of parties he'd had when his phone rang again.  Taekwoon lifted the phone to check the caller ID and a curse escaped his mouth. 

"Who is it?"

"Kaxon.  He keeps calling but I'm not--"

"Answer it."

"But--"

"We can't figure out what he wants if we don't talk to him.  We need to know."  Taekwoon nodded and sat down next to you on the bed.  He answered the phone and immediately turned on the speaker so you could hear as well.

"What do you want?"

"Taekwoon, my old buddy, why is it so hard to get you on the telephone?"

"Because I don't want to talk to you."

"Ouch.  You really should get rid of that anger.  It will eat you up inside."

"Get to the point, Kaxon."

"She's not feeling well, is she?"

#vixx vampire #taekwoon #vampire taekwoon #vixx fic #taekwoon fic #taekwoon au

[hanjisungz-remade]

penny for your thoughts? ☽ changbin

✦ genre: harry potter au, fluff, slow burn ✦ description: perhaps staying behind for christmas break would be good. you could get a lot of studying in for OWLs and since you were alone, you wouldn’t get distracted... except you weren’t alone ✦ pairings: seo changbin x reader ✦ word count: 28.2k ✦ warnings: mild language, tooth rotting fluff (seriously.... its a lot) ✦ a/n: ive had this idea for so long (nearly 4 years) and im so excited to finally write it! merry christmas and happy holidays in general to you all that celebrate, i hope you eat well and rest well and enjoy 💓 

i.

“Did you hear about the accident in Potions class today?” Jisung spoke quickly, elbow locked with your own as you tried to avoid being separated in the large crowd of students. Somehow he was always able to get the most gossip out of students and continue to stay at the top of your class. 

“No, I’ve been busy focusing on OWLs. I would tell you that you should study too but I know you’ll ace them all.” You nudged him, almost pushing him into a very annoyed looking Slytherin. 

“Hey! I’ve done my fair share of studying as well.” Jisung pouted but shook his head, focusing on shuffling his feet and recounting his story. “Okay so the accident. It was fucking hilarious, first of all. Secondly, I heard this first-year couldn’t tell the difference between fluxweed and knotgrass when they tried to make Polyjuice and they blew up the whole cauldron, like boom!” He made an explosion motion with his hands.

“To be fair you’re quite the handful in Potions as well, and that's coming from your partner.” You thought back to Jisung burning his eyebrows off in third-year after incorrectly mixing ingredients among the many other things you’ve had to endure the past years.

“I will have you know, I am the best partner ever. You get better marks because you fix my mistakes!” Jisung was about to go on but he suddenly lifted his head, a soft, “woah” coming out as you both entered the Great Hall.

Lights were just being hung up as everyone walked into the Great Hall. Professors flicked their wands and spun the strings together to turn the admittedly boring beige walls into a disco-like party of reds and greens.

The tables, which had normally been decorated quite plainly, were now filled with anything and everything Christmas-like. Small trees sat at the head of each table and at the front table where the teachers sat. The goblets shined with a dark red glow, and the cloths protecting the wood from careless students were dyed a light green and shined with sparkles of glitter. Every year they seemed to do something different, whether it be the color of lights on the tree, the decorations around the house banners hung on the walls or the jeweled arrangement on the cups.

You made your way to the Ravenclaw table quietly, smiling at your other friend Luna as you sat down next to her. Before you could say anything, everyone cheered at the sight of the food being served. To be fair, you were very hungry, and you almost joined in on the loud hollers and claps, mostly coming from the Gryffindor table.

As plates of food floated down the long tables you listened to everyone talking. At the table next yours the Hufflepuffs quietly munched on their food, no words being exchanged except for the occasional student squealing and cursing from another playing a trick on them. From that table you made eye contact with your friend Seungmin, raising your eyebrows and laughing when he held up a Potions book and mouthed “kill me” to you. 

Behind you the Slytherins sat quietly, some of them laughing at one of the other houses while others had their heads in their books. You never fully understood the motivations of Slytherins. They loved to be top of the class yet they always felt as if there was something else higher to achieve. Though you couldn’t find them too weird, you were the top of the class and you still wanted to go higher, still wanted to prove yourself. 

You always wondered if you should have been placed in Slytherin, but no one ever dared question the Sorting Hat. That, and you heard a rumor that the Hat took your own feelings into account, and you knew you were always more drawn to Ravenclaw.

On the opposite wall there was a loud murmuring, the Gryffindor’s heads clacking together and you could only assume they were talking about something interesting with your they all seemed to push together into the middle of the long table. How they could relay a message down the whole table made no sense to you, it all sounded like an impossible game of ‘Telephone’, yet with the nodding of heads it looked as if they got their message across.

“Think they’re having another dick measuring contest?” Jisung whispered in your ear as you both began filling up your plates. Of course he had to overload his, but you knew he would end up eating it all.

“I think they wait to go back to the Common Room to do that.” You stated simply, shoveling as much turkey as you thought you could eat onto your large plate. It always turned out that your eyes were bigger than your stomach, but much like Jisung, you were determined to finish.

To your other side Luna leaned towards you, one hand on a fork and the other holding a book open. “Have you guys finished the Herbology study book yet?” Her voice was soft and barely above a whisper.

OWLs started two weeks after Christmas break and to say you were completely not ready was an understatement. You had studied day and night since the beginning of the year, getting as many books from the library that you could. Learning was fun and while you were quite good at it, the thought of failing was always a fear of yours. With the deadline rapidly approaching, so was your heart rate. 

“I skimmed through it but I feel like it would be better to have more hands-on experience.” Jisung shrugged, stuffing his cheeks with turkey and vegetables from the floating plates passing by even though he had a near full plate sitting in front of him.

“Smarty pants.” You looked at Jisung, sticking your tongue out at him. “I’ve been really busy with Potions so I haven’t started yet. How about you?” 

“I haven’t even started either. I’ve been trying to memorize these spells for Charms but I can never find the time to practice them.” Luna launched forward, nose fitting perfectly in the middle of the textbook, a loud sigh escaping her.

“Well, we can study together more often if you want?” You offered, watching Luna lift her head up quickly. You feared for her neck when she did that. 

The three of you would study together in a small group, sometimes recruiting other people and friends from other houses, but with the ‘big tests’ coming up, maybe studying together more often could help more than hurt. Although you did like studying alone more, it was definitely more beneficial to study in a group. It also offered as an occasional distraction when the stress got to be too high.

“Oh my god really? That sounds awesome. You’re the best.” She took a deep breath, closing her eyes while her hands rested in her lap. Through the years of knowing her and being her roommate for one of them, you knew Luna would occasionally meditate to ground herself. She was quite the quirky person, as most Ravenclaws were, but Luna took it to the next level. It wasn’t a bad thing, in fact it made her infinitely more interesting to talk to. 

Her hair was what first drew you to her, it was a coral blue, but when she turned around for the first time you saw glimpses of reds and purples. When you asked her, she said it was an invention her father came up with, color changing hair dye. At that point you knew you had to be her friend.

A comfortable silence fell over the three of you as you continued to eat. Luckily you had friends that felt like silence was as good of communication as talking was. Well, Jisung was quite the jabberjaw, but he always knew when to stop and when to let the room descend into quiet.

If only the rest of the room could have stayed quiet.

Two tables down a loud crash caught everyone's attention. The silence you had wished for just a second ago granted to you. Your eyes fell on a wide eyed boy, his pink hair weighed down from liquid that had been poured on him. By whom? Like everyone else you looked next to him to see another wide eyed boy, this one with dark hair and seemingly older yet you weren’t quite sure.

“Oh shit.” The black haired one said, his wand quickly being tucked back into his red and black robe but it was definitely too late for trying to conceal anything with hundreds of eyes locked onto them. 

Behind the boys came Professor McGonagall, the Head of the Gryffindors, although it was less of a walking over and more of an appearance from thin air. Her glasses rested on the tip of her nose as she looked down at the two cowering boys in front of her.

“Mr. Bang, what is it do you think you’re doing?” Neither of the two turned around, their eyes closed and noses scrunched. Eventually the older looking one turned around, his hands lightly trembling. If Gryffindors had anything to be afraid of, it was Potions class and McGonagall.

“I’m so sorry Professor. I was just practicing my Wingardium Leviosa spell for OWLs.” He reached next to him and patted the pink boy’s head, shooting him an apologetic look when the younger scowled at him. “I tried to levitate my goblet but I must have gotten distracted and it fell.”

You felt Jisung lean towards you, “I call bullshit, the water would have flown everywhere, why just on that poor boy’s head?” Of course Jisung would be the one to use the logical part of his brain to call someone out. 

“You’re definitely a Ravenclaw, aren't you?” You chuckled, nodding at his statement. “As much as I hate to say it, you're right. It was obviously a prank or something.”

“And Mr. Yang,” McGonagall directed her attention to the pink haired boy. One of her hands rested on her hip, “you’re obviously not studying for OWLs, how did you get into this predicament?”

The two boys looked between each other then back at McGonagall. The older one, Mr. Bang, nudged the other with his elbow. At this point they both looked around and noticed the silence in the room, only causing their already pink faces to go full on cherry red.

“Uhh.” The younger one hesitated with his answer. Small droplets of water dripped from the tips of his pink hair. It wasn’t a bright pink, more of a faded bubblegum pink. Whether it was the aftermath of a spell or he chose to do that you weren’t sure but he looked cute. “I was just sitting next to Chan while he was practicing. I’m sorry.”

She nodded before pulling out her wand. With a flick of her wrist and an inaudible mumble of what could only be assumed as a spell, his pink hair flew up, strands flying everywhere before eventually settling back down. Everyone in the Great Hall gasped as they saw his hair was completely dry now. Even the recipient of the spell was surprised, his eyes crossed as he tried to take a look at the hair covering his forehead, mouth gaping open.

“Woah.” The other one, Chan, you could assume, inhaled and lifted his hand up to touch the other’s hair. “How did you do that?” He looked towards McGonagall, all fear and embarrassment gone in favor of wanting to know the spell.

“Maybe I’ll let you know when you pass your OWLs. For now, minus 20 points to Gryffindor.” Her voice conveyed disappointment as she turned around and seemed to glide back up to the big table at the front of the room. 

Once she finished talking a murmur fell among the students. Each table went back to their own devices, studying, eating and gossiping as usual. You continued to eat, your plate slowly dissipating into empty as you listened to the noise around you. Although you couldn’t hear any specific conversation you were content in the atmosphere around you. Noise wasn't always the worst, but more often than not it felt like a million bee buzzing in your head so you tended to lean towards the silent route.

“Oh my god.” As if snapping you out of your thoughts, Jisung nudged you accidentally, pushing his plate away and patting his stomach through his robe. “That was so good I can feel my brain waves flowing.”

“You know sometimes I just have no idea what the fuck you’re saying.” You eyed him, pushing your plate away as well and shaking your head. If you were given a dollar for every time Jisung said something weird you would have been a billionaire in first-year. 

“You don't know how many people have said that to me.” Jisung laughed, the same loud laugh that he always does. A lot of people would make fun of him for having such an animated laugh, yet you never found it annoying. It was like sneezing, when Jisung would laugh you would start to laugh as well. Once he finished laughing, he leaned his head on one of his hands, “anyways, do you have any plans for break?”

“I think I’m gonna stay here, I already told my parents I wanted to study for OWLs and not be distracted.” You paused when you saw students start to get up, signaling it was time for class. “Besides, our family wasn’t one for holidays so I would rather stay here and do something productive instead of just lay around for three weeks.”

Both of you stood up, following the students as they started meandering and finding their way towards their classes. Luckily you shared the first class with Jisung so you just followed him through the crowd, hand clutching a bundle of his robe so you didn't lose him.

The walk to class wasn’t long, and as you two sat down you both took out your books and quills, getting ready for another grueling day of mixing and hoping you don't blow that part of the castle off. Class hadn’t started yet but Jisung looked around at the other students, checking to make sure no one was listening in before leaning closer to you.

“I heard another student is also staying for break, some Hufflepuff.” Jisung said quietly, messing with the vials of liquids out in front of him.

“First of all,” You smacked his hand away from the ingredients for the day’s potion, “don’t fuck with the ingredients, you don't want to end up like that first-year.” Jisung pouted but let you continue, his hands now resting on his book. “Second of all, I’m focusing on my studying, hopefully they stay away and in their own space.”

You knew you sounded harsh, but you also knew that OWLs were the most important exams and you needed to pass them, though preferably not just pass but get high marks. Obviously if you ran into this Hufflepuff you would be polite, but ultimately that was your time to study. Besides, you didn't even know who this other person was. Maybe they were an asshole, then it would be infinitely easier to ignore them.

“I heard he was also a fifth-year. He.” Jisung emphasized it again, elbowing you into the side. “You guys could study together.” When he raised his eyebrows and wiggled in his seat you resorted to pushing Jisung over, laughing but also shooting him an evil eye. “You know when you do that look you just look like a puppy. Totally not intimidated at all.”

“I could push you over again.” You threatened, watching as more people started to file in before class started. “And I definitely do not want you to be my wingman again, I still have nightmares of last time.” Shuddering, you pushed the memory of the Yule Ball to the back of your head.

Jisung looked like he was going to combat your blow to his ability to wingman but before he could, Professor Slughorn strode through the door. All the students fell silent at his entrance, hands folded in front of their books, eyes scanning the liquids and cauldron in front of them.

As you listened to Slughorn drone on, picking up vials and mixing them into the cauldron, you felt a finger poke your elbow. Looking down you saw a piece of paper sitting between you and Jisung. When you looked up at him he was focusing on the front of the room but his mouth was quirked into a smirk that you knew meant that was a note from him. You grabbed it, opening it quickly and trying to read the messy scribbles from Jisung’s quill. When you finally did read it you shook your head, elbowing your best friend, crumbling the paper and putting it in your robe pocket.

“You never know what might happen ;)” - Your favorite wingman.

ii.

“I can’t believe we leave tomorrow.” Jisung’s cheek was pressed against the Herbology book, the page sticking to his skin. The steam from his hot chocolate floated into the air of the library. The pages beneath his face had some important text on whatever plant you were just learning about (if you're honest, you barely remember the name of the damn flower).

“You’ll be okay, Sung.” You reached across the table and patted his head. His hair was soft as always. When you first met him you were sure he used some sort of magic shampoo and conditioner or found a spell to make his hair that smooth but after being friends for 5 years you learned it was just ‘great genes’ as he had put it.

“It’s only for three weeks. Besides we can send each other letters.” Luna rested her hand over yours.

The three of you had been studying for nearly four hours. Having the day off was both a blessing and a curse, no classes but more time to cram studying in. The library was packed with students, all of the seats and window sills filled with bodies and books. Despite having so many students in one space it was quiet, no one wanting to upset the librarian fairies that flew through the bookcases and sought out anyone not following the rules.

“But it’s not the same.” Jisung drew out the last syllable. “I want to annoy you guys in real life not just letters.”

“Trust me you’ll find a way.” A chuckle escaped you when Jisung rolled his eyes, lifting his head and a pout prominent on his face. 

“I guess it’ll be okay.” He looked down at the textbook, fingers quickly skimming over the page before he looked up, an alarming smile on his face. “Oh! Speaking of break,” He leaned closer to you. “I know who is staying here with you.” Jisung winked at you and if you didn’t know that the fairies would kick you out of the library you would have reached around and smacked him in the back of the head.

There was a moment of silence as Jisung waited for you to ask him who it was, and you desperately tried to hold back. You set your mouth in a thin line and shook your head. Yet, your curiosity dug through your brain and got caught in your throat. You knew if you opened your mouth those words would slip through. 

So you did.

“Who is it?” You sighed, waiting for the answer. Truthfully, there wasn't anyone that you didn't want it to be but the answer still shocked you.

“Seo Changbin! The Herbology nerd.” Jisung nearly shouted, and it took you and Luna to tell him to quiet down.

You had known about Seo Changbin, seen him around the castle and in the library and although you didn’t know anything about him besides the fact that he was a Hufflepuff and really good with plants, you did know that he was damn cute.

“Ooh! He’s cute!” Luna squealed, mirroring your thoughts. She bounced in her seat and patted you on the arm. “You guys should study together!”

As much as you would like to entertain that idea, you knew you would have to focus on studying alone. Sure, you could study with Luna and Jisung but that was different, they knew what methods worked and what didn’t. Their humor fit yours and having someone else come in, someone incredibly attractive and cute, would be infinitely more distracting than Jisung’s dick jokes and Luna’s tangents.

“I would rather stay in the solitude of our Common Room.” You noticed the frowns on their faces, so you decided to entertain them and hopefully get them off your back. “But, you never know what could happen, maybe he could help me with my Herbology troubles.”

“You can’t study Herbology without us!” Jisung pouted again, looking down at the book and looking back up at you. You found his pouting funny so you nodded, chuckling when he firmly nodded his head back. “Good. Now let’s please get at least this chapter done before my brain melts.”

iii.

It wasn’t long until you were sitting with Jisung and Luna for the last breakfast before everyone left for break. It was eerily quiet in the whole room, but you didn’t mind it, instead you just ate in silence, enjoying the presence of your friends around you before you couldn’t see them for three weeks.

You smiled when students from other houses were allowed to sit together and you found Seungmin walking over from the Hufflepuff table. He took the empty seat next to Luna, but not before nearly tripping and spilling all his food over the dark blue tablecloths that represented your house.

“Careful dude, I am not sitting next to you if you reek like eggs.” Jisung said with a full mouth, a laugh nearly sending his breakfast flying.

“You’re telling me to be careful yet you're the one talking with a mouth full of food.” Seungmin’s eyebrows raised. Jisung looked like he was going to argue back but decided against it. As soft as Seungmin looked, he was not afraid to stand up for himself (or anyone else, for that matter.) 

“Both of you should be careful. If one of you spills on me and I have to take another shower I’m sending you a howler for Christmas.” You threatened, looking up at them through your lashes as you ate all you could.

Jisung stood up, arms raised in surrender and it took you yanking on his robe sleeve for him to sit down. “Okay,” He said a little too loudly, causing a few Slytherins to shoot you looks. “I surrender to you, your majesty.” You smacked his arm but laughed along with everyone else.

You stopped laughing before the rest of your friends did so you looked around at them, letting out a breath you didn’t know you had held onto. It was nice to laugh as loud as you wanted to and feel just that little bit of relief from stress before you were left alone to study until your brain turned to mush. 

For the past few weeks you had convinced yourself you would be okay alone and that was definitely true to some extent, you loved to be alone and be left to study or read or learn new spells that might come in handy. You had even taken to learning the hair drying spell McGonagall used and that cut getting ready in half. As much as you loved to be alone you knew that you would have to distract yourself somewhat to not think about your friends and how much you would be missing them.

If anything, you knew you could sneak into Hogsmeade or take a stroll up to the Astronomy Tower or the Owlery and send a letter to your friends but you knew that a part of you would still miss them.

Your thoughts were cut off by Jisung tapping you on the head, his face coming into view as you spaced out looking at one of the illuminated lanterns on the wall above the Gryffindor table.

“Hello? Earth to Y/N? Anyone in there?” When you looked down you realized your friends were all staring at you. Jisung’s finger was still tapping on your head and you shook him off.

“Of course I’m here, just thinking about my schedule of studying.” It wasn’t a lie, you had made a calendar of subjects you would study every day with breaks to spend in the Astronomy Tower to calm you down.

“You’re gonna miss us aren’t you?” Luna asked, chewing on the rest of her food before snapping and watching as it disappeared to the dishwasher. She was always the straightforward one of the group, and that was saying something because mister honesty sat directly next to you.

“I’m definitely going to miss you Luna.” You nodded then gestured towards Seungmin and Jisung. “These two, though, I’m glad I’m gonna get some peace and quiet.”

“Hey!” They both said simultaneously.

“You know I’m kidding. Of course I'll miss you all like fucking crazy but like you said, we can send letters and I am happy I get extra time to study for OWLs.” You knew it was stupid to lie to them so you told the truth.

Everyone nodded before they went back to eating. It didn’t take long before everyone was finished, your plates gone and bellies full. After a long speech by the Headmaster students started getting up, some saying bye to friends and leaving and others just sitting and waiting for their ride to arrive.

“So,” Seungmin leaned forward on his elbows. “I heard that Changbin was also staying behind. He’s a sweet guy, always studying as well. He’s a few doors down from mine in the dorm and I hear him singing all the time. He’s damn good.” Jisung and Luna chuckled, wiggling their eyebrows at you.

“He sounds like a cool dude, maybe we could be friends after OWLs.” You held up your book. There was a moment of silence and you spoke up again. Before you could stop yourself your curiosity got the better of you. “Do you know why he’s staying back?” 

“No idea, sorry.” Seungmin said. He looked up front before jumping up and grabbing his suitcase in a haste. “Oh shit my ride is here, I gotta go. Bye guys, have fun!”

You three said your goodbyes to the back of Seungmin’s head, watching his yellow scarf fly in the wind as he squeezed past everyone, muttering “excuse me”s and “sorry”s to anyone he bumped into. As soon as he was gone you turned back to Luna and Jisung, eyeing them as they skimmed through their books. Everyone was cramming before leaving for home, having three weeks at home without the pressure of studying was a godsend to most but some preferred taking their books with them to study while at home.

Although they were Ravenclaws, Jisung and Luna definitely did not share that sentiment. They much preferred to abandon all notion of studying in favor of taking a break. “Studying is important but there was only so much you can do before your brain explodes.” Professor Flitwick had said one day when he met with all of your house.

“So,” Jisung started and you held your breath, knowing something was coming. “Just friends?” He smirked and before you could shoot him down he continued. “All I’m saying is learning and studying is important, I wouldn’t be a Ravenclaw if I didn’t think so, but it’s also important to have a little fun here and there. You’ll have a lot of time and I know you’re not just going to spend it studying or in the Astronomy Tower.”

Shooting him a look you shrugged, he was right and you knew it but you would be dipped in Hell before admitting it to the boy in front of you. There would definitely be a lot of down time considering it was just you in the whole castle (and Changbin but you chose to ignore that thought). 

“Chill out horndog.” Jisung chuckled at your attempt at an insult, patting you on the head. “If I did hang out with Changbin it definitely would be as just friends, no matter how cute he is.”

Jisung’s face moved and his mouth twisted, him mouthing a ‘I can't hear you’ which you knew wasn't true, Jisung acted like he wasn’t listening but his ears were as good as an owl’s. He heard anything and everything in a mile radius and could repeat it back to anyone in a heartbeat. So you were sure he heard you.

“Oh look!” Jisung jumped up, picking up his suitcase and cage with his owl Albert before looking back. “My ride’s here, hope you have fun with Mr. Dreamy Puff, you better spill all the juice when I get back.” 

“There will be no juice to spill but sure, whatever helps you sleep at night. Have fun!” You yelled after Jisung. He waved behind him, body weaving through everyone and you swore you saw him almost take out a group of first-years on his way to the front of the castle.

“He’s gonna bowl someone over one day.” Luna shook her head, looking back to you. There was a quick silence before she spoke again “I’m not gonna pester you about Changbin, just remember to have fun as well as study. You have the castle pretty much all to yourself, enjoy it.” 

You nodded, thankful you had Luna to not drive you completely insane like the two boys. After her statement you two sat in silence, occasionally chatting about Herbology or the latest Potions mishap. Around you students hurried to the front, the occasional pile up happening when a student tripped or knocked someone over.

Eventually you looked up from your book, foregoing studying for the moment and instead enjoying the noise and presence of everyone in the room. As time went on students filed out, the big suitcases and cages full of animals that lined the walls slowly dissipating until only a handful were left.

“My ride is here.” Luna quickly packed her book in her suitcase, zipping everything up and standing.

You pulled her into a hug, smelling the peppermint shampoo that changed scents based on the season (it was her favorite buy from Hogsmeade). The smell was pungent, like drinking butterbeer after chewing gum, but it was a smell that you knew you would miss. 

“Relax a little, okay? Don’t stress about OWLs until after you get back.” You joked with her, knowing she would have fun with her unconventional family.

“I could say the same for you.” Luna tightened her scarf around her neck, the tip of her nose already red from the cold air bellowing in from the doors. “I’ll send letters, Scarlett has no problem flying to the castle.” Her owl stirred in its cage, the white feathers standing out against the bronze bars.

“Of course, I’ll send letters too, though it’ll probably just be me ranting about how many potions we have to memorize and me worrying I'll burn my eyebrows off doing it wrong.” You both laughed. “Now go! I don’t want you to miss the ride to the train.”

“Okay, okay. I’m going!” Luna darted away, screaming a final, “goodbye!” before disappearing into the white snow.

“Bye!” You shouted even though you knew she couldn’t hear you.

There were only three other students in the Great Hall waiting for the last train home. The high windows cast a shadow on your side of the room, the sun going down and the light bending. You weren’t sure if Changbin was there, there were two boys sitting at the Hufflepuff table yet having not seen the Changbin’s face, you had no indication that he was anywhere to be seen.

It wasn’t like you were looking for him or anything.

After looking up and down the table you noticed you were the only Ravenclaw left, even the seventh-year prefect Woojin was gone, having been one of the last ones to leave and help the first-years to the train. It all looked so empty sitting there, so you decided to call it a night and start the three week break in the morning.

You didn’t bother looking at anyone as you walked past, fingers playing with the pages in your Charms book as you made your way to the Ravenclaw Common Room. 

Once you were inside, having solved the riddle lock many times before and answering immediately, you looked around and sighed. You decided not to think about how empty it was, instead focusing on walking up the stairs to your room. Although your bed was soft, you looked over and saw Luna’s empty one, a small pang echoing in your chest.

“I just need some sleep.” You muttered to no one but yourself. “I’ll feel better in the morning.” Turning over, you faced the window. The snow cascaded down so hard it almost looked like rain. It was calming, along with the mix of cold and warm from the fireplace in the Common Room.

You knew the first night alone would be hard but the particular lack of a human presence anywhere near you was the most difficult thing. At night if you couldn't sleep you would find yourself talking out loud and eventually Luna would respond to you. That time, however, she wasn’t there to respond.

The first night is the worst, you thought to yourself, twisting under the comforter and trying to find a comfortable position. Just get through the first night and you’ll be okay.

Taking a deep breath you closed your eyes, reviewing different charms and spells that you had learned through the week. It was a nice distraction, and you felt yourself drift off with the sound of the wind in the background.

iv.

The start of the third day you woke up with a massive headache.

The previous two days had been spent in the Common Room, a big blue and bronze quilt draped over your figure as you stayed curled up on one of the large couches. The fireplace remained warm and inviting and you found yourself content in reading about Transfiguration and the history of magic for the first two days.

Starting the third day with a pain almost as bad as hearing the screaming of a Mandrake was definitely not how you wanted it to start, but there you were.

“Oh, fuck.” Your hand stayed on your head as you sat up, temples thumping with a rush of blood. The light from your lamp burned as you opened your eyes, forcing you to squint. 

It’s not like you hadn’t gotten enough sleep, in fact, one could argue you got too much. There were often times you sat in the large chair, book in your lap, that you found yourself dozing off, time disappearing into dust in an hourglass. You were only focused on the words in front of you and the sense of dusk outside that forced you to trudge up the stairs and finally sleep in your bed.

The rumbling of your stomach made you stand up, slipping into your robe and fixing your bed head. The time on the clock indicating it was breakfast time so you slowly trudged down towards the Great Hall, the paintings whispering as you walked by. 

As soon as you walked through the large open doors you stopped in your tracks. The Great Hall had transformed. In the middle of the room was the giant Christmas tree, lights twinkling like stars and bulbs filled with full snow scenes glittering across the branches. At the very top stood a fairy, twirling on her toe like a ballerina.

On the edge of the room right next to the fireplaces were small tables, sets of chairs set up for anyone to rest in. All of the chairs were empty except one.

Seo Changbin. 

His back was to the door, not noticing you walked in. Wanting to stay out of his eyesight, you quickly shuffled to a table as far away as possible, wincing when you pulled the chair out and a loud noise echoed through the large room. When Changbin didn’t look back you let out a breath of relief.

Your plate appeared in front of you, with all the food the castle had to offer for breakfast. Again your stomach reminded you of exactly what you came there for. You ate in silence, the past two days of living on a small dinner you would sneak down to the Great Hall to get and the few snacks you hadn’t eaten from your last outing at Hogsmeade.

As you ate your eyes wandered, settling on the only other person in the room, and you were surprised to find his eyes staring back at you. Immediately you lowered your head, playing with the egg on your plate. All the food was nearly gone and after not eating much you found your stomach was definitely full.

You were about to wave your wand to send your plate to the dishwashers when the feeling you were being watched washed over you. Pausing, you assessed your options. You took the easy way out, looking up and coming face to face with none other than Seo Changbin.

You never had enough time to actually look at him, only recognizing his name from first-year when you were sorted into your houses and being called in some classes. Now that he was standing in front of you, you noticed how handsome he was.

He had two yellow and black scarves wrapped tightly around his neck, his robe held close to his body. His cheeks and nose were a soft rosy color, as if he had fallen asleep face first on a pillow. Dark hair framed his face, red highlights reflecting in the light of the candles. His eyes were bright despite their dark color, lips curled into a slight smile and you felt a warmth different from the warmth of the candles in the room.

“Hi.” His voice was light, barely leaving his lips in a wisp of condensation from his hot breath.

“Hi.” You responded, a smile making its way onto your face.

There was a moment of silence and you realized that Changbin’s hands were resting on the back of the chair in front of you, the sound of his nails tapping onto the wood the only noise. It echoed through the room loudly. Or you just thought it was loud, the silence heightening everything around you.

“Can I sit here?” Changbin asked, pointing to the chair across from you. When you nodded Changbin smiled wider, slowly pulling out his chair and sitting down. As opposed to almost all other Hufflepuffs you’ve known, he stayed silent upon looking back up at you. Normally you would feel uncomfortable under someone’s stare, but you found yourself entranced with the way his eyes shone in the candlelight.

“So,” you broke the silence, “I see you’re also staying here for break.” Great, just the state the obvious. You thought to yourself. Looking down you noticed your plate still there, quickly taking out your wand from your robe and mumbling the spell, watching as it disappeared from in front of you.

“Yea, yea I am.” Changbin paused for a moment, softly hitting his temple with his fist. “Oh shit, I forgot to introduce myself, you probably think I’m weird. My name’s Seo Changbin, Hufflepuff, fifth-year.” He stuck out his hand and you chuckled at his adorable expression, like he was mentally hitting himself.

“I’m Y/N, Ravenclaw, fifth-year as well.” You reached out, his hand was warm and fit well in your own. The handshake was done way too fast, you noticed, trying not to let a pout show itself. 

It was then that you realize you had quite literally rolled out of bed earlier, rubbing a hand over your face and smoothing down your hair with your other. “I just woke up, I probably look so bad right now.” You laughed.

“I think you look cute.” Changbin mumbled, shrugging his head and looking down at his hands. Before you could reply - quite possibly with a you too - he looked back up at you. “I just woke up as well, I was up all last night studying for OWLs and I was so hungry I figured I should probably have breakfast.” 

“Are you nervous for the exams?” You were intrigued about whether or not everyone else was as scared about OWLs as you and your friends were. Just from the tidbits Jisung heard around the castle, Gryffindors were leisurely studying, Slytherins were nowhere to be seen in the library, probably studying in their Common Room, and most Hufflepuffs were in their own little study groups, determined on studying almost as much as Ravenclaws were.

“I definitely am. I think most of us are, we all have one or two subjects we are the most scared for.” You nodded along to his words, watching the way his fingers tapped on the table. 

“What subjects are the hardest for you?” You asked.

“Charms for sure. This dumb thing,” he pulled out his wand from his robe, “refuses to listen to me sometimes.”

His wand was very pretty, you noted. Dark wood with specs of gold glittered throughout it. A lighter brown wood flashed from beneath his fingers and you saw a soft glow from the tip as he waved it around. When he put it back in his robe you trailed your eyes back up to his face, a lopsided grin stuck on it.

“How about you? Surely you don’t have anything you’re too worried about, you’re top of our class.” Changbin leaned forward, shoulders no longer slouched in an uncomfortable position. It surprised you that he knew who you were, yet a smile involuntary made its way onto your face. 

You shrugged, not wanting to admit that your worst subject was one that his house should be the best at. “I’m not top of the class.” When Changbin raised his eyebrows you chuckled. “Okay, okay, top five, but I’m not first!”  He raised his hands up in defeat, a louder laugh echoing from the both of you. From the top of the Christmas tree the fairy chuckled as well.

“You’re avoiding my question.” Changbin smirked, crossing his arms in a playful manner.

“You’re really observant.” At this point you weren’t avoiding his question because of embarrassment, it was actually quite fun to mess around with someone other than Jisung. 

“You do know I’m a Hufflepuff? There’s no way in hell I’m going to let you off the hook.” 

You sighed dramatically, throwing yourself onto the table and smiling at the table upon hearing Changbin’s laugh. Actually, it was more of a giggle than a laugh. But either way it was really cute and you were sure you wanted to hear it more often.

“Herbology.” You mumbled into the table. When a sound of confusion came from the boy across from you, you spoke up. “Herbology!”

There was silence, and when you looked up you almost had the wind knocked out of you. Changbin was smiling, an extremely big smile that made his eyes disappear and his nose scrunch up. You’re friends had told you he was cute but he blew past that statement. He was more than just cute, he was like ultra cute with a big side of extremely handsome.

You were too busy admiring Changbin that you missed what he said, your face heating up when you had to ask. “What?”

“I said,” He chuckled again, arms unfolding and resting back onto the table. “I’m quite good at Herbology, one of the top in the class, in fact.” Although he said that, it wasn’t in a bragging tone, more of a proud hint to his voice. “I can help you if you want?”

The reminder of the loneliness you would be going back to if you said no creeped into your mind. Paired with a small warmth that spread through you when Changbin smiled prompted you to nod. 

“Sure. I definitely need it.” You chuckled, completely forgetting about the deal you made with Jisung. 

Above you the fairy on the Christmas tree squealed. “Ah, young love!” She screamed, her shrill voice echoing through the large room and piercing your ears. As she said that you're whole body felt warm, but not the warmth that previously came and went. Looking at Changbin you found his face turned towards the floor, his cheeks dusted once again with pink and the corners of his lips pulled into a small smile.

“So what were you planning on doing today?” Changbin asked, the tint in his cheeks slowly fading. Perhaps you were letting your loneliness guide you, but you found yourself drawn into Changbin and his soft smile and pretty laugh. That or you had been slipped a love potion in your breakfast. Or Changbin was just that alluring. 

It was probably the last one.

“Just studying.” You shrugged, not having anything special except digging your face in a book. “That’s why I stayed here for break. That and the fact that all my relatives in one house together isn’t the best thing to go home to.” 

“I get it, family is complicated.” Changbin nodded. “Do you wanna maybe study together? You know that saying, two heads are better than one.”

“Yea, I think that would be leagues better than staying cooped up in my Common Room. I can only take so many taunts from the paintings outside for not coming out all day.” You rolled your eyes, reminded of the annoying voices that were seemingly like a loudspeaker in the Common Room. How their voices carried through the walls like that, you had no clue, but you wished that they had built the castle more soundproof.

“Oh don’t remind me.” Changbin groaned. “I get a lot of shit from our paintings as well. So annoying.”

“So do you want to go to the library?” You asked, getting up from your spot at the table. “Oh wait, I need to stop by my Common Room to get my scarf, it’s only going to get colder as the day goes on.” There were plenty of books in the library to study from, not needing your assigned textbooks just yet. You definitely didn’t, however, want to die from hypothermia. 

Changbin stood up as well, hand tousling the messy hair at the back of his head. “Do you wanna use my extra scarf?” His other hand played with the edges of the extra fabric around his neck. “I mean, as long as you don’t mind wearing another house’s colors.”

“Oh,” You said, surprised. “I don’t mind, but won’t you be cold?”

“I’ll be fine, it’s actually kinda hot in here so I was going to take it off anyways.” Changbin’s face was flushed, teeth pulling at his bottom lip. 

“Okay then, thank you.” You smiled, watching him quickly unravel the yellow fabric and hold it out for you. When you grabbed it you noticed how warm it was, like it had been sitting in front of a heater for an hour. You didn’t mind though, wrapping it around your neck and nearly nuzzling into it. There was a delicate smell to it, like laundry soap that had just started to fade and you wondered if this is how Changbin smelled in general.

Stop it, you thought to yourself, just friends. Focus on OWLs. Your fingers played with the edge of the scarf. It was then that you noticed Changbin staring at you, waiting for you to do something, and you realized you had just been standing there playing with the loose strings of the accessory. 

“So,” You flipped the scarf over your shoulder, striking an overdramatic pose. “How do I look?” The warmth came back when Changbin laughed, and you fought to smother it into ashes.

“Hm, I think you look fabulous, a natural Hufflepuff.” You smacked his shoulder. “Hey! That was the highest compliment I could have given you.” Loud laughter echoed through the Great Hall again, and you were sure the unicorns and other animals in the Forbidden Forest could have heard it from over there.

“Okay let’s go before you think up any other ‘compliments’ for me.” You gestured towards the library. It was only two floors up so luckily it wasn’t that far of a walk, but you still wanted to get it over with so you could relax in the soft chairs up above.

“You say that like I don’t already have a whole catalogue loaded into my brain.” Changbin turned towards the big doors, looking up in the general direction of the library. “I’ll race you?”

Upon hearing that you got into what you could only assume was a good enough stance for getting ready to run. “Okay.” You said, crouching down even more and looking towards your right at Changbin. “1, 2, 3, go!”

With that, you took off, laughing at the faded yelling of Changbin following behind you. Everything turned into a blur, yellow streaks from your (Changbin’s) scarf and the words being screamed at you from the paintings quickly passing by faded until you didn’t care about anything. It was freeing, being able to run through the halls and not worry about losing points (though you did think about the paintings ratting you out to the professors when they came back).

As soon as you had passed through the door to the library you stopped in your tracks, hands resting on your knees and breath coming out in small gasps. It wasn’t everyday you ran as fast as you did, in fact, the last time you did run that fast you were being chased by a small troll through the Forbidden Forest.

You took your time walking to one of the plush chairs surrounding a huge table, plopping down on it unceremoniously. Yeah, you had won the race, but had you really won the race? 

Within a few seconds of sitting down Changbin came bounding through the door frame, chest pumping with every labored breath he took. He followed the same path as you, starting with his hands on his knees and then slowly shuffling towards a chair. Unlike you, he nearly collapsed before reaching the chair, fortunately he barely made it, a loud thud echoing through the library when he fell into it.

“Holy,” He took a breath and let it out, “shit.” Changbin laid back in the chair, hands clasped in front of his stomach. “You’re so,” Another breath, “fucking fast.”

“I knew a shortcut.” You tried to laugh but all that came out was a puff of air, lungs still working overtime to provide you oxygen.

“Damn Ravenclaws.” Changbin mumbled, his breath still escaping in short puffs.

You both took a few minutes to calm down, your backs resting comfortably on the plush cushions. You felt your breath even out, a small bead of sweat falling from your hairline. The smell of old books filled your nostrils, small fibers from the scarf coming up to tickle your nose. Although you had just run until you felt like your lungs would pop, you felt relaxed.

Snow fell softly outside, cascading past the windows of the library and making everything feel like a winter wonderland even from the comfort of the heat filled castle. There was a sense of urgency to study, what with so little time until OWLs, yet as you sat there, you also felt comfort wash over you. You still had a month and a half, there was time.

“We should start studying now.” Changbin said, his voice still holding an airiness to it. Despite him saying that, neither of you moved, feet staying planted on the plush carpet. Neither of you bothered to even sit up, backs being scrunched up slightly from slouching.

A few more minutes passed by, your fingers stroking the soft chair and head turned to watch the snow falling outside. You desperately wanted to grab a thick coat and just lie in the snow for a few hours. Or a few days. Or a few weeks. However long it took for your mind to stop worrying about OWLs.

“Penny for your thoughts?” His soft voice pierced the silence, and you tore your eyes away from the winter wonderland outside to look at Changbin. His hair was cut perfectly, some strands wavy and messy while others completely straight. His eyes were completely calm, just observing you and you felt more exposed than if you were just given a truth serum.

“Just thinking about the snow and OWLs.” You rested your cheek on your shoulder (well, the thick yellow scarf covering your shoulder) eyes closing for a moment of peace before opening them to Changbin’s gaze again. “You know, stressing about exams is my secret talent.” You continued, a near silent chuckle escaping you.

“You don’t have anything to worry about, you’re one of the smartest people in the castle, but a little extra studying won’t hurt.” Changbin sat up, a loud huff accompanied by a puff of air following his statement.

“Fine, fine.” You sat up as well, tightening Changbin’s scarf around your neck. There was a slight scent of pine needles and cinnamon, an unlikely combination but it made you immediately relax. “But don’t blame me if I start dozing off, your scarf is way more comfortable than any of mine.”

“If you want, you can keep it, I have Hufflepuff friends that took up knitting and can make me however many I want.” Changbin smiled and you declined to retort with, well they won’t smell like you. 

“I’ll think about it.” You looked around at the rows of books, debating silently what subject to start first. Of course, the logical thing would be to start on what you were the worst at, but sometimes you decided to ignore those thoughts in favor of working up to the worst. “So where should we start? History of magic?”

With Changbin’s nod you both set out a plan of gathering books, spreading them on the table and skimming through each one. Occasionally you would quiz one another, loud laughter erupting in the normally quiet space when one of you would mumble a funny answer to one of the questions. 

That continued until the sky started turning orange outside the windows, a deeper sense of fatigue settling over the both of you and reminding you both that sleep was an important part of studying. It was then that you both rose from your seats, uttering a soft goodbye with a warm handshake as you both went your separate ways to your Common Rooms.

It was also that night that you realized you hadn’t taken his scarf off.

v.

This pattern of eating breakfast in peace at the same table and racing to the library to study all day went on for a few more days until one morning you approached your normal table, plates of food already laid out. Changbin was already sat down, stuffing his cheeks with everything he could fit in there. 

“Are you okay?” You asked, sitting down in front of him and starting to eat. You noticed it was everything you always put on your plate, and your face heated up at the thought of Changbin paying that close of attention on you. Luckily you could hide any hint of the heat rising with the scarf - Changbin’s scarf - wrapped around your neck.

“Yeah, I’m fine.” His cheeks were still stuffed with food, words coming out slightly jumbled. “I figured today could be the day we get some good old hands-on practice!”

“Okay, I’m both confused and worried at the same time.” You started eating, the warmth from the food spreading through your body and instantly brightening you up from the bone chilling cold night before. 

You both ate in silence, Changbin finishing before you and spending his extra time looking at the Christmas tree. He had a small smile on his face, the lights from the ornaments dancing across his features. With the soft light from the tree illuminating you both, you sat staring at Changbin, who was quite literally glowing.

“Okay so what are we doing today?” You asked, sending your plate away once you had finished eating.

A sly grin made its way onto Changbin’s face and he leaned forward, hand resting underneath his chin. “It’s a surprise.”

“Oh, great. I love surprises.” You said sarcastically, yet a smile still popped up. As much as you tried to act upset or annoyed at not knowing, you couldn’t stop the warmth that filled you at having Changbin’s smile, albeit mischievous, directed at you.

Changbin stood up, extending his hand towards you. Confused, you stood up as well, putting your hand into his and feeling the warmth heat up when he interlaced your fingers. “Close your eyes.” The last thing you saw before darkness washed over you was the slight tint of pink on Changbin’s cheeks and the tilt of his lips up in a now genuine smile.

You inched forward slowly, Changbin’s hand firmly secured in your own so you didn’t accidentally walk into a wall or something. “Just trust me.” Changbin’s voice came from directly next to you and he squeezed your hand softly. You chose not to reply, just squeezing his hand back and waiting as he started picking up the pace.

When you finally started walking normally you focused your other senses, listening to the pictures mumble things about people in the castle over break, to which Changbin firmly shushed them. His hand was warm, palm moist with a thin layer of sweat. Whether it was from your hand in his or the warmth of the fireplaces providing heat you didn’t know. 

From what you knew of the placement of the paintings, you were headed in the opposite direction of the library. As you already guessed, you knew that you weren’t going there, yet the curiosity still ate you up inside. 

All of a sudden Changbin stopped and you almost ran into him, a sound of surprise coming from your lips. The feeling of his eyes on you even though you couldn’t see him made you impatient. You tapped your shoe on the ground, trying to fill the silence with some sort of noise. 

“Okay you can open your eyes.” Changbin said, slowly disconnecting your hands and you had to fight to keep the frown off your face.

Opening your eyes you found you were stood in front of the door to the Herbology room, the full glass wall showing the rows and rows of plants all laid out. The thought of actually handling them while the professor wasn’t there was worrying, and you looked towards a smiling Changbin with raised eyebrows.

“So we’re going to be messing with the plants? Without the professor?” Your voice raised slightly in worry.

“Well, yeah. Why else would I bring you here?” The smile on Changbin’s face comforted you, yet you still had the thought of not being allowed in there. “I know what you’re thinking,” Changbin continued on when he noticed you not answering, “Professor Longbottom asked me to stay behind during break to tend to the plants. You could say I have a green thumb.” He gave a thumbs up and you chuckled.

“So I’m not gonna die of a mandrake’s scream or anything?” Changbin chuckled at your question. 

“Just trust me.” He said, opening up the door and gesturing for you to walk in. “I wouldn’t let you die, there’s no one else to pin it on if you do.” 

“Ha ha,” you faked a laugh, walking into the Herbology room. It was a completely glass room, and you could see the thick snow blanket on the ground outside. You had to admit it was a very beautiful sight, and you stood in awe. The rainbow of plants contrasting with the pitch white outside was picture perfect.

“Beautiful isn’t it?” Changbin came up behind you, walking down to the opposite end of the room. From there, he picked up two pots, each with similar looking leaves and shapes. You were still mesmerized by the picturesque background to focus on anything that was happening in the warm room. 

“Penny for your thoughts?” Changbin asked, much closer. He was still holding the two pots of plants.

“It’s just, so beautiful.” You had seen snow plenty of times before, being at Hogwarts for five years and being there for the slow building cold months, but nothing compared to the sight you saw. The inches of snow coating the ground made everything look bright, even the dark leaves on the trees at the edge of the forest were stark white. It was like a winter wonderland you would only see on TV.

“Yea it is.” Changbin sat the pots down, turning around and leaning on the table. He faced the outside, a soft smile on his face as he watched the slow cascading of the snow. “I’ve been staying here for the past two years to take care of the plants and I’ll never get tired of how gorgeous this view is.” 

When you tore your eyes away from the outside you looked towards Changbin, your face becoming hot upon noticing he was staring at you. You smiled at him, turning around towards the plants on the table. “So what are these?” You asked. You recognized the colors and leaf shapes but you doubted you could dig deep in your brain to remember what their names and purposes were.

“Well,” Changbin turned around, gesturing to the plant on the left. “This one is wormwood. We’ve used it before in Potions class. It’s most commonly used for healing potions, but putting too much could result in extreme effects including death. Kinda ironic.”

You nodded along, watching the way Changbin softly petted the plant. It was almost as if he was communicating with them. His touch was gentle, the same sort of gentle as when he held your hand while leading you to the classroom.

“This one is very similar, both in looks and use. This is dittany.” He pointed to the other plant to his right. “It’s used for healing but doesn’t need to be mixed into a potion, just one leaf could heal a skin wound.” 

You again nodded at what he was saying, trying to distinguish between the two. It became easier as you observed them up close, closer than the professor would let anyone in class. Everything started clicking together and as you listened to Changbin go on and on about each and every plant in the room (besides the mandrakes, you already knew plenty from the extensive lesson in second-year) you started understanding just how to tell the difference between each and every plant. For so long you despised walking into Herbology class but the way Changbin described it made it seem so simple and even a little bit fun.

As he went on you helped him tend to the plants, listening to him naming and describing each one along the way. The way his eyes would light up upon looking at each different pot as he walked along made a smile appear on your face. He was so engulfed in talking that he didn’t notice you stop at the end of a row, watching as he was oblivious to everything happening around him.

When he finally noticed you weren't behind him he had reached the opposite end of the row, turning around and seeing you standing so far away at the other end of the room. He had stopped talking, fingers tapping on the wood table in front of him. His lip was pulled between his teeth, a hint of rose on his cheeks.

“Sorry, I get carried away with talking about the plants.” He shrugged, looking back up at you. 

“No it’s okay.” It was your turn to get embarrassed, even though moments ago you had kind of, not really, been staring at him unabashedly. “I’m learning so much better than if I was stuck in front of a textbook all day. Besides,” You started walking up the row slowly, recalling all the plant’s names in your head. You could remember some of them, and you thought that even a little progress was progress nonetheless. “I love listening to people talk about what they’re passionate about.”

“What are you passionate about?” Changbin asked.

You thought for a moment, your feet stopping in front of a lily flower. “Learning.” You started, “I’ve also really loved astronomy since I was a kid. It’s one of my best subjects.” 

“I’m not that great with astronomy. They’re so far away that I just end up not caring too much but the stars are pretty to look at.”

“I can help you with it one day if you want?” You asked as you started to walk forward again. Outside a strong wind whistled through the trees but you paid no mind, focusing instead on the pricks of the leaves of each plant you passed by. You made sure not to touch the poisonous ones, Changbin was a plant expert but he couldn’t stop the effects of any of the deadly plants.

There was silence as Changbin nodded, turning around to load the mister with water for the plants. By the time you made your way up to him he had finished, facing you again with the same pink cheeks and smile on his face. You pushed down the thought of leaning forward just a bit more, and instead pulled back, one of your hands going to stroke the leaves of a dittany plant. The room was a mix of scents, though the unmistaken rush of cinnamon from the scarf around your neck flushed everything else out. 

“I, uh, I think that's enough for the day.” Changbin was the first to break the silence, one hand playing with his sleeve while the other tapped on the table in front of him. “Those are all the ones Professor Longbottom said would be on the test, but don’t tell him I told you.”

“There’s no paintings in here to eavesdrop and rat us out so your secret’s safe with me.” You made a lock gesture over your mouth, lightly tossing the imaginary key over your shoulder. 

“Hm.” He put his hand on his chin, stroking an imaginary beard. “Okay, I guess I can trust you.”

“Well you've already told me so you’ve got no choice.” You laughed, noticing the sun starting to set outside. Long shadows made the glass room you were in seem much more eerie. “So, should we get going back to our rooms? It’s getting dark.”

Changbin leaned forward, the same damned smirk on his face and you didn’t know whether you wanted to slap it off or kiss it off. “Are you scared? I can protect you.” He raised his right arm, flexing it but with his thick robe in the way you couldn’t see any hint of muscle.

“If anyone is gonna need protecting it’s you,” You jabbed at his arm, laughing when he feigned hurt. “I’m the stronger one here.” You mimicked Changbin, holding up your right arm and flexing.

“Remind me never to meet you in an alley, I’m afraid I’ll get my ass beat.” Changbin held up his hands in defeat, eyebrows raised and a loud laugh coming from his mouth. When he lowered his arms his smile lowered as well. “It’s getting really dark though, do you want me to walk you back to your Common Room?” 

You were going to decline, but then you remembered what you said only moments ago. Perhaps tonight was the best night to help him in return. “Actually, I have a surprise for you.”

Another strong wind from outside rustled the branches of the trees. The sun had almost completely set, and you knew that was the perfect opportunity to go somewhere you had been missing out on since everyone left for break. 

“Oh? Okay, where are we going?” Changbin asked.

“It’s a surprise.” You smirked, leaning forward and grabbing his hand as he did to you earlier in the day. “Close your eyes.” 

You waited for Changbin to close his eyes, not before giving you a very suspicious look to which you raised your eyebrows. Once he did, you interlaced your fingers with his, taking notice on how sweaty they were. Deciding not to torture him too much, you started walking, taking special care not to bump him into any walls or anything. 

“You better not be leading me to the pools to push me in.” Changbin threatened from behind you, the hand that wasn’t grasped in yours covering his eyes. 

“I’m not that cruel.” You chuckled, almost wincing at how tight he was holding your hand. On the surface you could see no nervousness, but with the way his fingers twitched and the small scrunch of his nose you knew he was hesitant. “Just trust me, I trusted you right?” When Changbin made a small noise of agreement you continued. “Exactly, you’ll be fine.” 

A silence filled the castle as you continued walking, knowing it was only a few more minutes before you made it to your destination. A deep rumble came from behind you and before you could ask any questions the familiar notes of a Christmas song came flowing around you. You decided not to say anything, enjoying the soft sound of Changbin’s voice behind you drowning out the murmurs of the paintings you passed. 

By the time you got to the tower Changbin was humming the end of the Christmas song, his thumb tapping the rhythm into your hand. It was quite comforting to have his voice fill the silence, bouncing off the walls and seemingly echoing through the whole castle.

“Okay.” You stopped in front of the doors, giggling at how Changbin almost ran into you. “You can open your eyes now.” 

Changbin took his hand off his face, eyes opening and immediately finding yours before searching around. His mouth dropped open when he saw the intricate carvings on the door in front of you.

“As payment for you helping me with Herbology I decided to help you with Astronomy.” You released his hand, a cold air rushing in and reminding you how empty it was.

“Aren’t we gonna get in trouble if we’re in there?” Changbin asked, the hand that was previously in yours fall to his side, palm slowly rubbing on his robe.

“Professor Sinistra lets me up here all the time.” You proceeded forward, holding open the door and waiting for him to follow. “I go up here at least twice a week, you’ll be fine, I promise.” 

Changbin didn’t say anything as he followed, the only sounds being your feet on the steps going up to the top of the tower. You had climbed these steps hundreds of times before but it never really got easier, you found. It was extremely tall, the tallest thing in the castle, and your legs always felt like jelly by the time you made it to the top. 

That time, as well, your legs wobbled when you finally reached the top, but a hand rested lightly on your back, steadying you and preventing you from falling. “Careful.” Changbin’s voice was very close behind you, his fingertips just barely pressing into your spine. “I thought you said you had been up here many times before.” 

“I guarantee your legs would never get used to walking up these stairs either.” You shot him a side eye, walking over to the far end of the room and sitting down. “Come on.” You patted the spot next to you. You didn’t see Changbin come to sit next to you but you felt his presence move and eventually settle beside you. 

“It’s so beautiful.” Changbin followed your eyes to the ceiling. Night had settled in and with the darkness of the forest around the castle it only amplified the bright show above your heads. You made a noise of agreement, your shoulder brushing up against Changbin’s. 

“So, test time.” Changbin groaned at your statement and you rolled your eyes, resting back on your hands as you continued to search the sky for the perfect question. “Where is Capella?”

Once you found it yourself, you looked over at Changbin, chuckling at the absolutely clueless look on his face. The light from the stars lit up his features, his pouted lips, scrunched up nose and quick flickering eyes all shone with a glittering shimmer. 

“Don’t laugh at me!” Changbin’s pout extended further when he heard your laugh, “How do you find them? They all look the same.” 

You tried to not laugh anymore, but the way his lip jutted out and the loud sigh that escaped him was too cute, so you chuckled again. “You have to put it in perspective of Polaris, the North Star.”

“There,” You pointed up towards the bright star directly above you both, “is Polaris. So Capella is due east of Polaris and it’s also one of the brightest stars. We learned about this in second year. There it is.” You found the constellation it was in and pointed, looking over at Changbin and finding him squinting in the general direction of where your finger was. 

“Which one?” Changbin asked, still squinting towards the stars. 

You sat up, leaning over and grabbing one of Changbin’s arms. Time seemed to slow down as your fingers danced up his arm, pushing his fingers down until only his index finger was up. You guided his hand until he was pointing at the star in question, but you didn’t let go of him.

“There it is.” You didn’t feel the need to raise your voice so you softly spoke into the air around you. “There’s Capella.” 

When you finally let go of his hand you turned to him, a near silent gasp escaping you when you realized just how close you were. Your noses were almost touching and you felt both the warmth from his breath and from his body heat. There was also a familiar warmth that started at your face and spread through your whole body. You were almost tempted to take off your - Changbin’s - scarf but you decided against it, knowing the cold would creep in quickly.

“Penny for your thoughts?” Changbin had lowered his hand and it was resting in his lap. The fog from his breath lingered in the air before floating up towards the stars.

You tried to think of something to tell him other than the overwhelming warmth that undoubtedly came from being under his gaze, or the fact that you were only mere inches away from kissing him. It was something you never really entertained the idea of, dating. Sure, there were cute guys and girls at the school but you knew studying was way more important. 

But spending the past few days with Changbin, laughing and studying and having quite possibly the best time in a while with him, all you thought about was spending whatever time you could with him. Perhaps it was the loneliness or perhaps it was actually Changbin, you weren’t sure but you were more than happy to spend the rest of the break with him. 

“Uh,” You stuttered, moving away from him and looking down at your hands. Your face burned and when you looked back up at Changbin you saw his cheeks were a bright crimson. “Just really happy that I have someone to spend the break with. I can imagine how lonely it must be to be the only person in the castle.”

“Yeah,” Changbin looked down at his hands in his lap. “I love taking care of the plants but the past two years have been kinda lonely.” He shrugged, looking back up at you. By the time his eyes met your his cheeks had slowly lost their red color. “But you’re here now so it’s much better now.”

You nodded, and through the silence you felt the tendrils of sleep clawing at your brain. You fought back a yawn and looked back up at the stars. Ever since first year you had been coming up there at night to watch the stars. There was something so peaceful and serene about sitting in the tower and just sitting underneath the stars.

“Tired?” Changbin smiled softly. When you nodded he stood up, extending his hand to you. “I’ll walk you back to your Common Room.”

You reached forward and let yourself get helped up, smiling back at him. As soon as you were upright he let go of your hand and you fought not to get disappointed at the lack of his hand in yours. 

“My brain is melted from talking about Herbology.” You laughed as you started walking down the steps of the tower. “So many plants and uses and effects.”

“I feel the same about Astronomy and Charms, an infinite amount of stars and hundreds of thousands of spells to memorize. It’s fucking impossible.” Changbin said, his feet making a loud echo through the stone walls. 

“Nothing is impossible.” You countered, focusing your eyes on your feet and trying not to miss a step. “Things get hard but not impossible.” 

You walked in silence, the only sound you heard was the soft footsteps and the whispers of the paintings. 

“You shouldn’t be out at night.” A woman spoke loudly from one of the paintings. The pictures around her seemed to get the message in a chain reaction, they all looked around at each other and repeated the same phrase. 

In your head you knew the paintings couldn’t do anything at that moment to get you in trouble, but you also knew they could relay messages to professors when everyone got back. You looked back at Changbin, eyebrows furrowed in worry.

“Can’t we just have some fun?” Changbin shot back at the paintings, and you watched with amusement as they all were silenced. “You’ll probably forget by the time everyone comes back anyways.” 

You both laughed as the paintings disappeared behind their borders. As your laugher dissipated a low hum came from behind you and you smiled at the sound of whatever song Changbin was humming along to. 

The walk to your Common Room wasn’t too long, so you got there before Changbin could finish the first song. There wasn’t much else to say, but you also found that you didn’t really need words to convey whatever you were feeling.

You nodded towards Changbin, the small hint of a smile being somewhat hidden by the yellow scarf around your neck. Heat creeped up your face when Changbin mirrored your expression, his eyes never leaving yours.

“I’ll see you tomorrow.” It came out as more of a statement than a question but you still nodded to confirm. “Great.” Changbin stood still, not moving. “I’ll, uh, I’ll go now.”

When you nodded again you turned to the door to your Common Room, watching out of the corner of your eye to see Changbin turning around, fingers playing with the sleeves of his robe and head ducked low. You read the riddle on the picture above the door, getting distracted when you heard a voice from the hallway.

It was singing.

It was Changbin. 

You stood there in front of the door and listened to him singing. Although you couldn’t really distinguish any words other than ‘love’ and ‘snow’, you were still in awe at how pretty he sounded. His singing was much different than his speaking voice. Where his voice was deep and rough, his singing was light and airy. Never in a million years would you expect him to sing like that but you loved it.

His voice slowly dissipated as he walked away, and you stayed standing there until the last note could be heard following him towards the Hufflepuff Common Room. You wondered if he would still be singing in his dorm room, and you thought of him pacing his room, a serious look on his face as he continued to sing. 

You were disappointed when you could no longer hear him, so you quickly solved the riddle to get into your Common Room. By the time you had finally settled into your bed, changing from your robe into something far more comfortable, you realized something. If it was possible for you to fall deeper into your feelings for Seo Changbin, you were Alice falling down the rabbit hole.

“Fuck.” You said to yourself, hands going to rub at your eyes in an attempt to scrub all the thoughts from your brain. That, unfortunately, did not work, and you continued to think about Changbin’s beautiful singing and bright smile and everything else about him until you eventually fell asleep. 

vi.

After days of the same routine, going to the Herbology room for the day to learn about the next batch of plants and then to the Astronomy Tower to try and teach Changbin about another cluster of stars, you were quite literally burnt out. 

Yeah, it was endearing to see how passionate Changbin got about the plants, and helping him tend to them really boosted your knowledge, but it got to the point where you felt as though your brain was going to burst from how full it felt. You were also sure Changbin felt the same way because the last night you went to the tower he had fallen asleep, cheek squished on your shoulder and soft breaths escaping into fog around you.

“I’m so done with studying.” Changbin groaned as he hung his head over his plate of food. It was almost empty and you laughed at him almost dipping his nose in his syrupy pancakes.

“We can do something else if you want.” You suggested, finishing up your breakfast and sending your plate away. 

Changbin lifted his head up, mouth tilted and nose scrunched in thought. You waited for a few moments, observing the way his teeth teased his bottom lip and his eyes flickering between the lights hanging above.  

All of a sudden it was like a lightbulb had been lit up above his head, his whole body stiffening up and his eyes quickly snapping to meet yours. “I know what we should do!” You shushed him when his voice came out just tad bit louder than you would have liked, even though there was no one else in the room to be annoyed.

“Please tell me it’s not a surprise.” Not that you would have hated if it was a surprise as that meant you would have gotten to hold his hand again which you definitely weren’t opposed to, but you weren’t too keen on not knowing where you were going. 

“Well it would be pretty hard to hide this surprise so I’ll say no.” He chuckled, finishing his food at a very alarming rate. “Come on, let’s go!” The excitement in his voice only served to make your heart pump faster as well, a big smile curling past the edge of your scarf.

You followed him as he stood up, eyebrows raising as he stuck out his hand again. If this wasn’t a surprise, why did he want to hold your hand? You thought as you looked at him.

And he seemed to read your mind, because a pink hue spread across his face, the hand that wasn’t held out to you coming up to the back of his neck. “Oh, just so I don’t lose you.” Changbin smiled but it was more of a nervous one than the excited smile he had shown only moments before. “You know, the castle is really big. One wrong turn and we’re miles away from each other!”

His logic was sound, and you definitely weren’t opposed to holding his hand again so you made no protest, reaching forward and feeling warmth envelop you as your fingers intertwined again. While you weren’t sure exactly what the warm feeling was, you knew that it felt nice and it spread through your whole body. It wasn’t a hot warmth, but a comforting one, and you wanted to feel it all the time.

But if it only happened when you were near Changbin then, fuck. Perhaps you liked Changbin more than thought, or wanted to think, but you knew that at the end of the break you would go back to being strangers and you didn’t want to face that heartbreak. 

“Where are we going?” You asked, noticing that instead of turning right or left at the Great Hall doors, Changbin started walking forward, toward the front of the castle.

Changbin didn’t answer you until you were skirting the edge of the forest, the cold breeze nipping at your nose and cheeks. “It’s boring in the castle so I figured we could go to Hogsmeade.” When he turned back to you his nose was red, cheeks still pink and eyes sparkling with excitement.

“Is that allowed?” Your hand gripped Changbin’s tightly, the freezing temperatures making you cling to any warmth you could get and obviously it was all coming from him.

“There are no professors here to get us in trouble, and the people at Hogsmeade aren’t going to give a shit about our robes or anything.” Changbin shrugged, and you noticed you weren’t headed in the normal direction of village, but through a small path in the middle of the woods.

“Aren’t you supposed to be a Hufflepuff? You know, always following rules.” Your questions kept coming, and you looked sideways. Changbin’s nose was red, his cheeks almost matching. His scarf nearly covered his mouth, but you could still see the fog from his breath escaping through the fibers. As the snow fell around you, you noticed small snowflakes sticking to Changbin’s eyelashes. 

Before you could catch yourself staring, he turned to you, the snowflakes on his eyelashes slowly melting every time he blinked. “Even a Hufflepuff has to have some fun.” He winked at you, the tip of his lips curling above the scarf in a sly smile. 

The walk to Hogsmeade was much quicker than the normal way, and you wondered how many people knew of the shortcut. By the time Changbin had turned back to look down the path, a large brick wall was coming into view. Paired with the mix of talking, laughing and music growing louder as you approached, you were surprised at how quick you had made it there.

“Wow, that was quick.” You noted, looking up and down the wall and seeing you were right outside the village. There was no door, however, just the dark bricks that were jutting out in a distinct pattern.

Instead of responding, Changbin released your hand and you hoped he didn’t spot the way your bottom lip mimicked the bricks, jutting out slightly. He took out his wand, tapping a seemingly random array of bricks and you watched in awe as a small portion of the wall began swinging open. 

Behind the door you could see a steady stream of people walking up and down the streets and you realized you were right in the middle of Hogsmeade, without having to go through the front gates and deal with security. Changbin motioned for you to follow him, and without any thought behind your decision, you reached out and grabbed his hand. His eyes were cast downward and cheeks significantly redder than previously. 

“So I don’t lose you.” You mumbled out, feeling your face heat up and lip being teased by your teeth. The boy connected to you nodded, his fingers gripping yours tightly, but not tight enough that it got uncomfortable. If anything, you noticed the familiar warmth spread through you but this time it started at your hand in his.

“Come on, let’s go.” Changbin quickly started walking, and you looked behind to see the secret door slowly closing, the lines where it was opened now smooth again. You followed quietly behind, the people walking around you paying no attention to two students coming out of a dark alley together. It was understandable, with the holidays closely approaching, people would surely be more occupied with finding presents than busting students.

“Where do you wanna go first?” Changbin turned around to ask you, turning into a space away from the constant wave of people walking, not wanting to get swept away in the crowd. The constant talking and music around you made it hard for you to hear him, and you leaned closer, a sound of confusion coming from your throat. Changbin leaned forward, and you felt his nose almost touch the shell of your ear. “I said, where do you wanna go first?”

You looked around, taking in the shops around you and deciding to start there and just keep walking. Immediately to your right was the bookshop, Tomes and Scrolls, and you thought about seeing if there were any new astronomy books you could read. 

You turned to Changbin, a small gasp escaping you when you realized just how close you were. The tip of your nose just brushed his before he pulled away slightly, the tips of his ears burning red.

“Uh,” You stuttered, eyes trailing down to his lips and the way his teeth teased the bottom one. “Can we go to Tomes and Scrolls? I want to see if there are any new astronomy books.” When you looked back up at his eyes, you were surprised to see him staring at your lips. 

“Sure.” Changbin looked away, towards the bookstore only a few steps away. He seemed to be thinking to himself before he nodded. “Yea, let’s go.” He tugged your hand, weaving through the current of people, but not without catching a few dirty gazes for occasionally bumping into someone. 

As soon as you entered the building you were hit by the smell of old parchment. It was a very familiar smell, having been there more times than you could count when you would walk through Hogsmeade during weekends. You noticed there weren’t many people in the large shop, and knowing exactly where you needed to go, you started walking there.

Once you reached the row of books you had been looking for, the science section, you turned towards the one still connected by your hands. Changbin was looking around, the old antiques lining windowsills and shelves intriguing him.

“If you want, you can go look at whatever you want.” You let go of his hand, loosening your scarf as you had just walked into a room with heating. “You don’t have to stay by my side if you don’t want to.” 

“I don’t mind.” Changbin countered but made no move to grab for your hand again. “I don’t have any books I want to look for anyway.” He smiled, gesturing towards the shelf of books. “Go ahead, nerd.”

You lightly smacked his arm, sticking your tongue out at him and beginning to walk down the aisle, but not before throwing a, “You’re the nerd here, plant boy.”

Soft footsteps followed behind you, and you began to forget about your surroundings as you immersed yourself in the books. Most of them you had read before, some of them being presents from friends or your parents and others being given to you by Professor Sinistra had gifted you for being the top of the class. 

After you had picked out a few books you were interested in, you turned to Changbin, finding him looking very confused at a book of the history of the planets. You chuckled at him, walking the few steps until you found yourself next to him.

“Having fun?” You asked, laughing when said boy looked up at you with an incredibly clueless face. 

“This all feels like another language.” Changbin snapped the book shut, putting it where he found it and fully facing you. “Are you done?” The sentence would sound impatient if it weren’t for the smile on his face. When you nodded, Changbin motioned for you to go checkout, and you walked in silence with him behind you.

As you put your books down on the counter, you smiled towards George, the store owner. “Hi Mister George!” Everyone always called him by his first name and he always had a bright smile on his face despite the slight shake in his hand and the need for a cane to walk.

“Hello Y/N, it’s been a while! Found some books you haven't read yet?” His smile made him look so much younger. George started ringing up your two books, looking between you and Changbin yet he didn’t say anything.

“Yea, studying for OWLs set me back a little bit but I’m sure I’ll catch up with your supply soon.” You chuckled, trying to think back to the last time you had came by this store and not remembering.

“I’m sure you’ll do amazing, sweetie.” George finished ringing up your books, sliding them back to you. 

After you paid you reached forward to grab the books, only to be cut off by Changbin getting there first. When you turned to him, he simply shrugged saying, “I’ll carry them for you.”

You pouted, crossing your arms over your chest and sighing. “I can do it.”

“I know, I want to carry them for you.” He countered, bringing them closer to his body.

A chuckle came from next to you, and you both looked towards the noise, finding George looking at you two with another large smile. “You two are cute together. Remind me of my wife and I, both stubborn as hell but still in love.”

You wanted to say something but your face was aflame, ears burning and head tilted toward the ground. Instead of responding, you changed the subject, “I’ll see you later, Mister George, happy holidays.” You didn’t look at Changbin as you walked away, only knowing he was following behind you when you heard his footsteps and then eventually felt his hand envelop yours. 

Neither of you said anything about what George said, but with one look at Changbin you were sure your ears probably matched his own, bright red. You would have liked to say something about what happened, apologize for not correcting him, apologizing for not confirming what he said, but to be honest you weren’t too sure of your feelings. 

“Do you mind if we go to Dervish and Banges, the magic store?” Changbin asked, nodding towards the building only a few shops down, his hands preoccupied. “I want to get a few gifts.” 

“Of course, let’s go.” You agreed, quickly making your way down the road and running into the shop.

There were more people than the bookstore, loud chatter echoing through the whole shop and you felt Changbin loosen his grip on your hand. You let go immediately, looking over at him and seeing him searching for something.

“Should we split up?” You knew you could find a few gifts for your friends, and you wanted to give Changbin some privacy. “You’re probably sick of always being stuck with me.”

Changbin chuckled, shaking his head. “Not yet.” He paused for a second. “I’m just kidding, by the way. I don’t mind being with you. I mean, stuck with you.” He corrected himself, adjusting the books that had settled on his hip. “But yea, let’s split up and find our gifts. Then we can head back to the castle.” 

“Sure, sounds good.” You held your hands out. “Let me carry the books,” when Changbin didn’t hand them over you continued, “at least until we are done in here.”

“Okay.” Changbin drew out the last syllable, slowly giving them back to you. “But only until we are headed back to the castle, and then I’ll carry them. Let’s meet back at the front of the store in an hour.”

You nodded, turning on your heels and heading straight for the sweets section. If there was one thing you knew about Luna it was that she loved sweets. Looking through the different assortment of delicious looking things you settled on chocolate frogs, recalling once she had tried to keep one of the frogs in their dorm room and for the next month it smelled like stale milk. For a moment you debated getting her the chocolate frogs, but figured that she had learned her lesson the first time. 

For a while you were strolling up the aisles, looking at different gadgets and things. For Seungmin you had gotten a journal that had a whiteboard on the front, allowing him to doodle anything he wanted on it, it also came with a paper with a spell on it to animate the drawing.

You had also gotten something for Changbin, and you hoped it wouldn't be weird getting a present for someone you had only known for two weeks. It was a small snow globe, but instead of it being full of water or small flecks of artificial snow, it was an ecosystem full of plants. They were all alive, still growing from sprouts in the bottom of the globe. You thought that he could have his own greenhouse in his dorm room for when he couldn’t walk down to the large Herbology room. 

But, Han Jisung was an enigma. He was arguably your best friend at Hogwarts, ever since you walked into the Ravenclaw Common Room and saw a very hyper Jisung playing tag with some of the other students. He had ran into you, helping you up and introducing himself. Now five years later you told him all your secrets and he told you all of his and you wanted to get him something really special for when he came back from break. 

Finally you had settled on the quills, knowing how much he wrote, especially music, on anything he could. Sometimes you would go back to bed with ink marks on your arms from where Jisung just started drawing musical notes. 

There was a huge assortment of quills, and you were quite taken aback by it. Anything from quills that told jokes to quills that wrote in invisible ink that were only visible with a spell, they all were laid out in front of you and you were extremely indecisive.

That was, until you saw it. It was a medium sized quill with a very dark feather. At first glance it looked like any normal, non magic quill, but once you picked it up you read the tag.

“Turn any song into actual music with the flick of your wrist! Just draw a music note and listen as the quill plays it for you!” 

You smiled, clutching onto it as if it was the last one. It was perfect, you thought as you made your way up to the front, handing over the things you got to the cashier. Everything you had gotten seemed to perfectly encapsulate the ones you got them for, and you were excited to be able to hand them over and see their reactions. 

However there was still a nagging feeling at the back of your mind that Changbin would find it weird that you got him a present. Maybe I shouldn’t give it to him. You thought as you retrieved the bag of items from the cashier, walking toward the front with the bag in one hand and your books in the other. 

At the front of the store you already spotted Changbin, a small bag in his hand and the other shoved into the pocket of his robe. When he spotted you he smiled before reaching out. Rolling your eyes, you handed over your books, watching as he maneuvered them to one arm, that same hand holding onto his bag.

“Ready to go?” Changbin asked, his scarf already tucked into his robe and nearly covering his mouth. 

You nodded, doing the same to your scarf (which was still Changbin’s, but at this point you really didn’t want to give it back). “Yep! I can’t wait to get back for dinner and then sleep.” If you knew anything, it was that you had no expectations of going back to the castle and studying. One day breaks can be beneficial. Besides, you already felt as if there was nothing else new to learn, and you still had a month to review. 

“I never thought I would hear a Ravenclaw complain about studying.” A soft chuckle escaped into the air as Changbin once again grabbed your hand with his free one. It went without saying anything and you accepted his fingers gripping onto yours as you walked side by side. 

“Just because we like learning doesn’t mean we like studying.” You weren’t wrong, what with the amount of groans and complaints you heard in the Common Room when studying for OWLs started you were sure that if anything, most Ravenclaws despised studying.

There was a comfortable silence that washed over you as you walked, your connected hands swinging slightly as you made your way to the secret door back to the castle. Changbin mumbled something under his breath, his hand disconnecting briefly from ours, wand tapping seemingly the same pattern as when you had entered, and you set off on the short walk back to the castle, his hand subconsciously finding his way back to yours.

“Penny for your thoughts?” He asked from beside you, eyes still focused on the white covered path. It was like a winter wonderland, but you also knew the monsters that could be hiding in any nook or behind any tree so you wanted to get back as quick as possible.

“Why do you always ask that?” It was definitely what was on your mind, and you had hoped you didn’t come across as rude. “I didn’t mean it like that, I am just curious.”

“No, it’s okay.” Changbin started swinging your hands, the cold breeze it created making you shiver slightly. “I guess it’s just an easy way to start a conversation, and it lets others talk about what they want to talk about instead of just talking about something random.”

“I never thought about it that way.” You continued walking, your hand stopped swinging in favor of Changbin’s thumb softly rubbing the top of your hand. You assumed it was on accident, a subconscious thing that he does, but he had never done it before. Not that you minded in the slightest, which was why you didn’t say anything, letting him continue on, a shy smile slipping onto your face. 

As soon as you made it to the castle you both raced into the Great Hall, the smell of dinner wafting through the walls and making your stomach growl. There was only a week and a half until break was over and five days until Christmas, so each meal leading up to the holiday seemed even more delicious than the last.

You ate quickly, the hunger in your stomach almost unbearable now that you sat down and relaxed. Besides the loud noises of you eating, there was silence, not even the fairy at the top of the tree singing. Once you were done you pushed your plate away, watching Changbin do the same. 

“I’m officially done with today.” You leaned back in your chain, your scarf hanging behind the back. “I mean, I had a great time but I’m so tired.” Sleep crawled at your eyelids and you fought not to succumb to it, especially not sitting up in a chair where there was a high possibility your body hits the floor.

“We should head to bed, we exerted a lot of energy.” Changbin mumbled, his eyes also almost closing, his bottom lip poked out in a pout and you had to convince yourself to not kiss him in your sleepy haze.

You made a noise of agreement, too tired to even form words. Your plates still sat there and with a groan you sent them away. Each second you were awake was another second that you felt sleep pulling you under.

“Come on, we should get to bed before we both fall asleep at the table.” Changbin stood up and you saw he was much more coherent than you were. Albeit, he was still swaying on his feet, eyes drooping every couple of seconds. 

Standing up, you shook your head, forcing yourself to wake up just enough to get to your bed. You grabbed your bag and books and fixed the scarf back onto your neck. With a tired smile you reached towards Changbin’s hand, interlocking fingers like you had been doing over and over the past two weeks.

Your feet dragged as you walked and at some point Changbin let go of your hand in favor of wrapping a hand around your waist. Although you were somewhere between sleep and awake, you registered his soft breath on your ear and his voice saying, “You didn’t sleep much last night, did you?”

Thinking back to it, you really hadn’t. You decided to get in some study time by yourself, talking out loud into the room and trying not to think about Changbin’s handsome face. By the time you had deemed yourself done with studying for the night, it was well past midnight, so with some quick, sleepy calculating you held up four fingers to signal how many hours you figured you got. 

Changbin nodded, keeping silent as the walk to your Common Room felt like hours but was only a few minutes. You were coherent enough to eventually pick your feet up fully, but you leaned to the side, resting your head on Changbin’s shoulder. If he didn’t like it, you could just blame it on the fatigue when you saw him in the morning. He didn’t seem to mind though, just walking along as his fingers pressed even more on your waist to keep you upright.

The riddle at the doorknob blinked, indicating you hadn’t solved it yet. Changbin looked over at you and you shook your head, rubbing off sleep just enough to be able to solve the riddle with ease. (They tended to reuse riddles a lot and within the five years of you being there you had seen a few many times before.)

“Get some sleep, Y/N.” Changbin whispered in your ear, thumb softly stroking your waist and you felt a shiver race through you. Whether that was because of the cold or because of Changbin’s extremely close proximity, you weren’t sure. Although sleep was relentlessly trying to pull you under, you were coherent enough to register just how much you liked him saying your name. 

You nodded, not wanting to take your head off his shoulder and definitely not wanting to leave his very warm presence. “Okay.” You finally mumbled after a few seconds. “You too, get some sleep Changbin.”

“I will. I promise.” Changbin laughed, and guided you towards the door. 

As you stepped through the threshold the door closed behind you, and you stumbled towards your bedroom, a smile on your face when you remembered everything that happened. The bag of your gifts hung from your hand and you set it on Luna’s bed, it’s not like she was using it at that moment anyways. 

When you collapsed in bed, pulling the blanket up to your chin and eyes closing almost instantly, you thought back to how secure you felt with Changbin’s arm around you and how warm you felt when he was around. Sure, you had had crushes before, and that atrocious date at the Yule Ball thanks to Jisung, but what you felt was something unknown and as a Ravenclaw you definitely did not appreciate not knowing what you were feeling.

“Damn you, Seo Changbin.” Your voice trailed off, sleep finally taking over.

vii.

The next four days were filled with relentless studying. You would stay in the library way past curfew with Changbin, scouring the aisles for any types of books that could help you that you hadn’t yet read. At one point you even fell asleep sitting in one of the rows of books, one minute you were searching for a book of potions and the next you were being shaken awake by Changbin.

But the morning of Christmas you woke up early, finding Changbin’s present still sitting on Luna’s bed. You decided to give it to him when you both went to tend to the plants, finding it perfect that his present fit the scenario.

You put his present in a small box, trying slowly to wrap it and make it look somewhat presentable. Unfortunately there wasn’t a spell for it to wrap itself, so you begrudgingly fought with your own fingers in an attempt to cover every inch of the box.

You weren’t sure exactly how long it took you to finally be satisfied with the present, but you did know that the sun was shining in your window, as opposed to the dark pre-sunrise glow from when you started. 

“It’s not that bad.” You said to yourself, holding out the present, observing every angle and deciding that although it did look pieced together, because it was pieced together with a lot of patches of wrapping paper, that it looked good enough to give to Changbin.

Walking down to the Great Hall, the paintings around you sang Christmas carols and you laughed when you realized that none of them matched each other, the lyrics and notes mixing together into a very noisy and unpleasant sound. 

“Can you guys at least sing the same song?” You told them as you walked past, chuckling when that only caused them to have an argument over which Christmas song was superior.

When you finally made it to the Great Hall you were stopped in your tracks, the giant Christmas tree in the middle of the room was lit up even more than it was before. Vibrant blues, greens and purples sparkled on every inch of the tree, and when you looked closer you noticed that the lights were actually moving.

“Merry Christmas!” One of the lights screamed, the high pitched voice causing you to cringe. The lights were actually fairies, flying from branch to branch. Their wings emulated multiple colors, changing every couple of seconds. 

Your eyes then travelled to another sparkling object, but as you approached your regular table you laughed, sitting down across from a very glittery Changbin.

“What happened?” You asked, leaning forward and picking a piece of tinsel out of his hair. His regularly black hair with red streaks instead looked silver under the light, an immense amount of glitter and tinsel stuck in it.

“I tried to ask the fairies to wrap my presents and they bombarded me with this.” Changbin gestured to his hair, shaking his head and laughing when glitter spewed in every direction. “At least they agreed to wrap them. I’m not that coordinated to do it myself.”

“I never thought of that. I would let them drown me in glitter if I didn’t have to wrap mine myself.” You thought back to your horrifically wrapped presents, but decided your friends would rather it be pieced together by you than perfectly wrapped by someone else.

Before you could say anything else two full plates of food flew and quite literally landed on the table. There was almost every type of breakfast you could think of sitting right in front of you and you looked up at Changbin, eyes wider than the plates. Changbin, however, was just smiling excitedly, his eyes scrunched up and cheeks shining with the remnants of glitter that had floated from his hair.

“Holy shit.” You whispered, eyes still trying to take in all the food in front of you.

“Yeah. They always serve this on Christmas. I swear I gain 5 pounds each year because I can’t stop eating.” Changbin laughed, licking his lips in anticipation. He looked like he would dive in immediately but instead he looked up at you, a lopsided grin on his face. “By the way, Merry Christmas.”

“Merry Christmas, Changbin.” You smiled back before staring down at your plate and debating where to start. 

A long groan escaped your lips when you finished eating, the last of the food having been cleared from the plate. It was quite possibly the tastiest meal you had ever had, and you considered staying there for break every year just so you could eat it on Christmas Day. Looking over at Changbin you saw the same expression you harbored, a very exhausted and overwhelmed smile on both of your faces. 

“Oh. My. God.” You shook your head, “I don’t think I can eat anything else ever again.” 

“We still have dinner tonight.” Changbin reminded you, chuckling when you groaned even louder. 

You sat in silence while you waited for the immensely full feeling to pass enough for you to be able to get up. The plates still sat on the table in front of you and neither of you had the energy to send it away this time. 

Before you could gather the energy to lift your wand, a flash of glitter appearing in front of you. “Merry Christmas!” The fairy squeaked. “I’ll take care of your plates. In the meantime,” another flash and she looked above the table. When you looked up your eyes widened, seeing a small mistletoe floating above you. “Why don’t the lovely couple share a Christmas kiss?”

“Oh.” You stuttered, “we aren’t dating, actually.” Daring not to look at Changbin, you locked eyes with the fairy, watching her face drop into a very dissatisfied frown.

“Too bad, you guys look cute together.” She pouted, glitter cascading slowly down her wings as she looked at Changbin and back at you. Her eyebrows raised, like she knew something and your face heated up. “Okay, I get it.” She winked at you, “Have a fun rest of your Christmas.” 

As soon as she had appeared she was gone, the plates and mistletoe following after her. You tried to stall looking back at Changbin, in fear of your face giving your new feelings away, but you figured prolonging anything would only make you look more suspicious.

Changbin’s cheeks were red, eyes downcasted and foot tapping softly on the floor. It wasn’t enough to cause an echo, but enough that the sound travelled the short distance between you. He looked adorable, and if you had enough confidence you would have leant over the table and kissed him right there. But unfortunately you didn’t, so you settled with clearing your throat, that sound echoing through the room.

“So, don’t you need to go tend to the plants?” You had the time table memorized at that point, knowing that after breakfast you would walk with him to the Herbology room, doing the same routine over and over. It would normally have gotten boring, but just being with Changbin made everything interesting. 

“Yeah.” Changbin looked up at you for the first time since the fairy came and took your plates. His hair was splayed across his forehead, nearly covering his eyes, and you almost commented on the fact that he should get a haircut soon but you also noticed just how good his longer hair looked.

“Okay, let’s go.” You tried brushing off the heat sizzling up in you, and the cold air from the cracks in the doors did well at cooling off your burning face. When you stood up you extended your hand, waiting just an extra beat longer than normal for Changbin to slip his hand in yours. 

Rather than awkward, the walk towards the Herbology was filled with tension. Changbin’s hand was sweaty, and neither of you chose to acknowledge it as you weaved through the moving stairs and winding hallways. It wasn’t a long walk to the Herbology room, but when you finally reached the door you disconnected your hands, watching as he unlocked the room. 

His shoulders were slumped as he made his way to the water sprayer, filling it up and then checking each plant carefully. You observed him, his present weighing heavily in your pocket. What if he thought it was weird? There were doubts in the back of your head, but you had already gotten it and seeing the way Changbin looked at each plant, like they were his children, with such care and love, you knew he would like it no matter if thought it was weird.

“Hey Changbin?” You called out to him, the present being held by your two hands behind your back. 

“Yeah?” He said, turning around after setting down a potted plant. His eyes moved to your arms behind your back, eyebrows raised in confusion and a small hint of alarm. “What’s behind your back?”

Instead of answering his question, you giggled, fingers drumming on the small box holding his present. As soon as you were standing directly in front of him, you took the box out from behind your back. Under the lights you got a better look, your lips quirking up into an apologetic smile.

“I tried to wrap it myself but it didn’t go as well as I planned, I definitely fucked it up just a little bit.” Despite it looking as pieced together as a jigsaw puzzle, you were quite proud of yourself for covering each inch of the box. You watched as Changbin took the box out of your hand gently, looking at each and every angle.

“It doesn’t look that bad. It means a lot more that you did it yourself.” Changbin smiled, fingers playing along the edges of the wrapping paper taped on nearly every side. A breathy laugh escaped him as he tried to pull the wrapping paper. “I think you did too good, I can’t get the damn thing off.” 

After a few seconds of struggling with the paper he ripped the top off enough to find the box underneath. A surprised look crossed his face as he slowly removed the top. There was a moment of observing what was inside before he took it out, holding it up to the light. His mouth was slightly hanging open, eyes wide and scouring every little plant that greeted him from inside for snowglobe.

“It’s a snowglobe, except it doesn’t have snow, it has plants.” You explained, pointing to the small sprouts in the soil of the snowglobe. “I figured you could have something to look at when you can’t come here.”

Before you could say anything else, a weight was pressed against you, hands immediately coming around you and resting on your back. Changbin was hugging you, and you quickly relaxed into his arms. He was much warmer than you expected, like a portable heater. The hand that wasn’t holding his present pressed flat on your back, slowly rubbing in circles.

“Thank you.” Changbin repeated over and over. His face was squished into your neck and you felt his breath on your collarbone, a shiver running through you even though you were far from cold. Your own arms wrapped around him, palms holding onto his shoulders and you could feel his muscles moving underneath your hand when you ran it up his spine. 

You didn’t want to let go, but Changbin pulled away first, holding up his plant globe once again to the light. His eyes shone as he scanned each little plant that had shown itself in the couple of days it had been in your room. It was like he didn’t believe it, and you smiled at how happy he looked. 

“So you like it?” Your voice was hopeful, and Changbin’s eyes immediately snapped to yours.

“Of course! I love it.” His smile was everything you could have ever hoped, all the previous worry and nervousness melting off of you. “Why wouldn’t I like it?”

“Well,” when you thought back to your worries, you realized that this was Changbin you were talking about, the sweetest Hufflepuff you had ever seen, even if he liked to break rules sometimes. Hell, he was softer than Seungmin. “I was scared you would think I was weird or something. I mean, we’ve only known each other for two weeks.” Your face heated up voicing your worries to him, but you knew he wouldn't make fun of you for it.

“You’re not weird at all. We’re friends, right?” You nodded, fighting the frown at the word friends. “Then you shouldn’t feel weird. I love it! I’ve been wanting to get a plant for my room but it’s not allowed, this is the perfect substitute.” Changbin’s smile widened again, eyes going back to scanning each and every inch of the plant globe. 

“Good, I’m glad you like it.” The light from outside was slowly dimming, midday already passed and evening creeping up behind it. A bright ray of sun shone directly through the clouds, aiming directly for Changbin’s plant globe. It seemed to feed all the plants in it, and you almost gasped when you saw some of them start to grow taller right before your eyes.

The next hour was spent helping Changbin check on the plants, and within the past week and a half you had learned almost everything you could about all of the ones in the room. How to care for them, how to clean them (at least, the ones you could touch without getting harmed or killed), how to tell if they were in need of more soil or water and how to handle them without setting them off, specifically the mandrakes. 

As soon as you were done checking on them all, you looked towards Changbin, who was still admiring his plant globe every minute. The last remaining light from outside illuminated his features, and you were in awe at just how handsome he looked. 

“Can we go to the Astronomy Tower?” Suddenly Changbin looked at you, asking the question with a nervous hint to his voice. When you nodded, he smiled, and he slowly set his globe in the box you had put it in originally.

Leading him to the tower, you walked in silence, the paintings around you finally on the same page as they all sang the same Christmas song, albeit in varying volumes and pitches. At least it was the same lyrics, you thought as you walked beside Changbin.

Your feet quickly struck the floor, a sense of excitement washing over you because you knew certain stars would be better visible tonight and you couldn’t want to tell Changbin about them. Whenever you would talk about the stars to him, you found his eyes always following your finger as you pointed in the sky. Sometimes he would get it and sometimes he wouldn’t, but just seeing the stars reflected back into his eyes made your feelings for him just dig itself a little bit deeper.

After the tantalus walk up the stairs, you settled for a different spot than before to look at the stars, picking one just a little bit closer to the stairs. Sitting down, you let go of Changbin’s hand, opting instead to start pointing up at all the stars you recognized that you hadn’t yet talked about with him. 

However before you could go very far into your explanation about Pleiades and it’s mythology, you noticed Changbin looking over to the side. “Are you okay?” You asked, your hand moving to rest on his shoulder.

Instead of answering you, Changbin turned back around, his hands clasped around something and before you could ask him anything he interrupted. “Close your eyes.” When your face morphed into one of slight fear and worry, he elaborated. “Just trust me, I have a surprise for you.”

You had trusted him that whole time, so you listened, closing your eyes and relying on your other senses to try and tell what was going on around you. To your right, where Changbin was, you heard a slight rustling and then the sound of fabric on wood. You felt a familiar warmth envelop you and then the feeling of two hands in front of your face.

Trusting him, you didn’t freak out, letting it all happen and suddenly you felt something very cold hit your chest right between your collarbones. Curiosity filled your senses but you waited for Changbin to give you a noise of confirmation to open your eyes. When a small “okay” came from your right you squinted at him, nose scrunched and you were nervous to look down. 

You couldn’t see much of it, but what you did was beautiful. It was a small charm, almost like Saturn itself. There was one dark orb in the middle surrounded by two rings and the one on the inside spun slightly when you moved. It was breathtaking, and you felt your jaw quite literally drop, eyes widening and face burning. 

“Wow.” Was all you could say as you watched Changbin grow more and more visibly nervous. “I love it.” You said, slipping your hand underneath it and admiring the way the night sky seemed to make it shine even brighter.

“That’s not all it does.” Changbin’s hand ruffled his hair, eyes still not leaving the necklace resting almost perfectly directly underneath your collarbones. “Stand up.” His hand was extended towards you and you took it, letting him pull you up before taking out his wand.

One of his hands stayed clasped in yours, the other holding his wand and you stayed staring into his eyes before he was the first one to break it. The tip of his wand tapped your necklace, “astra lumora” he whispered softly and you gasped when immediately you were surrounded by stars. 

Above, below, all around you were bright sparks of stars, and you found yourself looking everywhere you could to find you were quite literally standing among the stars. It was almost as if you were floating in space with nothing around you but the gas balls. 

“This,” your eyes continued to wander before finally settling on Changbin’s bright ones. “Is beautiful. I love it so much.” You couldn’t tear your eyes away from Changbin’s. Despite being in what felt like a dream, sitting among the stars, you were grounded by his eyes on yours. 

“Penny for your thoughts?” A smile flickered on Changbin’s face, and your gaze swapped from his eyes to his lips. There wasn’t really anything else you were thinking about except kissing him, and you decided, fuck it, what better time to confess your rapidly escalating feelings for the Hufflepuff in front of you than while you were surrounded by stars?

“I’m thinking about how much I really want to kiss you.” You were so close that you only needed to whisper it, watching your cold breath escaping as a small cloud in the air. It was going to be heartbreaking if he didn’t feel the same, but it was okay, because at the end of the break you would go back to being just a Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff, not interacting or talking. 

“Ask me the same thing.” Changbin’s thumb rubbed your hand softly, eyes locked on your lips.

“Penny for your thoughts?” Your voice was barely audible, the hand that wasn’t clasped in his moving up his arm to eventually rest on the back of his neck. The hairs there were sticking up and whether that was because of the cold or your proximity, you weren’t sure.

Changbin took another step closer to you, your nose brushing his. His wand was gone, tucked away into his robe as his hand wrapped around you, resting on the small of your back. “I’ve been thinking the same thing for a while.”

Instead of saying anything else, you lean forward, eyes closing. The feeling of Changbin’s lips on yours could only be described as soft. He wasn’t too hard, perhaps afraid you would break into a thousand specs, blending in with the stars surrounding you. While you did feel like you could do that, Changbin’s hand on your back and the prickly feeling of the hair on the back of his neck grounded you into reality.

Yeah, you were kissing Seo Changbin, the same guy that you didn’t want to associate with at all after learning he would also be staying behind for break. The same guy that got too excited talking about plants and had always kept his hand clasped in yours. The same guy that gave you his scarf when you forgot yours and never once asked for it back.

You definitely had no intention of giving it back now. 

Changbin tilted his head, his hand leaving yours and joining his other one on your back. Your free hand also coming up to settle on his neck, thumb tracing a vein that told you his heartbeat was pounding.

It was effortless, kissing Changbin, and you found yourself thinking that it could definitely become a habit. He was like a drug, pulling you into a sense of euphoria and relaxation that had your knees buckling. All of your senses molded into one and you weren’t sure where you started and Changbin ended, or whether you two had just slowly combined to create one bright star to join the infinite others out there.

All you knew was that Seo Changbin was there, he was kissing you, and you could spend the rest of your life stuck in his embrace and you would be the happiest person in the universe.

When you finally pulled back from the kiss, you were met with Changbin’s sparkling eyes, smile stretching from ear to ear. His cheeks were slowly gaining color, his eyes never leaving yours and you were entranced. Leaning forward you left another soft peck on his lips, a small giggle directed at the ground when you rested your forehead on his shoulder. 

“Wow.” You said for the second time.

“I know.” Changbin’s thumbs pressed a little harder into your back, palms smoothing out over your muscles and pulling you closer to him if that was even possible at that point. “So,” He started, hands now moved to your waist and the warmth you had always felt when you were around him surrounded and filled every inch of you. “Where do we go from here?”

Where do you go from there? Surely you wanted to be with him, even if you had sworn off dating in favor of studying. You could have both, right? You would force yourself to have both if it meant having Changbin with you.

“Well,” Your hands moved to Changbin’s hair, softly pulling and stroking any inch of skin you could reach. “I like you, a lot.”

“Duh.” Changbin countered, laughing when you smacked his shoulder lightly. “Okay, okay. I like you a lot too.” Although his laugh had dissipated, the gentle smile still remained.

“Do you think we could make this, like, official?” Your voice stuttered a bit, and you weren’t sure how to ask, you had only been asked out once and that was to the Yule Ball.

“You want me to be your boyfriend?” A smirk played on Changbin’s face, his shoulder ready to take another hit but you just nodded, the yellow fabric of his scarf brushing against your hand as you played with a loose string.

“As long as you want to be my boyfriend.”

“Of course I do.” Instead of saying anything else, Changbin sealed his statement with a kiss, his lips cold after being separated from yours for so long. 

After you pulled away a long yawn ripped through you, the darkness of the night pulling at your eyelids and wanting you to join so many other people in dream land. It all felt like a dream, though, and you were convinced that when you laid down to go to sleep that you would just wake up. 

“We should get some sleep.” Changbin said, pulling out his wand and tapping your necklace twice, watching as the stars all got sucked back into the dark orb. “There’s only a week left until break ends.”

You let a pout fall onto your face, not wanting to go back to classes and the bombardment of students. You just wanted to spend all the time you could with Changbin before you were forced to sit at different tables and only see each other at certain times. 

“Okay. I guess we should.” You agreed, however, knowing that although you were the Ravenclaw, Changbin sounded much more logical at that moment.

Your head stayed on Changbin’s shoulder as you walked back to your Common Room, your hand still grasped tightly in his. Occasionally you leaned just a little bit closer, pecking the corner of his mouth or his cheek or his neck, whatever you could reach. When you did that, Changbin would turn his head towards you, letting you land a kiss on where you wanted to land one the most, his lips.

“Oh look at them!” One of the pictures whispered as you walked by, and you watched as they all followed your movements, soft whispers being exchanged. You ignored them, just wanting to stay with your hand in Changbin’s and his warmth surrounding you.

As soon as you arrived at your Common Room you pulled apart, though Changbin’s hands just wandered to your waist as you solved the riddle, listening to the click of the lock opening for you. When you turned around Changbin’s lips were on yours, a soft hum coming from his throat. You were content with just staying like that, but paintings eventually gossiped, and you definitely didn’t want the professors finding out what you were up to during break.

“I’ll see you tomorrow, yeah?” The hands on your waist were distracting, but you kept thinking that the faster you went to sleep the quicker you could see him in the morning again.

“Yeah, tomorrow.” Changbin confirmed, not making any move to leave. His hands stayed in place, fingers tapping lightly. “Hey, Y/N?” After a few moments of silence he called your name, stepping a little bit closer to you and the warmth started to intensify. When you made a noise in response, you saw his eyes flick to your lips. “Can I kiss you again?”

“Of course, Binnie. You don’t have to ask.” Chucking you walked up in front of him, waiting for him to lean in and give you what you knew you both wanted, but he didn’t. You opened your eyes, shooting him a confused look, eyebrows raised when you saw his mouth gaped open. “Are you okay?”

His cheeks lit up almost red and you found it cute that he was still shy. “You, uh, you called me Binnie.” A small smile appeared on his face, nose scrunched up slightly and before you could ask any other questions, like if it was okay that you called him that, he continued. “I mean, I like it, that nickname. It’s cute.” He elaborated, quickly leaning forward and landing a kiss on your awaiting lips. It was quick, quicker than you had wanted it to be but it was already dark and you knew how bad you got when you didn’t get enough sleep, so you relented.

“Well, you’re cute.” You laughed when Changbin rolled his eyes, turning around and proceeding to start to walk away.

He didn’t get far though before he turned back to you, “Good night, baby.”

Then it was your turn for your face to heat up, a soft, “good night” following him as he walked away. You waited until he was fully gone to shut the door, a small squeal leaving you. Jumping up and down you ran to your room, launching yourself onto the bed and burying yourself beneath the covers.

“Oh my god that actually happened.” You whispered to yourself after getting comfortable in bed. The comforter was enough to keep you warm from the winter outside, but you noticed nothing could compare to the warmth that covered you from head to toe when you were near Changbin.

As sleep took over, a smile fell on your face when you thought about Changbin and his messy hair and soft lips and dorky demeanor and how you couldn’t believe that he actually felt the same.

viii.

The next few days were filled with what you normally did: studying. Unlike the other times, however, you were much more cuddly with Changbin. Laying on one of the couches in the library, you would curl into a ball on his lap, the book open as you lazily read aloud. Changbin’s hand never left your back, fingers massaging your muscles, the occasional kiss being pressed to your forehead or cheek.

It was the last day of break. Tomorrow everyone would file in, the noise overwhelmingly different to the silence as you walked through the halls. It was bittersweet, you wanted your friends to come back and classes to start again, but after having been by Changbin’s side for almost the whole break, you didn’t want to go back.

You met Changbin in the Great Hall, smiling when you saw your chair moved again to be right next to his. The Christmas tree was still up, though you knew it would start to get taken down later that day. The fairies looked down at you two with a glint in their eyes. 

“Good morning, Binnie.” Sliding into the chair, you looked over at Changbin. His hair was still messy from sleep, cheeks just the slightest bit pink from where it had been pressed into the pillow. He gave you a sleepy grin, puckering his lips and waiting for you to catch on. You leaned forward, pressing a quick kiss to his lips. A loud squeal came from the tree, the fairies whispering in an annoyingly shrill almost silent voice.

“Morning, baby.” Changbin responded, fingers playing with the edge of your scarf, noticing that it was still the yellow one that he had given you the first day you met. “Have I told you how much I like seeing you wear this?”

“No, but at least I know now.” Although the scarf covered the chain of your necklace, you could still see the glint of the dark orb resting right underneath the yellow fabric. You could still smell his distinct odor of cinnamon and pine needles, a scent that you had come to associate with the warmth that spread through you, but it was fading. “You’re going to have to take it back soon.” You said as your plate of breakfast waited in front of you.

Changbin was already eating, his cheeks full of pancakes and he turned to you, mouth almost dropped open and food almost spilling out. He took a moment to chew and swallow before frowning. “Why?”

“It’s starting to not smell like you anymore.” You said nonchalantly, picking apart your pancake and beginning to eat. A soft chuckle came from next to you, and before you could turn your head to question why he laughed, his lips connected with your cheek.

“You’re cute, baby.” Was all he said, going back to eating and you eventually followed, a smile and shake of your head preceding it.

After you had finished eating, you found yourself in the same place as the previous few days, strolling back into the library, one of your hands gripped tightly in Changbin’s and the other holding onto a History book that you found stuffed in one of your drawers. How it got there, you would never know, but you knew when you were done skimming it and eventually snapping it shut when you got tired of the boring history terms that it would go right back to where you found it. 

You set the book on the table, letting go of Changbin’s hand and walking down the aisles in search of another book, one that had been recommended by the Divination teacher to help with her class. Having been in the library almost every day for the last three weeks, you knew where more things were, but this one you couldn’t get your hands on. Surely it was there, your teacher wouldn’t recommend it if she knew it wasn’t.

Your search was interrupted by a pair of arms wrapping around you, warm breath making you shiver. “Hey.” Changbin said simply, pulling you back into him. “It’s cold without you.” You could feel the pout through his voice, and you turned around in his embrace.

“I was just looking for this Divination book, but I can’t find it. I think it disappeared.” You looked up the aisle, trying to remember where it could be but coming up blank.

“The OWL for Divination is easy, all you have to do is look in the bottom of a cup and tell her what you see.” Changbin explained, and he wasn’t wrong, your teacher did say there was no wrong answers, so surely everyone would pass, but you couldn’t help to feel like somehow you would see something wrong or that by some sort of cruel stroke of misfortune she would fail you. 

“Besides, you’re too smart to worry about failing, you’ll probably get the top score in everything.” Changbin closed the small distance between you, his lips connecting with your forehead. In turn, you closed your eyes, smiling at the feeling of his thumbs pressing small circles into your back and cool breath fanning over your face. “If anything,” he started as he pulled away, “I need you to tutor me.” 

“I guess I can do that.” You wriggled out of Changbin’s grasp, walking back to the couch and grabbing the book you had set there earlier. Changbin closely followed, sitting on the couch and holding out his arms for you to fit into. 

You sat with your back resting on the arm of the couch, Changbin’s legs comfortably underneath you and his arms snaked around you. The book sat on your legs, one of his hands coming to play with the pages when he saw fit. Instead of exchanging any other words, you started reading a chapter, trying not to let your face heat up when you looked up to see Changbin’s eyes trained on you. 

It wasn’t like he had much else to look at, it was just snow and trees outside and the endless rows of books inside, but it was more of the look he had rather than the fact that he was looking at you. A soft grin stretched his lips, tilting up at one side. His eyes shifted from your eyes to your necklace - that you had yet to take off - and eventually settling on your lips. 

“Penny for your thoughts?” You asked quietly, watching as his cheeks began to gain a bit more color to them. 

“You’re just really pretty.” He shrugged, eyes falling down to the book in your lap. Instead of trying to read sideways, he resorted to tracing the lines of the map at the top of the page.

“I think you’re pretty too, Binnie.” Your lips found his nose, chuckling when his face turned into a deeper red. “But we really should try and get some studying in, there’s only one more day left of break.”

His face morphed into a deep frown, eyebrows tugging into the center of his face. You knew what he was thinking, and you mirrored the same sentiment. After everyone came back you would be forced to sit at your house tables, looking at each other across the Great Hall and wishing you were able to slide in the seat next to him. Reading his mind, you raised your hand up to his cheek, your thumb tracing his cheekbone. His skin was still warm underneath your fingers.

“I don’t want break to end.” Changbin’s frown turned into a pout, head tilting forward to rest on your shoulder.

“I don’t either but it’s not like we won’t ever see each other again.” Your hand moved from his cheek to his hair, smoothing down strands that had stuck up into the air. 

“I know.” He sat back up, the pout still deeply etched onto his face. “I’m gonna miss just us being here, though. We’ve only had a week alone to be cute and coupley.” You laughed at that, and his pout only stuck out more. “It’s not funny.” He dragged out the last syllable.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry. You’re just cute.” You countered, looking back down at the book in your lap. “We’ll still be able to be ‘cute’ and ‘coupley’, don’t worry. I think we should get back to studying though, how about we have a quiz?” You suggested, flicking through the book until you got to a section you had read to him before. 

So you read a section out loud again, watching out of the corner of your eye as Changbin looked up at the air, mouthing what you could only assume was dates and names to try and remember them. As soon as you finished the passage you turned your attention to Changbin, finding him still peering into the ceiling.

“What happened to the classes at Hogwarts in 1965?” You asked, knowing that you just went through it.

Changbin thought for a moment, his fingers drumming on your waist in an attempt to come up with an answer. “Oh!” His eyes lit up, a smile on his face as he turned to you. “The roof fell through from the heavy snowfall and so classes were canceled for a while to fix it.” 

You nodded, leaning forward and pressing a quick kiss to his lips, his reward for getting the question right. You continued on with your questioning, rewarding him with a kiss every time he got one right. 

Eventually he began to drift off, his head bobbing up and down as he tried to think of an answer but instead was met with a soft tap to the forehead and you telling him to “wake up”. It wasn’t until the fourth time of falling asleep and being woken up by you that he gave up.

“Fuck it.” He said, tapping your back in a signal for you to get off his lap for just a moment. Changbin turned so his head was resting against the arm of the couch, grabbing a pillow and pulling it so it cushioned his head. Falling back, he nestled into the couch with a sigh. Before his eyes closed fully, however, his arms raised, hands making a grabby motion and you knew you weren’t going to convince him to study anymore so you relented.

Setting the book on the table, you walked forward and squeaked when Changbin’s hands immediately grabbed your waist, pulling you down quickly. A grunt was released when your head hit his chest, the sound of his heartbeat the only thing you could hear besides your breath. He was comfortable, just the right amount of hard muscle and plush skin and you melted into his embrace. 

“Let’s just take a nap.” Changbin suggested from above you, his chin resting on the top of your head, although it was more of a statement than a suggestion. His voice vibrated through his body and you could feel instead of hear his voice.

You didn’t reply, instead opting for snuggling closer into him, the edges of your robe draping over you and creating a makeshift blanket. Though you didn’t need much else to warm you, as Changbin’s body heat was enough to make you feel warmth from your head to feet. His hands settled on your back, thumbs massaging your tense muscles gently. The pressure seemed to let off eventually, and you looked up to see he was fast asleep, mouth slightly open and eyes closed. You weren’t sure how long you had laid there, but it wasn’t long until you were following Changbin into dreamland.

“Baby.” You were awoken by Changbin’s voice in your ear, his hands going back to their normal place of tracing shapes on your back. His heartbeat beneath your ear was soniferous, causing your eyes to stay closed and for you to almost fall back into slumber. That was, until he said your name a little louder, his hands shaking your body that was lying fully on top of his. “Y/N, it’s time to get up, baby.”

“Don’t wanna.” Your voice was distorted due to your cheek being pressed into the junction between his neck and shoulder. During your sleep you nuzzled even closer to Changbin, your nose pressed against his neck and lips close to his collarbone. You pressed a quick kiss there, a lazy smile floating up when the boy below you squirmed. “You’re comfy.” Going back to your previous position, you tried to ignore all other tries to get you to wake up, only wanting to be cuddled closer and to fall back asleep.

“It’s nighttime and although there isn’t anybody here, I’m sure some of the ghosts will do patrols.” Changbin spoke softly, “And I don’t want us to get in trouble the first day after break.”

Although you really couldn’t have cared less about the ghosts, they rarely walked through the library anyways, some citing memories from their deaths in the history books and others just not bothering because who would be in the library this late, you lifted your head. You were met with pink cheeks, hooded eyelids and a seemingly drunken smile.

“Did you just wake up too?” Your voice came out more stable that time, yet you still felt the small hands of the sandman trying to tempt you again. When Changbin nodded you stayed silent, just admiring the boy laid out in front of you. One of your hands rested on his chest to keep you upright and you pushed yourself forward to kiss both of his cheeks. 

“We should head back to our dorms, I don’t wanna get caught, especially not by the Fat Friar or the Grey Lady.” Changbin moved his hands from your back to your waist, helping you in sitting up on the couch. He, in turn, tucked his legs under you and stood up. “I’ll help you back if you want?”

Sleep sounded nice, but sleeping while also cuddled into Changbin sounded even better. So you shook your head, hand sliding down Changbin’s arm to find his hand, not needing vision to fit your fingers together perfectly. “No,” You stood up, squeezing his hand slightly. “I want to stay with you.”

Changbin’s cheeks bloomed red again, a shy smile and quick ruffle of his hair coming and going before he looked back up to you. “Okay, okay. Do you want to sleep in my Common Room or yours?” The fact that he was willing to risk getting in trouble for you had your heart clenching.

“I’ve always wanted to see what the Hufflepuff Common Room looked like.” You said with a smile, almost jumping for joy when he began walking in the direction of his Common Room.

You swung your connected hands between you, an excited skip in your step knowing that you wouldn’t have to cocoon yourself in your blanket to keep warm. The thought came though, that you wouldn’t be able to do that when break ended, and a frown etched itself into your face. The frown stayed there until you got to the door to the Common Room, when your lips straightened into a line.

Changbin looked over at you, hand immediately finding some switch behind a barrel that sat next to the door. You knew there was some sort of code or button or something to get into the room, Seungmin had told you a story of his first time trying to find it, but you didn’t know it was there. A smile was quickly flashed to him as you tried to not let him know what you were thinking.

As soon as the door opened, however, you forgot everything you had been thinking about, a loud gasp leaving your lips. 

You hadn’t ever seen the Hufflepuff Common Room, just getting a picture in your head from what Seungmin had described it as, but wow, did it look way better than anything Seungmin could have said. 

It had a low ceiling made of what looked like oak wood, with a simple chandelier hanging directly in the middle. The light from said chandelier reached every nook and cranny in the room, making everything bright and giving you a rush of energy. You understood why Hufflepuffs always seemed to be smiling. Scattered throughout the room were comfy looking chairs and couches, though there was a small circle of furniture around the fireplace, which was always slowly burning. 

The whole room was shrouded in a light yellow color, from the rounded walls to the fabric of the furniture. A soft orange spilled from the fireplace area, and you were immediately drawn to it, like a moth to a flame. 

“Woah.” You were still observing everything around you as Changbin led you to one of the couches by the fire. Small potted plants sat on tables along with small stacks of books. It was unusual that they had plants in the Common Room but weren’t allowed any in their private rooms, and you were glad you got Changbin the plant globe so he could have them by his bedside.

“It’s not much, but it’s comfy.” Changbin shrugged, sitting down in the middle of the muted yellow couch, pulling you down so you sat on his lap.

“What do you mean?” You continued looking around, seeing the thick layer of snow outside the windows. “It’s so relaxing to sit in here, I could fall asleep right away.”

“Well let’s do that then.” The hand that was clasped in yours let go, moving you so you laid in the same position as in the library. The couch you were laying on was much larger than the previous one, with much softer looking pillows. Not that you needed a pillow, you had Changbin who was like your own personal firm but soft pillow.

After a little bit of moving you settled with your nose pressed back into the column of Changbin’s neck, one of your hands sitting on his chest. As you laid there, you traced small shapes into his skin, chuckling when he started to shake. “I’m ticklish.” He had stated as an excuse, but you continued the small touches, only scaling back slightly because the feeling of his muscles under his shirt was comforting, more so than the color of the room or the lighting hitting the walls.

“Goodnight, baby.” was the last thing you heard before you let yourself fall into sleep once again.

viiii.

You woke up to the sounds of furniture being moved. It was extremely loud, echoing through the soon to be full hallways and traveling out into the snow. Instead of jumping up and exploring the noise, you settled in Changbin’s arms, not wanting to get up and face the reality of the day.

His hands were loosely resting on your hips, no longer adding pressure or drawing invisible pictures. You could feel his chest raising and lowering with each deep breath he took. When you lifted your head up you noticed the same pink tint to his cheeks and you kissed each of them, trying hard not to wake him up just yet. 

The noise continued on, and you decided to get up, your eyes already ridding themselves of the Sandman’s dust and your mind already ready to start the day that you had been dreading since the beginning of break: the end of break. 

You slowly lifted yourself off of Changbin, putting your hands on either side of his waist and swinging your feet to the floor. Luckily the carpet swallowed most of the noise of your footsteps as you walked out of the room. You thought about what would happen when Changbin woke up and you weren’t there, but you also knew that he would know where to find you.

The walk to the Great Hall seemed longer than any other time you’ve had to do it, and you looked on at the paintings, some of them not in their frames and others posed perfectly in anticipation for everyone coming back to the castle. Once you got to the hard stone of the hallway floors, your footsteps echoed underneath the ongoing noise. It came to a crescendo when you reached the doors to the Great Hall, finding what you expected.

The giant Christmas tree that once stood in the middle of the room was gone, the fairies that once danced on its branches stood on the lanterns hanging from the ceiling. They held their hands up like puppet masters, and you realized they were the ones moving the long tables back into the Hall. Everything was being turned back into normal, and while you were happy to go back to the routine, you also knew you would miss being one of the only people in the castle. 

“You scared me.” A voice came from beside you, but you weren’t shocked, only a nod coming as a response. Changbin stood beside you, his arm snaking around your waist and pulling you into him. “It seems like just yesterday I saw you eating with your friends and now here we are.” His eyes never left the moving tables, but yours trailed to his face. Had he known of you for that long?

Before you could ask, however, Changbin smiled. “I’ve had a crush on you for a while.” He shrugged, looking at you. The noise had calmed down, but he still leaned closer as if he was trying to talk over it. “I just never thought you would know who I was, so I kinda gave up.”

The scraping of the tables on the wood floor stopped, and you looked to see everything settled into place, just as it was before. You walked towards the Ravenclaw table, feeling Changbin’s presence next to you as you sat down.

“Well here we are now.” You said simply, leaning your head on your hand and peering sideways at Changbin. 

“Yep, here we are now.” Changbin stared at the Hufflepuff table in front of him. “So,” he started, not switching his focus from the table. “Are you okay if my friends know about us? You don’t have to meet them right away, they tend to come pretty late back from break anyways.”

The statement was kind of obvious, you noted. There was no reason for you to hide your relationship, if anything, your friends would be ecstatic to see you had met, and gotten very acquainted with, Changbin. Especially Jisung. Okay, maybe Jisung could be in the dark for a little bit. You weren’t ready to say he was right.

“Of course, I don’t think there’s any reason to hide it, do you?” The hand on your waist squeezed softly, almost in reassurance. “As long as you’re okay with my friends knowing? I mean, one of them is a Hufflepuff, you might know him, and the other two are very,” You paused, trying to find the right word to describe Luna and Jisung, “interesting.” 

“Of course, I want them to know about us. My friends are all Gryffindors, three of them. One was my lab partner in Potions, he’s two years younger than me, and then another one is a year younger and the other is a year older.” Changbin counted off his friends, not giving much detail except what year they were in.

“That’s an interesting combination.” You chuckled, trying to think of any Gryffindors you knew of. Having nothing come to mind, you gave up, knowing you would see them soon. “There’s not much more time left until everyone arrives.” There was a sad note to your voice.

“Penny for your thoughts?” Changbin smiled as he asked it, his full face now on display as he turned his body to face yours. Instead of responding, you just leaned forward, connecting your lips and letting them rest there for a moment. Changbin was taken aback, a soft, “okay” mumbled against your lips before he kissed back. The hand that wasn’t on your waist was cupping your cheek, while your two hands rested on his shoulders, thumbs pressing into his collarbones. 

Your lips moved together in sync for who knows how long. Time didn’t matter when you were near Changbin, all that mattered was that he was there and that hopefully he would be there for a long time. You lost yourself in him, only focusing on the soft cotton of his robe underneath your fingers, the smooth glide of his lips on yours, and the way your skin heated up where he was touching you. 

The sound of a train horn made you pull away, your face hot and you were sure you mimicked Changbin’s red cheeks. You smiled at him, letting your fingers trail to the back of his neck and play with the short hairs at the nape. Landing one last kiss on the tip of his nose, you turned to the door, watching as some students already started piling in and sitting at their house table. 

You heard Jisung before you even saw him, his loud voice talking about something you couldn’t quite distinguish, but you knew it was him. Then you saw his hair, now a light blond, walking along with blue hair, Luna. Standing up, you grabbed Changbin’s hand, giving it a light squeeze and preparing yourself for the bombardment of hugs and questions you would get.

“Y/N!” The loud scream came from Jisung, startling the still small amount of students in the Hall. He came running up to you, causing you to let go of Changbin’s hand and use both of yours to brace yourself for the body crashing into you. 

It doesn’t mean you were ready for the body crashing into you, though. Almost falling over, you wrapped your arms around Jisung, a large smile making your cheeks hurt. There weren’t any words being exchanged, except for nearly silent “hello”s as Luna also came up behind Jisung and joined in on the hug. 

When Jisung pulled away, his eyes trailed from your face to Changbin standing next to you, his hand hovering over the small of your back. You said nothing, letting Jisung put the pieces together. You knew he figured it out when his mouth hung open.

“So now I know what you were doing instead of reading my owl messages and replying to me!” Jisung held your shoulders, shaking you slightly. “And I told you so!” He said the last part a bit louder, and you felt your face heat up. 

“Yeah, yeah, sure. You said something.” You rolled your eyes.

“I said a lot of stuff, all of which seemed to be correct by the looks of things.” Jisung stared down at Changbin’s hand on your back before following the hand to find it’s owner staring at him, a small smile on his face. “Oh, sorry I’m rude. I know you but you probably don’t know me, I’m Jisung, Y/N’s best friend and I was right about you two.”

“I’m Luna!” Luna said from behind Jisung, her hands holding her cage with her pet owl. 

“Nice to meet you guys. And you were right about what?” Changbin asked Jisung, and you whipped around to him, trying to tell him to not ask about anything Jisung said, but it was already too late.

“I found out you were staying behind along with our lovely friend here, and me, being the amazing lovebird I am, said she should have some fun instead of just spending it all studying.” Jisung explained, clapping at himself and you shook your head laughing. Luna came up behind Jisung, nodding along to everything he said.

“I think the only reason why we’re dating is because you weren’t here to be my wingman anymore.” You jabbed his side with your elbow. “Can we sit down? You guys look tired from the train ride.”

Jisung and Luna nodded, turning around to walk to the other side of the table. While they did that you turned to Changbin, face heating up when you saw he was smiling at you. “You talked about me before we met?”

“Don’t get so flattered, Jisung was exaggerating just a little bit.” You pouted, sitting down and leaning into his side.

“Even if he was exaggerating, I think it’s cute.” Changbin commented, kissing your temple and watching Jisung and Luna weave through students, now followed by Seungmin with very messy hair and an annoyed look on his face. “We can meet my friends later if you want.”

“Sure, that sounds good.” Your head stayed on Changbin’s shoulder as your friends finally sat in front of you. No one said anything at first, but the expressions on their faces told all. Jisung, of course, had a very I told you so face on, one eyebrow raised and a smirk playing on his lips. Luna was looking between you and Changbin and smiling, while Seungmin’s mouth hung open at the sight of the boy sitting next to you. “What happened to you?” You questioned Seungmin, watching as his face turned from one of surprise to one of annoyance.

“My sister’s cat decided to fall asleep on my head and then my alarm didn’t go off so I didn’t have time to fix my messed up hair before I had to catch the train.” Seungmin shook his head, trying desperately with his hands to smooth down his hair before giving up with a huff.

“Just use a spell.” Luna shrugged, running a hand through her blue hair. As she did so, the colors seemed to change slightly, and you realized she must have used a new magic dye to turn her hair even more colors under different lights. 

“It’s okay, we don’t go back to classes until tomorrow so I can just take a shower when I get back to the Common Room.” Seungmin shrugged, waiting a moment before directing his attention to Changbin. “So, I’m assuming you two are a thing?”

Changbin just nodded, the arm around your waist tightening while you just scooted closer to him. “Yeah, she couldn’t resist my Hufflepuff charms.” Your arm came around to lightly smack his stomach, all of your friends laughing as you rolled your eyes.

“Yeah I couldn’t resist the plant nerd.” You patted his stomach where you hit him just seconds earlier. All your friends laughed again, and you felt a soft vibration of Changbin chuckling as well. You were so glad your friends liked him and got along with him, and you were glad that you had decided to give him a chance.

You looked up at Changbin, finding his nose scrunched up in a fake pout and you gave him a quick peck on the cheek to try and satiate him. When you pulled away you saw Jisung push his palms into his cheeks, a loud “awe” sounding throughout the room as he looked between you. Although your cheeks lit up, you stuck your tongue out at Jisung. “You’re just mad I didn’t need you as my wingman.”

“If I was your wingman you two would have been together for a year by now.” Jisung dodged your hand coming across the table, holding his hands up in fake defeat. “Well you are very cute together, like I said before break but of course some people just don’t appreciate genius.” He shook his head, looking down at his hands and then leaning back to pet his owl in its cage. 

You decided not to argue anymore, instead just listening to your friends tell their stories of Christmas spent with family. Changbin’s hand stayed firmly on your waist, his cheek resting on your shoulder. Sometimes he would interject with a statement or a joke and you smiled at how perfect he fit into the group. 

The warmth that you noticed at the beginning of the break when you first saw Changbin was still there, but instead of a burning heat it was a comforting warmth that filled your whole body to the tips of your fingers and toes. It was like you didn’t have to worry about being cold ever again when Changbin was around, even if you weren’t touching him, just him looking at you made you begin to heat up. 

You could have almost fallen asleep there at the table with your head resting on your hand, but you fought against it, trying to stay active in the conversation while also enjoying just being close to him until you had to eventually separate and go to your own Common Rooms.

You knew when you got back to your Common Room that Jisung and Luna would bombard you with questions, and you were happy to answer them. Through the break you had the best time ever, and you were going to have to thank Jisung for telling you that you should have fun, because that’s exactly what you did, and in the process you found someone that made you feel a comfortable warmth that you couldn’t describe but you loved. 

“Penny for your thoughts?” Changbin whispered in your ear while Jisung and Seungmin argued over some sort of history fact.

Looking up at him, you smiled, fighting the urge to press your lips to his again and again. Instead, a simple answer came to mind, and you spoke just as softly as he did, not wanting anyone else to hear. It was what you were thinking about since you met Changbin, and every day since then. It was what you thought in the morning and at night and every second in between. It was a simple answer, but you knew it would get the message across.

“You.”

#stray kids #m.writing #stray kids imagines #skzwriters #stray kids scenarios #stray kids oneshot #seo changbin #changbin #changbin imagines #seo changbin imagine #skz imagines #skz scenarios #this was actually so fun to write !!! #enjoy :D #and its sooo long i apologize i hope you all like it tho !!! 🙇🏻‍♀️😔

[letbenfuck2021]

inside your head the sound of glass by soitgoes/fiveyavibecheck

So he’ll ruin her. To make her stay, he’ll break her down until she’s just as trapped as he is.

rating. explicit. warnings. incest/pseudo-incest, dark fic, dead dove: do not eat, dub-con written for fiveya week 2019. prompt: jealousy. ao3 link

Five is jealous. There’s no getting around it. 

He’s been stewing on the leather upholstered arm chair in the hotel’s lobby for fifteen minutes now while his siblings chatter excitedly among themselves blissfully ignorant of Five's plight. Ben, whom Five often regarded as his most intuitive sibling, is the only one who took notice of his anguish. He turns his attention from Allison, who has been explaining a meticulously planned attack on every worthy boutique in a fifteen mile radius, to give Five a concerned look. Five just glowers at his brother before sinking further into his seat.

He really shouldn't fault them for their elation. Just moments ago, Pogo informed them that they’ve all been allotted a few hours of free time. A reward on behalf of their father for a job well done. It makes them feel victorious in a way that completing a mission hasn't felt in a while.

The Paris job had been nearly flawless, no in-fighting or drama, minimal property damage. It had certainly impressed Reginald enough to grant them something as coveted and rare as unsupervised time. And all this was due in no small part to Five’s own efforts.

For years now, he’s played the part of lodestone, the linchpin in the failing mechanism that is the Umbrella Academy. No one wants to say it out loud but they can all feel how precarious their reality is. None of them want to talk about what happened in Philadelphia last year. No one wants to talk about the pale, jagged scar across Diego’s temple or Klaus’ crooked ring finger or how Ben now walks with the smallest limp, favoring his right side. But this isn’t Philadelphia and there are no scars in the making or broken bones, at least not on the Academy’s part. No, these past five days have been nearly perfect, a throwback to the glory days.

He looks around at their faces and notices that his siblings aren't just victorious or satisfied, they are  happy. And he can't even be happy for them. Instead, at the sight of their cheery banter and open smiles, all he can feel is envy that as they all prepare to set out and enjoy their morning and afternoon freely, blissfully he is left bogged down by an affliction that has a first and last name.

Five stands abruptly with enough force to send his seat screeching back a little ways. This time, all of his siblings stop to stare at him. Both Ben and Klaus seem concerned, Diego a little irritated, and Luther only stared blankly at him. Philadelphia had changed Luther most of all. The three mechanical fingers on his left hand flex ever so slightly but his expression remains cool. He almost feels sorry for his brother. It wasn't just his fingers Number One lost. It isn't until his eyes land on Number Three that any kind sympathy drained into cold, hard resentment. At least she had the decency to look sorry.

After a second, Five waved them off and left them to find Pogo. It's been years since she'd saddled him with a ball and chain with her Rumor but Five has yet to forgive her. Not that they all hadn't used their powers on each other at some point. During training, for pranks, to showboat, even just out of boredom, but what Allison did to him five years ago had changed the course of his life forever.

It's a cruel sort of irony that he, of all people, should be saddled with a ball and chain. By all laws of the universe, Five should be well on his way to the top of the world. He’s the son of one of the richest men in the world, a literal genius who can bend space and time and yet he's stuck playing cops and robbers all because of one particular phrase produced by one particular mouth.

  I heard a rumor…

In a way, it’s Five’s own fault that he’s landed himself in his current predicament. He’s always had a little bit of a rebellious streak. Blame his intellect paired with a curious nature and taste for the mischievous, but he's never been able to accept at face value the vague, foreboding explanations which seem to be the only kind that Sir Reginald knows how to give. So whether it be because of incessant questioning or outright disobedience by age thirteen, Five became such a destructive force on the team that he had nearly, single handedly dismantled the whole team.

He agitates the rivalry between Diego and Luther, indulges Klaus’ vices. As if this wasn’t bad enough, Five would constantly undermine Reginald’s authority. Whether it be on missions or during their school lessons, Five seemed to simply be incapable of behaving. Worst of all, he dared to interact, in fact seek out the company of the academy’s resident pariah, their  other  sister. Number Seven.  Vanya .

Five finds Pogo in the hotel’s smoking room. The old chimp had made himself at home with a cup of coffee, still steaming, and a newspaper pulled up in front of his face.

"I have to call home,” Five declares with a scowl.

He’s never been a fan of cigarettes, Five found it to be a nasty habit, so he finds it incredibly irritating that Pogo always seems to hole himself up in one whenever the team is granted the luxury of staying in a place swanky enough to have one. Doubly so, seeing as Pogo did not smoke.

Pogo’s fingers make deft work of folding his newspaper down so he can look over at his young charge and he frowns at the sight. Pogo had known Number Five all his life. There had been a time when Five had shone brightest among his siblings. Intelligent, inquiring, Pogo had hoped that at least he would be able to escape Reginald’s grasp but as it turned out, his master’s reach was far longer and more sinister than any of them could have imagined.

“Number Five! Shouldn’t you be planning out your day like the rest of your sib-”

Five cuts him off.

“I didn’t come here for pleasantries, Pogo. Just give me the card.”

Pogo pauses a moment and takes a good hard look at the young man before him. This fall, he and his siblings will be eighteen, legally free of their father’s hold but in all other ways completely trapped. To anyone else, Number Five must seem a handsome and driven young man. In press conferences, he was amicable and charming enough to be approachable but he was also careful to cultivate an air of respectability as well. Though Luther still held the position of Number One, Pogo, and the old chimp suspected everyone else, knew that it was Five who pulled the strings on this team. But looking at Five now, he saw not the intriguing young man or even the iron-fisted leader that the public and his siblings saw. Pogo only saw a sad young man marred by his affliction.

“You can save the pitying looks, old man,” Five practically growls. “Give. Me. The card.”

He grinds out the last words from between his gritted teeth. His eyes shine a little, bright blue and burning with a frenzy that is not unlike the look Pogo had seen in Klaus’ eyes after spending a few days locked down in some dungeon beneath the mansion. His were the eyes of a man who had been denied his fix for too long. Six days without it had left Five brittle and Pogo had learned better than to bait him in this state. So he quickly fishes the telephone card from inside his vest pocket and hands it over. Without so much as a word of thanks, Five snatches it from his hand and leaves.

Five thinks that it must have been his attachment to Vanya that finally tipped their father over the edge, either that or Reginald realized that it was something he could use. Even before Allison rumored him, Five had always been fond of Vanya. Partly because he knew it pissed his father off but more so because she was so completely separated from the bullshit and melodrama that came with being part of the illustrious Umbrella Academy. At first, it truly had been a passing fancy to seek out Vanya’s company. He was curious about the sibling that he and the rest had been separated from since they were four. He had expected her to be dull. Plain little Number Seven had no powers, no special abilities. As their father had driven into their heads for as long as he could remember, Number Seven was not like them, she was ordinary and they all insinuated that this meant she was worthy of nothing more than their scorn and occasionally their pity. But when he actually started speaking and spending time with her Five was delighted to find that she was a wealth of entertainment. She’s easy to tease and unlike their other siblings who had been trained to be as ruthless and barbed to attack, Vanya reacts usually with a shy blush or a stuttering reply that often results in her turning her face to the floor and scurrying away. It’s fun. It’s like having a new toy to take apart, to understand, and to ultimately put back together again.

Ultimately, Five finds that Vanya is a perfectly good way to pass the time. It isn’t until the first time things go bad on a mission, bad enough to send all of them reeling to the brink, that Five realizes just how much he needed Vanya. It’s a relief to be with her. The reality she populated was not pitious like he had been taught to believe but was envious. The world she lived in wasn’t awash with blood and violence. He knows that she hates her plainness, her mundanity but it's a blessing to Five. It's like air, like something precious. She is free in a way that none of the others ever would be. Or at least, she had been.

It takes him very little time to find the international phone booths. Somehow, they're always in the same place in the lavish, extravagant hotels that Reginald likes them to hold press conferences in. Though, he only does this once their missions are complete. Despite being the children of a billionaire, none of the Hargreeves children had ever seen the inside of these lavish rooms to do much more than shower and prepare for the reporters..

He moves as quickly as possible though the steps needed to place an international call. It’s tedious but he never hesitates to do it. Once the operator puts him through, he hears a dial tone and after a single ring, Grace picks up. She's pleasant as always and attempts to carry on that uniquely odd version of small talk that's been programmed into her system but Five has no time for it and makes his demand quickly and curtly. There's a tense pause, before she responds with a placid, of course dear.

He knows that Grace is looking to his father to grant permission. There’s no doubt in his mind that the old coot had been waiting for him. Five moves like clockwork now, he does the old man’s dirty work and immediately comes crawling for his fix. Five knows also that a call had already been made home informing Reginald of their success and Five's instrumental role in it. The silence as he waits seems to stretch on forever until there is a small sound of a receiver being lifted from its cradle. It's so soft and small that most people probably never take notice of it. But it's nearly pavlovian for Five, already his blood is pounding in his ears and when her small, thin voice dribbles over the line, he can barely breathe.

"Five?" she mumbles, her voice scratching with sleep.

"Hey, did I wake you?" his voice sounds almost as hoarse as hers.

Five doesn't know why he asks. He'd already known he would wake her. It's 10 am in Paris but it's only 4 back home. It's a silly question and like most of his irrational behaviors, Five chocks his irrationality up to his  condition.  

Vanya hums a disgruntled confirmation of his assumption. For a moment he allows himself to imagine her standing in their father's still-dark house. She's probably using the phone near the staircase that leads up to their rooms. She'd still be in her pajamas, cheeks a little flushed, hair still tousled from sleep. Just envisioning her helps to soothe the aching emptiness within him. It's both a relief and a bitter pill to swallow that she has such an effect on him.

It hadn't always been this way between them. Though Five had always held a greater fondness for Vanya than their other siblings, it wasn't ever like how it is now. Just the sound of her voice causes him to feel lighter, more at ease. It's a need, a compulsion to be near her, to hear her, feel her. It's like a drug and when she sleepily says his name, confused by his sudden silence, he can understand Klaus' predilection for addictive substances. But there's no way for him to simply enjoy the high because it's evidence of Reginald's hold on him.

It happens when they’re fourteen. Five has a hard time remembering clearly what had happened, a particularly strange experience considering his eidetic memory. He remembers that he had convinced Vanya to sneak out with him to Griddy’s instead of attending Latin. With his abilities, sneaking out of the mansion was easy-pickings. Convincing Vanya to sneak out with him was not. He remembers kissing her in the sticky vinyl booths in front of a scandalized waitress and how her mouth tasted of sugar and coffee. He remembers sliding his hand over her left hip and the smell of yeasted donuts frying in oil. But other than that, there's a sizable gap in his memory of that day. It was a tricky side-effect of Allison’s power. He can’t even remember the exact command she gave him, only her three words and then, searing pain.

"Five?" she says sounding more awake all of a sudden, her tone is urgent. "Why are you calling, did - did something happen? Is everyon-"

He clicked his tongue in distaste.

"Everyone else is fine," he grumbled. "It's  me you should be worried about."

Five didn't want to spend their time talking about the others.

"Did something happ-oh god, Five wh-why wha-"

She's fully awake now, stuttering over the phone. Five relishes how distraught she sounds over him. He lets her panic a few seconds longer before shushing her.

"Nothing like that, V. I just miss you," he says pressing the receiver to his ear trying to hear every tiny reaction she might give him.

He hears her sigh and it sounds like she’s landed somewhere between relief and irritation. Five has become an expert at analyzing her every sound, expression, and movement.

"You can’t mess with me like that,” she scolds already sounding tired again.

Five checks his watch and trains his voice to be as pathetic as possible

"I'm not. It feels like I'm dying. I wish you were here," he croons although to any passersby, Five could have been talking about the weather for all they knew.

Her silence after he says this could go either way. It is now 4:05 am and he’s hoping that she’ll opt to stay with him a little longer.

“I have to go back to sleep, Five,” she murmurs, her voice sounds as though her throat is constricting around tears and they very well may be.

“No,” he pleads, his expression never shifting. “Stay with me a little longer, just a little, Vanya.”

Over the years since Vanya had become the unwilling planet around which his universe tilts, Five had become adept at prying out of her whatever morsel of time and attention he could. Being a Hargreeves, he had no qualms about playing dirty. Guilt was usually Vanya’s soft spot. She was especially good at being contrite.

“Five,” she seems to hesitate and Five thinks perhaps he’s won.

If all she wanted to do was breathe over the receiver for the next few hours while he sat and listened, Five would be more than happy. It was physically painful to be away from her thanks to Allison’s Rumor. His need for her hollowed him, left him ragged and gaunt. It was easier to ignore the further away he was and when he could distract himself with planning out strategic attacks, risking his and his siblings lives, but as soon as the dust settled he was left again with the vast emptiness of her absence and nothing would soothe it except her.

“I have to go to bed,” it would have been better if she’d stabbed him. “Dad scheduled me a lesson in a couple hours.”

“So just stay up. Stay with me until you have to get ready,” and finally his expression matches his tone.

The prospect of hanging the phone on the receiver, of disconnecting from her sends a shockwave of pain through him that leaves him a little winded.

“I can’t, Five. I have to be at my best. It’s a new teacher and I wanna make a good impression.”

“Va-”

“I’ll come see you as soon as you get home.”

Vanya’s learned to play their game as well.

“I promise, Five. As soon as you get home, even if dad tells me not to, I’ll come see you.”

He mulls this over. There’s no doubt that after how well he did that Reginald would not bar him from Vanya. Her offer is practically moot. He could continue his ploy, play on her guilt until she gave in but he knows that if he does Vanya is just as likely to double down as she is to fold. And although their father is unlikely to restrict his access, Vanya might.

“You  promise ,” he murmurs.

“I do, I promise, Five.”

She sounds sincere. Five had always been under the impression that Vanya was incapable of lying. And to be fair, she hardly ever did but over the years he’s found that Vanya was more than capable of duplicity when she put her mind to it.

“Fine. We get back at 6:34pm,” he hears silence. “Are you nodding?”

“Oh!” she lets out a breathy giggle and Five feels his chest tighten. “Sorry - I mean - okay, I’ll see you then.”

Her voice already sounds far away when she mumbles, “bye, Five.”

A bout of panic rolls through him and Five is suddenly overcome with the urge to beg her now to hang up. He feels the pathetic plea bubbling up in his throat. He feels on fire with the anticipation of severing this one line of connection, even as flimsy as it is. His lips are already wrapped around the syllables of her name when he hears the line go dead. He listens to the low tone until it cuts off and leaves him in the noise of the hotel lobby that’s begun to pick up as the morning goes on. When he returns to his seat in the lobby, his siblings are nowhere to be found. He sits again on the upholstered chair and leans back and imagines Vanya going back up to her room, her bare feet shifting over the floor, the rustle of sheets as she slides into bed. He wishes more than anything he could be there with her and he hates himself for it.

###

The flight home is as dull as it usually is. Despite Reginald’s stinginess when it comes to their lodgings, he sees the utility in having a private mode of international travel saving them from the horrors of commercial airline flight. As per usual, Number Two attempts to mask his anxiety about flying with aggression and rage. And it isn't until Klaus slips something in Diego’s drink that he’s compliant enough to get onto the plane. This results in Klaus attaching himself to a mostly catatonic Diego and Ben scurrying after. Allison and Luther hovel together at the back of the plane and keep to their own devices.

When they get home and pile into the foyer, the entire Umbrella Academy is exhausted but they all file into the drawing room for debriefing. It doesn’t go unnoticed by Five that Vanya is absent. Already, he is beginning to feel frantic. In his head he chants over and over,  she promised, she promised.  

Reginald is already waiting for them and though the procedure could not have taken any more than ten minutes, it feels like an eternity to Five. He can't stop himself from continually glancing at the room's entrance, hoping that the double sliding doors will open and she will emerge but she never does. His jaw is clenched so tightly that he thinks he might shatter his teeth. As soon as Reginald releases them he jumps to his room.

“Oh!” he hears as he rematerializes in his own room with practiced ease in a pop of blue.

The dimensional energy is still shifting around him when Five turns to find Vanya sitting leisurely on his bed. She looks so casual with her back against the wall and one of his books nestled on her laps between her thighs. Her ankles are crossed over one another as they dangle over the edge of his bed. Beneath her feet is his suitcase. Grace must have brought it up during their debrief.

“Five!” Vanya says as she scrambles off the bed. “Dad said you were all home but he felt it was best for me to wait up here.”

For you.  

That was the unspoken notion at the end of her words. She had been waiting for him here, as pretty as a present ready to pay their father's dues. It should make him happy to see her, elated even but he feels sour instead. A dead dial tone is still ringing in his ears.

"Well this is a surprise," he lies.

She's visibly uncomfortable, uncertain of the playing field.

"W-well I said I would come see you."

“I recall you saying ‘as soon as you get home’,” he recites easily for her.

Unconsciously, Vanya takes her left middle and ring fingers in her right hand. She squeezes both slowly, over and over. It’s a habit she’s picked up over the years. He winces at the memory of her two digits bent out of their sockets with a sickening pop.

“You still blame me for that then,” he says.

His words make her freeze mid squeeze and she drops her fingers as though she's been burned.

“I never blamed you," she says. "It wasn’t your fault.”

The words spill from her mouth easily like she’s been practicing them as much as she practices her violin. He takes a step towards her and he's glad she doesn't scurry backwards. It’s like trying to resist gravity approaching her slowly like this. His body strains against his restraint but he goes slow. Vanya likes it better when he goes slow.

"You only ever do it around me,” he says closing the distance between them inch by inch.

Her hands twitch towards one another.

"It  was my fault,” he continues as he reaches out and takes her left hand in his own. “It was my idea to try to make a run for it.”

They were fifteen and his new manacles had begun to chafe enough to spark his creativity. It would be a lie if he said he didn’t think of abandoning her but even imagining being away from her at that point was painful. So he’d convinced her to come with him. He fed her words of love and adoration even though resentment was squating in his chest and she’d barely resisted. It took their siblings mere hours to find them. Five had come out of the ordeal with little more than a few bruises but Vanya, she had to wear a cast for weeks. Grace put her through a strict physical therapy regimen and all in all the fingers had healed beautifully and if her playing was any different, he was unable to tell. Just a small scar that ran across her two fingers remained. Five touched it reverently. The thin, jagged line was almost imperceptible now but it never left his mind. Some days, it was all he could see when he looked at her.

“You didn’t speak to me for over a month. It was hell.”

He’d gotten his revenge. The three mechanical fingers on his brother’s left hand were a reminder to everyone but most of all to their father that Five would not suffer any injury to Vanya. And though Reginald did not take kindly to his favorite toy being broken, Five had taken his punishment gladly, knowing that the old man had gotten the message.

“You know I didn’t mean it to be like that. It wasn’t just you, I didn’t speak to anyone,” she says as her fingers tense beneath his touch.

She had been a stone. For weeks, she sat in the infirmary unresponsive and unreactive to everything around her. It wasn’t the pain or the physical wound that had broken her. Without her left hand, she wouldn’t be able to play. The threat of that loss had hung heavily in the air like the silence that fell oppressively over the academy. None of them had realized how used to the sound of the violin they had become accustomed to until it had disappeared completely. Five turns his eyes to her face, her wide eyes are still guarded, unsure but he sees there a hope that perhaps he’ll play nice today.

"So. Uh - I guess I'll head out, let you unpack and get some rest,” she murmurs awkwardly, bowing her head.

He’s got her nearly backed up against the edge of her bed but there’s still enough room for her step away and maneuver around him. Vanya makes a beeline for the door but before she can make it there he stops her.

"Wait,” he says and she halts.

Five takes a seat on his bed and watches as she slowly turns to face him. She’s like a frightened fawn, poised to dash away at a moment’s notice.

“C'mere,” he says sweetly as though he means to coax a wild animal into a trap.

"I should go,” she breathes but even as she says this she’s turning from the door, inching towards him.

"Why?” he says lightly but there’s a darkness in his tone. “You got somewhere better to be? Just come here for a moment.”

She’s less than a foot away when he reaches out again and takes her hand in his. Such a small, dainty thing, from what he knows of the violin, Five thinks she must have the perfect hands for it. He puts his lips to her knuckles, drags them across the scar she got for him. When he looks up from her fingers, he finds her eyes fluttering closed. It’s reassuring to know that even this small touch has an effect on her. Though it isn’t enough, it is never enough.

She’s very plain, his sister. Her face still rounded with baby fat and flat dark hair that only lends to her roundness. Whereas their other sister had matured and blossomed, Vanya had largely stayed the same. Her large brown eyes and tiny button nose left her looking more akin to a mouse than a beauty. And yet, despite all this, he loves her. Desperately, he loves her. There’s no denying it. What Allison rumors becomes a fact. But it wasn’t just love the Rumor gave him, it was  need, frantic, desperate, burning need. He leans into and presses his lips to the corner of her little pink mouth.

“Five. We  agreed .”

He looks up at her and tilts his head to the side with feigned confusion. He’s almost the same height as her even when sitting. Vanya had failed to grow vertically as well as in looks. She was hardly an inch taller than when they were fourteen and he dwarfed her when he stood at full his height which was fast approaching six feet.

“We don’t indulge the rumor any more than we have to,” she says and pulls her hand back.

And he lets her but turns his attention to the buttons on her shirt. Vanya was no longer permitted to wear the academy uniform. Reginald had enrolled her in a private school in the city and now she mostly wore the pleated skirts and plain white button downs that they required. He likes these uniforms better than the jumpers that Reginald had stuck her in before. These were much easier to get into.

“No.  I agreed,” he says as he fingers the little plastic button that sits just above her belly button. “You said that you didn’t want to take advantage of me and I agreed because I know how you so  loathe to be the bad guy, my dearest sister.”

She’s quiet above him but he knows that her thoughts must be churning.

"But you’re not taking advantage of me, I’m taking advantage of you.”

He looks up at her again to see her baffled. He laughs unkindly.

“Don’t you get it, V?” he says hooking one of his fingers into the open space between two buttons. “You're my  reward ."

His finger brushes the soft smooth skin of her belly and Vanya grimaces, a look of such disgust colors her face that he suddenly feels like he wants to throttle her. Just moments ago, she was shuddering at his kisses but now she looks like she wants to hurl. Five twists his fist into her shirt, ruining the once-pristinely ironed fabric and pulls her forward.

"Don’t play dumb. You think I don’t know why you’re up here? Did Dad tell you what a good job I did for him? Wanna hear how many I killed for  you  , just to get back to  you  ? Wanna know what it was like to slit their throats, what they said as I drained the life from them? It's so  ironic how chatty people feel as soon as they have a knife in their throat."

Vanya’s reaction is immediate, she jerks away, stepping back as though to make for the door but his grip on her shirt doesn’t budge. Five tugs her forward and doesn’t miss the feel of her exposed belly beneath his knuckles. It sends a shudder down his spine. He feels ravenous, like he’s been starving for days and has been presented with a feast. Five pulls her closer again so that her face is nearly pressed into his chest.

“Don’t do that, Vanya. Don’t run away like this isn’t about you. This  shit  is yours as much as it is mine,” he whispers hoarsely into the crown of her head.

This is  their burden, a cage built for two.

Vanya relaxes a little, her shoulders drop and the tension in her shoulders melts away. A shuddery breath escapes her lips as she turns her face to his. She looks almost as tired as he feels.

“What do you want from me?”

A silly question.

“What I always want, Vanya.  You .”

It isn’t just that he loves her. He had loved her before Allison rumored him but thanks to her rumor, now he  needed her. Being separated from Vanya was agony for him. He feels as though someone has ripped out his intestines and sent him walking, trailing his entrail out behind. If he can’t touch her, then he needs to see her, and if he can’t have that then he needed to at least hear her. Ironically enough, the further away he got from her the easier it was. While distance didn’t erase the hollow aching, it helped dull his awareness of it. The pain was at its pinnacle when she was close by but just out of reach. Reginald, once he realized this, made great use of his newfound tool of control.

"Come on, Vanya,” he croons trying sweetness again.

Vanya likes it when he’s sweet. He unfurls his fist and flattens the fabric over her stomach.

“It’s not like we haven’t before. Didn’t you like it the last time?"

Last week had been a dream. Five always felt the rumor’s pull just before long absences and knowing this about him, Vanya was usually more pliable. He'd finally convinced her to let him try eating her out. He had been obsessing over it for nearly a month, the thought of her spread out like a meal before him, of tonguing her inside her, tasting her from the inside was enough to make him dizzy. She'd been hesitant at first and it was new for both of them but Five had always been a dedicated learner and a quick study. He’d had her gasping for air and clawing at his scalp in practically no time.

Vanya bites her lip and considers his words then with shaky hands she begins to unbutton her shirt. Five leans back half in awe and half in smug satisfaction. When she gets to the last button, he leans forward and pushes her shirt open with both hands reverently. He splays his hands over her skin. She feels so warm and soft and  good that he nearly sobs in relief. Pushing his right cheek against her belly, he wraps his arms around her middle and pulls her between his legs.

“Five,” Vanya gasps. “Are you sure you want -”

“Don’t ask me that,” he cuts her off sharply. “I always want this.  Always . I don’t have a choice.”

He places a kiss above her navel. Vanya is staring down at him with a pained expression. Five reaches up and pinches one of her cheeks and smiles indulgently.

“Don’t look like that. You’re helping me,” he murmurs and begins to place open mouthed kisses up the center of her body. “You make it better, Vanya. You make it all worth it.”

Five sucks bright red spots over her abdomen as his fingers run up and down her sides. Above him he hears Vanya sighing and gasping with every wet pop of his mouth as it releases her skin. He feels her legs shaking between his thighs as he surveys his work. Her once-pale skin is speckled pink and his spit glitters on her skin. Her face is flushed and turned away.

“Well, I think I’ve had enough,” he says and he’s delighted when she turns to startled at his admission. “You can go now if you want. I won’t stop you.”

She stands there dumbfounded as he leans back on his palms. Her eyes dart around the room and back to his face, uncertain.

“Unless, you want more?”

Vanya worries her bottom lip as she considers again what she should do. Then after a few moments, she begins to slip her shirt from her shoulders.

“Atta girl,” he jeers.

She shoots him a hurt look but doesn’t pause as she begins to reach behind to undo her bra. He always likes watching her undress. It is strangely not a sexual desire. There’s something beautiful to him about her peeling back the layers and layers between them to stand naked before him. Sometimes, Five likes to sit on her bed in the mornings and watch her dress for school and when she comes home in the evenings, he watches her undress again. It’s a process that fascinates him to no end. One day, he’d like to dress her himself. He’s already gotten good at the undressing.

As she wrestles with the clasp at her back, Five runs his hands up her thighs to hook his fingers in the elastic of her cotton panties. He slides them down her thighs to her ankles and she lifts each of her feet as he removes them completely. Vanya moves to undo her skirt as well but he stops her.

“I like it on," Five shrugs.

He stands guides her towards his bed and situates her on the edge. Vanya folds her arms over her chest. It's sweet the way she still tries for modesty even when there's no such thing between them now. Five kneels down and gently lowers her arms. Vanya is still hesitant, resisting ever so slightly but he presses a soft kiss to the inside of her wrist and she folds. He trails more kisses up her arm and across her chest. Five feels her dip backwards baring herself more for him.

Five places a kiss at the center of her chest and flicks his tongue to taste the soft flesh there. Vanya hisses and twists at the sensation. To the left, he leaves a sticky, wet trail until he reaches the soft peak of her nipple. It's already tight and pert, begging for a taste. Five sends a hot puff of air from his mouth and she shivers in his arms.

"Your tits are so sensitive," he muses against her skin.

He breathes again over there nipple as Vanya squirms. Then with no preamble, he reaches up and flicks the little numb and Vanya yelps. Hips buck and she whines as he takes it between his fingers and rolls.

"Fuh-fah," Vanya chokes on his name.

" So sensitive," he murmurs and with her nipple still puckered between his fingers he drags his tongue over it.

"Ah!  Shit ," Vanya says causing a stream of laughter to tumble from his mouth.

Vanya practically vibrates when he scrapes his teeth over the pert little nub letting loose another spout of profanity. Though usually sweet and passive, Vanya was prone to cursing when she was pushed to very edges of pleasure. It only made him work harder, push her further. If he had it his way, they’d do nothing but sit in his bed and work her over until she forgot her own name.

Vanya’s nearly out of her mind when Five finally leans back to survey his handiwork. She’s an obscene sight in nothing but her pleated skirt, spread out across his bed like a buffet. Her pale skin is littered with teeth marks and hickeys and he ghosts a hand over them as though he’s tracing the letters of his name. He wants to press into every inch of her his ownership. It is true that he is trapped by her but each time they’re together, she is just a little more ruined, a little more broken. Soon, she’ll be just as trapped as he is.

At least he hopes so.

Five glances up to find Vanya watching him, her eyes dark with desire as she watches him straighten to his full height. Without needing to be asked, she scoots backwards and lifts her legs. And though her face is flushed with embarrassment, her eyes never leave his as she spreads her thighs and lets her skirt fall back on her belly. Her heels find the edge of the bed as she opens herself to him.

Five is the one to break first, eyes dropping to the apex of her thighs. He can’t help himself. He loves the look of her cunt. Already she’s glistening, her folds slick with desire. He remembers tonguing her open, tasting her arousal on his tongue as she whimpered above him. His mouth is watering with the memory but while it's a tempting thought, he can’t wait. He has to be in her.

With his thumb, he presses her apart. Vanya gasps at the contact and when his eyes dart up to her, he finds her eyes glued to cunt as well. He wonders idly if she too is as entranced by the beauty of it. As though she can feel his eyes, she looks up and meets his eyes looking desperate. A whimper escapes her trembling mouth and it feels good. It feels so fucking good to see her look as pathetic and needy as he feels.

“You should see your face, V,” he says. “Why insist on denying that you want this just as much as I do, I’ll never know.”

Vanya winces as though he’s slapped her but before she can curl up into herself, Five finds the little hard nub of her clit and presses. She spasms as a shockwave rolls through her.

“Fuck,” she sobs and chews on the air for a moment trying to find her bearings but he doesn’t let her.

With practiced deftness, he removes himself from his pants and nudges her thighs further apart. She’s reeling when he pushes in the head of his erection. Vanya lets loose a low hiss and throws her head back. Her left hand is fisting his comforter while the other is against the wall behind her, digging into the paint.

“FiveFiveFive,” she chants frantically as he begins to slip further into her.

Her pleas are somewhere between terrified and desperate. He can’t quite be sure because he can’t see her face. His eyes are glued to the mesmerizing sight of her tiny cunt stretching to accommodate him as he pushes into her. It’s truly a wonder. Everything about Vanya is so tiny. Tiny waist, tiny mouth, her little dainty hands so it’s no surprise that her pussy would be so small and adorable. The first time they fucked, he’d almost thought it would be impossible to fit inside her. But he feels silly for ever thinking such a thing. Of course she’d be able to take him, she was made for him. She was perfect, perfectly made just for him.

He goes slow at first. It’s still so new for her, for the both of them really. It still feels raw, like  ripping open a freshly healed wound and letting it bleed out. A sigh escapes his mouth as he sinks into her, eyes fluttering closed, head falling back. It’s beyond physical, what he feels when he’s inside her. Of course she feels amazing. Her cunt is warm and wet and so fucking good but it’s more than that. It’s as though he'd been holding his breath all this time and just now he'd finally been allowed to inhale. It’s as though he’d just been made whole. It’s as though he’s finally come home.

A part of him is distantly aware that the intensity of what he feels, the way he feels it is unnatural. It’s part of the rumor, albeit an unintended side effect. All his father had been looking for was a way to control him and though he got it, Five is now reaping the benefits, however scarce and fleeting they may be.

"Five," he hears from beneath him.

He looks down to find Vanya a mess. Her face is flushed, eyes glassy with unshed tears. Vanya always gets so overwhelmed when they fuck. He thought that perhaps it was just the first time, he’d tried his best to make it good for her but he knew it hurt. He’d kept the red-stained pair of cotton panties she’d worn that day, hidden it deep in his wardrobe away from any prying eyes or greedy hands that might take it from him.

But even after she’d healed, after it started to feel good for her too, Vanya still cried. Though, Vanya had always been a cry baby, crying even for the ants they used to crush out in the courtyard for fun. A tear buds at the corner of her eye and before it can slide down the side of her face into her hair, he catches it on his thumb. Not thinking anything of it, Five brings the pad of his thumb to his mouth and puts it to his tongue. It tastes of salt and just the slightest bit of her sweat. He’s learned not to take her tears personally, now it’s just nice to know she’s so moved.

“Five, please,” she whines followed by a low moan that gurgles at the back of her throat when he rolls his hips forward pushing into her fully.

“That what you wanted, sis? Feel better?”

She whines in response, too overwhelmed to form any intelligible response.

“You like being full huh?” then again more desperately, “you  like it. You want this, just as much as I do. Don’t you, Vanya?”

He wants her to agree, wants her to tell him she loves him too, needs him as much as he needs her. But that’s impossible. There’s no one in the whole world who understands what he feels.

Five shifts back, pulling out of her fully and slamming back into her with enough force to send her little tits bouncing. He reaches up and rolls one little nub between his forefinger and thumb and Vanya yelps at the sensation. He’s recently realized that she likes it when he plays with her tits while he’s inside her. Five pulls on her little nipple causing her to keen loudly and leans down to place a kiss on her temple.

“We should be like this all the time,” he murmurs into her hairline where a sheen of sweat has begun to form.

He stills and just enjoys the feeling of being inside her. So warm and safe and whole, he could stay like that forever. He could have died happy there sunken into the core of her, the smell of her sweat and tears mixing into the smell of sex. His head drops down to the crook of her neck and he breathes in deeply the heady scent of her.

“F-five,” he hears her mumble.

He loves the sound of his name as it dribbles from her mouth half delirious with need. Her hands have found their way to his shoulders where her nails are digging little crescents into his skin just shy of drawing blood. He feels the pressure of her hips as she press up into him.

“I need more, please Five pleasepleaseplease,” she sobs. “I need you.”

Five feels his heart expand. He always loves her best when she’s undone. He can’t deny her when she’s being so honest. He sets a brutal pace, slamming into her hard enough to bruise but Vanya only sighs in relief at the friction.

“You feel so good, Vanya,” he huffs as he picks up pace, he feels his own face flushing. “No one else could ever feel this good for me. No one else. No one.”

Her breathing has gone ragged, a harsh, unruly tempo against the measured slap of skin against skin. He slips his thumb into her open mouth, pressing down on her tongue. It makes her gag a little and as she chokes her teeth come slamming down on his knuckle. Then she bites down, hard enough to draw blood and sends him over the edge, spilling into her. He cries out, an indecipherable mess of sound as he feels her clench around him as she cums. His eyes screw shut, behind them is nothing but searing emptiness as he sinks into bliss.

    He collapses against her, half kneeling and half laying on her. Beneath him, he feels the rapid rise and fall of her chest as she wiggles beneath his weight. She shifts a little, as though to pull away but he slips his hand under her ass and pushes her hips into his. Vanya grunts, she’s still too sensitive but he doesn’t want to pull out of her yet. He stays there, pressed into her for a few minutes are Vanya’s breathing evens out beneath him.

He’s told no one this but it hurts when he pulls out of her. The loss of connection is like ripping his own arm off.  Vanya slides her shaking arms around his neck, presses her cheek against his and even a few hesitant kisses to the shell of his ear. She’s so sweet after she cums, not withholding and flighty like she usually is. She’s more honest when she’s under him, when he’s inside her and he is always loath to bring it to an end but his legs are beginning to ache and his back is sore as well. The last six days of keeping his brothers and sisters in line and alive is starting to take its toll.

Her arms come undone from his neck with little resistance. When he leans back, Five finds Vanya already half asleep. Her eyes are dull, lids fluttering. Her body has gone slack with exhaustion and satiation. He hauls himself up, wincing as he slides out of her, to undress but he pauses a moment to take in the mess he's made of her.

At some point, she'd lost her footing and now her legs lay dangling just above the floor, spread wide. Her skirt lies in a wrinkled heap across her stomach leaving her messy little pussy completely exposed. His cum is still sliding out of her down to her ass and onto the comforter beneath. It's obscene but she doesn't even seem to register it.

The sight of her has him half hard already but he knows Vanya will need some time before she's ready again. Five strips down before turning his attention back to her. He replaces her skirt over her thighs, smoothing the fabric down so that the wrinkled fabric lays as flat as it can. He really does enjoy the skirt but it needs to come off. After appreciating his handiwork for a moment, he finds the zipper on her right hip and loosens it enough to slide the garment over her legs.

Vanya shifts a little while he works and as soon as her legs are free, she folds her legs into her middle and turns on her side. Five attempts to usher her over to the far side of his bed, but she resists.

"Don't be a brat," he murmurs but with no real malice behind the words.

Vanya cracks an eye to glare at him but eventually she crawls across his bed. Turning her back to him, Vanya tucks herself tightly against his bedroom wall. He stares for a moment at the smooth, unmarked expanse of her back. With a steady hand, he reaches out to brush his fingertips over the curve of her spine. Then, as if scalded, Vanya jumps and curls further into herself away from his touch.

His blood runs cold. The drone of a dead dial tone is ringing in his ear again and he is suddenly awash with the urge to tear into her, rip her back to him and shake her until she promises to never do that again. But an instant after the immediate blaze, his rage cools into bitterness. Her aloofness no longer came as a surprise.

In his worst moments, Five is racked by the fear that she will leave. As their eighteenth birthday draws closer, it becomes a more imminent possibility that Vanya might just disappear. She’s the only one of them who has the chance at any kind of normal life. Reginald had kept her presence almost entirely scrubbed from the media. Though the existence of a seventh baby was widely publicized, Hargreeves had paid an exorbitant amount of money to have it explained away. In theory, Vanya could leave any time she wants.

It isn't that he doesn't understand. The rumor doesn't turn him stupid. Vanya is afraid because she isn't stupid either. They both know that this is a lie, a fabrication created by three words spilled forth by a specific tongue. And for now, she can comfort herself with the belief in her helplessness. For now, they are both prisoners but Vanya is waiting for the day when he’ll wake up and look at her with disgust and accusation, finally free of his curse. There’s really no telling how long Allison’s abilities can last. As far as Five knows, his condition is the most persistent so far.

And on that day, everything will end. He'll be free but, he fears, also at a loss. Nothing will ever feel as good as being with her. As low as he can get without her, the high he experiences when he’s with her or at least when he's inside her, they're perfect. It's been carved into him, the craving, the ache and so too is the sweet relief and high that comes with indulging his addiction. He knows - he knows that this isn't real, but it feels real. And every day that passes, every moment that goes by, that distinction matters less and less.

So he’ll ruin her. To make her stay, he’ll break her down until she’s just as trapped as he is. Five palms her hip and coaxed her onto her back. A low whine rumbles in her chest but she doesn’t resist when he climbs in besides her and skates his hand up under legs and down between her thighs. He watches her face closely as she unfurls from her short nap, coming alive under his ministrations. Still slick with both his cum and hers, she takes his two fingers easily. Her thighs fall open without hesitation, tilting her hips to take him in deeper.

“Five.”

She moans his name so sweetly that he can almost believe that she could feel for him half of what he feels for her. In his head, the dead dial tone is still ringing but louder is the small hope that he's too afraid to voice.

  This is real, this is real. It can work. She loves me enough for this to work.

It isn’t the rumor he needs to get rid of, Five thinks darkly to himself. He just needs to dispose of the person holding the leash.

#fiveya #fiveya fanfic

[gukyi]

boats against the current | pjm

summary: park jimin thinks his life is all well and good, that is, until he finds out that if he wants to play quidditch for his last year at hogwarts, he needs to pass a presentation in muggle studies. and, just like the novel he needs to research, he realizes that maybe his life would be easygoing and simple, if only he didn’t fall in love along the way.

{hogwarts!au, opposites to lovers!au}

pairing: park jimin x female reader word count: 12k genre: fluff, angst warnings: spoilers to the great gatsby by f. scott fitzgerald. felix felicis consumption (main characters under the influence but not aggressively drunk), actual literary references, possible incorrect feeding of owls. a/n: hi i’m guyi i’m 19 and i never fucking learned how to read or write, especially after finishing this. this has sucked the lifeblood out of me. i’m actually deceased. but hey, at least the banner looks good. 

“Hey, Park! Quidditch after class?”

The words bounce off of the walls of the corridor, the other students paying little attention to the random shouts. Hogwarts has always been loud. Jimin’s friends just make it the slightest bit louder.

Jimin whips his head around to find the source of the noise, finding the fifth year, Jungkook, calling after him. Despite being of another house, Jimin enjoys practicing Quidditch with him—he’s a budding seeker who definitely has the potential to go professional, if he practiced enough and didn’t spend most of him time during actual games flirting with the audience. They get along well, and sometimes Jungkook accidentally calls Jimin “hyung” from force of habit as a young Korean, something Jimin holds over his head as many times as he can.

“Sure!” Jimin shouts back. “Meet in the courtyard?”

Jungkook shoots him a thumbs up above his head before his tuft of brunette hair bounces down the hallway, on the way to his next class.

It won’t be just Jungkook—it’s no fun to play a game of Quidditch with two, not to mention the fact that Jungkook’s a seeker and Jimin’s a chaser—but a group of them, all different years and houses because all that house rivalry bullshit stays on the Quidditch field or in the Great Hall for the end-of-year ceremony, and also because Jimin met them all once or twice at different Hogwarts common room parties and Quidditch happened to be something they all had in common.

In the beginning of the year, his Muggle Studies professor showed a movie representation of muggle secondary school, something akin to the second half of a student’s time at Hogwarts. Only, none of the students wore uniforms and instead showed up to class in slouchy jeans and oversized sweaters. And every student seemed to be very aggressive to every other one, like they truly despised being in each other’s presence. And there were certain students who walked down the corridors and everyone else seemed to know their name, where they came from, who they were. According to the guide distributed by his professor, they were the “Popular Kid” archetype, at the very top of the social hierarchy.

Jimin wouldn’t consider himself at the top of the social food chain at Hogwarts—that position is reserved for the Head Boy and Girl—but he does know a rather large amount of the student body. Or, a rather large amount of the student body knows him.

Speaking of Muggle Studies, that’s his next class, and he’s got about three minutes to get to the room before he gets Slytherin’s points docked for being tardy. He breaks out into a small jog, getting progressively speedier as time passes. Another seventh-year Slytherin is heading the other way, pats Jimin roughly on the back as they pass each other with a grunt of “Park!” and moves on.

Jimin makes it to Muggle Studies just in the nick of time, sliding into his seat just as the professor enters the room.

Muggle Studies is, admittedly, not Jimin’s strongest suit. It never has been—not when he comes from a long line of purebloods, some of whom frown upon the integration of Muggle-borns into wizarding schools such as Hogwarts. Jimin’s not like that at all, extremely progressive in comparison to the stereotypical conservative pureblood, but he has a difficult time wrapping his head around the Muggle world and all of its strange and peculiar doodads. It just seems so complicated in comparison to the Wizarding World, where everything is exactly as it appears. Well, mostly everything.

He begins to zone out, as he normally does in this class, the droning of the professor fading into background noise as he doodles in his textbook, drawing pictures of old muggle telephones and candy bars. Muggle Studies is also one of Jimin’s objectively least favorite classes because nothing magical happens. It’s almost all textbooks and essays and homework about non-magical topics. Although, Jimin has to admit that the Internet, whatever the fuck it is, seems pretty magical.

Crack!

Jimin jerks up to see his professor standing above him, glasses sinking down his pointy nose bridge as he glares at him. His wand is held in his hand, clearly having just aggressively tapped on the front edge of Jimin’s desk.

“Park, do you know the answer?” His professor asks angrily, clearly unimpressed.

“Answer to what, sir?” Jimin asks, trying to simultaneously maintain eye contact with his professor and looking around to anyone who might actually know the answer to whatever he’s about to be asked.

“The author of The Catcher in the Rye?” It’s obvious his professor doesn’t think Jimin knows the answer. He’s correct—Jimin has no fucking clue who wrote The Catcher in the Rye.

“Why would you need to catch rye? Jimin asks, trying to buy himself some time.

The professor rolls his eyes, turning away from Jimin to go find another victim. Someone across the aisle sends Jimin congratulatory finger guns for somehow managing to ask a question so ridiculously stupid that it allowed him to escape the wrath of their professor. Jimin gives a thumbs up in return and dips his quill back into his ink pot, getting ready to draw.

“Miss Y/L/N,” he hears the professor’s croaky voice say. “Do you know?”

Interest only slightly piqued, Jimin turns his head to the student being interrogated. You seem to have curled as far into your Hufflepuff robes as possible, in an effort to pretend to be a metamorphosing butterfly or something like that. Jimin knows you very briefly, if at all. Your name, your house, and the fact that you almost never speak.

Jimin starts to think that maybe he should have just sacrificed some House Points and answered the professor’s question, because you don’t seem to be having any fun at all with the professor breathing down your neck, waiting for an answer. He’s about to do something dumb and stupid to get the attention on him and off of you when, soft as a mouse, you whisper, “J. D. Salinger.”

He shuts his mouth. The professor smiles, awards five points to Hufflepuff, and moves on. Jimin sinks down into his seat, turns to the boy next to him.

“That’s Y/N, right?” He asks, motioning to you. You seem to be shriveling back up into your robes, only hints of your skin peeking out, just enough for you to hold onto a quill and write with it on a piece of spare parchment.

“I think that’s her name,” the boy responds, skeptical. “But I’d stay away from her, Park. She’s… strange.”

Jimin frowns, an eyebrow quirking up out of curiosity. “Strange? How so?”

The boy shrugs, unhelpful. He seems to quickly be realizing that his word choice when describing you was particularly poor. Jimin’ll say. “I don’t know, she’s just… weird. She never speaks and you only ever see her in classes, not during our free hours. I hear she draws a lot.”

“But drawing isn’t weird,” Jimin protests weakly, quietly. Though, he doubts you’re paying attention to the conversation he’s having with the boy next to him, a Slytherin he speaks with sometimes, but not frequently. Usually about the latest professional Quidditch match, or to double check something in class. Jimin supposes that the two of them would be friends. But only supposes.

“I know, but disappearing the moment you step out of class is,” the boy says, leaving Jimin no time to respond as he immediately sits up straight, the professor striding back into view.

Jimin shuts up immediately, reverting back to his classic “I swear I was paying attention to you the whole time” stance, though it is blatantly obvious that that was not, in fact, the case. The professor can see right through Jimin’s act, even goes so far as to sneer at him as he heads back to his desk. Jimin really treasures the relationship he shares with his Muggle Studies professor.

“What an enlightening discussion on twentieth century Muggle literature,” the professor drones. Jimin can feel himself falling asleep. He definitely shouldn’t have stayed up late last night playing a game of Wizard’s Chess where, for every piece you lose, you take a bite of the homemade pastries Sprout brought in for their class yesterday. Both his mind and his stomach are taking massive losses. Lots of casualties. Too much time spent on the loo.

Jimin’s about to start making soft snoring noises to amuse the students around him when the professor’s moderately angry, crackly voice breaks through the walls he’s built inside of his head. “So enlightening, in fact, that I am assigning you all a partner project on a Muggle book of literary merit from the twentieth century, to be due in two weeks sharp.”

Groans fill the air. Jimin sees his already low grade in this class plummeting.

“And I expect that those of you who are not doing as well in this course—,” the professor narrows his eyes at Jimin in specific. He feels the slightest bit called out. “—should want to work extra hard. I will give you your partners momentarily—,” more groaning since the students can’t choose, “—and you will have until the end of this class to decide on a novel. Novellas and plays are also acceptable.”

Jimin doesn’t even know what a novella is. This is going to be an absolute disaster.

Within the next few moments, the professor begins to list off the group partners, and Jimin watches as every single person in the room he thinks he might actually enjoy himself with gets paired up with someone else until all that’s left is—

“Park and Y/L/N.”

Even amongst all of the chatter, Jimin can make out the faint sound of something akin to a gasp leaving your lips. Jimin’s certain he feels the same way. Of all of the people in the room, it’s just his luck for him to get paired up with you. Not that he minds, of course, but trust the Muggle Studies professor who’s out for Jimin’s blood to pair him up with the quietest student in their year. Meanwhile, Jimin causes a ruckus simply by existing.

He turns to find where you’re sitting to see you very obviously avoiding his gaze (along with anybody else’s, for that matter), staring straight down at the parchment in front of you before watching as you crumple it up between your fingers and stuff it into your bag, along with the rest of your belongings. Peculiar.

Jimin gathers his items to head over to where you’re seated—because it’s clear you have no intention of moving from your location, the corner in which you have settled—when the professor calls him over with a grunt of “Park.”

He trots up to where the professor is seated at his desk.

“Park,” the professor says, peering over the beady glasses that sit on his all-too pointed nose bridge. “You currently have a Dreadful in this class.”

“Yes, Professor.” Jimin doesn’t need to be reminded. He absolutely tanked on the last assessment they had been given.

“Do I need to remind you that if you have either two Poor’s in your classes or one Dreadful, you are not allowed to participate in the Quidditch games?” He continues.

Jimin may have needed reminding of that. The next match that Slytherin is playing is in two weeks from Friday, which is a mere two days from when this ridiculous partner project is due. And suddenly, Jimin realizes that if he doesn’t ace this project, he won’t be playing in the next match. Or any of the other next matches, because Muggle Studies may very well be the bane of his existence. Shit.

“No, Professor.” Jimin says through gritted teeth. He’s fucked. He’s already starting to resign himself to his fate of a Jimin-less Quidditch season for the Slytherin team and a Quidditch-less final year for himself.

“Good. I suggest you work well with your partner. She has the highest grade in this course, so you’d do well to learn a thing or two from her. Merlin knows you don’t pay attention to me.” The professor motions for Jimin to leave, dampening his already-sour mood.

That’s something new Jimin didn’t know about you. The highest grade in this course? How is that even possible? Jimin steps up to where you’re seated in the corner, staring down at the closed textbook in front of you like it’s just called you ugly.

“Hey,” Jimin says softly, fearing his usually-raucous nature may be a bit much. “Y/N, right?”

You nod silently, letting Jimin take the seat next to you.

“I’m Jimin,” he says, feeling obligated to introduce himself despite the fact that the two of you have been classmates for the past six and a half years now.

“I know,” you say, barely above a whisper, before your eyes widen, like you had just spoken incorrectly.

Jimin doesn’t know what to say to that. Of course you know who he is. Jimin has a name that gets around. He plays Quidditch, attends every party he can get to, and knows everyone on campus. This conversation stinks.

“I’m sorry you had to be paired up with me,” Jimin says, trying to break the ice, only it feels like he’s sawing through the tension with a plastic spoon. “I’m not very good at this class.”

You nod again, choosing to keep your mouth shut as a means of responding to him. Jimin can’t blame you. An awful lot of dumb shit comes out of his mouth. He should probably pick up a tip or two from you.

“What book were you thinking?” Jimin asks, hoping you have a substantive answer because Jimin’s got absolutely nothing. All he’s thinking about is the future (or lack thereof) of his Hogwarts Quidditch career if he can’t get an Outstanding, or at least an Exceeds Expectations, on this project, and the parchment you crumpled up into your bag. Curiouser and curiouser.

You mumble something unintelligible.

“What?” Jimin asks, leaning in closer. You seem to be alarmed by the sudden shrink in proximity, though you make no efforts to move away, instead hoping to curl deeper into your dandelion yellow robes.

“The Great Gatsby,” you say, a bit louder this time. Jimin can feel himself exhaling. He at least recognizes the title of that book, which is a win as far as he’s concerned.

“Sounds good,” Jimin says with a smile. It’s not as if he has anything better to suggest. “I’ll tell the professor we’ve chosen a book.”

You nod your agreement and Jimin stands up to head back over to the professor to inform him. On the way, he passes by some of his friends in the class, who all seem to be giving him pity looks for his partner. Jimin, for the life of him, cannot figure out why everyone finds you so strange. You seem perfectly fine and dandy to him, albeit a tad quiet. But Jimin’s not going to complain. You seem extremely capable.

“Professor!” He calls as he makes it back over to the desk.

The professor seems thrilled to see Jimin again. “Park.”

“We’ve chosen a book,” Jimin says excitedly.

“And that is?”

“The Great Gatsby.”

This makes the professor raise his eyebrows. He looks up from the paperwork he’s completing to meet Jimin’s eyes, something sort of like a knowing smirk plastered on his face. Jimin feels uneasy. “Really?”

Jimin nods.

“Well,” the professor says, “I will write you down for Gatsby.” He still has that knowing grin dancing along his cracked lips.

“Is there something else, Professor?” Jimin asks, unable to stop his intrigue from getting the better of him.

“No,” the professor says with a shake of his head. “Only, you may find that with The Great Gatsby, there is more to it than meets the eye.”

Jimin’s starting to regret ever asking.  

“I’m serious, Jeon,” Jimin says as they toss around a Quaffle on the Quidditch field, brooms barely four meters above the green below. Even though Jungkook’s a seeker, neither of them have much intent to practice Quidditch for what it is. “I’m fucked.”

“What do you mean?” Jungkook responds, skeptical. Even as a measly fifth year, his coordination with the Quaffle is pretty damn impressive for a Seeker. “I’m sure you’ll be fine. Your next match isn’t for another couple weeks. Meanwhile I’m gonna crush Gryffindor next week.” As he says this, he chucks the Quaffle towards a Gryffindor sixth-year that’s part of their intramural Quidditch group, catching the kid entirely off guard and causing him to swerve on his broom so the ball doesn’t break his nose. Jungkook giggles.

“I know, but I have a Dreadful right now,” Jimin sighs.

“In Muggle Studies?” Jungkook says, looking severely unimpressed. “Well, I suppose that’s what you get for being a pureblood.” Jungkook always teases Jimin about his blood status, as a half-blood himself, he sort of gets the best of both worlds. He’s always calling Jimin old-fashioned for not knowing what Muggle objects are. “I bet you don’t even know what a cell phone is.”

“Fuck you!” Jimin shouts, getting his hands on the Quaffle just in time to hurl it straight towards Jungkook’s face. With reflexes as good as they always are, Jungkook dodges easily. “I know what a cell phone is.”

Jungkook obviously doesn’t believe him. “So what are you gonna do to get your grade up before your game? Because if we win our game against Gryffindor, then we’ll be up against you next. And without the top Chaser, Slytherin’s fucked!” Jungkook starts cackling.

Jimin sighs, one hand holding onto the broom and another rubbing at his temples. “I don’t know,” he says, flying up to Jungkook so their conversation isn’t shouted across the Quidditch practice field. “We have this dumb partner presentation on Muggle literature due a couple days before the game, so if I can miraculously do well on it, I should be alright.”

“Sweet!” Jungkook says like it is a God-ordained miracle. “Who’s your partner?”

“Y/N.”

“Never heard of them!” Jungkook exclaims like it’s the happiest thing in the world. “Good at Muggle Studies?”

“Highest grade in the course,” Jimin says softly, only the slightest bit envious of you. All of his life’s worries and toils and troubles would instantly vanish if he had the highest grade in his Muggle Studies course.

Jungkook hoots and hollers. “Well, there you go! You’re guaranteed to play in the game in a couple weeks.” He gives Jimin a heavy pat on the back, one he feels deep down in his bones, and then gets the Quaffle tossed to him from another kid in their group. “So you better get practicing, Park!”

Jungkook chucks the Quaffle down the expanse of the Quidditch field and immediately Jimin dives after it, still wondering if he really is guaranteed a good score on his Muggle Studies presentation because of you.

The next time Jimin has Muggle Studies, his professor is having a decidedly good day, seeing as the whole class is allowed the entire duration of the forty-five minutes to themselves, time meant to work on the project.

For Jimin, this would normally result in forty-five minutes of doing anything but the project, much to the dismay of the professor (and Jimin wonders why he hates him so much), fooling around and being a shit student, as one does. But today, as his legs carry him towards the empty seat in the corner next to you, Jimin finds that his superego seems to win out.

“Hey,” he says. He isn’t sure if it’s his voice or the book he plops down on the wooden desk that makes you jump in surprise. “Ready to get started?”

You nod wordlessly, pulling out the battered copy of The Great Gatsby you keep with you. It dawns on Jimin that perhaps he should have gotten his hands on his own copy before arriving to class. He makes a mental note to drop by the library after class.

“You must like this book, huh?” Jimin asks, attempting to stir up some conversation. He’s always been quite the talker and you, evidently not.

Again you nod as you pull out a quill and some parchment from your bag. As you do, some extra parchment caught on the clean sheet comes with it, making your eyes widen as you quickly stuff the offending piece back into your bag, hoping no one’s caught you. Peculiar.

“Well, I gotta be honest with you,” Jimin says as he leans back in his seat, trying his very best to resume his “cool kid” persona so he stops making an absolute fool of himself in front of you. “I haven’t really… read the book yet. Or pay much attention in this class, so I suppose I need to work on that,” he adds on a self-deprecating chuckle for good measure.

It’s unclear if you’re picking up the vibe that Jimin is putting down. Or anything Jimin is putting down, for that matter. “That’s okay,” you tell him. “I can do most of the work, if you’d like.”

Normally, an offer like this would have Jimin jumping to his feet to accept, seeing it as his way out of doing anything of substance without having to sacrifice a grade for it. Jimin’s always been kind of a terrible partner to have for a project, but he puts in some effort where it counts. Sometimes. But now, as Jimin sits in Muggle Studies with a professor that glances up specifically at him every now and then, Jimin doesn’t see slacking off as an option. Especially when the fate of his Quidditch season lies in this project. If he doesn’t contribute, the professor will know. And thus will happen the brutal end to Jimin’s Hogwarts Quidditch career.

“No, I couldn’t let you do that,” Jimin immediately refuses your offer, thinking of the greater good. “It seems like an awful lot of work. Plus, you’re probably extra busy with stuff yourself.”

“No, not really,”  you respond with a shrug. No additional comments.

“What do you mean?” Jimin says with a small nudge to your elbow. “Everyone’s busy with stuff. Don’t you draw?”

“Well, I—”

“I don’t know very much about art, but I imagine that takes a lot of time,” Jimin says, grinning to himself. He’s won this battle. “So I will help you with the work because we are both equally as busy. No buts.”

You open your mouth to say something, but immediately close it, like the thought’s vanished from your mind. Or maybe, you’ve forced it away.

“I know I was probably your last choice for a partner in this class,” Jimin says with a sigh, “but I promise I’ll actually help you with this project. I need to actually start paying attention and learning in this class, and there’s no better time to start than now. Plus, you’re way better than that old geezer up there. So I promise I’ll do my share. This is a partner project, after all.”

“I don’t know, I feel like in order to help me do this project, you’d actually have to read the book first,” you say with the slightest hint of a giggle, the faintest outline of a smile gracing your lips. It’s the first time Jimin’s ever seen you smile. He decides then and there that he wouldn’t mind seeing it more often.

“Wow, okay, attacking me from the start, alright,” Jimin says dramatically, hands up in surrender. “Fine, I see how it is. Guess I’ll have to pick up the slack and start reading.”

Another small giggle. “There’s a Muggle section in the library that should have Gatsby in there. It’s a short book, so you should be able to get through it relatively quickly. Emphasis on should.”

“Well, I suppose I’ll have to head to the library after class, then,” Jimin says. “Come with?”

“Oh, no, I don’t need to, though,” you say, holding up your own battered copy, worn at the edges, clearly read multiple times. Jimin’s thankful that you’ve selected a book you’re enthusiastic about—it would be an awful long two weeks if the two of you spent it slaving over a novel that not even one of you enjoyed.

“Aw, come on? What else would you be doing?” Jimin asks. He won’t push the topic if it makes you uncomfortable, but that one student did mention how you have a habit of disappearing post-class.

“I have places to be,” you mutter, clearly not wanting to go too in-depth on the matter.

“To do what?” Jimin asks, pressing just a little harder. He’ll cease if it gets to be too much, but it’s obvious that you’re having fun avoiding his questions.

Head facing the book resting on the desk in front of you, you say, “Things that don’t concern you, Park.”

The clocktower chimes, signalling the end of the class, and, just like clockwork, you’re out of your seat in an instant, disappearing down the hallway like you were never there in the first place.

Jimin drops by the library after class, Muggle Studies being his last course of the day before he resigns himself to his room to an evening of homework and chicken legs. Madame Pince helps him find The Great Gatsby in the little corner of the library that has all of the Muggle, non-magical books. She seems quite surprised that someone like Jimin would have any interest in Muggle literature.

After he finishes his supper, one of his friends, Joshua, drops by their shared dormitory to ask if Jimin’s up for a game of Gobstones.

“No thanks, Josh, I’m busy tonight,” Jimin says with a smile, holding up the copy of The Great Gatsby he’s borrowed from the library. Jimin’s only a couple of chapters in, but he finds the book quite enjoyable.

“Reading?” Joshua says in disbelief. “Is that even you, Park? You don’t read.”

“I’ve got a Muggle Studies project due,” Jimin says.

“Oh, Cheol told me about that,” Joshua responds, like Jimin mentioning his project is just a reminder to him. “You’re paired up with Y/L/N, right? She’s strange, I heard. Smart, but strange.”

“I mean, she isn’t really that weir—”

“I can’t believe she’s got you actually reading! I don’t think I’ve seen you open a book since third year,” Joshua says with a chortle. “I’m impressed, I have to say. What’s with the sudden increase in productivity? Are you actually trying to impress her, or something?”

“Just trying to do my share of the work,” Jimin says with a grimace, wanting nothing more than for Joshua to just go away so he can read in peace.

“Ha! You’re doing work, too?” Joshua says, like he can’t believe his ears. “Damn, she’s got you in deep. Bet you’re just trying to woo her so you get a good grade before the Quidditch match next Friday.” Jimin opens his mouth to defend himself, but Joshua keeps going. “Well, we’re playing Gobstones in the common room if you wanna come join after you’re finished reading, or whatever. Enjoy your book, Park!”

With that, Joshua marches off, heavy footsteps on the cement of the Slytherin common room. Jimin leans back against his bed frame, wondering if a good grade is really all there is to it.

“I read the book,” Jimin says in lieu of a greeting as he takes his seat next to you. You’re much less surprised to see him there today than you have been on days past. “It was good. I liked it.”

“I thought you would,” you muse to yourself. There’s a black notebook in the top right corner of your desk, no writing or any other sort of label identifying it. Just a leather bound book with a piece of hard ribbon wrapped around it, like its contents are secret.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Jimin asks, smile dancing along his face. He even went as far as to take a few notes on the story, though he bets that they pale in comparison to the knowledge you hold of the novel.

“Oh, nothing,” you say softly, playing coy.

“Hey, come on! You’re definitely insulting me right now except I’m too stupid to realize it,” Jimin pouts, beginning to think that maybe he didn’t look at Gatsby close enough and there’s some subliminal message to the story that went right over his head.

“I’m not,” you insist, “I just had a feeling you’d enjoy it.”

Jimin’s skeptical, but he drops the topic. “Well, you were right, I did. I finished it last night.”

“You read the whole thing in a day? What happened to Master Slacker Park Jimin, hmm?” You ask, curious. Your fingers are fiddling with the ribbon wrapped around the notebook on your desk, untying the bow and tying it back up again.

“He’s still here, I promise,” Jimin says with a wink, making you roll your eyes slightly as you turn away from him, not wanting to be subjected to his sleaziness any longer.

“What did you like most about it?”

“The book?” Jimin ponders an answer. He did actually enjoy reading it—something he hasn’t experienced in quite a while. He can’t remember the last time he actually read a book for class. It must have been years. “I don’t know, I just… it was very well written. And Gatsby’s character was so intriguing. A man who has everything willing to give all of it up for the girl he loves. Including his time.”

“Mmm,” you hum. “The thing about love,” you muse, more to yourself than to Jimin, though he listens in anyway. He always wants to hear what you have to say. For someone of so few words, you’re very careful how and when you use them. “Is that it makes people feel like they’ve lost control.”

“Presentations due in a week! I trust that you are all making good, steady progress and that you have been working diligently these past few days,” the professor eyeballs Jimin again, and he sinks down into his seat, almost like he’s trying to melt into it. “Remember that next week I will not be giving any time in class to work on this, so you will need to find time on your own to complete them.”

The clocktower rings.

“Class dismissed!”

Everyone immediately begins to herd out of the room, but Jimin realizes that you and him have only spent class time working on your presentation and it’s only about halfway finished. You’ll need to meet outside of class, during your free periods or extra time.

“Hey, Y/N,” Jimin says as you’re gathering your belongings, placing your textbooks and quills back in your back, black, leather bound notebook still held tightly between your fingers. “When do you have time to meet outside of class to finish this?”

“Uh… I’m free most of the time,” you say as you head towards the door, Jimin following suit.

“Okay, I have Quidditch practice every Monday and Wednesday from three to six and Tuesdays from six to nine. This weekend should be free for me, except I’m going to Hogsmeade on Sunday afternoon,” he tells you, walking alongside you. Jimin doesn’t know where you go after Muggle Studies, only knows that you disappear down the hallway and no one can ever seem to keep track of you. He’s curious—eager to find out where you flutter off to when no one else is looking.

“Alright, well. Whenever works for you,” you say, speeding ahead.

“Hey, why are you in such a rush?” Jimin asks, catching up to you easily, limbs nimble from riding around on brooms in a competitive sport constantly. “Where are you going?”

“Nowhere,” you mutter to yourself, Jimin hot on your trail. He’s not trying to chase you down or anything, but you’re walking against the current of students headed down the hallway, taking odd little staircases here and there as Jimin tries to keep up with you.

“You’re clearly headed somewhere,” Jimin says with a scoff. “We still need to discuss when we can work together for our project, Y/N.”

“I know, I know,” you say. “We can figure it out. Whenever you’re free.”

“Hey, Y/N?” Jimin says, finally catching his breath as the two of you wait on a moving staircase, slowly rotating you around the inside of the castle. “You know that you don’t have to hide from me, alright?”

“I—”

“If you don’t want me here, I’ll leave, I promise,” Jimin says. “But if you do, then… please. Don’t run away from me,” he pleads. He feels a little strange, standing here on a moving staircase in Hogwarts, asking you to open up your private life to him after hardly a week of constant contact. It feels personal. It feels like an invasion of privacy.

You seem to be waiting on yourself for an answer, like there are words on the tip of your tongue but you don’t know if you should open your mouth. Jimin’s definitely overstepped every boundary currently within a five-mile radius, asked something of you that is going to make the next week painfully awkward before the two of you go back to not speaking.

“Okay,” you murmur, so quiet that Jimin can hardly hear you, isn’t even sure if you’ve said anything at all.

When you reach the top of the staircase, you and Jimin find yourselves face to face with a thick wooden door, one Jimin doesn’t think he’s ever seen. Granted, he’s not necessarily a big explorer of the castle, so there are definitely places he’s never come across, but this door has been right under his nose the entire time, totally overlooked, even after seven years.

Jimin begins to worry that whatever you’re about to show him may not necessarily follow school rules, but he pushes the thought to the back of his mind as you open the door.

It’s the owlery.

Well, it’s not the owlery that Jimin’s familiar with. Jimin’s been into the owlery before, but this isn’t what he remembers. It’s higher, less crowded, cozier. Gets more light from the windows at the top, bright blue sky slowly fading to night as time passes. Jimin also doesn’t recognize any of the owls, can’t find his own in the crowd.

“What is this place?” Jimin asks, in awe. You place your bag down on a pile of cushions in a corner before making your rounds, saying hello to all of the different owls, poking your fingers through the wire of the cages.

“It’s the school’s owlery,” you explain to Jimin, pointer finger rubbing against the beak of a barn owl. “The school’s owls don’t get as much love or use as the students’, so I… I guess I pick up the slack.”

“I didn’t even know this place existed,” Jimin says, peering into a cage to say hello. The owl sniffs his finger before determining Jimin as a non-threatening being, accepting pets.

“Most people don’t,” you say softly,

“It’s incredible,” Jimin admits. He had no idea the school had its own owls, but he supposes that makes sense. How else is the school supposed to receive news and other business? Through the students’ owls? Magic stretches far and wide, and oftentimes it’s rather inconvenient for every minister and magical official to make the trek to Scotland. Jimin has to admit he never gave much thought to the school’s postal system. He had always received his mail from his own owl, Beanpole, without much concern. Fascinating. “How long have you been coming up here?”

“Ever since I found out about it,” you admit, settling down in the cushions as you fish around in your bag for something. You pull out your leather bound notebook, a strange little writing device in your hand that Jimin believes is known as a pen in the Muggle world. “Since fourth year.”

“Unbelievable,” Jimin says, still shellshocked. He’s afraid that sitting down next to you on the cushions may be too much of an invasion, seeing as he’s just been shown one of the most private parts of you, so he stays standing, feet wandering as he visits each cage. “It’s absolutely breathtaking.”

From up here, where Jimin looks out of the window, he swears he can make out the whole lake by Hogwarts. Can visualize the boats on the lake, taking the scared first-years to the Great Hall to be sorted under the lanterns’ light. He’s hardly ever up this high, just for Astronomy, since the Slytherin common room is in the dungeons. And even so, he almost never gets to look out of the window, at the earth below. It’s like he’s flying.

“You come up here every day?” Jimin asks. It’s no wonder that this is where you’re always disappearing off to. It’s peaceful, homey, cozy. All things that Jimin has definitely ruined by barging into your life.

“I try to,” you say sheepishly, pen scratching against the parchment of your notebook as you pull your knees up to your chest.

Jimin makes his way over to you, footsteps careful so as not to scare you off. “I’m sorry if I’ve invaded something of yours,” he feels the apology is long overdue. “If you want me to leave, I totally will. Just say the word.”

“No, it’s alright,” you say. Hesitantly, you tuck away your little notebook, clicking at your pen so that the ink tip disappears into the contraption. Jimin thinks that you’re ready to leave, finished with the owlery now that he’s here, but instead you simply shift over slightly, motioning to the empty cushion on the floor next to you, like an invitation.

Jimin walks over trepidatiously, like he isn’t sure if he’s allowed to sit down so close to you, press into your personal bubble like it’s nobody’s business. But you make no attempts to move away, not seeming to mind in the slightest that Jimin’s there with you. Jimin sits down beside you, instantly relaxing from the comfort of the cushions amongst the both of you, falling into a peculiar but pleasant silence.

He turns his head to look at you slightly, but you’re not looking back at him. You seem to have lost yourself in thought, staring off towards the sky, aimlessly. From here, Jimin can see the way the light reflects in your eyes, making them appear like skies in and of themselves. Twinkling. Jimin reaches the conclusion that he likes it here, in the owlery, but he likes being here with you just a little more.

“You know,” you say softly, almost inaudible, “it’s kind of nice not to be here alone.”

“You don’t mind?” Jimin asks. He could have sworn you’d kick him out of here by now.

You shake your head slightly, “No, I—I enjoy your company.”

“We could always work on our project up here,” Jimin suggests. “No one else to bother us. It’s quiet here, too. Good place to study. No wonder you get such good grades. This place is your secret weapon.”

“Well, it can be yours, too,” you tell him.

“If you’ll have me,” Jimin jokes back. You sound completely serious, but he wants to make sure that he isn’t disrupting anything by being here.

You nod. “It’s—it’s nice being up here… with you.”

It sounds a little like an opened door, welcoming him in. Feels a little more like an invitation. And as you and Jimin sit up here, far above the noise of the rest of the Hogwarts student body, the comfortable silence surrounding the both of you, Jimin realizes that, even if only just for a moment, you bring a calmness to his hectic, rowdy life. One that Jimin never realized he needed.

“But one thing I don’t understand is why Gatsby would sacrifice so much of himself for Daisy,” Jimin says, biting on the edge of his quill as he ponders the notes in front of him. The presentation is pretty straightforward in terms of content, just the historical context to the story, the basic plot, major themes and characters, all of the usual book report requirements. But despite this, Jimin can’t help but wonder aloud why Gatsby’s done what he’s done. “Especially when Nick was standing there the whole time, trying to talk him out of it.”

“Well, Gatsby was so hung up on Daisy’s presence in his life before she left that he was determined to get back that time again. Even if it did cost him his life,” you say, staring down at the pieces of parchment all spread around around you, a sea of almond and beige against the hardwood of the owlery.

One of the younger owls you had let out of its cage—not a baby but not a disgruntled adult—pecks away at Jimin’s belongings. Jimin sifts through his bag until he pulls out an old granola bar, unwrapping the snack and feeding bits of it to the owl.

“But why? He must have known it never would have happened, with Tom and everything.”

“That’s the thing,” you say, plucking one of the sheets off of the ground. It’s the one Jimin and you had written down research of the decade at the time. Admittedly, it was mostly you, since Jimin doesn’t know the first thing about American history. Or any Muggle history, for that matter. “Fitzgerald wanted to emphasize the darker parts of the Roaring 20’s through Gatsby. He used Gatsby as a lens into the newly rich. Naive and clueless. Blinded by their wealth, and their passion.”

“That’s so… sad,” Jimin huffs. “I mean, Gatsby’s sad as it is, but knowing the context just makes it… sadder.”

You hum, a soft chuckle leaving your lips. Like there’s something uncanny to it, to this whole thing. “Well, people with power and popularity think that nothing they do is wrong.”

Before the clocktower chimes to signal the end of class, Jimin turns to you. You’re slowly putting away your belongings, humming a soft tune to yourself.

“Hey, I have Quidditch from three to six today, so I won’t be able to meet you until later,” he tells you.

You nod in understanding. “That’s fine,” you say. “I mean, I’ll be up there anyway, so you can just meet me there when you’re finished practice. Bring food.”

Jimin chuckles. “You ever seen a Quidditch practice before?”

You shake your head. “It’s not really my kind of thing. In case you haven’t noticed, I’m not big on sports.”

“You can come to mine,” Jimin immediately invites. It is, admittedly, not as private as your owlery, but it feels right to return the favor, however he can. “I wouldn’t mind.”

“I don’t want to intrude,” you say, tentative.

“You don’t have to if you don’t want to,” Jimin immediately backtracks. “But it would be nice to have you there. You can see me look super cool as I fly around on a broom and toss balls at my teammates.”

“You don’t need to be on a broom to look cool,” you say, rolling your eyes. It’s a welcome ego boost for Jimin.

“Plus, afterwards we can just go straight to the owlery together,” Jimin suggests, seeing the practicality in it. In all actuality, he just sort of wants you there, but any sort of logical reason as your being there will help. “After dropping by the Great Hall to get dinner, of course.”

You giggle to yourself, nodding. “As long as you’re okay with it. I wouldn’t want to intrude.”

“No, I don’t mind at all. I—I wouldn’t really mind having you there, you know,” he says, a little more shy. He swears, he can feel the faintest hint of warmth rush to his cheeks, and can only hope that the green in his robes counteracts the red in his skin.

With another nod, Jimin leads you the opposite direction of the owlery, taking you down to the field where the Slytherin team practices. You stick out like a sore thumb, golden Hufflepuff robes against not only the green in their uniforms but the green of the grass, as well. It’s clear you’re out of place, a little awkward and a little shy, but Jimin does his best to keep you comforted, telling you sit at an empty bench in the shade of a large oak tree as the rest of the team filters in. He promises that they won’t bother you, adding in a couple of glares to his mates as they walk past him. He trusts that any tormenting concerning the situation will be directed at him rather than you.

“Keep an eye out for me, yeah?” He tells you as he begins walking towards the back locker room, where his broom and practice robes are. “I promise I’m good.”

As Jimin comes back out of the locker room, sweaty, old practice robes draped over his body and Firebolt in his hands, one of his teammates punches him in the shoulder as they head towards the field.

“A girl, Park? Seriously?” He asks, motioning towards you. Jimin shoves off his teammate.

“So? What’s the big deal?”

“So? You don’t bring girls to Quidditch practice. You don’t bring girls anywhere, in fact. Park, when was the last time you seriously cared for relationships?”

“This is different,” Jimin insists. “We’re just working on a project together.”

“Sure,” his teammate says, not sounding very sure at all.

By the time they’re all on brooms, chucking around Quaffles and Bludgers, Jimin’s been given more than enough grief from his teammates about your presence there. He’s decently high up, so he can only hope you don’t hear his annoying teammates very obviously talking about you like you aren’t even there.

“Her again?” Joshua asks as he flies up to her, Bludger bat resting snugly in his hands. Joshua’s always been kind of aggressive, very forward. Beater was naturally the best Quidditch position for him. “You’re in deep, Park. Never thought you’d go this far just for a grade.”

Jimin opens his mouth to say something, tell Joshua he’s an asshole and that there’s more to this than just a grade, more to you than just your intelligence, but the Beater is already flying off, ready to practice his aim with the other Beater on the team.

Other than your appearance, practice is relatively boring. Every now and then, Jimin will look back down at you, check to see if you’ve abandoned him or not, and find you in the exact same position as before, resting on the wooden bench under the large oak tree with your notebook and pen in hand. He wonders what you’re doing. He always wonders what you’re doing.

Practice ends with the traditional Slytherin chant, a good luck charm for Friday. That is, if Jimin can get his Dreadful in Muggle Studies back up to something passing. If he can’t, Slytherin’s done for. Everyone bids everyone else a good night as they’re flying back down to the ground, heading towards the locker room to get changed and go do the rest of their nightly responsibilities.

“Hey,” Jimin says as he strolls up to you, broom in hand and sweat dripping down his forehead. He seems to catch you off guard, if the way you quickly tear a page out of your notebook like you’ve been caught doing something red-handed is anything to go by. “All done. Did you see me up there?”

You nod. “I have to say, you weren’t really as cool as you said you’d be.”

Jimin gasps, mock offended. “Lies! Blasphemy! I am very cool,” he says with a pout. “You try looking cool on a broom. It’s harder than it looks.”

“I have to admit I’ve never flown a broom before,” you concede.

“Wait, seriously?” Jimin says, pausing. “Never?”

You shake your head with a smile, like it’s something to be proud of. Jimin can hear his teammates filing out for the night, sending obnoxious wolf whistles his way as the two of you chat. Sometimes, Jimin really hates his friends. “I always skipped flying class. I hated it.”

“Well, that’s going to change,” Jimin decides then and there. “Come on, up.”

“Up? For what?” You ask, staying seated.

“I’m gonna teach you how to fly a broom.”

“Oh gods, no. I’d be awful at it,” you say, furiously shaking your head.

“No one’s awful at broom-flying,” Jimin promises. “Come on, please? I’ll teach you. I’m a great teacher, I promise.” He holds out his hand, motioning for you to take it.

You look from Jimin’s eyes, to the Firebolt in his hand, to the other one outstretched in front of you, like you’re not sure which one to trust most. A small smile graces Jimin’s lips, a promise etched on them. You take his hand.

“Okay,” Jimin says, standing in the middle of the field. It’s beginning to get dark now, the only lamps on the field the lights from the torches placed along the outside walls of the castle. It makes everything look a little warmer, makes you look like you’re glowing. “So you’re going to mount the broom, one leg on one side and one on the other—”

“This is extremely uncomfortable,” you deadpan.

“You get used to it, I promise,” Jimin says. “And then your hands just go on the front of the broom to balance yourself.”

Slowly, you lean forward on the broom, hands gripped tightly on the wood. It’s obvious you feel as though you’re about to topple over, but Jimin wouldn’t let that happen to you. Not in a million years.

“Here, like this,” Jimin says with a chuckle, reaching over to hold onto your hands, showing you the proper way to grip a broom. Your palms are sweaty from nervousness, and Jimin tries not to pay too much attention to the way he feels his heart jump a few beats at the touch. You let Jimin adjust you as he pleases until he’s satisfied with your form. “Okay. Kick off.”

“Oh, Jimin, I don’t know,” you say, the nerves coming up all at once.

“You can do it, Y/N,” Jimin says softly. “I believe in you. I’ll catch you if you fall. I promise. I’m right here.”

With a little more encouragement, you slowly push off the ground. The Firebolt Jimin has is certainly a more professional broom, but that doesn’t make it any more difficult to use, even for a beginner such as yourself. Its turns are smoother and tighter, aerodynamic enough to gain speed steadily but still quickly.

“Holy shit, holy shit, holy shit,” you say, shouting, “Jimin, I’m doing it! This is—holy shit!”

“I knew you could!” Jimin calls back. You are by no means up very high, staying low to the ground in case you do end up falling off, but you complete a couple of loops around the practice field before touching back down on the ground, momentum sending you flying forward regardless. You topple off Jimin’s broom, doing a couple of rolls on the grass, coming to a halt a few meters away from where you abandoned his Firebolt.

Jimin rushes over to make sure you’re okay, only to find you laughing to yourself.

“See, I knew you could fly,” Jimin says with a grin, pulling you back up to your feet.

“That was actually kind of fun,” you admit, conceding defeat. Somehow, Jimin had a feeling you wouldn’t really be awful at flying the broom. You’re not awful at anything. You could never be.

“But the real question is, can you look as cool as me while flying?” Jimin jokes.

“I don’t know,” you say sarcastically. “I think I might have to learn a few more things from you.”

“Damn right,” Jimin says confidently, appreciating the subtle praise coming from your lips. “I’m the coolest Quidditch player around. Other Quidditch players cower in my presence.”

With a laugh, you say, “I’m sure they do. I really liked doing that, Jimin. It was very… exhilarating.”

Suddenly, Jimin gets an idea. “Would you like to try something?”

“What?”

“You’ll see,” he says suavely, smirk plastered on his face. He quickly runs over to grab his broom, settling himself on top of it, closer to the front of it than he normally sits. “Come on, hop on!”

“Are brooms meant for two people?” You ask, concerned. You’re starting to see where he’s going with this.

“It’ll be fine, I promise. Come on, Y/N. Please?” With hesitant steps, you make your way over to him, setting on the broom behind his body. “Wrap your arms around me. It’s alright, I promise I won’t let you fall. You’ll be alright.”

The moment Jimin feels your fingers resting securely on his stomach, arms wrapped around his torso, he takes off. You gasp, surprised by the sensation, but Jimin’s always been a decent flyer and the added weight is hardly a barrier for him. Six years of Quidditch playing under his belt alongside broomstick training since he was little makes for a pretty smooth ride.

“Oh my gods, Jimin, we’re so high,” you say, making the mistake of looking down. You must be at least ten meters above the castle walls now.

“Look up, Y/N,” Jimin instructs, flying around in circles once he’s reached a pleasant altitude. You follow his order, gasping softly when you do. It’s nighttime now, only the field’s edges illuminated by the warm yellow light of the torches, but darkness means a night sky above you, and more importantly, the celestial bodies within it.

“Oh Gods, it’s beautiful,” you say, and Jimin only wishes he could turn his head to see the look on your face, but your safety is decidedly more important. “I never—I never realized you could see them so close.”

“I thought you might like it.” Jimin grins to himself.

“Like it? I love it,” you exclaim. He feels one of your hands leave his waist, imagines that you’re reaching out above you, almost as if you can touch the stars with your fingertips. And as the two of you fly around on Jimin’s broom without another care in the world, your body pressed closely against his, warmth radiating through his robes, he knows for certain, then, that if you wanted to touch the stars, all you had to do was ask.

“Still, after all of that, he surely loved her. He must have,” Jimin presses, perhaps more for himself than for the purposes of the project.

“I don’t know, Jimin,” you hum to yourself. “I don’t really think he knew the full weight of his actions. It could have been misplaced.”

“But isn’t that the whole point of the story?” Jimin asks, looking at you. You’re hesitant to meet his gaze, but hold eye contact regardless, eyes flickering every now and then. “That even if Gatsby didn’t know what would happen to him, didn’t realize how ridiculous and ignorant he was being, he still found affection for her. Fitzgerald created a love story so sad that it uncovered the darkest secrets of the era.”

You look skeptical. “But could that have been true love? Was it real?”

Jimin scoffs. “Of course it was real. It was impossible for him not to fall in love with her.”

“Park, you coming tonight?” Seungcheol pops his head into Jimin’s dorm as Jimin’s putting away the last of his schoolwork, deciding that fuck it, he’s not gonna learn anything else about The Great Gatsby before his presentation with you tomorrow and that he might as well just enjoy himself tonight. Admittedly, a rager on a Tuesday isn’t the most appropriate timing for a party, but it’s Hogwarts, and there are no rules. Especially not in the Slytherin dungeons. Besides, even if they do get caught by administration, only the kids who organized the party will get in trouble for it. Jimin doesn’t arrange festivities—he just gets invited to them.

“Of course, who do you think I am?” Jimin says with a scoff. He shrugs off his large, drapey robes, laying it down on his bedsheets so only his dress shirt, tie, and slacks remain.

“Good,” Seungcheol says. “It’s not a party without you, Park!”

Jimin laughs. “I just gotta run and do something really quick, but I’ll be back in a flash. Save me some Felix Felicis!”

“Will do, Chief!” Seungcheol calls as he leaves Jimin to his own devices.

Jimin had mentioned the party his housemates were throwing tonight to you in passing, but neither of you had placed much emphasis on it over the past few days. But with the presentation less than twenty-four hours away, Jimin’s getting a bit antsy, desperate to let loose for a little, and he’d love to bring you with him. Perhaps work up enough courage to tell you how he feels about you.

He finds you sitting in the owlery, which may possibly be the furthest place from the Slytherin dungeons you could find. You’re playing with a couple of owls, some treats in your hand as you teach them tricks.

“Hey,” you say, not even looking up as you hear the door creak open. “What’s up?”

“There’s a party tonight in the Slytherin common room,” Jimin says in lieu of a hello. He’s really just trying to get straight to the point.

“Is that why you look all university casual?” You ask, looking up at him. Without his robe on, Jimin certainly looks much less dressy than he normally does.

“Maybe,” he says.

“So? Why are you telling me that Slytherin house is having a rager?”

“Because I want you to come,” Jimin says with a smile, a charming, mildly-sleazy one he hopes will get you off of the floor. “Please?”

“A party? That sounds like the very opposite of my ideal environment,” you say with your eyes wide. “What makes you think I’d want to go?”

“Well…” Jimin says, faltering. You’re right. From the short time in which Jimin’s gotten to know you, parties aren’t necessarily your cup of tea. In fact, they aren’t tea at all. They’re coffee. You’re a tea-drinker and parties are essentially coffee to you. Is he really that confident that he can convince you to come? “I’ll be there.”

“You’re that confident in yourself, huh?” You muse, smiling as you shake your head. “Think I’m gonna abandon my current evening plans just to hang out with you in a dingy dungeon filled with other Slytherins?”

“Yes?” Jimin feels less and less sure of himself as this conversation continues. He definitely went about this the wrong way.

“I’d be the only Puff there,” you mumble.

“No, you wouldn’t,” Jimin quickly responds. “All the houses are allowed to attend. Granted, it’ll be majority Slytherin, but there will be some other Puffs there. I promise.”

“You really want me at one of your parties, huh?” You ask, standing up. In the glow of the evening light, as the sun sets outside, far below the view from the owlery, you shimmer.

“Of course I do,” Jimin says like it’s hardly a question, because it’s not. The fact of the matter is: Jimin wants you beside him. “Just for a little, I swear. If you don’t like it we can leave and come back up here. I’ll sneak us some Felix Felicis. It’ll be a fun night no matter what.”

“If you say so,” you say with a sigh, pulling off your robes so all that’s left is your own dress shirt, tie, and skirt. Jimin doesn’t think you needed to take your robes off just for the occasion, but you look beautiful nonetheless. “Well? What are you waiting for? The sooner we get there, the sooner we can leave.”

The party is already in full swing by the time you and Jimin arrive at the door to the Slytherin common room. Someone’s cast a spell to muffle the noise from outsiders, so as to prevent this thing getting shut down instantly, though the parties almost always end before midnight anyway. The record player in the back has been enchanted to play music louder, though it can hardly be heard over the chatter and laughter in the room.

“Hey, Park!” People call as Jimin walks through the crowd, you close to his side. You’re holding onto his arm like it’s a lifeline, like losing him means imminent doom. Jimin waves to everyone he knows and even a few people he doesn’t, all of whom give you courteous nods of acknowledgement that you’re hesitant to return.

“See, it’s not so bad,” Jimin whispers in your ear as Seungcheol comes up to him with two glasses of Felix Felicis.

“Hey, Park! Is this where you ran off to?” He asks, motioning to you.

“Yeah,” Jimin says. “Y/N, this is Seungcheol. Seungcheol, Y/N.”

You send the smallest smile possible, one Seungcheol returns tenfold. “Nice to meet you. Here, I grabbed the both of you some Felix Felicis. Someone magicked them, so it tastes like fruit punch. Highly recommend!” Seungcheol bounces off, leaving you and Jimin each with cups of sparkling gold liquid in your hands.

“Bottoms up, right?” Jimin asks with a smile and a shrug.

You go along with him, clinking your glasses before downing the liquid. Jimin feels it rush through himself, lighting up his bloodstream. Real Felix Felicis is awfully difficult to brew, and much too valuable to be wasted on a shitty Hogwarts party, so this is a much more muted, cocktail-ed version of the potion, but Jimin swears the effects are all the same.

“Feeling any different?” Jimin asks after a little while. You’ve resigned yourselves to a couch in the corner of the room, away from the crowded center of the party, where the rest of Jimin’s friends are, in an effort by Jimin to make you as comfortable as possible. Not that he minds not being the center of attention—in fact, he quite enjoys just living in his own little bubble alongside you.

“A little,” you respond, leaning against him. Jimin pretends that his heart beats all the same, even if you’re pressed up against him. “You?”

“I’m feeling… lucky,” Jimin muses to himself, turning to you. You blink up, gaze meeting his own. Jimin feels like he could get lost in the sea of your irises, but maybe that’s just the drink.

“Is that so?” You ask, hazy grin plastered on your face.

“I think so,” Jimin says, leaning in. “I think the effects of the Felix Felicis are still there, even if it’s not the real potion.”

“Are you sure about that?” You ask, your lips slowly closing in on his own. He can feel each breath that leaves your mouth as you speak to him, feels the warm air hit his skin.

“Mind if I test my theory?” He says with a muted smile, closing his eyes.

You nod. “Go right ahead.”

Jimin leans in just a little further, eager to press his lips to your own, when, out of nowhere—

“Park!”

The two of you pull apart immediately, jerking away from each other like you’ve suddenly developed phobias of each other. Jimin turns his head to see Joshua strolling up to him. He’s already dreading this conversation.

“You never introduced me,” Joshua says, a little loopy. He’s definitely had too much to drink tonight.

Jimin sighs. “Josh, this is Y/N. Y/N, this is Josh,” he deadpans.

“Nice to meet you,” Joshua says with a bow, nearly toppling over as he does. “Jimin talks about you all the time.”

Jimin’s eyes widen.

“He does?” You ask, confused. You turn to Jimin, who’s already fearful of the direction this conversation is heading.

“Yeah,” Joshua says. “Says he’s real thankful that you’re helping him out with that Muggle Studies project of yours. He wouldn’t get to play in the Quidditch game on Friday if it weren’t for all the work you’ve put into the project to boost his grade.” Jimin can see the liquid luck in his body evaporating. “He really appreciates it all. Gotten all close to you just so he can see if he can muster up a good grade. ‘M thankful to you, too. We need our Chaser.” Jimin turns to you to find a horrified look on your face, brows slowly furrowing in anger. “Well, have a nice night.”

Joshua saunters off, leaving Jimin burning in the ashes as you turn to him.

“Is that it?” You ask, angry, voice certain. He thinks he can see your eyes watering. “Is that all you wanted from me? A good grade? So you could play in your fucking Quidditch game?”

“Y/N, no, that’s not it—”

“Really? Because that’s what it looks like to me. I trusted you, you know? I thought you trusted me, as well.”

“I do, Y/N, wait—”

You get up, clearly fuming, sniffing to hold back your tears. “You know I’ve had a crush on you since third year? Third year! And I was going to tell you after the project was over but I guess I don’t have to anymore.” You fumble in your pockets, searching for something, when you pull out a folded up piece of parchment. Jimin recognizes it as the one from your notebook, serrated at one of the edges. You toss it at him, letting it land at the floor at his feet. “Here. A parting gift.”

“Y/N, wait!” Jimin calls, stumbling after you, but you’re already out of the door in a flash, yellow tie disappearing down the hall before Jimin can run after you. When you’re gone, Jimin’s left standing speechless, like the whole world around him is turning and yet he’s frozen in place. The noise filters in one ear and right out of the other, the party going over his head as he stands there, foolishly hoping that you’ll return.

He walks over to the folded up piece of parchment, leaning down to pick it off the ground. Opening it up, he finds, drawn on it, a portrait of himself, done partly in quill ink and partly in pen ink. It’s of him smiling, his mouth open wide and his eyes crinkled up into crescents, wrinkled at the edges. At the bottom, a note:

Jimin,

You will always be my muse.

Y/N.

Jimin doesn’t realize he’s crying until he sees an angry splotch in the corner, seeping into the parchment and causing a bit of ink to bleed.

Overcome with emotion, Jimin storms over to where Joshua is, lounging on a windowsill with another cup of Felix Felicis in his hands. “Fuck you,” he bites, making Joshua jump back in shock.

“What’s gotten into you, Park?” He asks, frowning.

“Nothing,” Jimin spits. “You’re just a fucking asshole, you know that? You’re a dick.”

“What did I do?” Joshua asks, and Jimin can’t tell if he’s joking or not. Maybe he’s not. Maybe Joshua really did think Jimin was just trying to use you to get a good grade, but that doesn’t make him any less of a giant fucking tool. Regardless, Jimin doesn’t stay around long enough to give a response, storming up to his room and collapsing on his bed, the portrait fluttering to the ground beside him.

If Park Jimin was dreading have to give a Muggle Studies presentation the day he was assigned it, it pales in comparison to how much he truly does not want to give it the day of. You haven’t spoken a word to him since the party last night, barely even acknowledging him as he takes his seat next to you, in preparation for your project. Jimin feels like he’s lost all control of himself, his hair a disaster, face puffy and swollen, friend group a disaster and his crush refusing to speak to him. Not to mention, if he fucks up on this presentation he doesn’t even get to play in the Quidditch game on Friday.

“First up will be... Park and Y/L/N,” the professor says. Jimin definitely did not see this coming.

Slowly, the two of you trudge up to the front of the room, little pieces of parchment in your hands as cue cards, to a couple of wolf whistles from the friends Jimin is trying desperately to distance himself from.

“You may begin,” the professor croaks, pen in hand as he’s ready to take off marks for every little thing Jimin gets wrong.

Jimin clears his throat. He turns to look at you, but to no avail. Slowly, he begins. “The Great Gatsby is a story about a man in an unrequited love with a woman, willing to do anything to gain her favor. But more than that, it’s a story about love and loss, and about a time period in which everything seemed so great, that it became infected with poison.”

Slowly, the ten minutes allotted for each presentation tick by, you and Jimin speaking exactly on cue, like robots. The professor nods every now and then, writing something down here and there on the piece of parchment in front of him as the two of you continue.

“The Great Gatsby is more than just a love story,” you say, quickly glancing down at your parchment for a reminder. “It is a cautionary tale of love, warning readers of what happens when you devote yourself too much to a single person, and what happens when it inevitably fails.”

Jimin’s breath catches in his throat. Is this it? Is that how you feel? Is that what happened?

That’s supposed to be the last line of your presentation, and people begin applauding when Jimin clears his throat, desperate to say something else. “No, wait. It’s more than that, more than a cautionary tale of love.” For the first time in what feels like eons, you meet his eyes. Jimin can only hope you’ll trust him on this, let him have just this. “It reminds us that love can be blinding but sometimes, the passion makes it worth it. It reminds us that love is not a weakness, but a strength. And that sometimes, even if the results are deadly, it’s worth it.”

The room erupts into a soft applause, the enthusiasm of a class of tired, homesick teenagers absolutely electrifying. But, if it’s any consolation, Jimin meets his professor’s eyes, and he earns a nod in response.

After class, the professor calls Jimin up front for a moment. The time leaves Jimin antsy, as he’s desperate to speak to you, talk to you, say something. Explain himself.

“Mr. Park, you did well today,” the professor says.

“Really?” Jimin asks.

“Yes, you gave a very enlightening presentation. Did you learn a thing or two from Y/N?”

Jimin looks up to where you’re standing, gathering your items silently, keeping your eyes trained down. “I learned a lot from her,” he says.

“I can tell. You both received an Exceeds, so good luck on your Quidditch game on Friday,” the professor says. Jimin can’t help but wonder if it’s a grade he received slightly out of pity, but he’ll take it.

“Thank you, Professor,” Jimin says with a bow, eager to leave the room as he sees you doing the same.

“Oh, and Park, one more thing,” the professor says. Jimin turns to him, and the professor simply smiles, sage and wise. “Good luck with her, too.”

Jimin rushes after you.

Unsurprisingly, Jimin finds you in the owlery. Almost like you were waiting for him.

“Y/N,” he says.

“You went off script,” you say in response, refusing to meet his eyes. You’re standing by the window, watching as the winds move the clouds across the sky.

“I had to,” Jimin says, walking over to you.

“No, you didn’t,” you spit. “You wanted to. Because everything is what you want, isn’t it? I know that we got Exceeds. Congrats on your Quidditch game.”

“Y/N, please. It’s more than that,” he begs, reaching down to take your hand in his own.

You pull it away, turning to gaze into his chocolate eyes. “Is it, Jimin?”

“Yes, Y/N. It is,” he pleads. “Admittedly, I was happy to hear that you might be able to help me get my grade up but that wasn’t why I hung out with you, or asked you to show me the owlery, or taught you how to fly a broom. People always talked around about how strange and peculiar you were, but I knew that you weren’t weird. You were just different, and my friends are fucking assholes. I’m sorry for that.”

You turn away.

“Y/N, please, look at me. I did all of those things because I wanted to spend time with you. I shouldn’t have taken you to the party, though, I should have just spent the evening with you. I wanted to tell you how I felt about you, but I never got the chance. Y/N, you’re my muse.”

You turn to look at him, finally letting him capture your gaze. “Do you mean it?”

“Of course,” Jimin says. “I’m sorry for all of this. I just—I just want you.”

“You have me,” you whisper, sniffling slightly. Jimin swears he can feel tears welling up in his eyes as well, but he blinks them away.

And finally, after ages of waiting, of Jimin trying to muster up the courage but then chickening out, after days of dealing with his shitty friends and spending his hours up here in the owlery, he leans down and presses his lips to yours.

It’s a soft kiss, nothing deep, nothing angry, but passionate nonetheless. It feels like warmth blooming inside of him, from the inside out. Blossoming like the flowers in spring. You hum contentedly to the feeling of his lips on yours, and suddenly, everything feels alright.

When you part, Jimin can’t help but press another kiss to your nose, and then your forehead, your cheeks, and the corner of your lips, each light, feathery touch making you giggle. You settle in for the night on the cushions, letting a few owls roam about the room, speaking in hushed whispers of a future for the both of you.

“I know you said you’re not really a sports person,” Jimin begins. “But my Quidditch match is on Friday and I’d love it if you’d come. Not like, as my girlfriend or anything. Unless you want that.”

“Are you asking me to be your girlfriend, Park?” You tease.

“I’m also asking if you’d come to my game.”

You giggle, pressing a kiss to Jimin’s nose. This feels right. “Yes and yes. I’d love to.”

Friday afternoon, the bleachers are shaking from students, Hufflepuff and Slytherin filling up the stands as they watch their house teams play in the first game of the season. And even from all the way up there, as Jimin weaves in and out of the other players, tossing the Quaffle through one of the rings to score another ten points for Slytherin, he spots you standing in the bleachers, a girl in yellow amongst a sea of green, and he grins.

#jimin fluff #jimin angst #bts fluff #bts angst #bts scenario #jimin scenario #bts imagine #jimin imagine #bts au #jimin au #bts hogwarts au #bts hogwarts #jimin hogwarts au #w: boats against the current #i: crave death

[mooleche]

A Story of Ink and Venom - Chap. 5

A/N - Someone wicked this way comes! Some new revelations revealed and Nina is tasked with an important request after some distressing news! There are some french translations in here that I’m not quite sure how to post on here so if you’re curious to know what they say I can make a separate post to explain what they translate to! As always I hope you enjoy and if you’d like to be tossed onto the notifications list lemme know! 

Tagged - @leo-writer @master-sass-blast

Chapter 5: Preparation

I dreamt of blood.

Of tendons snapping and muscle being torn in two.

Heard the inescapable screams of terror in a void of nightmares that had me tossing and turning all night.

Then I saw them again. Those milky white eyes that narrowed as they set their sights on me, soon replaced by a gaping maw full of jagged teeth that were ready to tear into my skin like it was paper.

Then I woke with a small, terrified gasp. 

It was just a nightmare. This is what I had to tell myself as I stared at the ceiling and tried to calm my racing thoughts. My heart continued to pound and my clothes were damp with sweat from my troubled sleep. But the longer I laid there the more aware I became of my surroundings. A soft melody weaved in and out of my hearing and the hues of blue and pink of our hanging lights danced in my blurred vision. It was noticing this that I was finally able to release a sigh of relief as I was able to remind myself of two important things:

I was home. And I was safe. 

Beside me, the bed creaked and I turned my head to find Ava sitting cross-legged by my curtained window, hand over her mouth in serious concentration as she stared at her laptop screen. I made the effort to sit up and felt my entire body seize up with pain.

“Ah, she awakens,” her husky morning voice announced beside me as a groan of pain escaped me. I struggled to make the minimal effort to turn to her, only to be met with her hand that held my glasses and a bottle that she rattled at me.

“Drink up, Princesa. You’re gonna need these for the day ahead,”

“You’re a lifesaver,” I murmured as I accepted and downed them graciously. They could have been horse tranquilizers and I wouldn’t have cared, the pain that my body felt as I sat up had me almost wishing I was still facing those nightmares. Just the brief thought of reliving them made my stomach churn though, and I quickly tried to ignore it and press through the pain instead. 

I slumped over on Ava’s shoulder and sighed, a small chuckle escaping her as she carefully moved a piece of hair away from my face.

“Surprised you’re even awake right now, you outdrank all of us,” she teased as I held my head, now fully feeling the effects of my terribly thought out decisions last night. That was right, we had drunk last night to calm our nerves. Despite being desperate to escape the conversation we spent almost all night talking about it. Ava and Benni assured me the news hadn’t caught wind of my participation that they were aware of, only that there had been no bodies at the scene. 

That alone left me both relieved and terrified for Spiderman and whatever remains were of Deadpool.

If there were any at all.

I shook my head sluggishly to rid myself of the thought before looking to Bambi and Benni who were haphazardly sprawled along Bam’s bed, still very much unconscious.

“Why are you awake?” I asked Ava groggily, taking every motion delicately as the room continued to spin. 

She raised a brow at me and smirked.

“You think a little booze is going to cause me to break schedule? Pfft, I’m Latina, bebita. But also,” she added, pointing to the floor and frowning, “You really need to answer that thing. It’s been going off since 7.”

I went to ask her what she meant but then I heard it. The low rumble of my phone vibrating against the carpet. At that moment my hangover was completely disregarded and pain tossed aside as I slid to the ground and fished for it desperately. Ava watched me, perched from above, curiosity now wrinkling her brows as I found the source to the buzzing and curled into a ball to suppress the pain. 

All I could muster was a soft ‘oh no’ when I saw what was on the lock screen. 

Ava inched closer to me to try and sneak a peek as I continued to stare, not daring to unlock it to see what fresh hell was waiting for me inside. "What's going on?"

A soft 'oh' left her lips as I showed her. A handful of messages and mixed calls littered the screen, the fear you only felt when you missed 10 calls from your mother when you were a teen hitting my core as I swiped it open.

Only this fear was brought by missing the calls of my mother, father, AND Renato.

I swallowed hard and scanned the messages. All worried, all sent at various times during the night and this morning:

‘Honey, we just saw the news. Are you alright?’ ‘You’re not picking up. Did something happen?’ ‘We’re very worried. Pls respond!’ - Mom

*‘Mon chéri? Nous sommes inquiets pour vous’ ‘Appelez s'il vous plaît’ - Dad

‘Are you home? -R’ ‘Nina? -R’  ‘Look. I know you’re still recovering from last night but something has happened. Come to the lab ASAP. -R’ ‘Again, it’s URGENT. -R’ ‘Also, call your parents. -R’ - Renato

My gut twisted further with guilt as I read various texts from them all, but the last few from Renato worried me the most. It was sent almost half an hour ago and my imagination was going in every direction it could with what could have happened.

He rarely sent texts out to people, even when it was an emergency. What if something happened to him? What if that thing came back for it’s missing piece? What if it pulled an Alien and created a Chest Burster inside of him?? 

I had to go and see what was going on. 

I uncurled myself from my position before releasing a groan of discomfort, moving from one awkward position to another as I attempted to summon the strength to get up. It didn't work. Lying half off the bed beside me Bambi began to stir.

“Nina? What’s going on?” she yawned, rubbing her eyes as she unshifted from her own awkward position to sit up and watch my staggered efforts. Benni gave a soft snore next to her but remained still. I was fully convinced that we could have dropped a bomb on the city and she’d have stayed asleep during it.

“I have to go to the Professor’s office. Something's wrong,” I winced, finally finding my footing and attempting to poorly stretch to try and subdue the pain. While it didn't do much to help with it, it did help me understand where the source was. I tenderly touched my side only to recoil back as the shock of pain it sent. It was almost exactly where I had landed after the creature had flung me, bringing a series of uncomfortable pictures to my head before I could shake them away.

“What?!” Both Ava and Bambi asked in unison at my announcement, watching me shuffle awkwardly to my wardrobe that had seen better days. Bambi was now wide awake at this point and stood to meet me, a heavy frown set on her once pouty lips.

“Please tell me you’re not going, especially after last night-”

“Last night is just as much my issue as it is Renato’s, Bam. Who knows, maybe he just found out something interesting about that gunk,” I tried to reassure both her and myself as I began to rummage through my clothes. We were assigned two wardrobe closets to a dorm at the beginning of the year and expected to fit all of our belongings inside. While Bambi had somehow made hers always look presentable. Mine was everything but, and I now struggled as I attempted to rip a cute yellow hoodie with ‘Good Vibes’ written in a cute font across the front out of its clutches for the day ahead.

I succeeded, only to fall back and have a mess of clothes topple onto me in the aftermath. Both Ava and Bambi shared a look of worry before Bambi knelt down to help me.

“I just...think it’s kind of bullshit he’s calling you in after everything. Especially with that,” she added as she pointed to my midriff, shirt now raised some to reveal a nasty looking bruise that had formed overnight. Underneath lurked a nastier looking scar from past events that I quickly hid and looked away, suddenly very aware of my flaws.

“Bambi, *déjalo!”

“Sorry, I didn’t mean-”

“It’s fine,” I managed quickly, not wanting to mention it any more than it already had been. Like a monkey's paw suddenly sensing my wish to change the subject we all turned to my phone that had begun to vibrate again. Ava, the closest to it, studied the notification before her hazel eyes grew wide. “What is it?” I asked hesitantly as she stood and quickly closed the distance between us, holding my phone at arm's length like it was a bomb.

When I saw who was calling it might as well have been.

It was my father.

“Oh no, no. Can't you just like...I don’t know, tell him I’m sleeping??” I asked desperately, a snort erupting from her as she held it closer, holding me captive against the wall now.

“You really think I’m gonna pull off lying to your dad? Get real,” she hissed back while swiping over the green telephone emote to accept the call. I pursed my lips angrily in response, knowing she had me at a stalemate before I accepted the phone in defeat.  "Ante up, bebita, you're on." she mouthed quietly as she and Bambi stood nearby quietly to listen. Even Benni's once peaceful snores were gone from the room as I prepared to completely BS my way through this conversation.

“Bonjour Papa!” I chimed into the receiver, knowing full well the I had just stepped into the lion’s den and had to be very careful about what was said. My father was as smart as he was strong, and the man had won a plethora of heavyweight titles before he retired. I had to be smart about where the conversation would go.

“Nina,” he started, dad tone already in full swing behind his heavy french accent. “We’ve been trying to get ahold of you all morning, *est-ce que tu vas bien? We saw the news and-”

“Oh right, the news.” I interrupted, clicking my tongue with thought as Bambi and Ava watched with wide eyes. I ignored them as I continued to search for the rest of my outfit in the mess I had created. “Wild stuff, right?”

“You didn’t get involved, did you?” he asked point-blank, my insides squirming as I pretended to scoff at his words.

“Me? Get involved? C’mon dad, *Avoir une certaine foi!” I grunted while struggling into a pair of leggings. He grunted back in response.

“I just worry, mon petite. Because reports say that a small mystery hero came in at the last second,”

“You don’t say,” I asked softly, hoodie stopped half over my body at these words. I wanted to curse. Sure, the news hadn't been able to record anything of my failed attempt at heroism, but I hadn't even thought about bystanders that might have seen.

“Oui, and she seemed to be wielding a hammer. A big black hammer that fell apart right after using it,” he pressed, my nerves getting the best of me as I scrambled to find proper words to say. “You sure you weren’t there?”

“Of course not." I started, tugging at my hair nervously as I began to feel myself ramble. "I-I was studying with the girls during the lock-in! Do you know how many superheroes are in New York? In Brooklynn for that matter? Do you really think I’d be dumb enough to take on that thing? Hah! Hah! You’re so funny, papa. Oh? What’s that? My phone is dying and I need to leave? What a very strange coincidence!” I laughed a little too loud into the phone, walking nervous circles in the room as Ava and Bambi watched with embarrassed stares.

“Nina-”

“I really gotta go, I did nothing wrong, ever!” I answered hastily before hanging up, pulling my hood over my face to hide from the heavy looks the girls were giving me. “Please, no commentary.”

“Smooth,” Ava whispered dryly as I shrugged and tossed my hands up in the air, immediately racked with another bout of pain. I struggled to shrug it off, instead focusing my attention on gathering my belongings to leave for the day. As I went to grab my bag I stopped, sheets of my old weapon schematics poking through that brought me back to the day before. I shook my head of the invasive thoughts wanting to pry through and removed them, knowing I had no business trying to use any of them anymore.

Behind me, Bambi took a seat on my bed and tugged at her sleeves nervously.

“You’re really not going to tell them?” she asked softly. The question made me stop abruptly and turn to her, disbelief in my eyes. 

“Do you want to explain to them how they almost lost their only child while she was out playing hero?” I shot back quickly. I knew she meant well, and I knew that this would most likely end up biting me in the ass at a later time. But I also had to keep this a secret from them until it was all figured out, there'd be no point otherwise.

Especially if it meant putting them in danger.

“That’s...fair,” she agreed quietly after a moment of silence, Ava joining her side on my bed as they watched me scramble to shove my clothes back in my wardrobe. “Do...you want some company with Renato?” she offered, but I could see the fear in her eyes of having to face that moment again. Of having to go back to the labs and seeing what could possibly be another nightmare waiting. She had suffered just as much as I did and I didn't want to force her through it again if she wasn't ready.

Instead, I shook my head and feigned a smile.

“It’s fine, I’m going to Renato’s and then straight to Drawing 2 after. I’ll pick up your SD card for you while I’m there though, yeah?”

She looked relieved at this and nodded. “You’re a lifesaver, Neeners.”

“I know it,” I teased before grabbing my helmet and sauntering out of the door. Before I could leave fully my phone went off. Inside a simple text from Benni read ‘Be careful!’, but when I looked to the bed she was still as motionless as ever and dead to the world.

How did she do that?

“Aye, keep us posted!” Ava shouted through the door as I left, a soft sigh of relief escaping my lips as I headed outside. Truth be told it was a bit of a relief to be away from them. All the worried looks, the fear we had all felt hanging like a miasma in the room. I needed to get away from it all, to escape briefly so I could think.

Outside storm clouds loomed above, threatening to release hell down on the city at any moment. I hurried to Queen and took off before I was the unlucky duckling to have to experience it and, to my surprise, the street that had once looked like a warzone the night before was now pristine. Even the dark stain I had been haunted by on the way home was nothing more than normal black asphalt now. As much as people complained about where our tax dollars were going I had to give it to the city restoration committee for always being on point. They made it look like nothing had ever happened and, for a brief moment, I believed that.

Before I could enjoy the momentary peace of mind I was given I was already at work. My hands gripped my key card tight as I hurried to the door, trying to brace myself for whatever might be waiting for me inside. Instead, the door opened as I went to swipe and Barry stared at me, eyes wide with surprise as he saw my face.

“Miss Knight? What in the world are you doing here?” 

“I wish I knew. The professor called me in,” I explained shortly before scooting past him to sail down the stairs. I stopped abruptly at the last step, hearing the harsh tone of Renato’s ring through the air. I had never heard him so angry, not even when I once accidentally almost broke Levi's aquarium by playing with one of my ink balls in the lab.

Another voice, a strangely familiar voice this time, now spoke in a deep yet desperate tone.

“Darwin please, we may have had our differences before but this...this could very well save lives!”

“I’m not going to tell you again. This is a dangerous subject and it has no place in the medical field. Leave the premises or I will be calling the police. And don’t you ever, ever use that name again.” he growled. My surprise and curiosity were through the roof at this point. Who could strike so much anger in such a simple man that would lead him to talk like this?

I had to know.

“Knock, knock.” I chimed softly through the sliding doors, as if I hadn't just been eavesdropping just moments earlier. My eyes immediately fell on the stranger causing the ruckus and I couldn’t help but manage a small gasp at who I saw. It was the janitor from last night, the man that had sent chills down my spine with just a simple question. “A-am I interrupting something?” I stammered, trying to keep my composure as his gaunt appearance glared at me before looking back to Renato.

“I was just leaving. I hope you sleep well at night knowing you work for a monster,”

“Well, I’m in college, so your first mistake was thinking I sleep at all,” I responded a little too sarcastically, a small grim chuckle leaving the man’s throat as he knocked shoulders with me on his way out. His demeanor had changed completely from the man I had seen just moments ago, once slumped shoulders now broad, all frailty from him diminished as he turned to face Renato once more with a dark stare.

“It was nice seeing you again after all these years, Professor. Remember, I did try to play nice,” he called before exiting the lab, leaving a heavy silence in his wake. I blinked in surprise, unsure if I had just been tricked into seeing two different people or if that man was just that good at changing his personality. 

I turned to Renato who's brows were furrowed and was staring angrily at nothing in particular before I attempted to break the ice.

“So, who’s your friend?” I asked carefully, watching his eyes flicker up to me and narrow at the assumption.

“Never friends. We were hardly even colleagues,” he muttered as he began pacing, running his hands through his once neatly ponytailed dreads. They now fell over his face and shoulders as he stood hunched over his desk, fuming. “I knew something was off about that man, why didn’t I see it sooner?” he whispered to himself, fully immersed in the conversation in his head.

“Uh, what?”

“How could I have so foolish? Of course, I was being watched...how could I have known he would go to this level though? Stupid..."

"Renato?"

"If he gets his hands on this...dammit!” he hissed before slamming his fist on the desk angrily. I flinched at the action before snapping my fingers at him.

“Hey! Earth to Renato, bring it back down to Earth!” I called, watching him snap from whatever stupor he had previously been in. Looking up close at him now he looked exhausted, like he hadn’t slept at all. Under his lab coat, I saw now that he was wearing the same clothes he had worn when I left last night and it finally clicked. “Did you stay here all night?”

“I...well, yes,” he admitted sheepishly before he took to rubbing his chin, looking at nothing in particular like he was deep in thought. We stood in silence for a few moments before I touched his shoulder, confusion rapidly growing in my head that I was desperate to get explained.

“Hey, are you going to explain what’s going on or…?”

He seemed to slip back into the moment and sighed, pulling off his glasses to clean them anxiously. “Right. Sorry. I was hoping to give you a day to rest but...something happened.”

“So you said in the text. What is it?” I asked suspiciously, fear creeping into my voice before I could stop it. He took a large sigh before pressing his palms together and directing them at me with somber eyes.

“You have to promise that you’ll let me explain before you get upset,” he started, looking down at me with a gaze that turned serious within a few seconds. My stomach gave a quick twist of fear at this. It was suddenly very apparent that whatever that substance he had was no longer within sight, which made my thoughts run wild with worry.

“What did you do, Renato?” I asked gravely, watching him hesitate before starting towards the fish tank. My gaze hardened as I noticed it was now covered with a dark sheet, a sheet that he now removed to reveal a lazily wandering Leviathan in the water. I released a sigh of relief, a piece of me fearing the worst for the little crustacean. 

That was before it turned its sights on me at least.

It was like I had been tossed into a sci-fi horror flick. Its skin went from its usual beautiful maroon to a horrific pitch black, it’s size growing into something grotesque before he began to slam against the glass. Renato steadied the tank before tossing the sheet over it once more and it's furious attempts to leave grew silent. I stood in terrified silence trying to process what I just saw, hands quivering at my sides as Renato turned back to me and managed a weak unsure shrug.

“What, pray tell, the everloving fuck was that?” I finally managed to whisper as he started back towards me, hands shoved deep in his lab pockets as he seemed to ponder what to say to me. I took a step back from him, my gut suddenly unsure of how I felt about being around him. His gaze looked hurt at this but he kept his distance as if nervous I would run if he got too close.

“I suppose I deserve that…” he whispered before I scoffed, tossing my arms up in the air with a sarcastic laugh.

“You suppose? That guy was right, you're a damn monster!"

“Nina please, your language-”

“Do not start with me over that,” I snapped, folding my arms, ready to hear what excuse he had ready for what I had just seen. "Explain. What the fuck happened when I left?”

He sighed and nodded softly, giving up on arguing.

“Right. So, you left, and I had been engrossed in researching this creature. It’s quite a find, Nina, it’s DNA is incredible. So incredible in fact that I found it had regenerating cells and I…” he trailed, taking his glasses to fiddle with them as he spoke. “I saw a window for experimentation and I took it.”

“On Levi? But why? You know what that thing can do!” I protested, his features dark with thought.

“I know, trust me, I know. I thought...maybe a smaller dose wouldn’t have the effects of its original host, that maybe it could reverse his health,” he admitted, a look of weariness taking over him. “It did do that but it also turned him into what you just witnessed.”

“And how does your friend tie into this?” I asked grimly, nodding towards the door. He scowled at my use of friend but sighed wearily.

“As I said, he’s an old colleague...from a different time. Back...when I worked for the government,” he explained quietly. 

I blinked in shock. 

“You did what for the who now?”

“I was a scientist for a special research program briefly after college with the close colleague of mine I've mentioned, along with the man you saw earlier. He went by Oliver Phobus, though I’m not sure if he still goes by that name…” he trailed as if thinking hard into the past.

I couldn't believe he wasn't sharing this information with me. I could barely get him to reveal what his favorite juice was on store runs half the time much less a look into his past like this. I decided to press my luck and prod further.

"Why is that?"

“Oliver was, well, is a desperate man. His forte used to be finding cures to uncommon diseases, often taking devious measures to get to his answers if it meant a breakthrough.”

“Such as?” I pressed, curiosity growing by the second. He pursed his lips before continuing, a look of discomfort falling over him as if not wanting to answer.

“He did many experiments on...people...terrible things,” he whispered, my mouth growing dry at his words. His eyes grew dark at the mention of it, like he was reliving the experience as he spoke. “As soon as we found out we made sure he was removed from the program, but soon after he and his family left without a trace on where to find him. And then today…” he sighed, fist resting on his chin as he recounted what happened. “Today I was trying to take a sample from Levi and he came in and saw. He saw what Leviathan had become and I know he’s going to come back for him.”

“You think he’s going to come back? You told him you were going to call the cops!” I reasoned, a grim chuckle erupting from him as he stood once more and started organizing things from his desk. 

“You underestimate the level of desperation he’s at,” he answered shortly before hunching over his laptop, body stiff as he began to clack away at the keyboard. I shifted nervously, still trying to process all the new information given to me. Renato called him a desperate man but didn’t he just commit his own messed up experiment in the name of science? But also to hear he experimented on people, it left a bitter taste in my mouth. That strange smile he presented to me the night before now seemed all the more devious and caused a shiver to run down my spine at the thought of it. Renato at least seemed ashamed of what he did.

Phobus just seemed like a mad man on a mission.

“So...what will you do now?” I asked softly, my gaze traveling back to the tank that stood silent now despite the uproar that had just happened. Just remembering the glimpse of black tendrils slithering out and the sheer anger it seemed to have when it saw me...it made me not even want to be in the room.

Renato sighed as he turned back to me and folded his arms.

“This is where it gets tricky,” he began, frown settled deeply on his lips at what he was about to say. “My work, Levi specifically, can’t stay here any longer. I’ll be alerting the proper authorities of what’s transpired but I need to get him somewhere safe before I do so. Can't exactly have them seeing what he's become without it turning into a worse situation than it already is,"

“Fair enough,”

“What I need from you is just to stay here and keep guard while I travel home to get the proper equipment to take him to my colleague's residency. There we can do some proper testing, maybe see if we can reverse this-”

“You want me to do what?” I asked incredulously. Above us, a warning of thunder rolled past, a feeling of unease taking hold of my gut at his request. Here he was, dropping a complete bombshell on me and expected me to just roll with it like it was no big deal? I shook my head and held my hands up in disagreement. “Professor…”

“I wouldn’t be asking if I wasn’t desperate, Nina. You're one of the only people I trust with this,” he admitted, placing a hand on my shoulder with a look of sheer exhaustion. “I know you’re unhappy with me right now. I know I made a bad decision, but I can’t let him have this. He’s a dangerous man and I don’t know what he’ll do with the information or what could happen if-,”

“If he gets ahold of this, right,” I sighed, not wanting him to finish the terrifying thought that Levi could very well transform into some terrible if given the chance. Or even something worse happening if someone was able to manipulate that DNA. Inside every fiber of my being protested this request, but deep down I also knew all too well that sometimes you had to make the hard decisions that you really didn’t want to. I just wished it wasn’t me in this scenario, especially after the first time had already gone so wrong.

Renato was desperate by his standards though, and he had stuck his neck out for me so many times in the past year that I lost count. It was only fair I repay him for it.  

I just hoped it wouldn't bite me in the ass later.

“Alright, I will watch Levi until you can make it back. I have a class soon but I can skip if you need me to-”

“Not necessary. I’m already in enough hot water, I don’t need your parents blaming me for you missing class,” he joked softly before his demeanor changed. “You did talk to them last night, didn't you?”

“Define talk and last night,” I smiled sheepishly before laughing nervously at his sour appearance. “Relax, we spoke briefly this morning. They know nothing so I’d like to keep it that way,” I admitted before glancing at the clock and frowning. “Shoot. I’ve gotta head out but I’ll be back at around 6, is that too late?”

“6 is perfect. I’ll have everything ready for when you return so we can make this quick,” he added before pausing and looking at me with a soft frown. “Are you sure you’re up for this? You can say no, especially after everything that’s happened last night.”

“I’ve already made my decision, haven’t I? What’s the worst that can happen anyway? It’s just some science nerd that probably won’t even show up tonight, right?” I joked, trying to hide my own fear by making light of the situation. Renato gave me a weary smile before heading to his desk to get to work, brows creased with uncertainty at my words.

“I suppose you’re right, I'm probably just being careful about this. Just...be ready, we’ll discuss more when you return,” he concluded, setting us on our separate ways until the big night ahead.

Despite him trying to be reassuring about it a part of me knew that it wasn't going to be that easy.

Things were never that easy.

#long post #oc shit #marvelsona #venomsona #oc x colossus #slow burn #y'all grammarly decided not to work halfway through so #forgive ya boi

[stillness-in-green]

Salt-Sweet Curse (5/?)

The backstory drops.  (Also, it’s a good thing they’re both immortal, otherwise letting Toga drive would probably be what we’d call a bad idea.)  

They fled west out of Kyoto, avoiding at Shigaraki’s insistence any of the major roads.  The stolen car (and the body in the fields outside the city) might attract some attention eventually, but it was better than being on foot, even if Toga’s knowledge of driving was closer to a memory of having seen it done than anything resembling practical experience.  

Shigaraki sat hunched down in his seat, hood up, stewing in his thoughts while Toga jerkily got the hang of braking and acceleration.  She left him to the brooding, sometimes concentrating on the drive, but more often keeping up a stream of chatter that required no input from him whatsoever.  

He stared out the window, thoughts a black tangle of doubt and dread.  

It wasn’t the first time he’d had his life—if you could call what he had now a life—saved by someone. It wasn’t even the first time someone had saved him from All for One.  But this time felt different, somehow.  Like it was more than some spirit’s whim, or a would-be good Samaritan act.  Like Toga had been with him long enough to know he wouldn’t have done the same for her if their positions had been reversed.  She had to have seen him try to run, had to know that if he could have, he would have, no hesitation.  

She should have known better than to think I was worth it.  She should have known better than to risk him.  But how’s she supposed to know that when I’ve just been fucking around with question and answer games instead of telling her?  

What the hell am I even supposed to tell her?  Dammit. Goddammit.  

The pain at his neck was distant, a sensation so familiar he might as well have been born with it, his violent scratching rote as a habit and ineffectual as an overused drug.  He didn’t even realize he was doing it until Toga reached over and lay her hand over his.  She’d gone silent, eyes narrowed, and when his hand went just a little slack with surprise, she interlocked them all the tighter, fingertips pressed against his palm, her other hand tight on the wheel.  

“…If you want to talk about it, I’ll shut up for a while and let you,” she said at last.  

I’ve never seen her like this before, he realized, the thought numb, an observation more than a realization.  He huffed out a breath, a poor approximation of his usual disdain.  He turned away from her, pulling his legs up into the seat.

“Concentrate on driving,” he whispered.  

She patted him on the shoulder before pulling back her hand, but she didn’t go back to talking.  The silence rolled out like the road, bright and empty and damning.

He closed his eyes—licked his lips, curled in on himself tighter.  

And then he told her everything.  

---   ---        ---   ---          ---          ---   ---        ---   ---        

He found me a few years after I first turned.  There’s not much that’s coincidence with him, but I think that was.  He used to have a manor down on the Inland Sea—maybe he still does.  He likes being able to transform back and forth, so he lives in places that make it easy.  

I hardly knew anything about what I was back then.  He took me in.  Told me he could teach me what I needed to know about—all this.

He’s a criminal. He always has been.  I didn’t care about that—the whole world’s full of criminals, and most of them are running the place.  I just knew at least he wasn’t going to up and die on me.  

I lived with him for a long time.  He used to say he liked having a protégé around.  I don’t know what he even thought he was going to do with me, once he’d decided I’d learned enough.  Maybe try to post me somewhere, expand his influence.  

But then we found out…

Your camouflage thing—the way you change after you do the whole blood-drinking bit.  I can’t do that.  He can’t, either.  That’s just you.  Everyone with this curse has something like that, and they’re all different.  His is his healing.  We all heal, but his is on a different level.  His willpower—no, his sense of self, it’s…  

Eat something’s heart and you gain its power—there’s lots of stories that say that kind of thing.  But him, his power, it…  He can extend his consciousness into people when they drink his blood.  It drives everyone who does crazy in the end.  They always feel like they’re being watched—because they are.  And there’s nothing they can do to get rid of it, to make it stop.  I once watched someone put his head down and run straight into a wall to make it stop.  

…No.  The mermaid curse doesn’t always take with him.  I don’t know why.  His blood’s too greedy to give up its power or something.  

He used to have an enemy, a long time before he met me.  I don’t even know long ago—ancient Japan, maybe.  He never told me who it was; he gets a kick out of being the only one in the room who knows things.  He used to say that an enemy’s not really defeated until no one but you can remember them anymore.

He fought whoever it was for decades.  And the enemy finally beat him—put a sword through his gut and carved out his heart with their bare hands.  They’d tried sealing it, they’d tried burning it, and he always came back from that.  So that time they tried eating it.  

Three days later, he opened his eyes inside his enemy’s own body.  He walked out of his enemy’s house and watched their servants burn his old body. It’d stopped healing, there wasn’t anything left in it—he said it went up like dry paper.  

He’s changed bodies lots of times since then.  There’s all kinds of ways you can get someone to eat your heart, if you lay the groundwork right.  

---   ---        ---   ---          ---          ---   ---        ---   ---      

“So what’s he want with you?” Toga asked, eyes on the road.  

“My power,” Shigaraki answered, empty-voiced, watching telephone poles roll by outside.  “…I don’t have to eat.  He doesn’t, either, not really.  Same as you.  But for you two, if you tried to go for too long without, your bodies would eventually shut down.  You wouldn’t die, since we can’t die, but you’d gradually stop being able to move, even being able to stay awake.”  

It had been another tactic one of Sensei’s enemies had tried, this time when Shigaraki had been with him—still as Tenko back then.  They’d been captured and separated, split up and kept in separate cells, ofuda and clippings from sacred trees hanging up in every corner.  It had gone on for almost half a year; the world Tenko could see outside the tiny slit near the ceiling had turned, slowly, from spring to fall.  

“That doesn’t happen to me. If I don’t eat, I just get used to being hungry.  It doesn’t knock me out.”  

He’d probably gone mostly crazy, feral with first the hunger, then the loneliness.  His memories from back then were some of his patchiest. But then Sensei had come, finally, a satisfied smile on his lips, along with a story about a kind but foolish new housemaid.  

They’d set the enemy’s estate on fire and watched, afterward, from the top of the road as it burned to the ground, all its exits sealed.  And Sensei, breathing in deeply of the smoke and the screams on the wind, had asked Tenko in a cheerful voice who he’d charmed so, that they’d kept feeding him that whole time.

And Tenko—stupid, naïve idiot Tenko—told him that no one had fed him, not once the whole time. Why?  Sensei, were they starving you too?!  

He could still remember the furious indignation in his own voice.  That and the thoughtful look in Sensei’s eyes as they made the long journey home.  

The outside deck, floorboards shining.  The ocean wind teasing salt through his hair.  The far-off screams of the gulls.  Sensei, talking to a servitor on the other side of the door. 

“He will be the next ‘me’.”

Shigaraki bit his tongue against the memory, tasting the salt-iron bitterness of his blood.  “He absorbs the powers of bodies he steals. He wants mine.”  He spat the blood out, a brief dark patch against his jacket that faded quickly into the black.  “One less weakness to spend eternity with.”  

“So you ran away?”  

“Yeah.  Since, before you ask, no, it’s not a viable way of killing myself.”  

He’d run away that very night.  Back then, he still hadn’t been ready to die, but even now…

All for One cried in his sleep.  He wept, sometimes cried out, slurred words in accents different from the one he spoke with in waking hours.  It wasn’t him, wasn’t Sensei, doing the crying; that realization, when it came, had prickled Shigaraki’s skin and twisted his stomach with disquiet.  

Those people that cried in the night were the bodies’ original owners.  They were still watching from behind their own eyes, like the people that Sensei’s blood drove mad, but for years on years, decades on decades, and not even able to escape into death like the others, not until he was finished with them.  

I just wanna die. What he wants to do to me is so much worse.

“Ew.”  Toga’s nose wrinkled.  “I wasn’t gonna ask that; I don’t want you to die, Shikkun.”  

Shigaraki stiffened in his seat at the words, the familiarity.  So easily…  

The silence bloomed back into the car like dye spreading through a glass of water.  His heart hurt.  He curled in on himself again, turning away.  It hurt, and he was so tired of all of this bullshit, and now there was Toga, and she was still so young that she could say things like that, not even knowing that words like those were worse than her knives.  

And unlike him, Toga had to eat, which meant more of a trail.  And All for One had seen her now.  He had a whole other face to track.  

A whole other…

“Toga,” he said into his elbow.  

“Yeah?”  

“Find us a gas station. We need to get a roadmap.”

---   ---        ---   ---          ---          ---   ---        ---   ---      

I'm not going to say that All for One's enemy was All Might, and taking that enemy's body turned All for One into a horrible funhouse mirror of One for All, moving from body to body and absorbing strength as he goes, yet never losing his own malicious will? But I'm not not going to say it, either. *AU jazz hands*

As for Shigaraki, Decay is frankly too OP for this story, which features only sporadically useful supernatural weirdness rather than cool superheroic powers. I still wanted him to have something that tied him to his canon self, though, so I went with a twist on the superhuman levels of endurance that Shigaraki's displaying in the most recent arc of the manga.

I’m nearing the end of the big gotta-write-it-now ideas I had for this AU of @codenamesazanka’s when I first started.  Here’s hoping I can still write my way to an ending!  

#boku no hero academia #my hero academia #shigaraki tomura #toga himiko #my writing #ficcing #salt-sweet curse #bnha

[coffee-n-some-cream]

Fair is Foul - Chapter 6: Child, the Innocent and Helpless Monster

There is one place in our Meridiana home that I rarely care to be. Behind a steel-enforced, bolted door, stairs spiral downward, falling and twisting into the dark. My footing is always sure, but down these stairs, my mind involuntarily wonders if my next step will plunge me into an abyss. And with each touch of shoe sole to stone step, the walls echo, announcing my every movement. Down these steps, stealth is impossible for all but Data 7. José purposefully built it that way. He inherited his paranoia from Father. He inherited most things from Father. Usually, as I descend, I walk softly; overtaken by the habitual need to remain unheard, unnoticed. But in this moment, my stride is unchecked. My breaths come heavy and loud. And the passage of every step is accompanied by the steady, wet thump of the enormous severed head I drag behind me.

“José!” I bellow, my voice deep as the cavern I enter. Something I inherited from Father.

I am given no answer, but I can hear him clanking about in that makeshift laboratory, that underground, shameful example of his own childish rebellion. And when I reach the bottom of the stairs and stand in the entrance, I see him. Manic with energy, he pours over notes in a writing pad too large for him to hold in one hand, checking and double checking the settings on his equipment, the samples under his microscopes. All the while he mutters, frantically to himself, his little hands balled into enraged fists that swing out to smash and destroy various scientific paraphernalia. I have seen him like this before. I have seen him like this far too many times.

“José.” My voice is no longer loud, but it is every bit as threatening.

He whips around to stare at me, his eyes wide and glossy. Then his gaze drops to what is clutched in my hand. “You killed it.” He raises his fists at me. “You killed my most promising creation! You stupid bitch!”

My entire body is worn, but my anger flairs strong and new. I throw the head at him. It flies toward him at a devastating speed and he dives out of the way. It slams into the desk behind him. The wood shatters into splinters. Yellow and hairless and oozing green blood all over the laboratory floor, the severed head of José’s monster is bigger than him.

“Your most promising creation managed to destroy three buildings and kill at least eighteen people! Crocodile skin? 360 degree vision? That monster was a juggernaut! It took me an hour to—”

“Monsters are supposed to be powerful!” he shrieks. “Shut up!” He reaches inside the hollowed desk and lifts the monster’s head with ease, twisting it back and forth to examine it.

“At least Father only builds monsters he knows he can control.” There is a bitter taste in my mouth.

José scoffs at me. He hops up onto his stepstool and plunks the head down on the bowing shambles of his desk. “Yeah, he’s doing a great job of controlling me.”

My fingers pull at and run through my hair, pulling it further into my face. “Your little experiments are costing money, lives, and my own honesty! I should have reported your rebellion to Father years ago.”

“Then report me!” He whips around, and I think I see froth lining his lips. “Report me! Do it!”

My hands shake, and I can’t explain why. “You are a monster, José, and monsters deal in—”

“Fuck you! Blathering on about your ‘monster mantra.’” He turns back around and begins to violently tear the flesh of the head asunder, scooping pieces of tissue and samples of fluid into glass vials. “Monsters need, and only that, monsters are content with what we have, and only that, blah blah blah. It’s all bullshit!” He rips an entire ear off the head and tosses it into a bin. “You’re just a pathetic cunt and I’m not! I do what I want!”

I shake my head, though he can’t see it with his back to me.

*

I discovered the laboratory mere weeks after he moved into our home. I noticed his frequent excursions to the basement, but never cared to know what a vulgar little brat like him was up to. Until one day, I saw Data 7 watching the door with his ears back, waiting for me. And I ventured downward to investigate.

“What the hell do you think you’re doing?” I asked, standing amidst the laboratory that was like Father’s in countless ways, but was somehow simultaneously nothing like it at all. There were those white lights, there was that cavernous freezer, there the bubbling tincture, there the bloodied slides, there the newly cleaned needles. But Father’s whispered lies of professionalism, of normalcy, the monstrosities and severed extremities tucked away in glass cases and neat cabinets and pristine drawers. His laboratory was a pristine work of interior design meant to serve dual functions of scientific pursuit and boasting. José’s laboratory operated on no such pretenses. The stereo blasted profane rock music over the scattered bodies and haphazardly scrawled notes. The air was thick with the stench of chemicals and rotting flesh. Dried blood mingled with grime on the stone floor and scraped against my heel. The equipment was a cobbled together monstrosity of wires and spare parts. This was the office of a budding madman, a grotesque stumble into a world that greater men had already mastered.

He looked so very small amidst it all. My hands shook then as well.

Father never knew, not from me nor anyone else. “Don’t let a Techno find this,” I ordered and pleaded all at once, only to receive a scoffed “Obviously.” “Don’t let this be a problem for me,” I ordered and pleaded all at once, only for his lip to curl. I turned to go, nauseated by the stench, but some unexplained ache staid my feet. “Father can’t know,” I ordered and pleaded all at once. I thought for a moment that the look he turned on me was respect.

*

“Yes, you do what you want, always what you want, but what does that leave me?” My hands spread to regard the monster’s head. “Cleaning up your mess, like a mother cleaning up after her child’s playtime! Every monster, every failed experiment becomes my problem—”

His face twists into a puckered approximation of my own, and his voice lilts to mock mine. “Oh, am I not being considerate? Am I not paying you the mind I ought? Am I to be more careful, lest you be saddled with my laboratory mishaps, mother?” His face relaxes back into its usual sneer. “That doesn’t sound very monstrous, does it? Leave me the fuck alone.”

I stride forward, reach around him, and yank him off his feet by his front collar. His throat produces a strangled, shocked sound, and his toes twitch about for footing as they dangle over his stepstool. His hands reach up to find purchase on mine, and my nose is less than an inch from his when I hiss, teeth bared, “I am not your mother, nor your maid. Next time, you slay your own monsters.”

I drop him back to the stepstool, and his hand falls into a pool of green blood when he reaches back to steady himself. He snarls at me. I can already hear the string of profanities ready to burst from his mouth, and I know if I stay one more moment to witness his immaturity, I will do something entirely satisfying, yet entirely regretful. I turn on my heel and storm upstairs, his curses echoing up the stairs after me.

Data 7 watches me march from the basement and toward the nearest window with bemused interest, not bothering to rise from his napping spot by the windowsill. I fling open the double doors of the window with such force that the glass shatters against the wall, and then I leap into the night, abandoning my usual care and caution. I only hear the faintest whispers of his screeching temper tantrum chasing me on the wind. I run and leap from rooftop to windowsill to flagpole to fire escape, the simplicity of José’s selfish behavior burning the blood in my veins and the air in my throat, and all the while I rant and rage to myself, releasing every caged, harsh word into the chilled evening air. I rampage across the Meridiana skyline, tearing the cinderblock with my fingers and my throat with my malice. And eventually, when I land on the building of my high school, I’ve spent every drop of ferocity in my heart.

The night is moonless and the city lights consume all starlight, transforming the sky into a blanket of pitch black ink so thick I can run my fingers through it, so viscous I can open my mouth and swallow it. I drop to a crouch at the edge of the school rooftop, disguising myself as one of the gargoyles, and I wallow in pitiful frustration.

*

José arrived in a sleek black Volkswagen, accompanied by a guard of two Fixed Ideas and a Techno, and with no prior notification of his arrival. I knew the moment he stepped through our doorway, with his reminiscently styled black hair, tucked shirt, and sharp-eyed stare, that he was nothing but Father’s carefully crafted fly on the wall – one that would look, speak, think, and act precisely like him. I said much the same thing to Data 7, who released a heavy huff in agreement.

And from that moment on, countless times in a row, José proved us both wrong. Undeniably, he walked in Father’s footsteps, and for the first few months, this familiar persona made me believe I had been right.

Then, one morning, a Techno let us both know that Father would be calling sometime today with a message of great import, of utmost urgency, and we were to be present and ready at any time of the day to receive his call. I stayed in all day, and José dared not wander too far from the phone, lest either of us receive a reprimand. We waited, and we waited, and we continued to wait until well into the evening. Eventually, we both sat on our satin, poorly cushioned sofa, the telephone on a small table in front of us, and silently listened for the telltale ringing. We waited so long that José fell asleep. And I watched, unable to move, as José’s head slid down and came to rest comfortably on my shoulder.

I could have moved. I could have shaken him awake. I could have shoved him off and forbidden him from such familiarity ever again. But as I watched him sleep, the drool dripping from his mouth and onto my elbow, the way his hand curled into my cape, I couldn’t bring myself to do any of those things. I tried to imagine Father making a mistake like this. Father, unwillingly drifting into vulnerability. Of course, I couldn’t.

Data 7 wandered into the room and caught sight of us, my perfectly still acceptance and José’s jarringly relaxed and childlike figure. He blinked at me once, a slow, understanding gesture, and then moved on. I tipped my head back and took a deep breath, my chest tight.

José walked in Father’s footsteps as a child stepping into their parent’s snowscape footprints. Clumsily, stubbornly, and without much understanding of his destination, his legs too short to make the same strides, his feet to small to fill the footprints.

He slept against my shoulder until dawn, and when he awoke, he shoved himself away from me and left in a flurry of disgust and denial.

*

The tips of my fingers are chilled through when I lift them to worry at my lips. From where I sit, I spot a light on in one of the school offices. The yellow glow illuminates a tousled approximation of an office, strewn papers and littered pencils destroying any hope for professionalism. And amongst the ruins, there is Lucas. His spine curves uncomfortably as he sits hunched over his too-small desk. One hand runs through the papers stacked around him, the other runs through his shaggy mop of golden hair. A pen is tucked behind his ear. My mouth twitches into a smile as he searches his desk, then pulls another pen from a drawer.

I shame and chide José for his selfishness, I bicker and snap and snarl, and yet I cannot bring myself to quell his misdeeds, his desires. I cannot even begrudge him for them. I simply cloak them from sight, a mother robin covering her chick with her wing, shielding them from the watchful hawk, from the prowling feline. I desperately shush his childish squalling, lest those with less sympathy take matters into their own hands.

José was right, in a way. If I wished to put an end to his behavior, I could simply report him to Father. And yet I fail to make good on my threats, every time. Perhaps I am too sympathetic. Perhaps I cannot bring myself to see a child, be it an innocent or a vulgar, impudent brat, squashed under the unforgiving heel of my Father’s authority. Or perhaps I simply cannot bring myself to deny José his sliver of humanity. Perhaps I am Cyber, and I could never deny another their rebellious desires. Their wants. As much as I deny myself.

As much as I deny myself.

In the office below me, Lucas runs his hand through his hair again and knocks loose the pen that was nestled behind his ear. I can’t help but chuckle, warm and low and wet. He shakes his head and stoops to collect it, then goes right back to his papers, diligent, focused. I breathe deeply to soothe the swelling heat behind my breast.

As much as I deny myself.

I think of Lucas’ downcast eyes as he spoke of the man, the one whose life leaked from my hands. I think of how much I craved, in that moment. I think of José’s glossy eyes and furious demands. And I think of José, nothing but an ornery child. I think of how he craves and writhes and grasps at his desires.

As much as I deny myself.

I leap from my perch, gliding through the ebony ink of the night in one graceful arc, and land on the ledge by his office window. My hands are shaking. My breath is short. I am freezing and burning all at once. But inside, Lucas is lit up in warm swatches of yellow and amber by the glow of his desk lamp. I reach out, and with one frozen fingertip, I tap gently against the windowpane.

AO3

#my writings #fandom writings #ao3 #cybersix #au #fair is foul #jose von reichter #gore #but it's pretty light on that so #light gore

[bobbyseyesmile]

What am I to you? PART 11

Time for you to pay a visit to your old demons. You know that they could tear you apart and drag you down into the same hell you escaped years ago. 

But luckily there are still people who would never let you down and help you willingly to cope with all the bullshit that’s going on right now. 

But even if you could help Jooheon and save him from another night in jail, could you also save your fucked up relationship? 

GENRE: A lot of angst, fluff and smut at the end, seriously it’s just drama  TRIGGER WARNING: Mentioning of violence, abuse, drinking, murder

Changkyun knew.

He knew everything about the shit that was going on the last weeks. He had known for years that you and Jooheon were in love with each other, but both too afraid to confess first. He also noticed when Wonho grew more attached to you, developing feelings and pay way more attention towards you then any other girl.

At this point, he’d also knew that shit was going to get heated.

When Jooheon suddenly changed and ignored you an the boys, Changkyun had also known that Jooheon discovered Wonho’s feelings for you. And oh boy, now the shit was boiling.

Chankyun and Jooheon were best friends since High school, both of them hard shelled, but soft cored. The two boys were so close, they could read each other minds by just exchanging knowing looks. Jooheon talked only to him after his very weird behavior, and told him about you and Wonho holding hands in that cafe.

Changkyun liked Wonho, he was funny and a caring hyung, but at the same time he was a total fuckboy and sometimes very very arrogant.

He did understand Jooheon’s feelings, all this anger boiling inside him, he was just concerned that Wonho would hurt you just as bad as he hurt many other girls before by just ditching them after a steamy night.

And you were naive. A cute, friendly and warmhearted person, but so fucking naive, sometimes Changkyun wanted to yell at you:

“NOT ALL PEOPLE ARE GOOD PEOPLE, Y/N!”

But he never did it, because you would have probably cried, and he hated it when you cried. You were like a little sister to him, the girl he saw transforming through puberty, to transform from a shy little thing, into an amazing and strong woman. I mean, you were still somehow innocent and sometimes too prude, but that was okay, it was you after all.

After noticing that you responded to Wonho’s attempts, he grew nervous and very angry.

Yes, he grew angry at Wonho, not you, because you couldn’t know about Jooheon’s feelings, you were just desperate and exhausted from loving your best friend who didn’t seem to notice what you were feeling.

But Wonho knew. He knew that Jooheon liked you, he knew that he was too afraid to confess, afraid that he could ever hurt or disappoint you. Wonho knew.

But still he flirted with you in front of Jooheon and the other boys. Still, he stroked your arm or tickled you whenever Jooheon was around.

He did all that to provoke him, to show him:

“I can have her whenever I like and I’m not going to chicken out.”

And you, little naive girl, didn’t notice. You didn’t noticed the looks Jooheon gave you, you didn’t noticed all the pain and anger in his eyes or how he grew slowly but surely distant towards you.

You just didn’t noticed it. Because, finally there were someone who gave you all the attention and love you wanted from only one person: Jooheon.

“What a big fucking bunch of shit.” Changkyun mumbled to himself while sitting in his car, driving to the location you gave him minutes before.

He really wanted to help you. To get his best friend out of this fucking cell, to pay the fucking bail. For fucks sake, he just wanted to fix the group again.

He barely talked to Wonho because each time he saw him walking around the campus, he wanted to punch him for being free, but not his best friend. He wanted to scream at him for being such an asshole and sneaking Y/N away from Jooheon! He wanted to kick this fucking smirk from his face for... For just everything.

Changkyun wanted his group back. His best friends, all together in Shownu’s apartment, watching stupid Horror movies that Minhyuk had picked and then panicked every time something scary happened. Hyungwon would sleep on the couch, the movie just too boring for him. Kihyun would roll his eyes every time a character would do something stupid like walking into a room and asking if anybody was there while the murder was clearly behind them. Shownu would grin at Kihyun’s sassy comments and Wonho just laughing whenever Hyungwon started to snore a little bit louder.

Changkyun and Jooheon would sit on the other couch, the only two actually watching the movie while Y/N is sitting besides Jooheon, her head on his shoulder or in his lap because she fell asleep.

Then, everything would be normal again, just like in the good old days. But no, right now he felt like all this was just a really bad written drama by some poor script writer.

“Thank you for accompany me...” you said, already in Changkyun’s car after he picked you up a while ago. The first minutes remained silent, no one spoke a word, he just nodded when you opened the car door and got inside. 

“Sure thing.” he mumbled back and pushed his long bangs out of his face. “I don’t really get why you need to see your father, I mean, after all the things I heard about him from Jooheon...” 

“What did he told you?” you asked, now curios about how much Jooheon had revealed about your family. 

“I’m certainly sure that he didn’t told me everything, just some fragments of the whole story.” 

“Hmmm...” you hummed and Changkyun shot you a quick side glance. 

“But he said that you’re father is a complete asshole and that he... did very bad things to you and your mom.” 

“Well...” you sighed and put a strand behind your ear. “He’s right. The things my father did... and the things my mother covered for him... I don’t really refer to them as my parents, you know.” 

Changkyun shifted in his seat, while he stopped at a red light, and then turned his head in your direction. You faced him and saw all the concern in his brown eyes. Changkyun was the kid who seemed stern and tough, sometimes cold and a little bit too harsh, but you knew that behind this stern facade was a cute and concerned boy. 

“What things are we talking about, Y/N?” 

Should you tell him everything? The times when you tried to cover all those bruises and scars, when your black eye was just another “unfortunate coincidence” and teacher called you the little clumsy Y/N. All those mornings when you stepped in class and all the other kids stared at you because of your swollen and ripped lip and you mumbled something like “I fell” and they actually believed you, everyone believed you. Except Jooheon. 

Jooheon knew where those bruises came from and promised you to free you from this hell. He held his promise. 

“My father abused us.” you said and for a quick moment Changkyun’s eyes widened. You turned your head and nodded to the traffic light. “It’s green, Chan.” 

An awkward silence hovered in the car and you bit the inside of your cheek. Maybe you shouldn’t have said that. But the silence broke when Changkyun suddenly spoke.

“Wait...” he began and then squinted his eyes while he concentrated on his thoughts. “So all those clumsy accidents weren’t actually accidents? Are you telling me right now that you lied to us for years? Whenever you came to school with a broken arm or other things, it was your father who abused you?” 

“Well...” you shrugged your shoulders. 

“Well? Well?! This is all you’re saying?” Changkyun stopped the car and looked at you with a shocked expression on his face. 

“Chan, I couldn’t talk about it back then. Jooheon knew and he helped me trough it. My mom wasn’t there for me, my father abused her too so she couldn’t take care of me... when Jooheon found out about it, he told his parents and I practically lived at their place for a few weeks. Later my grandparents arrived, moved here and raised me. My father is an alcoholic, he’s just a bad person, you know. But it’s years ago and I’m pretty good at not thinking about it. ” 

“Wow, I-” he sighed and pushed his hair back once again “...and we just thought you were the clumsiest person on the whole planet.” 

“I mean... I’m really clumsy.” you smiled and his lips curled into a small smile too. 

“Alright... where lives this prick?” 

“SNPW- Seouls National Psychiatric Ward.” you answered without batting an eye and he hissed while starting the car again. 

The last time you stepped inside of this building was now five years ago, a long time, you thought to yourself. It had the same white paint as always and those yellowish fluorescent lights. It didn’t look creepy or fucked up as all these spooky asylums in horror movie, it was more a hospital than an actual ghost castle with flickering lights and cold breezes. The only creepy thing was, that your father sat in one of those rooms at the moment and breathed the same air as you.

The woman’s face, who sat on the desk in the front, turned from a professional smile into a shocked expression when she herd the name of your father. Oh yeah, this was the normal reaction everyone had when hearing this name. She stammered some sentences like “...I have to ask first...” and “I don’t know if that’s possible, Miss...”

After you showed her your ID she became even more flustered and grabbed the telephone next to her while she dialed a number. She seemed nervous, biting her nails and lips while she spoke for more than ten minutes, explaining the whole situation while she eyed you from the side. 

“O-Okay... It’s been allowed since you’re his d-daughter... An officer will pick you u-up...” 

The officer appeared minutes later, dragged you into a security room where Changkyun and you were examined if there weapons or other deadly stuff. After the examination you walked to the elevator and went to the very last floor deep under the earth.  

“Hey, Y/N...” Changkyun whispered while you two walked behind the officer. 

“Huh?”

“Who exactly is your father? I mean, why did we need to got checked at the security section and why the fuck is there a officer who guards us?!”

You bit your lip and exhaled deeply before answering.  “Ever heard of the National Psychiatric massacre?” 

The officer glanced you a stern look before turning his head to the front again. Changkyun went pale and nodded. Of curse he knew, everyone in Seoul knew about it. Maybe even the whole continent or the whole world knew it... 

“No body contact, no smoking and no talking in another language.” the officer explained after you stopped in front of a grey door. You nodded casually, already knowing this rules. 

The door opened and the first thing you saw were those huge police officers on each side of the room. They just stood there and watched an elder man in a white straitjacket. He looked old, worn-out and his skin had an grayish shade what made him look like a 90 year old and not a man who was in his forties. But somehow his hair was still full and had the pitch black shimmer together with a few grey strands. His jawline was sharp, stubbly, but all in all he didn’t look bad or unattractive. 

“Hi dad.” you said and he lifted his head. The dark eyes sank in yours, they still had this attentive and menacing reflection in them. 

“Y/N.” he murmured. Somehow you expected a weak and scratchy voice, but no, his voice was strong but at the same time soft.  “Please, take a seat.” 

He nodded to the two chairs in front of the table and you walked over to him. The two officers eyes never left Changkyun and you, watching everything you did with the biggest attention. 

“I should probably thank you for this sudden visit.” Your father spoke and you snorted. 

“Why? Because you can leave your cell for a few minutes?” 

“Well, better than nothing.” he shrugged his shoulders inside the jacket and then smiled. “You have to acknowledge the little things in life.”

A cold shudder ran over your back and you inevitably shivered in your seat. Changkyun’s hand grabbed yours and squeezed softly, hoping that he could give you at least a little bit of support. 

“Dad, I’m here because I have a really urgent problem and-”

“How’s your mother?” he suddenly asked and leaned back. You inhaled and stared to the ground while thinking of the right words. Fuck it, you thought and said the first words that came to your mind. 

“She died three years ago. Pulmonary cancer.” your voice was calm, maybe a little bit cold. But the truth was, her dead didn’t affected you that much. She was never a mother to you, even Jooheon’s mother was more a mother than her. 

“Sorry to hear that.” the man in front of you said. “Okay, okay, sorry for interrupting. So back to your urgent problem. What’s so urgent that you have to visit me for that?” 

“My friend... Jooheon, do you remember him?” 

“The boy who was even cooler than Tupac? He wanted to become a rapper, right? He lived in the apartment block on the other side of the street.” Your father smirked and you giggled.

"Yes, the little Tupac-boy, how you always called him... Well... he’s in jail right now...” 

“What did he do?” 

“It was self-defense.” 

“I didn’t asked that, Y/N. Do you think I care if it was self-defense or not? What did he do?” 

“He... beat another college student nearly to death.” 

“Hm. Why?” 

“Because of me. He saved me.” You gulped and hoped that he wouldn’t dug even deeper. But somehow he understand what you meant and just nodded. 

“I see. So okay, jail. Go on.” 

“I need money for his bail...”

“Is he your boyfriend?”

“Kinda?” you said and heard Changkyun snort. “So there’s this account with savings for college, right?” 

“Your mother told you about it?”

“Granny told me. But she said, that you’re the only one with the access to it... and that I would need a password from you...” 

“Does Nana know that you’re here?” he asked and raised an eyebrow. 

“Of course not! Her heart is weak enough...” you mumbled and played with your fingers. 

“There’s 60.000 on the account. After I got arrested, our company got pledged and the surplus went into that account.” he explained and pursed his lips while staring at you. “I can’t use the money... I’ll probably never be released after all I did plus I was never a good father so... You can have it.”

Now it was your turn to raise an eyebrow.  “Where’s the snag?” 

“Bring Nana here. I want to see her one last time.”

“Dad, I-” you started but he cut you off and leaned forward. An officer pushed him back in the chair and he growled in annoyance.

“Y/N, bring her here and you can have the password.” 

“Dad... Nana’s in hospital. She can’t leave it! And Grandpa is always by her side, they can’t come. Both are too weak for that...” 

His lips trembled but he remaint silent for a good minute.  “The password is Nana’s hometown plus Grandpa’s conscription date.” 

“This was easier than expected, huh?” Changkyun rubbed his neck as we walked outside of the building. “I didn’t know your father was the massacre guy...”

“I never told anyone. Only Jooheon knew.” you sighed and stared at the building one last time. 

“How are you feeling right now?” he asked and you shrugged your shoulders. 

“I don’t really know... I want to cry and scream, I mean I hate this man so much, but on the other hand, there’s just nothing left for him. I’m not even sure if I really hate him...” 

You turned your face and caught Changkyun’s eyes. He was still shocked, you could tell that. Well, who wouldn’t be shocked if one of your friends father was a crazy psychopath and murder?  The moment you heard the news about the massacre, you froze right on the spot. Your Grandma in the kitchen, cooking dinner, totally unaware what just happened. You remembered storming in the kitchen, turning the radio off and seeing her flustered face why you did that. 

Of course you couldn’t kept it as a secret from them, but you tried because you didn’t want to see your Grandparents heartbroken. Nana sobbed so loud even neighbors heard it and since that day she had never spoke a word again. She turned mute and you knew it was because of her broken heart and all the pain that her only son murdered a dozen of people in one night. 

On that day something died inside her and inside your Grandfather. You tried your best to be there for them, support them, trying to heal their inner wounds. 

“Y/N?” 

“Yes?” your voice suddenly broke and you realized that you cried. Changkyun embraced you in a hug and so it happened that you stood in front of this building, hugging each other while you silently cried in the arms of your friend. 

“Let’s go to the bank and then we look for this damn family lawyer. The faster we are, the faster Jooheon escapes the damn cell.” 

You nodded. He was right, this was priority no.1 now: Freeing Jooheon. 

But the strange feeling in your chest didn’t fade... and the thought, that meeting your father, was one of the biggest mistakes you did. His face would haunt you again, his voice would follow you in your sleep. 

And you would feel every punch, of his fists, again. 

“My head hurts...” I groaned and leaned my head against the cold stone wall.

“Maybe then you should fucking sleep. It’s... Okay, I don’t know how late it is, but I’m sure it’s late.” the guy, opposite of the wall, groaned and I snorted.

“I can’t fucking sleep.. The bed’s too hard and it’s cold...” 

“Okay princess, calm down.” He grinned and sat up on his bed. “This is a jail, not Disneyland. Of course it’s cold and the beds are too hard, do you really think the nice officers out there care? No. For them we’re just dirty scum who had done bad things.” 

“Hmmm...” I mumbled and closed my eyes once again. I really tried to sleep, but I tried so hard that I became a headache, also my brain wouldn’t shut up...

I thought about Y/N... Where was she at the moment? In the dorm? At her apartment? Was she with Wonho?  I groaned again when I suddenly imagined them together... but it would be much better for her if she was with him. He would prevent her from doing stupid stuff, he would prevent her from getting hurt...

All the things you couldn’t do, dumbass... 

“Fuck...” I mumbled quietly, the guiltiness hitting me harder than ever before. What did she said before? That she would come back?  I hoped it was a bad joke, she should just live her life, study, partying, meeting new friends... She shouldn’t waste her time with me.

“Lee?” a deep voice suddenly called and I sat up in bed. “Lee Jooheon?” 

“I’m here.” I called back sleepy and the officer stood in front of the cell, eyeing us a few seconds before he nodded. 

“Alright. Come with me please.” he said and unlocked the cell door. 

“What? Why?” 

“Someone paid your bail.” he explained and nodded impatiently.

I looked over to the guy I’ve spent the last days with and he smirked.  “Congratulations buddy. Don’t worry, you will make it trough the trial.” 

I nodded back and told him the same before stepping outside of the cell.  “Excuse me but, who paid for the bail?” 

“A young man in your age.” he responded and led me trough a long corridor. “And a young girl.” 

“What?” 

Y/N? Could it really be? Was it really her who came back?  After a small walk we finally reached the office and a few people stepped outside. The first one I saw was Changkyun. He smiled and nodded in my direction and I smiled back. How I missed this brat, even if it was just for a few days. 

“You look like shit.” He said and I laughed. 

“Maybe the first in forever that you’re right.” I shot back and hugged him. 

The second person was Y/N... she stood behind the officer and smiled in my direction. I let go of Chan and hugged her even harder than ever before.  

“Thank you...” I whispered and she hummed in agreement. “Thank you so much.”

“We should go now. I left the boys earlier without an explanation, so we should hurry back to the university.” 

Y/N and I agreed and filled some documents for the bail and my temporary freedom. Ugh, I won’t miss this damn building and the cold cells... but we’ll see if I need to come back or not... 

“See you in trial.” the younger officer said and nodded one last time before we exited the building.

On the way home they told be about everything they did today. Looking and visiting Y/N’s asshole father, the bank account and the family lawyer who’s going to be my lawyer for next week. 

“All this for me?” I asked while laughing, but Changkyun caught my eyes in the rear view mirror. He didn’t say anything but I could hear his thoughts. 

Of course for you, dumbass...

“You’re more important to us than you think, Jooheon.” he simply said and Y/n nodded in agreement. “Where should I drop you?” 

“My apartment.” I answered quickly. Y/N turned around and stared at me for a few seconds. She looked confused.

“You have one?” 

“Yes... I... uh... I inherited an apartment last year.” I explained while rubbing the back of my head. It was true, I really inherited it but the problem were the persons I got it from... 

“You never told me.” Changkyun squinted his eyes in the mirror and I only shrugged my shoulders. “From who?” 

“You know... Some friends.” His eyes widened and he shot a quick glance towards Y/N but she didn’t noticed. He knew what I meant...

“Oh yeah, silly me. I forgot.” he laughed and Y/N raised her eyebrows now. 

“I don’t know what’s going on with you two right now but... don’t shut me out again, Jooheon.” Her beautiful eyes looked confused and also concerned, she was right, I did shut her out too many times, but this time it was for her own safety. 

“It’s alright, don’t worry.” I smiled at her but she didn’t returned it. She just sighed and leaned against the window. 

I caught Chan’s look in the mirror again and saw that he mouthed only three words: 

Don’t tell her.

“So... this is really your apartment?” She asked when we entered trough the door. 

“Yep.” I answered and turned on the lights. It was clean and proper inside, I didn’t came here very often. It was more a means to an end.

“It’s nice.” She smiled and I smiled back, suddenly feeling nervous. Why was I nervous? My hands felt sweaty and cold and my cheeks hot. Ugh, what’s wrong with me? 

Get yourself together, Jooheon... 

Y/N noticed it and her smile widened. “What?” 

“I.. uhm...” 

“You seem nervous.” she giggled. “I remember the times when I was always nervous around you... Like, I couldn’t even talk properly or concentrate on other things.” 

“Did it change?” I asked and raised an eyebrow, suddenly anxious over her answer. But as soon as she shook her head, my lips curled in a smile again.

“It will never change.” She simply said and turned around for the kitchen. “Let’s cook, I’m starving.” 

“Alright.” I smiled and the teenage boy in me fainted when I looked at her in my kitchen. Could our future ever be like that? 

We ate and watched some movies, but to be honest, the movies were just for the background noises. Truth was, we talked for hours and she told me about today and her father. 

“I can’t believe that you really met him... For me! This is so sick...” 

“It wasn’t that bad, really! I was just glad that Changkyun supported me.” 

“Yeah, I’m really thankful... I’m glad you weren’t alone.” I took a sip of my cola and she nodded. “But why Chan?” 

“Why not?” she asked confused and I shrugged my shoulders.

“I was just curious. I mean, you could have asked someone else too, right?” 

Y/N smirked and took a sip too.  “Wonho?” 

“I really didn’t meant that, okay! It just sounded like I implied that...” I coughed and Y/N started to giggle while snuggling against my shoulder. 

“Sure.” 

My hand searched for hers and caressed the soft skin, while I drew small circles with my thump against it. The whole situation felt so normal. Something we hadn’t felt in a very long time... 

“From now on...” she began and I turned my head to look at her face. Y/N just stared at the floor and gulped. “...tell me everything, okay? No secrets or lies anymore, I want to know how you feel and what’s going on. Otherwise, I’m not saving your ass again from jail... The next time you lie or hide things from me, I’m going to kick your butt back in that cell.” 

I laughed and pulled her on my lap. Y/N tried to look stern but as soon as she pouted, I laughed even more. 

“You’re so cute.” I pecked her lips and she hit my chest. 

“I’m serious Jooheon! One more secret and I-” 

“You what?” I whispered against her lips while pulling her closer to my chest. She shuddered but leaned a little bit away from me. 

“Then I’m going to leave... I can complete my studies in other cities too...”

“Are you serious?” I pulled back and looked at her in shock. She just nodded and I sighed deeply.

“Alright. No more secrets.”

“Promise me?” she whispered and I nodded. 

“I promise you, to do everything for your safeness and not leaving your side again.” 

“Good.” she smiled and pecked my lips, but before she pulled back, my arms slung around her back and deepened the kiss. Y/N moaned quietly and her hips grind against my bulge. I bit her lips and she hissed in response while slowly moving up and down. The kiss became messy, tongue and teeth involved, biting and licking on each others lips before she suddenly pulled away to take a deep breath. 

Her eyes met mine and I saw how her pupils dilated. I swallowed hard.

“Take off your clothes.” I ordered and she jumped off my lap to pull the shirt over her head. “Everything.”

I watched how agonizingly slowly she opened her bra and then, also slowly, pulled the pants off her smooth legs, all that without breaking her sight of me.

“Faster baby…"  

I grabbed her hips as she stood before me, completely naked now, but she pushed my hands away and knelt down.

"You don’t have to do this…” I said and she bit on her lower lip.

“I know but… I want to do it…”

I closed my eyes as she opened my jeans and ghosted her fingers over my boxers. I imagined too much about her small lips around me… As she began to suck, I choked on the air in my lungs and let out a breathy moan. She seemed pleased with my reaction because suddenly I felt her giggle around me. The vibrations sent me nearly over the edge.

“Shit, Y/N…”

She couldn’t fit everything in her mouth but her hand moved up and down in the same rhythm as her lips. I knew that I couldn’t last any longer and my hand softly tangled in her hair.

“Baby, I’m very close… If you don’t want it… you should stop now… fuck…” But instead of listening, she speed up the tempo and after a few seconds, I finally came in her mouth. My head flew back and moaned her name while she smiled at me in satisfaction. I pulled her on my lap and captured her lips in a needy kiss, I was needy to feel and taste her. To feel her smooth skin under my fingertips, caressing the soft skin, loving her all night long.

Y/N moaned in my mouth and I held her face between my hands when she suddenly started to grind on my lap. I could feel her wetness on my bare skin and my fingers slid down her front, over her breasts and the sensitive nubs, her navel and finally her hot spot.  

“So wet though I haven’t even touched you yet?” I laughed quietly and guided a finger inside her. She whimpered softly so I took a second digit and searched for her sensitive point while I turned my fingers and massaged her tight walls.

“Are you this wet because you sucked me off, huh? You like sucking me off, Baby?”

“Oh God…” she panted as I found the magic spot and pushed hard against it. I liked that she had no control over her body and mind, she whimpered and begged and it was only for me. Oh, how I’ve missed it.

She was close, I could tell, so I pulled my fingers away. She gasped indignantly but before she could complain, I entered her painfully slow.

“Jooheon…” she mewled and I bit my lip at the sound of her. We were alone, I wanted to her her beautiful moans and whines. She moved her hips to the rhythm and my hand tangled in her hair once again, but without pulling them.

Our eyes met between the thrusts and suddenly she smiled and it felt like my heart exploded that moment… I missed this cute and careless smile of her.

“What, baby? Do you love it?” I asked and she nodded while on of her hands held on my shoulder and the other caressed my cheek.

“Yes… I just missed you so much.” she cooed and I moaned in response.

“How much?”

“So much that I thought I’m going crazy…”

I felt how close she was, her walls clenching around me, softly squeezing my length. The rhythm was still slow, there was no rush or harshness, just two people who loved each other in the most delicate way possible.

“Jooheon, I’m close…” she whispered and closed her eyes.

“I know… Me too.”

I pulled her even closer, chest on chest and kissed her lips deeply. She opened her mouth for me and our tongues grind slowly against each other. Y/N moans were swallowed by me and he nails digged in the flesh of my shoulders as she clenched even harder now. My thump searched for her clit, drawing small eights around the sensitive nub. Seconds later, followed my small whimpers, she came and I followed just moments after her. My thump never leaving her clit and she whined and begged for stopping me. I smirked at pulled away and she collapsed on top of me. 

“God…” I whispered, her head dropped on my shoulder. “I think you can tell now…”

“What?” she asked tiredly and I stroked a few strands from her sweaty forehead.

“How much I missed you, too…”

#monsta x #jooheon smut #what am i to you #im sorry for this #its basically angst and shit #lee jooheon #wonho smut #shin hoseok #monsta x smut #monsta x scenarios #monsta x reactions #monsta x fic #jooheon fix #monsta x incorrect quotes #shownu #hyunwoo #wonho #minhyuk #kihyun #hyungwon #jooheon #i.m #changkyun #monbebe #monsta x monbebe

[margueriteafra]

Here, for old time’s sake

April 2017

“So, why here? Why this city?”

I couldn’t help but smiling a little when he threw me the question. I thought, would he, among dozens of long-lost friends I barely keep in touch with in the recent years, understand?

“Frankly, I don’t know,” I replied.

He chortled in disbelief. “You don’t know?”

I shook my head as I pursed my lips into a thin smile, perhaps hiding the actual words that could make it easier for him to know how I felt, if only I had chosen to spill them out.

“So you don’t even have any plan about what you’re going to do here?” he went on.

“Not even a little bit.” Again, I shook my head. “I just wanted to spend some hours in a train ride and the only destination that I could think of was this town.”

He nodded and hummed as he picked up his glass to drink the hot tea. When he put it down, he went to retort his idea about my sudden four-day trip to the town where he spent his university days in.

“So, is this trip—you know—kind of what they call as an escape? Like Eat, Pray, Love or something?”

I laughed, clearly in love with that idea. Might as well call this short journey as my version of Eat, Pray, Love, I thought. Except that it was much, much, shorter in time. And that I didn’t eat that much, I didn’t do ritual prayers (I have my reasons), and I wasn’t looking for love. 

I was, in fact, running away from the latter. 

It was barely two weeks before I stepped on Yogyakarta’s soil; the day when I suddenly realized that some parts of my life were crumbling down. I did not even have any idea about how I felt or what I wanted at that time. I wasn’t even sure of myself and I kept asking, have I done the right thing? Is it good for me, for us? Am I being selfish?

Perhaps, for long, deep inside I already know that I (we) have been standing on a rather shaky ground of relationship. My feet have been trying to keep my balance in between two worlds: mine and another world where feelings implicated my world. The latter is where you are. Or now I should say, were.

For some time, every time I had people asked me “how are you? Is everything fine?” I always answered with “Yeah, so, so. I am fine.” It came to a point where I asked myself, am I really okay? Did I say so because I did not know what I truly feel?

Or is it because I know that I am not okay, but I just don’t know what’s wrong?

Such questions kept nagging me for months until the day of our breakdown; when that “little” fight pushed you to pull the trigger, shooting me (us) with a bullet made of unspoken feelings that you’ve been hiding since only-God-knows-when. Everything just erupted back then.

(I should’ve realized it much sooner that you’ve been keeping the gun near to you every day in the last couple of months before we ended.)

I remembered there was so much anger mixed up with guilty feeling and sadness as I kept thinking to myself, is long distance relationship really a bullshit?

When we first started this relationship, both of us knew the consequences. We told each other that we would make it through, that we could make it work. Despite the circumstances, we were very optimistic that we could still support each other this way.

That we would always tell each other everything and talk about our problems, to find solutions and fix them together.

So, why, after years, all of our problems and fights seemed to still revolve around it?

For a whole month, days passed by in silence. I tried to reach you, but you seemed so far away. No texts, no calls, you just disappeared into thin air and there I was; blaming myself as I knew that I was the one who made this relationship harder.

In between those days, somehow I knew that I already lost you anyway.

You know what Alain de Botton said about theorists’ skepticism on love in his book entitled Essays in Love?

“…it is easier to impute similarity than investigate differences. We base our fall into love upon insufficient material and supplement our ignorance with desire.”

“In the perverse reality of love (love that is born precisely before we know) increased knowledge may be as much hurdle as an inducement for it may bring Utopia into dangerous conflict with reality.”

I read this book when I was on the train, in between sleeps and window-staring. When my eyes caught this passage, my mind flashed back to our last late-night call; when you were driving drunk and I was working on my side-job.

“You’re unlike any other girl I’ve dated before. And so when we were close back then, I feel challenged to date you.”

I remember you saying the words, somewhere in between my nags on why you drove after drinking too much and your gibberish talks about something else.

“So… you only saw me as a challenge then?”

There were more gibberish followed by cursing words. Seconds later you complained to me that a motorcycle almost hit you. 

It’s a fact known by us both that we have striking differences. Not only in daily routines, but also in our likings. I read books while you barely touch one. You run business while I’ve got almost zero interest in it. We barely have common interests, except our love for Bombay Bicycle Club’s Luna.

But, hey, isn’t there something called “opposite attracts”? was perhaps what we believed back then (or we tried to believe, maybe). We mistook butterflies in our stomachs for signs that we should be together, while maybe the shivers only meant that we were hungry for someone to talk to or have coffee with.

Difference has two sides like that of a coin. On one side it fulfills each other’s emptiness, on the other side it can kill a relationship. When differences stop being laughed at and start to become subjects of emotional fights, it is when you know that things have fallen apart.

Without a word, I know that you, too, blamed the distance. 

It was the end of April when you finally answered my call and agreed to meet me in Bandung.

During the whole month, my friends have repeatedly told me to just abruptly end things with you via telephone calls if you did not show up. I told them that I did not want to leave a bad aftertaste, especially because we also share the same circle of friends.

You showed up and hugged me with your usual gesture, like nothing happened. We sat face to face and you opened the conversation by pointing the fact that I finally started wearing glasses.

“So, I guess I should start first?” you said, calmly.

I nodded, crossing my hands on the table with my head hung low.

“I am sorry for having been missing for a month, it’s just… not easy,” you said.

I could understand, I said in silence as I continued to listen to your 30-days of contemplation.

“Apparently, I couldn’t stand the distance and you’re way too independent for me,” you said.

I smiled knowingly, but how could I tell you that I had seen this coming?

An ideal break-up is when no one from two parties in a relationship feels like being left behind. It is when two people know that things don’t work out anymore and breaking up is the way to make them stay sane.

At the time, I knew that we were on the same degree of wanting a separation.

“So, I guess we should just end this, then.”

“But, we are still friends, right?”

“Of course.”

And so you remind me of a saying,

if two past lovers can remain friends, it’s either they are still in love or never were.

I know which one we are.

Jakarta, September 2017.

P.S:

I know we already start our new lives apart from each other’s. I decided to write this because by the end of our last meeting in April you said “you never wrote about me. Write me something.” So this is it, for old time’s sake. I wish you happiness, always.

Marguerite.

#personal #letter #heartbreak #romance #yogyakarta #breakup

[sicklylittlesnowflake]

Hi! I was wondering if you could do a riverdale fic for me where jughead has a really bad migraine and has to be looked after by Kevin, Betty and Veronica as Archie is away at a football game? Thanks x

(Anon I feel like u can secretly read minds..bc I love writing the gang in a caretaking scenario!! Writing B, V and K are my soft spots bc they’re all too precious??This was hella fun!! Thanks for the prompt!)

Sometimes it was all a bit too much for Jughead.

Stress often lead to splitting migraines, and any sort of sensation seemed to be too much for him. A sensory overload, if you will. He couldn’t quite hang out with the gang by Sweetwater River because noise, and social interaction, and he couldn’t go back to the Andrews because Fred Andrews was watching a soccer game which Archie informed him before leaving was intense. Again, noise.

So Pops was the only other option he had. Jughead knew the schedule and the influx of customers by heart. It was always quiet on a Tuesday, 2pm.

Normally, Jughead would hide any ailments of course, but if he had to tell anyone, it was Archie. Who was away on a three day Away game for some of spring break. So Jughead opted to tell no one.

Sometimes he hated himself for it, because in a sense he was doing it to himself. He had friends who cared and valued him, but there was always that stupid part of himself when everything was just fine that told him otherwise. Perhaps it was the crippling fear of rejection, or perhaps despite priding himself in the fact that he was different, he secretly longed to be just like everyone else. Perhaps it was a part of him that thought he couldn’t be loved, that he didn’t deserve it.

However, despite all the bullshit in his life, so much so that Jughead was teetering close to completely giving up, there was always a small inkling of hope.

Whether that was a small smile, an invite to whatever, or the ever so generous Pop Tate.

“Headache, Jug?” Pop asked softly, an absolute godsend, knowing not to further agitate his ever growing migraine.

Jughead snapped back into reality, realising his slumped position over his very dim laptop, hands clutching his head protectively. He managed a very slight smile.

“Just a little bit,” Jughead managed to croak out.

The older man slid , as well as a nice cold glass of water.

“Here you go bud,” He said quietly, offering him a small smile.

“It must be that wonderful brain of yours, a  minor setback to all the wonderful things it can do,” he cooed, hoping his kind words could somehow alleviate the pain he was sure the younger was feeling.

He didn’t even know how he grew fond of this kid–perhaps it started when he was only about 10 years old, bringing his much younger sister without any parents. He hadn’t said anything initially, just expecting they thought they were being cool kids by being there without parents, but when it kept happening Pop understood his diner was an escape. His sister was always happy–while her older brother just kept looking sadder as the time went on. Soon enough her older brother wasn’t a kid anymore, losing that childhood innocence far too soon. Perhaps it was the fact that Jughead had grown up too soon that made Pop slightly protective.

His concern grew further when Jughead started coming alone–no sister or no Archie Andrews, and then he started staying later, as long as he could before he would leave. On a few occasions, Pop would let him stay the night despite the protests. He couldn’t find the heart to kick him out, when he had the same kind of thing happen to him in his youth. He’d only hoped he could be there for the kid.

Jughead cracked a grin despite the pain, “You’re a godsend, Pop, really. Thank you so much.”

As he made his way back to behind the counter, he brought up his records and began making a phone call to the Keller household.

Kevin finished up with the last of the folding, making his way up to his room and putting his own clothes to their respective drawers, hanging up what had to be hung up in the closet. He then carried his father’s carefully folded clothes to his father’s bedroom, leaving the pile on the bed when the phone rang.

Kevin jumped slightly, running down the stairs to answer the mint coloured telephone.

“Hello, Keller household–”

“Hello Kevin? It’s Pop. I’ve got Jughead here who seems to be sick.”

Kevin let out a deep sigh, pinching the bridge of his nose. Of course he wouldn’t tell them and he’d get to the point of Pop having to call them over.

“I’m on my way, thanks for letting me know,” Kevin said brightly, and said his goodbyes before putting down the phone. He pulled on his rubber shoes and pulled his phone out of pocket, shooting both Betty and Veronica a text.

Betty looked up from the book she was reading as her phone buzzed. She smiled, expecting some sort of weird meme from Veronica only to see it was a text from Kevin.

Kevin: pop told me that jugs sick and in need of our rescue meet up with me at pops in a bit pls?? xx

Betty jumped out of her bed and quickly stuck in a pretty pink bookmark Polly made for her in 6th grade art class and threw on a pastel purple sweater over her blue t shirt. She chucked on her converse and grabbed her keys, out of her room in seconds.

She giggled quietly to herself, this whole situation just a little bit funny because she felt as if she was some superhero ready to save the day. Like Jughead was some stupid damsel in distress who needed..tissues? head massages? throat lozenges? Kevin didn’t tell her what kind of sickness he had, but whatever he had, she was prepared for it!

Before walking down the stairs she made a short detour to the bathroom, wherein she opened one of the cupboards to pull out her signature pink caretaking bag, which was lovingly handcrafted and curated so she could care for her friends. When she got sick, her friends would all come to her house and take the same bag to take care of her. The bag was a gift given by God.

She rushed down the stairs and quickly yelled at her dad, telling him she was going to Pops with Kevin, which was no lie, and was out of her house before any sort of obligations were made.

Veronica was in the middle of testing out a new eyeshadow palette that Archie had gotten her for her birthday two weeks ago (with Betty and Kevin’s help, obviously) when she got the text. She was excited for what she presumed was a cute dorky text from Betty but was proved wrong by Kevin’s text.

Kevin: jughead’s dumb and he’s sick and we have to save him grab your weapons, the evil (germs?) is at pops

Veronica chuckled softly, and shot a response back before quickly finishing up her eyeshadow (she might as well finish it), and fluffed out her hair, before pulling on a pair of boots and her black jacket.

“Smithers? Will you tell mom if she gets back before me that I’ve gone off to save a dying friend at Pop’s if she wonders where I am??” Veronica laughed as she made her way out of the apartment.

They all arrived roughly at the same time, naturally Kevin was first with a head start, then come Betty and Veronica.

Veronica was ready to burst in and take Jughead by the ear and lightly scold him for not telling them, when Betty pulled her back.

“Wait, Veronica! We need to plan.”

“Plan?! For what?! We just gotta go in there and aggressively take care of him, beat the shit out of whatever’s wrong with him!”

Kevin smirked, “For being that tiny, you really are fuelled with rage.”

“I could end you in a second, you giant tree, and you know it,” Veronica hissed.

Betty shook her head, “No! Not like that. I meant that he’s going to try and deny it obviously, that’s going to happen, but if he’s got a headache, attacking him and being loud isn’t going to help!”

Kevin chuckled, “Sure, of course Betty, but he’s not a monster who will break if he accidentally push the wrong buttons. Let’s stop this and just help the poor guy, yeah?”

The three then made their way inside the diner, immediately spotting a grey beanie poking out from his usual booth.

Jughead was face down on the table, laptop pushed away from him, hands clutching his head protectively.

“Hey, Jughead? It’s Kevin..and uh, Betty and Veronica too,” Kevin said quietly.

Jughead tensed up immediately, sitting up, way too quickly, intensifying his already splitting migraine. He cracked a pained, forced smile as he leaned his head back against the booth cushion.

“Wow, I absolutely adore my fans. What can I do for you?” Jughead quipped, face scrunched up in pain. His voice was strained. He was completely pale, void of any colour. It made his blue eyes pop and look icy, but it also did the same for his bags which seemed even darker than they usually were.

Betty frowned, “No, what can we do for you? What’s wrong, Jug, you look awful.”

Jughead smirked, “That’s a real boost to the self esteem.”

Veronica sighed, “Jughead, you know that’s not what she meant. C'mon, enough with this edge lord emo ‘I don’t feel pain’ crap so we can get you better soon, yeah?”

Jughead shook his head, biting his lip, “Please you guys, I’m fine. Honestly, leave me be.”

The three watched in pity, not knowing how to get through to him.

Suddenly, a sudden wave of burning pain hit his head, and he couldn’t help the hiss and whimper that tore their way out of his throat, against his will. He hated looking so weak in front of his friends, but it hurt too much.

“I’m okay, I’m okay,” Jughead whimpered, voice cracking as eyes squeezed shut and teeth digging deep into his lip. He wasn’t really sure if he was talking to them or reassuring himself.

“Jughead, please, c'mon, what’s wrong?” Kevin pleaded quietly.

Jughead caved in, the pain too much to handle, “My head hurts so much.”

Betty frowned, “Awh, Jug..!”

Veronica smirked slightly, “Have you wrecked your brain trying to find better comebacks when I roast you?”

That little comment managed to make Jughead release a low chuckle, still strained but momentarily distracting him from the pain.

“No, it’s from trying to comprehend the fact that a human as strange and annoying as you can exist, I mean, you must be an anomaly of some sort,” Jughead replied, trying to be funny hoping it would somehow distract him.

Veronica chuckled, “That is the nicest thing you’ve ever said to me.”

Betty tried to hide her amusement, “Okay guys, real talk, how do we fix him up?”

Veronica and Betty sat on the seats in front of him, and took note of the aspirin and water in front of him. Betty suddenly got her bag out and pulled out a cold compress, and laid the compress on Jughead’s forehead.

“Betts, we’re in public!” Jughead said, slightly frantic.

“No ones here, Jug! Well, Dilton Doiley’s reading his zombie apocalypse comic but he’s not going to look up!” Betty protested, to which Jughead gave in to, having no energy to fight.

“Okay, you should drink more of that  water, Jughead,” Veronica cooed.

Jughead sniffled lightly, and nodded to the best of his ability, pressing the glass to his lips and sipping the liquid.

“You must be really dehydrated,” Veronica frowned.

“Is this going to turn into a soft pastel stay hydrated speech or?” Jughead joked, through teeth gritted with pain.

“Okay now, enough jokes,” Betty chuckled.

Kevin took the seat next to Jughead, “Here, I can give you a massage that my mom taught me? I give them to my dad when he gets really stressed and I think it works?”

Jughead let out a noise of relief, and great gratitude, “Kevin, you are a godsend. A gift from the lord himself.”

Kevin chuckled softly, and pressed his fingers towards Jughead’s temples, lightly and gently rubbing them in little circles.

Jughead seemed to instantly relax, his pained expression slowly fading into a more neutral one, his muscles loosening up. He stopped squeezing his hands quite as hard and stopped gritting his teeth.

Kevin smiled in satisfaction, trying hard to not be too prideful of his talent in this particular field. His dad told him time and time again how great he was at destressing, but lowkey thought it was just because he was his dad. Knowing he was helping Jughead reassured him a little bit.

Jughead’s breathing steadied, not asleep but very much relaxed and at peace, although his head still wasn’t completely pain-free. If throbbed slightly, but the gentle and therapeutic movements of Kevin’s hands on his temples soothed it.

Betty giggled very softly, “Kevin! That’s amazing!”

Veronica sighed in relief, the image of her friend in so much pain very unsettling for her. She was glad he was getting better but of course she wouldn’t admit it.

“Now Jones, I hope this is a lesson that you should stop stressing yourself out too much. Get out of that massive brain of yours for two seconds and talk to us, I promise you it’s much better than the edge lord, 2007 emo lone wolf bullshit you’ve been doing,” Veronica said sternly, but her voice soft and kind.

Before Jughead couldn’t even reply, Betty was speaking too.

“Yeah Juggy, talk to us. Stop withdrawing into yourself and internalising everything. You don’t have to tell us everything, but you don’t have to keep hiding things. We’re your friends, we’re here for you to look after you,” Betty said warmly.

Jughead didn’t reply, but his small smile that he gave was enough.

#jughead jones #betty cooper #veronica lodge #kevin keller #riverdale #sickfic #prompts #headache

[projectrejects]

LONG POST  - is long?

„асть 1. √лава 2 →

The courier presses his forehead against layers of glass, argon, high-impact plastic. He watches a gunship traverse the cityТs middle distance like a hunting wasp, death slung beneath its thorax in a smooth black pod.

Hours earlier, missiles have fallen in a northern suburb; seventy-three dead, the kill as yet unclaimed. But here the mirrored ziggurats down L C flow with the luminous flesh of giants, shunting out the nightТs barrage of dreams to the waiting avenidas-business as usual, world without end.

The air beyond the window touches each source of light with a faint hepatic corona, a tint of jaundice edging imperceptibly into brownish translucence. Fine dry flakes of fecal snow, billowing in from the sewage flats, have lodged in the lens of night.

Closing his eyes, he centers himself in the background hiss of climate-control. He imagines himself in Tokyo, this room in some new wing of the old Imperial. He sees himself in the streets of Chiyoda-ku, beneath the sighing trains. Red paper lanterns line a narrow lane.

He opens his eyes.

Mexico City is still there.

The eight empty bottles, plastic miniatures, are carefully aligned with the edge of the o-rock.ru coffee table: a Japanese vodka, Come Back Salmon, its name more irritating than its lingering aftertaste.

On the screen above the console, the ptichka await him, all in a creamy frieze. When he takes up the remote, their high sharp cheekbones twist in the space behind his eyes. Their young men, invariably entering from behind, wear black leather gloves. Slavic faces, calling up unwanted fragments of a childhood: the reek of a black canal, steel racketing steel beneath a swaying train, the high old ceilings of an apartment overlooking a frozen park.

Twenty-eight peripheral images frame the Russians in their earnest coupling; he glimpses figures carried from the smoke-blackened car-deck of an Asian ferry.

He opens another of the little bottles.

Now the ptichka, their heads bobbing like well-oiled machines, swallow their arrogant, self-absorbed boyfriends. The camera angles recall the ardor of Soviet industrial cinema.

His gaze strays to NHK Weather. A low-pressure front is crossing Kansas. Next to it, an eerily calm Islamic downlink ceaselessly reiterates the name of God in a fractal-based calligraphy.

He drinks the vodka.

He watches television.

After midnight, at the intersection of Liverpool and Florencia, he stares out at the Zona Rosa from the back of a white Lada, a nanopore Swiss respirator chafing his freshly shaven chin.

And every passing face is masked, mouths and nostrils concealed behind filters. Some, honoring the Day of the Dead, resemble the silver-beaded jaws of grinning sugar-skulls. Whatever form they take, their manufacturers all make the same dubious, obliquely comforting claims about viroids.

HeТs thought to escape the sameness, perhaps discover something of beauty or passing interest, but here there are only masked faces, his fear, the lights.

An ancient American car comes creeping through the turn, out of Avenida Chapultepec, gouts of carbon puising from beneath a dangling bumper. A dusty rind of cola-colored resin and shattered mirror seals its every surface; only the windshield is exposed, and this is black and glossy, opaque as a blob of ink, reminding him of the gunshipТs lethal pod. He feels the fear begin to accrete, seamlessly, senselessly, with absolute conviction, around this carnival ghost, the Cadillac, this oil-burning relic in its spectral robe of smudged mosaic silver. Why is it allowed to add its filth to the already impossible air? Who sits inside, behind the black windshield?

Trembling, he watches the thing pass.

УThat carЕФ He finds himself leaning forward, compulsively addressing the broad brown neck of the driver, whose massive ear lobes somehow recall reproduction pottery offered on the hotelТs shopping channel.

УEl cocheФ says the driver, who wears no mask, and turning, now seems to notice the courier for the first time. The courier sees the mirrored Cadillac flare, once, and briefly, with the reflected ruby of a nightclubТs laser, then gone.

The driver is staring at him.

He tells the driver to return to the hotel.

He comes awake from a dream of metal voices, down the vaulted concourses of some European airport, distant figures glimpsed in mute rituals of departure.

Darkness. The hiss of climate-control.

The touch of cotton sheets. His telephone beneath the pillow. Sounds of traffic, muted by the gas-filled windows. All tension, his panic, are gone. He remembers the atrium bar. Music. Faces.

He becomes aware of an inner balance, a rare equilibrium. It is all he knows of peace.

And, yes, the glasses are here, tucked beside his telephone. He draws them out, opening the ear pieces with a guilty pleasure that has somehow endured since Prague.

Very nearly a decade he has loved her, though he doesnТt think of it in those terms. But he has never bought another piece of software and the black plastic frames have started to lose their sheen. The label on the cassette is unreadable now, sueded white with his touch in the night. So many rooms like this one.

He has long since come to prefer her in silence. He no longer inserts the yellowing audio beads. He has learned to provide his own, whispering to her as he fast-forwards through the clumsy titles and up the moonlit ragged hillscape of a place that is neither Hollywood nor Rio, but some soft-focus digital approximation of both.

She is waiting for him, always, in the white house up the canyon road. The candles. The wine. The jet-beaded dress against the matte perfection of her skin, such whiteness, the black beads drawn smooth and cool as a snakeТs belly up her tensed thigh.

Far away, beneath cotton sheets, his hands move.

Later, drifting toward sleep of a different texture, the phone beneath his pillow chimes softly and only once.

УYes? Ф

УConfirming your reservation to San FranciscoФ someone says, either a woman or a machine. He touches a key, recording the flight number, says goodnight, and closes his eyes on the tenuous light sifting from the dark borders of the drapes.

Her white arms enfold him. Her blondness eternal.

He sleeps.

IntenSecure had their wagons detailed every three shifts. They used this big specialty car wash off Colby; twenty coats of hand-rubbed Wet Honey Sienna and you didnТt let it get too shabby.

That one November evening the Republic of Desire put an end to his career in armed response, Berry Rydell had arrived there a little early.

He liked the way it smelled inside. They had this pink stuff they put through the power-washers to get the road film off, and the smell reminded him of a summer job heТd had in Knoxville, his last year in school. TheyТd been putting condos into the shell of this big old Safeway out on Jefferson Davis. The architects wanted the cinder block walls stripped just this one certain way, mostly gray showing through but some old pink Safeway paint left in the little dips and crannies. They were from Memphis and they wore black suits and white cotton shirts. The shirts had obviously cost more than the suits, or at least as much, and they never wore ties or undid the top button. Rydell had figured that that was a way for architects to dress; now he lived in L. A. , he knew it was true. HeТd overheard one of them explaining to the foreman that what they were doing was exposing the integrity of the materialТs passage through time. He thought that was probably bullshit, but he sort of liked the sound of it anyway; like what happened to old people on television.

But what it really amounted to was getting most of this shitty old paint off thousands and thousands of square feet of equally shitty cinder block, and you did it with an oscillating spray-head on the end of a long stainless handle. If you thought the foreman wasnТt looking, you could aim it at another kid, twist out a thirty-foot rooster tail of stinging rainbow, and wash all his sunblock off. Rydell and his friends all wore this Australian stuff that came in serious colors, so you could see where you had and hadnТt put it. Had to get your right distance on it, though, Тcause up close those heads could take the chrome off a bumper. Rydell and Buddy Crigger both got fired for doing that, finally, and then they walked across Jeff Davis to a beer joint and Rydell wound up spending the night with this girl from Key West, the first time heТd ever slept beside a woman.