Devil's breath

RUINER.

❛    Do it for the love.   ❜ ❛     If I’m being honest, I don’t know what I’m chasing.   ❜ ❛     I just wanna let you know you’re not alone.   ❜ ❛     I got people from the past probably hoping I’m dead   ❜ ❛     It’s just things aren’t the way that they used to be.   ❜ ❛     I lost my mind, then I lost my best friend.   ❜ ❛     Yeah, so what if I did and what if I didn’t?   ❜ ❛     I just wish I wasn’t stuck between decisions.   ❜ ❛     I just wish I didn’t feel like something’s missing.   ❜ ❛     Seems like every time I leave I end up thinking of us.   ❜ ❛     I keep fucking with your head like a lobotomy.   ❜ ❛     You’ll always be a part of me.   ❜ ❛     Things change when you come around.   ❜ ❛     They’re just memories now.   ❜

SAYER.

❛     I can still hear it all.   ❜ ❛     Every word that you said gets embedded in my head.   ❜ ❛     All the things never spoke now choking me.   ❜ ❛     I been on my own.   ❜ ❛     You never called.   ❜ ❛     We never saw eye to eye.   ❜ ❛     Wasn’t tryna hurt you.   ❜ ❛     You know that wasn’t my intention.   ❜ ❛     & I never meant for this to happen.   ❜ ❛     I turn regret into a habit.   ❜ ❛     There’s nothing to say now.   ❜ ❛     How could you be fine when I’m barely getting by?   ❜ ❛     Every word you said now, was it all a lie?   ❜ ❛     Just sucks to feel this way when I know you don’t.   ❜ ❛     Why can’t I let go?   ❜

VACANTER.

❛     I can’t help it, if I could I would change it.   ❜ ❛     Lately, I’ve been feeling so vacant.   ❜ ❛     Holding out waiting for something to change   ❜ ❛     Everybody always asks if I’m okay, & I’m mad ‘cause I don’t know what to say.     ❜ ❛     It’s like I’m going insane.   ❜ ❛     I got enemies that live up in my brain.   ❜ ❛     You always told me you would be the one to help.   ❜ ❛     Now it’s me & myself.   ❜ ❛     Funny how it changed up like that.   ❜

CHANGER.

❛     I been thinking of my problems.   ❜ ❛     I’m feeling like “why bother”.   ❜ ❛     Growing up, there was no drama.   ❜ ❛     Telling me “move on” But honestly I don’t wanna.   ❜ ❛     Are you happy now?   ❜ ❛     Pretending to mitigate all your problems, motherfucker.   ❜ ❛     I just miss the days on the playground.   ❜ ❛     Seems like everybody that I loved went away now.   ❜ ❛     How come as I grow I keep feeling less alive?   ❜ ❛     How come all I see is the past when I shut my eyes?   ❜ ❛     Man, I thought it would last, but it passed me by.   ❜ ❛     How come all I see is your face when I look to the sky?   ❜ ❛     I could lead you to the water, but I can’t make you drink.   ❜ ❛     I can give my two cents, but I can’t make you think.   ❜

WASTER.

It was a late afternoon on a Sunday and Jasper decided that maybe a walk would be a good idea after having reorganized the greenhouse. He would exercise and breathe in some fresh air, get away from the nervous electric environment the corridors of Hogwarts seemed to be emiting. You could see students sitting together in the Great Hall and in the corridors debating the coming exams amongst themselves and sharing a book while they were at it. Jasper could only shake his head subtly. They should have studied sooner, he mused to himself.

He found himself hungry and needing a drink so he waddled slowly towards the Three Broomsticks, the dull ache on his leg a sign that he should take his medicine soon. Not that it did anything to improve his condition but it made living a bit easier. There are times he wishes he was young again, just like his students. Maybe then he would choose differently, live a little more beyond the greenhouse where he hid almost every day during his days as a student.

He was nursing a glass of firewhiskey, his mind far off in the past when a voice interrupts his thoughts and he looks up over his glasses. He recognised him as one of his 4th Upper Year students, quite remarkable and with enormous potential.

“Not a bother at all, go ahead and have a seat” the older motions towards the empty chair with a wave of his hand, a playful shy smile tilting the corners of his lips up.·“Unless you want to discuss your final exam to which I have to kindly refuse to give you any details.”

He visibly relaxes when his teacher allows him to sit at his table. He proceeds to do just that although not without an audible scoff leaving his lips at the idea he is here to ask questions about the exam. "I think you know me better than that Professor," he says as he sits down and instantly reaches over for the menu between them. He knows it by heart, but that doesn't mean he won't have a look at it anyway.

It doesn't take him much time to figure out what he wants though and soon, he is closing the menu and returning it to its previous location. After all, he came here to ask his professor questions, not to let the silence stretch between them and waste his time with menial things just to avoid getting to the heart of the matter. He joins his hands on the table and clears his throat. He has a vague idea of what he wants to ask, but he doesn't know where to start. Should he tell the older man about his dilemma first or should he simply ask him about his curriculum directly?

❅ Several winters ago ❅

[...]

Dashiell felt very cold suddenly. He swallowed over a tightening lump in his throat, hands icy and sweaty as they rested on his knees. His aversion to small, enclosed spaces was not something he spoke about, not ever. And somehow he’d just walked into a game where sitting in one was the object. “Dash?” the same boy asked, eyebrows high in expectation. He felt everyone’s eyes on him and he looked away uncomfortably, only then noticing Damien within the circle.

He only knew of the Slytherin upperclassman by reputation but the surprise of seeing him partake in such a game was subdued by the fear he was trying to hold back. He held eye contact with him for perhaps too long, wearily shifting his attention back to the boy controlling the game and shaking his head. That closet was the last place he wanted to be. “Well if there are no volunteers we have to spin,” the boy huffed, reaching forward and whipping the bottle around once more. Dashiell couldn’t help but sigh in relief when the bottle did not land near him. Its chosen target entered the closet but he’d only bought himself the next seven minutes to figure out a way to escape.

@crdamn

If someone was to ask him how he ended up there, Damien would say that he had been intrigued to find out what the group of students had wanted to do with an empty bottle. He hadn’t known about what it would be used for until everyone had been made to sit in a circle. It’s not that he didn’t figure it out earlier because he was too stupid to, but rather because he had not been familiar with the muggle game at all. When the (very simple) rules had been dished out, he had squirmed a little on his spot. It’s not that he minded dark narrow spaces (a closet was just a closet after all), and he didn’t mind kissing another guy, but the idea of kissing a girl…and having to pretend to like it…well, he supposes he didn’t have to pretend at all, but then what would happen…

Luckily for him, the bottle had not fallen on him once since the start of the game. He assumed that some people must have calculated the amount of strength that needed to be use for the bottle to point at the person they wanted to share a kiss with…or maybe it was all up to luck, who knew. That’s where his thoughts were when a new member got invited to join them. He looked up from his lap and tilted his head slightly as he took in the tall Gryffindor. Thankfully, the newcomer didn’t notice him, too busy folding his long limbs into a sitting position. Why was everyone so damn tall in this school? He both loved it and hated it at the same time.

The girl who had invited Dash to join them left the circle to go in the closet and when they were asked who wanted to join her, Damien’s gaze travelled over to where the Gryffindor boy was sitting when his name was called questioningly. Their gaze met, and Damien arched an eyebrow when he noticed the other boy seemed uncomfortable. But that didn’t make any sense because from what Damien knew of Dashiell, by things heard through the grapevines and his own observations, the taller student seemed to exude confidence at all time. It didn’t make sense for him to join a game if said game made him uncomfortable. Then again, Dashiell probably wasn’t uncomfortable at all and had only looked away for another reason.

He eventually broke eye contact and busied himself by picking at the frayed edges of the rip in his jeans right over his left knee. He tuned out the conversations around him when the person who had been chosen to join Harriet in the closet made their way there and stayed there for seven minutes. He was only pulled back to the present when the two returned from the closet with flushed cheeks and took their place into the circle again. The boy who seemed to have chosen to lead the game since the start spinned the bottle and Damien watched it spin and spin until it stopped, pointing right at him. He heard some people whistling and others saying, not too subtly that it was about damn time.

[...]

his gaze turns to the older slytherin, the upset showing in his face now. "i did want to be respected, that’s why i stayed with them for so long. i didn’t – i don’t care about being loved." 

( a lie. ) 

"i just… wanted to be important,” he looks away again, pressing his mouth into a thin line. “but i guess that didn’t really work.” 

he shuts himself up now, remembering that he didn’t want to say anything to the other in the first place. he furrows his brows as he takes a long gulp of the tea, aware of how it burns his tongue but he doesn’t care. 

He hums as he listens to the other beating himself up for staying with assholes for so long. “I wouldn’t call you stupid. You hoped, and maybe in the long run that didn’t lead to the ending you wanted, but there’s nothing wrong with hoping and wanting to belong. Everyone wants to belong.” When the younger student starts talking about his blood status, Damien remains quiet. He is a pureblood himself, but he never paid attention to blood status and he doesn’t understand why that would even still be important nowadays. That said, he has witnessed how it still matters to certain people, mostly in the Slytherin house, and it has always revolted him. “Do you think that’s wrong?” he asks Ichigo while looking right at him. “That you grew up with a muggle mother?” He makes sure to keep his voice low as the other doesn’t seem to want others to hear and Damien is going to respect that.

There is so much more he wants to tell him. He wishes he could say that it’s not a good idea to surround yourself with people who you can’t even show your real self to. If you must hide who you are when you are with your friends, then something isn’t right. But he can’t just lecture him for hours about life and what he should be doing or not. There are many things that one must learn on its own. He’s still helping him a little by offering advice that was never asked of him, but he can’t just offer him all the answers on a silver platter. One needs to make mistakes and learn from them. Experience different things until, hopefully, they will have a positive epiphany.

crxviolet:

[...]

It was a close battle with Violet’s perseverance and competitiveness along with Damien’s experience and equal passion to win. At that point both seemed to be wanting to tire each other out, flashes of light colliding and spells being shouted. She could feel the hair at her nape starting to stick to her skin and she felt Professor Yong’s stare on their duel. It was part of their final evaluation after all.

Violet started to feel frustration and it was showing everytime she casted a spell. A simple “Expeliarmus!” started to look sloppy and rushed against Damien’s attacks, controlled and disciplined.

Maybe it was more than she could chew. He was older and more experienced. Maybe Violet wasn’t as good as she thought. She hated the fact she was losing.

Damien had never been able to understand how Professor Yong’s mind worked, and it was not for lack of trying. The man was mysterious as hell. It explained why Damien was surprised to find out that his duelling partner was going to be a 6th year who hadn’t even passed her N.E.W.T.s yet. He didn’t want to underestimate her, but he also couldn’t help but feel like the duel was not set up to be fair from the start.

He made his way to the stage and took the time to look at his opponent. He had to bite back a strong urge to grin when he noticed the way she was looking at him, her entire posture telling him that he should not underestimate her. Alright then. He bowed as she did, before getting into position, wand ready.

His opponent’s first few attempts had been child’s play. It had been relatively easy to counter them before they could even touch him and make him embarrass himself in front of the entire school. He had to admit though, that the girl was quite good for her year. The fact she was able to keep up with him and didn’t let his spells get to her proved how determined she was. At this point, he started to be thankful for having been paired with her. It made for a good duel and he hoped that their final evaluation grade would reflect that.

“Impedimenta,” he calls out while moving his wand and a small smile appears on his face when the jinx is easily deflected by his opponent. He continued to use simple jinxes for a good part of the duel, throwing his own respectable amount of Ebublio and other spells meant to block the ones thrown at him. Sure, he was in Slytherin and a duel was not something that existed to play nice. It was a battle, but Damien didn’t feel like throwing embarrassing spells at his opponent. He could have, but he didn’t want to. That wouldn’t have brought him any joy or satisfaction. However, this duel had to end eventually and he had a special spell he was keeping just for that.

After another rushed expelliarmus from his opponent, Damien quickly ran his hand that was not holding his wand into his hair, brushing it back. Sweat had slowly formed on his forehead and it was annoying him. He straightened up and waved his wand. “Langlock!” he says and watches, satisfied, when it hits the Hufflepuff girl and automatically prevents her from talking as her tongue is now glued to the roof of her mouth. Only then, when the end of the match is announced, does he allow himself to grin. He bows at his opponent before walking up to her and putting his hand on her shoulder.

[...]

“yeah, i know,” he replies quietly. a bitter taste comes to his mouth again and he takes another sip of tea to try to wash it down, and then: “but it works for them, right? they don’t actually care about respect, they just want to be able to get what they want.” it feels weird, referring to them as ‘them’ now instead of 'us’. although even ichigo knows that there was never really an 'us’; even with all that ichigo threw away for them he was always left clinging to the edge of the social circle, never really fitting in anywhere.

talking badly about them gives him a tiny bit of comfort but at the same time, there’s a twinge of anxiety in his gut, as if they’d find out about what he’s saying and find a way to make him pay for it. he draws into himself a little, sinking down in the armchair. he glances over at the other slytherin. “you don’t have to stay here…” his tone softens slightly as his gaze slides over to a couple of kids on the other side of the room. “it’s probably not a good idea to be around me right now.” he swallows. “but thanks for the tea.” 

“I know I don’t have to, but I’m going to leave once I feel like leaving,” he calmly replies when the boy tells him it might not be a good idea to stay here with him. “And you’re welcome, for the tea.” He continues to drink his tea until his mug is empty and then he sets it aside, joining his hands and linking his fingers together over his lap.

“I always assumed you were just as bad as them,” he suddenly declares, keeping his gaze on the other Slytherin. “I never saw how you were when you were not with them because I would always see you with them. Seeing you watch in silence whenever they bullied and hurt others, just standing there without doing anything, I thought that was just as despicable as if you had actively participated, but then I realized I was not better. I also never intervened even though I could.” The boy didn’t ask for his opinion, for his thoughts, but Damien feels like it is important for him to fill the silence this time. He usually prefers to keep to himself, but not now.

“You say it works for them, that they are able to get what they want. What’s that exactly? Respect? I already told you I don’t believe this is what they are getting. Are they getting love? They’re not. While other students are out there building some friendships that are going to last, they are sticking with kids who will probably stab them in the back when the opportunity arise.” His fingers twitch and he sighs, reaching up to run a hand through his hair. He knows he sounds like he is preaching, like he has all of his shit together and like he is preaching, but that’s not what he is trying to do here.

[...]

as if sizing damien up, cal leans away, looking him from head to toe, biting over his lip. it’s not as if he hadn’t thought about it. but friendships were so far and few between. there was a risk that things would become emotional – and emotions were messy for callum. “maybe. i mean, all you slytherins have a reputation for being good in the sack. but we were just discussing how the house doesn’t always make the man,” he teases, cocking his head and glancing around. “have you ever been a daddy before? you seem very vanilla to me.”

”I mean, I can see the logic in your argument,” he begins after Callum has explained why he’s not going to be turning forty-five, “but just so you know, it would be very sad without you around and I would miss the hell out of you.” His cheeks don’t turn red at the admittance because he’s not embarrassed about his feelings for his friend. He enjoys Callum’s company and he is sincere when he says that he would miss him.

He bites the inside of his cheek to keep himself from smiling when Callum brings up a childhood memory. He’s heard bits and pieces over the years, not all of them nice and fond, but this one is cute. “Not everyone knows what they want when they are 8 years old Cal,” he says just before his composure melts away and he ends up with an amused smile. He shifts a little so he can press himself even closer against Callum, getting on the tip of his toes to rest his chin on the other’s shoulder. “Was there a little apron for you to wear? So you could be the perfect little wife?” he whispers into his friend’s ear, teasing him. He chuckles and quickly moves away before Callum can decide to hurt him.

“I was young too when I figured it out. I wanted to marry one of the apprentices working at my parents’ shop. He had beautiful red hair and was covered in freckles.” Sometimes, he thinks it would be nice if he could come back to the shop so Damien could see if he changed a lot over the years, but another part of him doesn’t want to know, prefers to keep the memory he has of him.

He arches an eyebrow while Callum checks him out. He spreads his arms out, as if to silently asks whether Callum likes what he sees. “Oh do we now? I wonder where you heard that. I thought most students were too afraid of us to even want our body parts anywhere near theirs.” He’s joking of course. He’s well aware that there are a lot of students who do not believe all the stereotypes about the Houses. But still. His expression turns suddenly turns into a cold stare. “Vanilla? You insult me!” He didn’t have anything against vanilla sex, but he did have non-vanilla interests too.

her mother only taught her how to build a dam to withhold the torrent of emotions. however, she never taught isla what to do if her feelings became tidal waves that flooded her soul. the slytherin couldn’t risk opening the gates, let herself flood the hallways of hogwarts. drowning.

so isla taught herself to ignore the cracks in her concrete hull and she expected other’s to do the same. but the school of magic teaches isla that life is about anomalies, a world partially outside of her mother’s vice grip. that is what wanders into her premises now, pillars of support.

❝ – do you ever, ❞ isla begins quietly. her voice barely louder than the wind which travels across the cliff where the owl tower belongs. she doesn’t want her partner to know she actually said those words, in case they come across as nothing suitable. a fellow slytherin, but one year older isla feels as if perhaps he would be a decade wiser.

❝ – think about leaving everything behind and just flying somewhere? an easy thought, but a family member will always complicate things. ❞

@crdamn

The breeze feels nice on his skin and he is content to remain silent while the Slytherin girl who’s near him gathers her thoughts. He’s leaning against the stone wall, head tilted backward and eyes closed when the first words leave the girl’s mouth. He hums softly and straightens up, opening his eyes to throw a glance at her.

“I do,” he says before sighing and stretching his arms in front of himself. “It’s a tempting thought and one that may take roots in one’s mind for a lot of different reasons. Some are longing for freedom, away from the chains that are tying them to a place they do not like, others want to disappear, some may just want a new start.” He pauses, but keeps looking at Isla.