nobody (but)

emotions were flickering across taeyang’s face like those tiny pictures he would pinch beneath his thumb and palm and watch slip away between the pad of his thumb. heecheon couldn’t read a single one of them. not only was he too preoccupied and caught up with his own inner turmoil, anything that happened in other people’s hearts, even if it was worn on a sleeve, seemed mostly like a foreign concept to the blond.

in a way, he reckoned that they were similar. heecheon didn’t know a lot about taeyang, but he was almost certain that there was more beneath the surface than the other male liked to show. he seemed troubled; almost haunted, and, in a way, he also felt like heecheon following him and trying to get them to talk had taught him a thing or two about his fellow ravenclaw. even if those things were only that he seemed constantly irritated and very much preferred being alone.

a sense of guilt filled him, knowing that he was the one that was preventing taeyang from getting his probably well deserved peace, but heecheon deserved to be selfish every once in a while.

and even though he had been prepared for the anger, as soon as taeyang swore, he couldn’t help taking a minuscule step back, his body tensing and fingers fidgeting with the material of his uniform. with confusion and interest he watched the other boy get out of bed, felt the annoyance radiate off him in waves and wondered if all of that was even worth it. what he had learnt about his father was nothing but hurtful and he honestly wasn’t sure if he could deal with any more of that acidulous tone. ❝you’ll tell me all i want to know?❞ it wasn’t like him to be asking so many questions in the first place, but as taeyang started moving, heecheon seemed to wake from the daze he had fallen into.

pestering? had it felt that bad for the other male? probably, since he seemed to be at the end of his patience and about to snap.

❝i didn’t realise i’ve been pestering you, but i will stop after you tell me what i want to know.❞ truth to be told, he had to bite his tongue to stop himself from pointing out that nothing about what taeyang had said seemed ‘nice’. thinking about how taeyang would sound if he were mean made it easier to hold himself back.

thin legs struggled for a moment before he finally turned and lead the way out of the room and towards the ravenclaw common room. a glance was thrown over his shoulder to check if taeyang was still following — the need to say more was weighing heavy on his shoulders and without turning, the shorter male spoke up once again.❝i apologise again for the headache i must be causing you. i guarantee that isn’t my intention, i simply wanted to find out the truth and there don’t seem to be a lot of options on how to do that.❞ maybe taeyang didn’t even hear him, with the way he was mumbling and maybe that was for the best. ideally, he should probably shut up and stop digging the grave he had started even further.

taeyang wasn’t easy to read, not as easy as people think. he wears his frustrations and irritations on his sleeve as it keeps people at bay. people only see the anger, the exhaustion. the haunt. they don’t know what’s underneath, what irritates and annoys him. why he’s exhausted. how he is haunted when he’s hardly even lived, not even a quarter of a century and the weight of an old man’s years written on his soul.

but he likes them not knowing.

taeyang doesn’t want them knowing what it’s like to be in the shadow of all that could be. to see death hover around people that seem so healthy and vivacious. so full of life. to see happiness that could shatter in an instant because moments are fleeting possibilities are endless the world changes every time someone takes a breath their future changes every step they take. my head hurts. so he doesn’t mind that people keep their distance from him cause all they see is the irritation.

there are those moments, however, where his sharp tongue and bitterness do dredge up a bit of guilt within him. taeyang experiences one of those moments now when heecheon steps back from his harsh words, gnawing in the pit of his stomach with every step after the other ravenclaw.

“you’ll tell me all i want to know?” he bites back his frustrations this time, closing his eyes tight and nodding his head silently to keep back any of the negative comments swirling around in his mind. didn’t i just fucking say that. no shit sherlock. obviously. stop it you’re going to make the kid cry. he’s surprised when heecheon actually passes him to walk ahead, but then taeyang figures that he’s eager to get the reading and find out about his father. he gives heecheon passive, carefully blank looks when he glances back to make sure taeyang is following as they make their way out of the tower and through the school. “i apologise again for the headache i must be causing you. i guarantee that isn’t my intention, i simply wanted to find out the truth and there don’t seem to be a lot of options on how to do that.”

“no one has a lot of options, do they?” taeyang mutters, loud enough so that heecheon can here him before picking up speed to fall in step with the other student. he pushes the sleeves of his hoodie up to dissuade himself from picking at his nails scratching his wrists and tracing his fingers over where the life line of his hand. “and you’re not the only headache so don’t feel too bad. I’m used to it.”

Zico would have liked to ogle the girls participating in the swimming event without Taeyang knowing for 100% sure who he was thinking about but now that Taeyang had pointed things out, it was rather unlike Zico to care about a school festival for any reason other than his own selfish motives. Now that he was thinking more about it…he wondered if he wasn’t just painfully obvious all the time, even when he was trying to be clever and he didn’t know it.

He sighed deeply, rolling his eyes and looking away when Taeyang insisted he go first. He didn’t want to spill his guts, but he also knew it was quite possible his friend wasn’t up to going into detail about what he’d suffered through during the night. “FINE.” he stated gruffly, sounding annoyed even though it was only a mild annoyance. “So maybe there’s a girl I have my eye on…and maybe she’s swimming later,” he grumbled, forcing hypotheticals through a clenched jaw.

“She’s too good for me…so I probably won’t ever talk to her,” he added, glancing at Taeyang as a shit-eating grin spread his lips. “But…they all are, right pal?” he teased, slanted eyes focusing back in on the game playing out in front of them. Taeyang knew all too well that Zico had issues trusting; especially trusting women and his infrequent serious relationships never lasted long.

when zico had first suggested they should attend the school fair festivity nonsense, taeyang had been irritated. it took a couple of days for suspicion to sink in, and now he was more or less exasperated. all this for a girl? and he needed taeyang to be his wingman? of course. this was nothing new for them, taeyang was always zico’s passive shadow, there so zico wouldn’t always seem so obvious when out to pick up chicks. but he didn’t mind, it kept taeyang entertained at the very least.

“there’s always a girl,” taeyang mused, but there’s a teasing edge to his tone and a smirk so zico knows he’s not really serious. whatever zico wants to do or whoever he has affection for, taeyang will never judge (only tease mercilessly). “if she likes you, she’s not too good for you. she’s just right for you.”

he turns to watch the game with zico, noting when the student gets whacked with the bat they actually lose two teeth, not just the one. his arms folded over his chest to keep himself as warm as possible in the misting rain (since he’s honestly too lazy to take out his wand and just cast a few charms), taeyang sighs and wishes he pull out a smoke without getting points redacted from his house.

         Other than that, from the short glimpses and observations of him whenever she saw him in the common room or along the halls, the male seemed to be quite easygoing, a bit opinionated (in a good way) and had a habit of ducking his head whenever he laughed. At Taeyang’s words however, Belle couldn’t help but narrow her eyes as she snapped her book shut. With where her thoughts were going to earlier, the half-Veela couldn’t help but piece together what the male had said to her plans on how to handle the reopening of her case.

           “What did you say?” she says slowly, her voice soft enough so that no one would be able to hear them but her tone containing an undercurrent of possible danger which would befall the male unless he answered her question with the right answer.  “Violence will beget violence, for you are not alone in obtaining aid. That which is deceitful will only bring about your fall.” Was he pertaining to hr plans for Gail’s immediate family? So does that mean she shouldn’t threaten the girl’s family with bodily harm? Because it would only result negatively for her? What should be her next step then? These thoughts swirled through the female’s head, and as she looked up at Taeyang with her hazel orbs, it was obvious that Belle wouldn’t settle for anything less than the truth.

she was veela. taeyang could see it now. could see the talons and wings of dark, unforgiving rage. could see what she’s done and what she is capable of. what she may do. what she could be. what she could do. to him. he wouldn’t be able to escape her- though he would have the advantage of more advanced spells she had the physical prowess to defeat him in any duel.

”what did you say?” there lay the promise of danger in her tone, the softness so things remained between them. they were not alone in the common room after all, a group of second years were just next to them on the second couch and a couple of fourth years had been taking turns around the room the entire time taeyang had been standing before belle. that was her name. belle, a year behind him and top of her class. so much for being able to out-spell her in a duel. she was a transfer and english so happened to not be her first language, though taeyang could not say he knew any gaelic himself. she was dangerous. I wouldn’t win.

he took a step backwards, though still remained in her immediate vicinity so belle would know he wasn’t running off or anything along those lines. what had he said? it was a warning she had beckoned ruin to herself with her thoughts though no actions had been made. yet. the old magic had wanted him to help her, thus pushing for the prophecy to be said. “I warned you. that’s what was said.”

— @taeraven ;

Free period, oh how the young witch adored this time to herself — Luckily enough for her she had no homework nor did she have anywhere to be. She was free to roam around the castle if she pleased, and of course that’s exactly what she wanted to do. She had come to the sudden realization that she had spent the majority of her time in the library, but who could blame her? Today she knew that nobody would be near the astronomy tower so that’s where she would hide out for a few hours.

The top most tower at Hogwarts, there wasn’t any better place to get some fresh air and enjoy the scenery that it provided than right there. She was growing rather excited at the mere thought as she wandered through the hallways with ease, cutting corners until she met the entrance to the stairwell that lead up to the roof. 

Fingers grazed over the stonework of the castle’s walls as she took it one step at a time, going up the spiral staircase. Though she stopped as soon as a foul stench had met her nostrils — What was it? Brows furrowed as she continued to walk further up the stairs, the smell getting stronger and stronger the closer she got. It wasn’t until she came into contact with a male student, adorned in Ravenclaw clothing and a cancer stick between his lips; She knew him — Saw him a lot, even had a couple of classes with him and was partnered up a couple of times with him in said classes. She should have figured the smell was coming from a cigarette, but didn’t quite put two and two together until she saw it sticking out from his lips. It didn’t bother her, merely caught her off guard. “Oh I’m sorry..”, she spoke softly as she bowed her head, eyes fixated on him. 

days when the powers have quieted enough for taeyang to remember himself he does not go to class. he doesn’t do much of anything but find a place to stick a cigarette between his teeth and light it before shutting out the world for the sake of the words he scribbles on pages. he chews through filter after filter, staining his insides black as the ink he drags across parchment.

since I was born I’ve been trapped in here there? something

as his arm grows tired, taeyang begins to slow down and actually edit what he’s been writing for hours now. he’s missed defence against the darks arts and apparation. he muses over what he’ll have to do to make up the missed classes scratching out a few more lines of nonsensical words and replacing as needed to reimagine the flow. he’s just finished lighting another cigarette and changed pages for editing when he hears someone coming up the stairs.

great.

the girl wasn’t a teacher (yes) but she didn’t keep walking (fuck). taeyang didn’t acknowledge her apology, not wanting any conversation to ignite between them so he could get back to work. but the girl was clearly not leaving any time soon, what with the way she decided to even crouch beside him and start scanning what he’s written on the parchment. when she starts talking he closes his eyes to ground himself, not wanting to sigh and make a whole scene out of her hovering. “may I see?”

‘no.’ it’s on the tip of his tongue. he’s ready to say it. ready to tell her to piss off and keep climbing the steps. but taeyang finally meets the girl’s eyes and sees her.

blood status?

taeyang grimaces at the question, hands shoving deeper into the pockets of his cloak as he tips his head back and sighs. “half-blood: pureblood mother, muggle father.”

how did their magic first manifest itself?

“I made toys move on their own as a child,” taeyang mused, rubbing his nose as fuzzy memories of chipped paint on toy cars and half chewed plastic cubes rolling about the floor on his command. “母は幸せになります; it made my mother happy.”

is their extended family composed entirely of magical blood?

here taeyang stood and turned around, arms crossed tightly over his chest as he approached the window and glared out into the darkening sky. “my mother’s family are a japanese pureblood house and very proud of this. my father’s family are made of several generations of middle class koreans that don’t believe in magic.”

what are their parents’ jobs?

“my mother is a dutiful wife.” his father is a construction worker that comes home to his second magical wife and new child taeyang can see it he can see it and he’s bitter but he lets go.

wand characteristics?

“9 inches,” taeyang hums, pulling said wand from his pockets to turn it over in his hands. it’s a muted ivory color with none of the finishing shine many wands have. almost like the maker didn’t get to finish the piece, the wand has groves and twists with no proper handle.  “holly wood with a core of unicorn hair”

how long did it take a wand to choose them?

“when I entered the shop I knew where it was. I walked straight to the shelf and pulled out the box,” he sighs, spinning the wand around a finger. “彼は "奇跡"を言いました。but he was wrong, it wasn’t a miracle.”

if they were to attend a magical school besides hogwarts, which would they choose?

taeyang snorts, shaking his head and a wry grin on his face. “I wouldn’t have gone to a public school if not for the letter I got from here.”

school

which house were they sorted into and how did they feel during the sorting?

“ravenclaw,” taeyang says, eyes distance as he recalls his sorting. “I knew it would happen. I just felt irritated I was sorted along with a hundred first years for all the school to watch.”

how do they feel about their common room and dormitory?

“I miss my privacy but there’s silencing charms for when the other boys get too rowdy.”

do they get along with the rest of their house?

“I don’t talk to anyone. 一人でいるのが好き.”

did they bring a pet? If yes, what?

“no”

how often do they get packages from home?

he laughs at this, and doesn’t even bother answering properly.

have they ever gotten a howler?

“if my mother’s family ever figures out where I am they’re not the type for a public scolding.”

how well do they know the school (secret passageways, shortcuts, etc)?

there’s a teasing glint in his eyes as he turns around, running a hand down the side of a tapestry on the wall before flicking it aside and pressing a stone at just about the height of his hip. instantly, there’s a low groaning and a small section of the floor drops to reveal a stairway into darkness. “marauders map ain’t got shit on me.”

which class(es) do they do best in?

he frowns deeply, gritting his teeth as he mutters the answer. “divination.”

what about worst?

“I have outstandings in every course. I don’t slack off.”

are they the type to gain or lose their house points?

“I don’t gain much but I haven’t lost any.”

are they in any clubs?

“no.”

do they play on their house quidditch team? If yes, what position?

“no.”

how good are they? do they have any rivals on the opposing teams?

“no.”

do they earn detentions often?

“no.”

bonus

what does their patronus look like?

he casts the spell in response to the question, long spools and swirls of silver shooting from his wand to gather into a sleek, striped cat that runs around the room before trotting up to taeyang’s feet and sitting next to them.

talk about a memory they’d use to conjure it:

“my father teaching me to ride a bicycle,” taeyang says quietly, picking his fingernails. it’s one of the only moments he ever shared with the man.

what does amortentia smell like to them?

“soap, burning wood and torn paper.”

can they see thestrals?

“I can,” he says gravely, eyes closing as he rubs at his temples. so much death he’s seen that hasn’t happen but some has and it haunts him. what a gift.

what is their favorite flavor of every flavor beans?

if the triwizard tournament was held during their time at school, would they enter?

“no.”

would they go to the yule ball? who would they ask?

‘no’ is on the tip of his tongue when he pauses, brows furrowing and the ever slightest of blushes tinging his ears. “well, if I was asked. maybe.”

@taeraven

Growing up in the muggle world Wendy had some difficulty with some subjects at Hogwarts, Divination was one of the subjects. She just didn’t have the…seeing eye as they said, she tried hard but she was not making any progress.

It was a class like any other, Wendy was trying to use her orb but it just wasn’t working for her. Scrunching her face in frustration she tried as hard as she could, however she could see she was annoying the teacher with her questions and how it wasn’t working for her, she seemed to be quite behind the rest of the class. 

Sighing she looked up at the teacher making a face at her. She tried to slink down in her chair before she noticed her talking to the boy in a higher grade who was the helper for the class. Whatever she was telling him he didn’t seem happy and was trying to get out of it. She then noticed the teacher point at her and she could feel her face turning bright red as the boy slunk over to her.

more than nearly anything, taeyang hated divination class. he took it because he knew he should, that maybe the class of learning how to expand one’s inner eye could help him to better control his gift. that maybe he could learn to live with it. but, so far, that class had just been an extra large headache. everything about it came remarkably easy for him (since he’d already been privately tutored on much of the subject matters) but he watched his classmates struggle.

he started skipping the class because of how dull he found it all and how much he just didn’t want to fucking be here what a waste of my time I should have picked something else. but the teacher took note, took him aside, asked him to step in as a helper, a teacher’s aide, for some of the younger classes to make up for the missed days. and, begrudgingly, taeyang accepted.

so he found himself spending what used to be a free period helping unproductive fourth and fifth years just get through the class two times a week. no one had any particular talent or drive for the course, taeyang knew this without even trying to read anyone. but there happened to be a particular fifth year on this day working on her own needed not just a partner but someone that could specifically help her. and, after taking taeyang aside to explain as much to him, that partner was to be him.

“di…did she ask you to help me?”…“I am so sorry, I promise to work hard and not be a hindrance.”

there were no limits to heecheon’s curiosity.

not when he was younger, the wind wiping against his cheek as his bare feet took him to the edge of the cliff his mother’s body had been standing on just moments prior. it was curiosity that drove him forward, pure curiosity and confusion. the situation didn’t catch up with him until he was standing right at the edge and looking down at dark waves and blood red crags.

no tears came, just the same blank stare and slowly dawning realisation that his mother would not be coming back.

in the outskirts of paris was, where his grandparents lived. the old couple had a house, much bigger than the one heecheon used to live in, and a garden that stretched far and wide, like an extension of woods. often, the boy used to wander, to get lost, curious and brave — or simply oblivious to any possible dangers. curiosity killed the cat, they kept telling him, the boy looking as apathetic to the cryptic warning as towards everything else. the only thing it did, was make him curious about wether or not it would be curiosity that would drive him off a cliff.

in the end questions like those were pushed aside and left for a later point in time to muse about and consider. only one question, though, was persistent enough to survive all the pushing and wilful forgetting; what about his father. heecheon knew he had one, his mother talked about him often enough for the boy to know that he was still alive and well, but why had heecheon never seen him? the fact didn’t hurt him, per se, it simply made him moody and maybe even disappointed.

that was where an undeniable talent for deviation of one of his classmates came in handy. another ravenclaw, just like him. a closed off and seemingly cold male; heecheon was right away headset on getting the other ravenclaw to help him out. oddly enough, that turned out to be significantly harder than expected.

taeyang avoided him like the pest, refused to do as much as open his mouth and did little more than glance and frown at heecheon whenever he was asking questions. wherever taeyang went, heecheon would follow and the grumpy looking male would do his best to ignore his existence. the last border heecheon decided to cross was when the desperation had build up too high and he simply couldn’t stop the invasive spark in him.

it ended up with the blond boy slipping past the heavy wooden door and into the room he new taeyang shared with some of their peers. it continued with heecheon standing in front of the four poster bed with widened eyes and slightly agape lips, his expression slipping from him for the first time in what seemed as forever as taeyang finally spoke up. the words thrown at his head weren’t what he wanted to hear, nor what he had been hoping for. they were almost cynical in their meaning and all too logical for the still hopeful boy who seemed to be reduced to mere blinking and staring.

❝he doesn’t know?❞ were the only words heecheon seemed capable of saying in that moment; whether he was asking about his father’s knowledge of the cause of his mother’s death or his own existence and whereabouts was left undefined. did he even want to know, was what the question that was burning on the tip of his tongue but refused to leave rose petal lips, his shoulders sagging and head instead hanging in a momentary and rare display of resignation.

the silence of the room grew deafening and all the blond could do was stand there and will the rising feeling of disappointment away. there was no reason for it; they were talking about a man he had never met before and would seemingly also never meet. what reason was there to feel sad about? ❝so i won’t meet him?❞ he questioned again, simply for clarification, voice meek and accent heavily audible through his slightly slurred words. would he even want to?

❝did he even try looking for me?❞ most likely not, or his grandparents would have surely told him where heecheon was. ❝does he even care?❞ all rationality was pushed aside for a lapse of judgement and a moment of vulnerability that felt more than wrong to express in any way of form. and lastly, in a sole moment of absolute clarity, pale brows furrowed together as heecheon fixed the boy in front of him with a stare, the inner turmoil still visible inside his dark eyes. ❝how much do you know?❞

in heecheon, taeyang could see someone he could have been. if he hadn’t been born in a home without love. he hadn’t been cursed gifted with the sight. if he was beautiful. heecheon was an ideal he could never meet and maybe that’s the true reason why taeyang wanted nothing to do with him, his own lack of vanity feeling attacked in heecheon’s presence. but it was no secret to taeyang that he wanted to hide his “talents” and heecheon (the most persistant) was one of a few students that wanted taeyang to share more of himself.

as if he had anything left for himself to live normally anymore.

“he doesn’t know?” the rip of pity through taeyang was nearly overwhelmed by the throb of remorse that echoed from heecheon. a lonely boy on a cliff top. a blond child in a loving house with two parents on a cliffside. a boy’s mother gone. grandparents but no parents. “so I won’t meet him?”

magic stuttered in taeyang at heecheon’s question, and he didn’t know. for once, twice, it happens often enough to please him but not enough to suggest the gift is going anywhere. would he meet him father? would his father find him? he doesn’t know heecheon’s whereabouts not, but does he know he’s alive? yes the grandparents live the father follows the trail but he doesn’t come to his old school does he cross that final line? he has a new life does he need an estranged son?

“how much do you know?” everyone’s favorite question.

“how much do you know,” taeyang retorts, watching the emotions play out on heecheon’s face. “I don’t know you, I don’t know your life. maybe I know things maybe I don’t, but is it your past or future? do I look like a fucking crystal ball.”

he sits back on the bed, rubbing his temples while his mind skips on details and teeters at the edge of heecheon’s life. stray but a little and you will fall. but what would taeyang fall into? insanity? he looks up at heecheon again, pale and perfect and just looking for answers for the hundreds of new questions taeyang’s left him with.

It was one of those days where Mingyu couldn’t be bothered with waking up a tad early to find a spot during breakfast. Yesterday’s practice was particularly rough, despite their victory over Hufflepuff in their last match. Their captain had ordered a special punishment for those who did errors during the game; 10 laps around the field for each errors and other specific punishments depending on their positions. Fortunately, Mingyu only did one error.

But still–10 laps aren’t exactly a small number. Especially after his successful landing that gave him bruises and cuts all over the place.

Dammit… My body just isn’t agreeing with me today. He groaned inwardly, rubbing the back of his neck as he made his way to one of the empty tables near where the Professors sit. He was still clad in his favorite anime sweatshirt and oversized sweatpants since it’s Saturday anyway. His bleary eyes struggled to keep peeled open due to the drowsiness that was settling on his eyelids.

Running his fingers through blue hair, Mingyu made sure to take a glance around his surroundings. Turns out he was sitting beside a brunet who was too preoccupied with his book while muttering something that Mingyu can only make out as a comment towards a couple of boisterous students nearby. Wow, that was harsh how he wished for someone’s wand to snap. He can see where the other was coming from, but really??

But then, a sudden flash of light followed by a loud roar startled Mingyu out of his socks–and his drowsiness, of course. The blue-haired boy turned to face the source of the noise, only to find the exact group of students mentioned sprawled all over the floor with one of them in the middle holding half a wand. Mingyu froze with a slightly gaping mouth, completely shocked by the turn of events.

It actually came true!

In a flash, he was already nudging himself towards the boy beside him. “Hey, that was awesome! How did you know it was going to snap??” This guy is probably really good at Divination… And he knows his wand too! “You’ve got to teach me how–I need that kind of skill for my Divination class!”

if taeyang had born to muggle parents there is the high chance he would have been diagnosed with schizophrenia (if not for the toys he could levitate and the doors that would open on their own of course). as soon as he could talk his words were often cryptic and he would talk about events that had never happened. but they had for him. it wasn’t easy for his mother to define the abilities taeyang has for what they are rather than just figuring her son was touched in the head. he is a seer, and they interpret the world different than the average muggle or magic born because the world is different for them. there’s more than one of them.

there are not voices in his head so much as there are answers and feelings, premonitions and words that come from deep in his soul. they are gifts from the old magic present in every seer, but they come at a kind of cost. taeyang knows and can feel this, isn’t sure what the cost is yet,  however being at hogwarts school of witchcraft and wizardary in the presence of so much more magic and historical influence had been pushing him to the very limits of his sanity.

being here has also made taeyang careless.

“You’ve got to teach me how–I need that kind of skill for my Divination class!”

a weight settles on taeyang’s throat, the voice of his mother berating him for not watching his surroundings echoing in his head as he abruptly stood and started gathering his papers. the blue haired gryffindor was nearly blinding with how bright he shone, the potential just echoing off of him in wave after irritating wave and taeyang didn’t want to have anything to do with it. I need to stop meddling. I need to hide better. I need to be alone.

“you’re tall,” taeyang notes, shoving parchment into the pages of his book and snapping it shut. “and it’s not a skill that can be taught. it’s a talent, either you have it or you don’t.”

hogwarts houses | r a v e n c l a w

It was too much, really.

She turned another corner, almost walking straight into the boyfriend of her current stalker. Unconsciously, Sojin had lifted her hand up as a reflex, it currently lightly brushing against the male’s chest. His expression was already sheepish, but became even more so as he mouthed the words “I’m sorry”.

                                                     “Hey! Get your hands off of my boyfriend, you bitch!”

Oh. That was probably her cue to get the hell out of there. She winked at the boy (just for good measure) and started to dash off down the corridor. Luck was clearly not on her side, and neither was the psycho girlfriend that was probably on her heel again.

With a few swift turns, she found herself climbing the stairs of a small tower. Hogwarts had so many that it was almost impossible for her to differentiate it from other similar nooks and crannies hidden within the massive infrastructure.

After a moment, she heard a faint hum of noise, her gaze falling upon a pair of shoes, then legs, then a quill, and finally a boy’s face. Well. Sojin appeared to be intruding on something here.

         “From psycho bitches to cute boys… This is definitely an improvement.”

he’s stuck on the same passage in hogwarts, a history, just reading it over and over again and trying to focus but taeyang’s ironically never been good with the past of all things. yes, witches and wizards cannot apparate or disapparate on hogwarts grounds. fascinating, why have I read this eight times the grounds are bewitched in this way to keep students and faculty safe but it keeps us trapped too wizards cannot apparate or for fuck’s sake.

“From psycho bitches to cute boys… This is definitely an improvement.”

taeyang flinches so greatly with surprise he almost drops his quill, a sharp line of ink cutting across the parchment from the movement. he mourns the lost work for just a moment, flicking the loose drops of ink from the quill before looking down to meet the eyes of the girl that was climbing up the stairs. she’s beautiful in a way that’s effortless, confidence echoing from her being in a way that makes taeyang almost feel sick. he just wants to toss his ink at her and just ruin the perfection for a moment leave to a place where her perfection doesn’t have to reflect on his unbalanced nature. go away.

“there is no way up from here,” he says softly, wary of disturbing the grey lady and a fair number of other ghosts. “the stairs are all broken, the place is only good for hiding when you want a smoke.”