#sly:zico

[ @slyzico ]

If he had to partner up with Zicovian at all, Joshua would have much rather it have been without the extra burden of pleasing a hippogriff at the same time. In some ways, he lamented, keeping a steady eye on the one they’d chosen - a pretty champagne that brought to mind the Abraxans his mother had always favoured, albeit significantly smaller, closer to Aethonans - he had the strange suspicion that he was dealing with not one but two beings that would keep his on his toes.

It was not a comforting thought.

Still, he bowed low. His pride, in this case at least, was not worth being the meal of a sharp-taloned creature and Joshua considered himself lucky on every front that while not particularly delighted to have to deal with a strange biped she didn’t know, the hippogriff seemed to accept his presence with little fuss and a nod in return.

Good - he would take what he could get. 

☠ = pushing them against a wall

whenever naomi would hand in her scrolls and other types of materials assigned as homework, a delighted smile would grace the professors’ faces, as if they internally had a small dialog with themselves, weighing her worth as a student. and as she by default would serve a slight bow before returning to her seat, so did she gain a few … points? or at least every time classes were over a lingering stare would rest on her, and a pat on the shoulder would definitely wake her up from her heavy daydreaming. and it would always end in some kind of duty that they would neatly wrap into pretty terms such as ‘extracurricular activities‘ to make it sound eventful. a true heroine, carrying bunches of objects down long corridors to different offices! wonderful.

so she could mostly be found roaming the hallways with different objects in her arms, eyes half-open as her determination was wavering somewhere in the air. but apparently someone had other plans with her. a sudden outburst from behind startled her to which she abruptly let out a yelp. her grip tightened as she turned around, brow raised in alarm and displeasure. “please don’t do th–” but her tough act was all in vain; her body in a flash trapped against the cold surface of bricks by a cage of limbs and smug smiles. scrolls flooded their feet and her heart dropped accordingly. “listen, i don’t have time for your conspicuous acts,” she rasped. his superfluous quips were entertaining but the close proximity made her squirm. she crouched, mumbling, “unpredictable, clandestine actions are the worst.” but somehow she was getting used to it.

A flutter of wings and cat-like eyes were scanning the parchment that had been abandoned on his empty dinner plate. As he read the message and the written laughter following, it was like he could actually hear the bizarre sound specific to its author.

No.

He could actually hear it. Zico slowly looked up from the parchment, judgment clear on his face as he stared at the student that was quite literally sitting right across the table from him. Zico blinked as Joonyoung’s…’special’ laughter flooded the surrounding area.

Instantly, memories of the first tattoo he’d given Joonyoung filled his mind. He cringed as he relived the secondhand embarrassment. Still, no matter how questionable Joonyoung’s taste was, he needed the practice. Knowing his cousin as he did, he was sure the design was going to be…unique.

“I’m not doing anything tonight,” Zico answered, rolling his eyes and sighing at how easily he’d caved to Joonyoung’s will after his initial reluctance.

“You owe me a drink first,” he pointed out. Or a few drinks, probably.

Joonyoung's eyes lit up mischievously when Zico agreed to his request. To be fair though, Zico hardly ever refused any suggestion Joonyoung came up with, no matter how crazy it seemed. That was one of the things Joonyoung loved about his cousin. He could rely on him to support him no matter what, even if that meant that Joonyoung often got him into trouble as well.

"This time you're not talking me into doing something different," he insisted, glancing down at his left forearm that bore a tattoo far different from the one he'd originally imagined. It wasn't that he didn't like it, quite the opposite actually, but it was nothing like what he'd originally described to him. "It's going to be huge...like across my whole back," he elaborated with a laugh before leaning across the table a little more toward Zico.

@slyzico

“I don’t really care--” she exhaled, eyes rolling in exasperation as she tried to shrug off the invasive male who had swooped his arm over her shoulder in the hallway. Why he thought she would react well to him whispering in her ear, breathing the forbidden moniker Zico into her skin, she did not know. Everyone in Slytherin had heard about their public altercation in the common room a little while ago. Amélie had done well to smother the obvious curiosity from her peers with her trademark glares but it appeared that some still weren’t getting the hint. 

She didn’t care about Zicovian Blackadder, not one bit. 

But then he said something that curdled her blood. “You laced it with what?” Her face was paler than usual, waxen, as she turned to him. He continued on, bragging about giving Zico a taste of his own medicine, dishing out some revenge to that 'wanker', and ‘Ami, I got him. Aren’t you impressed?’ She didn’t hear much more than that, for she had left him confused and rejected in the hallway as she had ran off in sheer panic-- in terror.

Similarly to herself, Zico liked to be independent, but there were some things they couldn’t face alone. Amélie didn’t know all of his demons, but she knew Zico well enough to know that this was one of the big ones, and some idiot looking for her praise had handed Zico over to the devil on her behalf. She had to find him. He’d been poisoned, he was probably alone, possibly dead... No. Her legs carried her faster as she climbed stairs, fighting away the utter dread of the unthinkable that made her want to scream until her lungs gave out. 

No, no, no. 

“...Zico?” Her voice echoed in the damp, slimy bathroom. She was panting, beads of cold sweat glistening like the tiles she stepped over as she drew nearer to the cubicles, hanging onto thin strings of hope that he was here. She called out again, fearfully, as the strings began to snap. 

⌇ tagged by @slytherinsidemymind to do this thing ⌇

send me  ♊  for a relationship aesthetic of our muses

--- @slyzico ;

For weeks now Miri has become quite close with the Slytherin boy --- Feeling as if she could bestow upon him her deepest, and darkest secrets. And vice versa. Their weekdays consisted of great adventures in the castle, to random weekend visits to Hogsmeade. Thankfully it was one of those weekends where they were out and about at Hogsmeade, enjoying their free time away from the beautiful castle they spend most of their time at.

A soft sigh of content brushed past her lips as she allowed her fingers to wrap around the glass of firewhiskey --- Dark brown orbs fixated on his face as she took in his features. “Ahh, I’m so glad it’s the weekend, aren’t you?” She questioned the other before lifting the drink up to her lips and tossing it back rather quickly --- She was a complete lush. Loved to drink, but didn’t handle herself very well. Always ended up making awkward jokes and dancing around like a dork after a few alcoholic beverages settled in her. Tonight though, she was hoping to take it slow so she could actually enjoy herself without seeming like a damned fool in front of everyone; Especially Zico. 

The two were at a reasonable distance, making jokes and of course drinking as much as they could. With each conversation she felt closer to him, more than happy to have him in her life; Almost as if he were a missing piece to a puzzle lost so long ago --- She was okay until she somehow was closer to him. She didn’t know if she had unintentionally scooted closer, or if he had moved while her attention was somewhere else. The sudden closeness though made her feel odd --- Her heart began to race as she stared up at the other. It wasn’t until then did it hit her, this unfamiliar feeling tugging at her heart. She didn’t know what it was, and simply wanted to question it, but instead remained silent and freaked out a little bit on the inside.

@slyzico​

He’d been avoiding her, she knew it. She was very much aware of how he had only made sparse appearances in the Slytherin common room, and that it was hardly a coincidence he always seemed to be walking away whenever they were in close proximity. Like opposing ends of the magnet, she pulled and he pushed. Nothing much had changed in that regard.

However, Amélie wouldn’t be Amélie if she wasn’t determined and annoyingly persistent. Eventually they’d have to confront each other. She knew that all she had to do was catch his gaze and he’d concede. She couldn’t go on like this for much longer, the anticipation was eating at her insides. 

So the young witch waited all day, her ass seated on a chair in central alignment of the entrance to the common room. Everyone who had walked in had met her gaze, so she knew her plan was foolproof, which meant it was most certainly Zico-proof. Amélie was strategic in almost every aspect of her life, but one particular facet she hadn’t accounted for was the nerves. 

For an hour, her finger rattled against the armrest as she tried to shake out the little electric jolts that continued to shoot right up to the tips of her digits. She told herself it was merely her frustration bubbling over-- she had never really been a patient person. But then, a familiar pair of eyes appeared in her vision and her fingers stopped, the nerves coiled in her stomach and she slowly stood up from her seat, almost as if she were an expectant queen rising from her throne.