& DARK ╱ LIGHT ❞

[nikolaism]

—   ᴇᴛʜᴀɴ  /  ᴍɪsᴀ​   —

  [ ✂ ]

         she stays silent for the most part && lets nikolai talk, her own expression one of amusement with a pinch of ‘yikes’ mixed into the pot. this was their fight now && as much as she would’ve loved to slip away under the cover of the SUFFOCATING tension in between the two, her curiousity ( && ethan’s arm)  keeps her in place.

                                                                                ( men are so DRAMATIC. )

                                                         ( . . . )

        ❝  two housemates on a date ,  how …  cute . ❞  the insincerity leans heavy near the end of his sentence , gaze bouncing between the two before setting on his girl .  ❝  if i didn’t know better ,  i’d think yeun here was trying to snatch you up ,  darling . ❞  he laughs ,  loud and cold ,  at the irony of nikolai’s big bad wolf costume to misaka’s red riding hood  –  it should be amusing .  ❝  funny thought , isn’t it  ?   ❞

    there’s a miniature pause ,  before he cocks his head to the side in thought . ❝  not that i’d put it past him . ❞  

            his mind sputters, his blood thickens.  there’s a strong metallic taste in his mouth  &  a dull ache that lingers at the tip of his tongue.  for some time, he doesn’t register the twinge of pain;  hell, he doesn’t even notice the subtle change in his own expression  ( a scrunched up nose, a furrowed brow ).  his head and---god forbid---his heart are both far too preoccupied with the vile undertones seeping through the pauses of ethan’s insults.  it’s scathing, scalding.  &&  like how he didn’t register biting his tongue ‘til it bled, he doesn’t immediately register snapping back:  ❝ she’s not your damn toy. ❞  ------to use against me are the words left hovering in silence between them.

            but isn’t he doing the exact same thing?  it’s funny.  ironic, even.  he has himself convinced that he’s doing this for misa too---that all their hushed scheming in private corridors was for their shared amusement.  yet, here they are:  him, standing to the side, nursing that dull ache in his mouth that is sure to turn sore once he comes to  &  them, standing in proximity, hands intertwined, close, intimate, together.  his gaze drops to meet misa’s own, and the cold look in his eyes tells all.  why aren’t you resisting?

             it dawns on him that misa doesn’t hate ethan as much as he does.

             of course, she doesn’t---------

                                                   ethan still calls her lovebug,                                    while nikolai has been cruelly demoted to yeun.

            gone are the days when ethan would greet him with hello, dearest.  gone are the days when ethan would care, even if it was pretend.  &&  it confuses him.  ethan kudou has a reputation - one that misa is sure to know about.  the question now becomes why did she agree to date him?  he had never thought to ask her  &  had always assumed she was doing it to play ethan right back.  this was her chance to do so, to resist, but she didn’t---and that doesn’t sit well with him.

            ❝ misa, ❞  he starts, words and demeanor a lot more composed than his previous outburst.  ❝ let’s go. ❞  though he says this, he doesn’t reach out to her;  he wants her to make that move.  a test of sorts . . . to see where her loyalties lie.  not quite wanting to see her expression though, he peers back up at ethan.  ❝ you weren’t planning on entertaining her for the evening anyway, so allow me to. ❞  he tilts his head ever so slightly, mimicking his counterpart’s provocative behavior from earlier.  ❝ shouldn’t be a problem, since we’re just two housemates on a date. ❞

[nikolaism]

—   ᴅᴜsᴛʏ  ,  @bvbblin​   —

            for a ravenclaw seeker, his strategy is rather deceitful in nature.  where he lacks in strength and endurance, he excels in speed, agility, and most importantly, composure.  his tactics capitalize upon these traits in the form of simple mind games:  feints galore---he’d lead opposing seekers into ridiculously fast nosedives and chases  &  if not that, terribly close calls with bludgers and other players.  and he would do so until they lose composure.  the more apprehensive---the more precarious---the other becomes, the more likely they are to make mistakes.  and in sports like quidditch, the smallest mistake  &  the slightest delay in reaction time could result in a loss.

            the beauty of his strategy is that everyone knows about it by now, but even then, no one has truly found a way to offset it.  once he jets off, he leaves his counterpart with two immediate options:  one - attempt to race him at top speed and risk getting injured if he’s faking, or two - stay back and stay safe, but risk losing the snitch.  his ever-stoic expression comes in handy here---it’s rare that someone’s able to discern whether he’s seen the snitch or not.  &&  but of course, his strategy doesn’t come without its innate flaws.  sometimes, when he’s pulling a feint, the other seeker would spot the snitch and go after that.  usually, he’d race after them------today just happens to be the exception.

            he ends his fake nosedive with two feet planted firmly on the ground  &&  a few seconds later, the crowd donning bright canary yellow erupts in cheers.  the final score?  180-30.  hufflepuff wins by snitch alone.

            his quick resignation is met with frustration, disappointment.  disbelief.  “you could’ve at least tried,”  one of his teammates hisses, mid-land.  he turns to them, eyes sharp, words sharper:  ❝ are you actually surprised? ❞  he’s been late to practice the last three times  ( arguably by choice! ),  so is this really shocking behavior for nikolai yeun?  with a scoff, he turns away  &  in an unfortunate twist of events, comes face-to-face with the quidditch captain himself.  ❝ i suppose you have some choice words for me, too. ❞  for the first time in a while, he’s the one who has lost composure.  ❝ i don’t want to hear it, dustin. ❞

[nikolaism]

—   ᴊᴜɴ   —

he slowly side-eyed the person who replied to his question. of all people for him to mindlessly speak to, it just had to be nikolai. jun had nothing against niko personally, but after so many years of their families detesting each other, the dislike for him kind of just stuck. his expression shifted to disgust at the other boy even suggesting jun would wear such a horrid style. “no, i’m the son of hades.” he looked down and examined his outfit—it was very dark and goth. to his annoyance, it reminded him of niko’s usual choice of style. the similarity was unsettling for him. he should’ve just gone with his original idea to wear a suit. it wouldn’t have been a costume, but at least he’d look decent. “but now that i look at it, it does remind me of your choice of clothing. no wonder i was so revolted with it.” 

          wrong.   he may dress like a linkin park stan from the late-2000s, but he’d never wear black with brown.   that’s a fashion ᴀᴛʀᴏᴄɪᴛʏ . . . at least, according to his mother  ( & he has to believer her, right?   she is his mother, after all ).   but ah, he can play along:  ❝ you’re not the only one who’s revolted. ❞   the outfit doesn’t look bad on jun at all---ᴅɪғғᴇʀᴇɴᴛ, yes, but not bad.   ❝ didn’t think you’d have this shade in your wardrobe.   what would your father say? ❞   not that nikolai knows jun’s father, but he’s heard enough from his own father to deliver an insult at jun’s expense.   ❝ perhaps not much, since ɢᴏɪɴɢ ʀᴏɢᴜᴇ is expected behavior for your family. ❞

[nikolaism]

—   ᴀᴅʀɪᴀɴ  / ᴍɪsʜᴀ   —

          misha once indeed a light hearted, cheery boy——a little unsightly sight in durmstrang when most of them seems to be just as broody as nikolai was, like his father was, like all his siblings. red cherries cheeks, gentle daisy lips that bloomed an endless smile every chance given, warm crescent moon shaped eyes with equally warm colour it has that illuminate kindness and gentleness within; that was mellow misha.  ( ... )

                                   the blood coursing through his veins teeters,                                         and the final sliver of doubt perishes:

                                                   misha is telling the truth.

          he doesn’t need further confirmation from the veritaserum;  the confession is effortless in filling the gaps of the horrific narrative.   it’s a seamless story---one that he’s sure to figure out if he had put any effort into piecing together the sparse details.   he remembers his father mentioning the incident to him in passing.   sixth year, snuggled in the corner of the library, right next to the fireplace, he received a message from his father with four cold words:  the moons are dead.   at the time, he didn’t give it much thought.   his friendship with misha moon was but a flickering memory  &  no doubt an old, tarnished one.   he remembers putting the message out of sight and out of mind.   it’s a tragedy, but it’s not his tragedy.

          in retrospect, he should’ve known then and there.

          his father’s much like him---a man of few words, and a man who avoids meddling in other people’s affairs.   the incident must have rocked him to the core for him to reach out to nikolai about it.   and when misha waltzed in through the doors of hogwarts his seventh year, donning the name adrian kwon and the title beauxbatons transfer, he should’ve made the connection.   misha’s not hiding his affiliation with durmstrang;  he’s hiding his involvement with the massacre that stole each moon’s last breath.

          the realization hits him.   misha killed his own father to protect himself.   the act in itself is an echo of durmstrang diginity, durmstrang pride.   lulled in a state of subtle sedation, he comes to understand his mother.   this is what she fears.   this ruthlessness, this apathy.

          silence becomes him.   his gaze fixates on the scar, and though his expression remains unchanged, the fluctuation of his heart is proof of his apprehension.   misha must’ve felt it with his fingers curled around nikolai’s throat  ( an unpleasant warmth masking the cold that lies underneath ).   mindlessly, he reaches up and brushes a thumb along the scar.   it has healed by now, but the impression left behind is perhaps deeper than the cut itself.   his hand stills.   it’s a tragedy, he reminds himself, but it’s not his tragedy.   it’s not his place to pity the unfortunate---isn’t that the mindset durmstrang instills in its students?   ha.

          the silence that becomes him is now taut.   ❝ ------wolf, ❞   he says finally, hand slipping away from misha’s neck.   ❝ i’m the wolf from little red riding hood. ❞   though he utters this, he can’t help but feel that the real wolf stands before him.   misha---small, delicate, mellow misha---is going to bite his fucking head off.   but for some reason unbeknownst to him, the realization fails to rattle him like it should;  instead, he closes his fingers around misha’s wrists and draws them away from his own throat.   ❝ there’s fire in your eyes, but your threats are empty. ❞   he believes what misha said about killing his father, but he doesn’t necessarily believe that he’d be hunted for his knowledge.   not my tragedy, his mind supplies once more, not my concern.

          then why is he pressing?   why does he care?   maybe hogwarts did soften him up.

          he drops his grasp around misha’s wrists, and in the same breath, leans in close to his counterpart’s ear.   ❝ you don’t scare me. ❞   his words are soft, subdued in the presence of strain.   ❝ nice try, misha. ❞   he steps back then, the glint in his eyes unveiling what little triumph he’s gained from the assertion.   it doesn’t last long, though;  he catches himself glancing over misha’s own outfit.   ❝ dead royalty? ❞   it’s either that or vampires.

[staqnance]

character aesthetic: MISHA / NIKOLAI      (  durmstrang boys /  hogwarts boys  )

                                     ———- @nikolaism

[nikolaism]

jollygreenseo‌:

🐯🎃

[nikolaism]

—   ᴀᴅʀɪᴀɴ  /  ᴍɪsʜᴀ   —

          hair of silver stars coloured strands, the colour of delicacy and royalty. midnight lashes flares out, casting branches of shadows upon protruding cheekbones. curved softly into his face. eyes of hazel and ebony wood jewels his features and blossomed lips dance with forgotten joy, dance with the scene of tonight. 

CONT.

          even in such an elated state, nikolai is certain he has two facts straight:  fact one - misha is under the influence of the truth serum, and fact two - misha, despite being on the truth serum, has promptly threatened him with murder.   now, nikolai may be a little slow on the uptake due to an inexplicable turn of events  ( read: accepting another drink after his encounter with ethan ), but he’s not delirious to the point of indifference.   ❝ kill me?   you wouldn’t. ❞   he reasons the truth serum doesn’t work on threats, because threats are neither truths nor lies.   never mind the fact that misha said will instead of can.   ❝ i remember what they used to call you, y’know, back in our first year:  mellow misha. ❞   a cute nickname for a cute kid, but now that misha’s grown, it’s more like mysterious misha.   or perhaps even apprehensive adrian, if they really want to play this identity game.

          despite addressing the threat with a flippant remark, something still doesn’t sit right.   his eyes narrow, his gaze intensive, intrusive.   then it hits him:   ❝ what do you mean ‘before they kill me’? ❞   who are they?   to his knowledge, no one at hogwarts is that dangerous.   sure, he’s heard rumors of students hexing the hell out of another student---but no one has done so with murderous intent  ( save maybe emery, but that’s yet to be confirmed by the accused himself ).   ❝ don’t get it, ❞   he says after a brief pause to digest what’s been uttered.   ❝ what does me calling you misha have anything to do with that?   ‘m missing something big here. ❞   no longer heeding his counterpart’s warning of how this position might ruin his reputation, nikolai leans in.   the area is dimly lit, but he can still see every crevasse, every subtle change, in misha’s expression.

          ❝ look at me. ❞   the command is soft, the faintest trace of concern lacing each syllable enunciated.   ❝ i know you can’t lie, so tell me:  why can’t i call you misha? ❞

[nikolaism]

—   ʏᴜᴋᴏ   —

commitment was not one of yuko’s best traits of the night. jumping from person to person, she had no intention of keeping the company of only one person. instead, the amount of time she stayed with someone was solely dependent of the amount of fun she was having with said person or group. if she wasn’t enjoying herself, she found herself roaming to the treats and beverages once again to search for new company with someone else she knew or wanted to know. 

she picked up a chocoball — one of her favorite treats — and examined it before popping it in her mouth. complete and utter joy engulfed her. chocoballs were one of the greatest food creations ever made. her eyes searched her surroundings, taking in the sight of the people near her. her hand began to reach for another treat, but as she took notice of niko and his costume, she stopped halfway. was he dressed as a wolf? her face lit up and she excitedly rushed through the crowd of people over to his side. “niko!” she called out, announcing her arrival. “we’re both furries!” she pointed to the bunny ears on top of her head with a wide smile on her face. 

          ɪɴᴅᴇᴇᴅ, they’re both donning animals ears to complete their costume---buuut he wouldn’t necessarily say they’re furries.   he knows a thing or two about actual furries  ( a true ravenclaw at heart:  he couldn’t pass up the opportunity to do research on what his housemates had been giggling about for three days straight ),  and he can say for a ғᴀᴄᴛ that their costumes are comparatively lacking in effort.

          still, the thought’s funny enough to make him laugh.   ( him?   laughing?   with three servings of ғɪʀᴇᴡʜɪsᴋᴇʏ down, it’s more likely than one would think! )

          ❝ we’d bring shame to the furry community. ❞   he gestures between them, indicating her rather . . . scandalous choice of attire, and his . . . not-so-scandalous one.   ❝ most of them don actual fursuits from head to toe, so they kinda look more like animal mascots--- ❞   explanation dying on his lips, he peers around the chamber in search of a certain ᴛʀɪᴏ he’d seen earlier.   ah, there they are.   he jabs a finger in the direction of the three bears.   ❝ those are furries. ❞

[nikolaism]

—   ᴍᴏᴏɴsɪᴋ  ,  @moonahn​   —

          he’s------on the fuckin’ ғʟᴏᴏʀ.   not because he wants to, but because he’s really, really tired and the ravenclaw tower is just so far away.   besides, it’s not like he’d be able to get into the tower in the first place;  he’s far too gone to even process sarcasm, let alone a damn ʀɪᴅᴅʟᴇ.   so here he is, on the fuckin’ floor, right next to moonsik who’s surprisingly doing a lot better, considering he’s not the one who face-planted after a few drinks.

          ❝ can we play somethin’ else?   i’m neveeer gonna win at never have i ever, ‘cause my momma raised me ʀɪɢʜᴛ. ❞   no shade, of course.   ❝ let’s do truth or dare, okay?   works, ‘cause i can’t lie, and you’re on that giggly juice or wha’ever. ❞   he pushes himself up into a sitting position, and in the same moment, decides moonsik’s fate:   ❝ i know you’re gonna choose dare, sooo i dare you to . . . dunno, sᴍᴇʟʟ ᴍʏ ᴀʀᴍᴘɪᴛ? ❞

[nikolaism]

—   ᴀᴅʟᴇʏ  ,  @adl3y​   —

          nikolai is drunk out of his goddamn mind.   how many drinks has he had?   a good question:  two, maybe three?   he can’t remember.   not that it really matters ‘cause well . . . it just doesn’t matter.   what matters, or what should matter, is making sure ɴᴏ ᴏɴᴇ finds out  ( he’s rather susceptible to suggestions  &  who knows what would happen if people took advantage of that? ).   in retrospect, it shouldn’t be too hard;  he looks perfectly normal - perfectly sᴏʙᴇʀ - leaning against the wall, and as long as he stays here until he feels better--

          wait, is that adley?   oh yes, that’s adley  &  for some reason unbeknownst to him, he wants to talk to the guy.   they’re not even friends, hell, they’re not even in the same house.

                                                       ah, well, whatever.

          ❝ oi, hey . . . adley! ❞   he pushes himself off the wall and makes his way over, stumbling only twice in the process---ᴀ ʀᴇᴄᴏʀᴅ!   ❝ hey, man, hey.   just wanted to talk. ❞   he clasps a hand on adley’s shoulder  &  gives it a firm squeeze.   if he were anyone else, this could’ve been seen as a chummy ol’ greeting, but since he’s nikolai, it’s quite ᴇᴠɪᴅᴇɴᴛ he’s just using the other to steady himself.

          he’s seriously, seriously plastered, and he definitely doesn’t want adley to know that.   so to override suspicions, he says,   ❝ i’m drunk. ❞   wait, no - that’s not what he meant to say.   ❝ i’m drunk. ❞   sʜɪᴛ, the truth serum.   ❝ okay, okay.   you got me, i’m actually drunk. ❞

[nikolaism]

—   ᴍɪsʜᴀ  ,  @miiiishas   —

          if anyone asks, he’d tell them the ᴛʀᴜᴛʜ:  he does not have an inkling of how he got here.   of course, he remembers arriving to the party with misa  ( arm-in-arm, a spectacular sight, indeed )  &  of course, he remembers eventually exchanging her pleasant company for yet another goblet of firewhiskey---but everything beyond that has subsided to ɪɴᴅɪsᴛɪɴᴄᴛ impressions.   did he have a spat with ethan?   most likely, yes;  that’s within his character.   did he climb through the basilisk skeleton because moonsik dared him to?   with enough firewhiskey, reasonably yes;  but he’s not too sure.   that’s where his memory falters.

          and what he’s doing now, he’s certain to forget.   for a chamber this big and a crowd this dense, he chooses to corner misha above all else.   he’s got one arm resting against the wall, juuust barely above the other man’s head.   what more, he’s got a ᴡɪᴄᴋᴇᴅ look in his eye, one that inevitably reads trouble.   the first word that rolls off his tongue is confirmation of such:  ❝ mishaaa. ❞   his name sounds so familiar, yet so foreign at the same time.   ( how is that possible? )

          time changes people, experience changes people------but at what point does an encounter ᴛʀᴀɴsғᴏʀᴍ someone?

          eight years have passed since their initial meeting, which consisted of a firm handshake  &  an unspoken vow to dominate the other in durmstrang’s honorary entrance duel.   they were fine then.   but something has changed.

                                                    adrian kwon now exists.

                                       &  nikolai is determined to find out why.

          ❝ miiishaaa, ❞   he drawls again, this time a bit louder.   ❝ that’s your name. ❞   the faintest trace of an impish smile tugs at the corners of his mouth as he points to himself with his free hand.   ❝ truth serum, ᴄᴀɴ'ᴛ ʟɪᴇ. ❞

[nikolaism]

—   ᴇᴛʜᴀɴ  /  ᴍɪsᴀ​   —

     *     IT’S  LIKE  A  CHANT ,  telling himself misaka can do what she wants and he has no right dictating who she hangs out with or not  –  even now as he comes to the daunting realization his current girlfriend and ex-boyfriend decided to match costume concepts and show up as dates .   it feels akin to a conspiracy , even though he’s aware he hadn’t bothered reaching out to the girl to see if she’d decide to grace the room with their presence ;  instead he’d absently deemed it  not her scene .  the plastic cup he’d been entertaining stays scrunched up in his hand ,  brow twitching as his eyes revert back to staring at the newly arrived  ‘ couple ’ ,  it’s like a countdown ticking down till he bursts .

     tick tock tick tock   ——   he deems two minutes is long enough ,  considers it a new record in fact ,  before he’s tossing the  (  thankfully empty  )  cup to the side and approaching the pair with little attempt put in concealing the emotion brewing under his skin ,  eyes narrowing just the slightest .  ❛  lovebug , ❜  he comments first ,  offering a  sincere  smile in greeting to the female .  he shuffles close enough so he can sling an arm around her shoulders ,  conveying innocence as he stares down at her in question ,  eyes flickering to her companion’s face with a flicker of territorial disgruntle in his gaze .  ❛  i didn’t know you two were …  acquainted . ❜   (  @nikolaism  &&   @entcphile  )

                                                                 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐛𝐮𝐠. 

          he wants to jinx ethan just for uttering that.

                                                                𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄𝐁𝐔𝐆.

          it sits ʀɪɢɪᴅ on his mind---a sound testament to its impact.   he frowns:  brow creasing ever so slightly, corners of lips twitching.   annoyance.   it hasn’t even been an hour since the party’s commencement, and he’s already feeling a ᴛᴡɪɴɢᴇ of irritation.   how is this fair?   tonight’s supposed to be his and misa’s night of delirious decisions  &  perpetual pettiness;  getting annoyed by ethan is no where on that agenda------and yet, here he is, the motherfucker.

          he practices restraint, perfects discipline:  in just a moment, he subdues the growing impulse to reach over and snake an arm around misa’s waist to pull her back.   but they’re not that close  &  must he be reminded for the second time tonight, he doesn’t intend to sᴛᴇᴀʟ her from ethan.   the arrangement these two have is far too peculiar for it to be genuine---this, he’ll stand by.   whisking misa away would, at worst, make ethan peevish for a day;  but then, in typical ethan fashion, he’d move onto the next conquest. 

          ( he practices restraint, perfects discipline:  the familiarity of this hypothetical end doesn’t make him angry anymore---just ʙɪᴛᴛᴇʀ, and unpleasantly so. )

          he settles on words as his ᴡᴇᴀᴘᴏɴ.   they are, in his experience, more striking than hands will ever be.   ❝ i could say the same about you and misa.   if i didn’t know any better, i would’ve thought that you two were . . . ❞   he quirks an eyebrow.   ❝ ---acquaintances at best. ❞

                                                           𝐋 𝐎 𝐕 𝐄 𝐁 𝐔 𝐆 .

          the sheer memory of that pet name brings forth an unfathomable wave of spite.   but he stays calm, stays focused.   ❝ i was under the ɪᴍᴘʀᴇssɪᴏɴ that you intended to avoid us the entire night . . . considering how long it took you to come over.   what changed? ❞   was it when he intertwined his fingers with misa’s own and tugged her along?   was it the somewhat protective hand on her lower back as he guided her through the crowd?   or was it the way his head dipped---hair falling to curtain his eyes, so only the most sᴜʙᴛʟᴇ smirk could be seen---to whisper sweet nothings into her ear?   whatever it was, something brought ethan here  &  that something is surely lurking beneath that damn smile.

[nikolaism]

—   ᴊᴜɴ​   —

considering his date was costume matching with her friends for the night, jun was left to decide on a costume for himself. in the end, he’d chosen a character from a muggle book series he’d read during his childhood–nico di angelo. such an outfit wasn’t one jun would be seen in for his every day life. in fact, he’d been so uncomfortable with his own choice, he’d started a pre-party with himself just to have the will to walk out of the ravenclaw tower wearing the costume–ripped black skinny jeans, black shirt with a faded skull on it, dark brown leather jacket, black combat boots (he would not be caught dead or alive wearing battered converse), and his hair messily hanging down over his forehead. 

in the chamber of secrets with a drink in hand, he stared down at the bones of the dead beast. it was the first time he’d seen the remains in person with his own two eyes. fascinating. “how many faint-hearted younger years do you think have soiled themselves at the sight of this skeleton?” he asked the nearest person, not paying any mind to who they were as his eyes were glued to the basilisk. 

          he peers over at the bones and thinks that’s unfortunate.   imagine being sʟᴀɪɴ by a twelve year old  &  then having drunk teens dance around your corpse years later---that’s the real tragedy.   then again, basilisks don’t have feelings, so it’s not that bad.

          what is kinda bad is the person he’s with.   ᴊᴜɴ ᴘᴀʀᴋ.   he doesn’t hate the guy, per se, but his father---a respectable, kind man---would be more than happy to throw a few hexes at jun’s entire family.   buuut as long as the topic of family doesn’t come up, they should be fine.

          the wolf ears on his head twitch  ( bewitched to move simultaneously with his eyebrows -- a sᴜʀᴘʀɪsɪɴɢʟʏ hard charm that he’s rather proud of pulling off last minute ).    ❝ ------how many? ❞   he echoes softly, almost as if he’s actually thinking about the answer.  ❝ probably not more than the number that soiled themselves upon seeing you.  what are you supposed to be, anyway? ❞   he peers over to judge jun’s costume in full.   black on top of black on top of brown.   is jun . . . is jun dressing up as him?   he squints.   ❝ are you a ɢᴏᴛʜ? ❞

[nikolaism]

will you look at that! good job in picking the BLACK goblet. firewhiskey goes down with a good burn doesn't it? this one in particular has a little something extra in it just for you—seems like a sort of mild TRUTH SERUM that makes you more so susceptible to telling the truth than usual! huh, interesting. well, you certainly don't have to thank me. have a lovely night!!

          ❝ … ❞   he downs the firewhiskey;  finally, he can say what’s on his mind  &  get away with it.   or so he thinks.

[nikolaism]

—   ᴍɪsᴀ  ,  @entcphile​   —

          nikolai yeun, a man of very few words and even fewer talents, has successfully scored a date with a girl.   ɴᴇᴠᴇʀᴍɪɴᴅ the fact that they’re not actually dating  &  ɴᴇᴠᴇʀᴍɪɴᴅ the fact that they’re only here---arms linked, costumes a-matching---just to piss a certain person off.   no;  what really, truly matters is that he shows up with misa and misa shows up with him.   an unlikely pair, indeed.

                                                        the    party’s     loud ,                                                        ( it’s not their scene. )

          he surveys the area, spots their target not too far away, and finds himself sᴍɪʟɪɴɢ as he takes a sip of his firewhiskey.   there are many simple pleasures in life  &  pissing ethan off just happens to be one of them.

                                   ( nothing brings him and misa closer together. )

          ʟɪᴘs ᴛᴡɪᴛᴄʜɪɴɢ out of amusement, he turns to his counterpart and leans down close to her ear.   ❝ if i make you uncomfortable, tell me. ❞   he has spent a considerable amount of time observing others  &  the one thing he has learned is that sᴜʙᴛʟᴇᴛʏ is key.   ❝ let’s grab a bite. ❞   he straightens up, and in the same motion, moves to lace his fingers with misa’s own.

          her hands are small.   ᴅᴇʟɪᴄᴀᴛᴇ.   and he wonders---for the briefest moment---how nicely they fit into ethan’s.

[nikolaism]

[nikolaism]

—   ᴇᴛʜᴀɴ  ,  @dauntfvl   —

          he has the audacity to bump into ethan and snarl,   ❝ watch where ʏᴏᴜ'ʀᴇ going. ❞

          it’s been a few weeks since their fight  &  approximately three days after the qudditch incident.   to say that nikolai’s over it  ( over him )  is an understatement.   he’s pissed - rightfully so;   the bastard he now calls his ex tried to break him---twice.   ethan had succeeded the first time, of course he had, but nikolai knew ethan liked playing games  &  he’d be damned if he granted ethan the sᴀᴛɪsғᴀᴄᴛɪᴏɴ of seeing him feel.

          so he shut himself down,                     paced the corridors with no conscious memories of what they ᴡᴇʀᴇ.

          but ethan, the son of a bitch, is always one step ahead.   the quidditch incident confirmed it.   to this day, they’ve yet to identify who was responsible for charming a bludger to go after ravenclaw’s seeker.   but nikolai knew.   he knew immediately.   ( he remembers looking down and catching ethan’s steady gaze just as the bludger ᴡʜɪᴢᴢᴇᴅ past his head  &  he remembers wishing, in that exact moment, for it to knock him out so he didn’t have to remember them. )

          he hasn’t told anyone about the culprit - not the professors, not his teammates, and certainly not dustin.   reacting meant ʟᴏsɪɴɢ.

          and for these last three days, he thought he’d won.   thought he’d finally pulled ahead.   but then rumors began circulating about ethan dating misa  &  he fucking lost it.

          the restraint he had carefully molded to ᴘᴇʀғᴇᴄᴛɪᴏɴ over these weeks was suddenly shattered.   he was furious  ( is furious )  - first at misa for betraying him, but then at ethan after concluding that misa’s nothing more than a pawn used in his ᴄʜᴇᴄᴋᴍᴀᴛᴇ.   still, it’s this one move that puts nikolai in a predicament:  should he react, or should he defend?

                                                    he chooses to react.

         which is precisely why he rams his shoulder into ethan’s as he passes  &  hisses watch where you’re going.   and it is also precisely why he pauses mid-step, turns his head ever so slightly to look over his shoulder, and says,   ❝ it’s embarrassing to see you this ᴅᴇsᴘᴇʀᴀᴛᴇ. ❞   game on.