Life is playing this "let's spend a shit amount of time at the thing that is supposed to be done in like ten minutes" game with me again and I'm getting really fucking tired of it
If you could instantly be granted fluency in 5 languagesânot taking away your existing language proficiency in any way, solely a gainâwhat 5 would you choose?
âWhich household says that they want to bring Choi Han into their family?â
Blood ties, hometown ties, and school ties.
The strongest of those ties were blood ties, so the strongest and most certain way to split Choi Han away from the Henituse household while getting him on their side would be to marry their daughter to Choi Han and become a part of his family.
Unfortunately, this was still a society where such a thing worked.
If I had a nickel for every time Han was in the bathroom when 3racha won an Asia Artist Award, I'd have two nickelsâwhich isn't a lot, but it's weird that it happened twice.
This is the first time in a few years that i actually tried to write something and it doesn't have a beginning or an end, i can't even say that it's a wip, but i think it's not so bad to write anything at all after all this time.
I might be out of trends but i really like hp!aus, i have a hp!au planned in every of my fandom, but i've never feel inclined enough to actually put them to words.
A white streak flashed in the sky, like a falling star, and the next moment a long elegant broom hovered in front of Xie Lian. The polished shaft reflected the moonlight, and at the very end of it was painted a realistic red eye. The twigs also seemed red, though in the dim light it was hard to see. For a moment Xie Lian admired the broom: it looked more like the weapon of a cultivator from the Chinese novels his mother read (and sometimes he did too). It seemed to vibrate slightly, ready to move at any second.
âWell, gÄge, how do you like my demonic broom?â Hua Cheng asked with a smile. âImpressive?â
âVery,â Xie Lian answered honestly. âI havenât seen such a beautiful broom in a long time.â Maybe he imagined it, but the broom seemed to tremble more at his words. âThis is Eâming, isnât it?â
A few days ago, Xie Lian went to the school library and looked through old issues of the Daily Prophet and Quidditch Today. Naturally, a player like Hua Cheng was often mentioned. The Daily Prophet was full of gossip, while Quidditch Today praised his skills endlessly. They wrote a lot about Eâming too. Aside from technical details about speed and air resistance, the main point was always the same: the Ghost Kingâs broom was just as terrifying as he was. One rumor even said Hua Cheng had used dark magic and blood sacrifices to make it.
âYouâve heard of it, gÄge?â Hua Cheng asked with the same smile.
Xie Lian didnât want to go into details, so he said vaguely:
âIâve read a thing or two.â
âNothing good, I guess,â Hua Cheng laughed shortly. âSomething about bloody rituals and forbidden magic, right?â
âSan Lang is as sharp as ever.â
âOh, Iâve just read those trashy articles too. Believe me, gÄge, none of that is true.â
In fact, many professional Quidditch players didnât buy ready-made brooms â unless they had a sponsorship contract. They usually custom ordered them from craftsmen or big broom makers. Some players enchanted their own, but that was a rare case. Making a broom wasnât just a couple of spells â it required a lot of knowledge. Xie Lian suspected Hua Cheng was one of those few, which only increased his admiration.
âMay I?â He reached out to the broom but didnât touch it without permission. When Hua Cheng nodded, Xie Lian carefully brushed the smooth shaft with his fingertips. The broom trembled clearly under his touch, so it hadnât been his imagination before. The painted eye suddenly came alive and squinted, as if pleased, making Xie Lian gasp softly in surprise. âSan Lang, does it always do that?â
âDonât mind it, gÄge, it has no manners,â Hua Cheng said, waving the broom off like it was a bothersome puppy. But could a broom have manners? Maybe. When Xie Lian used to fly, sometimes it felt like his own broom, Ruoye, had a will of its own. Even now, he couldnât just leave it to gather dust in some storage room â instead it stood in his small apartment bedroom. Sometimes he went to the park in the evenings to fly, but he had to stay close to the ground, and even elderly witches could easily outfly him if they wanted to.
âI think itâs a wonderful broom,â he said.
For a while, he kept stroking the broom, completely absorbed, and didnât notice the silence at first. Hua Cheng stood beside him, watching with a strange look, as if he wanted to say something but hesitated. When Xie Lian finally glanced at him questioningly, he smiled and suddenly asked:
âGÄge, wanna fly?â
Xie Lianâs eyes went wide. The question caught him off guard, even though it wasnât bad or offensive. StillâŚ
âB-but, S-San Lang,â he stammered, âI⌠IâŚâ
Hua Cheng suddenly stepped closer and lightly touched his hand.
âGÄge, itâs okay. If you donât want to, we donât have to.â
âN-no, thatâs not itâŚâ He really wanted to fly, but he didnât want to ruin the evening by falling off the broom midair. And Hua Cheng probably wouldnât want to crawl along the ground at snail speed. So he said awkwardly: âI donât even have my broom with me.â
Hua Chengâs look grew strange again.
âTo be honest,â he said slowly, âI hoped gÄge might do me the honor of flying with me.â
âW-with you?â Xie Lianâs cheeks burned, as an awkward little laugh escaped him. He quickly swallowed it, clasped his hands in front of him, and sighed softly. He understood right away what Hua Cheng meant, but he suddenly remembered how, back in school, couples would fly together on one broom, giggling and snuggling. The thought made him blush, and he didnât know what to say.
Meanwhile, Hua Cheng put his hands behind his back and apologized:
âSorry, gÄge, I shouldnât have asked like that.âXie Lian mentally scolded himself.
Of course Hua Cheng hadnât meant it that wayâhe probably just wanted to support him, knowing his situation. And Xie Lian had gotten the wrong idea.
âWhat are you apologizing for?â he sighed, then finally said: âActually, itâs not an honor for you, but for me. And Iâd be glad to accept your invitation.â
Rereading Lockwood & Co and my TGCF-rotted brain had a thought: The Skull is essentialy the same as Hua Cheng. Not a Calamity yet, mote like a Wrath, but still with potential to become a Calamity! He's got enough energy to attain a body, and his Source (his ashes) is fine, so he's not gone for real, not so easily. And I can imagine some guy with messy hair sticking out in all directions showing up at 35 Portland Row and Lucy just... She recognises him immediately but refuses to believe it's him. And then of course chaos ensues.
ellievsbear
jbbartram-illu
janainaart
kaledo-art
romaincrisis
areudirty
