in Just- spring

jisoo | 17 | hufflepuff when the world is mud-luscious

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Here Kitty Kitty... | OPEN

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The professor gave pause as the student revealed that he didn’t have much knowledge of the owl species. His eyes blinked slowly and his expression appeared calm though perhaps a little bit disappointed. He drew in a quick breath, held it as though it thought, then exhaled.

“Yes,” he huffed. “You’re right.”

It had been foolish of him to think that such a young student would have such knowledge. Not to mention the fact that Care of Magical Creatures was targeted to magical creatures. Not necessarily all of the different creatures of the muggle world as well. He nodded to himself. The gesture was slow and his shoulders grew slack. Yes, he had been a little overexcited in assuming this boy would have such knowledge.

The mourning over his potential star student was disturbed as the boy pointed over the professor’s shoulder to another flight feather that was just barely visible underneath the bench. His grip on the boy released entirely and reached with a long arm to grab the feather and pulled it into view for the both of them to see. This feather matched the other almost perfectly.

“What an eye!” The professor praised the student as he held the two feathers up for inspection. “See how these feathers are quite small? A barn owl would be twice the size if not moreso. These beautiful specimens belong to a sawhet owl. These creatures are small enough that an adult would fit comfortably in your hand.”

The man held his free hand up and cupped it as though he was holding an imaginary owl in his hand. Though as he made the gesture, he noticed the bloodied scrapes on his hands. He stared at them for a moment with a serious and almost angry and confused frown.

A high-pitched peeping sound echoed throughout the Great Hall. All of the students that remained paused their activities and conversations looked about for the source of the strange noise.  The professor’s eyes widened and the hand that had been under scrutiny flapped as though to get Joshua’s attention.

“That’s a distress call! Hurry! We need to find the owl before Dwaeji runs away with it again or worse!”

For a moment, Joshua almost wanted to say ‘I know I’m right.’ He thought the better of it, however, when the professor’s excitement visibly dimmed and was starkly replaced by what was clear disappointment, sparking the anxiety that he’d done something wrong.

It was an anxiety he was wholly familiar with, and one he wished he could discard entirely. His stomach dropped in conjunction with his chin and eyes as he looked away in brief embarrassment, but once again it seemed that his thoughts were to be interrupted by the distracted, jerky movements of Professor Kim.

Honestly - he’d seen first years with longer attention spans than this.

Based off of the description, Joshua would almost certainly enjoy seeing an owl of this sort, but he was distracted - and rather (rightfully so) alarmed - by the state of the man’s hands. It was- worrisome? No, no, it was nostalgic, reminiscent in the most uncomfortable of ways, and he couldn’t help the hastily muttered Tergeo that escaped his lips. At least it would take care of the blood.

No sooner had the spell been cast than said hand was flapping, almost smacking into his face if not for his quick reflexes in ducking both. Nose wrinkling in irritation, he was about to wash his hands of this horribly awkward encounter before his ears too caught the sound and his eyes widened. Resigned to following the man, hurried footsteps made their way across the hall.

“Dwaeji?”

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profxjintae:

The teenager’s discomfort went entirely unnoticed by the professor. The boy joined him behind the table on the cobblestone floor and confirmed that he did, in fact, see the feather and knew that it came from an owl. The professor’s face lit up even more with a toothy smile.

“Yes! Exactly.” He clapped a large, bloodied hand on the boy’s shoulder. “Do you know which owl? Consider the size and colour of the feather…”

He pushed it closer into the boy’s face so that he may have a closer look. The feather was considerably smaller than the average owl flight feather. The colouration and markings would have been obvious to any falconer or bird enthusiast. The werewolf held the student at an arm’s length and moved into a crouching position on his haunches.

His head turned and his nose drew in more slow breaths in through his nose and out through his mouth. “Do you see any other feathers of this likeness?”

There was nothing immediately visible in front or beside him. The student seemed bright and attentive enough to potentially assist him in finding the owl and whatever letter it possessed. He only hoped that they would find the owl before Dwaeji could do any permanent damage.

“If you are able to identify and help me find the owl, I will grant you house points and an extra bonus mark on the next Care of Magical Creatures quiz you take. Agreed?”

His brows rose, softening his expression in a child-like expression of hopefulness. He seemed to be coming from a place of muted desperation. As he looked at the boy, now that he was closer, his eyes narrowed and his head tilted very slightly to the left. He wasn’t sure if the boy was even in any of his classes.

He shrugged, uncaring. If he wasn’t, he ought to be. Perhaps this excursion and small incentive would encourage him to join the class if he wasn’t already enrolled.

“What is your name, Hufflepuff?”

“I’m not- I don’t have that much knowledge of owl species, professor. It’s little and not very common, but I don’t think I could pinpoint a particular species.” He shrugged. “At least not when the mail owls that come here are from all over the world.”

There was another flash of discomfort as a stained hand settled on his shoulder, large and heavy and all too reminiscent of a firm hand he so desperately wanted to forget. To be pulled closer only heightened said feeling, and Joshua tensed entirely until the moment passed.

“But there are more. A few, at least - down towards there.” Pulling back further, he pointed out the next one he’d seen, barely visible from underneath the bench.

Joshua had always enjoyed Care of Magical Creatures, the fondness stemming from an upbringing around winged equines, and the lure of house points and higher marks were a decent enough incentive for him to deal with the apparent oddness of his professor. That the man didn’t know his name was unsurprising - he rarely made an effort to stand out and likely would not continue to do so.

Even so, his hesitation was clear. He had no knowledge of the purpose of this strange request, but it seemed this fact would be overrun by his cursed need to help.

“Joshua Hong, sir.”

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Here Kitty Kitty... | OPEN

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profxjintae:

The professor suddenly froze in mid step again, this time his shoulders had tensed in such a way that might have suggested that the peculiar professor had been surprised. He eased back half a step to examine the student that had spoken to him.

“Alright?” his voice was low, and it hardly sounded as though he had spoken a word for his mouth had barely moved to make the proper sounds.

His thick brows lowered and his frown deepened which seemed to compress the features on his round face. No. Things were not alright. He hummed low in his chest, and his head turned from left to right, up and down until finally he had spotted a feather. His eyes grew so wide that it hardly looked anatomically correct on his face. He tripped over his own robe in his excitement and allowed himself to fall if only to be closer to the feather before the student in front of him had a chance to accidentally blow it away. He caught himself on his hands and knees with a loud slap! He hadn’t noticed that he had scrapped his hands or had torn a hole in his trousers at the knees.

“You! Boy! Hufflepuff!” He barked. He waved his hand down, not looking at the student but beckoning him down to his level.

“Do you see this?” He asked, as he pushed the feather into the student’s face, though he very nearly lost the feather a couple o f times in the process. The feather was a soft brown colour with cream markings that looked as though they could have been stripes.

“Do you know where this came from?” His voice was a harsh but excited whisper.

The professor’s eyes were still wide and dark. His hair was just as wild and untamed as his present demeanor. His stomach growled again, but the professor didn’t seem to hear it.

“We need to find the source! Immediately! How well do you know your owls?”

“Um-”

If Joshua’s brows could go any higher they’d likely have melded with his hairline at this point. Hogwarts was known for its eccentricities and those eccentricities, apparently, included its professors. He wasn’t quite sure whether to be alarmed or concerned, but settled on both as the man continued.

With a startled jump as Professor Kim hit the floor, he was hasty to comply and listen only to have one of said feathers shoved into his face.

“I- Yes, I see it quite clearly. Too clearly. It’s very pretty.” He paused. “Sir.”

The professor looked almost... Feral. In all honestly, Joshua wasn’t quite sure what to feel of this encounter barring an all too high level of discomfort. Neither etiquette at home nor socialising at school had taught him this manner of interaction - there was little he could do but play along and hope for the best.

“From an owl?”

Was that a question or an answer? Goodness knew.

Keen ears caught the low growl but he didn’t comment out of both politeness and a lack of knowledge as to what to say at all - it certainly didn’t seem as though the professor had noticed anything amiss of his hunger levels just yet, after all.

“Well enough, but- er, I’m not sure what kind of knowledge you’re really hoping for.”

[joshua-hq]

© A MOVE OF GOD ✱ do not edit or crop logo

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Here Kitty Kitty... | OPEN

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A soft and low-toned voice hissed into the mostly-empty Great Hall. “Dwaeji-ah!”

Breakfast had been served long ago, and many of the students were preparing for their first class of the day, which left only a few stragglers behind. Professor Kim Jintae couldn’t be bothered to worry about whether or not students were skipping classes, actually studying or being disruptive. He was trying to find his oversized main coon cat who had made off with a student’s sawheet owl earlier this morning while the poor creature had been trying to deliver a letter. “Daweji-ah!” He hissed again. There was no need to make a fuss. He didn’t need the entire school looking for his cat. He certainly didn’t need the unwanted help of the inexperienced children that would surely manhandle and terrify both his cat and the likely injured owl– he shook his head. The professor’s cat was notorious for injuring young and unsuspecting owls that tried to deliver their messages to the professor. As few and far between they came, they did try to come and either never got delivered because the owls few away from the cat before they could be delivered or they… just… never arrived. He had gone the majority of this school year without such an incident. It had been a problem during his time applying for the position of Professor of Care of Magical Creatures. He found it ironic, and his lips pursed with a pressed smile. His darling Dwaeji would listen to his father. He always did. But the cat also had a habit of escaping out of earshot. That’s what it was. Despite that cats can hear up to 64 kHz, just over 1.6 octaves above the range of the average human and 1 octave above the range of a dog, he was likely just out of ear shot. The professor straightened his back and tried to appear more casual as he walked along the wall of the Great Hall. He could smell the residual scent of fresh bread, eggs, even roasted ham. His mouth salivated and his stomach growled with such volume that he paused in mid stride and shifted his eyes to see if any of the students had heard it. He swallowed hard and pressed on, arms behind his back and thumbs twiddling behind him.

Hogwarts had always been an- well, some called it interesting.

To have incidents happen was a daily occurrence. Arguably speaking, most students were of the strong opinion that to have a quiet day at said esteemed school was only to foster paranoia that someone was planning something far bigger than the common grievance of a small prank or a minor issue - should a quiet day happen, it left plenty on edge. Stressful, but a surprisingly good tribute to the motto of constant vigilance. 

Then again, what else was to be expected of a building housing hundreds of adolescents armed with little sense, the delights of puberty, and the chaos of magic? 

Today, however, had been such a day.

It had started off innocuously enough, and while Joshua had been more than grateful to get an extra hour or two of sleep (being a seventh year and having a better schedule had its perks), he had missed any sort of fuss that might have happened at breakfast. Even now, cross-legged on the bench as sat in what was a remarkably quiet Great Hall, the relative peace was both comforting and unsettling all at once.

And then there were...

Feathers.

It was not uncommon to see them at breakfast, but after most students had filed out the hall was cleaned up and owls tended to go directly towards their addressee - for Joshua to see a stray feather, and another, and then another leading in a haphazard trail towards the corner of the hall when he hadn’t received any mail was odd. His curiosity was piqued.

It was only heightened further as the form of his professor made its way into the hall, seemingly hissing to himself. Interesting. Joshua straightened as the professor passed behind him, only to raise both brows as a low growl was heard.

Well.

“Everything alright, professor?”

[shuapuff-blog]

ailill;

[shuapuff-blog]

slyastor:

That last sentence had him snort –a very loud, visible snort, not that he had intentions to hide how ridiculous the other just sounded–, with the sound of his shoes hitting and echoing on the marble floor of the corridor, his movements always fluid, always like he was made of water or simply too fast in a world that now went too slow according to his sentence. Glancing at the younger, kind of appreciating the insistence, the zealous tone and the determination.

He wished he had some of it.

« Duh, I don’t want to die, so delete whatever option in your mind comprehends my fangs on your or someone else’s neck. I’ll see if I can get rare steak again. » Nose scrunching –despite the idea of a volunteer being great and the desire of tasting blood that just wasn’t the chemical mistake put inside those lollipops, he didn’t want to risk to be suppressed just like vets do with dying animals. Nor he wanted the other to really risk for him. Thus he started to move, light figure turning to the left.

The derision didn’t perturb him. He disliked it, no doubt - to be rude to someone’s face seemed childish and petty - but a mere snort was hardly something to put effort into being upset about. No, no, there were far larger, far worse things to fret over than someone choosing to write him off as silly.

“Bit high and mighty to think my first plan was to volunteer my own neck, don’t you think?” Joshua’s voice was mild, but his raised brow left a very clear impression - the thought was ridiculous. Generous he was, self-sacrificial he was, but entirely stupid he was not. It was unfortunate that said concept hadn’t been made clear from the get-go.

“But steak is doable. Come.”

Residing near the kitchens had its advantages, after all.

[shuapuff-blog]

closed doors - bt

The table was quiet.

There was something particularly chilling about his father’s stone-set gaze that night, and more chilling was that his brother’s eyes were starting to mirror said expression more and more each day. The apple, after all, did not fall far from the tree.

So which tree did Joshua belong to?

A glance to his father’s other side revealed his mother’s downcast features, timid and soft and closer to his own than any of his family member’s - including her - had likely ever wanted. Morally, he preferred himself as he was. Selfishly, he sometimes wished the same as the rest. It was a conundrum.

For all that he’d set foot into the dining hall tonight with low expectations, his heart sank, cold and nauseating, as the dinner continued on in silence. To say that things were tense would be an understatement, and to say that Joshua would come out of this trip home unscathed would be a boldfaced lie. Quietly, he swallowed.

He’d lost his appetite.

[shuapuff-blog]

ailill;

[shuapuff-blog]

slyastor:

He really didn’t like to be this brash –he had his reasons, of course, he had his fears, especially after this whole mess the Ministry was pulling at… the ones like him, only trying to make them appear even more monstrous ( as if he didn’t feel monstrous enough, duh ), when they actually wanted to live a peaceful life just like wizards want with muggles.

It was hard tho, in a place like a school, where it was almost like the negative attitude towards others would grow tenfold and nothing could stop them because ‘teens be teens’. 

Which was annoying.

Thus Astor’s elegant figure would move from his place just a little bit, shifting to let his feet dangle a bit from the border of the window, eyes moving from the floor to the Hufflepuff –his eyes so blue, so vibrating, and yet not really showing up what the vampire beauty was feeling. Nah, that was classified information.

« You’re already kind of peculiar –I mean, haven’t you heard? You shouldn’t talk with people like me. » Small pause, one brow slightly knitting up. « Well, that food’s not what sates me, technically. » And the shitty lollipop ended up being tucked back between his lips, only causing him to look even more cringed. It tasted disgusting and chemical, hell if he hated it. « But sure, okay. »

“I shouldn’t?” Joshua snorted. “News to me. Rest assured I’m very qualified in deciding whether or not I’ll talk to someone. Peculiarity has nothing to do with it.”

To have succeeded in convincing the other was a small victory at best, but any progress was better than none and he knew better than anyone that it was the little things that accumulated. It was an idealistic thought, yes, but he was firmly of the belief that effort and tenacity tended to pay off - and pay off in spades.

For that, patience was undoubtedly not too large a requirement.

“Hm. We’ll figure something out.” The answer was noncommittal, but Joshua was already on his way out.

[twoghostsch]

[shuapuff-blog]

ailill;

[shuapuff-blog]

slyastor:

« Does it matter? »

The vitriol in his voice was clear and sharp –an annoyance remaining constant and only causing pangs to his dead heart to echo and turn his face in a reservoir of horrendous expressions ranging from frustration to disgust. His body stiffened visibly and at that point, hiding his distaste for the poor choice of words coming from the Puff was completely useless.

It didn’t matter –for the simple reason that telling everybody what happened to him wasn’t going to make him return human and alive, just like he used to years ago. It didn’t matter because complaining didn’t delete vampirism or the touch of death on his skin, and that wasn’t rocket science.

Dead people cannot return from Hell’s depths, no matter how –it is known, it is law.

« There’s nothing to explain so. » Small click of his tongue, mild red specks tainting the bright azure. « Anything else to ask –unless that was the only reason you’ve come here for. In that case, you wasted plenty of time for a series of answers you’re not going to get. »

“I would say so.”

The temptation to scowl right back was difficult to quell, but he did so anyway - he wasn’t looking for a fight and starting one would only make matters worse. Pushing wasn’t his goal. Making the other uncomfortable wasn’t his goal. Incurring spite wasn’t his goal.

But it seemed that it was happening anyway.

Joshua could not deny his frustration. For all he thought himself patient, he was human, and his current folly of concern was hardly a fault in the first place. Confrontation had never been his forte - he was a listener, but taking things head on held no appeal - and yet, it seemed that everyone he showed said concern to deemed it an attack of sorts. It was tiring at best and exhausting at worst, and he momentarily wished he didn’t care at all. It would likely leave the whole lot of them (and himself) happier.

“But if you don’t want to talk, don’t.” A light shrug. “At least come eat.”

[shuapuff-blog]

ailill;

[slyastor-deactivated20170604]

Secretive abode wasn’t not that secretive anymore once another figure that wasn’t a ghost or a portrait found the perch of large window where he was sitting with a few scrolls at hand and a soft hum from his pale lips –blood lollipop in them still giving him one more reason to occasionally squint as those things tasted like chemicals and shit and yet he was still forced to chug them just because they were shoved in his pockets by the Ministry guys he was forced to meet.

( because supposing he couldn’t control himself was always the easier way, duh. )

He barely gave a glance to the figure of the Hufflepuff student –the one who still insisted into looking after him like some sort of mother hen when of course Astor’s intentions were more on the isolationist side of things–, lifting himself from the consoling scent of fresh ink on paper, his expression barely changing as his shoulder moved in a small shrug. The lollipop left his mouth with a small ‘pop!’ that still echoed annoyingly in the room –annoyance visible by the way his left eye would lightly twitch, but only if’ looking really close.

« It happens. Had my reasons. »

[shuapuff-blog]

So Astor’s annoyance was clear.

That was fine - Joshua had dealt with far worse reactions. It tended to happen, after all, when one spent as much time with those of other houses as he did his own, and it especially happened when he happened to intrude upon personal bubbles or private time. But what could he do when private time for those he worried about seemed to be all the time? He wouldn’t stay long (guilt, long nurtured in his upbringing, would show its ugly face), but he could at least remind the other that he was still there and he still cared.

Goodness knew it was something he’d appreciate.

“Oh? What would those reasons be?”

Sharp eyes watched Astor carefully. Joshua kept his arms where they were, briefly glancing out the window as the sun started to settle in for the night. Soon, the torches would be lit and footsteps would sound in the halls as students made their way for dinner, and he was determined to have their footsteps amongst the throng as well.

[shuapuff-blog]

ailill;

[ @slyastor ]

“So this is where you go.”

His voice was soft, lilted with both curiosity and concern, and he was sure Astor would be able to discern the underlying question. Thin legs folded easily to sit down so Joshua could join him, even as the underlying chill of the room seeped into his core. He rubbed his arms - this winter would be a cold one. Silence carried for a moment as he pursed his lips, thinking of what he should say.

It seemed he had a knack for collecting friends that liked to vanish and come back different people, and it worried him - they worried him. Had it been an ideal world, they’d be forthcoming with information, easy and willing to spill secrets so he could put his worry to use and do something but-

It wasn’t an ideal world, and his patience would have to suffice as such.

“Been gone a while.”

[shuapuff-blog]

gait;

[dhnjae]

Zico continued his scowling; features animated, as always. If there was anything he could change about himself…well, such wording conjures an exceptionally long list of options and if we’re being honest this trait, in particular, wouldn’t make the top twenty. One of the things he would change about himself were his peskily revealing features. Feline in appearance, both as human and Animagus, Zico’s feelings were usually plastered onto his face.

He was the type who said one thing and then did another, but it was nearly always apparent, for those who cared enough to look, what the stubborn boy was truthfully thinking or feeling in any given situation. Annoying as it was for Zicovian, it was a handy tool for those who chose to or were forced to deal with him.

Zico glanced at Joshua again, envious of his calm. There seemed to be a barrier around him that kept him from experiencing or feeling anything too strongly, a barrier most people probably possessed but a barrier nonetheless, that Zico coveted. His replies always seemed reluctant, half-hearted or glib and Zico felt the distance between them the more time they spent together now. Joshua was not by any means being cruel or cold to him, but for Zico, who ran hot, Joshua’s lukewarm felt like a tundra.

“Of course I’m not,” Zico grumbled hastily, half convinced Joshua’s question about being squeamish was actually a challenge, even if it was anything but. He rolled his shoulders back and cocked his head to the side as he took a few steps back to grab another unfortunate rodent from where it hung on a post behind them. Sticky pelt in hand, Zico’s eyes narrowed and his mouth pressed into a firm line, well, as much of a line as his overly plump lips could manage.

He definitely wasn’t so much worried about the animal in hand as he was about the animal at hand. He couldn’t guarantee results in any situation that depended on him not having a bad attitude. He extended the dead animal towards the wild animal and unintentionally glared at her while he waited to see whether his hand would be chomped off or not. A few sniffs at him and it and the hippogriff tugged the rodent out of his grasp, apparently more than happy to accept treats while the idiot boy in front of her battled his own demons.

“Heh!” Zico snorted, eyebrows rising and a cocky expression settling smugly over his face as if he’d just won some sort of competition. “Guess we’re good to go!”

[shuapuff-blog]

Joshua would forever thank any and all deities that their hippogriff was a patient one, because even what was apparently the kindest face Zico could muster would likely have set off any other. Sometimes he did appreciate the sheer range of expressions the boy possessed - even when they’d been children it had been easy to see the other’s upset - while at others it had the potential to be very inconvenient.

Such as now.

But he himself had never quite been so expressive, he thought. It wasn’t that he couldn’t - goodness, no, he could smile and talk and socialise all day if need be - but his face was never guaranteed to reflect the reality of turmoil that churned within. Perhaps it was a blessing. Perhaps it was a curse. Either way, it was what it was - and it was probably for the best.

For a moment, he felt a flash of guilt. They’d been close. They’d been friends - proper ones, ones that had known each other well enough to have felt the absence later on - and yet here he was, treating Zico the way he treated all his acquaintances: with distant responses and polite small talk.

But what could he do otherwise?

Things weren’t the same, after all. They’d grown and changed and a distance had wedged itself between them, only to spread until they’d been left all but strangers. Joshua cared still (how could he not?) but he was just as sure that there was little he’d be able to do to get through to his childhood friend, not unless Zico let him.

Which he no doubt wouldn’t. Still, the smile on his face as Zico smirked was fond, even if he covered it up with an amused snort. “Wonderful. Good to go for fitting the harness too or are we calling it the end to a rather short day?” Purposefully, he glanced at his watch.

[shuapuff-blog]

forward

[crxrose-blog]

   His arms felt strained from the stacks of books he was carrying, temples pounding from lack of liquid intake and Delwyn wasn’t even halfway through his workload for the day. While the summer break had been a true joy and the healer in training had more than enough time to study and research at his own leisure, once school had started, all of the pleasantries were exchanged with pure stress.

     It was only a few weeks into the new school year, and Delwyn was already done. Perhaps it was time to reconsider his choice of workplaces.

     A soft huff left his downturned lips, just as he turned the corner to the infirmary entrance, and there, Delwyn haltered. Right in front of the door stood a boy, whose body was all too clearly betraying the internal struggle he seemed to be experiencing. An inner turmoil and hesitation visible on his face.

     Delwyn felt the pounding of his temples grow stronger.

     “Do you need help?” The young healer mumbled, softly. “You’re not the only student that gets nervous when entering the infirmary, but you’ll feel better after getting treated.” Bad mood and headache or not, his job was to help.

[shuapuff-blog]

He froze, shoulders high and tense.

Logically speaking, there was no valid reason for the guilt that sparked in his stomach at being called out - Joshua had done nothing wrong and he knew it - but as it stood he rather felt like a child who’d been caught with his hand in the cookie jar. It wasn’t a feeling he could particularly claim to like.

So he sought to clear his name - should it need to be done - and shook his head. “No, I’m fine, I just- There was something I was thinking about. Stopped in the doorway is all. I’m good though.” And it was true, even if the words were a bit hasty. The (those looked heavy) stack of books caught his eye.

“Um- I can help with those. Then I’ll be on my way. Yeah?”

This was awkward at best. The healer - even if his words were nice - certainly didn’t appear pleased, and Joshua had never been one to stick around where he wasn’t wanted. Career advice and thoughts on his future (shaky as they were) could wait if he’d be better off asking someone with the patience for it.

[pledis17]

© Just Josh Jisoo || do not edit/crop photo. [☆]

[shuapuff-blog]

forward

[ @healerdelwyn ]

Joshua hesitated.

Logically speaking, there was no reason to pause here at the infirmary’s doors. He was a seventh year, after all - if he seemed reasonably confident in a career choice then it would strike no one as odd that he chose to speak to someone involved along that line. Perhaps he wasn’t quite the most daring of people, but he usually held enough gumption to at least get things done.

It seemed said gumption had deserted him.

Joshua knew that the longer he loitered, the more awkward he’d seem, but something - a voice that sounded distinctly like the chilled tones of his father came to mind - had him halting in his path. Maybe- 

Perhaps this was best done another day.

He turned on his heel, ready to leave.

[smxsiu-blog]

❮ bt || childish delight. || joshua & hyungwon ❯

[smxsiu-blog]

hyungwon’s chest seemed to swell; he could feel the expansion of his ribs and his lungs and, most of all, his heart, yet nothing seemed to move and he was still as small as before and curled up in the darkness of his wardrobe. but joshua seemed to look at him for direction and believed his easy and thoughtless words, accepted them as ultimate truths, and hyungwon felt proud.

as lonely as the boy was, he often imagined being surrounded by people that hung off his every word, being the centre of attention and watch the admiration dance across his peers’ faces. of course, such is a skill he had yet to adopt since the seemingly so bubbly and lively boy usually reverted back into his shy shell of big eyes and fidgety limbs that clung tight to other’s robes.

there was a vast difference between who hyungwon wished he could be and who he really was, but as soon as joshua smiled at him and looked at him with pure wonder in his eyes, the older boy felt like he was almost there. in a way, joshua reminded him of the baby ducklings he saw in the pond behind their house; tiny and lost and so, so soft looking. hyungwon would watch with utter fascination and a tiny grin as the little, fluffy bundles would follow their mother in a disciplined line. to him, his relationship with joshua was just the same.

so he made sure he could guide him properly, with fingers tightly clutching the other boy’s small ones and eyes firmly reflecting doubtless hope and stubborn resolution.

❮ joshua, what do you wanna be when you grow up? ❯ needless to say, hyungwon couldn’t exactly voice out his thoughts about dreaming of becoming a prince.

[shuapuff-blog]

Perhaps if Joshua had ever been exposed to as muggle a concept as a superhero - a singlehanded wonder with the ability to help and to help and to help and to give and to keep on doing so without tire - he would have said as much. Perhaps if he’d been introduced to people on career paths other than only those his father approved of - with aurors and teachers and do-gooders of all sorts - he would have said as much. Perhaps if he’d been shown the awe and excitement of more unique worlds - the thrill of entertaining or the adrenaline of Quidditch - he would have said as much.

He didn’t say as much.

Instead, a young mind wandered down paths far more familiar to him (the familiarity is unwelcome, entirely unwelcome, and years down the line Joshua would will it away if he could) of a job that couldn’t and wouldn’t hurt anyone.

Healing.

Even as he’d grown up surrounded by magic and its intricacies and curiosities, there was still something amazing about its ability to renew - to take away pain and to make better. He envied that ability.

It was likely this moment, shut in a tiny closet and grasping his friend’s hand, both too young to comprehend the world they’d been born into and raised in, that the idea was planted and took firm root within the recesses of his thoughts, paving the beginnings of a blueprint for future decisions.

“Wanna fix things.” He hummed thoughtfully.

“Fix people.”