malediction

Do Kyungsoo | 6th Year | Slytherin “For the likes of you, the path to happiness is one mean son of a bitch of a path.”

[slysoo]

《 first night's departure 》

You are made of flesh and bones, sewn together at odd angles and hastily made stitches — perhaps that's why cruelty is your first instinct. A heart cooled, lower in degrees than your fellow peers. It has to be the case.

Green illumination provided by the lights above your bed cast eerie shadows. You're used to it and wonder with distance and time would you come to miss this? Perhaps. But as of now, you only wish to leave.

Half packed suitcase lies open at your feet. A swish of the wand and everything folds upon itself and stacks nicely.

You didn't have much to begin with.

The letters have been left and sent. The present wrapped and placed in the vicinity of the receiver. Your deeds are done.

One final glance before you feel the leather of the handle. For your own purpose that you've gone to somewhere closer to home, more beneficial for the future you imagine yourself to live in. It has nothing to do with reminders nor is it a last attempt to be memorable (perhaps a tiny fraction is but he would never admit it).

It's been a haven, your moratorium, a sanctuary. But one cannot remain there forever. A few months ago you were confused — lost even. Still am but less so as if someone has left you a compass and you stumbled across it. The glass has fractured but the magnetism still works and you can make out the direction in which it points towards. For once hesitation is abandoned and you make a choice of your own accord.

The wind is brisk as it takes you. You embrace it for all you're worth.

[slymyun]

arcane || joonmyun & kyungsoo

[slymyun]

Their gazes are held for a fraction of a second before he’s already tempted to look away, but Joonmyun denies himself the urge to - as always. However pleasant their last encounter may have been, within the short weeks apart his own life has changed irrevocably. Though he himself remains the same… mostly. He’s pleased to realize what the other says first is not about Joonmyun, or himself, or anything beyond the (in)visible creature between them. But how to answer such a question? Words never do beauty justice. Either the plain are made to be extraordinary, or the exquisite unable to be penned in words that present a different meaning to each individual.

"I’m sure that the opinion varies. To some it is but a skeletal vessel," Joonmyun answers, stepping past the thestral that gives a quiet snort of what sounds like disapproval. Or perhaps that’s just his imagination at work, since it was the horse’s role, after all. His attention shifts to what must be a burning curiosity on the other’s part and not for the first time, he wonders whether to choose his own answers and divulge information, or merely to gloss over a reciprocation of his question. Old habits die hard and he chooses the latter. "To others, an impossible depiction of beauty."

He moves closer as he speaks, until they’re eye to eye. There’s a difference in Kyungsoo’s posture that he’s unsure what to attribute to, and a quick glance down allows a brief look at palms rougher than he expects. Manual work? Joonmyun doesn’t vocalize the guess, but allows his gaze to drift upwards again, offering a faint smile that doesn’t reach his eyes. Somehow he feels more weighed down by secrets than ever before, and under their weight, feels all desire for small talk and probing questions seep out of his will.

"If you prefer a more dramatic entrance, we might wait for a while longer. If not…" At the pause in his words, he approaches the carriage and hears the creak of hinges before the door swings open, sensing their presence. "I believe the Slytherin table awaits." Courtesy demands that he wait for Kyungsoo first, but knowing that he had left the other with an option for refusal and taking his seventh year seniority in stride, he occupies the seat of his choosing. He leans back against the wall of the carriage, brushes away still unfamiliar blond strands away from his eyes, and raises a brow at the other. Are you coming along?

[slysoo]

He believes in the latter, always have he supposes. Naivety doesn't go away overnight, engrained in one's soul and brought to light in simple circumstances. He prefers to keep his faith in the unknown, in his imaginations. There is always beauty in death and part of him toys with the idea of hastening it in order to behold the thestral with how own eyes. But he plans to live a long life and surely somewhere along the way he'll be able to witness such a creature.

Skin and skeletal frames have been the depiction in ink on yellowed pages — an embodiment of death. Beauty held at the seams. Kin to the way he presses flowers to their graves for preservation or the falling of flowers. Impermanence a beauty to behold as Cherry blossoms grace the earth at five centimeters per second. Flakes of snow operate by the same idea: gone when the sun warms the earth enough. Permanence a bore.

"What is it to you?"

He doubts they operate with the same framework of the mind but curiosity is an odd odd thing and refuses to be quelled. Can't help it he supposes. Catches the faint smile and doesn't bother to mirror it. There's no need to treat the other like the rest — targets for manipulation, tools for the unforeseeable future.

And it is that future that leaves Kyungsoo where he stands as the other seemingly invites him for the last leg of the journey back to the castle. Debates internally for a moment or two. What if he refused? The younger student could linger, allow the last traces of vacation to last a bit longer as he savors the memories once more. But all dreams must come to an end, even he knows this to be true.

It is with reluctance and a heavy heart that he follows the elder's footsteps and climbs into the carriage. Kyungsoo chooses to seat himself across from the other, would have chose defiance a few months prior but rebellion doesn't get one too far in life. Again, his choice has him looking at anywhere but his companion (of sorts), to the scenes outside rather than the unnatural color of the other's hair. Scrutinization and noting the subtle differences wouldn't do much but raise even more questions. Each entitled to their own secrets. The younger boy hides his in shame and desires that ought to be removed from the roots.

[v-dyo]

[dr-soohyuk-blog]

⎾ pure fascination ・ 수혁 ・ 경수 ⏌

[dr-soohyuk-blog]

Comfort foods, it was clearly a little habit he picked up in his student days. Durmstrang had a strict diet for their boys, so everyone had a little stash of sorted snacks for the weekends. He knew this boy too well to know that he’d never pass up the dark chocolate he usually nibbles on, it was a custom. 

He broke off a piece for himself and put it in between his teeth, then he broke off another and handed it over to Kyungsoo — nodding for him to take it. He murmured something that wasn’t near any language, just a small innocent token of Soohyuk’s true personality that somehow had the ability to shine through around the student. He listened to the question and brought the pack of chocolate with him to the bed. Returning to the position he was subconsciously in, Soohyuk hummed slightly in thought.

"I had a sleepwalker, last night, who fell down the stairs. Luckily, they didn’t move. So, he only suffered a fractured wrist and a rolled ankle." He bit of another bit of his chocolate, his senses becoming stimulated by the dark taste. "But because he was a sleep walker, I had to watch him all night until a nurse came in for her early shift. I think it was about five in the morning, and I wasn’t sleeping well in the first place."

He shrugged, Kyungsoo knew this well. Soohyuk’s inability to sleep well, it was a curse under some circumstances but clearly it came in handy in other cases. Then came the question of care, as a man who would be called a monster in the muggle world, he lacks that ability to care. Doesn’t he? Though some kind of protective shield appears at the sight of Kyungsoo, a type only a father or an older brother figure would presume to have. 

Soohyuk never spoke this much in the first place, it was always at the same expense that he’d end up releasing a kind of energy to remain as his stoic pretense. He inwardly hoped with grace that he wouldn’t have to face another emergency tonight because he may actually be able to sleep naturally tonight, no sedatives or narcotics to assist. 

[slysoo]

Sweet tooth was used to describe other individuals as Kyungsoo stuck to the strict regime of three meals a day and cut down on snacks. Not for any dietary reasons but because he was raised that way and it stuck. Sweets were left for rewards and secrets shared between fingertips at night or in the train when there was no one to govern him. Not often and quite picky with the amount of sugar in desserts. But he couldn't refuse this: bitterness of dark chocolate balancing out the sickening sweetness. He takes it gratefully from the other's fingers and allows it to melt away in his mouth, relishing in the taste of cocoa.

A bit sweeter and it would he magical frogs shared in compartments with a heart racing at what card would be drawn. A bit hotter, scalding to the tongue, it would be liquid warmth that accompanies the brilliant flames of winter. Good memories and his lips curl as he savors the piece. Does nothing more than observe, hiding his amusement in the excuse of enjoying the treat at the other's hums. Must be truly tired to return to where he was taking a nap. Kyungsoo wonders to himself whether or not he should fend off other students with his limited amount of knowledge in this field.

Toys with the idea for a while before he's distracted by the answer to the question supplied. Audible sigh slips from his lips as he recalls Soohyuk's sleeping habits with a hint of exasperation towards sleepwalkers. Pitiful creatures to be honest. The incomplete shut off of the brain stem causing dreams to be translated into reality — not only a danger to themselves but to others as well. Clearly, in this case. Tempted is he to press his palm against the other's forehead except he has no powers to help with a good rest. As if the simple gesture could induce sleep (it did in his mind. The healer's gentle hand coaxing him back into happier dreams and the delusions of his mother doing the same as a child.)

And as awful as the thought is, concern for someone he cares for comes before anything else. Somehow genuine in the web he has spun, held together by a plethora of feigned relations with a few strands forged in the depths of his heart, the matron held one of those. "I hope no one bothers you later," allowing his chin to rest in the palm of his hand as he sat down. "Sorry," mumbles underneath his breath as guilt seeps back in for disrupting momentary peace the other had.

[slymyun]

arcane || joonmyun & kyungsoo

The Hogwarts Express has never been a particularly exciting place, but this fact holds especially true today. The doorways and halls feel too narrow; the compartment door is too brittle under his palm, the seats are more cramped. He’s greeted a chorus of hello's and how you’ve been's from classmates, and most immediately their attention is drawn to his new appearance, which most are tactful enough to hold off on remarking until after they've inquired about him going missing for the last month of summer. Joonmyun shrugs and offers an impassive smile. Nothing out of the ordinary, he says. Visited father’s homeland, learned about my roots, that sort of thing.

As the train sets off between rolling hills and green pastures, Joonmyun opts to sit at an angle where he can see through the compartment doors without being seen himself. There is one person in particular that he searches for, though his posture is relaxed and he doesn’t give away just whose appearance he awaits. Disappointingly enough, he doesn’t appear (that, or Joonmyun overlooked him). The hours tick past and except for taking a bite out of a pumpkin pasty, he touches nothing, speaks only when required, and somehow, in the company of three others, manages to change into his uniform. From Hogsmeade it’s only a short carriage ride to the castle, but he lets the others go ahead, approaching cautiously on his own. It is for a reason he doesn’t yet wish to divulge; that he can finally see the creatures pulling the carriage.

Joonmyun had prepared himself for this. He knew what thestrals looked like, knew their skeletons stretched wide under translucent black skin, had examined the blank white eyes in lifelike illustrations. But nothing comes close to the real thing, to its otherworldly magnificence. One by one the carriages depart, until there’s only a few left, and it’s only then that he dares step forward, cautiously holding out a hand to a gaunt snout. The thestral gives a sniff to discern who he is and finds no threat from him, not now, at least. It presses closer to the touch. Joonmyun smiles, satisfied. For a second he forgets that the winged horse is invisible to most others, that what he thinks concealed behind a skeletal cover is only true to himself. His hand drops to his side and he lifts his gaze to scour his vicinity.

And who should he find looking at him, but the very person he’s been quietly seeking all day?

[slysoo]

A heart undecided makes such a mess. Events from the last bits of summer linger in his head as he is forced to face the reality of the world he resides within, the other is merely a fantasy. The red of his transportation back to school pulls up and fingers reach for his belongings as he follows the rest on board, occasional scanning of the masses in hopes to spy one individual in particular — distraction from the temptations at hand.

Whether it is a series of unfortunate events or arisen from his negligence only time can tell. He continues without betraying his intentions in hopes to catch a glimpse to no avail. Instead, slips into a compartment and wears the mask he has crafted from years of practice and heightened this summer with courteous greeting accompanied by shallow chats. Weather, summer, silence. Kyungsoo finds himself staring at the scenery beyond glass panes but a mind too busy to comprehend the images depicted.

Spent the last wakes of summer watching puzzle pieces fall into place. The stain of oil against fingers, the mess and the heat and the smiles, unruly hair swept to the side by gloves marred with hard work. He sits and watches as he slowly recounts the names of each muggle gadget: a wrench, a hoist, a creeper. Observes the way the man's smile mirrors his brother, leaving him feeling out of place and at home. Large hands ruffle his hair and he doesn't mind the dirt and grit embedded in those nails, doesn't mind that he's only known the other for a week, and he doesn't mind that someone is invading his personal space without permission.

Would have stayed if he could. But reminders come as summer fades away. The temporary vacation his brother has ends at the same date and fantasies belong in that realm after all. Nostalgia is such a funny thing. Sentimental already about that brief period of time. And all too soon the journey comes to an end; he's at crossroads but doesn't look twice to walk on the asphalt road. As tempting as the other one is, Kyungsoo will only allow it to remain a dream — relived at ethereal hours.

He lingers, allows the others to board the carriage bound towards Hogwarts first as he files away his emotions and organizes his memories, meticulously like he always has. Stays long enough before he realizes there are only a handful left and that one, particularly daring individual was approaching the invisible steeds. Shock of hair, bleached to the bone (or as close as it can come). Familiar somehow yet he can't quite put a finger on it. Mind more fascinated with the fact that a thestral could be seen by one of the students. Approaches, with caution, as if he could catch a glimpse of the animal through someone else's eyes before he realizes the very individual was the one he had been looking for. Lips curl a fraction because this is a wonderful distraction indeed.

Kyungsoo wonders if he's been sensed because the movement ceases and he finds himself stilled by the other's glimpse. Many questions surface but none as pressing as this: "are they as beautiful as the texts depicts?" How long has he spent hours sketching knobby knees and skeletal frames only to wonder if these illustrations were accurate to begin with.

[xingrens]

don’t forget to come back home, don’t forget to drop your keys loudly, and don’t forget to kiss me goodnight

[seunguitar-blog]

charms 001

[slysoo]

The correct incantation for the banishing charm is Depulso (de-PUHL-so).

The counter charm is the summoning charm: Accio (AK-eee-oh).

The banishing charm, is best defined as the displacement of an object depending on what the wand it aimed at. Or in other words, sends the object away (banishes it).

The proper execution of the charm involves aiming your wand at the object you wish to remove. It is a simple sweeping motion of the hand in compared to the rainbow curve for accio.

As for what purpose this charm was originally created… although the origins aren’t clear, it probably arises from the need to return things to where they were summoned from. The earliest documentation is from the childhood tale of The Wizard and the Hopping Pot in which one can assume it was formulated before that.

The incantation comes from the Latin word depulsio which basically means “driving/pushing away.” Usually done by force as repulsion. At the same time it could be from the English pulse aspect of the word in which the prefix de represents negativity. Hence: “a negative pulse of energy.”

Most recent usage of the banishing charm was in the library in which I returned a volume to its original shelf (retrieved by the summoning charm in the first place).

[dr-soohyuk-blog]

⎾ pure fascination ・ 수혁 ・ 경수 ⏌

[dr-soohyuk-blog]

Unknown to him, his visitor’s touch hadn’t even phased him. No, it was his mind that started to get him to move. He typically dreamed whenever he slept, hence the reason for the pills that nobody knew of. Soohyuk decreased the habit from Durmstrang, the near overdoses that could have cost his life still don’t click for him. The fact that he’s practically shriveled up inside doesn’t spar him, because while many can simply fall asleep he has never had the chance to fall asleep without the hinderance of having to see something.

Black, he wanted to see black. No sounds, no movements, just pitch black to accompany him.

He moved his head towards the warmth, he awoke slightly but refused to open his eyes simply for the fact that he was currently seeing black. But it somehow sparked his curiosity at this very moment, the touch was unfamiliar. Yet when he opened his eyes to small cracks, he peered through to catch a male figure standing by the bedside. 

Kyungsoo, the doctor shut his eyes again under the pressure of stretching his long limbs and then sitting up. “How long was I asleep?” He murmured. Soohyuk rubbed his eyes and stifled a yawn before letting his feet hit the floor. He faced the kid and looked at him directly for the first time in quite a while. Kyungsoo was a different kid. Not someone who would go for attention or for the opposite, it was simply just the fact that this kid was off. Like Soohyuk, but not like him.

It made sense, only when Kyungsoo was there did things start to make a little more sense.

Soohyuk smiled softly at the kid, he always managed to make the doctor feel somewhat nostalgic about the teenage years he couldn’t have. His hand reached over naturally to lay atop of the student’s head and to shuffle through his hair, “You hungry?” He stood and headed into his office, reaching for the top cabinet where he kept his chocolates and his small snacks.

[slysoo]

Enjoys the idleness of observation since a young age, child Kyungsoo can be found outside or near a window when attention wasn't occupied by a book in hand. It hasn't changed since, developing an interest in human beings and their behaviors. Used to idealize these actions as a scientific man involved in case studies, not knowing that at some point the heart and emotions would be involved as well. Fatal is the human heart. Wishes to bring his favorite tale to fruition, The Warlock's Hairy Heart, and sees it in the clean cut between emotions and surrounding individuals. He sees it in cold contours and warm fingertips; prays one day he'll be able to do the same.

Curious is how the other twitches, ever so slightly with eyebrows drawing together and lips pulled down — in slow motion. Kyungsoo can't help but wonder what dreams the other seems to be having. If not for the hand already tracing circles into the other's cheeks, he would press fingertips to the area between the brows, wishing it would be ironed out. He understands, to some extent, how frightening Hypnos' realm may be. Can't help but try to make conjectures of the images playing in the other's mind: a mystery beyond imagination. Would brew the potion of dreamless sleep if he could. But the last time he tried the nightmares were increased by ten-fold. Images flooded his mind, memories twisted beyond recognition, and successive days spent in this ward to regain a self of self.

Startled, is the male when he realizes the matron is awake. Drops his hand quickly from the exploration of facial landscape and to his side. Breathes when he sees the lazy stretching and casual question. "Not long," was the honest reply. Ten to twenty minutes since he had arrived? He doubted the other had much time to doze to begin with. There's guilt at the tips of his fingers and embarrassment in the way he gnaws at the innards of his mouth. Watches the way the other gets up and there is the faint urge to lower his eyes to the ground as a sign of respect. Doesn't because he knows the other relatively well enough to bypass that.

Recoils, like he always does, when the other ruffles his hair. Despite the act of dislike, he appreciates the gesture more than he would ever allow himself to convey. Upon the question of his stomach's status, he shakes his head and responds with a "no," although still hoping Soohyuk would grab a piece of dark chocolate for him anyways. Notes the retreating figure and still slightly guilty about the disturbance to an afternoon nap. Kyungsoo gathers enough courage to allow his tongue to loosen and his curiosity to be sated. "It's not like you to nap during the afternoons," especially someone who was an expert at drawing boundaries between one's private and public life. "What happened last night?"

[kyungsol-deactivated20210104]

[slysoo]

!! notice

sorry to all the newcomers. i usually send welcome messages and whatnot but lately i’ve been swamped with replies although please don’t let it dissuade you if you happen to have ideas for do kyungsoo, park sora, or kang seungyoon. (if by any chance you do, for any of the three, please hit me up on seungyoon) but for now i’m going to close down plotting for soo.

a thousand apologies to those whom i am threading with. at some point i realized i have deviated from what I have had in mind for kyungsoo. some threads may be dropped due to the incompatibility and lack of character development on my part. sincerely sorry if you were waiting on my replies. his muse is currently in a slump so i will be picking and choosing in order to get him back on his feet and slytherin again. thank you for your understanding.

[slysoo]

《 clock strikes twelve 》kyungsoo & seunghyun [bt]

[professorchoi]

It was a hunch. He told himself that, insisted to himself. The knot in his stomach, the increased ache in his always aching heart; watered doubt where doubt had already seeded. Since he’d been cursed, since the dark magic had been quarantined in his right eye; he felt different. It wasn’t just that he’d lost part of his sight. He sometimes felt that he had gained something after the incident. Gained something he didn’t yet understand, and didn’t want to understand.

This unsettling feeling led him to the moonlit path. He was looking for students out past curfew. He’d found several already and scowled when he found another pair; the two locked in an embrace under a tree just off the path. He moved silently. Moonlight gave his white dress shirt a haunting glow, the undone bowtie that rested around his neck and hung down onto his chest fluttered in the night sea breeze. The same wind pulled his hair from where he intended it to rest.

He watched the pair momentarily, hoping to increase the shock and embarrassment by getting as close as possible until they finally noticed him. They were doing something wrong; breaking rules, that is. There was nothing wrong or bad about what the two happened to be doing; when they were doing it was the problem. However as Seunghyun observed for a few more moments he got the distinct impression that only one of them was enjoying what was going on…

He didn’t even get a chance to speak up before the larger of the two noticed him. Seunghyun was taken aback at the desperation the larger exhibited in his attempt to flee. Seunghyun took a step back so he wasn’t actually bowled over, looking over his shoulder as the student fled and left his partner in crime to fend for himself.

Seunghyun looked back to the one who was left behind, a deep frown on his masculine features. The man who’d interrupted Kyungsoo’s assault doesn’t look like a professor, that’s for sure. So why would Kyungsoo believe him to be one? He looked wild and roguish, like some kind of fantasy off the cover of a romance novel; a pirate theme tale that housewives would swoon over between loads of lights and darks. Appearance aside, the man’s sheer presence radiated power. Impressive height, broad shoulders, muscular frame, intimidating expression; he emanated strength and control.

The boy in front of him seemed the complete opposite. Seunghyun surveyed him coldly, taking in each detail with his good eye; that eye lingering on the boy’s swollen, bee-stung lips. He didn’t know many students yet, but this one, he felt compelled to do some checking on. Seunghyun blankly regarded his flushed cheeks, his disheveled clothing, and the polite bow. Did he think he’d just let him go on his way? Seunghyun caught a strong whiff of alcohol as he lurched forward to try to leave and realized the problem was more serious than he’d initially thought.

"Not so fast…" the stranger growled, deep voice a shock upon first hearing it. He takes a step forward, positioning himself in the center of the path making the inebriated student’s escape impossible. Honestly, he wasn’t sure the student would even be able to maneuver around him if he tried to run. Seunghyun suddenly had the mental image of the young boy attempting to escape,  but stumbling into his arms instead and all the venom left him.

He heaved a gruff sigh, shaking his head slightly. “Alcohol,” he growled. “Is for enjoyment in moderation; it’s to be savored. It’s not something to abuse. It’s not something you should waste on trying to forget things or blocks things out…if you continue to use it in such a manner, you’ll only create more things you want to forget,” the stranger lectured softly.

Seunghyun’s gaze was unwavering, inescapable. He lifted a large hand and clasped the student’s shoulder, squeezing it briefly before he released and fingertips trailed up his shoulder and across his jawline, lifting the boy’s hanging head. “Did he hurt you?" he whispered.

[slysoo]

Carriage back into a pumpkin, horses back into mice, glass slippers left back on the dance floor and he's left in tattered rags. Magic only a momentary illusion and love a myth. He's not anywhere near his sober state but the act of interruption has induced such images in his mind. Once upon a time, his friend once compared him to Cinderella and Kyungsoo wonders if it really did end in a happily ever after.

He doesn't reside in a fairy tale, aware of that much. Only naive children and a deteriorating mind can hold onto such fantasies with such convictions. He may be a dreamer but he's not delusional. Reality is ice water and being doused with it is part of the routine.

Keeps his head down as he tries to slip past his savior (of sorts). An embarrassing predicament to be caught in. And yet the deep timbre of the other's voice stills him in his tracks. It warns him of trouble and he wonders if this man is also going to use recent events as leverage against him. Lips quirk at the thought before raising his head to see who it is.

Stranger in his path and he has no idea who he is. Upon inspection the stranger doesn't seem to be the sorts to coerce him but neither does he seemed pleased to see Kyungsoo at such late an hour. A mind compromise cannot make correct deductions but he notices the attire and the pristine phantom white, black is the strip that obscures one eye from view, and wind messes with collar of his shirt and the hair. Two options: a man with too much time on his hands with a hero complex or a professor but he can't seem to recall anyone retiring at the end of last year. Then again what can an intoxicated mind come up with in the first place?

But before Kyungsoo can politely ask this man to step out of his way, the other speaks — words that only ignite flames. I know would scream if he had one glass more. He's always been a man of moderation, prided himself in sophrosyne, understanding the balance between social events and the intake of toxin. He navigated those events with ease and prowess, keeping his head on his shoulders as he documented intoxicated behavior as future blackmail. And yet today he has chosen to forget by drowning himself in sorrow. A laugh slips through his lips, like a crack in broken glass, he shatters within.

For a moment if seemed as if the other understood exactly what Kyungsoo was going through as if he too had his fair share of sorrow. Perhaps he did but Kyungsoo has no spare corners in his heart to house care for this random (albeit handsome) stranger. Only wishes for the comfort of his bed and Hypnos' embrace. Jolts at the hand grasping his shoulder as he stares at the man. What the hell. But it seems to be a squeeze of reassurance and Kyungsoo only wishes he could bark in laughter... If he had any remaining energy or humor to do so. It burns, wildfire contained in the tip of the finger as it makes it's way to his jaw and rests on his chin. He's forced to look into one eye; asymmetrical. Somewhere, where his mind isn't so confused, he wonders about the story behind look, seemingly not out of vanity. Forgets when a question comes out in the form of a whisper.

He twists his head away from the grasp, unable to bear to have a stranger peer into the depths of his soul. "No," and it isn't a lie. How can someone hurt him when he's already broken? How can someone hurt him when he seemingly asked for it? Would yes change anything? He muses but doubts anything would change because of one word. The other has arrived too late. There's no one left to save.

"And now if you'll excuse me..." Trails off as he attempts to walk away, back to where all the students reside. Takes a step, then two, and stumbles along the way.

[dr-soohyuk-blog]

⎾ pure fascination ・ 수혁 ・ 경수 ⏌

1:43 pm, the clock was practically screaming at Soohyuk. His mind clicked at the thought of sleeping at such a time, especially during the school day. Only few assistants were in and all other employees were out, school had just started but he was sure that he’d be the only one able to attend to any patient that come in.

Slumber, he needed the lull of relaxation and replenishment. With haste he took a sticky note and scribbled on it with a pen.

Wake me up if you’re here to see the matron or the healer.

He put it on the face of his door and left it open for an inch or two, the bright pink square in the middle of a dull oak should hopefully catch the attention of anyone in dire need of medical help. Soohyuk was a practical man, pragmatic in all its dimensions but somehow he felt as though he really was in a dreamlike state. He knew very well that the visit last night was the least of his expectations but he wasn’t able to go back to sleep after mending a sleepwalking kid who fell down the stairs. A twisted ankle and a fractured wrist with bumps and bruises to keep in mind.

Soohyuk sighed, he laid down on the medical bed closest to his office as it was clearly visible from the wing entrance, and he fell asleep. It was easy, he met slumber and embraced it warmly as his deep breathing soon became innate and he grew limp to the spell of what seemed to be a torpor.

[slysoo]

18, today would be the eighteenth time he navigated this wing not for the healer but for another individual coincidentally housed in the same part of the castle. Kyungsoo isn't quite sure when he started keeping track (that's a lie. he knows it began on the fourth encounter) yet it somehow became habitual in the long run despite the first encounter a pure accident. Summer days have been too long, drawn out and emotional, he only wishes to see familiarity and tranquility once more.

Stops in his tracks when the familiar oak is adorned by pink monstrosity, not unlike the neon yellow hues his brother has gifted him last year to remind you of the sun! He chooses to ignore the color scheme, understanding it was meant for attention as he quickly skims over the contents. Puzzled, wondering if both were napping or—

He knows the handwriting by heart. Seen it constantly not from personal experience but from shadowing the other as excuse to use this place as means of escape. Interesting how fascination can land one into such unexpected places. He allows himself to enter, reasoning that even a slumbering face can set this undecided heart at ease. As long as he allowed the matron to continue his rest, no harm would be done correct?

And from the entrance he could already spot the slumbering figure and he wonders how many take this as a gesture of dedication. Kyungsoo knows so strongly otherwise and only finds it interesting rather than upsetting. Quiet are the footsteps he attempts to make as he inches closer to the doctor. The ward is void of individuals, rare as it may be, even the healer is no where to be found. Halts just a few steps away from the male and he does nothing spare for observe.

The steady rise and fall of the chest, he wonders what happened the previous day to induce such fatigue. It was only the early afternoon and yet he cannot comment on whether or not this was characteristic. It takes another minute and a dash of courage before he seats himself on a chair close enough to the slumbering male. Inspects the sleeping figure as if he were a test subject or a puzzle Kyungsoo had to crack. He is, in a way.

Peaceful is the face that sleeps the rest of the afternoon away, a guise of normality only found when deep in sleep. Gentle stirring, silent beckoning, and Kyungsoo finds his fingers reaching towards the other individual. The first contact between the tip of his index finger and the cheek burns his skin. He jolts upon contact, as if expecting the skin to be cold. A face like that could only be chipped out of marble — like Galatea. There is perfection in every expanse of skin. Smooth under his fingertips and he drags it down the sharp angle of his jaw, as if anticipating blood to be drawn. Timid as they alight upon the nose, dances their way to the soft pastures of the brow and once again to the smooth expanse of the forehead. Tempted, for a fraction of a second, to ruffle the other's hair like Kyungsoo's is so often by the other male. Abandons the thought as his fingers slide down back to the elegant contours of his cheekbones. Daringly, he presses the palm of his hand to the cheek, cupping the other's face with one hand. Thumb drags gently, in a soothing rhythm across skin. He doesn't allow himself to think just focuses on allowing Soohyuk to rest for the time being.

[stobarimilk]

the sunshine of my heart, soo.

[xslyyifan]

• drops of jupiter ㅡ kris & kyungsoo.

[xslyyifan]

the younger student doesnt meet him eye to eye and yifan doesnt mind. he doesnt know whether it’s because of fear over him being known as that second year that torments the younger slytherin students or because of the fact that he just simply doesnt want to look at him. both sounds bad however way he think of it but he isnt blaming him if its the former. anyoen who looks at yifan can easily mistake that permanent scowl into something and he knows certainly it was enough to drive others away from him.

he isnt really so bad though, just a little closed off in his own world with his own thoughts. people who’ve known him ever since would know that his personality is an endless labyrint, shifting back from being someone who everyone likes to someone you want to delete from your life. nonetheless, yifan finds himself nodding at the answers that slip out of heart shaped mouth hesitantly, finally shooting him a glance warily. “i suppose you’re right.”

he wraps a hand behind his neck and faintly remember the way his mother looks at him everytime he gets back for the holidays. hands that remain by her side, eyes that search each corner of his body, reading without touching, touching without speaking; yifan didn’t have to ask why she looked at him with such a scrutinizing eye because he knows its her way of checking whether there are any bruises, marks that were never there, cuts that he could have gotten. each scar, each mark, each line , it’s as if she had him memorized from head to toe. there’s no i’ve missed you, or i’ve been waiting for so long, but he knows. and instead of staying silent, he finds himself walking over to her side to wrap his arms around her waist. i’ve missed you, mother, he’d tell her just in case she didn’t feel it.

"it’s okay," he assures him because he looks petrified that yifan is calling him weird. "i’m sure you’re not the only one in this castle." and he laughs again, a heartily laugh that he hasn’t been able to do for a while now because of the things that’s been happening around him. he doesnt know where it bubbles out from but there’s a sense of comfort he feels even though he barely knows anything about the other, not minding that it’s their first time talking to each other. 

"are you always cooped up here in this tower?" he looks around again and he wonders why he hated this place in the first place. perhaps it was all because of the load of assignments he had to do, the meaningless nights he spent here just to watch a falling star. he remembers sleepless nights because of the subject and after the term, he swore he’d never go back up here again. "i mean, i guess its nice here and everything but there’s so much more to do." he tries to think of something to talk about because he doesnt feel like leaving yet and he hopes kyungsoo isnt leave yet either. then, his eyes light up with diamonds in them, a broad smile painting in his lips. "ah! quidditch." he turns and flashes him a gummy grin, a sweet beam of friendly banter. "do you play quidditch?"

[slysoo]

funny how two words are enough to calm heart and begin construction on a door. reminds him of it's okay. everything will be alright. reassurances that do nothing but set you at ease. somehow its enough. always has been and perhaps always will be. soft hands ruffling through hair and a grimace on his lips. a string of tutors and then there is his brother when he's on the verge of giving up, not getting the clue that this desperation was caused by him and only him. and yet despite convincing himself that he hated the bastard of the household, a heart unclenched at the slightest gestures and the simple words. 

he's not the only one nor is he offended by the term and listens to the other laugh. clear. bright. reminds him of mornings and blue skies, midnight and twinkling stars. odd comparison but no one can quite control the images that flood the mind. eases his face into a smile that he attempts to hide to no avail.

upon the listening to the questions he worries. he's not a very interesting person (in his own eyes, unlike his brother) to begin with and what if the other loses interest? it's a saddening thought and he's surprised at the speed in which he has developed some sort of attachment - for a friendship. at least in the foreseeable future he hopes. contemplates whether or not he should answer in a way that guarantees a friendship seeing the way the other had smiled upon the word quidditch and kyungsoo can only guess how much it meant to the other boy. fears disappointment but more afraid of the consequences of a lie. where to begin? how to begin?

"no," because he's not always here, cooped up in this space (although it is a wide space when considering the sky itself). only when the aversion to other human beings permeates every cell of his body does he risk coming up here. allergic to all human beings and the sniffling late at night. it's also when he misses home the most, although he would admit it aloud. expanse of sky the same everywhere after all. there is so much more to do than gaze at stars, as if he had the eternal leisure to do so. kyungsoo can usually be found in the library or the courtyard. occasionally in the green house because few are the students who linger beyond class time. therapeutic in a way. but all these seem so boring compared to quidditch.

"and unfortunately i don't play quidditch. wish i could," allows that much because if he could then perhaps his father would look at him for a second longer. perhaps regard him with pride. but hand eye coordination was not inherited from his father. "i like watching it though," except when his brother is playing because it is nothing but a cruel reminder of what he lacks and across how many areas. likes being part of the crowd and the adrenaline that encompasses him... usually at least but has learned to stay away recently. sore subject so he brings up something else before the other loses interest: "do you know that this tower is great for broomstick flying?" glancing at the other, eyes lightened up with a hint of mischief. "quiddtich players used to come here after curfew and practice. an old tradition of sorts." not sure when it died out but that seemed to be the case when his father was here. even had slight turf wars as to which house came here earlier. he too participates in a dead tradition - the act of flying liberating.

[thvms-prk-blog]

{ bt: what are those? / ms & dks.

[thvms-prk-blog]

               There was always a difference between power and authority, especially over the older students of Hogwarts who obviously had enough wit and common sense. It had been long since curfew had passed but that wasn’t something Sen wished to bring upon the table. They were in Maldives for the summer holidays, where would the fun be if he deducted points alongside an essay worth of detention. That or it could be a certain biasness towards the student who belonged to the same house he grew up in.

               His question proved his assumption right and a smile immediately curled into the professor’s face. There wasn’t many times where he had the chance to actually talk to the student, only noting the student’s curiosity even during his younger years in the castle. Though curious wasn’t such a bad thing, Sen thought, not a negative trait at all. Surprised isn’t exactly the first thing he felt when Kyungsoo picked up on the character inked on the back of his neck, impressed though because he was able to read it.

               ”Not exactly for anyone special.” The corners of his lips pull up into a smile, teeth showing and dimples appearing. “It’d be good if I had someone though, must admit.” Not exactly love but perhaps he has found something— someone— that reminded him awfully lot about the feeling. “爱 was my mother’s favorite character. I grew up with only my mum around to care for me so I got it as my first tattoo.” With the memory replaying in the back of his head, he couldn’t help but smile, feeling warm on the inside because of the memory. His mother had been angry that night, red and temperamental, but gave in with one kiss and a hug. Laughing, he teased, “I don’t think I’ve ever loved a woman greater than my mum.”

[slysoo]

Puzzled or perhaps just prejudiced as to reasons behind an eternal mark if not for something special. Someone special. Surely there must be reasons behind the decision making, a step of courage in his mind to be able to commit such an act. Or perhaps it was a momentary decision. But conjectures are just conjectures and the other has more than one story to tell so he listens, intrigued as to the reasons behind each and every stroke and wondering if he could generalize and pick at another mind. 

He's surprised, to say the least when he finds his professor willing to spare the time and share his tale, taking in the smile and the cave of his cheeks. A smile of his own makes its way to his lips as he realizes that age has nothing to do with desires. That no matter at what age, everyone seems to be hankering over the concept of love. He's not that different either... if not for a weary heart. 

Joins in light chuckles of his own and wonders if it would be out of place to comment that he would certainly find someone else to love. But he has no close connection with the other man to do such thing, neither does he have a basis to make such a comment. What does a boy not loved by his own mother understand? Oh he did love her enough but it was of a different quality (he assumed) than what his professor experienced. Envy curls inside his chest and he's too tired to pulverize it entirely so picks the path where he ignores the words and his emotions, unwilling to give.

Information divulged and he takes them in. Carefully documents each word into a file for future reference. "So..." trails off because he doesn't quite understand, "you got it as a reminder? In appreciation of your mother?" because it meant something to him? Questions circulated with such intensity he could almost come down with a migraine. And if this was the reason behind it then he could only wonder what Yifan's intentions were (has no hopes of relevance). "What about leap?" what about all? Wonders if the other has time for his incessant questions as stupid as they were. But he wants to know. Kin to the hunger that accompanies him when he's surrounded by texts and not quite sure where to begin. Are they self-reminders of what qualities to seek and what goals to keep? Or are they just arbitrary?

[kyungsol-deactivated20210104]

[slysoo]

kyungsoo buying chanyeol a plushie

[xslyyifan]

☀ meet me at the equinox — kris & kyungsoo.

[xslyyifan]

nothing’s changed, yifan thinks. he’s analyzing his words when there’s nothing between the lines, nothing but a split second precision that says there’s nothing more to the words i speak. but he knows kyungsoo far better than that, his need for explaining everything in the unwritten rules of inanity. but surely, kyungsoo knows better than for kris to remain in a place where he knows he’s going to get stuck. he doesnt allow it— moreso doesn’t want it. not when he knows for certain that it’ll never work out.

before anything else is said and differed, he finds himself being pulled by the younger male, rummaging from the rain as it begins to pour over the tiny island. both feet shuffle along a vast crowd, looking for temporary shelter from the weather yet to come. a blundering thunder, yifan takes the lead and grabs his arm as the rain begins to fall harder, faster, and heavier.

he doesnt know how far they get, only realizes a split second later that they’re pretty far off, beneath tree trunks and gravels of leaves that allows a tiny slippage of rain drops. chest heaving as he tries to catch his breath, he begins to laugh. sincere, genuine, child-like; all the things he knows he can be when its kyungsoo around.

"i lived my life in a puddle of shit." he frankly tells him, shouts slightly, because the rain is so hard that its hard to communicate. not the slightest perplexed by the words spilling out of his mouth so casually. "you left me and i felt like a no good piece of shit."

a sad smile, he doesnt mean to give it to him, but its there. and he cant help it. but since he might as well let kyungsoo know everything, condemned with nothing but the truth if it was honesty hour right now. “but i meant it. ive been good.” running a hand through his damp hair, he adds, “dont tell me you’ve been too because im the last person in the world who’s expecting you to say that.”

[slysoo]

drip drip goes the clock and they are running against time and the rain itself. hand in hand, down the hill, waiting for someone to break their crown. a clap of thunder has kyungsoo jolting from the shock. quickly overtaken and he allows himself to be dragged along. island small but unfamiliarity permeates every aspect of his soul. he allows himself to follow again.

thoughts to the back of his mind as more pressing matters (ie. finding shelter from the torrents of rain) occupy the foreground. soon finds himself beneath foliage where drops collect and threaten to fall. they do but they never touch him. out of breath. short gasps of oxygen as he attempts to settle back down and breathe again. hands on knees, back bent, gasping for air. there's a laughter and he finds himself joining. events unexpected yet he laughs because this is ridiculous. this entire escapade has been one huge joke from holding of hands to being... lost. at least it seems this way to kyungsoo's eyes.

revelations come in the forms of words. raised volumes for audibility and kyungsoo listens. silent because this is necessary. the exchange of words for a glimpse of thoughts; misunderstandings diminished. catches the smile, as sad as it may be, yet he can no longer contort one to fit his face. it doesn't fall either. stays in limbo as he replies with "that's good." dispassionate. perhaps proud that the other has managed to move past whatever stage kyungsoo finds himself in, knows it is so much healthier, but can't come up with some other way to demonstrate it. feelings to conflicting for coherency anyways.

straightens his back as he fixes his hair so that his bags are no longer plastered to his face. contemplates the best way to approach the last statement and finds it in honesty once more.

"i won't," he promises. even the act of lying takes too much effort. tired of feeding himself lies and trying to believe in them. he's not good. hasn't been because "i'm still hung up on you." pointless words now but he needs to get it out as if leaving it out in the open will help platelets set in and start healing. "i don't want to be though." no one wishes to stay in purgatory for an eternity. to leave this state of being would be nice.

shuts his eyes as fists clench as he tries to tear up the filter set between the brain and the lips. there are some things that have to e said. "i'm sorry," he begins. for everything and for ending this so prematurely. he dares to look at the other again, lips lifting upwards in a somber expression. "i know this won't repair anything" never expected it to, "but just so you know," he takes a deep breath, "i'm sorry." no other word can take into account his remorse with such simplicity.

thoughts flicker back to the talk about feeling like shit and kyungsoo feels as if that is his current state. fleeting as his heart unclenches once more. he never meant to hurt yifan like that. then again he didn't really think things through to begin with. it was about himself and solely about himself. wishes he could supply words of reassurance and how yifan should never be likened to such crudity. tell him that the present can be much better than the past and childhood experiences but has no grounds left which to do so. rights lost when he called it off.

rain escalates, relentless as it comes. so the gate to his thoughts too opens. he needs this. they need this. so avoidance doesn't drag on too long and kyungsoo doesn't lose the other for an eternity and to foolish mistakes. breathe in. breathe out. write 愛 three times on the plan of your hand. swallow. that's how you obtain courage, they say. he follows the process in his mind'a eye.

"it doesn't matter anymore, i suppose," takes a deep breath as he steels himself for what follows. "but I loved you" still do but clings onto the past tense as if he could will it into reality. "so please don't liken yourself to excrement," attempting to lighten the mood.