brumes et pluies

evan (jinyoung) bae. sixth year. proud slytherin.

[slythevan-blog]

— * instant regret ;

[slythevan-blog]

ravbelle:

she’s quiet as she watches him, waiting for his response to her inquiry of whether he was alright or not, concern laced through her features despite not wanting to care about the slytherin. after all, it wasn’t like he had ever done anything to warrant this kindness from her. 

no, that was a bad way to think. everyone deserved kindness even if they didn’t act like they did. her mother’s voice echoed in her brain, and she nodded to herself, thinking that she had done something good today even if no one would know of it besides her and evan. it was okay, she thought, nodding to herself once he had responded to her. 

“okay, that’s good,” belle says softly, smiling slightly before she turns her attention back to her book and she hums softly under her breath, unsure of what else to do. sure, they had shared a sort of moment there but she’s also very certain that it would never happen again, nor was it as appreciated by the slytherin as it should be. (her brain scolds her again and she sighs a bit to herself, knowing that good deeds were not done to be noticed. but that didn’t mean she had to like it. duh.) 

a few more moments tick by before she realizes that it’s much too late for her brother to be coming by anytime soon and had probably chosen, of all days, to take a different route to class. perhaps now was a good enough time to leave and avoid the awkward conversation that was sure to come between the two of them if she were to stay. 

“um ..” belle’s unsure of how to go about this, when she had seen evan in such a weak moment, thinking that if she were to just get up and leave it would probably leave a bad impression. “… would you like me to read some more?”

[ TRIGGER WARNINGS: claustrophobia, implied panic attack ]

her gentleness in dealing with him is something that surprises him, his expression mildly befuddled and unsure, glancing up at her face briefly, his eyebrows furrowing together slightly. he isn’t sure how to feel about this -- a muggleborn, one he’d stepped and trod all over since day one, being this kind, helping him, everything that he doesn’t believe muggleborns are even capable of doing. 

“i...” he starts, half wanting to hear more for the sake of hearing her voice, the feeling of peace that steals over him, and at the same time, he wants her to go, because he can’t deal with the incongruity of someone who is supposed to be nothing more than dust to him, helping him in such a big way, with such kindness in her eyes. the inconsistencies are almost too much for him, and vulnerable, he wants to believe in them. the panic is barely held at bay by her voice, and he doesn’t know what to think. 

he doesn’t reply, his internal war with himself drowning out other thoughts. he doesn’t want to sit here in the dark, with only the awkward silence between them to leave room for thoughts. the other alternative is to hear her voice, reading through sonnets, and let the darkness recede away from him. 

“if... we have to... stay here.” he finally gets out, his voice tense. “since... we’re stuck.” and it’s a weird thing for him, to include her in something to do with him, to refer to her and him together as a joined entity. wonder of all wonders. new things happen every day, he supposes, and a faintly hysterical laugh bursts from his lips, too tired to hold back the unsightly reactions he shouldn’t be releasing.

[slythtaehyung-blog]

red light –*

[slythevan-blog]

slythtaehyung:

“man fuck society and high standings, we both know that’s just superficial bullshit, evan. as if that really means anything in the long run in way of happiness,” taehyung snaps, glowering before he can catch himself. “i guess thats the only stuff you can value, though, since all you are is superficial. but what would i know? after all i’m just some stupid halfblood, right?”

it takes him a moment, though, when evan kicks his insults up a notch. for a second, it stings- burns, even- until he reminds himself that it’s not necessarily untrue. taehyung clenches his jaw and watches for a heartbeat more until he can’t take it, pushing closer to fist one hand into evan’s irritatingly pristine shirt. 

“what the fuck would you know about me and what i’m good for, huh? fuck you, dude, you don’t get to say shit about that- not when you never gave me the chance to be absolutely anything in your eyes before you passed judgement on shit out of my fucking control.” taehyung hisses, practically nose to nose with the other slytherin with how close he’s crowded. he’s probably causing something of a scene, but really, he doesn’t care. “let me get this straight- aside from my blood, it’s just because i suck dick that i’m somehow worth less than you?” 

taehyung walks them backwards forcefully, until he hears evan’s back hit the wall with a thud. 

“or is it just that it’s not yours? you having some kind of belated sexuality crisis, huh pretty boy? you want me to get on my knees for you?“ he’s tugging at the other boy’s shirt with every few words that leave his lips, fighting a losing battle (he knows), but he can’t quite make himself shut up now. 

“you’re so goddamned pathetic, you know that? at least my insults had some basis to them.”

he knows it’s a weak retort, knows he’s standing on his last legs before he just fucking swings, but being insulted this way by someone who sees him as some lesser has his blood boiling. taehyung shouldn’t let his temper get the best of him- but unless someone stops him or evan pulls a miracle out of his ass, well, he can’t make any promises for the condition the two of them leave in. 

“if it doesn’t mean anything to you, then why are you getting so defensive?” he retorts smoothly, the corner of his mouth curling up derisively in dark amusement. “clearly, you know your place, and you’re not happy with it. you’re a stupid halfblood and you hate it, don’t you?” his voice, in contrast to taehyung’s getting angrier, grows calmer, more solid as he finds himself in his element, a sneer painted onto his face. 

a hand fisting into his shirt startles him, even if he’s determined not to show it, his eyes fixing coldly on the other’s forehead, not bothering to meet his eyes. taehyung’s grip has surprising strength in it, and the rational part of his mind is telling him that he should really shut up and get himself out of there before he gets into a physical altercation that he certainly won’t be able to back up. but the proud part of his heart is telling him that there’s no way any kind of halfblood should be able to do anything to him. 

for merlin’s sake. 

scoffing, he rolls his eyes. “i couldn’t care less whose dick you suck, or the fact that you do, if you were actually worth something outside of that. but that seems like it’s your only vaguely redeeming quality, doesn’t it? it’s all anyone talks about when the name ‘kim taehyung’ is mentioned.” his voice are cutting, cool and calm. “i don’t want your filthy mouth anywhere near me. there are dozens of cleaner people, if i wanted to ‘experiment’.” he sneers at the other, though his voice has strategically remained low, so to everyone around them, it might look like taehyung is the one having a violent outburst, and evan -- a proper prefect. appearances are everything, after all. 

“my insults don’t have basis?” he scoffs, “ask anyone around the school. i assure you, my words come solely from a place of truth regarding your... activities.” 

[slythevan-blog]

— * over the edge ;

[slythevan-blog]

slyjae:

“a lot more than my idiotic parents.” those words came out unwarranted and without filter, taking himself by surprise even though he said it. evan had been around long enough to know of his unique disdain. pathetic excuse of human beings, jaebum would tell him on numerous occasions.

though at some points, he’d find the two of them at odds. beliefs of evan’s more often than not, corroborated with his parents. but he couldn’t blame him, knowing how strong lineage can take hold, especially in a developing mind.

he thought of jennie and how much feeling he harbored for her, despite her status. fire ruptures in his eyes suddenly. “i know things and feel things just the same as you. but don’t take this too far. don’t submit to radical beliefs that aren’t your own. we know better.” 

jaebum’s unexpected retort sends him reeling for a moment and his eyes narrow, his chest clenching and he hates the feeling of guilt that races through him when jaebum scolds him. it burns away the anger that had sat deeply in his stomach, leaving behind shameful remnants, and he glances away from the older slytherin, eyes and throat burning with unspoken words and feelings. 

“i can’t.” he says abruptly in response to the other’s chastising, and it’s one of the few times he ever acknowledges that what he does is far too radical, far too wrong for the accepting atmosphere that hogwarts generally harbors. 

“i can’t.” he repeats, his eyes darkening and he presses his lips together, glancing away stubbornly from the older slytherin he’s known since childhood. he won’t say anything else, he can’t say anything else, but he knows that jaebum only means well, suppressing the anger that automatically wants to rise up in his throat, to rebut and swat away and criticisms. “they’re muggles,” he says stubbornly, but his eyes won’t meet the other’s, and there’s guilt deep inside. fuck. he doesn’t need this right now.

[dahyunrk-blog]

ice cold butt

[slythevan-blog]

gryfsilas:

silas sighs exaggeratedly, teasing. “what if there’s someone your magical fishnet missed out?” he’s used to evan by now, after so many years of his iciness.

“give people a chance, you cold snake,” not that silas meant it in a bad way, evan was a good person inside, he knows, but it was fun to poke fun at him.

he rolls his eyes at that, sighing heavily in response and he replies, “unlikely. it’s served me well so far, and i doubt that’ll be changing any time soon.” he retorts with a soft grumble, though he has to admit that perhaps there are some places too tight in his ‘magical fishnet’, so to say. “what, and be a foolish lion like you?” he replies with an arched eyebrow, although there’s a surprisingly low amount of scoffing in his voice.

[slythtaehyung-blog]

red light –*

[slythevan-blog]

slythtaehyung:

taehyung laughs at the forced smile, at the retort evan manages, even though they both know it’s weak. he ponders, for a moment, whether it’s worth his time and effort to be mean and say something he knows would really sting, or whether he should take it easy and let evan’s anger build slowly. he’s not necessarily aiming to get a black eye tonight, but then again, tae sincerely doubts evan would bother touching taehyung unless absolutely necessary. 

(not to mention the little bitch would probably hurt his hand worse than he’d hurt taehyung if he threw a punch.) 

“damn, so what you’re saying is even the person who’s gonna marry you can’t stand your ass long enough to stick around for one measly ball?” taehyung gives an exaggerated frown, miming a tear drop rolling down his cheek before breaking out into another wide smirk, even around the glass of punch he’d been nursing. “if that’s what you call finding worth in your life, you can keep it, buddy.” 

taehyung takes a moment to finish off the last of the punch before making himself yet another glass- letting evan stew in his own anger, for little more than the sake of his own amusement. he could do this all night. 

“at least i’ve got people who like me for who i am, and not for my blood status because they have to.” he adds on after a moment of watching the other slytherin attempt to restrain himself, to add fuel to the fire. “im curious, though…. what’s it feel like to know you’re so fucking insufferable that even your bloodline, even your stupid prefect title, isn’t enough to earn you any real friends?”

the words coming out of taehyung’s pitiful lips make evan want to sneer and throw up. the words don’t bother him, they don’t, it’s just annoying as all hell to have to listen to some worthless halfblood insult him -- like the poor excuse for a slytherin has any right to even say a word at all. stupid. 

he rolls his eyes at the other slytherin’s comment, his lips pressing together for a moment before he replies with a smooth tone, “at least i’m worth enough in the eyes of society to be engaged to someone of much higher standing than you’d ever hope to be.” he turns away from the other, though the next comment about his blood status makes his spine prickle with anger. 

“do they like you for who you are, or do they like you simply because you suck dick? because it seems like that’s the only thing you really know how to do.” his voice is cold, shoulders stiff, and the alcohol is making him say retorts that perhaps he wouldn’t have in such a public space. “your face betrays your intelligence -- you’re just as stupid as you look. i have friends who have stuck with me through thick and thin -- can you say the same, or are you only good for one night stands?”

[slythevan-blog]

gryffirene:

the girl shuts the door behind her, perhaps too hurriedly to escape her brother’s observant nature. she had no plans for secrecy against him however. pulling out her wand, the seventeen year old casts a quick imperturbable charm on the room before turning to face her brother yet again. her lips part to answer his questioning gaze but is rendered silent upon meeting his eyes.

“you’ve gotten tall,” she says before she can stop herself. briefly, she wonders what it would have been like growing up beside cody kwon. “since when did you start towering over me like this?”

his expression shifts slightly when she casts the imperturbable charm on the room, eyebrows furrowing in confusion. it’s rare that his sister takes this kind of attitude around him and he can’t help but wonder exactly what’s going on today. “i’ve been taller than you for a while, now.” he points out gently, his expression bemused as he reaches out to touch her cheek briefly. 

“what’s going on, nuna? you seem so tense. is something wrong?” he’s so oblivious, no idea of the conflict approaching, and the him of the future will probably wish that he’d never had to deal with this. probably. but the him of right now is simply confused.

[slythtaehyung-blog]

red light –*

[slythevan-blog]

slythtaehyung:

@slythevan

sometimes, when taehyung meets a certain kind of person, the mean streak he does his best to keep covered up rears it’s ugly head. in all honesty, taehyung finds he rather enjoys the adrenaline rush that comes with heated arguments, heated fights, heated touches– and, well, he always has been a bit of a sadist at heart. 

when he spots evan from the dance floor, the decision to seek him out is instantaneous. he might’ve been a bit embarrassed with how quickly he slipped through the crowd, were he not feeling so giddy at the prospect of getting to make evan’s temper flare in such a public place. the opportunity to embarrass him. (he’s never seen evan drunk, though, and with the punch spiked, he’s sure it’ll be even more interesting than usual.) 

once he closes in, taehyung puts in effort to make the way their shoulders knock seem innocent, accidental, even. 

“oh,” he begins, unable to fight the smirk on his face, even if he’d wanted to. he gives the other a quick once over, licks his lips before continuing. “well gosh, so sorry about that evan. i didn’t see you moping there.”

taehyung leans in close, pushing evan’s limits because even though the proximity makes his skin crawl, he’s eager to watch the flash of emotions on the boy’s face. besides, the drinks just so happen to be behind them- convenient as ever. 

“couldn’t get a date, or did pretty boy get ditched so he could pout in a corner, huh?” he lets his voice lilt in a mocking simper, lip pouting out oh so slightly. 

perhaps attending the yule ball hadn’t been such a great idea. not that he’d had a choice, apparently. the yule ball has been mandatory for years, as long as he can remember, and he can’t help but think that it’s an event he’d certainly do better without. it’s not that he’s hated -- far from it, honestly. at least within slytherin. the other houses, however, are a different story.

but he’s got his enemies within slytherin, within his dormitory, even, and taehyung happens to be one of those people. the fucker. the bloody, bloody annoyance of a roommate who seems to do nothing but antagonize him, to get on his nerves, to constantly challenge his ability to restrain from committing murder. 

you’re a prefect, he reminds himself, and it’s even more important in light of that, that he restrain himself. proper conduct, at least where it matters. (treating those in power with the proper respect, those of his blood status with the same, but not those beneath him. fake, empty smiles, maybe, but they’re only worth that in front of the eyes of people who will eventually be able to benefit him.)

his lips press together with a fake smile, barely there, and he glares at the other slytherin with anger flashing in his eyes. bloody hell, the punch had been spiked and he can feel the alcohol rushing in his stomach, his head, everything steaming up inside his thoughts and he thinks he might explode soon. 

restraint. he has to hold himself back.

“unlike you, i have a fiancee,” he points out coldly. “i don’t have to sleep around to find some kind of worth in my life.”

[slycaleb-blog]

* pulling back the veil

[slythevan-blog]

slycaleb:

( written to the name of @slythevan ) 

he’s never been one to really judge his cousin when the other was doing one of his Things – it was just his way of objectifying the whole pureblood elitist side from the sixth year slytherin. all things considered, caleb would probably hate the other had he not been related to him. they had been friends since the younger had arrived at the school and despite everything, somehow had stuck through it. he knew that it was mostly because he despised both his parents’ blood statuses (though only really voicing the muggleborn hate) that evan had actually tolerated him enough for him to say that they were close. 

but, all that aside, caleb thinks that he may have been seeing something change in the other. it’s subtle, but it was something. or he thinks it is. he’s not sure if he’s imagining it or not. 

“… how was your … ah, christmas break? back home ..?”

he doesn’t know the true extent of caleb’s thoughts. he never has, and he probably won’t for a long time to come, if his attitude of the present is his attitude into the future. there’s something connecting them through the blood they share, but even so, the other’s halfblood status should have been enough for evan to cut caleb off. but caleb had only expressed disdain for his muggle side, and that was something evan could sympathize with -- not those who were proud of their filthy blood, but for caleb to not only be related to him but also of a similar mindset (or so he thinks), it’s acceptable. 

the winter break had shaken his life up more than he could ever have dreamed possible. he’s never felt more unsure, more wavery on his beliefs than he does at that moment. caleb’s question startles him out of the funk he’d found himself in, the anger simmering under the surface, but at his cousin’s face and voice, he falters. 

“hyung.” he starts in korean, his eyebrows furrowing slightly. “i... i don’t know.” he glances away from the older slytherin with a darkening expression. “what was yours like?”

[slythevan-blog]

— * over the edge ;

[slythevan-blog]

slyjae:

jaebum couldn’t say he was disappointed at the younger for being so hateful. having known him so well, he even might’ve known that sometimes he didn’t mean it. that sometimes certain upbringings have a funny way of shaping a person.

he understood. he wished he didn’t.

maybe he could make a difference with this breadth of knowledge, but no – he wouldn’t. he didn’t equip that sort of generosity, unfortunately, so as to contribute to the good natured lightness of the world.

“to some ancient ethical value, that would be a correct notion,” he articulated carefully with a brash smile, “but they could say the same about us living in their world–outside these walls. would you say they’d be justified in that thought?” 

his eyes are dark with anger, hatred, and it’s a scary thing to see on a face that young. perhaps if this had been a different era, a different time, evan’s thinking might have fit perfectly in line with a certain group now vanquished. 

but jaebum’s words bring him to a pause for a moment before he scoffs. “why would any pureblood family send their children to muggles?” he retorts, his lips turned downwards in a very displeased expression. “they’re muggles. what do they know?” 

a repetition of his mother’s words -- mindless, senseless hatred that has no real basis behind it. in short, everything jaebum says is right, but evan won’t acknowledge it. (he can’t, his whole life has been built on this -- who is he, if not his mother’s son?)

[slythevan-blog]

— * wilting ;

[slythevan-blog]

ravrose:

There was nothing more frustrating than being stunned into submission – which was exactly how Rose Park felt as her ideas were unceremoniously thrown back at her face. It wasn’t fair, not the unprecedentedly rude words coming from his mouth, the way her brilliant mind froze mid-thought, and also how the words refused to leave parted lips. But most of all, it was all too frustrating when her dam of tears broke– and telltale hurt started streaking down pale cheeks. 

( Too weak. She is much too weak )

“N-No I-” She didn’t know what to say as he tucked his books in his bag. No words could perfectly describe her absolute need to get their project moving for the class – she was already reeling at the possibility of getting a mark that would drag her entire year’s average down. And that only made her tears run even more freely– to her utter horror. 

I’m not stupid, she wanted to say – yell, scream, anything – but the only thing she could do is sit numbly with glistening tracks of tears down her cheeks, mouth open with no words coming out. Frustrated, very terribly so. 

a mark won’t affect him; he can deal with a failing mark, knowing full well that his abilities to catch up and perform in the class will buoy him through the exams with ease. unlike the ravnenclaw that had been assigned as his partner, the know-it-all who couldn’t seem to accept a mistake on her part. 

there’s a small voice that tells him, perhaps he’s been a bit too harsh, but he shoves it down roughly. she’s a halfblood, he reminds himself. there’s nothing here that she deserves. 

scoffing at her pitiful position, the tears streaking down her face, mouth gaping open (rather like a fish, in his opinion), he can’t help but be darkly pleased at how much he’d managed to ruin her usual composure. “what a waste of time.” he mutters before he slings his bag over his shoulder, uncaring of the stares he’s getting as he slips between the gaps to exit the classroom. 

freedom, at last. with a side of tears, no less. how pleasant.

[slythevan-blog]

gryffirene:

❈ @slythevan​ — ❛ promis juré ❜

her gryffindor courage was failing her. 

twice has irene paced the corridor outside her brother’s room–garnering the concern of their house elves who she merely patted on the head and sent their way. it’s in the end of her third round does she finally stop and breathe deep, fingers curled in a too tight fist as she raises her hand to knock on his bedroom door.

“evan? it’s irene,” she calls out, voice steadier than expected. “do you have a moment?”

they’ve returned home for the holidays, as they always do. their mother would never let them not come home for such an important family holiday; and to purebloods, appearances are everything, after all. it’s not that evan dislikes going home, though. the comforts at home are always so much nicer than at hogwarts -- but he wonders why coming home always feels like walking into a stranglehold. 

there’s a knock on his bedroom door, and the sound of his sister’s voice immediately following afterwards. “nuna?” he asks, standing up and striding to the door with a curious expression on his face. “i always have time for you. what is it?”

[byulbitbo]

© Take A Bow | DO NOT EDIT

[slythevan-blog]

— * over the edge ;

[slythevan-blog]

slyjae:

jaebum arched a brow and eyed the other most observantly. there was an edge to jinyoung, a particular one that made him crank his neck in mild discomfort. was he frightened?

 maybe, a little. 

it was something to be so bitter at such an age. didn’t sit well in his stomach – not quite. despite knowing in abundance the level of hatred a proud bred like jinyoung, like himself, could have, he didn’t take to such a threatening look looming on a youthful face. 

“breathe, you’re trembling.” he said seriously, though with a small grim smile. ”what’d he say?”

his lips tighten in their scowl, his eyes darkening in anger, and he inhales shakily, a breath shuddering out. he is prideful to a fault, so firmly ensconced in the knowledge (mistaken or not) that he is so much better than the other people attending the school. only purebloods, and only ones who are not blood traitors, are considered worthy in his eyes. 

and those he’d known from childhood -- childhood friendships are so hard to break, no matter how much evan likes to pretend. 

but his pride colors his attitude, his anger flooding through him like fire. even despite that, he listens to jaebum, as he has since childhood. “he keeps sniping at me -- a bloody muggleborn shouldn’t even be allowed to attend --” he doesn’t fully mean his words. deep in his heart, he doesn’t fully believe what his mother had drilled into him endlessly, but he’s angry, and in his anger, he says everything.

[slythevan-blog]

— * instant regret ;

[slythevan-blog]

ravbelle:

the gentle touch to her sleeve has her glancing over at him, a bit confused as she does, unsure of what he might want from her and she blinks at his curled up figure, tilting her head slightly as she tries to figure it out. the words he manages to mumble as her nodding, assuming he wanted her to continuing reading and she does, flipping the pages until she finds something that’s almost as well known – to her, at least. 

she’s unsure if the magical community knew shakespeare at all, honestly. instead of saying anything though, belle chooses one of her bookmarked pages and she flips to it, taking a breath before she starts reading again. 

“to be, or not to be – that is the question: whether ‘tis nobler in the mind to suffer the slings and arrows of outrageous fortune or to take arms against a sea of troubles and by opposing end them. to die, to sleep – no more – and by a sleep to say we end the heartache, and the thousand natural shocks that flesh is heir to. 'tis a consummation devoutly to be wished. to die, to sleep– to sleep–perchance to dream: ay, there’s the rub, for in that sleep of death what dreams may come when we have shuffled off this mortal coil, must give us pause. there’s the respect that makes calamity of so long life. for who would bear the whips and scorns of time, th’ oppressor’s wrong, the proud man’s contumely the pangs of despised love, the law’s delay, the insolence of office, and the spurns that patient merit of th’ unworthy takes, when he himself might his quietus make with a bare bodkin? who would fardels bear, to grunt and sweat under a weary life, but that the dread of something after death, the undiscovered country, from whose bourn no traveller returns, puzzles the will, and makes us rather bear those ills we have than fly to others that we know not of? thus conscience does make cowards of us all, and thus the native hue of resolution is sicklied o'er with the pale cast of thought, and enterprise of great pitch and moment with this regard their currents turn awry and lose the name of action. – soft you now, the fair ophelia! – nymph, in thy orisons be all my sins remembered.”

hopefully that was okay, considering she hadn’t stumbled over many words in it, not remembering that the soliloquy was that long honestly, glancing at him curiously and she raises an eyebrow, holding back a comment that she wanted to make. this was probably not the best time to say anything about his comment the first time they had spoken, though she’s sure she’s going to accidentally say it later … or on purpose. 

“.. are you okay?”

[ TRIGGER WARNINGS: claustrophobia, implied panic attack ]

he draws in a shaky, uncertain breath, his eyes fluttering slightly as he shudders, a tremble working itself through his body. he feels so small and cold here, his eyes closing as her voice washes over him. it’s weird, for him, but in this moment, he feels more true to himself than he’s allowed himself to feel in far too long of a time. in this moment, it’s him and his fear, and the ravenclaw’s voice. for this one moment, her blood doesn’t matter to him. the fear of the dark, enclosed space overrides his mother’s teachings. 

it’s almost weird, how feeling so trapped can make him feel so free in the same moment. 

his breathing slowly starts to even out as her voice continues to lilt through the words of the soliloquy even he knows snatches of. there’s guilt that washes through him, faint in comparison to the overriding panic, but he remembers. he remembers all the things he’s said to her, and he wonders faintly why she would bother to help someone who’s done nothing but step all over her since they’d first met. 

maybe he’s been wrong this whole time. the thought sends anger rushing through him, twining with the fear, and he hates himself for doubting his mother at all. but it’s been happening for years, these seeds of doubt, and he doesn’t think that all of the people telling him his way of thinking is wrong could possibly be crazy. not all of them, altogether. 

but maybe he’s angry because he had to accept help from a muggleborn -- from someone lesser than him. his thoughts are as jumbled as his heart, his senses cast out in every direction, seeking some kind of explanation. 

her question catches him by surprise in the middle of his thoughts, having almost calmed down amidst the tone of her voice. “i...” he hesitates for a moment before he says quietly, “i’m okay.” it sounds more genuine this time than it had the last time he’d said it, but there’s still a clear tremble in the bravado.

[dahyunrk-blog]

ice cold butt

[slythevan-blog]

gryfsilas:

evan’s tone doesn’t come as a surprise to silas, he was used to the other boy after all these years and he even laughs a little. “you know, you’re so mean to the people who just want to actually waste their time to spend time with you. stop being such a slytherin.” 

silas doesn’t mean to sound like a nagging dad, or one of those subscribers to house stereotypes but it was apt, in that people understood stereotypes for a reason. “no offense though and people can be worth it.” and he almost reaches to ruffle evan’s hair in affection. 

he rolls his eyes in response, unable to help himself. silas may be a gryffindor, but he’s a bearable gryffindor. small mercies, he supposes. in fact, he thinks that silas might be better suited to the slytherin house than some of the people who had managed to slither their way into the house of snakes. 

“that’s such a gryffindor way to think.” he retorts quietly, shaking his head slightly. “they’re not worth it. i’m already friends with people who are worth it.”

[slythevan-blog]

krslytherin:

it was a shame, during their younger years they’d spend a lot of time together, but once krystal’s parents decided to cut the elitist pureblood bullshit – half the wizarding community shut them out. their own family included. the generations were different now. anyone their age didn’t care about blood status as much as their parents did. the influence evan was under – it hurt her and made her feel uncomfortable that he wasn’t provided with the same level of comfort as she was. being able to be yourself was a blessing these days, one he didn’t have.

“are you even surprised?” she raised an eyebrow. head girl or not, krystal did what she pleased in terms of punishment. “she got what she deserved.” her expression fell upon the mention of evan’s mother. she wishes evan would realize how great he is on his own and how much potential he had to be an amazing wizard, but those words wouldn’t mean much unless if he believed it himself. “we don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want too.” krystal said with a soft smile. “but if you do want to talk about it, that’s fine also.”

krystal had been one of the people he’d always missed when her family had been cut out from their family, essentially. his mother had banned him from seeing her again, and that had been one person he had been reluctant to lose. she had always been kind to him, and there was one thing in which he differed from his mother -- blood was blood, and those whom he had grown to love so deeply could not be thrown away callously. 

“i’m not surprised, but i should be,” he retorts playfully, shaking his head in amusement. he sees her face fall when he mentions his mother, and it causes him to wince a little bit -- those faces spark something strange inside him, leaving him feeling uncomfortable. his lips quirk up uncertainly at the corners, and he shakes his head ever so slightly. “i don’t know what to think anymore, nuna. she always... i don’t know. i don’t know what to think.” his voice is soft and he refuses to meet her eyes. “lately, i’ve been thinking.”

[slythevan-blog]

— * awkward silences ;

[slythevan-blog]

slyxng:

“surprising.” his tone is bland, borderline sarcastic, even. there are a hundred-and-one things to do with his night and a hundred-and-one better people to spend the night with than this poor excuse of a boy.

the fact that evan is even in the same house as yixing is not only infuriating, but also disappointing. here is the house of ambition and wit, and evan clearly has none. from what yixing can remember evan is a shadow of his family; tradition without ambition brings people nowhere.

though yixing could have shut up then, and though he can say the following things freely anywhere else, this is their issue, and theirs alone. that’s as far as he will go in terms of respect. “did your mother give you one before you crawled out from under her skirt, little worm, or did you happen to find it in the basement after i was gone?”

his eyes darken at the other’s sarcastic reply. there’s no surprise there -- yixing has made it more than clear that he is despised, and while evan can understand why, he doesn’t think it’s fair for yixing to take out hatred for his mother on the son. he doesn’t understand the true reason why yixing despises him. it’s not exactly something he can comprehend with his limited ability to understand the limitations and shallowness of his own character. 

the words that want to spill out of his lips are caustic and cruel, but he knows that there will be no benefit to generating animosity between them. they have to patrol together on occasion, and with him being on the quidditch team, animosity off the field can translate easily to the same thing on the field. 

but at the same time, there’s no way a halfblood should be able to get away with speaking to him like that. “i’ve always had one,” he can’t help but snipe back, “it’s just not worth the effort to waste it on those who aren’t worth it.” it’s not quite a direct shot, but it’s clear to everyone at hogwarts what evan bae thinks of those without pure blood.