#whoever wins will basically be my new favourite | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

cheshiresense · 1 year

Text

Anon:

Fandom: Harry Potter (CLV kinda?)

Character or Ship: Hadrian from CLV, I love Hadrian/Orion but that might not work here so it's totally up to you!

AU/Trope: I'd love to see an AU where instead of the CLV dimension, Hadrian is sent to a universe still with BWL!Neville but more similar to canon. Maybe with Slytherin!Hadrian and Hadrian taking some of the other Slytherins under his wing? I just really like the idea of a world where the "good guys" win and instead of (or in addition to) Orion it's the Slytherins who need Hadrian in their corner. Doesn't have to be all of them, whoever you prefer writing is fine. I am also down for bashing if you need to work that in. Thank you!

Tags: CLV AU, Slytherin!Hadrian, Canonical Prejudices, Draco Malfoy Bashing, kind of?, tbh this is more or less how I see him in canon lol but I know he's a fan favourite so fair warning, he's not the CLV version here, at least not yet.

-0-

Author's Notes: Hello, it's been a while since I've worked on these. I think I mentioned before that my tumblr inbox got glitchy so I actually couldn't find the other 6 requests from the last batch of 10 you guys sent in for 5+ Headcanons. So I set up an airtable form instead and got someone to test it, and this was the one they sent. It works, so in the future, I'll toss out a new post with the form link for more requests, and maybe I'll get through them in a timely manner lol.

If you're not in the UraIchi server, then you might've noticed that I've sort of been MIA on the writing front for a while now, the last time I wrote and posted something was like back in May last year, and honestly I've been kind of tired and burnt out ever since, and real life is kicking my ass a bit, so when I do have spare time, all I feel like doing is reading fics or webnovels and sleeping. But the winter hols were a nice break for me, and I've started on a couple new fic ideas and added to some wips on and off over the past few months, so I'm slowly getting back into it, and this 5+ Headcanons prompt was one of the things I've been working on. Hopefully, I'll be able to get back into posting fics soon.

ANYWAY, on to the stuff you actually care about: Slytherin!Hadrian, so basically amp up the hardened war vet and dial down the friendship magic XD Way back when I first started CLV, I did consider Slytherin for his House but it felt like everybody did that, plus the politics I would have to get into gave me a headache and I felt like I couldn't do it justice anyway, so I went with Hufflepuff. Slytherin does give me more options to play with a powerful Hadrian who has less morals about flinging that around to get what he wants though since he would be viewed as a halfblood at best and he'd need that currency to make sure nobody messes with him, especially if this universe is more canon than CLV (lbr, almost everybody is at least 50% nicer in CLV lol). So okay, let's give this a spin.

(AO3 Link Here -- I’ll add this to the collection fic on my AO3 to make it a round 15 but this one will be the last for that. If I do more, I’ll start a new fic.)

-0-0-0-

Hadrian ends up being a Hatstall. He sits on the stool for a full seven minutes as the Sorting Hat sifts through his bloodstained memories with a silence so grim Hadrian is tempted to comfort it. Then it proceeds to send back memories of its own, the major points of recent Hogwarts history that would best help Hadrian fit in - Neville, the Boy-Who-Lived; an image of Hadrian's counterpart and an entire family still alive; Quirrell vanquished in first year, a basilisk slain and a diary that bled itself to death in the second, Remus teaching in the third but no Pettigrew in sight; Neville at odds with Potter, Gryffindors at odds with Slytherins, and Death Eater children who hadn't managed to come out of the last war as financially and politically secure as families like the Malfoys, subtly shunned for their parents' sins, while children from the Light side, the winning side, with parents who'd openly defied Voldemort, can do almost no wrong. On the surface, everything looks bright and happy. Beneath it, malcontent and despair bubbles and brews with hardly anyone the wiser, and those who are, are glad to look away.

The Sorting Hat offers no opinions of its own after it is done, only continuing on to extol the virtues of all four Houses while making an argument for why Hadrian would be perfectly suited for each of them in equal measure, before finally leaving the decision in Hadrian's hands.

"Even I cannot be certain where you would do the most good," the Sorting Hat tells him. "Nor do I know which House would do you the most good. There are many children in this school who could use a helping hand such as yours, and likewise, you too would benefit from the same. Who am I to decide which is more important? Perhaps it is most accurate to say that no matter where you end up, who you will help, and who you will allow to help you, a new future will unfold, one made possible only by your existence. Yours is a fate that demands change, Mr. Evans, for better or for worse. But when peril looms on the distant horizon, when our society insists on blind stagnancy, and its people have long stood divided, change is exactly what this world needs. Thus, I leave the choice to you. Where do you wish to go?"

Hadrian says nothing - thinks nothing - for a long deafening minute. The mounting whispers in the Great Hall are easy enough to tune out, and within the confines of his mind, the Hat too remains patiently silent.

The truth of it is - Hadrian is tired. Even now, in this moment, in this place, one year and an entire dimension and seven years away, he still feels like he does on most days— as if he's just walked off a battlefield at the end of one of those kinds of days that can break a man even when you think there's nothing left to break, yet still hyper-alert for the next enemy, the next fight, the next death, because he doesn't know how to do anything else, how to be anything else. On all the rest, of course, it feels as if he never left the battlefield at all.

He is tired, and he honestly doesn't feel like he's capable of helping anyone, not children, not the reflections of his loved ones, and certainly not an entire world that's rapidly revealing itself to be as stuck on a one-way train to hell as his original world had been.

He doesn't want to be a hero, doesn't know how to be one even after all these years, even when other people had always so desperately wanted him to be. A hero, until he'd proven unable to meet their expectations, and then he'd been their villain, right up until they'd needed a hero to stand in front of them again, and round and round and round they'd gone.

The only thing he could never be was just Harry, just himself, and now even Harry Potter is no longer his to claim.

But maybe that's not so bad, not when Harry Potter has always been more story than reality, a patchwork fairytale portrait of a boy, a man, a weapon, a sacrifice, stitched together by every hand except his own.

Maybe Hadrian Evans could be something different.

Gryffindor feels too much like repeating history, and Hadrian would rather not be forced to stare at the majority of those long dead to him day in and day out. Hufflepuff is too prone to crowding together for his liking, persistently eager to be friends with their own members even if they're quick to turn on those who aren't, and Hadrian doesn't think he can bear the overenthusiastic socializing that would require.

Ravenclaw might be best, a House where even the most introverted can find a home if they have a thirst for knowledge, but at the same time, for a lot of them, once they latch on to a question unanswered or an opinion that doesn't fit their worldview, they won't let go until the question is exhausted or the opinion has conformed to what they consider acceptable, and Hadrian has too many secrets and no more patience to be what others what him to be to fit in with those sorts of people anymore. Besides, he's never quite forgiven that House as a whole. Marietta Edgecombe had been Ravenclaw. Quirrell and Lockhart and Trelawney had been Ravenclaws. Every single one of Luna's bullies had been Ravenclaws. He'd worked with members of that House over the years, taught them back when the DA had been up and running, and even been friendly with some of them beyond just Luna, but generally speaking, he has no positive emotions regarding Ravenclaw. He knows that he isn't being entirely fair, because Voldemort had been from Slytherin, and Pettigrew had been from Gryffindor, and the worst of the lot who'd spearheaded the damaging gossip and baseless accusations incriminating him - first for the Heir of Slytherin debacle in second year, and then the Cup nonsense in fourth year - had all been from Hufflepuff, but still, Ravenclaw simply stands out as that one House that holds no appeal for him.

That really only leaves one place he can go though, and Hadrian finds that he minds that a lot less than he once would've. Slytherin will have its own problems, him being a halfblood at best with a very obvious muggle surname, but Slytherins also respect power, and most of them have the sense to back off if they realize they're picking a fight with an opponent they can't beat. And once that's dealt with, Hadrian will most likely be avoided and left to his own devices, with only the occasional curse to his back to worry about. From a bunch of schoolchildren, that's a negligible issue.

In his head, the Sorting Hat chuckles. "Very well then. If you're sure, better be-"

"SLYTHERIN!"

But Mr. Evans," the Sorting Hat says in the seconds before it's removed from Hadrian's head. It sounds thoroughly amused. "Do not be so quick to underestimate your own heart."

And with that last ominous statement imparted to haunt him, Hadrian stands to lacklustre applause and makes his way to his new House as his tie settles into green and silver stripes.

The briefest of glances over the stretch of the Slytherin table tells him that none of the students seated where most of the fourth-years are gathered have moved to make room for him. That's fine. Hadrian would rather not be boxed in anyway. He takes a seat at the end of the table, smiles at the suspicious first-years around him, and then waits for Dumbledore's opening speech to finish so they can start the feast.

Fifteen minutes later, one treacle tart and a glass of pumpkin juice is all he can manage. He sips at some water for the rest of dinner even as he wishes it was something a lot more alcoholic. He speaks to no one, and no one tries to speak to him, although plenty of prying eyes and sneers of disdain find their way to him throughout the meal.

It makes him feel, Hadrian thinks with some humour, almost nostalgic.

Near the end of the evening, he thinks about going over to the Gryffindor table to find Neville, Ron, and Hermione. But he's in Slytherin now, so he doesn't know how they'll react, and after another moment of contemplation, he decides against it. Not much can embarrass him anymore, but he'd still rather not be put on the spot if the Golden Trio rejects his overture of friendship. It won't help his reputation in Slytherin either if he ends up making a spectacle of himself like that. There's plenty of time tomorrow to see how they'll feel about maintaining ties with a Slytherin without too big of an audience watching, and if they're against it, then, well, it's not as if Hadrian hasn't been living as a recluse over the better part of the past year anyway. He sees no problem carrying on exactly as he has.

Fate sent him here against his explicit permission but she sure as shit can't make him dance.

-0-0-0-

Hadrian ends up shuffled into a dorm room with five very familiar Slytherins - Draco Malfoy, Vincent Crabbe, Gregory Goyle, Blaise Zabini, and Theodore Nott. He gets the remaining bed that's presumably been empty since the others' first year, and a very pointed silence coalesces at his back as he starts unpacking his clothes into his wardrobe.

He ignores it. Instead, he absently begins a count of how long it will take for someone - he's betting Draco - to put their foot in their mouth first. He casts a glance at the floor-to-ceiling window next to his nightstand; like the Gryffindor dorms, the room is circular so everyone has a view to the outside, but here, instead of winds and open skies, it's lake water that shimmers against the glass, with the shadows of passing aquatic life flickering by. It's not bad, just different; the ambience of it is almost soothing.

Someone clears their throat behind him. Hadrian hangs up his winter cloak before moving on to his books. They each get a desk too, complete with a mini bookcase, which the Gryffindor dorms don't have. They have to do their homework on their beds or in the common room. How unfair. But at least Hadrian gets to benefit from it now.

Someone clears their throat again, louder this time. Hadrian smothers a twist of a smirk and bends over his trunk again to fish out his towels and toiletries. His more personal belongings can remain inside, although he'll have to ward everything to the nines anyway.

A displeased noise that comes out gilded with that distinctly familiar Dudley-esque whine of a child who's been spoiled since birth and has never known hardship reaches his ears, and then finally-

"Are you deaf, Evans?!" Draco demands, and oh, look at that, Hadrian wins the bet.

He straightens and turns, idly fiddling with a packet of quills as his gaze falls on the blond standing puffed up and bristling by the bed opposite Hadrian's on the other side of the dorm. He looks him over, looks at Crabbe and Goyle bracketing him with twin expressions of oafish scorn, looks at Zabini standing a ways away, watching the whole room with a smirk that doesn't reach his eyes, looks at Nott who doesn't look at anyone at all.

His attention returns to Draco, considering him for a moment longer before asking mildly, "Did you say something?"

Draco's cheeks flush pink even as he draws himself up and snaps, "You should at least have enough manners to introduce yourself!" His face narrows into a sneer, and Hadrian can almost predict his next words. "But I suppose even that might be too difficult for a mudblood to learn."

For a second, Hadrian wonders if he should tell him he's a halfblood. Then again, it doesn't really matter, and also some people consider halfbloods to be mudbloods too. And now that he thinks about it, the person he is in this world might actually be a muggleborn. But he was homeschooled so at least one of his fictional parents had to have known magic, right? Then again, they could've just been related to a witch or wizard but were muggles themselves. Who knows. Certainly not him since Fate couldn't be bothered to inform him.

"Evans, are you listening to me?!"

Hadrian blinks out of his thoughts. "Yes, I'm listening, what is it?"

Draco glares. His features are so… pointy at this age that the expression doesn't really carry the impact he's probably going for, but Hadrian figures it would be unnecessarily mean to mention it, so he doesn't. Instead, he quickly reviews everything Draco has said, and there wasn't actually a question anywhere in there, as far as Hadrian can tell, but maybe Draco really does want an introduction. Seems like a waste of breath though.

"Is there a point to introducing myself?" He asks. "Everybody heard my name at the Sorting. You even just used it so it's not like you don't know."

Draco splutters as if that wasn't what he expected Hadrian to say. He recovers after a moment and opts to glower harder instead, as if that would hide the way the pink in his cheeks is slowly turning red. Poor bastard. That's what you get when you have a pale complexion and fluster easily.

"Are you actually a mudblood then?" He demands contemptuously.

Hadrian honestly doesn't know, but he can't say that, so he volleys back, "Does Slytherin accept muggleborns?"

He knows they take halfbloods, but he can't remember any muggleborns in Slytherin, although if there are any, he doubts they would be willing to broadcast it, even if it means inventing a magical parent in their family tree.

"Of course not!" Draco refutes, sounding scandalized.

Hadrian can't tell if that's actually true, or if that's just Draco's own belief, but it does make things easier. "Then…" He shrugs. "If you already know, why are you asking?"

A beat of silence passes, then two. The red deepens in Draco's face as he hisses dramatically, "Are you mocking me?"

Hadrian suppresses a sigh. He probably is being too flippant for someone as high-strung as Draco, but it's still a far sight from mockery. He can definitely do better if he wants to taunt someone. Had his world's Draco been this easily riled up? They hadn't even really gotten into any exchange of insults yet. "I wouldn't say I'm-"

He stops.

Across the room, Draco has pulled out his wand, and when he realizes that Hadrian's broken off mid-sentence, the flush recedes from his face, and a triumphant smirk instantly takes its place instead.

"Since you've been sorted into Slytherin," Draco announces, raising his wand with a ridiculously showy flourish that makes Hadrian twitch with the desire to correct his posture. "You should know your place. Mouthing off to your betters is a good way to get cursed around here, especially when you're in the presence of someone like me." He sneers down his nose even as his chin tips up, all peacock proud. "My name is Malfoy. Draco Malfoy. Even the likes of your kind should've heard of my family." He looks smug, as if a mere surname can protect him from anything when it comes down to it. "You'll be staying here for the next four years, Evans, and I guarantee you'll have a miserable time of it if you get on my bad side. But today's your first day at Hogwarts, so I can be generous. If you apologize, I'll let you go just this once."

An expectant hush falls as Draco finishes his little speech. Hadrian doesn't say anything right away, still turning over the packet of quills in his hands, still waiting. When nothing happens after a good five seconds tick by, and the silence gradually becomes strained, Hadrian finally nods at Draco's wand, "So are you going to use that or not?"

The stunned look of outrage on Draco's face is gold.

"Don't say I didn't warn you, Evans!" Draco snarls, jabbing out with his wand. "Oscausi!"

Hadrian has time to arch an eyebrow at the choice of a pseudo-silencing charm before he's flipping a quill into the fingers of his left hand. A swipe of his thumb leaves a chain of runes glittering along its shaft, and then he brings it up, catches the oncoming spell with the tip, and swats it aside with a flick of his wrist, all in one fluid motion. His right hand doesn't stay still either as his wand slides neatly into his palm, and a single wordless modified Expelliarmus darts out and attaches itself to Draco's wand.

The white light of the Mouth-Sealing Charm is sent soaring across the room, shattering against the door in a shower of harmless sparks, and in the heavy silence that follows, Hadrian smiles.

He thinks it's a very bland smile, if he does say so himself. At the very least, he's careful to not look too intimidating or too unhinged, the way he can sometimes get, if some of his dead friends were to be believed, back during the war. Nevertheless, it still makes Draco blanch white, makes Crabbe and Goyle shrink back, makes Zabini lean further back into a convenient shadow and Nott go utterly still from where he's sitting on his bed.

Hadrian glances down at the remains of his writing utensil, most of the barbs now burnt black. It was a regular quill after all, not exactly made to withstand so much magic. He looks back up, at Draco who has a white-knuckled grip on his wand, and with his own wand, he gives the other's a tug, just enough to make Draco's eyes go wide with something like panic, but not enough to actually disarm him and - considering the sheer amount of honed intent in the charm that even Draco can undoubtedly sense - most likely bend the wand's allegiance.

Hadrian holds it for a moment longer, and then lets go. Draco staggers back a step, jerking his wand down and reflexively pressing it into his chest as if he's trying to protect it, or maybe assure himself that it still belongs to him.

Hadrian tucks his wand back up his sleeve before stooping down to pick up the rest of the quills he'd dropped. The burnt one goes in the bin by his desk.

Nobody speaks. Nobody even moves. So Hadrian does.

"That took you almost five seconds," He begins almost conversationally as he opens a drawer to stash his remaining quills away. "From when you decided to fire that spell to actually firing it. And that's not even counting all the time you wasted saying the stuff before that, after you already took out your wand. It's stupid. When you draw with the intent to harm, you shouldn't give any warning at all. And the spell itself was slow. You should work on that."

He pauses, and there's still no response, which he supposes makes sense. He doubts anybody here wants to listen to him preach. He should just wrap things up since the plan is moving along so neatly.

"Anyway, this is pretty unfortunate," He switches gears and smiles again, as fit-for-public-polite as he knows how to be. It doesn't seem to make anyone feel better, but he also doesn't feel like he was that heavy-handed earlier, was he? Ah well, can't change anything now, and it's still in line with what he wants so it doesn't matter.

"I wasn't really expecting to make any friends since I know the average Slytherin's views on blood isn't exactly in my favour," He continues in light tones. "But I was hoping that we could at least remain on civil terms and get along as schoolmates, if only because we'll be living together for the rest of our time at Hogwarts. Since that doesn't seem to be possible anymore though, how about we just go with the simplest solution?"

Hadrian surveys the room and smiles some more. "You ignore me and I’ll ignore you. You attack me and I'll retaliate. An eye for an eye, so to speak. Everybody just needs to mind their own business, and there won't be any problems. That's fair enough, don't you think?"

His gaze settles once more on Draco. "Since you're the only one who's said anything so far, I'll assume you speak for everyone in this dorm. Draco Malfoy, right? So then, do we understand each other now?"

Across from him, Draco shivers imperceptibly like a rabbit caught at the wrong end of a predator's line of sight, but he also swallows and nods and gingerly puts his wand away. It looks like it costs him, but - at least for now - he seems both too shocked and too afraid to try anything else.

"Great!" Hadrian says cheerfully before cocking his head as a thought occurs to him. "Oh, right, one more thing."

He lets his smile fall away. Lets his expression smooth over into marble. And then he lets his magic flare, lets the pressure of it roll across the room like the black merciless depths of a storm-tossed ocean, lets it eclipse them all like death come to call, and then he brings it crashing down, not most of it, not even half, because he hasn't forgotten that these are children, that they're still young, and they can learn, they can be better, and Hadrian doesn't actually want to traumatize them permanently.

But he also remembers Draco - his world's Draco - telling him once, in a fit of aggravated exasperation during one of those times when they'd devolved into insulting each other's House traits yet again because they still hadn't understood what made the other tick, but they had also reached a point in their friendship where they'd started trying to, and kept trying.

"Slytherins respect power," Draco had said, not for the first time, but then he'd also added, for the first time, and haltingly as if he hadn't known why he'd had to explain it at all, "How else are you going to know they're worth your time? Or I guess worth befriending, in your Gryffindor terms."

"You don't decide whether or not to make friends based on how powerful someone is."

"Slytherins don't have friends. I only said friend because you're a Gryffindor and you don't understand anything else."

"Fine, you don't decide whether or not to associate with every single person you come across in your life based on how powerful they are either."

"Why not?"

"Why would you??"

"How else would you know they're strong enough to stand with you? Or competent enough to protect themselves? Power is a good starting line. If they're powerful enough, then they won't be afraid to face your enemies with you, and you can trust them to be capable of keeping themselves safe without having to keep an eye on them every minute of the day. Only brainless Gryffindors prefer doing things like throwing themselves in the line of fire and dying dramatically for each other and calling that a win. Let me tell you something, Potter - it's not a victory when you're forced to suffer a loss. You haven't won anything if you're not around to enjoy the aftermath. So the best allies must be ones who are powerful enough to not only achieve their goals but also survive them."

"…"

"Well, I will grudgingly admit that I didn't put quite that much thought into it when I was younger, but who did? …It's what I believe now though. Did I finally get it through your thick skull this time, Potter?"

After that particular conversation, Hadrian had understood a little better, even if he hadn't entirely agreed with it all. But he hadn't forgotten a single word, and Draco was right— as they are, these kids definitely aren't thinking that deeply, but Hadrian thinks that the core of it at least is the same. Slytherins respect power. And he has power in spades, so at the very least, he can make them respect him.

Of course, if that also happens to make them afraid of him, then, well, he was never aiming to be their friend or even ally anyway. So long as they leave him alone, it's fine.

He brings his magic to bear, allows the weight of it to fall and fall and fall, and he watches dispassionately as Draco goes grey, as Crabbe and Goyle's knees buckle, as Zabini flinches back like he wants to melt into the walls, as Nott curls into himself and may or may not have stopped breathing.

Hadrian catches Draco's eye, and doesn't let him look away. "I have no betters. Do I make myself clear?"

He'd spent half his life being beaten down by the Dursleys, told over and over that he was worth nothing, that he didn’t deserve food or clothes or kindness, that he was a waste of space and better off dead. He'd spent a good chunk of his Hogwarts career obliviously dancing to Dumbledore's tune, and then some more of it knowingly dancing to it because what else could he do with a target on his back. He'd spent over twenty years shackled to Voldemort, to his parents' legacy, to a war that had loved him a whole lot more than he'd ever loved it. And he'd been Fate's everything since before he'd ever even been born.

Some days, he wonders if he even knows what freedom is anymore. Or if he's ever known at all.

But one thing he is sure of is that he will never passively tolerate anyone controlling what he can or cannot do ever again.

Draco whimpers something like agreement, like deference, like surrender, and- that's enough. Hadrian reels it all back, all his magic hidden away again, and in the dizzying wake of its abrupt disappearance, Draco collapses, barely catching himself and his dignity with the edge of his bed. Crabbe and Goyle do crash to the ground, while Zabini has to steady himself against his nightstand, and Nott sways like he might faint.

Too much, Hadrian thinks distantly, and tries to feel bad about it because he really hadn't meant to go that far, but his lines in the sand have also long since blurred away beneath a tide of blood and corpses.

Mostly, he just feels tired, and it has nothing to do with his displays of magic tonight.

He breathes. Turns. Grabs a towel and his underwear and pyjamas and pretends everything's fine. It is fine, now. He's gotten what he wanted. "It's getting late. I'll shower first. Won't be long."

And then he's exiting stage right, straight into the bathroom, and it's a relief to close the door behind him.

Of course, that sentiment is one that's shared by probably every single person in the room.

-0-0-0-

Theo is awake before anyone else the next morning. Or at least he thinks he is because he usually is. But everybody's curtains are drawn, and after last night, he doubts anyone was able to sleep right away, if at all, with the exception of their new roommate.

Hadrian Evans. Great Merlin, where had this person even come from? Even just the memory of his magic - vast and endless and utterly uncompromising - pressing down on them like the sky had fallen on their heads, makes his hands want to shake all over again. For a long, suspended, suffocating moment that could've lasted an eternity, Theo could've sworn he was going to die last night. And the most terrifying thing is that he is absolutely certain that Evans hadn't even been trying that hard.

Evans had radiated enough raw power to force all of them to their knees if he'd really wanted to. But he'd held back. He'd only given them a glimpse, just enough to warn them off. The rest of his magic had been out of reach, but present. It was there, reined in and waiting, but the shape of it and the depth of it had felt… unfathomable, as if it had no limits.

And that doesn't even account for the spellwork he had done. Theo had recognized the Disarming Charm, but last he checked, the average Expelliarmus only deprived a wizard of their wand. A more powerful one might send the target flying and even knock them out, but he's never heard of one that can… threaten to disarm your opponent at your leisure and - if Theo wasn't mistaken - force the wand to forsake its owner. Everybody knows that that's always a possibility in a real duel; if you win and take your opponent's wand, then that wand might not work for its owner anymore. But most of the time, you have to mean it, you have to set out with the intent to do it, the buildup of magic in the duel itself gives that intent a foundation, and there has to be an actual possibly life-threatening conflict of interest between the parties too, a real enmity that even last night - however excessive the exchange - shouldn't have qualified. Squabbles between students just don't count. If it did, with the Disarming Charm being taught in school, there would be a lot more students in need of new wands. The only way Theo can rationalize it happening anyway is that Evans must've been strong enough to compel the wand itself to leave its owner.

Pity he hadn't gone through with it in the end. Evans is powerful, but he's also… Theo is hesitant to call him soft, but if it had been Malfoy, if it had been Blaise or even himself or pretty much any other Slytherin, they would've done it. He's unsure of why Evans hadn't.

And then there had been the thing with the quill. Theo can't even explain that, and he'd mulled it over for half the night. He has the… incidental fortune of occupying the bed closest to Evans', so as soon as Evans had ducked into the bathroom last night, and the others had been distracted with pulling themselves together and possibly trying not to wet themselves, Theo had chanced a swift peek into Evans' wastebasket.

It really had looked just like any other regular quill, one that'd been burnt completely black and missing most of its barbs, but it had been a quill. He'd been tempted to open Evans' desk drawer to check the other quills, but - with Evans' ultimatum still ringing in his ears - he hadn't been that suicidal, so he'd refrained. But from what he could recall, the pack it had come from had looked just like the mass-produced writing utensils one could find in any stationery shop in Diagon Alley.

Whatever he'd done though, he had made it look like child's play. A quill and a Disarming Charm, so fast that Theo could've blinked and missed it. Could someone like that really have remained in obscurity all this time? Evans had apparently been homeschooled up until now, and they haven't even attended their first class yet, but by anyone's definition, after last night, he can't claim to be anything less than a prodigy.

It's… unbelievable. And not even because of any of the blood purity ideals that Malfoy likes to preach about. Theo doesn't think much of muggleborns or halfbloods, but he also doesn't think much of most purebloods, so he's fairly certain it's not high society prejudices that's driving his disbelief. It's just… He's never met anyone - not even his father, and Merlin knows Theo's been afraid of him for as long as he can remember - as effortlessly powerful as Evans had shown himself to be, and he doesn't understand how nobody has heard even a whisper of a rumour of this boy before he'd arrived at Hogwarts.

Someone like him shouldn't exist. Or perhaps there has been one, and that had been how the Dark Lord had made so many people bow at his feet or cower in their homes, but Theo had never met him in person, and so all he has is Evans' example to draw from. And not a single witch or wizard whom Theo's ever met could compare.

Has Evans just been hiding himself? Maybe his family hid him before they deemed him ready to face the rest of the world, and he's certainly proven that he can hide it when he wants to. But what kind of family can bring up this kind of wizard? Evans is only fourteen. None of them had thought him anything special before he'd revealed exactly how wrong they were. And he probably wouldn't have done even that much if Malfoy hadn't immediately taken a go at him, always so obsessed with making sure everyone knows he sits at the top of the food chain.

Well, he certainly doesn't anymore, and if Theo hadn't been caught up in the confrontation last night just like everyone else, he would've been tempted to applaud the spectacle of Malfoy being taken down a peg or ten. Before Evans' arrival, Theo was the one Malfoy liked to take jabs at every few days, and it was only partly because he'd had a halfblood mother. The Notts could've been said to be respectably rich once upon a time, but after the war had ended, with his father's political clout being almost nonexistent and most of their extended relatives either dead or in Azkaban, they'd been easy pickings for the Aurors. His father had escaped prison time with the Imperius excuse and some bribes, but that hadn't prevented multiple raids on their home and a hefty list of fines that had left their vaults near-depleted. And what little fortune they have left is reserved almost entirely for Theo's father's alchemy obsession that's more often focused on illegal research topics than not, as well as his black market dealings, although neither of those at least is widely known, or who knows if they would even have their ancestral manor left after the Aurors were done with them?

Malfoy loved reminding him of almost every one of those things as often as he could, and the most absurd thing is that - more than being born from a halfblood mother or poverty or loss of prestige - Theo's pretty sure Malfoy's biggest reason for disliking Theo is because Theo had refused to follow him around like Crabbe and Goyle back in first year.

So here they are now, and after three years, Theo had more or less become inured, not to mention it wasn't as if Malfoy only bullied him, or even bullied him the most - nobody could top that list while Potter and Weasley were around to fight for first place on it - but it had still been annoying and stressful because Theo was the only one who had to share a dorm with him. Considering the Malfoys' standing in society however, all he could ever do was stay silent and bear with it.

Admittedly, he'd been a little happy when Evans had been sorted into Slytherin, because between Theo and an unknown halfblood-at-best with no allies and no significant family background to speak of, the perfect prey in every way, Malfoy would definitely enjoy targeting the latter more, and even if the blond ponce still came after Theo, it would at least take some of the pressure off of him.

Now… well. That will still probably pick back up sooner or later, but Theo resents it less when he thinks about how it will take at least a few weeks before Malfoy will be able to strut around again after last night's humiliation. And also…

He thinks again of last night, of how Evans had basically smacked Malfoy down like he was nothing more than an unruly upstart getting above himself, and of that quiet oath too - I have no betters - and it hadn't even been pride or arrogance or superiority, only stone-cold certain fact.

He thinks of the fear he'd felt, but behind that, beneath that, more than that, there had also been nothing less than a breathless, heady, wondrous sense of reverence that had settled itself behind his ribcage, in his lungs, in the sudden hungry swell of curiosity that he'd just barely managed to lock behind his teeth, and it had only grown stronger after a night of fitful sleep.

He wants to see that magic again. He wants to know what else Evans can do.

And most importantly, he wants to know if he can do it too.

-0-

Ten minutes later, Theo hears Evans pull his bed curtains back. Very cautiously, he twitches his own curtains open half an inch to watch Evans get up, stretching languidly and scrubbing a hand through his messy black hair before gathering up his toiletries and a change of clothes. Like this, he looks completely normal, nothing at all like someone who could flatten all five of his roommates with a thoughtless flex of his magic. Even his eyes are just green now, no longer glowing like the light of a Killing Curse.

Of course, then Evans waves a hand at his window curtains, which obediently sweep open in response, and… yes, why not? Wandless magic seems par for the course for Evans, even if Theo has only ever heard of a handful of seventh-years capable of some very basic wandless spells if they concentrate hard enough.

Evans leaves for the bathroom as if casual uses of wandless magic is an everyday occurrence for him, and only after the door has closed does Theo let himself relax.

Evans had never even glanced over, but somehow, Theo thinks the other boy had known he was being watched anyway. But he'd said nothing, hadn't even given any indication that he'd noticed, let alone minded. Theo still isn't sure why he'd let Malfoy off so easily yesterday - because on hindsight, when it came down to it, all Evans had really done was scare them and scare Malfoy most of all; despite the verbal abuse and even the Dark charm Malfoy had shot at him, Evans hadn't actually hurt any of them in return - and Theo doesn't get it but maybe part of it is just because Evans doesn't take offence easily.

It seems unwise to Theo to not at least dole out some injuries as a reminder when that offence had been as insolent as Malfoy's, but perhaps Evans has his own measure of such things. Besides, Malfoy's known to say worse. Theo's looking forward to what happens if Malfoy forgets himself and says something even more loathsome. It's not impossible. Malfoy has been unchallenged since he came to Hogwarts. He's used to saying and doing whatever he wants, even to the upper years and those outside his own House. Most people ignore him when they can and indulge him when they can't, or otherwise manage or placate him with their own methods, but the one thing no one has ever done is tell him no, tell him to stop and make it stick. Potter and Weasley tend to give as good as they get, what with how short their tempers are, but they're louder and more obvious about it, so they get caught more often, which just makes them even angrier, so it never actually feels like they win, even when Malfoy doesn't either. Certainly, no amount of lectures or point loss has managed to deflate his ego.

But now there's Hadrian Evans. Theo doesn't need a second demonstration to know that Malfoy is outclassed in every way, but funnily enough, Malfoy himself might need it.

Theo eyes the bathroom door for a moment longer before finally getting up himself. He's barely set his feet on the rug before Blaise - in the bed on Theo's other side - also whips open his curtains, looking far more alert than he ever has this early in the morning.

For several seconds, they stare at each other in silence. And then - because he isn't sure if the other three boys in the room are awake yet - Theo pitches his voice even lower than usual and says, "He said Malfoy spoke for us."

Blaise blinks twice, and then something like distaste curves up at one corner of his mouth. "I heard."

Theo nods. They're on the same page then. Neither of them is particularly keen on this opinion that Evans has regrettably formed, Theo because of obvious reasons, and Blaise because he's Blaise.

Blaise has always been strange. He's the type who gets along with everyone and gets along with no one. You'd be hard-pressed to find anyone - biased Gryffindors aside - who would say a bad word about him, but they'd probably have to think a while if you asked them to describe something of personal significance about him too. It's not that he's average - he's never failed a class, and he's especially good at Potions - but for all that he can carry a conversation in a way that makes everyone feel comfortable and included, and he could probably talk rings around a politician without making them feel stupid, he also never lets anyone close enough to actually get to know him. He's approachable, but only when he wants you to approach him. He's generous with his smiles, but sometimes, it feels a little like he's laughing at you. He might say something condescending or spiteful to you one day, but he has the kind of charisma that makes you forget that the very next. People might call him friend and invite him over for a chat or a game of chess, but most don't make any attempts to go beyond that. And if you know what to look for, as Theo has learned to do, you would realize - Blaise views the world like it's one big boring joke, and his estimation of most of the people in it is probably somewhere around the level of dancing clowns.

Theo doesn't mind. The two of them aren't friends either. They're also not enemies though, and occasionally, they can be allies, but only when Blaise feels like it. Sometimes, the other boy will distract Malfoy from messing up Theo's potion in class or launching yet another diatribe on all of Theo's deficiencies, but Theo will never ask him to because he has nothing to repay Blaise with.

It works for them. Blaise does what Blaise wants, and even Malfoy can't control him. Theo is secretly envious of that— with the Zabinis' seat of power in Italy, it means they don't have that much clout in Britain, and yet nobody messes with Blaise, not even the few who don't buy into Blaise's charm or simply hate him because he's a Slytherin. Not even Malfoy messes with him, and even Theo can't tell if it's Malfoy's self-preservation instincts kicking in to ensure that he isn't about to go insulting someone with a black widow mother like Blaise's, or if Malfoy genuinely hasn't noticed that Blaise doesn't respect him at all no matter how pleasant his words can be. Honestly, when it comes to Malfoy, there's a decent chance of either option being true.

With all that in mind though, it's not a surprise that Blaise isn't pleased with being slotted in as one of Malfoy's lackeys, especially by someone as impressive - or, as Blaise might put it, entertaining - as Hadrian Evans has swiftly proved himself to be.

"It's fine," Blaise says next, rolling out of bed to get ready for the day. He's already regained his typical lazy slouch, as if he hadn't been just as terrified as the rest of them last night. His eyes slide to the bathroom, then away, unreadable but more focused than Theo's ever seen them. "We live in the same dorm, and we'll attend at least most of the same classes. He'll see soon enough that we don't share the same opinions as Malfoy."

Theo watches him dig into his wardrobe. "And then?"

"Then?" Blaise tips a more familiar look of knowing amusement at him. "Then you do what you want, and I'll do what I want, and at the very least, we'll have the good sense to not throw ourselves straight onto a hippogriff's talons like dear Draco."

Theo smothers a snort and rises to his feet. Neither he nor Blaise take Care of Magical Creatures, but everybody had heard of Malfoy's idiocy last year. The phrase "my father will hear about this!" had reached a record high by winter's end. Not much had come of it, not when Hagrid had had the likes of James Potter and Sirius Black and Albus Dumbledore championing him. Even Lucius Malfoy would - and had, more than once over the years - find it difficult to contend with the British wizarding world's vaunted war heroes when they join forces. In the end, Hagrid could continue teaching so long as he did it alongside a second professor hired by the school, and even the hippogriff got to live. Malfoy had not been happy, and he'd made sure everybody knew it too, but at least he'd also whined less about it once Slytherin House had learned to snigger about it where he wouldn't hear.

But 'throwing oneself onto a hippogriff's talons' had become rather popular vernacular ever since, subtle enough that even Malfoy couldn't call anyone out on using it without embarrassing himself, but funny to everyone who understood, and nobody could even say who'd started the phrase. Theo's money would be on Blaise though.

The bathroom is spelled so that nobody outside can hear anything when the door is shut, but they can hear the lock click open just fine, and almost in tandem, he and Blaise both immerse themselves in picking out their outfits for the day as if it's a task that requires every last bit of their attention.

Evans walks out. True to his word, he ignores them completely, neither greeting them nor sparing them a glance as he moves back to his section of the dorm. Theo watches him out of the corner of his eye as the boy folds his pyjamas away before proceeding to pack his bag. He catches a glimpse of an Ancient Runes textbook, and his mind abruptly flashes back to the quill. But… that can't be right.

Evans shuts his bag, pulls on his robes, and toes on his shoes. Like this, there's something vaguely familiar about him that Theo can't place right away, and the thought is gone again as Evans slings his bag over his shoulder and strides for the door.

He still doesn't look at any of them, and he's gone from the room a moment later. They might as well have been empty air.

Theo's fingers tighten around the shirt he's holding. Somehow, he-

-doesn't like it.

-0-

Malfoy gets up two minutes after Evans is gone, moving around with an exaggeratedly unaffected sort of poise that makes Theo want to roll his eyes. At least the blond doesn't try to make conversation until Crabbe and Goyle wake up as well.

Evans aside, Theo is the first out of the room, as per usual, although this time, Blaise accompanies him up to the common room and out of the Dungeon. It takes no time at all to arrive at the Great Hall, and this early, most of the four House tables are still empty of students, although more and more are gradually drifting in in groups of threes and fours.

Unlike the other Houses who like cramming into whatever space they see, Slytherins are more political about it. The end seats are left to the outcasts or first-years who don't know better yet, while the midway point of the table is typically reserved for the most influential students, such as those with the best grades or the largest range of social connections or the strongest family background, or some combination of the three. And everybody else arranges themselves between the two extremes accordingly. The only time that changes - from what Theo has heard - is when someone is so magically powerful that they can overwhelm everyone else. Then it doesn't matter what grades or connections or background they have because magic is respected most of all, although they would usually have some qualifications in those other areas. But either way, they would be given reigning place of pride in the middle with their chosen followers around them, and everybody else would sit where they're told to sit, regardless of their accomplishments.

Someone like that hasn't come along in fifty years though, not since the Dark Lord was still at Hogwarts.

So it's jarring to see Evans seated at the very end, furthest away from the High Table, with a book open in front of him and a steaming mug in one hand, but Theo supposes it shouldn't be. He's newly transferred in, and a halfblood besides, so he probably doesn't know about the traditional seating arrangement, and since it's still just the second day of school, it's not as if anybody else outside their dorm knows that Evans is anything but the unfortunate fourth-year with a muggle surname sorted into Slytherin, so he really can be considered an outcast.

Theo exchanges a look with Blaise before tentatively taking a seat at their usual spot a few feet away from the halfway point of the table. It doesn't feel right to… go over Evans' head like this, but it's not like they can really do anything about it at the moment. Theo in particular is technically sitting above his station, but his family is still one of the Sacred Twenty-Eight, no matter how far it's fallen, and he gets decent grades in almost every class. He's also on friendly terms with Blaise, and the fact that he shares a dorm with Malfoy is a double-edged sword. Malfoy has the status to sit near the middle ever since he was a first-year, and it wouldn't look very good for him if he's seen completely spurning a Nott in his generation. So Theo is largely left alone so long as he looks like he's nominally part of Malfoy's group during mealtimes.

Theo spends the next five minutes sneaking sidelong glances down the table. Blaise does the same, and neither of them is obvious about it so nobody comes up to ask them any questions. Other Slytherins begin filing in, and more than one wrinkles their nose or sneers when they pass Evans, as if they've smelled something repulsive.

Theo has to make an effort not to wince every time it happens. Blaise watches with a shallow smirk hitched across his face and something cold and callous and thoroughly amused in his eyes.

By the time Malfoy - with Crabbe and Goyle on either side of him - sits down across from them, about half the table is full, plates of breakfast have started appearing, and Evans still hasn't looked up from his reading.

Malfoy - much less subtle - shoots something sulky and resentful with just a dash of fear down the table and mutters, "Doesn't even know how to sit properly."

Theo really does roll his eyes this time, although he makes sure to do it down at his scone. Before anyone can say anything else though, Evans unexpectedly straightens, his attention finally lifting from his book. Malfoy immediately stiffens as well like he thinks Evans had heard him from all the way down the table, which Theo wouldn't put past Evans's ability but also doesn't think that Evans thinks that Malfoy is worth that effort to eavesdrop on.

Evans looks around, but not at any of the Slytherins. He cranes his head over one shoulder, seems to catch sight of whatever he's looking for, and gets up, shutting his book and tossing it back in his bag. Then he's making his way across the Hall, past the Hufflepuffs and the Ravenclaws, straight over to the Gryffindor table that's only partially filled at the moment but is also hosting the Golden Trio, who had just come down for breakfast.

Evans stops a few feet away, and Longbottom, Weasley, and Granger turn to face him. What Theo can see of their expressions indicate that they're surprised and a little wary, but they also seem like they know each other. They converse about something, Weasley makes some exaggerated hand gestures, Granger smacks him, and then Evans says something else that makes the Gryffindors burst into laughter, startled but bright.

And then Evans moves forward and-

-sits down.

At the Gryffindor table.

Longbottom and Granger are smiling, and even Weasley - with his hatred for everything Slytherin - seems fine with it, going back to plating more food for himself while passing some sausages over to Evans.

In Theo's peripheral, Malfoy's face has lost so much colour that he could pass for a ghost. Theo can't tell if he's just that offended or if he's actually managed to comprehend the fact that he's already alienated possibly the most magically powerful student at Hogwarts from Slytherin House, to the point where that student doesn't even want to eat at the same table as them, and classes haven't even started yet.

Theo can't tell, nor does he care, but if he'd ever needed any more reasons to despise Draco Malfoy, this would be it.

He averts his gaze from Evans, even if the mere thought of him preferring a bunch of Gryffindors - and those Gryffindors at that; the only ones worse would be Potter's lot - over his own House is… grating. But staring isn't going to win Theo any favours and might just tick Evans off. Besides, there are plenty of others who have noticed a Slytherin sitting with Gryffindors, and they're staring enough for ten of him.

He starts on his breakfast. School has just begun. There's plenty more time in the future to observe Hadrian Evans.

-0-0-0-

Within the space of a week, Theo is cautiously pleased to find that he shares all nine classes with Evans. The core subjects are mandatory of course, but in addition to Ancient Runes, Evans also takes Arithmancy, both of which Theo is also studying, and after three weeks, he gets a slightly more detailed picture of what Evans is capable of.

In class, Evans doesn't stand out, or at least not in a way most people would notice. He doesn't take the initiative to answer questions posed by the teachers, and his spells and potions aren't particularly dazzling when they're assigned practical classwork.

But every time a professor calls on him, Evans always answers correctly. Every time they have to practice a new spell, Evans doesn't clamour to be the first to show off, and he isn't the one who produces it with the most eye-catching burst of magic, but when he's asked to show his progress, he always does it exactly the way the teacher demonstrated it at the beginning of class. Even in Potions, all he does is work discreetly in the back corner on the Slytherin side of the room. He never finishes early, but he also never finishes late, never failing to turn in a textbook-perfect potion ten minutes before class ends, and a couple times, Theo catches Snape watching Evans with an inscrutable expression after the boy quietly hands in yet another flawless potion.

After three weeks, Theo can conclude that while Evans doesn't deliberately dumb himself down, and in fact is performing spectacularly across the board, he does it in such a reserved, inconspicuous manner that even most of the professors probably aren't going to notice until they've graded a good few months' worth of homework and tests.

He does it for every subject. Every single one, except Ancient Runes, and Theo is convinced that that's less because Evans didn't try, and more that… well, some brilliance just can't be hidden.

In the third week, when Babbling hands back their first assignment - Acceptables and Poors all around of course; some days, Theo isn't sure if he wants to strangle Babbling or himself, just to put himself out of the misery that is attempting to understand anything their Runes professor says - she holds Evans back at the end of class, and half the students snicker like they think he's in trouble or did so badly that even Babbling can't stand it, and it's the best joke they've ever seen. But two days later, some papers that Evans has left out on his desk while he's off doing something else, probably with his Gryffindor buddies, catch Theo's eye while he's on his way to his own desk. More specifically, the symbol of the Department of Magical Education stamped on them catches Theo's eye, and after some very hasty and very undignified neck-straining and squinting from a prudent five feet away, he more or less understands.

Babbling hadn't held Evans back because he was doing badly. Babbling had held him back because he was doing so good he would be sitting his Ancient Runes O.W.L. and N.E.W.T. exams on the twenty-third of October.

Three minutes after that revelation, Theo's still sitting somewhat dazed in his chair when Malfoy returns, Crabbe and Goyle in tow. The blond also spots the papers on Evans' desk and - after suffering day after day of, in Malfoy's increasingly belligerent opinion, being disgraced by Evans due to all the time he was spending with Gryffindors, and even three of the ones Malfoy hates most - practically lights up with a malicious sort of glee at the opportunity to get a little revenge.

He seems to have already forgotten that first night's lesson, and it hasn't even been a month yet. Sometimes, Theo is honestly baffled by Malfoy's Sorting into Slytherin. What ambition is there in a boy whose solution to everything in life is to fall back on his father and surname and family money? What cunning is there to speak of when he so often acts without even considering the option of leaving himself a way out, just in case his taunts and schemes backfire on him one day?

Or perhaps the real mystery is how he's managed to go this long without anyone telling him that the world won't always bend to his demands.

"O.W.L. and N.E.W.T. exams?" Malfoy says loudly as he wanders over to read the papers. He scoffs. "No matter how much magic he has, there's no way that's possible. He's just a fourth-year. And a halfblood! I bet he paid Babbling to sign him up for them. Everybody knows she's not all there so Evans wouldn't even have to pay her a lot to persuade her."

Theo flicks a glance at Blaise, who'd brought up the rear, a few seconds behind Malfoy, and had entered on near-inaudible footsteps in time to witness this latest snowballing disaster. The taller boy's lip curls, and his next words come out in such a nonchalant drawl that it takes a moment for Malfoy to register the bite of them, "Why would he do that though? He's not you."

Malfoy flushes an unflattering shade of red. "Zabini! That's not funny!"

Blaise's insults are always taken as jokes. Theo thinks that's the only way Malfoy can weather them, because he doesn't truly dare to cross Blaise, so even if he does know better, he still has to feign ignorance.

"It can't be possible," Malfoy repeats, turning back to the papers. "Otherwise, why hasn't he said anything about it? If it were me, I'd let everyone know! Obviously, he knows he'll fail, so he doesn't dare to spread it around."

Theo tries to wrap his mind around that logic, fails, and gives it up as a bad job.

"Then, why is he taking them?" Crabbe suddenly pipes up, blinking with a befuddled air in Malfoy's direction.

Malfoy rolls his eyes. "Obviously, Crabbe, it's to impress the Boy Who Lived. You've seen how Evans is constantly fawning over Longbottom." And there's the jealousy leaking into his voice even as it strengthens as if he's gaining confidence in his conjecture the longer he speaks. "He's still just a vulgar halfblood with subpar upbringing after all. He needs political connections if he wants to make anything of himself in our world. And Longbottom's a soft touch, and an idiot besides at everything that isn't digging in the dirt. Just trying to take the exams is probably enough to make him think Evans is a genius."

He takes another step forward, almost hovering over the desk now, childish spite tarnishing his features. "Let's see what the rest of Slytherin thinks of this. We are in the same House so Evans should look for support from real purebloods. I'll help him out."

Malfoy reaches out, and Theo goes still, staring, avid and unblinking.

(Greedy.)

Hadrian Evans does not disappoint him.

Malfoy's hand lands on the papers, and it's as if a miniature explosion takes place. There's no warning as the desk ignites with enough interlocked, interwoven, bloody intricate runes to send anyone reeling. It blankets the entire desk in layers of circles and lines and eye-watering spirals, before even those disappear in a blaze of brilliant silver light that pulses once before bursting outward and knocking Malfoy clean off his feet.

Malfoy screams as he's sent flying across the room in a tangle of flailing limbs and flapping robes. Coincidentally - or not? - he lands on his bed in a graceless upside-down heap, the bag he's still wearing smacks him in the face, and the momentum tumbles him straight over the far side of his bed and onto the floor with a final muffled thump that cuts Malfoy's shriek to a yelp.

The light disappears, along with the runes. The room goes eerily quiet, and for a long moment, nobody moves.

It's Blaise who reacts first.

He laughs.

It's enough to snap Malfoy out of his stupor. The blond scrambles to right himself, pushing to his feet, fury and humiliation writ large across his face as he opens his mouth to shout, "Shut up, Zabini! Wait until my father hears about this! Evans will regret-"

There's a clatter. The door opens.

Malfoy shuts up so fast Theo wouldn't be surprised if he bit his tongue.

Evans steps inside, and then stops. He looks around, looks at his desk, looks at a still dishevelled and increasingly pallid Malfoy, and then he shuts the door behind him and heaves a very deep sigh.

"Seriously?" He asks in rhetorical tones. "I just went to borrow a library book. I couldn't have been gone for more than thirty minutes."

Nobody says anything. Evans sighs again before striding over to his desk. He raises a hand and combs his fingers through the air— or perhaps something only he could see, and that's proven correct as a runic array shimmers into existence, swirling together before reshaping itself into-

-a memory.

Specifically, it's a replay of everything Malfoy had said and done as soon as he'd gotten within three feet of Evans' belongings, complete with sound and colour. It's basically a pensieve without the pensieve or the removal of memories to supply it.

Theo wants so badly that his teeth ache with the leashed desire to ask a million questions immediately.

Patience, he reminds himself.

"Hm," Evans says once the memory's run its course, and the runes wisp away once more. Theo is both surprised and not when the other boy proceeds to pull out his chair, sit down, and dig out his library book, clearly intent to continue his work.

Behind him, Malfoy seethes, and before he can think better of it, or he simply doesn't think, he barks out, "Do you think you can treat me this way, Evans? Do you know who my father is? When I tell him about this-"

"Tell him then," Evans interjects, leaning back to slant a cool look at Malfoy. "Tell him you tried to steal my things, and my wards tossed you onto your bed, and the only thing it really bruised was your ego. Or you can lie and make up something that would make you more of a victim, and big bad mudblood Hadrian Evans bullied you terribly. What's the worst that could happen? Expulsion?" He huffs a laugh, and as far as Theo can tell, the thread of mirth that laces the sound is astonishingly sincere. "Malfoy, I don't actually care. I don't need Hogwarts."

He really doesn't. Worse comes to worst, which other school would be daft enough to not scoop him up if they see what he can do with runes? And that's not even getting into everything else he can do. Any school would accept him in a heartbeat and then laugh themselves to tears if Lucius Malfoy actually managed to get him ejected from Britain's sphere of influence on some trumped up charges just because his son went crying to him. Besides, since Evans had been previously homeschooled, he could always just return to that as well.

Malfoy opens his mouth, then closes it, and he does that a couple times, eyes wide in his face like he's never met anyone who has stonewalled him this way, who has challenged his authority so directly, more than once, and yet remains utterly unintimidated and untouchable.

Evidently, he never has.

Evans regards him for a few seconds more before sighing once more. "I thought I was clear enough that first night, but apparently not. When I say 'attack', I don't just mean with a wand. All my things are off-limits unless I say otherwise, so if I were you, I would keep my hands to myself. You don't want to know what my wards will do to you if they sense intentions worse than just petty theft. I hope you won't forget again."

He holds Malfoy's faltering gaze for a moment longer before turning back to his books and papers. Malfoy stumbles back a step as if he's been physically released, and he looks like he wants to pitch a temper tantrum but also doesn't dare. In the end, he storms out of the room without even straightening his robes or smoothing back his hair, and nobody tries to stop him or go after him, not even Crabbe or Goyle, who've both retreated to their beds, shoulders hunched, almost bowed, angled almost in Evans' direction.

Evans is already poring over his library book though, quill in one hand, inkwell set out, fresh parchment beside it. It's clear he's done interacting with the lot of them.

Theo almost lets it go, as he has every other time he wants to speak to Evans, to ask him questions, to know. He's already biting his tongue and swallowing down the words and opening his bag to fish out his homework.

Except-

It's been three weeks. Theo can be patient when he has to be, but more and more, it's… starting to feel like he doesn't have to be. He's had an entire childhood's worth of practice at dissecting emotions, at looking at a person's face and words and actions and taking all of them into account to figure out how they really feel, if they're angry at him or upset with him, if they're about to lash out even when they're smiling, or if there's still time to appease them even if they look like they're about to go for their wand.

Evans is harder to read than most, but at the very least, Theo can tell that he doesn't get angry often. In fact, there's only ever been that one time, that first night, and even for most of that incident, Evans had only acted to secure his own safety in their dorm once it became clear that Malfoy wasn't going to leave him alone otherwise. None of it had been driven by rage, not even when he'd nearly drowned them in the undertow of his magic over that particular handful of words Malfoy had jeered at him. And ever since then, Evans hasn't done anything except go about his business while ignoring theirs. That went for the rest of Slytherin too, and even some students in other Houses who don't like the fact that he's a Slytherin. Sometimes, they make snide remarks, usually behind his back, sometimes within his hearing range, and to a man, every student in their House has openly shunned him since he went to sit with the Golden Trio that first breakfast, but Evans has never given them a second glance, or really even a first glance, not out of anger or embarrassment or distress, and certainly not out of any desire for them to accept him, which just seems to offend them even more. But Evans is simply… indifferent to it all.

Most importantly, as much as Theo has been able to conclude, Evans isn't prone to violence. He always seems calm and easygoing when he's with the Golden Trio, and quiet the rest of the time. And from the very beginning, he's never done anything to harm any fellow Slytherins, not even Malfoy. Even his wards seem to have some kind of function worked into them that would rate the level of threat first and only respond with the same degree of damage.

Actually, not the same— if Malfoy had been caught taking another Slytherin's documents without permission, important or not, it wouldn't be too much even if they cursed his hands in return. They probably wouldn't, because it's Malfoy, and people are used to being more lenient with him, but normally, even Malfoy wouldn't do something that gauche anyway. No matter how much they've spoiled him, his parents have at least taught him pureblood etiquette. He's never even tried to rifle through Theo's belongings.

Admittedly, Theo had committed a slight faux pas as well when his curiosity had prompted him to read those Ministry forms, even if they were laid out on Evans' desk - unintentionally seeing them in passing was fine but the polite thing to do would've been to keep walking - but at least he hadn't been stupid enough to get too close, let alone put a single finger on them. Malfoy really only has his own poor impulse control to blame for going too far yet again, and Theo has every right to judge him for it.

Although since it was Evans, Malfoy had probably categorized him as someone who doesn't deserve a pureblood's courtesy.

Even then though, Evans hadn't retaliated with anything more than the ward equivalent of a watered down Knockback Jinx, which is basically a common prank amongst rowdier students. Malfoy's pride had - once again - been hurt, but nothing else, even when it would've been Evans' right. And he hadn't gotten angry this time either.

Of course, Theo isn't foolish enough to think Evans isn't capable of violence when he wants to be. If he's pushed far enough, Theo is certain that the other boy could and would inflict some significant damage that would at least end with a visit to the Hospital Wing. Perhaps it was his magic, the relentless weight of it that said it wouldn't hesitate to crush them if they proved themselves a real threat. Or perhaps it was Evans himself, who looks at Malfoy after each stunt like he's putting up with a recalcitrant child that he has to go easy on because said child is too young to know better, except the detachment in his gaze also says that he's weighing Malfoy's age on a scale and waiting for the day his youth will no longer be able to compensate for his actions.

Frankly, Theo hopes that day will come soon. But that's his pettiness talking, and Malfoy in general is none of his concern. What Theo really wants is to learn all those things for himself. Well, not all, he's more than self-aware enough to know he's nowhere near as powerful as Evans, but some of those things - the spellwork, the runes - surely those things can be taught to others even if they don't have incredible amounts of magic? Even if it's slow-going and difficult, Theo isn't afraid to work for it.

So long as he learns even just a little of what Evans knows - and he clearly knows so much, knows the things that can actually be useful in real life - then perhaps, one day, maybe even before he graduates Hogwarts… escaping his father won't be a fool's hope anymore. And if there's a chance that he can do that, then no matter how exorbitant the price Evans names, Theo would be willing to pay it, even if it takes him the rest of his life to honour the debt.

But nothing's going to happen if they're not even on speaking terms. It's been three weeks. Already three weeks. Only three weeks. Maybe it really is still too soon, but at the very least, Theo doesn't think Evans will do anything worse than say no.

At his back, he can feel Blaise's eyes on him, but he doesn't turn around.

"Is that-" His voice doesn't crack, thankfully, but it comes out croakier than normal, giving away his nervousness. He bites back the urge to hex himself and tries again. "Is that taught by the time we graduate?"

Evans… doesn't react, doesn't even look up. For several tense and increasingly awkward seconds, Theo thinks maybe the other boy will just continue ignoring him, or maybe he even thinks Theo is speaking to one of the others, not him.

But then he writes something down and flips a page of his book, and then he raises his head and shifts away from his desk to face Theo.

It's a little daunting, to suddenly have that piercing bright green regard aimed straight at him, but there's also no hostility that Theo can see, and that settles some of his nerves.

Evans looks at him, then frowns, then asks in return, blunt, but amazingly, willingly enough, "You mean the wards?"

Theo nods carefully, making sure he doesn't look too eager or too demanding. Masters of their trades are always rightfully reticent about their knowledge and skills to anyone who isn't their own mentor or apprentice, unless they're a teacher. Evans may not be a master signed and sealed and authorized to practice, but nobody who can write the exams at fourteen can be considered an amateur.

Evans shrugs. "I haven't exactly flipped through the Ancient Runes syllabus of every year so I can't really say. If it continues at the same pace as third-year and fourth-year though, then probably not. You'd maybe get to the point of basic wards, but not much more than that. Compound wards like these-" He raps his knuckles against his own desk. "-put crudely, requires the use of runic coils to weave together multiple basic arrays, on multiple levels, in varying sequential order depending on how multifaceted you want the wards to be. It's not that difficult once you start getting some practice in, but from what I hear, you guys don't even begin practical work until after your O.W.L., which… I don't really get, but maybe Hogwarts is big on theoretical learning. But yeah, at that rate, I don't see how you could be constructing something like this by graduation."

Theo's head is spinning. He didn't understand… anything in that summary except perhaps a general idea of "basic arrays". It's rare for him to feel so stupid.

Evans is still watching him, and he doesn't seem impatient for their exchange to be over, or irritated that it's taking place at all. He looks like he's waiting for Theo to reply, so Theo hurries on to keep the conversation afloat.

"So you didn't learn Runes following the Hogwarts curriculum when you were homeschooled," He surmises. "Does that mean the standards here fall short of the international schools?"

It wouldn't be the first time. Britain's educational requirements have been growing more and more lenient for years. Correspondingly, their elective options have also been reduced to four due to budget cuts and lack of interest in anything harder than petting animals and making up death predictions. Every year, more second-years choose to sign up for Care and Divination than they do Arithmancy or Runes. It's one reason why the number of incoming students has been gradually declining and consists of more muggleborns than purebloods. Foreign schools are strict about accepting any children outside of their designated countries, but those in Great Britain and Ireland who want better for their kids and can afford the higher prices tend to prefer sending them to one international school or another instead of Hogwarts.

But Evans shakes his head. "I wouldn't know that either. I didn't really follow any official curriculum when I was learning." He pauses a beat, like he's thinking about how much to reveal, or even why he's revealing anything, but then he seems to decide it doesn't much matter. "The person who taught me was a bit… unconventional about it. He was a very good teacher, but he wasn't actually a teacher with the degree and whatever else you need to be a Ministry-approved professor, so he didn't really care about following some checklist of what a student attending a magical school was supposed to learn. Plus he was kind of a genius at runes. Ward-cracking and disassembly in particular since that's what he majored in - he was a Curse-Breaker - but he was pretty good at almost everything else too, which meant he found the basic stuff pretty boring. So when he taught me, and he realized I didn't have any trouble getting the foundations down, and I could mostly keep up even when he skipped ahead to more advanced stuff, he basically ended up just jumping between the subjects he liked most, filled in any gaps along the way, and gave me free rein to research whatever I found interesting. And whatever topic I picked was the one he lectured on, or helped me look up if it was one of the few areas he didn't know much about."

His expression turns wry, if only for a moment. "Apparently though, according to Babbling, that means there's nothing left for Hogwarts to teach me. But I don't know how I would compare to students in other schools."

He finishes and falls silent. It's the most he's said since that first night, and it's clear as day that whoever this Curse-Breaker tutor was, Evans respects him a great deal, great enough to ramble on about him to a roomful of near-strangers, and considering what he'd had a hand in molding Evans into, he deserves every bit of that respect too.

Theo envies it. He is oft a creature of envy, and it hollows him out a little more every time it rears its head, but he's resigned to it. He wonders why Hogwarts can't have a teacher like Evans' instead of the whimsical mess that is Babbling, who can never get through a single class without her train of thought wandering away like an untrained dog off its leash.

"Then," Theo continues, carefully neutral, carefully watching for any signs of displeasure on Evans' face. "Once you pass your exams, will you simply have an extra study period slot? Or will you be required to attend another elective?"

Evans blinks at him. "The first, I think. I might see if it's possible to take an owl-distance university course or something, but spare time in my day isn't bad either."

"Then," Theo forges on, watching as Evans's mouth twists a little, like he knows that this is what Theo has been aiming for from the beginning. Theo can't tell if he disapproves though - he doesn't think so - and it's too late to divert his course anyway. "What do you think about tutoring?"

Evans cocks an eyebrow. He doesn't say anything for several anxiety-inducing seconds, just scrutinizing Theo with a face blank enough to rival Snape's when he bothers to stop sneering. The quill in Evans' hand taps-taps-taps against his desk before the boy swings around in his chair completely to face Theo.

"Tutoring," He repeats. "You want me to tutor you in Ancient Runes?"

And at least he doesn't sound derisive, nor does he put any particular emphasis on any part of that question. It does make it harder for Theo to gauge how he should respond though.

"Yes," He confirms, because straightforward seems to be what Evans prefers. He thinks, briefly, of including Blaise, but he doesn't actually know if Blaise would like tutoring as well, and even if he does, Blaise can ask for himself. Theo isn't that charitable, and Blaise might even take offense if he tries to be.

"I can compensate you for your time," He adds, because he's poor by pureblood standards, but not so poor that he can't afford decent education, especially with the nest egg he's been secretly building on the side since he turned eight and realized his inheritance was only going to get smaller at the rate his father was drawing from it for his… extracurriculars. His seven years at Hogwarts at least have already been paid for, robes and supplies and even some pocket money included, because even Silas Nott isn't going to let his son go into public at even more of a disadvantage than he already is. So as long as Evans doesn't ask for a huge sum of money, or even if he does, and he's willing to take part of that payment in favours, then Theo should have enough from his own funds to cover the cost.

Evans leans back in his seat and doesn't say anything about payment. Instead, he looks almost puzzled as he asks, "Why do you need tutoring though? Even if you want to learn stuff like this," He motions at his desk. "I wouldn't be able to even start teaching you how until you got at least the basics down, and that's what Hogwarts teaches, so is there any point in getting more of the same lessons from me?"

For a moment, even Theo can't come up with a way to say 'yes, because Babbling can't teach worth a damn, and I don't actually know how I passed last year but I definitely won't this year with the way her lectures keep getting lost somewhere between class and Atlantis every bloody week' but in more polite terms, if only because Evans might not appreciate anyone badmouthing her since she's obviously the one vouching for Evans' qualifications in order to let him take his exams so early.

Fortunately, Blaise has no such compunctions.

"Have you seen the way Babbling teaches?" The other boy enquires in his usual lackadaisical tone, just aggrieved enough to sound invested, but mild enough to leech the provocation out of it. It also gives Blaise a foot in through the door, drawing Evans' attention to him without making it seem as if he's interrupting.

Theo glances behind him at where Blaise is now lounging in his own desk chair, emptying his bag of textbooks and papers even as he glances over to meet Evans' gaze, and his expression has eased into an invitation to commiserate over Babbling's questionable teaching methods. All of it is designed to look casual and cordial, to keep this fragile first exchange lighthearted, if also full of a resigned sort of exasperation, funnelled together in order to lower Evans' guard.

And it seems to work too, like it does with everyone Blaise turns his charms on. At the very least, the way Evans' mouth quirks in response looks reflexive enough to be genuine.

"That's fair," Evans concedes, a wry sort of humour suffusing his voice. "She's not the best at… staying on topic."

Theo has to suppress a snort, but something of it must show on his face anyway because Evans' eyes snap back to him, and a moment later, a quicksilver grin flits across the other's face, bright in a way that lights up his whole face, and perhaps Blaise will have to try harder after all because Theo realizes that this is what genuine looks like on Evans.

"Okay, I get why you might want a tutor," Evans acknowledges. "But isn't there anyone better for that?"

Theo blinks at him. "Better than someone who's ready to take his exams in a month?"

Evans' eyebrows go up briefly, and something in his eyes sharpens. "No. Better than someone who's a halfblood orphan in Slytherin, stuck in a one-sided grudge-match with a pureblood brat who has all the maturity of a toddler and isn't going to be very happy if his friend starts hanging around the guy he wants to curse into the Hospital Wing."

Orphan? is Theo's first thought, followed by, I wish Malfoy was around to hear that. But all of it is superseded by a defiance that bursts out of him before he can curb it, "We're not friends."

Evans waves a hand. "Yeah, yeah, I know, Slytherins don't have friends. What I mean is-"

"No," Theo says, wincing internally at how he'd cut Evans off mid-sentence. "I mean, we aren't friends. Normally, we aren't even civil acquaintances most days."

Evans eyes him for a long moment like he can hear all the things Theo isn't saying. Theo's pretty sure Evans doesn't know about his family's circumstances - How would he? Why would he even care to look it up? - but he seems to be able to glean at least the gist of it in a single glance because he seems to accept it easily enough, and the next thing he says is, "Alright, but that doesn't change the fact that he's still not going to be happy about it."

"Good," Theo says, once again before he can stop himself, and with more relish than he should convey. Even if he's often thought that anything that made Malfoy unhappy was a good thing, he's certainly never expressed it out loud. He doesn't know what's come over him, only that there's something about the way Evans is watching him, patient and without judgement, that makes him… bolder than he normally would be.

And since he's already opened his mouth, he might as well keep going.

"So long as you're willing, I don't mind what other people might say," Theo says as firmly as he knows how to be. "I need to raise my grades for Ancient Runes before I take my OWLs next year or I'm never going to pass. I would appreciate any tutoring you can spare the time for." He hesitates, but only for a beat. "If you want, in addition to monetary compensation, I can also snub Malfoy at dinner somehow. And you would know it wouldn't just be some show we put on either. Malfoy doesn't have it in him to be humiliated in public, even as a stunt."

It's far more outspoken and far more audacious than Theo is accustomed to being, and he can feel Blaise's eyes on him again. But he gets the impression that if he doesn't put his cards on the table - that he really does want to learn from Evans, that it's his main motivation, even if it isn't the only one - then Evans might think Theo is playing some kind of trick on him, possibly on Malfoy's orders, and that's the last thing Theo wants him to believe.

Besides, this is also an opportunity. Theo had been resigned to living under Malfoy's temperamental rule for the duration of his Hogwarts career. It wasn't as if he wouldn't be doing more of the same as an adult, after all. Considering the difference in their social status, Theo would still have to bow his head, and jump when told to jump, and remain courteously - or at least forbearingly - deferential in front of Malfoy whenever they see each other. At least this more childish version at school is giving him plenty of practice for the future.

But now, there is Hadrian Evans, whose existence no one had expected and no one thus far can control, who isn't afraid of Malfoy, whom Malfoy is afraid of instead, and Theo honestly can't see that changing. Of course, the real world is very different from some squabbles between teenagers, and Theo has only known Evans for less than a month. But… call it instinct. Even if one day the Malfoy family can really make it so that Evans can no longer live well in Britain, Theo gets the sense that the other boy would rather up and move to a different country than ever submit to anyone.

People with inborn power like Evans won't bow. They don't know how to.

And if Theo can get even a fraction of that protection that openly siding with Evans might earn him, then the choice is obvious. He's long known that he isn't powerful enough or ambitious enough or even brave enough to stand on his own. That in order to thrive, or even to simply live a satisfactory life, it would be best to choose someone's shadow to settle in. Preferably, that someone would be willing enough to leave Theo alone most of the time and wouldn't ask too much of him, but he already knows he wouldn't be able to get that from his father or Malfoy.

Then, there's no point clinging to either of them. Before, there had been no other choices, and between his father and Malfoy, Malfoy was the better bet, though it wasn't as if the blond ponce could've gotten him out from under Silas Nott's thumb either. But at least being - loosely - affiliated with Malfoy would, in the future, offer Theo some protection from his father's obsessive tendencies. It wouldn't do for one of Malfoy's circle of acquaintances to disappear under mysterious circumstances after all.

Now there's a new player on the field. Of course, Evans probably doesn't see himself as one, and wouldn't care even if he knew. But that doesn't change the fact that his shadow casts a long and looming line, and somehow, it feels more like a refuge than anyone else's Theo has ever come across. Evans might not be willing to protect him, if only because he would have to make himself known to do so, and if there's one thing Evans has shown over the past few weeks, it's that he much prefers staying in the background. But even if he isn't willing to protect Theo, at the very least, he can teach Theo how to protect himself. So, Theo might as well take his chances with Evans, and the first step in doing that is to make it very clear to all and sundry that he's throwing his lot in with the halfblood Slytherin transfer.

He hadn't quite been prepared to go this far when he'd first decided to speak to Evans today, but doing things by half measures doesn't bode well for him either. Prevaricating or at least being vaguer about his intentions might leave him an extra hand to play, a way to retreat in case associating with Evans becomes too dangerous one day, but no one likes a fence-sitter.

In Slytherin, every decision is a power play, whether it seems like it or not. An insignificant word or action might result in large consequences that aren't always obvious until the waves and ripples have settled. And Theo's never been much of a gambler, preferring safety over potential riches. But the things he can learn from Evans are too tempting to pass over. Put in plain terms, he's technically using Evans as a means to an end, which no one in Slytherin wouldn't approve of, but for a good chunk of this House, Evans' blood would definitely outweigh any usefulness he might have, especially since he hasn't publicly proven himself in any way at all. And the way he spends all his free time with Gryffindors hardly helps.

Still, it's a risk Theo's willing to take. And now the Quaffle is in Evans' hands, and all that's left is to wait for his answer.

Of course, if Evans says no, then Theo can only hope Blaise is feeling magnanimous today and won't go spreading this little story around. Then again, there's Crabbe and Goyle too, and they'll definitely tell Malfoy, so it will get out either way.

Such is Slytherin, where the only shared secret you can trust to remain a secret is when all other parties are dead.

In front of him, Evans only raises his eyebrows for a moment before amusement quirks one corner of his mouth. "Well you don't have to go that far."

Theo can't tell if the other boy understands the implications of publicly cutting ties with Malfoy, but he's relieved to hear it anyway. He'd do it if it's a condition Evans sets, if only to alleviate any concerns Evans might have of being played, but it's not as if he wants to do it. He would happily see Malfoy humiliated any day of the week, but Theo is at heart an introverted person. Open confrontation of any kind will always make him uncomfortable.

Evans studies him for a while longer as if weighing his sincerity. Eventually, he says, "I'm not opposed to tutoring. Actually, I'm already doing that for Hermione every Wednesday and Saturday. Adding one more doesn't make much of a difference. It's just that I don't love tutoring so much that I want to do it more than twice a week. So," He smiles, and this time, his expression is one of a sharp sort of curiosity. "If you want me to tutor you, then you'll have to be okay with Hermione. And I don't just mean tolerating her presence enough to sit at the same table as her. I mean if you say one bad word about her blood, I'll take that as an attack on me and react accordingly. Understand?"

Theo blinks once, twice, digesting that ultimatum with something like disbelief because- "Is that all?" And then, because it couldn't possibly be that easy, he hastily tacks on, "How much would you like to be paid?"

Evans blinks back at him, looking like he's re-evaluating Theo on the spot. Then he makes a dismissive gesture and says, "I'm not short on money. Also I don't make Hermione pay so it wouldn't be fair if I made you pay." He sits back with a finality that starts bringing an end to their conversation. "Wednesdays and Saturdays, 4-6pm in the library. I know we share all the same classes so that shouldn't be a problem for you. Showing up isn't mandatory, you can just come whenever you want, and I'll tutor you in whatever you need help with. My only condition is that you treat Hermione with basic respect. Of course," His mouth twists into a strange smile. "That goes for her too. And her friends if they happen to stop by."

Theo has to suppress a grimace at that, but it's mostly out of reflexive distaste. Even if Weasley starts flinging insults, he's sure he's heard worse than anything a Gryffindor could come up with, and his tolerance is high, so it doesn't much matter whether Evans can prevent it or not. Actually, it's already pretty novel that he would try at all. This is by far the easiest and weirdest deal Theo has ever been offered, which only makes him that much more suspicious, but Evans also adds no other terms, so Theo is forced to conclude that this really is all Evans wants from him.

The sheer unfairness of what each party is bringing to the table is jarring. Does Evans not understand what's happening here or is he seriously willing to offer up his time and knowledge on a silver platter at basically no cost?

Part of Theo wants to ask again, to make sure Evans really doesn't want anything else, but since they've come to this point, even if Evans were to ask for something in the future, Theo would have no obligation to give it. It's admittedly somewhat uncomfortable, to receive so much in exchange for giving back so little when he wasn't even the one manipulating Evans towards this outcome, but at the same time, wouldn't he just be stupid if he keeps pushing the issue? Complaining about not having to spend any money or owe any favours seems rather counterproductive, and even though Theo is willing to pay for a chance like this, that doesn't mean he wants to if he doesn't have to. Of course, he supposes it isn't very honourable of him to not at least insist on some form of compensation, but that's why Theo isn't a Gryffindor.

So then.

"Very well, I agree to your terms," Theo says, letting himself relax a bit more when Evans' expression doesn't change. And because even a Slytherin should acknowledge genuine goodwill, he shoves past his own discomfort and manages, if a bit stiffly, "Thank you, Evans."

Evans makes a face that's something left of embarrassed. "It's just tutoring, you don't have to be so formal. Besides, you're still the one who's going to have to put up with Malfoy pitching a fit once he finds out."

Theo almost shrugs. That's not anything new. He might have to field some curses hurled his way once other Slytherins realize he's no longer under Malfoy's "protection" and is seen spending time with a halfblood, but it's not as if he has no way of protecting himself from most spells that a student can get away with using in public at Hogwarts. He already has a few family wards set up around his bed too, so Malfoy can't get to him while he's asleep, and the only time he spends in the Common Room is when he's crossing it to leave the Dungeon or return to his dorm, so his Housemates aren't likely to be able to corner him there either. So long as he's careful, he'll be fine.

Blaise's voice cuts into his thoughts, speaking this time with the lightest touch of concern seeping out from behind a thin veil of indifference that would've fooled even Theo if Theo didn't know the way Blaise can change his approach like he's changing clothes depending on his assessment of the person he's talking to. "You sure you don't need to ask Granger first before letting a Slytherin join your tutoring sessions? She might not be too happy to have Theo there. And her friends definitely won't."

Evans' attention shifts again, and as with Theo, his gaze is neither friendly nor hostile, but it's different all the same in a way Theo can't quite name. "Is that my problem?"

The room is quiet for a beat.

Evans smiles, careless, casual. "I'm the one doing the teaching. Who I teach should be up to me, shouldn't it?"

Blaise stares, unblinking, hands finally gone still. "Aren't those Gryffindors your friends though?"

"Sure," Evans agrees. "Still doesn't mean they get to tell me what to do just because they're biased against Slytherins." He shakes his head. "I doubt it'll be much of a problem though. Like you said, they're my friends, and aren't I a Slytherin too?"

Nobody says what Theo is certain they're all thinking— that in many ways, Evans isn't anything like your average Slytherin.

(And in others, Evans is the very epitome of one, but the Golden Trio probably doesn't know that, do they?)

"Are you saying other Slytherins are welcome in your tutoring sessions then?" Blaise says next, and it's the most straightforward Theo has ever seen him, skipping at least three prevarications and five backhanded compliments that Theo could've sworn Blaise would normally include just because he doesn't know any other way to speak. Apparently not.

Except Evans' response is to huff a breath that sounds like laughter, except not in any way they've heard before, not as amicable, and Theo sees Blaise's smile grow a little fixed.

If they were in the business of distributing vices, then excessive hubris would undoubtedly go to Malfoy, but only because Blaise doesn't have the same reckless self-defeating habit of flaunting what he has everywhere and retaliating like a rabid lapdog the moment he feels slighted, the latter of which is helped along by the fact that he doesn't hold many people in high enough esteem for them to offend him. After all, you wouldn't get mad if a ghost or a goblin or even a house-elf - as unlikely as that is - is rude to you, would you? At most, you'd punish the latter and move along with your day. And for those who do register enough as people in Blaise's eyes, well, Blaise far prefers retaliating when the other party least expects it.

It's the same now, in the way Blaise blinks twice rapidly but doesn't otherwise react. Of course, since this is Evans, he won't be able to retaliate later either, not with any kind of success, so it's doubly impressive that the other boy manages to keep his pride nailed down and tucked away.

"You know," Evans says lazily, mirth or perhaps mockery gleaming in his eyes. "You could just ask. Take a leaf out of Theo's book; it wastes less time."

Because even Blaise's straightforwardness needs to take a stroll or two around the block first, and apparently, Evans had caught onto that possibly since the first time Blaise had opened his mouth since this conversation began.

Blaise's lips thin, but after a moment of no doubt weighing the pros and cons, he shrugs gracefully like it doesn't sting and asks, "Then, may I join your tutoring sessions, Evans? I would also appreciate some assistance with my Ancient Runes studies. Of course, I will abide by the terms you've set as well."

Theo listens and wonders just how much self-control those three sentences took. Before today, he hadn't even known Blaise was capable of it, and the fact that he is, for this, actually says a lot more about his regard for Evans than Theo had realized even just a minute ago.

At least Evans doesn't make it harder for Blaise than that.

"Sure," The other boy acquiesces with the air of a predator sitting back on its haunches. "On your own head though."

At this, a trace of a smirk - his real one, beatific in its cruelty, instead of his regular fit-for-public one - cuts across Blaise's face for the span of a heartbeat. "No problem."

Evans levels another long look at him before shaking his head with another twist of a smile. "Okay then. We're all good now?" He looks from Blaise to Theo and even spares half a glance in Crabbe and Goyle's direction before nodding, satisfied. "Fantastic. Back to work for me."

He spins back around to face his desk, reaching for his quill, and the rest of the day passes as usual, without another word traded between them, even when they all get up for dinner. Malfoy comes back shortly before that, stalking over to his section of the dorm with the mulish single-minded intensity of someone unwilling to even acknowledge Evans' existence, although that probably won't last once he finds out what Theo and Blaise have agreed to.

Later, in private, Theo remarks to Blaise, "I didn't expect you to care so much about your Ancient Runes grades."

Blaise slants an indecipherable look at him even as a shallow smile stretches the width of his mouth. "Who wouldn't care about their grades when someone's offering to help raise them for free?"

It's a rhetorical question and answers approximately nothing, but Theo wasn't expecting anything of substance anyway.

Besides, when it comes down to it, he supposes it's not so surprising that Blaise can also see which way the wind is blowing, hard enough to tell anyone with decent enough instincts that a major shift in power is imminent.

And no one likes a fence-sitter.

-0-0-0-

Hadrian would like it to be known that he isn't quite sure how he's gotten to this point in his life.

Well, that's a lie, he sort of knows, or at least he can pinpoint all the decisions that got him from Point A to Point B, but he supposes he just wasn't expecting a couple Slytherins whom he'd always assumed - even back in his original world - were just Malfoy's lackeys in school, to commit, and commit hard. They hadn't even participated in the war on either side, as far as he was aware— Nott had died relatively early on under mysterious circumstances, and Zabini had by all accounts returned to his home country. To Hadrian, they'd been little more than faces in the background that he'd never even exchanged five words with in total before coming to this world.

But within the first week after they've asked to join his tutoring sessions, Nott and Zabini - Slytherin/Pureblood Rule Number Who-Knows-What: you can't use someone else's first name until you're invited to - make it really fucking obvious who they're… supporting? Have sided with? Because Slytherin is a nest of brewing factions and shifting alliances and political doublespeak and even a couple blood feuds, and this is precisely why Hadrian doesn't want anything to do with this House.

Except apparently, agreeing to tutor Nott and Zabini means he's… joined the power struggle? Formed his own faction? Decided to vie for in-House supremacy and possible world domination? Who knows because Hadrian sure doesn't, and he's determined not to know, because surely if he just continues doing his own thing, it'll become clear sooner or later to all and sundry that he has no interest in fighting a bunch of schoolchildren over whatever they think he wants to fight for.

It's just that he can't quite do that either, because not even three weeks after Nott and Zabini start joining him in the library every Wednesday and Saturday with a wary but accepting Hermione, something that translates to them moving their seats to sit with him in class and - when they can make it look natural, if still deliberate - walking with him in the hallways, the displeasure and animosity in Slytherin House reaches breaking point.

It's not as if Hadrian hasn't already been the target of multiple hexes and curses from his own Housemates. He's a halfblood who hangs out with Gryffindors— it's to be expected. But so far, the spells have always been in the realm of reasonable, ones that might make him trip down the stairs or rip his bag or screw up his potion, and he's been able to block or avoid them all, so he'd figured it wasn't that big a deal. He'd put the fear of a Horntail in Malfoy early on because he has to live with the berk, and he doesn't much feel like returning after a long day of classes just to have to butt heads with him every single time. But he basically has no intersections with the rest of the House, so he just hasn't bothered paying attention to any of them.

Then, perhaps rather suddenly, Nott and Zabini are there, not so much orbiting him as they do hover from afar. But they join his tutoring sessions, and they're serious about learning from him, listening earnestly and asking questions and even checking out the books he recommends they read if they have time. There are holes in even the most simple of their fundamental knowledge of Runes - Babbling, read a how-to book on teaching for Merlin's sake - so Hadrian has to more or less start from the ground up, as he had with Hermione, but both of them quickly prove themselves more than intelligent enough to keep up, and they're startling enthusiastic - by Slytherin standards - about everything he teaches them. Nott is more obvious - more ravenous - about it, but even Zabini - who likes to pretend he's only there for the novelty of it or something and therefore tends to play up a laidback sort of indifference - never fails to complete the optional exercises Hadrian writes up for them once a week.

And outside of the tutoring sessions, it's like they've decided that being tutored by him means that he's now their new Malfoy or something. Not that Malfoy was their Malfoy before, if Hadrian had understood Nott correctly, but they'd at least acted like they were part of Malfoy's groupies. Now they've done a one-eighty, and it's not as if they follow him around all the time the way Crabbe and Goyle do with Malfoy, honestly if you don't count classroom and dorm room, they're not even around him half the time, especially Zabini, but when they are around, when they move their cauldrons next to his in Potions class despite working separately, when they go down to breakfast with him despite splitting off at the entrance, when they trail behind him back to the Slytherin Dungeon after a tutoring session, they're so damn conspicuous about it that they might as well be waving neon-bright signs above their heads.

In contrast, they don't even sit next Malfoy during mealtimes anymore, much to the blond's increasing red-faced ire that vaguely resembles a Silenced teakettle on the brink of boiling over. But now they sit at the end of the Slytherin table, which Hadrian has gradually gathered that that's not a good thing, but he doesn't know how to fix it either, and neither Nott nor Zabini seems to mind.

They also talk to him now, not often, not just in private, and not just about Runes, although that does still take up the majority of their conversation topics, if only because they don't know each other that well yet. But in their dorm or in class or in the library or in the halls, sometimes, Nott would say something completely normal, like whether or not he owns an owl or if he's noticed Snape's increasingly intent attention on him or if he's found the secret passageway connecting the Dungeons to the sixth floor yet because climbing six flights of moving stairs isn't what anyone would call a good time. Zabini on the other hand prefers sharing obscure gossip that even most of Slytherin isn't aware of, sordid little secrets like whose parent has a mistress (or three) on the side that will very likely cause an inheritance problem down the road, who killed a cousin over the summer due to jealousy but has done a decent enough job of covering it up as an accident because said cousin had been the heir apparent, and even who had to go to Pomfrey for an Abortion Charm just last week but will likely have to break her betrothal contract - and consequently have her magic bound, as per the terms of said contract - in the future anyway because there's no hiding the loss of her virginity from the olde family magicks no matter how frantically she searches for a way.

To the former, Hadrian responds the way he would if Neville or Ron or Hermione were to ask him similar questions. To the latter, he says, "You have serious issues, Zabini."

Nott never smiles, but his body language is a little less closed off and his eyes look a little less hunted with every random conversation they have. Zabini is almost always smiling, and in response to Hadrian's incredulity, he only laughs like it's the grandest joke he's ever heard.

They grow on him, is the thing. One's probably abused at home, and the other is honestly half a psychopath already, and Hadrian shouldn't care but he's always had a bit of a soft spot for broken people, people who don't quite fit in no matter how well they fake it, people who remind him of himself. And the war he'd survived had only served to destroy what little compunctions he'd ever had about getting too close to dangerous things.

So they grow on him, day by day, and half a month in, the other Slytherins apparently can't handle it anymore.

Hadrian's just coming back from dinner. Nott and Zabini are with him, having joined him once he'd bid Neville, Ron, and Hermione goodnight. They're halfway across the common room when Hadrian catches movement in his peripheral, and he has half a second to decide what to do, to abort the reflex to go for his wand, to cancel the shield ward sparking at his fingertips, to pivot around on the spot and abruptly swing himself right into Nott's personal space, which means Nott immediately puts on the brakes, and - behind him - Zabini has to do the same.

Hadrian senses more than feels the curse that grazes the back of his robes and splashes against the far wall between a pair of suspiciously empty armchairs in an area that's normally a popular hangout spot. There's no sound, but out of the corner of his eye, he sees the way it oozes a sickly viscous purple that puddles to the ground and eats straight through the carpet before finally evaporating into nothing.

He doesn't turn his head, doesn't challenge anyone into a duel the way his hands are itching to do. Instead, even before the spell disappears, he's already asking, "Did you copy down the Potions assignment from today? I just remembered I forgot."

In front of him, Nott's turned three shades whiter, and he's already pale-skinned to begin with, so he obviously recognizes the spell. Zabini clearly does as well if the way he's gone gargoyle-still is anything to go by.

If they'd continued walking, that curse would've hit Nott right in the ribcage. His left ribcage.

A beat of silence passes. Then Nott takes a breath and answers in a voice that doesn't waver but is even more inflectionless than usual. "Yes, I wrote it down. I can show you."

"Cool, thanks, let's go."

Nobody else speaks, nobody even moves, as Hadrian leads the way back to their dorm.

Malfoy, Crabbe, and Goyle aren't back yet so they have the room to themselves. As soon as the door is shut, Nott almost slumps onto his bed, hands shaking. Zabini pulls out his chair to sit, a smile hooked at one corner of his mouth, but absolutely nothing about the rest of him says amusement.

(Slytherins don't have friends, and Zabini doesn't seem to know how to have friends, but Nott's probably the closest to one that his disposition will ever allow.)

Hadrian looks from Nott to Zabini and back, and then he asks, "Who was that boy? The one surrounded by that group by the fireplace."

The one who'd fired the spell. Don't think just because a bunch of students were arranged in front of him that Hadrian had missed the way his arm had moved, the jab of a wand, the blossom of light at its tip before the curse had flown across the room. Did they think he was blind?

Nott blinks up at him, features still pinched. It's Zabini who answers, soft as silk, "Malcolm Avery, seventh-year."

Hadrian takes a moment to digest that, to press that face into his memory before filing it away for later. He focuses on his roommates again instead and presses on, "Has this sort of thing happened before?"

Because even if they're spending time with him, Nott's an old pureblood name, isn't it? And Zabini is Zabini, and everybody's heard of his mother. Even if they're shunned a bit, jeered at a bit, even hexed a bit, any serious assaults should only be aimed at Hadrian, right?

Well, apparently not. That curse earlier had been a much Darker cousin of the Bone-Vanishing Spell, a variation on the more public-friendly Bone-Breaking Curse. If Hadrian hadn't seen it coming, if he hadn't stopped Nott in time, that thing would've not only shattered the left half of Nott's ribcage but also stabbed the resulting fragments directly into the nearest organs before dissolving into the bloodstream as a lethal poison— in this case, it would've been the heart and a lung. Nott would've been dead in under a minute, drowning in his own blood in extreme pain, and it's a tossup if even Hadrian would've been able to save him.

Zabini - unsurprisingly - shakes his head. For all that he doesn't have an old bloodline to rooted in Britain, he still has enough family clout to grant him a strong backing. And that's not counting his own means of protecting himself. Hadrian had actually gotten the feeling very early on, from the moment they'd had their first conversation, and he'd only been proven right as they'd gotten to know each other a little better— Zabini has all the best traits of a quintessential Slytherin. And thereby also all of the worst. Magic-wise, Hadrian can overpower him in a second, but that's why Zabini knows not to make an enemy of him, knows how to bend and stretch and profit while he's at it. He doesn't need anyone to protect him.

Nott on the other hand doesn't reply right away, and when he does, it's an evasive, "Spells like that would be an instant expulsion from Hogwarts, especially coming from a Slytherin, and from a seventh-year, they'd go straight to Azkaban. There are portraits all over the school. I'm not stupid enough to wander into places where there aren't any."

Hadrian aims a flat look at him. "That's not what I asked."

Nott purses his lips and stares at his lap. Hadrian waits him out.

"…They've tried cornering me," Nott finally admits, grudgingly, almost resentfully. "There's no avoiding a couple areas with no portraits. But they never used a curse this Dark before, and I've always been able to slip away."

Hadrian swallows the first three things he wants to say, to shout, because at his core, he likes to think he has a long fuse, but when someone crosses his line in the sand, his temper has always been explosive and violent, which won't help here.

Besides, hadn't he more or less told these two to handle the consequences of letting him tutor them on their own? Even if they weren't Slytherins and actually had the mind to reach out for help, they probably wouldn't have come to him after what he'd said, so he has no one to blame but himself and the fact that he'd underestimated just how deep some Slytherins' senseless hatred runs.

So he breathes through his first instinct, his second, his third, and then he pushes off the desk he'd been leaning on in favour of pulling out parchment and ink and the appropriate books.

"Alright, come here," He beckons, spreading everything out on his desk. "I'm gonna teach you a Fourfold Rebounder Ward so you can wear it on you from now on. The variation I'm thinking of has a chameleon element, so it'll be both strong enough to deflect a curse on the level of the one from earlier and also camouflage it when it's bounced back at whoever attacked you. It's based off of intent too, so it won't act up in a scuffle or a practice duel or something, the other person has to really want to harm you with deadly intent, so keep your guard up for other stuff, and honestly, this should just be for emergencies, you should still try to dodge it because it's not good to grow overly dependent on stuff like this. I'm confident the runes won't fail when I'm the one making it but your reflexes will get rusty if you get lazy. It's a bit- okay, a lot more difficult than anything you're learning right now, but I'll do most of the work, you just watch and provide the magic at the end, and once your foundation is a bit more stable and we can move ahead to more interesting things, I'll come back to this first so you'll be able to learn how to do this yourselves one day."

A long silence follows. Hadrian looks up. Neither of his roommates has moved. "What's wrong?"

Another few seconds tick by. It's Zabini who gets up first, an odd smile on his face, one that Hadrian's never seen before. But all he says is, "Nothing's wrong. I was just hoping if we waited a bit, Malfoy will get back in time to see what we're doing and finally keel over from high blood pressure."

Hadrian snorts with laughter. "Get over here. If that really happened, we'd be the ones who'd have to waste time carrying him up to the Hospital Wing."

Zabini's expression says that that wouldn't be his problem but he only smirks and saunters over to Hadrian's desk with his chair. When they both turn to look, Nott is already on his feet as well. He doesn't say anything, but he looks steadier, and he's watching Hadrian with a strange gleam in his eyes that makes them look almost feverish.

They settle down around him, eager - by Slytherin standards - to learn in a way that reminds Hadrian exactly why he likes to teach.

He gets to work, explaining each step even though he knows most of it is going over their heads. That's fine though; for now, these wards just need to protect them properly, and in the future, he'll teach them how to protect themselves.

-0-

Of course, things aren't over just like that, because Hadrian's temper is an explosive and violent beast, and the only things that's changed from when he was still a teenager is the fact that he's gotten a lot sneakier about it as an adult.

They aren't friends. But Nott and Zabini are his roommates and his students and kids that he's starting to genuinely care about, and nobody gets to walk away scot-free after fucking with the people under Hadrian's care so long as he's still alive to do something about it.

Malcolm Avery is seventeen anyway. That's an adult by any magical community's measure, which means Hadrian doesn't have to hold back.

It takes a week. A week of slipping out after curfew and eavesdropping on conversations, of finding out what the seventh-year's next practical Potions class will be working on and scanning all of Avery's belongings to see what Dark spells he's been mucking about with, and finally of filching Avery's cauldron for an afternoon while he's in class and replacing it before he returns to his dorm.

When it happens, Hadrian isn't even in school. Even if he were, it wouldn't matter because he'd made sure to time everything just right, and all the fourth-years - and most of the rest of the student body too - are already in the Great Hall waiting for lunch to be served. Seventh-year Potions is in the morning block, and Avery always goes overtime when there's a practical.

Hadrian isn't even in school, sitting his Ancient Runes exams at the Ministry all day instead, but he certainly hears all about it when he gets back that evening.

A few minutes before noon, a silver doe Patronus comes bounding up from the dungeons with an urgent summons for Pomfrey, Dumbledore, and McGonagall. Nobody hears what is said, but the three staff members rush off even as the food begins to appear, and nobody hears from them again until half an hour later when whispers start going around about Healers from St. Mungo's being called and one Malcolm Avery being carried out the front doors on a stretcher because his condition is too unstable to be transported through the Floo. The professors don't really tell them anything except that there was a Potions accident, but - as these things do because the rumour mill at Hogwarts is healthier than ever, and there'd still been a few other seventh-years in class with Avery at the time - everyone more or less knows what happened anyway by the time afternoon classes start. Potions is cancelled for the rest of the day, because no one else was injured but Snape was too busy furiously documenting what had happened after running multiple diagnostic spells over the remains of Avery's cauldron to teach. Also, he has to submit said documentation and a Pensieve memory to the Aurors investigating the accident, which doesn't exactly say great things about his mood, so nobody's unhappy about being able to give Potions a miss.

Apparently, Avery had been using his cauldron to make other potions - banned potions - in his dorm room. His roommates had been willing enough to keep mum and even give him a hand, and the book he'd been learning from had been found in his trunk. Thankfully, he hadn't managed to make anything too terrible yet, and his failed attempts hadn't managed to kill anyone, but he also hadn't cleaned his cauldron properly, and so there'd been a mess of residue potion and Dark magic clinging to the metal. Coincidentally, it had ended up reacting quite badly to the potion that the seventh-years were to work on that day, and the end result was a magnificent explosion that Snape had barely managed to protect himself and the other students from in the nick of time. There'd been no helping Avery who'd been standing right next to the unholy concoction.

In the aftermath, the explosion had caused bad enough burns to disfigure Avery, but time and Healers would fix most if not all of that. Far more serious had been the potion damage to his body— the liquid had seeped right through his skin and disintegrated the majority of his left ribcage, and then it had gone on to chew even further, straight into his heart and left lung, an insidious venom that had dissolved into his bloodstream and sent him into convulsions that had wrung scream after agonized scream out of him until Pomfrey had deemed it safe enough to knock him out, although even then, his body wouldn't stop seizing from the pain.

He'd still been alive when he'd been rushed out of the castle. Word has it that he's still alive now in St. Mungo's, except the Healers have no idea how to even begin treating him. Mixing multiple failed attempts at Dark potions, most of which even Avery's own roommates couldn't list all the names of or in which order he'd made them, together with one N.E.W.T.-level potion but in an explosion that had caused the maximum amount of entropy in the magic imbued into it— Merlin himself wouldn't be able to fix it with just a wave of his wand.

By dinnertime, everybody is talking about it, and the professors have given up trying to stop them.

(In truth, the outcome probably wouldn't have been quite so serious if Hadrian hadn't added a spell to amplify the toxicity and volatility of the residue in the cauldron, as well as several looping single-use runes to hide the volcanic buildup and also bind the whole thing to Avery alone so that it wouldn't have hurt anyone else even if Snape hadn't reacted in time. Without Hadrian's interference, it would've still exploded sooner or later, but Snape might've seen the danger signs in time to evacuate everyone from the classroom, and even if he didn't, the effects of the potion on Avery probably wouldn't have been so terrible.

But then, that wouldn't have been enough. After all, lessons like these should stick.

Avery will live, but he sure won't enjoy it.)

It's almost ten by the time Hadrian gets back to the Slytherin Dungeon. Snape drops him off at the entrance before sweeping off to his own office in a dramatic billow of irritably flapping robes. He'd been at the Ministry for half the day just to piece together what had happened for them, but as Hadrian had ensured, the Potions master had been cleared of any negligence in the matter. The potion had very obviously shown no signs of exploding - three other experts had verified - and students are expected to take care of their own cauldrons from third-year onwards without the professor having to do weekly checks. Snape had been released by dinnertime, but he'd apparently decided to simply eat in the Ministry cafeteria and return with his student and Babbling, so here they are.

Except-

Just before Snape makes to leave, he turns and pins Hadrian with a long appraising look, clinical and penetrating. Hadrian stares back serenely, and maybe the fact that his mind is a steel trap wrapped around a battlefield would be highly suspect to anyone looking in, but he also doesn't feel so much as a brush of Legilimency from Snape whatsoever. The professor really is just looking at him.

It's a strange new world.

In the end, Snape doesn't say anything before walking off, and Hadrian is left to blink after him before letting himself into the common room.

Everything goes eerily silent the moment everyone realizes he's back. Even if he hadn't said anything, someone - let's be real, it's Malfoy - had spread the news of Hadrian taking his Ancient Runes exams early, so pretty much everyone had known where he'd gone today. It was never a secret though so Hadrian hadn't cared, except when he steps into the room, it's very obvious that everybody is focused on him, and just as obvious that nobody is willing to make eye-contact with him.

The younger students should've already retired for the night. At least everybody still in the common room, studying or playing chess or chatting with each other like any standard evening, are fifth-years and up, so most of these students had probably known - or had been told after the fact - exactly what that curse would've done to Theo Nott that day, and exactly who had been the one to attack him.

And everybody knows what had happened to Avery today. More specifically, they know that what had happened to him today had been an almost perfect mirror of what he'd wanted to do to Nott one week ago. Nobody here believes in coincidences, and there's only so many people who would've had the motivation to orchestrate the entire accident down to the smallest detail.

Most of them have known Nott and Zabini for at least a few years. Perhaps they're not on speaking terms, but they'd still been Housemates for a while. Something like this isn't really Nott's style, and while it is Zabini's, neither of them has the ability.

The only real unknown is Hadrian Evans, and if they still can't put the pieces together at this point, they might as well sell their brains.

The area by the fireplace, normally always occupied by Avery's group at this time, is empty today. Avery's at St. Mungo's, his roommates are in overnight lockup at the Ministry, and any who aren't but were part of Avery's faction are probably hiding up in their rooms. Nobody else has taken their seats, not even the students who usually do when Avery hasn't claimed it for the day.

Hadrian walks towards the doorway leading to the boys' dormitory, and no one stops him. It feels like the entire room is holding their breaths. Nobody speaks. Nobody even moves until Hadrian is out of earshot.

The dorm is likewise very quiet when Hadrian enters. Malfoy's bed curtains are already drawn, as are Crabbe's and Goyle's, but Zabini's are open, and he's lazing against the headboard with a book in his hands while Nott is still at his desk doing homework.

They both look up as soon as the door swings open. Zabini stays on his bed but Nott even stands up as Hadrian shuts the door behind him. His whole frame is tense with a restless sort of energy, and he's staring at Hadrian with shining eyes. They both are, although in different ways. Zabini looks equal parts ecstatic and hungry, while Nott just looks the kind of deeply confused and deeply grateful that makes Hadrian want to set fire to someone, preferably whoever stitched this very expression into Nott's range of emotions out of the pieces they'd torn from him.

Nobody says anything right away. Hadrian squints at them as he makes his way to his own bed, feeling vaguely perturbed, because he hadn't truly expected them to not connect what happened to Avery back to him, but he hadn't thought they would be so fixated on it either. Maybe a roundabout tactful thank-you from Nott, an offer of a favour at most. But not… this, whatever this is.

He laments the fact that these two aren't more stupid when it comes to this sort of thing. Ron would be oblivious. Hermione would be determinedly oblivious. Neville… would actually react a bit like Nott, Ginny would react a lot like Zabini, Luna wouldn't react at all but she'd be extra cuddly for a few days, and gods, Hadrian needs saner friends.

Not that these two are friends of course.

He manages to get through a shower, brush his teeth, and climb into a bed before Nott is suddenly at his side, eyes still shining with something Hadrian really doesn't want to put a name to. Thankfully, he doesn't burst into any heartfelt speeches that would probably embarrass everyone within hearing range. Not so thankfully, he honest-to-fucking-Merlin bows, all archaic and meaningful in every way Hadrian has never learned and so doesn't understand, but even he can sense the weight and deference behind every word as Nott murmurs, "All of mine is yours, until the end of days. I would be honoured if you would call me Theo."

"Jesus fucking Christ," Hadrian mutters, because sometimes wizarding swears just don't have enough oomph to encompass the never-ending circus trainwreck that is his life. He scrubs a hand over his face, peeks at Nott - at Theo - who's still halfway bent over, and of course, it's just his luck that he has no idea how to respond in the proper pureblood way.

He would've preferred the heartfelt speech.

"I'm a halfblood, I don't know how to respond appropriately," He says bluntly because he doesn't know what else to do. But he also flicks a Silencing Ward at Malfoy's bed, then at Crabbe's and Goyle's as well because you can never be too careful, and then he leans over and hauls Theo upright and catches his gaze and holds it, "I'll call you Theo if you call me Hadrian. One day, you'll be strong enough to take care of your enemies on your own, and you won't need anyone else to do it for you if you don't want them to, but until then, if all of you is mine, then your enemies are too, so I'll deal with them if it turns out that they still haven't learned after today. That makes us allies from now on though, which means we're equals, and that means you never, ever bow to anyone again. Not me, and not anybody else either. Understand?"

Theo stares again, wide-eyed and lost and so terribly young, and sometimes, Hadrian wonders what it says about just how messed up the world is when broken kids can be bought so easily.

Finally, almost dazedly, Theo gives some semblance of a nod.

"Hadrian," He says, and something about him straightens, grows steel, settles.

"Hadrian," He repeats and dips his head, not a bow, but respectful all the same, and his eyes are still bright with that unnamed creature, but at least he looks at Hadrian head-on. "Thank you. Goodnight."

Hadrian sighs and figures that this is about the best he's going to get tonight. Maybe it'll dial back to normal in a few days. "Goodnight, Theo."

Theo smiles, tiny, crooked, a little awkward. It's the first one Hadrian has ever seen from him, and that at least he can't be upset about.

They can finally go to sleep though. Theo returns to his own bed, Zabini is still watching them both from his bed like they're his new favourite show, and Hadrian resolutely pretends he doesn't see anything else as he takes down the Silencing Wards before drawing his curtains, rolling over, and promptly making a sincere attempt at smothering himself with a pillow.

His life.

-0-0-0-

End Notes: Ok wow so this got hella long and I didn't really get to all the stuff anon wanted whoops. Theo just… wouldn't stop thinking lmao, and also this AU has the potential to get so big so I ended up cramming in worldbuilding wherever I could. So unfortunately all you get is sort of a starting snapshot of where this is going and how Hadrian is going to turn out and a shitload of Theo's character. I kind of wanted to do him and Blaise's POV but I could only fit Theo, and I feel like getting Blaise through Theo's POV actually added to his character just as much as a personal POV would've. Anyway, those two are basically blank slates in canon so ofc I would pick them to write lolol.

#headcanon meme: answered #HP series #c'est la vie #hadrian evans #theo nott #blaise zabini #draco malfoy #headcanon #slytherin hadrian au

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chitty-chitty-bang-bang-bang · 10 days

Text

Vlad, Viago and Deacon as parents [pt. 3]

[part 1] [part 2]

Requested by @italakthoughts (btw, is it pronounced like “eehtalak” or “aytalak”?)

Author’s note: There will be some angst in this part, sorry guys, couldn’t help myself. This is probably the last part of this as headcanons, but I might make a one shot later. Also, I am still open to requests, but I will be a bit slower with posting, bc college is kicking my ass so hard it’s ridiculous.

_____________________________________________

All three have their favourite game to play with you.

For Deacon it’s tag. You run around the whole house, climbing walls and ceilings, turning into bats or dogs and always trying to outsmart each other.

With all the excessive energy both of you have, this is literally the perfect activity to get you to fall asleep faster, because your tag is hardcore. A human wouldn’t stand a chance.

With Vlad it’s blind man’s buff. Because of vampire’s heightened sensitivity, this game becomes all the more challenging for the one hiding, because you have to move very smoothly and be completely silent.

Of course, Vladislav still senses where you are, but he likes to give way to you. Your happy smile whenever you win is absolutely worth it.

Viago always goes for hide and seek. At first, you weren’t a very good at it and chose the most obvious hiding places. But with time you improved to the point, where Viago sometimes legitimately wonders if he lost you.

When he can’t find you for way too long, he just gives up and asks you to come out of your hiding place.

You also do a lot of tea parties together.

Just imagine the three of them sitting at a tiny table with toy cups filled with blood.

You usually made up some kind of weird circumstances for the party. For example, you pretend that you’re aristocratic mice, who conquered a cat’s lair and now celebrate your victory with a tea party. Or you are all wives of a wealthy king and you plot his murder to share the power between the four of you.

They really get into their imaginary roles. Though sometimes this can lead to them getting a bit carried away and actually starting a fight over a fictional event.

Nick and Stu often join in as well.

You really like playing with Vlad’s hair, since he has the longest out of the three and that means you can do a lot of funny hairdos. He doesn’t really mind, as long as you’re careful to not rip anything out (it grows back very fast, but it’s still an unpleasant feeling).

Deacon often gives you piggyback rides anywhere and everywhere. You basically use him as a jungle gym and while it sometimes annoys him, he rarely protests.

In winter, Viago always takes you ice skating. Even though you’re a vampire and you can’t catch a cold (or feel cold for that matter), he still insist on you wearing very warm clothes. People might think he’s not taking good care of his kid!

When they go to New York for the vampiric council duties (shoutout to wwdits show), they take you with them. Viago definitely takes you to see a musical. He’s not bailing on that. And it’s probably going to be something incredibly campy. Probably Andrew Lloyd Webber too.

You and Deacon have an absolute blast in the NY subway, scaring random people to death with little to no repercussions or getting into the last car and drinking whoever dared to sit there alone.

Some random blogger accidentally caught you and Vladislav turning into bats in an alleyway of Manhattan on video. So you had to hunt him down and hypnotise his whole audience into forgetting about the existence of that footage. It felt nice to be famous even if only for a bit.

As any flatting situation, these three have a lot of bickering and arguments.

They really try to avoid having any of those arguments in front of you, but sometimes it gets out of control. In those cases, they try to either deflate it or just ask you to leave the room and let them sort this out.

Petty or not, parents’ arguments are not something a child should be watching.

If you ever die from being burnt by sunlight or get killed by a vampire slayer they will be utterly devastated.

Vladislav is probably the best at handling it. He grieves silently by himself, reminiscing about all the fun silly things you’d say and do when he wasn’t in the mood. With time, the sadness numbs. But there is still that gaping emptiness somewhere in his immortal soul.

Viago would never forgive himself. Maybe if he took better care of you, if he paid more attention, if he took more precautions, if he kept a closer eye on you, if he was just by your side at the right time… maybe you’d still be running through the halls of this dusty house…

Deacon is just furious. He’s furious at whatever caused your death and he’s furious at you for being so reckless and getting yourself killed. Why do his closest ones keep leaving him so suddenly?

But that won’t happen obviously, you’re not dumb enough to die twice ;)

Genuinely, your time with them could be considered one of the happiest periods of your life. And if you tell them that, they will feel very proud of themselves.

All three of them really mean well and want to give you the childhood they never had.

#what we do in the shadows x reader #wwdits fanfic #wwdits x reader #what we do in the shadows #wwdits #fanfic #viago von dorna schmarten scheden heimburg #viago wwdits #viago x reader #vladislav x reader #vladislav the poker #vladislav wwdits #deacon brücke x reader #deacon brücke #deacon wwdits #x reader #parent headcanons

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secretninjadonut · 2 months

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could you write a eunchae fic where reader just treats her like she's their little sister?

Cutie <3- Hong Eunchae

Eunchae x fem reader (not romantically)

You were in Le sserafim, you were the third oldest and one of the most popular members. You often went viral for ‘babying’ Eunchae or being Eunchae’s favourite unnie. Here are some clips:

Clip #1 🎥

You were playing the Fim game, where you had to collect fim’s and whoever had the most wins. You were walking around trying to look for Fims and saw Eunchae jumping on a trampoline not letting Sakura go, you laugh while Sakura says “Yah! Y/n help me” you giggle as Eunchae says “Unnie don’t help her she won’t give me fim” you hum and say “sorry Sakura unnie I can’t help you, you should just give Eunchae-ah fim”

Sakura looks at you in shock as she keeps getting bounced by the maknae. You laugh walking away.

You soon saw Eunchae walking around while you were talking to chaewon, you blink as she comes up to you and says “Unnie can you give me Fim? I don’t have a lot” you nod and blink opening your bag asking “how much Eunchae-ah?” She smiles and says “a lot unnie!”

At the end of the game you arrived back to the spot and everyone counted their Fim, Yunjin laughs at you pointing at your empty bag, she asks “How did you get none?” You blink and scratch the back of your neck saying “well-“ chaewon rolls her eyes and says “Yah! She gave all of hers to Eunchae” everyone turns their head to see the maknae with a big smile and a stack of Fims in front of her.

Clip #2 🎥

You were recording the Village watch episode and you were at the snack bar at the beginning, you sat in between Kazuha and Eunchae since Eunchae had asked you to sit next to her. Once the food had came you hum while they open it, you blink hearing Eunchae say “I want some ramyeon” you hum and pick up your chopsticks going to take some.

Yunjin says “are you eating that?” You shake your head and say “Eunchae-ah said she wanted it” Kazuha laughs at you as Chaewon says “Yah! Stop babying her!” You shrug and blink feeding her. She smiles and chews as you pat her cheek and Sakura says “your acting like she’s your little sister” you hum and say “she basically is”

Clip #3 🎥

You were doing a pool party with your members, Eunchae had come into the pool and you were playing with her before she says “oh.” You tilt your head and ask “what’s wrong Eun?” She says “I forgot to take my microphone off” chaewons head snaps up as she asks “are you kidding?” Eunchae shook her head as she gets out the pool taking it off and putting it down. Yunjin laughs and says “Yah! Director-nim is crying right now.

Eunchae kneels down saying “I’m so sorry.. I’ll pay for a new one” everyone was laughing, you hum and say “don’t worry Eunchae-ah I’ll pay for you” Sakura says “yah! You treat her too well.. she’s old enough to pay for her own stuff” you shrug and say “it’s fine”

A/n: HIIII DID YOU GUYS MISS ME? Sorry I’ve been gone so long I know I said I’d be back soon, I saw I got more followers too. THANK YOU FOR 182 FOLLOWERS

I’ll try to update more and if not bare with me please ❤️

I’m still working on the Karina fic too and yes the upcoming fics are coming soon as well thank you for reading byeee 💗

#le sserafim #hong eunchae #eunchae #maknae #cute #siblings

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fanonical · 10 months

Note

Did your read/watch the hunger games trilogy? Who was your favorite character if you did??

i read the first two books and dropped off during the third. i thought the first one was a pretty good YA novel, the second felt like a rehash, and the third couldn’t keep my attention. this is basically true for the movies too.

my favourite character is whoever Hunter Schafer plays in the new one because she’s hot. we just keep winning. also why are all the prettiest girls from the same country and where the hell is even 🏳️‍⚧️?

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maranull · 2 years

Note

valentine's day headcanons for Malenia my beloved? 💕

Hi Hug! Sure thing.

Going with modern AU and a first Valentine setting. Also taking some more liberties with the "reader's" actions.

She's the type that never really cared for Valentine's, like, she's aware of the typical candles, petals and moody lighting dates but she never gave it any thought

Which makes a surprise easier (although you still had to call upon her brother's assistance)

Part of our plan is spending the full day together, as you usually spent most of your together time in the evenings

So, you are up at 5:15am, trying to wake yourself up while running behind her along her morning jog

No matter how athletic you may or may not be, after some time you are barely on your feet and she is "forced" to carry you back home

After recovering you start your date

You'd love to visit the local flower exhibition, but given the obscene amount of Valentine's Day displays and bouquets, you decide on "flower hunting"

Flower hunting is walking around quiet neighborhoods and looking for interesting flowers poking out of gardens and yards. Whoever finds the most, or the prettiest looking, wins their drink/snack of their choice when returning home

Given that you're preoccupied with keeping her away from the flower exhibition, you end up loosing and you gave to pay for a hot cocoa*

You get lunch at Miquella's and poor guy is doing his best to hide your plan, but he keeps side eyeing and winking at you at frequent intervals

At around 4-5pm, you leave to spar at your usual park, with a small detour back home to get your sparring gear

(Miquella showed you off then sprinted like hunted by the devil to reach your sparring area)

There, you reveal your gift that Miquella hid for you inside a dead tree trunk

She's a bit shocked at your "Happy Valentine's Day!" exclamation

But she doesn't seem to care for it, or the gift, as she basically lifts you in the air and on the back of a tree with the hug she gave you

In her rush to kiss you she kinda forgets to stop pressing you to the tree, resulting in you kicking your legs in the air while simultaneously trying to kiss back

Back home, insist to shower first and when you're out, you rush to make the table as she's in the shower

Food is her favourite takeout, since you didn't have time for cooking

You set it among white candles and onto a red table cover

You had no time to dry your hair before you hear the water closing, so you run to your seat and wait

She gets out in her usual bare chested, towel tied low around her waist. Somehow she doesn't notice you or the ambiance from the candles as she passes by the hall to get dressed

She comes out in her pajamas and finally notices the table

The dinner itself is very domestic, most remembering moments from old dates and planning a couple new ones

By the end, you end up teasing each other, which turns into play-fighting towards the bedroom

You may or may not spent the night wrestling ;)

I think I managed to finish this before the end of the 14th, so it's still technically in time. :P Also I'm normally passed out at this time so I really hope this is semi-decent cause I have no brainpower to re-check rn.

Hope you like it!

#*this is a Stolen reference and y'all should read bimbom's fic(s) 👍#elden ring #malenia blade of miquella #x reader #headcanons #aight #i'm passing out #👍

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thinkingaboutfilm11 · 9 months

Text

GRACE F1 LORE

Thanks for tagging me @wisteria-wisteria <3

1. Who or what got you into F1?

Basic bitch answer but my dad. He was a big fan, and his dad was a fan. I was plonked infront of the TV to watch it as a kid, and grew up never missing a race. That was until Sky Sports braught it off chanel 4, and now my family can't afford to watch it anymore. I have to pirate it now coz I AINT PAYING 50 A MONTH go fuck yourself Sky Sports.

2.Who was the very first F1 driver you supported? Do you support them now? Have your opinions on them differed or stayed the same since then?

Probably Lewis? Or Jenson? I was (still am) a Mclaren fan as a kid, and my dad always cheered on English drivers, so I just copied him. I still love them both now, my opinions havn't changed on them at all!

3.Who’s your current favourite F1 driver?

Current grid? Probably Max, Fernando or Oscar. They are all so so talented, it's just a pivalidge to watch them drive. I think they're all really funny in their own ways too.

My favourite driver ever? Senna, obviously. Or Prost.... Can't ever pick.

4.Is there a driver pairing or pairings you support? What made you attracted to that pairing in the first place?

I support all and any pairings. F1 RPF in all forms is delicious thankyou. My faves are: Prost X Senna, Carlos X Lando, Max X Charles, Peroni X Villeneuve, George X alex, Mika X Michael, and Nigel X Elio.

The only ship I don't really vibe with is Pierre X Charles? Like idk I just don't feel it. But I'll still read it so lol

5. Do your parents, siblings or relatives have a favourite team and/or favourite driver(s)?

My dad supports Mclaren same as me. My sister isn't really into it? She finds charles hot and will watch edits of him but shes never watched a race or really gives a shit about the actual driving. Shes here for the thirst traps and Ferrari merchandise and I respect that so much.

6. Do you have any favourite races? Are there any that stand out to you the most?

Dallas, Texas 1984. What a fucking shit show. Absolute comedy sketch. Everything about that dumb race is so funny to me.

7. Do you have a favourite circuit? Can be from the past or from the current calendar.

Hungaroing! It was the first F1 race I ever attended, and the joy I get out of watching it and screaming 'IVE BEEN THERE IVE BEEN THERE' never leaves. The first race in person was special, so hungaoring is special now too.

8. Have you ever been to an F1 race in real life? Feel free to tell us your experience going to one if you like

Yes. And I don't know why but I was so shocked at how friendly everyone was. I think I was expecting it to be like football, but everyone got along so well no matter the teams ect. I always get general admission now, because its so much fun to sit and make new friends with other F1 freaks!!! Everyone shares food, alcohol, blankets, brollies ect- its alwaus such a good atmosphere at everywhere I've been.

9. Have you ever met an F1 driver in real life?

Yes. Seb and Jenson. In the same day. I nearly exploded, but actually managed to come off very normal and composed.

10. Do you have a favourite F1 car? If so, what is it?

McLaren MP4/4 1988.

LOOK AT IT

The details, the colours, the absoulte perfection of the livery, and of course the V8 underneath that gave way to MCAREN DOMINATION. Shes perfect.

11. Do you have a favourite one win wonder?

Gerhard Berger or charles.

12. Do you have any favourite quotes from the F1 world? This can either be inspirational or hilarious.

Anything that comes out of Alain Prost's mouth. That man should be a fucking poet. Also- "I'm cuming on your camera mate" hahah

I tag @astirian , @bluesourkiwi , @kimizilla , @whobuilthemoon , @penseesauvageand @eliorosb3rg. Or whoever wants to do itttt love u all

#personal

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finderjust · 2 years

Text

Star trek resurgence shadow play walkthrough

#Star trek resurgence shadow play walkthrough license#

#Star trek resurgence shadow play walkthrough free#

Minitrol assembled a Fellowship of Dwarves with a Mordor Orc Tracker shadow side designed to wear the Fellowship down for a potential late game win.

#Star trek resurgence shadow play walkthrough free#

Most decks fell in the third category with a bit of weighting to one particular side, though one of my more memorable decks was designed to discard two thirds of my Free Peoples cards in the first turn leaving me with a deck composed of 70% Shadow cards for an all-or-nothing Shadow win.įor our game I reconstructed the Mines of Moria starter decks. This ostensibly created three main deck archetypes: decks which ensured the Fellowship could race/survive to site 9 decks with a Shadow designed to kill or corrupt the Ring-bearer and decks which tried to do both. We have a Discord, there’s an updated wiki being built, we’ve got monthly events – it’s a great time to join us so I’d encourage you to log in, have a look, and (hopefully) join us for some games. It’s free, there is a spectate option on games and over the event weekend there will be streaming commentary on some games. We’ve selected Fellowship Block for the August event (comprising first three card sets released) which is the game in its most basic form – great for new players and for returning players getting back into the swing of things. Join us at the Player’s Council Discord ( ) where we will be streaming commentary on random games! See you all there! The event will formally begin at 7PM CST on August 28, and will run until 7PM CST on August 30 (from 00:00 UTC to 00:00 UTC). At the end whoever earns the most points wins! You will be able to play up to 10 league matches over the course of the event, earning points based on whether you win or lose. Once you’ve done that, get your Fellowship-block decks ready and then start playing League games once the event has begun! Register an account on Gemp ( ), then go to the League tab at the top and find the “Players Council Invitational: Fellowship Block Constructed” league, click “See Details” and then click the “Join league” button. The event will be ran entirely within Gemp. The Player’s Council would like to invite everybody to a virtual league starting on Friday, August 28 and running until Sunday, August 30. Players Council Invitational: Fellowship Block Constructed League I’d like to invite you all to come along and play some games. The Players Council have started doing monthly events and the August one is coming up this weekend (28 – 30 August). I was excited when I found Gemp a few years back and it’s great to seeing the thousands of games being played per month on there (over 8,600 last month). I love the deck building (your deck is 50% ‘good’/ free peoples and 50% ‘evil’/shadow), I love the mechanics (the cost of your ‘good’ cards dictates the resources your opponent has to play their ‘evil’ cards), I love the theme and feel of the game. LOTRTCG is still my favourite trading card game and it was one of the card games I made sure to play as part of my 52 in 2018. I’ve seen it happen before with other games and I’m excited about things to come. Other Decipher games have had established player-run committees for a while which are continuing the legacy of their respective games, and while LOTR has only recently seen movement in this area it’s great to be a part of a community which is on the brink of a resurgence.

The newly formed Players Council: A passionate bunch of LOTRTCG players who want to see the game continue, thrive, and grow.

I’m lucky in New Zealand to be able to get out and play games with people (in fact I flew to Wellington last weekend for a tournament – blog post on that coming soon), but I am aware that there are a number of people wanting to scratch that gaming itch and if this works for me then maybe it’ll work for some of you.

The global pandemic: Let’s not beat around the bush on this one – there are a lot of people out there needing to stay home/socially distant.

So, why am I breaking tradition and talking about digital gaming now? Is this blog about to move in a bold new direction? Fear not true believers the blog will remain, for the most part, about my physical gaming however there are two reasons why I want to talk about LOTRTCG on Gemp.

#Star trek resurgence shadow play walkthrough license#

The game enjoyed five-and-a-half (mostly) great years until Decipher’s license expired, while at the same time they were trying to recover from the ramifications of embezzlement. Lord of the Rings was making waves in popular culture and the game had won awards so with my love of card games I fell for it hard. The Lord of the Rings TCG hit the market strong winning 2001 Origins Game Fair Awards for Best Trading Card Game and Best Graphic Presentation of a Card Game.

#Star trek resurgence shadow play walkthrough

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introvert--weeb · 3 years

Note

Hello! Hooe your having a nice day! So please hear me out! Can i request for Mikey, draken, mitsuya,nahoya, ran,rindou,hanma,and baji with a sweet s/o but have a brutal threat to someone with sweet smile and said " were enjoying our day... Can you please kindly fuck off before i lose my cool and chop your dick/rip your ovary? " when someone interrupt them in date by flirting with either of you

Gotta get some jealous vibes on this blog one way! I love this idea! I hope you don't mind that I edited the line a little for each scenario so I don't end up writing the exact same dialogue over and over again

Thank you for requesting and I hope you enjoy it!!

Mikey, Draken, Mitsuya, Nahoya, Ran, Rindo, Hanma, Baji on a date that gets interrupted

TW: mentions of threats, language, jealousy, cringe-y insults that authour has made up based around the prompt :)

Mikey

It had all started off as a normal date between the two of you. Mikey had insisted that you both visit this new dessert cafe that had opened up not that long ago in Shibuya. He had been saving it as a date idea and resisted the urge to demand Draken to take him. It was torture for the sweet-tooth but it would be worth it when you both could experience it together.

You were as equally as excited as your boyfriend. It had been months since you were both able to just go on a date alone. After all, every other time someone who always show up and it would quickly devolve into a hang out session. Today though, Mikey had made sure to express how this time was just between you and anyone who dared interrupt will be dealt with. Sounds threatening but it mainly meant they would have to make it up to the two of you by buying bag loads of desserts for a week. Childish but effective.

It wasn't long until you were both seated at a table, one that was directly by the window. You couldn't believe how perfect this place was! The tables held a menu that was shaped as a crepe and even the napkins that were available had desserts printed along the surface. It was just so cute!

Nothing could do anything to ruin this date for you. You both ordered your favourite desserts (Mikey had to order something other than dorayaki and so simply ordered ice cream) and were now just waiting for the order to be brought over. All was well in the cafe.

That was until a girl around your age had approached the table. At first, you thought she might know Mikey or was maybe one of Emma's friends who simply wanted to say hi. However, that was quickly thrown out when she began to flirt with your boyfriend, twirling a strand of light brown hair around her finger. You simply watched, anger bubbling dangerously in your chest and you had to keep yourself from beating her ass. She must know you were there, after all, you were right beside her.

"Can you please stop flirting with my boyfriend?" You forced a dangerously sweet smile on your face. "We are enjoying our date. So please kindly fuck off before I rip your ovaries from your body," your tone didn't match your words. Every word was dripping in honey yet your eyes screamed 'murder'.

Mikey couldn't hold back his grin from how you threatened the girl. He knew you could be intimidating but this threat was something that amused him immensely. Rip her ovaries out? Over simply trying to flirt with him? Well, he sure couldn't get any more smug. You loved him that much, huh?

"Wow Y/N, never knew you could be so intimidating," the blond joked, amusement glinting in his dark irises. You simply blushed, feeling a little embarrassed but mainly proud of yourself.

The two of you continued on with your date as the waiter brought your desserts to the table. You couldn't have asked for a better day with your Mikey.

Draken

Draken had suggested that you both go to the beach for the day since the weather was so warm. You had packed a picnic for the two of you, wearing cute swimwear underneath a f/c t-shirt and shorts. Slipping on a pair of sandals, Ken had arrived not too long after and you were both off on your way to your destination.

You had both found the perfect spot and set up the towels. Draken simply threw his shirt off as he was already wearing his swim shorts, while you began to strip yourself of the outerwear. Your boyfriend couldn't stop staring once he realised how good you looked in the swimwear.

However, he wasn't the only one to notice and in fact, a group of boys had taken notice and were ogling at your now exposed figure. Draken nor yourself noticed and continued to enjoy your time together. After all, this was quite rare nowadays since Mikey would take up a lot of the blond's time. You didn't mind, it just made days like this extra special and much more enjoyable.

Ken had offered to grab the two of you drinks from the beach stall not too far from where you were situated. You were appreciative for the offer and asked your boyfriend to grab you your favourite cold beverage. He agreed before placing a soft kiss to your forehead, standing up to complete the errand.

It hadn't even been two minutes since the tall blond had left your side before one of the boys had approached you. If it wasn't for the cocky attitude that practically oozed out of him, you would have waved him off with a smile and an apology. In fact, you had tried. He just seemed to be incapable of taking no as an answer or accepting that you were with Draken and that's who you were going to remain with.

Speaking of Draken, he was beginning his way back to where you were, cold beverages in his hands. Everything seemed fine until he noticed the boy trying his hardest to flirt with his partner. No. He wasn't going to have that. And so your boyfriend began his march over to the towel, ready to smash his fists into this idiot's face once he had handed you your drink. However, as he got close enough, his anger and jealousy dissolved into pure amusement.

"Right, this obviously isn't getting through your stupidly thick skull," a heavy sigh indicated how annoyed you had become. "I am enjoying my date with my boyfriend and I really don't need you ruining it. Now, kindly fuck off back to wherever you crawled out from before I chop your dick off and ram it down your throat!" The smile that accompanied your words was too sweet for the threat. It was as if two personalities were clashing together in this one moment.

The boy, now scared for his own safety, was quick to scurry back to his friends. Draken watched before taking his rightful place at your side once again. Cold beverage now handed to you, he opened his own before taking a large mouthful. It cooled him down instantly and a breath of relief was released.

"So... About you threatening that boy..." Draken couldn't stop the smirk that tugged at his lips as your face instantly burned a bright pink. He was going to enjoy teasing you about this.

Mitsuya

The two of you were hanging out at the park with Luna and Mana. Takashi had invited you with him since the girls were asking about playing with you again. Ever since you both started dating, you had grown close to the two small girls, almost acting like an older sibling in some ways.

Luna and Mana were playing on the play equipment while you and Takashi were relaxing on a nearby bench, keeping an eye on the two young children. An arm around your shoulder as the two of you conversed about your weeks. You had a simple week so far; school and homework, while Mitsuya spoke about his Home Ec Club and the basics of his Toman life.

The date couldn't have been going any better, in your opinion. You were spending much needed time to unwind and be around the sweetest boy you knew. There was very little that could ruin this date, right? Well, Takashi had left the bench to make sure his sisters were entertained and safe. You had told the boy that you would watch over his jacket and bag, a soft smile directed in his direction before he went onto the playground.

Moments later and Takashi looked over towards where he had left you with his belongings. He was expecting to see you maybe scrolling through your phone or even looking over to watch the siblings. However, the sight that greeted him caused his blood to boil slightly and his jaw to clench. Some random boy had decided to begin flirting with you and it looked like you were quickly getting fed up with the advances. Telling Luna and Mana that he was going to check on you, he began to make his way back to you.

"C'mon beautiful! Just give me a chance!" Even his voice was starting to grate on Mitsuya's nerves. If he carried on, Takashi would not hesitate to teach him a lesson, even if it went against his more peaceful ways.

"Listen. For one, I don't know you nor do I wish to get to know you. Another thing, I have a boyfriend and we are currently on a date so he should be back soon. Finally, please fuck off before I rip off your nuts and use them to feed the damn squirrels!" You smiled softly at the boy, your eyes glinting with actual intent on carrying through with the threat. That was enough to scare the boy and for Mitsuya to chuckle to himself.

He understood how vicious you could get when you used your words. It was what had first got him to notice you after all. Internally, he was still seething at how the boy had tried to take what was his, but outwardly, the lilac-haired male gave you a soft smile and sat back down next to you.

Nahoya

Of course the two of you would be hanging out at the arcade. After all, you were both competitive and would settle disagreements with games. The current disagreement had came to be settled with a game of House of the Dead, a zombie shooting game. You would both take a turn and then whoever had gotten the furthest into the game would win this argument. Sure it was costing you more than if you were playing casually but this was your pride on the line here.

Currently, you were winning and Nahoya was refusing to back down. It got to the point where Smiley had dragged you away from the House of the Dead machine and decided this disagreement would be decided through the basketball hoop games. After all, he was much better at this than the shooting games. You just agreed, now enjoying the time you both were spending together as well as how desperate your boyfriend was becoming.

This had quickly evolved into a date, no matter how much Nahoya was insisting it was to settle the disagreement. In fact, he was enjoying himself and kept dragging you from one game to another. At this point, neither of you could remember the initial disagreement that started your trip to the arcade.

Collecting armfuls of tickets, your boyfriend had suggested you both head over to the prize counter to cash them in for a prize that you both could enjoy. And so you made your way to the counter where a girl a little older than you was stationed, looking bored out of her mind. That was until she had caught sight of Smiley. In an instant, she had gone from bored to cheerful and more than happy to help.

Nahoya had allowed you to choose the prize since, although he hated to admit it, the majority of the tickets were yours. However, your answer on what prize you wanted had fallen on deaf ears. In fact, this girl seemed too busy ogling at your boyfriend and trying to appear as appealing as she could. Not that Nahoya noticed.

You tried one more time only to be met with the same result. Part of you wanted to beat this girl's face yet the other part found yourself proud that you had been the one to get someone as desirable as Smiley. However, this was quickly dissolving into jealous anger as she reached across and 'accidentally' brushed against Nahoya's hand as she took the tickets he held. "Oops, sorry~!" Her voice was getting on your nerves along with those flirtatious giggles and glances.

"If you wish to keep your arms and ovaries where they belong, I recommend you stop flirting with my boyfriend and get the damn prize I have asked for twice. Please and thank you!"

Smiley was surprised at your actions. You never usually get so jealous. He noticed how you smiled at the girl, almost gritting your teeth behind the barrier of your closed lips. Nahoya couldn't help but find it so cute and savoured the moment. He was definitely going to be bragging to the boys later on about how badass you seemed right then.

The girl clicked her tongue before going off to collect what you had asked for. She must have been salty over the fact she couldn't continue to flaunt off her assets to Nahoya. What she didn't know though was that she was simply saving herself from your wrath. After all, you were not past dragging her outside to defend what was rightfully yours if she kept testing her luck.

"Remind me to never get on your bad side, babe!" Smiley joked, his usual grin growing. You simply rolled your eyes while agreeing with the peach-haired Kawata.

It wasn't long until you had your prize choice in your possession and the two of you continued what had quickly become a date. That meant a bike ride around Shibuya, heading to the local ramen shop that Smiley loved, and then back to either his or your house to watch a movie.

Ran

You would follow your boyfriend anywhere when you could spare the time. Currently, you were clinging to the taller Haitani's arm while Rindo was talking to his elder brother about some gang business. Although you were always around, you never did get involved in their conversation. After all, Ran had told you were too innocent and sweet to get involved in such a violent life. He did everything he could to protect you from his lifestyle.

Due to how intimidating Ran could look and act, you really didn't have to worry about girls trying to flirt with him, and guys knew who he was so there was no way they would risk it. And so you had no reason to be jealous. Ran however, he was constantly on edge in case someone decided to try and steal you away from him. But then he would remember that no-one would dare mess with the Haitani brothers and everything would be fine again.

"Babe? I just need to nip into the convenience store real quick." You pointed over to where the closest one was situated, remembering how you needed some odd bits of things. Your boyfriend simply nodded in acknowledgement, placed a quick peck on the top of your head before continuing his conversation with Rindo. Smiling over the affection, you quickly made your way to your destination. The quicker you got there, the sooner you could be back with Ran after all.

It was a pretty normal trip for you. You had collected all the items you needed, paid for them and started your way back to where your boyfriend and his brother were probably still waiting. Maybe they had finished the gang discussions and you could join in with whatever the next topic was! You sure hoped so since it was starting to get you down not being able to contribute to the conversation. It was as you stepped back onto the street that a boy had stopped you, a nervous yet confident look in his eyes.

Ran would occasionally shift his gaze from his younger brother towards the store you had entered. It was his way of making sure you were safe. After all, there were a lot of people in Roppongi that disliked the Haitani brothers due to their position. Anyone could decide to take out their grudge against him on you and he would not be having that.

It was one of the times when he glanced up that he had noticed the boy talking to you. Your facial expression was telling him that you were quickly losing patience and that something must be happening. Ran interrupted Rindo mid-sentence before trying to casually make his way over. After all, it could be nothing and he wasn't the one to jump to conclusions about a situation. However, he had a hard time keeping his anger in check once he heard the boy's flirting. It was just too bad the rod was left at home.

"You're either deaf or really stupid. I have said that I need to get back to my boyfriend. Now please, fuck off before I chop your dick off and turn your balls into fuckin' earrings," your expression was really sweet when you had uttered the threat. Your lips were curled into a soft smile while your eyes had shut to hide the murderous aura that would surely be seen within them. Maybe Ran was rubbing off on you too much. After all, you used to be such a sweet person who was unable to say boo to a goose. Now you were making threats that even had your boyfriend nervous.

The boy was quick to follow your advice, walking as fast as he could away from the area. You let out a deep sigh before moving your gaze to where Ran and Rindo would be situated. Instead, you were surprised to find the taller Haitani frozen in place not far from you.

"Hey baby! I got my things!" The hand carrying the bag lifted to display the items. Ran snapped out of this daze before giving you a soft smile. He would have to tell Rindo to not piss you off.

Rindo

Nobody would believe you but Rindo loved taking you to cafes that he would come across when he and his brother wandered the streets of Roppongi. It was more to make you happy but he really enjoyed these outings. He could spoil you with your favourite drink and dessert while it was a quiet space for you both to talk about your days. It was one of the only places where Rindo could get away from all the gang business. Here he was just Rindo Haitani, your boyfriend.

You both arrived at one of your favourite cafes, ready to start the first half of your date. Rindo had planned the day so you were unsure on what would occur but that just made it more exciting! Taking your usual table at the back, Rindo couldn't help but chuckle as he watched you scan the menu. He knew you would pick the same thing every time you visited and yet it was almost a ritual you had developed. Sit at the table, scan the menu, decide to have the same thing. He found this adorable and enjoyed the predictability of the situation. Made him feel like a normal middle-schooler for once.

It wasn't long until the waitress had come over to take your orders. You noticed how she must have been new since you had never seen her working here before. At least she wouldn't judge that you ordered the same thing, you thought. The exchange was starting well, she had taken your order with very little hassle which you appreciated. However, it turned sour when she turned her attention to your boyfriend. It was as if a switch was flicked within the waitress as she began to get a little too comfortable around the blond.

Small arm touches when pointing at something on the menu, leaning over so her cleavage was more pronounced, the flirty heart eyes and giggles. All of it was beginning to irk you. Surely she could discern for herself that this was a date. You really couldn't believe the nerve the girl had in doing what she was doing while you sat across from the scene. Thankfully, she had finally taken the order and went to grab the drinks and desserts.

"You OK babe?" Rindo noticed how your usual smile was tense and more forced in its appearance. It was concerning him since you were fine a moment ago. This poor boy didn't realise how much the waitress was flirting, if he even registered that there was flirting. It's not his fault really. He just hardly gets attention when they could simply flirt with his brother.

You didn't answer, just relaxed a little bit. You couldn't get mad at the blond in front of you. After all, he was clueless when it came to girls liking him. Really, you should have kept that in mind considering how long it took for you both to get together due to his obliviousness to that. Slowly your usual smile was reappearing and Rindo felt like he could relax again himself. That was until the waitress came back over.

"Here's your order, handsome! And a little something extra~!" The girl winked as she placed your boyfriend's drink and dessert in front of him. You had caught sight of a slip of paper and what appeared to be a lipstick kiss staining the surface. Oh hell no. This was not on. It was hurting your face by trying to maintain the sweet expression.

"Excuse me but can you not flirt with my boyfriend while I am sat right here?" Keep up the smile Y/N. "After all, we are on a date and before you decided to act like a desperate hooker, we were actually enjoying ourselves. So now that we have our order, can you please fuck off before I decide to rearrange your face and make it so you can't have children?"

Rindo's eyes were as wide as the plates that held the desserts. He didn't really know what to think at that moment. What had happened to his sweet Y/N? Where did you learn to threaten someone? What he wasn't realising was that he was rubbing off on you after all this time you spent together.

The waitress simply glared at you before storming off back to the counter. She must have seen just how serious you were being even though your face had remained as sweet as sugar throughout it. You were proud of yourself and turned your attention from the girl towards your dessert and drink. In excitement, you grabbed at the spoon and scooped some of the sweet dessert into your mouth like a small child would with ice cream. A happy hum left your body as you enjoyed your treat.

"You're scary, you know that right babe?"

"I'm just protecting what's mine, Rin."

Hanma

Hanma enjoyed having you around him most of the time. He loved how you made his days more fun, especially when it came to how jealous you would get. In fact, he thought it was probably one of the most amusing sights he had been blessed with. You were so sweet usually that it was a huge surprise to others when you got jealous.

That day, the lanky male had decided to take you to the amusement park, thinking it was the best way to spend his time away from Kisaki. It was also a good way to get you to cling to him as you were always nervous when it came to certain rides like the Ferris Wheel. You could handle rollercoasters and other rides, but once you were sat on the rickety bench of the Ferris Wheel, you would have to cling onto your boyfriend's arm in fear of falling out.

Just like most of the others, it was rare for you to get some alone time with Shuji anymore. After all, if he wasn't busy with Kisaki, he was busy with something else. But you knew he would show up at your bedroom window most nights to just say hi and get a kiss before he left again. It wasn't an ideal relationship but it worked for you two.

So when Hanma had text you about the date, you were quick to get yourself ready. You made sure that your outfit was super cute and dolled yourself up a little. Hanma would no doubt tease you about how much effort you put in for him but you knew he secretly loved it. You were his girl after all and he was a lucky man to have you on his arm.

The journey from your house to the amusement park was a pretty uneventful one. Hanma had picked you up on his bike but had decided he would follow the rules of the road. As unpredictable as ever. He parked up his bike and you both went to buy your tickets to start the date properly.

The day was spent like any other amusement park date people went on. You rode the rollercoasters and ate your fair share of snacks that you knew weren't good for you. Everything was perfect. Well, if you excluded having to hold Hanma back from beating up a boy that had tried flirting with you. That took some doing since an angry Hanma is a strong Hanma.

It was as the sun was starting to set that the incident occurred. A girl with long blond hair had decided that she would try her luck in getting THE Shuji Hanma. All while you were standing there, cuddling into his arm. At first, you tried being polite by making your presence known. If she knew he was already taken then she should lose interest and move on with her day. What wishful thinking, eh? Instead, it seemed to spur her on more, even commenting on how Shuji deserved a 'real woman' not a 'child'. That was the last straw.

"I don't know whether you are blind, stupid or have a fuckin death wish at this point." You let go of Hanma's arm and stepped towards the annoyance. "But as you could clearly see, Hanma is taken. Now, unless you want me to put you six feet under, I suggest you fuck off and leave my boyfriend alone."

Maybe it was the sweet smile that accompanied the threat but the girl was scared. You were obviously crazy, she thought as she rushed back over to her group of friends. She was probably lucky to only get off with the verbal threat. If she hadn't have left, you would have caused a lot of injuries to her. After all, you had to be strong enough to do that when Hanma was your boyfriend.

Speaking of Hanma, he had watched the whole exchange with an amused smirk on his face. This threat was tame compared to the others he had heard leave your mouth before. However, he was disappointed that the other girl ran off. He was hoping to see you make that threat a reality until he would have to stop you. However, he still got to see that cute angry pout that would always show up when you had calmed down.

"If only she had stuck around. Could have had some fun."

"Shut up beanpole."

Baji

Baji was the one who would mainly get jealous. After all, you were gorgeous and he felt he didn't deserve you. So when anyone paid a little too much attention to you than what he felt comfortable with, he would get annoyed and have to stop himself from getting violent.

You both had decided to hang out just the two of you for once. Chifuyu was busy working at the pet store after all so you could count that day as a date. Baji had his arm wrapped around your shoulders as you wandered the streets of Shibuya, entering stores that caught your attention.

The date was going well. Considering you both would usually have Chifuyu, and more recently Takemichi, joining you, it was nice to just have some time to be a couple without worrying about making the younger blonds feel like third and fourth wheels. That meant you couldn't really enjoy innocent physical contact like this without feeling guilty. So this was rare and you were enjoying it a lot.

"Hey sweetie, you want to go get some Peyoung Yakisoba?" Baji asked, starting to direct you towards the usual spot you would get the delicious dish. You weren't sure why he asked considering he knew the answer would be yes. So with a giggle, you snuggled into the boy's side with a grin.

Baji felt his heart skip about 10 beats at the sight. You were honestly too cute for him and moments like this proved it.

The walk was only a few minutes but you remained glued to the boy's side the entire way. It was your favourite spot to be. Baji had offered to go and order the noodles while you wait outside, something that you reluctantly agreed to. You only agreed since the noodle shop was so small that you couldn't realistically stick by your boyfriend. And so you sat on the bench not too far from the door.

Baji wanted to be quick, not entirely comfortable with you sitting alone. Usually Chifuyu would keep you company and that kept the boy calm but since he wasn't here, you were forced to be alone. And that didn't sit right with the 1st Division Captain.

You kept yourself entertained by scrolling through your phone but that was short-lived as a boy a little older than you turned up. Placing a smile on your face, you decided to hear out what the boy might want. After all, it could be as innocent of a request as asking for directions. However, you were a bit too naive in that regard.

Your boyfriend exited the building, the noodles in hand, when he saw the boy flirting with you. Anger bubbled almost instantly within his chest and he was about to march over and pummel this idiot into the ground. It was only what you said next that had him stop in his war path.

"As I have said about 14 times now, I have a loving boyfriend and if you think I'm going to leaving him for a limp dick like you, you're delusional. Now, fuck off before I chop your shrimp dick off and offer it to the restaurant to use in one of their dishes. Although there wouldn't be enough to use in even a kiddie's portion." You delivered the threat with your usual smile yet Baji could see that your eyes were sending daggers the boy's way.

Baji couldn't be more proud of you for how you threatened that idiot. It amused him so much that he couldn't prevent the laughter that erupted from him. The boy who had previously seemed filled with confidence, was now running off in fear that you would follow through with the threat. You just glanced over at your amazing boyfriend with a grin on your features.

"C'mon babe, we're heading home. I'm so proud of how you handled that though." Baji calmed his laughter before placing a kiss to your forehead. Arm wrapped around you, the two of you headed towards the apartment building Baji lived in.

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himbeaux-on-ice · 2 years

Text

looking for the presser for that Reavo quote led me back to one of my favourite underratedly delightful 2021 pressers, ft the usual suspects (coming off an OT GWG and eight (8!!) combined points between them), which I have now watched like five times for serotonin

the highlights:

Mark's mic being broken/disconnected to start

Mark getting confused about whether he should talk bc of that.

Max (mid-hiccup) noticing the mic problem and silently turning his own mic towards Mark a little bit to 'help' while looking directly at whoever's behind the camera ('Is- is that good? Am I helping?' you are not, but it's the thought that counts honey):

our old friend Chris Chapman asking a question that references a prior inside joke (reference to an old football movie) that Mark and Max made with each other in a different presser like two months before. good job Chapman you're being so normal about it. relatable.

disembodied tech support hands reaching into frame to unplug and re-plug the mic at one point.

Max looking over to Mark with a deferential "correct me if i'm wrong" about something he said which he definitely seemed to already know was true, twice (also giving us a great side view of his floofy hair):

Mark's mic still being out halfway into this session despite best efforts

Max at this point very visibly trying not to laugh at whoever's behind the camera trying to fix the mic, while Mark is stoically giving some heartfelt answer about the fans despite having been asked basically the same question like two or three times (sound on for the additional comedy of Stoney's monotone impassioned word-salad rambling in the background lmao):

a trademark 'our captain is fantastic and the very best no i'm not surprised that he had five assists tonight and obviously he set up my game winning goal that was all him he's amazing' speech from Patch, bc what is a presser without one

Mark still doing his usual 'nah it was all on the shooters to get open, I just found them with the puck, they did all the work' humble schtick after a match in which he set a new franchise record for assists in a single game with FIVE primary assists, setting up every goal Vegas scored. unbelievable. I'm gonna shake him.

some cat behaviour:

Max saying he felt like he was gonna throw up if he had to skate up the ice one more time trying to chase down one of the Wild's rookies with his "old legs" in three-on-three OT before he finally scored lmao

(honourable mention even tho it's not in this clip to the fact that when the GWG is scored you can hear Mark just fucking screaming in the mostly-empty arena lmao)

these half-second screencaps I accidentally paused on which I'm keeping as reaction memes:

Mark saying it was a "first place game and we had to play like it" and then getting asked about that same answer later and saying basically yeah it was pretty good except for the second period where we kinda sucked real bad

Max being super fidgety most of the time and then zoning the fuck out with a stock-still thousand yard stare for a good fifteen-twenty seconds twice in the last minute or so of the presser, presumably out of sheer tired

Mark abruptly sounding like he's gonna cry mid-answer and then you realize he was just trying not to burp lmao

what a couple of fools, bless <3

#sad content? no. living in the past is what we will do. i have decided.#vegas golden knights #mark stone #max pacioretty #6167 #long post #i thought about putting it under the cut but decided it's my blog and u all have to put up with me #other biggest takeaways is maxpatch handsome and stoney has such absurdly delicate wrists. and also a blinking tic but we knew that

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glitterandgoldrush · 2 years

Note

begging for your fluffy headcanons for today

well, y’know what they say, beg and you shall receive

addy buys flowers for everyone. it’s just a thing. before a group hang out, she buys a bunch and painstakingly picks the nicest ones to hand out

the first time she did it; she bought carnations because they were the cheapest and still looked pretty

this is how the group finds out cooper is allergic to carnations

(and bees, he will add reproachfully to anyone who asks. spring is his worst nightmare)

now addy buys roses

luis changes the menu of the cafe over time. just quietly suggesting to his dad an addition here and there until the whole menu is basically his

which means: it’s full of maeve’s favourite food. and the special he made cooper one time that’s now on there forever. addy’s favourite soft drink always gets ordered in, he gets a specific brand of chips that bronwyn likes

(let it be known that mr santos is very aware of why these menu changes are happening, he just likes the kids so much he lets it happen)

(let it also be known that luis thinks he’s being very slick)

cooper gives his family pass tickets for his game to kris, luis and addy. he spares only two for lucas and nonny. when the three protest, he just shrugs and says very quietly “but you are my family”

they hardly ever miss a game

kris carries around a first aid kit in his car. he has to use it fairly often because the group love to do dangerous stupid things

addy falls off a skateboard, turns around and immediately whines “kris!!”

he loves it. he’s such a dad.

bronwyn buys books for the others that she thinks they’ll like. she gets too embarrassed to give it to them and will just leave them at their doors or in their bags

they always know where they’re coming from though

sometimes she writes notes in the margin, or circles or underlines the parts that she thinks are relevant. she gets cooper his first book about lgbt history & addy a book about overcoming traumatic and abusive relationships. she writes long paragraphs about how loved they both are and circles the bits in the book where it talks about strength and perseverance with notes like “this is you” and “i’m always here”

they both cry. and take bronwyn out for dinner.

bronwyn never actually admits that it’s her. she likes the idea of the kind anonymity.

maeve and nate have a competition going to see who has to deal with more of bronwyn’s freak outs. whoever has the least at the end of the year has to buy the other dinner.

nate was winning for a while, until they got into a fight. then the ensuing breakdowns bronwyn had over that put maeve in front by a long mile

they’re all so protective of each other & will get into fights. which range from actually effective (cooper, luis, nate) to verbally brutal (maeve, kris) to “oh my god someone help them before they get knocked out” (bronwyn, addy)

every time kris goes out to the store. he buys something for cooper. and i mean every time. like he goes to the grocery store? he’s bringing back red vines. he goes to buy clothes? congrats on your new shirt coop. he goes to the gas station? he left a chocolate bar for cooper in the fridge. he can’t help himself.

one time, cooper asks him why, and kris shrugs, all embarrassed, and admits “i’m just thinking about you all the time so i see things and just think: cooper would like that”

cooper repays him by letting kris fall asleep on him whenever and wherever he wants. kris is a very overworked individual, and so sometimes he just needs to sleep. cooper is a walking pillow.

(which also has the unintended side effect that kris struggles to sleep without him)

(he never tells cooper because he doesn’t want him to feel bad or to stop letting him sleep on him)

addy often insists on piggyback rides

kris cooper and nate usually indulge her

one time maeve tried and they both ended up on the floor

#one of us is lying #oouil #cooper clay #kris #maeve rojas #addy prentiss #luis santos #bronwyn rojas #nate macauley #oouil content month

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interlunium-opus · 3 years

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Enhypen as your Best Friend: Sunghoon Edition

Diligent and upright so together with his outstanding visuals, he’s basically the textbook example of the ideal man -- girls want him as their boyfriend and mothers, as their son, if not, son-in-law. Best believe, when you walk with him in public, eyes will be glued on both of you with all the adoring gaze following him and the stink-eye following you.

Is actually clingy in his own way in that he will literally stick to you in crowds, either trailing closely behind you or is holding onto you so that you’ll stay close. You don’t know if it’s because he's introverted or if it's because he's just so attached to you. Either way, this is actually why Jay usually calls you Sunghoon's centre of gravity because he's always sticking to you and if he's not initially, he eventually will.

Highly observant of your quirks and habits. He basically knows you like the back of his hand ((and is ready to fight ✨with words✨ whoever contends otherwise)).

"Shall we get y/n a Matcha Latte?" Jake asks as he runs through the menu at the coffee shop, "I remember she said she likes the Matcha here."

"That was the Matcha souffle pancake -- not the beverage," Sunghoon corrected, "She likes Hazelnut Americano, let's get her that instead."

"I'm pretty sure she takes pure Americano though, I've been seeing her dawning that every night whenever I bump into her at the library," Heeseung chirps in.

"Dude, that's because that was her nth cup of coffee. She limits herself to, at max, 2 bottles of Nescafe Smoovlatte every morning. If she needs more -- she'll take unsweetened ones hence the Americano that you see her inhale every evening," Sunghoon explains, grinning smugly as if he had just aced a test.

"We get it Sunghoon, you know her the best and the longest, you win," Jay rolls his eyes, "Can we crack on please? I need my coffee."

Always keep you at the forefront of his mind and never leaves you behind.

“Here’s your order Sunghoon,” said Jungwon as he hands out today’s lunch.

“Thanks,” he replied, “where’s y/n’s?”

----

"Here's the daily rotation for this week," the head of camp announces.

"Oh where's y/n's name? is she in the same time slot and place as I am?" Sunghoon asks, busily searching for your name before he checks his own.

Boi is sometimes shy especially in crowds but won't hesitate to raise the issue if you're in it.

"Oh you guys are doing a good job at this," the professor commended as he looks through the project your group, which included Sunghoon, had prepared.

"Actually, y/n constructed the whole system, we just simply filled it out and filtered it afterwards," Sunghoon voiced out before giving you his signature megawatt smile, "She made the whole thing easy and seamless for us."

Very cautiously protective of you, almost like that of a father to their child who had just learnt walking. For instance, his hand would hover behind you whenever you’re at a situation where you might fall, whether it is ice-skating; hiking; whatnot. Also is protective of you against other guys.

“Hey, why don’t you call y/n over," Jake asks, "The more the merrier."

"Hell no, you guys are like a group of savages," Sunghoon scoffs.

Jay rolls his eyes, "Just say you want her all to yourself and go."

Boi is normally reserved and shy but with those he's close with, especially you, he can be very loud, playful and sarcastic. So not only are people jealous of you for being close with a heartthrob but they're also jealous because of how carefree and generally at ease he is whenever you're around -- something not just anyone can do.

He may look like a cinnamon roll, but he for sure ain't one. Those who are close to him, including you, can attest to this -- boi is always delivering snide remarks, is sarcastic and is always ready to fight ((with words, that is)). His hobby ((or forte)) is nagging you, teasing you 24/7 and bantering with you. But beneath all that, he adores you and always quietly take care of you: he'll slip new hot packs into the pocket of your coat; he'll, on auto-pilot, help you open your bottles since you always struggle with them; he'll help you with your heavy books; he'll carry your heavy backpack; and so on. But since he's also kind of a tsundere, whenever he helps you with something, he'll mask it by saying something narcissistic or sarcastic 🙄.

"At this rate, you're going to get cramps," Sunghoon snidely remark as he takes the books that you were carrying off of your arms.

"Just trying to stop you from getting hypothermia," he mumbles as he wraps his hand over your freezing hand and shove it in his pocket.

"Don't want you fainting or something since you always skip breakfast," he would say when he hands you your favourite pastries during your morning classes with him.

Is always playing with your hands: if he's bored, he would be tracing circles at the back of your hand; if your hands are freezing, he would hold it in his and sometimes would just shove it in his packet for added warmth; if your hands accidentally come into contact with his while you're walking or watching tv, as if on auto-pilot, he will start linking his fingers with yours; and so on.

"Just date already, oh my God," Jay grumbles when he saw Sunghoon grabbing your hand and interlocking your fingers with his, mid-movie.

"Stay pressed," Sunghoon mouthes to Jay 😏.

#enhypen #enhypenwriters #enhypen imagines #sunghoon #enhypen sunghoon #enhypen sunghoon imagines #sunghoon imagines #enhypen fluff #kpop imagines #enhypen scenarios #park sunghoon

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moonctzeny · 4 years

Text

love to hate me

request: celebrity! jaehyun + enemies to lovers + “don’t you want to know how i feel?”

pairing: friends to enemies to lovers! jaehyun x female reader

genre: smut, angst, fluff... this fic has it all folks

word count: 7.514k

warnings: toxic behaviour, public sex, light restraining, jaehyun pulls a ‘white boy punching the wall’ at some point

summary: “You and Jaehyun meet as SM trainees, developing a friendship until he debuts and you deicde to leave the company and pursue a solo career. When you reunite again in a music show and he acts like he barely knows you, you stubbornly begin a series of hate-brimmed sex rendez-vous. Your touch-and-go relationship continues on, until a song collaboration will force you both to deal with all your repressed feelings for each other”

a/n: this is the longest it has ever taken me to finish a fic.. I have a love-hate relationship with this (no pun intended XD). I hope whoever requested this likes it!

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Of-fucking-course you had to bump into him out of all people at the vending machine. All you wanted was a drink to refresh you before you got up on stage, and now you have to deal with Mr. Too Good For This World and his relentless teasing. His eyes, lit up by an amusement that was also evident in his smirk, stayed glued on your body, raking up and down at it for a second too long. Not that you didn’t like it.

“Stare much?”, you bark at him in hopes of snapping him out of his trance, and push through him to punch in the code of your favorite drink. But alas, he always had a comeback ready on the edge of his lips.

“You look ridiculous”, he states and you have to admit that your outfit, though fitting for the Halloween special of today’s music show, was way different than anything else he had ever seen you in. Reincarnated as Dorothy Gale for the night, your stylists had chosen a short, light blue checkered dress, with red stilettos that gave a sexy twist to the character’s ruby slippers. Hair neatly braided in two pigtails, decorated by ribbons and topped off by glittery pink makeup. The image of innocence. Jaehyun had to laugh.

“Says the man dressed up as Woody”

It was unfair, you admitted, how good he looked in that stupid outfit. His hair was gelled back, a few strands framing his handsome face strategically. The yellow shirt fitted him like a glove, its bright colour lighting him up as well. And those jeans, tight in all the right places, just melted over the muscles of his thighs. The ones that you’ve come undone on one too many times.

“So”, he lilts, giving you a once over before lowering both the volume and pitch of his voice, “want a ride?”

You scoff, sparing him an incredulous look, “on what horse, cowboy?”

He doesn’t reply, only points with his eyes to his crotch that is undeniably sporting a visible tent, and you gasp when you see the outline of his dick twitching under your stare.

“Jesus Christ, Jaehyun”, you mutter with a disgusted look on your face before picking up the almost forgotten beverage that the vending machine had barfed out for you. The boy mentioned, however, was unfazed.

“They don’t call me Woody for nothing”

Almost choking at the drink that was supposed to calm you down, you catch his eyes rolling at you through your third cough. Well, that ruins one of your favourite childhood movies. “Don’t pretend to be a prude. Now are we going to fuck before you get on stage of not?”

You can clearly remember the first time you met Jung Jaehyun alone. You always spotted him somewhere in the SM buildings, joking around with his future bandmates, barely ever without company. As a fellow vocal trainee, he introduced himself to you as Yoonoh, filling up the awkward silence while your vocal teacher prepared the music sheets for the both of you to rehearse.

You were thankful the two of you always got paired up together. Jaehyun was charming, easy to be around, funny. He was a model SM trainee with the otherworldly looks he possessed, almost impossible for anyone’s eyes not to follow him when he entered a room. Radiant porcelain skin, soft brown locks, and a dimpled smile that made your heart melt in seconds.

You can also clearly remember the first time you had the privilege of hearing him sing. Jaehyun had a beautiful baritone voice, one that contradicted his flower boy image but matched his manly personality perfectly. The four walls of the small practice room resonated with his sound, that was stable and smooth like honey. The lessons were challenging but Jaehyun made them bearable through spending time with him. Maybe it was your shared struggles, or how you were always tired and vulnerable when you saw him. Maybe it was those damned dimples, but your heart always beat faster when you were around him.

“Sometimes I get discouraged”, he confides in you in that same room, hours later, early into the morning now. The vocal lesson stretched on longer than expected, leaving you two sitting on the floor, sharing a cup of lemon-honey tea to soothe your vocal chords. You let your head rest to the leather couch behind you as you stare into his handsome features one by one. What time was it? Shouldn’t you be back at your dorms by now? It didn’t matter, this was one of those moments when time seems to stop and life seems unreal. When the only thing that you care about is the person standing next to you, and whatever it is they have to tell you.

“I fear that I will never get to debut. There’s handsome guys all over the company. I just don’t know if my skills are enough.”

You thought he was crazy for thinking that way, wanted to scream at him that he’s just perfect and more than enough for the company, or for anything in this world for that matter. But Jaehyun was reserved, the type to always mask his true feelings behind a smile and you were more than glad that he finally opened up to you, that he saw you as someone trustworthy. You didn’t want to dismiss his feelings, so you just pet his hair while you listened to his concerns.

As you mindlessly gaze at the rainy weather outside, a couple of droplets following their own path down the froggy window remind you that time does run by. Even if every day seemed the same, following the same routine, going to the same classes over and over again.

Jaehyun had this sad look that contorted his pretty face and you hated it, reaching up to massage away the wrinkles between his eyebrows. You don’t know which godly creature made the hourglass of time freeze this moment, nor did you know why Jaehyun leaned forward to capture your lips into a kiss. Maybe it was his way of saying thank you for keeping your ears and heart open for him, for listening to him when he needed it most.

It felt so lovely while it lasted, two young people leaning on each other during an uncertainty that anchored them far away from their emotional shoreline. But life as a trainee isn’t a fairytale and falling in love can have serious ramifications. So you promise to each other that this will be a one time thing, and then you never speak of this night ever again.

Unsurprisingly enough, Jaehyun got to successfully debut, yet you didn’t have the same luck. The company had plans of focusing on their new boy group, thus postponing your debut for an uncertain amount of time. It was hard for you to decide to switch labels, to throw away the years of hope and dedication you had pinned on this company but the faith you placed on yourself was stronger.

It’s years later when you finally get to promote as a solo artist in a different company, and you are happy to say that the decision you made all those years ago was the right one. The exposure you got wasn’t the same as being in a Big 3 company, however leaving SM entertainment has its pros. Flexible schedule, less scrutiny, great creative freedom over your work.

This wasn’t the first time you have come across your old trainee buddy. Jaehyun had multiple comebacks in a year, so it was only natural that his group’s and your promotions would sometimes overlap. You were only a rookie, and NCT turned out to become pretty popular, so of course the wins were always tied to their names.

The first time you walked past him in the hallways, dark makeup and professional styling making you both almost unrecognizable, you expected a wave, small talk, maybe some reminiscing of the old times. Instead, you got a cold stare or at best, an arrogant smirk coupled with a “Do better next time”. It was shocking to you how much Yoonoh, the boy with the shy smile and awkward social skills, would turn into such a stranger.

How you always ended up sneaking out with him to have a quickie in one of the ready rooms, was beyond you. He rushed you inside before checking both sides of the hallway, cautious to hide from any curious eyes. The coast was clear and Jaehyun doesn’t like to waste time, so he pins you against the door he just closed behind him, face dipped in your neck. You can feel his fingers dancing on the skin of your thighs, eager to explore what is hidden under your frilly skirt, and their delicacy in contrast to his feverish kisses sends a shiver down your spine.

One pretty whine from your lips, then two, three and you can feel Jaehyun smile deviously against your neck. The softness is too enticing for him to resist, so he nips at it skillfully, trying to get a reaction out of you. He recognizes that you have plenty of talent as a singer, yet the symphonies you sing out for him in those little sessions seem to be his favorite.

“Jaehyun, cut it out. I’m going on stage in like, 20 minutes”

“Turn me on then”

Wasn’t he the one that basically flashed you in the middle of the cafeteria for just existing? Isn’t it his hard on that digs against your lower stomach? The demand made you mad, and you wanted nothing more than to entice him with a nice blowjob, only to take a big, strong bite off that cock of his. But see, you had a full face of makeup on and your career is way more important than a fuckboy, so you’ll have to get creative.

Flipping him around so that he’s the one trapped between you and the door, you start to suck on his collarbones , then nibble at the tender flesh. He seems distracted enough by it so that you open the button of his jeans and fully remove his belt from their loops with no objections. Palming him over his boxers to keep him entranced, you manage to bring his wrists together, wrapping the leather around them, then lastly fastening them in place.

His eyes widen in shock when he realizes that he’s too late, wiggling his hands in a futile attempt to free himself. Your laugh is sadistic, making the hairs on his arms stand on edge and you gloat in the effect you have on him.

Giving your palm a good lick, you form a ring with your fingers, wrapping them around the base of his member. He hisses and drops his head back, thudding loudly against the wall. His cock enlarges and reddens as you move your hand up and down, changing the pressure according to his reactions. Jaehyun isn’t one to express himself freely but there is not much he can do to stop the low moans leaving his lips. Not when you rub circles over his tip with the soft skin of your palm.

He looks so fucking good, all squirmy and desperate and trying to hold himself from saying ‘please’. You almost want to keep going, squeeze him more until he whines and begs to cum, and admire the white beads dripping from his slit and covering your hand. Almost.

You halt your movements with a last strong stroke, crossing your arms over your chest as you stare back at him. Jaehyun tentatively opens one eye to see why you have stopped, only to come across that bratty smile that he loves as much as he hates.

“You should have dressed up as a siren. Seducing people before they realize you are a man eating bitch”

“If you want someone to jerk you off you can go ask one of your little fangirls. I want to get fucked.”

“Let me go then. And you’ll wish you never did”

You scoff at his cockiness, nonchalantly freeing him from his constraints, and the way he immediately has a hold of your jaw reminds you of a predator eyeing its prey. His eyes have a crazy look in them, moving frantically over every part of your body like he can’t decide what to grab onto first. He decides on your hips, bending you over a table full of snacks and makeup tools and flyers of today’s schedule.

“You think it’s funny to tease me like that?”, he asks you with a peremptory voice that signifies you’d better shut up.

You hear shuffling behind you and assume it’s him slipping on a condom, so you make yourself more comfortable on the wooden surface. A hard slap on your ass jolts you alert.

“I asked you a fucking question”, Jaehyun presses brusquely and flips your skirt fully over your ass, pulling your panties down until they’re bunched up right over your knees.

“It’s fun”, you moan out, breathless both from the pleasure and the stinging feeling on your right cheek, “What are you gonna do about it?”

Was the room occupied by one of the artists that have already been on stage? Or will they barge in at any moment to find you bent over and pussy dripping for Jaehyun to finally dive inside you? He chuckled at the sight of you, eyes feasting off your naked body, your ass up just the way he likes it. Not so innocent anymore, huh?

He doesn’t reply to you, aligning himself against your slit and bottoming out in one go instead. Involuntarily, you let out a small screech, the sudden stretch catching you off guard.

“You better stay quiet, siren. Or maybe you would like it if people found us like this? Saw how good you take my cock whenever I ask”

You wanted to bite back at him, but the only sound you could make was a guttural moan. It was embarrassingly loud, and you fall forward to bite your fist and force yourself to shut up. It was effective, yet Jaehyun had other plans for you, pulling your pigtails towards him in a strong grip that has you against his chest in seconds.

“Nuh, uh, uh, siren”, he hums in your ear, his panting making his voice sound huskier and smokier than ever, “How about trying to stay quiet by using your willpower alone? That way it’s more- how did you call it? Fun.”

He slows down his pace momentarily, as if he’s giving you time to answer him. But the moment you open your mouth to talk back at him, he thrusts particularly hard inside you, forcing a whimper out of your lips.

“Fuck you, Jaehyun”

“As you wish”

Jaehyun was conceited and cocky and a dick, but he was also a good fuck. He kept at it with what seemed like all the energy in the world, fucking you against that table until you came all over him, and your legs gave out. It ended how it always did, with him moaning how fucking sexy you look and how much he hates you, and you swallowing your pride as you swallow his cum. You’d tell each other to fuck off and never bother the other again, until you meet up at the next comeback, to do this shit all over again.

And that’s how things would stay if it wasn’t for that goddamn phone call from your manager.

“...so we thought what better way to promote your new song by recording a duet with NCT’s Jaehyun?”

No, no, no this can’t be happening. No way. Anyone but him.

“Are you sure this is the only way we can promote me? Can’t I just go to variety programs like every other idol out there?”

“y/n, duets by different group members are one of the most efficient methods of promoting there is! And with NCT’s latest song topping the charts this will be a great opportunity for you. Taemin and Sunmi did it. Suzy and Baekhyun, Chanyeol and Punch-“

“Alright, okay, I get it”

“Besides, since you used to be an SM trainee they specifically asked for you. The directors made some pretty big compliments on your work”

Isn’t it a little too late now? Not like they didn’t have the chance to debut you, right? That being said, there isn’t much to oppose to decline SM’s offer; your manager is right and you know it. Saying no to Lee Sooman and giving up a popularity push like that is basically career suicide. Nor could you let your manager know about your and Jaehyun’s little adventures, minutes before you have to go on stage.

“Just send me the schedule. I don’t have to record with him, right?”

“Oh no, they’ll record his part first and then they’ll send it to us. But there will be a music video of course”

Oh for fuck’s sake.

There was this little monster of worriedness that was screaming inside your head, refusing to shut up. This collaboration isn’t going to be easy, but you didn’t want to let Jaehyun’s pettiness get in the way of your career. Fumbling with your phone in your hands, you kept removing and reinserting its case compulsively, over and over again, until you mustered the courage to take matters into your own hands.You knew his number was buried somewhere in your contacts.

you [16:35]: hey it’s me, y/n

Jung Yoonoh [16:50]: y/n who??

you [16:55]: y/n y/l/n? the girl whose guts you were inside in last week? we have a song coming up 😒

Jung Yoonoh [16:57]: oh y/n right

Jung Yoonoh [16:58]: thought you’d have deleted my number

Well you sure have deleted mine, you murmur with your blood boiling, regretting reaching out to him in the first place.

you [16:59]: i always hoard peoples contacts

you [17:00]: old habits die hard i guess

Jung Yoonoh [17:00]: like the habit of me being inside your guts?

You gasp out after reading his last message, hands awkwardly juggling your phone until you’ve forced yourself to calm down. After waiting for a while, until your face has reached its previous temperature, you feel focused again, and type out your original intentions for this conversation.

you [17:05]: this isn’t what i texted you about.

you [17:07]: we have this project coming up and while I know we aren’t exactly on the best terms, this comeback is very important for me

you [17:08]: and i don’t want to fuck it up

Jung Yoonoh [17:10]: kitty cat, relax. maybe this is a brand new word for you but i know what professionalism is

you [17:10]: don’t you ever and i mean ever call me that again

you [17:11]: glad to see we are on the same page

You didn’t expect a message back, nor did you get one. All you could do from now on, was pray that the promotions would go smoothly and Jaehyun wouldn’t do anything stupid that would jeopardize your collaboration.

------------------------------------------------------

And the day you dreaded finally came. The first day of filming for the music video.

You had already finished recording the song, a bittersweet balad about two lovers who lost their way, only for their paths to cross again. When you listened to the demo for the first time, it only took three notes from Jaehyun’s pre-recorded verse to spread goosebumps on your skin. His voice was deeper and even more developed than you remember. Long forgotten memories, shoved deep inside your brain so as not to leave a bitter aftertaste in your mouth, came flooding up again. But things have changed since then.

The sky was crying rain and lightning, fitting to the storm inside your head. Normally you'd be excited to film a music video, bubbling with energy and unable to contain a smile. Today, all you could do was let your teeth abuse the cuticles of your left thumb, until little drops of blood ruined the fresh manicure you got for the shoot.

Following your manager inside the studio, you take a quick glance at all the props the creative directors have prepared. They were very intricate, filled with all different types of flowers everywhere. Some of the fake rooms looked like classrooms, two others were decorated like teenage bedrooms. It was a lot more than you have anticipated.

“The song will be part of a drama OST, that’s why the budget is higher than usual”, your manager tells you as if he was reading your mind.

He leads you to the changing room, where you try on different outfits your stylist has chosen for you, while simultaneously being briefed on the concept of the music video. It’s kinda cheesy and cute, with you and Jaehyun posing as high-school students falling in love. Certain scenes of the drama, whose plot matches the music video’s, will intercept in between.

You’re seated on the makeup chair, sunk in the uneasiness caused by your co-star. Jaehyun had arrived a few minutes after you, his bare face more handsome than you’ve ever looked in your most glamorous state and you can’t help but stare at him. He is all polite smiles and bows to the staff, and even gives you a formal greeting.

You’re not sure why you just can’t bring yourself to stop your legs from shaking as the makeup artist patiently tries to apply a rosy blush on your cheekbones. It’s like you’re scared that everyone will see right through the both of you, somehow enter your brain and find out that you’re replaying your last encounter with Jaehyun in the music show’s waiting room in your head. As you try to read through his expression, to see if he’s nearly as nervous as you are, you defeatedly can’t decode what’s going on inside his head. Not like you ever could.

You glance at both you and Jaehyun through the mirror, admiring the youthful makeup. Blushy cheeks and innocent eyes of two teenagers in love, masking the raw lust between two nemesi. It couldn’t stray any further from the truth.

A staff member leads both you and Jaehyun (who is refusing to spare even one look your way) back to the main set. The director is passionately explaining what he wants to see from you in your first scene, but you can barely focus with Jaehyun’s eyes burning holes through your school girl outfit. You block him out and walk inside the ‘classroom’, spotting the cameras and sitting on your designated seat, while you wait for your signal to start.

Of course, you had acted before. Yes, you had expected for the director to ask you for some more intimate moments with your co-star. But when Jaehyun passed you a “love note” from the desk in front of you, looking all blushy and shy and with his dimples showing, you felt that the role of crushing schoolgirl became a little too easy for you to act out.

And maybe, just maybe he was feeling the same way too. He looked pretty flustered when he saw you dancing across class, shifting restlessly in his seat when you bent forward to tie your shoelaces. Whether you did it on purpose or not, was a question your ego didn’t allow you to answer truthfully.

Most of the individual shots would be handled at a different shoot, so all you had to do was get over this one day with him. That’s what you repeated yourself over and over again. And you did pretty well, smiling charmingly at the camera, with the director praising you for your “innocent look”. You didn’t miss the scoff slipping from Jaehyun’s lips but you were good at ignoring it, focusing on getting through the different scenes in one-shot.

You were currently leaning your body against the wall, playing with your hair while Jaehyun glances down at you, like a boy that is ready to confess to his first love.

“y/n, I need you to give me something more shy, more bashful”, the director yells eagerly, but you can barely hear him, too focused on regulating your breathing. The look your co-star is giving you right now might seem loving and pure to the staff, but you know all too well the motives hidden behind his facade. It’s the calm before the storm, the silence he purposefully keeps to make you squirm, right before he whispers the most sinful propositions in your ears.

Reading him like an open book, you stand still as he leans closer, just enough so that no one besides you get to hear his words.

“Come on y/n, can’t you act bashful? Or is it impossible for you to get embarrassed after getting fucked against the window of a TV station’s building?”

Clearing your throat, you’re suddenly hyper aware of every single sound and movement in the room. Suffocating, even in the light clothes you were wearing, and desperately trying to mute out his words that bring you back to the day he was repenting.

“When you were pressed up against that glass, moaning my name, all exposed for anyone that simply looked up to see, you weren’t too shy, were you?”

You raise your palm to wipe a bead of sweat that has collected on your temple, and breathe deeply through your nose, as if a good pump of oxygen would cool off the sudden heat between your legs.

“Shut up Jaehyun”, you simply hiss through your front teeth, but he isn’t done yet.

“You know I can’t hold myself when I see you in skirts. So pretty. And you love to tease me in them too, I’ve noticed. Flashing me again and again until you get to suckle on my dick”

You were sure his voice was barely louder than a whisper, but the thought of anyone accidentally prying into your conversation had your whole body raising in temperature. The heat didn’t take long to reach your cheeks and you couldn’t remember the last time your legs felt like jelly, as they do now.

“Perfect y/n, that’s exactly what I’m looking for!”

You blinked back at Jaehyun a couple times, your mind trying to process that the director is cheering you on instead of scolding you to focus. The trembling hands, the fast-paced heartbeat, your big doe eyes. Though involuntarily, you had nailed the scene.

“You’re welcome”, Jaehyun mouths at you just as the staff announces a break. He scurries off to his dressing room without a word, as if he hadn’t just spewed his dirtiest of thoughts on set. It was almost as if he was daring you to follow him, but it’s not like he had left you a choice. You were fuming.

“Jaehyun”, you called out to him strictly but he didn’t acknowledge you, only walked further inside the small room with his name written neatly on the door. He was removing some of the heavier jewellery, rubbing the red lines they had left on his neck and wrist, momentarily catching your eyes on the mirror's reflection. They were misty, unreadable, and with how unpredictable you knew he could be, you decided to close the door behind you.

“Closing the door?”, he muses and in just a few long strides he has managed to trap you between his body and the wooden surface. It is reminiscent of your last meeting at the music show, and the memory of you tying him up doesn’t help with the organizing of your thoughts. “What are you planning on doing to me in here?”

You point one finger against his chest, not enough to create any real distance between you, but it comforts you nonetheless.

“What the fuck was that out there? What happened to professionalism?”

“Relax, kitty cat. I was just helping you act better”. His eyes stayed glued on your hips, once again making you all wound up and jumpy under his stare, “And it worked. You should be thanking me”

“I. Told. You.”, you started, tapping your finger on his sternum to emphasize each word, “Never call me that again. Today’s already hard as it is, why do you have to make it harder?”

He takes one more step towards you, his chest now touching yours and your hand that separated you lands involuntarily on his right peck. As if his presence wasn’t overwhelming enough, you feel a hardness pressing against your thigh, and for a moment you worry he can feel how wet you really are under your skirt. His voice is a low, a deep rumble.

“I don’t know. Why do you have to make everything so hard?”

“You are unbelievable”, you scowl at him and free yourself from his trap. You turn to the big mirror to avoid looking at him anymore, and you come to the embarrassing realization of how fucked out you look right now. You had to get out of there as soon as possible, before you do anything stupid and lose any trace of self control left in you. But not before you gave Jaehyun an earful.

“What I meant was that I am out there, being paid to be all lovey-dovey with you. This is not something easy for me you know. It’s basically prostitution.”

You catch Jaehyun’s eyes in his reflection, and for a fleeting moment they turn a colour that you hadn’t seen them in for a long time. Hurt? Disappointment? Whatever it was, it was gone in a second, replaced by that smile that made him both irresistibly smackable and fuckable at the same time.

“Did it cross your tiny brain that maybe someone could hear you? Staff leaks information all the time! If they found out we were fucking…”

“Were? Past tense?”

“Are. Will be. Whatever.” You sigh, defeated, hiding your eyes with your palms as you face him once again. “Like I said, this is important to me. So no more dirty talk on set. Okay?”

Jaehyun avoided your glance, from embarrassment or uninterest maybe. “Okay”

You continue to sit there silently, but your head is so occupied with a million thoughts that you don’t notice. How you will get through the rest of the shooting, whether your manager is looking for you or not, the coldness of the glass Jaehyun had pressed you against that day. The only thing that snapped you out of it, was him suddenly taking off his shirt.

“What are you doing?”, you ask panicking, but you can’t dismiss the pool of excitement in your belly.

“We have a wardrobe change after the break, remember? And since you refuse to leave my changing room..”

You clear your throat, trying your hardest to rip your eyes away from his abdomen, that you’ve so keenly marked with love bites before. His naked skin must have monopolized your attention way more than you realized, as you can’t remember when he slithered his way closer to you, towering over your height.

“Stare much?”, he almost growls, arousal dripping from his voice.

Every fiber of your being wanted to lurch forward, glide your fingers through his hair and start nibbling at those pretty lips of his. The sexual tension, amplified by the argument you just had, was filling the room like a thick liquid would fill a cup. One more drop, one more second of his staring and it would overflow. It felt so real, that you could feel that drop landing on your forehead. Then another one on your cheek, and that’s when you realized that what you felt was real.

“What the-?”, Jaehyun mumbles as he stares up at the ceiling, a big wet spot staining it and allowing the water drops to slowly wet his styled locks. As you start to put two and two together, someone knocks loudly on the door, making you both jump one feet away from the other.

“Get undressed”, a high-pitched male voice that you recognize as Jaehyun’s manager calls through the door, “the rain is ruining the set. It’s a wrap for today”

———————————————————————

A soft touch on your lower back, an even softer breath making your ears tingle. A tentative kiss on your neck that’s full of purpose and makes you shiver.

And then another touch, this time more south on your body. Fingertips grazing over your sensitive clit. Easily moving through your wetness and finally dipping inside of you. That baritone voice.

“This pussy is mine, isn’t it, kitty cat?”

You look up to meet the face of the familiar voice, only to meet Jaehyun’s baby brown eyes. The pleasure was enough to make you ignore the despised nickname, flowing intensely through your body. You let out a desperate moan, gripping his arms to keep your balance. His fingers are now dragging through your walls and you clench around them instinctively, confused but enamored by his touch. You are falling apart.

“Jaehyun? What are you doing?”

“I want to make love to you”

“Love? But you hate me”

He plants another kiss on the slope of your neck, his hands picking up in pace and making you feel like you’re floating on air.

“Love. Hate. Is there really any difference when I’m here, ready to please you? Willing to make you feel things you have never felt before?”

“You already do”, you admit, only seconds away from your orgasm. The bliss is so close you can almost taste it, but for now you choose to taste his lips. They are so soft and warm that you realize you haven’t kissed Jaehyun since that night at the practice room. How you miss him. Not the group visual, not the idol, not even Jaehyun. Yoonoh.

“Yoonoh”, you moan out against his lips as the pleasure overtakes you, a low buzz humming in your ears, “mmm yes, Yoonoh”

“Who the fuck is Yoonoh?”

You finally wake up, your manager shaking you awake being the first thing you see. The sun’s morning rays are peeking through your blinds, warming your skin in lines. Your phone’s ignored alarm clock is still buzzing on top of your nightstand.

“No one. I’m awake, thanks”

Fuck. That makes it what? The fourth night in a row you dreamt about him?

“Get, up. Quickly. We’re late”

You groaned at the banging of your head that was caused by you getting up so fast. It was early into the morning, as you had to get ready for the mv’s second shooting day. The heavy rainfall wouldn’t allow for the filming to continue for another week, yet aided your growing anxiety of having to encounter Yoon- Jaehyun again.

You felt a little stupid, like a kid that goes to middle school for the first time, anxious but full of butterflies in your stomach in the thought of seeing him again. You weren’t sure who the anger, that came with the inability to control the fresh feelings bubbling from your dream, should be directed at. Your manager for booking you this job? Jaehyun for making it his goal to have you dripping wet on set? You, for letting it all affect you so much?

You decide on the former, giving your poor manager the cold shower for forcing you to deal with the problems you’ve caused yourself. Checking your phone, you realise that you are, indeed, late, and wonder how quick you’re going to have to make your morning shower.

“Is Jaehyun and his team there already?”, you ask your manager as nonchalantly as you could, feigning mildly interested in his answer.

“Oh, they didn’t tell you? The other team asked for the shootings to continue separately”. You felt your stomach drop all the way down to your condo’s basement. And the icing on the cake: “Jung Jaehyun’s request”

Maybe your manager wasn’t as clueless to your electricity, or maybe it was your sudden impulse to pluck every loose thread of the pyjama top you were wearing that made him sense the discomfort following what he’d just said. He plops next to you on your bed, boards creaking in the silent room and you feel his rough hands patting you on the back.

“I’m sure he had an overlap in schedules and needed a break, nothing to do with you”

But you knew better, and you knew your palms wouldn’t stop itching unless you picked up your fucking phone and sent him a message.

you [06:30]: i heard you can’t make it to set today. everything ok?

You wish you never did. The radio silence from his number was way worse than any insult, any form of teasing he could give you on set. You even tried calling him, desperate for an answer, a closure even. Maybe he was busy. Maybe the shooting took longer than expected. Maybe he wasn’t avoiding you; one of his managers uploaded his latest story on his instagram, not him. Maybe at the end of the week he would get back to you.

------------------------------------------------------

Going to his dorm unannounced was not a good idea. Waiting for someone to open the door for you, you hope his members will recognise you from your trainee days, or those rare nights Jaehyun sneaked you in when you were both lonely and in need of a… well, whatever you two were.

You’re starting to worry that whoever saw you from the peephole thought you were a sasaeng and called security, when Mark opens the door. His eyes are wide open behind his glasses, clearly not expecting you and immediately yelling for his ‘Jaehyun hyung’.

Soon, the called male arrives at the apartment’s entrance, annoyed for being interrupted from whatever it was he was doing. “What is it, me and Jungwoo are watching the season fina-“

As if Mark suddenly turned invisible, Jaehyun walks right past him, grabbing you by the wrist and dragging you to his room without another word.

Jungwoo, engrossed with the aforementioned show’s season finale on his computer screen, tries to cover up his naked torso in panic when he notices you.

“Get out.”, Jaehyun orders him, and the younger man knows that his tone is not one to be argued with. It triggers the cold sweat that makes your clothes stick closer to your skin and forces your heartbeat to quicken, pumping blood all over your body. The door closes, leaving you both alone with only the sound of Jungwoo’s laptop still playing in the background. A lighthearted scene that is too oxymoronic against the tension that is just palpable at this point. What the hell were you thinking coming here?

“What the hell were you thinking coming here?”, Jaehyun speaks your thoughts out loud, and you wince at how empty your head is with excuses.

“Are you ignoring me?”

“What?”, he asks dumbly, hoping you would avoid asking again.

“Was it that hard to text me back? Am I such a waste of your time?”

Jaehyun seems angry at your confrontation, his bad mood escalating with every word that is leaving your mouth. He still avoids to look at you, toying with some plushies and decorations next to his bedpost. You realize you never had time to really notice them, barely recognizing them. You always entered the room blindly, pressed up against Jaehyun’s body and with his lips all over your neck, then left as soon as the sex was over. His apathy was infuriating.

One by one, you start to remove all of your outerwear, dropping your clothes on the floor until you’re left in only your bra and jeans. Jaehyun stares at you incredulously, then at the pile of clothes on the floor, unable to make out the reasoning behind your impromptu stripping.

“What are you doing?”

“Getting naked. Seems to be the only time you can actually pay attention to me.”

You reach for the buttons of your jeans, only able to unzip it halfway before Jaehyun has you pinned against the wall behind you, his fingers cool and pressing lightly against your neck.

“I-I fucking hate you!”, he cries, punching the surface to release some of the steam, and lets go of the hold on your neck almost completely. How tempted he is, to just fuck your right against that wall, pour out his anger by pouring out his cum inside you, then ignore each other like you always do.

It’s the easy thing to do, keeping the toxic circle going. All barking and fucking and no real problem gets resolved in the end. He wouldn’t even call a cab for you, preferring to be hated for something he wasn’t than to be rejected for showing the real him. You would still have no idea about his feelings towards you, going around saying how awful he was while asking for a round two. But Jaehyun was tired.

“Can’t you tell that I am trying to distance myself from you?”, he sighs and it’s the first time you’ve ever heard him sound so emotionally exhausted.

“Why do you dislike me so much? We used to be friends and then one day you-“

“Friends? Just friends?”, he interrupts you with a chuckle and a sarcastic puff through his nose, and you shake your head.

“If you also think that what we had was more special than a common friendship then why act like you don’t know me?”

“You were the one who wanted to ‘forget about anything happening and never telling a soul about it’, remember?”

“I thought we came to a mutual agreement! I was just trying to save our careers and it worked Jaehyun, you got to debut and I-“

“And you just threw away everything we had like it was the easiest thing to do! Do you ever want to know how I feel, y/n? First you want nothing to do with me, left the company without even saying goodbye. Then I try to forget about you, become an asshole to keep you out of my life and suddenly you want to jump my bones. One day you just play blind to everything, asking for professionalism and now I’m the one ignoring you? What the fuck do you want? A fuck buddy? A professional? A friend?”

“I want you, Yoonoh. Fuck, I just want you”

You’re not sure which one of you initiates the kiss. His lips are as plump and kissed as hard as you recalled, a couple of tears staining your cheeks that you didn’t realize you were holding back. It felt so right, the way his head pushed and pulled away from yours, always inviting you back to him. One hand was situated over the dimples of your waist, the other lost between your hair, untangling it gently. You decided to lay yours over his heart, feeling its tempo and calming yourself down.

You kiss for what seems like an eternity, so drunk in bliss that you can’t remember how you made it through life without Jaehyun’s taste all over your tongue. When he pulls away from your lips, you almost whine, but his fingertips dabbing at the soft skin of your cheeks feel just as comforting.

“I don’t want us to be like this anymore”, you whisper to him and he nods encouragingly, holding you even closer. “I’m sorry for not reaching out to you all these years ago, I just thought ‘What would a brand new idol want to do with a failed trainee like me’-“

Jaehyun brings your fingers to his lips, kissing all your knuckles one by one and you think you’re gonna burst at the seams. “You weren’t a failure, you were the best thing to happen to me back then”. His voice is so sincere that you don’t dare question the veracity of what he’s saying and you let him continue. “When I saw you again I was so bitter, I decided to turn off my feelings. I think I get too comfortable in that role. I put it on for me, my members, my fans even”, he stops then, laughing sadly, “it’s how I finally got you”

It was your turn to open up his eyes to the truth, holding his face between your hands and admiring its beauty.

“That’s not true. I kept staying because I knew what was hidden behind all that armor. I guess, the sex was the only way to get closer to you”

“Not because I’m good?”, he jokes, wiggling his eyebrows and you can feel his dimples forming under your fingers.

“Eh, you’re pretty good too”

He starts pecking your neck, his smile obvious in his kisses and you squeal when he lifts you to his bed. Bouncing on the hard mattress, you let him lay his body weight over yours as he gives you a million traces of his love.

“So, I’m guessing this means we start over?”, he asks reluctantly as he emerges from your half naked body and you hold back from cooing at him.

“I thought you loved to hate me?”

“I think I hate it, but I love you”

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