#i am seeing the fawking light

[heeslomll]

chelsea :(( my pretty kitty thank u sm !!! 🩷🩷🥺 i love you

kiss it off me — enha ot6 legal line foodplay !

cw: f!reader; 4nal, ass eating, temperature play, ice d1ldo, tit worship, possessive kink, cum eating, blah blah blah

a/n: for my freakhoonz OBVIOUSLY but most importantly for @heeslomll !!! congratulations on graduating nessa! i love you and i'll always be proud of you my sweet girl. twinz forever <3

this is in no way supposed to be an accurate portrayal of enhypen. minors dni, 18+ only.

heeseung

your boyfriend affectionately refers to your ass as his personal cake

and one day you're lounging in bed with him the AC isn't working; it's a hot ass day so both of you, of course, are naked and eating ice cream, giggling like kids up to no good

things start to get out of hand when heeseung shakes the can of whipped cream too hard and it gets everywhere, splattering your face in the process.

"hee!" you squeal, wrinkling your nose at him in half-serious disgust. "it's sticky!"

"sorry, baby. i'll clean you up, hold on." he takes his finger and swipes up the whipped cream that decorates your features, and you think he's going to either lick it off himself or feed it to you, but he does neither

with a mischievous glint in his eye he rubs it over your lips

"i'm still sticky," you whine

"sorry, here, i'll fix it," he says, giving you a kiss and licking the cream off your lips. he keeps his tongue poking out and licks all the way across your face. "mm, babe. you taste so good. just wanna eat you up."

flustered, you stutter out, "you can, if you want..."

"any part of you?"

"uh-huh," you answer, too fixated on his pretty features

"turn over, then, baby." heeseung makes you literally spread your ass open and for a moment you think he's going to eat your cunt from the back

but then you hear the sound of the whipped cream canister spraying, and then you feel the cold topping drip onto your puckered rim

and then you feel the familiar glide of heeseung’s rough tongue, although this time he’s not eating your pussy

but he does have two fingers fucking your hole open while he eats your ass

“want you to cum like this, baby. can you do that for me? please?”

you can’t do anything but obey; after all, your boyfriend treats you so well, all the time

the rest under the cut!

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jay

you’ve been wanting to ask your boyfriend if you can try ass play but you’re nervous

but also you just really really love him and you want to give him the honor of claiming your last untouched hole

so you when you bring it up, you also ask jay if you can do a shot of his expensive whiskey to help calm your nerves

and he’s like, “of course, darling, anything to help you feel good—but we don't have to do it if you’re not 100% sure about it.”

and you say, “no, i’m sure i want this, you know i just have a hard time relaxing…”

being the loving boyfriend who also loves to spoil you that he is, he gives in to your whims

but, also, jay being jay, obviously he isn’t going to just give you a glass with a shot of Suntory

he puts the shot in his mouth and then kisses you, spitting it into your mouth

and then repeats this a few more times until you feel the warm, dazed feeling of the alcohol buzz permeate through your insides

“‘m ready, daddy,” you murmur to him

“okay angel face, get on all fours for me, hm? face down, ass up, you know what to do.”

“yes, daddy,” you answer obediently

jay loves you like this: extra submissive and docile, not bratting out on him like you like to do

yeah he spits a little whiskey on the buttplug and then on your waiting hole to lube it up

“deep breaths for me, okay, princess? we can stop at any time.”

“no, daddy, want you to train me. wanna take your cock in my ass soon.”

“you’re such a good girl, aren’t you? hm? how does it feel, baby? tell daddy.”

“feels… ah! i feel so full.”

“you’re doing so well for me, baby. want my fingers, too? wanna be stuffed?”

that’s a rhetorical question. of course you do

jake

to get back at jake for him blindfolding you and making you ride his abs, you blindfold him this time

of course he’s all up for it

but what he doesn't know is that when you were out today

you picked up a box of your favorite donuts

which is your favorite treat

right after your boyfriend's big cock of course

you leave your blindfolded jakey in the bedroom, cock straining against his abs while you go to the kitchen to microwave the donuts until they're warm

and all the while he’s whining impatiently, “baaaaabe, come back” over and over again

when he hears your footsteps enter the room you see his cock twitch in anticipation

and it twitches again when he hears your mischievous giggle

“alright, jakey, no touching, okay? put your hands behind your head.”

he whimpers but does what you ask of him

and then you take his cock in your mouth, deepthroating him easily thanks to the countless times you've given him head over the years

he’s still whimpering, now with the addition of bucking his hips up trying to fuck your face even if you’re pushing him back down gently

you come off his cock with a pop! and reach for the box of donuts, pulling out a glazed ring and giggling to yourself again before sliding it onto his cock

“uh, babe? what’s that?”

“nothing, jakey, don’t worry about it,” you answer. “just a little treat for both of us. how does it feel?”

“warm… and sticky… kinda like you…”

“good.”

when he cries out that he’s about to cum

you stop sucking and use your sticky hand to jerk him off while you tongue at his balls

and jake cums all over your hand and it drips down onto the donut

you’re just as much of a freak as he is and you decide to eat it

with all the squirming he’s been doing, the blindfold falls off as you’re eating the donut

and he watches with his jaw practically on the floor as you do

you show him your empty mouth after you’re done: "look baby, all clean!"

his cock perks up again at the sight of you so happy, tummy full of sugar and his cum

sunghoon

he was fucking around trying to make popsicles and instead of being normal

he froze strawberries in WATER thinking that was a good idea

and you’re so annoyed with him bc wdym he froze your expensive japanese strawberries in water

he’s like “baby, i’m sorry, i’m sorry,” but you're just giving him the cold shoulder…

until he says he’ll make it up to you, which has you intrigued

because sunghoon has some very interesting ways of apologizing

of course he knows how to say sorry

verbally

but also with his cock, among other things he uses to make you feel good

this time it’s the fucking strawberry-water popsicle, with the promise that he won’t let your precious strawberries go to waste

he gets you spread open on the bed, teasing your cunt with the popsicle

you shiver at the contact, feeling it already start to thaw against your heated skin

you watch him with lust-filled eyes as he brings the popsicle to his mouth and suck on it, his pretty pink lips forming a perfect pout

and then

“fuck, hoonie!” you cry out as he nudges the tip of the popsicle into your waiting hole

he gives you a moment to adjust before he starts to fuck it into you, the coldness of the popsicle contrasting with the absolute heat rushing through your gummy, slick walls

“i’m really sorry, baby,” he says again

you literally couldn’t give less of a fuck about the strawberries at this point but you might as well use your earlier annoyance with him to your advantage

“want your cock, too, hoonie…”

he’s in no position to make you beg for it as he usually does

so he gives it to you, fucking you slow and deep for a few strokes before switching back to the popsicle

alternating between his warm skin and the melting ice has you close to the edge

but what makes you cum is when

he pulls the popsicle out of you and replaces it with his cock, thrusting into you down to the hilt while he takes a bite out of one of the strawberries

“mm,” he coos. “tastes way better like this, baby. wanna try?”

jungwon

having an innocent boyfriend has its perks

one of them being that he’s willing to try literally everything

so when you walk into the bedroom with a couple towels and a bottle of chocolate syrup

his eyeballs practically jump out of his head he’s so fucking excited

like what do you mean he gets to have his pretty girlfriend naked on the bed while he plays with her

he’s going to have wet dreams about this for weeks

but that’s for a different post, not this one

anyways

he straddles your waist and experimentally drips some syrup onto your tits

he’s learned to be a tease after being with you for some time now

so he completely skips your nipples, much to your dismay

they're hard and in his face so it's hard for him to not pay attention to them when he licks off the chocolate from your tits

you whine impatiently and he laughs under his breath before he indulges you

because he’s weak for you

and he spends what feels like hours just licking and sucking and biting at your nipples

moaning at the taste of the chocolate

moaning because your tits are in his mouth

moaning as his cock gets some friction against your smooth skin

you fucking cum just from him playing with your tits so passionately and intensely

like he is paying attention to them like he’s never seen them before in his life

and then just when you think he can’t surprise you any more

he cums, too

all over your stomach and underneath your tits

he rubs his cum on your nipples and licks it off with more chocolate syrup

neither of you can speak and the room is hot hot hot

and sticky

and honestly you should have known that your boyfriend had a little bit of a possessive streak when it comes to you

you’re hot as fuck and he wonders every day how he bagged you

regardless it makes your eyes roll back into your head when you manage to read what he’s written with his finger in a mix of chocolate syrup and his cum

right over your neglected cunt

property of yang jungwon.

sunoo

you're not as much of a sweets person as he is

but you love your boyfriend nonetheless

and you always want to indulge him no matter what

even if it includes him laying on you and getting the sugar dust of his gummy peach rings all over your skin

because, come on, you enjoy when he licks it off you

he always gets carried away

and blames it on the sugar high

but really he’s just horny

this time is no different

he has the neckline of your tank top pulled down to expose your tits to the cold room air

your nipples harden in excitement

and also to the sudden change in temperature

but mostly you’re excited because you love when he gets like this

it’s not very often when he’s catering to you and not the other way around

after all, your sunny baby is the brat in the relationship

moving on

you watch him intently as he sucks off the sugar from a peach ring

and then

places it over your nipple before admiring his work

it confuses you for a second and you almost get annoyed at him for making a sticky mess of you and not doing anything

both on your tits and in your panties

you look at him like ???

and he just fucking winks at you before ducking his head down to your tit

laving his tongue over your nipple, swirling it around the piece of candy and moaning

the vibration makes your back arch, pushing your tits even more into his face

he grabs your tit with his hand and squeezes it

and you don't notice until later but he uses his other hand to get his cock out

and push it inside you

cockwarming while he sucks on your sugar-coated nipples

moaning when you clench around him

which, in turn, makes you moan even louder

“you’re so sweet, lovely. just like candy.”

taglist: @karinasbaby @enha-stars @intromortal @heeslomll @venomhee @heeheeswifey

[lovingseventeen]

Hiii hope you're well 🫶🏼

I really really loved the svt doing your make up 🥺 honestly getting make up done is so relaxing and it can be so intimate (me when lol)

I have a suggestion for a svt reaction bec you see I have a thing for hands, like the hands are one of the first thing I notice about a person so I wonder how svt would react to their s/o randomly grabbing their had and kissing it 🥹

randomly kissing svt’s hands 🫶🏽

a/n: HI ANON i LOVE this request omggg. i have so many things queued but i HAD to write this rn rn

edit: i’m literally biting my lip as i write this bc FAWK this is such a cute idea i need all of these men’s hands in marriage rn

seungcheol:

❥ he loves holding hands so he doesn’t question when you grab his hand

❥ he’s about to lace his fingers with yours when he feels you bringing his hand up to your face to kiss it

❥ but he does malfunction a little bit because his brain is thinking: wait i’m supposed to do that to you

jeonghan:

❥ you can hear his typical “ayy” as he watches you

❥ he won’t admit that he’s a little flustered

❥ you only find out that he is when he tucks his hair behind his ear and you notice that the tips of his ears are pink

joshua:

❥ watches you with the most endearing smile

❥ lets you do you what you want but still leans in close to your face and asks, “what’s this for pretty baby, hm?” AAAAAAAA

jun:

❥ so so confused but he doesn’t pull his hand from you (because he never would)

❥ “what’s this?” he asks as you’re bringing his hand up

❥ “mm, nothing babe” you hum, placing a light kiss to the back of his hand

❥ “oh, okay?” he replies, pink dusting his cheeks

hoshi:

❥ LOVES IT

❥ blushing so bad but he isn’t even embarrassed

❥ goes “oo” as your lips make contact with his skin

❥ “does this mean you have a crush on me?” he jokes, making you drop his hand and smack his arm

❥ but ofc he catches your wrist and pulls you into him so he can properly kiss you

wonwoo:

❥ you could do anything to him and he’d go with it

❥ smiles as you kiss his knuckles

❥ he might not comment on it but he’ll give you a few extra kisses that day

jihoon:

❥ you were chilling with him in the studio as he was going over his work

❥ without thinking about it too much, you took his hand to give it a little kiss which grabs his attention

❥ he hums in surprise and he’s so flustered that he’s immediately asking “am i not giving you enough attention today? i’m sorry baby give me a minute-” as he’s already starting to close some tabs on his desktop

❥ “oh, no! jihoon, i just felt like doing it!” you quickly explained, but he’s still closing off his things

❥ “i’ve done enough work today anyways” he decides, assuring you

minghao:

❥ so so giggly as the slight foreign feeling of your lips brushing against his hand

❥ so smiley even as he’s asking “what’s this? you don’t usually do this”

❥ hair ruffle right after you do it

mingyu:

❥ you tease him a little as you run your thumb over his knuckles

❥ he’s wondering what you’re doing but it’s also not entirely new

❥ it’s when you’re lifting his hand that he’s already blushing because there’s no way you’re about to do what he’s thinking

❥ “what’re you doing? baby, what’s this?” right as you hold eye contact and kiss his hand

❥ for a pretty big and buff man, he feels like putty in your touch, he’s covering his face with his free hand because he can’t even look at you with how pink he’s getting

❥ “so i can’t even kiss my boyfriend’s hand?” you tease

❥ “not when it makes me like this!” he whines (definitely do this to him again)

seokmin:

❥ you couldn’t help but kiss his hands god they’re so pretty AAAAAA

❥ for seokmin, you took both of his hands in yours, making him raise his eyebrows, “oh?”

❥ casually, you place on kiss to his left, then one to his right and his eyes follow your ministrations

❥ best believe his heart is hammering and he’s blushing madly

❥ “do you have any idea what you do to me?” he asks, swearing that he’s falling even harder when you coyly shake your head no

seungkwan:

❥ you kind of adored him when he was in a state of rambling about his day, even when he was tutting about the member teasing him but especially when you could tell that he felt like he did well. you were watching him from your couch as he paced your living room

❥ but there’s a moment when his eyebrows are furrowed because he’s talking about this dance move that he’s supposed to do on top of singing something quite difficult

❥ “it’s supposed to go something like this..” he murmurs slowly walking you through the dance steps, quirking his head as he wonders how he’ll do it

❥ he plops down onto the couch next to you when he’s finished walking you (and himself) through the whole chorus, leaning his head back. “i just don’t know how-”

❥ you take his hand because he’s so clearly stressed and place a kiss to it. his words stop as his face heats up from the sudden gesture

❥ “why all of a sudden?” he murmurs, looking away from you because you caught his so off guard

❥ “because my baby’s so stressed and i know you want to avoid getting wrinkles” you chuckle

vernon:

❥ also so chill with it — would also probably let you do anything to him

❥ a small smile as you randomly kiss his hand

❥ “this is new” he observes, smiling wider when you giggle

❥ “just felt like it, why, is it weird?”

❥ he shakes his head, “no, not at all”

chan:

❥ “w-what, what is this?” he’s mumbling as you unexpectedly take his hand and kiss it

❥ “just wanted to give you a kiss” you reply simply

❥ he’s so pink but he’s trying to quickly think of a way to recover

❥ “well, why don’t you give me a real one” he decides, surprising you by pulling you into him by your waist

[roseyreveries]

Far Away - 9

Draco Malfoy x Fem!Muggle!Reader Previous Part <- click! Summary: You wake up inside the Harry Potter universe without any explanation as to why you're there. Disclaimer: All characters are being aged up for PLOT (1st years are 15, 7th years are 21) but characters may act immature and childish in the beginning at times to keep their character development. Not accurate to the books or movies. CW: dumbledore being a bitch Directory <- click!

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The door to Dumbledore’s office creaked open, revealing the warm, golden glow of flickering candlelight and the soft hum of enchanted instruments lining the shelves. I hesitated on the threshold, my fists clenched at my sides. I was so frustrated, so tired of holding it all in, that I barely noticed the moving portraits on the walls or the soft chirp of Fawkes from his perch.

Dumbledore looked up from his desk, his half-moon glasses glinting in the light. “Ah, Miss Thunderbrooke,” he said warmly, gesturing for me to come in. “What brings you here at this late hour?”

I stepped inside, my heart pounding with a mix of anger and nerves. “I need to talk to you,” I said, my voice sharper than I intended. “It’s about Malfoy.”

Dumbledore’s expression didn’t change, but there was a knowing glint in his eyes as he nodded. “I see. Please, have a seat.”

I dropped into the chair across from his desk, my hands gripping the arms tightly. “I can’t do this anymore,” I said, the words tumbling out in a rush. “He’s awful— arrogant, rude, impossible to work with. He goes out of his way to make my life miserable. I don’t understand why I have to be around him all the time.”

Dumbledore leaned back slightly, steepling his fingers. “Go on.”

“I’m in every single one of his classes,” I continued, my frustration bubbling over. “We’re always paired up for assignments, and I have to live in the same house as him. I can’t get away from him! Please, can’t you… I don’t know, change my classes? Or move me to a different house? I’ll even go to Hufflepuff, I don’t care!”

Dumbledore’s lips twitched, as though suppressing a smile, but his tone remained calm. “I’m afraid that won’t be possible.”

I stared at him, my anger flaring. “Why not? You’re the headmaster. You can do anything.”

He adjusted his glasses, his gaze steady. “Because, Miss Thunderbrooke, your placement in Slytherin— and in those specific classes— was not an accident. It was intentional.”

My breath caught, my frustration giving way to confusion. “What do you mean?”

“When you first arrived,” Dumbledore began, his tone patient, “I asked the Sorting Hat to place you where you would be most effective in fulfilling your purpose here.”

“My purpose?” I repeated, my voice rising. “You mean this stupid prophecy? What does that have to do with Malfoy?”

Dumbledore’s expression softened, but there was a seriousness in his eyes that made my stomach twist. “You were brought here, Miss Thundebrooke, because of him.”

The room seemed to tilt for a moment, the weight of his words sinking in. “Because of Malfoy?” I echoed, disbelief and anger swirling together. “You’re saying I’m here to… to help him?”

“Precisely,” Dumbledore said, his tone gentle but firm.

I let out a bitter laugh, shaking my head. “You’re joking. Please tell me you’re joking. He doesn’t even like me! He hates me! And frankly, the feeling is mutual.”

“That may be so,” Dumbledore said, inclining his head. “But that does not change the fact that you are here for a reason. And that reason involves Mr. Malfoy.”

“Why?” I demanded, my voice cracking. “Why him? What am I supposed to do?”

“That,” Dumbledore said, his gaze growing distant, “is something you must discover for yourself.”

My frustration boiled over, and I shot to my feet, my hands slamming onto the desk. “I can’t work with him! I can’t even stand to be in the same room as him. He’s a spoiled, self-absorbed—”

“Miss Thunderbrooke,” Dumbledore interrupted, his tone firm but not unkind. “I understand your frustration. I truly do. But part of your journey here is learning to see beyond the surface.”

I faltered, my breath coming in sharp bursts as I stared at him. “What does that even mean?”

“It means,” Dumbledore said softly, “that there is more to Mr. Malfoy than you currently understand. And to fulfill your purpose, you must first learn to understand him.”

My legs felt shaky as I sank back into the chair, my head spinning. “You’re asking me to… what? Be friends with him?”

“I am asking you,” Dumbledore said, his eyes twinkling faintly, “to approach him with patience. Kindness, even.”

I let out a shaky laugh, my voice tinged with disbelief. “You’re asking the impossible.”

“Not impossible,” Dumbledore said with a small smile. “Difficult, perhaps. But I have faith in you.”

I stared at him, my chest tight with frustration and helplessness. “And if I can’t?”

“You can,” Dumbledore said simply, his tone leaving no room for doubt. “And you will. You were chosen for a reason, Miss Thunderbrooke. Even if that reason is not yet clear.”

I slumped back in my chair, feeling more defeated than when I’d walked in. “So that’s it? I just have to… deal with him?”

“I believe you’ll find,” Dumbledore said gently, “that once you set aside your differences, there is more to Mr. Malfoy than meets the eye.”

I clenched my fists, my teeth grinding together. I wanted to argue, to demand more answers, but I could see it in his expression— this was all I was going to get.

Finally, I let out a resigned sigh. “Fine. I’ll… try.”

“Good,” Dumbledore said, his smile widening slightly. “That is all I ask.”

I stood, my movements stiff with frustration. “If he continues being an asshole, I'm coming back.”

“I would expect nothing less,” Dumbledore said, his tone amused.

I turned on my heel, storming out of the office and slamming the door behind me. As I marched back to the Slytherin common room, my mind buzzed with frustration and questions.

Why Malfoy? What does Dumbledore expect me to do?

But most of all, I wondered if I’d ever find the answers I was looking for— or if I was doomed to spend the rest of my time at Hogwarts trapped in Malfoy’s orbit.

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Read the next part here! Join my Taglist! @ferntv @Katie_kinz @malfoy-mrsdracomalfoy @rea-the-person @strbrrylmnadee

[snapeaddict]

Snapetober Day 17 - Apple

Loosely referencing previous snippets - a tradition of apple harvesting, and my own headcanon that Severus is a wonderful cook and baker.

Minerva had dropped by unexpectantly, a matter of paperwork which had rapidly transformed into idle chatter. She was still here when Severus knocked on the door for their traditional Saturday game of chess: not that it was unusual for her to join them, but she had originally planned an afternoon of marking.

"Ah, Severus, please come in", Albus said warmly, gesturing towards his usual seat.

It was a gorgeous afternoon in June, and the window, beside his desk, was wide open. Outside Fawkes was flying happily, using the light breeze to carry himself for a while, then flying back to an acceptable height and repeating the process. Severus closed the door behind him. He was carrying something with his left hand - Minerva raised an eyebrow.

"What do you have here, my boy?" the headmaster asked, half-rising to clear some space on his desk.

It proved to be difficult: many parchment scrolls fell on the floor, and only Minerva's quick reflexes avoided a catastrophe of spilt ink.

"You know tidying up is an option, right, Albus?" she asked, getting up to put a set of quills away.

"Don't bother, Minerva," Severus replied drily. "Such activity is apparently beyond the headmaster's capabilities."

He put down his burden onto the desk. It looked like a tart mould covered with a white cloth.

"This smells divine", Albus said, purposely changing the subject. "Did you bake for us, Severus?"

Minerva rolled her eyes and cleared the reminder of the desk with her wand.

"An apple pie. There were some fruits left in the cellars - I needed a break from the dunderheads' exams. You would not believe the number of spelling mistakes this year…"

"Why do you think I am here?" Minerva interrupted jokingly.

Gently, Albus put away the cloth, revealing a beautiful, golden pie. It was elegantly ornated with braids of puff pastry, and both Gryffindors could not help but exclaim in admiration.

"Severus! You must really cook for us more often. You know how much I love your cuisine - your apple pies are a particular favourite of mine."

"You do not pay me nearly enough for me to cook on top of teaching, Albus", the younger man replied ironically, but Minerva discerned a slight blush on his cheeks.

She smiled, taking her eyes off him before he would notice her.

"And why were you in the cellars?" she asked, summoning three plates, a knife and a pie server.

"I was attempting to finish my lunch without the house elves pestering me."

"Do not be so hard on them, Severus. They are merely happy to see you eat."

The headmaster set out to cut the pie, and Minerva watched as their younger colleague made no reply. Albus, clearly, was completely oblivious to Severus' obvious lie.

The man rarely baked, and when he did, it was always when prompted to by Albus - he brewed to clear his mind, he did not cook.

She whispered her thanks when the headmaster handed her a plate with a neatly cut slice of pie and lifted her cup of tea to her lips. From the corner of her eye, she watched as Severus glanced rapidly at the headmaster, an almost imperceptible look of contentment gracing his face when the old man let out another expression of delight.

The pie was, indeed, delicious.

Sitting back in her chair comfortably, she gazed at Fawkes who was flying once more towards the sun, purposely breaking a formation of wild geese in the process. Would Albus think this was perfectly innocent?

Sometimes, too, her eyes drifted to the calendar pinned to the wall next to the window and she smiled quietly to herself - it was Father's Day.

---

Written in response to this amazing prompt by anon:

[themediummultiverseau]

Sorry I put the question in the wrong place before. What were the ghosts favorite holiday when they were alive?

(pretty sure you put it in the right place before! dont worry haha)

dream - i never really paid much attention to holidays, but there were some people in the village celebrated something they called "Litha," id see them light bonfires and dance, flowers woven into hair or fur, and i just remembered they looked so pretty and like they were actually having fun, but i dared not join in, not after my brothers death...

Dust - New years, i always saw it as a time to improve myself....make a new start and leave it all behind. Of course, that never happened, im such a failure, i could never improve

Killer - i was never raised very religious, but mum was, so i guess Eid ul-Fitr. We always had great sweets and i remember putting up pretty decorations, it always looked pretty and i just remember it being like, so cool

Horror - Christmas, spending time with my family and cooking a huge meal for them all to enjoy? Right up my alley! I always hosted, pretty much every year, and seeing the joy on my siblings face at the food that was so limited dressed up to be a meal fit for a king... It was just perfect!

Nightmare - I was always fond of All Hallows Eve. Once, i dressed myself up to be seen as a demonic spirit to scare some villagers scream, i can still see the look on their faces all these years later, and i could help those who were kind to me when they came to my door for offerings, of course, i couldnt let them know thats what i was doing. I did always enjoyed apple bobbing too... That always upset mother haha, something about it "disgracing our souls," never cared much myself honestly.

Ink - oh, huh? Holidays? uhhh, i dont know... Oh! Guy Fawks - Bonfire Night! I always made the guy to put on the bonfire, and fireworks are pretty too! Great to paint, and pretty simple haha! (Nightmare looks on in horror)

Error - Bah humbug - (Its christmas; he likes spending time with family, even if he doesnt want to admit it)

Geno - oh, i always liked boxing day, christmas was always so hectic, and the next day you got to just sit around and eat leftovers! I liked halloween too, we always went to the graveyard and lit candles for the graves, i always liked doing that.

Cross - ...Would it be silly to say St. George's Day? I grew up on those stories, and wanted to be like him when i grew up, a strong and noble soldier...

Lust - Valentines..... ( he used to give out wild flowers he picked to people on the streets as gifts, but he never found anyone who'd give one back...now he never will.)

Sans - not a ghost, but i think you can guess... (its april fools)

I really wanted to put a variety of holidays in here, but i myself am pagan and brought up in a mostly christian country, so if i messed up with anything, im sorry, it was not my intention - also, i put a bunch of holidays that are only celebrated over here in the uk, i didnt really think about it, and now there here - this au is mostly based on british history, because thats what im familiar with, and most of my historical knowledge is just from my own head, but theyre not really british, they live in some weird world that doesnt really exist so idk, think what you will haha

ii was not sure what i wanted to draw here, and it ended up being nothing - but theres a change i might add some at a later date)

Thank you for your support decadentroadmakerturtle, it means the world! :)

[tinogiehd]

they’ve never had a single nuanced critical thought in their lives and they are incapable of understanding the concept of personal discomfort or simply disliking something. to them they live with the black and white twitter mentality that everything is absolutely wrong or absolutely right with no room for ideas being able to coexist simultaneously. they are incapable of processing that they can personally be uncomfortable with something without it being a moral absolute for everyone to follow. they think everything they personally dislike or find uncomfortable has to be justified with being a crime or being completely morally bankrupt. and then their alleged morality and the hills they die on are hypocritical as fuck and just show they have no true backbone and only bend to whatever their mob mentality echo chamber is saying the loudest that week. you see it in them armchair diagnosing tubbo, a STRANGER to them, with autism and when he says he is not autistic, claiming that anybody calling them out is ableist and implying being autistic is inherently bad. you see it in the way their viewpoints flip from week to week. one day dream announces lore that has been planned for months so they create a hashtag against it in response, and later they flip the narrative and claim the lore was damage control in response to the hashtag. one day tommy is a silly child who is incapable of thinking for himself and is being victimized without knowing, the next he’s so strong and they’re glad to see how much he’s grown into an adult. at the end of the day most of what they do and say is simply meant to frame dream in the worst light possible and they finally have something they can use as justification for his permanent condemnation. they’re incapable of just being able to say they dislike something without a moral justification or without claiming something criminal has occurred, so in an attempt at performative activism and claiming they care about victims they use accounts they claim to care about and exploit them to push their own personal agendas and in the process trigger countless people whose voices they refuse to listen to because they do not value any voices that do not agree with them. nothing they say or do has value anywhere but the internet where nobody but their mutual circles will cheer them on. like actually go outside and experience real life i am so fucking serious.

the day that these people understand that things rarely RARELY exist in black and white is the day that I can breathe again. it’s so fucking unhealthy to view everything in either the worst possible light or one that absolves somebody of every trace of wrongdoing. you are ALLOWED to dislike somebody without it being an objective issue of morality. you can be personally uncomfortable with situations or comments made or past political views without projecting your discomfort onto everyone else and presenting it as an objective right and wrong- because it isn’t in 99% of cases. nobody owes you a certain belief just because you have it and you cannot demand somebody see the world through your eyes. that’s just not how things work. and it becomes so painfully clear that morality is a front when you can set it aside because your fav isn’t abiding by the standards that you’ve so deliberately set. 

the echo chamber is so crazy to me, like what the fuck gives you the right to armchair diagnose somebody you’ve never and will never meet with autism, and then call people ableist for taking issue with that. people should be taking fucking issue with that. and the stupid fucking damage control narrative like we have SEEN dream’s damage control play out before, like the january dreamxd lore stream and geoguessr. we have seen examples of it being immediate and poorly planned, usually panic responses to a horrifying situation- which is also what october was. pretending like a lore ending that has publicly been in the works for fawking months was damage control- multiple weeks after the fact- is delusional. i’m sorry. and there’s only so much wiggle room you can give your ccs if you genuinely believe that dream is a criminal or predator. tommy is not a victim or too young to understand; he is an adult surrounded by adults who have been in proximity to predators before and have proven themselves capable of publicly cutting ties with them (cmc). instead of facing the fact that tommy’s morality does not allign with their own, they found a way to use it to once again present dream in the worst possible way because god forbid they accept that nobody fawking cares. 

touch grass. die, maybe. go volunteer at an animal shelter. do something useful with your lives instead of harassing ccs with immensely triggering topics or spinning a narrative about dream being a master manipulator that your ccs clearly disagree with in an effort to protect them from yourselves and your own narrow-minded agenda. 

[from-ultra-space]

escape. bright lights. escape. 0-4-6-9-10-13. and the last... he was, he was... scales. broken lights. stained walls. ruins of what was. and... and... red. dark. corrupted. the same gem from before. Sorry. The lab has been more clear than ever as of late. I remember that it was located somewhere in New York City... but that's about all. I keep thinking about 6 numbers in sequence, but what does it mean? I'll know eventually, I'm sure. I had the strangest feeling when I was exploring a lab yesterday. I saw an image of a Koraidon, and although I had never heard of this thing before being told about its name, it felt so... familiar. what was that lab, anyway? i remember taking a short trip to poni island to sightsee with the only person i remember from before, and he took me to a lab with strange robots and ancient-looking pokémon. what did it all mean? Anyway, I've been sorting through some of your own data files out of pure curiosity to see if any of it sparked a memory (nothing classified or confidential- your team made sure of that) and found something I recognized

It was a name- Daniel Fawkes. I don't recall everything about him, but I know he's the one I went to sightsee with. although, strangely, he felt different than the last we spoke, as if he was a different person entirely. he seemed to remember nothing of Raptor or B-13. not that I knew what that last thing was, anyway, but still, strange...

That's... about all. I'll let you know if anything else comes back, but for now... I'll see you again soon. -Andrew

0-4-6-9-10-13? And a red gem? I am unsure what most of it means but we can start with what we do know. The strange pokemon you saw on Poni Island have to be the Paradox Pokemon I keep hearing so much about. Koraidon is one of them (and maybe a few other things. Then there’s Fawkes-) and it might be a good lead. In the meantime I will run the numbers through a few different through some sources although I doubt anything will come of it. I might… sort my files too. Just in case.

[offsidekineticist]

I see Theo lugging around a copy of one of his favorite books as a kid, mysteriously finding it in the ashes of Kenabras. It's always his favorite, no matter the timeline he's in.

Ooh, I hadn't thought about it before, but it fits so well, especially with his "Someone else is the KC" timeline, that I was almost immediately able to say what book it was, so I'm gonna call that a 10/10

(Also I am so sorry for the novel length rambling that this spawned.)

CW: fratricide, abandonment issues, book burning, and the rise of a repressive regime

It was a heretical children's book about the death of Ihys, Asmodeus's elder brother. Without getting too deep into it, Ihys and Asmodeus had a war over free will (Ihys thought it was cool, Asmodeus not so much), pretty much all the gods got dragged into it, etc. It ends when Asmodeus and Ihys meet to talk, and Asmodeus extends his hand in friendship before running Ihys through with his spear. Then, having won the war, Asmodeus decided to pretend he lost the war and retreated to hell for...reasons (the explanation varies by source)

So Theo's favorite book tells this story, and it was written by a particularly radical (and subsequently excommunicated) priest of Sarenrae (arguably Ihys's successor the way Iomedae is Aroden's successor). It's heretical because it suggests that Asmodeus did not intend to kill Ihys, only maim him so that he had to surrender. The book further posits that Asmodeus allowed free will to stand because once Ihys died, free will was essentially his legacy - if free will was done away with, nobody would have reason to remember him, and Asmodeus couldn't have that because he loved his brother. The conclusion, of course, is that everyone, even the most wicked of devils, has some goodness in them. (Note that Sarenrae maintains Asmodeus retreated because she kicked the shit out of him for killing her mentor in a cowardly betrayal, and that she also thinks Asmodeus is too far gone for redemption, so the church of Sarenrae reeeeeeeally isn't a fan of this book, lol)

Why is this Theo's favorite? Well, he found it for the first time about a year after moving to Brastlewark, so it might have something to do with how his fear of abandonment made him assume Regill was only his friend out of convenience and would leave him as soon as he had the opportunity. Ihys was an example of someone in what Theo saw as a similar position who didn't let that get in the way of his duty to his younger brother. And the idea that Asmodeus might actually still love Ihys gave Theo some hope that maybe Regill did love him on some level, even though he was going to leave him.

(6-year-old Regill, btw, hated the book bc the pictures of devils gave him nightmares, and the ending made him cry. Don't bother asking him about it, he will deny this to his dying day.)

Fast forward 30 years. The Thrunes have taken over Cheliax and the Order of the Rack is burning books across the country. Brastlewark is shielded from the worst of Thrune's atrocities because...uh...I think the gnomes scare them? But the king of Brastlewark is firmly in Thrune's pocket, so I headcanon Brastlewark still has book burning, they just conduct it more like Guy Fawkes Day. And of course, one of the first books to go on the pyre is this heretical children's book. If Theoven isn't the Knight-Commander, he's right there: he's a librarian - he manages the public repository of books, specifically the children's books. Which means that, because the Order of the Rack isn't managing these pyres, part of his job is collecting the books and lighting the pyre. And, obviously, refusing is not an option.

And it's there, burning his favorite book, committing an anathema against his mother's favorite god, estranged from his brother who helped bring this world about, watching his father and neighbors happily enjoying "the festival," that Theoven Derenge begins to lose his battle with the bleaching.

[jaeyunverse]

SAGE OMGHFIFJFI i wasn’t even logged in but i read your heeseung badboy fic and then mid way i legit had to log in cos i realised i was reading my favourite fic AND UR PROBABLT GONNA THINK IM EXAGGERATING but i always have these fics that are my NUMBER ONES and then i aspire for my writing to like move or inspire someone the same way it did for me ?? if you get what i mean like for instance idk if you read it but hyuckiebabie (deactivated now) had those jeno fics “ride or die” and they moved me so much that i created a tumblr 😁 but legit i felt the same thing again when i read your fic and ITS NOT COS RHWYRE BOTH STREETRACER AUS i just loved the level of writing that you write at, it’s so sophisticated and flows so nicely i sctuallt can’t stop thinking ab it AND IDK U PORTRAYED HEESEUNG IN A PERFECT WAY LIKE I AM SOOO BIAS WRECKED RNNNN MAN THANK U DONT DWLEYE IT EVER 😓😓

OH MY GODDDDD U HAVE NO IDEA THE THINGS U HAVE MADE ME FEEL W UR ASK AND REBLOG 😭😭😭😭 i saw both while i was travelling and i literally could not wait to get to the hotel so i could reply 🥹 FAVOURITE FIC ARE U SHITTING ME RN WHAT THE FAWK i am genuinely so so grateful and honoured!!! ☹️💗 i don’t have words to convery the tornado of emotions i’m feeling rn :( always been you was my first ever long fic and it makes me incredibly happy to know ppl enjoy my baby tumblrina works 😭 YESYES i get what u mean!! :’) AND U FELT THE SAME THING WITH MY FIC............

SHUT THE FUCJ UP NO ONE HAS EVER SAID THAT TO ME BEFORE WHAT THE HELLLLLL I AM GOING TO DIEEEEEE THAT IS SO SWEET OF U 🥹🥹🥹🥹☹️☹️☹️☹️💗💗💗💗🫂🫂🫂🫂 btw!!! i saw in ur reblog u wanna write a street racer au I AM BEGGING U PLEASE DO!!! the plot of this fic didn’t revolve around street racing but the THINGS i would do to see someone else do a racer!au 🤲🤲 i have a sunghoon racer!au wip so we’ll be matchy matchy YAYAYAYAY (even tho mine prob won’t ever see the light of day🧎‍♀️)

i wanna thank u again for taking the time to read my fic, reblog it with feedback AND send an ask ???? DOING THE MOST i am extremely grateful ☹️💌 hugs and kisses <33

[frambiti]

WORST KPOP SONGS OF THE YEAR LFGGG

moonlight sunrise - literally no one who sung the chorus could sing like can we be serious please

sugar rush ride - what an evil, despicable chorus

fighting - how you have dk seungkwan and hoshi in a unit and then give them this god awful song?

flower - i cannot believe we waited like 5 years for this ugly song yg you’re SICK

golden hour - he looked good in the mv and that’s all i can say about that.

super - turn this shit OFFFF

unforgiven - zero creativity or passion was put into this song like damn

queencard - girls pls stop embarrassing ur fans

bite me - such an evil group like the negative energy stemming from their songs is overwhelming

one and only - you will never be gowon. ever.

bouncy - i was at a red light while mingi’s rap came on and everyone around me rolled their windows up

shhh - ugly ass chorus omg

do not touch - see this was just a crazy thing for jyp to do because none of these girls can sing. like that’s really insane

cake - i think itzy should go on hiatus for a while

fast forward - the katy perry sample??? u cannot be fr

baggy jeans - taeyong get the FAWK off my screen

siren - shotaro i am sorry.

agassy - soojin wtf is this

batter up - i’m blowing up the yg headquarters

[countenanceblog]

Chapter 45

Chapter 45

The throne room of Donaven Vex was a sight to behold. It was vast and opulent, adorned with grandeur and extravagance. Black pillars reached up towards the forty-foot ceiling. Artificial waterfalls cascaded down from the sides of the room, their waters illuminated by green lights that gave the whole chamber an ethereal glow.

Seated at the center of it all was Donaven Vex himself, perched on a magnificent throne made entirely of purple crystal. His presence commanded authority, and his piercing gaze seemed to see through anyone who dared to meet his eyes. His strange appearance was marked by a pair of striking green eyes that seemed to glint with an otherworldly energy. His skin had an ethereal pale glow, almost as if he were not entirely human.

As Francisco Lobo, Aleister Fawkes, Gwyneth Campbell, and Wayne Caulfield entered the throne room, they were struck by the sensation of . . . gravity.

Wayne was the first to break the silence, striding forward with a swagger that matched his self-centered personality. "Donaven Vex, pleasure to meet you, big man," he said, his tone bordering on arrogance.

Aleister, cool and composed as always, followed Wayne's lead with a nod of acknowledgment. "Aleister Fawkes, at your service," he said.

Gwyneth stepped forward, her clothes still red, unyielding in her determination. "Gwyneth Campbell," she stated firmly. "We're here for business."

"And you," said Vex as he indicated Francisco. "You I remember as the Wolf. Does that hold true?"

Francisco bowed. "My lord, you gave me that name."

Vex leaned forward in his seat. "And why did I give you that name? Have you explained it to your friends?"

"No, my lord," said an implacable Francisco.

Vex nodded. "Interesting." He eyed Gwyneth. "What sort of business to you intend to conduct here?"

Gwyneth piped up. "Information for information. We know some of the players in the game, with regard to the earthquake, and Raj Dubey. We need your help locating a man named Herringbone, in exchange."

"If Herringbone wanted to save you," said Vex, "he would have found you himself. Whatever he knows," the kingpin intoned, "he tells me about it too. And he knows more than any of you. For instance, do you know that you and all your friends have already replaced David Griffith and Nemo Davis on the most wanted list as of five minutes before you came in? No, I will remain, where others have fallen. You have nothing of value to tell me." Francisco was crestfallen. Gwyneth lowered her hands.

Wayne said, "What are you going to do with us, then?"

Vex frowned. "There is nowhere to run, there is nowhere to hide. Your strength must come from your own power. That is my advice to the four of you."

Francisco piped up. "You wouldn't be sitting on that throne if it weren't for me, Donaven. It behooves you to adhere to the codes. You made me yourself."

Vex's expression darkened at Francisco's words, but he remained composed. "You speak the truth, Francisco. And for that, I am willing to offer you a choice," he said, his voice low and dangerous. "You can walk away from this meeting with your lives, or you can test your mettle against me in a duel. If you win, you may have the information you seek."

Aleister, always the cool-headed one, stepped forward. "And what if we refuse both options?" he asked, his eyes fixed on Vex.

"Then you will have to face the consequences of crossing me," Vex replied cryptically.

Gwyneth squared her shoulders, undeterred by the threat. "We didn't come all this way to back down now," she said defiantly.

Vex's lips curled into a faint smile. "Very well," he said, standing up from his crystal throne. "Prepare yourselves, then. If you wish to face me, be ready to fight with everything you've got. Who do you nominate?"

Before anyone else could react, Aleister said, "Me."

Suddenly the heavy doors of the throne room opened. The man who entered the scene was dressed in gray finery, and wore a red demon mask. Vex reeled; and then began to laugh after his own twisted fashion.

"To what do I owe the pleasure?," he asked the masked man. Francisco's eyes went wide.

"You!," said Francisco, pointing at the masked man. "You're the one who saved me, years ago."

"Indeed I am," said the man. He was speaking through some kind of voice scrambler, and it sounded like he had a tracheotomy. "You can call me Herringbone. And Vex, you're in no shape to duel that boy."

Vex's amusement subsided, replaced by a steely glare directed at Herringbone. "You dare to interfere in my affairs?" he growled.

Herringbone didn't flinch, his masked face unreadable. "I dare plenty, Vex. And I have a vested interest in the well-being of these individuals," he said, motioning towards Francisco, Aleister, Gwyneth, and Wayne. "They have potential, and they're part of a much larger plan."

Francisco stepped forward, his expression a mix of gratitude and confusion. "You saved me back then. Why? And why help us now?"

Herringbone's voice remained cold and distorted through the voice scrambler. "You were different, Francisco. A wolf among sheep, as Vex says. I saw potential in you. As for now, I have my reasons for helping you, but I don't owe you an explanation."

Gwyneth was cautious but determined. "We need your help. People are getting killed now, every day."

Herringbone chuckled behind his mask. "No, you don't need my help. But you could certainly use it. Vex's power is not to be underestimated."

Vex leaned back in his throne, an intrigued glint in his eyes. "And what is your plan here, Herringbone? Are you going to challenge me for control of Spain City?"

Herringbone shook his head. "No, Vex. I have no interest in ruling this cesspool. I have bigger fish to fry."

The tension in the room was palpable as the two powerful figures stared each other down.

Aleister stepped forward again. "I'll give you a duel."

Vex's gaze shifted to Aleister, sizing him up. "Very well," he said, a sly smile crossing his lips. "A duel it is."

[acradelius]

A little scenario where the Junker boys react to their partner squirting for them for the first time please?

"Squirt For Me~"

Fandom: Overwatch

Pairings: Mako Rutledge (Roadhog) x Reader, Jamison Fawkes (Junkrat) x Reader

Rating: Lemon [🟡] (NSFW!)

Warnings/Mention Ofs: Squirting, Overstimulation, Multiple Orgasms, Nickname Usage, Passing Out, Safe Word Mention, Mentions of Consumption of Squirting Fluids

Word Count: 782 Words

Author's Note: Gender Neutral terms despite squirting. Enjoy~

Mako doesn’t realize that he’s causing this new experience for his lover at first, just assuming it’s a combination of lube and cum that was causing (Y/N) to be so absolutely wet for him. He briefly notices the seemingly extra wetness upon his thighs, how (Y/N)’s hands are pressing against his thighs so firmly, commenting about how he’s making them quiver and squirm so much underneath him. “Making ya’ so wet, am I now, little piggy?~ Ya’ gettin’ yourself all over me~” It takes him a moment, after pounding himself into (Y/N) once again, chuckling as after a couple moments he watches as they start to squirm once again, feeling another wave of wetness upon his thighs that he finally realizes what he’s causing them to do: squirt.

Upon removing himself away from the now trembling, pleasure induced (Y/N), he can now faintly hear noise of fluids gushing from them, watching the fluid start to cover his thighs and drench them. “Mm, little piggy~ Daddy making you squirt, huh?~” Mako knows that he should give (Y/N) some sort of break from him mercilessly fucking them, allow them a break to catch their breath and allow their body to relax, but now that he knows he can make (Y/N) squirt, he wants to put them through it over and over again. That’s exactly what he now has planned, and that’s now exactly what he puts them through. Countless hours of relentlessly thrusting his enormous cock into their trembling, overworked body, causing (Y/N) to squirt a countless amount of times to the point that everything is now drenched in their bodily fluids, only stopping whenever (Y/N) had finally passed out in Mako’s hold. 

Whenever (Y/N) comes back to consciousness, seeing that they have been cleaned up and tended to, it is then that they are questioned by Mako about their ability to squirt. Mako is quite surprised, but should’ve figured it out by now that it was the first time (Y/N) had squirted before, seeing that they had never really squirted in the previous times that they’ve had sex. He’s totally down to try getting them to squirt again the next time that they have sex, but knows next time to give (Y/N) at least some sort of break. 

Jamison almost immediately becomes excited and intrigued by the fact that he’s caused (Y/N) to squirt for the very first time. Watching them squirm and tremble as they’re riding out their orgasm, but watching the liquid gushing from them and onto him, his eyes light up and he gives his usual giggles. Jamison wants (Y/N) to squirt again, and he wants them to squirt now. He goes back to doing what he was doing before: pounding his cock into them at such a feral pace, listening to them cry out his name followed by absolute vulgar nonsense, squirming and squirting once again whenever he would quickly remove his cock from within them. Over and over again he repeats the actions, only having stopped whenever (Y/N) mumbles out their safe word. 

Ever since having discovered that he can cause (Y/N) to squirt, that’s all that he’s really been aiming for whenever it comes down to sex, being absolutely in love with it even though (Y/N) had explained to him how squirting works and that they do need some sort of break in between squirting. As long as they agree to it and are in the mood for it, he wants every sex session to involve squirting or end in squirting in some way, shape or form. He wants everything to be drenched in their fluids, a reminder to (Y/N), and even himself, about who they belong to and that out of all the people that could make them feel some sort of pleasure, that it’s Jamison. 

SQUIRT!~ ALL!~ OVER!~ THIS!~ MAN!~ Jamison absolutely wants to be drenched head to toe from (Y/N) squirting. He wants it to be dripping off of him as if he just stepped out of the shower and has the intent of air drying, getting it everywhere he goes. Feeling somewhat adventurous? He wants to experiment with them squirting into his mouth. He wants to experience the taste, does it taste as good as when (Y/N) cums, or even better? Either way, he doesn’t want sex to end unless you’ve got him completely drenched, and Jamison has no shame in strutting around naked all covered in everything. Hell, he even wants whatever object he was fucking (Y/N) on to bed soaked. Either way, he ain’t quitting till he gets his way. 

[racfoam]

Continuation of Harry and Delphi travelling to alternate universe where Voldy won AU, a gift for @inkwardspots and for their "all she knows is how to survive (but tell me, how do you die" fic, go check it out if you haven’t, I am obsessed with it!

Ink, you wil know which scene this wil be after I say this.

It’s the bridge scene! It’s set the same day they arrived at Slytherin’s Mansion and Harry is just taking a walk around the garden. Again, Voldy's thoughts are in ( ) mostly.

I decided to name the AU killed you first

P.S. I added the paragraphs you wrote, I marked them with this symbol *, I hope that's okay, I just love those paragraphs. ❤️

———————————————————

Voldemort finds Harry on the stone bridge overlooking a pond.

Water can reflect the most diverse moods from architectural severity to natural tranquility. All the pools throughout this section have been created artificially but all, like the best gardens, reflect the personality of their owners.

Who knew what was happening in the Dark Lord’s head? Harry had only gotten a taste of it in her fifth year, and it was more than enough for her to conclude diving into his mind was a trip she would not be doing, least of all would it be a pleasing experience.

She didn’t acknowledge him vocally, didn’t offer a greeting. Voldemort deserved nothing, and he would receive nothing.

“Do you like the grounds?” he asked in that high, reverberating voice of silken tones concealing the destructive tendencies. It was as cold as she remembered. 

Harry looked down upon the small pond beneath the stone bridge. It was about a five meter drop from here to the flowing water. There were no fish there as far as she could see.

To pass the time, Harry has been swirling shapes on the water with her fingers and the thread of her magic, using the little wind-like energy as a pencil to draw upon the surface of the water before nature ran its course and deleted the indent. 

Harry had a passing idea to grab Lord Voldemort, yank him to the stone banister, haul him over the bridge and into the water. The mere image of his tall body splashing into the pond was a source of amusement for the young woman.

“You need to hire someone to clear the pond.”

She doesn’t look at Voldemort, not really. She looks at the reflection of him upon the still surface of the unmoving water. The crimson eyeballs are no pleasant addition to the blue canvas of the river. They are too intense, too boiling, to fit the serene water. They taint it instead, claim it for their own. Two emblems of scorching hellfire.

“I understand now,” she said. “Why you were so desperate to kill me. Why I was never meant to grow up. Why you wanted to kill me before I reached the age of magical maturity. Why you never wanted me to live past seventeen.”

“Because the more life I have, the more time I get, the higher the possibility I would become more powerful than you.”

Magic is as easy as breathing now. It flows through her like the blood in her veins. The focus is a mere blink away, as fast as a strike of lightning. 

“Are you scared now, Tom? Are you scared of what you helped create? Are you scared of what I grew to be?”

After all the lights go down, she was the words and he was the sound. A strange type of chemistry.

“No, Harriet.” Voldemort laughed, humane and normal, lacking any cruelty — a simple, charming sound. A smile pressed against the back of Harry’s head, broad and wide. “I’m delighted.”

It was as though he never left. Even after all these years, Voldemort’s voice is as familiar as the welcoming walls of Hogwarts, as the golden fluttering wings of the golden snitch, as  the waving crimson turrets of Gryffindor supporters, as the steaming hoot of the Hogwarts Express, as the song of Fawkes the phoenix.

It leaves Harry paralyzed like the frozen waves of basilisk venom, drowning and touching the places of her burning heart she buried right along with him. 

Harry turns away from their reflections in the water where Voldemort’s is towering over her shoulder in the water, turning to face him.

“You can laugh,” whispers Harry, gawking at him shamelessly. A beaming grin rises on her face, and she chuckles in disbelief because it’s crazy. “You can laugh! Like a normal person! You just laughed!”

“Who else has heard you laugh?” asked Harry. “Let me guess? Your Inner Circle?”

“No,” responded Voldemort softly, staring down at Harry. “You are the first.”

Voldemort stepped closer, until he was two inches away.

Harry inhaled sharply. There were many things Harry had forgotten, or had never truly realized until now. One, Harry forgot how unfairly tall wizard Voldemort was. Two, Harry never saw Voldemort this close before except in the graveyard, and found herself staring at his face, tracing every angle of it with her eyes, studying it as one studies the cover of a book they read ten years ago. 

*"You are the first." He says, watching as her face turns slack and a delicate dust of pink rises to her cheeks.

*“And," He almost hisses, leaning closer to her small form, breathing delicate breath against her ear. "You will be the last." 

*It is soft, this declaration - not a threat or a promise, but a wish. 

*A hope and a dream, Harry thinks disbelievingly as he draws away, a book she knew so long ago warped and changed, so familiar and yet knew things have revealed between the lines, the interpretation so different from when she was a child to now, when is a woman.

The bone structure, formed of melting wax rather than sculpted of marble, reshaped by age. No wrinkles to be seen, strangely smooth as wax. Whiter than snow, with completely red eyes, scleras included. Somehow, now that Harry got a good look at Voldemort’s serpentine features and face, they were strangely enthralling. The out-of-nature of Voldemort’s face made Harry stare longer. 

Up close, Voldemort’s face was unlike anything or any face of a man she saw. Not even the man he was, Tom Riddle, gathered Harry's attention. There was so far pleasant faces could hold her attention. 

Harry felt like an astronaut finding a new planet. Harry was strangely reminded of that white albino snake with red eyes she saw in the London zoo… Who knew boogeymen could look alright? 

Horror caught up to her, gripping her guts in its clutches. Repulsed by the fact she found herself lured to his serpentine face, Harry stepped back, breaking the gaze away from where her eyes had been staring, enchanted — the burning eyes. Yeah, ten years of not seeing the man whose sole goal was to murder her does include a refreshing stare down (or in Harry’s case, stare up) where Harry actually gets to realize Lord Voldemort's face structure isn’t that bad…

It isn’t Harry's fault his face is unnatural, aberrant, atypical… It deviated from normalcy. Anyone would stare at something unusual like Voldemort’s serpentine face. Plus, she hasn’t seen it in a while. She had to get her guts back in, get back into the habit of looking at him.

Her heart was beating, shitscared still. It was hard to erase the fear connected with Voldemort. A victim never forgets their executioner.

Was he always so frustratingly tall? Or has Harry never stood this close to him to notice his prominent height?

(Harriet Potter bloomed into a beautiful flower. An orange carnation, blooming and eye-catching with its orange petals arranged in multiple layers, outdoing any rose, daisy, lily or violet.)

“I was concerned you fled.”

“You wish. I wouldn’t leave Delphi with you.”

“Who would think you became an attentive mother... To a child of mine, of all things.”

Harry wanted to snap back with a sarcastic quip. The words Not you, certainly. I couldn’t learn from the example of my mother because you killed her. And certainly not the me you killed, who died at seventeen. edged on her tongue, teased at her vocal chords.

The loss of her parents... It was a wound Harry was familiar with all too well. An old wound. A wound never quite stitched properly, not even by the threads of time. It was a phantom ache. It didn’t hurt anymore, not constantly, but the memory of how she got it was there. Like the scar on her forehead. Unresponsive, but there. Sleeping, but alive.

“I was never a child. You made sure I never had a normal life. Any objections you have to my behaviour you can directly blame yourself for, really.”

“You think yourself so clever.” Voldemort said softly, but it was as sharp as a basilisk fang burying into skin and breaking bones. “You think yourself very bright indeed.”

“Of course I do. I outsmarted you, I defeated you.” declared Harry. It wasn’t posed as a question; she wouldn’t give Voldemort a single loophole to use to slither himself to satisfaction. “Tell me, your Lordship. Who was it but me that conquered you?”

(Harriet has conquered much more of him than Voldemort would prefer to confess. Something past battle. Something past magical abilities. Something past power. Something past cleverness. However, he is unwilling to yield to it. To admit it. Refusing to give her that advantage. Refusing to confess it, even though he knows it’s true, deep in his bones.)

“You didn’t conquer me," he hisses softly, lying with his adder's tongue. “You didn’t outsmart me. You merely gambled the loyalty of the Elder Wand. A gamble which paid off, I agree. Naturally, had its allegiance been to someone else, even Draco, you would have died.” 

A slow, delighted smile rises on his face, broad and wide; it is worse than any expression of fierce anger he carried. It gutted Harry’s stomach. His red eyes gleamed like a predator’s. “I would have struck you dead a second time, Harriet.”

“Why don’t you now?”

“Because I find your company pleasant and stirring.” Voldemort said softly. “Also, it’s no good practice to separate a daughter from her mother. Knowing how I reacted finding out my father abandoned me, I think she wouldn’t take keenly to her mother being murdered. It’s a rather strange thing, mothers protecting their daughters…”

“How merciful you are, your Lordship. Sparing me out of consideration for your daughter’s feelings. And because I somehow stir that sick mind of yours and make a pleasant company. If you spared a breath between trying to murder me, perhaps you would have realized that sooner.”

“Perhaps.”

The quiet murmur of that word is somehow the singular thing Harry can hear, paired with the water.

Voldemort was close now, close enough for her to touch his face, witness the shade of crimson that are his eyes. Voldemort breathed a wintery breath, an exhale which tickled across the skin of her lips. Harry realized his arms had moved to encage her without truly touching, that his hands were resting on the stone fence of the bridge, that she herself stood very much pinned. Either Voldemort or haul herself over the bridge into the water. He stared down at her with an expression Harry had never seen on him before, his eyes half-lidded.

“There you are!” came Delphi’s voice.

Voldemort swept away from Harry with unnerving speed. In front of her and crowding her in with his presence one moment, six feet away from her the next. It reminded Harry of a snake recoiling from a fire.

Harry wondered whether she imagined a flicker of disappointment within Voldemort’s eyes. He looked strange, standing in the summer sunshine. Like a pearl from a seashell. Or the moon, appearing in the clear blue sky.

Harry realized she had only now started breathing again. Harry turned her attention toward the path she had come from, and found Delphi running to them. What stopped Harry’s heart and almost put it into cardiac arrest was the giant twelve-foot snake hung around her daughter’s small shoulders.

“I’ve been looking for you for ages,” Delphi dramatized, much like someone Harry knew, who, if he had eyebrows, would definitely be raising them to his hairline, which he also didn’t have.

“I wanted to pick flowers, but the garden leaves much to be desired. Nevermind, we’ll plant a plethora of flowers.” decided Delphini, rather bossily, as though she owned the entire grounds.

(Voldemort didn’t know how to react to the child thinking she had any jurisdiction to renovate the garden.)

“Nagini was out hunting, she ate a rat!” Delphi continued talking, oblivious to the awkward silence, choosing to ignore it. “It was cool. I never saw snakes eat up close before. Anyway, I bumped into her and asked her if she could find you.”

Delphi raised her hand as Nagini bumped her snout into her left cheek (let Harry tell you, it took every single shred of willpower not to grab the snake and toss it over the bridge into the water) and caressed down Nagini’s head similarly as Voldemort did so many times. “She’s really cuddly. She isn’t dangerous at all, mum. And she didn’t try to ‘squeeze the life’ out of me.”

Harry would firmly disagree. She heard something that sounded like a stifled sound of amusement where Voldemort was, and told herself not to fling him over the bridge.

The red eyes were full of amusement.

“If my memory serves me properly... I did not command Nagini to ‘squeeze the life’ out of you, Miss Potter —”

“It sure felt like that to me...” grumbled Harry.

“I explicitly remember saying...” Here, Voldemort looked at Harry again, his red eyes glowing, before he hissed softly, tasting the words fondly. “Hold her.”

“And this, Delphi, is what a boy should not do. A boy should not —” Here, Harry gave a pointed look to Voldemort, who grinned thst broad, manic, satisfied smile,“— send his snake after you and whisper things like ‘hold her’ as though you are a bloody trophy.”

“But you are a trophy, Harry." Voldemort purred. Harry refrained from pouting. He turned to Delphi. “You can set Nagini on any boy who you don't like or who is making you uncomfortable, little one.”

“Yes!” squealed Delphi.

“No!” shrieked Harry, but was ignored.

“My name isn’t ‘little one’, you know. It's Delphi. Speaking of names and titles, how do I call you?”

“You can call me father.”

“What are you, a youth pastor?” asked Harry and Delphi at the same exact time, voices intermingling.

Voldemort fought back a grin. The woman and the girl were both amusing.

“I’ll call you dad,” decided Delphi, nodding to herself, as though she has solved a crossword Hermione gave her. “It’s the simplest solution.”

No respect toward authority whatsoever…

“Mum? Does he always seethe like that?”

“Don’t worry, Delphi. Your father is a marshmallow.”

Delphi tilted her head, staring at Voldemort, surveying his face.

“He does look like a marshmallow...” Delphi whispered back to Harry, grinning innocently and child-like.

(Calling  Lord Voldemort a marshmallow. Dear Merlin, Potter had truly gone far and beyond after being allowed to live.

Why is he allowing this disrespect? Well, he has to admit, he has never been compared to a marshmallow. He appreciated good humor. And courage, foolish as it was. It was a rather flattering comparison.)

“Shall we head for dinner?”

“Er... Yeah, let's...”

“Nagini, come.”

Nagini hissed something into Delphi’s ear, and Delphi nodded, crouching down and extending her right hand lower to the floor. Nagini slid off the girl’s shoulders and back at Voldemort's feet.

“Some things haven’t changed.” Harry said, smirking.

Harry grinned at Voldemort teasingly, courageous as always. “You still don’t wear shoes.”

Instead of seething as she expected him to, Voldemort smiled. His eyes glew with a strange sort of look. It almost looked warm.

“It's a part of my charm," he added with a crooked grin.

And then, something wondrous happened. Harriet Potter laughed, flashing her teeth. The smile completely lit her face up. It was a soft, gentle sound.

It was the first time he heard her laugh.

(To Lord Voldemort, it was the most pleasant, melodious sound he had ever heard.)

[pixie-cocaine]

ATEEZ Reaction To: Having a wet dream about you

yourusernames: Omg can I request ATEEZ reaction to having a wet dream about their friend? (Who would start developing a crush, who would want to have a one night stand and who wouldn't care at all?) Thanks!!

A/N: These reactions are based solely off of what I think they’d do, I am in no way, shape or form, telling you that this IS how the members would handle this scenario. Like shit, I dunno the guys :/. This is a gender neutral reader reaction btw :)

(This is very explicit, you have been warned!!!)

Hongjoong ♡:

• It felt like the actual thing

• Your lips; sweet like pink lemonade and eyes staring into his with a soft sparkle that originated from his bedside lamp

• but what felt more real than anything was you

• Your scent, your taste

• Your touch...

• It was all overwhelming in the sense that he found himself breaking out of his dreaming state, breath heavy as if he’d been sprinting for hours, and a lusty sheen screening his mind from acting with any sense of rationality

• He was horny horny, dawg 💀

• I feel for that man, it’s tough...

• He could already tell that he had an...accident, before he pushed the duvet off his body due to registering the last couple twitches of his restricted cock in his shorts

• No wonder he could ‘feel’ everything so well

• He wasn’t able to sleep the rest of the night.

• Couldn’t help but begin to feel a crush blossom for you

• As y’all already know, the man gets attached to the ones he spends the most time with

• You’re no exception

• Would end up telling you about his feelings. It was eating him up inside to keep it to himself

Seonghwa ♡:

• He has no right looking this good, dawg. It literally makes me so mad lmao

• Lemme lick your face, I bet it tastes like expensive concealer and everything I’ll never have >:}

• Anywhore

• He felt feverish, even inside his dream

• It was odd; he could feel you, but he couldn’t feel you. He remembers the surreal sensation of warmth under his palms as he grabbed onto your bare ass whilst you bounced you on top of him, panting hard and clutching at his damp hair to pull his head back

• He groaned, and just as he went to switch positions, he was snapped out of his dream

• Was like “Fuckin pardon?” when he realised where he was; his empty bed, alone in his own room, no sign of you

• Frowned, pushing the covers off of him because dawg, he was heating up OwO

• Then realised the large wet spot at the front of his sweatpants

• “What the...”

• Was never the same™ 

• Everytime he saw you, he couldn’t help but feel that same heat in his hands, and he felt guilty about it. 

• Didn’t know how to approach you about it at all. What was he supposed to say?

• “I nutted in my pants because I dreamt about doing the dirty with you”

• Just wouldn’t bring it up

• Good chance he’d catch feelings. Seonghwa builds bonds with the people he knows, it’s very easy to tell that when he cares, and he would care dearly for you. Once the chance that anything intimate between you two arises, I’m sure he’d begin to think of you romantically once you’re shown in said light.

Yunho ♡:

• Now wouldn’t a flustered Yunho be a sight? Damn...

• He loved looking down at you

• The way you smiled at him, wrapping an arm around his shoulders and pulling his bare chest into yours as you whispered how good he felt inside you, cooing out words of praise and encouragment 

• It was hazy, but he can still vaguely remember how you kissed him so sweetly. How your fingers smoothed his bangs away from his eyes, and how you moaned into his ear softly with each thrust

• It was only when you cupped his cheeks and spoke, did you break him out of his dream;

• “Wake up.”

• His eyes shot open

• Only a blue ceiling stared back

• “Mmm...?” Yunho sits up and rubs his eyes roughly, already aware of the blush that paints his cheeks and nose because he can feel the heat in his face

• Said ‘What the fawk 😃’ when his brain caught up with what he just experienced, as well as the stickiness that clung to his inner thighs when he moved to go get some water

• This bitch was contemplating his whole life after that

• Is ‘UwU’ with you from then on cuz a babie caught butterfwies ;(

• Rlly bad at hiding his feelings lol, you’d catch on eventually

Yeosang ♡:

• It was messy, to say the least

• Kitchen island sex? Yup :D

• The dream wasn’t at all put into play with any sense. You guys were just... in the kitchen, when you confessed your feelings and made a move on him

• A deep kiss mixed with the pounding of nervous hearts all put Yeosang in a fever outside of his dream

• “Say you like it,” You panted, using the hand on the back of his head to push his forehead against yours while the other kept you from laying onto the island

• “I like it.. Fuck, I like it”

• “Yeah?” His hips stutter when you clench your walls around him, and in turn, he lets out a choked-off gasp

• “Y一Oh my god一Yeah...”

• Damn... he was FEELING it lmao

• Funny thing is that he slept throughout the entire dream and woke up only when his foot did a little mid-sleep spasm

• Stared at the wall while frowning for soooooo fucking long

• Whole time he said ‘ya know wot, that’s real interesting 🤔’

• Then was like “Prolly just horny 😃. oh well, time to change my underwear”

• And that’s what he chalked it up to in the end. Would maybe make a joke about it to you next time y’all hung out if he’s feeling loose enough and doesn’t mull over it for too long

San ♡:

• HEATHEN

• Hold on, lemme get a half-assed feel for the man... yes... mm-hm... ah, I see... OK!

• So, from what I can tell, San would distance himself from you slightly. Maybe. 

• That night, as he lie in his bed, breath coming faster with each motion that went on in his head, he saw you in a way that he never thought would happen.

• Skin, slick with sweat and eyes like burning coals as they focused on him. There wasn’t much to remember before it was already fading, but he could still make out how much his stomach lept and spun, heart oh-so thunderous in his chest. Whatever you did with him in the dream... it sparked something inside him.

• San was in a daze as he woke up, his body not quite cooperating with him when he tried to sit up, and instead, falling limp with the next couple of attempts.

• WHEN I TELL YOU THE SOUL WAS SUCKED FROM THIS MAN AISDIUBFADEBI-

• Really just stared into space with the look of a dead man

• What did he do when he finally saw you again?

•  ✨ pretend he didn’t see shit ✨

• Not the masked uncomfort-

• Depending on whether you’re one for confrontation, he might just cave if you press him about his weird behavior enough, but be fast, because I’m sure he could push his feelings down succesfully if he tried hard enough.

Mingi ♡:

• Dude... the fucking happiness of the dream...

• Silly giggles when you’d accidentally bonk eachother while switching posititons, bright smiles when you stared at eachother after a long time, random compliments, and nothing too serious that you couldn’t find playfulness in. Even when you’d both stop smiling to let out small moans and feel the moment together, it was always lighthearted.

• FUUUUUUUUUUUUCK IM SO ANGRY-

• It was some shit you’d see at the sundance ;(

• Then he woke up-

• You were the first and only thing he thought about as he gained conciousness. He wanted you... you, you, you, just you.

• He’d never wanted anything so bad. A sudden longing that made a lump form in his throat and an overwhelming feeling of how much he’s always wanted you.

• So, like Mingi does, he strived for that goal >:D

• He made an effort to see you as many times as he could and whenever you were free to hang out. And finally, one night when you both lie in his bed and gazed thoughtlessly at the ceiling, he told you.

• “I had a dream about you, you know.”

Not me basically making a summary of a could-be fic-

Wooyoung ♡:

• Now believe it or not, this bitch is hard for me to get a grasp on. All I can say with confidence is that he has the sex appeal of a milf stripper and is kinda stubborn-

• Hmm.... bothered.

• That is the feeling it would pull from him.

• Hungry; frequent patterns of warm breath against sweat-slicked skin, mumbled curses past wet lips, nails dug into his stomach deep enough to draw blood yet barely acknowledged through animalistic films over both your eyes, and teeth furrowed into the flesh of his shoulder as you scratched at the blank canvas of his back.

• It was all raw sexual aggression from both sides. So much so, that you both practically fought during it.

“I hate you. I hate you like you don’t even know, Wooyoung,” You speak, breathless, and reach up to weave both fists into his hair, “I love you so much that I fucking... hate you.”

• Then...

• Gone.

• Just like that, the dream was replaced with the sight of familiar bedroom walls as Wooyoung opened his eyes, a sigh escaping past his lips when he finally pieced things together.

• “As if I wasn’t already stressed enough...,” He murmurs, staring down at the new stain on his sweatpants.

• From that point on, it’s a new habit for Wooyoung to catch sight of you and keep his gaze there; just staring when you’re not looking, and feeling terrible afterwards. He feels like he violated you somehow, and with that ball of dread in his stomach whenever he sees you, he becomes distant.

• It’s not catching feelings so much as it is a new desire.

Jongho ♡:

• Jongho, Jongho, Jongho... whatever will we do with you?

• Upfront about it, surprisingly.

• He caught feelings. How could he not when you’re one of the most breath-taking people he’s ever had the pleasure of knowing?

• That face of yours, along with your voice so soft and encouraging in his ears, was enough for him to cave.

• “Just like that, baby... Just like that.”

• He doesn’t even remember the details of the dream. Just your words and kisses, which still make the touched skin of his body heat with excitement whilst he blinks down at his hands.

• He clenches them; one, twice, then lets them fall back to his sides. He doesn’t need to look into his pants to know that he’s soiled himself.

• He feels kinda... empty? After the dream. Lmao just as exhausted as San was, really, but both at the fluttering his heart when he thinks of you, and the dream itself, so cleans himself up real quick before going back to sleep. 

• The fluttering doesn’t go away the next morning.

• So... he tells you :D

• As soon as you walk through the door, holding a bag of snacks and drinks for preparation to crash at Jongho’s apartment for a little bit, he sits you down on the couch, much to your confusion at the serious face he has.

• “I know that this kind of thing can ruin friendships and I don’t want that. At all. But, I had a... dream, about you last night and now I can’t really stop thinking about you...”

• Not the pounding of his heart making him dizzy :*

[quoththe-ravenn]

🦴ANON BACK AGAIN YR THOUGHTS ON DA HOLIDAYS ARE SO RIGHT. i feel like alex gets offended abt st patricks day bc of the 'drunk irishman/scotsman' stereotype while being Completely oblivious to the Very Funny Fact that he literally is that stereotype. like hes all defensive like 'its not even realistic!! and its so offensive!' while the pc is just giggling bc he is literally a drunk redhead downing whiskey At That Very Moment. also i feel like wren would love halloween. if he was rich i feel like he would have one of those giant set ups all over his house to make it look super creepy from the outside. if he doesnt stay at home to give candy hes out there being the trick-or-treater thats WAY too old to be doing it and youre also pretty sure he's drunk but hes having a good time and deffo brags about the amount of candy he gets. also feels like the type of person to be really good at trading candy wih his friends so he only has the types he likes. if he stays at home i feel like he would make people 'prove their worth' to get candy? but its literally just like 'survive this jumpscare from the animatonic clown they sell at spirit halloween' or like 'get to the front door without crying bc of all of the scary decorations'. like yes he is an angel and the love of my life but he is also a little bastard who thinks its a little bit funny to see people get the shit scared outta them. probably the type to pull rlly elaborate pranks with their friends where they try to convince someone theyre haunted. doren and memorial day thoughts also: i think in england its rememberance day?? thats what we have in the rest of the commonwealth as well. i feel like he would be the type of english teacher to teach abt war poetry on that day and tear up a little when reading flanders fields outloud to the class. he teaches abt wilfred owens and other war poets and he seems Wayy Too Invested. (i too am a firm believer in puri's headcanon that he was ex-SAS). i feel like rememberence day would be the one time he would let something slip about his past life but then he would never mention it again. also bc the uk doesnt have thr fourth of july id like to respectfully change mason's fav holiday to guy fawkes day. u light a buncha shit on fire and then go do fireworks and go swimming with your friends. hes a little ashamed to admit it bc he wants to seem like a mature teacher but truth be told this university/high schooler's holiday is his favourite bc of the adrenaline rush and the excuse to go and party with his friends. winter likes it but only bc he wants to talk about the rebellion and the historical roots of guy fawkes day. however it is cool bc he will take u to the secret tunnels beneath the town in a 'recreation' of what guy fawkes himself had to do. ok oxoxo love your thoughts and they made me think my own thoughts so here they are. ily and i slobber all over your writing so much. sorry this was so long

THANK YOU FOR ALL THIS I ASKDGSLDHS LOVE IT.

Serious Big Brain ™ thoughts. I love Wren's Halloween idea!!! If he was rich I can see him doing a full on haunted house out of his house, making it a goal to personally scare everyone he knows.

Doren's makes so much sense!! Yeah I couldn't find any holidays for england bc I am dumb dumb.

Mason's is basically the same bc that's how the 4th of July is here, and Winter's makes so much sense!!!

Thank you for sending these in it helps me a bunch!! 💖💖

LAUGHING SO HARD AT ALEX TOO BC HE SO WOULD THE DUMBASS (affectionate)

[its-a-humanriot]

“Billie, my friend, I have a question.”

“Shoot away, buddy.”

Fawkes, with an expression on his face that Billie is learning to read as confusion, starts reaching for his Gatling laser as he starts to look around for danger and she has to start backpedalling immediately. “Nononono, wait, sorry – just a turn of phrase. I meant to say go ahead.”

Fawkes’s huge shoulders visibly relax in the light of their small campfire, and he turns back to look at her again with that same odd look on his face. They haven’t spent an awful lot of time together since he carried her and Charon back from Raven Rock all those months ago, but since she had asked him to help her out on this trip scavving some heavier equipment from the scrapyard Billie has realised just how difficult he is to read. All of her instincts on body language are built for regular humans, and Fawkes sure is not that.

“Some of your phrases are very strange, my friend. Sometimes I do not know what to make of them.”

This comment startles a laugh from Billie, and she takes a swig of her Nuka Cola.

“Trust me, you are far from the first person to tell me that.” She says, grinning. “That’s what comes of growing up in an underground vault with no contact with the outside world, I guess. We just talk weird down there compared to everyone else.”

“You spent your life in a vault as I did, correct?”

“Yeah – well, my vault wasn’t anywhere near as shitty as your vault. Still bad, in retrospect, but not like ‘forcibly-injecting people-with-viruses-to-cause-horribly-painful-mutations-for-science’ bad.” Billie scratches at Dogmeat’s ears as he lays dozing between them. Fawkes shrugs – it’s an unnatural-looking motion on someone with his enormous build, all of the muscles in his shoulders bunching and tangling like huge twisted ropes.

“It is done now, and I cannot change what was done to me in the past. All the ones who are responsible for me being the way I am now are likely dead anyway. You have only been outside for a short time, yes?”

“Yeah, not that long. Less than a year.”

Fawkes grunts, then goes quiet, unnaturally so for him – the rumble of his voice normally suffuses the space around him at all times, like the hum of a generator. Billie isn’t sure yet whether Fawkes is just naturally talkative or whether he had just been so contact-starved during his long imprisonment in Vault 87 that when the chance came for conversation with another person came that he fell upon it like a starving man upon food. Either way, he normally takes any chance for discussion that presents itself no matter the topic, and the steady resonation of his rough voice combined with his contemplative nature makes Billie find his presence to be strangely calming in a way that seems at odds with his size or his ferocity in a fight.

But now he spends a long while staring in silence at the patch of night sky above their camp where the stars are making a rare appearance through a gap in the clouds. The look on his face has changed again. Fawkes has so many expressions that she has never seen on another super mutant, let alone another human, and are hard to interpret. The increased musculature on his face makes everything seem more strained, more forced. When he finally speaks, there’s a tense thread of something she can’t identify in it.

“Does the world ever stop feeling so big?”

The question takes a moment to land, but when it does it feels like it stuns her like a blow to the head. She remembers suddenly how it felt to leave the vault for the first time. After her eyes had first adjusted to the blazing daylight and she saw the sky for the first time, looking at it for too long made her stomach go all tight – for the first time in her life the world around her was not held up by walls, she couldn’t see the edges of it beyond the distant horizon, and it frightened her.

Sure, she was running on adrenaline constantly in those first few weeks above ground - when it had seemed everything in the world was out to get her and she didn’t have a grip on anything - but she had been half-convinced that the huge sky above her would fall down and crush her long before she ever found her father. Eventually the feelings had faded - sometime around when she started getting a handle on things, and after she learned that just because a place had a ceiling it didn’t mean it was any safer for it.

Fawkes had lived in a vault for far longer than she had. Not even just in the vault, but cooped up within the same four cell walls for who knows how long – certainly decades by his description, maybe even centuries – with few memories of his life from before his mutation. And yet when Billie had been captured by the Enclave, by Charon’s account Fawkes had essentially slung him over his shoulder and run after her into the great unknown despite having known her for less than an hour.

When she had emerged from Raven Rock, battered and burned and running only on the last fumes of her anger, she had been so overwhelmed to see her two friends that she had pretty much collapsed right into them from relief and exhaustion. She hadn’t thought of it being Fawkes’s first time above ground, and he hadn’t given any sign of being troubled by it that she had noticed. He’s never given any sign of being troubled by anything, come to think of it.

What would fear look like on a super mutant, anyway?

Fawkes is still staring into the distance. Billie takes another swig from her cola, and fiddles with the bottle cap. Maybe there are other reasons that Fawkes had taken to staying in Underworld than she had originally realised.

“Not exactly.” She shuffles a little closer to the fire. “The world still feels crazy big to me even now sometimes. But it’s less overwhelming now than it was. I found things to fill the space with, I guess.”

Fawkes looks back towards her, his tilted head a question in the firelight, and she continues.

“When I first came topside I didn’t have anything or know anyone, and the world was huge and overwhelming and I didn’t really know what to do with myself except try and find my dad however I could. But then I found Charon and having him around made things feel - less uncertain, I suppose. Then we found Dogmeat.” She strokes Dogmeat’s ears again, and the dog snorts at her softly. “Things got bad again after Dad died, but I kept meeting people and finding things that made me feel like I was part of the world and not just rolling around in this huge empty space where I might die at any second.”

She takes a last sip of Nuka and then offers the half-full bottle to Fawkes. Slowly, he reaches out and takes it from her almost delicately, holding it just with his forefinger and thumb before raising it to his mouth and downing the remaining liquid in one large gulp. Then scrunches his nose up.

“This drink makes my mouth tingle.”

“Hey, you got to re-discover soda! Did you like it?”

Fawkes contemplates this.

“I am not sure. I would like to try another one.”

Billie pops the cap off another cola and passes it to him, then briefly scrubs her teeth with a brush and a little charcoal, rinses with vodka mouthwash (and scrunches her own nose) and gets comfortable in her bedroll next to the fire.

“Billie?” Fawkes is still looking out towards the sky, sipping his cola, his voice quiet as she has ever heard it.

“Yeah?”

“Thank you.”

“No problem.” She yawns. “Goodnight, Fawkes.”

Just before she drifts off, she sees a single huge green fingertip gently stroke the top of Dogmeat’s head, and then remembers nothing until she wakes, bleary-eyed, to a bright beam of pinkish light from the freshly risen sun. When she turns over, Fawkes is sitting cross-legged on the ground by the fire with Dogmeat curled up by his knee, eyes on the horizon. It is hard to tell, but she thinks as he watches the sun crawl up into the pink-orange sky that the morning light illuminates the slightest upturned corners at the edges of his mouth.