#it up. its not that deep. sometimes its Just That.

[sky-scribbles]

I'm going to say something controversial. I think there's something Veilguard does better than any other Dragon Age game. Namely: incorporating the companions into the plot.

Look, I love Origins as much as everyone. But to be frank: you could cut every companion except Alistair, Morrigan and Loghain and the plot could still work. Once you've finished the mission where you recruit a companion, there aren't other main quests that involve them in any way.

Oghren and Wynne could have stayed home after their recruitment missions for all the difference it would make to the main plot. Sten, Leliana and Zevran could vanish and nothing would change, because once they're on your team, they don't interact with the main plot at all. (There's the Temple of Sacred Ashes, I suppose - but even then, you'd be going on that quest whether Leliana and Wynne were there or not, and it's very telling that they can both die here and next to nothing in the rest of the game is impacted.)

Again: I love Origins. This doesn't detract from any of these characters being great, or from the story being great. It just means there's a layer of separation between the two. They're involved in the story, but they're not driving it, and you seldom get to see them have strong feelings about it.

DA2 is a huge step up. Your companions' personal stories are integral parts of the main plot. You can't do the Deep Roads expedition without witnessing Karl's death and its impact on Anders. You can't enter Act 2 without seeing Varric's brother betray him, or watching your sibling either die or begin a new path in life. Act 2's climax happens because of choices Isabela and Aveline have made. Act 3's endgame is all about Anders making one enormous decision. Even Fenris and Merrill, who have the fewest ties to the plot, have strong reasons to be invested in the Mage/Templar conflict.

And then Inquisition just... backslides. There are multiple companions you don't need to recruit at all, or can send away with zero alteration to the main plot. Your companions don't like Corypheus because he's bad, but no one - except maybe Varric - has any strong personal feelings about him. They have no personal stake in defeating him, not like Alistair has a personal stake in opposing Loghain, or Anders in opposing Meredith.

We go to the Winter Palace, and Vivienne is not made a part of that story. We have a whole subplot about the Wardens, and Blackwall only gets a couple of extra lines, if you even bring him. Their personal arcs could have been somehow impacted by these missions, and they're just... not. Sera is packed with internalised self-hatred that manifests as trying to distance herself from elven culture, to the point of sometimes lashing out at other elves. And despite all the missions you do where elven history features... Sera's growth past that flaw happens entirely offscreen between the base game and Trespasser?????

IMO, this is one of the biggest reasons why Corypheus is such a bland villain. He doesn't make anyone grow, except by starting a plot for them to be part of. He doesn't challenge them emotionally. No one is invested in him. Because no one interacts with the darn plot.

Veilguard, though? Veilguard keeps your companions interacting with the story the whole way through. The Treviso/Minrathous choice affects both Lucanis and Neve heavily, and impacts who they become for the rest of the game. These cities are personal to you, even if you're not a Crow or Shadow Dragon, because your companions love them.

The Siege of Weisshaupt is beyond personal to Davrin and Lucanis, both of whom are entrusted with major parts of the quest: trying to kill the archdemon and Ghilan'nain. Lucanis is affected by his failure to kill Ghilan'nain for ages afterward. Davrin is haunted by survivor's guilt; he should have died when he struck down the archdemon. He's alive. How can he live with that?

Whenever killing the gods becomes a possibility, Rook hands the lyrium dagger to Lucanis. When the squad go to fight the gods' dragons with the Wardens, Taash is the one to flush the first dragon out. When you infiltrate the Venatori, Neve tricks your way in, and everything that happens is especially weighty to Bellara, whose people have been abducted. On Tearstone Island, because of how Lucanis and Spite have grown, they strikes true.

Did you not hate Elgar'nan before that mission? Because you probably will after you watch him capture Bellara or Neve, and see his fellow god kill Harding or Davrin.

You know what's a great piece of writing? There's no reason Emmrich shouldn't have been an option to deal with the wards on Tearstone Island; he's one of the ideal options to take out more wards with the Veil Jumpers in the final mission. But you can't select him to do it. Because Emmrich has far less personal investment in the Elgar'nan battle than the other two. This is Neve's city. This is the monster who tries to call himself Bellara's god. The game makes sure the characters who take control of the Blight at the end are the ones with the greatest stakes in doing so.

One of your companions, not you, wrests command of the Blight from Elgar'nan. The final mission depends on how well you've come to know each companion's skills. They're just... always involved.

And they're invested, too. The companions all have serious personal reasons to hate the antagonists by the end. Lucanis and Neve have either seen their city burn, or know it happened at the cost of their friend's (and potential partner's) hometown. Davrin has seen his order devastated. These are Bellara's and Davrin's supposed gods, and instead of helping the elves reclaim their history and culture, they're trying to enslave the world. Harding learns that the Evanuris maimed and destroyed her Titan ancestors.

Emmrich and Taash have perhaps the smallest emotional tie - and sadly I do think Emmrich especially gets underutilized in the plot. But heck, Taash is still hella motivated by the way the gods are abusing dragons. And Emmrich is tied thematically to the main conflict. He's facing the question of immortality, while nigh-immortal beings are right in front of him, proving how that gift can be abused. The final choice of his personal arc is whether he's willing to embrace his personal, mortal attachments, at the cost of consequences that terrify him... you know, the same question that Solas faces at the end.

And don't even get me started on how everyone is emotionally tied to Solas. Harding and Neve watched him kill Varric in front of them. Everyone not dead or captured has to watch him drag Rook into the Fade. Just about every companion faces some kind of huge regret or failure at some point, in constant foreshadowing for Solas's prison of regret: both the literal one he sticks Rook in, and the mental one of his own making.

Veilguard has its problems, but it absolutely shines at keeping its characters involved and invested in the main story. It gives them things to do, it gives them reasons to care. For all the flaws this game has, this part is good writing.

[annievrse]

rumour has it!

trafalgar law x fem!reader —ᡣ𐭩 fic

summary: rumour has it that the surgeon of death is your boyfriend... w/c: 5.3k c/w: suggestive, secret relationship, reader wears a dress, no use of y/n, she/her pronouns.

The sun is just moments off dipping behind the horizon, the pink and orange hues meshing into subtle indigo. Since leaving the previous island, the air has been humid and sticky, but the slight breeze drifting through the Grand Line is refreshing. 

The inside of the girls' quarters smells of vanilla, salt, and Robin's rosewater incense. The waves crash against the side of the ship, seaspray making its way through the ajar porthole, and you're sure Nami will scold you for leaving it open, but you're far from caring now.

The cotton sheets of your bed, a present from Robin for your birthday, are soft on your legs as you turn over for the nth time in ten minutes. You wouldn't call your current state one of grief, since he is still alive, but the rawness of your throat and the deep ache in your chest makes it seem so.

Skipping dinners and chores was enough for Nami and Robin to know there was something wrong, but you've been holed up in the room since departing the last island, and now they're positive this is more than just feeling sick.

The door slams against the wall when Nami kicks it open, a scowl on her features as she stomps over to you and rips the sheets off. You whine at the loss of cover, your body curling further in on itself as you shove your face into your pillow.

"Leave me alone."

Nami scoffs. "You're kidding, right?"

"Nami—“

"We're worried about you," Robin's soft voice comes from the doorway. "You've never skipped out on your chores for this long before."

Shaking your head, you squeeze your eyes shut. No words leave your lips, and Nami and Robin share a concerned glance.

"Come on, dinner's ready. The crew's been waiting for you to join."

You sniffle and swallow thickly, remaining unresponsive to their words. If you were to tell them it feels as though your heart is going to explode and your limbs are lethargic because of a man, you fear they'd laugh at you.

"Has that window been open this whole time?—"

Robin says your name softly, abruptly cutting Nami off. "Please?"

You've always thought of the archaeologist as an older sister of sorts, so when she gives you an encouraging smile and a hand to take, you give in. Robin's always been more understanding than Nami, but you wouldn't trade either of them for the world.

"If this is about that rumour..."

You ignore her, your skin ablaze with apprehension at Nami's implication. The fresh air of the deck hits you in the face, and joyful screams and laughter from the galley have your stomach churning with anxiety.

"We understand if you don't want to talk about it, we know that rumours can get out of hand sometimes."

Your eyes remain on the floor while your cheeks burn with embarrassment. You're feet away from the kitchen door, and you resist the urge to run in the opposite direction.

"Seriously," Nami says, an easy laugh falling from her lips. "You can tell us anything, you know that."

Guilt bubbles under your skin, and you feel disgusted with yourself for feeling like you couldn't confide in them. You open your mouth to reply when a sharp gasp cuts you off.

"You're here!" Luffy exclaims, his contagious giggles making your lips turn upwards for the first time in a week. "I missed you!"

Suddenly, limbs are wrapped around you, and Luffy's grin presses against your cheek.

"I missed you, too," You smile and lean your head on his shoulder.

"Are you hungry?" Luffy asks, unwrapping himself from your torso. "Sanji cooked up a feast!"

And he isn't exaggerating. The cook stands before you, his eyes wide with concern as he takes your hand. "I made your favourites, mon amour."

You nod as you take in the platters and towers of food splayed on the long dining table. Brook, Franky, Jimbe, and Chopper sit on one side, and Usopp and Zoro sit on the other, all giving you reassuring smiles as you greet them.

"Thank you, Sanji."

"Anything for you, my angel!"

You take a seat beside Zoro and Luffy slides in next to you. "Let's eat!"

Dinner is as chaotic as usual, and in the week you've been hiding in your room, you've come to miss the disordered affair. Mountains of different dishes are piled onto your plate, thanks to Luffy, as Zoro pours sake into your mug. You won't be drinking tonight, but the thought that Zoro wants to share his beloved drink with you has your heart growing with warmth.

You pick up your fork and stab a piece of grilled broccoli. The flavour melts on your tongue as you chew, your gaze scanning your crewmates as they continue with their normal dinner conversations.

"So is it true?"

The room goes silent, and the only sound is the clink of Chopper's hoof on Brook's humourous. You stare into the voids of his eye sockets and swallow quickly to avoid choking on the vegetable.

"Wrong thing to say?"

Nami is the first to growl as she stands. "Yes, idiot!"

The rest of the crew groans and throws their assaults at the skeleton before he cries out.

"Okay! Okay, I'm sorry," Brook winces, his hands up in defence. "If I had a heart it would be full of remorse right now."

His usual gag makes you exhale a short laugh and the crew visibly relaxes.

"I'm fine, guys," You sigh. "I'm not going to break."

"So, Traffy, huh?" Zoro is amused, and when you look at him, he raises an eyebrow. "What? It's what we're all thinking."

"He's not wrong," Franky pipes up. "Rumour has it you're together."

"Who knew you two were such gossip?" Robin quips, a mug of tea held up to her lips. "Where'd you hear this so-called rumour?"

"Around," Usopp says, evading answering with a proper response.

"It's not true though, right?" Franky asks.

You shake your head immediately, stomach souring. "How would it be? I haven't seen that guy in forever, let alone be in a relationship with him."

"That's what I said!" Nami exclaims, slamming her hands on the wooden table. "I think I would know if my best friend had a boyfriend, especially if it were Traffy."

As the crew start discussing who they think started the rumour, you sit quietly. There's no telling who or how the rumour started, and you'd rather not think about it.

The article in the newspaper had been published a month ago, and to say it had caused waves was an understatement. With you and Law on two separate, infamous pirate crews, it was bound to affect civilians and pirates alike. The thought of the Heart Pirates and the Strawhats allying again had the world on edge, and if it was because of something as fragile as love, then it would be problematic for both sides.

You pick at your plate with no appetite. There are eyes on you from across the table, but you ignore Robin and continue moving food around with your fork. She can think all she likes, and so can the remainder of the crew, but you're not giving up your most vulnerable secret that easy; especially when the rest of the world thinks the same.

—

You have to tread lightly. Above you, a monthly meeting between the Kid Pirates, the Strawhats, and the Heart Pirates is taking place.

Nami rushes around the girls' quarters for a map she forgot before she stops and sees you at your desk. Various pens and papers are sprawled on the surface, and Nami wonders what you're writing. However, she doesn't press and scolds you instead.

"You're meant to be upstairs."

You groan and spin in the chair. "I'm busy."

Nami rolls her eyes. "Come on. This is important."

"Can't you just relay it to me when it's done?"

The newspaper and the rumour have been long forgotten. It's been two months since the dinner and a month and a half since the crew dropped the gossip, and you've been back to your old self. Nami's grateful that you're no longer affected by it, but there's something about the way your wrist flicks the pen on the page that has her suspicions surfacing again.

You mumble something she can't hear and stand. Nami furrows her eyebrows when she sees the state of you—you wear one of your nicer dresses and your eyelashes seem fuller, longer. She doesn't question it, but her mind circles back to the months-old rumour.

The walk upstairs and onto the deck is a tense one, and you feel the excitement of seeing Law swirl in your stomach. It's been a while since you've seen him, and him you, so, when the sun warms your skin and the heads of all three captains turn to the creaking door, you smile.

"Hi, everyone!" You say. "Sorry, I'm late."

Luffy brushes off your apology and grins while he tells you to sit with the crew. There are multiple sets of eyes on you, but only one makes your nerves dance.

You find a spot beside Chopper and face the other crews. The silence of your arrival slowly dissipates as the pirates start chattering again. You sigh deeply and scan the crowd. A familiar polar bear catches your attention, and you wave when Bepo meets your gaze.

The mink greets you with a warm smile, one that never fails to lighten your mood, as he nudges Penguin beside him. The pirate rubs his bicep before he realises what Bepo is saying, and then he grins, promptly whacking Shachi while doing so. It's a chain reaction, and soon, all of the Heart Pirates are waving at you from across the deck.

The more you think about it, the more the reason why the rumour was started becomes clear; you're not subtle.

Ikkaku almost squeals when she sees you, and soon she's crossing the grass to squeeze between you and Chopper.

"I've missed you," She whispers, throwing her arm over your shoulders. Chopper looks at her curiously, his head tilting as the cogs in his mind turn.

Sure, you've always been friendly with the Heart Pirates, but that's because you hailed from the same island as Law, Penguin, Bepo, and Shachi before you landed yourself in the East Blue. Simple. Definitely not because you're in love with their captain and have been for the past ten years of your life...

You refuse to think about the fact that you haven't told your crew yet, though, you're confused as to how they couldn't know. Sabaody, Punk Hazard, Dressrosa, Zou, Wano... on all islands, you were attached at the hip despite trying your best to remain indifferent toward each other.

Maybe your downfall was hoping that they could figure it out themselves.

"Strawhat." His timbre is low, one you've heard countless times yet it never fails to give you goosebumps, even on the hottest of days.

"Traffy." Your captain laughs.

"May I talk to your seamstress for a minute?"

The crews fall quiet once more, and the air is thick with anticipation. A legion of owlish eyes set their sights on you, and you shift with discomfort.

Luffy nods and waves his hand in your direction. "Go ahead."

Ikkaku pats your knee before she stands and you watch her skip back to her spot beside Shachi. Law gives you an expectant look and nods his chin toward the Polar Tang.

A low whistle behind you makes you freeze and you glance at Zoro. He shrugs at your raised eyebrows, and smirks. He may not seem to be the sharpest knife in the drawer, but you know he's onto you, and from the looks the rest of your crew throw you, you know they are too.

You brush them off with a flick of your wrist and follow Law to the edge of the Sunny. He's quick to shamble you onto the Tang and lead you inside.

Once the air-tight door is shut, you release your breath.

"You okay?"

Nodding, you take a step toward him. Law watches you intently, his own shoulders relaxing.

"Come 'ere," Law mumbles, tugging you against him. You smile into his chest, your hands splayed across his back. "Missed you."

You look up at him, a smile on your lips. "Missed you more."

Law snorts and leans down, his nose brushing yours. The silence is comforting, especially when you're in it with him, a quiet kind of peace that speaks volumes without saying a word. There’s no need for conversation, no pressure to fill the air with sound. The moment stretches between you like a soft, invisible thread, binding you together without effort.

"Did you see the newspaper a few months back?" Law's voice carries an undercurrent of caution, and from the way he hesitates, you can tell he’s debating whether to bring it up. You hum, your eyes flickering briefly between his.

"The crew asked a lot of questions, but I never let it slip," You say, but there’s a tension in your words.

The need to be careful has grown more important as time passes, as the world becomes more dangerous, like a delicate dance you’ve learned to navigate without drawing too much attention. Still, the questions, the rumours, the assumptions—they're starting to take their toll.

“It shouldn't be like this,” Law murmurs, his voice barely above a whisper. His eyes close briefly, as though he’s trying to block out a reality he can’t change. "But is there any other choice?"

You can hear the desperation in his words, the quiet plea for an answer that seems impossible to answer. This hidden side of you that's tucked away from prying eyes and curious minds has become both a refuge and a cage, something you never wanted it to be.

"No," You answer softly, your voice steady even as your heart tightens in your chest. "There’s no other choice."

You don't need to say more—he knows. Both of you know.

"But I’m going to tell my crew," Your voice cracks the silence, and the statement hangs in the air between you. "They're onto me."

Law exhales, and you can see the conflict in his eyes. The fear of consequences and the possibility of everything unravelling if the wrong person knows eats away at you, and from the way Law's eyes plead, you know it hurts him too.

"Of course you can," He mumbles, his voice low. "I would never tell you what you can and can't do."

His words are firm, but they don’t bring the comfort you're hoping for. You both know that telling is easy, but it’s living with the consequences of that decision that’s the hard part. It’s about what you risk losing if it all falls apart.

You lean back to look at him from a different angle, your heart beating a little faster than it should.

"But you’re scared, aren’t you?" You say quietly, knowing the answer before he even opens his mouth. You know him, you don’t need him to say it aloud. 

"Yeah," He admits softly. "I am. Because I can’t lose you. But I know you don’t want to lie to them either."

There's a raw honesty to his voice that he usually keeps under lock and key when there are other people around. But when it's just you, Law is as vulnerable as he allows himself to be, which is much more than he's ever shown to anybody else.

"It’s not about them," You whisper. "Whatever happens, we need to decide what we can live with. Because if the four seas know we're each other's weakness, there goes our cover of ambiguity, and you've always been mysterious."

There’s a flicker in his eyes, a brief spark of something, and for a second, you think maybe he’s going to speak, probably some remark to dismiss the tension or shift the conversation. But instead, Law chokes out a laugh—quick and unexpected.

It is short, but it carries relief, like an exhale after holding in too much. The tension between you lifts, just slightly, in the aftermath of it. You can’t help but smile, even though the gravity of everything is still hanging just beneath the surface. The humour is a welcome distraction, a brief flicker of light in a room that’s been dark for too long.

And you suppose it has. You haven't seen Law in a few months, and every time you do, it's like the floodgates of your heart open all at once—suddenly, there’s no holding back the torrent of everything you’ve kept buried, everything you've tried to push aside. Nights crying yourself to sleep, endless days stuck in bed replaying the memories, dealing with the longing, and suffering through the unsaid words that have accumulated in the silence between your last meeting and this one.

Law moves one hand to rub the back of his neck, his usual aloofness returning, but softened with your attempt at making him laugh.

“I suppose that would make me less... mysterious,” He murmurs, regarding you with that familiar smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. "No one’s going to take me seriously as a captain if they know this side of me."

Rolling your eyes, you press onto your toes and press your lips against his. You giggle against his mouth when he immediately kisses back, his response urgent, as if he’s been itching for this moment, for permission to bridge the gap between the two of you.

There’s no hesitation in him now, just the raw need that’s been held back, tightly reined in for months on end. His hands find their way to the back of your neck, his fingers threading into your hair, pulling you closer like he never wants to let go.

"They're probably waiting for us," You gasp as Law trails his mouth down your jaw. "Wondering what the hell we're doing."

Law's chuckle is dark as he continues his attack on your neck. "If they can't guess then they're dumber than they look."

Your giggle dies on your lips as Law gently pushes you against the metal wall of the Tang, his leg slipping effortlessly between yours.

"That’s a low bar," You manage through gasps. "Have you seen those guys? They think jumping in the ocean is the epitome of cleanliness."

He laughs against your skin, the sound vibrating through you. "Yeah, okay. But, if your crew don’t know by now, they’re either blind or still trying to figure out if the looks I give you are innocent."

You pull back slightly, glancing at him with mock seriousness. "Innocent? You just bit me on the neck, Law."

He grins, clearly enjoying himself. He ignores your comment, reality creeping back into his mind. "If they don't already know, you tell them, alright? I want you to be happy."

He looks at you like you hung the stars, and there's no other way you would wish him to look at you. You nod and kiss his cheek. "We're not that subtle, though, are we?"

Law furrows his eyebrows and recalls a time from your past, the memory making him smile prematurely. "Like the time you tried to sneak past Bepo and Penguin and knocked over an entire shelf of medical supplies?"

You wince and then laugh. "Well, they didn’t hear that, did they?"

Law tilts his head, his lips curling into that devilish grin. “I think they'd be more concerned if we weren’t doing this. I mean, what else would explain us sneaking away like this?”

You snort, trying to hold back the laugh threatening to escape. "Probably think we're plotting to steal the Sunny's meat stash. Honestly, I'd be more worried about that."

“Hey," Law's voice drops to a mockingly serious tone. "Strawhat would argue that meat is the only thing worth risking a mutiny for."

You burst into laughter, shaking your head. "Guess they really are dumber than they look if they don’t figure out what we’re up to."

"Exactly," Law says with a wink, pulling you back into him, his lips finding your neck again. "Now, stop talking, and let’s just enjoy the mystery.”

—

When you emerge from the Polar Tang, the noise hits you first—the unmistakable sounds of raucous laughter and clinking sake cups over the familiar lull of the ocean. The air is thick with the smell of grilled fish and meat, and the warm, comforting aroma of rice wine.

The moment you step onto the deck, you're greeted by the sight of Franky and Zoro having a challenge to see who can drink the most sake without passing out. Usopp’s telling a wild, drunken story that no one can fully believe (and everyone’s too tipsy to really care if it's true or not, it's funny as hell). Nami’s chatting animatedly with Robin, Ikkaku, and a few women from the Kid Pirates, all of them clearly amused by the antics happening around them. Sanji’s serving food, and from the looks of it, he’s already had a few cups of sake himself—he’s not even trying to hide the gleam in his eyes when he sees you.

Law is as calm as ever, his cold demeanour never faltering as you step into the crowded area, though you catch a flicker of amusement in his gaze. It’s as if the two of you are invisible in plain sight. You exchange a glance—silent communication, the kind that only the two of you can manage—and it’s clear: they don't seem to suspect the rumour to be true.

Zoro waves a half-empty bottle of sake at you as you step towards the group of girls, his grin slightly lopsided. "Hey, hey, you're back! What’s the deal? You two off somewhere plotting how to take the all the sake?"

Nami looks over, catching the tail end of Zoro's question, and you can practically feel the shift in the air as her eyes flicker between you and Law. Her eyebrow arches, the wheels in her head turning. She throws you an exaggerated eye roll, but there's something different in the way she does it now—a knowing, almost playful glint in her eyes.

"Ugh, you guys are too much," She says with a knowing smile playing at the corner of her lips. "That rumour doesn't seem so far-fetched now, does it?"

Seems your crew is a lot sharper than you wished they were.

“Wait, what?” Zoro squints at the two of you as though trying to piece it together. “Are you saying these two really have something goin' on? Thought it was just a dumb rumour..."

Nami’s grin only widens, her arms crossing as she watches you squirm under the weight of her gaze. “Oh, Zoro, you really haven’t figured it out yet? Please, it’s obvious. All the sneaking off when we meet with the Heart Pirates, the looks they give each other when they think no one’s paying attention, her constant sulking when we part from them—come on, you’re not that dense.”

You freeze as Nami starts listing off what seems to be a mental list. Had you really been that naive to think she wouldn't know? Your eyebrows triangulate as you try to catch her gaze, your eyes full of regret. Nami smiles softly when she sees the look and waves her hand. You know she'd never use this against you, but you can see the flicker of hurt in her amber eyes.

Maybe you underestimated your crew's observation skills, or maybe you deemed yourself unworthy of being the centre of attention. Whatever it is, it's making you uneasy.

On the other side of the deck, the volume of chatter softens. The Kid Pirates may not have been paying much attention to the earlier drama, but now they’re looking at you, and every single one of them has just become aware of the situation. Especially Kid, who raises an eyebrow in your direction, leaning forward slightly.

Your heart skips a beat when you realise they have also figured it out, and then the whole keeping it between your two crews turns into the Kid Pirates knowing too. Panic rises in your chest when you register the severity of the situation—if they know, then how easy is it for strangers to do the same?

"Wait, you two...?” Kid starts, his voice rough and a little too loud. His gaze flickers between you and Law, then back at his crew, who are clearly picking up on the vibe. "Huh. That’s not a surprise, but I guess it explains the newspaper thing."

Killer’s grin widens, a knowing glint in his eyes. "So the rumour was true?"

But Law, ever the picture of composure, only tilts his head, a smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth.

"It’s really not that interesting," He says dryly, arms folding across his chest.

Kid is unimpressed with Law's deflection, his eyes flicking back to the rest of the crews, who are now too interested in the drama to look anywhere else. "Guess that rumour was right, after all. Kinda figured you two had something going on, especially after that time you both disappeared on Sabaody while the fight was going on."

You stare at Kid, trying not to let your face betray how uncomfortable the situation has become. "That had nothing to do with this."

The laughter, the teasing, the questions—everything starts to blur together, an overwhelming rush of voices and jabs that twist around in your head, all at once. Your heart hammers in your chest as you struggle to keep up with the rapid-fire chatter.

"That long?" A shocked cry comes from the other side of the deck. Sanji's dramatic approach is unmistakable, his wide eyes filled with genuine concern as he rushes over, his steps quick but careful, like he's about to witness something catastrophic. “You two... really?”

You inhale sharply, trying to steady yourself, but your breath feels shallow, trapped in your throat. The reality of the situation hits you all at once. The entire crew—your family—along with your second family, and the Kid Pirates are staring at you, waiting for some reaction, some explanation.

"Enough."

Law’s voice cuts through the haze, louder than anything you’ve heard in the past few minutes, sharp and commanding enough to grab your attention. It’s like the snap of a whip, but it doesn’t feel threatening—just firm, steady, the sound of someone who’s done with the chaos and isn’t going to let it continue.

The silence is immediate.

"We were going to tell you soon," You say, voice quiet. “But I just don't want to whole world to know, you know, considering the positions of everyone here.”

"Wait," Usopp says, finally grasping the situation. "Are you telling me the rumour has been true this whole time? You’re… you’re really together? And we didn’t notice?!"

“What?” Luffy blurts out, voice high and incredulous. "You two? Together?" He tilts his head, processing the words at lightning speed, then grins ear-to-ear as if he’s just solved the greatest mystery in pirate history. “That’s awesome! I knew it! I knew you two were up to something! You’ve been acting all sneaky, like when I steal food and nobody sees me! I can tell, you know?!”

Nami opens her mouth to scold Luffy but is cut off by Robin. 

"Interesting," She says, but there's no judgment in her tone—just an almost quiet understanding. “I must admit, I’m curious as to how long this has been going on. You both hide it so well.”

Her gaze lingers on you and then shifts to Law. The curiosity in her voice is gentle, like a conversation you might have over a quiet cup of tea. She’s not pressing for answers; she’s just acknowledging the truth without making a big deal out of it. There’s no teasing, no grand statement, just that calm acceptance that feels like an anchor in the middle of the storm that’s just hit the Sunny.

“Few years,” Comes your vague answer, but it satisfies Robin nonetheless. 

“I’m glad you both are happy," the archaeologist says simply, and there’s a softness in her eyes that makes you feel like she truly means it. Your honorary big sister approves of your relationship, and it makes tears prick the corners of your eyes. “Don’t worry about the others too much. They’ll adjust. Just take your time.”

“Adjust, my ass,” Zoro quips, crossing his arms with a sigh, his voice dripping with sarcastic amusement. “So you two were just playing it cool while the rest of us looked like idiots? And you still managed to dodge all my questions? Impressive—"

A loud, exaggerated "yohohoho!" from the back of the crowd echoes across the grass, interrupting Zoro. You glance at Brook, who had been standing somewhat aloof in the corner, a wide grin plastered across his skeletal face. His arms are thrown dramatically into the air like he’s just witnessed the most epic romance of the century.

“Well, well, well, it seems that true love has bloomed!” He says, his voice full of glee and a touch of theatrical flair. “I can see it now!” Brook continues, hands raised to the sky. “'The Pirate King’s Crew: A Hidden Love Unveiled!' A ballad of passion! A symphony of suspense!” He pauses dramatically, looking back at you and Law with a gleam in his eye. “You two should definitely star in it... or, perhaps, just provide the inspiration. Yohohoho!"

“I’m glad someone’s enjoying this,” You say with an uninhibited giggle.

Law shakes his head, though he’s clearly amused by the skeleton’s antics. "If he writes a song about us, I'm throwing him off the ship."

“Oh, don’t worry, captain!” Brook says brightly. “I’ll make sure the song is perfectly respectful! There will be no disrespectful verses in this one! It’ll be a tale of true love!”

Nami facepalms and ignores the musician. “I told you guys they were too subtle. You seriously think you can get away with anything with me around?” Her eyes flick to Law. "But I’m guessing you didn’t exactly want to make this public right now. And with Kid's crew around, I can see why."

“Hey!—”

“It wasn’t about hiding it forever,” Law cuts in, his voice steady and calm. “We just didn’t want to deal with the... complications. Not with everyone constantly looking over our shoulders.”

“So I assume Law’s crew has known for a lot longer than we have?” Robin says. “Considering you’ve known them since childhood?”

"I'm sorry." Your nod is sheepish, though there’s no anger, only mild surprise from your crew.

“We didn’t mean to keep it from you guys…” Bepo calls from his spot on the bow with Shachi and Penguin. “It was just... well, her and Law’s business, you know?”

“We’d rather keep this under wraps,” Law announces, his glare pointed at Kid. “So don’t go running your mouth, got it?”

Kid throws his arms up in defence, a smug chuckle leaving his lips. “Don’t care that much anyway, Trafalgar. No need to get your panties in a twist.”

“Got it!” Luffy laughs, shoving a hunk of meat into his mouth. You trust your captain with your life, so his easy answer is enough for you.

Law tuts and turns to you. He looks slightly pale at the realisation that people know, but the relief in his posture is evident. 

There’s an air of collective understanding in the air as the chatter starts up again. Usopp is back telling his stories to the women, and Zoro throws another empty sake bottle at Franky’s feet before the cyborg can finish his drink.  

You wish to explain your side to Nami, but she looks content sipping on her cocktail and conversing with the Kid Pirates. You'd tell her all about it when this meeting is over and you have a clearer head.

“Well, now that that’s settled,” You say, turning to Law with a smirk. “How about we finally get some rest?”

“And give them more ammunition?” Law asks, the corners of his lips curling into a smile.

You sigh, glancing back at your crew. “Not like we’ll escape it ever again…”

And as you look around at your family, both the Straw Hats and the Heart Pirates, as well as the Kid Pirates, who are revelling in the gossip, you can’t help but feel a warm sense of relief. It’s out there now. No more secrets, no more hiding.

And you wouldn’t have it any other way.

[dufferpuffer]

In love with the idea Wizards get so up their own ass about spells they forget basic physical concepts. Also love that Jacob is the sort of guy to sometimes solve problems by kicking or punching them and running away I love you Jacob.

But like... the concept that Wizards see Muggles as 'violent' because they need to use their hands and feet for so much? Cool. Jacob gets overwhelmed by Newt so he punches him in the face (i think with his briefcase?) and just... leaves. It's inelegant, the most brutalist way to solve his issue - surely that'd seem uncouth?

When you can use magic, the idea of mechanical machines or harnessing natural phenomena like electricity might seem base and inelegant, too. (Arthur doesn't buy into this, he thinks it has its own elegance)

Wizards have a deep culture of not leaving a trace of themselves, yeah? Keeping things hidden, light, finger-print-less - not being able to see the mechanics of how something functions - is important and a sign of high skill. For Muggles it looks cooler if you can see physicality. Seeing the gears of a clock ticking against eachother, or the complex circuit board of a computer, is cooler than just having something 'work'. Does that make sense...?

To a Muggle, seeing Jacob kick in a door in the face of a Witch failing to unlock a complex spell is "Haha thats my boy B^) you're so cool and your thought process rational and logical." He isn't being needlessly complex, trying to fit a square into a circular hole - there's a form of elegance in just picking the circle.

But to a Magical person I doubt they'd see it like that? How would they see it... like... Naive? Short-sighted? Everyone will be able to tell the door was opened, the lock broken in a way they cannot fix. it ISN'T 'logical', it's being a haphazard moron.

It is fun to imagine what the Wizarding cultural viewpoint of things would be, and how that might affect how they see eachother.

Perhaps to Queenie, raised in a country that so highly values the hiding of magic - yet struggles with abilities she can't control - seeing someone brazenly solve problems not by the 'normal way' of trying to be subtle but simply letting loose is like... gratifying? I mean she's definitely into it. She likes when her natural magical prowess is openly gawked over, she likes when she doesn't have to hide anything and be seen as amazing. Shes so fucking weird, I like her

wizards 0 - 1 muggles

[corkinavoid]

DPxDC Zero Gravity

Things Justice League knows about Danny Phantom:

He's dead (why, how, and for how long is unclear)

He's generally on the 'good' side (but contingency plans have been set up in case of 'future evil self' resurfacing, by Danny's own suggestion)

He's a figure of authority among other dead/neverborn/otherworldly/eldritch/magical beings (however, it's unclear to what kind of authority he holds and why)

He's dating one of the Bats (unclear to who, but none of them confirmed nor denied the fact, which is a confirmation on its own)

He absolutely hates only two things: toast and Christmas (neither of them explained)

His powerset is so wide that he can't even fully recount it (unclear if it's because he doesn't remember all his abilities or if he can't keep track of the new ones popping up spontaneously)

He's hot [whoever added this, you're not wrong, but I'm watching you - O.]

He has a grudge against Flash (unclear to why, but Flash seems to know the reason and won't budge regardless)

Of course, there are many more things to know about Danny Phantom, but they are mostly suspicions, rumors, and speculations. Like how sometimes the boy seems distracted and bored as if he is only going through a pre-written script; a sign of repeatedly going through the same day a few times too many, as the other time-travellers say. Or like how sometimes he knows too much - the boy is an expert in Kryptonian biology, to Clark's great surprise, and is more knowledgeable about Olympus politics than Diana herself.

There are also little things that are hard to notice and even harder to ignore once you do. How he never talks about family but likes listening to others talk about it. How he pointedly stays away from the medbay and any kind of medical staff. How he stops every time he passes one of the giant windows on the main floor of the Watchtower, smiling dreamily at the sight of vast, open space beyond it.

And then, there's The Thing that no one addresses.

When Danny Phantom doesn't pay attention, he unknowingly nullifies gravity.

The first time it happened, Bruce thought the Watchtower's artificial gravity collapsed. However, he very quickly realized that it was a local occurrence - only a few rooms and a hallway were affected - and, right in the center of it, was Danny, reading a book he borrowed (stolen) from the Wayne manor library.

The boy himself never noticed it. Which made sense, given that he defied gravity all on his own, always floating in the air above the floor.

But the others never acknowledged it either, treating the sudden absence of gravity as a sign of one, Danny appearing somewhere around, and two, him being in a good, if a bit absent, mood.

All in all, it's not the strangest thing that happens at the Watchtower on a daily basis.

And, besides, it's kind of fun.

¤¤¤

Danny, floating in the middle of the game room at Wayne manor, deeply engrossed in a video game: Eat this, sucker!

Tim, using his toes and knees to keep himself from floating up from the couch, not wanting to distract Danny from their match: Oh, you're going down.

Titus in the background:

¤¤¤

Bart, in the middle of a conversation with Kon:

Kon: ...

Bart, looking down at the cup on the floor: ... I guess he left?..

Kon: He literally went through a giant glowing portal two minutes ago, five feet away from you, but that's how you figure it out?

Bart: I have a short attention span, anyway-

¤¤¤

Barry, opening a bag of chips just for all the contents and himself as well to start floating: I swear he does this on purpose, I fucking swear.

¤¤¤

Red Tornado, coming into the training hall of Mount Justice: ...

Young Justice:

Red Tornado: I take it Danny is visiting. I'll leave you to it, then.

¤¤¤

Bruce, walking out of the conference room at the Watchtower to see this on the other end of the hallway, internally: He may be coming this way, I should warn the others in the room.

Bruce, a second later, because he is a little shit deep inside: On the other hand, it's a great surroundings awareness drill, so maybe I shouldn't.

[l0vergirls]

take the reins

you've dug too deep, but there doesn't seem to be a downside to that.

batfam x reader

wc: 1382

a/n: i started watching mr. robot (plz no spoilers im literally on the 3rd episode) and fell in love with it and .. started thinking !!!.. & this is lowkey set up like the start of a series, but i'll see how it goes considering i have nothing plannef at all. .. pls do send asks about this story and this reader since i would love love love to expand on it hehe

It was as if time had stopped for a moment.

You found out a lot of secrets. Secrets that can put people behind bars. What do you do with those? Send in an anonymous tip to the rare non corrupt cop, of course. You like to think of it as being a non-violent vigilante. Instead of running around Gotham in a costume and beating the bad guys within an inch of their life, you sit comfortably behind your computer screen and dig.

You dig for anything and everything you can find on everyone you encounter. Why? Maybe it's the unrelenting feeling of needing control, or the fear of simply not knowing.

By breaking something down to its source code, you're baring it all; the rights, the wrongs, everything that makes or breaks you. You won't get caught off guard if you just know how something— someone works.

Sometimes, you find nothing noteworthy. Your neighbor in 405, for example. The first time you had passed her, she sneered at you. That was good enough reason to hack her.

The woman at 405 is Emma Davis, aged 35, 5'7, date of birth: May 15th. Studied at NYU, worked a desk job at some company in Star City before getting relocated to Gotham. Yeah, I wouldn't be ecstatic either. Brings home a different person every week. Occasionally smokes weed. Also your occasional hook up. Don't make decisions while intoxicated.

Emma Davis is just a run of the mill office worker, with the same vices as most people. Nobody special.

But this? This could get you in serious shit, if you aren't in for it already.

Bruce Wayne, date of birth: February 19th, 6'2, CEO of Wayne Enterprises, adoptive father of multiple children, and... crime fighting vigilante at night.

Bruce Wayne is Batman.

It wasn't hard to connect the dots after uncovering the man behind the cowl; you figured all his children were Robins at one point. Even the dead one. Except the dead one isn't really dead, is he?

Richard Grayson, Jason Todd, Tim Drake, Damian Wayne— all crime fighting vigilantes. What a family. You wonder who else you can unmask.

Fuck, you need to go home. Doing this at a coffee shop was a mistake, but damn it, their connection was fast. Too many people, too great a chance of a breakdown.

Close all the tabs, all the windows, scrub yourself clean of all evidence of intrusion. Don't leave a trace.

Shut down the laptop. Leave.

The sun is still out, they wouldn't be around yet. Everyone knows they all work at the dead of night.

You drown out the meaningless conversations around you, and you're on autopilot, heading to the apartment that you call home.

<>

The Waynes pride themselves on their secrecy. Hiding their vigilante alter egos behind carefully crafted lies. They built walls as tall as the buildings with Bruce's name plastered across the front.

It was a little too late when Alfred Pennyworth received an alert from the Batcomputer. Alfred sent all the vigilantes a message, and they came running in. After all, a security breach is detrimental to all of them.

The butler found a location, The Last Drop. A café right in the middle of the city.

Bruce looked through all of the files, recordings, reports— everything. The hacker didn't take anything, and didn't make copies. He deduced that whoever it was simply read.

That's no good either. Someone out there is aware of who they are, who the man under the mask is.

"Alfred, pull up CCTV footage at The Last Drop at the time of the hack."

On the screen were the grainy videos of the café, with at least 6 different angles. It was fairly crowded, filled with busybodies coming and going through the door. With 7 people on their laptops, they could narrow down the search for the culprit. But not by much.

Until two figures left the café at the same time, approximately a few minutes after the breach, but neither of them were sitting next to each other.

It was one or the other.

Tyler Hess, banker. Went to school in the city, stayed in the city. Clean records, comes from an upper middle class family. Nothing of note.

[Y/N] [L/N], cybersecurity engineer at LabyrinthTech, and one of the more favored employees. Born and raised in Gotham, graduated college a year early, and by all accounts, highly intelligent. Clean records, but skilled enough to be the one behind the hack.

"Well, I think we found our suspect. What're you gonna do about it?" Jason bristled, apprehensive that this person knew all about him.

"'You'? What, you've got your own plan?" Dick retorted.

"Maybe. Not like I'm gonna hurt the little thing," he spat. It was invasive enough that you'd hacked into their records, he thinks a little scare is warranted.

Bruce interrupted, "No, I'll deal with this. They accessed our data for a reason."

<>

It was inevitable that one of them was gonna pay you a visit tonight.

After locking yourself in the apartment, you figured a quick nap would be a good distraction from it. And it was, for a couple hours. Upon waking, you walked into the living room and lo and behold, vengeance himself was standing in your apartment.

"Can't say I didn't expect this, really," you spoke carefully, avoiding his gaze.

He grunted, "Then you know why I'm here. Why'd you do it? What do you gain from figuring out our identities?"

Out of the corner of your eye, you see a shadow moving across your window.

"Nothing. I just got curious. All billionaires are shady, and they're all hiding something. You were, by far, the most suspicious," you let out a breath. "Don't worry, that's not what anyone else thinks, at least not anyone that can do what I do,"

You hear another voice joining the conversation.

"Do what? Invade people's privacy? You should really be careful where you stick your nose in, hacker."

If looks could kill, you'd be dead ten times over. God, this guy's intense even through that helmet.

Jason Todd, aka Red Hood, date of birth: August 16th, date of death: April 27th, 6'0, occasional smoker, former Robin. Likes pot roast.

Batman— no, Bruce Wayne interjected, "Suspicious?"

"Might just be me, but I found it hard to believe the richest man in the world would be throwing so much money into this dump of a city without an ulterior motive," you look at one of the ears on his cowl, it was almost cute, "Every other rich guy did. Whatever money they put out, it came back to them ten times bigger. Nobody really felt for this city."

That was your angle? The two men went still at your somber admittance. Sure, Gotham wasn't the best city, but that's why they did what they did, wasn't it? They had the slightest urge to show you that they really did care. And perhaps show off a bit.

Jason shifted, "You did it because of a gut feeling?"

You shrugged, "It was right, wasn't it? Something was up, just not... in the way I expected,"

It wasn't everyday you uncover a vigilante that turned out to be Gotham's beloved billionaire.

"Anyway, congratulations on not being an entirely bad guy. 'm not gonna tell anyone," you murmured, "not like anyone's gonna believe me,"

You see Red Hood look at Batman, a silent conversation was, no doubt, occurring.

The two vigilantes head for your window— do these guys ever use the front door?

Bruce turns to you, "Try not to do it again,"

"No promises," you huffed. "But your defenses could use some work. Comms, body cams, and other recorded footage— they were just there."

Red Hood's helmet glinted as he tilted his head at you. You shivered.

"Right, won't do it again," and that was that.

It was like they were never here.

What a night.

<>

You scrutinized the letter in your hands.

A job offer for a position you've never interviewed for. At Wayne Enterprises.

Batman works quick, that's for sure.

The pay was good, very good. You reckon there wasn't a single complaint about that.

Hm, they're making sure you're under their watch. If you were a threat, you'd be easier to keep an eye on. Easier to control.

You weren't one to give up control, but potentially having access to the city’s… well, everything, was something too tempting to give up.

Looks like LabyrinthTech was losing their best employee.

[tricoloreddango]

☆ Struggling to take their size ☆

Jing Yuan, Dr Ratio, Wriothesley, Zhongli x fem reader. [Inspired by Mydei version]

cw: smut, soft dom, praise, size kink, Zhongli having draconic features, breeding kink for Zhongli, fear of pain during intimacy. [back to m.list]

Not suitable for minors!

—

Jing Yuan

Patient, gentle, warm. Jing Yuan has been always like this with you, and the current situation didn’t make him any different. Struggling under him on bed, your legs wrapped tightly around his waist, he felt a sense of duty to help you deal with his size—especially when you were crying out for him like this.

“Jing Yuan… it won’t fit!” you whined sadly, your legs tightening around him, as you felt frustrated that he could have fitted only the tip of his fat cock into you so far.

Jing Yuan chuckled, the lightness of his laugh meant to tell you that the situation is not as bad if he’s here, gripping your hips gently. “Is this how little faith you have in me?” he teased with a warm smile, before he leaned down to press a kiss onto forehead. “I’ll take care of you, don’t worry, my dear.”

Holding an eye contact with you in this position, he attempted to get you to loosen up for him, by teasing and stirring your wet entrance and folds with his tip, while peppering your face in little presses of his lips. Gently moving his hips back and forth, Jing Yuan was keeping the tip caught in your hole, drawing out even more arousal from you. Just his tip made your tight hole feel parted away for him.

You were given a messy, sloppy kiss while he kept relaxing you with his cock like this, until he was finally able to push inside, letting you feel the fullness and stretch you desperately missed for the moment prior; even if now Jing Yuan’s cock felt as if it was splitting you apart. He wiped the kiss drool off of your now dazed face.

“See? You opened up so nicely for me… just leave the rest to me,” he reassured with a tighter grip on your hips. Jing Yuan started with a slower pace to let you get used to him even more, but kept the strokes nicely deep and strong for his beloved, cursing quietly at how much pleasure your tight heat was giving him already. He even lowered his heavy body on top of yours, to let his weight reassure you further, and for him to enjoy the warmth and softness of your own body.

Dr Ratio

“If you won’t stop squirming, it won’t really help your case, you realize that?” Veritas sighed. He was lying behind you on your side, on your shared bed, one of your legs bent forward to uncover your pussy for him, but you just wouldn’t let him do his job. Veritas knew you had a tendency to unnecessarily stress yourself out during intimacy, worried about his size even if he had proven you many times that there’s nothing to be stressed about. And while Veritas could be patient and methodical if needed to be, he required your cooperation too.

“What are you even so worried about, hm?” he asked more quietly with a gentle press of kiss onto your ear, the low timber sending a chill through you. His left arm was under your body, wrapped around your torso and letting its hand fondle your breast. The other hand, kept that leg forward steadily.

“What if it doesn’t fit this time? Maybe I’m—“ you said worryingly, but he didn’t let you finish the sentence. “I’ll make it fit, as I always do,” he hushed you sternly. He did not mean to be rough with you, but sometimes it was needed to bring you back.

His heavy cocked rubbed itself against your slit, right between your lips, making you stop your talk and moan instead. The glide was smooth, with the extensive foreplay Veritas has given you a moment ago… it was just your anxiety holding you back. But him playing with your breasts like that, his cock frying your nerves or your slit and rubbing against your clit too, you were giving into the pleasure instead.

“Veritas…” you moaned out, throwing your head back against his hard chest. “Yes, I’m here,” he said more softly. His hand on your breast slipped down between your legs instead, now circling on your clit with more pressure than just strokes of his cock. He kept his right hand on your thigh steady, its strength not letting it close under the sweet stimulation.

Soon, he was slipping his cock into you with ease as his arms held you caged, and your worries were now replaced with you spilling out whines for more. So full of Veritas, feeling a prickling warmth of having your walls stretched for him, needing to grab onto the bedsheets ahead of you… even breathing was getting difficult, entirely overwhelmed by the pressure of him inside your pussy.

“Now, no need to whine anymore… you’ve taken me so well after all,” he said with a pride at his results, and his hand lifted itself up from between your thighs to turn your head to the side, by your chin, and give you a heated kiss. It was then when his heavy thrusts began, and he pressed his body tighter to yours, tightening his jaw as you were provoking him to be too vocal for his own liking. Veritas buried his face in your neck, muting his low-toned moans, as he set on the challenge to have his balls slap your skin hard with his fast pace and strong force, forcing your folds to spread for his wide girth each move.

No stress was left in you, other than the one of you wanting to come.

Wriothesley

You were impaled on Wriothesley’s fatness of his cock already, resting on top of him with his hand on your hips and giving him such a perfect view of your lovely body, but… you were too scared to move. Wriothesley filled you up so nicely, you could feel him put a pressure on your cervix and still not be inside fully, base remaining unwrapped by you; but you didn’t have a mental fortitude to move when you were so full.

“No… Wriothesley, I can’t do it like that!” you cried out. “You’re too big!”

“I’m too big?” he said cockily, with a rub of his hand on your thigh, meant to be calming. “You say that almost every night, and yet here you are again, all nicely filled up by me?” he feigned confusion.

The hand on your thigh went up to your clit, circling it around, even more when you moaned. “Y-yes, but… it’s different in this position. I feel like a skewer,” you said shakily with a whimper at another roll.

“Should I help my beautiful girlfriend then?” he inquired lowly, his eyes once again going up and down over your bare and impaled figure on top of his body. Seeing you so full of him… he wished he could abandon any duties and fuck you for the rest of the weekend on this bed, in this room in the fortress.

When you nodded eagerly, he grabbed your hips again with his big and scarred hands. “Alright, anything my princess demands…” he teased with a laughter ending up breathy, because when he started to grind into you to help you ease, the squeeze of your pussy was bit too much for even him and he groaned. He rolled his hips back and forth, letting your walls be teased in pleasurable ways with his cock grinding inside of you, making you both crazy. Suddenly, it didn’t feel that scary. Not when you he was hitting against your g-spot with grinds like this.

It felt so good, you didn’t even notice when Wriothesley was lifting you up a little, and helping you with small thrusts. Your pussy swallowed his size eagerly, and you felt stretched on him to the maximum, but it was no longer unbearable.

“There we go, all ready for me…” Wriothesley praised, and lifted you off his cock by your hips even higher, before forcing you down on his cock more harshly. You let out a silent scream, but felt gladder than ever, and had to quickly grab onto muscular chest to hold onto, as he took you for a ride.

Zhongli

Your lover was more on a leaner side, so the first time you gave yourself to him, you didn’t expect his size to be… that. Dragon physics, almost disproportionally big to his size, were a problem for you even years later.

Your bottom hanging in the air, your face down onto the pillow—it was a position as if Zhongli was being meant to breed his mate. The spread of you like this was very enticing to him and his nature. Even when you squirmed and cried, telling him it will hurt.

“Will hurt?” Zhongli asked with a small amusement, his hands rubbing your sides as he was behind you on his knees, just the tip of his thick cock inside. “Hurt”… as if Zhongli would ever let this happen. As if he didn’t always make you desperate for more.

“My love, I always make myself fit into you in the end. You can relax by my side, I won’t let it hurt,” he said calmly, before he lowered his head to kiss between your shoulder blades. It made you feel more comfortable, but you still were anxious by how your hole kept trying to force his cock out with how tight your pussy felt on him.

“But it’s too big…” you complained with a sniffle. “It won’t enter!”

“Shhh…” Zhongli kept his tip out and in, moving his cock like that, and put his finger into your hole, right next to his tip to help you make space inside your sweet walls. You mewled at additional pressure, but his finger quickly rewarded you with a rub against your best spot. “Zhongli…” you whined, feeling fuller and better.

“You’re doing great…” he praised, leaning to kiss your nape. When your pleasure and wetness grew even more, Zhongli started to finally push his thickness into you, making you gasp. “Yes…!” you were so relieved, even if even more overwhelmed by your walls being forced to accommodate for Zhongli.

Your hips up in the air wriggled, your tears stained the pillow with your face below, and with a sight as erotic as this, Zhongli had no choice but to start fucking you roughly. He thought of how you, soon, will be full of his seed dripping out of you, and was fantasizing that one day, it’ll turn into something more—in any case, your belly will be left bloated in both scenarios.

His hands on your hips, he snapped your lower body against his abdomen back and forth, his balls slapping against your clit. “You took all of me. Now you’ll let me have you properly, won’t you?” he asked through teeth, hissing at how much your pussy squeezed on his cock.

You could have only nodded into the pillows in ecstasy.

[lostatsea-blog]

When the Camera's Not Looking

Alexia Putellas x Football Reader

Sometimes media responsibility can be too much

Football was your life. Football had been your life since you were a small child growing up in the North of England. All the times you were told girls couldn’t have a career in football made you even more determined to prove them wrong. Football had taken you all over the world to many different countries allowing you to play in many different teams; until you arrived in Barcelona. Football was your life and football had also given you the love of your life.

You had known of Alexia Putellas for most of your career (any football player who didn’t was either lying or not that into football). You had watched her game and admired her skill; you had even gone head-to-head in a couple of insane matches but Alexia the football icon and Alexia the person were two very different things.

You had been captivated from the second you arrived on the training pitch. Her fierce determination, unwavering dedication and drive to succeed were well known. You imaged she would be a larger-than-life character, arrogant and cocky like most top level footballers were; what you imaged could not have been further from who she was. What had captivated you was her gentle nature, her shy smile, her generosity of spirit and the nerves that were present in every situation except on the pitch. The more you got to know her, the more you wanted to wrap her up and protect her from the world and its judgement.  

Very quickly you started to seek her out both during training and after training. You connected well on the pitch and you were eager to get to know her off the pitch. She had been reluctant at first determined to maintain her captain façade but then to your surprise, one day after training she agreed to get coffee with you. From that first coffee date neither of you could deny the chemistry between you. The conversation had flowed easily despite the language issue (your Spanish wasn’t the best and her English was a work in progress) and the playful banter more than a little flirtatious. It did not take long for your teammates to pick up on the changes occurring in your relationship.  

As the months passed, Alexia started to let down more and more of her boundaries and that is when you became aware of how much her media responsibilities took out of her. She would be filled with anxiety beforehand afraid that she would mess up or make herself look stupid; afraid that she would let the club down or somehow embarrass her family. What people did not realise was that while Alexia loved football, she hated the attention that came with it. You could read her anxiety in every photoshoot, in every advert and in every interview and you wished that you could whisk her away. Instead, you settled for being her safety blanket. When she had busy media days where she had to keep up her persona, she would come home to you. She would crawl onto your lap and bury her face into your shoulder while you held her. You would squeeze her tightly and feel her release a deep breath against your skin as the tension left her body, then she would fall asleep against you. Alexia was too important to hide away from the world but once it was done and the wood of your door blocked out the world, you would be the safety she needed to drop the persona and just be Ale.  

[dirtyyoungthingg]

its been a long day. between school and extracurriculars, i am exhausted and stressed. i need a release. bad.

what better way to relieve my stress than fucking myself silly?

i walk into my bedroom, already smiling thanks to the plan my sweet little brain came up with. my smile drops when i realize you're sitting on my bed.

next to my toys.

"d-dad...--"

"what the fuck are these, hm?" you gesture to the two toys on the bed. i immediately shrink into myself, embarrassed.

"...dunno...."

"dont play dumb with me." you stand and grab a fistful of my hair, bringing my gaze up to meet yours. you glance back over at the toys. "do you even know how to use those?" nervously, i nod.

"i-i'm a big girl."

you can't help but smile a little. "yeah?" you throw me down onto the bed. "show dad. let me see you be a big girl, and maybe i'll let you keep these." i scramble onto my back, my heart pounding in my ears as i try to wrap my brain around whats happening.

my dad wants to watch me fuck myself.... my thighs squeeze together as you settle onto the foot of the bed. you tut at me and place your hands on my knees.

"don't be shy now. its nothing i havent seen before." your mind flashes back to our special bathtimes. how you loved catching glimpses of my sweet little pussy underneath the bubbles. how you'd use your special soap on me, as long as i didnt tell anyone.

"but dad--"

you spread my legs open suddenly, my skirt raising to show off my printed pink panties. "shut the fuck up. take those off." my face is flushed as i comply, sliding out of my panties. you grab them from me and bring them to your nose. "god... you always smell so good." i shiver at the cold air hitting my wet cunt. you set the panties down and reach to rub your thumb lightly against my sweet little pussy lips. your other hand moves to grab the first toy, a small bullet vibrator. you smile at it for a moment. "where'd you get this guy, huh?"

"th-the mall... one of the stores sells stuff like that in the back..." you turn it on, and a small but consistent buzzing sound fills the air. you raise your eyebrows as you click it back off.

"not bad." you press it into my hands. "go on. show me how you use it."

i feel dizzy, nervous. this is wrong, you shouldnt be making me do this. and yet, i'm so wet, and i was planning on playing with myself anyway... maybe its not so bad that dad's here.... i bite my lower lip as i turn the small vibe back on and begin to run it over my little pussy lips. a breath catches in my throat when i brush over my swollen clit. you take another deep breath from my panties as you watch, palming yourself through your pants. i press the vibe to my clit as i watch. "g-god... dad...."

"thaaaaat's right baby. just like that." you unbuckle your belt and pull your cock out, wrapping the soft pink fabric of my panties around the length of it as you begin to pump your cock with your fist. the sight is making me lightheaded with lust. i squirm as the vibrator presses harder onto my clit, letting out a moan. "good girl..."

you glance over at the other toy, a sizable dildo. you grab it with your other hand and look down at my glistening cunt. so small and sweet... "...can you even fit this in that sweet little hole, baby?"

i sheepishly look away, shaking my head no. "so-sometimes if i try i can get it halfway in, but it really hurts..." you can't help but laugh a little.

"you just need daddy's help, baby." you grab the vibrator and click it off. i can't help but whimper a little and squirm at the lack of touch. you smile. "turn over, raise that cute little ass up for me." i comply, rolling over onto my stomach and putting my ass up in the air. my skirt from school is still on, and you have to slide it up so you can get to my bare ass. yet another reminder that i'm your daughter, your baby... you shouldn't be doing this... and yet you continue.

you use the head of the dildo and lazily drag it over my opening, humming softly as you see the wetness that collects on the toy. "you're so wet... i'm sure we could fit this in if we tried. you're a big girl, right? thats why you have these toys?" i nod, too flustered to really speak.

"i-i'm a big girl..."

"that's right baby. you're a big girl. and that's why you're gonna take all of this, deep inside your sweet little kiddo cunt." you press the toy into me, slowly, working it in and out of my pussy bit by bit. my eyes screw shut as i whine. i'm still just so tight, so small... you bite your lower lip in concentration as you press the dildo even further inside me suddenly. i gasp and try to squirm away. it's too much, too deep...! i am met with a swift slap on my ass that makes me yelp and causes tears to spring from my eyes.

"ah-ah. that's enough of that, young lady." your tone is gruff, and makes me shudder inwardly. you manhandle me back into the proper position. "you wanted to be a big girl. owning these toys, fucking yourself with them. acting like such a whore. you're lucky this is how i'm choosing to correct this behavior." you smack the other cheek to punctuate your point. "i could've just thrown you down, raped you right here." you begin to thrust the dildo in and out of my cunt quickly, ignoring my pleas for you to stop. "coulda just taken everything ive ever wanted. your mouth, your pussy, your ass..."

i'm sobbing at this point as you relentlessly fuck me with the toy. "coulda treated you like the whore you are. traipsing around with those little skirts, those tiny tops that leave nothing to your father's imagination, much less anyone elses." you've driven the toy all the way into me at this point. i'm crying, my brain overloaded from pain and pleasure.

"t-too m-much--! p-please, stop!"

"shut the fuck up." you use your free hand to press my face into the pillows. "god, do you ever stop talking?" the toys pace is too much. you notice how much i'm clenching around it. "and look at that. you're close. you can't be having that bad of a time if you're that close to cumming while your dad plays with you how he sees fit." my cries are muffled by the pillows as i beg you over and over to stop, please god stop, it's too much.

"no, baby. i'm not gonna stop. not until you cum all over your special big girl toy for daddy. c'mon, i know you want to. you know you want to. cum for me. cum for dad."

and just like that, the dizzying feeling reaches its peak. i cum with the toy deep inside me, my sweet cries ringing out as i throw my head back. you slow your movements down until you stop.

"that's my girl." you slide the dildo out of my cunt. "i knew you could do it. and look at that! you took the whole thing! such a big girl for daddy, such a good girl."

i'm too much of a dazed mess to fight you off as you slide your pants down and position yourself over me. you line your cock up with my twitching cunt, humming softly.

"now i get to show you that you don't need those silly toys. all a girl needs is her father."

[mindless-existence1]

First kiss w shadow? Would the reader have to be the first one who does it, or is it him?? How would it even go down 😮‍💨😮‍💨

Enjoy, thanks for sending and ask ❤️

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~♡~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The soft evening glow filtered through the window, casting a warm light on the room. You and Shadow had spent the past couple of hours together, a comfortable quiet settling between you as you talked, played a casual game, and just... existed in each other’s company.

It was always like this with Shadow—calm yet charged with an unspoken energy that neither of you ever quite addressed. You weren’t oblivious to the way he sometimes glanced at you when he thought you weren’t looking, or how his usual stoic demeanor softened around you.

And you couldn’t deny the way your heart raced whenever he was close. Tonight felt different, though. Shadow had been quiet for a while now, sitting next to you on the couch, his arms resting on his thighs as he leaned forward slightly.

He looked deep in thought, his crimson eyes focused on the floor. “Hey, you okay?” you asked, nudging him lightly with your elbow.He glanced at you, his gaze lingering just a little too long before he quickly looked away.

“Yeah. I just... I wanted to tell you something,” he said, his voice steady but quieter than usual.You tilted your head, curious. “What is it?”

He hesitated, his jaw tightening as if he was searching for the right words. You could see the faintest hint of red creeping up the tips of his ears, and it made your heart skip a beat. Shadow? Flustered? That was new.

“I’ve been...” He paused again, clenching his fists slightly before letting them relax. “I’ve been meaning to say this for a while, but...” His words trailed off, and his gaze darted to you briefly before falling to the floor again.

“Shadow,” you said softly, leaning a little closer. “It’s just me. You can tell me anything, you know that.” That seemed to make it worse. His ears flattened slightly, and his blush deepened.

“It’s not... that simple,” he muttered. You could practically see the internal battle he was waging with himself, and you couldn’t help but find it endearing. Shadow, the Ultimate Lifeform, was struggling to find the words.

As he tried again to speak, his body seemed to act on its own. Slowly, unconsciously, he leaned toward you, his crimson eyes flickering to your lips for just a second before darting away again.

Your breath hitched as the space between you shrank. You could feel the tension crackling in the air, and your heart raced in your chest. It was clear what he wanted to say, even if the words wouldn’t come out.

And as his face drew closer to yours, his eyes searching yours for some kind of permission or reassurance, you decided to close the distance for him.

Gently, you cupped his face in your hands, your thumbs brushing against the soft fur of his cheeks. His eyes widened in surprise, but he didn’t pull away. Instead, he froze, his gaze locking onto yours. “Shadow,” you whispered, a small smile tugging at your lips.

“You don’t have to say it.” Then, before he could respond, you leaned in and pressed your lips to his. The kiss was soft and tentative at first, but it didn’t take long for Shadow to respond.

His hands found their way to your waist, holding you gently as he leaned into you, his usual stoicism melting away in the warmth of the moment. When you finally pulled back, his cheeks were an even deeper shade of red, and his eyes were wide, but there was a softness in them you’d never seen before.

“I...” He cleared his throat, his voice quieter than usual. “I was trying to say that I...”You chuckled, brushing your thumb against his cheek. “I know,” you said, cutting him off gently.

He blinked at you, still processing what had just happened. Then, slowly, a small, genuine smile broke across his face—a rare sight that made your chest feel light. “You didn’t let me finish,” he muttered, though there was no real annoyance in his tone.

“I think you said enough,” you teased, leaning your forehead against his.Shadow let out a quiet sigh, his hands still resting on your waist as he held you close. “I guess I did.”

The two of you stayed like that for a moment, the unspoken feelings that had hung between you for so long finally laid bare. It was simple, yet it was everything.

[impyssadobsessions]

More DMC x DP XD Danny hanging out with the crew uwu. Ghost be his mum uwu. ;3 Imagine Danny like 16-17 and since Patty did always claim she date someone younger (even if its a joke) she does get a mini-crush on danny. But then they become cool friends uwu Patty sticking up for him and showing him around properly. And when Dante away for long periods he crashes with Nero and them. Ends up being Nico's driving buddy. OH NEAT THING IS- I imagine like Danny helping dust and clean and accident knock open a case that had the swords from dmc3 (Agni and Rudra) Which Dante had cooped up because they wouldn't shut up again. Which then becomes Danny's problem and Dante nopes out letting kid handle them. They end up becoming rings for him though since he has such an affinity to magic he can make use of their full power. (Granting him control of fire n ice which he lost since he got into this world) Which is why he can casually light Nico's cigarettes to keep her from trying to find a lighter while driving :D I explained the situation poorly its much funnier situation and makes sense in my head. But I can't draw it out atm T w T. Danny bumping his fist to shut them up sometimes. Dante like uwu you felt sorry for them kiddo uou. They can be annoying and butt in- but Danny also encourages it... to annoy Dante in revenge =w=b But only when Dante is around. XD For having him fight them. Which they fought him- so he could claim ownership =w= And then the thing with his mom. Sadly it is a character from DMC I killed off >> and have to work around to make the storyline work with the other dmc titles. But I felt like She would work well for this kind of story, and also just pain :D ;w; I actually like her.. I swear... But I imagine at least atm (could change depending) that she was tricked by chronos ( the half that still laid in this world) to create a portal to save Danny- which it did send him to a safer home-but the portal required a sacrifice to work... and she ended up becoming it.

Only for technically Danny becoming one himself :D Also Danny because of his ghostliness is very attuned to magic and imagine Vergil helps spur this on- noting it right away that he's a spell caster. Which does give Danny his niche. Also imagine Danny doing his own kind of work- being able to see spirits and interact constantly- they both help him while he also helps them in return. The ghosts when completing their business turning into a crystal tear of memory. Which has its own uses. The ghosts both help and hinder missions. Though can also see them mistaking Danny for an angel of death which disturbs him a bit.

which this is all head canon stuff that can change hehe. I've been simmering over this for months. I really dove deep in the weeds and can't express even a quarter what I thought of XD. Oh and the bracelet thing becomes like in universe reason how danny can carry all his shit.. also like a gift from clockwork/chronos as the chain comes from the staff. Like he "knew" ;3 That's the god of time for ya.

[scribeofmorpheus]

I hate how LLMs have made it very untrustworthy to regard what one comes across as genuine craft anymore. i know artists are struggling big time with scrapping. I even wrote a paper on how openai was scrapping ao3 based on their early story prompt structures reading like a lot of popular fanfics i'd read before.

i was actually so paranoid that i locked most of my fics on ao3. sometimes i roll back the lock when i work on a fic again, but i usually lock em back up again after a while. scrapping is abhorent and i hate how much ai has shifted digital art paradigms and is now seeping into fandom culture.

I will say that i do find the "nonsense description" portion of this post a bit hard to align with. I'll get into it below the cut. but this is purely discursive, I'm not condemning or abstaining (I'm on op's side here), I'm just pointing out some factoids of my own for perspective!

here it is:

""her nimble fingers worked with quiet precision" (ct. 1), "his grip firm but tender" (ct. 33), "her gown pooling around her like embers" (ct. 1)."

See, I write like this, becuase i was trained in poetry first and then moved on to prose later. i use imagery, i use atmospherics, i use sensation in place of actual telegraphed motion or action that one expects of an action alone--it flows better, sounds sweeter and sometimes, yes, nimble fingers can move with quiet precision (not quiet as in "sound" but as in "understated", as in "draws little attention to the movement"). Firm but tender is another of my favourites--juxtaposition, contrast between the outward seen and felt execution of the action and the internalised, more personal mode of emotion conveyed so as to angle how we broach the situation. "firm but tender" is assuring, it's safe. "firm and rough" is more edged, and since we're left with little assumption of the setting and intent of such action, we cannot tell if the action and the emotions align--if its sexual, is it also consensual? if it's violent, is it because of haste to act, fear, annoyance, etc, etc. now "pooling like embers" is odd. embers spark and bristle and fly and catch things on fire, they disperse and scatter, never hold a body of matter congealed enough to pool. pooling like unfurled flame from dragon's breath? yeah, now that works! especially if it's a magic setting.

all this to say, ai is making it exceeding harder to prove craft is genuine if you work outside structural modes one can fact check. if you try to be more experimental, there's high chance you'll end up like me, and chip away at rigid writing structure in order to form your own voice. repetition and favoured descriptions is also a known trait of writers. one of my fav fanfic writers back in the day used to love "hard" after a pause. like: "he slammed the door, hard." or "his kiss pressed deep into me, hard." and it was noticeable and i loved seeing they had a tell.

though, i do agree that one of the things that need the least repetition in fiction is hair colour. but even published books like to remind readers of physical traits id it's something the author is so beguiled by. poor writing, but writing none the less.

i did suspect something was off with TSATS because of how fast the updates rolled. because damn! 23k word update after a 13k word update with less than 48 hrs between? crazy if true. but alas, i don't think i have it in me to be disappointed if i go seeking and do indeed find a pattern that proves LLM usage.

but to all my fic writers that take like half a day to write 3 pages and the other half procrastinating, if you (like me) got notified of all the updates and wondered if you weren't "productive" enough, you are not making a product, these are labours of love, keep at it, at your own pace, with your own skill, the process is the process!

we need to talk about The Silence and The Song

as per my last post, i have received a lot of encouragement to go public with this, and the more disappointed people i have in my dms, the angrier i get. so i will.

the silence and the song is an ancient arlathan au DA fic on ao3 by luxannaslut, and it is partly, if not entirely, written by an ai. i have no wish to be involved in any kind of fandom drama or witch hunting or bullying, but as a writer myself there are few things that piss me off more than watching people steal the work of others because they can't be fucked to write. it's disrespectful to your fellow writers, it's disrespectful to your readers, and it's disrespectful to the authors of the works the ai is stealing from.

ai is a plague that has no business being in creative spaces and you must do better.

the writing pattern

there was something very odd and monotone about the sentence structure of tsats that i couldn't quite place, so i fed chatgpt a prompt along the lines of "two people in a fantasy novel hate each other, but they secretly desire one another, and they kiss", and the screenshots above are the results. the third one is an excerpt from chapter 40 of tsats. the writing pattern is identical and it doesn't seem like the "writer" has even bothered to pretend they wrote it. if you're going to use ai, at least be sneaky about it. you know, paraphrase a little.

nonsense descriptions

"her nimble fingers worked with quiet precision" (ct. 1), "his grip firm but tender" (ct. 33), "her gown pooling around her like embers" (ct. 1).

fingers don't make sound, so what does quiet precision mean? as opposed to what? her joints cracking with every movement? how is a grip firm but tender? what does that mean? since when do embers pool?

the entire fic is littered with these adjectives that contradict each other or just straight up do not make sense, because all an ai does is generate descriptive language with no understanding of what the words it's spitting out actually mean. i could spend hours picking out examples from the seven billion pages worth of text, but i quite frankly have better things to do and would simply challenge you to try getting through a chapter or two without noticing the pattern.

repetition at structure-level

all the scenes in this fic are described in pretty much the same way. they open with purple prose vomit of the surroundings; solas is standing somewhere looking "unreadable as ever"; ellana's fiery golden molten fire copper ember ginger red hair is flowing this and that way; there's some dialogue with whoever is present and it leaves ellana feeling different variations of "something she couldn't name". this is, once again, a blatantly obvious sign of ai. below is the result of me feeding chatgpt the line "write me a scene from a fantasy novel where a woman with red hair is sitting on the ground in a magical garden at night", and side by side with that is the opening scene of the fic. make your own judgement.

repetition at word-level

this one speaks for itself. we fucking get it. her dress is orange, her hair is red, mythal's presence is heavy in the room, solas looks unreadable, compassion is sitting on her head like a crown, solas' ears are betraying him and ellana's move with every thought she thinks. we get it. the issue here is that an ai remembers the info you feed it, but not necessarily the info it shits out. if it's being told to write scene after scene of an elven woman with a gown that looks like fire doing xyz, it's going to do so with no regard for how many times the reader has already been informed of these details.

lastly: the breakneck speed

359,6k words in four weeks by a person who allegedly is employed and married and hasn't pre-written anything? no. any writer will tell you that this simply isn't possible. it absolutely infuriates me to see how much praise this "writer" gets for posting up to three full chapters in a day without anyone calling bullshit. i am pulling out my hair, you guys.

why i'm not going to live and let live this one

perhaps i would be less angry if the fic was some silly bullshit court intrigue Y/A stuff, but this is a text that handles very heavy and triggering topics such as SA, coercion, domestic abuse, and other things of the same vein. to sit back and put your feet up while having a robot write these extremely sensitive and very real human experiences with words it has stolen from texts written by actual persons is fucking heinous. the "writer" should be deeply ashamed of themselves and i'm sick and tired of watching people eat up their bs.

and on that note: the amount of people in my dm's telling me that they feel stupid and naive for not clocking this has infuriated me more than anything else. you're not foolish for this. being fed ai-generated bullshit is not what is supposed to happen on any creative platform and much less a fandom-centred one, so of course no one approaches a fic through that lens. fandom and fic writing is supposed to be about passion and the only person in this situation who needs to do better and change their behaviour is luxannaslut. polluting our creative spaces, wasting the time of your readers, and minimising the effort of actual writers who are working hard to provide content for us all to share and enjoy is vile and so, so lazy. i beg of you: do better.

[cintailed]

Tumblr loves the Orpheus myth, but I’ve never seen anyone post one of my favorite poems on the subject.

Orpheus, Eurydice, Hermes

By Rainer Maria Rilke

Translated by Stephen Mitchell

That was the deep uncanny mine of souls.

Like veins of silver ore, they silently

moved through its massive darkness. Blood welled up

among the roots, on its way to the world of men,

and in the dark it looked as hard as stone.

Nothing else was red.

There were cliffs there,

and forests made of mist. There were bridges

spanning the void, and that great gray blind lake

which hung above its distant bottom

like the sky on a rainy day above a landscape.

And through the gentle, unresisting meadows

one pale path unrolled like a strip of cotton.

Down this path they were coming.

In front, the slender man in the blue cloak —

mute, impatient, looking straight ahead.

In large, greedy, unchewed bites his walk

devoured the path; his hands hung at his sides,

tight and heavy, out of the failing folds,

no longer conscious of the delicate lyre

which had grown into his left arm, like a slip

of roses grafted onto an olive tree.

His senses felt as though they were split in two:

his sight would race ahead of him like a dog,

stop, come back, then rushing off again

would stand, impatient, at the path’s next turn, —

but his hearing, like an odor, stayed behind.

Sometimes it seemed to him as though it reached

back to the footsteps of those other two

who were to follow him, up the long path home.

But then, once more, it was just his own steps’ echo,

or the wind inside his cloak, that made the sound.

He said to himself, they had to be behind him;

said it aloud and heard it fade away.

They had to be behind him, but their steps

were ominously soft. If only he could

turn around, just once (but looking back

would ruin this entire work, so near

completion), then he could not fail to see them,

those other two, who followed him so softly:

The god of speed and distant messages,

a traveler’s hood above his shining eyes,

his slender staff held out in front of him,

and little wings fluttering at his ankles;

and on his left arm, barely touching it: she.

A woman so loved that from one lyre there came

more lament than from all lamenting women;

that a whole world of lament arose, in which

all nature reappeared: forest and valley,

road and village, field and stream and animal;

and that around this lament-world, even as

around the other earth, a sun revolved

and a silent star-filled heaven, a lament-

heaven, with its own, disfigured stars —:

So greatly was she loved.

But now she walked beside the graceful god,

her steps constricted by the trailing graveclothes,

uncertain, gentle, and without impatience.

She was deep within herself, like a woman heavy

with child, and did not see the man in front

or the path ascending steeply into life.

Deep within herself. Being dead

filled her beyond fulfillment. Like a fruit

suffused with its own mystery and sweetness,

she was filled with her vast death, which was so new,

she could not understand that it had happened.

She had come into a new virginity

and was untouchable; her sex had closed

like a young flower at nightfall, and her hands

had grown so unused to marriage that the god’s

infinitely gentle touch of guidance

hurt her, like an undesired kiss.

She was no longer that woman with blue eyes

who once had echoed through the poet’s songs,

no longer the wide couch’s scent and island,

and that man’s property no longer.

She was already loosened like long hair,

poured out like fallen rain,

shared like a limitless supply.

She was already root.

And when, abruptly,

the god put out his hand to stop her, saying,

with sorrow in his voice: He has turned around —,

she could not understand, and softly answered

Who?

Far away,

dark before the shining exit-gates,

someone or other stood, whose features were

unrecognizable. He stood and saw

how, on the strip of road among the meadows,

with a mournful look, the god of messages

silently turned to follow the small figure

already walking back along the path,

her steps constricted by the trailing graveclothes,

uncertain, gentle, and without impatience.

[yourstardarling]

Aura of the air signs

In astrology, Air signs have a unique ability to influence the atmosphere around them. They are the unseen force that set the tone for interactions, shaping the environment through communication, ideas and their social energy. Like the air itself, they move seamlessly through spaces allowing themselves to be felt. They create impactful conversations and make light connections that are remembered long after they’re gone.

What this means is that the placement of air signs in your chart (and the planetary influences tied to them) defines the social energy you bring into an environment. It tells the story of how people perceive you and the vibe you exude in social settings. This unintentionally makes them natural centers of attention since their presence stirs the air around them. Whether that be through conversation, laughter, or even their energy. It’s as though the air signs pass through the atmosphere, leaving it forever changed.

Gemini’s air is one filled with chatter and laughter. It is a whirlwind of excitement and curiosity, like a warm summer breeze. They are the ones that will tell you fun facts about a random topic which intrigues them. Conversations are their stronghold, displaying that they can keep up with anyone from different backgrounds. This often can be very surface level, but Geminis have an ability to pull out deep conversations out of people. One reason is that they are very open to communication which leaves others to feel at ease to open up to them. However, the main factor is that Geminis know how to ask the right questions and stir a conversation. They don’t shy away from their curiosity which makes others intrigued to communicate. There is a quickness to their enigmatic air, often leaving as quickly as they came. Behind them they leave inspiration, knowledge, and unforgettable conversations. I always say Geminis remind me of the phrase “Gone with the wind”. They breeze through life, often leaving others to question if their breeze was a figment of their imagination.

Libras air is graceful and alluring, carrying a sense of balance that smooths out even the most chaotic environments. It is like a crisp cool autumn breeze, refreshing and filled with moisture. There’s something about their aura that draws people in, making you feel safe and at ease in their presence. Like you can’t help, but like them and get reeled into their charming character. Their air is a mix of sweet perfumes and delicate body oils that linger, creating an irresistible atmosphere. “Love is in the air” is their life motto and they carry that with them wherever they go. Whether intentionally or not, Libras air feels like a soft seduction. They keep eye contact in conversations, know how to balance intellectual stimulation and make cheeky comments. At first glance it may feel like they are flirting, but later realize it is just a natural part of their charm. Libras know how to make others like them and the right things to say to gain admiration. This why sometimes their kindness may come across as being fake. However, don’t let that fool you, they are very passionate individuals that love to debate. Even when disagreements arise they seem to have an air of elegance, leaving those involved feeling both challenged and intrigued.

Aquarius air is one brimming with disruption and chaos. It’s like a storm of winds that shake up everything in its path. This air stirs the minds and hearts of those around them, pushing boundaries and forcing change. Lightening is a significant symbol for Aquas because of the shock factor they leave behind. People are polarized by their unconventional conversations and ideas. They can seem like the less inviting among the air signs, but once you break the ice you can’t help being pulled into the storm. The storm energy of Aquarius comes from their over-analyzation of what is going on around them. So many neurons are being fired at once which can lead to overstimulation for themselves and people they talk to. They are very bright though and don’t like their intelligence to be downplayed. When in their vicinity, you feel this rush of electricity to talk about and do anything. They bring to you a foreign perspective. If you want to feel renewed and need new ideas, Aquarius is the one you go to.

Planetary Influence

The heavenly bodies have a direct impact on how air moves in a chart. For air specifically, there is a need for clarity. If there are too many planets, it can be hard for the air to push through. Their is a since of lightness and weightlessness that air signs need in order to properly function. Too many placements leads to overstimulation and a tendency to be reclusive in their minds. They don’t loose their social factor, but it makes them big over thinkers. Air moves the best when the energy is free.

Sun: The suns influence in air signs actually brings about its own set of challenges. Out of the 3, only Gemini has a good relationship to the Sun. It is in Fall in libra and in detriment in Aquarius. What this tells me is that the Sun finds it hard to shine and express itself in an environment that is so focused on other people. How can you shine for yourself when you’re always worried about the social needs of others. The light of the air signs can feel like clouds blocking the sun. They are not shining for just themselves, but for the social group around them as well.

Moon: The moon in air signs brings a nurturing factor towards conversations and communication. They know how to make people feel safe to open up to them about their throughts and opinions. A keen ability to analyze their close one’s emotions. The downside though is a detachment from their feelings. They often try to process their inner world from an intellectual landscape rather than feeling them through. This can make them be unreadable to other people.

Mercury: This is the best friend of the air signs. Mercury does really well in all 3 signs. It allows them to be able to do what they do best, communication. Mercury in the air signs make their mental capacity very sharp and ready to navigate any topics of discussion. These are very smart individuals that have a reservoir of information.

Venus: In the realm of love, the air signs can be extremely flirtatious and misleading. They will reel you in with their words and stimulation, but you will feel caught off guard by their detachment. It feels like love is a game to them. They may find it hard to build lasting connections because of their need to be free. It’s like they are up in the air which makes it hard to feel like you can grasp them.

Mars: The planet of war in the air signs causes unnecessary challenges surrounding interactions and communication. Here the air becomes hot like the desert, making it hard to breathe. The slightest misunderstanding can lead to conflict for these individuals. It is important for you to watch what you say and know when to defend yourself when necessary. The strength of mars makes them good debaters, but people can often say things to rage bait you.

Jupiter: This planet brings a strong presence within the air signs. Their ideas deeply shape their beliefs and faith. Wisdom can be found through their interactions with other people. However, information overload can become a problem for air Jupiters. Faith can also be a struggle for air Jupiter’s as they operate based on factual data instead of just pure belief: they need things to make sense.

Saturn: Now yall already know, Saturn is gonna bring a sense of heaviness in the air. It can feel like they have a responsibility towards the social and intellectual aspect of there environments. The weight of this can be heavy on them making them uncomfortable and anxious about forming relationships. However, they learn how to place boundaries and be very selective about who is in their presence. Saturn does pretty well in the air signs since it is in Domicile in Aquarius and Exalted in Libra. I think it’s because Saturn is focused on maintaining order and in the air it knows how to maintain social order. It becomes unbiased because it isn’t so easily attached. This allows it to be able to make good judgement.

___

Whether through the ideas they inspire, the emotions they evoke, or the stories they leave behind, the air signs remain a lingering presence in their environment. They are seamlessly both attached and free from societal influences at the same time. Catch them if you can and learn from the short, but worthwhile interactions.

-yourStardarling

[mononijikayu]

widower! nanami who found himself lingering by the window in the evenings, catching glimpses of you tending to your garden or sitting on your porch with a cup of tea.

nanami kento couldn't quite explain the comfort he found out he could feel just because of your presence.

ever since he moved here and met you, with your bright smile and your kindness to a grieving soul like him, it brought a quiet solace amidst the storm in his broken heart.

widower! nanami who, despite his reluctance to let anyone in, found himself knocking on your door one rainy evening to return the favor you have him when he first moved in.

he stood there, holding that it bottle of red wine and his little whisper of a quiet "thank you for the bread."

you smiled at him tenderly, not caring for his shyness or his awkwardness. "its my pleasure, neighbor. come by anytime. i'll make something good for you.we'll have a good conversation over this wine."

he blinks at you, slowly turning flustered as you nodded. "ah….yes. that would….that would be lovely."

widower! nanami who, over time, found that conversations day by day with you started to feel like a lifeline.

you always spoke with warmth and patience, never prying but always listening. you shared stories of your life, your interests, and little joys that painted the world in colors he thought he'd forgotten.

somehow, it was the good distraction he needed from the quiet. its a way to keep himself present to the world around him, when he would have let himself wallow in the loneliness. and it was because you made him feel safe. he was thankful to you for making him feel normal.

widower! nanami who caught himself smiling—truly smiling—when you laughed at one of his dry jokes. even though you knew that it wasn't that funny.

it was a small moment, one that fould have been a footnote to a day lived in this life but it reminded him of the man he used to be before grief consumed him. he was reminded that he was someone.

widower! nanami who, one night, confessed to you over tea on your porch that he hadn’t felt this kind of peace in years. that he hadn't found himself living in so long.

you didn’t respond with pity or empty reassurances. instead, you looked at him and smiled with empathy. you simply placed a gentle hand over his.

“take your time. healing isn’t a race, kento–kun.”

he nodded at you then and then he smiled, squeezing your hand with his other free hand in thanks. he was grateful that it was you who understood him best.

widower! nanami who realized that the heavy ache he had long felt in his chest was slowly being replaced by something different—something warm and hopeful. something that reminded him of life beyond loss.

widower! nanami who started looking forward to the mornings again, who started thinking about what to wear on his daily walks, knowing he might see you across the garden fence or hear your knock on his door.

little by little, he began to live, not just exist.and that was something he felt like was a gift that could only have come from someone as good as you.

widower! nanami who, for the first time in years, started waking up early not out of duty, but out of anticipation. he’d make coffee and glance out his kitchen window, hoping to catch the sight of you stepping outside to greet the day.

when you did, he’d offer a small wave, and sometimes, you’d wave back with a smile so genuine it warmed something deep within him.

"good morning, kento—kun!" you greeted cheerfully, waving from your garden, kneeling over your sunflowers.

he smiled at you, waving back shyly. he stops from his walk to make sure he sees you and you see him. "good morning to you too."

"come here, ill give you some sunflowers! oh, and come join me for breakfast. i have new bread for you to test!"

widower! nanami who found excuses to linger in his front yard when you were outside enjoying the sun and the breeze of the summer winds.

one time, he found himself pretending to fix his mailbox or tidy up the bushes—just for the chance to exchange a few words with you. sometimes he'd say he found a new cat fiend taking his produce from the garden.

he found as many excuses as he could, just to be with you. just to have a moment to see you smile. just to have those moments of connection with you, ones that no matter how brief, became a balm for his weary soul.

widower! nanami who one day noticed you struggling to carry groceries from your car and instinctively walked over to help.

he hadn’t felt the urge to extend himself in so long, but with you, it felt natural. you had joked about him being your knight in shining armor, and for the first time in what felt like forever, he laughed—really laughed.

and soon enough you followed, laughing and bellowing with joy beaming in your eyes. nanami kento was sure it was the loveliest symphony he'd ever heard.

widower! nanami who began to share little by little all those pieces of himself with you, bits of his past life that he hadn’t spoken about in years.

you were such a darling to him, listening without judgment, your eyes filled with endless empathy and care for him. and when he mentioned his late wife, you didn’t recoil or change the subject. instead you held his hand in the hardest moment in a long long while.

instead, you smiled at him kindly and said to him ever so softly, “she must have been an incredible person to have been loved by someone like you.”

nanami kento was touched. he could have sworn he had truly found the wonder of the world when he looked st you in that moment. you were all that was good and he knew it.

widower! nanami who found himself opening up more and more, slowly but surely. you didn’t push him to move faster than he was ready, but your quiet understanding made him feel safe—something he hadn’t felt in a long time.

in the world which was rough and cruel, there was only kindness when he looked in your eyes. a kindness that was made specifically for him by the warmth of your existence.

widower! nanami who, one evening, invited you over for dinner. it was the first time he’d cooked for someone since she’d passed, and though his hands shook as he prepared the meal, your smile of gratitude when you arrived made it worth it.

you both shared stories over simple dishes, the evening stretching into the night as conversation flowed effortlessly between you. you laughed, you sang, you cheered. it was something that nanami kento would not forget.

"thank you for inviting me to dinner, really." you told him, smiling from ear to ear. "everything was fantastic, kento."

"you shouldn't thank me. if anything i should thank you." he says, a small smile on his lips. "im happy to thank you with something like this, even if its so simple."

you giggled. "simple is best, no?"

he nodded, his eyes fondly looking at you. "indeed it is."

widower! nanami who, after you’d left that night, stood in the doorway of his home and realized he did not feel like any place he was in was as empty as it once was. somehow, the world seemed illuminated in light.

there were still shadows of his grief, yes, but for the first time in years, he felt a flicker of something he thought he’d lost forever—and that was hope.

there was hope that there was something after the pain. that there was warmth inside of him growing for the hope of continuing to live a life with a smile on his face.

widower! nanami who began to wonder if, maybe, it was okay to let the walls he’d built around his heart start to crumble, one small piece at a time.

would you catch him if he let himself fall? or would the weight of his past be too much for you to bear? would you be the one who could stand by him despite the world weighs heavy on his shoulder?

widower! nanami who decided one quiet evening, as he watched the light in your window, as you danced to your favorite song, that he couldn’t keep waiting for the perfect moment to act. life had already shown him how fragile time could be.

he didn’t want to waste another second letting fear hold him back, no. he was still alive. and there were many colors of life he still had to know. and one of it was the color of your joy when music makes you happy.

widower! nanami who knocked on your door the next morning, uncharacteristically nervous, clutching a small bouquet of sunflowers he’d picked up on a whim.

when you opened the door, seeing him with that look of surprise. but it was easy to see the bright light in your eyes. you were truly delighted to see him before your eyes.

he cleared his throat and said softly, “i wasn’t sure what flowers you’d like, but these felt…bright. like you.”

widower! nanami who took you out on a simple walk later that day, both of your hands brushing together gently as you strolled through the neighborhood.

the silence between you wasn’t awkward, that was to be sure. but filled with an unspoken understanding, a connection neither of you needed to explain. it was contentment, in the look of love being as tender as the touch of love even in tender brushes.

widower! nanami who stopped abruptly by a quiet park bench, turning to face you with a look that was equal parts vulnerability and determination.

you smiled at him as you waited for him to say something. the way you looked at him, it was as though he was the only one in the world. it was as though he was a galaxy you marvel at each and every night. it was like he was the morning sunrise tenderly brushing against you in the fleeting echoes of dawn.

“i don’t know how to do this correctly, not anymore." he admitted. “and i don’t know if i'll ever stop grieving her. but… i know that when i’m with you, the world doesn’t feel as heavy. and i think i want to try, if you’ll have me.”

widower! nanami who felt the weight of the world lift just a little when you smiled up at him, your hand slipping into his with quiet assurance. you nodded at him.

“I’m not asking you to forget." you said gently. “but maybe we can figure this out together…..if you would have me."

he smiled at you, bright eyed. "i'd love to have you. happily."

you giggled. "then it's settled. you are stuck with me."

"i could say the same thing about you too." kento laughs.

widower! nanami who, for the first time in years, allowed himself to hope—not just for healing, but for happiness, for love, and for the possibility of a future where he didn’t have to face the world alone.

because he knew that life would be fine now, life could be worth living. and its thanks to you, you whom became his relief in this world, as long as time may allow.

[snowballseal]

My Dearest

Prologue

LaDS Zayne X Foreseer!Reader

Summary: You are the Foreseer, forced to live a near immortal life, gifted with the ability to see fate, yet cursed to live among mortals who hate the truth. In your bitterness, you retreat to the Tower of Thorns, where you find peace. That is, until a man appears on your door, a man on the brink of losing his future. Unless you choose to change his fate.

Disclaimer: This series will essentially be an AU, I am ignoring nearly all cannon, because screw it and SCREW ASTRA THAT-

Anways, enjoy this ~400 word intro of Foreseer!Reader hating mortals. ✌🏻

---

Not many venture to Mount Eternal.

It is a barren, frigid landscape, snow so deep that it snuffs out all flickers of life. Not even the sun can touch her jagged peaks.

Mortals call it an icy hell, but in truth, it is a force they cannot conquer. Even with their audacity. Even with their brash foolishness. They know better than to try and tame the vicious beast that is ice and death and snow. Even they are forced to recognize how powerless they are.

And perhaps that is why you have found your peace in Mount Eternal’s glacial depths.

Why you now call it home.

Here, it is just you and the Tower. No more performing, no more kings trying to force you under their thumb, only to throw a fit of rage when you do not bow. Afterall, the truth does not bow for anyone.

So it is here you have found your refuge. Away from the mortals. Away from their arrogance and manipulation. Even though they appear every few years, you find yourself growing comfortable, tucked away, living out your years in near blissful silence.

That is, perhaps, what you hated most about living among the mortals. The noise. Incessant. Overwhelming. They liken silence to death in a way that you could never comprehend, for it is in silence that you find your solace.

And that is exactly what the weathered, stone walls of the Tower offer a demigod like you. The Tower holds your silence so tenderly, like it knows how secretly fragile you are. In a way, you almost see it as your kin. It, like you, is trapped in a state of timeless-ness. Seemingly untouched, though if you look close enough you can see how worn it is, how humanity has used it. A tower of unknown origin, from an unknown time, forced to live in solitude lest it breaks.

While most find it eerie and uncomfortable, you can’t help but feel at peace in its grand halls. The cold marble seems to muffle your very thoughts, like the layer of snow outside can somehow quiet the thrum of magic that constantly pulses through your veins.

So you sit. You sit in the quietness of your home, the Tower of Thorns. You sit so still, that sometimes you forget that you’re even alive. Day after day. Year after year.

Until one day, you find your peace fractured..

All by one human.

---

Y'all, I am fired up for this one. I've had literal brain rot for months. And I know it's Caleb season, but Zayne still has me by the throat. You won't catch me slipping!

Anyways, D don't expect this to get a lot of attention, but I'm going to enjoy myself writing it! Hope my fellow Zayne girlies enjoy it too.

[hazeytae]

perv!roomates taesan & leehan who always sneak around and steal your stuff until one day you catch them and they corrupt you..

can i be 🧊 anon ~○~

had to have this marinate in my inbox for a lil bit bc when i got this ask i was GIGGLINGGG 😫 nd yes u can be 🧊 anon!! hi !!! :3

♡ dacryphilia, voyeurism (?), oral (mf), i will be making this into a full fic!! 😡 so much i wanna add to this

you first started noticing your things going missing only a few months into becoming roomates with taesan and leehan. small things like a worn pajama shirt, or panties you swore you put in the laundry hamper that you just havent seen since. sometimes theyd randomly appear right back in your drawers and youd be a little confused, but you just brushed it off as you mustve missed it while searching.

unbeknownst to you, your perverted roomates had gotten their hands on all your panties! taesan literally couldnt get enough of you !! he wanted you so bad, but unfortunately for him you were just roomates. he resorted to stealing your worn panties and other used garments. stroking his cock as hed bring your panties to his nose, taking in your scent which just made his dick harder. wrapping the fabric around his cock to bring him closer and closer to the edge. strings of your name falling out from his mouth like a song while ropes and ropes of white sticky cum soiled your panties. afterwards he felt so gross, but its not like youd ever find out- he'll just wash it and place in back in your drawer! also i feel like taesan would take pictures of you changing or in the shower, staring at the pictures before stealing your panties off the floor and running to his bedroom to jack off to the photos. he'd think about how pretty youd look taking his cock sooo deep into your throat, gagging and crying on his cock. you were an innocent doll to him, and your angel like face and those cute lacey panties you wore made him want to corrupt you into a perfect slut just for him.

(more undercut!)

on the other hand, leehan wouldnt be stealing your panties if it werent for taesan. leehan once caught taesan in the act, but instead of asking him what he was doing it just gave him an idea. slowly but surely more of your panties started to go missing, some not even returning. leehan wouldnt return them. he'd keep them in his drawer and he'd make sure not to cum on your panties so your scent wouldnt go away. and if your scent went away- he'd take another pair of your panties. leehan would even take your panties to his mouth, tongue swirling around the fabric while he took in your taste. leehan had been obsessed with you- ever since he saw your pretty face and heard your pretty moans through the thin walls. you were moaning out his name too, even your lewd moans of his name sounded so innocent to him; from that moment forward he knew he had to corrupt you.

you started to get frustrated- your cute, expensive underwear kept going missing! youve searched everywhere and the only places left were leehan and taesans rooms. with a sigh, you decided to check leehans room, thinking it mightve ended up in his laundry by accident. but as you rummaged through his drawers, you found your panties, wrinkled and stained. your face turned red as you quickly grabbed them. "w-was leehan... with my panties...?" you whine blushing at the thought, before rushing back to your room.

you suddenly heard a sharp cry of your name coming from taesans room, his voice trembling as if he were crying, or maybe whining? your innocent mind immediately assumed he was hurt and needed you. as you approached his room, the sound of staggered breaths grew louder, confirming your worries. “taesan, are you okay?” you called out, pushing the door open, only to be met with the sight of him with your panties wrapped around his cock while thick ropes of his cum spilled out onto them, making eye contact with you with that cocky smirk while you covered your blushing face. was he really doing this? not only was leehan taking your underwear, but so was taesan!

you felt a large figure slowly come behind you making you squeak, it was leehan. "t-taesan.. leehan- w-what is this?" you watch taesan as he walked towards you chuckling.

"you just noticed? you didnt know i was the one taking your little lacey panties?" taesan asked cupping your face with his hands, smirking at your red face. it wasnt unusual for taesan or leehan to be touchy with you, cupping your face or kissing your neck- but this was something else. your heart was racing and you had just watched taesan cum while moaning your name oh so beautifully.

leehan was giggling behind you, "cant believe you got caught taesan." he swiveled you around to face him "i saw you found all your panties. sorry for taking them." he ran his hands down your body making you shiver, you knew his apology wasnt true.

"y-you guys are perverts..." you whisper, suddenly getting shy with their hands all over your body, leehans hands slipping under your shirt rubbing your sides while taesans hands slipped under your waistband. you did want them- you wanted them really bad, just as bad as they wanted you. and they knew that. they knew that from how many times theyve heard you moan out their names while finger fucking yourself.

taesan took innovative to tug your shirt all the way off, "you dunno how long ive waited" he mumbled moving your hair to kiss and suck on your neck while he played with the waistband of your shorts. leehan looked down at you humming, "me too..." he mumbled before smashing his lips against yours while desperately tugging down your shorts and panties at once, making taesan chuckle at his desperation.

taesan picked you up, pulling you away from leehan and throwing you down onto his bed, "let me use you angel, let me make you mine." he mumbled crawling on top of you burying his face into your tits kissing and sucking. his pants had already been thrown onto the floor, making his boner painfully obvious. leehan whined coming in between your legs "taesan stop taking her from me!" he mumbled swiping his fingers across your folds feeling your wetness. "yah,, shes already so wet for us," he giggled kissing your clit gently. you felt so shy, practically bucking into leehans face while you watched taesan.

taesan groaned licking and lapping at your tits while leehan worked on your pussy with his tongue. taesan suddenly got on his knees tugging your hair slapping his cock onto your face "use your pretty mouth angel baby. you got it," he hissed when you opened your mouth happily taking his length into your throat. he was big, you were gagging everytime you bobbed your head. leehans skilled tongue was making you moan around taesans cock and taesan loveddd the vibrations, he couldnt get enough of how good your mouth felt and leehan couldnt get enough of how delicious you tasted. he was starting to get pussy drunk as your juices mixed with his drool coated his chin, sloppily licking and pumpijg his fingers in and out of you while you worked your mouth so sweetly on taesans cock.

but taesan wanted more. he gripped your hair into makeshift pigtails before warning you "m gonna fuck your face, tap my leg if its too much" he grinned throwing his head back as he thrusted into your face ruthlessly and moved your head up and down. you started to cry. he loved this sight, your pretty teary eyes looking up at him while he ruined you. this was just what he needed. leehan was in a trance as he watched, humping taesans bed while he ate you out. your nose hit taesans tummy as his cum filled your throat, making you swallow it all. you and taesan came at the same time, your taste emitted a long satisfied moan from leehan as he slurped up your juices happily.