#i can feel my ancestors disappointment in me

[itsnicsalad]

swag lunch date 2: electric boogaloo :")

[beedoes-stuff]

it only just registered in my brain that palomas name means dove.

[seafarersdream]

Kismet | Modern AU! (Jace Velaryon x Y/N)

Jace Velaryon, a wealthy legacy student at the University of Cambridge and captain of the football club, is barely surviving his second year in majoring in History and Politics. With a 5,000-word paper looming, Jace is hopelessly lost. His concerned professor decides to assign him a study partner: Y/N L/N, a star student. Y/N knows all about Jace’s wild reputation and his band of troublemaking friends. She's managed to steer clear of his orbit—until now. Aegon Targaryen, ever the wildcard, throws down a challenge to Jace: a bet on whether he can get Y/N into his bed. After all, Jace is a notorious womanizer, with a reputation for charming his way through the university’s female population. Should be easy enough for him, no? Word count: 14,5k

TW // Strong language and profanities, explicit scenes (oral), dub-con, sexual innuendos, alcohol use and intoxication, emotional manipulation, smoking, slow burn narrative.

Note: Massive thanks to @ashamedtobewhitemanswhore27 for the idea! Hope I did it justice. I really ran with this one—what can I say? I love a good, slow build-up. So yeah, this fic definitely got way longer than I planned. But hey, grab some snacks, settle in, and enjoy!

“Five thousand words? She’s taking the piss, isn’t she?” He thought.

Jace Velaryon slouched back in the worn, creaky chair, an amused grin tugging at his lips as he stared at the ceiling of Professor Jeyne Arryn’s office. The beams above were ancient, older than his ancestors probably, and seemed like they might crumble at any second. He couldn’t help but think it’d be a hell of an excuse to get out of this meeting if the whole damn roof just collapsed right then and there.

Professor Jeyne Arryn, all prim and proper in her tweed blazer and horn-rimmed glasses, sighed dramatically from behind her desk, fingers tenting in that classic I’m disappointed in you way. “Jacaerys, you do realize that the War of the Roses is one of the most pivotal conflicts in English history, right? It’s not something you can just... ‘wing’ in a night.”

Jace chuckled, the sound rich and careless. “Is that a challenge, Prof?” he teased, stretching out his long legs, one foot resting lazily on the opposite knee. “You know I love a good challenge. Ask anyone on the pitch.”

She didn’t smile. She never did, not when he was being an ass—which, admittedly, was most of the time. “This isn’t a game, Mr. Velaryon,” she said, voice tight with irritation. “You can’t charm your way through a five-thousand-word paper like you do with the girls or your professors, for that matter.”

Jace scoffed, giving her a cocky wink. “Worked on you, didn’t it? Remember that first-year exam?” He flashed her a grin that was all white teeth and mischief, the kind that usually got him out of trouble—or into it, depending on the situation.

Professor Arryn's lips twitched, but she quickly straightened her expression. “Enough, Mr. Velaryon. This isn’t negotiable. You’re going to do this paper, and you’re going to do it well, even if it kills you. Or, more accurately, if it kills me trying to drag you through it.”

Jace rolled his eyes, the weight of her seriousness finally sinking in. “Alright, alright, you’ve got my attention. What’s the plan then? A crash course in roses and wars?”

Jeyne leaned forward, her tone softening just a fraction. “I’ve assigned you a study partner.”

He sat up straighter, eyebrows shooting up. “A what now?”

“A study partner. Someone to help guide you through the research, outline, and, hopefully, writing process. Someone who actually understands the material and takes it seriously.”

Jace frowned, feeling his stomach twist. “Who?” he asked, wary now. “Not one of those posh History Society nerds, yeah?”

Professor Arryn smiled, a thin, knowing smile. “No, not one of those... though she is quite the academic star. Y/N L/N.”

Jace blinked, trying to place the name. It sounded vaguely familiar, but he couldn’t quite remember a face to go with it. “Y/N?” he echoed, like it might conjure up a memory. “The one with the… cat?”

Jeyne’s smile grew wider. “Yes, that one. She’s in her third year. Sharp as a tack, that girl. And far more disciplined than you.”

“Great,” Jace muttered, rubbing a hand over his face. “So, I’m stuck with a cat lady who probably hates my guts. This’ll be fun.”

“Perhaps,” Jeyne replied, “it’ll be good for you to spend some time with someone who doesn’t fawn over you or buy into your charm. And let’s be honest, Jacaerys, you need all the help you can get.”

Jace sighed deeply, tapping his fingers on the armrest of his chair. “Fine. Whatever. When do I meet this... Y/N?”

Professor Arryn checked her watch. “Actually, right now. She’s waiting outside.”

Jace’s eyes widened. “Wait—what?”

The door creaked open, and there she was—Y/N L/N, standing just outside with an expression that could only be described as skeptical. Her hair was up in a bun, a few stray strands escaping around her face, and she was clutching a notebook like it was a lifeline. Her eyes, sharp and calculating, flicked over Jace briefly before settling on Professor Arryn.

“You wanted to see me, Professor?” she asked, her voice low and even.

Jace couldn’t help but smirk. Oh, this was going to be interesting.

Professor Arryn gestured for Y/N to enter. “Y/N, this is Jacaerys Velaryon, your new study partner.”

Y/N’s lips quirked ever so slightly, but she quickly schooled her features back into a neutral expression. “Oh,” she said. “Lucky me.”

Jace chuckled, leaning back in his chair again, arms spreading out as if he owned the room. “The pleasure’s all mine, love,” he drawled, his eyes dancing with mischief. “Looking forward to all those late-night study sessions... with your cat, of course.”

Y/N’s gaze was flat, unimpressed. “Yeah, don’t get your hopes up. This isn’t a charity case. If you want my help, you’ll have to actually put in the work.”

Jace blinked, caught off guard. “Right,” he said slowly, recovering with a grin. “Fair enough. Let’s start with the basics, then… What’s a ‘War of the Roses,’ anyway?”

Y/N let out a soft sigh, clearly unamused. “We have a lot of work to do.”

Professor Arryn watched the exchange, a satisfied glint in her eye. “I think this partnership will be good for both of you,” she said. “And remember, Velaryon, this is your last chance to prove yourself. Don’t blow it.”

Jace glanced at Y/N, who was already walking towards the door, her back straight and her expression unreadable. He scrambled to his feet, hurrying after her. “Oi, wait up!” he called, trying to catch her.

Y/N paused, turning slightly, her eyebrow arched. “First rule,” she said calmly. “Don’t call me ‘love.’”

Jace grinned, loving the challenge already. “Alright… Y/N,” he replied, putting on his most charming smile. “Shall we?”

She rolled her eyes, but there was the slightest hint of a smile tugging at her lips. “Yeah,” she muttered, “Let’s get this over with.”

▐░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░▌

“Look, we can start with some basic texts,” Y/N said, flipping open her notebook and scribbling something down with a quick, practiced hand. She barely spared Jace a glance as they walked down the narrow cobblestone path, her steps purposeful and brisk. “Seeley Historical Library has the best collection on late medieval England. I figure we’ll start there. I know a few—”

“Wait,” Jace interrupted, his tone incredulous. “You want to start now? Like, right this second?”

“Yes,” Y/N replied, not breaking her stride. “Because it’s clear you know absolutely nothing about the War of the Roses, and I’m not about to waste my time with some half-baked attempt at a history paper. We’re going to the library.”

Jace groaned, dragging a hand through his tousled dark curls. “Oh, come on, love—”

She shot him a sharp look.

“—Sorry, Y/N. Can’t we at least get a coffee first? I haven’t even had my caffeine fix yet, and you’re already dragging me to some dusty library.”

Y/N rolled her eyes. “No time for coffee. We have a lot of ground to cover, and I’m not about to let you turn this into some kind of social hour. The library, now.”

Jace huffed but kept pace with her. “You’re a hard-ass, you know that?”

“Yeah, I’ve been told.” She replied dryly.

They turned a corner, and Jace caught sight of the courtyard just ahead—a familiar patch of green surrounded by old brick buildings, where his mates were kicking a ball around. His gang—Cregan Stark, Oscar Tully, Aegon Targaryen, and Davos Blackwood—were all there, clad in their team jerseys and shouting insults at one another.

Aegon, spotting Jace first, smirked and jogged over, his bleach-blonde hair glinting in the sunlight. “Oi, Captain!” he called out, voice booming across the courtyard. “Where the hell you think you’re going?”

Cregan and Oscar followed, both looking amused. Cregan, tall and broad-shouldered, clapped a hand on Jace’s back as he got closer. “We’ve got practice in five, mate. What’s this? Thought you were allergic to books,” he teased, nodding towards the notebook Y/N clutched like a weapon.

“Yeah, I thought the only paper you touched was hundred-pound notes,” Oscar added with a grin.

Jace gave a sheepish grin, throwing a thumb in Y/N’s direction. “Meet my new study partner,” he announced, his tone half-mocking, half-serious. “Apparently, she thinks I need to learn a thing or two about the ‘War of the Roses.’”

Davos snorted, a grin spreading across his face. “Well, you’re gonna learn what war is if you don’t show up for practice, Captain. Coach is already pissed.”

Y/N, standing a step back, folded her arms across her chest, her patience visibly thinning. “I’m sorry,” she interjected, her voice cutting through their banter like a knife, “but Jace and I have actual work to do. Unlike whatever this is.” She waved a dismissive hand at the football pitch behind them.

Aegon let out a low whistle, eyeing Y/N with mock admiration. “Feisty one, isn’t she?”

Jace chuckled, lifting his hands in a placating gesture. “Look, Y/N, they’re right. We do have practice—”

“Don’t care,” she cut him off sharply. “We’re going to the library, and you’re coming with me. You can play your little game later.”

Cregan laughed, a deep, rumbling sound. “Your little game? Oi, Jace, I think she just called football a ‘little game.’”

Jace shot a pleading look at Y/N, but she remained resolute, chin tilted up defiantly. “This isn’t optional, Velaryon,” she stated flatly. “You can skip practice once. It’s not going to kill you.”

“Actually, it might,” Oscar quipped, elbowing Jace. “Coach’ll string you up by your own bootlaces.”

Jace hesitated, caught between the demand in Y/N’s eyes and the expectant gazes of his teammates. “Come on, Y/N,” he said, trying to sound reasonable. “Just one hour? I’ll be right there at the library after.”

Y/N exhaled sharply, clearly irritated. “Fine,” she muttered, “One hour, Jace. But if you’re not at Seeley, I’m done with this, and you can flunk out on your own.”

Jace grinned, sensing a small victory. “Deal.”

With that, she turned on her heel and strode off toward the library, leaving Jace standing there.

Aegon nudged Jace with a sly grin. “Mate, you’re in deep with that one.”

Jace shrugged, his grin widening. “Oh, I’m counting on it.”

Then, he jogged toward the pitch, already plotting how to charm his way out of trouble.

▐░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░▌

The sun was setting over Cambridge, casting a warm, golden glow over the courtyard where Jace and his gang were sprawled out on the grass, panting and laughing, still high from the adrenaline of practice. The air was thick with the scent of sweat and freshly cut grass. Jace gulped down his energy gel, feeling the rush of artificial citrus flavor burst in his mouth. Aegon, leaning back on his elbows, was grinning like a Cheshire cat, clearly up to something.

“So,” Aegon started, with that telltale smirk plastered across his face, “what’s the deal with your new study buddy, Jace? This… Y/N?”

Jace shrugged, wiping his forehead with the back of his hand. “Nothing much. Just some girl Professor Arryn stuck me with to make sure I don’t bomb this paper. Proper bookworm, you know?”

Davos, lying flat on his back and squinting up at the sky, chuckled. “Yeah, heard she’s one of those types. Always in the library, never out for a drink. Bit boring, if you ask me.”

Aegon’s grin widened, his eyes sparkling with mischief. “Boring, eh? Anyone know anything interesting about her?”

Oscar, sitting cross-legged, shook his head. “Nah, mate. She’s just… normal. Doesn’t bother with us, and we don’t bother with her. Mundane as they come.”

Aegon scoffed. “Mundane, my arse. There’s always something, yeah? Everyone’s got a secret.” He leaned in closer, lowering his voice like he was sharing some great forbidden knowledge. “I heard she’s still a virgin.”

Davos snorted, nearly choking on his water. “No way. At Cambridge? The land of drunken hookups and bad decisions?”

Aegon nodded, his eyes fixed on Jace. “Yup. Pure as the driven snow, they say. Bet she’s never even been kissed.”

Jace laughed, but it was more out of surprise than anything else. “What’s that got to do with me?”

Aegon’s smirk turned devilish. “Just saying, mate. You’ve charmed the pants off half the girls in this place. Why not try the one that’s got everyone else stumped?”

Davos caught on, grinning widely. “Yeah, Jace, bet you can’t even get her to look at you twice, let alone… you know.”

Jace raised an eyebrow. “You’re seriously betting I can’t get Y/N L/N to…?”

“To shag you,” Aegon finished, laughing. “That’s the bet. Get in her knickers, mate. Come on, it’ll be a laugh.”

Cregan, who had been sitting quietly, frowned, his brow furrowing in disapproval. “This is a bad idea,” he said, his voice low and serious. “Messing around with someone like that… it’s not right, Jace.”

Oscar nodded in agreement. “Yeah, I’m with Cregan on this one. It’s one thing to have a bit of fun, but this… it’s different. She’s not one of your usual types. You could really hurt her.”

Jace felt a strange flicker of something in his chest—a mix of guilt, curiosity, and… excitement. He brushed it off, shrugging casually. “Come on, boys. It’s not like that. Just a bit of fun, yeah? Nothing serious.”

Aegon leaned forward, eyes glinting with amusement. “So, are you in or not? Hundred pounds says you can’t do it. That’s what, a week’s worth of drinks and cigs for you?”

Jace hesitated for a moment, thinking of Y/N’s determined glare, her sharp wit, the way she didn’t give a damn about him or his reputation. She was different. Uncharted territory. A challenge.

He smirked. “Alright, you’re on,” he said, hearing the cheers and groans from the lads around him.

Cregan shook his head, already looking like he regretted being a part of this conversation. “This isn’t going to end well, Jace. I’m telling you.”

Oscar sighed. “I don’t approve, mate. But… you’ve never been one to listen anyway.”

Jace just laughed, but there was an edge to it, a thrill of something dangerous. “You all worry too much. I’ve got this.”

As they all started to pack up, heading off in different directions, Jace couldn’t shake the feeling that he’d just stepped onto a very slippery slope.

He had an hour to make it to the library. And now, he had a new game to play.

▐░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░▌

The small study hall in Y/N’s dorm was quiet except for the faint hum of the ancient radiator and the occasional rustling of paper. The place was cozy, with mismatched chairs and a long, scratched-up wooden table in the middle that looked like it had seen better days. A soft yellow light flickered overhead, casting a warm glow that made everything feel just a bit more intimate than Jace was used to.

Y/N sat across from him, her head buried in yet another thick textbook, her glasses sliding down her nose in that way they always did when she was deep in concentration. Her cat, Tabby, was sprawled out next to her, purring loudly, its fat tail flicking every so often. Jace watched the cat with a wry smile, the can of wet food hidden in his backpack, ready for his next move.

He had to admit, these study sessions weren’t exactly torture. Sure, he’d rather be out with the lads, downing pints at the pub or kicking a ball around, but there was something oddly… nice about the routine they’d developed over the last two weeks. Y/N was sharp, with a sarcastic wit that he’d quickly learned to appreciate. She didn’t laugh at his jokes, didn’t fawn over his every word, and wasn’t afraid to call him out when he was being a lazy git.

And yeah, maybe that made him want to impress her just a little bit.

Tonight, though, he had a plan. He set his textbook aside with a sigh, leaning back in his chair. “So,” he started, his tone casual, “I think I’ve got the gist of this whole War of the Roses thing now. The Yorks, the Lancasters, the whole shebang.”

Y/N glanced up, pushing her glasses back up her nose. “Oh, really?” she said, her tone dripping with skepticism. “Let’s hear it then. Enlighten me, Velaryon.”

Jace grinned, ready for the challenge. “Alright, so it’s like this: Basically, you’ve got two families—Yorks and Lancasters, right? Both got a claim to the throne, both think they’re the shit. Lots of battles, lots of blood, lots of people getting their heads chopped off. The Lancasters start off strong, but then the Yorks take over for a bit with Edward IV, right?”

Y/N nodded, her expression almost… impressed. “Okay, so far, so good.”

“Then Edward’s brother, Richard III, the shady bastard, knocks off his own nephews, or so they say—”

“They were never found,” Y/N interjected, raising a finger. “It’s just a theory.”

“Right, right, allegedly,” Jace corrected himself, rolling his eyes, “Anyway, then Henry Tudor comes in, wipes the floor with Richard at Bosworth, and boom, new king. Tudor dynasty kicks off. End of the Wars of the Roses.”

Y/N tilted her head, a small, amused smile playing at her lips. “Not bad, Jace. Not bad at all. Maybe you’re not as hopeless as I thought.”

Jace chuckled, leaning in a little closer, letting his voice drop. “See? I’m full of surprises.” He reached into his bag and pulled out the can of wet cat food, holding it up like a trophy. “And speaking of surprises… look what I brought for our furry study buddy.”

Y/N blinked, caught off guard, and then she laughed—a soft, genuine laugh that Jace hadn’t heard before. “Seriously? You brought food for Tabby?”

Jace grinned. “Figured it might earn me a few points. Besides, I’m starting to think she’s the one actually running this show.”

Tabby’s ears perked up at the sound of the can, and Y/N shook her head, amused. “You know, you didn’t have to do that. But… it’s sweet. Thanks.”

He shrugged, feeling a strange, warm twist in his chest at her reaction. “No big deal. Besides, I’m trying to stay in your good graces here, remember?”

Y/N gave him a sly look. “Oh, is that what this is? Buttering me up? This is bribery.”

Jace laughed, leaning back. “Maybe. Or maybe I just like spending time with you, even if you do make me memorize the most boring shit ever written.”

She smiled, a real one this time, and he felt something shift in the air between them, something that made his heart pick up a little faster. “History isn’t boring, Jace,” she corrected, but there was no bite to her tone, only a soft fondness. “You just have to find the right angle.”

He watched her for a moment, taking in the way her eyes sparkled behind her glasses, the way a loose strand of hair fell across her cheek. “Maybe,” he said quietly, “you can help me find it.”

For a moment, they were just there, sitting in the soft light, with Tabby purring between them. And for the first time in a long time, Jace didn’t feel like he needed to be anywhere else.

“So,” he said, breaking the silence, “tell me more about this Henry Tudor bloke. Sounds like a bit of a legend.”

Y/N laughed again, and Jace realized he could get used to that sound. “Oh, he was. But not in the way you think.”

And as she launched into a passionate explanation, Jace found himself leaning in, genuinely listening, genuinely interested. Maybe it was because of her, or maybe… just maybe, it was something else altogether.

Jace then pulled his laptop out of his bag, its surface covered in stickers from random pubs, indie bands, and some meme that Y/N didn’t quite get. He flipped it open and tapped the trackpad a few times before turning the screen toward Y/N. “Alright, don’t judge me too harshly,” he said, flashing her a grin that was equal parts sheepish and cocky. “I’ve got about fifteen hundred words down.”

Y/N took the laptop, eyebrows arching as she began to read. Her expression shifted quickly—from neutral to slightly amused, and then to something bordering on exasperated. “Jace… this reads like a bloody blog post,” she muttered, her tone half a scold, half a laugh. “I mean, really? ‘York versus Lancaster: The Original Family Feud?’”

Jace chuckled, leaning back in his chair, hands resting behind his head. “Hey, I’m just trying to keep it interesting. No one wants to read a paper full of dry academic crap.”

Y/N rolled her eyes but couldn’t hide her smile. “This isn’t about being interesting, it’s about being accurate and precise. You’re supposed to be writing a serious outline, not an article for BuzzFeed.”

He raised his hands defensively. “Alright, alright, fair point. But can you blame me? I’m trying not to fall asleep while I write this thing. I figure, if it’s fun for me, maybe it’ll be fun for whoever ends up grading it.”

Y/N shook her head, though there was a softness to her expression that Jace couldn’t ignore. “That’s… not how it works. But I’ll help you refine it. You’ve got the right ideas, just not the right… execution.”

“Story of my life,” Jace muttered, and for a moment, his grin faltered. He quickly recovered, though, leaning forward to take the laptop back. “Seriously, though, I appreciate it. I know I’m a bit of a lost cause when it comes to this stuff.”

“You’re not a lost cause,” Y/N said, surprising even herself. “Just… a bit misguided. But you’re trying, and that counts for something.”

Jace smiled, feeling that strange twist in his chest again. “Trying, yeah. I’ve got my reasons. If I don’t pass this paper, my mum’s going to cut me off. And trust me, you don’t want to be around when that happens.”

Y/N looked up, curious. “Your mum… she’s Rhaenyra Targaryen, right? The one who’s always in those society pages?”

Jace nodded, leaning back in his chair again. “That’s the one. Everyone thinks she’s this glamorous socialite, but she’s tough as nails. Proper iron lady, you know? It’s always Jacaerys, do this or Jacaerys, don’t embarrass the family. She’s got this whole plan for me, for my brother Luke, for everyone. She’d have me running for Parliament if she could.”

Y/N listened, her face softening. “That sounds… intense.”

Jace laughed. “You’ve no idea. Luke—my little brother, he’s at Eton right now, the little shit—is the golden boy. Mum dotes on him like he’s the second coming or something. He’ll be here at Cambridge next year, probably ace every exam and make me look even worse by comparison.”

He ran a hand through his hair, his grin turning a little wry. “Between you and me, Luke’s the smart one. Reads all the time, top of his class, the whole package. Meanwhile, I’m just trying to stay on the pitch and out of trouble.”

Y/N smiled a bit. “I doubt that’s all you are. You wouldn’t be here if you didn’t have something going for you.”

Jace shrugged, playing it off, but her words struck a chord. “Maybe. Or maybe it’s just because Mum and Grandfather have their names on a few buildings around here.”

Y/N let out a soft laugh, but her eyes held a glimmer of understanding. “Yeah, but that doesn’t mean you don’t deserve to be here. It just means you have to work a little harder to prove that to everyone else.”

Jace looked at her, caught off guard by the sincerity in her tone. “You really think that?”

Y/N nodded, her expression steady. “I do. I mean, you’re lazy as hell, sure, but you’re not dumb. You just need to find something that makes you want to try.”

Jace felt a flush rise in his cheeks, unexpected and a little confusing. “Yeah, well, maybe I’ve found something,” he muttered, looking away.

Tabby, sensing the change in the atmosphere, stretched out on Jace’s lap and yawned loudly, demanding attention. Jace chuckled, reaching down to scratch the cat’s ears. “You’ve got a good taste in cats, at least,” he said, grinning.

Y/N leaned back, watching Jace with a look he couldn’t quite place. “Tabby seems to like you,” she said softly, a hint of surprise in her voice. “That’s… unusual. She doesn’t usually take to strangers.”

“Maybe I’m not as much of a stranger anymore,” Jace said, looking up to meet her gaze.

Y/N’s eyes lingered on his for a moment longer than he expected, and something passed between them, something warm and tentative. She quickly looked back down at her notebook, clearing her throat. “Alright,” she said, shifting gears. “Let’s get back to work. This ‘original family feud’ bit needs to go.”

Jace laughed, pulling his laptop back toward him. “Yeah, yeah, whatever you say, boss.”

▐░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░▌

Two more weeks of grueling late-night study sessions, endless cups of coffee, and Y/N’s relentless revisions had finally paid off. Jace’s paper was finished. No, more than finished—it was actually good. Even Y/N had begrudgingly admitted it was up to her usual standards, which, coming from her, was high praise indeed.

Jace couldn’t help but feel a rush of satisfaction when he handed the paper to Professor Arryn that morning. He watched her face closely as she skimmed through the first few pages, her eyebrows slowly rising with what he hoped was approval. When she finally looked up, there was a rare, pleased smile on her face.

“Well done, Jacaerys,” she said, her tone warm. “This is… quite an improvement. I’m impressed.”

Jace grinned, feeling a surprising swell of pride. “Thanks, Professor. Guess I had a good teacher.”

Professor Arryn chuckled softly. “Yes, well, I’ll have to thank Miss L/N for her patience later. But I’m glad to see you’ve taken this seriously. Keep it up. You’ve got more potential than you think.”

Jace nodded, and as he left her office, he couldn’t shake the grin off his face. He had done it. They had done it. And he couldn’t deny the thrill he felt knowing he’d actually managed to prove everyone wrong for once.

Later that afternoon, he found himself wandering through the winding pathways of the campus, searching for Y/N. He finally spotted her by the fountain in the courtyard, sitting on a bench.

He sauntered over, casually leaning against the side of the bench. “Oi, bookworm,” he greeted, flashing her that grin he knew usually worked on most people. “Guess what?”

Y/N looked up, mildly surprised, but a small smile tugging at her lips. “I don’t know. You found another typo in your own name?”

Jace laughed, shaking his head. “Nah, better. Professor Arryn loved the paper. Said she was impressed.”

Y/N’s eyes brightened a little. “Really? Well… that’s good. I mean, not surprising, considering all the work we put into it. But still… good to hear.”

“Yeah,” Jace nodded, feeling a surge of excitement he hadn’t expected. “And I figured, you know, since it’s the weekend and all, we should celebrate. There’s a pub just off campus that does the best chicken wings. Thought you might fancy a night out?”

Y/N blinked, caught off guard. “Oh, um, I don’t usually go to pubs,” she started, fidgeting slightly. “Not really my scene.”

Jace wasn’t deterred. He leaned in a bit closer, his voice dropping to that smooth, persuasive tone he knew could win over even the most stubborn people. “Come on, Y/N. It’s just a drink, some wings, a bit of fun. You’ve earned it. Besides,” he added, lowering his voice conspiratorially, “I know you’re obsessed with chicken wings. And trust me, this place makes them mean.”

Y/N’s mouth twitched like she was trying to hide a smile. “How do you even know that?”

Jace shrugged, pretending to be innocent. “Just a guess. But seriously, you can’t turn down an offer like this. I’m buying, and I promise not to make you read any history books while we’re there. Think of it as… a reward for your hard work.”

She hesitated for a moment, but the look in his eyes was so genuinely hopeful, so damn persistent, that she found herself softening. “Alright,” she sighed finally, a small smile breaking through. “But just this once. And only because you said there’d be good wings.”

Jace’s grin widened. “Deal. I’ll pick you up at six?”

Y/N nodded, still looking a bit skeptical, but there was a flicker of excitement in her eyes that she couldn’t quite hide. “Six it is. But if it turns out to be one of those rowdy pubs with sticky floors and bad beer, I’m leaving.”

Jace laughed. “Trust me, Y/N, I’ve got taste. You won’t regret it.”

▐░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░▌

“Tonight’s the night, mate. The night you finally conquer the wallflower,” Aegon declared, sprawled out on Jace’s bed with a grin wide enough to split his face in half. He was already two beers in, and his enthusiasm was rising with every sip. “I mean, come on, you’ve done all the groundwork. You’ve got her thinking you’re some misunderstood genius or whatever. It’s bloody perfect.”

Jace rolled his eyes, tugging a fresh shirt over his head. “Piss off, Aeg, you make it sound like I’m storming a castle. It’s just a drink, alright?”

“A drink?” Aegon snorted, sitting up with exaggerated incredulity. “No, no, my friend. This is a tactical maneuver. A carefully orchestrated operation. You’ve been planting the seeds, and tonight… you reap the harvest.”

Davos, leaning against the doorframe with a lazy smile, added, “Yeah, Jace, think of it like one of those battles you’ve been studying. Except instead of swords and armor, you’ve got charm and… chicken wings.”

Jace shook his head, but he couldn’t help the grin tugging at his lips. “You lot are ridiculous. It’s not that deep, alright? It’s just… it’s been fun hanging out with her. She’s different.”

“Different?” Cregan scoffed from where he sat at Jace’s desk, fiddling with a random keychain. “Different how? Like, ‘actually has a brain’ different? Or ‘won’t fall for your bullshit’ different?”

“Both,” Jace admitted, smoothing his shirt and checking himself in the mirror. “She’s… she’s not like the usual girls, yeah? Makes me work for it. And maybe that’s not a bad thing.”

Oscar, who’d been mindlessly strumming Jace’s guitar, looked up and smirked. “Wow, you’re going soft, Jacaerys Velaryon. Next thing we know, you’ll be quoting poetry or some shit.”

Aegon laughed loudly. “Nah, he’s too thick for poetry. But don’t lose focus, Jace. Remember the bet. She’s a challenge, yeah, but you’re the bloody captain. You don’t lose.”

Jace turned to Aegon, a hint of irritation in his voice. “I know what I’m doing, alright? I don’t need you lot in my head.”

Davos chuckled, raising a hand in mock surrender. “Fair enough, fair enough. Just don’t forget why you’re doing this. I’d hate to see all your hard work go to waste.”

Jace paused, looking at his reflection, and for a second, the bravado slipped. Why was he doing this? Was it really still just about the bet, or was there something more?

He shook the thought away and turned back to his friends. “I’m not losing,” he said, more to himself than anyone else. “And tonight, I’ll prove it.”

Aegon raised his beer in a mock toast. “To Jace, the knight in shining armor, off to slay the virgin dragon.”

Jace flipped him off, but he couldn’t help but laugh. “Yeah, yeah. Wish me luck, you pricks. I’m off.”

He grabbed his jacket and headed out the door, a mix of nerves and excitement bubbling in his chest.

Jace arrived at Y/N’s dorm at exactly 5:50, which was impressive by his own standards. Usually, he didn’t bother even showing up on time with his usual rotation of girls. Hell, half of them wouldn’t mind if he rolled in an hour late, two hours, even three—they’d still fall over themselves to be near him, giggling and batting their lashes, ready to jump him at the first opportunity.

But tonight was different. He didn’t want to be late, didn’t want to give her any reason to back out. So he was there early, leaning against the doorframe, tapping his foot to an imaginary beat in his head.

When Y/N finally opened the door, she looked a bit startled, clearly on her way out herself. Her eyes widened when she saw him standing there, hands shoved in his pockets, looking far too pleased with himself.

“Jace?” she said, blinking. “You’re… early.”

He grinned. “Yeah, thought I’d mix things up a bit. You know, keep you on your toes.”

Y/N folded her arms, a little smile tugging at the corners of her lips. “Well, color me surprised. You don’t strike me as the punctual type.”

Jace laughed and shrugged. “Usually not, but I figured you’d appreciate it. And besides, I’ve been looking forward to those chicken wings all day.”

Y/N shook her head, still looking amused. “Of course, it’s the chicken wings,” she muttered, locking her door behind her. “Alright then, let’s go.”

They started walking together down the winding path that led from the dorms to the main road. The evening air was cool, and the streetlights were just beginning to flicker on, casting long shadows along the cobblestones. Jace lit a cigarette, the flame briefly illuminating his face in the dim light.

“So,” he began, making small talk, “aside from being an academic weapon and the loyal servant of Tabby the Cat, what else do you get up to?”

Y/N smirked at his choice of words. “Oh, you know, world domination, the usual.”

Jace chuckled. “Seriously, though. What do you do when you’re not buried in books?”

She shrugged, her hands tucked into the pockets of her jacket. “I volunteer at a local shelter. Animal rescue, mostly.”

Jace raised an eyebrow, genuinely intrigued. “Yeah? That’s pretty cool. What made you get into that?”

Y/N glanced at him, surprised he seemed to care. “I’ve always liked animals. And I figured, if I’m going to be stressed about everything else in life, I might as well do something good with my time. Plus, it’s kind of hard to worry about exams when you’re busy trying to get a terrified dog out from under a car.”

Jace laughed, a deep, genuine sound. “That does sound like a bit of a distraction.”

She smiled softly, nodding. “Yeah, it’s… it’s good. Keeps me grounded, you know?”

He took another drag of his cigarette, considering her words. “Makes sense. I guess we all need something like that.”

Y/N looked at him curiously. “What about you? What keeps you grounded?”

Jace hesitated, the question catching him off guard. He hadn’t really thought about it like that. “Football, I suppose,” he answered finally, a bit more seriously than he intended. “It’s the one thing that makes sense, you know? When I’m out there, everything else just… fades away.”

She nodded, understanding. “Yeah, I get that. Everyone needs a release.”

They walked in companionable silence for a moment, the sounds of the city around them filling the spaces between their words. Jace felt a strange calm settle over him, a sense that he didn’t have to perform or play a role.

As they neared the pub, the warm glow of its lights spilling out onto the street, Jace flicked his cigarette to the side, stubbing it out with his foot. “Here we are,” he said, holding the door open for her. “Prepare yourself for the best damn chicken wings in Cambridge.”

Y/N laughed, a sound that made him all warm inside. “Alright, Velaryon, I’ll be the judge of that.”

▐░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░▌

In wine, there is truth, they say. But in beer? Well, in beer, there’s a hell of a lot of bad decisions.

Jace hadn’t expected Y/N to get drunk off a few pints. Hell, he’d forgotten what it was like to be around someone who wasn’t a seasoned drinker, someone whose idea of a wild night wasn’t pounding shots until the room spun. He was used to heavyweights—Cregan downing vodka like water, Aegon always pushing the limits, the lot of them living on a constant edge between buzzed and blackout.

But Y/N? Three pints in, and she’d gone from reserved and witty to giggling mess, her cheeks flushed, her eyes bright, and—most dangerously—her hands a bit too free with him.

It was around ten when he realized she’d crossed the line from tipsy to drunk. She stumbled as they stepped outside the pub, the cool night air hitting her like a slap. Jace instinctively wrapped an arm around her waist to steady her, and she leaned into him, her head tipping against his shoulder, a small, sleepy smile on her lips.

“Y’alright?” he asked, feeling a mix of amusement and something else, something warmer, spreading through his chest. Full of denial, he made himself believe it was because of the alcohol.

“Mm, yeah,” she mumbled, her voice slightly slurred. “Just… didn’t realize how strong those beers were.”

Jace chuckled. “Lightweight,” he teased, but there was no bite to it, just an unexpected tenderness.

Aegon’s words rang in his head like a bell. Tonight’s the night. She’s a challenge, yeah, but you’re the bloody captain. You don’t lose.

It would be so easy. She was already leaning into him, her fingers curling into his jacket, her body soft and pliant against his. She looked up at him, her eyes half-lidded and dreamy, and he felt his resolve waver.

“My place?” he heard himself say, the words slipping out before he could stop them, and he cursed himself immediately.

But then she nodded, a small, trusting smile spreading across her lips. “Okay,” she agreed softly, and he felt something dark and selfish twist in his gut. Fuck.

He wrapped his arm tighter around her, supporting her as they started walking. His dorm was closer anyway, and she was so warm against him, so… trusting. He felt the tension building in him, the battle between the guy he was supposed to be and the guy he wanted to be.

As they walked, she kept giggling, saying things he couldn’t quite make out, her hands playing with the zipper of his jacket, her breath hot against his neck. “You’re not so bad, Jace,” she murmured at one point, and he felt a pang in his chest, a mix of guilt and something else. “I think… I think you’re actually kinda sweet.”

Jace swallowed hard, his mouth dry. “Yeah, well… don’t go telling anyone that,” he joked, trying to keep his tone light, even as his mind raced.

They reached his dorm, and he fumbled with the key, feeling her sway beside him, her fingers brushing his arm. “Here we are,” he muttered, pushing the door open.

She stumbled inside, giggling again, and he caught her by the waist, steadying her. She turned in his arms, looking up at him, her expression soft and open. “Thanks,” she whispered. “For tonight. I had fun.”

Jace stared down at her, his heart pounding in his chest. He knew he could do it—he could lean down, close the gap, and she wouldn’t push him away. She’d let him, she’d probably kiss him back, and it’d be the easiest thing in the world.

But something held him back. Something in the way she looked at him, her eyes so trusting, so… innocent. It made him feel like the biggest prick on earth.

He felt Aegon’s taunting voice in his head, heard Davos’s laugh, remembered the bet, the stupid bloody bet. And he hated himself in that moment, hated the way he’d played this, hated the way he was tempted.

“Come on,” he said softly, steering her toward the bed. “You need to lie down.”

Y/N giggled, collapsing onto the mattress. “Oh, is that an invitation, Velaryon?” she teased, her voice light, her eyes half-closed.

Jace forced a laugh, trying to keep his hands from shaking. “Nah, just… making sure you’re comfortable,” he said, pulling a blanket over her.

He sat on the edge of the bed, his heart thundering in his chest as he tried to get his bearings. This wasn’t how he’d planned for tonight to go—he wasn’t sure what he’d planned, but it sure as hell wasn’t this. Not sitting here, feeling like the floor had dropped out from under him while Y/N lay there, soft and warm and too damn close.

He was about to stand up, to put some distance between them before he did something stupid, when he felt her fingers brush against his cheek, tentative and light. Her touch sent a spark skittering down his spine, and he froze.

“I never noticed your freckles before,” she murmured, her voice slurred. “They’re… cute.”

Jace’s breath hitched, and his focus, which had been hanging by a thread, snapped completely. He’d lost it five minutes ago, maybe longer, the second she’d started touching him, the second she’d looked at him with those eyes, her lips all plump and pink from the spicy wings earlier.

He was staring at her lips now, unable to look away. They were wet and inviting, and he could almost taste the beer and the traces of spice on them, feel the warmth of her breath. His mind was racing, and his body… shit, his body was reacting like he’d never had a woman over before.

Y/N caught him staring, and she let out a soft, self-conscious laugh. “I must be a mess, huh?” she said, her voice laced with uncertainty. “I mean… I’m definitely a downgrade from all the women who’ve graced your room and this bed before.”

Jace’s heart stuttered, guilt and desire twisting together in his chest like a vice. She had no idea, did she? No clue about the bet, about the way his friends had egged him on, made this into some twisted game. She was here, vulnerable, open, looking at him like he was something more than a stupid, privileged jerk who could charm his way into anything.

His body continues warring with him, every muscle taut, every nerve alive with want. He knew damn well that under his bed, there were probably scraps of lingerie and thongs left over by fuck knows who, little trophies of past conquests, forgotten in the haze of nights he could barely remember.

But this? This was different. This was real. And he felt like he was on his very last string, the tightrope fraying beneath his feet.

Then, in a voice so quiet it was almost a whisper, she asked, “Will you kiss me?”

Jace’s brain screamed at him to stop, to decline, to be a better man than he usually was, but the words caught in his throat. Y/N was looking at him, all hot and bothered, her cheeks flushed, her lips parted, and he could see the longing in her eyes, the same need he felt thrumming through his veins.

“Y/N…” he managed, his voice hoarse, strained. “You’re drunk, and I… I don’t want to—”

But she leaned closer, her breath warm against his lips, her fingers still resting on his cheek. “Please, Jace,” she whispered, her voice pleading, “just kiss me.”

And fuck, he tried. He really tried to hold back, to keep the distance, to be the decent guy he’d been pretending to be for the last few weeks. But the way she looked at him, like he was something she needed, something she wanted, something more than a mistake…

He was gone. Completely and utterly gone.

He closed the distance between them in one swift movement, his hand cupping her jaw, his lips crashing against hers. The kiss was rough, desperate, all the tension of the last few weeks pouring out in one fierce, needy snog. He groaned, pulling her closer, his fingers tangling in her hair.

Y/N responded immediately, kissing him back with equal enthusiasm, her hands clutching his shirt, pulling him closer, pressing herself against him. He felt her body arch into his, and he couldn’t help but deepen the kiss, his tongue sweeping into her mouth, tasting her, losing himself in the heat of it, in the softness of her lips.

He knew he should stop, knew he was crossing a line he had no right to, but he couldn't think clearly anymore, couldn't focus on anything except the feel of her against him, the taste of her lips, the way she was kissing him with so much need. He could tell she hadn’t done this much before—her movements were uncertain, a bit clumsy—but none of that mattered now.

Jace’s mind was spinning, his breath coming in ragged as he broke the kiss and gently pushed her back, his hands resting on her shoulders. “Wait,” he murmured, his voice unsteady. “Y/N… have you done this before?”

She blinked up at him, her eyes hazy but honest. “No,” she whispered, her voice barely audible, like she was admitting a secret she wasn’t sure she wanted to share.

His heart lurched at that. He cursed under his breath, his hands still on her shoulders, holding her at a careful distance. “We should stop,” he said softly, trying to keep his voice steady. “I don’t want you to be angry with me… or yourself, come morning.”

Y/N shook her head, her fingers sliding up his arms, stubborn as ever. “I won’t be,” she insisted, her voice firmer now, a determined edge to it. “I know what I want, Jace.”

He felt a shiver run down his spine, but he fought against it, trying to hold on to his last shred of self-control. “You’re drunk,” he murmured, “and I don’t want to take advantage of that.”

But she was already leaning in again, pressing closer, her lips grazing his neck, right where she knew his pulse was pounding. “I’m not that drunk,” she whispered against his skin, her breath hot, sending a jolt through his entire body. “And I want this… I want you.”

Her mouth moved over his neck, by sheer luck finding a soft spot just below his ear, and he felt a groan rise in his throat, his body betraying him completely. Her lips were gentle but insistent, kissing the spot where she could feel his pulse racing, and he felt his resolve slipping, melting under the warmth of her touch.

“Y/N,” he breathed, trying to keep his voice steady, but it was hopeless. Every time her lips brushed his skin, he felt like he was losing another piece of himself. “We really shouldn’t—”

But she wasn’t listening, her hands moving up his chest, her lips still at his neck, kissing and nipping, her touch sending sparks all through him. She was so damn stubborn, and it was driving him wild, his hands gripping her waist as if to anchor himself.

“Please, Jace,” she whispered again, her voice a breathy plea against his skin, and he felt something in him snap. For a moment, he hovered on the edge, caught between his desire and his conscience, every nerve screaming at him to just give in, to take what she was so freely offering.

But then he saw her eyes, the way they were wide and unguarded, and he remembered her earlier words, the soft confession—no, she hadn’t done this before. She was drunk, not in her right mind, and damn it all, he knew he wasn’t either.

He took a deep breath, letting it out slowly. For once in his life, he chose to be the bigger person, to do the right thing, even though every part of him was screaming to just lose himself in her. There was no way in hell he was going to go all the way with her—not like this, not when she was a virgin and not when they both were just a little too far gone.

But he also wasn’t going to just leave her wanting, not when he could see the need in her eyes, the flush in her cheeks, feel the way her body was pressed up against his, warm and willing. He could give her something, at least. And that was a thought that sent a rush of heat through him, a decision settling deep in his bones.

Jace let out a slow, shaky breath, his hands sliding down her sides. “Alright,” he murmured, his voice low, almost a growl. “Not everything… but I can still make you feel good. Really good.”

She blinked up at him, confusion and desire mixing in her eyes. “What do you—”

He didn’t let her finish. Instead, he gently pushed her back onto the bed, his lips brushing against her jaw, trailing down her neck. He felt her breath hitch, her fingers digging into his shoulders as he moved lower, kissing down her collarbone, his hands sliding under her shirt, lifting it just enough to reveal her skin.

He looked up at her once more, his gaze intense. “I’m gonna make you feel so good, Y/N,” he promised, his voice rough with need. “Just trust me.”

And then he was lowering himself between her thighs, hands gently spreading her legs, his breath warm against her skin. He kissed her inner thigh, his fingers teasing at the edge of her panties, and he felt her shiver beneath him, her breath coming faster, her eyes wide with anticipation.

He knew this was something he was good at��something he had honed to perfection over the years. Someone should really give him a degree for it, a bloody medal for his services to women. Because if there was one thing Jace Velaryon knew how to do, it was this.

He slipped her panties down slowly, savoring the way her breath hitched, the way she tensed in anticipation. He spread her legs a bit wider, his hands gripping her thighs firmly, and he leaned in, his tongue flicking out to taste her. The first touch was gentle, almost tentative, and he felt her gasp, her hips arching off the bed.

Jace grinned against her skin, a low, satisfied hum rumbling in his chest. “Just relax,” he whispered, his breath hot against her, “and let me take care of you.”

He set to work, his tongue moving in slow, deliberate strokes, teasing her, tasting her, finding every sensitive spot and lingering there until she was gasping, her hands clutching his sheets, her head thrown back in pleasure. He ignored his own growing need, focused entirely on her, on the way her body responded to him, the way she trembled under his touch.

He sucked gently, his tongue swirling over her clit, his hands gripping her thighs tighter, feeling the tension building in her, the way her breaths were coming faster, more desperate. She was close—he could feel it, could hear it in the way she moaned his name, her voice breathless and needy.

He kept going, picking up the pace, his tongue moving faster, more insistent, his fingers joining in, stroking her in rhythm with his mouth. She was writhing now, her hips moving against him, her moans turning into cries, her fingers twisting in his hair, holding him closer.

“Jace,” she gasped, her voice breaking, “Oh, gods, Jace—”

He didn’t stop, didn’t slow down. He kept up the relentless rhythm, his mouth working her with a skill perfected by experience, by knowing exactly how to drive a woman to the edge and hold her there until she was begging for release. His fingers moved in motion with his tongue, pressing deeper, finding that perfect spot inside her, feeling the way her body clenched around him, her thighs quivering under his hands.

Y/N was a mess above him, her breaths coming out in broken gasps, her body arching off the bed, every muscle tense, straining toward that peak. Her moans were getting louder, more frantic, her nails digging into his scalp, pulling him closer.

She was so close—he could feel it in the way her hips bucked against him, the way she was practically chanting his name now, over and over, like a prayer, like a plea.

And then, with a final swirl of his tongue, a firm press of his fingers, she shattered.

Her orgasm ripped through her, a wave of pleasure so intense it stole her breath, her cry breaking into a sob, her entire body shaking with it. Jace kept his mouth on her, coaxing her through it, feeling the rush of her release, the way she came apart beneath him, raw and real and beautiful.

He didn’t stop until he felt the tremors subside, until her hands loosened in his hair, her body going limp, spent and sated. Only then did he pull back, kissing her inner thigh softly before moving up the bed to lie beside her, his breathing ragged, his own body still tight with need he chose to ignore.

Y/N lay there, her chest rising and falling, her eyes still closed, a dazed smile playing on her lips. She turned her head to look at him, her gaze soft and filled with something he couldn’t quite name.

“That was…” she breathed, her voice still a little shaky, “that was...”

Jace smirked, his thumb lazily tracing her cheek. “Mind-blowing? Legendary? Best damn thing you’ve ever had?” he teased, his voice thick with cheeky arrogance. “Told you I’d make it worth your while.”

Y/N slapped him playfully on the chest, her eyes still feel heavy with the afterglow, but a grin tugging at her lips. “Yeah, yeah,” she laughed, her voice a mix of sarcasm and lingering breathlessness, “I get it now. I understand why every woman at Cambridge turns into a cat in heat around you.”

Jace chuckled, his grin widening, feeling a surge of satisfaction at the sight of her so relaxed, so damn comfortable with him. “Well,” he drawled, leaning in closer, his lips brushing against her ear, “I do aim to please. Can’t blame them for wanting a repeat performance, yeah?”

She rolled her eyes, but there was amusement in them. “You’re a real piece of work,” she muttered, but her smile gave her away.

He laughed, dropping a quick kiss on top of her head. “Maybe,” he said, pulling back just enough to meet her gaze, “but admit it—you’re not complaining.”

Her cheeks flushed a bit, but she didn’t look away. “Alright, fine,” she conceded, her grin softening. “I guess you’re not completely useless.”

Jace barked out a laugh, his hand now resting on her cheek, his thumb brushing over her skin. “High praise, coming from you.”

▐░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░▌

The next morning, Y/N woke up with a pounding headache, her mouth dry as sandpaper, and a groan slipping from her lips before she even opened her eyes. The room felt too bright, her skull thudding like someone was hammering a drum inside her head. Her first hangover—and it was every bit as awful as people had warned.

“Morning, sunshine,” came Jace’s voice, too cheerful, too loud. She cracked one eye open to find him leaning against a desk, a lazy grin on his lips. He held out a bottle of some isotonic drink and a couple of ibuprofen tablets in his palm. “Here, take these. Trust me; they’re a lifesaver.”

She squinted at him, trying to make sense of the blur that was his face, and groaned again. “Do you have to be so… perky?”

Jace chuckled, moving closer and handing her the pills and the drink. “Nah, but it’s a bit fun watching you suffer,” he teased. “First hangover?”

“Obviously,” she muttered, swallowing the pills and chugging the drink like it was holy water. “Why did no one tell me it would feel like getting hit by a bloody carriage?”

He laughed, sitting down on the edge of the bed. “Consider it a lesson learned, yeah? But hey, you handled yourself pretty well last night.”

Y/N felt her face flush, memories from the night before rushing back in a haze of heat and embarrassment. “Yeah, well… thanks, I guess,” she mumbled, not quite meeting his eyes.

Jace grinned and, after deeming her well enough to stand, pulled out a well-worn sweater from his wardrobe. “Here,” he said, tossing it to her. “Borrow this. You’re going to need something warm for the walk back.”

She caught the sweater and stared at it for a moment. It was oversized, soft-looking, and smelled faintly of him—a mix of cologne and something else she couldn’t quite place. She slipped it over her head, the fabric swallowing her, but it was warm and oddly comforting.

Jace then grabbed a pair of sunglasses off his desk and slid them onto her face with a wink. “And these, to protect you from the cruel, unforgiving daylight.”

She couldn’t help but smile, a small laugh bubbling up despite the ache in her head. “Thanks, Jace,” she murmured, feeling strangely touched by his small gestures.

He gave her a once-over, nodding approvingly. “Look at that. Almost like you’re ready to face the world again.”

She rolled her eyes but felt a warmth spread through her that wasn’t just from the sweater. “Almost.”

Jace walked her to the door, his hand on the small of her back, guiding her gently. “Come on, let’s get you out of here before the rest of the lads wake up and start giving us grief.”

Y/N smirked, adjusting the sunglasses on her nose. “Thanks for… everything,” she said, her voice soft but sincere.

Jace just smiled, that damn charming grin of his, and opened the door for her. “Anytime, Y/N. Anytime.”

He watched her disappear down the hall, his sweater draped over her like a dress, her steps still a bit wobbly but steadier than before. He lingered for a moment longer than necessary, an odd mix of satisfaction and uncertainty bubbling in his chest. He couldn’t shake the feeling that maybe, he didn’t want this to be a one-time thing.

As he turned around, he nearly jumped out of his skin when he saw Cregan standing a few steps away, leaning casually against the wall near the water cooler. His arms were crossed, and there was a knowing look in his eyes.

“Fucking hell, Cregan,” Jace muttered, a bit more defensive than he’d meant to sound. “You spying on me now?”

Cregan shrugged, pushing off the wall and taking a few steps closer, his expression calm but unreadable. “Just grabbing some water,” he said, though his tone was heavy with implication. “Couldn’t help but notice… that was quite the exit.”

Jace rolled his eyes, trying to play it cool. “Yeah, well, we had a fun night. No harm in that.”

Cregan’s lips quirked up in a small, humorless smile. “She’s a nice girl, Jace,” he said quietly, his voice carrying a weight that made Jace shift uncomfortably. “A real nice girl.”

Jace sighed, already sensing where this was going. “I know, I know,” he said, holding up a hand like he was warding off a lecture. “And I didn’t sleep with her, alright? Just… third base. That’s it.”

Cregan’s expression didn’t change. If anything, his brows drew together, a shadow of disappointment crossing his face. “Third base, huh?” he repeated, voice flat. “And how do you think she’s going to feel when she finds out about the bet?”

Jace bristled, his jaw tightening. “Look, I didn’t do anything wrong. She wanted it. I didn’t push her.”

Cregan sighed deeply, rubbing the back of his neck. “I’m not saying you forced her, Jace,” he replied, his tone measured, like he was trying to keep his annoyance in check. “But you know damn well she doesn’t know the whole story. She doesn’t know she’s just a notch on some stupid bet you made with Aegon and Davos.”

Jace clenched his fists, a flicker of guilt crossing his face. “It wasn’t like that,” he muttered, but even he didn’t sound convinced.

Cregan gave him a long, hard look, his eyes piercing. “Maybe not to you,” he said quietly, “but it will be to her when she finds out. And trust me, Jace, she’s going to find out. These things always do.”

Jace opened his mouth to argue, but nothing came out. He felt a knot tighten in his stomach.

Cregan shook his head, stepping back. “Don’t say I didn’t see this impending mess coming,” he said, his voice resigned. “Just… don’t hurt her, Jace. She doesn’t deserve that.”

Jace watched him turn and walk away, his words hanging heavy in the air. And he felt the weight of what he’d done settle on his shoulders, the reality sinking in.

He could still hear Aegon’s taunting voice in his head, but now, it sounded more like a curse than a victory.

▐░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░▌

How to Find Out You're the Punchline of a Bet: A Step-by-Step Guide!

Y/N stood outside Jace’s door, holding his sweater and sunglasses in her hands, trying to calm the fluttering nerves in her stomach. She’d had them freshly laundered, even though she’d slept in the sweater more nights than she’d care to admit. It had been too warm, too soft, and way too him. She might have drooled on it as well, but whatever, he didn’t need to know that.

She’d been debating for days whether to bring them back in person or just drop them off and leave. But somehow, she found herself here, standing outside his door, trying to summon the courage to knock.

That was when she saw him.

He was at the end of the corridor, coming back from another practice session, sweaty and still in his kit, flanked by his usual crew—Aegon, Davos, Oscar, and Cregan. They were laughing, shoving each other around, lost in their own world. They hadn’t noticed her yet.

She took a step forward, ready to call out, but then she froze.

Aegon’s loud, obnoxious voice cut through the hallway like a knife, his tone mocking and overly enthusiastic. “Oi, Jace!” he shouted, punching Jace playfully in the arm, a wide grin on his face. “Fair’s fair, mate! You earned it.”

Y/N watched as Aegon reached into his pocket and pulled out a wad of cash. He peeled off a couple of notes and smacked them into Jace’s hand—£100, easy. Maybe more.

Her stomach twisted, a weird, uneasy feeling creeping up her spine. What the hell was that for?

Then she heard it—the answer she hadn’t been looking for, delivered in Aegon’s stupid, booming voice.

“Can’t believe you actually did it,” Aegon laughed, clapping Jace on the back. “Thought you’d bottle it with the little wallflower, L/N. Didn’t think you had it in you to seal the deal, but you proved me wrong. Fair bet, mate. A hundred quid well-earned!”

Y/N’s heart stopped. She felt her blood run cold as her own name slipped from Aegon’s mouth, followed by a word that made her stomach drop: bet.

She ducked back into the shadow of the wall, pressing herself flat against it, her heart hammering in her chest. She felt like she’d been slapped, the shock of it hitting her all at once. She clutched the sweater to her chest, bile rising in her throat.

She’d been a bloody bet. A joke. Something for them to laugh about over beers and practice sessions. She had trusted him. Believed in that stupid grin and those stupid, warm eyes. And all the while, he’d been playing her.

She swallowed hard, trying to steady her breathing, but it felt like the air was choking her. She had her answer now—clear as day.

And god, did it hurt.

They were coming closer, their voices louder, their laughter echoing down the corridor. Y/N’s heart pounded in her ears, each step they took making her feel like the ground was about to give way beneath her. She gripped the sweater tighter in her hands, trying to steady herself, to stop the tremor that had started in her fingers.

And then Jace saw her.

His face paled instantly, the color draining from his cheeks, his smile vanishing like a shadow under harsh light. He slowed to a stop, and the rest of the group followed suit, their expressions shifting from amusement to confusion—and in some cases, dread.

Cregan sighed, a resigned, knowing look in his eyes. Aegon, who had been all smiles a moment ago, faltered, his grin slipping away, replaced by an uneasy look.

Y/N felt a cold fury settle in her veins, pushing back the wave of hurt that threatened to swallow her whole. She took a deep breath, steeling herself, her chin lifting with a defiance she didn’t even know she possessed.

“I just came to return these,” she said, her voice colder than ice, every word clipped and deliberate. She thrust the sweater and sunglasses into Jace’s chest, her hands trembling despite her best efforts to stay calm.

Jace took them reflexively, his mouth opening and closing like he was searching for something to say, but no words came. His eyes were wide, filled with panic and something that looked a lot like shame.

Before he could get a word out, before he could try to explain or deny or beg, Y/N’s hand came up in one swift motion.

She slapped him across the face, the sound sharp and loud in the suddenly silent corridor.

Jace flinched, the impact snapping his head to the side, his cheek reddening instantly where her hand had connected. He blinked, stunned, his hand instinctively touching the spot where she’d hit him.

Y/N didn’t wait for a response. Didn’t give him the satisfaction of seeing the tears that were threatening to spill over. She turned on her heel, her head held high, and walked away, every step feeling like it was taking all the strength she had left.

She didn’t look back. She didn’t say another word. She didn’t need to.

Jace stood frozen, his cheek stinging, his mind whirling, trying to process what had just happened. The corridor felt like it had gone eerily quiet, the only sound the dull thud of his heartbeat in his ears. He could still feel the imprint of her hand on his face, the shock of it running through his body like an electric current.

Did that really just happen?

He blinked, still trying to make sense of it, his thoughts a chaotic mess. He’d been slapped before, sure, but not like that. Not with that kind of fury, that kind of raw, cold anger.

Aegon and Davos stood a few steps behind him, both of them looking like they’d just been doused with ice water.

“Well… crap,” Aegon muttered, scratching the back of his neck, his usual bravado suddenly deflated. “That… that did not go as planned.”

Davos grimaced, shifting uncomfortably on his feet. “No shit, Aegon,” he muttered, glancing over at Jace, who still hadn’t moved.

Jace didn’t respond, still staring at the spot where Y/N had been, his expression blank, like he was trying to decipher some impossible puzzle.

Cregan just sighed, shaking his head with a look that was equal parts disappointment and resignation. “I told you this would happen,” he said quietly, almost to himself.

Without another word, Cregan turned and walked away, his footsteps echoing down the corridor, leaving the rest of them standing in the heavy silence.

Oscar, who had been hanging back, finally spoke up, a half-amused, half-sympathetic look on his face. “Crash and burn, mate,” he said, his voice almost soft. “Crash and bloody burn.”

Jace blinked, finally tearing his gaze away from where Y/N had disappeared. He felt a strange hollowness in his chest, a tightness in his throat that he couldn’t swallow down.

He’d messed up. Badly. And this time, he wasn’t sure he could charm or talk his way out of this one.

▐░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░▌

In Aegon’s defense, he didn’t expect Jace to trip balls and spiral the way he had. The guy looked like he’d been living in a cave, all hollow-eyed and pale like bloody Dracula, and he was a miserable sight—mopey, silent, just plain ugly these days. For the past few weeks, Jace had been in a mood so deep and dark that even Aegon, the king of bad decisions, was starting to feel concerned.

Aegon had tried everything in his bag of tricks. Hell, he even brought out the big guns—he knew Jace used to have a thing for his sister, Helaena. So he’d gone to her, practically on his knees, begging for her to hook up with him or at least flirt a bit, throw him a bone to pull him out of this funk.

But Helaena had returned with a bemused smile, reporting that Jace had looked at her like she was crazy or some shit. “Honestly, Aegon,” she had said, “he stared at me like I had personally offended him. I don't think it's going to work.”

Nothing worked. Not a damn thing.

Cregan, usually the voice of reason in their little gang of idiots, had tried talking sense into him, cornering Jace after practice with the kind of serious, no-nonsense tone that usually worked. But Jace had just brushed him off, muttering something incoherent, looking like a phantom drifting through the halls.

Oscar had taken his turn, too, showing up at Jace’s dorm with his best bottle of whiskey and a pack of expensive cigs, hoping to lure him back to life with old vices. But Jace barely touched the drink, barely looked at the smokes, just sat there staring out the window like a man waiting for the death penalty.

His mates were at their wit's end. They’d bent over backward to drag him out of this shambles, tried everything they could think of, and nothing had made a dent. Jace was lost in his own head, his own mess, and Aegon was starting to wonder if this was what permanent damage looked like.

Aegon sighed heavily, watching Jace slouched in the corner of their usual pub, staring blankly at his untouched pint. “For fuck’s sake, man,” Aegon muttered under his breath. “What the hell are we supposed to do with you?”

Even Davos, normally the most reckless of the bunch, was beginning to worry. “We’ve tried everything,” he whispered to Cregan, who only nodded grimly.

“Maybe,” Cregan said quietly, “he’s got to figure this one out on his own.”

Aegon scowled. “Yeah, well, he better figure it out soon, or I’m dragging his sorry arse to therapy. I’ve got limits, you know.”

Jace didn’t even glance up. And his friends could only watch, exasperated and out of ideas, as the once carefree, charming captain of the football team spiraled deeper into his own self-made hell.

Jace then muttered something under his breath about needing to use the loo, pushing himself up from his chair and shuffling off toward the back of the pub. His mates watched him go, the silence thick.

Oscar leaned in as soon as Jace was out of earshot, his voice low but urgent. “I think we need to talk to Y/N,” he said, glancing around the table. “Get her to talk to him, or at least see if she’ll give him a chance to explain himself.”

Davos nodded quickly, his brow furrowed. “Yeah, shit, man. I’m scared one of these days he’s going to do something stupid. I mean, look at him? He’s a bloody mess. I’ve never seen him like this.”

Cregan sighed heavily, running a hand over his face. “His brother called me yesterday,” he admitted, his voice grim. “Said Jace hasn’t been answering his mum’s texts or calls. She’s worried sick. Wants to know what the hell’s going on, but I’ve got nothing to tell her.”

Aegon looked around at the lot of them, his usual cocky grin replaced by a serious frown. “Yeah, we need an intervention. This is getting out of hand. If anyone can snap him out of it, it’s her.”

Oscar nodded in agreement. “She’s got every right to hate him, but… we’ve gotta try, right? Maybe if she just talks to him, hears him out, it’ll help. He’s spiraling, and none of us know how to get through to him.”

Cregan looked uncertain, but he finally nodded. “Alright,” he said. “But we have to be careful with this. She’s pissed, and for good reason. We can’t just waltz up and ask her to forgive him like it’s nothing.”

Aegon leaned back in his chair, looking more serious than any of them had seen him in a while. “So, how do we do this?” he asked, eyes flicking to the others. “Who’s gonna reach out to her?”

Cregan exhaled slowly. “I will. I’ll find a way to talk to her, explain… something. Let her know he’s not himself. We just need a chance. Otherwise, I’m afraid Jace is going to do something we can’t fix.”

They all nodded, glancing toward the hallway where Jace had disappeared.

▐░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░▌

The next afternoon, Cregan Stark found himself walking along the Cambridge Backs, the gentle curve of the river Cam glinting in the sunlight, punts gliding lazily over the water, laughter and the murmur of tourists drifting in the air. He had asked around, pieced together the clues, and finally located her usual haunt—a quiet spot along the riverbank, tucked beneath a canopy of willows.

And there she was.

Y/N sat on the grass, a book open on her lap, though she didn’t seem to be reading it. Her eyes were swollen and puffy, dark circles smudged beneath them, as if sleep had been evading her for days. She looked almost as bad as Jace did, and for a moment, Cregan thought it was almost funny—if it weren’t so damn tragic—how much alike they looked.

She spotted him approaching and her eyes narrowed into thin slits, her whole body tensing like she was preparing for a fight. Cregan raised his hands quickly, palms out, a peace offering. “Hey, hey, I come in peace,” he called out, a small, disarming smile on his lips. “Promise I’m not here to make things worse.”

Y/N rolled her eyes, but at least she didn’t immediately bolt. She looked annoyed, but resigned, almost like she’d been expecting one of Jace’s friends to show up sooner or later. “Of all people,” she muttered, “at least they were smart enough to send you. The one with half a brain.”

Cregan chuckled, stuffing his hands into his pockets as he walked over and sat down a good distance away, giving her some space. “I’ll take that as a compliment,” he said lightly. “Though I think you’ve already got my number. I’m not here to defend anyone. Just… wanted to talk.”

She snorted softly, glancing back at her book. “If you’re here to try to make me feel sorry for Jace, save your breath. I’m not interested in playing the sympathy card.”

He shook his head, his expression earnest. “I’m not here to ask for sympathy, Y/N. I’m here because… look, for all the love I have for my mates, especially Jace, I told them from the start that this bet was a shitty idea. Callous. I disagreed with it, and I warned them. Didn’t stop them, obviously, but… I tried.”

Y/N looked at him, her eyes still guarded, but there was a flicker of curiosity there. “So why are you here now? You think saying ‘I told them so’ is going to make any difference?”

Cregan sighed, leaning back against the bench. “Nah, I know it doesn’t fix anything. But I thought you should hear it from someone who… I don’t know, isn’t completely messed up in the head like Aegon. Gods, I love him like my own brother, but the man is a ticking timebomb.”

Y/N let out a small, involuntary laugh at that, surprising herself. “Yeah,” she muttered, “I got that impression.”

Cregan smiled slightly, sensing he was making a little headway. “Jace has been… well, let’s just say he looks like he’s been waterboarded. I’ve never seen him like this before, Y/N. He’s not eating, not sleeping, not talking to anyone. We’re worried, and none of us know how to reach him. It’s like he’s punishing himself or something.”

Y/N’s face softened for a brief moment, but then she straightened, putting her defenses back up. “Well, maybe he deserves it,” she said quietly, though there wasn’t as much bite to her words as she’d intended. “He made his bed, didn’t he?”

Cregan nodded. “Yeah, he did. But I think he’s realized just how badly he’s messed up. And I know you don’t owe him anything, not even your time… but I’m asking. Would you talk to him? Even if it’s just to tell him off properly, maybe it’ll snap him out of this spiral he’s in.”

Y/N studied him for a moment, her fingers playing with the edge of her book. “Why should I?” she asked, her voice softer now, almost hesitant. “Why should I give him the satisfaction?”

Cregan leaned forward, his gaze steady. “Maybe not for him,” he said softly. “But for you. Because carrying this around… it isn’t doing you any good either.”

She looked down, her shoulders tense, a battle clearly waging inside her. After a long pause, she finally nodded, just once. “Fine,” she whispered. “I’ll talk to him. But I’m not promising anything.”

Cregan smiled, relief flooding through him. “That’s all I’m asking, Y/N. Thank you.”

She nodded again, her expression still wary, but Cregan could see tiny cracks in her armor. Seems like he has done his job. And that’s all the push he could do.

“Good luck,” he said, standing up and giving her a reassuring nod. “You’re gonna need it with that idiot.”

An hour later, Y/N stood outside Jace’s door, her heart pounding, her nerves shot to hell. She took a deep breath, steeling herself, then knocked on the door with more force than necessary.

Jace opened it, looking like he’d just rolled out of bed, his hair tousled, eyes wide with shock when he saw who was standing there. He looked so stunned, she almost laughed.

“Y-Y/N?” he sputtered, his voice an awkward mess of surprise. “What—what are you doing here?”

He started to stammer out more incoherent sentences, a jumble of half-formed apologies, but she cut him off with a raised hand. “I don’t want to do this here,” she said firmly. “I need some fresh air while I listen to whatever sad attempt you’re about to make to justify what you did.”

Jace blinked, swallowing hard, and nodded quickly, grabbing his jacket off a chair. “Okay… yeah, sure,” he mumbled, following her out of the dorm like a scolded puppy.

They walked in silence for a few minutes, Y/N leading the way through until they reached a quieter, less crowded part of the grounds. The air was crisp, the sky overcast, but it felt good—clean, refreshing, something he hadn’t felt in weeks.

She finally stopped, crossing her arms over her chest and turning to face him. “Okay, talk,” she demanded, her tone sharp, daring him to make this worth her time.

Jace ran a hand through his hair, feeling like a complete idiot. “Look,” he started, “I know I messed up. I know how stupid and cruel the bet was… I realized it from the start, but I went along with it anyway. I was out of my damn mind. I don’t have a good excuse.”

Y/N’s eyes flashed, anger boiling over. “Why?” she spat. “Why would you do that? I mean, I get that you’re a bit dim, but I didn’t think you were that cruel. And I’m an idiot for falling for it. If you’re dumb, then I’m even dumber.”

Jace flinched, the sting of her words hitting him hard, but he forced himself to keep going. “I didn’t want to do anything that night,” he said, his voice softer, more desperate. “You were drunk, and I knew it wasn’t right. But… fuck, Y/N, I really did want to kiss you. So when you asked me to, what was I supposed to do? How the hell was I supposed to say no?”

That shut her up real good.

She stared at him, her anger momentarily replaced by confusion, disbelief. “Why the hell would you even be into me?” she demanded, her voice tinged with frustration. “You could have anyone—why would you even look twice at me?”

Jace’s frustration boiled over. “Maybe that’s exactly why!” he shouted back. “Maybe I’m tired of the same old bullshit! Maybe you’re the first real person I’ve met in this whole bloody place, and it scared the hell out of me.”

They bickered back and forth. Y/N was still angry, still hurt, and Jace was struggling to make her understand, to make her see that it wasn’t just about the bet, that there was more to it—more to him, to them.

And then, suddenly, the sky opened up. Rain poured down out of nowhere, drenching them both in seconds.

“Great, absolutely fantastic,” Y/N muttered, throwing her hands up in exasperation as the rain pelted down. “I just washed my hair this morning. And now this.”

She looked like she was on the verge of tears, a mix of frustration and exhaustion weighing her down, and Jace’s heart twisted at the sight. He reached out, his hand hovering uncertainly near her arm. “Can we start over?” he asked, his voice pleading. “Please, Y/N. You can slap me again if you want. I’d do anything to make this right.”

Y/N just stared at him, long and hard, the rain streaming down her face, mingling with the tears she refused to let fall. She could see the sincerity in his eyes, the raw, unfiltered regret, the desperation in his voice. And in that moment, all the anger, all the hurt, seemed to wash away with the rain.

“I just really want to kiss you right now,” she whispered, her voice barely audible over the sound of the downpour.

And then, before he could say anything, she closed the distance between them, her lips crashing against his with a force that took his breath away.

Jace responded immediately, his arms wrapping around her, pulling her close as he kissed her back with everything he had, the rain soaking them both to the bone, but neither of them cared. The world around them seemed to fade away, the only thing that mattered was this—this kiss, this connection, this second chance.

His lips moved against hers with a desperation that bordered on frantic, his hands sliding up to cup her face, thumbs brushing the rain-soaked strands of hair from her cheeks. He kissed her like she was the only thing keeping him grounded.

Between kisses, he managed to whisper, “I’m sorry… I’m so sorry… please, forgive me…”

Y/N felt his words more than heard them, the breath of each apology warm against her mouth, mingling with the rain. Her heart twisted, conflicted, every emotion tangled up inside her—anger, hurt, relief, and something stronger, something she’d been trying to bury since the moment he’d first kissed her.

But she couldn’t deny the way he was holding her, the sincerity in his voice, the way his hands trembled slightly against her skin. He was being so gentle with her.

“Jace,” she whispered against his lips, her voice catching in her throat. “I… I want to forgive you, but I don’t know how. You hurt me. You made me feel like a joke.”

He pulled back just enough to meet her gaze, his forehead resting against hers, his breath ragged and warm. “I know,” he murmured, his voice thick with emotion. “I know, and I hate myself ever since for it. But I swear, Y/N, I never meant for it to be like this. I never wanted to hurt you. It was stupid and wrong and… and I was a bloody idiot.”

She swallowed hard, searching his eyes, finding nothing but raw, open honesty. “You were,” she agreed softly, her fingers still clutching the front of his shirt. “But… maybe we’re both idiots. Because I still…”

Jace’s heart leaped in his chest, hope flaring bright and wild. “Because you still what?” he pressed, his thumb brushing over her cheek, wiping away a raindrop that looked suspiciously like a tear.

“Because I still… want to try,” she admitted, her voice barely above a whisper. “I don’t know why, but I do.”

Jace’s lips curved into a small, hopeful smile, his hand cradling her face with a tenderness that surprised even him. “Then try with me,” he whispered, his lips hovering over hers again. “Let me make it up to you. Let me prove that I’m worth it… worthy of you.”

Y/N hesitated for a moment, then nodded, just once, her heart thudding wildly in her chest. “Okay,” she whispered. “But don’t make me regret this, Jacaerys Velaryon.”

“I won’t,” he promised again, and his lips found hers with a new urgency, a fervent hope that maybe, just maybe, this time he could get it right. “I swear, love, I won’t.”

And then, as if the universe wanted to punctuate the moment, a blinding flash of lightning lit up the sky, followed immediately by a crack of thunder that shook the ground beneath them. Both of them jumped apart, startled, wide-eyed like kids caught sneaking out past curfew.

“Shit!” Jace laughed, glancing up at the dark sky. “That was close. We should probably get back inside before we’re fried like fish and chips.”

Y/N chuckled, shaking the water from her hair. “Yeah, I’d rather not be a human lightning rod today.”

He grinned, noticing the way she was shivering now, rain running down her face, her clothes clinging to her skin. He slipped his arm around her waist, pulling her close, his voice dropping to that familiar cheeky drawl. “Come on, then. I’ll warm you right up,” he teased, giving her a playful wink, his hand sliding lower on her back, pressing her against him. “Plenty of ways to heat things up, you know?”

Y/N rolled her eyes, but her smile was undeniable. “God help me, you’re cocky,” she muttered, but there was a spark in her eyes, a waggish glint that matched his own.

Jace’s grin widened. “Oh, you liked it,” he teased. “Don’t pretend otherwise. You loved every second of it. I’ve got more where that came from.”

She raised an eyebrow, clearly not willing to let him have the upper hand for long. “You mean the head you gave me?” she shot back, her voice dripping with mock innocence. “Yeah, I have to admit, that was… nice.”

Jace barked out a laugh, his eyes lighting up with delight. “Oh, nice, she says!” he repeated, leaning in closer, his lips brushing her ear as he whispered, “L/N, that was just a taste. I’m a man of many talents. Consider that your appetizer.”

Y/N snorted, swatting his chest. “Don’t get ahead of yourself, Velaryon. I’d hate for you to blow your entire repertoire too soon.”

He laughed. “Oh, don’t worry. I’ve got stamina to spare. We’ve got all night to explore… my menu.”

She blushed and couldn’t stop her breath from hitching. “Alright, alright, let’s get out of this rain before you start making more food innuendos. I’m getting hungry.”

He grinned, holding her tighter. “Deal. But once we’re dry, I’m taking you up on that second course.”

She just rolled her eyes again but leaned into him, letting him lead her back toward the safety of the building, their laughter mingling with the sound of the rain as they ran for cover.

[sxorpiomooon]

How will your fs family or ancestors react to you? A pac reading

Paid readings

$5 reading

Tip me

Check out my other readings!!

Pile 1-

This is HILARIOUS bc I see them stressing out so bad there will probably be issues in you guys getting married or together something about being unconventional I am suddenly reminded of nobody wants this the new netflix show? The story is basically of how a woman who runs her sex podcast gets together with a guys who's rabi. I see their ancestors panicking bc they will be like omL tHiS IS TERRIBLE THR WORST THING THAT COULD HAVE HAPPENED to .... Um wait..... It's actually not that bad? I see them panicking then finally catching their breath like oh.. oooohhh it's not that deep I heard "we're fine, we are fine" lmaao it's gonna be so hilarious. Do watch that show guys

Pile 2-

This is extremely rude and outrageous but they might feel as if their son has wasted his potential I heard "years of hard work going into the drain" there will be a lot of drama I also feel like this is possibly mainly the mother of your fs very dramatic and doing all that for no reason sort of lady. She will probably be causing issues and trying to bring you down every chance she gets. Instead of they i keep thinking of a she again and again it's def their mother. They will feel as if they have lost and will be extremely disappointed. Oml so much drama lord I can hear an old woman crying for no fucking reason. She might give alot of taunts such as "oh irs mt fault I raised you wrong this is my failure" blahblahblah I heard old hag LMAOO so yes, don't listen to that old hag my pile 2<3

Pile 3-

Finally a good pile🙏

I think they'll be quite stressed I got Italy for some reason I also think you'll be randomly revealed to them so it might take them as a surprise like huh? They might have not been aware of you before which will cause them stress. But later on I see them loving you so much especially the mother. I see the mother being the most stressed first and then ending up loving you the most. One of the parties might travel to meet the other? They will welcome you in their home very warmly. I see them treating you like their own never making you feel like an outsider lmao very close it's like they are your parents now too. "I'm coming home I'm coming home tell the world I'm coming home" i keep hearing this song again and again I'm also hearing stand by you by rachel platten. I'm even seeing wings for some reason haha. Something that I see is that they will also admire the love that you are your fs will share. Very beautiful family lord I'm seeing orange colour sunset too. Suddenly saw that super famous cute kid rustyn too.

Pile 4-

Hell naww, they will 100% try to persuade their son/daughter to leave your behind. I see them pulling dirty tricks😭 They might even manage to cause a rift between the two of you but I see y'all coming back together eventually again. I keep seeing someone travelling via boat in the water maybe they will quite literally try to separate you by sending them to some foreign lands but I do see both of you getting together again and them realising that they won't succeed. There might be this financial or class divide between the two of you which is why they'll do it. This reminds me of this webtoon that I was reading recently "the child that looks just like me" give it a read if you wish to.

Thankyou!!

[lvmoure]

But Daddy, I Love Him CS55

Summary: In the youngest child of King Charles II and late Princess Diana of Wales fell for an F1 driver, and is willing to do anything just to be with him.

Warnings: slight angst and rebellion.

You want nothing but to escape from the royal protocols that your family have set.

You are a lot of things: classy, smart, beautiful, elegant, and also, away from the eye of many, you are nothing but a rebel. Growing up in a dysfunctional family where your brothers seem perfect, life is nothing but complicated. It becomes even more complicated when your older brother, Harry, decides to live away from everyone with his wife, Meghan. You feel the weight of expectation in Buckingham Palace, where every action is scrutinized and every misstep could lead to scandal. You yearn for freedom, for a life beyond the gilded cage of royalty.

It’s a rainy Thursday afternoon, and the clouds outside your window reflect the turmoil inside. The dark sky looms over the palace like an ominous reminder of your frustrations. You sit on your bed, staring at the opulent walls adorned with portraits of ancestors, wondering if any of them ever felt trapped in their roles. Your heart pounds in your chest, a constant reminder of the fight brewing inside you.

“Why can’t you just act like a proper lady?” your father’s voice booms from the hallway, pulling you from your thoughts.

You can hear him pacing outside your door, his footsteps heavy and deliberate. “You’re a princess, for heaven’s sake! This isn’t a game!”

You stand up, your anger boiling over. You open the door, your resolve hardening as you face him. “This isn’t about being a princess, Dad! It’s about being myself!” Your voice trembles slightly, betraying the intensity of your emotions.

He turns to you, his expression a mix of exasperation and disappointment. “Being yourself is exactly what got you into trouble last time. You can’t just run off to… to some racing event with that Sainz boy! It’s unbecoming.”

“Unbecoming?” you scoff, crossing your arms defiantly. “What’s unbecoming is pretending to be someone I’m not. I’m tired of this charade. I want to live my life!”

He steps closer, towering over you, his voice dropping to a low, dangerous tone. “And what kind of life do you think you can have? You’re throwing away everything—your title, your future—for a whim. For a boy!”

“Carlos is not just a boy! He’s passionate, driven, and he understands me in a way you never will!” Your heart races, but you refuse to back down.

“Passionate? Driven? Those are just words to romanticize what he is—a reckless race car driver! You think this is some fairytale?” His voice rises, echoing in the grand hallway, and the walls seem to close in on you.

“Maybe I don’t want a fairytale, Dad! Maybe I want to create my own story!” You take a step back, your breath quickening, realizing how far the argument has escalated. The tears threaten to spill, but you blink them away, determined to stay strong.

He runs a hand through his hair, frustration etched on his face. “You are a princess! You have responsibilities, expectations! You can’t just abandon them!”

“Maybe I don’t want to be a princess anymore!” you shout, the words escaping before you can stop them. Silence hangs between you like a taut wire, both of you breathing heavily, the weight of unspoken words lingering in the air.

He studies you for a moment, disappointment flashing in his eyes. “If you leave, don’t expect to come back. This family doesn’t tolerate such behavior.”

Your heart sinks, the threat echoing in your mind, but the fire of rebellion burns brighter. “Maybe I’ll take my chances.” You turn on your heel and storm down the hall, the echo of your footsteps reverberating through the palace like a drumbeat of defiance.

As you grab a small bag, you throw in a few essentials—clothes, your phone, and a picture of Carlos you keep tucked away. The thought of leaving fills you with both fear and exhilaration. You pause at the door, your heart racing as you glance back at the life you’re about to abandon.

With one last deep breath, you step out into the rain-soaked streets of London, the cold air invigorating. Each step takes you further from the constraints of your title and closer to the life you’ve always dreamed of—one filled with passion and freedom.

Days pass, and you find yourself standing on the sun-kissed shores of Mallorca. The salty breeze tousles your hair as you sit on the warm sand, staring out at the turquoise waves crashing against the shore. You left everything behind: the palace, your family, the expectations. You made the choice to find solace in the sun, but it feels like a band-aid over a deeper wound.

Carlos, with his warm brown eyes and infectious smile, had always been a light in the dark. It was his idea to meet here, a promise he made to show you the world beyond royal duties. As you watch the horizon, you remember the first time you met him at a charity event, his passion for racing sparking something inside you that you never knew existed.

Suddenly, you hear his voice, and you turn to see him approaching. “There you are! I thought I’d lost you to the sea,” he teases, his smile lighting up his face.

You smile back, feeling the weight of your past lift slightly in his presence. “Just contemplating life and my terrible decisions,” you say, trying to sound light-hearted.

“Hey, every decision leads us somewhere, right? At least we’re here now.” He gestures to the beach, and you can’t help but feel a rush of warmth at his optimism.

“Yeah, here. Away from everything,” you reply, your voice trailing off as you recall the argument with your father.

Carlos sits beside you, his presence comforting. “Is everything okay? You seem… distant.”

You sigh, looking out at the waves. “It’s just hard to let go of everything. My family… they expect so much from me.”

“You don’t owe them anything. You’re allowed to be who you want to be.” His words are gentle, yet they cut through the chaos in your mind. You turn to him, your heart racing.

“But what if who I want to be isn’t what they want? What if I’m just throwing everything away for nothing?”

“Nothing? You’re not throwing anything away. You’re chasing what makes you happy. And if that’s me, then I’ll do everything to make it worth it.” His sincerity makes your heart flutter, and you feel the connection between you deepen.

As the sun sets, casting a golden glow over the island, you realize how much you longed for this kind of connection. “What if this is just a summer fling? What if you go back to racing and forget all about me?” The fear creeps in, but you push it down, not wanting to ruin the moment.

Carlos takes your hand, his grip firm yet gentle. “Then I’ll race back to you. No matter what, I won’t forget you. You’re not just some fling to me.” His eyes hold a promise, and for the first time, you feel hopeful.

That week, you explore the island together—dancing under the stars, sharing stories, and laughing until your sides hurt. Each moment feels like a stolen treasure, a world away from the palace. But as the days pass, the looming thought of returning home creeps into your mind, a shadow over your newfound happiness.

The week has come to an end, and you find yourself at a quaint café overlooking the Mediterranean. The sun rises slowly, casting a warm light that contrasts with the storm brewing in your heart. Carlos sits across from you, sipping his coffee, a content smile gracing his lips. You want to capture this moment forever, to freeze time in this perfect bubble.

But the bubble is about to burst. Your phone buzzes, a message from your father breaking the serene atmosphere. You read it, and your stomach drops. “Come home. It’s time to face your responsibilities.”

You set the phone down, feeling the weight of the message like a boulder on your chest. “I can’t go back,” you whisper, panic rising.

Carlos looks concerned. “What’s wrong?”

“It’s my father. He’s demanding I come back to the palace. I can’t bear to face him after everything.”

“Don’t you want to talk to him? Maybe he’s just worried.” He reaches out, but you pull away, the thought of facing your family unbearable.

“Worried? Or controlling? He’ll never understand. I feel like I’m suffocating in that place.” Tears brim in your eyes as the emotions flood over you.

“Then let’s not go back,” Carlos says fiercely. “We can stay here. We can make a life together away from all that.”

You shake your head, feeling the weight of reality. “I can’t run forever, Carlos. My father will always find me.” You realize with a sinking heart that this paradise can’t last forever.

The conversation grows heated, both of you struggling to find a solution. “You have to fight for what you want,” he pleads, desperation creeping into his voice. “Don’t give up on us.”

“It’s not that simple! My family… they have expectations. I can’t just turn my back on them.” The thought of your father’s disappointment stabs at your heart, but the idea of losing Carlos cuts deeper.

“Then you need to stand up for yourself. Tell him how you feel.”

You pause, considering his words. “What if he doesn’t care? What if he just wants to control me?”

Carlos reaches for your hand, holding it tightly. “You

won’t know until you try. You deserve to be happy, and I want to help you fight for that happiness.” His eyes are fierce with determination, and you feel a spark of hope igniting within you.

But the reality of your situation weighs heavily on your heart. “I don’t know if I can go back and face him,” you admit, tears spilling down your cheeks.

“Then we’ll face it together. I’ll be right by your side.” His warmth envelops you, and for a moment, you believe him.

But then reality crashes in. You know what you must do. “I have to go back, Carlos,” you say softly, pulling your hand away. “I can’t abandon my family, no matter how hard it is.”

The decision hangs in the air, and you can see the hurt in Carlos’s eyes. “I understand. But it doesn’t mean it’s easy.” His voice trembles slightly, the pain evident.

“I wish things were different,” you murmur, your heart breaking as you stand up, ready to leave the paradise you’ve found.

As you walk away, every step feels heavier, and you can’t shake the feeling of loss that grips you. Carlos’s figure fades into the background as you board the plane back to London, leaving behind a piece of your heart in Mallorca.

Back in Buckingham Palace, the weight of reality crashes down like a heavy fog. You wear a smile for the cameras and the public, but inside, you feel like a ghost drifting through the hallways. The opulence feels suffocating, and every laugh shared with your family feels hollow. They celebrate your return, oblivious to the turmoil raging inside you.

Each day, the longing for Carlos grows, filling the empty spaces where happiness used to reside. You replay every moment from your week in Mallorca, from the gentle caress of the ocean breeze to the warmth of his hand in yours. The memories haunt you, and the loneliness settles in your heart like a cold stone.

One evening, you find yourself wandering the gardens, the moonlight casting a soft glow over the flowers. The beauty of the night contrasts sharply with your inner turmoil. You stop by the fountain, the sound of water soothing yet haunting.

Your father’s voice echoes in your mind, reminding you of the responsibilities you’ve shunned. You should be grateful for everything, yet all you feel is regret. “Why can’t you just be what we want you to be?” he had said, and the words sting like a whip.

You sink to the ground, tears spilling as you realize the truth—you cannot live a life dictated by others. You want to fight for your love, to reclaim the happiness you’ve tasted with Carlos.

“I can’t keep living this way,” you whisper to the night, your heart racing with determination. “I won’t lose him.”

The decision crystallizes in your mind: you will leave again, this time for good. You’ll fight for the life you want, for the love you’ve found. The fear that had held you back shatters, replaced by an unyielding resolve.

As dawn breaks, you pack a small bag once more, your heart pounding with the thrill of rebellion. You leave a note for your family, knowing they may never understand, but this time, you don’t care. You are doing this for yourself.

The flight to Mallorca feels like an eternity, your heart racing with anticipation. You step off the plane, the warm breeze washing over you, carrying the scent of the sea and memories of laughter. The familiar landscape unfolds before you, each corner reminding you of the moments you cherished with Carlos.

You find him at the same café, his laughter echoing through the air as he chats with a group of friends. When he sees you, his face lights up with a mixture of surprise and joy, and in that moment, everything else fades away.

“Is that really you?” he asks, disbelief evident in his voice. “I thought I lost you for good.” You run to him, throwing your arms around him, the warmth of his embrace grounding you. “I came back. I had to fight for us,” you breathe, tears of relief streaming down your cheeks. Carlos pulls back, searching your eyes for the truth. “You mean it? You really want this?”

“Yes! I want you, Carlos. I want this life, the one I choose for myself. No more hiding, no more running.” You take a deep breath, the weight of the world lifting off your shoulders.

“I’ve missed you,” he murmurs, cupping your face in his hands. “I was worried you’d change your mind.”

“Never. I’ve spent too long trying to be someone I’m not. I want to embrace who I am, and that includes you.” You lean in, and he captures your lips with his, a kiss that seals the promise of a future together.

For the next few days, you immerse yourself in the vibrant life of Mallorca, exploring the island hand in hand. You learn more about racing, his passion igniting something within you. You share your dreams and fears, building a bond stronger than ever.

But then, the day comes when Carlos must leave for a race. As you stand on the balcony, watching him pack, a wave of sadness washes over you. “You’ll come back, right?” you ask, the uncertainty creeping in.

“Of course! I’ll always come back to you,” he promises, wrapping you in his arms. “Just remember, you’re the reason I push harder on the track. You give me strength.” As he leaves, you feel a mix of pride and longing. You have finally found your voice, your path, and love. But you know that this journey has only just begun.

Months pass, and you find yourself at peace with your choices. You’ve forged a life away from the palace, pursuing your passions alongside Carlos. The connection you share deepens, built on trust and understanding.

Finally, the day comes when you stand before your father again, ready to confront the past. You’ve made your decision; you want to forgive him and seek a relationship based on honesty.

“Dad, I want to talk,” you say, your voice steady as you approach him in the gardens. He looks up, surprise etched on his face. “You’re back from your… adventures.”

“I want to understand. I want us to move forward, but I need you to understand me too.” The words come rushing out, a torrent of emotions spilling over.

Your father’s expression softens, and for the first time, you see the regret in his eyes. “I didn’t mean to push you away. I just wanted to protect you.”

“I know. But I need you to let me be myself,” you reply, your heart open. “I want to find my own path, and I want you to support that.”

As the conversation unfolds, you both find common ground. There’s healing in vulnerability, and slowly, you rebuild the bridge between you.

A few months later, you stand in a sun-drenched chapel surrounded by friends and family, your heart pounding with excitement. Carlos stands at the altar, his eyes full of love and determination.

As you walk down the aisle, your father by your side, you feel a sense of peace. You’ve embraced your past, and you’re ready to step into the future. You take Carlos’s hand, and in that moment, you know you’ve chosen the right path.

The vows you exchange are a promise not just to each other but to yourself: to love fiercely, to fight for your happiness, and to always remain true to who you are.

As you seal your vows with a kiss, the future stretches before you—unpredictable, thrilling, and entirely yours.

[sweetadonisbutbetter]

Good day to you, I adore your stories and it would be interesting to read fan fiction about the Hotel Hazbin Adam×Reader | woman| as Adam's third wife who is pregnant with his child, what will be his actions before birth and after, if it seems strange to you, then you can not write or not respond to my request, I will not be offended💗) Have a nice day/evening Sorry for my bad English, I'm Spanish;^

RAHHH THANK UOU SMM ☹️☹️ it’s not strange to me i would love to write this 😁😁 also yr english is perfect!!! i will write this as if they were in heaven, so it’s a little more shocking, and it will be a mix of a fic and headcanons

New Life, even after Death | Adam x AFAB!Pregnant!Reader

Relationship: Romantic Warnings: MENTIONS OF (PAST) ABUSE!! it is a brief mention and doesn't carry much weight but it is there regardless. Mentions of pregancy and birth, light NSFW, Adam being Adam

You needed to check if your eyes were seeing things correctly, or if you needed glasses. After all, there wasn’t any way that you were seeing two lines. You stared at it for a moment, unsure of what to do. After a moment, you snapped out of it before hurriedly grabbing the other test that sat on the counter and using it.

Now you had 7 tests in front of you, all with two pink lines on the little screen. You were holding the last one, waiting with anticipation to see what it would say. However, you knew what it was going to say, the previous ones had the same response. You had to face the reality that you were pregnant.

You are pregnant.

You were wracking your brain as to how this could be possible. You were in the afterlife, there was no way you could be pregnant. Not that you weren't overjoyed, you were elated. In life, you had trouble conceiving, much to your disappointment. It seemed that your husband at the time was also disappointed, killing you after your nth attempt and nothing to show for it. In your final moment, you couldn't help but feel a bit relieved, thankful that you had never had children with that man, in fear that he would do the same to them. After passing with no biological children of your own, you had grown to accept that you wouldn't ever have any.

When you first entered heaven, you were uneasy with how many children's souls there were. However, with time, you grew to enjoy the company of them. Playing with them while on your way to places or when you had the time, before either you had to leave or they were called out too. It warmed your heart and helped heal that small part of you that mourned never having kids. It helped you strive to be better and to experience the joys of being a mother. It was also how you had met your current husband, Adam.

You have no idea how it happened; one moment one of the children was introducing you to the first man, next thing you know, you were walking down the aisle with him standing at the end. You weren't one to complain, he was so sweet and patient with you. He was the first one you told your past to, from your childhood to your trouble conceiving, to even your terrible first husband. He held you tight as you cried and recounted the last half of your life. In turn, he told you of his life on earth. His life was like being married twice, and raising his kids and ancestors. His favorite pastime was watching humanity, the small acts of kindness from one person to another.

Of course, he had his faults, he was human. He would mock and laugh when people did stupid things. When someone he saw as not worth his time, he was known to wave them off without much thought. He would get angry over the smallest of things, and throw small tantrums when he didn't go away. Ever clingy when there was another male, in fear of losing you much like he did both of Lilith and Eve. You could list all his faults and flaws, yes, however, you could also list his virtues. 

All in all, you loved your husband and knew that he loved you in return. It seemed that now, you both would have something to love just as much. You dragged yourself out of your thoughts as you looked down at the test, seeing that it had the results.

You stood in the bathroom that you shared with Adam, holding the final pregnancy test as it showed the same results; the same two pink lines that repeated over each test. Overwhelmed at the prospect of having a child now,  you fell to your knees as tears began to build up in your eyes. You were going to have a baby.

A baby. 

The thought became overwhelming and you sank into a full-on sob. There you were on your shared bathroom floor, crying like a baby as your wings were wrapped around you, doing your best to soothe yourself. Clutching the pregnancy test to your chest, you hunched over so that your stomach was touching your knees. You were so happy, so sad, so confused at the whole thing that once you finished crying, you just sat there for a while, staring at the wall. You were so out of it that you didn’t hear the knocking at the door or someone walking in. 

“Hey sorry to barge in but Adam is looking for yo-oh.” A voice snapped you out. You turn to the voice and see Lute, still fresh in her exterminator outfit. Once she gets a good look at your face, she tenses for a moment, before dropping her weapon and rushing to your side. “Hey- is..is everything alright? What happened?”

Unable to say anything, you pull the test away from your chest, showing Lute. She took a moment, looking at you weirdly before taking it. After a while, her eyes widened as she turned to you.

“How?” She questioned, to which you could only sob-laugh in response. She didn’t say anything, just looking at the test that was still in her hands. You both sat there on the floor for a while, before another voice rang out in the house. 

“Hey, sugar tits. I’m home.” Shuffling came from the front of the house as you and Lute shot up, looking at one another. Both of you scramble to your feet and leave the bathroom, grabbing all the numerous tests and taking the one from Lute. “Damn. Where the fuck is she? She normally runs to greet me.”

Lute picks up her weapon and leaves the bathroom first. She hesitates for a moment, looking back at you with a twinge of concern, to which you nod, assuring her to go ahead. 

“Go ahead. I just…need to gather my bearings first.” She nods and leaves. As she leaves, you hear Adam begin to question her. Now alone in the bathroom once more for a few moments, you do your best to make it look like you weren’t sobbing your eyes out and figure out how to tell him.

You can’t help but think of his reaction. Would he be happy? Upset? You couldn’t fathom the idea of him getting upset, recounting his stories of when he took care of his firstborn. The fondness that was not only in his tone but also in his face showed that he did enjoy being a father. However, it had been over a millennia since he took care of a baby. Would he even want kids? You shake the thought and take in a deep, albeit shaky, breath. Leaving the bathroom and going to the front of your home, there you saw Adam. He stood by the front door, his mask removed and looking entirely bored of the conversation he was currently having with Lute. His eyes lazily move across the room before they land on you, he seemingly brightens before ignoring Lute and running to you. He grabs you by your side, spinning you before pulling you into a kiss. 

Startled by his reaction at first, it took you a moment before you returned the kiss. Placing one arm is thrown over his shoulder while the other flies to his hair, gripping it.  You make sure to keep the test firm in your grasp and not drop any. Feeling him smirk into the kiss, he begins to nip at your lip, attempting to deepen the kiss. You hear Lute clear her throat, stopping both you and Adam from furthering the kiss. Adam smacks his teeth in annoyance, looking at Lute.

“What? Can’t you see I am greeting my beautiful wife?” He says, squeezing you a little closer to him. Lute rolls her eyes before looking at you at the hand that had 7 tests back to you. You don’t say anything but instead smile softly at her, assuring her she can leave.  She nods to you, taking her leave. With Lute gone, Adam smirks, before looking at you and snuggling his face into your neck. Giggling at the feeling of his stubble tickling your cheek, you pull him away by his hair. He grunts softly, the tug not too painful for him. You spend a moment looking at him, smiling at the look of your husband as you swear he has hearts in his eyes. You opened your mouth with the intent to greet him, however it seemed that your voice didn’t agree with what you wanted. 

“I’m pregnant.” 

Once again, it takes a moment before Adam responded.

“What?”

─── ⋆⋅☼⋅⋆ ───

He passes out lol

He was not expecting that information after coming back from an extermination

Once he wakes up, you hand him the various tests, all showing that you are indeed pregnant

Very confused as to how you are pregnant like you both are dead? nothing should be working as it would

You both go to the seraphim and ask if they know what is going on

They don't lol

If anything, they are the MOST confused as to how this is happening

After the initial confusion, Adam is overjoyed to be a father again!

Literally tells everyone he talks to in any manner

"HEY FUCKFACE I GOT MY WIFE PREGNANT!" "Adam. That's the mailman." "HE NEEDS TO KNOW-" "Sweetie, no-"

In other words, word spreads fast.

Before you know it, all of heaven is literally congratulating you when you step out of your house

A lot of glaring at Adam, who just smiles and acts all innocent

Now that he knows, say bye-bye to independence.

Of course, he will give you space when you need it, but if you don't say anything he is most definitely hovering over you.

In your first trimester, he isn't as clingy, actually the most laid back throughout the entirety of your pregnancy.

Second and Third are his worst phases, never leaving your side at ALL- literally walked into the women's restroom after you (you promptly kicked him out, stating you just needed to piss)

When you start to show, he coos at your stomach, touches it, and sings rock songs to it.

Also will get you clothing that pronounces your pregnant belly

sure he would get you loose, more comfortable clothing too, but literally is so obsessed with your belly 

Compliments you all the time, rubs you from head to toe when you ask

Coaxes and reassures you that he loves you, even as your body changes 

Speaking of body changing: boobs

He will grow more obsessed with your boobs as they grow bigger from the milk

Will ask you numerous times throughout and post-pregnancy if he can drink from them 

Kinda won’t stop until you cave, he just wants to try it so bad. The last time he dealt with a pregnant woman, was Eve and at that time he didn’t even know it was an OPTION. so seriously heaven-bent on trying it

His other kids, the ones he had with Eve, are elated to have a new half-sibling. 

Because of this, when you throw a parent shower (You and Adam elected to be surprised for the gender), you gain a ton of stuff. Somehow got 3 strollers, a huge chunk of clothing for about the first 1.5 years of the baby's life, and a lot of toys. 

The seraphims even went and gave you a personal gift for you and you alone.

Even with all the preparation, when your water broke, Adam was NOT prepared in the slightest.

Panicked and forgot all the important stuff while you were hunched over, holding your tummy as you waited to be fully dilated. 

You had a private room to yourself to give birth, Adam by your side the whole time, a worried look on his face. He remembered when Eve gave birth, the pain and fear on her face mirrored that of yours.

However, in the end, everything was alright.

After squeezing the life out of Adam’s hand, most likely cutting off all circulation in it, you gave birth to a little girl.

Adam was beyond elated, loving his little girl so much even though she was covered in vernix, blood, and mucus.

Having mainly sons, anytime his daughters just existed in front of him, he couldn’t help but be elated at their existence. 

Couldn’t wait to hold his daughter and feel her tiny hand wrapped around his finger

Not that he wasn’t checking up on you the whole time, he was.

When the doctor and nurses who helped deliver his daughter whisked her away to clean her, his attention was solely on you

Murmuring against your skin, telling you how great you did, how lovely of a job you did, and overall praising you and making sure you were okay.

─── ⋆⋅☼⋅⋆ ───

“She’s okay?” You say, panting and entirely exhausted. He nodded and kissed your forehead. 

“She is perfectly fine. What about you mamas? How are you?” He asked, wiping the hair that clung to your sweaty forehead. You could only nod as you tried to catch your breath. He smiles, relieved that you are okay.

You both stay there for a while while waiting for the doctor to come back. While waiting, you can’t help but think of how surreal this all was. You were finally having your baby, after your whole living life of wanting one, praying, and getting nothing in return. But now? You were watching the door for the doctor or nurse to walk in at any moment with your little girl, as your husband held your hand and stroked your hair. 

Eventually, a nurse entered the room, with a small bundle of pink and purple. Adam stayed by your side as the nurse made his way to your side, handing your baby to you.

“She is perfectly healthy. Just wanting mom at the moment.” He says before leaving you, your daughter, and Adam. Holding her in your arms was a type of bliss you couldn’t help but tear up over. Here she was, your joy, the love of your life, your world, planet, and stars. Tears slip out as you kiss her forehead, the feeling of her wispy hair tickling your lips.

“She looks like you.” Adam softly says after a moment. You look at him and see he has the look of utter softness and love on his face. You smile in return, tears still running down your cheek.

“What? She just came out? I don’t think she looks like anyone just yet.” You say as Adam presses his hand against your cheek, wiping away some of your tears with his thumb. 

“I know. But if she is anything like you, I just know she is going to light up the whole afterlife.” 

You sob a little more, putting your hand over his and close your eyes. 

“How did I get so lucky?”

“I think I am the one that got lucky,” Adam says, causing you to open your eyes. He leans in to peck you on the lips, you lean in turn. After the kiss, you rest your foreheads against one another, relishing in the bliss of the moment. “I love you.”

“I love you too.”

RAHH AND THATS IT!!! I HOPE U ENJOYED IT ANON AND ANYONE WHO READ THIS FAR-

i went into this not an adam lover, and i came out one as his no. 1 fan. i love writing characters i wouldn't normally. lets me think about them more than i normally do LOLL I wanted it end it off on the sweet note, so if there is more that was wanted i apologize but regardless, i loved loved lovedd writing this super soft and fluffy

i just checked my word count how is this almost 3k words what the hell

[ventique18]

🐉 x 🌸♀️

🌸: "This is the worst day this week. My appetite's completely fucked up."

🐉: "You even threw up your breakfast earlier. Do try to eat even an oatmeal with fruit bits."

🌸: "I don't know... I feel completely lethargic and lowkey irritable. I don't have the energy to eat. Just sitting up makes me nauseous... I just want to sleep."

🐉: "A sudden change in appetite, nausea, mood swings, tiredness... I feel like I've seen these symptoms before..."

🐉, gasping at the realization: "Could it be..!"

🌸: "Don't worry, it's just my period."

🐉: "... You're currently bleeding?"

🌸: "Yeah, so you can sleep comfortably this time too, haha."

🐉: "..."

He closes his eyes, inhales, and breathes out a heavy, audible, obviously despondent sigh.

🌸: "Why... why do you look so upset. Shouldn't you be relieved."

Another long sigh.

🐉: "My ancestors must be disappointed in me. I failed this time, yet again."

🌸: "Why."

🌸, for a moment, forgot that he's not like the other guys.

[electricsoul-rpg]

Netflix's 3 Body Problem

I tried watching Netflix’s American adaptation of Three Body problem. I watched five episodes and boy, is it painful.

(Full disclaimer: I really liked the Chinese adaptation by Tencent, I read the book after I watched the drama, and I am a European of Chinese descent, so I am definitely biased.)

The general whitewashing and westernization of the story is already pretty bad. Why take a Chinese story if you’re going to make it so blandly American?

Everyone is horny and thinks about sex, relationships based on ideals are reduced to attraction and sex. Everyone is so vulgar and crass. IQ seems very low.

Ye Wenjie. What did they do to Ye Wenjie. She’s a brainless horny fanatic woman now. And Shen Yufei is replaced by a generic unhinged lady. All the scientists seem supremely dumb.

White characters explain or emphasize things in Chinese, for Chinese people, when their Mandarin is bad. Not gibberish bad, but still pretty bad. Please just use English, your white actors clearly can’t speak Chinese. Your Chinese characters can understand and speak English. Don’t hurt our ears like this. It might be cool and exotic for the average Western audience who doesn't understand Mandarin but it’s cringe and painful for us.

A small thing but since I lost my father a few months ago, it struck me pretty hard. What was that altar in Clarence Shi’s house? Just two big pricey candles and one stick of incense? This is so cold and lifeless. Where is the FOOD??? The drinks??? The flowers/plants??? You're calling your wife and you're leaving her starving and depressed!

(For info, a normal small home ancestor altar should look more like this. As you can see : FOOD. Take care of your ancestors!)

The cast and setting is supposed to make this adaptation more "international"...but two British dudes decide everything when, in the novel and the Chinese adaptation, it is truly an international decision and an example of global cooperation. Five Oxford alumni of different skin color does not make this more international!

And so so so so many more things that are wrong. I feel like there is not a single Chinese brain cell in this.

All in all, I did not expect anything good, but I am still disappointed. It is so bland. No build-up. No mystery. No menace. No ambiance. Nothing. Everything is said straight to your face. They must think the audience is stupid, I guess.

Watch the Chinese adaptation

Did you like the ideas behind the Three Body Problem, either the book or the Netflix series? Are you ok with reading subtitles and watching something not in your language? Are you ok with seeing something set in another culture, with another culture's codes, not simplified and westernized for your sake? Are you ok with not being able to binge-watch it in one weekend? Are you ok with more complex characters, a slower-paced plot? Then try the Chinese adaptation. It's on Youtube and Viki, with subtitles. Legal and free.

[psychelis-new]

pick a pile: "I love you because..."

take a breath and choose the photo or number that calls you the most to read a love confession for you. it could be a friend, a colleague, someone you help/ed, a family member, your guides or ancestors, your higher self or your present/future partner/spouse. meditate to put yourself in a receiving mode and go check your one, dear soul. enjoy your Valentine's day: whether you feel lonely or not, whether you are in a relationship or not, know that you are deeply loved.

if you rather get a message from your present/future partner/spouse, check my instagram @/psychelis.new

don’t take the reading too seriously. only take what resonates with you and leave the rest. if you're not called by any pile, let this reading slid as it may not hold messages for you. if you're called by more than one pile, there may be messages in each of those piles. remember that is a general reading and some things may not resonate with you. energies can change and readings are based on present ones (as you read); you're always in charge of your life.

(photos found on unsplash)

- ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ -

1 2 3 4

- ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ -

pile 1

I love you of a quiet pure respectful love, because you're strong and brave and you taught me that struggles can be overcome and new goals can always be reached. You taught me a lot also about love and friendship: maybe you don't know, but I have been going through a very tough situation and finding you/having you near, listening to you, helped me so much. You were (and are) like a dream come true to me. You made me stronger, inspired me and helped me move on with a lot of confidence and hopefulness more, and I'll always be thankful to you for this. I am not sure you know about this, about my feelings, I always look at you from a distance and freeze in awe in front of your kindness and beautiful smile. I would like to approach you and thank you personally but I am not sure you would accept it from me. I am still afraid to be abandoned or to disappoint you but I am sure one day I will be able to change this also thanks to you. One day I will be bold enough and thank you properly. I am working to get ready for that day and have no more fear.

[more symbols/signs: fairytales, children, The Little Prince (the dialogue with the fox in particular), fox, star, comets; could be friend, sb in your same school/job place crushing on you, ex, -online- admirer, childhood friend/crush; I'm getting lot of school-related/young energy, could even be a student if you're a teacher or sth; it seems someone who isn't used to kindness and gentleness/support and bc of this you made them addicted to this side of yours]

song: fetish | selena gomez, gucci mane

- ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ -

pile 2

I love you because you guide me and give me peace. Your voice is like a tender sound calming my nerves, your words are warm and embracing me anytime I need love. You came up unexpectedly and brought the wind of change with you, a warm tender soft one that caresses me and plays with my hair making me smile of a peaceful smile. Something I could hardly experience before. I love you because you help me feel better and change/grow for the better. You've helped me cleansing from my toxic past and you made me see things from a different perspective. Like in a snap of fingers, everything went from chaos to calm, in my mind and in my heart. You always know what to say to bring me back on my feet, to balance me, and you guide me in every move I take. I am thankful for having you by my side, my true anchor and gentle loving sister soul. Never cease to speak to me, I love listening to your ideas and words, you always sing the most beautiful song in my ears, just for me to listen to.

[more symbols/signs: water, emotions, rain/rainy day, wind, sound, dreamcatcher, weather vane, bells, air signs; possible strong mental/5d connection; could be a soulmate (romantic or platonic), also a colleague or family member/ancestor or your partner's higher self]

song: every breath you take | denmark + winter

- ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ -

pile 3

I love you because amidst all of the chaos, there you were and still are. I love you cause you always wear a smile and try to keep your joy with you, and share it around. I love you cause of your sweet tender habit to dance and turn around everytime you're happy. I love you for all the beauty you bring with you, even if you cannot see it. I love your regal side and your cute side. I love all the different people you are, especially your curios self, never ceasing to learn more of what's around you (please keep yourself safe). I love how you can lose yourself daydreaming about love and what's next for you, but also how you are so easy to distract... Maybe you should focus more, yes, but who cares? I like to distract you too cause when you notice you always get so pouty and offended with me and that's so very cute. Please try to let go of the past, trust yourself. I know you hurt still, but better things will come and you know it too. Don't let the anxiety/worries take over you, stay confident and trust that all will be great. I will also help you make it so.

[more signs/symbols: crowds, -long time- friend/s, studying together, raincoat, jeans, flirting; feels a classmate or friend -maybe a group of friends-, possibly someone crushing on you; young energy but especially from you here so the person/people could be "older" for some of you]

song: golden hour | jvke

- ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ - ’ -

pile 4

I love you because that's what I was born for. I love you cause that's my duty, to care for you and protect you. But I also love you because you resemble me: you're determined, confident and you work for your dreams. You don't let anything or anyone bring you down and even if you don't feel this way now, I know you have it inside of you. You just need to believe again in all that you really are, you just need to remember who you really are. Let me in, let me help you remember it all. Let me help you give you your power back. We can have it all again, together. Don't let the demons you have learned to live with, govern you: you're the one in charge of putting them back to their place. You're the one able to give yourself all that you want, love included. Take care of you, give yourself breaks and get ready: a lot is in store for us. I'm sorry you have/had to wait so much. Please forgive me.

[more symbols/signs: vinyl, music, nostalgia, dancing, gala, Europe, dresses, castle, deep heart connection; possible past life connection (around 1700-1800 centuries; kingdoms); power couple; possible ex/situationship that now is on hold or future partner/spouse, guides/ancestors/departed pet or higher self; in all honesty the first message I got is the last line I wrote. Much more than the reasons they love you for, they wanted you to know how much they long for you now]

song: in the name of love | bebe rexha, martin garrix

[mamayan]

★Good Boy☆

Sub! Genya Shinazugawa x Soft Dom! Reader

cw: Soft Dom! Reader • Fem! Reader Coded • Sub! Genya • Fluff • Mild Angst • Hand Job (M) • Mild Teasing • Mild Overstimulation • Praise • Fingering (M) • Oral (M)

wc: 3k+

A/N: He is an angel, no one can convince me otherwise—

“Can I…?” You turned to see your sweet lover standing in the entrance of the shoji, handsome as always but wearing an unusual nervous expression.

You cock a brow expectantly, smile curving your lips. “Can you what, Genya?” There’s a teasing lilt to your tone which makes him purse his lips, pale skin beginning to flush red.

“T-Tanjiro was the one to bring it up, okay? I-I wasn’t listening to anything weird, alright?” His immediately defensive words before he’d even asked permission was a telling sign for you as interest sparked in your eyes. That made him even more nervous, but the sight of you sitting and being so patient made it even more difficult for him not to ask.

“Alright Genya, I understand. Now go ahead and tell me.” You weren’t asking, but your tone hadn’t changed. It didn’t matter though, as Genya immediately spit it out at your command.

“C-Can I lay my head on your l-lap?!” He’d all but screamed it. Panting as if it’d taken an incredible amount of effort to speak the sentence, the demon slayer with physical abilities that few could contend with appeared all but starved for oxygen. Those wide dark amethyst eyes are bloodshot and a little teary at the edges as he stared fervently at you.

“Yes?” You’d expected something different. Less innocent at least.

His face lights up though, and it makes any disappointment dissolve in the face of such a gorgeous display of happiness. His sweet smile and flushed cheeks make you coo, shifting yourself to sit in a more formal position as he scurries and secures a spot on your thighs with his head.

He lays himself almost stiffly on your lap, his large body frozen as if you’d change your mind if he were to move too much. You chuckle in amusement, his eyes flicking up to where you leaned over him. “Relax sweet boy, close your eyes.” He was too cute to deny right now, especially as he obeys with almost too much enthusiasm and tightly shuts his eyes with more concentration than necessary. You help him out, smoothing your hand lightly over his face, trailing down his cheeks and jaw with a feather light touch. He’s stuck between feeling like wanting to claw out of his own skin and melting in it. Your soft touch leaves him vulnerable, but as does the position which situates you over him, almost like he’s being protected. Genya ponders the last time he’s felt safe like this, but thoughts of his family and Sanemi hurt his chest too much to dwell long on, so he enjoys the fluffy feeling beginning to consume him and his mind.

“How was your day, my love?” He hates how much he adores your sweet names for him. As if each one is a balm to soothe his frayed nerves for each time he’s been hurt or insulted. He’s unable to deny a single request or command from you, nor does he particularly want to either. “I trained with Tanjiro, the dumb guy. He keeps getting stronger, while I’m just…” he grits his teeth, words not coming as easily as he tries to formulate the correct words which would describe his own inferiority to Tanjiro—

“Just what?” You goad.

“While I’m just me,” he doesn’t look at you anymore, eyes focused on the other end of the room as if his greatest enemy stands like a ghost in the corner. “I’m just me, I don’t have any cool ancestors or fancy breathing styles, I ain’t like ‘Nemi—,” you gently tilt his face back up towards you, eyes so warm he stutters on his words and stops entirely. How could you look at him like that? When he’s like this?

“You don’t need to be like him though, do you? You’re perfect just the way you are, sweet boy. Have I not shown you already? Your effort, your strength, your perseverance… they’re all yours, right?” His breathing nearly halts, so focused on your words he feels himself going light headed, “Focus on what you can do and focus on coming back to me. Isn’t that enough?” A single tear slides down his cheek, gaze blurry with the ones unshed as his chest fills with adoration and admiration for you.

“Don’t cry ‘Nya, I haven’t even done anything yet,” your teasing words make him flush deeper, the innuendo not lost on him despite his embarrassment.

“I-I ain’t cryin’!” He flinches as you inflict a small pinch to his cheek, “Sorry…” he apologizes quickly for yelling.

“Why are you embarrassed? Don’t you like when I play with you?” He wants to melt into the floor, but he’s trapped by the soft pillow of your thighs beneath his head and neck. Of course he liked it, he loved it even, but admitting it aloud was the most difficult for him. His silent trembling and watery gaze weren’t convincing enough apparently. Your hand leaves his soft tresses, smoothing down his neck and onto his chest where he tenses under the delicate pressure.

“That’s too bad ‘Nya, I really want to play with you now but… since you don’t like it, I won’t force you.” He nearly jolts up, but halts in fear of damaging your hand in his carelessness, instead panicking.

“N-no! I like it! I really, really like it,” his honest declarations are the easiest to achieve when he’s not given time to think of some crass response or lie, “Y-you always make me feel, well, good, really good,” he looks ready to burst, his cute expression almost too much for you as you withhold your laughter.

“Oh…? What do you like best then, sweet boy?” You knew he was close to his verbal limit, but to not push him until he couldn’t take anymore would be a waste since he so sweetly offered himself up like this.

Genya choked as your hand drifted lower, unable to control his body even with deep breathing as his pants began to feel tighter.

“I like… when you touch me, like this,” it feels like his throat is closing up. Your sweet hum of affirmation and your hand drifting lower was incentive enough to keep going. “When you—fuck,” his eyes nearly roll back just from you teasing the edges of his belt line.

“Finish your sentence, or we can stop here.”

“Wh-when you touch my cock—,” he looks like a boiled octopus, so red and flustered as he twitches helplessly beneath your hand. His eyes meet your own, as if asking if that was the right answer to get what he wants, no, needs from you.

He feels almost betrayed when you only lightly skim his stiff cock with the tips of your fingers, smile still in place as he gasps and jerks despite the minimal stimulation.

“I’m touching it, baby. Just how you like,” he wished you’d end the teasing, weak to your voice and touch as he grows closer to his breaking point.

“M-more please, like you usually do—,” his tone is getting whinier and more desperate.

“How do I usually do it…?” You drag one finger just up to the tip, chuckling as his hips hump uselessly up for even a tiny bit more friction. You deny him of course, playing dumb while dragging your finger around the opening where pre-cum was already pearling up.

He huffs, a light moan being drawn when you press down on his opening. “Y-you grip it, fuck, my cock—please, I-I need you,” there it was, your smile widens as tears spill freely, his eyes finally losing their defiance and cocky attitude in favor of showing you the sweet softness he holds beneath the surface just for you.

“There’s my sweet boy, I was wondering where’d you been~” you coo and give in finally, curling your fingers around his poor leaking cock and tightening until his breath became lodged in his throat and his body stiffened. “My sweet boy always tells me what he wants, doesn’t he?” You give no warning, only jerking him harshly and quickly, loving the way his eyes flash with pleasure and trepidation. Genya can’t speak anymore, only choked gasps and moans escaping as you drive him towards a quick and viscious end, back arching up, head pressing deeper into your thighs. “Wa—ngh—c-cum—please, I—!” Drool slides down the corner of his mouth as he brokenly begs for permission.

“Of course you can cum, sweet boy. Make a mess for me, ‘Nya” and he does, the vigorous stimulation right after being teased has him tumbling down the cliff’s edge as he shoots ropes of thick hot cum all over your hand inside his pants.

“Ah—!” He always cums with such emotion you can help but lean deeper and swallow his cries, tongue easily invading his mouth and tasting the sweets he likely shared with Tanjiro earlier.

He jerks as you continue your fast and unending pace, hand able to work him easier now that his cum has lubed himself up.

“S’too much—!” He can only cry against your lips, clearly becoming overwhelmed and overstimulated but you merely hush him with another kiss as he’s forced to cum again, though much less coming out but not at the cost of pleasure as his mind goes completely blank as pain bleeds into the orgasm.

When you pull away, he’s left as a true mess on your lap, dazed expression languid and body completely pliant now.

As a slayer, he’s quick to recover, eyes lazily tracking your hand coming out of his pants, sticky with his release as you bring it to your lips and make a show of licking it up.

When his cock jumps to life again under the lewd display, you happily share in the experience and press two fingers against his lips.

He doesn’t even think as he parts them, your fingers pressing in and forcing his own release inside his mouth. He cleans your fingers eagerly, less shy now and with vigor.

“Good boy, ‘Nya, clean them good, okay? Get them nice and wet, I plan to fuck your ass with them.” He nearly passes out at your vulgar language, face becoming completely molten as you work your fingers around in his mouth, rubbing against his tongue while his eyelids grow heavy. “Does that sound nice? Do you want that, Genya?” The use of his full name lets him know he needs to answer or you’ll stop. You pull your fingers away so he can speak.

“Yes, yes please, I-I want that.” He doesn’t hesitate, knowing full well you can and will deny him if he’s slow to reply. You smile and plunge your fingers back into his mouth, swirling them a bit and even intentionally poking a little too deep to see his eyes water. “Such a good boy, my good boy,” you murmur, and his heart swells at your claiming of him.

Once you’re satisfied, you pull them free with an audible pop, saliva nicely coating them while Genya sits up, expression akin to a puppy eager to please its master for a treat.

“Strip and lay down for me,” you order softly, voice never rising but command firm all the same. It sends shivers down his spine, the ability to completely let his guard down and let you make the decisions for him, let you lead him because without a doubt he trusts you.

“Slow down,” you chuckle and tell him, slowing his violently fast movements to strip into a more normal pace so you can watch his skin be revealed like a present being unwrapped. He’s scarred, a physical reminder he’s survived, but not without cost and pain. His sinewy muscles are revealed as he folds and sets aside his top like you enjoy, his upper body bare, pale skin tinged pink like his face, veins bulging out as he trembles under your stare. He’s embarrassed and aroused, painfully aroused, but it wasn’t anything new in your presence. You set him on fire, made him melt into a puddle. He’s trembling even as he stands and pulls his pants down, adorable white underwear stained and soaked from his earlier release, his cute cock smacking against his skin with a wet noise as he pulls them down and releases it.

Down his lithe muscular legs, Genya fully undresses for you, obeying and sitting back down on the tatami mat below and letting his body lay out.

“So good for me, knees up and legs spread baby,” you coo, kneeling down as well after removing a few layers yourself. He’s star struck, eyes unable to look away from your perfect figure he very much wishes to worship, licking his drying lips in anticipation.

He stays as still as possible, only twitching a little as you blow cool air on the dark reddened tip of his plush cock, the leaking tip mostly hidden by his foreskin. “Keep your eyes on me, okay? If you look away, I’ll stop.” His pupils dilate, watching as you pull his foreskin down and reveal the sensitive tip, tongue slipping out to lick him. He’s panting and you’ve hardly even begun, hands clenched in shaky fists, nails digging into his skin as he struggles to keep his eyes locked with yours as you slowly open your mouth and let a glob of spit roll down his shaft. He wants to burst, ready to cum again by sight alone but he doubts you’ll give him permission to cum before you’ve had your fill yet.

Then he feels the cool wet sensation on the tight ring of muscle below, his balls drawing up as you gently prod with a single digit until he breathes out and relaxes, earning a smile from you as your finger slips inside of him. It doesn’t even burn, only a slightly alien sensation at first as you gradually wiggle and stretch his hole, pad of your finger lightly grazing his prostate.His eyes roll back as a loud moan escapes him, hips jerking up and smearing a line of pre-cum across your lips and cheek as he stutters.

It’s too late when you completely pull away, finger leaving him as well as you sit back patiently. His eyes went wide with panic, “N-no wait—! I-I’m sorry, please, Y/N, I’ll be good, please,” his desperate little pleas tumbling out freely. “I’m not upset ‘Nya, my good boy, I just need you to look at me baby, you can be good and do that right?” He’s nodding before you even finish, a pretty flutter of dark hair moving where his mohawk rests. “Be good, I’ll be good,” he affirms, eyes so serious and strained you giggle, moving back again to his cock twitching desperately for any attention you’re willing to give it.

Genya gasps in shock as you give him two fingers this time, his ass stretching just enough for a tiny burn before it fades as you lock your lips around his cock, swirling your tongue under the skin around his tip. His eyes water, unblinking as they look at you, and you’re blessed with the sight of them finally falling as he grits his teeth and whines for you. Your fingers prod and brush his prostate, warm tongue so gentle and sweet compared to your calculated thrusts into his hole, his whines becoming delirious moans while he pants and drools, face fucked out and so cute you can’t help taking more of his cock into your mouth. He feels so good, a building thrum of pleasure swirling from both his cock and ass it’s turning his brain to mush.

“I-I need, please may I, Y/N—!” He howls your name, one eye nearly closing but he holds strong when you suck particularly hard on him. “May I cum, fuck, please, please I need—!” Tears flow freely now, his dark purple eyes reddened on the corners as they spill down his cheeks while his hips thrust up begging for release.

You pull off with a pop, free hand working his cock still just like before as he grunts almost as if in pain but you know he’s simply holding on by a thread.

“Cum for me ‘Nya, let go baby,” you encourage, and he does. Unable to deny you a single thing and truly unable to stop the white hot pleasure which rips through him as his cock twitches and spurts his hot load. You open your lips, catching his cum in your mouth as he gasps and writhes below, sweet moans and whines filling the space as you gently work him down. You pull your fingers free at last, his tight ring twitching too as you do.

He’s left a sweaty satiated mess when you pull up, easily crawling over him and slotting your lips against his. Genya opens, groaning as you push his cum into his mouth, his salty sweet taste now filling his senses along with the taste of you.

You kiss him with all the love you feel, only pulling away when you need the air finally, adoration and awe covering your slayer’s cute face.

“I love you,” he looks so vulnerable saying it, as if you rejecting him might destroy his fragile heart.

You’d never do such a thing though.

“I love you too, my sweet boy, my Genya,” and he’s gone as you affirm his love. As you claim him.

“Let’s get you cleaned up, and we can have dinner.” Your aftercare is nothing short of perfection, and while he’s shy in receiving such tender care and love he’s been deprived of so long, he’s unable to deny how lovely it is to be cherished like this. He might still not be on the best of terms with his brother, but he knows a safe space will always remain in your arms.

“Y/N…,” you look up, his eyes shining with tears again but this time his smile is filled with gratitude. “Thank you,” his voice is hoarse, but you laugh, wrapping your arms around him and pulling him into your chest as you kiss his head.

Dividers by/@cafekitsune

[kururreal]

“have i not loved you enough, my sweet﹖”

𖢷 ۪ ࣪ ﹙☆﹚ ࣪ ִ HEADCANONS ‹3

culture courting! ooc. don’t kill me pls.

❪ ENMA YUUKEN .ᐟ ❫ 𓍢ִ໋🤍

I. The word "shy" is often used to describe Japanese individuals, and this perception may stem from their traditional cultural practices. Those unfamiliar with Japanese customs might find the Japanese way of life to be rather restrained and conservative, with a strict moral code that could be seen as somewhat antiquated to outsiders. This cultural backdrop contributes to the characterization of Japanese people as being shy and reserved.

II. Yuuken is not dissimilar from others in his nervousness when it comes to courting you. He hesitates to make any significant moves, fearing to cause you discomfort, as he finds the prospect unbearable. Doing so would make him a disappointment to his ancestors, a situation he strives to avoid at all costs. Yuuken's nervous demeanor can be seen as a result of his concern for your comfort and the fear of causing any distress or unease. His wariness is motivated by a deep sense of responsibility to uphold his family's honor and avoid bringing shame upon his ancestors. This trepidation is a testament to his respect for cultural norms and his desire to approach the relationship with sensitivity and consideration.

III. Yuuken adheres to the cultural teachings that discourage excessive public displays of intimacy, as this behavior is deemed improper within Japanese society. Although it is generally frowned upon, those who witness such acts tend to remain polite and look away, attributing the lack of proper understanding to the situation. Despite this, Yuuken is influenced by his upbringing and mentality as a Japanese guy, and continues to follow the traditional standards of courtship while navigating the boundaries of public display of affection.

IV. Yuuken strongly believes that demonstrating genuine care and love to someone special involves expressing it through tangible actions and deeds. Spending quality time together, displaying unwavering support for one another's aspirations, and being unafraid to voice heartfelt sentiments and display affection are all crucial components of his approach to cultivating a meaningful connection. Furthermore, he acknowledges that being open-minded, adaptable, and flexible is essential since every individual is unique and has distinct needs, preferences, and expectations. Ultimately, Yuuken's strategy to court someone revolves around authentically conveying affection through his words, body language, and actions.

V. Japanese youth are raised with the principle of respecting their elders, which can contribute to their shyness and difficulty in expressing their feelings, particularly when it comes to matters of love. The strong emphasis on collectivism and group dynamics further reinforces this behavior, as younger individuals may find comfort in acting as part of a group rather than expressing their emotions individually. Consequently, Yuuken may require some external encouragement, such as moral support or a nudge to bolster his confidence, in order to openly declare his love for someone.

VI. Younger individuals in Japan, who are too shy to initiate a date with someone they like, often turn to a popular dating strategy known as "gokon" (合コン) or "group date." In this setup, the male typically invites his male friends, such as Ace and Deuce, and you invites your own companions. Ideally, there is an equal number of his friends and your friends participants, fostering a more relaxed and inclusive atmosphere, thereby minimizing any potential awkwardness or feelings of being left out.

VII. It is highly probable that Ace and Deuce will tease Yuuken, adding a touch of jest to the situation. Furthermore, there is the possibility that you may lack companions to enlist for their involvement in the group date. In light of these circumstances, Yuuken is likely to instead choose to express his love through actions. In Japanese culture, words of endearment hold little value without corresponding behaviors that genuinely reflect those sentiments. Therefore, he may demonstrate his affection by praising your qualities, sending heartfelt messages, or offering thoughtful gifts.

VIII. Despite the differences in expressing love between Japanese culture and the Western world, the underlying foundations share a common understanding. Both cultures recognize that love is nurtured and reinforced through consistent everyday actions over time. The sentiments themselves are universal, but the Japanese perspective emphasizes the power of actions over words in demonstrating affection. This nuanced difference in expression highlights the significance of tangible actions in strengthening and nourishing the bond of love in Japanese culture.

The courtship rituals in the Queendom of Roses would undoubtedly be distinctive, imaginative, and unconventional. The whimsical and imaginative atmosphere of this realm would lend itself to creative expressions of affection. As a result, each courtship encounter would be like a surprise, adding an element of spontenuity and uniqueness to the experience!

Courtship rituals can differ drastically between the various kingdoms within Wonderland, and the key to successfully courting a partner in this realm is to display confidence, imagination, and a touch of eccentricity. In the Queendom of Roses, unusual gestures and unconventional approaches are highly valued, so don’t be afraid to embrace your uniqueness. When searching for a suitor, seek someone who can handle your fiery demeanor and provide some intellectual stimulation as well. In the Queendom of Roses, partnerships are viewed as a delicate balance between power and wit. Once you find your ideal match, do not be hesitant to pursue them boldly.

The second step in the courtship process in the Queendom of Roses is crucial - the proposal! In this whimsical realm, a well-thought-out proposal typically goes beyond a simple "Will you marry me?" and is instead seen as an opportunity to showcase one's devotion, creativity, and unyielding loyalty. A truly successful proposal in the Queendom of Roses should demonstrate your ability to think outside the box, surprising and delighting your partner with a unique and memorable proposal!

The proposal, in the Queendom of Roses, is an unparalleled affair. Rather than a traditional approach on one knee, the suitor is more likely to orchestrate an extravagant and theatrical spectacle, featuring hidden riddles, intricate scavenger hunts, or even a thrilling escape from the Queen’s guards. It’s not merely about asking for their hand in marriage; it’s about demonstrating one’s willingness to go to any length and handle a dash of the Queendom of Roses brand of madness.

“what about dating?” Oh dear, you are quite impatient aren't you? Dating is the third step, dear. In the Queendom of Roses, dating isn't like those traditional candlelit dinners and hand-holding. No, dear, it's an intricate dance of wit, riddles, and games. Here, they believe the courtship period should be a time to test one's mental acuity, cunning, and ability to keep up with their maddening pace. So, when you begin to date in the Queendom of Roses, keep things lively. Forget about those romantic dinners and movies. How about a thrilling scavenger hunt across the kingdom instead? And instead of a romantic picnic, imagine a tea party with pastries that may or may not be laced with poisonous surprises. Remember, the key to a successful Queendom of Roses relationship is to never, ever get monotonous or dull.

In the realm of Queendom of Roses, the art of courting consists of a precarious equilibrium of allure and insanity. It would likely start with Yuuken sending enigmatic riddles and challenges to assess your shrewdness and ability to keep up with his erratic actions. Once he found a suitor he deemed worthy, he would plan a splendid exhibition of his affections. Perhaps a sumptuous feast where he would make a toast to your impending union, or a soiree filled with games meticulously designed to unveil the compatibility between you and him.

But beyond all that, he'd let his madness guide him. After all, what's courting without a bit of insanity?

❪ RIDDLE ROSEHEARTS .ᐟ ❫ 𓍢ִ໋❤️

I. Riddle would meticulously adhere to the courtship practices of the Queendom of Roses. He would generously bestow gifts and symbols of his affection upon his suitor, each more peculiar and unexpected than the previous. He would organize opulent festivities in their honor, complete with a plethora of whimsical and unforeseeable entertainment. Every moment spent together would become an exercise in preserving his reputation for being "mad" while simultaneously showing his loyalty. And as his suitor responds in kind, they would be accepting the challenge to match his madness, thereby proving themselves worthy of becoming his companion in love and insanity.

II. In this step, Riddle would keenly observe you, diligently studying your personality to ensure that it somewhat resonates with his. Bear in mind that the first step is to select someone who can endure your spirited nature and offer a healthy challenge in return. The Queendom of Roses firmly believes that a partnership should be a delicate balance of power and intellect. You might notice Riddle's gaze lingering on you for longer than others, causing you to wonder if you have accidentally broken a rule. However, fear not, for it's merely riddle meticulously searching for a flawless suitor, and he suspects that you may fit the bill!

III. The next stage, as viewed through Riddle's lens, holds great excitement. There is an opportunity to test your devotion and resilience in the face of his challenges. However, from your point of view, it may seem like he despises you! He propels you towards outlandish scenarios beyond your wildest dreams. He assigns you tasks with objectives that seem inexplicable or impossible to achieve. In addition, he exhibits increased harshness, even meting out punishments for minor transgressions. Confronting a shapeshifter is merely one of the many trials he presents. Every predicament is meticulously orchestrated to unveil your depth of dedication, loyalty, and ability to withstand. He Clearly, he doesn't want a submissive partner, but rather someone who can stand their ground and meet his challenges head-on. These tests are not just his way of having fun, but also an essential part of his evaluation process.

IV. After a week filled with various events and dramatic episodes, Riddle would finally assess that you possess the qualities he seeks in a suitor. He would then regard you with a look of satisfaction, and begin to become increasingly intimate with you. This housewarden can be quite perplexing, isn't he? The third step, dating, unfolds with him inviting you to extravagant parties and tea parties. These occasions are usually teeming with excessive activities and chaos. Riddle thrives in this constant whirlwind of nonsense, and follows rule three to the letter: never be bored. How does he manage to maintain this perpetually tumultuous lifestyle?

V. To sum it up, being courted by Riddle is an absolute whirlwind. It requires a healthy dose of creativity, innovative thinking, and a willingness to embrace the realm of pure insanity that defines the Queendom of Roses. Get ready for a relationship unlike any other!

❪ ACE TRAPPOLA .ᐟ ❫ 𓍢ִ໋❤️

I. RIDICULOUS I HATE HIM I I HOPE HE DIES

II. Don't worry about that. Based on his personality, there is a 50% probability that Ace would follow a more conventional approach in courting. However, due to his unique nature and desire to stand out, it's likely that he would incorporate his own creative flair into the courtship process, aiming to make the experience truly special and memorable for his chosen suitor.

III. The first step in Ace's plan to win your heart is to grab your attention. He might begin by presenting you with a small, eye-catching gift. Then, he'd gradually start to get closer to you, learning more about your interests and desires. He'd actively seek opportunities to spend time with you, whether in a group setting or one-on-1 scenarios. The amount of time spent together largely hinges on your level of interest in him. Ace would also become increasingly physical, if you're open to it, offering hugs and light teases as a way to express his feelings and possibly provoke a reaction from you.

IV. Once Ace has gotten to know you better, he'll take the initiative and make the first move. He understands that it's crucial for him to display his genuine interest as well; it can't always be a one-sided affair. With a clear understanding of you, he'll start flirting with you, but he won't be shy about it. He'll be upfront and bolder in his approach, wanting you to know exactly how he feels and hoping to ignite a reciprocal interest within you. He’d start by making subtle advancements, like touching your arm while talking or sitting next to you closer than usual. If you’re responsive, he may attempt to make more significant moves, like trying to hold your hand or find excuses to get into physical contact with you. Depending on your reaction, he might even lean closer to whisper flirtingly into your ear or surprise you by wrapping an arm around your waist.

VI. After the initial flirtation, Ace would transition to Step 2: making sure you understand your importance to him. He would demonstrate his care through small gestures such as checking in on you when you're feeling upset, offering comfort and reassurance. He would want to make sure you feel safe and confident in knowing that you could always count on him. In addition, he would shower you with a memorable time, taking you out for a wonderful date and treating you like royalty. During this time, he would also subtly highlight his strength and reliability, strengthening your connection. Once he feels comfortable enough with you, he’d start expressing his feelings more openly. He would become increasingly more touchy and flirtatious, he might even start calling you with endearling nicknames. He's not shy, so he’d probably just end up wrapping an arm around your waist without even realising it

V. Lastly, Ace would employ his favorite tactic: good-natured teasing. As a typical teenage boy, his pride is too great for straightforward confessions. He would tease you here and there, leaving you in a state of curiosity and wonder. And why does he do this? Simply because it's amusing to him. He knows that you never know what someone is going to say or reveal about themselves when they're in a more relaxed and playful mood, and teasing is the perfect tool. Have you ever heard of the phrase "pulling pigtails"? Ace's tactic isn't just a form of playful banter or a way to rile you up—it's a way for him to learn more about you. He's interested in seeing how you react to his teases and what kind of person you are. Teasing, in his mind, is a quick and easy way to get a glimpse into your true nature. It's a game he enjoys playing, and he hopes you'll play along. But be warned, his teasing can be quite relentless!

In the vast expanse of the Shaftlands, the courtship customs are influenced by the myriad cultures and climates found within its borders. Nevertheless, a common thread runs through all of them: a deep rooted appreciation for chivalry. Traditional values such as a gentlemanly demeanor and romantic gestures typically feature prominently in courtship rituals, with men expected to take the lead. As a first step, small tokens or gifts are often presented as symbols of affection or interest. These gifts can range from small trinkets or flowers to more meaningful tokens that reflect a deeper thought or understanding of the recipient's interests or personality. Such gestures serve as a way to express interest and begin the initial stages of courtship, with men often looking to impress and capture the attention of those they are courting.

Respect for the partner's parents or family, especially the elders, often plays a significant role in the Shaftlands courtship rituals. While the culture encourages independence and self-sufficiency from a young age, families hold great importance in the lives of Shaftland individuals. Once you're in a serious relationship with a Shaftlands partner, expect to spend a considerable amount of time with their parents, also known as the Schwiegereltern

The final step to a courtship in the Shaftlands is often spending quality time together through shared activities and conversations. However, it is worth noting that the Shaftlands are a vast country with diverse climates and many regions with distinct cultures. As a result, the specifics of the courtship process can vary greatly depending on the locale and cultural traditions. Some regions may place more emphasis on courtship rituals and symbols, while others may prioritize getting to know each other through shared experiences.

In Vil's country, courtship is approached gradually and thoughtfully. The good news is that there are no strict dating rules in the Shaftlands, making it a rather flexible environment for pursuing romantic connections. However, bear in mind a few key points when navigating the world of love in Shaftlands. Unlike the passionate and fervent dating culture in the Queendom of Roses and Sunset Savanna, Shaftlands individuals favor a more measured and rational approach to dating. Rather than fiery and intense encounters, initial dates and even a handful of subsequent dates are likely to be kept casual and focused on building a strong foundation of understanding between partners. Don’t expect the first date—or even the first several dates—to have a strong romantic flair. Instead, the goal is to engage in relaxed, unpressured activities that allow you and your partner to grow closer on an emotional and intellectual level. This approach ensures that when and if the relationship moves towards a deeper commitment or the introduction of intimate elements, it will be based on a strong foundation of mutual respect and comprehension.

While casual dating may be the standard in the Shaftlands, it is generally assumed that both parties will not be seeing multiple individuals simultaneously. Engaging in such behavior is viewed as offensive and disrespectful unless both parties have explicitly agreed upon it from the onset. Monogamous relationships are the preferred and expected norm, and any deviation from this practice without clear agreement can lead to hurt feelings or broken trust.

The process of transitioning from casual dating to a serious relationship in the Shaftlands can be a gradual one, as rushing into committed partnerships is not a priority. Relationships here often progress at a more measured pace, developing slowly and naturally over time. Consequently, patience is key, and the dating period should be viewed as an opportunity to thoroughly get to know your partner and assess the compatibility of your connection. By taking the time to truly understand one another, you can ensure that when the decision to enter a committed relationship is made, it is done with confidence and clarity.

this is getting too long (°▽°)

❪ VIL SCHOENHEIT .ᐟ ❫ 𓍢ִ໋💜

I. If Vil were to court someone who holds a special fondness for nature, she might plan an outing to a lovely garden where they can bask in the beauty of the natural world together. On the other hand, if her suitor is artistic and values refined aesthetics, she might arrange a visit to an art gallery, where they can spend the day admiring the skill and beauty of the creative expression. In essence, Vil would tailor the first date to cater to her suitor's unique interests, creating a memorable experience that reflects their individual tastes and passions. In summary, Vil would take the time to understand her suitor's preferences and interests, and plan the first date accordingly. This could mean going on a nature walk in a beautiful garden for someone who appreciates the beauty of the outdoors, or exploring an art gallery and admiring the creative expressions for an artistic individual. By catering to her suitor's unique preferences, Vil would aim to create a memorable and enjoyable experience that sets the foundation for a meaningful connection.

II. Vil, being a busy individual, would approach the dating process with a deliberate and measured pace. She would carefully arrange dates during her free time, taking care to be on her best behavior and ensure that she presents herself in the best possible light. In the event that the initial date went well, as she is confident it would, she would plan additional dates but still maintain a slower pace. Vil has the habit of making her partners wait to assess their patience and level of effort. If she believes they are worthy, she will gradually open her heart more and more, eventually granting them the privilege of being considered hers. In essence, Vil is a person who holds high standards and values individuals who can demonstrate patience and dedication. She is not one to rush into relationships, but rather takes her time to evaluate her partners and their commitment. Only if someone can prove their worth and devotion would Vil consider letting them into her heart.

III. When it comes to your date with Vil, it is crucial to arrive on time. She values punctuality and expects her date to respect her time. However, in the event that an unexpected situation arises and you find yourself unable to make it at the agreed upon time, be sure to notify her promptly. Otherwise, she might perceive it as a lack of consideration for her schedule and effort. Showing up late without a valid reason can make you appear unreliable and disrespectful of Vil's time, so it's essential to be mindful of the agreed-upon time and plan your arrival accordingly. If an unforeseen circumstance arises, promptly communicate this to Vil and provide an explanation to ensure a smooth and respectful start to your date.

IV. Following a successful first date, Vil would move on to a second date and continue spending time with her suitor. However, it is important to note that she sets the pace and does not easily give herself to her partner. She wants them to prove their worth and seriousness by meeting her particular standards. During dates, Vil maintains her usual strict and composed demeanor, avoiding any signs of clinginess. She expects her suitor to respect her and show that they are not taking her for granted or assuming victory just because they have gone on a few dates. In order to win her heart completely, they still need to continue courting her. In short, despite going on multiple dates with her suitor, Vil will not immediately become overly affectionate or dependent on them. Instead, she expects them to continue courting and demonstrating their commitment and respect for her values and standards. She will not be easily won over and will remain discerning in her assessments of her partner’s intentions and dedication.

VI. Upon reaching the third step, if her suitor continues to impress her and does not let her down, Vil would start to open up and show vulnerability more. She would share her dreams and secrets with them and gauge their reaction. If they do not use this information against her, she would become more affectionate and offer a kiss on the cheek as a token of her growing feelings. However, she would not completely give herself away just yet, as she still expects her suitor to work for her affection and earn her trust completely. Despite her initial cold exterior, Vil is discerning and demands genuine, lasting efforts.

V. In the fourth step, Vil would begin to invite her suitor to events and parties, but still as a friend. She would continue to observe their behaviour and manner in public settings, keeping them on probation even then. However, if she is satisfied with their conduct thus far, her treatment towards them will become more special and affectionate, with hints dropped to indicate that they are making progress in winning her over. Despite these signs of softening, however, her suitor must still maintain their patience and keep up their efforts, as this is not the time to become complacent. If they have managed to stay in her good graces up to this point Vil would further demonstrate their growing closeness in public, such as holding their hand while walking or allowing them to enter her personal space. It’s possible that she might even allow them to address her by her first name at this stage. However, all of these actions are dependent on the suitor’s behaviour and continuing efforts to make her feel secure and valued in their relationship.

In the scorching lands of The Scalding Sands, "dating" typically takes a different form. The primary intent is to get acquainted with someone, with the ultimate goal of marriage in mind. Public displays of affection are not common, and it is uncommon for couples to meet alone. This is because of the cultural norms and societal restrictions that govern relationships in the region. Couples often meet under the supervision of a family member or chaperone, and the process of courtship involves more formalities and traditions compared to other regions.

While arranged marriages are still common in The Scalding Sands, a newer trend is emerging, particularly in urban areas. Young people are now more likely to express interest in a potential partner to their parents, who will then facilitate the marriage. This process allows for young individuals to explore less serious relationships, enabling them to gain a clearer understanding of what they seek in a life partner. Once they feel ready to settle down, they can communicate this information to their parents, who will then embark on finding a compatible match.

Some couples in The Scalding Sands may have already been secretly dating before revealing to their parents that they would like to marry. The approach to the marriage process can vary depending on the region and the familial perspectives. This secrecy could be due to the traditional norms around the topic of dating, where families may not approve of couples seeing each other before an official agreement has been arranged.

In The Scalding Sands, the concept of 'dating' is culturally taboo and often met with disapproval. If a couple is caught in a private setting, it is considered a sin or crime known as 'khulwa'. The consequences of engaging in khulwa can be severe, including punishments such as flogging and imprisonment. If sexual relations are involved, the penalties can be even more severe, potentially leading to death through execution. This strict cultural stance reflects the region's conservative values and deeply ingrained beliefs about premarital relationships.

In The Scalding Sands, dating tends to be a covert affair and finding romance in this highly conservative kingdom can be challenging, but not entirely out of reach. Expats should bear in mind that dating in the traditional sense is not practiced; instead couples come together when it's time for marriage. Parents play a pivotal role in deciding which partner is appropriate, and a person's say in the matter can vary based on their family's adherence to tradition. Additionally, due to the conservative nature of the culture, public displays of affection are not generally accepted, and physical contact between unmarried couples is strictly prohibited. Therefore, dating in The Scalding Sands is often limited to secret meetings or conversations in private spaces, where couples must exercise caution to avoid disapproval or punishment.

In addition to the previously mentioned points, it is important to note that it is both morally and legally wrong for unrelated individuals who are not married to spend time together in The Scalding Sands. As a result, those seeking a romantic relationship should exercise caution and creativity. Despite the progressive changes in the Kingdom, which now allow for entertainment such as music, movies, and theaters, thus allowing for more public interaction, dating, sexual relations, and romantic relationships are still highly stigmatized and seen as taboo.

In The Scalding Sands, due to the taboo nature of dating, the first dates are typically held discreetly. If both individuals reside in the same compound or have access to one, they might opt to spend their first date at the movies or a restaurant within the compound. Since the societal rules are more lenient within the compound, this is a comfortable choice for couples. Select restaurants in major cities also offer private cabins and exhibit a relaxed attitude towards gender mixing. Reaching out to your circle of fellow expats is a great way to discover suitable date spots, as they often know of locations with a more lenient approach.

In The Scalding Sands, it is not legally permissible for unmarried couples to share the same space. As a result, it is not customary for men to drive women to and from their homes. It is also not advisable to adhere to Western dating rituals, such as giving gifts, hugging, and other forms of physical intimacy. At the conclusion of the date, if there is a bill, men will typically pay for it, and they might find it offensive if a woman offers to contribute to the cost.

❪ KALIM AL - ASIM .ᐟ ❫ 𓍢ִ໋💛

I. Kalim, being raised in a traditional merchant family with a lineage of wealth and prestige, grew up in a privileged and sheltered environment. With his elevated social status, Kalim was well-aware of the importance of expressing his interest in someone. He adopted a straightforward approach, either through compliments or directly telling them of his feelings, without resorting to beating around the bush. Back in his homeland, there were numerous ways to express interest, such as gifts, flowers, food, and even whispering sweet words to someone's ear. Unmarried, unrelated individuals could not spend time together, as elders sought to preserve purity and innocence before marriage. This segregation was seen as a means to preserve purity and innocence, and it was believed to reinforce family values and traditions. While relationships were discouraged before marriage, once two people wed, they were expected to devote their lives to their spouse and children. In The Scalding Sands, the cultural emphasis on family was reflected in its views on dating and intimate relationships.

II. If you have feelings for someone, it is crucial to be discreet about it. Gifting presents and such gestures is still allowed, but families and elders would prefer not to know about it. They might force a marriage and deal with all the boring formalities otherwise. To initiate a romantic pursuit, the first step is to let the person know you're interested. Kalim would use a variety of methods to express his interest, such as giving gifts, whispering sweet words, or even simply telling them. Additionally, he would utilize eye contact, physical touch, and other subtle gestures to make a statement. Eye contact, physical touch, and being close to someone all serve as indicators of Kalim's investment and interest in them. They convey that he wants them and can't keep his hands off them. This non-verbal communication can be a powerful way to demonstrate affection and build attraction. While the elders and families might prefer to remain unaware of these romantic pursuits, Kalim's actions make it clear that he has his sights set on his chosen person.

III. The second step in the traditional pursuit of romance is a significant one, signaling mutual interest. It's often a declaration of feelings, and it culminates in asking for a kiss. However, the timing of this step can vary; it doesn't have to happen immediately. The process can progress at one's own pace. Making such a gesture acts as a bold declaration of liking someone, essentially saying, "I like you, and I want to show that I like you." It serves as a mutual test, and if the person responds by kissing back, it indicates shared feelings. Conversely, if a person pulls away, it implies a lack of interest. Body language can be a reliable indicator. A person who isn't into you may create emotional distance through actions like moving away from your touch or getting too close. They might show confusion or bluntly state their disinterest. However, someone interested in you will do the opposite. They may smile, lean into your touch, or even become shy if the feelings are reciprocated. You can discern these signals.

IV. In The Scalding Sands, dating is not a widespread practice. When two individuals realize they have feelings for each other, their families step in to arrange the marriage as soon as possible, but the timing can vary. The arrangements for the marriage typically begin once mutual interest is established. In Kalim's case, if he senses the other person shares his interest, he would promptly start the process leading to a marriage proposal. Before what Westerns refer to as "dating", Kalim would approach the person's family to ask for their hand in marriage. This process is not rushed, and it generally follows a pattern where you get to know the person and spend time together before making the proposal. By doing this, he makes a strong statement, basically declaring his intention to be with the person, which carries significant weight given the traditional values of the region.

VI. Kalim's formal marriage proposal would include gifting and some sort of public announcement, adhering to traditional customs. However, typically, it's a family member who seeks permission from the other family. Kalim could ask for the person's hand in marriage directly or have a family member do so on his behalf. A gift or offering would be given as a demonstration of his ability to provide. It's important to note that some families might prioritize monetary value over material gifts, but generally, offering gifts or money serves as a common approach for marriage proposals in Kalim's culture. The act of asking for someone's hand in marriage is indeed a very formal affair, steeped in tradition. It typically involves the giving of gifts and some form of public announcement, symbolizing both respect and a declaration of intent. It is also worth noting that in Kalim's culture, it is often a family member, rather than the individual himself, who makes the request to the other family, whether it be to seek their blessing or to ask for their hand in marriage. Giving a gift, or more often, money, serves as a crucial gesture of goodwill and a demonstration of one's ability to provide and support.

V. This phase is often considered the last step before officially getting married. Instead of referring to it as "dating," in The Scalding Sands' culture, this period is more focused on spending time together to determine how compatible the couple is, especially in the context of a future marriage. It's a crucial time for assessing compatibility and preparing for the commitment of matrimony.

VI. Kalim would be generous by showering you with luxurious jewelry and other extravagant gifts. He would also try to spend as much time with you as possible, potentially being a little clingy due to his desire to keep you all to himself. Kalim might take you on wonderful dates like going to festivals or parties, or even stargazing or taking you on a magical carpet ride. He would devote all his attention to you and likely shower you with sweet compliments. Kalim would go all out, spoiling you with expensive jewelry and exclusive items. He'd want to spend every moment with you and might be somewhat possessive, not wanting anyone else to get close to you. He'd plan exciting dates like attending festivals or parties while also offering special experiences like stargazing or a magical carpet ride. Throughout it all, he’d shower you with his undivided attention and compliment you in the sweetest ways.

i cant write “x reader” properly i’m so sorry

“courtship” has slowly lost its meaning

[ace7librarian]

I think the saddest part for me about this war is that I don't trust anyone that considers themselves liberal and progressive.

I used to. Seeing a pride flag on someone's profile was enough for me to trust them. I would assume I could be safe and comfortable with them. My family made fun of me for it, but I truly believed there were genuinely good people with a perfect way of living.

I've seen so much shit online. I see all of those blue haired liberals my uncle made fun of me for being tearing away photos of kidnapped Jews. I see people I considered friends posting harmful misinformation. People with cartoons characters I like as a profile picture say my people deserved this.

It feels bonkers to double check if someone wants me dead before talking to them. This shit makes me realise why my ancestors didn't mix with goy people. I know most people don't mean harm to me, but how can I know? Maybe that's why there are Jewish supremacists. Obviously we're all human, shitty people are everywhere, but when everyone tell your community to die, it's easy to hate everyone outside your community.

I don't hate people who disappointed me as a whole. I feel like I lost faith in the entire humanity. Except for my people. This is a fucking terrifying feeling. I've been marginalized my whole life- a queer autistic woman. I never hated men, I never hated cishet people, I never hated allistic people. I'm so close to hating goy people. I've never been closer to being just like the people I hate most. It's a horrible feeling. And I blame every goy person.

Tldr- I lost my faith in humanity and I feel my morals collapsing

[ashblooddragons]

The Red Queen (Chapter 7/?)

112 ac

Alicents pov

I sit next to Myrielle in the royal box waiting for the tourney to start and for Rhaenyra to show. I have no idea how she gets away with all she does, if I did even half the things she’s done today I would be forced to be a Septa by my Father, only love and lust for the gods.

I sigh and look over at you and your friends smiling as you excitedly show them your new necklace, you had shown me it soon after so excited and only wanting to show me your new gift.

“Ali! Look! Look! Kepus gave this to me, don’t you think it’s pretty? Oh, I love it so much!” You say and I can’t help but notice you have seemingly had your hair fixed into a proper style. I’ve been needing to fix that, wonder who did. I think to myself. 

“Ah, let me see.” I say kneeling down so I can face you properly as I lift the garnet pendant watching as the rich red of the stone catches the light making it even more beautiful. “Lovely, a beautiful gift for a beautiful girl.” I say smiling when you beam with joy at the compliment.

“Mam– Ali do you have any jewelry that your family gave you that was a ancestirs?” You ask curiously as you play with the sapphire necklace around my neck. Your correction isn’t lost on me but I let you think I missed you almost calling me Mama.

It is moments like this one, where I know I am not alone in the feeling that I am your Mother. I may not have birthed you, nor carried you in my womb but you are my little girl.

“Ancestors,” I correct gently before I touch the necklace on my neck. “And yes, this used to be my Mother’s before she passed. I have many other necklaces, rings, bracelets, and earrings, that used to be hers.”

I know the moment you catch that my Mother is dead, I hae never told you nor have you most likely ever heard this fact so the tears that come to your eyes are not surprising. 

“Your Mama is dead? Is there any way to bring her back, so you can have her again?” You ask seemingly trying to find any way to take my pain away from her passing which seems to bring your young mind to necromancy. 

I can’t help but giggle at your young and innocent idea. “No, and besides she is in a better place, she is happy with the Stranger now, walking through fields of lilies and havig the sun kiss her skin at all times of day.”  I saw with a mournful smile. 

“Is the Stranger kind?” You ask wiping away your tears with the back of your dress sleeve. 

“Very kind.” I say before teaching you more about the seven and what each one is for and why they are important.

I’m snapped out of my thoughts when I hear the King start his speech before the tourney starts. “Be welcome! I know many of you have traveled long leagues to be at these games. But I promise, you will not be disappointed–”

The King pauses when Rhaenyra tries to sneak in and take her seat. I suppress a scoff when she sits down smirking thinking she got away with something again, and to be fair she probably did with how the King bends to her will.

“When I look at the fine knights in these lists, I see a group without equal in our histories. And this great day has been made more auspicious by the news that I am happy to share, the Queen Aemma has begun her labors!” 

With that announcement the crowd erupts into applause and cheers, small folk and noble alike rejoicing at the future heir to be born. I turn to look at you and see you nervously biting ad chewing on you lower lip it is already getting bloody and chapped. I at times worry if my nervous habit with m fingers has led you to do the same only with your lips. I reach over to hold your hand comforting you the only way I can. you may not say it or show it, nor understand it, but I can tell you worry for the Queen and your future sibling.

“May the luck of the Seven shine on all combatants!” The King says finally finishing his speech witha sigh and sitting on his mock throne. 

I turn to look at you after you tugged on the sleeve of my dress. “Yes, darling?” 

“Where’s Kepus? He said he was going to be in the games, but I haven’t seen him yet.” You are confused as you search for your dear uncle, or should I say Kepus. 

“He will be out soon, but first we have to watch Ser Cole and Ser Aldwin Sarwyck joust.” I say gently smiling when you nod, you don’t seem to like this information but you also seem to understand.

You’ve never cared much for tourneys, finding them too long and too boring. And I can’t blame you, as soon as it gets entertaining it is determined you must not see such violence at your young age. So when Ser Cole unmounts Ser Aldwin you don't clap nor cheer as loud as the rest, only clapping as you know you must.

“Princess Rhaenys Targaryen! I would humbly ask for the favor of ‘The Queen Who Never Was’.” Lord Boremund Baratheon declares holding his jousting stick up to the balcony.

You can hear the chatter of the courtiers gossiping. Do they ever stop? Probably not. I think to myself scowling when I see one of them point to you and your friends giggling over lemon cakes and tea.

“Good fortune to you, cousin.” Princess Rhaenys says obviously not happy with he cousins behavior but putting on a good face.

The less things for this court of vipers to gossip about you, the better. Or that is at least what my father loves to tell me when I even think of running through teh halls. 

“I would gladly take it if I thought I needed it.” He says pompously like any true Baratheon would. 

I hear a pained gasp beside me and turn to see Myrielle looking up at her brother and the lady Cerelle Celtigar seeming to be holding hands and talking. I had heard they are now bethrothed and getting ready to marry in three moons. Such a quick wedding has raised eyebrows as to why they are wedding so quickly, I have yet to hear one that makes sense. 

“Are you alright, Myrielle?” I ask worried as to what has he nearly in tears. 

“Yes, yes, sorry I must have gotten something in my eyes.” She says clearly lying but I pretend to believe her for her sake. That is until I hear Rhaenyra scoff.

“Is that what is’s called when you almost lay with your brother? You know it’s wrong right, to want to fuck your brother or family? That is at least what the rumors say.” She says crudely. 

I turn back and see tears rolling down Myrielles cheeks, whether that be because of shame or rage I can not tell. I can’t believe Rhaenyra’s hypocrisy, she has always found the conquers marriage as beautiful, and yet she sits there berating a girl over a rumor? It must be this that pushes me to speak up, to try and take Rhaenyra down a peg. 

“As if you Targaryens have any room to talk. Were the conquers not brother and sisters, or had I read the history books wrong?” I ask with a smirk knowing I’ve backed her into a corner.

I can see Rhaenyra is ready to lash back when the King clears his throat and when we turn to look at him, he’s glaring at Rhaneyra making her slump back into her chair with a scowl upon her face.

I turn back to Myrielle who is smiling thankfully. “I do not know if this is true, but as far as I’m concerned it is only a rumor about the new lady of court.” I say squeezing her hand reasuringly, before turning back to watch as the Rouge Prince comes riding into the jousting ring. 

I can’t help but smile when you perk up at the sight of him, for if he can bring that smile of pure joy to your little face can he truly be that bad? 

I was so distracted by your excited chatter that you had finally been allowed to make a favor for a knight that I missed the way Myrielle and my eldest brother, Lorent, were staring at each other. If I had I would have noticed the blush on Myrielles face and the look of lust in my brother’s eyes.

“Who do you think he’ll pick?” You ask as you watch Prince Daemon moving his horse up and down the line of knights to choose from. When I see my brother Gwayne I get a sick feeling in the pit of my stomach put push it down and smile down at you,

“I have no idea, though they musat be a extraordinary knight to be choices for the Prin–.” I say only to stop when I see he picked the one person I hoped and silently prayed he wouldn’t, Gwyane.

“Who’s the one with the tower helmet?” You ask curiously as you lean into me on the seate we are sitting on.

You do this often, looking for my touch and comfort, besides the Prince I am the person you seek out the most.

“My brother.” I say fighting the urge to bite and pick at my cuticles. It is not for my sake but for yours for I will not let you gain such a harming habit because of me, because of my anixites. So I will push them down for your sake. 

“He must be a very good knight for Kepus to pick him.” You say in wonder. 

Or the son of the Prince’s greatest enemy. I think coldly.

I hold my breath as I watch the joust, my brother seems to have almost knocked the Prince off his horse. But on the next joust, the Prince leans his jousting stick downward so it trips the horse making the horse and my brother flip through the air landing with a resounding crash that makes everyone gasp. But I do not get much time to recoup until the Prince is in front of the balcony smirking up at us, or should I say, my father.

“Nicely done uncle.” Rhaenyra says with a smirk batting her eyes ar him. I have to fight the urge to slap her as she seems to forger my brother was just carried out of the tourney ring. 

“Thank you, Rhaenyra, now I am fairly certain I can win these games but what isn’t a little extra luck from the most beautiful maiden here?” He says smiling when you walk up with your friends smiling and waving at him.

“It would be my honor Uncle.” Rhaenyra says breathlessly getting ready to grab her favor when the Prince stops her.

“Not you, I meant the Realms Darling over here.” He says pointing his jousting stick towards you.

The look of pure joy crossing your face mixed with Rhaenyra’s look of betrayal and embarrassment almost made my brothers injury worth it, almost.

You run over to grab your favor only to run back and almost tripping and falling from your excitement, it’s a good thing I caught you or else you may have fallen off the balcony. 

“I made it myself!” You say excitedly as you reach over just barely able to reach before letting your wreath slide down.

“It is a lovely favor, it is sure to make me win.” He says making you giggle as he rides off.

“He’ll win with my favor right?” You ask as you hold my hand as we walk back to our seat.

“If he does not then he must have terrible luck because you are the luckiest girl in the world.” I say tickling your sides making you giggle uncontrollably. 

As the match goes on we don’t notice how slowly but surely the crowd seems to becomes mournful. It is only after your uncle lost his bout and whispered something to Ser Cole that we finally hear the news.

“Ali, please say it’s not true.” You plead tears rolling down your little face. 

When I can’t find a response you burst into tears and sob into my chest as I hold you close praying I could take all your pain and put it onto myself. But there is no gods, or magic that would let me so I sit there holding you and carrying you to your chambers as you cry your little heart out as any little girl should after losing their mother.

This is the necklace I see that Alicent was wearing, the one made of Sapphires from her mom.

Series Masterlist

Special thanks to my bestie @sugutoad for making the header for this fic! I swear I be lost without you Girly!

Also Nymeria and Myrielle are my besties @sugutoad ocs so give her the love for these magical and beautiful characters!!

Taglist: @sugutoad @ilikefelines @mmogurl @classicsimpforaaronwarner @baybaybear1 @sachaa-ff

[borzoilover69]

Alpha kids and why I like them (AKA the loneliest kids in paradox space)

(Elaboration under the cut.)

To get the nitty gritty out of the way, I like the Alphas because they're so openly flawed and relatable as characters, yet incredibly talented and ambitious in their desire to achieve and succeed, even though they're doomed. They're doomed to never even come close.

Take a look at the starting of the Beta's session, versus the Alpha session. The beta session starts in spring, a season thematically connected to nature, new beginnings, change, and opportunity. Their story grants them the chance to change and grow and realise their full potential, of which they do with the help of the trolls. They are the heroes, they are the ones that will create a new world.

The Alpha session starts in fall, otherwise known as Autumn. It's fitting that it's called the fall, given it truly is. Fall symbolises the late stages of maturity, decline, decay, and death. Their story is not one of creating, of realising their potentials. They were told to wait. There was to be no positive growth, no positive development or true adventure and beginnings, the planets they inherited were barren, and with only each other as company, it put a strain on their relationships that broke them apart. They were never called heroes. They were called Nobles. Their session, their entire lives, were ruled by the VOID. Not BREATH.

Even their tools that we first learn of them using are thematically on par. The betas, with their alchemiter, create a retinue of cool things to use, upgrade their fraymotifs, so on. They create and thrive. The alpha session is given a gristwidget, to conserve and survive.

They struggle. Terribly. The one thing that was supposed to save them, to be the biggest thing in their lives, was a massive disappointment and year long wait with nothing that much going on. They struggle with seeming independent, never feeling like enough (again, the void) and their expectations were such a let down for what they all expected.

The game was supposed to be the time where they reunited, where mind you, they saw their LIFE LONG friends, and finally had the chance to grow and change with each other, but it fell first. To quote a buddy of mine.

youre telling me they were given horrible starts and the game that they were anticipating their entire lives ended up killing them and oh it started a downward spiral of the very bonds theyve spent so much working up to? to.. wait for better people to save you? fuck my life man.

They resonate me because they have such high expectations for themselves and refuse to communicate because of that, because for so long they've been doing it on their own it becomes genuinely hard to talk about the things that suck. There's a VOID separating them all, whether it's Janes VOID in knowledge, the VOID that Roxy handles by indulging in underage drinking, the VOID of Dirks heart, splintering and constantly plaguing his thoughts, or the VOID that Jake has to struggle with as he borders on knowing, and being willfully ignorant if it means he can be comfortable. There is a VOID. A VOID separating them from their friends, from their achievements, and their potentials.

It's so hopeless. Their aspects, their themes, their stories and relationships, they're never enough, it's a struggle of not being enough. Do you know what it's like to finally make a change and oh, it turns out it's going to be debilitating to you? You get your big break and.. it's not it.

Their expectations crashed on the shores of opportunity and they could only watch and wait for their ancestors, who they never got to truly know to save them. The true heroes. Even their alpha versions were defined as heroes, adamant on fighting the condesce and bringing her down. They were never shown as human beings, they were yet another expectation to hold themself up to and aspire to be, which they could never surmount to.

They struggled to amount to something in their lives and they fell short. They became for the most part worse versions of themselves, and they blamed themselves terribly for it. Their moment isn't a rise, it's a fall. Everything just got worse. They're stuck with that feeling of insecurity, of inadequacy, that void, because they couldn't do what they needed to do as well as their dancestors, the kind of "I know we were doomed to fail and there's nothing we could've done to change it, but I feel like we are lesser for not finding a way."

The guilt that the betas had to go for YEARS to get a happy ending, and they didn't break as much as the alphas. The betas seem so much stronger than the alphas in a "if THEY could handle it, couldn't YOU GUYS handle it?" way, but it's not about which group had it harder, it's different. The alphas had so much bullshit happen, more than the betas, because they didn't really have the exposure to outside world that told them "hey you shouldn't always hold yourself to such high expectations constantly it will do a number on you if you expect so much from yourself and your peers." but it didn't exist.

The betas didn't grow up in shattered worlds. Maybe they grew up in households that weren't intact, but it was never the same level as the alphas, not even close. The alphas were broken from the start, in time, in space, in beginning. A VOID. They're so unbelievably tragic for that.

And the saddest most tragic part is. We don't see them change for the better. We see them *come to terms* with their flaws, but in ways that are detrimental in the long run, it's almost fitting that the only one that adjusted for the better was Roxy, Rogue of Void, and even then she indulges as soon as she's given a chance to do so. Because it's hard to grow up and change your ways. It's hard to grow up and change and grow and nobody really understands.

[tsukinoakume]

RW&RB MovieAlex vrs BookAlex: A Rant

I'm late to the party on Red, White, and Royal Blue for a dumb reason and now I'm obsessed with it. OMG I WAS SO WRONG.

I love the book. I love the movie. I also love the difference between them that I find myself obsessing over: the lack of June.

I love June. I'm also not mad that they removed her from the movie, because I honestly don't think they had the time to do her justice. The important thing is that when they removed her, they split her personality and scenes between Nora and Alex. And the result is fascinating.

Combining June with Alex gives us a calmer, more emotionally mature, competent version of Alex. He is definitely not the hot mess that BookAlex is. (Don't get me wrong here: BookAlex is my favorite character.) But now it's implied that MovieAlex is better at keeping his temper, handles his shit without being micromanaged, advocates for himself more, and I'm pretty sure the speech he gives is his own. Probably with help, but still. Also not having divorced parents means MovieAlex doesn't have BookAlex's abandonment issues. It's never said that his parents' relationship is perfect, but it's implied that he's had a stable family background. MovieAlex still has flaws and he's not Nora Levels of Competency, but he's definitely a lot more balanced. And this actually changes his relationship with Henry, just a little.

Namely in reference to my two favorite scenes:

1) Storming the Castle.

BookAlex is a ball of rage in this scene, and it's GLORIOUS. Yelling at the windows, aggressively dripping everywhere trying to ruin the rugs, making rude comments about Henry's ancestors. He is defiant. He yells, Henry yells back. It ends in tears, but there's a lot of anger.

MovieAlex by contrast is quieter, more hurt. He hardly yells at all. (I rewatched this scene like 20 times for Repeat to be sure.) He's determined, and he doesn't back down, but you get to see that split second of fear in his eyes that Henry is asking him to leave. There's a lot more emotion and tears in this version. It's ... sweeter isn't the right word. Bittersweet, maybe.

Downside: The lack of transition in the morning from the book. I miss Alex expecting to be dumped, and Henry realizing he doesn't want Phillip's life before deliberately making the choice to be with Alex. Also the comment on Alex's hair, which made me giggle.

2) The Museum Scene

I know a lot of people are disappointed with this scene, and I feel the need to argue about why it's brilliant the way it is.

In the book, they go to the museum because Henry has made his choice, and now he's showing one of his favorite places to Alex. He's the one who brings up the music. He chooses to fulfill his fantasy with Alex there, and he chooses to play a song that embodies the romanticism of their situation, about being in love and not being able to let anyone else know. Your Song.

In the movie, they go to the museum when Henry's still trying to decide if this is something he can have, and he's sharing a part of himself with Alex when he talks about his fantasy. Alex is the one who chooses to fufill it, so of course he chooses a different song. For him, it's a song about how easy it is to love Henry. I Can't Help Falling In Love With You.

I also love that they changed Henry giving the ring to Alex to Alex giving Henry his key in return. I love the symbolism of Alex keeping Henry's ring safe for him, of their two homes side by side. But I also love the idea of exchanging parts of themselves. I love that they have those pieces of each other when they're separated and the emails are exposed.

The book tells the story better overall because it has the time to, and the bickering and friendship between the boys is everything. The movie makes me melt over the flirting and affection between them. I can't pick one over the other because both versions of this story are wonderful.

But emotionally mature MovieAlex and how soft he is with Henry, making sure Henry's taken care of? I am WEAK for that.

[bloodflwrz]

These wall artworks in Carl Manfred's Mansion (theory and analysis)

Carl's mansion itself is an amazing location because I can't help but look and analyze every single piece of art scattered across the walls and floor. But these three objects in particular made me curious, I wanted to understand why they were specifically chosen to be placed on that wall. None of them are similar in any way, stemming from different cultures, eras, and material. So, what could they mean? I have an idea, sort of.

I believe each of these three pieces represent our main three protagonists, from left to right: Connor, Markus, and Kara. It represents their identity, their story, their journey. I did some research on these objects, using Google Lens to help point me first in the right direction of the possible inspiration or sources of the pieces, and afterwards my own reading using various art archives, articles, galleries, and museum sites. (I apologize for the wall of text 😅)

1st, Connor:

This seems to be a type of emblem, shield, a coat of arms. A coat of arms is typically adorned and used to represent an entity, and organization, an empire, government, army, or a noble family. Coats of arms are intellectual property, meaning, they cannot be worn just by anybody and flaunted just to feel special, you have to be deserving and privileged enough to display it. Wearing one is a sign of honor and respect, as well as servitude, and with it comes the duty of representing your status and regulating civil law, should you be in a position of policing, legal activity, or combat.

How does this relate to Connor?

Our beloved Android sent by CyberLife has been given orders by his makers, the great and all powerful company that produces every single Android we see in game. His duty is to assist the Detroit Police Department in investigating deviants. This coat of arms, particularly shaped like a shield or police badge, represents Connor's story as a prestigious and advanced prototype Android, with the capability to analyze clues at an inhuman rate and perform combat maneuvers like its child's play. He is not a force to be reckoned with, should he choose to stay a machine, in fact, he IS the law. He is the shield and representative of the company, CyberLife, and its only chance at finding the source of deviancy among their highest-profiting product, Androids. Without Connor, CL is headed straight into nothingness. He must not disappoint Amanda, his handler, and be the loyal subject that he was programmed to be. The infamous blue triangle logo found on every Android's uniform, a symbol of CL, is just a modern version of a coat of arms.

If you look from a Deviant Connor perspective, the police badge/shield-shaped coat of arms could also represent his loyalty to Hank and his protective demeanor. At almost every dangerous encounter alongside his partner, Connor is given the choice to either protect or ignore Hank's safety. Though his priority is to find the deviants, it is his personal mission to protect Hank from harm.

2nd, Markus:

A Marka/Dogon mask, originating from West African ethnic groups (Mali, Ivory Coast, Burkina Faso), particularly the Bambara and Dogon people (and other adjacent groups within the geographic location). This one was a bit difficult to research about, as many masks tend to have ambiguous origins and meaning, but from what I read, these masks tend to represent the coming of age, male initiation, journey into manhood, identity within a society, as well as religious association when used in rituals, sacrifice, and tradition. Some forms of these masks are used in rituals that have a connection with the dead, showing reverence and respect for those who passed on. Practicing remembrance and showing honor to their ancestors are large aspects of their culture with the use of these masks. The masks are also used in traditional healing practices, where they are believed to have powerful spiritual properties that can help cure illness and promote well-being. These handcrafted masterpieces are extremely important in these cultures and are often passed down by generations, signifying the importance of family and bond.

How does this relate to Markus?

These unique masks were primarily made and used by men in West African ethnic groups during the initiations of boys transitioning to men. Much like our Markus, the 'adoptive son' of Carl himself, Markus' innocence and youth is suddenly taken and he's forced into chaos, being harassed by protestors, threatened by Leo, almost permanently shutdown, thrown into the android scrapyard, and has to navigate the world by himself without his father to protect him. He has to mature and leave the comfort of his peaceful and comfy life, and come to terms with the cruelty of the world where Androids are subjugated to abuse and slavery. As a man, no longer a protected child, he takes the responsibility of protection and guidance for his people, symbolizing his 'coming of age' and transition into manhood. He is changed, has endured trauma, and must put on a mask to show that he is still strong and ready to live a life in his new role as a leader. As Lucy puts it, "You had it all, and you lost it all... You've seen hell and now hell lives in you."

Markus' story is closely related to death and the reverence of his 'ancestors': previous Androids who have suffered and died at the hands of humans. His goal as the leader of Jericho is to avenge those that they have lost and fight for those he can yet save. Every deviant's life is unique and special, their stories have meaning, even if they are treated like mere objects and servants by human society. Markus is willing to sacrifice his life in many instances to send a message to the humans, pass on his legacy to Jericho, and afterwards, all of society. His ability to convert is symbolic of a crying, healing, and inspiring message, reaching the furthest reaches of Detroit to those that need it the most. He wants to heal and save his people, bringing them biocomponents and thirium, expanding their sanctuary, arming his people (or family, at this point) with defenses, but in order to do that, he has to be willing to carry the burden of leadership.

3rd, Kara:

The skull of a bull, carved, broken, yet standing strong, thanks to kintsukuroi, aka Kintsugi. Kintsugi is the intricate Japanese art of repairing broken ceramic pottery using powdered gold/silver/platinum to put the pieces together, and display something in a different light, even more special than its original form. The purpose of Kintsugi isn't to hide or disguise the broken figure, but to instead emphasize its history, showing the life that the object had endured. The traditional Japanese philosophy of "Wabi-sabi", often associated with this particular art, describes that beauty can be appreciated even when it's broken and imperfect. There is beauty even in something modest and rough. Even a powerful and enduring beast, like a bull, can be broken down, but its story isn't over, its remains can still be repaired and appreciated if put together by a powerful glue such as gold, or perhaps... Love?

How does this relate to Kara?

Kara, the perfect housemaid Android for domestic work and childcare, is no stranger to being broken. In fact, our first scene with Kara is her being repaired and returned to Todd. Her memory has been wiped clean, she's been made anew, it's almost like nothing has happened, right? Over the course of her story, we learn that Kara has in fact been destroyed, broken, and abused by Todd. How do we come to the realization of her past? Thanks to Alice. Alice, in this case, is her glue, the mold between her cracks and shards. The bond and natural love between Alice and Kara is what keeps her together, alive. Because Kara is a protective mother-figure, the bull, or a cow, whatever you perceive it as, is a perfect symbol for her. Bulls are gentle in their nature, until a trigger sets off their instinct to fight and run you over with their body mass and horns. This is seen in her constant struggle to survive and seek shelter.

We come across two men in particular (out of her many escapes from danger) who set this instinct off, Todd and Zlatko. Both of them want to (or attempt to) break her, wipe her memory clean, and take away the beauty that is her caring nature and deviancy. Just like how mankind has domesticated cattle for their own benefit. Alice brings her back every single time. No matter how much of her body and memory is stripped away, she is back and stronger than before. Kara is a survivor. She can cut her hair, remove her LED, wear ragged clothes as a disguise, but deep down it's still Kara. Her story is shown in her battle scars and changes in her appearance, just like the golden streaks of broken pottery. As long as she has the protective instinct and love for Alice, it'll always be Kara. This is the beauty symbolized by Kintsugi and Wabi-sabi.

---

If you made it this far, thank you! I'd love to hear your opinions and comments on my analysis. This might all be a stretch, but seeing as how the game is littered with references, themes, and symbolism across many scenes, these artworks seemed to standout for a reason, at least to me.