#since we know hes like that because of his heritage

[r4tfromm3rcury]

ninjago au where garmadon stays oni even during his sensei faze. Logically Garmadon would be nicer than in canon (at first) because he looks quite evil and would be compensating for that. However the tournament of elements would be an absolute bloodbath i imagine.

[sovamurka]

Just watched Фишер tv-series

Not me being horny again about Ivan Yankovsky

Listen, I don't understand how but somehow we came to the point where my entire generation is in love with him, his father (+ his wife Oksana Fandera) and his grandfather (rest in peace, Oleg Yankovsky, we still miss you so much)

[thecatundertheladder]

The Spinjitzu family should be actual royalty and I will not be taking criticism on that. Like I’m talking they have the power to veto any government decision in all of Ninjago. Garmadon and Wu don’t get involved with politics that often since their prefer to leave it up to the mortals.

Lloyd doesn’t know about it. Like at all. He finds out one morning at breakfast because he was sitting and thinking to hard about his heritage.

Lloyd: Grandpa is literally the guy who created Ninjago.

Wu: Yes.

Lloyd: So like, shouldn’t we have more power then? Like why aren’t we royalty or something.

Wu, deadpan: Lloyd, we are royalty.

Lloyd: WHAT

[huiyi07]

hey so do you guys ever think about how often Diluc is referred to as the ‘uncrowned king of Mondstadt’ since he’s like the only male heir to the noble families and like it or not, where Jean is the authority of the nation, he’s pretty much the symbolic face of Mondstadt and the values the nation projects— and despite his temperament, Diluc has learned to embrace it wholeheartedly. He’s charismatic, extremely righteous, and he blazes bright and gives the people of Mondstadt a fire that guides them in the dark, quite literally. Like he’s literally Bruce Wayne lmao

But he doesn’t want this, no, and here’s the proof- maybe he did, once upon a time, before everything happened— but he doesn’t really care about wine, he only cares about the winery because of the people in it and his father. He’s righteous but doesn’t give a damn about the rules and the knights of favonius. After what happened to him, he’s clearly a rebel at heart now, not some charming superhero who does everything expected of him, unlike before. In summary, Diluc was someone who was quite literally ready to become an (uncrowned) prince, pretty much royalty in every way except title- and on surface level, he still is, but he throws that mantle away in secret whenever he can.

And then look at Kaeya, his brother who’s always lived in his shadow. It’s easy to see that now, people don’t really project Mondstadt’s values onto Kaeya the same way they do onto Diluc, since lots of people hardly even remember that they’re brothers. And yeah people still think kaeya is reliable and nice, but also because of how Kaeya built his image after Diluc left— an excessively over the top personality that pretends to be sadistic, mean, and at the same time dripping with false charm. So despite that people still find him approachable and nice as expected of a knight, hardly anyone would call him befitting of a prince.

But Kaeya is actually so painfully and authentically ‘princely’ and kind, deep down— the way he deals with children, his fierce loyalty and willingness to protect people at all costs, his self sacrificial tendencies that most often appear for Diluc’s sake. Even the tidbits of lore we get about him scream aristocracy- his ‘ceremonial’ bladework, Alberich family secrets that reveal just how central they are to the kingdom of khaenriah. This is kinda obvious to any player who’s bothered to learn anything about kaeya, but to the characters in game, there are very few that know that side of him.

And whereas Diluc is forcibly projected the title of royalty and secretly rejects it, Kaeya was actually born into it- his family is very important to Khaenriah, and much like how he does with anything related to his past and heritage, he loudly and outwardly rejects anything to do with ‘royalty’. Diluc outwardly rejects what Kaeya shows (a darker, more ‘means justify the end’ nature), and Kaeya tries to hide what Diluc projects (a sophisticated and aristocratic upbringing).

Honestly? It’s as if they were swapped at birth. Kaeya’s real hidden nature, even after everything that happened to him, remains to be so unwavering and people-oriented, while Diluc’s true personality changed drastically over time. Not that Diluc isn’t unwavering or whatever, but Diluc mostly actively rejects relationships and prefers to do everything alone, obsessed with the idea that he doesn’t want anyone to get hurt, whereas Kaeya always, always yearns for companionship and for people to be by his side- solidarity.

Diluc is the poster image of royalty, but his brother who hides in the shadows is a real king. They complete each other, balance each other out, represent the parts that the other hides. I don’t know if hoyoverse always meant them to be that way, but damn they basically represent each other’s parts of themselves that they lost. Yin and Yang, two halves of the same whole.

[hisfavegirl]

The Edge of Desire - Jacaerys Velaryon x Wife!Reader.

Summary : You had entered his life like a storm sweeping through the desert sands. A princess of Dorne, your heritage was as fiery as the blood of Old Valyria that coursed through his veins. Your union had been born of political necessity—an alliance to strengthen Rhaenyra’s claim and solidify ties between the Targaryens and the Martells. But what began as duty quickly became something far deeper, far more consuming. Jace had not expected to fall so utterly, so fiercely. Yet with every smile, every glance, every whispered word exchanged beneath the stars, he found himself more ensnared by you. In you, he saw a partner, an equal, someone who challenged him and brought him peace in equal measure. And in him, you had found not just a husband but a man who would move the heavens and earth for you.

Word Count : 12,4k

Warning : just a lot of sex.

Jacaerys Velaryon Masterlist.

House Of The Dragon Masterlist.

and also big thanks to @zaldritzosrose for let me using yours beautiful dividers 🫶🏻.

The sound of crashing waves filled the air as you sat in the garden of Dragonstone, the salty breeze brushing against your skin. The sun was beginning to set, painting the sky in hues of orange and pink. The soft rustle of leaves mingled with the distant roars of dragons, creating a melody that had become the soundtrack of your days here.

Life had changed drastically since you married Jace. No longer the daughter living in the shadow of court politics, you were now the wife of the next heir to the Iron Throne, tied irrevocably to Rhaenyra’s cause. The weight of that knowledge rested heavily on your shoulders, but the solitude of the garden offered a brief reprieve.

You closed your eyes, savoring the moment of peace, until you felt the warmth of familiar arms wrapping around your waist.

A smile tugged at your lips even before you turned. You didn’t need to look to know who it was. “Jace,” you murmured softly, leaning back into his embrace.

“You always know it’s me,” he said with a quiet laugh, his chin resting on your shoulder.

You opened your eyes, gazing at the horizon. “Who else would it be? You’re the only one who sneaks up on me like this.”

Jace chuckled, his grip on you tightening slightly as he pressed a kiss to your temple. “It’s because I know where to find you. You’re always here.”

“Where else would I be?” you replied, your tone light. “Dragonstone isn’t exactly brimming with excitement.”

He pulled back slightly, just enough to turn you around so you were facing him. His dark brown eyes, so much like his mother’s, softened as he looked at you. “Are you unhappy here?”

You shook your head, reaching up to brush a strand of hair from his face. “No, Jace. I’m not unhappy. It’s just… different.”

“Different how?” he asked, his voice gentle.

You hesitated, searching for the right words. “I suppose I miss the familiarity of Sunspear's. The life I knew before. Here, everything feels so… heavy.”

Jace’s brows furrowed as he studied you. “If you’re unhappy, we can go back. I’ll speak to my mother—”

You placed a hand on his chest, cutting him off with a small smile. “It’s not that simple, Jace. This is our life now. Your life. One day, you’ll be king, and Dragonstone is just the beginning.”

He sighed, his hands resting on your waist. “You’re my wife. Your happiness matters just as much as any throne or crown.”

Your smile softened, touched by his sincerity. “And I am happy, Jace. As long as I’m with you, I’ll always find happiness.”

His expression eased at your words, and he leaned in to press a soft kiss to your lips. The kiss was gentle, a silent promise that no matter how heavy the burden of duty became, you would face it together.

When he pulled back, his lips curved into a small smile. “You always know what to say to calm me.”

“That’s because I know you better than anyone,” you replied teasingly, poking his chest lightly.

Jace laughed, catching your hand and intertwining his fingers with yours. “Come, let’s walk. The dragons have been restless today, and I want to make sure they haven’t decided to scorch the gardens.”

You laughed, allowing him to lead you through the winding paths of the garden, the sound of your joined laughter mingling with the roar of the dragons above. For now, the weight of the future could wait. Here, in this moment, it was just the two of you.

As you walked along the edge of the beach, the cool breeze tugged at your dress, the fabric flowing with the wind. The rhythmic sound of the waves crashing against the shore filled the air, but it was the darkness that slowly crept in around you that made the evening feel more intimate. The sky was turning a deep shade of blue, almost black, and the first stars began to twinkle overhead.

You shivered slightly, feeling the chill of the evening air seeping into your skin, and when you noticed Jace glancing at you, his eyes twinkling with a quiet amusement, you couldn't help but raise an eyebrow.

"What's so funny?" you asked, trying to ignore the slight tremor in your voice as you hugged your arms around yourself.

Jace chuckled softly, the warmth of his breath brushing against your ear as he leaned in. "You're wearing that dress, and it's cold enough to make me wonder if you've forgotten what season we're in."

You rolled your eyes but couldn't help the smile that tugged at your lips. "I'm fine, Jace. Let's go back to the castle. The cold doesn't bother me that much."

But he shook his head, his fingers brushing your exposed skin as he reached for you, pulling you closer with a gentle but firm tug.

"No, you're cold," he said softly, a mischievous glint in his eyes. "And I can't let my wife freeze, can I?"

Before you could protest, he enveloped you in his arms, drawing you into the warmth of his chest. His embrace was comforting, but you couldn't help but feel a flutter of excitement as he held you close. Jace's lips brushed against your forehead, a soft, teasing kiss, before his mouth trailed down to meet yours.

The kiss was tender at first, a quiet exploration, but it deepened as his hands slid to the small of your back, pressing you closer.

The cold wind still whipped around you, but with Jace's warmth surrounding you, it seemed to vanish entirely. Your breath hitched, and without thinking, you responded, your arms winding around his neck, pulling him even closer.

Jace's kiss grew more insistent, and you could feel the pressure building as his hands roamed, tracing the curves of your body through the thin fabric of your dress. The gentle sound of the waves crashing on the shore was drowned out by the beat of your own hearts, racing in the quiet night.

"Jace..." you murmured between kisses, your voice shaky. You pulled back slightly, looking up into his eyes, dark and full of desire. "It's getting late, and people will wonder where we are."

His breath was ragged as he gazed down at you, a playful smile tugging at his lips. "Let them wonder," he whispered. "Let them talk." He kissed you again, his hands sliding lower, demanding more from you, more of your trust, your willingness. His touch was gentle but filled with a quiet power, pulling you deeper into the moment.

You couldn't deny him, not when he looked at you like that, when his touch made you feel like you were the only person in the world. The cold air seemed so far away now, replaced by the warmth of his body against yours, and the promise of what could come next.

"Jace….." you breathed, your voice catching in your throat, torn between the need to go back and the desire to stay. "We can't... not out here."

But Jace's smile only widened, and with a playful glint in his eye, he kissed you once more, pressing his lips firmly against yours.

"Why not?" he murmured against your lips. "What's wrong with the night? The world is ours, and right now, I want you to be mine, completely."

His words made your heart race even faster, and though a part of you knew you should stop, another part of you couldn't resist. You melted into him, your worries forgotten for just a moment, as you let yourself be consumed by the warmth of his touch, the passion in his Kiss.

The sound of the waves crashing against the rocks echoed faintly as Jace led you toward a hidden cave at the edge of the beach. The soft glow of the moonlight barely illuminated the entrance, casting long shadows that made the space feel secluded, almost like your own private world.

"Jace, what are we doing here?" you asked, a mix of curiosity and nervous excitement in your voice.

He glanced back at you with a sly smile, his hand firmly holding yours. "We need a little privacy, don't we? The castle is too full of eyes and ears."

Before you could respond, he turned and pulled you gently into the dim cave, the air cooler here but somehow charged with a tension that made your pulse quicken. You barely had a moment to take in your surroundings before Jace's hands were on you, his lips capturing yours in a fervent kiss.

Your back pressed against the rough surface of the cave wall, but you hardly noticed the discomfort with the way Jace was holding you. His hands slid to your waist, pulling you flush against him as his lips moved hungrily against yours.

"Jace..." you murmured against his lips, your voice trembling with a mix of need and uncertainty.

He pulled back slightly, his dark eyes locking with yours, filled with both tenderness and desire. "Do you want me to stop?" he asked, his voice husky. You shook your head, your breath catching as his hands tightened on your hips. "No, don't stop..."

That was all the encouragement he needed. His lips found yours again, and his hands roamed your back, holding you close as if he couldn't bear to let you go. When he kissed the corner of your mouth and trailed his lips down to your neck, you couldn't help the soft gasp that escaped you.

"You're so beautiful," he murmured against your skin, his voice thick with emotion. "Every time I look at you, I feel like l'm losing control."

His words sent a shiver down your spine, and you arched slightly against him, your hands clutching at his shoulders. "Jace... someone might notice we're gone..."

He smirked, his lips brushing the sensitive spot just below your ear. "Let them notice. Let them wonder where we are. I don't care."

His hands slid to your waist, pulling you even closer as he continued to kiss you, his lips and tongue leaving a trail of heat along your skin.

The rough texture of the rocks behind you only heightened the intensity of the moment, grounding you in the reality of his touch.

You let out a soft sigh as his lips returned to yours, your hands finding their way to his hair, tugging gently as you lost yourself in the moment. The cave, the beach, the entire world outside seemed to fade away, leaving only the two of you.

"Jace..." you whispered, your voice barely audible as his lips hovered just above yours.

"Yes?" he asked, his voice deep and laced with affection as he gazed at you. You searched his eyes, seeing the love and devotion there, and smiled softly. "I love you."

His expression softened, and he leaned in to kiss you again, this time slower, more deliberate, as if savoring every second. When he finally pulled back, he rested his forehead against yours, his hands cupping your face.

"And I love you," he said, his voice steady and filled with certainty. "More than anything."

The cold night air brushed against your exposed skin as Jace's hands worked skillfully, peeling away the layers of your gown with deliberate care. His lips never left yours, the heat of his kiss contrasting sharply with the cool breeze. You gasped softly into his mouth, your breath hitching as the wind sent a shiver through you, but his touch was there-warm, reassuring, and full of promise.

"Are you cold?" Jace murmured against your lips, his voice thick with concern and something darker, more possessive.

You shook your head slightly, your fingers tracing over the planes of his chest as you tugged at the tunic he wore. "Not when you're here," you whispered, your voice trembling slightly, both from the chill and the fire building between you.

He smirked, his hands steady as he slid the gown from your shoulders, his fingers grazing your skin and leaving a trail of heat in their wake. "Good," he said, his tone low and rough. "I don't want you thinking about anything but me right now."

You leaned up to kiss him again, your lips brushing against his in a way that was both tender and insistent. His tunic finally slipped from his shoulders, and you let your hands explore the hard lines of his chest, the muscles beneath his skin flexing under your touch.

"Jace," you whispered, your voice barely audible over the sound of the waves crashing against the shore.

He paused, his dark eyes locking onto yours, his expression softening for a moment as he took you in. "Yes, love?"

You hesitated, your cheeks flushing slightly. "! just... I want this. I want you."

His eyes darkened, and the corner of his mouth quirked up in a satisfied smirk. "You've always had me," he replied, his voice husky. "And you always will."

With that, he lowered you gently onto the sand, his hands cradling you as if you were something precious. The rough texture of the sand beneath you was a sharp contrast to the warmth of his body as he hovered over you, his gaze sweeping over you with a hunger that sent a thrill through your entire being.

"You're beautiful," he murmured, his voice filled with awe. His fingers trailed lightly down your side, leaving a tingling sensation in their wake.

You squirmed slightly under his touch, your breath hitching as his hand moved with agonizing slowness. "Jace... stop teasing me," you managed to say, your voice shaking with both frustration and anticipation.

He chuckled softly, the sound low and rumbling in his chest. "Patience, my love," he said, leaning down to press a kiss to the hollow of your throat. "I want to savor every moment of this."

His lips continued their slow journey along your neck, his kisses leaving a trail of heat that seemed to seep into your very soul. You arched into him, your hands tangling in his hair as you pulled him closer, desperate for more.

"Jace," you murmured again, your voice a soft plea.

He pulled back slightly to look at you, his expression a mix of love and desire. "I'm here," he said, his voice steady. "I'm yours. Always."

As he lowered himself back down, his lips finding yours in a kiss that was both passionate and tender, you felt the rest of the world fade away. There was only Jace, his touch, his warmth, his love. And in that moment, nothing else mattered.

The sound of the waves crashing against the shore was drowned out by your heavy breaths and soft cries of pleasure. Your fingers tangled in Jace's hair, pulling him closer as his lips continued their agonizingly tender assault on your most sensitive spot. His hands gripped your thighs, keeping you in place, refusing to let you escape the intensity of his attention.

"Jace," you gasped, your voice breaking as your body trembled under his relentless ministrations. "Please... I can't—"

He lifted his gaze, his dark eyes locking onto yours with a mischievous glint. His lips glistened, and he smirked as if pleased by your desperate state. "You can," he murmured, his voice low and soothing. "I know you can. Let go for me, my love."

Your head fell back against the cool sand, your body arching as another wave of pleasure crashed over you. You moaned his name, your voice high and breathless, and he hummed in satisfaction, the vibrations sending shivers down your spine.

"Jace, please," you begged, your voice trembling with need. "I can't take anymore."

He chuckled softly, the sound deep and filled with amusement. "Oh, but you can," he replied, his hands sliding up to grip your waist firmly. "You're stronger than you think, and I want to see just how far I can take you."

Your nails raked across his scalp, and he groaned softly at the sensation, his lips never leaving your skin. Every nerve in your body felt like it was on fire, your senses overwhelmed by the intensity of his touch.

"Jace," you whimpered, your voice breaking as tears pricked at the corners of your eyes.

He finally slowed his movements, pressing soft kisses to your trembling thighs before climbing up your body. His hands cupped your cheeks as he leaned down to kiss you, his lips gentle and tender against yours.

"You're incredible," he murmured against your lips, his voice filled with adoration. "Do you feel how amazing you are? How perfect you are for me?" You nodded weakly, your body still trembling from the aftershocks of your release.

As the night wrapped around you like a velvet blanket, the sound of the waves crashing on the shore was drowned by the quiet, intimate sounds shared between you and Jace. His body pressed closer to yours, his touch tender yet filled with the kind of passion that only he could give you.

You gasped softly as you felt him trace the inside of your thigh, his fingers grazing your skin with care. Your breathing hitched when he positioned himself and slowly, carefully, entered you. The warmth and connection were instant, making you both moan in unison at the feeling of being so utterly connected.

"Gods," Jace murmured, his voice low and shaky as he leaned down to kiss the corner of your lips. "You're perfect, every part of you."

Your legs instinctively wrapped around his waist, drawing him closer, making him groan deeply. His head rested in the crook of your neck as he started to move, his pace deliberate and gentle, his touch worshipful.

You arched your back to meet his rhythm, your hands gliding over the hard muscles of his back, nails grazing his skin lightly.

"Jace," you whispered breathlessly, your voice filled with longing. "I-"

"I know," he cut you off softly, his lips brushing against your ear as he increased his pace just slightly. "I feel it too."

He kissed your collarbone, his hands gripping your waist as he adjusted the angle slightly, making you gasp loudly. Your fingers tangled in his dark hair, tugging gently, earning a deep groan from him that sent a shiver down your spine.

"You're mine," he said, his voice rough with possession as he pulled back to look at you, his amber eyes blazing with intensity. "All of you. Forever."

His movements became quicker, more desperate, as though he couldn't get enough of you. You felt overwhelmed by the intensity, your body trembling as you clung to him, utterly powerless beneath his gaze and his touch.

"Jace-" you moaned his name, your voice breaking as the pleasure built inside you like a tidal wave.

He growled softly at the sound of his name on your lips, his hands gripping your hips firmly as he drove into you with more urgency. The raw need in his eyes only fueled the fire in your own body.

"You don't know what you do to me," he rasped, his voice thick as he watched you fall apart beneath him. "I lose myself in you, every time."

Your nails dug into his shoulders as the overwhelming pleasure tipped you over the edge, and you cried out his name, your entire body trembling as you reached your peak.

Jace's movements became more forceful, more urgent, and every thrust sent waves of pleasure coursing through your trembling body. You gasped his name as his grip on you tightened, his pace relentless.

His hand found yours, his fingers intertwining with your own as he pinned it above your head. With his other hand, he cupped your cheek, his thumb brushing lightly over your skin before tilting your face to meet his intense gaze.

"Look at me," Jace demanded, his voice low and gravelly. The authority in his tone sent a shiver down your spine, and you obeyed, your eyes fluttering open to meet his. His amber eyes burned with a mix of desire and pride, a smirk tugging at his lips as he watched you, utterly undone beneath him.

"You're breathtaking," he murmured, his voice softening for a moment before his expression shifted into something darker, more possessive. "My wife. My princess. And look at you now... completely at my mercy."

You whimpered softly at his words, your body responding helplessly to his every touch and movement. Jace's laughter was low and deep as he leaned down, brushing his lips against your ear.

"The mighty princess of Dorne," he whispered, his breath hot against your skin. "Reduced to this... trembling and begging beneath me. Do you know how much I love seeing you like this? Completely mine."

You couldn't respond, your voice stolen by the overwhelming sensations flooding through you. All you could do was cling to him, your body arching to meet his rhythm as he continued to push you closer to the edge.

Jace's hand on your cheek slid down to your neck, his thumb pressing lightly against your pulse point as his smirk widened. "You were made for this," he growled. "For me. Say it."

You managed to whisper, "I'm yours, Jace... yours to claim, to ruin."

His eyes darkened at your words, and his grip on your neck tightened slightly-not enough to hurt, but enough to make you feel the power he held over you. "Good girl," he muttered, his voice dripping with satisfaction.

Moments later, your body betrayed you, shattering under his relentless pace. You cried out his name, your body trembling violently as the waves of pleasure consumed you. Jace wasn't far behind, his movements becoming erratic as he chased his own release.

With one final thrust, he groaned your name, his body shuddering against yours as he found his peak. He stayed there for a moment, his forehead resting against yours as the two of you caught your breath.

"You're mine," Jace whispered again, his tone softer now, filled with a deep affection that contrasted with the raw intensity from moments before. "Always mine."

You nodded weakly, your body spent and your heart full. "Always," you whispered back, your voice barely audible but filled with conviction.

Jace smiled, brushing a strand of hair from your damp forehead before leaning down to press a gentle kiss to your lips. As the waves outside continued to crash against the shore, the two of you lay tangled together, lost in the warmth of each other's embrace.

As you tried to catch your breath, you felt Jace stir beneath you, his body once again responding to yours. A soft chuckle escaped his lips as he shifted, his strong arms gently guiding you to sit atop him. His hands lingered on your hips, holding you steady as he gazed up at you, his eyes a mix of unbridled desire and tender affection.

"Looks like you're not done yet, my love," Jace murmured, his voice low and teasing. He brushed his thumb over your breast, his smirk growing wider. "You wanted to ride a dragon, didn't you? Now's your chance."

Your cheeks flushed at his words, and he laughed softly, his hands encouraging you to move. Tentatively, you began to shift your hips, eliciting a low groan from him as your movements brought the two of you closer again.

"That's it," he whispered, his voice strained with pleasure. "Take your time. Show me how much you want me."

You couldn't help but smirk down at him, placing your hands on his chest for balance as you started to move with more confidence.

Each roll of your hips drew a deep, guttural sound from Jace, his hands gripping your waist to guide you as he gazed up at you in awe.

"You're... incredible," he breathed, his amber eyes never leaving yours. "Do you have any idea what you do to me? How perfect you look right now?"

You smiled shyly at his praise but didn't stop, your movements becoming more deliberate as you found a rhythm that sent waves of pleasure coursing through both of you. Jace's hands roamed up and down your sides, his touch setting your skin alight as he leaned up slightly, capturing your lips in a searing kiss.

Breaking away just enough to speak, he murmured against your lips, "You're the only one who could ever make me feel this way. My wife, my princess, my everything."

His words spurred you on, and you moved faster, drawing a low growl from him. Jace's head tilted back slightly, his eyes fluttering closed as he let himself get lost in the sensation. "Gods, you're amazing," he muttered, his voice rough.

You leaned forward, your lips brushing against his ear as you whispered, "I'm yours, Jace."

At your words, his eyes snapped open, and his grip on your waist tightened. "Say it again," he demanded, his voice filled with both passion and possession.

"I'm yours," you repeated, your voice trembling with emotion as you met his gaze.

Jace let out a deep groan, his hands guiding your movements as his hips rose to meet yours. "Good girl," he murmured, his voice laced with pride and love. "You were made for me."

Jace let out a low growl, his hands gripping your waist as he shifted your position effortlessly. In an instant, he had you beneath him, his body pressing against yours as he moved with swift and deliberate precision. Without hesitation, he buried himself deep within you, drawing a sharp gasp from your lips as his movements became rougher, more demanding.

Your fingers found their way to his shoulders, clutching him tightly as your back arched, your body responding to his intensity. The sound of your heavy breaths and desperate moans filled the air, mingling with the faint crash of waves in the distance.

"Jace," you managed to gasp, your voice trembling as his pace quickened, each thrust powerful and unrelenting.

His eyes locked onto yours, darkened with a mix of love and lust. "You're mine," he growled, his voice rough and filled with raw emotion. "No one else will ever get to see you like this, hear you like this."

You nodded frantically, your body trembling beneath him as his words sent shivers down your spine. "only you Jace," you whispered, your voice barely audible over the sound of your shared passion.

A smirk tugged at his lips as he gazed down at you, his movements never faltering. His hands roamed your body, memorizing every curve, every reaction as he drove you higher and higher. "Look at you," he murmured, his tone almost reverent. "So perfect, so beautiful, and all mine."

Your head tilted back, a loud moan escaping your lips as he shifted slightly, his movements becoming even more precise. The sensation was overwhelming, and you clung to him as waves of pleasure coursed through you.

Jace leaned down, his lips brushing against your ear as he whispered, "I love the way your body responds to me. The way you give yourself to me so completely."

Jace growled low in his throat as his movements became more forceful, each thrust a deliberate reminder that you belonged to him and no one else. "You're mine," he hissed through clenched teeth, his hand gripping your waist tightly, pulling you back against him.

Each powerful motion sent waves of pleasure crashing through your body, making your moans echo across the quiet shoreline. Your fingers dug into the sand, your body trembling beneath him as you gasped, "Jace, I... I can't—"

"You can," he interrupted sharply, his voice thick with dominance and desire. "You will. You'll take all of me because you're mine."

Before you could catch your breath, he shifted suddenly, flipping you over so that your chest pressed against the cold, damp sand. You barely had time to adjust before he entered you again, filling you completely with a sharp, relentless thrust that left you crying out his name.

"Look at you," he growled, his hand tangling in your hair, pulling your head back just enough to prevent your face from pressing into the gritty surface below. "You're perfect like this— right where you belong. Beneath me. Completely mine."

Your body trembled at his words, his deep, possessive tone weaving through the haze of pleasure that clouded your mind. "Jace... please..." you begged, though you weren't even sure what you were pleading for.

He smirked, his free hand gripping your hip to keep you steady as he thrust into you harder, faster. "Please what, my love?" he taunted, his voice low and teasing. "Tell me what you want. Say it."

"I'm yours," you gasped, the words spilling from your lips without hesitation. "I belong to you, Jace."

"That's right," he murmured, satisfaction lacing his tone as he leaned over you, his chest brushing against your back. His lips grazed your ear, sending shivers down your spine. "You'll always be mine. No one else can ever touch you like this."

His hand slid from your hair to your shoulder, holding you firmly in place as he continued to take you with an intensity that left you breathless. Your cries grew louder, blending with the sound of the waves crashing against the shore, the rhythm of his movements driving you closer and closer to the edge.

"Come for me," he commanded, his voice a rough whisper against your ear. "Let go, my love. Show me you're mine."

With one final thrust, your body gave in, the overwhelming pleasure pulling you under as your release shattered through you. Your cry of ecstasy echoed into the night, and Jace wasn't far behind, his groan of satisfaction vibrating through you as he followed you over the edge.

He collapsed over you, his arms wrapping around your waist as you both panted, trying to catch your breath. For a moment, the world was still, the only sound the gentle lapping of waves against the shore.

Jace shifted slightly, pulling you into his arms as he whispered, "You're mine, now and always. Don't ever forget that."

You nodded weakly, resting your head against his chest as the warmth of his body shielded you from the cool night air. "I'll never forget," you murmured, your voice soft but certain.

As the two of you lay together on the sandy shore, wrapped in each other's embrace, you felt a deep sense of belonging that no words could ever fully capture. Jace's arms were wrapped tightly around you, his chest pressed firmly against your back as the cold sand beneath you made you shiver.

His warmth was a comfort, but your body was trembling from exhaustion, your breathing uneven from everything he had already put you through.

You felt his hand trail down your leg, gripping your thigh as he lifted it slightly. The movement sent a jolt through your already tired body. "Jace.." you whispered weakly, your voice barely audible over the sound of the waves. "Please... I can't. Not anymore..."

He chuckled softly, the sound low and husky in your ear. "You can," he murmured, his breath warm against your skin. "You're strong, my love. You were made for me-for this."

"Jace, no," you pleaded, your hand weakly gripping his wrist as he positioned himself behind you. "I'm so tired... Please..."

But he didn't stop. Slowly, deliberately, he began to move again, his motions gentle but unrelenting. "You can take it," he said softly, his lips brushing against your ear. "You're mine. You were made to take everything I give you."

You whimpered, your body responding to him despite your exhaustion. His free hand trailed along your waist, his fingers tracing patterns on your skin as he whispered, "You're perfect like this. So soft, so beautiful... and all mine."

Tears pricked at the corners of your eyes as your body surrendered to him once more.

"Jace... I..."

"Shh," he interrupted, his voice soothing but firm. "No more protests. Just let me take care of you."

His movements remained slow and calculated, each one sending waves of both pleasure and frustration through you. Your body was exhausted, but the way he touched you, the way he moved, made it impossible to resist him.

"You feel that?" he murmured, his voice thick with emotion. "This is us. This is how we're meant to be. Together. Always."

You could only nod weakly, your body melting into his as he continued to move. He pressed a kiss to your shoulder, his hand gripping your hip tightly as he pulled you closer to him.

"I love you," he whispered, his voice breaking slightly as his pace quickened. "And I'll never let you go. You're mine, now and forever."

His words sent a shiver down your spine, and despite your exhaustion, you found yourself clinging to him, your body responding to his every move. As the waves crashed against the shore, you lost yourself in him once more, your heart and soul entirely his.

The cold air wrapped around you, but it was nothing compared to the heat of Jace's body pressed against yours. Your limbs were heavy, your strength long gone, yet Jace's frustration drove him forward. His hands gripped your hips tightly as he pulled you onto his lap, your back flush against his chest, and you could feel his ragged breaths against your neck.

"Jace..." you whimpered weakly, your voice trembling. "Please... I-"

He silenced you with a sharp thrust, pulling a loud cry from your lips as your head fell back onto his shoulder. His laughter was low and rough, resonating against your skin as he pressed a kiss to the side of your neck. "You're too perfect when you're like this," he murmured, his voice filled with both adoration and desperation. "I can't stop-not when you're mine like this."

Your fingers clawed at his thighs, searching for something to anchor yourself as he moved faster and deeper, his pace merciless. Every movement sent waves of pleasure crashing over you, his name falling from your lips in broken cries.

"Jace... it's too much," you pleaded, but your body betrayed you, arching against him as he hit that perfect spot once again.

He chuckled darkly, his hands sliding from your hips to wrap around your stomach, holding you in place as he drove into you. "Too much?" he teased, his voice dripping with mockery. "Yet here you are, clenching around me, begging for more with every little sound you make."

You shook your head, tears forming in your eyes as the intensity overwhelmed you. "Jace, please..."

"Please what?" he growled, his lips brushing against your ear. "Do you want me to stop? To let you go?"

"No!" you gasped, your voice cracking as your hands flew to his arms, gripping them tightly. "Don't stop... just... don't stop..."

"That's what I thought," he said with a triumphant smirk, his pace growing even more brutal. "You're mine, love. No one else gets to see you like this, to hear those sounds you make, to feel you like this. Just me."

Your body trembled uncontrollably, his words and actions pushing you closer to the edge.

Jace groaned as he felt you tighten around him, his grip on you tightening as well. "That's it," he growled. "Let go for me. Scream for me. Show me you're mine"

With one final thrust, the pleasure consumed you, and your cries echoed through the air as you fell apart in his arms. Jace followed soon after, his deep groan filling your ears as he buried himself inside you one last time.

You collapsed against him, your body limp and shaking, but he didn't let go. Instead, he held you close, pressing soft kisses to your shoulder and neck as your breathing slowly returned to normal. "You're perfect," he murmured against your skin. "Everything about you is mine, and I'll never let you go."

You nodded weakly, too drained to respond with words. In his arms, even amidst the overwhelming sensations, you felt safe. For better or worse, you were his, and he made sure you never forgot it.

The first light of dawn filtered through the mouth of the cave, casting faint golden rays against the rugged walls. You caught a glimpse of it as your gaze wandered, but Jace wasn't interested in the approaching day.

His focus remained solely on you. His breaths were heavy and filled with determination as he stood, his strong arms lifting your exhausted body as if you weighed nothing.

"Jace.." you murmured, your voice weak but laced with exhaustion and yearning.

He didn't answer. Instead, his lips grazed your ear, and he whispered, "I'm not done with you yet."

The words sent a shiver down your spine as he adjusted your legs around his waist, holding you tightly against him. Your body responded instinctively, and your head fell onto his shoulder as he positioned himself once more.

The moment he entered you, a loud gasp escaped your lips. The new angle made you feel every inch of him, and your arms clung tightly around his neck for support. Jace groaned deeply, his face buried in the crook of your neck as he began to move. Each thrust was firm, deep, and deliberate, his pace quickening as he felt your body adjust to his.

Your head tilted back slightly, resting against the cool rock wall as the sensations coursed through you. "Jace... we shouldn't..." you managed to say between gasps, your words faltering under the overwhelming pleasure.

"Shouldn't?" he repeated, his voice rough with amusement and desire. His hips snapped forward, making you cry out. "You think I care about what we should or shouldn't do right now? The world can wait, but I won't."

His strength was unrelenting, and the way he moved left you at his mercy. He held you steady, his hands gripping your thighs as your back pressed against the cave wall. The harsh texture of the stone was softened by the warmth of his body shielding you, and though the position should've been uncomfortable, the sensations were too intense for you to focus on anything else.

"You're mine," Jace growled, his teeth grazing your shoulder as his movements became faster and rougher. "Every part of you belongs to me. Don't ever forget that."

Your cries filled the cave, blending with the sound of the distant waves crashing against the shore outside. "I-I won't," you stammered, your voice trembling as you struggled to hold onto any coherent thought. "I'm yours, Jace. Only yours."

Hearing your admission sent him over the edge, his groans growing louder as he pounded into you with abandon. He could feel your body trembling, your walls tightening around him as another wave of pleasure threatened to overwhelm you. "That's it," he whispered harshly. "Let go for me again."

You couldn't hold back. With a loud, shuddering cry, you surrendered to the euphoria, your entire body quaking in his arms.

Jace followed closely behind, his release spilling into you as he held you tightly against him. His breathing was ragged, his face buried in your neck as he slowly came down from his high.

The world was silent except for the sound of your labored breaths. Jace shifted slightly, keeping you in his arms as he stepped away from the wall and gently lowered you onto the soft sand. He hovered over you, brushing a strand of hair from your face as he gazed down at you with a mixture of love and pride.

"You're incredible," he murmured, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead. "I don't think I'll ever get enough of you."

You managed a weak smile, your fingers brushing against his cheek. "The sun's up," you said softly, your voice still shaky. "They'll wonder where we are..."

"Let them wonder," Jace replied with a smirk, leaning down to capture your lips in another slow, lingering kiss. "For now, you're mine. And I'm not letting you go."

It had been hours since the first light of dawn broke through the mouth of the cave, yet Jace showed no signs of exhaustion. His pace was relentless, his movements fast and rough, leaving you utterly at his mercy.

Your body was weak and trembling beneath him, each thrust sending shockwaves through your already overstimulated senses. You could barely catch your breath, your cries of pleasure and frustration filling the cave as you clung to him for support.

"Jace... please," you whimpered, your voice hoarse from the constant moans and cries he'd drawn from you. Tears pricked the corners of your eyes, both from the overwhelming sensations and the sheer intensity of his movements. "I can't... I can't take it anymore."

But Jace only laughed, the sound low and rough, filled with satisfaction as he watched you fall apart beneath him. His dark eyes were full of desire as he leaned closer, his lips brushing against your ear. "Look at you," he murmured, his voice thick with pride. "Completely ruined. All because of me. Do you know how beautiful you look like this? So weak, so vulnerable... so mine."

You tried to respond, but the words caught in your throat as another wave of pleasure crashed over you. Your back arched off the sand, your fingers clutching at his shoulders as he continued his merciless pace. Jace groaned deeply, clearly reveling in the way your body responded to him despite your exhaustion.

"Stop? You're asking me to stop now?" he taunted, his tone playful yet dominating. His hands gripped your hips tightly, pulling you closer to him as he moved even deeper. "Not until you've given me everything. Every last cry, every last moan... every last piece of you."

You could only gasp in response, your head falling back as the sensations overwhelmed you. Your body felt like it was on fire, every nerve ending alive and tingling as he pushed you to the edge once again. "Jace... I can't..." you whispered, tears streaming down your face as your body trembled beneath him.

But he was unrelenting. His lips found your neck, peppering it with rough kisses and sharp bites as his hands explored your body. "Yes, you can," he growled against your skin. "You were made for this. Made for me. And you'll take everything I give you."

You cried out again as he adjusted his angle, hitting a spot that made you see stars. Your walls clenched tightly around him, drawing a deep groan from his lips. He was close, you could feel it in the way his movements became even more frantic, his breathing heavy and uneven.

"That's it," he rasped, his voice filled with both urgency and desperation. "Come for me again. One more time. Let me feel you fall apart around me."

You had no choice but to obey. With a loud, shuddering cry, you surrendered to the pleasure, your body convulsing as waves of ecstasy washed over you. Jace followed moments later, his groan echoing in the cave as he buried himself deep within you, his release warm and overwhelming.

For a moment, neither of you moved, both of you breathing heavily as the intensity of the moment began to fade. Jace finally collapsed beside you, pulling you into his arms as he pressed a kiss to your damp forehead. "You're perfect," he whispered, his voice filled with a tenderness that contradicted the roughness of his actions moments ago.

You managed a weak smile, your fingers brushing against his cheek. "You're insatiable," you murmured, your voice barely audible.

"And you wouldn't have me any other way," Jace replied with a smirk, his fingers gently tracing patterns along your back. "Rest now, my love. Because when we return to the castle, I'll remind you all over again who you belong to."

The soft light of dawn illuminated the path as Jace carefully helped you into your gown. His hands were gentle, his touch lingering on your skin as he adjusted the fabric to ensure it sat perfectly. Once you were dressed, he bent down and scooped you up into his arms without hesitation.

Your legs were far too weak to carry you back to the castle after everything the two of you had shared that night. You sighed softly, resting your head against his shoulder, hiding your face in the crook of his neck as he began the journey back.

The air was still and cool as the two of you entered the grand hall of Dragonstone. The moment you stepped inside, the familiar voices of Rhaenyra and Daemon echoed through the chamber. They were engaged in quiet conversation by the fire, but their words trailed off the moment they noticed the two of you.

Rhaenyra’s eyes narrowed slightly as she took in the sight of you in Jace’s arms, your cheeks flushed and your head tucked against his shoulder. Beside her, Daemon arched a brow, a knowing smirk tugging at the corners of his lips. The two exchanged a glance, one filled with unspoken understanding, before their expressions shifted into subtle amusement.

“Finally decided to return, have you?” Rhaenyra said, her tone light but tinged with a teasing edge. Her eyes sparkled with mischief as she folded her arms across her chest. “I was beginning to wonder if you two had gotten lost on the beach.”

Jace didn’t stop or even acknowledge her words. He strode past them without pause, his focus solely on you. “She needs rest,” he said simply, his voice firm yet protective. “It’s been a… long night.”

Daemon let out a low chuckle, shaking his head as he watched the two of you disappear down the corridor. “A long night indeed,” he murmured under his breath, his smirk growing wider. Rhaenyra glanced at him, her lips twitching as she suppressed a laugh of her own.

“Young love,” she said softly, though there was warmth in her voice.

Back in your shared chambers, Jace gently laid you down on the bed, brushing a strand of hair away from your face as you looked up at him with tired eyes. “You should’ve let me walk,” you murmured, your voice barely above a whisper.

He shook his head, leaning down to press a soft kiss to your forehead. “Not a chance,” he said firmly. “You’re mine to take care of. Now rest, my love. You’ll need your strength for tonight.”

You let out a soft laugh despite your exhaustion, reaching up to cup his cheek. “You’re insufferable,” you teased, though there was nothing but affection in your tone.

“And you’re perfect,” he replied with a small smile, his hand covering yours. “Now sleep.”

You stirred awake, the hazy remnants of sleep still clouding your mind. It wasn't the soft rays of sunlight filtering through the curtains that had woken you but the gentle movements of your body. Blinking slowly, you opened your eyes, your vision adjusting to the dimly lit chamber.

Jace was there, his body hovering over yours, his face illuminated by a tender, almost reverent expression. He moved with slow, deliberate care, as if afraid that he might disturb you from your rest. Yet the sensations coursing through your body betrayed him, pulling you fully from your slumber. You let out a moan, involuntary sigh, and your fingers instinctively reached up to brush against his cheek.

His lips curled into a lopsided smile as his eyes met yours. "I was trying not to wake you," he murmured, his voice low and warm, carrying a tinge of amusement. His hand caressed the curve of your side, his thumb drawing soft circles on your skin, sending shivers down your spine.

"You call this not waking me?" you whispered breathlessly, your voice barely audible as you felt his every touch, every movement. There was no annoyance in your tone, only a teasing edge as you gazed up at him with tired but adoring eyes.

He chuckled softly, the sound vibrating in his chest as he leaned down, brushing his lips lightly against your temple. "You looked too peaceful, too beautiful," he confessed, his breath warm against your skin. "I couldn't help myself. It's impossible to resist you."

You moan again, your body relaxing beneath his as your fingers slid into his hair, tugging gently. "You're impossible," you said, though your words lacked any real weight. Instead, they were laced with affection, your heart swelling at the sight of him looking down at you with such devotion.

Jace's movements remained slow, tender, as if savoring every moment, every sound you made. His hand traveled down to rest on your waist, gripping you gently as he tilted his head, his lips trailing soft kisses along your jawline. "I should've stopped," he murmured against your skin, his voice dropping to a husky whisper. "But the way you looked, lying there so serene... it drove me mad."

He let out a quiet laugh, your nails grazing his scalp as you closed your eyes, leaning into the feeling of his lips on your skin. "You're incorrigible," you teased, your words faltering slightly as his hand found a new spot to explore, his touch making your breath hitch.

"But I suppose... I don't mind."

His grin widened at your response, his lips finding yours in a slow, lingering kiss. "Good," he whispered against your mouth, his voice thick with affection and desire. "Because I'll never stop wanting you-not in the quiet of the morning, not in the dead of night. You're mine."

"Yours," you echoed, the word spilling from your lips as you gazed up at him, your hand cradling his face.

He pressed his forehead against yours, his movements steady and sure as he wrapped you in his love, leaving you both breathless, lost in the quiet intimacy of the early morning light.

Your gaze shifted toward the open window, where the sun hung high in the sky—a clear sign that morning had long passed. Before you could dwell on the thought, your attention was abruptly pulled back by a sharp, deliberate thrust from Jace, causing your body to arch slightly beneath him.

"Eyes on me," he murmured, his tone commanding yet laced with affection. His smile was both playful and possessive as he leaned closer, his hands gripping your hips firmly to keep you in place. "You don't get to drift away, my love—not when I have you like this."

You let out a soft whimper, your body surrendering entirely to him. His movements grew faster, each one more deliberate than the last. There was no hesitation, no restraint, just the steady rhythm of his devotion and desire.

"That's it," he praised, his voice warm and teasing as he watched your every reaction, his smile broadening at the sight of you. "You're so good for me... so obedient."

Your breath hitched at his words, your hands clutching the sheets beneath you as he continued. Jace noticed every little movement you made, the way your body responded to him without hesitation. It only encouraged him further, his grip tightening as he pushed deeper, faster, his focus entirely on you.

"Jace," you gasped, his name falling from your lips like a prayer.

"That's right," he replied, his voice thick with pride and hunger. "Say my name. Let me hear it, love."

His pace quickened, his thrusts hitting a spot that made your body shudder uncontrollably.

You arched your back, pressing into him as a wave of pleasure coursed through you. Jace leaned down, his lips brushing against your ear as he chuckled softly.

"You're perfect," he whispered, his breath warm against your skin. "My perfect wife... always so willing to give herself to me. I'll never get enough of you."

You could barely form a coherent response, your body consumed by the sensations he was drawing out of you. All you could do was hold on, your hands sliding up to grip his arms for support.

Jace's movements grew rougher, his determination evident in every powerful thrust. He groaned lowly, his voice thick with pleasure. "Look at you," he said, his tone tinged with adoration. "So beautiful, so utterly mine."

The room filled with the sounds of your ragged breaths and his deep groans, your body trembling beneath him as he brought you closer to the edge once more. With one final, deliberate motion, he sent you spiraling, your body arching beneath him as a cry of pleasure escaped your lips.

Jace slowed his movements slightly, his forehead resting against yours as he caught his breath. He smiled down at you, his hand brushing a stray strand of hair from your face.

"I love you," he murmured, his voice soft but filled with conviction.

"I love you too," you whispered, your voice trembling from the intensity of the moment.

The air in the room grew heavier, the sunlight pouring through the window almost forgotten as Jace's movements became more relentless. The pace he set was unyielding, his determination clear as he focused entirely on you. Your breaths turned to gasps, your gasps to cries, filling the space with the sound of your surrender.

"Jace," you moaned, your voice breaking as the pleasure surged through you. His hand gripped your waist tightly, steadying your trembling body as he continued to drive into you with purpose.

"You're so beautiful like this," he said between breaths, his tone a mix of adoration and possessiveness. "So loud for me... Let them all hear you. Let them know that only I can make you feel like this."

Your heart raced at his words, and before you could respond, Jace shifted his position. His hands slid down to grip your thigh, lifting one of your legs and resting it on his shoulder. The new angle sent a shockwave through your body, and you arched your back instinctively, a loud cry of his name escaping your lips.

"There she is," Jace growled, his voice thick with satisfaction as he pressed deeper. "That's my girl. Say my name again."

"Jace!" you cried, your hands clutching at the sheets beneath you as the intensity overwhelmed you.

"Good," he murmured, his smirk evident as he leaned closer, folding your body slightly to deepen the connection. His movements became harder, more deliberate, his focus entirely on pushing you to the edge.

Your head fell back, your vision blurred as the pleasure consumed you. You could barely think, barely breathe, your body responding entirely to him. "Please," you whispered, though you weren't sure what you were begging for.

"Please, what?" Jace teased, his voice low and rough as he slowed his movements just enough to make you whimper in frustration. "Tell me, love. What do you need?"

"You," you managed to gasp, your voice trembling. "I need you."

"You have me," he assured, his tone softening for a moment. "Always"

With that, he resumed his relentless pace, his hand gripping your thigh tighter to keep you in place. Every thrust was calculated, every movement designed to pull you closer to the edge until you were trembling beneath him, unable to contain the overwhelming sensation.

"Say it again," Jace demanded, his voice thick with need. "Say my name.'

"Jace!" you screamed, your body arching off the bed as another wave of pleasure crashed over you.

He groaned deeply, the sound vibrating through you as he watched you fall apart beneath him. "That's right," he said, his voice full of pride. "You're mine. Only mine."

His words were the final push you needed, and you shattered completely, your cries filling the room as your body trembled in his grasp. Jace didn't stop, riding out your high, your body too weak to resist as Jace repositioned you. His hands moved with purpose, lifting you gently before bending your body over the edge of the bed.

You braced yourself against the mattress, your muscles trembling as he took his place behind you.

"Look at you," Jace murmured, his voice low and dripping with satisfaction. He ran his hands down your back, tracing the curves of your body with a possessive touch. "The proud princess of Dorne, brought to her knees by her Targaryen husband."

Your breath hitched as he leaned forward, his lips brushing against the shell of your ear. "Doesn't it feel right, my love? You were made for this-for me."

Before you could respond, he began to move, his pace slow and deliberate, as if savoring the moment. The sensation pulled a soft whimper from your lips, and your fingers gripped the sheets beneath you for support.

"That's it," he said, his voice almost taunting as he quickened his rhythm. "So beautiful, so perfect like this."

Your body surrendered to him completely, the exhaustion from the night before mixing with the pleasure coursing through you. All you could do was moan softly, each sound spurring him on further.

Jace chuckled, his hand threading through your hair and tugging gently, forcing you to arch your back. "Look at you now," he continued, his tone teasing but full of pride.

"The fierce princess, bowing to her dragon." You couldn't find the words to respond, your mind clouded by the intensity of it all. He leaned closer, pressing a kiss to your shoulder before whispering in your ear. "Say it, love. Say you're mine."

"I'm yours," you managed to gasp, your voice barely above a whisper.

"Louder," he demanded, his grip on your hair tightening slightly as his movements became more urgent.

"I'm yours!" you cried, your voice echoing through the room.

"Good girl," he growled, his tone filled with satisfaction. He released your hair, his hand trailing down your back and gripping your waist firmly as he continued his relentless pace.

Your body trembled beneath him, each movement drawing you closer to the edge once again. Jace's laughter filled the air, his pride evident as he watched you fall apart under his touch. "No one else will ever have you like this," he said, his voice low and possessive. "You belong to me-forever."

You nodded weakly, unable to form a coherent response as he pushed you closer and closer to your limit. The combination of his words, his touch, and the intensity of the moment overwhelmed you completely, leaving you breathless and utterly at his mercy.

As you clung to the bed's edge, breathless and trembling, the knock on the door echoed loudly in the room. Both you and Jace froze for a moment, your eyes widening as you recognized the voice of his mother, Princess Rhaenyra.

"Jace," she called, her tone firm but laced with concern. "She needs her rest. Don't forget you've both had a long night."

You felt a rush of embarrassment wash over you, your cheeks burning as you buried your face into the pillow, hoping the mattress could somehow swallow you whole. But Jace, utterly unbothered, leaned forward, his chest pressing against your back as he whispered in your ear, his breath hot against your skin.

"Shhh," he teased, his voice low and playful.

"Let's see how quiet you can be, my love."

Before you could even respond, he shifted his grip on your hips and thrust deeply, hitting that spot that made your whole body jerk with pleasure. A strangled cry escaped your lips despite your best effort to stay silent.

"Jace!" you hissed through gritted teeth, your voice a mixture of a plea and frustration.

At the door, Rhaenyra sighed audibly, seemingly suspecting exactly what was happening. "Jacaerys Velaryon," she called again, her voice sterner this time. "Don't make me come in there."

But Jace only chuckled, his laugh low and rich with mischief. He moved his hand to your mouth, brushing his fingers gently against your lips. "Bite down if you must," he murmured, his tone dripping with amusement. "But you won't stop me."

You glared at him weakly, but your resolve was already crumbling as he began moving again, his pace deliberate and calculated to draw every sound from your lips.

"She'll leave," he whispered, his lips brushing your ear. "Eventually."

Despite the knock and the muffled voice on the other side of the door, Jace seemed determined to push you to your limits. He quickened his movements, his hands steadying your trembling body.

"Let her hear," he muttered, his voice dark and possessive. "Let her know you're mine. Completely. Utterly."

You tried to stifle your cries, biting down on your knuckle as Jace drove you higher and higher. Your body betrayed you, trembling and arching beneath his touch, a breathy moan escaping when he hit that devastating spot again.

"You're not very good at staying quiet, are you?" he teased, his grin evident even if you couldn't see it.

Outside the door, there was a pause, followed by a resigned sigh from Rhaenyra. "I'll have someone bring breakfast later," she muttered, her voice fading as she walked away.

Once the sound of her footsteps disappeared, Jace let out a triumphant laugh. "See? I told you she'd leave."

You could barely form a response, your mind hazy and your body too overwhelmed by the relentless pace he set. Jace leaned down, pressing a kiss to your temple. "Now, where were we?" he asked, a devilish grin on his face as he resumed his movements with renewed intensity.

As Jace shifted your position, turning you to face him, his hands gripped your hips firmly. His intense gaze locked onto yours, a fiery mixture of hunger and possession flickering in his eyes. His thumb brushed your cheek for a fleeting moment before he gripped your jaw, tilting your face upward to ensure you were looking at him-and only him.

"I want to see you," he growled, his voice low and thick with dominance. "Every moment. Every expression. I want to see how I ruin you."

Your breath hitched as his words sent a shiver down your spine. Before you could process them, he pulled you closer and buried himself deeply inside you, eliciting a loud gasp that filled the air between you.

"Jace..." you moaned, your voice trembling, your hands instinctively clutching his shoulders as though they were your only anchor.

"That's it," he murmured, his lips brushing yours in a teasing kiss before pulling away, leaving you chasing him. "Hold onto me. Take me in, every inch of me."

His movements grew sharper, more deliberate, as if determined to push you past the edge. He tightened his grip on your jaw, forcing your eyes to remain on his. "Don't look away," he commanded, his voice a mix of demand and adoration. "I want you to remember this. Every time I claim you, I want you to know who you belong to."

Your body arched beneath him as he quickened his pace, each thrust pulling a cry from your lips. "Jace," you whimpered, your voice breathy and strained, your body trembling under his relentless onslaught.

"Say it," he demanded, his tone fierce as he leaned closer, his forehead pressing against yours. "Say you're mine."

"I'm yours," you managed to breathe, your voice quivering with pleasure and submission.

"Only yours, Jace." He let out a low growl of satisfaction, his hands slipping to your waist and pulling you flush against him. "Good girl," he muttered, his lips grazing your ear before trailing kisses along your jaw.

Your body betrayed your every intention to hold back, clinging to him tightly as you felt yourself unraveling. "You're squeezing me so tightly," Jace teased, his voice a mixture of amusement and pride. "You don't want to stop, do you?"

You could only shake your head weakly, tears pricking the corners of your eyes from the overwhelming sensations he was coaxing from you. "i'm not willing to stop actually," he whispered.

As you reached your peak, your cries became louder, echoing through the room as Jace drove you to the edge and beyond. His name fell from your lips like a prayer, and his gaze never left yours, drinking in every ounce of your surrender.

When the wave finally passed, your body fell limp against him, trembling and spent. Jace gently brushed the damp strands of hair from your face, his expression softening as he pressed a lingering kiss to your forehead.

"You're perfect," he murmured, his voice a mixture of awe and satisfaction . "My perfect wife. My everything"

As you lay there, your body trembling and spent from the intensity of it all, Jace let out a low chuckle. His eyes glimmered with a mix of amusement and mischief as he continued moving, his pace steady and unrelenting.

"You've came so many times," he murmured, his tone almost teasing as he leaned down to brush his lips against your ear. "And yet I'm not done with you. Not even close."

Your body arched involuntarily at his words, a soft whimper escaping your lips. You felt helpless under his control, your limbs too weak to resist his every move. "Jace... please..." you whispered, your voice barely audible, laced with both exhaustion and desperation.

He smirked, clearly reveling in your state. "What's wrong, my love?" he asked, his voice dripping with mock concern. "Tired already? But I still need you... I still haven't come."

You turned your head slightly, your gaze drifting to the bedside table. There, the faint glint of a glass caught your attention. Your foggy mind struggled to piece it together, but the realization hit you like a wave. You knew what that glass contained. You knew what Jace had consumed before he brought you to this state.

"Jace..." you managed to breathe out, your eyes darting between him and the glass. "What did you... drink?"

He followed your gaze and let out another low chuckle, his hand sliding down to grip your waist as he continued his unrelenting pace.

"Ah, that," he said, his voice filled with amusement. "Let's just say I had a little help. Something to make sure I could keep up with you tonight. Or rather..." He leaned down, his lips brushing against your collarbone," something to make sure you couldn't keep up with me."

You gasped, your hands instinctively gripping his shoulders as another wave of pleasure coursed through your body. "Jace... that's not fair," you whimpered, your voice trembling as you felt yourself spiraling again.

"Not fair?" he echoed, feigning innocence as he pressed a kiss to your jaw. "What's not fair, my love? That I want to make you feel this good? That I want to take my time with you?" His pace quickened, drawing another cry from your lips. "You're mine, remember? And I'll have you however I want. For as long as I want."

Your body trembled beneath him, the combination of exhaustion and overwhelming sensations rendering you completely at his mercy. Despite your protests, a small part of you relished his relentless devotion to your pleasure.

"Jace... please," you whimpered again, your voice breaking as he pushed you closer to the edge once more.

He cupped your face with one hand, his thumb brushing against your cheek as he stared deeply into your eyes. "Shh," he murmured, his voice softening for a moment. "You can take it, my love. You were made for me. For this."

Tears pricked the corners of your eyes as you felt yourself unraveling again, his name spilling from your lips like a prayer.

The sound of the waves crashing outside the castle seemed to synchronize with the relentless rhythm of Jace's movements. Your body trembled violently, consumed by another wave of pleasure so intense it left you gasping for air. You couldn't stop the broken moan that escaped your lips as your body arched beneath him.

Jace let out a low chuckle, his breath warm against your neck. "Look at you," he murmured, his voice tinged with amusement and pride. "Completely undone, all because of me." His eyes gleamed with satisfaction as he watched you shatter beneath him, your body quivering uncontrollably.

"Jace..." you whimpered, your voice trembling as tears pricked the corners of your eyes. "Please... I can't..."

But he didn't stop. He couldn't. His movements were fast and demanding, his hands gripping your hips tightly to keep you in place. "Oh, no, my love," he said, his tone soft but commanding. "You're not done yet. Not until I decide."

You felt yourself slipping into another wave of unbearable bliss, your hands clutching at the sheets beneath you as you cried out his name. Your entire body felt like it was on fire, and the intensity of it all left you weak and vulnerable.

"Please, Jace," you pleaded, tears streaming down your cheeks as your body betrayed you, responding to him despite your exhaustion. "I can't take any more. Please... stop."

He leaned down, his lips brushing against your ear as he whispered, "Oh, you can take it. You were made for me, remember? For this. For me." His voice was laced with possessiveness, each word sending a shiver down your spine.

His pace quickened, drawing another sharp cry from you. Jace smirked, clearly enjoying the way your body responded to him, no matter how much you begged for mercy. "So beautiful," he murmured, his tone softening for a moment as he pressed a kiss to your temple. "So perfect."

"Jace, please!" you cried out again, your voice breaking as another wave of ecstasy crashed over you, leaving you sobbing in pleasure.

"Shh," he cooed, his hand gently brushing your hair away from your face as he continued to move within you, his pace unrelenting. "Just let go, my love. Let me take care of you."

Your body shook uncontrollably as he pushed you to your limit, your cries echoing through the room. Jace groaned deeply, his grip on you tightening as he finally began to chase his own release. His movements became more erratic, his breath ragged as he buried himself deeper into you.

When he finally reached his peak, his body shuddered against yours, a deep groan rumbling in his chest. He collapsed beside you, pulling you into his arms as you lay there, completely spent.

Jace pressed a gentle kiss to your forehead, his hand stroking your back soothingly. "You're incredible," he whispered, his voice filled with adoration. "I'll never get enough of you."

As the exhaustion consumed you, your body still trembling from the aftershocks, Jace held you close, a satisfied smile playing on his lips.

"Rest now, my love," he murmured, his voice soft and tender. "You've earned it."

You fell into a deep sleep, your body utterly spent and trembling with exhaustion. Jace watched over you, his chest tightening with a mix of guilt and affection. He gently swept a strand of hair from your damp forehead, leaning down to press a soft, lingering kiss there. “I’m sorry,” he murmured, his voice barely audible. “I’ll take better care of you.”

Carefully, Jace slipped out of the bed, his every movement cautious so as not to disturb your rest. He picked up his discarded tunic from the floor and slipped it over his shoulders, sparing one last glance at you. The sight of you so vulnerable and at peace made his heart ache with both pride and regret. Determined to make amends, he decided to fetch food and drink for you, knowing you’d wake hungry and drained.

As he made his way through the corridors of Dragonstone, his footsteps echoed faintly against the stone walls. His mind replayed the events of the previous night, a mix of satisfaction and shame swirling within him. He hadn’t intended to push you so far, but his passion and love for you often made him lose control.

When Jace entered the grand hall, he immediately froze. His mother, Rhaenyra, was standing near the table with her hands clasped in front of her. Her sharp gaze cut through him, her expression a blend of disapproval and subtle amusement. Beside her stood Daemon, who, in stark contrast, had a wide smirk plastered across his face.

Daemon was the first to break the silence, clapping his hands slowly as his laughter echoed through the hall. “Well, well, well,” he drawled, his tone dripping with mockery. “Look who finally emerged. I was beginning to think you’d taken permanent residence in that bedchamber.”

Jace’s face turned a deep shade of red, and he ran a hand through his messy hair, his embarrassment palpable. “Daemon,” he said tightly, trying to maintain his composure.

Rhaenyra’s lips pressed into a thin line as she looked him up and down, her eyes lingering on the faint red marks on his neck. “Jacaerys Velaryon,” she said sharply, her voice carrying the weight of a reprimand. “You’re my heir, and as such, you’re expected to conduct yourself with a certain level of decorum.”

Daemon let out another chuckle, waving a dismissive hand. “Oh, come now, Rhaenyra,” he said, his grin widening. “Let the boy enjoy his marriage. Don’t act as if we were any different.” He turned to Jace with a wink. “Your mother may try to deny it, but I can assure you, we were far from discreet when we first wed. Isn’t that right, my love?”

Rhaenyra shot him a glare, her cheeks tinged with the faintest hint of pink. “That’s hardly the point, Daemon,” she retorted, though her tone was less sharp now.

Daemon smirked, clearly enjoying himself. “The point,” he said, turning back to Jace, “is that you’re young and in love. Passion like this is rare, and it’s not something to be ashamed of. Just… perhaps be mindful of the volume next time, hmm? The walls here aren’t as thick as you might think.”

Jace’s ears burned with humiliation, and he quickly looked away, mumbling, “I’ll keep that in mind.”

Rhaenyra sighed, her expression softening slightly. “Jace,” she said, her voice quieter now. “I know you care for her deeply, but she’s not as resilient as you might think. Don’t push her too hard. She’s not just your wife—she’s your partner. Treat her with the care she deserves.”

“I will, Mother,” Jace said earnestly, meeting her gaze. “I promise.”

Daemon clapped a hand on Jace’s shoulder, his grin never wavering. “Good lad,” he said. “Now go take care of her. And next time, perhaps don’t look so guilty when you wander into the hall. It makes things far too easy for us.”

Jace nodded, a faint smile tugging at his lips despite his embarrassment. He continued on his way to the kitchens, quickly gathering a tray of food and drink before returning to your chamber.

When he entered the room and saw you still peacefully sleeping, a wave of love washed over him. Setting the tray down, he sat beside you, brushing a gentle hand over your cheek. As he watched you, he silently vowed to be the husband you deserved—one who cherished you, protected you, and loved you with every fiber of his being.

Tag list : @danytar @julessworldd @hangmanscoming @yazzzmints @giirlinblack @searatarg @vaelry

[darling-flora]

pov

harry styles x yn!singer - social media au

fc: dua lipa

summary — releasing a new song about your ex is a great way to get him back.

note — short smau because why not ? let me know what you think!! reblog's and comments are appreciated ❤

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enews

Liked by user1, user2 and 969,944 others

enews Y/n L/n spotted trying to keep a low profile in her first outing in London since being rumored to "taking a break" with Harry Styles.

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user1 wait her being so lowkey right now makes me nervous that the rumors are true 😭

user2 stop, i thought they were meant to be 😪

user3 HARRY AND Y/N PLEASE TELL ME ITS NOT TRUE 😫🙏

user5 bro when they've been spotted out together they are attached at the hip.... i think they're going to get back together honestly 😭

↳user6 this!! especially since there's no cheating rumor's, i think they'll get back together prettyyyyy soon

user7 not them both fumbling eachother ijbol

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yourinstagram

Liked by joeyb_9, bellahadid and 11,159,944 others

yourinstagram NEW SINGLE "pov" OUT TOMORROW !!!

I have the honor of being able to perform at the Royal Albert Hall a week from tomorrow and I finished this song after working on it for about a week and want to put it out so I can have the pleasure of singing it for the first time live with the incredible Heritage Orchestra!!!

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user1 STOP IM FREAKING OUT

user2 okay it's either "pov your popstar boyfriend breaks your heart" or "pov you want your boyfriend back" and hopefully it's the latter!!!

user3 YAYYYYY NEW Y/N MUSIC!!!!

user4 now why is joe burrow in the likes....

↳user5 lol he's a fan of her music!! ↳user5 he's posted about listening to her music a quite a bit ↳user4 oh i had no idea, i thought he was trying to shoot his shot or something 😭

user6 im so nervous what the tone of this song is going to be

user7 happy for new music but scared because of break up rumors

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yourinstagram

Liked by harrystyles, bellahadid and 10,981,944 others

yourinstagram Royal Albert Hall was a dream and an honor thank you to everyone who came out and the Heritage Orchestra for being amazing as always what an unforgettable night!!!

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user1 what a night!!!!

user2 are you 2 back 2gether??

user3 you are UNREAL 😍

user4 harry back in the likes!!!

user5 honestly make it a weekly performance it was too good!!!!

user6 SERVING VOCALS & LOOKS !!! THIS DIVA 💜

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yourinstagram

Liked by harrystyles, bellahadid and 18,981,944 others

yourinstagram you know me better than I do ❤

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user1 SHUT UP STOP 😭

harrystyles ❤

↳yourinstagram ❤ ↳user2 the matching hearts 😩 ↳user 3 the only people ever actually!!

user4 we can sleep happy now

user5 this is so important to me omg

user6 honestly they are serving parents now more then they ever have

user7 ohhhhh my heart is so full

user8 IT COUPLE!!!

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[ambrosiagourmet]

Rin Masterpost

Rin! Rinsha Fana! Beloved side character I think about far too much (or maybe not enough?)

I decided that it might be nice to put together an informational post about Rin, since she has some of my favorite background details of any character in Dungeon Meshi. This is partly as reference for myself, and partly for anyone else who might be interested in her but not know where to chase down the tidbits we we get of her, both in canon & extra materials. There’s also a little bit of theorizing and analysis sprinkled in for fun.

If anyone spots something I missed, please let me know and I will add it in!

Alright. Time for ultimate #rinposting

History and Timeline:

We don't have an official timeline for Rin (even in the expanded Adventurer's Bible, sadly), but we can put a lot of pieces together based on Kabru's timeline & their respective ages.

Rin is 2 years older than Kabru, and they met when he was 9. Assuming that he met her soon after she was taken to the elven capital, that means that the elves took her when she was 11.

Before that, she lived on the Northern Continent. Interestingly, when Mickbell asks about Shuro, Rin says she was born "here."

Since "here" doesn't mean the actual Island itself, it must mean simply "not the east." She is described in the Adventurer's Bible as having "no real knowledge of or attachment to the East," so maybe that's why she draws a "there" verses "here" line.

I'd also like to add a note here that the elves don't seem uh... they don't seem great about respecting the value of other cultures, especially those of short-life species. Milsiril seems to have discouraged Kabru from eating or remembering food from his hometown, at least, and that's even as an adoptive parent who cares (at least in some way) for her child. As I will touch on later, the "care" that Rin was under probably had even less respect for her history or ties to either Eastern or Northern culture.

That is all to say, considering that Rin spent many years with the elves, I'd take her having "[no] attachment to the East" as more of a comment on how she feels now, and less as a definite choice she made. She may genuinely have chosen that approach and opinion for herself, she may have been pushed towards it by the elves, and she may have had little choice at all in the matter - all are valid interpretations, though I personally lean towards the thought that it's unlikely the elves didn't have at least some hand in it.

Anyway, Rin does seem to know at least a bit about her heritage - she can presumably name and identify the specific island her parents are from, and she recognizes that "Shuro" isn't a name used there. She also knows that different places from the Eastern archipelago speak different languages, so she knows at least a little about the other islands as well.

Some additional extrapolations I'll make based on these facts: she never mentions, and probably isn't in contact with, any family from her island. This may be because her extended family died, because her parents didn't (or weren't able to) maintain contact, or because she lost contact when she was taken by the elves. Somewhat relatedly, she also prooobably doesn't speak the language, at least not fluently, though her being able to comment on the state of language in the archipelago makes me think that she at least learned a little as a kid.

Anyway, Rin's parents were refugees from the archipelago, though we don't know what specifically caused them to leave. There is this little tidbit of info we get (from the cover of chapter 48, of all places), though:

So yeah, that seems like it would be the backdrop of Rin's parents fleeing. As I said earlier, it's unclear if Rin might have any living family left back on her island. The listing she has for “family” in the Adventurer's Bible is just a dash, but so is Izutsumi's, for instance, and we know that she was taken from her family with no knowledge of who might still be out there. It's possible everyone else was killed, it's possible they were separated... it's possible that Rin's parents didn't even know.

As an additional note, and this is speculation on my part, but I think there is an argument to be made, with this tidbit from the cover as well as the Nakamoto clan's specialty in espionage and use of ninjas, that the politics of the archipelago are partially based on Sengoku era Japan. Not necessarily super relevant here, but I think it's interesting context for all... of the archipelago characters, honestly.

(Especially considering it seems like the Nakamoto clan is in a relatively comfortable position, and yet clearly are involved, or at least prepared to be involved in larger conflict. How stable is their position, really? How is Shuro's father viewed by the wider region and archipelago as a whole? What about his lord? NOT THE POINT THIS IS A POST ABOUT RIN. BUT IT'S VERY INTERESTING TO THINK ABOUT.)

Okay, back to Rin's parents.

Whatever caused them to leave, they made their way to the north, where they made their living with their magic for a time. There are no specifics about what kind of magic they used, but we know at least some examples of jobs that magic can get you, based on the flashback to Laios and Falin's childhood in chapter 26. Laios proposes that Fain could use her magic to be a priest, gravekeeper, or wandering exorcist. Though these are specific to Falin's affinity with spirits, they give some idea of the shape of the work that might be available. It's important, but it is also on the outskirts of society - not necessarily admired or appreciated by the average person.

And Rin’s parents were killed by vigilantes for that magic. It's not entirely news that superstitious villages in the area would sometimes kill magic users - we see a small drawing of people being burned at the stake in a panel towards the end of the manga:

Nonetheless, Rin is the only person in the main cast who has experienced this brutality firsthand. And she did experience it firsthand, having been found by the elves as the sole survivor within the burnt ruins of her home.

It is unknown exactly how she survived, or what happened to her parents before and during the fire. Rin lived, and they did not.

The elves came some time after the fire, intending to investigate reports of ancient magic. They (and we) don't know if Rin's parents actually did use ancient magic, or if the reports and murders were simply spurred by general fear and superstition. Rin was the only piece of "evidence" that remained, and so she was taken back to the west with the elves when they left.

We don't know much about her time on the Northern Central Continent (where the elves/Canaries are based), but it doesn't seem like she was adopted or taken in by anyone the way that Kabru was. According to the Adventurer's Bible, after being taken into custody, "under their care she was treated as a captive animal would be." I would guess that means very basic food and shelter, little to no education. Probably the most social contact she got was from Kabru, as well as maybe, occasionally, from elves treating her as a curiosity, such as in this bit in the Adventurer’s Bible:

Assuming she left with Kabru (which seems like it is the case, there's no info about them having separated during that time), she spent 9 years with the elves, and has been with Kabru on the Island in the 4 years since then.

She also stays in the Golden Country after the end of the story, apparently working as an apothecary.

Additional Details (& Speculation):

What does she remember of her family and home?

I'd like to take a moment here to explore a little of what Rin might remember of her parents and home.

For reference, we can look at Kabru. The canaries came to Utaya when Kabru was 6, and he arrived in the capital when he was 7. He remembers the events of the tragedy in his home, and has some memories of his mother and life in Utaya, including memories of local dishes.

Rin lost her parents and home at 11, so she presumably has much clearer memories of the events that lead to her being taken by the elves... or she might, assuming that they haven't been completely blocked by her trauma from the event.

Yeah, I am fairly damn sure that she's got some memory issues from trauma and PTSD. For one, this is the state she was found in:

As already mentioned, she was also treated like something of an animal by the elves. She probably didn't have a lot of contact with other people, which would further perpetuate that sense of isolation and dehumanization. What I'm getting at here is that Rin probably didn't have much to help pull her out of this place, or heal these wounds. She had Kabru, who was also a kid and even younger than her, and she had herself.

Obviously trauma leaves different scars on everyone, and everyone responds and copes in different ways. But I do think it is interesting that we never hear anything about Rin's parents or life before the elves, and there are no real details about it given in the Adventurer's Bible the way we have for Kabru. What's presented is more surface level facts: they were refugees, they made a living with magic, they were killed.

I'm inclined to believe that things are laid out this way because that's how Rin holds on to these things. She knows things about them, but possibly remembers them more as things she was told/knows to be true, rather than actual memories she can picture herself experiencing.

Rin's Magic

In an interesting counterpoint to her potentially spotty memory, I do actually think Rin may have learned magic from her parents (or started learning, and was self-taught from there). She never attended a magic academy, and actually has a bit of grudge against people who did - owing to the social protection afforded to "upper-class mages," which her parents did not have. She also almost certainly wouldn't have been taught by the elves, who not only treated her as an animal but also knew her parents may have been involved with ancient magic.

Falin began to show signs of magical talent at 8, and was sent to the Magic Academy at 10, and that was as someone who had absolutely no guidance about or exposure to magic in her home town. Raised by two mage parents, I think Rin absolutely could have been learning some things by the time she was 11.

In terms of continued learning, I'll add that Rin is able to identify Marcille's magic as being A) from an Academy student, and B) cast by an elf:

This makes me think that she continued to study magic on her own while held by the elves, and probably even more so after leaving with Kabru. They didn't form the party until two years after they left the elves, which would give Rin plenty of time to try and learn from other adventurers on the Island, or to study up on her own. She'd probably be able to pick up some dungeon-crawling basics (like the water walk spell), as well as become familiar with the skill level and expression of skill common in different people with different backgrounds (hence why she is able to comment on the "textbook" academy wards).

Much like Marcille, Rin also seems to rely on a 'one size fits all' Big Boom method of dealing with monsters: lightning. We see the best example of its power in the fight with Chimera Falin:

But we also see her cast it pretty recklessly in a few other places, including the end credits of the new anime ED, which I think provides a good example of the downsides to such an approach...

Yeah, it is very much a 'get out of the way or get zapped' spell.

Especially since Marcille's offensive magic is self-taught and works very similarly, this definitely reinforces the idea that Rin figured most of this stuff out herself.

Outfit and Character Design

Dear sweet Rin of the Red And Black... how I love her design.

First of all, her clothes are damaged. Despite the fact that Rin looks relatively well put together overall, her outfit is worn out. I have some theories on why this is that I'll get to in a bit, but for now I'll just touch on what this design communicates in general about it.

I think, just like with Kabru's horribly messy room, it creates a sense that there is something more complicated underneath the surface. Something that isn't being addressed or seen to, just as the dress hasn't been mended or replaced.

It also reflects her not caring a ton about her appearance. She's neat, but she's not concerned about being pretty, so she doesn't bother with fixing up her outfit after her dungeon crawls. This also fits with her perpetual scowl (which I will talk more about in a bit), and slightly disheveled hair.

Next: the gloves. At first I thought they might be a sort of uncomfortable-with-touch thing, but after skimming through the manga and some bonus content, I have another theory. Rin takes the gloves off to eat, as well as a few other instances, such as when working on a spell with Holm and Marcille in chapter 36

This one is especially interesting because she has them on in the next chapter, during the fight with Falin. Since she also isn't wearing gloves during some of the Daydream Hour art of her outside of the dungeon, that leads me to believe that they are specifically for combat.

What does she need them for, though? Most other casters we see don't wear gloves. Well... just look at the other half of the page where she attacks Falin with lightning:

She is enveloped by this spell. I said it before was pretty reckless magic, but maybe its not just a problem for her teammates, but for her as well.

So here's my theory: maybe the gloves are rubber, or some other electricity-resistant material? They might help protect her from her own magic. I don't know why a caster would need gloves for combat otherwise.

I also think this might be why her dress is tattered at the bottom, by the way. Especially since the Daydream Hour genderswap design doesn't have a similar problem with his outfit, since the tunic isn't as long.

I will admit this is a bit of stretch/guess, but I think it's a fun one, and I wanted to share. I do think I'm right about the gloves being for dungeons/fighting specifically, at least. That seems pretty consistent throughout all of her appearances.

I also mentioned her scowl, so I'll touch on that briefly as well. The (fairly confirmed) explanation for Rin's expression is that she intentionally wears a frown to prevent her other expressions from showing through. I think it's important to emphasize that it's not just smiling that she is trying to suppress here - it's any strong emotion:

Anyway, because I can, here is the art of Rin smiling.

Rin and Kabru

I have talked a bit about Rin and Kabru's history, but I think it deserves its own section.

I think it's very interesting that Rin is pretty much the ONLY character in all of Dungeon Meshi that has explicit canonical romantic interesting in someone. It's literally part of the main summary sentence in her character profile.

This could be sort of reductive as a way to describe a female character (and in some ways it still is), but I think in part the simplicity and directness of it actually is part of what makes it so interesting. Especially when on the very next page we see the comic about her backstory. "This mage is in love with Kabru" -> one page of a horribly traumatic event and a child frozen in shock with no one to comfort her. What does that do?

Well, in my opinion, it shows how much Rin focuses on Kabru as something to keep her in the present. In contrast with the immense loss she has experienced, her love for Kabru is current and alive. He has presumably been her anchor for years, and I think that her love is part of that anchor.

Adding to this, in contrast with how explicit her feelings are, she never seems to actively pursue Kabru. She complains about his potential interest in other women, but she doesn't really flirt. She doesn't let herself smile around him any more than anyone else, and she doesn't hide her bitterness or anger from him to present a more appealing persona.

As much as she craves Kabru's attention, and has stayed by his side for years, I don't know that she really wants to possess him. He seems to know about her feelings, more or less, and she seems to know that he knows. Maybe she believes he doesn't reciprocate and is respecting that, maybe she's afraid of what she could lose if she tried to change things, or maybe the change itself frightens her. In any case, though she's not exactly happy with the way things are between them, she doesn't seem to be trying to change that status quo.

A specific thing I'd also like to talk about with their relationship, beyond Rin's love for him, is her fear for him. As the Adventurer's Bible puts it, "she worries that his knack for dealing with whatever life throws at him might lead him to get too full of himself and end up in serious trouble."

Rin is an interesting mix of restrained and explosive, herself. Her magic is destructive, her temper seems to run hot (she gets annoyed easily, at least), and her feelings for Kabru are apparent. At the same time, she doesn't let her emotions show on her face, she is the one who bluntly states that the group has hit the limit of their abilities, and she doesn't act on those obvious feelings for Kabru. It's interesting, then, that what she fears for Kabru is that he won't restrain himself.

And a small personal idea about that as well: I wonder if she somewhat blames her parents for getting killed. Again, this is very speculative, but I think it's interesting that her fear for Kabru is that he will get too full of himself. Take up too much space. It's never really stated what Rin thinks of her parents, but it can be easy in grief to search for control, and control often means blame. If they hadn't been so confident, so flashy, would they still be alive...?

I don't know if she's ever thought like that, and it could well be that her fears for Kabru come from a totally different place. But it's an interesting connective thread between her past and present - the idea of "getting in trouble" for taking up too much space and being too confident in one's own abilities.

Miscellaneous Tidbits:

On that note, I'd like to wrap up the main part of this post, and move on to a few extra things that I couldn't find another place for.

Rin plays with her hair when she's stressed

Using stressed as a pretty big umbrella here, because I think it's hard to perfectly pin down all the emotions at play, but it is a habit of hers. Best displayed in chapter 32, but it shows up in other places, too.

Her design contrasts with Marcille

This is a small thing, but I just love how much they are visual opposites.

Rin wears red and black and has dark hair, Marcille wears blue and white and has light hair. Marcille cares a great deal for her hair and puts it up in elaborate hairstyles, and Rin's is mostly loose and a bit messy. Marcille was even educated at the Magic Academy, which Rin dislikes. They both have little capelets. Also they both look very cute in each other's clothes.

Rin knows Flamela (and they meet again in canon)

Nothing much is done with this in canon, but I think it’s super interesting that Flamela's squad are the ones that find Rin as a child and take her away to the west, and then they end up stuck in the dungeon together for a bit.

Two days??? I'm so very curious what things were like between these three.

Aaaand I think that's all I have to say about Rin! For the time being at least. There's a lot more analysis that could be done about her and Kabru especially, but for this post I wanted to keep things at least somewhat anchored to canon facts, with only a layer or two of speculation on top.

If it isn't already obvious, I think Rin is a super interesting character with a ton of potential depth to explore. She mostly interacts with Kabru in canon, but has ties to a bunch of other characters: she and Marcille fill similar roles in their parties but have differing personalities and histories, she and Falin (and Laios) have been tremendously shaped by xenophobia and fear of magic common in the Northern Continent, her parents fled from conflict in the same region Shuro and his retainers are from, and she has history with Flamela and some of the second canary squad.

Her temper, her fear, her love... her repression and passion - they all inform her character, even in small ways, even with as little time as she spends on the page.

[trippinsorrows]

looking through your eyes + fourteen

authors note: swear this was the chapter that never fucking ended. it's essentially part one because even with how long it is, i still have a lot to cover. 😩

anywayssss, some foreshadowing, a ton of fluff, and some long awaited moments below.

if any cw/tw’s are missed, please let me know, and i will add them!

cw/tw: fluff, angst, smut

song inspo: ‘looking through your eyes’ by leann rimes

masterlist

words: 15k (sorrows, sorrows, prayers)

“Did they hurt?” The question is asked while sitting on top of Roman’s lap, the default seat for her, it seems, whenever she’s in his presence. Her fingers ghost over his inked skin, slightly fascinated by the intricacies of the design. Tribal. A nod to his heritage and his story.

Like most, if not all things with Solana, he answers truthfully. “Not really, but I have a high pain tolerance, so it’s hard to say.” For some reason, that makes her frown a bit. Was that a natural inherited thing or some level of tolerance built up from years of said pain? “Do you want any?”

She nods, tracing one of the patterns with her finger. “In Mexican culture, Hummingbirds represent many things. Strength. Love. But, the thing my mom always focused on and stressed to me is they’re also messengers from the spirits in heaven. That…they remind us of lost loved ones.” Her shoulders lift a little. Small, sad smile on her face. “Sometimes, I think I’d like to get one tattooed on me. Like…like a tribute to her, but then I think about the needle and don’t know if that could trigger me somehow.”

It could trigger from a couple different angles, but namely her trauma with knives as well as her history of self-harming. But, Solana is certain Roman already recognizes this, thus her not going into specifics. “I don’t know. I’ll….I’ll think about it some more.”

Roman nods, offering, “if you decide to get it, I’ll go with you.” 

It’s a thoughtful gesture, not entirely surprising. Solana is starting to recognize there’s very little the man underneath her wouldn’t do for her. 

Appreciatively kissing his cheek, she murmurs, “thank you.” Biting on her lip, she foolishly tries to see if she can get something else out of him. “Speaking of going….”

Roman chuckles. “I’m not telling you.” He rolls his eyes as she pouts almost, his thumb going to her cheek, the cut almost entirely healed. “You’ll find out in a couple hours.”

It’s been almost a week since the gala, and the temperature has settled tremendously. Roman still doesn’t like thinking about it, thinking about how he lost his fucking shit but mostly at the fact that Solana was attacked. 

He’s about to start having someone with her at all times. Even in the bathroom. 

Roman has also noticed there seems to be some conflicted emotions on Solana’s end regarding what happened in the bathroom. Namely because she caught wind of Wes injuries, injuries that are truly tame compared to what Roman would have done and will do once he gets his hands on that son of a bitch.

But, he is him, and Solana is her. They are very different people. She is gentle where he is hard, so while there is still that adrenaline and proudness she was experiencing at defending herself as well as she did, he can see it’s something that’s bothering her.

He’s tried to bring it up, but she shuts down, so he’s left it alone out of respect.

But, with her birthday being tomorrow and them leaving in a couple hours for their trip, he’s hopeful getting away will be good for her. For them. 

She then asks a bit of a silly question considering who she’s talking to. Roman plans for every little thing, from the most major detail to the thing that most likely won’t happen but still serves as something that needs to be accounted for. “Is….is it at least domestic? I don’t have a passport.” 

“Yes, you do.” He opens the first drawer of his desk, pulling out a small Louis Vuitton passport cover and hands it to her.

Solana looks down with a gasp seeing that she, in fact, has a passport. A brand new, unstamped passport. “How did you—”

An easy answer. “I’m a billionaire, Solana. There’s nothing I can’t buy or make happen.”

It makes sense, but it doesn’t do much to chip away the tremendous amount of guilt and how bad she feels in learning that Roman’s birthday was back in May, and no one said or did a thing about it or acknowledged it.

She can still feel her stomach dropping when she asked a few days about when his is, and he calmly informed that it had already passed. That hurt. Truly. To know what should be a special occasion was essentially treated as any other day.

His explanation made sense. He expressed not liking to acknowledge his birthday because of what happened when he was 10. She can understand that. She does understand that, but it doesn’t make her feel any less sad at the fact that she didn’t even know it was her husband’s freaking birthday. 

Solana expresses said concern. “But…it’s….it’s not fair we’re doing all this for my birthday, and I didn't even know yours—”

“Hey—” He interrupts her, his hands cupping her face. “Don’t do that.” He pushes back some of her hair. “My story is my story. Not yours.” She opens her mouth clearly to protest or counter when his eyes take on a mischievous glint. “Besides, seeing you half naked most of the day for a week? Might as well be my fucking birthday.”

Solana rolls her eyes. He has a way of making her feel better in the most interesting and often raunchy sort of way. Blushing and smiling at his suggestive comment, she shrugs, admitting, “there are more bathing suits in my suitcase than clothes.”

“Good. The less clothes you have on, the better.” Her cheeks must be a red mess. Roman taps on her hip, gesturing for her to stand up. He also stands and takes her hand in his. “Come here. There’s something I want to show you.”

Solana looks down at her outfit which is most definitely nothing appropriate enough to leave the house in. “Are we leaving the house or—”

“No.” His answer is simple and to the point that she doesn’t really press him for more information as he guides her through the house. A frown does fall on her face, however, when she sees he’s taken her down the hall where he’d said construction was previously taking place.

It’s only then she finally asks, “what—”

“Close your eyes.”

Solana makes a face. “Roman, what are you—”

He steps towards her, pushing back her hair. “You know I don’t like repeating myself.” If she was anyone else, Solana is certain his tone would be much different. A lot darker, harsher. But, it’s not. Just….strangely calm. 

Blowing out a breath, she relents, realizing there’s not really an option for anything else. “Okay.” Shutting her eyes, she allows him to continue to guide her, stopping for a moment as she hears a door open. He directs her to walk through said opened door followed by a light switch, the presence of that light shining against her closed eyes. 

Solana feels him shift behind her, his arms snaking around her, mouth dipping to her ear. “Open em’.”

Solana doesn't need to be told twice, and as soon as they’re open, a gasp leaves her mouth. Naturally, she walks away from him, deeper into the room that has an open floor plan, walls almost entirely lined with white, empty shelves. Bookshelves. Against the walls and the cutout part of the room. Not to be confused with the other nook that’s occupied by seating, pillows, and anything else someone would need if indulging in reading or writing.

Walking further into the space, she sees another area clearly curated for another purpose. Art. A table to create on, two easels, countless art supplies all perfectly situated near the bay window that allows for natural sunlight. 

The perfect place to create. 

Taken completely back by the surprise of it all, Solana turns to Roman, stammering to ask, “is–is this for me?”

“You know it’s damn sure not for me.” He steps toward her again, gently pulling her against him. “You were outgrowing that space. And your journals are personal. They shouldn’t be kept at work.” His thumb brushes across her bottom lip. “They should be here. This is your home now.”

“Roman….” She looks around again, tears growing in her eyes. 

He continues to explain. “It would have been ready sooner, but when I found out you like art, I had them add that.” He gestures to the corner that has to be any artist's dream. “I’m not smart about a lot of that shit, so just let me know anything else you ne—”

He’s silenced by Solana practically jumping him, angling her body to face him as she wraps her arms around his neck. A hug, deep and sentimental. It takes him off guard for a second, Roman unused to such….affection.

But, the discomfort settles into something that almost feels natural. His hand on the small of her back as he chuckles. “I’m gonna take it that you like it then.” It’s not necessarily a question as much as an assessment. 

She gives a watery chuckle, pulling back and nodding. “I love it.” Her voice breaks. “No…..no one’s ever done anything like this for me before.” It goes without saying this doesn't include her mom, who Roman is almost certain did more for her than anyone ever could. Especially when she needed it the most.

Doesn’t mean he can’t do his part though. 

She swallows, whispering as he wipes away her tears. “Thank you.” 

“What I tell you about that, huh?” He ghosts his lips over hers, reminding yet again. “You never have to thank me for anything.” Roman kisses her forehead, seeing how her eyes shut from feeling content and partially overwhelmed. It brings a small smile to his face. “Happy birthday, Solana….”

________

“Oh my god….”

Roman doesn’t have to be looking up to know what’s caught Solana’s attention. It’s obvious by the way the SUV has come to a stop, shifting into park as they’ve clearly reached their destination.

And she’s clearly looking up at said destination. Well, the conduit to help them travel to said destination.

When he finishes sending out an email, one of the last before he goes into somewhat work blackout—because he never be fully disconnected—he looks up to see Solana still staring out the window. 

“Is that….is that a private jet?”

Smirking, Roman slides his phone in his bag and removes his seatbelt. “You really think I fly commercial?”

It’s not intended to come across as rude, and it isn't judging by her small smile. “They’re bigger than I imagined….”

“Mine is.” Double entendre, if he really wanted to make her blush, but he keeps it PG. For now. “I’m tall. Need the leg room.”

Roman exits the SUV at the same time the driver opens the door for Solana to do the same. He easily circles back around to her just in time for her to sling her small backpack on her shoulder and adjust her ball cap. In sneakers without any sort of height boost, she looks even tinier than she already is, especially compared to his massive build. 

Taking her hand, Roman asks, “you ready?”

She nods as he leads them over to the descended stairs where the pilot and two flight attendants stand outside, greeting them. The older man, Bob, he thinks, lifts his hat and nods respectfully in their direction.

“Mr. Reigns. Mrs. Reigns. Everything is just as you requested.”

Roman only gives a nod to acknowledge things being exactly as they should. His way.

He motions for Solana to walk up ahead of him, mainly so he can enjoy the view of her ass in the tight ass outfit she has on but also out of manners.

Manners he only seems to be able to find in her presence. 

She loiters a bit near the entrance, moving aide for him to also fully enter but still stands almost frozen, clearly taken back by the interior. 

“This is….”

“The best,” he finishes for her, tossing his bag on the closest beige sofa that lines both sides of the jet. Roman moves over to her, hand palming her ass as he dips his head to whisper in her ear. “I don’t accept anything less.”

She giggles against him, the sound hands down one of the best songs on the soundtrack when they’re interrupted by someone clearing their throat.

Momentarily considering murder for probably the fifth time today, Roman turns to see Paul standing at the bottom of the steps. Roman literally forgot this man was in the SUV behind them, coming to see them off.

Paul lifts his hand to shield his eyes from the sun, asking with all of the unease. “A word, please, my Tribal Chief?”

The automatic answer would be no if not for Solana turning around and placing her hand on his chest. A frequent gesture he never gets tired of. Any touch from her is always welcomed.

Her smile dips a bit as she asks with the same level of unease shared by Paul, “is—is it okay if I look around?”

Her question makes him scowl. Her asking him permission to do anything feels uncomfortable as fuck. “You don’t have to ask my permission for shit. Anything that’s mine is yours.”

His answer seems to ease her anxiety at least as she nods, kisses his cheek and starts to explore the rest of the jet. Roman’s eyes linger on her a bit before he switches his attention to his annoying ass head council.

Stomping down the steps with all of the agitation, he barks, “talk.”

Paul clears his throat, and Roman’s already regretting his decision to choose his Wise Man over his fine ass wife.

“Sir, I—I understand you wanting to take the girl—”

“Solana,” Roman corrects one time only. Because that was Paul’s one time referring to Solana as anything other than her name or his wife. “Her name is Solana.”

Paul swallows. “Of course.” He’s a quick learner, smartly running it back for a second, correct time. “I understand you wanting to take Solana away for her birthday, but is the timing really great? There’s so much work—”

“There’s always work to do, Wise Man. That’s why I delegated the appropriate tasks to cover the appropriate work while I’m gone.” It was a bit trickier than that as delegation has never been a preference for Roman. His ultimate preference is to always handle shit on his own. And truth be told, he made sure to sign off, approve, create, and orchestrate any major moves that needed to be done before leaving. The remaining tasks were split among Jimmy, Jey, and Rikishi. And he has no doubt they’ll be on top of it. Because as always, when it comes to business, the twins never miss. It’s just any other time they’re bumbling idiots who give Roman migraines from time to time. 

“Of course. Always so conscientious, my Tribal Chief.” Paul’s smile makes Roman want to turn and walk away yet again for the second time in two minutes. Granted, that’s his usual disposition when interacting with anyone other than his wife. “I just—for you to be out of the country for almost a week. Well, it’s just—”

“Wise Man.”

Paul’s eyes light up, and it has nothing to do with the sun that’s shining in his direction. “Yes, my Tribal Chief?”

“How long have I been the Tribal Chief?”

The answer is almost instantaneous, a small smile falling on Paul’s pudgy face. “Since you were eighteen-years-old.”

“How old am I now?”

“My Tribal Chief turned 39 on May 25th of this year.”

“And in all that time, how many vacations have I taken?”

There’s brief hesitation, eyes traveling for a brief second, searching for the answer. “N–none, my Tribal Chief.”

“Exactly.” Roman lifts his shades and sets them atop his head. “So, if I want to take a couple fucking days off to help my wife celebrate her birthday, then that’s what I’m gonna fucking do, and I don’t have to answer to a damn person about it. Because I feel like you’re questioning me, Wise Man, and I don’t get questioned. Is that understood?”

Paul’s fat cheeks are painted an ugly shade of red as he stammers out, “y–yes, my Tribal Chief.”

Semi pleased with the acquiescence, Roman turns around and calls out coldly, “only contact me for emergencies.”

Roman is almost certain Paul will be too scared shitless to risk his wrath with an outreach that’s only subjectively considered an emergency vs Roman’s definition. He’ll probably task Rikishi or the twins with the task. 

Roman would prefer their old man over them. Less antics and constant triggers for his anger.

The head of the table finds his wife still in the main section of the jet, sitting down on the sofa, legs pulled up under her, phone in hand. Hearing his return, she smiles, sharing, “I was just texting Naomi to make sure she grabbed Dulce’s favorite toy.”

Roman chuckles and walks over, joining her on the sofa. “The dog has a favorite toy?”

Smiling, she explains, “it’s the one she plays with the most. Her avocado.” Solana angles her body so she’s facing him more versus the other sofa that lines the other side of the plane. “Do—do you think she’ll be okay? We’ve never left her before.”

To be fair, Roman briefly thought about that. She’s so fucking little and still a puppy, so leaving her could be risky. But, he also knows that damn thing seems to always be hopping on Naomi and Bayley’s lap, so she should be fine.

“She’ll probably sleep the majority of the time we’re gone.”

Solana rolls her pretty eyes, her mouth curving into a small smile. “I’m serious, Roman.”

“So am I.” He sighs and brings his arm around her, pulling her into his side. “She’ll be fine, Solana. It’s not like we left her with Jey and psycho ass Nicki with their bad ass kids.”

Forever the saint, she pouts and lightly scolds him. “That’s not nice. I’m sure they’re not bad.”

“You ain’t met them yet,” Roman scoffs. “Why you think Jey always at our place?”

Smiling cheekily, she gently points out, “you said it’s because I keep feeding them.”

“That too.” Roman trails his finger up and down her upper forearm, her soft skin a contrast to his coarse fingertips. Her perfume, something sweet, vanilla, and gourmand doesn’t help him keep focus on the conversation nor the fact that she’s so close to him, their bodies touching him. His desire for physical contact, of any kind, with her has been heightened a bit in recent days. “That’s why you don’t feed fucking strays. Cause they keep coming back.”

Solana peers up at him, giggling, “you’re so mean to them sometimes.” Shifting her position so that her legs are laid out the opposite side of Roman, her back pressed against his side. His big arm is over her chest, her hands on his forearm. “I think….I think you like them more than you let on.”

“Really?” 

She nods, further explaining. “I don’t….I don’t think you would let them be as close to you as they are if you didn’t.”

Perceptive. Roman pegged that about Solana a while ago, when they first started writing, her previous preferred form of communication. She’s not entirely wrong. As fucking crazy Jimmy and Jey drive Roman, they’ve also been the two best and really only examples of friendships he has. Not to mention they’re family. 

“They’re….tolerable.”

She looks up at him, asking almost nervously, “and what am I?”

Such a good question that’s both simple and complicated. The easy answer is his wife. That’s just fact. Law. But the complex answer, the complex answer is that she’s so much more than that. That she’s become so much more than that. Where Roman finds himself craving her presence. A rarity for someone who typically avoids and shies away from social interactions like the plague.

Dipping his head to kiss her forehead, he answers in a low, steady voice, “my Lo’u Au.”

Her eyes flutter shut a bit as she murmurs, “it’s not fair you say things to me you know I can’t understand.” Roman watches her once again move around, this time sliding one leg over so that she’s sitting on his lap, straddling him. He doesn’t hesitate in moving his hands to the bottom of her ass, lifting her so she’s closer to him, her breast nearly touching his chest. Solana tilts her head to the side, whispering, “Yo siento muy bien contigo.”

Having her like this, so close against him, it doesn’t help that resolve, doesn’t do shit about the fact that his dick stiffens whenever she touches him. Like she is now. His eyes dip to her lips, so soft and full. “And what does that mean?”

Solana also seems to be on the same wavelength, her eyes also dropping to his mouth as she whispers with a small smile. “I’ll tell you when you tell me.”

Eyes shutting, Roman groans and tugs her even closer, her arms around his neck. “God, you drive me fuckin’ crazy.” Roman kisses her. Kisses her with all of the intensity and desire and borderline need he harbors for this woman.

And then she moans. She fucking moans in his mouth. His dick nearly fucking jerks as he stands up with her in his arms, Solana gasping and breaking the kiss to look around. “Roman….”

He needs to have his mouth on her, lips kissing the underline of her jaw as he brings them to the back of the jet, to the bed. He’s careful in how he lays her down, mindful of how she tugs on his shirt, pulling him on top of her and resuming their passionate kiss. 

Roman’s hands roam her body, but he pays extra attention to her breast, so big and soft, pillow soft under his hand as he kneads them, mindful of the way her nipples continue to harden under his touch.

“Roman….” Solana is breathing heavily, once again breaking their kiss, something he would otherwise be objected to if not for the two tiny words that leave her mouth. “Touch me.” 

His eyes widen a bit as he asks, almost unsure he heard her right. “What?”

Mouth parted, she licks her lips and again reiterates her previous request. “I—I want you to touch me.”

If not for not wanting to insult her intelligence, he’d remind her he is. He's touching her everywhere she’s previously admitted him access to. But, Roman would never do that nor is he stupid. He knows exactly what she’s referring to. And there’s suddenly a part of him that feels bad, wonders if she somehow thought that was the reason for him taking them to the bed. It wasn’t that. He just wanted privacy, wanted to give her that privacy. 

“Solana, I wasn’t—”

“Roman,” she says his name again, firmer, more committed almost to her request. “I trust you.” Three words. Three little words that pack such a heavy, emotional punch. “You’re…you’re going to have to when we finally…” She trails off, shaking her head. “Pl—please.” 

He shuts his eyes, jaw clenching. That one word alone coming from her is such a dangerous thing. Dangerous because it's incapable to say no to.

But, he doesn’t necessarily have to because her hand is on his, slowly moving it down from her breast, traveling down the span of her stomach and the top of her black pants. But instead of remaining there, Solana guides it under her waistband, her tour stopping when the palm of his hand presses softly on her mons pubis, still protected under the cotton of her underwear. Her eyes shut at this contact, but it’s when his fingers flitter near the space between her legs that she gasps.

His eyes snap to hers as he’s quick to ask, “do you want me to stop?”

And she’s immediately shaking her head ‘no,’ explain, “I’m just—not used to it.” She’s already so sensitive to his touch. Roman can’t even imagine what this level of sensitivity is going to look like when they go all the way. “It’s okay.” She’s again reassuring him, even spreading her thighs a bit, giving him better access.

Roman is hard as a fucking rock, but he taps into expert level self-control as he moves his other hand to her waistband, giving a slight tug. “Can I?”

She answers in a soft voice. “Yes.”

Solana lifts her hips as he slides her black pants down her shapely legs, his mouth practically watering to see and have so much of her soft skin exposed to him. He moves his hand to caress the skin of her inner thighs. She sighs, content, and this serves as more motivation to continue his efforts in following through on her task. 

Again, he’s making sure to catch her gaze. “Do….”

And once again, she partially takes him by surprise as she closes her eyes and instead of giving him the approval to remove the only remaining article of clothing keeping her covered from him, Solana takes her fingers to her underwear and pushes down, lifting her hips slightly until they're hooked around her ankles and kicked onto the floor.

Mouth previously watering, Roman feels a sudden, intense amount of dehydration. She’s completely bare and exposed to him, her cunt so smooth and pretty, lips glistening already just from their makeout.

If not for her trauma, he’d have already had this woman more times than he could count.

But, he’d especially already had her in his mouth. Licking his lips, he does his best to keep composure, maintaining the maturity of a grown ass man vs a horny ass teenage boy whose balls haven’t even dropped.

Once more, he asks, “are you sure?”

It might be overkill to some, but one thing’s for certain, he would never go this far without gaining her consent every step of the way. 

She answers, “yes.” 

Roman nods, starting his hand at the top of her belly, gradually teasing it downward until he’s touching her, long fingers gently caressing her lips, the tips of his fingers gathering some of her essence. “How you already this wet for me?”

It’s more rhetorical than anything, but it’s partially fueled with how her stomach caves in a bit just at that initial touch. Her being so responsive to just his hands does wonders for his ego but also fuels his burning to just make her feel good.

Roman uses long, slow strokes along the areas of her vulva, never taking his eyes off her face, mouth dropping open, eyes slamming shut and head craning back. Pleasure. She feels pleasure. That’s what he wants to see. All he wants to see.

There’s not an ounce of discomfort in sight.

“Roman…” Her moaning his name might be his new favorite song. So needy and wanton. It’s got his erection fighting for its life in his boxers. “Shit….”

He smirks a bit. “Must be good if I got you cussing, baby.” It’s evident in the way she becomes swollen underneath his expert touch, eventually exposing her clit. And it’s then that he brings his thumb to her clit, pressing softly, satisfied when she arches against the bed. “That’s it….”

Such light touches, not a finger entered into her yet, and she’s already so wet. Largely due to sexual deprivation and being touch starved. Of that, he’s certain. To be almost thirty and have never been touched as such as a woman seems almost criminal. He wants to give it to her though. Give her that experience. Give her all of the experiences. 

He works his thumb around her swollen clitoris, small circles, her growing wetness all the lube and slip he needs to work her good, in the way she deserves, in only how he can have her.

“Oh my god…” She’s starting to squirm against the bed, and he fucking loves it. Loves seeing how worked up he can get her. It makes the anticipation of actually being inside of her that much better. He plays around with different touches, different techniques, studying closely what seems to evoke the strongest physical reaction. A sort of a game, a way for him to learn her body, to learn what she likes. But also, for her to learn what she likes.

“You okay?” He checks in with her, seeing her nod ‘yes’ almost frantically. If not for the fact he can see speech is a bit difficult right now, he’d press her on actual words. But, he can extend some grace. “So fucking wet….” She’s a wet, soaking mess, pussy soaking his fingers, her thighs, and the bed under her. Not that he gives a flying fuck. Seeing her like this is better than he could have imagined, just a taste of what it’ll be like to be inside of her. 

But, it’s when he teases a finger near her opening, so wet and sticky that he clenches his jaw. Just that slight probing, and he can already tell how tight she is, can imagine that tightness gripping the mess out of his dick.

Roman carefully enters one finger and observes the way she tenses, whimpers, the way her cunt clenches against him. “Relax….” He coaxes her, talks her through it, allows her to adjust to the unfamiliar stretch while his thumb continues to play with her clit, never once stopping her pleasure train. 

And when she’s adjusted, he enters another finger, stopping there, not wanting to push her too far, recognizing how big this is for her. But when she shifts again, almost rocking against his fingers, Roman responds to her, moving in sync, staying along with her song and dance. He works with her, making the hitherto motion while his other fingers continue to rub and caress her into that higher room, that place of ecstasy. 

Roman can see it coming, can see her coming, see the way she starts to grip the sheets, the biting of her bottom lip.

“I’m—I’m—”

“Ride it out, baby. Let me see how pretty you look when you come on my hand.” His words of affirmation seem to take her over the edge, damn near her entire upper half arching off the bed, her body writing as she gives into the bliss, staying on that train to euphoria. 

Roman keeps his fingers inside of her just long enough to feel that fucking amazing sensation of making her come yet again, and he can’t help himself as he brings his soaked fingers to his mouth, tasting and licking off every bit of her. His eyes shut at her taste, just as fucking sweet as he imagined. 

God, he can’t wait to have this woman. 

Coming to, Solana sits up on her elbows a bit, looking down, becoming aware of just how messy things got. And she seems a bit embarrassed, offering what’s surely the start of an unnecessary apology. “I–oh my—I didn’t.”

Roman says nothing, just gets up and moves to the bathroom, grabbing a towel off the rack and bringing it to her. He’d clean her up himself, but he doesn’t necessarily trust himself to not try for take two.

Letting her handle it is the safest route, but he can work to dissuade any thought or feeling she might have that makes her think she did anything wrong.

“I’ll buy a new fucking mattress every damn day if it means I get to make you come like that.” 

Solana has cleaned herself and the bed as best she can as she reaches to slide her underwear back on. Roman has to push away his disappointment. She has such a pretty pussy. 

Her cheeks are red, partially because of what just occurred but also her naturally shy personality. “You’re really good at that.”

“I’m good at a lot of things, Solana.” He has every intention on eventually showing her just what those remaining things are, but time and place. 

He’ll be as patient with her as she needs. 

After Solana is all cleaned up, returned to a semi state of being adequately dressed, they fall into a sense of normalcy where she lays in bed, reading and writing a bit while he finishes up some work tasks on his laptop right beside her before she drifts off into a sleep that lasts longer than he was expecting.

He’s tempted to wake her when they start to descend, partially wanting her to look out the window at the clear, blue waters that he can admit are impressive looking. But, he decides against it, waiting until they’ve landed and are ready to exit the jet.

Gently shaking her shoulder, he stirs her, “Solana, wake up.” She does so relatively easily, pretty brown eyes blinking a little in confusion as he explains. “We made it.”

Those three words help bring her to a full state of consciousness. He smiles a bit seeing how she moves quicker than what’s probably necessary to get out of the bed and slide her shoes on, looking back at him and reaching for his hand.

Roman closes his laptop and does the same, taking her hand, guiding her out the jet. They’re both instantly met with an intense heat and radiating sun shining in their direction. They’re also met with the staff and security he made sure to have lined up and ready to go upon their arrival.  He walks out first, watching and taking her hand again as she follows him, face turned up in expected confusion. 

But, before she can ask anything, one of the men offers what may be a genuine smile. Not that Roman cares about that.

He flicks his gaze between the two of them. “Welcome to Isla Mujeres, Mr. and Mrs. Reigns….”

A loud gasp next to him is unsurprising, Solana almost spinning to look around, trying to process that she’s really standing on Mexican soil.

She eventually turns to him, eyes wide and then softening into something so warm and appreciative. “Roman…”

“It’s the only way I could get you to myself and away from my annoying ass cousins—” Once again, Roman is cut off by Solana throwing her body against his for a hug that results in him easily picking her up, her legs around his waist.. Similar to the embrace at the home library one. Emotional. Grateful. Happy.

She’s laughing a bit, even with tears burning her vision. “Thank you.”

Roman doesn’t correct her this time, just murmurs a ‘you’re welcome’ and kisses her temple. He  lets her back down, hand moving to her ass. “You’re gonna have to translate while we’re here though.”

Solana shakes her head. Such a small thing in exchange for such a major act of kindness. “That’s fine.” She holds onto his arm as the staff move to take their bags from the jet while security directs them to the SUV.

Solana is looking out the window almost the entire ride, captivated by the scenery, the landscape, the beauty of it all while he’s just focused on the beauty sitting right beside him.

She asks the driver something in Spanish, the answer putting an even bigger smile on her face. She turns to him, asking, “how long are we here for?”

“A week,” Roman answers, noticing the way her eyes light up even more. “Still think we shouldn’t have come?”

She rolls her eyes and playfully shoves her body against his, grabbing his arm and laying her head against his shoulder. “I just….I don’t want to inconvenience you.”

“You could never inconvenience me. I do what I want. You know this.” His lips linger near her hairline. “And I wanted to do this for you.”

“Well, I’m appreciative. So much. You….you don’t know how much this means to me.” 

He thinks he has an idea. 

The ride from the airport to the house is approximately twenty minutes, and just like the moment Solana stepped foot off the jet, she’s got that same look of marvel painted all over her pretty place at the property.

Roman, meanwhile, is just satisfied the pictures didn’t lie. If anything, they didn’t do it justice. 

She’s almost like a child on Christmas as she asks with excitement, “is this where we’re staying?” Before he can answer, she’s indirectly apologizing. “Roman, you didn’t have to spend so much money on this place. We’re only going to be here a week. We could have just—”

“I’m rich, Solana. I only do ownership.”

Her jaw drops again. “You bought this?” He nods. She scoffs, looking around, trying to process the fact that she’s technically standing on her property. “So….so we could come back?” 

“I don’t know how often I could come with you, but you’re welcome to come and go as you please.” It goes without saying she’d have hefty security detail as well as either Bayley or Naomi attending, but beyond that, Roman could never see himself denying her this. Denying her the opportunity to connect more with her maternal side since the paternal side has only ever caused her nothing but heartache.

Here, there’s a chance to rewrite the chapter. 

She walks over to him, holding onto his forearm, asking almost tentatively. “Can I look around the house?”

“How about we do this instead?” She looks genuinely curious as he explains. “If it’s regarding your safety, you ask. If not, you just do it.” Roman’s unsurprised by her unsure expression. “I don’t get to decide how you live your life. That’s all you.”

“Unless it could present a safety risk?”

“Exactly. Cause in that case, the answer is probably no.” A part of him dislikes having a caveat, but in the world they live in, with him being who he is, he can’t take any risks. He won’t take any risks. Not when it comes to her.

Ever.

Solana nods as if she understands better now. She slides her hand down, taking his with hers as she lightly tugs on his arm. “Come with me.”

It’s an easy request. There’s not much she could ask he’d say no to. If anything. 

Solana is just as amazed by the inside of the house as the outside, especially the kitchen, the first thing she gravitates to. Naturally.

“We have to go shopping,” she shares. “So I can cook.”

“Solana, you’re not cooking while we’re here.” She frowns, a pout almost on her pretty face. “We’re celebrating your birthday. The fuck I look like you making you cook on something that’s supposed to be for you? I hired a chef for us.”

Her frown softens a bit as she lays her hand on his chest. “You’re not making me do anything. I—I like cooking. You know this.”

“I know you do, but I want you to relax and enjoy yourself while we’re here.” His hands move down to her ass. “Starting with the pool in the back.”

A small smile grows on her face. “There’s a pool?”

He nods, imagining that sexy body of hers clad in one of those skimpy two pieces he told Bayley and Naomi to make sure she purchased plenty of. “I told you. Half naked, baby.” She giggles as he squeezes her ass and lightly pushes on his chest, separating them.

“Where’s our bedroom?”

He has to think about it for a minute. “Down the hall. Should be the first or second room on the right.” Again, she grabs his hand, guiding them based upon his directions. Directions that prove correct, Solana once again taken back by the luxury of it all. The room is damn near bigger than some apartments and provides direct access to the back of the house which houses the pool and hot tub.

“This is all so beautiful…..”

“Hmmm.”

Solana briefly turns from looking out the door when two of the guards bring her and Roman’s luggage into the room. She thanks them, while Roman just seems to glare at them to get them to leave immediately, which they do.

Once alone, she turns to Roman, “can we—” He doesn’t even have to correct her. She does it all on her own. “I—I want to go see the beach.”

He smirks. Assertiveness looks damn good on her. “Then let’s go to the beach.”

________

Roman is both surprised and unsurprised when Solana walks out the bathroom, a cover up partially preventing him from seeing whatever bathing suit she picked. And his disappointment must show as she murmurs, “I’ll take it off when we get there.”

Feeling like it’ll help her feel a bit better, less self-conscious, he informs, “it’ll just be us. I had the beach….cleared, if you will.”

Obviously confused, she wonders aloud, “how….how do you clear a beach?” Solana gasps, lowering her voice as she asks in an almost scared tone. “Did you….did you kill anyone?”

“Not today. Not yet, at least.” The way her eyes widen a bit makes him chuckle. “I’m Roman Reigns, Solana.” He walks past her, adding with all of the arrogance that he can without a doubt back up, “I always get what I want.”

Solana says nothing. Not that she needs to say anything. However, she notices then what Roman was messing with on the bed before she walked out the bathroom. “What is this?” She walks over, reaching for but not touching the camera. “You bought a camera?”

“I’ve had that for years.”

Curious, she less asks and more makes a simple statement, sharing, “I didn’t know you were into photography.”

He shrugs, almost indifferent. Dismissive. “It’s an interest. Haven’t really done much of it in a while.”

“You should,” she encourages. Solana would love to see and support him embrace a side of him that isn’t so deeply embedded in his work that seems never ending. “Especially while we’re here. It’s all so beautiful…”

“I could photograph you and get the same result.”

She smiles, looking away while admitting, “I—I don’t really like having my picture taken.”

“Too bad.” She looks back at him, Roman explaining. “That’s also an insecurity thing. I told you. I’m not letting you feed your insecurities.”

A part of her is grateful for that, grateful for him. Appreciative that he always seems to remind her of these things that she still struggles to notice or believe about herself from time to time. Like the fact that she is beautiful.

“Okay,” she relents, partially knowing it’s not like Roman will give in anyway. “But…but you can’t show them to anyone.”

“Solana, I don’t like sharing you with anyone as it is. You really think I’m trying to share some pictures?” It’s a fair, valid point. “No, I won’t show them to anyone.”

Pleased with the acknowledgement, the two finish getting ready and are out the door in less than 20 minutes. Given the fact that the property is more or less on the water, they opt, more Solana, asks to walk versus driving. Roman isn’t opposed. The beach is cleared, security is roaming the property, not to mention it’s a beautiful day.

Plus, he enjoys intentionally lagging a bit behind to enjoy the jiggle of her ass as she walks ahead of him.

Truly a win-win for all.

The minute she steps foot onto the sand, enters onto the actual beach, there’s a bit of a shift. Nothing negative. The complete opposite. Roman can sense her emotion growing, the reality of finally being in her mom’s home country truly settling in. 

He’s partially surprised by just how quickly she moves to the actual water, standing in the space where sand and ocean meet.

“My mom was right….” His gaze falls on her. “It’s so beautiful.” She steps forward a bit more, wind pushing the water closer as it grazes her feet. “I want to go in.” Another slight surprise, but not entirely. A part of the reason he’s been having her get in the pool was for this very moment, to lessen and minimize her fear so she could truly embrace this experience for all it can offer.

He nods but gestures to the camera bag. “Pictures first.”

She scowls a bit, and he chuckles, pulling the camera out. “Roman…”

“Non-negotiable, baby.” And she knows this, knows he’s not letting up when it comes to building her self-esteem and demolishing her body insecurity.

“Okay….” It feels a bit strange at first, posing as Roman snaps photos of her. She’s more than certain the first set of photos look just as awkward as she feels. But as time passes and with his encouragement and slight guidance, the awkwardness melts into something similar to relaxation. Her smile is a natural thing vs the result of being told to smile. 

And even when he tells her to remove the cover up, there’s some level of apprehension about being photographed in her bathing suit, but there’s also a level of confidence and reassurance that it’s literally just the two of them.

Roman has her damn near posing like it’s a real photoshoot, and when all is said and done, she’s tugging on his arm as he puts the camera away. “Come with me.”

Solana is both surprised and thankful when he doesn’t push back on her request, doesn’t deny it. There’s an obvious level of disinterest, but it’s nothing compared to his desire to make her happy. 

And in the beautiful ocean water that brushes past in little ripples and slight waves against her shoulder, holding onto her strong, handsome husband who seems to look at her like she set all the stars in the sky, she feels just that:

Happy

________

Solana is unsure just how long they spend at the beach. Long enough that by the time they return to the house, the chef he hired for them, an older, kind woman named Maria, has dinner just about ready to serve. And it’s exactly when they finish showering and cleaning up, the plate of delicious food is laid on the table, ready to devour.

It’s a bit of a different yet pleasant experience being able to have dinner with her husband. More often than not, he has to take it in his office due to his volume of work. So having him across from her, being able to talk with him while they indulge in Pozole is a kind of happiness she could get used to. 

But, it’s later that evening when they lay in the bed, Solana’s body sprawled on top of his much bigger one, Roman’s hand under her pajama shirt rubbing her skin, that something comes over her. A desire to unload something that’s been oscillating in the back of her head, no matter how many times she tries to push it away.

“I feel bad.” 

He doesn’t look down, just asks her calmly, “about?”

Solana licks her lips. “I didn’t mean to hurt him that badly.”

Roman had a feeling that’s what she was referring to, but he didn’t want it to be true. “Solana—”

“I know. I know I defended myself, but….” She tries to word it as best she can, though she also knows there’s little to no way Roman will abandon his ardent belief that Wes got exactly what he deserved. “I keep thinking about my mom and how….she always reminded me that at the end of the day, Wes is my brother, and a lot of his behavior was because of my dad.”

Roman does his best to keep his voice leveled, to keep out the unsettled anger he holds and will always hold against her piece of shit sibling. He doesn’t want her to think any level of that anger is directed toward her. “You were kids then, Solana. Sure, Xavier probably said and influenced a lot of things, but your brother isn’t a child anymore. He’s a grown man. There’s no excuse for the things he’s said and done to you.”

None whatso–fucking—ever.

And Solana knows that, hence her expressing agreement. “I know you’re right.” Her voice drops a bit, paving way for more vulnerability. “I just….I was so angry that night, and…and I’m not an angry person. I—I don’t like that.” Before he can continue his work to take away her unrequited feelings, she asks almost over a whisper, “what does it feel like to kill someone?”

Her question takes him back a bit, but he knows why she’s asking, where it’s coming from.

“Solana—”

She sits up, looking down at him, eyes watering. “If he dies….”

He brings his hand to her cheek, comforting her, “he won’t. That bastard isn’t allowed to die. Not unless it’s by my hand.”

Roman has ensured Wes has the best medical care money can provide solely for the fact that while his beating was well-deserved, it’s paltry compared to all of the ways Roman wants to make that bastard suffer before he encounters the fiery gates of hell. 

Xavier as well.

She shakes her head, sniffling, “I don’t—I can’t live with knowing I took someone’s life. I—” Her voice cracks. “I just can’t.”

“You won’t,” he vows. Anyone who would ever need to cease to exist because they’ve wronged her in some way, he would handle. He will handle. Because he agrees. Solana is a pure soul. Despite all of the evil surrounding and done to her, she’s retained her kind heart and gentle spirit. Killing someone, taking another life, destroys that, forever pollutes the soul in a way that’s irreversible. 

Roman would die before he let that happen to her.

But the topic of this conversation, it brings something else up for Solana. Something that literally shatters her spirit to think about, let alone verbalize aloud. But, she has to tell him, can’t keep it to herself any longer. It’s not fair to him with how good he’s been to her. 

She loves him too much to continue to lie to him.

“Roman…” Her throat suddenly feels so dry, stomach weighed down by a slate of concrete. “There’s something I—”

“Shhhh.” He sits up, bringing his other hand to her cheek, fully cupping her face. “Tomorrow is your birthday, Solana. You don’t need to be this upset.” He again brushes away her tears, gently adding, “I don’t like seeing you upset.”

Her eyes shut. He has no idea the increased emotion is for an entirely different reason. “But—”

Roman seems keen on not allowing the conversation to continue, solely because he dislikes how troubled she’s getting. Sees it as unfair. “It’s gonna be fine.” He then asks, “you trust me, don’t you?” She nods softly. That’s given at this point. There’s no one she trusts more than Roman Reigns. “Then trust I’ve got this.”

Her eyes shut, as she tries to listen and marinate on his words. Her husband is adept at remaining calm and being prepared for any and everything. She…she has to trust that for right now. Trust him. 

Has to table this conversation. For now.

Roman guides her to lay back down on his chest, Solana snuggling against him. “I’ve got you, Sol.” Her heart nearly bursts at that, at the nickname she hasn’t been called in years. The name her mother often referred to her as. Her eyes shut, stomach settling, emotions subsiding in the way only Roman seems capable of orchestrating. “Always.”

________

The first thing Solana notices when she wakes up the next morning is the noticeable empty space besides her. The space where Roman should be sleeping, his muscular arm around her body, holding her against him. 

Instead, she awakes on her back, alone, with no Roman in sight.

She frowns for a few seconds, sitting up in the bed and rubbing her eyes. The sadness shifts away just as soon as it appeared. Solana knows he must either be in the gym or doing something for work. There’s very little concern that he’s ventured far.

It’s why she grabs her phone off the nightstand only to find a plethora of birthday texts and an attached photo of Dulce in the group chat with her, Naomi, Bayley, Jimmy, and Jey.

Bayley: Happy birthday, friend! Roman’s ass better be treating you like the queen you are! 💙 Love you so much and can’t wait until you get back so we can fuck up some more trucks together! 😜

Naomi: What Bayley said! Happy freaking birthday, Solana! Even if you wanted to, you ain’t getting rid of us. Sisters for life! 💚

Jey: Happy birthday, lil sis! Make sure you take lots of pics of Free Willy over there!

Jimmy: Man, you dumb asf. They supposed to look at dolphins! Not sharks! Free Willy was a shark!

Jimmy: Happy birthday, sis!

Naomi: Solana, you can feel absolutely feel free to mute this chat until you return. 😐

Bayley: Or forever.

There’s a myriad of emotions coursing through her. So much happiness. Bayley. Naomi. Jimmy. Jey. A family. They’ve become her family. 

It brings tears to her eyes and keeps her in bed a couple minutes longer as she basks in the kind words and love.

It also keys her into just what Roman has planned for her big day. That brings on an additional layer of emotionality. He’s so so good to her.

Solana: Thank you, guys. You all have no idea what you mean to me. 🥺♥️

Placing her phone on the nightstand, she finally climbs out of bed and into the bathroom to pee, brush her teeth, and wash her face. She decides against placing the robe over her pajamas. An unnecessary thing considering Roman’s seen just about all of her at this point.

It'll make telling or asking him the realization she’s come to just a tad bit easier.

Out the bathroom and down the steps, sure enough, she finds him, burly body plopped down on one of the chairs in the kitchen, Maria working away to prepare what’s probably a more than necessary, grand breakfast.

Roman’s hearing and peripheral vision is expert level, because she’s barely in the kitchen when he lifts his gaze from the open laptop in front of him and sets his sights on her. One finger beckons her in his direction. An unnecessary thing considering that’s exactly where she was already headed.

Solana is easily guided onto his lap, Roman taking index finger under her chin for a kiss that’s so soft compared to his typically rough demeanor. She smiles. “Good morning….”

He chuckles. “Morning.” His hand moves to her cheek, “happy birthday.”

Heart filled, she lays her head against his shoulder, intentionally not looking at the computer in the event it’s private but still asks. “What are you doing?”

He instead motions for her to do just that. “Look.”

She does, and instantly she’s burying her face back into him. “Roman, I hate looking at pictures of myself.” Because that’s what’s on his screen, one of the photos he took of them at the beach yesterday. 

“Too bad, cause that might be one of my new favorite things.” She smiles yet again, a given whenever she’s around him. Solana also finds herself forcing her attention back to the screen, reaching to click through the photos, most of her, which is uncomfortable but still bearable. However, her attention is mostly drawn to the ones not of her, of the beach and nature and scenery that he took. 

“These are so good.” She finds herself complimenting him, because it’s true. Added to the long list of things Roman is exceptionally good at is photography. She teases him a little. “You should photograph more.”

He scoffs, an almost bitter tone to his voice. Not directed at her, of course. “When?”

She shrugs. “I—I don’t know, but we can figure it out. If…if you like to do it, then you should do it.” And just like that, she’s determined to help him figure out just that. It’s the least she can do for him.

Truly.

Noticing Maria multitasking, Solana calls out and asks, “Maria, do you need any help?”

The older woman gasps dramatically and waves away the offer as if it was an insult. “Nonsense, child. It is your birthday. You must rest and let that handsome husband of yours treat you.”

Solana laughs a bit. 

Roman asks, “what did she say?”

“I asked her if she needs any help, and she basically told me I don’t get to do any of that cause it’s my birthday.”

“Damn straight,’ Solana giggles as he moves his hand to her hip. “We’ll leave after breakfast.”

Being honest, she dances her fingers up his arm, teasing almost, “I know where we’re going….” 

Roman gives her one of those infamous smirks which quickly drops when he realizes something. “Which one was it? Dumb or Dumber?”

Giggling, she hands him her phone, opening the group chat and showing him the messages.

His eyes rake over the words, and Solana has to bite back her laugh at the absolute irritated expression painted on his handsome face when he’s done. “Even hundred fucking miles away, they ruin shit.”

She kisses his cheek, wanting to calm him down. “It’s okay.” Solana suddenly asks. “Are you gonna do it with me?”

He gives her a look. “That’s for you, Sol. Not me.”

She pouts a little, gently reminding him, “but…it can be for the both of us.”

“Swimming with Dolphins screams you. Not me.” He adds on with an almost scowl and shake of his head. “I’m too old for that shit.” Curious, he switches the topic a bit, asking, “does our age difference bother you?”

“I never really thought of it,” she answers, honestly. Roman being older than her truly has never been anything she’s considered to be an issue. At the beginning of this whole arrangement, she had a slate of other much more relevant reasons to be cautious and wary. All of those reasons almost making her laugh a bit because they’re so far away from the truth. “So, no.” She shrugs, adding. “I—I never really had good luck with guys my age anyway.” Or, at all, really. “Besides….” She chews on her bottom lip, coyly starting off a leading sentence, “there’s nothing about you that bothers me….except—”

Roman is every bit as eager as he looks for the rest. “Except?”

She bats her eyelashes, almost intentionally trying to butter him up. “If you could be a little nicer to your cousins….”

“Baby, how many times do we have to have this conversation?” He once again reiterates what, in his mind, should be painfully obvious. “I’m not a nice person.”

“But you are,” she stresses, fingers moving through his beard. “You are to me.”

“It’s different with you, Solana.” He’s not necessarily in the space to explain just how it’s different, but it is. She’s in a category all on her own. “Look….do my cousins piss me off at least 8 times a day? Yes. Do I have thoughts of homicide regarding them at least once a day? Sure. But….” He blows out a breath. “We’ve been friends since we were little kids. They’re family. I would die for them just as quickly as I know they would die for me.”

While she understands his point and is grateful for his level of openness and vulnerability, Roman and death in the same sentence brings out an almost physical reaction on her part.

That’s not even something she can tolerate thinking about.

She would lose her fucking mind if something were to ever happen to him. 

Solana is desperate to change the subject, needing something, literally anything, other than Roman dying to think about. “I….I know what I want you to give me for my birthday.”

His brow lifts as he asks with a bit of attitude. “You planning on telling me, considering it’s here?”

She smiles softly, finger trailing down his face. “Later….” Solana climbs off his lap, rubbing her stomach. “Right now, I just want to eat breakfast with my husband.”

________

It’s called Dolphin Discovery. The activity Roman has planned for the morning of her birthday, and it consists of exactly what the title implies as well as what Jimmy and Jey unintentionally spoiled for her.

Not that that’s a big deal, per se.

It doesn’t dim her excitement. The way her smile is painted on her face at the private event Roman arranged for just them, the only other people are the staff and instructors who guide the event. 

Solana is even able to convince Roman to join her for a short period of time in the water, granted he looks irritated and uninterested the entire time. Still, she knows his focus and priority is just making sure she has a nice time.

And she does. 

It’s full of smiles and laughter. 

Just as the rest of the day as Solana asks to go to the beach after, fully enamored with the crystal clear water and beauty that is the island of las mujeres. Of course, this comes with the almost stipulation from Roman that he has to photograph her again.

She’s less uncomfortable this time around, posing for his photos without as much reservation. The decreased inhibitions largely due to her overall happiness. Solana hasn’t felt so great, so in love with life for a very long time.

If ever. 

But, she’s even more touched when Roman guides them back to the beach later that evening what’s a private dinner for just the two of them.

“Roman….” She can’t help to take in the beautiful set up as he pulls out the seat for her. “This is so beautiful….”

He takes her in as he sits opposite of her, the way her dress hugs her so beautifully, the soft set of her eyes as she continues to marvel, smiling so genuinely at the setup. “Very…”

She brings her attention back onto him, reminding, “Roman, you really….you really didn’t have to do all of this. I would have been just as happy back home with you.”

“That’s too boring.” He dismisses, reaching across the table for her hand. “Too close to people. I wanted you to myself.”

She smiles, teasing him a bit. “Is that why it’s just been mostly you and me so far?”

“Damn straight.” 

She giggles, head tilted as she turns his hand over, tracing the lines of his palm. “Me haces muy feliz….”

His eyes squint with intrigue. “You’re really going to make me learn Spanish, aren’t you?”

“No,” she answers softly, focused on her gesture with his hand. “I’m…I’m not saying anything you don’t already know.”

“Which is?” 

Her eyes lift to his, locking intensely. “How much I care about you.” 

How much I love you.

That part…..that he doesn’t know. Or maybe he does. Solana knows she wears her heart on her sleeve to a certain extent. Knows how perceptive her husband is. But, if he has noticed, he hasn’t said anything. And she’s partially grateful for that, because acknowledging her love for him, internally anyway, is something that she’s okay with. Something she doesn’t really question.

She can’t say the same for him.

Love and Roman have a complicated history she can’t even begin to truly understand. It may not be something he feels capable of anymore, not after the kind of loss he experienced. And she can understand that. She’s okay with that. Because the way he treats her, the way he makes her feel, the happiness he brings her….it’s more than enough.

It’s all she needs.

The dinner itself is just as wonderful as any other meal they’ve had the past two days, but what Solana mostly enjoys is the conversation. Being able to talk to and with Roman has easily become one of her favorite things. Their conversation never goes stale, and even when she worries she’s annoying him, he keeps it going.

He truly is becoming one of her best friends. Not in the same way Naomi and Bayley have. Something different, something deeper almost. Still as appreciated. 

And it’s when the dinner comes to a close, Solana is once again taken back by Roman’s nearly limitless generosity when he gifts her a set of bracelets, Louis Vuitton, Cartier, and other luxury brands she’s certain the combination of cost equalling what some people pay for homes let alone jewelry. 

The depth of his kindness toward her will never cease to amaze her.

Back at the house, she has a bit of a hard time getting him to use the shower in the master bedroom vs using the one down the hall. She comes up with a weak excuse regarding shower design preference, and while she’s certain he doesn’t believe her one bit, he lets it go.

And Solana is utterly grateful, because she needs to be completely separated in order to prepare for the thing she’s wanted and thought about since last night, since she decided it’s truly what she wants.

Everything he’s done thus far has been more than thoughtful, but this….this is something on an entirely different level. 

She’s just stepped out the shower and wrapped the towel around her body when a random thought about what tonight could and most likely will entail flashes in her mind. 

Solana closes her eyes and tries to ignore the aching between her legs, even if she knows it’s a fruitless effort. 

Roman has been an absolute saint, patient beyond belief with her and this gradual process of working up to being intimate. Always checking in with her every step of the way.

But…..but lately, she finds herself….thinking about him in….different ways. Wondering what it would be like to finally go all the way. To be with him fully in that way.

Ways she previously couldn’t allow herself to think about. Too hindered by the memories of her trauma. 

Yet with him, it’s something unlike what she’s used to. Her chest doesn’t feel like it’s about to explode, and she doesn’t find herself panicking, needing to push him away from her, to not have any hands on her because they all feel the same, the same as her rapists.

With Roman…..that’s not her story. It’s just him she sees, feels, wants.

By the time she’s done with her shower, Solana has to reach across the bathroom counter to wipe her hand across the fogged mirror. She hits the switch for the vent and digs through her toiletries bag for the essentials and gets into her routine, focusing way too much on what she’s doing to avoid the thought sitting impatiently in the back of her head.

But, it’s when she’s reached the end of her routine and goes to grab her bra and panties she had sitting on the counter, that she pauses.

Scared.

Solana realizes that’s one of the dominant emotions she’s struggling with. She’s scared to go for what she wants. It’s a tale as old as time. Fear is always the thing that holds us back the most, that keeps us from reaching goals, attaining desires, being freed.

For so long, she believed that she was damaged. That the trauma of her past made it impossible for her to ever have a healthy sexual relationship with another person. But Roman has changed that. He’s changed her life in so many ways, and now, she is presented with the chance and opportunity to take back her power, to reclaim her sexuality.  

And now….she’s ready to do just that. 

Solana slowly retracts her hand and instead slides her pink, silk gown over her head, ignoring the almost strange feeling of having nothing underneath her dress. Solana keeps staring at her reflection, mentally going over everything: floss, mouthwash, deodorant, lotion, perfume on all of her pulse points. 

When she realizes that she’s only stalling, she forces herself to leave the bathroom. Solana makes her way down the hall and into the master. She’s relieved to see he’s still in the bathroom and decides to sit and wait on the edge of the bed. Similar to how her nerves are on edge. In the bathroom, the pep talk was more motivating and inspiring. Now, in this space, her anxiety is doing those damn flips again. 

“Solana?” Her head lifts and she stands up. Roman is standing near the bathroom door, shirtless, gray sweats hanging dangerously low, his hair down. Solana watches his gaze darken, slowly taking in her immodest state, focusing on the clear outline of her nipples pressing against the thin material. “What are you—”

She says nothing and instead grabs his hand, leading him to the bed. She switches their positions and guides him to sit on the end of the bed as she straddles him, her legs on either side of him. Solana refuses to think about the possible exposure from this position and instead focuses on him.

“I want you,” is all she says, quiet but sure. “I want you for my birthday.”

His face reads a mixture of emotions, primarily confusion. 

And lust.

“Solana….” He seems to want to move his hands to her waist but hesitates. “I didn’t….that’s not why I brought you here. I would never pressure you—”

“I know,” she interrupts, softly. “You’ve always let me set the pace, so….so let me set it now.” She brings her hands to his face, looking him dead in the eye as she repeats, “What I want for my birthday….is you.” A fleeting thought creeps across her mind when she adds, “unless….unless you don’t want me th—”

Roman switches their positions so quickly that she can barely process what’s happening until she’s flat on her back with him hovering above her. His eyes are fluttering as he works to settle himself, breathing out, “I’ve always wanted you, baby. Just needed you to tell me when.”

She licks her lips and lightly glides her fingers over his abs. He’s so firm. “And now?”

“Now?” Roman moves his hand to her knees, slowly prying them apart. She breathes in as he starts to move his fingers up the inside of her legs. “After tonight, ain’t nobody else gon’ have you like this,” his thumb brushes over her inner thigh and she grabs his bicep. “Feel you like this,” Solana’s head goes back into the bed when he glosses his fingers over her apex. “Or taste you like this but me.” Their gazes lock. “Understood? You’re mine.”

His tone is commanding and authoritative. She can mumble a quiet ‘yes’ in agreement when his head drops between the crook of her neck, his hair fanning her face, pulling his hand from between her legs. “Promise me you’ll tell me if we need to stop.” 

She gently caresses the back of his neck, reassuring him. “Roman, I’m fin—”

“Solana,” he interrupts. There’s no denying or questioning of the seriousness in his tone of voice. “Promise me.”

She nods and rakes her fingers over his scalp. “I promise.”

Roman is visibly pleased by this, eyes raking over her body. “Good.” He lowers his lips to hers, hands moving to explore her body. “So fucking pretty….”

The light kiss easily progresses into something more intense, something deeper, something that has her feeling so flustered and warm all over. His pants are quickly discarded, leaving him in boxers only. Roman continues to massage and knead her breast, along with the palming of her ass yet still makes active efforts to receive consent, always checking her comfort levels.

Initiating this is major.

Her lips are nice and swollen when he starts kissing around her face before grabbing her hand and turning it over. Two long fingers press against her wrist. 

He doesn’t say anything for a good minute, prompting her to ask, “what are you—”

“Do you trust me?” 

There’s not a second of hesitation or delay. “Of course.” 

“I need to relax you more.” With his free hand, his thumb flicks over her nipple as he explains, just as tender as every other thing he’s done to maintain her comfort. “You’re still tensing a bit under me, and the more tense you are, the more it’s going to hurt, and I don’t want to hurt you…”

Swallowing, she replies back in the same soft tone. “You could never hurt me, Roman.” His eyes flash with something almost soft. Like affection. Like something deeper. “But…I understand. What…what do you want me to do?”

“I don’t want you to do anything. Tonight is about you.” Her eyes flutter shut as he brings his mouth back to her neck, speaking against her soft skin. “Just want you to let me take care of you…” And it’s as he continues to travel down her body, tugging at her dress as much as he can to press a trail of kisses between the valley of her breast, and halting near her covered belly button that she understands what he’s asking her.

And suddenly her cheeks are on fire. Solana isn’t entirely naive. She knows that plenty of people engage in oral sex, but she’s also heard a lot of men prefer not to. Prefer to receive rather than give. “I…..you….you don’t have to—”

“Solana, I’ve wanted to taste you since the first day I met you.” His words, dark and dripping with need make her bite down on her bottom lip as his finger trails along her inner thigh. “Will you let me?”

She’s insecure and a shade of unsure for reasons entirely unrelated to her trauma. Maybe there’s some influence there, but it’s primarily the intimacy of it all. But, she then realizes he’s eventually going to be inside of her before the night ends, so his mouth being on her most intimate area….isn’t really a major difference.

Swallowing, she answers, voice catching for a second with a need she didn’t recognize until this moment. “Y–yes.”

His eyes light with desire, but he doesn’t miss a beat in reminding her yet again that she’s fully in control tonight. “Tell me to stop and we stop. I don’t care what’s happening. All I care about is you. Alright?” 

Solana nods. “O–okay.”

Roman kisses her stomach and wastes no time in helping her remove her dress, leaving her fully exposed to him, physically and emotionally. Slowly, he pries her thighs apart, seeing how she bites on her bottom lip when he teases a finger against her. 

“Still so sensitive…..” There’s a level of intrigue there, Solana watching Roman push his hair back, his tongue exiting his mouth and wetting his lips. “You’ll get used to me.”

She’s not sure she could ever get used to a man like Roman, and the minute his tongue flattens against her there, she’s almost certain she’ll never get used to that.

“Oh my god.”

He looks up at her, Solana suppressing a moan at the sight of his big body between the space of her thighs, mouth curved into a wry smile. “I barely touched you, baby….”

That doesn’t stop the fire coursing through her body.

“You want me to stop?” A frantic shaking of her head to signify a hell no is all he needs. He’ll settle for no verbal acknowledgement this time. “Good.” Salona gasps as he hooks the back of her knees over his big shoulders. “Now lay back and let me take care of you...”

It seems like all Roman has done is take care of her, but this is a new level of care, one that has her scratching and gripping helplessly at the sheets as he licks at her one, two, three times before his tongue darts around and plays with her in a way that makes her stomach tangled and twisted.

Solana whimpers when he starts sucking on her clit. “Fuck being inside you, just let me stay with this sweet pussy in my mouth.”

For a second, she considers it, because the way he laps and sucks on her has her brain practically fried trying to comprehend how just his tongue alone can have her nearly worming off the bed.

His big, strong hands grip her thighs, holding her in place as he never once lifts his head for air.

“Roman…..”

“You taste better than I imagined.” She swears she feels him kiss her slick folds. “Gonna have you sit on my face the next time….”

The terror at that thought is short lived and stomped upon by his hands traveling up her body, gripping her breast, squeezing just enough to make her moan yet again, head pressed back into the pillow. 

His name slips out her mouth for what feels like the 20th time as she moves her hands on top of his, stomach arching, pussy pressing further against his mouth. He makes a sound down there, but sound isn’t the focus when all of her most sensitive nerve endings are being so beautifully catered to.

But then it becomes too much, Roman switching to a lethal combination that includes sucking on her clit while two fingers enter inside her. It has her nearly jumping off the bed, unintentionally inching away from him.

Roman hums against her lifting up only to warn, “stop running from me, baby.” He’s playing with the mess she’s made, essence practically dripping from his beard. “This pussy is too good to not indulge myself.”

And before she can protest, can try to find some words to string together, he’s back in between her legs, and Solana finds her hands moving to the top of his hand. She can’t tell if she wants to just shove him away or shove him closer. 

A strange yet wonderful dichotomy. 

There’s no telling how long he’s down there, feasting so eagerly on her like he’s been waiting on this. Like, he’s been yearning for this. The same way Solana is starting to realize she too unintentionally wanted this. Wanted to know what it could and does feel like to be intimate, to have those normal, sexual needs met. It was just all hidden and obscured behind a dense wall of trauma the same man bringing her to heaven has helped her dismantle. 

She owes him so much.

Especially for the way he gives her an orgasm that has her wanting to scream his name loud enough for anyone within 100 miles to hear. That just might have been the case too if she didn’t press her lips together as she rode out her orgasm, Roman still remaining between her thighs as he helps her through it, letting her ride out her pleasure still against his greedy mouth.

He seems so hungry for her. 

When he finally makes his way up, presses his lips against her, Solana moans at the taste of herself on his mouth. He smirks against her lips.

“I told you I’m good at a lot of things..”

She smiles, her eyes blinking. “Roman, I—I’m ready.”

He doesn’t look surprised, but he does look hesitant. “Solana….”

“This is what I want. I—I want to be with you….fully.” Even as the words leave her mouth, the aftershock of her orgasm still trying to subside, she’s nervous. She’s nervous because there will always be that small voice in the back of her head telling her she shouldn't, that she can’t, that sex has been forever ruined for her. 

But, it’s almost as if just looking at Roman, at feeling his desire and care for her, it snuffs those voices out, locks them in a closet with a key that he’ll make sure is never found. “I—I want you inside me.”

And there’s something either about that or the way she words it that seems to trigger the okay switch for him. He gently traces the outline of her lips. “We’ll take it slow.” 

She nods as he brings his fingers to her wrist again. Her pulse. She realizes he’s checking for her pulse, trying to gauge her heart rate, assessing for any spiked anxiety. 

“You’re relaxed, but…it still might hurt at first.”

“I know,” she murmurs, heat rising to her cheeks as she explains so simply yet accurately. “It’s…it’s because you’re big.”

Roman smiles, and that alone chips away a chunk of her anxiety. His smile is so beautiful.

It’s not missed upon her, however, that he doesn’t deny it. Not that he can. She’s heard enough, felt enough, even seen enough to some extent to know that he is very much an overall big man. And yet there’s not a damn thing about him that she finds intimidating, that she’s scared of.

His strength doesn’t scare her. Not anymore.

Just makes her feel safe. 

Solana feels him shift atop her, but she doesn’t remove her gaze from the vaulted ceiling above them. He’s most likely removing his boxers, the only piece of clothing separating that part of him from that part of her. 

She tries to lower her eyes down between their heated bodies, partially wanting to see him for herself, to see what’s about to enter her when Roman brings his hand under her chin, forcing her gaze back onto him. “It’s just you and me….okay?”

Her eyes flutter closed for a second as she nods, opening and breathing back, “you and me…”

Roman lowers his mouth back onto hers, taking her for a slow sensual kiss that’s timed perfectly with the exact moment the thick tip of his dick gradually descends into her tight, wet opening. Solana gasps into his mouth, taken back by the stretch of him, a slight burning sensation that’s eased by the way he kisses her jawline, asking if she wants him to stop.

The answer is easy. 

“N–no. I’m fine.” She murmurs, grabbing him by his face and kissing him again, utilizing the talent of his mouth on hers to blur away the borderline discomfort of his initial entry. Roman is certainly well endowed and an initial level of pain is to be expected, both from his size and her experience. But, she needs his kisses to keep her from gravitating to that other painful experience, to keep her from getting triggered.

And something tells her that he knows as much without her needing to say anything. He’s consistent and dedicated in keeping his mouth on hers, his tongue raking across her bottom lip before he enters in yet another part of her. She does her best to keep up with him, to match his passion, but deep pants often break their rhythm as he continues to sink into her. He feels so deep, and he’s not even all the way in.

And when she’s moaning and groaning at the newfound stretch of him, his voice is in her ear apologizing, asking again if she wants him to stop. The answer is the same as before. Just worded differently.

“I want all of you.” 

The good. The bad. It doesn’t matter. She just wants him.

Roman is the one to groan this time, resting his forehead against hers, “fuck, you’re so tight.”

Once finally and fully seated in her, Solana is grateful that he gives her a second to breathe, to adjust to this new sensation. Still uncomfortable, the fullness in such a sensitive area, but also comforted by Roman, by his constant attempts to assess her comfort levels. It’s why after a few minutes she glides her hands up his arms and encourages him to continue. “M–move.”

He’s studying her, like he’s done at every point throughout this process. “Are you sure?”

She nods and quickly remembers his one rule. “Yes.”

Though her eyes are closed, Solana can feel Roman’s gaze burning into her as he shifts his hips, the thickness of him slowly sliding out of her, lessening that fullness only to slowly re-enter, bringing it right back. He keeps this pace, slow and gradual, working her as gently as he can, never not watching for any sign of distress. 

And it’s at some point that burning sensation washes away into something unfamiliar but desirable. It morphs into a form of pleasure that has her head slipping back against the pillow, her stomach starting to cave under his expert thrusts. His name falls out her mouth in the form of a breathy moan. “Roman….”

“Does that feel good?” She cries out as he kisses her shoulder, hand kneading her breast. “Tell me what feels good.”

The answer is easy, “everything.” And she means it, there’s not a trace of pain she can identify as she moves her hands up his muscular back as he switches up his pace, quicker but deeper thrusts that have her nails digging into his taut skin. “Oh….”

His head drops down in the crook of his neck. “God, you feel fucking amazing.” His hands drop to her hips, pulling her up to meet him thrust for thrust. “Could stay inside of you like this for hours….”

Solana chews down on her bottom lip, back arching as he adjusts his hips, reaching her even deeper, hitting another sensitive spot that has her eyes watering. “Roman.”

“That’s it. Say my name, baby.” And she does, again and again, his name a song on her lips that’s sweet music he wants to keep on repeat for the rest of his life. “You don’t know what you do to me, Solana.”

Whatever it is can’t be as good as he’s making her feel. Solana could scream from the absolute rapture he’s bringing her body, elevating her to places unseen and almost too good to be real. 

“Te quiero mucho.”

He has no idea what she just said, but he has no doubt it’s an expression of bliss, and it only encourages him to dive deeper, to rut into her a little harder. Her pleasure is the roof, but that’s a limitation. He doesn’t do limitations.

He wants to never stop hearing his name leave her mouth, breathy and wanton. She’s a mess underneath him, wet ass pussy gushy, gripping the shit out of him like he’s never experienced. It actually takes a bit of effort on his his part to not come before she does, a arduous task considering she’s never looked more fucking beautiful being underneath him like this, every little facial expression making his dick pulse inside of her.

Roman has always heard people say sex is even better when it’s someone you actually care about. He never believed that shit. He never believed that shit until now. Because he’s never felt something, never felt someone, as good as what Solana feels right now.

If not for her trauma, wouldn’t nobody be getting any sleep tonight. He’d stay in this pussy, have it in his mouth, have it in any and all ways until the wee hours of the morning. Sleep be damned.

But, this isn’t about him. It’s about her. It’s all about her, and he’ll do whatever she wants, whatever she needs. Even if selfishly, he’s working to prolong her climax just as much for his pleasure as hers.

He doesn’t ever want to pull out.

And maybe it’s also the fact that he’s never been with anyone else raw. Never had that skin to skin experience, feeling slick pussy directly against his hardened dick.

Possibly.

Regardless, after tonight, if it’s not Solana, he doesn’t want it.

Her pussy is premier and just for him.

But, it’s when he takes a brief pause, to switch their positions, situating her on top of him, he sees the nervousness wreck her beautiful face.

“Roman. I—I don’t—I don’t know how–” And it’s as she protests, as she tries to explain to him she doesn’t know what to do, doesn’t know how to please him like that, Roman brings his hands to her hips, tugging her forward just enough for her mouth to drop open from the friction, from the way he presses into her, hitting yet another spot that has her eyes nearly watering all over again. “Oh my….”

His eyes are blazed with desire and yearning as he encourages her. “That’s it…..” Her eyes shut, the sound of him asking, “are you okay?” an almost distant thing, an almost inconceivable question. Everything about everything he’s done to and for her has felt more than okay. It’s felt heavenly. 

The same way her hands naturally plant against his chest, less of him directing her movements and more of her riding him from her own volition.

The tips given to her by Bayley and Naomi just weeks prior return to the forefront of her mind, and Solana finds herself moving her hips, grinding on top of him as if she was spelling her name. 

And almost instantly, Roman’s eyes are shutting too as he sings all of her praises, “fuck, just like that baby.”

She moves against him, riding him with a growing intensity that’s only matched by the level of desire on both of their ends. It feels fucking ethereal.

And when he can sense the pending fatigue in her body, Roman sits up, hands moving down her smooth back to her hips and guides her body against him, hitting her spot even deeper, Solana’s cries of pleasure a continuing symphony of bliss.

“You feel me, baby? Feel me in you like this?” Her head drops against his shoulder as she holds onto him, their bare, slick chests pressed against each other.

She whimpers against him, “god, yes.”

“I told you I would make you feel good, didn’t I, sweetheart?” She nods frantically only to cry out yet again when he glides his hand down and peppers his thumb over her swollen clit. “Gonna take care of you every single time. I don’t care how or where. You want it, imma give it to you.”

His voice takes on a darker tone, reminiscent of his reputation, a testament of the depth of his feelings for her. “I’ll kill anyone who tries to take you from me.” She gasps against him, yet another wave of pleasure shooting through her core. “Burn this whole fuckin’ world down….”

There’s something about his words, about his dedication to her, to keeping her safe. To keeping her with him. She lifts her head and brings her hands to his cheeks, making him lock gazes with her. “No one could ever take me from you.”

Roman just looks at her. 

Something happens. A shift. A move. A disturbance of some sort. It’s as if something snaps in half the minute his eyes lock onto hers. He doesn’t move, and neither does she. No one says anything. It almost feels like no one is breathing. Her gaze on him is just as his is on hers. Deep. There’s something happening at the soul level. A tying of some sort. A connection. 

A bond. 

Unbreakable. Unshakable.

Eternal. 

And it’s with an almost unheard non-existent level of vulnerability that Roman practically whispers against the slick skin of her shoulder, pressing a soft kiss. “I need you, Solana.” 

Her eyes water. The connection. The emotion. The love of it all. She doesn't know if he’s feeling the last one, but she certainly is, and it’s the best feeling in the world. “You’ll always have me.” She moans, whimpering as he starts moving her again, nudges that spot yet again. “Te amo con toda mi alma, Roman."

This man now has her: mind, body, and soul.

Her better half.

Her missing piece 

It aids in the build up, her fingers squeezing against his muscular shoulders. “I’m—I’m gonna—“

“I know,” his voice is strained, his body tensing up underneath her. Solana knows he’s not far behind. He quickly switches their positions, wanting her underneath him, spreading her thighs further to maximize the full pleasure of this final ride. 

Hand to his chin, she forces his gaze on her, reminding him with a hint of vulnerability. “You and me.” Her release is almost immediate, a fountain of tightness and pressure that’s both wonderful and all encompassing, forcing her to lay her head against his shoulder, holding onto him as she rides out her climax.

And it’s not even minutes later that his release finds him just as strong, just as heavy, just as fucking shattering.

Roman lets go, big body jerking above her as he releases inside of her, the mixture of their togetherness creating an absolute mess that coats almost all of their lower halves. But, she doesn’t care, just continues to hold onto him as he empties until there’s nothing left. 

Solana groans quietly as he pulls out of her, the absence of him creating a strange, unfamiliar void that’s moderately eased as he plops down on his back next to her, immediately pulling her onto his chest.

This settles her almost instantaneously. 

He kisses the top of her head, gently rubbing her back. “Did I—did I hurt you?”

She smiles against him. The answer to that question has and will always be the same. “No. Never.” Tears burning her eyes, she murmurs into his skin. “You set me free.”

Because, he did. Because after tonight, there’s no turning back. There’s no block or wall of trauma that can stop her from experiencing this. From truly being able to say that while her assault fractured her, it damn sure didn’t break her. 

Roman’s deep voice above her offers a low, gentle rebuttal. “You did that, Sol.” And as if emotions weren’t high enough as it is, he has to send her nearly overboard with his next simple but powerful statement. “you said yes.”

Eyes closing, she has to sit on it, has to rest in it, has to feel it. With all the emotion, she reaffirms it, reclaims her voice, her autonomy, yet another piece of her life. “I said yes…..”

----------

translations:

“Te quiero mucho.” = "I love you so much."

"Lo’u Au" = Someone who is your absolute favorite

"Me haces muy feliz" = "You make me very happy."

"Te amo con toda mi alma, Roman" = "I love you with all my soul, Roman."

"Yo siento muy bien contigo" = "I feel happy with you."

[gguk-n]

Soul's tapestry (Yuki Tsunoda x Reader)

Summary- In a world where soulmates exist. Some people get to experience memories of their soulmates which may lead them to each other. Yuki feels like every new food he tries, still seems familiar.

Y/N was an avid traveller. As soon as she was able to, she had set out to experience new countries, new cultures and their heritage. But there were a few country she visited, even though it was her first time, she felt like she had been there. Most people call it deja vu, but she knew. Her soulmate had been there too. That feel was warm and fuzzy to know she got to share this with her soulmate.

She had been able to sense her soulmate's memories from a young age. She couldn't really see them as clearly and her family told her it was because they would grow vivid as the time of her meeting would draw close. It excited her, one of the main catalyst for her little travelling. She hadn't realised than but her soulmate was a bit of globe trotter, she thought. She hoped that even he would be able to feel her presence in her memories, so she made sure to try every new cuisine there was to offer.

Yuki Tsunoda was a Formula One driver, which meant he barely got to live at home, having left in his early years. But there was one thing that kept him company, it was his soulmate's memories. He found comfort in food since a lot of those gave him a warm feeling. He would smile to himself when the food tasted familiar even though it was his first time. That was where his innate desire to cook for people began. He wanted to cook delicious food for the people he loved, especially his soulmate.

He noticed how some places, when he would revisit them during the next race year had a familiarity to it. He could feel his soulmate's memory of enjoying her time there. He had began to hope to run into her some day and be able to share in all these experiences.

From the start of 2024, all these memories had become vivid for the both of them. They could see their soulmate in different countries; they didn't know what they did but they got to see each country through their eyes.

It was the Japanese grand prix and Yuki hadn't been home in a really long time, especially during the cherry blossom season. On his flight to Japan, he saw a very vivid memory of his soulmate stood in a cherry blossom garden with the petals rustling and falling from the wind. He felt his breath hitch, there were butterflies in his stomach. Was it time? Was he really going to meet his soulmate in a few days?

Y/N had been wanting to see Japan during the cherry blossom season for years now. And now that she was here, she felt tears in her eyes as she watched the beautiful trees in bloom and the people walking around with their soulmate. She hoped to one day share this with him. She had a vivid memory of a race track. She wasn't sure that there was a race, she didn't keep up with sports but maybe her soulmate was here for that. She wondered if she should try to find it or him.

Like clockwork, fate was working it's magic. Y/N was at the cherry blossoms for the last day of bloom before they would wither away. She tried to take as many pictures as possible to remember this moment. And as she was clicking a picture, her camera landed on a man, in middle looking around and searching for something. She slowly put her camera down and looked him, frantically scanning the area until their eyes met. That familiar feeling was back. Like they'd know each other their whole life. Without even knowing, she started walking towards him. Right now, they both stood in front of each other with the petals falling. "I guess the myth is true" Yuki said holding the cherry blossom petal in his hand. There was saying, if you caught the cherry blossom petal than whatever you wished for would come true. "What did you wish for?" Y/N asked. "A lot of things. But the most important one just came true" Yuki said. "I guess we both wished for the same thing than" she smiled at him. "I'm Yuki Tsunoda" he smiled holding his hand. "I'm Y/N Y/L/N" she said shaking his.

[darkmist111]

Something I wish was talked about more is that Percy wasn’t told about the full Great Prophecy until days before it was set to occur.

And the implications of who knew, and how it changes the view of people’s actions in that context.

Let’s start off with who knew for sure, Annabeth, Luke, Chiron, and all the gods.

Annabeth has been the one that’s been analyzed the most I think. Her abandonment issues, combined with the knowledge that the best friend she made and boy she loves most likely has a expiration date. She pulls away and is reluctant to open up on her feelings. She spends alot of time bracing for pain she thinks is coming.

Chiron spends a good portion of the time being honestly very pessimistic with Percy, talking about heroes that died tragically, gods that probably don’t care, and honestly usually looks at Percy like he’s already dead. There are many times in the book where Chiron gets a far away look and Percy thinks he’s thinking of fallen heroes but it might be he’s thinking about how the Hero before him is due to die in a couple years.

You will never catch me defending Luke Castellan’s actions, but with the context of the Great prophecy, I can understand how in a twisted way his actions might have made sense. If this kids is gonna die in a couple years anyway why not kill him now? Why wait just so he can die a slower death possibly in service to a broken system. It also kinda makes sense why he wouldn’t recruit him, since he’d be just recruiting him to die for his cause instead of the gods. That part is speculation though since he has no problem later sending demigods to their death for his cause.

The gods are pretty easy to tell with their motives, self centered, they care more about their survival than a single mortals’. Poseidon however is honestly painted in a pretty bad light. The apology of “I’m sorry you were born” takes a different meaning when you think he know that Percy is gonna die. ���I’m sorry you were born only to die.” Not only that but his distance to Percy even after his heritage is revealed takes a different tone. Is he avoiding puting time into his son not just because he is a god but because he might die? Granted he’s immortal so Percy was going to die anyway. But did he avoid telling Percy because he didn’t want him to think less of him?

And then we get onto who theoretically knew.

Specifically, did Sally, Grover, or Thalia know?

Sally Jackson is a goddess let me just preface that, but much like other goddesses she’s not perfect.

Is it possible Poseidon told her of the prophecy? If she knew is it possible she hid it from Percy? I love Sally but she does have a habit of keeping things that could hurt Percy from him until the last possible moment. And honestly this is much worse than the other things she’s withheld from him.

Did Grover know? Even with the empathy link, it transfers emotions more than thoughts. Which brings us to another interesting point. If Grover knew the Prophecy did he form a Empathy link knowing he would probably die in a couple years? Or did he not know and Annabeth Chiron and others failed to tell him that? We’re people expecting Grover to die in a couple years? Was he informed? Did people try to get him to cut his Empathy Link, without telling him? Did Juniper know?

And finally we have Thalia, the most underutilized character in all the series, and I don’t feel like I’m exaggerating when I say that.

Did Thalia know and when did she know it? Did she know before being turned into a Tree? Did she know after she was revived? Did she know during the Titan’s Curse? Did she know after she became a hunter? All of these can drastically change how her choice at the end of Titans Curse could be viewed.

If she knew before her death, it adds a layer to Luke and Annabeth, not only was their friend killed but most likely, another will be killed in her place.

If she was informed after she was revived or knew during Titan’s curse it adds a level of stress from her perspective, not only did she die to save her family, one who became a traitor and sacrificed the other to unleash a Titan, but she is know being told she’ll probably die in a couple months to a year.

And if she was informed after she became a Hunter? Did that make her regret her decision? Second guess herself? Did she feel guilty because she basically sacrificed Percy to save her own life? Did she try and avoid Percy out of guilt?

And I think what’s really interesting is that if Percy wasn’t such a good guy, and was more pessimistic and darker in how he view people and these motivations, he could easily reinterpret people’s actions with the prophecy in mind to their worst possible conclusion.

Him getting together with Annabeth only after the Great Prophecy could be seen as her writing him off as not worth it like so many others in his life, only willing to take the leap after the threat had passed.

He could see Chiron holding back on training because Percy might not be alive long enough to make full use of them. Writing him off as another tragic hero.

He could see Luke as worse or better, understanding that the gods do use them but also seeing Luke as another mentor giving up on him as a lost cause before really getting to know him.

He could see Poseidon withholding the truth as a manipulation tactic to give him the illusion of hope up until the point where he can’t back out anymore.

He could see Sally starting a relationship and trying to build a life while Percy is going through these trials as her preparing for her son to die, trying to make it so she has a life that can survive his death.

He could see Thalia’s decision to trust him with the prophecy, not as one of faith but avoiding death by using him as a sacrifice. Her doing the same thing Luke did, and what Percy wouldn’t do to others like Bessie.

Honestly the only one that couldn’t be spun in a bad direction is Grover. But if Grover didn’t know than I can imagine Percy would be angry at those that didn’t inform him since Percy’s life very much is linked to Grover’s. Did Juniper know her Boyfriend was also marked for death?

All of that being said Percy really is a good guy.

I sometimes forget how compassionate he is without thought, even to those who don’t deserve it.

It would be so easy to be angry bitter and spiteful when you’re told you only have a few days to live. To be resentful and cruel to the people that kept it from you.

He’s always known he could die but he also always had that little bit of hope dangled in front of him, the idea that not all heroes die gruesome painful deaths, that he could end up like his namesake.

But he isn’t and doesn’t. When people say they were doing what they thought was best he believes them. He doesn’t follow blindly but he doesn’t hate blindly either.

That’s why he’s the Hero of Olympus.

[burst-of-iridescent]

Personally Kat.aang looks bad to me because Aang gave his most lightest skinned child special treatment 💀 there were air acolytes who weren’t air benders themselves but were still dedicated to keeping the culture alive so leaving Kya and Bumi out on account of them not being air benders is absolute bullsh*t. You don’t see Zutara shippers calling Kat.aang shippers racist because of it 🤔

yeah see this is one of those things that again ties back to bry.ke being totally oblivious about the implications of what they were writing because the optics of the kat.aang family are… troubling, to put it nicely.

the darker-skinned woman is a waterbender. the lighter-skinned man is an airbender. the nonbender is conveniently in-between. their clothing all correspond strictly to their individual elements (except bumi who gets chucked to red for the audacity of not being born an airbender — at least till he conveniently turns into one). if you knew nothing of these characters you’d never know they were biracial at all.

which is just… so disappointing. part of the reason i love zutara is how the fandom handles the incorporation of both cultures, and yet bry.ke couldn’t even be bothered to do the bare fucking minimum of at least having the kat.aang kids in blue and yellow clothes. if you’re going to claim that a significant aspect of this new, postwar world is the increased cultural exchange across nations then the kat.aang family of all people should be emblematic of that change! but no, instead of taking the opportunity to actually delve into and depict the intricacies of a blended household, we might as well just stick to the same shit we’ve been doing since atla because why think of something new, right?

it’s even more troubling that within the strange cultural division of the ka kids, it’s katara’s culture that gets the shaft. tenzin’s entire family might as well be air nomads through and through, and while bumi and kya seem to have been intentionally excluded from air nomad culture through no fault of their own, they don’t seem to know (or care) any more about their swt heritage either. the natural conclusion to draw from that is evidently that katara’s culture just doesn’t matter as much as aang’s in their family, and that paints a very disturbing picture of how aang views his wife’s heritage (especially with the worldbuilding of atla portraying the air nomads as ‘spiritually pure’ in comparison to everyone else).

i have no patience for the common ka defense that aang is a survivor of genocide so his culture should take more priority because a) katara is also a genocide survivor, as ka stans are so fond of pointing out until it doesn’t work in their favour and b) why are we acting like cultural integration is some sort of zero sum game? tenzin, kya and bumi aren’t going to run out of space for their air nomad traditions and practices just because they know more about their swt background as well. there’s no arbitrary limit on how much you can learn of your heritage.

yes, i know bry.ke didn’t intend for the ka family to come across this way. but whether the implications were purposeful or not, they still exist, and it’s fucking galling that the fandom will call zutara and zutara shippers racist all while defending the shitty writing choices of two american white men — and then pat themselves on the back for being progressive, as if genuine activism means harassing real poc in the name of fictional ones.

[bullet-prooflove]

Cherry Lipstick: Eddie Diaz x Reader

Tagging: @kmc1989 @gatefleet @tigolebittiez @mckinleysbones @totalstitchlover19

Companion piece to:

Box Breathing - Eddie's been struggling since Christopher left.

Always - You make a promise to Eddie.

Real - Eddie tells you he wants something real.

You’re wearing cherry lipstick, that’s the first thing Eddie notices when he lays eyes on you at the Mayor’s Charity Ball, that and backless black jumpsuit you’re wearing. Your hair falls across one side your face in loose waves as you linger in the doorway.

For a moment it feels like time stands still because truly you are the most breathtaking woman in this place.

It’s the tension in your shoulders that snaps him back to reality, the way your muscles coil as if your waiting for the next attack. He recognises discomfort when he sees it. This  isn’t your scene, it isn’t his either. The tuxedo he’s wearing feels too confining, the collar like a noose. He tugs at it as you approach him, hoping for a little relief.

“I hate this.” Are the first words out of your mouth and he smiles, because one of the things he loves about you is the fact you don’t sugarcoat, not with him.

The only reason the two of you are even here is because the Fire Chief wants to show you both off to potential donors. You both tick a couple of boxes when it comes to the LAFD’s diversity program. Him due to his heritage and status as a veteran and you due to your gender. It helps that you’re both easy on the eyes, Chimney had pointed out and you’d given him the middle finger in response.

“I hate it too.” Eddie agrees before he places his hand on your lower back, guiding you towards the bar. “But we promised so…”

You spend the next hour being paraded around by the Fire Chief, peppered with questions by donors that border on offensive, about your ability to stack up against the men you work with, the concessions that have been made because of your gender. This shit it’s nothing new to you, but it is to Eddie, who with every comment grows more livid, When it gets to the point where he’s unable to bite his tongue you take his hand threading your fingers through his in an attempt to alleviate some of the agitation he’s feeling.

“They’re all assholes.” He tells you as you lead him onto the dance floor so that the two of you can get a little space. “Every single one of them.”

“You are not telling me anything new.” You remark as your arms wind around his neck, your fingertips brushing lightly over the dark hair at the bottom of his collar. “It’s like this at every event he coerces me into. I just have to play the good little soldier and take it.”

“What happens if you don’t?” He asks curiously, his hands settling on your hips.

“Then he makes a suggestion that there may be other firehouses may benefit from my expertise.” You reply and Eddie’s grasp on you tightens at the thought of you disappearing from his life like that. The two of you may work different shifts but there’s always a little cross over, sometimes seeing you, even if it is only for a couple of minutes can be the silver lining of an otherwise rainy day.

The music starts to slow switching to an acoustic piano version of Coldplay’s ‘The Scientist’ and Eddie’s cheek comes to rest against yours as he draws you a little closer. You feel so right pressed against him like this, the curves of your body fitting perfectly into the contours of his own. The scent of your perfume floods his senses, something floral with a hint of sensuality, and it dampens down his indignation, filling him with an emotion that he struggles to articulate but feels in the very depths of his soul.

“Selena…” He murmurs, his forehead coming to rest upon yours as he trails off. “I…”

But the words they just won’t come, they stick in his throat like lego bricks as he looks into your eyes helplessly.

“I know.” You whisper, your lips brushing over his. “Trust me Eddie I do.”

Love Eddie? Don’t miss any of his stories by joining the taglist here.

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[o-sachi]

Cowboy, Pirate, or Samurai? pt. 1 ₊⊹ Blue Lock Chars.

ଳ how the blue lock boys respond to, “would you rather be a cowboy, pirate, or samurai?”

ଳ characters; isagi yoichi, bachira meguru, chigiri hyoma, nagi seishiro, barou shoei, reo mikage, kunigami rensuke

ᯓ Isagi Yoichi - Samurai

Knowing Isagi's love for manga, I have a hunch that he might go for samurai solely because it reminds him of all those shounen manga that he had read before. Isagi is definitely the type of guy to find swords amazing. If he had the money, he'd buy one of those replica katanas that you can display in your room. But, to be fair, he finds all options cool. It's just that the samurai has an allure to him that the others lack. I'm guessing it's their cold and calculating nature which is resemblant of Isagi when he's on the field.

ᯓ Bachira Meguru - Pirate

It’s no surprise that a spontaneous person like Bachira would choose to be a pirate. After all, they do travel far and wide, and have the most amazing expeditions out of all the three. He isn’t as excited about the sword fights or the bounties as he is with exploring new places. I have a feeling he likes swimming and just being around water in general. His favorite animal is a dolphin, so I’m sure that his jaw would drop upon seeing one jumping along with the pirate ship.

ᯓ Chigiri Hyoma - Samurai

Chigiri will probably choose this more so as a last resort. He can't imagine being a pirate because the sea salt air would ruin his hair. Everyday would be a bad hair day and that's a huge no from him. Being a cowboy would mean being under the sun for hours, sweating and letting grime accumulate. He figures that being a samurai would be the safest option. With his speed, he might even be good at wielding a sword.

ᯓ Nagi Seishiro - Cowboy

Much like Chigiri, I think Nagi will choose this as a last resort. Pirates immediately get a no from him because they move around and go to places too much. He can't even fathom trying to get a good snooze on a ship that's constantly wobbling on water. Being a samurai is also a hassle since they have to be swinging their swords around. Picking cowboy seems like the chillest option since he thinks he can just take care of a horse and... nap with it under some shade after going for a very short ride.

ᯓ Baro Shoei - Samurai

One word: discipline. Baro thinks the elegance and esteem carried by the samurai are unparalleled. As a person who strongly believes in structure, Baro feels that he'd fit in the best in the samurai lifestyle unlike the others which are a bit too carefree for his taste. If he were to be in any other shounen, he'd be the type of character to have a strong sense of justice. Baro also looks like the type to be proud of his Japanese heritage, so it comes as no surprise that he's picking this one out of the choices.

ᯓ Reo Mikage - Pirate

He likes treasure. Pirates also like treasure. It was a no-brainer for Reo to go for pirate. The idea of going out on a grand voyage to discover and acquire precious items appeals quite a lot to him. It's literally a canon event and we can't interfere with it. He'd even go as far as to one up other pirates by purposefully finding more gold or finding an object far more valuable than anything anyone else had found. Reo would love to be a pirate king and lead his crew to a cavern of riches.

ᯓ Kunigami Rensuke - Cowboy

If we're talking about pre-wildcard Kunigami, then he's definitely a cowboy archetype. Cowboys are hard working, but carefree. They protect the innocent with their strength much like a hero. Kunigami fits this mold to a T with his strong sense of self and fairness. And, this is just a headcanon of mine, but I think he has a soft spot for animals. He looks like the big scary guy who's actually a lot more wholesome than he lets on. He'd take care of his horse like it's his best buddy. Post-wildcard Kunigami would probably say... ninja because he's edgy.

[🐟]: adding more characters in the next part~

ε( ε ˙³˙)ɜ ｡° ⚬ ｡ likes and reblogs are appreciated

o-sachi © 2024

[thedissonantverses]

Spamming Davrin’s tag today cause I’m deep in my feels but well I saw a post about how much a person hated the companion quests. My particular gripe with it was saying the griffons and Davrin’s whole quest is superfluous in Veilguard…because nothing about any of the companion quests are superfluous but especially the Grey Warden companion rescuing the last griffons in the world and giving them a new future. It’s where the Grey Wardens have been heading for centuries. It’s integral to the story. It’s vital to understand because it’ll help you understand the rest of what Veilguard has to say. It’s also one of my favorite parts of the lore for a reason and has been since Dragon Age:Last Flight.

The griffons are a symbol in this game of Thedas’ past, present, and future. It’s the culmination of years of lore. It shows you exactly who the Grey Wardens are. Corrupted caretakers, stewards of a world constantly on the brink. The people that will blight the creatures they care for the most if it means saving the world. The griffons coming back to Thedas represents healing in a world that desperately needs to lay down its past and focus on its future. It’s a beautiful message of conservation at a time where we really need more stories about what environmental restoration can look like. The Grey Wardens can finally look forward instead of being chained to the blight alone and what they did to the world and what the world did to them. (This is the whole point of the questline in Hossberg as well.)

It also just dismisses Davrin! Davrin, who is so, so much more than Assan and Isseya and the griffons and I can’t expound on this enough either. Davrin can just as easily give into regret after Weisshaupt the way Isseya did. But instead he learns to live when he was never supposed to. Davrin, a man far too intelligent to be merely a weapon. Davrin, a man who sings to the halla. Davrin, a man writing a monster manual because he doesn’t want other people to get hurt or learn the hard way like he did. Davrin who carries the weight of his Dalish heritage no matter how far from home he roams. I relate to this on a very personal level haha. Davrin’s journey is this journey of setting down your sword and carving out a new life for yourself despite the horrors you’ve come to know intimately. You are more than just your scars.

Veilguard as a whole is a strong narrative and one that resonates with me because of its message of healing from trauma. Davrin’s quest is representative of the Grey Wardens and the Elves as a whole. It is incredibly intentional with its messaging. I’m just sad so many people will dismiss one of my favorite bits of lore and one of my favorite companions we’ve ever gotten when it’s so well-done.

[warningsine]

Notice how Helena uses "I" instead of "she" and how Milchik gives her the soft sell.

Combine this with:

her embarrassed "My dad forced me to recite the 9 rules as a child and I did not like it then" admission in front of a camera.

James basically thanking her for risking her life for the company and lying about it. He "cried" about the suicide attempt, and yet he didn't even contact his daughter, since he's telling her this now at the gala as an aside to the event. In terms of family emergency time? Too fucking late. Is this the only time Helena's seen him since then? Not to mention how he didn't want to take responsibility and blamed it all on his daughter's alter ego.

And you'll get a more nuanced interpretation than the "Helena pure corporate evil, Helly R. good rebel" binary one.

Despite doing that cruel "I'm a person, you're not" presentation and being determined to see the process through even after Helly tries to commit suicide, there's some part of Helena that must know that this is messed up.

Sure, she's complicit and not a hapless victim, but she's also a product of her upbringing. Stripping her of her privilege, heritage, cult-like brainwashing/indoctrination and Shiv Roy-like desperation to win her dad's approval gives you Helly.

They are the same person under different circumstances.

There are no contradictions between the fundamental makeup of her innie and outie.

The version of herself Helena brings inside Lumon questions everything and demands accommodation and answers, because she is used to getting what she wants as a privileged woman.

What changes her is the different context she's given.

Helena is a wealthy and powerful woman who gets what she wants; Helly is a powerless woman who is often being tortured. It makes sense that her traits—stubborness and determination among others—and the fundamental sense of "I deserve to get what I want" are present in Helly.

But also make no mistake: they're both prisoners. Helly in a more literal sense, Helena in a figurative one—a prisoner in her family and the role that was imposed on her.

A willing participant that benefits from a controlling system is not free from the harm or influence of it. Acknowledging Helena's abusive circumstances doesn't take away from her as an antagonist, it makes her story more compelling.

Helena's self-serving qualities are more a matter of nurture than nature, because Helly shows caring and compassion as well as rebellion and independence. Helly is like a very young version of Helena.

All of the outies' emotions leak through to some extent.

Helly's "Well, that's a given for me [that I'm an asshole out there]" is a pretty safe assumption to make based on Helena's video, but it also oozes self-loathing. Helena taking it out on Helly does too.

Ultimately, I think this happens on a figurative level to a lot of people who undergo an—emotionally in this case— abusive upbringing. Rejecting their most vulnerable parts and imprisoning them. It's a survival mechanism, and helps them feel like they have more control over their out of control personal life. But, in a way, it makes them more out of control once they get into the real world.

Their inner, imprisoned parts find ways to make it so they can't ignore them. We definitely saw that with Helly threatening to mutilate herself and attempting suicide.

There are consequences to denying and imprisoning any part of ourselves over the long term.

[triptuckers]

wild flowers - percy jackson

Request: yes! "Can I request a platonic Percy Jackson x Child of Demeter!Reader based off the new Disney series? Where Child of Demeter!Reader is significantly older than Percy (17/18 maybe?) and is the one to welcome him to camp instead of Luke. Reader is more gentle and understanding to Percy's questions and is in general sort of a parent figure in the camp?" Pairing:  percy jackson x demeter!reader (platonic) Summary:  you welcome the newest kid at camp half-blood Warnings:  none (omg??) Word count:  1.1K A/N: was excited when I saw the new episode will be out on Tuesday but then I looked at the time zone and it's 3 am for me so I'll still watch it on wednesday :') thanks for your request, enjoy!

you try not to look away as percy, the newest addition to camp half-blood, nearly shoots another camper. he falls to the ground due to the force of the bow.

'alright.' you say, walking over to see if percy's okay. 'so not archery.'

'I didn't mean to!' says percy, looking at the kids who had flattened themselves to the ground to avoid being shot.

'of course you didn't, they know that. can I have the bow?' you say.

percy quickly shoves the bow in your hands as well as the quiver of arrows. you hand them back to the apollo kid who was teaching him with a thanks and an apologetic smile.

'see, I suck at this.' says percy. 'I'm not good at anything.'

'hey, that's not true.' you say. 'everyone is good at something. c'mon, I'll take you to my favorite spot at camp.'

that gets his attention. 'your favorite spot?'

'yep. right this way.'

you lead him away from the archery field. you can tell he's curious. you take him to the strawberry field, where some of the satyrs and your siblings are tending to the plants.

you walk past the strawberries to a field of grass where wild flowers grow.

'it's pointless.' says percy as the two of you sit down.

you frown. 'what is?'

he gestures around. 'all of this. I'm not one of you. it's clear there's something wrong with me. none of this matters because my dad won't reveal himself, he doesn't care. my mom is gone. I suck at archery. and I can't work in the forge. I can't do anything.'

you look at him. most kids are tough on themselves when they arrive. percy isn't any different.

'at least you didn't suck as much at archery than I did.' you say. 'contrary to you, I actually did hit someone when trying out archery '

percy's eyes widen. 'you did?'

you nod. 'apollo kids had to patch them up. luckily it wasn't that bad. but still I haven't touched a bow since. and I'm also not good at sword fighting. I only carry one because it's the weapon I suck the least with.'

'what if you suck at everything?' asks percy softly.

you smile at him. 'this is all normal. we all felt like this when we came here, regardless if we could already fight or not. and look at me, I still can't fight that well. I'm a joke compared to luke and clarisse if it comes to fighting. gods, even annabeth is better than me and she's your age.'

you point ahead to the strawberry fields. 'my cabin doesn't bring forth the best fighters. and that's okay. we're good at other things.' you say.

percy looks at your siblings, sure enough, not a lot of them carry weapons. maybe you do because you're head counsellor of your cabin.

'when did you find out who your mom was?' asks percy.

you sense he's not just curious about your godly heritage. he wants to know how long it would take before his father claims him. and he already knows there are unclaimed kids.

'for me it was pretty clear. I've always loved plants. I've got an impressive garden back at home.' you say. 'demeter claimed me my second day at camp.'

'so pretty fast...'

'for some kids it's fast. for some it's slow. some kids are very certain about who their godly parent is and sometimes they're right and sometimes they're not. you can't predict it with 100% accuracy.'

'did someone guess it correctly?'

'most of the times it's the athena kids who are right about their hunches. but they're athena kids of course, very smart. also a lot of ares kids are right. and for others it's a 50/50 chance. for instance, milo. everyone was convinced he was a hephaestus kid because he really liked to blow stuff up. turns out he's an athena kid. he's just really smart about blowing stuff up.'

'I bet I'm a kid of the god or failure or something. I'm just a regular kid, I'm not special. I don't have any impressive powers. not like you.'

'you think my powers are impressive?' you chuckle. 'I'm good with plants percy. over the years I've learned how to master those. but at first all I did was accidentally make flower patches.'

percy looks at you, frowning. 'you what?'

you laugh, then point to your shoes. they look like you've worn them every day for the past five years. which you have, somehow they won't wear down.

'these were a gift from my mom. if I don't wear them, flowers grow where I walk.'

'really?'

you nod and take them off. you get up and walk a circle around percy. and indeed, flowers grow where you put your feet down on the grass. you pick one and give it to percy, then put your shoes back on.

'it's the only thing I still can't master. maybe it's not something to be mastered. I'd ask my mom but the only time I saw her was when I was out fighting for my life. wasn't really the time to ask about flowers. she didn't even give me my shoes in person, just sent them here.'

you and percy are silent as you look out over the valley. you remember your first days at camp, how scared you were. you didn't know anyone, you were told your mom was a goddess, and you could never have a moment alone because there would always be someone who could find you based on the flowers you left behind.

'everyone here has been through what you're going through now.' you say. 'maybe they didn't experience it in the same way. I mean, you did kill the minotaur. but all of them have been confused, wondered about wether they belong, if there's something wrong with them. we all found our way in the end.'

'did you feel like you didn't belong?'

'sure. but then chiron explained to me it's all because of the gods. we've got dyslexia because our brain is wired in greek. the adhd is from our need to fight. it's all in our dna. just give it time, you'll belong. any other questions?'

'what do you do when you're not at camp?'

you smile. 'try not to run into any monsters and wait for the time to go to camp again. you'll find your family here, percy, trust me. now let's see if the aphrodite can teach you anything.'

you get up and offer your hand to percy. after pulling him to his feet, you start to walk toward the aphrodite cabin.

'you know, regardless of what cabin you belong to, you can always come to me if you have any questions.' you say.

percy smiles at you. 'thanks.'

A/N: If you want to request something, make sure to read my house rulesHere’s the list of characters I write for. Everything that I have written can be found on my masterlist. Please don’t repost my work, as I spend much time and effort on it!! Thank you for reading! Much love, Marit/Max