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coquelicoq · 23 days ago

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i've decided to archive this on ao3. if anyone who speaks chinese would be willing to read this post (& a few other spoilery and explanatory tidbits that are not in the tumblr post) and point out any typos or places where i've misinterpreted something, i would be very grateful! according to my draft on ao3, it is 4.6k words. the majority of it is in the post above, and i would dm you the parts that are not. familiarity with the double is not necessary, though if you want to watch it and haven't yet, be warned that there will be spoilers. please reply to this post if you're interested and i will dm you <3

Jiang Li's family tree and familial terms of address in The Double

I'm making this guide for my own reference because there were several family relationships in The Double that I misinterpreted at first based on how they were translated in the English subs, so I've gone back and compared to the Chinese subs. I'm also hoping it will be helpful to people wanting to write fic in English! What little I know about Chinese terms of address has largely been gleaned from other tumblr users' posts predating this show, and I'll link to my sources.

The only significant potential spoiler is some basic biographical information about Jiang Li’s older sibling, who is not directly mentioned until episode 26 but whose existence can be inferred from the fact that Jiang Li is referred to as Second Lady Jiang.

I am basing all of this solely on the drama, not the novel it was adapted from.

Apologies in advance for any inconsistencies in the pinyin punctuation (hyphen vs. apostrophe vs. space vs. smooshed together); it varies widely across sources and I don't think I have a clear enough understanding of the nuances to be confident I'm being consistent in applying the conventions, but I'm including the hanzi as well as an English translation (if the translation is in quotation marks it’s from the subs, usually Viki but not always). Also apologies if I messed up any of the hanzi. I welcome corrections and insights from those with more knowledge!!

I'm referring to Jiang Li in the present tense here for convenience, but since she's dead for the majority of the show, when I say "Jiang Li calls so-and-so xyz," of course it's almost always actually Xue Fangfei acting as Jiang Li who's doing that.

Each image is of that character's first appearance, when the hanzi for their name is given. The hanzi and any other caption are transcribed in alt text.

Jiang Li

Jiang Li (姜梨), aka Jiang Ruoyu (姜若雨), is the second child and second daughter of Jiang Yuanbai. She’s his only child with his first wife, Ye Zhenzhen.

According to this title card, her given name is Ruoyu and her courtesy name is A'Li (阿梨). This means that in this universe, people are given courtesy names in childhood rather than upon maturity. No one ever calls her or refers to her as Ruoyu that I noticed.

She is 18 or thereabouts (she was sent away from the family 10 years ago at age 8) when she dies at the beginning of the series.

She was accused of fratricide and attempted matricide at age 8 when she was blamed for her stepmother's miscarriage.

Sometimes in the subs she's referred to as the eldest daughter or the firstborn. For instance, when Ji Shuran says in episode 7 梨儿终究是我家嫡女, the Viki subs give "Li'er is the firstborn." Another example is in episode 5; someone in the crowd at Jiang Ruoyao's coming-of-age ceremony refers to Jiang Li as Jiang Yuanbai's 嫡长之女, which Viki translates as "eldest daughter". I think this might be a mistranslation. The character 嫡, di, means "legal wife" or "child of legal wife" and also is one of the characters in the title of the novel The Double was based on, 嫡嫁千金 (Marriage of the Di Daughter). (The other relevant character in the above examples is 女, nü, meaning daughter.) She's not the eldest daughter, but she is the eldest legitimate daughter (born to a legal wife rather than a concubine). In episode 6, Jiang Li refers to herself as 嫡女, and that time it's translated as "legitimate daughter" (Jiang Ruoyao also refers to herself as the same thing in episode 26, and it's "legitimate daughter" there as well). In episodes 26 and 32, Jiang Li is referred to as 姜家的嫡娘子, translated as "legitimate daughter of the Jiang family".

As the second daughter of a noble family, she is referred to outside the family as Jiang-er'niangzi (姜二娘子, “Second Lady Jiang”, or sometimes translated as "Miss Jiang"). Family servants call her niangzi or er’niangzi (translated in direct address as "My Lady" or "Miss Jiang"). (Note that Tong'er calls Jiang Li niangzi but tends to call Xue Fangfei jiejie (姐姐, older sister) when they're alone.)

Her younger sister Jiang Ruoyao and younger cousin Jiang Yu'e call her er'jie (二姐, older sister, second in the birth order; subs translate this as "Second Sister" or, more often, “Li” even though they’re not actually using her name at all) or er'jiejie. Her younger brother Jiang Bingji calls her jiejie; Jiang Ruoyao also sometimes calls her jiejie.

People in her family who are older than her call her A'Li (阿梨]) or Li'er (梨儿). A'Li, according to her title card, is her courtesy name, but "A" and "er" are also affectionate/familiar prefixes often used in families. Most people who call her one of these things (including Xue Fangfei, her paternal family, her mother, and her mom’s friend Liu-furen) call her Li’er, while her maternal family (other than her mother) tends to call her A’Li.

Her paternal grandmother calls her Li'er, haizi (孩子, child), and er’yatou (二丫头, literally second girl). The latter two are generally given in the subs as Li or Li’er.

Her aunt (her father’s younger brother’s wife) calls her wo de hao zhinü (我的好侄女, “my dear niece”) at one point when she's feeling particularly appreciative.

Her older maternal cousin Ye Shijie calls her/refers to her as Jiang Li initially, then as they become closer starts calling her both Li’er and A’Li, though I noticed him using Li’er more often. He also calls her biaomei (表妹, younger female maternal cousin, maternal meaning you're related through your mother and/or her mother; in this case, Jiang Li's mother is his father's sister), as does her other maternal cousin, Ye Jia'er.

Her older paternal cousin Jiang Jingrui calls her Jiang Li. As they become closer, he starts calling her A’Li or Li’er.

Her school friend Liu Xu calls her Jiang Li in the earlier episodes and A'Li as they become closer.

She refers to herself (that is, Xue Fangfei refers to Jiang Li and/or herself-as-Jiang-Li) as Li’er or A'Li.

Note that while some people close to Jiang Li call her A'Li (阿梨), when Su-guogong calls (Xue Fangfei as) Jiang Li A'Li, the Chinese subs use 阿狸 (different "li" character). They are pronounced identically, but the latter is the way that Xue Fangfei’s given name, Xue Li, is written (薛狸).

Paternal family (Jiang jia 姜家)

Parents

Jiang Yuanbai (姜元柏) is the current head of the noble Jiang family and a high-ranking minister in the imperial court.

His title is Jiang-xiangguo 姜相国, translated as "Grand Chancellor" or "Secretariat Director", depending on the subs.

Xiangguo is a more general honorific that is used for some other ministers as well. His position more specifically seems to be zhongshuling (中书令, “Secretariat Director” or “Chief Secretary”) and taishi (太师, “Grand Preceptor”).

The emperor calls him (and other officials) qing (卿, noble, minister). He also refers to him at least once as laoshi (老师, teacher).

Servants call him zhujun (主君, translated as “my lord” in direct address and "master" in reference).

Jiang Li calls him fuqin (父亲, formal term for "father"). I don't think Xue-Fangfei-as-Jiang-Li ever calls him die (爹, less formal term for "father") at any point, but he refers to himself as diedie a couple times.

His brothers call him da’ge (大哥, older brother, first in the birth order). His sister-in-law (Jiang Yuanping's wife) also calls him da'ge.

Jiang Jingrui and Jiang Yu'e call him da’bofu (大伯父, father’s older brother, first in the birth order, "Uncle") or just bofu.

Hi wife Ji Shuran calls him fujun (夫君, husband).

Ye Shijie calls him Jiang-bofu (“Uncle Jiang”) a couple times in the late episodes.

He and his brothers share a generation name (one shared character in the given name of each descendant of the same generation), 元, yuan. However, they don’t appear to have continued the tradition in the next generation, because Jiang Jingrui's and Jiang Bingji's names don't share a character. At first I thought at least the girls' names shared a character, because Jiang Li (whose given name is Ruoyu) and her sister Ruoyao both have 若, Ruo, but their older sister and their uncle’s daughter don’t have that character in their names.

Ye Zhenzhen (叶珍珍) was Jiang Li's mother.

She died when Jiang Li was a baby, at least six months after giving birth.

She was Jiang Yuanbai's furen (夫人), his official wife (as opposed to a concubine).

When Jiang Li talks about her, she refers to her as a'niang (阿娘, mother) or shengmu (生母, birth mother).

Xue Fangfei addresses her as Ye-furen in her head/when praying to her.

Her younger brother Ye Mingyu calls her Zhenzhen-jie (珍珍姐).

Ji Shuran (季淑然) is Jiang Li's stepmother.

She is Jiang Yuanbai's current furen. Jiang Yuanbai married her after Ye Zhenzhen died.

She's over 30 and probably under 40.

She's the mother of Jiang Ruoyao and Jiang Bingji, who call her niang. Jiang Ruoyao sometimes calls her or refers to her as muqin (母亲, formal term for "mother").

She's referred to as Jiang-furen (姜夫人, “Madam Jiang”) by those outside the family (women keep their own surname when they get married, but when honorifics are used, they're attached to the husband's surname). At one point she refers to herself as Jiang jia de zhumu (姜家的主母, "madam of the Jiang family").

Her husband and the family servants call her furen.

Jiang Li calls her muqin. In flashbacks, young Jiang Li calls her niang. She’s sometimes referred to as Jiang Li’s houmu (后母, stepmother).

Consort Li, her younger sister, calls her jiejie.

The Marquis of Ningyuan calls her xiangguo-furen (xiangguo being her husband’s court honorific).

Jiang Jingrui calls her da’bomu (大伯母, wife of da’bofu) and sometimes refers to her as Ji Shuran when talking about her to Jiang Li. Jiang Yu'e calls her bomu ("Auntie Shuran").

Jiang Yuanping, her husband's younger brother, calls her saozi (嫂子, sister-in-law). Jiang Yuanxing, her husband's other younger brother, refers to her as da’sao (大嫂, “Eldest Sister-in-law”).

Before her marriage, as the eldest child/daughter of the Ji family, she was called Ji-da’niangzi.

Paternal grandparents

Jiang Yuanbai's mother is referred to as Jiang-lao'furen (姜老夫人, "old Madam Jiang").

She was Jiang Yuanbai’s father's furen. Her husband also had at least one concubine.

Jiang Li and her siblings and paternal cousins call her zumu (祖母, father's mother, "Grandmother").

Her two biological sons and Jiang Yuanxing, her husband's son from a concubine, call her muqin. Jiang Yuanxing’s wife also calls her muqin.

Members of her household, including servants and her daughters-in-law, refer to her as lao’furen (“Old Madam”). Her daughter-in-law Ji Shuran also addresses her as lao’furen (translated as “Madam Jiang”).

[Not pictured because he never appears onscreen] Jiang Yuanbai's father, who's deceased, is referred to a few times.

Tong’er refers to him as Jiang-lao’taigong (姜老太公, “Old Master Jiang”).

Jiang Li refers to him as zufu (祖父, “Grandfather”).

His widow refers to him as taigong (太公, grandfather, “Old Master Jiang”). She addresses him as lao’Jiang at one point.

Paternal aunts and uncles

Jiang Yuanping (姜元平) is Jiang Yuanbai's younger brother from the same mother and father.

Jiang Li calls him er'shu (二叔, father’s younger brother, second in the birth order; “ Second Uncle Jiang”).

His son Jiang Jingrui calls him die (爹, "Father").

Jiang Yuanping’s wife's surname is Lu (卢).

Jiang Li calls her er'shumu (二叔母, wife of er'shu; “Second Auntie Lu”). Interestingly, all the tumblr guides I’ve seen say the wife of your father’s younger brother would be shenmu, not shumu, but she is clearly saying shu according to the subs, and shumu is in the dictionary.

Her husband Jiang Yuanping calls her furen (translated as "My Lady" or "my dear").

Her son JIang Jingrui calls her niang ("Mother").

Jiang Yuanxing (姜元兴) is Jiang Yuanbai's younger half-brother; they have the same dad, but his mom was their dad's concubine.

Jiang Li calls him san'shu (三叔, father’s younger brother, third in the birth order; “Third Uncle Jiang”).

His daughter Jiang Yu’e calls him die and fuqin.

His eldest brother Jiang Yuanbai calls him Yuanxing and refers to him as Yuanxing and san’di (third younger brother).

He calls himself (and other people call him) shuzi (庶子, bastard, translated as "concubine's son").

A servant calls him 主家 (zhu jia, “Master”).

There’s at least one instance in which he’s referred to outside the family as Jiang jia lao'san (姜家老三, “Third Master Jiang”).

Jiang Yuanxing’s wife's surname is Yang (杨).

Jiang Lu calls her san'shumu (三叔母, wife of san'shu; “Third Auntie Yang”).

Her husband Jiang Yuanxing calls her gunainai (姑奶奶, aunt, translated as “my dear”).

Her daughter Jiang Yu’e calls her niang and muqin.

Her husband’s older brother refers to her as san’mei (三妹, third younger sister; in context, he’s talking about both her and her husband and says “san’di san’mei”, translated as “Yuanxing and his wife”).

Siblings

Jiang Yue (姜月) is Jiang Yuanbai’s oldest child and Jiang Li’s older sister. She was born to a maid (so, not the furen). This means that while she is the oldest child, she's not the oldest "legitimate" child.

She’s not directly mentioned until episode 26, so I won’t say anything else about her, to avoid spoilers.

Jiang Ruoyao (姜若瑶) is Ji Shuran's oldest child, Jiang Li's younger sister, and the third child and third daughter of Jiang Yuanbai.

She can't be much younger than Jiang Li, possibly two years younger at most would be my guess? I can't remember if they ever say her age. She has a coming of age ceremony in one of the early episodes.

Her parents call her Yao’er.

Her older sister Jiang Li calls her san'mei (三妹, literally "third younger sister", which refers to her position in the birth order as the third daughter of the Jiang family, rather than meaning that she's the third youngest of Jiang Li's younger sisters (Jiang Li only has one younger sister), translated as "Third Sister").

Her younger paternal cousin Jiang Yu’e calls her san’jie (三姐, older sister, third in the birth order, translated as “Third Sister”).

Her paternal grandmother calls her Ruoyao and san’yatou (三丫头, literally "third girl").

Those outside the family call her Jiang-san'niangzi (姜三娘子, “Third Lady Jiang”). Family servants call her niangzi or san’niangzi.

Jiang Bingji (姜丙吉) is Ji Shuran's second child, Jiang Li's younger brother, and the fourth child and only son of Jiang Yuanbai.

He was born after Ji Shuran’s miscarriage (source: he refers to the fetus as gege (哥哥, older brother), meaning it would have been born before him). This means he’s less than 10 years old, since the miscarriage/Jiang Li’s exile was 10 years ago.

Jiang Li doesn't have a lot of interaction with him, but in his intro she calls him didi (弟弟, little brother).

His parents call him Bingji and his paternal grandmother calls him Bingji or xiao’Bingji (小, xiao, is a diminutive meaning "young" or "small").

Family servants call him xiao'gongzi (小公子, "Young Master").

Paternal cousins

Jiang Jingrui (姜景睿) is Jiang Yuanping's son.

Xue Fangfei calls him tangxiong (堂兄, older paternal male cousin, i.e., son of father’s brother, older than her) the first time they meet, which causes him to accuse her of not being Jiang Li because it's too formal. Jiang Yu’e also calls him tangxiong.

Jiang Li's childhood nickname for him was xiao'Ruirui (小睿睿). In the present she mostly calls him Jiang Jingrui.

His parents call him Rui’er.

Liu Xu refers to him as Jiang Li’s gege (哥哥, older brother). He refers to himself as gege when telling Jiang Li to listen to him.

Those outside the family call him Jiang-gongzi (姜公子, “Mr. Jiang”). Tong’er calls him da’langjun (大郎君, “Young Master”).

Jiang Yu'e (姜玉娥) is Jiang Yuanxing's daughter.

She has a lower position in the family because her dad's mom was not the furen but a concubine.

Her parents call her nü’er (女儿, daughter) and Yu’e.

Her paternal grandmother refers to her as si’yatou (四丫头, literally "fourth girl") and Yu’e.

She and Jiang Li refer to each other (and others refer to them) as sisters (Jiang Li calls her si'mei (四妹, younger sister, fourth in the birth order, "Fourth Sister") and she calls Jiang Li er'jie), but they're actually cousins; their dads are brothers.

Jiang Jingrui also calls her si’mei.

As the fourth daughter of the Jiang family (though again, not the fourth daughter of Jiang Yuanbei; she's the fourth girl born to the previous generation of Jiang sons), I think prior to her marriage she would be addressed by those outside the family as Jiang-si’niangzi (姜四娘子, “Fourth Lady Jiang”), but I can't remember if we see any examples of this.

After she gets married, servants call her furen or niangzi.

Jiang family servants

Tong’er (桐儿) is Jiang Li’s maid.

Sun-mama (孙妈妈, “senior maidservant Sun” or "Madam Sun") is Ji Shuran’s maid.

Ji Shuran calls her Jindai (锦黛) at least once. Perhaps this is her given name?

[Not pictured because I never saw a title card for her] Zhang-popo (张婆婆, “maidservant Zhang”) is Jiang-lao’furen’s maid.

[Not pictured because I never saw a title card for her] Jinhua (金花) is Jiang Ruoyao’s maid.

Maternal family (Ye jia 叶家)

Maternal grandmother

Ye Zhenzhen’s mother is referred to as Ye-lao’furen (叶老夫人, “Old Madam Ye” or “Old Mrs. Ye”).

Jiang Li calls her wai’zumu (外祖母, mother’s mother, “Grandmother”).

Ye Jia’er calls her zumu (祖母, father's mother, "Grandmother").

Her son Ye Mingxuan refers to her as lao’furen and calls her muqin.

Her son Ye Mingyu calls her and refers to her as niang.

Her daughter-in-law, Ye Mingxuan's wife, refers to her as lao’taitai (老太太, literally “old lady”, translated as “Old Madam”).

Maternal aunts and uncles

[Not pictured because he never appears onscreen] Ye Zhenzhen's oldest brother, who is deceased, is mentioned, though not by name. He is Ye Shijie's father.

Since his brothers share the first character in their names (明, ming), it seems like they might have a generation name, so it’s likely his name also began with that character.

His younger brother Ye Mingyu refers to him and his wife as da’ge da’sao (大哥大嫂, oldest brother and wife of oldest brother, translated as “my brother and his wife”).

Ye Mingxuan (叶明轩) is Ye Zhenzhen's brother, the second oldest son in the family.

Ye Mingxuan’s older brother and father are dead, making him the current head of the family.

Jiang Li calls him er'jiu (二舅, mother’s brother, second in the birth order, translated as "Second Uncle").

It’s unclear if he’s Ye Zhenzhen’s older or younger brother. It's impossible to tell from what Jiang Li calls him, because the term for a mother’s brother is the same whether the brother is older or younger than the mother (舅, jiu). I don’t think there are any flashbacks in which Ye Zhenzhen talks to or about him. And we can infer that the birth order terms used for the men in this family do not include the women, because we know Ye Mingyu, who is referred to as third uncle and so must be the third son, actually must be the fourth child overall (assuming there aren't any other Ye daughters), because Ye Zhenzhen calls him younger brother, which means he has three older siblings (the two sons who are older than him, plus Ye Zhenzhen). So we know that Ye Mingxuan is second in the birth order of sons specifically, but he could have one or more older sisters as well.

His wife calls him er’lang (二郎; er is “two” or “second” and lang is “young man” or “husband” (the “second” refers to his birth order, not to him being her second husband; presumably he’s her only husband); translated as “Mingxuan”).

His daughter Ye Jia'er calls him die.

His younger brother Ye Mingyu calls him er’ge (二哥, second older brother, translated as "Mingxuan").

Ye Shijie refers to him as er'shu (二叔, father's younger brother, second in the birth order).

Family servants and the clerk in the family shop refer to him as zhuren (主人, “Master Ye”).

Ye Mingxuan's wife’s surname is Zhuo (卓).

Jiang Li calls her er’jiumu (二舅母, wife of er’jiu).

Her husband calls her furen (夫人, translated as “my dear” or “darling”).

Family servants call her furen or er’furen (夫人, "Madam").

Governor Tong calls her furen (夫人, "Madam").

Her husband’s younger brother Ye Mingyu refers to her as er’sao (二嫂, wife of er'ge).

Her daughter Ye Jia’er calls her niang.

Ye Mingyu (叶明煜) is Ye Zhenzhen's younger brother, the third oldest son in the family.

Jiang Li calls him san'jiu (三舅, mother’s brother, third in the birth order, translated as "Third Uncle").

In his flashback of Ye Zhenzhen getting married, she calls him san’di (三弟, third younger brother, meaning younger brother who’s the third son; it doesn’t necessarily mean that he’s the third of her younger brothers. She does have three brothers, but it’s possible one or both of the other two are older than her; see above).

His older brother Ye Mingxuan calls him san’di (三弟, third younger brother, translated as “Mingyu”) and Ye-lao’san (叶老三, lao as in old, san as in three; translated as “Mingyu”) when he’s being annoying.

His older brother’s wife calls him san’di.

His mother calls him erzi (儿子, son).

Ye Jia’er calls him san’shu (三叔, father’s younger brother, third in the birth order).

Jiang Jingrui calls him san’jiu. Jiang Jingrui is not actually related to him, but san’jiu is what Jiang Jingrui’s paternal cousin Jiang Li calls him.

The clerk in his family’s store calls him san’lang (三郎, “Third Master”).

Official Zhu calls him Ye-lao’ban (叶老板).

Maternal cousins

Ye Shengxuan (叶圣宣), courtesy name Shijie (世杰), is the son of the oldest (now deceased) son of the previous generation of the Ye family.

Jiang Li calls him biaoge (表哥, older male maternal cousin) and refers to him as Ye-biaoge. At one point after they know each other very well, he refers to himself as Jiang Li’s gege (older brother), and she calls him ge. Jiang Jingrui refers to him as Jiang Li’s biaoxiong (表兄, another term for an older male maternal cousin) at least once.

Jiang Yuanbai says that Jiang Li and Ye Shijie are around the same age and refers to them as xiongmei (兄妹, brother and sister), which Viki translates as “cousins”.

Jiang Jingrui calls him Shijie, or (similar to how he calls Ye Mingyu san'jiu because that's what Jiang Li calls him) Ye-biaoge or just biaoge (表哥).

Ye Jia’er calls him tangge (堂哥, older male paternal cousin, translated as “Shijie”).

His aunt, Ye Mingxuan’s wife, refers to him as Shijie. So does his uncle Jiang Yuanbai (his father’s sister’s husband).

A family servant calls him da’langjun (大郎君), translated by Viki as “Young Master”.

Social inferiors or people who are being polite call him Ye-gongzi (叶公子) or Ye-langjun (叶郎君), both translated as “Mr. Ye”.

His classmate Liu Xu calls him Ye-langjun. Some other students call him Ye-xiong (叶兄, brother Ye).

After he’s appointed a position in court, a palace servant calls him Ye-yuanwai (叶员外), translated by Viki as "Mr. Ye". Ji Shuran also calls him Ye-yuanwai, translated as “Official Ye”.

Ye Jia’er (叶嘉儿) is Ye Mingxuan's daughter.

Jiang Li calls her/refers to her as biaojie (表姐, term for an older female cousin when you’re related through one or both of your mothers), Jia’er-biaojie (嘉儿表姐), or Jia'er-jie (嘉儿姐; the “er” is part of her given name, rather than the “er” meaning “second”).

Her parents and her uncle Ye Mingyu call her Jia'er.

The clerk in the family store calls her Jia’er-niangzi (嘉儿娘子). This is also what Tong'er calls her.

Family servant A'Fu calls her Jia'er-jie. Other family servants call her niangzi.

Ye family servants and employees

[Not pictured because I didn't see a title card for her] Li-mama (李妈妈, “Madam Li”) is Ye-furen's maid.

[Not pictured because I didn't see a title card for him] A'Fu (阿福) is a servant in Ye Mingxuan's household.

[Not pictured because I didn't see a title card for him] A'Shun (阿顺) is Ye Mingyu's servant.

[Not pictured because I didn't see a title card for him] The clerk at the family shop is called Qian-zhanggui (钱掌柜, shopkeeper Qian, “Mr. Qian”).

#i just made this guide for myself and i think it is helpful for people like me (who don't speak chinese but have watched several cdramas #and paid close attention to family terms and fandom guides about family terms written by chinese speakers #and who find it really jarring in english fics when everybody just calls each other by their names even though that is not what #they are calling each other in chinese...#but again who crucially personally do not actually speak chinese and/or have personal experience being part of a chinese family #and therefore cannot speak from any place of actual expertise)#i'm not sure how many of those people exist or are likely to read this on ao3 or care about it. lol #but if i went around only doing things that matter to other people where would that get me?#so i was going to put this on ao3 and just be like ummm maybe everyone take this with a huge grain of salt #but then i remembered that there is this thing called 'betaing'#which i have never asked anyone to do before. not having written very much fic myself #and it occurred to me i could just see if someone would be willing to do that #and if no one is then i will post it anyway with the grain of salt warning because apparently ao3 deletes drafts after 30 days??? lol #like mostly i am just recording what people call each other‚ getting the hanzi from the chinese subs‚ and writing down the sub translation #but then i'm also providing some interpretation in the form of things like #'san'mei means third younger sister but it doesn't mean the person has three younger sisters #it means the person has at least one younger sister and that younger sister is third in the overall birth order'#and that's where i'm always like. but what if i've horribly misrepresented this though #also if you are a chinese speaker but don't feel like you have a great handle on family terms it would still be super helpful #if you just want to look over it and be like 'oh you copy-pasted the hanzi for ge here instead of di' or whatever!#because i do NOT know how to type hanzi. so i copy-pasted EVERYTHING #and that is really easy to mess up i think! ok i'll stop rambling now mwah byeee

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gothicfied · 13 days ago

Note

can you write for thanos x reader where the reader is really stoic and calm, not mean, but just does not express much emotion and it drive thanos crazy trying to impress her and get a reaction? Thanks :)

Hard to get - Thanos / Player 230

Pairing: Thanos / Player 230 x calm!reader

Summary: Thanos will do anything to get a reaction out of you, even if that means he has to put himself in danger.

Warnings: Mentions of death/dying, blood, gunshots, killing (typical squid game stuff), other than that it's just fluff (kinda lol), not proof read (english isn't my first language)

Word count: 971 Words

A/N: hii, I hope this is alright and what you had imagined!

When you woke up in a random bed, in a new environment with random people, you almost started to have a panic attack. Usually, you don't really show your emotions, you just keep them locked inside you and let a war rage in your mind while appearing to be calm about a situation you can't be calm about. After the initial shock wore off, you made your way to the middle of this area filled with beds, where other contestants or players with different numbers started complaining to the guards, that wore pretty ridiculous outfits you thought, about where their belongings went and other stuff.

After getting to know the rules of this.. 'game' you guys were playing for money, as everyone including you was here because of huge debt or money problems, you were led to the first mini game. Everyone went up the stairs while upbeat music was playing in the background, the fun colors of this environment stinging in your eyes. Suddenly, you hear someone whistle behind you: "Señorita!" The voice of a man seemingly called out to you. Without stopping, you turned your head around to face a purple-haired guy with a shit eating grin on his face. "Wow, what is a pretty thing like you doing here?" Without giving him a reaction, you just shrugged and went on, feeling your legs grow tired of climbing these stairs.

"What? You don't know?" Player 230, the numbed on his chest, seemed relentless. "Well, yeah, I obviously know. You do too, we're all in here because of one reason." you answered him, matter-of-factly, not giving him the time to speak to his face. "Have I already told you how pretty you are?" This guy's flirting techniques weren't really that great. He continued to shower you with compliments, to which you mostly didn't reply or at most said "Thank you."

When arriving at the top, every player had to take a picture in front of some screens. Conventionally, Thanos, as you gathered his alias was from others who seemed to know him, was waiting in the queue next to you, now talking with.. his fans? You didn't quite get it, but apparently he was some sort of rapper you had never heard of. A few players wanted to take a group photo with him and when he said yes, he looked at you, still waiting in line for your turn. "Hey, you there. Come on, you can be in the picture, too." Thanos said, signaling you to come over to him. Raising your eyebrows slightly, you just waved it off, with it now being your turn to take a picture.

Entering the open-roof arena of sorts, with the femald voice explaining the rules of Red-Light-Green-Light to the players, you found yourself next to Thanos, again. "So, you don't know who I am?" You just said 'no' and looked at him expectantly, like you wanted him to explain who he was. It seemed to annoy him. The man went on about how he was a rapper, even demonstrating that to you with some cheesy rap he came up on the spot, until he was interrupted by some guy, yelling that everyone who'd move during red light would die. How drastic.

"What is he talking about?" Thanos whispered, but you didn't show a reaction and rather listened to what Player 456 had to say. It started to really get on Thanos' nerves that he couldn't even coax one reaction or emotion out of you. No matter gow charming he was or how many questions he asked, you remained aloof. He kind of liked it.

"Must be on drugs, huh?" Another attempt of him to talk to you, to which you shushed him. The man in up front was talking about how you'd get shot if you moved, that being disqualified just meant they'd execute you. You didn't want to believe him, like, this sounds too crazy to be real, right? Yet still, you were determined to follow his directions. Everyone lined up on the white line, the mechanic girl doll thing staring you down. It was big and scary, also mysterious in some way. How would they shoot eliminated players? Would she shoot lasers out of her eyes like in some kind of film?

You found out pretty quickly that it was just guards who did it, as one girl panicked when a bee landed on her and that set off a chain reaction with others trying to run for their lives, just to get it taken away from them. You were floored. Splatters if blood landed on your face from one woman being shot right in front of you, Thanos not far away experiencing the same. Player 456 was screaming everyone to either run or freeze, depending on if it was red light or green light, guiding the remaining players through the game quickly.

Thanos and you had been locking eyes everytime you were supposed to freeze, him sending you a small wink everytime he saw your disturbed face. Unbeknownst to you, to everyone, he had taken some kind of pill out from his cross necklace, some kind of drug, and was now bouncing all over the place, like this wasn't serious. He reveled in the fact that he was able to get a reaction out of you now: you were mortified everytime he did something even remotely dangerous. Aww, you cared for him!

Going as far as pushing other players over, getting them killed, you concluded that this guy was mental.

The last few seconds of the given time were scary. You had made it over the finish line, saving yourself from a gruesome death, just like Thanos.

"Glad to see you on this side, Señorita. Would've been too bad if I couldn't have seen your pretty face ever again."

#squid game #squid game season 2 #squid game fanfic #squid games x reader #squid game x reader #squid games #thanos x reader #thanos #thanos squid game #player 230 x reader #player 230 #t.o.p #t.o.p x reader

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chaoticwriting · 6 days ago

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Streamer Danny

Everyone has a hobby or something they like to do. For Cass, that is watching Danny's stream. She doesn't know why but Danny's voices are very soothing and pleasant to hear. And it's not even just her that thought that. Every single one of Danny's fans say the same thing.

It is also a plus that Danny always talks using simple English. It makes it easier for her to learn how to speak and even read. Her favorite streams are the streams where Danny just sits and chats with the viewers. Not to say she doesn't like the other contents but there is just something nice to hear him answer her questions about himself.

No. She totally doesn't have a crush on that guy Steph. He doesn't even know her. How can she have a crush on someone that she never met before.

One thing she takes notes is the concerning things Danny sometimes says online. Like how he is half dead. Or something about a creepy godfather or something. Cass tries to look into him more with Tim's help (No Tim. She doesn't have a crush on this guy. And it's not creepy at all to stalk his personal information like this.) but finds practically nothing online about him except for his streaming channel and his hometown being somewhere in Illinois.

Danny also sometimes brings in guests to either interview or play video games with. There is Tucker, tech geek. He apparently is the one that sets up Danny's devices so that he can stream easily. Then there is Sam. His ex-girlfriend best friend. They talk about a lot of things mostly plants and ecosystems. There are also his sisters. Ellie is also a recurring guest. She often comes on stream and shares her travel experience and tips when traveling. Then there is Jazz who works as a psychiatrist at Arkham. And also is apparently working part-time for Red Hood.

Cass almost goes crazy when she hears that. She contemplates going to Jason to blackmail ask Jason to introduce Danny to her. Cass barely hesitates and the next thing anyone knows, Cass is inside Jason's apartment sitting on his couch nibbling on the freshly baked cookies Jason has on his counter.

Jason: *Walks out from his bedroom* Wtf! Where the hell did you come from?

Cass: *Stares*

Jason: Uggh. What the hell do you want?

Cass: Do you know Jazz?

Jason: *Tense* Why do you want to know?

Cass: Introduce me to her brother.

Jason: Danny? Why the hell do you wanna meet her?

Cass: A fan.

Jason: A fan? A fan of what? Wait. Danny did do the live streaming shit. Are you talking about that?

Cass: *Nods*

Jason: Whatever. Just don't fucking enter my house like that next time. I will call you to tell you when he is free.

Cass: *Smiles* Thank you.

Jason: Yeah yeah.

-Other place-

Danny: And that's it for today's stream people. I think I can stream again tomorrow but let's see if plans can keep up with change.

Chat: We want you to sing!

Danny: I will think about it in the next stream. Anyway see you later guys.

Chat: Bye!

Turning off the stream, Danny tiredly releases a sigh. Danny doesn't know why everyone wants him to sing. As far as Danny remembers, his voice has always been okay at best. He remembers getting mocked by Dash and his group when they participated in a choir when they were 10. Since then, Danny swears that he will never sing again.

What Danny likes though is dancing. Especially, ballet. He always likes the way the dancer expresses their emotions through body movements. The way they express anger, sadness, happiness and even love. When he becomes a ghost, he gets even better at reading those using ghost speak. Danny dreams of one day being able to dance in front of an audience of hundreds.

Opening a video platform website, Danny searches for a specific ballet group that he encounters. The group has a specific dancer that is amazing at expressing her emotions through dance.

Danny watches longingly hoping he could one day dance like that, or even dance with her. Suddenly a knock comes from his door.

Jazz: Hey, Danny. Can we talk?

#dp x dc crossover #danny phantom #dpxdc #batfam #danny x cass #dc x dp #dead silent #cassandra cain #cass x danny

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benjinotes · 4 months ago

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𝐃𝐑𝐔𝐗𝐘 — jacaerys velaryon

PAIRING. jacaerys velaryon x fem reader SUMMARY. while trying to escape the arranged marriage, you meet your betrothed, who turns out not to be as terrifying as your father suggest. WARNINGS. spicy but no actual smut. family issues. mostly daddy issues. fluff. no war au. rhaenyra is the queen. kissing. arranged marriage. jace and reader are in their 20s. N/A. after 2 weeks, i finally finished this! english is not my first language so be understanding. 8K+ words.

requested! -> masterlist

The fierce late spring sun blazed through the narrow gaps in the heavy curtains, its relentless rays searing your skin with persistent, vexing heat. You drummed your fingers impatiently on the rough wooden table in the meeting hall, trying to hide your frustration and nervousness as you listened to the whispered conversations among the gathered people drifting through the room.

Still, the serenity of Casterly Rock, though comforting, did little to ease your anxiety. The constant whispering of those around you seeped irritatingly into your ears, while their watchful eyes remained fixed on you. Not only were you subjected to relentless scrutiny, but you had your future laid bare for everyone to judge and comment on as they wished, which was frustrating to say the least.

What was most exasperating was the fact that no one dared to speak to you directly. Instead, all you received were discreet nods and brief looks of pity and some form of solidarity, as if these gestures were carefully calculated not to deepen the anguish you already felt at the prospect of marrying the eldest son of the Queen Rhaenyra Targaryen.

The name of that woman was met with reverence. As a queen who openly defied patriarchal traditions, her strength and ambition embodied the very essence of legends. She was known for making tough decisions without hesitation, placing duty and power above all else. To some, she was a visionary; to others, a tyrant. Yet no one, not even your father, could deny her cunning and ability to manipulate the political landscape to her advantage, always steering her destiny with unyielding control.

Marrying the son of the queen Rhaenyra meant joining a lineage forged in fire and blood, a dynasty accustomed to winning at any cost. The thought sent a chill down your spine, knowing you were about to become part of something so vast and merciless.

The air in the room grew heavier as the whispers faded into silence, and although there was plenty of air around you, it felt as though you were drowning. Your fists were clenched in your lap as reality slowly seeped through your body, tightening its grip on your heart. Across the table, your father, Lord Lannister, sat silently, his eyes fixed on you with a cold, relentless gaze. The barely perceptible warmth that had once lingered in his stare was now completely replaced by a biting chill, making you lower your head and shift your eyes to your hands in an attempt to escape the penetrating judgment that surrounded you.

You felt sullied, but more than that, you felt utterly lost.

You couldn't understand why your father was looking at you with such severity, especially when he was the one who had arranged your betrothal to the crown prince. It was even more perplexing to realize that he had made this arrangement behind your back, fully aware of the ominous rumors circulating through the stone corridors of Casterly Rock-rumors depicting Jacaerys Velaryon as a man of ruthless ambition, a volatile temperament, and a sense of duty that often bordered on cruelty.

The rumors your father shared about the crown prince were disturbing, to say the least. Though you had never met him personally, you had heard from your father and the other lords about his boundless ambition and unpredictable temperament. It was said that he was a man whose sense of duty often veered into harshness, driven by a calculated pursuit of power that sacrificed compassion and humanity for his goals, exactly like his mother, and the idea of marrying someone so dedicated to conquest and control only heightened your apprehension.

Nevertheless, the decision your father made left you stunned. How could he, who always claimed to act in your best interest, force you into such a cruel and desperate position? How could he send you to face someone whose reputation for cruelty he himself had helped to spread?

You couldn’t understand how the father you had trusted so deeply could impose such a harsh and merciless future on you. He wasn’t perfect, but you had hoped he would at least fulfill his role and be a good father. Yet, he proved you wrong.

The weight of betrayal and helplessness was overwhelming. The silence that enveloped the room seemed to amplify your sense of being trapped in a situation not of your making. Every distant whisper and glance now felt like a direct assault, heightening your feeling of isolation.

The reality of your predicament pressed down on you, making the silence almost unbearable. You could feel the tension in the room, thick and suffocating, as if the very walls were closing in, leaving you nowhere to turn.

When one of the lords shifted in his seat, the sound startled you, causing you to flinch. Unable to meet his questioning gaze, you kept your eyes on your lap, trying to memorize the gold and red patterns on your dress, struggling to ignore the constant, gnawing presence of scrutiny.

And even without the whispers, the weight of every gaze felt tangible, as if silent condemnations hung in the air. Your father's unwavering, cold stare only deepened your sense of betrayal, making you feel small and insignificant in an atmosphere that already felt suffocating and heavy.

After a few minutes, as if finally sensing that the moment—or perhaps you—had reached its limit, your father moved abruptly in his chair, letting the sun beam shine into his eyes, making him complain slightly. This small disturbance was enough to shift the attention of everyone in the room, who turned their gazes from you to Lord Lannister with a mix of curiosity and subtle apprehension.

"Leave us." He ordered after a few seconds, cutting through the oppressive silence that had settled in with a sharp, commanding tone. He didn't even spare a glance at the others in the room; his furrowed brows and the rigid, unyielding posture made it abundantly clear that he wasn't about to entertain any questions or objections. His mere presence commanded immediate obedience, and no one dared to challenge him. No one would be foolish enough to challenge Lord Lannister in his own home.

Biting your lip anxiously, you kept your gaze fixed on your lap, tracing your finger over the small lions in the dress’s pattern. As the lords began to rise, their footsteps echoed off the stone floor, their murmurs—now almost audible—starting up again as they moved toward the exit. Yet, you kept your head lowered, focusing on steadying your breath and straining to catch the distant sounds of the wind outside, desperately trying to fend off the anxiety gripping your insides.

As the lords' footsteps faded, the weight of the moment seemed to grow heavier with each passing second. The sense of being on the brink of a life-altering decision was overwhelming. You felt isolated, powerless to change the course of events, and faced with an almost tangible sense of the unknown pressing against your chest.

When the last lord left and the heavy doors shut, their echo reverberated through the stone walls like a warning. With only you and your father left, the room felt like it was closing in. The air was thick with the tension that hadn't faded with the others' departure. The silence that followed wasn't comforting; it was a suffocating weight, pressing on your chest and making it harder to breathe, pushing you to steady yourself in a struggle to regain control.

Looking up, you met your father's unyielding gaze. He watched you with cold, judgmental detachment as you anxiously bit your lip, and the icy intensity of his stare on your nervous behavior made you release your lower lip as a shiver ran down your spine. His rigid posture, assessing you with merciless precision, made it seem as though he didn't see his daughter but merely a pawn in a ruthless game of power, to be moved regardless of what it meant for you.

The feeling of betrayal cut deep, though you had long stopped expecting anything different.

Then, shattering the oppressive silence in the room, your father rose from his seat and began to walk toward you. Each step echoed with a weight that seemed to reverberate through the very walls, his boots hitting the floor with such force that they nearly drowned out the frantic beating of your heart.

Stopping in front of you, your dad scratched his throat lightly, prompting you to take a deep, pouty breath. You turned to him, your expression a mix of confusion and hurt, causing him to wrinkle his nose slightly. He lifted his chin with a smug air, his cold gaze unwavering.

"If you are awaiting an apology," he began, his voice edged with disdain, "you may as well abandon the expectation now." You struggled to maintain your composure, fighting the urge to glance at the opulent decorations on the wall for any distraction from the harshness of his stare.

Of course, an apology would never come from him; you hadn’t held any hope for it.

Fixing his gaze on your fingers, nervously tracing patterns on the fabric of your red dress, your father rubbed his forehead in irritation. For a brief moment, a flicker of doubt seemed to soften his stern expression.

"I did what was necessary," he spoke again, his voice carrying a rare touch of gentleness, aware that your silence was unyielding, but despite his softer tone, the firmness and gravity in his words remained unchanged. "You are a woman, and above all, a Lannister; marrying into greatness or being part of it is in your blood.”

His declaration felt like a crushing defeat, and the bitterness in your mouth made it hard to tell whether the weight of his words or your own desolation was more oppressive. Noticing your head once again bow in defeat, his gaze grew even colder. His eyes, which had offered a hint of softness, briefly fixed on the golden paintings on the walls of the room, as if seeking distraction from the sentimental conversations he disliked. However, the coldness in his gaze remained unchanged, almost as if he wanted to reinforce the possibly unhappy future he had laid out for you.

Lord Lannister took a step back and lightly adjusted his clothes, noting that you were clearly not going to speak. You nearly sighed with relief as you saw his shadow move slightly away from the table.

“You may find this difficult now, daughter,” he said again, the sound of his boots echoing as they entered your ears along with his sharp voice. Yet, your heart seemed to skip a beat when he called you "daughter." “But in time, you will understand that this was for the best. What you are about to do is part of something much greater, something beyond what you can see right now.” He continued, and you bit your lip once more, unable to lift your gaze from the fabric of your dress.

The marriage, your father’s indifferent treatment of it, and the daunting reality of becoming the future queen consort and mother to the future ruler of Westeros felt like a weight too great to bear. For a fleeting instant, you wondered if your betrothed had faced a similar turmoil when he first heard the news. But you swiftly dismissed such thoughts, haunted by the tales of his ruthless nature. Too afraid to have a second thought.

Lord Lannister took another step toward the door, his cloak trailing like a dark shadow over the cold stone floor. “Make your preparations,” he instructed, and you glanced up just enough to see him open the door, his back resolute, his gaze unfeeling. “In a few days, you will depart for Dragonstone.” With a final, authoritative word, he closed the door behind him, the sound resonating through the walls and making your heart ache.

Finally left alone in the room, you curled into yourself, drawing your knees tightly to your chest. With your head bowed, the tears you had kept at bay for so long finally began to fall.

The weather was not pleasant in Kings Landing.

For three interminable weeks since your arrival at the Red Keep, the skies had remained perpetually overcast, and the relentless rain had not ceased for even a moment.

Wish as you might, it was peculiar to say the least—despite this being your first visit to the Capital, you had always been told by merchants and villagers that the Capital’s weather was milder than that of the Westerlands, though its people were more arrogant and petty. Yet, to your chagrin, you found both claims to be mistaken.

You had not had the opportunity to meet many people within the Red Keep. Your interactions were limited to a few servants who, unlike those in your own household, extended a measure of respect towards you. You also encountered some nobles who, despite their aloof demeanor and occasional condescension, chose to withhold their judgments and refrain from speaking of you in whispers.

On the other side , your betrothed's family proved to be a pleasantly unexpected surprise. Although you had met them, their treatment of you was surprising. Despite your initial reservations, you found yourself genuinely appreciating their demeanor more than you had anticipated.

His younger brothers were charming and exhibited a genuine warmth towards you. Whenever you exchanged words with them, your heart would quicken at the thought of having such affectionate and adorable siblings like Lucerys, Joffrey, and, of course, the little twins, who, despite their tender age and limited speech, were always eager to play with you.

In contrast, when you arrived at the fortress, his cousins, Rhaena and Baela, made a strong impression. They were the first to greet you, guiding you through the stone corridors with ease and engaging you in lighthearted gossip. Their linked arms and gentle smiles created a welcoming atmosphere, helping you to feel more at ease amidst the grandeur of the fortress.

The impression left by the Queen and King consort was notably different. Their presence conveyed undeniable authority, and their demeanor naturally inspired a sense of apprehension. This reflected some of the rumors you had heard about them. Despite this, their treatment of you was unexpectedly kind, providing a surprising degree of comfort amidst the formality and gravity of their status.

Yet you had not had the opportunity to meet your future husband. Despite your attempts to learn about him, the family that had welcomed you so warmly consistently avoided any discussion of his person. Whenever his name arose, they quickly changed the subject, a practice that only heightened your unease. This persistent evasion led you to ponder whether the rumors of his alleged cruelty might indeed have some truth to them.

You hoped that this was the reason you now stood before the towering wall, your wedding cross firmly clutched in your hand, after hastening through the dimly lit corridors of the Red Keep. It seemed as though the cross might offer the comfort and strength that your heart so desperately yearned for.

However, though the cross afforded you a measure of solace, the imposing wall before you offered nothing but a stark contrast. With a deep breath, you resolved to go ahead, turning with determination toward the tree beside you, intent on scaling it to reach the other side.

And even though doubts about your decision were increasingly overtaking your thoughts, your pride would not permit you to retreat. Not in that moment.

Taking tentative steps toward the tree, you hesitated, adjusting the cross around your neck one last time. With a deep breath, you lifted your dress and began to climb the tree awkwardly, nervously watching your feet as you ascended.

Truth be told, you had never engaged in anything of the sort before. While you had observed your older brothers undertaking various daring exploits, your own experiences were vastly different. Forever engrossed in books or strolling through the gardens of your home, you had never ventured into their adventurous pursuits, and even despite your yearning to join them, they consistently excluded you, insisting that girls lacked the courage for such undertakings.

Yet here you were, clambering up the tree with hasty but clumsy efforts, striving to escape a grim destiny after being sold as a mere pawn by your own father. So absorbed were you in your plight that you failed to perceive a pair of brown eyes drawing near, observing you with a hint of quiet amusement.

You could already see the sea on the other side of the wall and feel the sudden wind hit your flushed face gently. For a moment, you were so distracted that you barely noticed your foot that was now stepping lightly on the back of your dress, and before you could realize anything, you lost your balance.

Just as you began to fall, strong arms seized you mid-descent, pulling you back before calamity could strike. The stranger had moved with startling swiftness, and before you could fully grasp what had transpired, you found yourself securely held in his embrace, your feet barely brushing the ground.

His hold was firm yet gentle, and for a moment, the world around you seemed to still, as did your breath. You looked up, startled, and met a pair of amused yet strangely beguiling brown eyes, close enough for you to discern an indescribable color within them. A faint smile played upon his lips as he aided you in regaining your balance, watching intently as you dusted the hem of your red skirt; his expression still touched with quiet amusement.

Still, you couldn’t help but notice how strikingly handsome the young man was.

You opened your mouth to offer your thanks, but the stranger interjected with smooth courtesy. “It seems the tree bears you no favor, my lady,” he remarked, his voice tinged with refined irony. As you took a step back, his gaze remained unwavering, and he continued with an air of gentle provocation, “May I inquire what grand quest compelled you to seek what lies beyond the wall?”

You blinked in embarrassment, your fingers instinctively gripping the cross around your neck, unwilling to disclose the harsh reality of your future. Meanwhile, the stranger's lips curled into a subtle smile as he noted your reaction, though you remained unaware of his quiet amusement.

It was a rare sight to see a lady in such haste, particularly when she was his betrothed.

“So?” He inquired with a casual tone, a hint of mockery in his voice as he observed the flush of annoyance rising to your cheeks.

Raising your chin, you tried to meet his gaze with composure, though you faltered slightly when he remained unmoved. “I do not see how this is any of your concern, my lord,” you finally said, irritation clear in your voice as you tightened your grip on the cross. Jacaerys, upon hearing your words, tilted his head back and laughed heartily, leaving you bewildered; his evident satisfaction seemed to grow with the sharpness of your response.

Jacaerys had not anticipated that his betrothed would be so defensive, yet he could not deny that he was intrigued by the tone of your voice. “It appears,” he began, his voice taking on a measured curiosity as he studied your face and felt his own heartbeat quicken while he noticed how the wind gently tousled your hair, “that you possess a spirit I had not expected. This surely bodes well for our future encounters.” He attempted to flirt, clearing his throat slightly to hide a smile when he saw your confused expression directed at him.

You clearly did not grasp the meaning behind his words, nor did you have any desire to understand his intentions. The day had already been fraught with mishaps—first, you had narrowly escaped injury from a fall, and now you found yourself in the garden of your betrothed’s castle, unwittingly admiring the presence of a man you had thought was a stranger.

Sweat dampened your palms, and your heart pounded heavily. For a moment, you thought you were enduring the torment of sinners, and a wave of shame overtook you.

Perhaps this was a divine punishment from the Seven for daring to flee the fate that had been decreed for you.

"What do you intend by that?" you inquired, releasing your wedding cross and lightly folding your arms in front of your chest. Jacaerys had to exercise considerable self-discipline to refrain from briefly casting his gaze upon your bosom. You’re too pretty, too hot to be true. You are far too beautiful, too captivating, for reality to bear.

“Me? Nothing at all, my lady. Save for the fact that I had not expected to meet my betrothed under such... curious circumstances,” the prince replied with a casual air, his voice tinged with wry amusement, as though the matter were of no import. The moment his words reached your ears, your breath stilled, a sudden wave of disbelief washing over you—he must surely be toying with you.

Your hand rose once more to the cross at your neck, fingers trembling as your gaze fell upon him, and there, hanging from his throat, gleamed a matching cross. Your heart, before steady, now raced with a force that echoed through your very being.

Before you stood none other than the crowned prince, a man whose reputation, stained by dark tales and bloodshed, echoed throughout the Westerlands, and even worse, the man destined to become your future lord and husband. To deepen your dismay, you had made a spectacle of yourself in a vain attempt to escape the impending marriage set for the following week. It felt as though some celestial force took cruel delight in your misfortune.

Jacaerys let out a soft chuckle, his gaze still filled with amusement as it lingered upon you. His eyes drifted to your neck, now flushed with embarrassment, yet he remained silent, merely folding his arms across his chest and waiting for you to break the silence.

You blinked slowly, striving to fully grasp the weight of the revelation you had just received. As the truth settled within you, your eyes widened in surprise. Releasing the cross from around your neck, you performed a courteous bow, murmuring, “I—I deeply apologize, my prince.” You shut your eyes tightly, bracing yourself for the anticipated reprimand or punishment. Instead, you felt a gentle touch on your hand, and when you finally dared to look up, you met your betrothed’s gaze, now softened with unexpected tenderness. He drew you gently to your feet and brought you close to him.

“Apologies are not needed, my lady,” he said with sincere warmth, drawing closer in a way that might have seemed improper were it not for your betrothal. Yet he cared little for such formalities, his heart quickening as the soft scent of you reached his nostrils.

"Besides, I must confess that this first encounter was quite unexpected." He paused, his gaze softening as he regarded your startled expression and parted lips. "Yet, it is most gratifying," he concluded with a sincere smile. Noting your visible discomfort, his smile softened into a tender frown, and he took a step back to afford you more space.

Jacaerys was well aware of Lord Lannister’s disdain for him, and he had no illusions about the sentiment being mutual. He knew of the cruel rumors Lord Lannister spread about his true nature—rumors that, though largely unfounded, were completely absurd and far from the truth of his character. It was no secret, despite Lord Lannister’s attempts at discretion, that the man harbored a deep-seated loathing for the Westerlands.

The fact that you had been sent to him, despite your evident fear, only served to deepen the prince’s dislike for the man. What sort of father would cast his daughter away when he had spent a lifetime cultivating her fears?

He was aware of your fear; upon his return from travels, his first action was to inquire about your well-being from his mother and cousins. Their accounts were unwavering: you feared the union and, indeed, feared him. This knowledge weighed heavily on him. He had been pledged to you not as a source of dread but as your protector, meant to soothe your anxieties, not to heighten them. The thought of causing you such discomfort was nearly unbearable to him.

“So you vow you will not harm me?” You asked after a few moments, your voice trembling with uncertainty. Seeing him shake his head in denial, you took a hesitant step toward your bethrothed.

The prince did not seem so cruel up close; indeed, he appeared rather charming—too charming.

Jacaerys moved closer to you as he saw your posture visibly relax, his cold hand quickly resting on the curve of your neck while his thumb gently caressed your throat. This made your cheeks flush furiously, and you instinctively leaned into his touch. “I am prepared to offer you all my love” he confessed, his voice low yet gentle, sending a shiver through you and deepening your blush. “And I hope you will do the same.” He admitted, and without realizing it, you took another step toward him.

“What if I cannot?” you dared to ask in a hushed tone, feeling his fingers gently trace the cross upon your neck.

He smiled, lowering his head close to your neck, his lips brushing against your skin as he placed a soft kiss, causing you to bite your lip in response. “If you cannot bring yourself to love me, even just a little,” he murmured against your skin, his cool breath stirring a shiver within you, “then I suggest you hate me entirely.” He concluded with one final, lingering kiss near your wedding cross.

Stepping back with deliberate grace, Jacaerys turned away, casting one final glance over his shoulder. He left you standing alone in the midst of the garden, your heart racing.

And though you might not yet admit it, the urge to flee had waned, and in its place, a budding resolve to love him began to grow within you.

The next few days passed quickly.

Amidst the whirlwind of preparations for your union with Prince Jacaerys Velaryon and the steady arrival of lords from across Westeros, time slipped away like sand through your fingers. So absorbed were you in the endless tasks and the moments shared with your betrothed and his family that you barely noticed a full week had passed since that fateful, improper encounter, and the thought of fleeing King's Landing had quietly drifted from your mind.

In truth, thoughts of home were the furthest from your mind. Since that inescapable encounter with your betrothed, he had made it a point and effort to be by your side in every spare moment both of you had.

Jacaerys proved ever thoughtful, ever watchful, always a step ahead to anticipate your every need; his hand extended before you could even ask. Though his temper seemed quick in the few council meetings you had witnessed, the patience he reserved for you was a tenderness unlike any other, a quiet devotion that made your heart soften with each passing day.

Now, as his gentle hand held yours and he led you through the halls, you couldn't help but feel silly for believing your father's harsh words. Nothing your father had said seemed true. How could he be the monster you'd feared when his every glance was so full of tenderness, making your heart flutter and warmth spread through your chest?

He was kind, and none who genuinely knew him could contest that.

“Do not be so fearful,” he encouraged, casting a reassuring glance over his shoulder as you nervously bit your lower lip. “Come now, Vermax means you no harm,” he promised, his gaze softening as it fell upon the small cross hanging from your neck.

“Jace, I am quite uncertain about this,” you murmured softly, your heart pounding with a fervor you could not wholly place—whether due to the warmth of his touch upon your hand or the prospect of meeting a dragon. Either way, a flush of heat crept upon you, warming your cheeks with apprehension.

Your future lord husband halted suddenly, causing you to stumble and lightly press against his chest, the wedding cross grazing gently against your forehead. As you looked up, you found yourself caught in the depths of his warm, hazel eyes, which regarded you with their usual blend of tenderness and amusement.

“There is no need for fear,” Jacaerys said softly, his voice laced with gentle charm as he spoke your name. His hand cupped your face, and his thumb caressed your cheek soothingly. “Vermax is loyal to me and tends to favor those I hold dear.” He added, pressing a tender kiss to your forehead. The warmth of his touch and his endearing words made a rosy blush rise to your cheeks.

With a tremulous sigh, you acquiesced, unaware of the pleased glint in his eyes. “Very well, I place my trust on you,” you declared with earnest and apprehensive commit. Before further words could be spoken, Jacaerys gently took your arm, guiding you towards the dragon pit, where soon the majestic form of Vermax appeared.

The dragon lay majestically upon a bed of straw and scattered bones, and you instinctively grasped the prince’s arm, a gesture that seemed to please him. The dragon’s emerald scales gleamed softly in the dim light, and as its eyes opened, they fixed upon you and Jacaerys. The heir greeted the beast with a small smile, which prompted the dragon to respond with a gentle, approving rumble, causing Jacaerys’s smile to broaden even further.

You observed Jacaerys reluctantly extricate himself from your embrace, casting you an apologetic glance as he approached the great beast. He murmured softly in an unfamiliar tongue, his voice a soothing murmur against the backdrop of the dragon’s deep, rumbling breaths. The massive creature turned its head to regard you with a curious gaze, causing you to hold your breath in trepidation.

He was too big for a young dragon.

“Wait a moment,” Jacaerys said gently, stepping closer as he beckoned Vermax to advance. The dragon’s enormous head lowered in response, yet Jacaerys’s gaze, filled with warmth and reassurance, remained steadily upon you. You instinctively touched the cross around your neck, striving to steady your breath as Vermax approached. Jacaerys’s hand gave your arm a brief, reassuring squeeze. “He possesses a loyalty grand as his size.” He murmured softly, his voice imbued with a calming reassurance.

As Vermax drew closer, you instinctively sought out Jacaery’s hand, finding solace in his steadfast presence. He tightened his grip reassuringly, his own heart echoing the intensity of the moment, and his touch provided a grounding comfort amid the dragon’s grandeur. “There is no need for fear,” he murmured in a quiet tone, his gaze tender as he observed you. “He's gentle, despite his appearance.” You took a hesitant step forward, your heart racing as Vermax’s large, watchful eyes met yours.

You swallowed hard at the sight.

Your betrothed’s thumb brushed lightly over your knuckles, offering silent encouragement. Yet he could not help but cast a quick glance at the neckline of your dress and the way you clutched the small cross, shaking his head to clear the indecent thoughts that had entered his mind. “He is not so different from me,” he said almost abruptly, trying to dispel the images from his mind while meeting your apprehensive and fearful gaze. “Gentler than the tales might suggest.” Hearing this, you let out a soft laugh despite the situation, recognizing the subtle hint in his sentence.

Jace couldn’t help but feel relieved when he heard your small laughter.

He let out a soft, reassuring chuckle, his grip on your hand tightening to anchor you to the moment, and you instinctively returned the squeeze. Vermax, now only a few steps away, lowered his massive head, his watchful eyes observing you once again both with a serene curiosity as though acknowledging the connection forming between you and his rider. He seemed too smart for a giant beast.

Jacaerys stepped closer to the dragon, gently drawing you by his side. His voice, steady and tinged with pride, broke the silence. “See? He is at ease with you.” His gaze shifted back to you, a warm smile playing on his lips. “You have nothing to fear.” He said softly, his eyes never leaving yours as you once again focused on the young dragon.

As you drew nearer, the warm breath of the dragon stirred the air, causing a shiver to run down your spine. Yet, with Jace by your side, you felt a sense of calm. His hand, still holding yours, provided constant reassurance, and you could feel his thumb tracing gentle, reassuring circles on your skin.

As you approach the dragon, its warm breath stirred a gentle, soothing breeze against your face, heightening your anticipation. Drawing a deep breath, you extended your trembling hand towards the dragon, your fingers brushing against the cool, smooth scales of its vast snout. The texture is both unfamiliar and captivating, the dragon’s scales feeling like a blend of polished stone and supple leather beneath your touch.

You could almost hear Jacaerys holding his breath behind you.

Vermax remained still, his large eyes half-closing as if acknowledging your gesture, his steady, rhythmic breath resonating through the chamber. When he closed his eyes and leaned into your touch, you widened your own eyes in wonder, your mouth slightly agape as you glanced back at Jace, who struggled to stifle a chuckle.

“By the Seven!” you exclaimed, blinking slowly. “I did it!” you nearly shouted, gripping your betrothed’s hand tightly, which drew a hearty, amused laugh from him in response to your delight.

“I told you,” he murmured softly amidst his laughter, squeezing your hand reassuringly. His eyes, twinkling with both amusement and something more profound, regarded you with tender warmth.

As you and your betrothed made your way back to the castle, your hands remained intertwined, a detail neither of you seemed to notice amidst the comfort you found in each other's presence. The corridors of the castle, bathed in the soft light of flickering torches, seemed to contract, leaving just the two of you in your own world. The only sounds were the gentle rhythm of your breathing, the passage of time unnoticed, and the cool air that lightly brushed against your faces.

Jacaerys, however, could not help but steal occasional glances at you, as if he were trying to memorize every detail of your face and form. His eyes lingered on the neckline of your dress, the softness of your lips, and the small cross around your neck—the emblem of the union to come tomorrow. For a brief moment, he reached with his free hand to touch the cross, feeling a warm flutter in his chest as his fingers brushed the delicate metal.

The prince blinked slowly, his heart pounding with anticipation at the thought of the wedding to come. He could hardly contain his eagerness.

“I must say,” Jacaerys spoke gently, finding any excuse to linger near you as you stood by your chamber door. “You’ve been a delight in the dragon pit, especially considering it’s your first encounter with dragons.” He chided himself internally for the awkwardness of his words, yet his smile remained tender and sincere, his eyes reflecting genuine admiration.

You blushed and blinked slowly, a touch of bewilderment in your eyes, though your heart raced at his tentative praise.

“I am glad to have shared the experience with you,” you replied sincerely, noticing how he swallowed hard, as if wrestling with an unspoken urgency and desire.

Little did you realize, Jacaerys’s heart ached with a longing as deep as the ancient woods. The thought of waiting until tomorrow to share your first kiss at the altar felt like an eternity of torment. He yearned to taste the sweetness of your lips in a moment that was uniquely yours, far from the prying eyes of the court. Perhaps that was merely seeking any excuse to close the distance between you, his heart aching to turn his longing into a cherished reality.

Regardless, Jacaerys drew closer, his hand gently releasing yours to rest upon your neck. As his thumb softly caressed your throat, a wave of memories from the past week washed over you, bringing a delicate flush to your cheeks. Despite your growing shyness, you stood still, your breath mingling with his as he leaned in. “There is something I have longed to do,” he murmured, his voice low and filled with a yearning tenderness. “I need this, I need you.”

Before you could utter a word, his lips met yours in a fervent kiss, tongues entwining and teeth brushing lightly. The world around you seemed to dissolve, leaving only the sensation of his warmth and the pressing desire of the kiss you shared. You felt his fingers pressing firmly against your throat and his hand gently grasping the small cross around your neck, and you swiftly mirrored the action, drawing him closer as the kiss deepened.

Jacaerys's heart beat in unison with yours, the kiss growing more intense, and both of you felt a growing warmth as the passion heightened. Yet neither of you cared, too lost in the taste of each other's mouths to think of anything else.

When at last he pulled away, his breath was heavy, his eyes searching yours with a tender yearning that made your heart race.

“Thank you for another amazing day.” He whispered, his voice soft and full of affection, as though the words themselves were a caress. He lowered his head and pressed a gentle kiss to your neck, his lips lingering there, sending a shiver through you. Your breath caught, and you bit your swollen lip, every part of you longing for his touch once more.

“I can hardly wait for being completely yours,” he murmured, stepping back slowly, as though reluctant to part from you. His hand fell from yours only when necessary, and you turned toward your chamber door, heart still fluttering. As you crossed the threshold, you glanced back to see him standing there, a soft, private smile touching his lips.

You could hardly wait to be his, too.

The atmosphere was filled with warmth.

At the great table laid out for both your families, Jacaerys beheld you from across the room, his gaze alight with a tender affection. His smile conveyed the warmth and admiration he felt, as if he were savoring the very sight of you amidst the grandeur of the feast.

The vows of your union had been spoken mere hours past, and though he had already basked in the wondrous sight of you in your bridal attire, Jace could not help but be entranced by you. His eyes roamed over you, captivated by how the gown clung to your form, as if shaped by divine hands. You appeared as if sculpted by the gods themselves.

It took all of Jacaery’s self-control not to kiss you as he had the night before or to press his lips to your neck and savor the softness of your skin. He was also haunted by the countless times he had anxiously clutched that cross, now missing from both of your necks.

Yet, though the cross that once adorned both your necks was no longer present, the crown prince could not stifle his smile. The torchlight danced upon your fingers, casting a radiant gleam on the ring that now symbolized your union. It was a silent proclamation of your bond, mirrored by the way he placed his hand upon the table, a reminder that declared his heart and soul belonged to you.

Jacaerys still recalled the first time he beheld you, some three years past, on the day of his mother’s coronation. He remembered your father’s countenance darkening with displeasure as the crown was set upon his mother’s brow. Yet, more vividly, he recalled you: the timid maiden who sought to retreat from the prying gazes of the court.

He still remembered how, towards the end of the coronation feast, you had quietly slipped away to the garden. He had followed you from a distance, drawn by a curiosity he scarcely understood. From the shadows, he had observed as the moonlight cast a gentle glow upon your face. In that moment, seeing you bathe in such soft radiance, he felt his heart race with fervor he had never known before. However, he was too afraid to speak to you.

When the queen spoke of the union between you and him, Jacaerys had been taken aback too surprise to say a word, yet he was far from opposed. Indeed, his heart had nearly leapt from his chest upon learning that the bond between both of you was to be secured.

He was glad for the marriage, and from the smile his mother, Queen Rhaenyra Targaryen, bestowed upon him, he could see that she, too, was delighted by his joy.

Turning his gaze away from the gathered company, Jacaerys furrowed his brow in concern. When he looked back and found you missing from view, he felt a pang of worry. Yet his anxiety was swiftly eased when he noticed you slipping through the crowd of lords and saw the door ajar. A soft chuckle escaped him as he ignored the glances, and he followed your retreating form toward the door.

The prince followed after you, his footsteps resounding against the cold stone walls, mingling with the fading echoes of the banquet's revelry. His mind stilled when you glanced back, gifting him a playful smile that stirred something deep within him, urging him to quicken his stride. But before his hand could reach yours, you took off, lifting the delicate fabric of your wedding gown as you ran, leaving Jacaerys momentarily stunned. But it took him only a heartbeat to recover before he surged forward, chasing after you with determination.

Both of your laughs, now distant from the fading echoes of the banquet, echoed through the castle halls. As you and Jacaerys raced through the corridors, your hearts pounded and your breaths came in quick bursts, the joyous sound of your chase reverberating through the echoing stone halls.

You swiftly reached the garden, the cool night air embracing you as you stepped outside. Yet, before you could proceed to the heart of the garden, Jacaerys closed the distance, his hands gently resting on your waist. His touch sent a shiver through you, eliciting one more merry laugh from your lips.

His playful gaze met yours with a mischievous glint, and you placed your hands upon his chest, feeling his heart beat as strongly as, or perhaps even more than, your own. His breath brushed gently against your face.

“Do you intend to run from me all night long, my love?” Jacaerys inquired softly, his voice tender as he sighed deeply, feeling your chest press against his. You merely blinked, slightly surprised by his affectionate term, but a smile still blossomed on your lips.

You tilted your head gently, a faint blush rising to your cheeks, while your eyes shyly averted from his. “Perhaps I enjoy being pursued by you,” you teased, though Jacaerys saw the truth in your words.

He was certain you would be his ruin, but he was ready to embrace it willingly.

“Good for you, because I am willing to follow you everywhere you go,” he whispered softly. Your heart fluttered, and for a moment, you felt foolish for ever believing the tales your father had spun about your lord husband. In his embrace, you discovered warmth and protection unlike anything you had known before.

Jacaerys was all that your father was not: respectful, honest, a man of virtue and loyalty. For a fleeting moment, you were moved to seek forgiveness from the gods for your attempt to flee days earlier. To wed Jacaerys now seemed a divine blessing, and despite the brevity of your time together, you felt assured that the future ahead would be bright with him by your side.

You raised a hand to smooth a stray curl from his brow, feeling him lean into your touch. “I’m not sure I could ever escape you,” you said, meeting his gaze with a playful glimmer. “Even if I tried.”

Jacaerys chuckled softly. “And indeed, you made quite an effort, did you not, lady wife?” His teasing tone brought a delicate blush to your cheeks. As you lowered your hand, his laughter subsided, and he regarded you with a more subdued, yet still playful, expression. “Are you upset with me, my love?” he inquired, his eyes twinkling with mischief.

You bit your lip, striving to conceal the flush of embarrassment and the laughter bubbling within you. Yet, despite your best efforts, a laugh escaped, echoing through the garden. Your husband looked upon you with wonder and delight, soon joining in your laughter.

Neither you nor Jacaerys knew how long your laughter had lasted, but when it finally subsided, he pressed his forehead to yours. A smile lingered on his lips, growing even wider as you rubbed your body against his as he gently tightened his embrace around your waist.

You could burn in that moment.

“You cannot fathom how long I have yearned for this union,” he confessed with a soft sigh. You held your breath, reluctant to disturb the moment. “You know not how deeply I wish to continue loving you,” he continued, his eyes still closed, as if he lacked the courage to speak those words while gazing into your eyes.

Your mind seemed to cloud, and your heart pounded against his chest. “Do you love me?” was all that escaped your lips. The moment the words were spoken, you felt a pang of foolishness for your sudden question.

Yet, he just chuckled a little dryly.

“If I do love you?” Jacaerys asked, his eyes opening slowly to reveal a depth of feeling that made it impossible for you to look away. “My heart is yours,” he said, his voice soft. “If you command it to still, it shall obey; if you tell it to depart, it will go. Whatever you ask of it, it shall do. Every part of me belongs to you, for you to guide as you wish.”

He paused, his gaze earnest as he searched for the right words. “To say ‘I love you’ hardly captures it; my soul is wholly and desperately yours.”

You blinked slowly, deeply touched by his words, oblivious to the almost desperate look he wore as he searched your face for any sign of doubt or hesitation.

Overwhelmed by the intensity of his confession, you leaned in and sealed your lips with his. This kiss was unlike the passionate embrace you had shared the previous night; it was imbued with a tender and soft love that transcended mere desire. It was so right, so warm, that Jacaerys felt as though he might dissolve into your embrace, just as you felt you could in his.

He could feel that you were beginning to love him, and he cherished every second of that kiss.

As you slowly withdrew from the embarace, you felt his hands once again gently encircling your throat, his thumb tenderly caressing your neck. His eyes remained fixed upon you, brimming with a love so profound that it quickened the heartbeat of anyone who beheld it.

“I desire that my soul be wholly consumed by yours,” you declared softly, watching as his eyes widened in astonishment and his grip around your throat tightened ever so slightly.

“What are you trying to say?” Jacaerys asked, though he already knew the answer. His voice was rough yet soft, and his eyes darkened as his breath quickened. "Are you certain, my love?" he inquired, even though it was clear that this was his deepest longing in that moment and had been since he first beheld you.

“Lead me to our chambers husband.” you commanded with unwavering certainty, pressing yourself closer to him as if seeking to become one.

Jacaerys leaned in to place a tender, slightly lingering kiss upon your neck, a smile gracing his lips. “What my lady wife desires,” he murmured softly against your delicate skin, “she shall have.”

And you definitely did.

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#— 💭 lua works #jacaerys velaryon x reader #house of the dragon #jacaerys velaryon #hotd x reader #hotd #jacaerys targaryen x reader #house of the dragon fanfic #hotd imagine

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theywontletmebeprincipal · 1 year ago

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I think they must’ve taken the basic idea you get taught in grade school science of “ancient people evolved to look different because specific features helped them adapt better to their home climates during a period when survival as a whole was much harder” n failed to account for the fact that that’s only one (1) of many, many reasons why there’s such a large diversity of human appearance. not to even mention the claim that “discrimination only happens because of/between people who look different from one another” is just blatantly provably untrue

just saw somebody fully unironically in the year of our lord 2024 propose that “the only way to fix racism is to have everyone live separately where their ethnic features naturally occur” as like, a woke take. What Is Wrong With You

#what really gets me is like #1. how would you even go about enacting this anyway. it seems like it’d go disastrously #do you kidnap people. are we seriously arguing for woke kidnapping #I can’t help but think of my own state’s history attempting to kick out the japanese during wwii #n how badly that went for everyone involved. just how many lives n families it ruined forever #2. what about mixed race people. especially those who have been mixed race for hundred of years #like for example where would a mexican who’s not of purely indigenous ancestry go. mexico or spain #this is just. an objectively stupid way to classify people #n it leans very hard into phrenology land to be fully honest #what do you do about interracial couples? their mixed race kids? generations of intermarried families?#do you measure that out with some bogus ‘science’? I don’t think so #3. why would people get along just because they look similar anyway #look at how intense xenophobia is between white european countries. clearly looks are not really the issue here #I mean look how hard greece n italy hate each other. they’re like an hour’s boat ride away from one another #even disregarding the notion of countries n borders. communities fight with one another. it’s what they do #it’s sort of the nature of communities that there’s always another community you’ll end up fighting with #4. What About Languages #like. hm #ireland speaks english mostly so let’s say for this hypothetical I’m norwegian #if you sent me to norway I’d be FUCKED. I don’t know norwegian I know american english n mexican spanish #if there’s an influx of people speaking different langauges coming in doesn’t it make sense that they’d just sort of?#be discriminated against for that instead?#this whole philosophy is so filled with holes it’s like a shitty ya dystopia premise #a real ‘save the pearls’ ass situation to be in

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spatialwave · 8 days ago

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high, high, i'm so high.

➸ pairing: thanos/choi su-bong x fem!reader ➸ ask: "aaaaa since you're taking requests then could you please write a thanos x reader including a reader who's just as flashy as him in terms of looks? (i mean something like dyed hair or piercings but anything else can go too!!) thank you!!" ➸ word count: 2k words ➸ tags: semi-nsfw, drug use, kissing, mostly dialogue, thanos wants reader so bad, lol. ➸ notes: tysm for asking! will likely expand this into another nsfw chapter, hehe. title from "High High" by GD&TOP.

The games were bullshit. You weren’t sure why you ever made that call to join. The feeling of dried blood on your face was one that you could happily go without feeling ever again. Still, you voted to stay because the money poured into that hanging glass pig was far too enticing to ignore. To take home 45.6 billion won would be a dream—you could move like you always wanted. Pay off your and your mother’s debts, travel the world, and never look back at your old life.

Though you weren’t the only person with the same dreams, about half of the current players were just as hungry for the money as you. It would be tough, but you knew were certain you could make it—the first game was child’s play.

You sat on the edge of your bunk, the lowest in the row, and you toyed at your tongue piercing with your teeth and staring amongst the masses. You were attempting to ignore the gaze of the Choi Su-bong, known as the self-proclaimed Thanos, and it was growing more difficult.

He’d already tried hitting on you during the first game, blowing you a kiss that you turned your head from, and he didn’t seem like he was going to stop fighting for your attention. You were an eyesore to most, but your looks seemed to intrigue him more than you’d liked.

A wild mess of bright red hair, tattoos littering your skin and a tongue piercing—a disappointment to your grandparents, but you were a tattoo artist. You hardly stood out back home, but here? It was hard to blend in.

You remembered the looks from others when the games started, most of the players keeping their distance. Unlike the other wild card in the game, you didn’t share the same charisma or extroversion, meaning finding a group to blend in with was difficult. You weren’t sure if that was a good or bad thing, figuring that at some point down the line, having friends would only make the games difficult—only one could win, right?

And you were more than certain that even if everyone who voted ‘no’ died, the games would continue, and no one would vote to go home. Everyone was greedy.

“Senorita,” a voice cooed to your left, and you flickered your gaze over to the one person who’d heard speaking english during the games. Even with a quick glance, you could see the way his pupils were blown out.

“Not interested,” you quipped, though your voice carried a hint of amusement.

Thanos leaned against your bunk as the other players began gathering before the next vote began, his hand wrapping around the post. Wide eyes watched you, jaw clenching out of necessity as he looked you up and down.

“Don’t you know who I am?” He murmured confidently, a charming smile gracing his lips, and you hated that it actually made you smirk. A bit of attention wasn’t so bad.

“Mm,” you hummed, tapping a finger to your chin as you pretended to think, “Some rapper who got scammed by that guy over there, right?” Your finger then pointed to Player 333, sitting a few bunks down as everyone began to grow impatient for the vote.

He scolded you with a smack of his lips, scrunching his nose as he flickered his gaze to Myung-gi, half of his face bruised. Blown-out eyes settled back at you, not losing that look of persistence. They focused on your hair, then down to your hands, which were covered in tattoos that poked out from your sleeves.

“He deserved it,” he said, sitting down on the edge of your bunk and invading your space, “Join my team.” He spoke with a thick accent over the English words.

Your head tilted to the side, your eyes narrowing slightly as you looked him up and down. His knees pressed into your thigh, the slight pressure building heat in your stomach that you’d been avoiding well for the past few days. You looked to your left, eyes landing on Player 124, who had been watching you too not-so-secretly, along with another boy who looked out of place next to him.

“Only if you give me some of this,” you said, reaching forward and curling a finger into the necklace that you tugged out from the confines of his sweater. Your fingers brushed against his skin, sending a shiver up his spine. He knew then he wasn’t going to stop now. You’ll share with him, but not the pretty girl?”

Thanos grabbed your wrist, smirking as he pulled your hand away, “Pretty girls shouldn’t do things like that. You won’t be able to handle it.”

“Oh, come on.” You leaned closer, offering him a toothy grin, “I’ve done worse. Don’t I look the type?”

Interest glimmered in his eyes, but the idea of sharing with too many people concerned him. He needed enough to get him to the end; he could always cut off Nam-su.

“Troublesome,” he muttered, pursing his lips. It was a quick exchange; the colourful pills hidden in the cross were quickly tucked away after he kept one hidden in his hands, “Open.”

You widened your eyes for a moment, locking his gaze as he withheld the pill from you until you obeyed. Rolling your eyes, you moved with him as he turned away from the rest of the players, making sure you were facing toward the wall as you opened your mouth—sticking your tongue out.

Su-bong wore a small smile when you revealed your piercing, excitement burning through him as he lifted the blue tablet and pressed it to your tongue. You curled your tongue back into your mouth, holding the drug beneath your tongue as you felt it begin to dissolve. Just as you were about to thank him, he lifted a hand to rest on your chin.

“Enjoy,” he said in english, his thumb grazing along your bottom lip and slightly tugging it down until it snapped back into place, a big smile forming on his lips, “Vote circle. Then you can team up with us so we win until we’re rich.”

The drug left a sweet taste under your tongue, and its effects were already easing the shakiness you’d felt during the games. A treat that you needed to escape the grim reality—the idea of being high as hell during the games seemed better than not. Even if you died, at least you’d be having fun.

“Okay,” you spoke, the english word rolling off your tongue easily.

There was an electrified moment between you two, and you knew he was going to become a problem, but not in the way you had expected. You certainly didn’t have time for feelings—not here.

When the lights went out a few hours later, the high left you restless but euphoric. You tossed and turned in the bed, your sweater removed from your body as the drugs left you warm, a leg sticking out from the blanket that barely covered you. Just as sleep felt like it might approach you, there was movement in the corner of your eye, and you snapped your gaze to the side.

“What are you–” you tried to speak, but Su-bong’s hand clasped over your mouth.

“Quiet,” he whispered, glancing around and listening to the sounds of others around you snoring and making sure no one had heard or peaked towards you.

It was dark enough that the two of you being seen would be unlikely, but it wouldn’t be ideal to alert anyone—especially not when he’d approached you with the intent to slip under the covers with you.

He removed his hands from your lips, and you could barely see the smile on his lips as he moved onto your bed and slid onto the mattress beside you. So easily, he rested his head on your pillow, noses practically brushing together.

“How are you feeling?” He asked, voice hushed. If the lights were bright, he might’ve been able to see your dilated pupils. However, he could feel the way you were fidgeting, and that was enough to show that the drugs were working well for you.

“Can’t sleep,” you murmured, “too restless.”

“I told you that you couldn’t handle it.” He grinned, his warm breath tickling your face.

“So condescending,” you whined, blinking as you watched him. “Why are you here? Trying to get in my pants now that I’m high?”

Su-bong’s eyes softened, “I couldn’t get you off my mind, so I wanted to say hi.” He admitted cheekily, and you rolled your eyes, but the butterflies in your stomach went wild.

You chuckled, smiling, “You like me that much, huh? Who knew Thanos had a big heart? How cute.” You teased, reaching up and patting his cheek with your hand, letting it rest for a few moments with your thumb brushing his skin. “When we get out of here, take me for some drinks, and we can have a good night together. Okay?”

He hummed deep in his throat, your touch accentuated by the drugs in his system, “We can’t have a good night now?” He murmured, leaning closer until his lips brushed with yours—fuck. Fingers lifted up into your wild hair that rivaled his, then down your ears where they ran over the abundance of piercings, a mix of studs and hoops that decorated each one.

“Why do you think I came over?” Su-bong breathed, the hand that had been fiddling with your piercings now dropping to your bare arm. His eyes followed, having adjusted to the dark and able to see the patterns of the tattoos on your body.

“I thought you couldn’t get me off your mind and wanted to say hi,” you whispered, eyes fluttering at the gentle touches of his hand. The drugs in your system elevated every touch, sending electric shocks of pleasure through your body. You hated it, how you couldn’t be loud right now—how Thanos managed to win you over.

“A man can’t want more than one thing?” He murmured, painted nails raking along your skin.

As much as you wanted to indulge in him, to pull him overtop of you and kiss him until your lips were bruised, you knew it was too risky.

“Get me out of here and I’ll think about giving you more.” You smiled, closing the distance and pressing a soft kiss to his lips. You indulged further for just a brief moment, your tongue pusing past his lips as the ball of your piercing clicked against his teeth—then your hand pressed to his chest and you pushed him away. He toppled back at the sudden shove, slipping off of the mattress and landing onto metal stairs next to the bunk. He landed onto it with a loud thud and grown reverberating from his chest, loud enough that it startled a few of the nearby players, all sitting up in their bed and looking at the source of the noise.

You had to put a hand over your mouth, snickering into it as you watched Thanos sit up, glaring at you as his sore body ached. His gaze lingered on you for a moment, his eyes screaming that he wasn’t done with you yet.

“Go back to sleep. Nosy fucks.” Thanos hissed under his breath at the onlookers, rising to his feet and begrudgingly returning to his bunk a couple rows away from you in his frazzled state. You were sitting up now, watching as his figure blended into the darkness, a small smile on your lips as your heart slammed against your chest.

As Su-bong laid in his bunk, ignoring the whispers coming from Nam-gyu, asking about his luck with you, he pressed a finger to his lips. Your kiss left a lingering vibration, his lips tingling as he imagined what could’ve been—and what would come to be.

You were right; he wasn’t close to being done with you. Not when you gave him a taste.

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