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inbabylontheywept · 2 months

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Soviet Birds.

The secret facility that I work in has holes in the ceiling. We don't know how to get them fixed.

We tried asking the government to fix it, once. We told them that the holes in the older parts of the facility had gotten large enough to fit birds through, and that birds were getting through, and that, perhaps, a Soviet Spy could fit through as well.

After all, it is well known that Soviet Spies and pigeons are approximately the same diameter.

Our hope was that that this vague and nonsensical threat would put a little fire under Uncle Sam's feet. If the fed couldn't be bothered to give a shit about the giant gaping holes in the roof of our facility, perhaps they could be persuaded to give a shit about... Soviet Spies.

This attempt at manipulation 100% blew up in our faces.

See, the government does not need to be persuaded to give a shit about Soviet Spies. It still wakes up most nights, drenched in cold sweat, terrified and confident that a Soviet Spy is hiding in their nightstand. If it sees a rock on the ground, it flips it over, pistol drawn, ready to shoot the Soviet Spy it fully expects to slither out from underneath. Which is to say: The government is crazy. So when we dropped those two words - inflitration risk - in the repair request, they came in guns-a-blazin'.

Does that mean that they fixed the roof? Of course not. Don't be stupid. No, instead of performing basic maintenance, they installed a state of the art alarm system throughout the facility - lasers, sonar, the works - and told us to always be on the guard. Because of the roof holes.

Then they left.

So now we had an extremely good alarm system... and birds. Which have combined in incredibly obvious and predictable ways to produce an unending fountain of problems.

For Example: About once a month, someone gets called in by the local airforce dispatch because AAAAAAAAAAA a Spy is in the Rad Lab! We're all gonna die! Except every time, it's a bird. And I get why we have to check, but every time, the dispatcher is panicked and the person going out has to be like listen, listen: It's a bird. It's always a bird. It's been a bird every month for the last fifteen years. It will be a bird next month. All this stress? Bad for your heart.

Second Example: Sometimes, birds get in while we're actually working. And when it's in the morning, you know, it's a nuisance, and it stops testing (we are not going to risk irradiating a bird) but it's not an all-hands-on-deck situation because it doesn't take ten hours to get a bird out. But surprisingly often, the bird gets in riiiiight at closing time, and in that situation, everyone goes feral because nobody can leave until the alarm is set, and we cannot set the alarm while the bird is there, because the bird would immediately trigger it and then we'd have to stay another 4 hours to confirm that it was not a Soviet Bird.

So in order to go home, everyone's top priority is Get That Bird. And we have a system for it.

Step 1: The test stands tend to be located in rooms with 30+ foot ceilings. We can't catch birds in places like that - so we have to lure the bird into the relatively low ceilinged (8 feet only) upper offices.

We do this by turning all the lights off in the test rooms, then putting floodlights by the exits. I don't know why this works - some kind of evolutionary brain fragment shared by both Bugs and Birds - but work it does. The birds almost always follow after the lights. From there, it’s just two guys moving the floodlight and a third guy to turn off the lights.

Step 2: Everyone else has been waiting for this step. There is this long stairway up from the basement level into the offices, and in the final stage, the floodlights are brought to the base of the stairwell to bring the bird up. At the top of the steps there will be a group of tennish people, waiting for the signal. The light guys will set up the final transfer, everyone will tense, and then, swish...a bird will flit up the stairs and into the offices.

It's like watching werewolves on a full moon. Before the bird cometh, we are engineers. Nerds. Pale and skinny things, trembling under the fluorescent lights. After the bird, we are beasts. Feral, gnawing things, glowing under the orange sunrise of the 70's halogen floodlights.

And like all beasts, we cannot help but give chase.

Step 3: The were-engineers begin the hunt. The goal at the start is not really to catch the bird - just exhaust it. So the pack simply does not relent. Because the stakes are going home on time, the group is basically given free reign to go anywhere in the building. If someone's door is open, and the bird goes inside, they're going to have to deal with ten sweaty panting maniacs leaping around their office. They don't get to say that they're busy, or remark on how all this movement is a terrible distraction. They are allowed to sit in silence during the chaos, and perhaps thank the war party for chasing the bird while they sat comfortably on their ass. This has been explained several times, and it will continue to be explained until cooperation is achieved.

Anyway.

The chase can go on for quite some time. Sometimes, the bird will get tired and find a crevice to hide in, where it can then be reached through standard cornered-bird catching techniques.

Other times, it will slow down enough that someone can actually yoink it out of the air. But this will go on until someone catches the bird and triggers Step 4.

Step 4: The Finale. This is the get-the-bird-out-of-the-building stage, and it requires someone to adopt a specific role: To Become the Sacrificial Vessel of Bird Removal.

This job is both coveted and feared. It's coveted, because holding a wild bird in one's hands is a precious thing. To feel how small, and fragile, and scared it is, only to free it from the building? That is what it's like to be a benevolent God. But the cost! Oh, the cost. The entire time the Vessel is in motion, the bird will be biting the hell out of their fingers. And I cannot emphasize enough just how painful bird bites are. Their entire face is a set of needle posed pliers, and they know tricks the even the cartels haven't figured out yet. So there's always a little hubbub about who shall be The Vessel while onlookers, stranded outside The Office of Bird Capture, can only look on. Quiet arguments and pleas are heard, little fragments of fear and pride and glory trickling out of room like the silver dust left behind in a bag of well shook quarters. The sound of concensus is silence, and the argument will go on until that's all that's left. And then, from the darkness of the final office, the chosen sacrifice will step forward: Hands gently cupped, tears streaming down their face, fingers trembling from the pain of the ongoing bird chomps.

And this scene is what organizes people. Not leadership, not truly. No one can think and coordinate a crowd while their fingers are being attacked with a combination nutcracker/ear piercer. But the crowd sees the suffering of their annointed, and it is driven to do everything poossible to make the process flow. People instinctively flair out, finding the fastest path outside. Doors are held open. Paths are cleared. Someone, somehow, always knows the way forward and can describe it to the sufferer. Left, left, forward. Corner closet. Yep, there's a hall in there. Forward. Two-hundred more feet man, you're doing great. Just hold it together a little longer. You're killing it.

Then the final door swings open, and the bird flees out into what remains of daylight. And yet, even here, the deed is not yet done. I cannot explain it in words, but the crowd that helped is never content until they can see and speak on the Bird Vessel's wounds. They all have to pull the fingers back and see what was given. Estimate the price: One day to get better - No, three - No, a week! Are you blind? Do you see that blood blister? -Yeah, that's not going away anytime soon - Damn, can you believe how feisty those things are? Like wolves without teeth.

(They cannot help but touch as they go. It has always been this way. Even Thomas was not content until he felt the wounds in Christ's hands.)

Only when the last of the helpers has seen, and commented, and commended, will the engineers scatter. It is their return from the underworld that announces to the sun living surface dwellers that they too can go home. (@somerunner tolja it needed to be a post.)

#DoD work #lab nonsense #soviet birds #i really like being the bird guy if you cant tell #i just like birds in general #i think this was an essay?#dont really know how to cover the ending for this thing #one part explanation of insane government inefficiency #one part explanation of the kind of joyful humanity that only *comes* from interacting with hilariously inefficient systems #like a full on defense of the beauty that only comes from poor uses of resources #and one part poetic exploration of the sacrificial hero archetype as a bird catcher #i spent so much fuckin time make this guys you have no idea #maximum effort post #effort post

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chloe-petrichors · 11 days

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seething, blooming // jace x reader

your father has always been something of an opportunist, but trying to marry you off to the blacks while he courts the greens? this is taking playing the game to a whole new level.

the rose discovers she is an instrument of war. —victor hugo.

fandom; house of the dragon pairing; jacaerys velaryon x f!tyrell!reader (no use of y/n) warnings; canon au (set after aegon takes the crown but before luke's death bc luke will never die in my eyes), altered timeline (jace and reader are in their 20s), arranged marriage, mention parental death/death in childbed (reader's mother), love at first sight vibes, jace is a flirtatious little shit with his betrothed, tooth rotting fluff, love confessions. word count; 6k+ notes; one day i might write for another man. but that day is not today. jace velaryon u have my heart. i'm not majorly pleased w this fic but it's given me enough trouble and it's as good as it's gonna get! this was longer originally, and was meant to be a bit more political at first hence the blurb/quote choice, but i haaated some of the scenes so ended up scrapping 'em. she's not as long as predicted as a result but still an ok length i think. some of the scenes i scrapped were tragically the smut ones, so have this fairly pg one-shot with the promise of the smut-shot sitting in my drafts coming ur way soon. fair warning that the scrapping of scenes has fudged with the pacing a bit but honestly i can't take this fic sitting in my drafts any longer so here u go!! i have a taglist now, mostly cos eldrith keeps telling me i have to tag her in everything, so lmk if you'd like to be added to it! requests; are open !

the rising sun paints highgarden in shades of pink and gold.

you stand upon your balcony, finger curled loosely over the pale marble as you stare distantly out over the rolling green fields and blooming gardens. the faint bubbling of the river mander in the distance adds to the peaceful morning, the early wash of sunlight coaxing the sleeping world into life. a cool breeze carries the sweet smell of roses and you take a steadying breath, eyes fluttering shut as you tilt your face up to the sun.

it's a morning that starts like many others. you’ve always risen from bed early, the slow blooming of morning stirring you from slumber more often than not. birds chirp and bees buzz and the river flows and you rise with it, like part of you calls to the breaking dawn.

if not for the thick sheaf of parchment discarded on your father’s desk, it could be a morning like any other. but the parchment is there, and this day will be like no other before it.

today, a dragon is expected at highgarden.

a targaryen has not stepped foot in the reach since before you were born. you don’t think even the princess rhaenyra – queen, now, according to some – had come this far on her marriage tour years ago. but your father has taken it upon himself to invite a prince to your home.

you love your father deeply, but in this you think he must be a fool. as lord paramount of the reach he is, in theory, the power of this kingdom. but anyone with a lick of sense knows that it’s the hightowers that the people look to; oldtown is home to the starry sept, the citadel and, perhaps more importantly, the dowager queen’s family line.

the tyrells have only been in power for a few generations, and people’s memories are long. too many know the truth of how house tyrell had been only a steward when the gardener kings had ruled before the conquest. and so too many see tyrell as a house grasping for power that should be beyond their fingers, and your father is apparently determined to prove them all right.

he’s been careful about his neutrality as war threatens to break out between the targaryen kin, brother and sister both claiming their right to the throne and the realm splitting down the middle. your father has not officially allied with either side, walking a careful tightrope to appease both. up until now you had assumed he sided more with the greens, but he’d sent your assumptions crumbling with only a few sheets of parchment.

your father has always been too ambitious for his own good.

gods, how you miss your mother. when she’d been alive, she’d tempered the worst of your father’s foolishness. she’d been a stark before she’d married, steadfast and sensible in the face of your father’s folly. she’d been a woman unlike any other you’ve known; ferocious and a little wild, but with a good heart and a warm smile for any she’d met.

she’d taught you how to be a lady, but so much more than that – she’d taught you to know your own mind. to know when to mind your tongue and when to speak, how to grow your roots so deep you will always stand tall, flourishing and growing like the most determined of flowers. she’d taught you a little of that northern ice, too, reminding you oft that for as much as you were a rose of highgarden you were equally a wolf of the north, and the wolf’s blood has always run thick in your veins.

she’d called you her little winter rose; delicate and steely and a rare bloom, indeed. she had loved you so fiercely you’d flourished with her tender care, just as the patch of winter roses she’d brought from the glass gardens of winterfell had bloomed ‘neath her careful ministrations. a piece of the north she’d brought south with her, a tiny bit of her home that she’d cradled and cared for until the day you’d lost her to the birthing bed.

your little brother is nearing six, now, and many moons have passed since the sudden grief of your mother had overwhelmed you. but, in recent days you have ached with her loss more often, wondering what she would think of your father’s plans, what she would say to soothe your storm of anxiety. with your looming marriage you find yourself missing your mother acutely, the grief a reopened wound in your chest.

because you are a betrothed woman, now, to be married to a stranger, a prince who is sure to be fighting a war against his kin in the moons to come.

the velaryon prince arrives on dragon back as the sun reaches its peak in the sky.

he dismounts his winged steed in an empty stretch of land a distance from the keep itself, and your father greets him there with a host of staff to accompany him back to the entrance courtyard.

your brother leo bounces in place beside you where you stand with the rest of the household in the courtyard, fairly vibrating with energy at the prospect of seeing a real-life dragon. since the news of the prince’s arrival was announced a sennight ago, leo has done little else but babble about dragons and magic and targaryens. you wish you could share his excitement, his sheer uncomplicated joy, but this visit comes with too many conflicting emotions for you to enjoy it at all.

you’ve always known you would not marry for love. you are the eldest child and only daughter of the lord of the reach – love has never been a factor you could afford to consider. you would do your duty and marry for your house, to seal whatever alliance your father deemed important enough. you’d resigned yourself to this fate as a young girl when your mother had told you in slow, halting words the fear she had felt coming south to marry your father.

but you’d not expected to marry a total stranger. you’d thought your father would at least do you the courtesy of allowing you to meet a suitor before betrothing you to them, but in his feverish ambition to sit his blood on the iron throne he’d promised you to a man you’ve never laid eyes upon.

you don’t want to be queen.

frankly, you think yourself a touch unsuited for it. your father has many times bemoaned your wildness, the wolfs blood that drives you to stubborn recklessness. though you’ve mellowed a little with age and experience, you think you’re still a bit too prone to chaos to be queen of the seven kingdoms one day. never mind the complexities added by the fact that queen rhaenyra’s claim is so fiercely contested, and her half-brother is the one currently physically sitting the iron throne.

thinking about the mess you’re marrying into too much makes your head ache, and the blazing noon sun does little to ease it. leo beside you continues to whisper rapidly about everything he knows about dragons, which is actually quite a lot considering his young age. you think absently you might need to have a word with the maester’s again; leo has wrapped most of the household around his finger, and the elderly maester is prone to indulging your brother when he fixates on a new topic of interest instead of sticking to his lessons.

the sound of hooves on cobble stones startles you from your meandering thoughts, and you straighten your spine as your eyes take in the unfamiliar man riding into the courtyard beside your father while your brother finally falls silent.

he’s handsome, at least; a tumble of dark curls brushing his shoulders, a sharp jaw and a strong nose. though you like to think yourself more than superficial, it eases at least some of your worries to know the prince is attractive to you. your mother had done you the courtesy of explaining what was expected of you on your wedding night after your first moons blood, and in secret since you’d perused the library for books detailing more lustful acts in an effort to satiate your unending curiosity.

you’re worried enough about completing your wifely duties without having to worry about finding the man lying with you repulsive, and so you allow yourself a few moments of relief at his pretty face.

your father dismounts first, gesturing for you to step forward as the prince gets down from his own horse. leo moves forward with you, eyes wide and shining with something akin to hero worship as he gazes at jacaerys. you have a wry thought that perhaps he should marry him since he is so clearly already enamoured, but you brush that aside as your father and the prince approach.

“i am most pleased to introduce my daughter, your grace, as well as my son and heir, leo,” your father says as they reach you, his satisfaction in his successful planning clear as he smiles smugly.

you dip into a perfect curtsey as leo bows a touch clumsily at your side. as heir it would traditionally be leo’s job to greet the prince, but when you send him a sidelong glance you see he is too busy making moon eyes at the darkhaired man to say anything, and so you take it upon yourself to speak.

“welcome to highgarden, my prince. we are honoured to host you,” you greet, finally meeting jacaerys’s eyes. they’re a warm amber shade, the noon sun turning them to liquid honey as he looks at you, and you feel your cheeks flush with the appreciation you can see in his gaze as he drinks you in. it seems he does not find you repulsive either, at least.

he sketches a quick bow, eyes never leaving yours, and you feel your heart start to race in your chest at his attention. “it is an honour to be here, my lady, and to finally make your acquaintance.” he smiles at you then, small and a little crooked but there, and your flush deepens. “i look forward to getting to know you better in the coming days.”

you swallow, hoping your budding attraction is not as obvious as you fear it is. your father is looking increasingly smug as he watches the interaction, though it seems to war with some paternal annoyance as jacaerys lightly flirts with you.

“and i you,” you return softly, a smile quirking on your lips.

“—can i meet your dragon?” leo bursts out, seemingly unable to contain himself any longer, and jacaerys blinks down at him in surprise as you resist the urge to press your palm to your face.

“leo,” you scold immediately as your father chortles at his heir’s enthusiasm for dragons. “the prince has had a long journey. you should give him a chance to settle in before demanding anything of him.”

“right you are, my dear.” your father waves to the household steward before turning to the prince. “alyn will show you to your rooms, your grace, so that you might freshen up, and then we have a feast prepared for this evening to welcome you to highgarden.”

jacaerys nods easily as the greeting crowd begins to disperse, the maester corralling leo to take him for his lessons with fond exasperation even as the boy loudly protests. you mean to go walk the gardens, and so you stay standing in place as the prince trails after your father and steward alyn.

he pauses beside you, though, a slight smile on his face as you look up at him questioningly. your eyes catch on the smattering of freckles on his face, and it takes a moment for you to process his words. “i look forward to speaking to you further at the feast, my lady.”

you smile back at him, cheeks flushing once again as his eyes linger on your mouth for a breathless moment. “i shall save you a dance, my prince,” you return a touch coyly, tucking your hair behind your ear.

“only one dance?” he teases, eyebrow arching.

you hum, head tilting to the side in mock consideration as something like satisfaction gleams in jacaerys’s eyes. “i shall have to use the first dance to judge your dancing skills, your grace, before i risk promising you another.”

he laughs then, a little surprised but no doubt pleased as his eyes crinkle with his wide smile. “then i shall do my best to meet your standards, my lady.” he dips into a quick bow of farewell, then, as you finally take note of your father lingering on the steps to the keep with raised eyebrows.

“we shall see,” you return as you curtsey.

you allow yourself a moment to watch his retreating back, eyes dragging over the strong line of his shoulders before you internally shake yourself and head to the gardens, thoughts swimming with honey brown eyes and tanned, freckled skin and a slow dawning certainty that while this betrothal may be unexpected, you doubt it will leave you unsatisfied.

the feast is in full swing by the time the prince arrives at the hall.

the minstrels are playing a jaunty tune as couples twirl on the dance floor. you sit at the head table with leo and your father, watching with a careful eye as your brother cuts up his food. he’s only just mastered the art of eating his food without spilling half if it down his doublet, but as distracted as he is by the festivities and the prospect of seeing a dragon close up, you worry he’s at risk of making a mess of himself regardless.

so absorbed in your task you are, it takes a long moment for you to realise jacaerys has arrived. it’s only when your skin prickles with awareness that you look up from leo and catch sight of the prince winding his way across the floor to the head table, eyes fixed on you. your head tilts to the side slightly as you watch him move, graceful and controlled, through the crowd.

he’s in black and red again, just as he had been when he’d arrived. it seems your father had been right when he’d stated that jacaerys favours his mother’s house colours. you smooth your hand over the skirts of your dress, the deep wine-red of the material feeling less out of place now, before standing with your father to greet the prince.

you all exchange pleasantries quickly as the noise in the hall dims, people realising the prince has arrived. your father ushers jacaerys into the empty seat between you and your father as he raises his goblet to the hall before speaking in his booming voice.

you don’t pay attention to your father’s speech, too aware of the warmth radiating from jacaerys who stands only inches from you to focus. you risk a glance at him from the corner of your eyes only to find his dark honey eyes fixed on you, and you cannot help but smile to yourself even as you flush, turning your eyes back to the crowd.

rousing applause and cheers draw you back to the moment, and you catch yourself in time to raise your wine in toast with your father. you go to sit back down as the crowd returns to its revelries, but the soft brush of a hand on your arm halts your movement. you turn expectingly to the prince, a soft smile on your lips.

“yes, your grace?”

“would you do me the honour of a dance, my lady?”

your lips quirk into a sly smile even as you bob your head in a nod. “i suppose i did promise you one, did i not?”

“that you did, my lady, and i have thought of nothing else since.” dark honey eyes sparkle with mirth as he offers you his hand, and with a quiet giggle you take it and allow him to lead you to the dance floor.

you feel the heat of his hand on your waist like a brand even through the layers of your dress, and it makes your breath catch in your throat. you inhale deeply in an effort to steady yourself as you rest your palm on his strong shoulder, and are immediately overwhelmed by the woodsy scent of him as he claps your hand in his and begins to dance.

you start the dance in comfortable silence, both of you taking a few moments to get a feel for the other and settle into the steps, and when you feel comfortable enough you speak.

“how are you finding highgarden, prince jacaerys?”

“jace, please,” he entreats, and elaborates only when you blink at him in confusion. “my friends and family call me jace, not jacaerys. we are to be married, my lady. it would please me a great deal for my future wife to refer to me as such.”

you nod in acceptance, butterflies erupting in your stomach at his eager expression. “jace it is, then,” you say, and try not to feel the way your heart flutters at his radiant smile in response. “although you have not answered my question. how are you finding highgarden?”

he hums, twirling you as the dance requires and then pulling you closer before responding. “your father has been very hospitable, and it is certainly beautiful here. the grounds especially, though i’m afraid i’ve not had the opportunity to see much of them as yet.”

“a shame we shall have to rectify, i think.” you offer him a small smile as you press just an inch closer, finding yourself wanting to be nearer him. “perhaps i could show you the gardens on the morrow?”

“yes,” he agrees a touch too quickly, and you giggle as his cheeks turn pink. “that is to say— i should like that very much, my lady. very much indeed.”

you lapse into silence once more as the dance reaches its crescendo, and you find yourself reluctant to leave the comfort of his hands as the music pauses while the minstrels ready their next song.

jace seems to share the sentiment, it seems, as his eyes linger on your entwined hands for a long moment before returning to your face. “have i met your standards enough for another dance, then?”

you take a moment to pretend to consider it, eyes narrowing slightly as you hum. he shuffles on his feet as he waits for your response, and you find the nervous motion far too endearing.

“i suppose so,” you concede after a moment, grinning at his smugly pleased smile as he tugs you closer.

“and what about the dance after that?” he asks lightly, something cheeky in his eyes as the music starts up again and he sweeps you along the floor.

“you should not press your luck, jace,” you say imperiously, although the effect is rather ruined by the silly smile on your face as he laughs with you.

jacaerys smirks. “my lady, since meeting you, i have felt nothing but a lucky man.”

you smother a snort, shaking your head at his unrepentant expression. “you are incorrigible.” it comes out a touch exasperated and yet far too fond.

“yes,” the prince agrees readily, a sly twinkle in his eyes. “but i think you rather enjoy it.”

your startled laugh is loud, though thankfully not so loud as to be heard over the minstrels. “perhaps.”

after that, the night is lost to flirtatious banter and dance after dance in your betrothed’s arms as a seed of affection is planted deep in your heart. and when you wake in the morning after dreaming of nothing but jace’s lips and eyes and words, you can think only one thought;

gods, i am in so much trouble.

time passes in a slow trickle of syrupy summer heat.

as the days go by, you find yourself spending more and more time in jace’s company. you’re always chaperoned, of course, a household guard following at a respectful distance wherever the two of you choose to roam. you find the whole thing a touch ridiculous; jace is to be your husband. it’s hardly like spending time together alone would be a significant scandal in light of your impending marriage, but your father insists there will be no doubts about your honour before the marriage actually takes place and so ser dickon is assigned as your reluctant shadow.

the date of the wedding itself remains unset as you and jace start to know one another. your father wishes for the marriage to wait until the war is done – a last-ditch chance to keep his options open, perhaps. Or, if you are feeling generous, a way to try and keep you safe from the greens when war inevitably rages. jace’s mother wishes the marriage to happen as soon as can be arranged – a way to try and ensure further heirs with the uncertainty of war looming, you assume.

you find yourself hoping the queen’s will wins the day as time creeps on. jace becomes ever dearer to you the more you learn about him, and soon you think of your impending marriage with nothing but hope and warm desire.

because oh, how you want him. from the first moment you’d laid eyes upon him you’d been attracted to him, but the more you get to know him, the more your heart opens to him – the more you ache for him. for his mouth on yours, his fingertips on your skin, his voice in your ear. if you were a less reckless woman, a little less shameless, you’d be embarrassed of how easily you think of him in your moments apart.

but late at night when the candles burn low and you are alone in your bed, there is no shame to be found, only the wildness of your wolfs blood and liquid heat as your hand drifts between your legs and you find completion with your betrothed’s name on your lips.

beyond the desire, though, is a slow blooming affection. it feels like every time you learn something new about him or share a new experience together, another petal of tenderness unfurls in your chest. when your father had first told you about your betrothal, you’d not dared to hope for more than civility with your husband-to-be, but now you find yourself harbouring deep fondness on top of steadily burning desire, and you look to your future as his wife with little else but excitement.

you’re not sure if jace feels the same. you don’t doubt he desires you; his flirtation and the weight of his gaze on your form is too frequent a thing for you to think otherwise. but desire is not the same as affection, and though you hope desperately that the way he always seeks your presence whenever he steps into a room means what you want it to mean, you can’t be sure.

after a week passes, you both start to chafe at the relentless presence of ser dickon. it feels like every time you so much as think about inching closer to jacaerys, ser dickon is there with his stern glare of disapproval. and so, when one morning jace suggests taking you to meet his dragon, alone, you are quick to agree.

you leave your guard long behind at jace’s instruction; he doesn’t want vermax crowded with strangers, he explains, but you personally think he seems a little too gleeful at the idea of being alone with you for that to be sole reason behind his insistence ser dickon stays far away. you don’t say anything since you’re equally pleased to finally be spending some time with your betrothed without feeling others curious eyes on you.

your excitement starts to waver, however, as you and jace get closer to his dragon. you’ve only seen vermax from a distance before this, and though it perhaps shouldn’t the size of him startles you. he’s just so large and fierce looking, the sharp spines on his back catching your eye. the beast yawns as you slow to a stop, jace sending you a quick smile before he continues on to greet his dragon with fondness, and the glimpse into vermax’s open maw – gods, there as so many teeth – has your palms starting to sweat.

jace stands beside his dragon, murmuring soothing words in high valyrian that you don’t understand as his hand smooths along his snout. your heart races in your chest, nerves making your hands shake when faced with this great beast. you curse your reckless curiosity, your northern stubbornness that makes it impossible for you to refuse a challenge. you have no idea how jace can look so at ease, the line of his shoulders relaxed and the slightest smile on his face as he talks to his winged steed, but there he stands.

“you can come closer now.” he turns to you, brown eyes shining with excitement and, yes, a hint of challenge.

he expects you to back out, you think, and that realisation has you straightening your spine and pressing your lips together. you twist your fingers in your skirts to hide the way they tremble as you step cautiously forward, eyes darting from jace to vermax and back. when you’re within touching distance of the velaryon prince, he reaches for your hand. the shock of his bare skin against yours arrests you for a moment, the slide of calloused fingers around your wrist startling in how easily it sparks desire in you.

you’re so distracted by the feel of him that you don’t realise until it’s too late that jace has tugged you closer, guiding your hand until it’s pressed to vermax’s scales, and then you’re too busy being surprised by how soft they feel to be annoyed that he’s so easily coaxed you into this position.

you still as the dragon rumbles, swallowing thickly as your fingers twitch against green scales. he blinks lazily at you, an alien intellect gleaming there as he seems to consider you for a long moment, and as you blink back at him some of the fear in your chest shakes loose.

because this is not just some beast, you realise. this is fire and blood and magic made flesh. there is life and intelligence in vermax’s eyes, not one you recognise but one you immediately respect. being this close to the dragon is a heady rush of awe and adrenaline; the knowledge that vermax could so easily harm you at any moment but is choosing not to because he trusts his rider. it’s staggering and wonderful and beside you jace is beaming, eyes shining with happiness at seeing you greet his draconic companion, and you are helplessly, hopelessly, wholly overwhelmed by your affection, your desire, by jace.

you kiss him.

it’s barely a kiss, more a breathless press of your mouth against his, and he startles at the sensation even as his arm loops around your waist. you break apart for the barest moment, nose sliding against his as you tilt your head, and jacaerys sighs out your name with heavy relief before he captures your mouth once more.

you’ve been kissed before, so you know the mechanics of it, but it’s never been like this. his lips move smoothly against yours as his hand flexes on your waist, drawing you closer until your chest is pressed against his. your hand tangles in his hair, fingers twisting in the soft curls and he moans with it, hand dragging up your back to cradle the back of your head tenderly as his tongue sweeps over your lips.

the gentle pressure of it has you gasping and he takes the opportunity immediately, tongue sliding against yours as heat pools in your core. your thoughts tumble wildly, incoherent as you can think of nothing but of how desperately you want more. the taste – the smell – the feel of him is drowning everything out that isn’t jace and you cannot resist it, do not even want to.

you want to kiss him forever, want his hand in your hair and his tongue in your mouth for always. you think he might even let you with how relentless he is, barely giving you a moments pause to catch your breath before consuming you in another desperate kiss.

you finally part only when vermax grumbles, cheeks blazing with heat as you step out of jace’s arms. jace murmurs lowly to his dragon in valyrian, and he nudges his great snout against jace’s shoulder in response before stepping away and curling down into the long grass to sleep. you take the moment to properly catch your breath again, hand pressing to your heaving chest in an effort to soothe your racing heart.

when you peek up at jace from beneath your lashes, you flush deeply at the sight of him. his curls are a mess, his lips swollen and cheeks pink beneath his tan. he looks almost debauched, and it sends a rush of desire through you. you suddenly can think of nothing other than him looking like this only flusher and skin glistening with sweat and in your bed.

the thought startles you into dropping your gaze to your feet, and you shuffle uncertainly. you feel – unsettled. you don’t think there’s anything wrong with sharing a kiss with your betrothed, and yet something like guilt curdles in your stomach as you worry at your bottom lip. you had kissed him. for all that he’d kissed you back, you worry that now he will think differently of you. think worse of you.

a knuckle tucks under your chin, then, lifting your face so that you meet jace’s eyes. you feel small and strangely vulnerable in the aftermath of your kiss, like you have somehow shown him something you never intended to, and the urge to shy away remains. but you are not a winter rose for nothing and so you tuck the doubt away as jace runs his thumb soothingly along the line of your jaw.

“i have been thinking of doing that since the moment you first smiled at me,” he confesses, a hint of shyness in the quirk of his lips even as he stares steadily into your eyes.

“oh.” you blink at him once in surprise, the uneasiness in you finally settling at the fondness in his gaze. “oh. that’s— good.” you curse yourself for your lack of wit in this moment as jace snickers. “i-i mean, i’m glad that it was not… unwelcome.”

your betrothed looks at you with deep affection, then, cupping your cheek and ducking down to press a fleeting, butterfly-soft kiss to your mouth before reluctantly parting from you. “it was most welcome, my lady. most welcome, indeed.” his eyes sparkle with mirth. “i find myself looking forward to the next time you greet vermax, if this is the kind of response such a thing garners.”

“jace!” you narrow your eyes at him in pretend annoyance, even as you smother a giggle with your fingers. “you should not expect me to indulge in such desires again, then, if you persist in being so smug about it.”

his laugh warms you as the two of you fall into easy banter, leaving vermax to his rest and returning to the ever-watchful ser dickon, and all the while all you can think of is how much you cannot wait to kiss him again.

as the air cools with the dying light of day, you lead jace to the gardens.

in the week since your first kiss, jace has oft tugged you into shadowy corners for more kisses any chance he’s had. his desire for you is matched only by your own for him, and as your confidence in your mutual attraction has grown, you have been equally as likely to pull him into a dark alcove to trade sweet words and sweet kisses in secret.

it’s thrilling and exciting and wonderful, but as the week passes you find a growing doubt whispering in the back of your mind.

while you cannot doubt jace desires you, not when he is so relentless in chasing after your smiling mouth, neither of you breathe a word of any feeling between you beyond attraction. perhaps it is reckless of you, foolhardy to fall for him so quickly – but then you are your parent’s daughter, all wolfs blood and deep roots, and you know no other way of being than this.

so you take him to the gardens as the moon rises in the sky, sneak past the night guards and out into the fresh air. you guide him through the blooming flowers and swaying trees, stopping along the while when the fancy takes one of you to stop and examine an interesting bloom or inhale a sweet scent. at least three times he stops you to slot his mouth against yours, to swallow your breathless giggling with feverish kisses, and each time he does it takes longer and longer for you to disentangle yourselves from each other.

eventually, with swollen lips and mussed hair, the two of you reach the winter roses. your effervescent mood becomes sombre as the moon shines on the blue flowers, turning the petals almost silver, and jace seems to recognise the change in atmosphere, a seriousness overtaking him as he watches you approach the flowers.

“my mother planted the first of these roses,” you tell jace as you kneel at the edge of the flowerbed, uncaring of the risk of dirt on your dress as you brush fingers over the pale blue petals tenderly. “winter roses, they are, from the north. from winterfell. she was born a stark, you see, and when she was betrothed to my father the only thing she asked was to be able to bring a few blooms from the glass gardens. she used to call me her little winter rose when i was a child, and she would bring me here and show me how to tend to them.”

jace kneels beside you, glancing at the side of your face before turning to look curiously at the blue flowers. “they’re beautiful,” he tells you sincerely.

“i’ve always thought so, too,” you agree almost absently, stroking the petals in an effort to calm your racing heart. “everyone told my mother she’d never be able to get them to grow so far south. they’re very rare, you see, and need very particular conditions.” your lips quirk up into a fond smile. “but my mother, for all that she became a tyrell, was always a stark at heart. stubborn, you know. and now look at them, thriving.”

you gesture out at the carefully tended rows of roses. “nobody else comes here, now, other than the gardeners and me. i think… i think my father finds it too hard, being here. it makes him miss her too much. so i come here when i need to be alone. or when i wish to be reminded of her. it's the one place in the world where i feel i can be wholly myself, without any pretence or worry.”

jace’s gaze is fixed on you, now, eyes almost black in the faint moonlight as understanding dawns on him. “thank you for bringing me here.”

you nod once, climbing back to your feet, and jace follows you. he watches you so intently, like he’s afraid that you might disappear if he dares to look away. you feel a little like you might, feel tenuous and vulnerable and a breath away from cracking your chest open.

“i’ve never brought anyone else here,” you confess quietly, flexing your fingers with nerves as jace’s lips part in surprise. “i wished… i wished to share this with you. to share who i am, myself, with you, i suppose.” you laugh a little self-deprecatingly. “however pretentious that sounds.”

“it doesn’t,” jace denies immediately. you sense he wants to say more, but he seems to understand that you’re building to saying something yourself, and so he stays quiet, expression earnest and open and fond as he gazes down at you.

“i know it’s perhaps too soon – we have only known each other a few weeks. but i… when i first found out we were betrothed, i was so scared. i worried you would be some arrogant princeling, and i dared not hope for anything more than civility between us. i’ve always known i would not marry for love, but i did not ever consider i would marry a man i had never met.”

you pause for long enough to suck in a breath, feeling a little like the floodgates have opened and you simply can’t stop speaking, can’t stop the feeling pouring freely from you. “and then i met you, and you were so unlike anything i’d expected. i know we still have so much more to learn about each other, and i know that things are— complicated, with the war, and that our marriage may be a ways off yet, but still— i find myself feeling for you, and i cannot hide it anymore. i don’t wish to hide it from you anymore.”

you let the open affection in his face buoy you as you steel yourself, pressing your shoulders back in a mimicry of confidence. “i wanted to show you this part of me, this place, because i….” you hesitate for a breathless moment, biting your lip, before gathering every scrap of courage you possess and diving in headfirst. “i am falling in love with you, jacaerys.”

you inhale the sweet scent of the pale blue petals deeply, let the familiar scent soothe you as jace stares at you with wide eyes. the winter roses are something that, until now, have been so uniquely yours. as you’d told jace, none other than you and the gardeners comes to this corner of the gardens now. the staff that tend so carefully to the flowers know to leave you well enough alone if they stumble across you, skirts splayed on the ground and fingers diligently caring for the roses. you’ve never even brought your sweet little brother, though you can admit that’s for practicality as much as anything else – his childish energy is a bit too boisterous for these delicate blooms.

bringing jace here, bringing him here to confess the deepening affection you harbour for him, feels raw. feels like you’re tearing your heart out of your chest and offering it up to him for perusal, hands bloody and soul bare. feels like saying ‘this is all that i am and all that i have been and all i will ever be and i hope, i hope, i hope it’s enough.’

jace finally, finally speaks, sighs your name, soft and sweet and tender, and hope blooms in your chest.

“oh, my sweet lady,” he murmurs, crowding into your space as he cups your cheek, and the smell of woodsmoke and dragon and jace floods your senses. “i am falling so unbelievably in love with you. only, it does not feel so much like falling as it is like choosing it, like walking into love with you with my eyes wide open and seeing nothing but you.”

it's almost unbearable, the blazing heat of his gaze as he presses his forehead against yours, and it makes you tremble as your hands clutch as his elbows in an effort to ground yourself to this moment, to him. “our betrothal was decided for us without care or consideration for our own desires,” he says, lips brushing against your own with every whispered word. “i know that as well as you, but i need you to know that if i had the choice i would choose this. i would choose you, your stubborn heart, your fierce spirit, your gracious soul.”

his hand slides from your cheek to your hair, holds you so tenderly like you are something precious, and it steals your breath from your lungs as you revel in his unbridled affection. “i care not when we marry, if we marry, in truth, because in my heart you are already mine just as i am already yours.”

he kisses you, then, a desperate and greedy thing, as if he can no longer restrain himself from devouring you whole. and you are just as needy, hands fisting in his doublet as you press yourself against him and somehow finding yourself wishing to be closer still. the world narrows down to him and him only; his mouth, his hands, his hair. you can think of nothing else, and do not wish to, because in this moment you are wholly yourself and he is wholly himself and it’s enough, it’s wonderful and delicate and it’s enough.

and, there beneath the moonlight and amongst the winter roses, deep and enduring affection, the kind of love the bards sing songs about, takes root.

taglist; @eldrith

#jacaerys velaryon x reader #jacaerys targaryen x reader #jace x reader #hotd fanfic #jacaerys velaryon imagine #jacaerys vaaryon fanfic #house of the dragon fanfic #jacaerys targaryen #jacaerys velaryon #jacaerys x reader #jacaerys targaryen fanfic #jacaerys targaryen imagine #my writing

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bunnybubae · 2 months

Text

☔This and more

Pairing: Jeon Jungkook x Reader

Genre: One Shot - Established Relationship - Slice of Life - Fluff - Smutty Smut

Summary: Your weekend at the beach seems to be completely ruined, but luckily, your boyfriend Jeon Jungkook is ready to change everything.

Warnings: A delicious lunch and a drink at home, they call each other bubi and baby, Bf&Gf shenanigans,✨surprises✨, overall a tooth rotting piece of fluff served with a side of hot steamy smut *wink wink*, the end ❤️

Smut Warnings: Lots of steamy kisses, teasing, love bites, actual bites, dirty talking, worshiping, fingering, oral (F receiving), brief blowjob, rough sex, unprotected sex (she takes the pill), cum on breasts, love making 💓, creampie

Wc: 5.6k

A/N: Hiii!🫣I know I should be working on the Red Light series, I promise it's wip and will come to life sooner or later, but I miss my boyfriend who's traveling for work and the weather is shit over here... I had this idea in my docs and I just felt inspired to finally write it. I hope you like it! 🥺 - Joy 🐰

The sun is scorching and the sky is always clear. People wear light clothes and have fun outside. This is summer, right?

Wrong.

Not this weekend at least, since the weather forecast predicted heavy rain until Sunday.

This weekend, in which you had plans with your boyfriend and your friends to spend it at the beach, with tents, lots of food and beach games. Everything ruined, since the first thunder that rumbled.

You wouldn't have been so upset about it if it weren't for the fact that work has been a living hell lately and that you really were looking forward to this outdoor weekend. Even if it was only for a few days, you really wanted to regenerate and disconnect from everything work related.

The sky is so gray, almost black, like your mood right now.

It's Saturday morning and usually, you and Jungkook leave shortly after breakfast to go grocery shopping, when, presumably, there are less people and it is easier to find what you need for the week. As if the bad weather wasn't badding enough, something seems to have hurt your boyfriend, who reluctantly told you that he can't come with you.

You sigh deeply, it couldn't go worse, you think, but maybe it's just your bad mood's fault for these thoughts.

You worry about Jungkook as you look for a spot in the supermarket parking lot. You text him once you find one, asking if he needs medicine or anything else for his stomachache, but he reassures you shortly after, replying that some lactic ferments will do the job.

You continue to stare at his response on the screen thoughtfully, maybe last night's fried chicken was too spicy?

Anyway, the temperature has dropped a lot because of the weather. You put on one of Jungkook's sweatshirts and get ready by putting the hood on before going out to reach the supermarket.

You spend about a couple of hours inside, looking for everything you had on your list.

As you’re about to reach the checkout, with a full cart and the only desire to go home, your phone rings.

It’s a text from Jungkook.

Bubi ❤️: “Bubi could you please buy some fresh mint and lemons while u'r out?”

You check his request a second time, not too sure you understand.

You stop in your tracks, frowning as you type a response.

You: “What do you need them for?”

You watch the chat and his name as it appears and disappears shortly after, waiting for his response, which comes a few moments later.

Bubi❤️: “I read somewhere that making tea with mint and lemon helps calm a stomach ache and I wanna try.”

You're not too convinced but It makes sense, if you think about it.

You reply that you'll get mint and lemons and that you'll go to the pharmacy before you head back home.

It’s almost lunchtime when you park the car in front of the apartment complex where you live.

The rain shows no signs of ceasing, continuing to pound on the windshield of the car.

When you’re about to get out to grab the groceries from the trunk, you see your boyfriend come out of the front door of the building and reach to your car door with a little jog.

He’s holding an open umbrella in his hand and when he opens the car door to let you out, he smiles widely.

“What are you doing out here?!”

“Let’s carry everything to the elevator together,”

And with that, he leaves a tender kiss on your forehead, a little damp from the rain.

You had forgotten your umbrella at home, despite his warnings. Too caught up in the greyness of your mood, evidently.

Once you have emptied your trunk and reached the elevator with the grocery bags in hand, you sigh loudly. A little tired from the weight of the bags and a little guilty for your state of mind.

He's always so helping and sweet and you have been quite intractable since yesterday. You feel the need to apologize to him.

Jungkook looks at you in silence, a slight smile on his lips as he plays with the piercing of his lip with his tongue.

"I'm sorry, bubi..." You break the silence, taking him by surprise.

"Mh? For what?"

You watch him as you explain why you really needed this weekend away to rest and relax a bit.

Jungkook nods, listening to you until your elevator ride stops at your floor.

"I know baby, don't worry."

The elevator's doors slide open.

It seems he wants to say something else, but he picks up the bags instead and starts to walk towards the front door of your apartment.

You follow him with the bags in your hand, feeling a little lighter and determined not to ruin this weekend any further.

Jungkook opens the door, gets rid of his shoes in the blink of an eye, leaving them near the shoe rack before running towards the kitchen. You don't understand what's gotten into him all of a sudden and when you enter, you put the bags down next to you to take off your shoes and tidy up his too.

When Jungkook returns a few moments later, he picks up your discarded bags too and rushes into the kitchen with them.

"What are you doing?"

You know very well that your boyfriend has these energetic outbursts from time to time, like the good golden retriever boyfriend he is.

He doesn't answer, instead you see him come back towards you, slightly out of breath.

“Ook, so,” He begins, catching his breath.

“I know this weekend at the beach meant a lot to you, especially after spending the last 3 months working non-stop,”

His hands find yours and squeeze gently as he guides you through the small hallway of your entryway.

“And I know how much you need this, so,” He pauses, making you stop your tracks right in front of him as well.

“I’m sorry I made you go grocery shopping alone with this weather.”

He moves aside, allowing you to see what he was trying to hide behind his back.

The couch has been moved against the wall, the big carpet is adorned with countless children's toys, the classic ones for digging or making shapes in the sand and you notice an inflatable ball and some beach towels hidden under a beach umbrella.

The living room didn't seem that big, yet everything seems to fit in effortlessly.

You don't know what to say exactly, you observe everything with wide eyes and open mouth as Jungkook continues his speech.

"I know it's not the same thing, but-" You don't even give him time to finish the sentence, that your lips crash against his, your hands holding his face still as you kiss his mouth softly.

Initially surprised, Jungkook gives in in a split second, wrapping his arms around your small figure.

You let him hold you as a few tears threaten to escape your eyes.

You part from his lips just for a moment.

"So you didn't have diarrhea," And with that, you both burst into laughter in each other's arms as a small tear rolls down your face for the gratitude.

You are truly touched by the effort he put into it, by the love that hides such a gesture.

The laughter stops and your eyes lock. Jungkook caresses your cheek, wiping away that small, solitary tear.

"Thank you, babe..." Your tone is sweet and full of love and gratitude for him.

"This and more for you,"

He grabs one of your hands that are still holding his face and brings it to his lips, he kisses your knuckles with such delicacy before he moves away from you.

"Anyway, you don't look like you're dressed for the beach, why don't you go change while I sort out the groceries?"

You look down at yourself and giggle, even though it's not that hot, the idea of indulging in this little indoor beach is thrilling, you nod, telling him he's right, then you turn around, heading to your bedroom.

"No! Wait!"

Jungkook suddenly exclaims, making you stop in your tracks.

"I moved the bag you had packed to the bathroom, so you can change right there!"

"Oh okay, I'll take the chance to take a quick shower, then."

You reach the bathroom, getting ready to shower before you could finally wear your new bikini.

During your shower you can't help but smile at the idea that you're about to spend some time at the beach, without the beach, and the sun, and the sea. It's amusing.

Once cleaned and smelling nice, you put on your lilac bikini and its matching beach dress, fix your hair a bit and go back to the living room.

You don't remember seeing the TV on when you came in, but the sound of the waves envelopes you immediately.

On the TV, a high definition video of the waves lapping the beach repeats over and over and it's yet another detail that makes you smile. Jungkook has really thought of everything.

He's not in the living room, though.

You walk towards the kitchen, smelling something nice as you near the door. When you enter, you find your shirtless sexy boyfriend in front of the stove as he cooks something.

"Damn, that smells good," The kitchen is filled with the smell of fresh fish and lemon, it's so mouth-watering.

"That's what you needed the lemon for!"

You giggle as you approach him from behind, wrapping your arms around his hips and leaving a light kiss on his shoulder as you watch his movements.

"I just watched a tutorial, I hope it turns out good."

He moves in your arms, turning around so he can observe your figure.

He hums delighted by what he sees.

The swimsuit hugs your curves perfectly and the beach dress semi-transparent fabric allows Jungkook to admire and go wild in his mind, with that see-through effect that makes him crazy.

You know exactly what's going through his mind right now. You can read it in his expression.

Despite the many years of relationship with him, the passion and attraction between you has always been strong, never faltering.

Jungkook has always worshiped your body in every possible way.

And his carnal gaze, which gently caresses your curves, is proof of that.

It's unbelievable how one single look from him is enough to make you feel like the most beautiful thing in this world.

“You like it?”

You ask innocently, spinning around so he can look at beautiful ass as well.

He hums in agreement, “It’ll look great on the floor later.”

And it’s not the phrase that makes your legs feel weak, but the tone of his voice. Warm and provocative, just the way you like it.

He steals a kiss that’s way too innocent to justify the burning sensation in your belly, before turning his attention back to the stove.

“You should cook shirtless more often,”

You try to speak, trying to sound unaffected, while your hands nonchalantly caress his pecs from behind, going down to his abs.

He chuckles softly, perfectly knowing what you're up to.

You love every single detail of his body. You swear you know by heart every groove and bump and yet the intensity of your yearning surprises you every time.

You sigh, trapping your lip between your teeth, unable to stop your hands from free roaming on his soft skin.

He is so addicting.

"Y/N.." Your name leaves his lips accompanied by a deep breath.

Your hands have the same effect that his skin has on you.

"What?"

You ask, not missing the contractions of his muscles under your touch when your hands tease his belly, just above the waistband of his swimsuit.

Jungkook turns off the stove and pushes the food away.

Then he turns around, and his face is now a few inches from yours.

In one quick and agile movement, he picks you up, letting your legs circle his bare waist.

A deep breath escapes your mouth as his chest touches yours and a second later you're sitting on the countertop, its coldness briefly soothing your heat.

"You can't do that while I'm cooking,"

He lets out, then he urgently dives forward, peppering the thin skin of your neck with languid kisses..

You almost moan at the touch.

"Why not,"

You ask, hoping your voice doesn't sound too desperate right now.

"Cause I'd have to fuck you hard and quick, right here on this countertop,"

You tilt your head backwards, allowing him to do as he pleases with your neck.

"And,"

He pauses, licking a long, slow stripe, from your collarbone to the skin below your earlobe.

"Even tho I know how much you love to be fucked like that,"

He softly kisses your jawline, then whispers right to your ear and your insides turn into boiling lava.

"I want to take my time with you, I want to taste you and savor every drop of your juice when I make you come."

His hands are nowhere on your body, you're only trapped between his arms that keep his weight slightly lean on you. And yet, your skin feels so hot, like his voice and words are washing the last bit of sanity away, leaving goosebumps all over you.

You gulp, unable to speak as you try to calm your breathing.

You love this man, you think you never stopped crushing over him, you're a total mess right now, by only his words and kisses on the neck.

"Fuck baby.."

You manage to say, even though your voice sounds strained.

"Be patient, yeah?"

And just like that, the magic is over.

He frees you, leaving your body hot and bothered just like that.

You whine a little, a sound that makes him chuckle darkly, probably proud of the effect he still has on you.

You're a tad bit annoyed, you're not gonna lie, but the excitement for what's to come prevails.

After having lunch with some delicious lemony fish, you and Jungkook decide to enjoy some relaxation lying on the beach towels placed on the floor in front of the TV. The mint cocktails you made earlier rest next to you, while some music plays casually from your phone.

You have to admit that the whole vibe is working very well, you don't even miss the sand and the smell of saltiness in the air. Everything feels just right, with the man you love by your side.

The apartment isn't that big, but everything Jungkook has prepared for the theme seems to fit perfectly, without being too bulky.

You take a moment to observe your surroundings, while sipping your drink every now and then.

You notice that there is enough space between the towels and the television, so you decide to grab the Nintendo Switch from its dock, and place it in front of you.

"Wanna play?"

Jungkook, who seems far too relaxed on his towel, is drawn in by your playful tone, he smiles nodding before grabbing a pair of joycons.

"What do you wanna play?"

You think for a moment, as you scroll through the games you have, undecided between Just Dance, volleyball, which might be the most suitable for the beach mood, or WarioWare, which as stupid as it is, never fails to make you laugh.

"We could play some volleyball to begin with, what do you say?"

"I'm down,"

You make some space and strap your joy con, just to be sure you don't crash anything while playing.

The games go smoothly and match after match and sip after sip of your drinks, you grow dizzier.

By the time you start playing Wario Ware, you both are a laughing mess, seeing your boyfriend copy those funny poses is the highlight of the day.

Your cheeks are hurting from the laugh and you don't even know what time it is while the rain keeps pouring outside.

The sound of sporadic thunder is a soft reminder that what is going on outside, doesn't bother you at all.

Especially now, embraced in your boyfriend's arms, skin to skin, as the center of your living room becomes the center of your world.

He kisses you, ever so gently, as his mouth moves with yours in a dance they know oh so well.

You bet his lips shared some secrets with yours as when you part from each other for a moment, you both smile fondly. As if no words are needed.

The way he's looking at you makes you feel so lucky.

You feel so precious when he touches you, so cherished.

His hands are so tender and attentive, he outlines your sides, pushing his body to yours as if it was possible to feel you even closer.

The game is long forgotten as you share another kiss, less innocent than the previous one.

Your hands bravely caress his shoulders and nape before intertwining with some soft locks.

Some music is still playing from your phone, thrown somewhere on the carpet when suddenly, As Long As You Love Me by Justin Bieber starts playing.

A pretty old song, but you remember you saved the acoustic version a long time ago, when you two weren't even a thing.

It couldn't be more apt for this moment in time, you think.

Your smile breaks the kiss and even though you feel your head a little heavy from the alcohol, you start singing.

He watches you fondly, swinging with you in his arms to the rhythm as he begins to sing the song with you.

His voice is heaven, you always told him that and he likes to sing for you. Although the shower or the car are his favorite stages most of the time.

You keep singing your heart out, pouring all your love in the lyrics as your gaze gets lost in his.

You've always been the sensitive type, especially in this kind of situation.

Your boyfriend seems as affected as you, though.

His gaze is glimmering and his embrace is tighter than before.

The song slowly but surely comes toward its end when Jungkook softly leans forward, whispering the last phrase right on your lips.

Your heart feels like it's about to burst in your chest and a moment later you're kissing him, like your life depends on it.

He lets you kiss him, lets you taste his tongue and maybe it's the alcohol, maybe the whole vibe, but you end up sprawled on the beach towels, kissing each other's brains out.

The beach umbrella, placed open on the ground for obvious reasons, offers some sort of shield from the artificial light of the lamp. The light filters through the colored material, leaving a soft hue of colors on your bodies.

You don't know where your beach dress has been thrown, the only thing in your mind right now, is your boyfriend's kisses.

He prints wet kisses all over your body and you feel like you're burning.

You breathe heavily, concentrating on the sensations of his lips on your abdomen.

"So fucking pretty,"

He states, seemingly out of breath. You shiver in pleasure as your heart skips a beat.

His hands reach your bikini bottom and you almost moan shamelessly as he asks,

"Are you already wet for me, baby?"

Then he pushes your bikini aside, not waiting for your answers, wanting to find out himself.

"Fuck, yes"

It's the only phrase that leaves your gaping mouth as he swipes his fingers between your legs.

You can feel the stickiness of your bikini and his breath right in front of your core.

"Want me to make you even wetter?

A soft yes leaves your lips, barely audible.

"Speak up, baby,"

It's a lewd scene, your legs are wide open in front of him and Jungkook is palming himself with his free hand. His swimming trunks are an uncomfortable obstacle but it's something he'll deal with later.

His attention is only focused on you right now.

"Kook-"

You moan as his wet fingers circle your clit.

"I want your tongue," you confess "Make me come on your tongue,"

You breathe out as your hands move over your tits, sliding under the fabric of your bikini top.

"Fuck, I love when you talk to me like that,"

He groans, and a moment later, he is giving in, licking your folds, sucking your clit, just as you like it. He knows it's going to make you a moaning mess before him.

He wasn't lying before, he is taking his sweet time savoring you, fucking you slowly with his tongue, then circling your clit and sucking on it every now and then.

When your body reacts at the waves of pleasure his motions are providing, he laughs darkly, the vibration of it a sweet addition to your pleasure.

Your body trembles, your orgasm building up at every french kiss he gives your pussy and you think you're going insane.

Your moans are louder, turning to sweet little whine when you know you're about to reach your high.

"I'm close, fuck, don't stop,"

As if he needed you to tell him not to stop.

Jungkook is quick to react, pushing with ease his middle and ring finger inside you.

The new stimulation makes you cry out in pleasure and he is so turned on by your sounds, he thinks he might bust in his swimming suit just with that.

"Love this pussy,"

He says, voice deep and steady.

"Can't wait to fuck you just right,"

And just like that, the built up tension in your belly snaps and a strong orgasm washes over you.

His hands, his words, the picture of his pretty cock slamming into your pussy, sends you over the edge.

You let out a moan that sounds like his name and your hands move from your tits to brush his hair.

You're still trembling from your orgasm when you open your eyes, not sure when you closed them and all you see is your boyfriend, hair disheveled, sucking on his wet fingers like a lollipop.

His dark gaze meets your dazed eyes and he smiles, way too innocently considering the lustful motions of his tongue.

"God," you blurt out, trying to regain a stable breathing, "Why are you still wearing that?"

You point at his bottom half, moving a second later to help him freed himself from the useless piece of clothing.

His dick springs free, hungry and leaking some precum.

You hum, licking your lips as if you were a starved woman, ready to devour her meal.

When you grab the base of his thick member and move to lick it, Jungkook surprisingly blocks your hand gently.

You frown, looking up mid motion, puzzled.

"I won't be able to hold back much longer if you suck me,"

His voice is almost apologetic and you tenderly smile, finding his confession hot and endearing at the same time.

"Just a little?"

You put up your best pleading eyes, softly adding, "Please?"

Jungkook's eyes roll back as he bites his lip and a deep breath leaves through his nostrils.

You know he likes when you beg for it.

While you scream in pleasure or with big innocent eyes, he just loves when you ask nicely, like a good girl.

He can't resist you.

He could never resist those pretty eyes of yours.

He shifts in his place, allowing you to get on your knees before grabbing your chin, ever so gently.

"Be a good girl then and open wide."

You smile in content, doing just as he asked, opening your mouth as wide as you can and sticking out your tongue.

When you look up at him, Jungkook slowly puts his fingers inside your mouth, and your faint taste still lingers in them.

You suck and lick on them for a second, then when he pulls them out, he smears your saliva along his sensitive dick.

His breaths are heavy and when he slams it a couple of times on your tongue he groans.

That's when he loses it a little.

He grabs your jaw, helping you tilt your head at the right angle, then pushes the tip inside.

You do your best by swirling your tongue around the salty tip, closing your lips around it just enough for him to feel a little pressure.

By the time you pop your lips open, he pushes a little more in, enough to stuff your mouth.

You instinctively bob your head, trying to get more of him inside and when a moan escapes his throat, you know he will stop you soon.

You take the opportunity to tease him a little, grabbing at his butt and fondling the soft skin of it as he sloppily thrusts.

Jungkook's sounds are animalistic, his thrusts are steady but right before he pulls out completely, he gives one last thrust that almost hits the back of your throat.

You gasp for air as he gently pushes you back down on the beach towel.

He swiftly takes your bikini away, both the bottom and the top, and latches his plumb lips to one of your breasts.

The coldness of his piercing mixed with his hot breath is a nice contrast for your perked up nipples.

You hiss when he bites the sensitive nub, but he quickly eases the pain away by kissing and lapping at the abused skin.

"Kook-"

A broken moan leaves your throat when he bites you again, this time on the delicate meat of your breast. It's softer than before, but you feel hyper responsive right now.

"Can I come here?"

He whispers, leaving a trail of wet kisses all over your chest.

You giggle, feeling a little ticklish when his fingers travel down your sides.

"Why are you asking?" you pull him closer till his cock is leaning between your folds.

The contact sends shivers down to your core and you buck your hips almost automatically.

"You know I love it, Kook"

He just needed to hear you say that aloud, that's clear when pushes up a little, aligning the tip of his member with your entrance.

"You love it, huh? Thought you loved it more inside you tho,"

He pushes in, inch by inch as he finishes his phrase.

You gasp at the sweet stretch, feeling breathless as he bottoms up.

"I love it down my throat too,"

That makes him go feral.

It's all you're able to say before he props up on his elbow, one hand behind your shoulder, the other clasped around your hip to keep you there as he fucks you at a ruthless pace.

You're fucking on the floor, on a beach towel, shielded by a beach umbrella with Wario Ware long forgotten on the tv and some music shuffling from your phone, meanwhile outside it's pouring and thundering since this morning.

It might seem a messy situation, but everything feels at his place.. Nothing is missing here.

Every thrust elicits soft moans from you. He promptly kisses you, and as you make out you wrap your arms around him, trying to pull him closer and closer.

That allows him to jack hammer into you with measured force.

The squelching sounds are filling the room, followed by his throaty moans and yours.

You're about to come once again, the pressure on your stomach well fed by the way his cock is hitting on the right spot inside you.

"Kook," you cry out, "I'm about to-"

"Me too baby," he pecks your lips before he adds, "Let me feel you come all over my cock,"

His hips slap against yours impossibly fast, just as fast as your orgasm approaches.

Your body stiffens and after a few seconds there it is, the sweet release, the white pleasure that washes over you.

You cry out his name repeatedly, till your cry subside to a moan and you feel his thrusts getting sloppier and erratic.

"Fuck, yes, I'm coming too,"

And he pulls out quickly, kneeling between your trembling legs before he pumps his fist around his drenched dick a few times before hot spurts of his cum lands on your body.

He moans shamelessly and you love when he gets all vocal, it turns you on even though you feel totally devastated right now.

He covers your breasts in sticky white and some of it lands on your chin too.

You don't mind, not when he looks so blissed and fucked out.

When he empties his load completely, he watches you, admiring his masterpiece and offering you a hand.

He chuckles breathlessly and pecks your lips as he pulls you up.

"Let's take a shower, shall we?"

You nod, not sure if you're able to speak right.

You make sure to turn off the tv and the music on your phone before you head straight to the bathroom.

Jungkook offers to wash you up first and you let him do it.

It's obviously not the first time you shower together, but it doesn't happen that often either.

You wash up each other, giggling and chatting like he was not balls deep inside you just moments ago.

By the time you finish your shower and dry up, it's dinner time.

You enjoy your evening eating the food you thoroughly prepared beforehand right on the floor, because yes, Jungkook refused to put away the beach towels saying that "Our beach experience is not over yet".

Even though you shake your head in defeat, you chuckle, amused by his determination.

The evening went by in total relaxation, you're curled up on your boyfriend's side as another episode of Demon's Slayer flashes on the tv screen. The air is chilly right now and you feel the fatigue of the day get the better of you.

"Wanna go to bed after this episode?"

He asks, noticing your breathing is getting heavier.

You fell asleep a couple of times for a few minutes, trying to keep track of what you're watching when you woke up, but it's kind of frustrating.

You hum in agreement, stretching your back a little.

When the episode comes to its end, Jungkook stands up from the ground and leaves the living room. You walk up to the window, curious to see the state of the world outside.

Perhaps you hoped to see a clear sky, but unfortunately you were disappointed.

It's still raining, though it's not pouring like this afternoon. Droplets of water are slamming on the glass in a soft lullaby.

It's soothing somehow and you take a moment to take in the different effect the rainy weather has on you right now, compared to this morning.

Strong arms circle your waist and a soft peck on your head draws your attention away from the window.

"There's another surprise for you,"

He whispers right in your ear before you turn around to look into his eyes.

Your arms find their place around his neck and you look at him, intrigued.

"Another one?"

He grins at your curiosity, pulling you towards the bedroom just a moment later.

When you enter the room, you're welcomed by his favorite galaxy lamp while it projects purple and blue hue up on the roof.

Small green dots serve as little stars, scattered all around as they are slow dancing and a camping tent about the size of the bed is placed on top of it.

You're shocked, unable to speak as emotions get stuck in your throat, you inspect the room with teary eyes, touched by all his effort to make this weekend just perfect.

"Do you like it?"

He tentatively asks, watching your reaction by the frame of the door.

When you turn around you quickly reach out to him, hugging him so tight you think you might break his spine.

You softly sob on his chest as he returns the hug, kissing the top of your head affectionately and when you finally look up at him with a wide smile, Jungkook breaks in the softest laugh you have ever heard from him.

"It's perfect," you state, "You are perfect,"

Jungkook's gaze fills with all the love he has for you, a gaze that doesn't need words and after he dried away your salty tears, you kiss him passionately.

Nothing could ever compare to this moment, to this little piece of heaven he created for just the two of you, under a starry sky that belongs to you and him and no one else.

You poured all your love on every inch of his body, tasted his soft skin and marked it as yours.

He did the same to you, making sure your body was worshiped as it deserves.

That night, you made love like nothing existed outside of your camping tent, it was only you and him, becoming one as your soft moans mingled in the room.

It was gentle, like the time was no longer flowing until slowly but surely, you reached your high together, hugging each other as he came inside you.

You felt full of him, in every sense possible as he softly kissed your forehead and you whispered the sweetest I love you in the air.

You cuddled to sleep, refusing to leave your tent to go wash up and when the morning after you woke up between your boyfriend's arms, you knew another beautiful day on a sandless beach awaited.

Another day with the love of your life, in your little perfect world.

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magicdustsworld · 2 months

Text

𝐀 𝐁𝐄𝐆𝐈𝐍𝐍𝐄𝐑'𝐒 𝐆𝐔𝐈𝐃𝐄 𝐓𝐎 𝐃𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐑𝐘𝐎𝐌𝐄𝐍 𝐒𝐔𝐊𝐔𝐍𝐀 (𝟐)

𝐒𝐘𝐍𝐎𝐏𝐒𝐈𝐒: A guide on how to properly date your tattooed, big, bad boyfriend.

𝐓𝐑𝐎𝐏𝐄𝐒: Established relationship, slice of life

𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒: fluff, usage of nicknames, no mentions of y/n.

𝐄𝐏𝐈𝐒𝐎𝐃𝐄 𝟐 : 𝐒𝐏𝐄𝐍𝐃 𝐀 𝐌𝐎𝐕𝐈𝐄 𝐍𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓 𝐖𝐈𝐓𝐇 𝐇𝐈𝐌

A/N: Thanking y'all so much for all the love in episode 1, so here episode 2.

Divider credits: @cafekitsune

𝐄𝐏𝐈𝐒𝐎𝐃𝐄 𝟏 (optional)

Both of you stare at the blank TV screen.

Then, from his peripheral he sees your eyes flicker to him.

You chew on your lips, "Well..."

"What?"

"I can't choose!" The exasperate confession follows a mild frown to settle on your brows. Sukuna slightly turns his face to you as well. You flip the remote—missing the catch before picking it up and passing it to him. "You choose."

He glances at the remote for a second then back at you, raising an eyebrow at your out of the ordinary offer.

"I will watch whatever you choose."

As if. He rolls his eyes, "Both of us know that's not going to happen."

"I am serious," You hold up your left hand. "Whatever you choose, I will watch it.

Of course, he isn't convinced; gracing you with a incredulous scowl. One which incites a Cheshire grin from you as you jerk the remote towards him again.

He sighs heavily, reaching for the object in your hand, "Fine–"

"Except science fiction."

With fingertips only inches away from the device, he halts. Irritation pricks his forehead as he glares looks at you with lips curling into a frown.

"And action," You continue. "And any historical drama and–"

"What happened to whatever I choose?"

You pause, tipping your head up, "Exceptions need to be made."

What a brat. He grumbles under his breath, careful enough to let you hear him. Yanking the remote away from you, he turns himself to the TV—surfing through all the movies when, all of a sudden a rather devilish idea crops up in his head.

He spares you a partial glance, the very same smirk curled up on his lips which always said trouble. He hums, "We are watching horror."

In an instant, your eyebrows scrunch up, eyes widening and lips parting in disbelief. "Excuse me–"

"You're excused, sweetheart." The mocking nickname rolls off his lips, easily. In an attempt to pass you a grin, he is met with a flying cushion.

Yet, his arm goes up and the material hits the surface before falling down. This time, his grin widens, upper pair of teeth revealed as the fang like canines almost makes him seem like a demon. (Like c'mon, his reflexes are on another level)

You scowl, picking another cushion–warning him that this one wold be thrown as well. A warning to which Sukuna can only snort.

"I hate horror."

"Too bad," He muses, selecting the first film that shows up in the category. "You are watching whatever I choose."

You huff, turning to face the other way while Sukuna starts the movie. The eerie music starts accompanied by the dark background as the disposable characters navigate the terrain.

Same old shit.

Fifteen minutes into the movie and Sukuna hears some rustling on his side.

Sooner than he can comprehend, another figure—you, lean on him. Head resting on his shoulder, knees touching his and when he looks down, you are scowling at him.

"Hold me."

He raises an eyebrow, "Is that an order?"

"Yes."

He snorts under his breath. Despite the mock amusement swirling in his mind, he loops an arm around your waist and pulls you close. You release a breath of contentment, placing your head on his chest and Sukuna lets out a curse for letting the act relax his muscles.

An hour into the film and Sukuna... is unamused.

The plot is so predictable that he can guess it in his dream and the characters are so pathetic that he is tempted to spit out the snide remarks resting on the tip of his tongue. It's the snacks that forces him to stay put for the remainder and well... you.

Its impossible for him to not notice the slight tremors of your body or the soft squeak you'd let out whenever a jumpscare would come up. Shifting his attention on you, he is met with your wide eyed expression as you stare at the screen ahead, the almost empty popcorn bowl in your hand as you fiddle with the contents. So engrossed in the film that you don't even notice that he is staring.

And you were telling him that you hate it. Yet, you didn't profess any annoyance or dislike to it after the film started. Neither making the effort to leave him. Well, in case you did leave– Sukuna finds himself contemplating– In case you did leave, would he have surrendered and chosen something else? Maybe.

He reasons it's the fact that the movie night idea had been initially yours that's why he would. Nothing else. He can't bring himself to sit down and watch some mundane movie all alone. That's it.

While this reverie is playing in his head, a jumpscare comes in the scene and due to your 100% attention on the movie, you let out a light squeal. The bowl jerks in your hand, causing a few popcorn to drop on the couch and only for seconds you cling onto him a bit more.

He snickers. Now this is amusing. He doesn't register how he starts to rub absent minded circles on your back.

The end credits play and Sukuna is about to get up and stretch his limbs until... he doesn't.

Greeted by the sound of snores, Sukuna finds you to be fast asleep. Your head on his chest, one arm over his torso and the empty popcorn bowl initially in your hand, now rests on the rug.

Great. You offer to watch a movie with him, be all focused in the middle and then end up falling asleep on him. That should be vexing. But it isn't. What indeed, annoys him is just how endearing you seem right now. With the slow rise and fall of your chest and your lips parted– he doesn't know why but it infuriates him more than he'd let on.

He doesn't know what comes over him but he is reaching out to you and before he is knows it, he is pinching your cheek.

As a result, you wake up with a jerk and he instantly retracts his hand.

"Excuse me?"

He blinks and you're giving him the look.

He clears his throat, "The movie's over."

"And?"

"You were sleeping."

A scowl plasters itself on your face, "There are better ways to wake me up, you know. What were you trying to do?"

Exactly. What was he trying to do? In his defense, he doesn't know either. You were just looking so adorable and for reasons unknown, he found himself tempted to... he doesn't know what.

You are still scowling at him– waiting for him to reason– one which he doesn't have. Therefore, he only shrugs. "Don't know."

Your lips twist into a pout and you shift in your position before reaching out to him as well. He just needs to be served with the same medicine. Yet, Sukuna's fast and before you can pinch him in return, he has your wrist in his grasp. You try again with the free hand which ends up in his grasp as well.

"Oh no, you don't." He smirks, a reaction which only incites a huff from you and you try to escape from his hold. A try which proves to be futile.

"I hate you." You concede.

"You don't."

Said so, Sukuna releases your wrists but before you have the time to move away, he is sliding one arm under your knees, another behind your back as he scoops you up. You yelp and on instinct to not fall, you latch your arms around his neck.

"I do," You say, not trying to wiggle out as a strange numbness settles in your legs. "I hate you."

"No, you don't."

He still has the know-it-all smugness in him as he walks to the bedroom to show you exactly why you don't hate him.

Bonus

"Did both of them die in the end?"

"The pathetic excuse of the main guy lived."

𝐄𝐏𝐈𝐒𝐎𝐃𝐄 3

Taglist: @comeonatmebruh @o-ikawaii

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jjongswannabebae · 3 months

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Marriage of convenience (18+) < rich!jay x rich!fem!reader, hurt/comfort fic, lots of making out, kissing, arguments, angst, smut 18+, a lot of tears. note: first time writing smut- not proofread!! MDNI, please reblog >

Not that you minded, being set up with on a date on a mundane Wednesday wasn't on your checklist. Considering skipping it, you drawled the process of making small talk with some random geek who had cash.

Ugh. Being the only daughter of a rich man had its own plight.

"Jude, Can't I skip today's appointment with Mr. P?" You complain to your manager, Jude shirt for Judith. She keeps her eyes in the road, save for a glance, only opening her mouth,

"Do you even know who you're meeting?"

You nod profusely, "another rich kid with attitude," you finish, staring bored out the car window, watching the way birds fly, free of restraint. How you wished to live to like that.

Money can go far but you couldn't get freedom with said money.

"Well, hate to break it to you, this guy, "Mr. Park" is different,"

"You always say that," you drawl a whine puffing up your cheeks with air. "I'll stake some money if makes you happy"

Money? You had plenty but jude wasn't someone who'd set losing bets. Curious, you beam to accept her bet, having a spike in your mood.

Jude dropped you off at the posh cafe your date had scheduled to meet. Wondering who exactly this man was, convincing enough to get the stingy jude to bet bills.

Surely, he would be anything but disappointing.

Oh and how right you were.

He stood leaning back on the counter, decked in a neatly ironed silk shirt stretched across his defined shoulders, shirt buttoned down with his chest slightly exposed, sleek formal pants running down his legs loosely hung off his waist.

Okay, you admit he had great fashion sense but what about his face?

Sunglasses decked his perfect slicked jet hair, gaunt face with a killer jawline, brown eyes sharp and lips small yet kissable, ears pierced, vieny arms folded to his chest.

Jude won the bet the moment you locked eyes with him.

He was absolutely beautiful and you'd experienced what you thought was love at first sight.

He drew a smile and walked closer animatedly. Shit. Your feet were frozen to the ground as your lips parted with surprise. He stuck his hand out, "nice to meet you, I'm park jay" he offered, politely. Yet your mind and actions faltered and were a heartbeat late on grabbing onto his hand.

The rest was history. Married a year and a half later, nobody could predict the marriage would be this loveless and stagnant. Not that the public knew.

Jay Park. Hier to the one and only park estate, leading hotel series bringing wads of cash. Along with your own established wealth from your dad's company, which you assumed you'd be taking over soon.

But those dreams were crushed when jay came home with the news that a merger would take place, a year after your marriage.

Now all that you had to do was stay at home and look after him and the kids. But wait.

What kids? A loveless marriage was one thing but a sexless one was unheard of.

Yet intercourse was the only intimacy you shared with him. Hes perfect in every aspect yet incapable of affection, you'd deemed a year into the relationship.

Any show of affection like cuddling or spending time you'd initiate would fall flat or would be denied, or worst yet he'd never be there for you to initiate it. Work, home, sleep, eat. That's all he did and that's why it was all the worse.

He acted like you were invisible except the days he came home drunk and fucked you senseless. You'd consent to that but it felt meaningless, like a repeated one night stand yet you lived with the guy and were married to him.

So when your parents haunted you with the pressure of having children, you'd burst into tears upon your arrival home. You hated the fact you were so shallow and unlovable to the one man you swore to.

You ignored the pressure from your parents to have a child yet the tension mounted.

You and jay were to eat lunch with his parents and then came the infamous line, "I would love to see my grandchildren anytime soon," said Mrs. Park nonchalantly and you swear you saw jays left brow twitch. It hurt.

There was nothing wrong with you, or him for any matter. Just that your marriage never even felt like one to begin with.

"So soon?" Jay questioned, setting down his fork to the plate. You could his temple crease ever so slightly. You'd observed the man sitting next to you for a long time when he'd be with you was when he would sleep. You'd spend countless hours staring at his beautiful face, yearning for his attention, and even more far fetched, his love.

"it'll be two years soon, son" replied Mr. Park giving a stern glare towards his son, eyes flickering over you momentarily before they returned to his plate yet again.

Worthless. That was the look in mr parks eyes. He'd probably thought how hard it'd be to seduce his son, or rather get him into bed.

You sat wordless in the car, watching out the window as you did the time Jude dropped you off him to meet him for the first time. Jay sat beside you, facing the window as well. Rain poured heavy, matching your gloomy vibe from the happenings at lunch with the parks. Right, you were a Park.

Love at first sight was real when you met jay for the first time. Yet he never reciprocated anything you felt.

Tears welled in your eyes, threatening to spill yet you held them back with all your might. Not here, not infront of jay. Never had you cried when he was present. It was unnerving to see his expressionless face watch you cry.

Yet your thoughts only grew worse and before you knew it, a tear fled from your eye and a sob broke from your mouth. It was hard, feeling unwanted and isolated all the time. Those emotions flew out like a river, gaining the attention of your husband.

"you okay?" He spoke softly, like you'd shatter if he spoke any louder, and at that you sobbed harder till you broke down weeping in the car as the driver flicked his eyes to the back seat repeatedly, wondering what commotion was taking place.

Jay asked the driver to drop you two off at their hotel, and the tyres swerved to the right, soon infront the entrance. Jay urged you to calm down and get down the vehicle. You complied and wiped your tears away, standing there as the cold wind hit your face. Yet again you felt like crying.

Jay grabbed you by the hand and tried to haul you inside as fast as possible, but you slapped his hand away, "I'll take myself there," His eyebrow twitched and raised, leaning closer to your ear to whisper, "there're eyes on us, the paparazzi is right here so just get inside," he seethed through his teeth.

At his words you panned your head around, merely for jay to put his arms to your knees and neck and pick you up and head for the roundabout back entrance. Absolutely stunned that he lifted you up with no struggle, you watched him maneuver with your mouth slightly parted.

On the elevator to the largest suite, accessible by family, you asked to let down. "No," he replied, keeping his eyes on the doors of the elevator. You didn't protest further and cozied up to his chest. He took three strides to the door and whipped it open and peered inside.

He let you down and trapped you to the door, his forehead pressing against yours. His breathing was erratic, his eyes showed emotion. *What's wrong," he let out in between exasperated breaths.

And the tears came again.

"Everything," you quip and wiping away you erratic tears with the back of your hand, leveraging your weight in the door to stand up straighter and look him dead set in his eyes.

"Do you even know anything about me? What I like to do, what I like to eat, what's my favourite color... Do you even love the person you're married too?"

He opens his mouth devoid of swords, eyes guilty shoulders heavy of burden. "You like to dance, you like spicy food, and your favourite color is," he starts small, working his mind through all the things he knew about you, "purple?"

"blue,"

"oh."

"what was the name of the dog I had when I was younger?"

Silence.

"Bruno," you answer, disappointment filling your being as you stare the guilt stricken man facing you. "At this rate you probably never felt anything for me, let alone love." He leaned his head to the door behind you, keeping his hand to your shoulder and whispering to your ear, "do you know why I've been distant with you?"

"if what you mean by distant is ignoring my every attempt and instant of me trying to express my emotions to you in the past two years, then, no. Probably except the fact you don't like me but needed someone to fill in the position of your wife." You huff, letting your true feelings show, the pack of interaction between you two hurt you a lot more than you thought.

"Perhaps your criteria was to find someone smart but quiet, pretty but not attention seeking and lastly a nice body would be a plus point, I suppose," you finish, one hand settling on his nape and the other his back. You keep your eyes trained on his, batting them ever so often so you wouldn't cry with word you uttered.

At first, jay showed no signs of response except guilt, then his face contorted to confusion and lastly to anger. The crease on his forehead from burying his eyebrows downward as he almost glared at you with a fire lit in his eyes.

"So you think I'm using you," he says, and you nod, solely for him to sneer and pull back from your hold, stepping closer and claiming you up the door as he swung his arm round your waist and one hand to your face, tilting it upto him, and dipping his head down to your eye level. Your lips were mere centimetres apart from collision. Eyeing your lips he grazed his thumb past your lips.

"You talk like you know the whole story, darling. It's not a good habit to make assumptions," he said drawing a line down your lips, his finger slipping past making a small smacking sound

"well then what's your reasoning to leaving me devoid of affection? Before you say you sent gifts, I know your assistant picked them, the clothes he sent were chosen with little to no fashion sense, whereas you have an exceptional dressing style so don't say you bought me those items, darling." You muse replicate his fiery response with sass.

He watches you with contemplating whether to tell or not. "We were only supposed to be married for a year." He starts slow, taking in your facials, watching as your eyes widened and practically urged him to continue. "The merger wasn't going to happen, you were supposed to take over," he said calmly, knowing how much of a touchy subject this was to you, having prepared your whole life to head the company and ultimately not being able too.

"But the results shown over the one year we were meant tobe together showed immensely worthy and the merger took place, therefore nullifying our one year marriage,"

Like rains drops now fell from the sky, the sunny days his behind the clouds like your tears behind your eyelids. Jay couldn't bare to see you look so vulnerable. He felt as though he was the cause for these misunderstandings, which he was not completely but partly.

"I, I never signed any contract,"

"It wasn't meant to be signed by us, it was unanimous decision,"

"So now they want us to act like a couple? Do they even know how hurt I felt to be ignored for a year, how it felt to feel unwanted and unlovable?" A stray tear strolled down your cheeks as anger creeped up your voice. It was unfathomable to you, to be lied to by your own parents, and possibly jay too.

"Had you known we'd last for only a year?"

"...yes" he paused, waiting for the information to sink into you, hoping it wouldn't shatter you more. Your head spun in circles as you struggled to get away from him, pushing as his chest as tears streamed down your face, brushing past him to sit on the couch to relieve your dizziness.

You sat there and cried while jay watched you unwind into a tears, unsure of what to do. 'I didn't want to fall for you, because I'd have to leave eventually but I couldn't stop myself from catching feelings when I was around you. I decided it would be best for me not to be there for you and I'm aware of my mistake here... But apologizing won't make the hurt and damage you faced go away. You're free to take your call, whether it may be divorce or not, and don't worry about our parents, I'll handle them."

You panned your head up at the word divorce, shifting to your feet and striding over to jay, where he stood previously, stuck in place. You faced and a loud smacked echoed across the room, his head turned 180 degrees, his cheek red with the strike of your palm.

"Atleast tell me you'll love me now, asshole,"

He put a palm to his cheek, running the area you struck him, watching your tear dried somber face, more threatening to brim out the ledge. "I'm sorry." He apologized, hanging his head low with shame and guilt.

"One thing you've never done to me," eyes conveying different sorts of emotions, "is kiss me."

He looked rather surprised at the observation, "I knew if I kissed you, there'd be no going back, both mentally and physically."

"Jay weve fucked before for hours yet you never kissed me once, didn't you think I'd find it strange? And when were you going to tell me about this whole one year marriage clause being nullified, meaning we'd spend the rest of our lives together part? Not that I didn't think we'd spend our whole lives together but I guess we thought different."

"I was planning to, but the time was never right, so..."

You turned your back to him and walked to the suites bedroom and to the bathroom, jay following behind slowly. Splashing water to your face and drying it off, seeing an awkward jay hanging around in the tension of the air. "Sit," you ordered, pointing to the ledge of the bed. Confused, he still complied, comfying himself on the edge of the bed.

"Good,"you commented, hiking up on the bed and onto jays lap to his surprise, situating yourself atop of him, staring back down to his glasses over pupils, red and swollen from the lack of sleep and fatigue. "Are you tired, darling" this time saying the nickname endearingly. "Not really,"

"then kiss me,"

Flustered by your demand, he began stuttering, "Are you sure? Like really?" You nodded along, "yes,"

"then I guess I could," he became nervous, but built up the the courage to put his hand to the back of head and slowly press down in it till your lips met his. The motion started out awkward, then jay relaxed after a few seconds or so and found a rhythm you could match.

The dynamic of the intensified as jay began settling into reality that he was kissing his wife. Swiveling his tongue around yours he began tasting every corner of your mouth, exploring every inch. You attempted to pull away due to lack of air but he held you back your hair aggressively tugging to his lapping tongue.

You moaned his mouth, hand squeezing his shoulder for stability, swiping over your bottom lip, and softly biting your lip, he let go of the insane grip he had on you. You heaved your chest up and down, messing your hair. You pushed down to the bed, sitting on top of him.

He tugged your arm towards him and you were face to face with jay. He brushed past hair intruding your picturesque visual. He lifted up your shirt enough to expose your stomach and rubbed past the expanse soothingly. He picked you and flipped you over and onto your back and made you scoot to the headrest.

The two of your made out for another few minutes or so only pulling back when in dire need of oxygen. Your lips were swollen but you were addicted. Even though the two if you had got intimate before, it was nothing compared to the emotions you felt through this. You sat up on the bed to catch your breath and ruffled through his hair endearingly.

With your approval he yanked your shirt off, then he stripped off his shirt, trapping you in between his legs. "You kiss me," he breathed out and situated his hands behind back to suport both his and your weight. You lunged at him and connected your lips to his, grinding down where your body met as he let out the soft noises from his mouth as he moved to kiss at his jaw, your hands running the expanse of his well built chest and back.

You obsessed over marking his jaw and neck for a good few minutes before travelling down to his nape, marking and sucked the area. You peppered kisses back up to his lips, taking his bottom lip between your teeth,feeling the vibrations of his groans down to your wet spot and grinded harder but free tired and settled on top of his clothes hardness.

He returned the favour by making you mean with every touch, electrifying you body. You but as his ear when his began to touch you through your remaining clothes, still keeping his lips fixated on yours. Approaching closer to your high you became hypersensitive of his every action he performed on you.

He set you on him and forced you down onto his hard-on till you cried of pleasure, riding off the whiteness by laying you down on the bed and dropping up on his elbows to kiss you. You felt immense pleasure and relief, showing your gratitude by jerking him off.

Tired, you laid on the bed in his arms, still thinking about the events that took place. "At this rate, we could just expect a kid," you say, laughing it off as a joke, "then we'll have to get to work.* He replied with a giggle and you buried yourself in his chest with a smile.

#enhypen #enhypen jay #enha smut #enhypen smut #enhypen hard hours #enhypen hard thoughts #enha imagines #enhypen angst #enha #park jay #enhypen imagines #jay enhypen #enhypen fanfic #enha jay #enha angst #jay park #jay x reader #park jongseong #enhypen hard headcanons

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writeastorywhere · 2 years

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It always grinds my gears when a writer doesn't seem to have any love for human beings. Everyone is inhospitable, or too stupid to function, or too much a stock archetype to develop in any meaningful way. Not because I personally think that human beings are intrinsically good ("good" is a useless designation for real people anyways) but because real human beings have the fucking range.

Most people aren't going to be inhospitable to random strangers, because that's not a useful way to live your life--being needlessly cruel is a good way to get your shit pushed in. If someone is being stupid about one thing, chances are there's something else they know a lot about, because nobody is blanket bad at everything. And of course most people are going to subtly contradict any stock archetypes they're assigned.

That's not to say that people can't be cruel and stupid and predictable; it's just that they're kind and intelligent and chaotic in equal measure, and when I see a writer forgetting that, it frustrates me, because that's good drama you're missing! You could be taking advantage of all that. And what are you doing instead? cheap bullshit. boring asf

#writing #writeblr #very frustrating time as of late trying to read more books and feeling let down #because the authors are like. so focused on realising that people are cringe that they forget sometimes people are also based #sorry for using cringe and based hopefully yall get what i mean

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ravisinghs-wife · 1 year

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The seven + Nico and Reyna and their red flags ✼

warnings: not proofread, swearwords, lmk if I missed anything!

a/n: okay I'm sorry I didn't post for like two months, ngl I simply forgot that this blog existed😭

notes to the fic: reader is written as gn (one mention off y/n), but pls don't read Nico's part if u identify as female! :)

masterlist

Percy

he's always barefoot during spring and summer

you'll never catch him with shoes on because he things that they are "blocking the fresh air his toes need"

at least they never get that dirty because he can't survive five minutes without jumping in the sea

when he was younger sally had to force him wear shoes to school, to the parkt et cetera and he was always so angry at her after that because he hated it with all his passion

that anger quickly faded after she baked some blue cookies

after growing up he learned that he should wear shoes to school et cetera but the second he is at camp he gets rid of them

after you dressed it he delegated that he always washed them and kept them clean so there was no wrong doing it and that it's actually healthy for your feet

Annabeth

listen, I love annabeth

but she's always mansplaining

Like u could be talking about ur close family that she only met once and she‘d say something like „actually, i had the impression that…“

It’s so annoying

she doesn't even mean it mean or something

but it also could be just a conversasiation that she isn't even involved in and she'll just randomly pop up and mansplain the topic

jason

That boy doesn’t have any basic knowledge

Like he is at camp jupiter since he’s three or something

I‘m not sure if they even knew what they where teaching him

Like that boy doesn’t know algebra

You could be talking about something in history and how deeply that event infected the way society lives now and he‘d be like „what do you mean?“

And he’s serious

Everytime Percy and Leo make fun of him for not knowing something he‘ll run to you and beg you to explain it to him

Most of the time you make a bit fun of him too because a 17 year old boy who doesn’t know what the french Revolution was is kinda funny

He knows that you‘re just joking though

hazel

I love her but she's like one of the extra careful mom's whose world break when their child hears a swear word

every time you are someone near both of ou swears she has this weird shocked and impressed look and looks around the room

you had to stop swearing around her bc she always starts blushing and looks at you in awe

they don't even have to be the "bad" swear words, it could be something like shit and she'd still be shocked

you had to learn to find alternatives like fudge or fox

she made you browse for the alternatives to swear words for around two hours at midnight and made you subscribe to the mommy blogs incase they had "more cool little alternatives"

piper

she's a die hard romance book hater

she always gives you the weird look when you read one or even only look at one at the bookstore

like she doesn't even have a plausible reason besides that they "always have the same ending and are very predictable"

I mean she's right but still

when she was 14 she had an instagram where she just talked shit about romance books because she was bored

it's not even that she doesn't like reading or books that much, she just doesn't like them because they (as already said) have the same ending and because she gor sick of the perfect romantic ending after drew talked night in and out about it

you once convinced her to read your favorite romance book and she tried her best to be nice

she actually didn't find it that bad and liked the ending but she would never admit that to you

leo

that boy either doesn't shower for one week or takes two hour showers

it's a bit better in the summer but especially in winter he never shower because he "would just get dirty later again"

you have to force him too properly shower because he would just forget it again

and when he actually showers for once he takes two hour showers

but especially in summer he's just gonna swim in the lake and call it a day because he basically "got clean already"

frank

I love frank sm but he would 7 in 1 shampoo

he doesn't get why it's bad and insists that it makes his hair shinier

you try to explain it to him once but he just doesn't understand 😪

he also tries to convince you all the time that it's so much better than owning body wach, shampoo and conditioner

nico

is a pop music hater

he always has this annoyed look on his face when you play pop music

he always makes this disappointed dad sigh and says "again?"

nico sounds so disappointed

he secretly loves it about you tho

reyna

she's like a confused mom and never gets jokes

"what do you mean by that, y/n? I never do that"

you try to explain the joke to her but give up after 10 minutes

she's grumpy for the rest of the day because you wouldn't finish explaining it to her

eventually she gives her pride up and asks you again

and after another ten stressful minutes she finally gets it

she kept arguing that what you said doesn't make sense

#x reader #dating headcanons #percy jackson x reader #fanficton #masterlist #annabeth chase x reader #hazel levesque x reader #frank zhang x reader #piper mclean x reader #jason grace x reader #nico di angelo x reader #reyna avila ramirez arellano #Reyna Ramirez Arellano x reader #Reyna ramirez x reader #percy jackson fanfiction #pjo x reader #pjo x you #red flags

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dontmixpaintinyourcoffee · 1 month

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OH MY GOOOOOOOOOOOODDDD THE NEW TGS PAGE IS MAKING MY BRAIN GO SO FAST I LOVE IT SO MUCH!!

First off, I love how violent it is. Obviously it's tonally appropriate, but it also seems like a logical escalation from the other instances of the transformation we've seen. I'm gonna rant about it for a minute so body horror warning I guess? I don't know what other category a guy vomiting green science goop would fall into.

Exhibit A:

From the very first change, it's always been very intense.

He describes it as deeply unpleasant and painful, because his bones are literally changing, and by the end of it he's fallen to the floor.

Pretty expected for your first time through an extremely physically traumatic event. But he never seems to get used to it.

Exhibit B:

This transformation takes place two years after the first one. I'm sure a lot of this is the way it is because this moment is very dramatic and it needs to land that way, but the in-world logic is far more interesting to me. His dropping the flask and collapsing implies that even after this whole thing has become routine, his body still isn't used to it. Obviously your bones changing on a dime is never gonna be easy to go through, but even after two years there seems to be almost no acclimation. He probably can't even accurately predict when the pain will start, otherwise he would've set the flask down earlier.

But both of these transformations seem somewhat predictable. It starts inside of his mouth and eyes and spills out, working from the inside outward. My guess is that that is the stabilizing effect of the portion. Because once he starts to transform without it as a catalyst...

Exhibits C, D, and E:

The process starts to break down. It starts the same way it always did, but by the third or fourth switch he starts producing a lot more science goop (Goop? Slime? Bile? Some kinda.... Green shit. What the fuck is this shit), but with less physical change. It starts getting onto his clothes, and it seems a lot more all- encompassing than it did before. Early on the goop seems incidental. The goop and the pain are both byproducts of the potion. But at this point he's practically choking on the stuff, it's not just an ambient effect, it's something being violently purged from his system. Until we get to this point- the first self-inflicted shift without the use of the potion.

Exhibit F:

It's completely out of control. Not only is it full-force Exorcist style exploding from his mouth, it looks like it's coming out of his skin. These two panels, to me, imply that the stuff is sweating out of his skin in quantities that are heavy enough to soak through his hair. His expression can be interpreted a few different ways- general agony, screaming, ect. - but when I imagine what this scene would sound like I think there's too much blockage for him to be screaming. The way he folds over, his wide eyes, the amount of goop, I'm willing to bet that his expression is him desperately trying to breathe.

Anyways. I genuinely love this stuff. This is exactly my type of horror. The kind that doesn't seem like straight up horror until you give it a bit of thought. Chef's kiss. Delicious. Finally some good fucking food

#tgs #the glass scientists #tgs hyde #tgs jekyll #rambling #God i love this comic

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dovveri · 5 months

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sun-kissed

bachelorette masterlist - part 1 • part 2 • part 3 • part 5 • part 6 • part 7

synopsis: an unexpected arrest deters filming for day 4 so instead, y/n and sana spend the day together. almost like a date?

warnings: mentions of child pedophilia! suggestive, cursing - i forget to tag that alot bcs its in all my fics but just assume its always there oop

w/c: 5.2k

a/n: okay this took me way longer than it should’ve to write but i think it’s maybe my favourite chapter so far… or maybe i’m soft rn 🤭 enjoy!

⋆｡‧˚ʚ♡ɞ˚‧｡⋆

could they have made any less of a scene?

the sirens have stopped but the blue and red lights continue to blaze as you stand in shock with the rest of the contestants while the cops raid the mansion.

sana had been taken away by the producers as soon as the police cars had pulled up.

when they're finally done checking the mansion, they walk out a cuffed wonsik. his head is down, refusing to look at any of you, hands behind his back as he's shoved into the back of the police car.

none of you had a clue what was going on, you were all enjoying the third rose ceremony and nothing could've predicted where this night had led you.

eventually, after the police have long driven away, the producers return with sana who looks a little shaken up. you head towards her immediately, wrapping your arms around her shoulders, but she can't seem to face you, eyes blank as she follows the producers instructions for everyone to come back into the mansion.

"sana? sana?" you're trying to get her attention, shaking her slightly.

she snaps out of it with a blink, looking up at you in confusion, "hm?"

"you okay? kinda lost you back there."

"mm yeah i just- it was just really unexpected."

"what was?"

she nods her head towards the producers who are now standing in front of the leftover contestants preparing to make an announcement.

"okay guys so we only just found this out but wonsik has been arrested on charges of owning child pornography, engaging in pedophilic acts, and sexual assault of a minor. the police have searched the house and confiscated all of his items and any incriminating evidence they could use in court. as you all know, we do conduct background checks on all contestants before they are accepted onto this show, and we apologise that this incident has been overseen. we won't be editing wonsik's arrest out of tonight's episode, but he has obviously been eliminated. we'll take tomorrow off filming to allow you all a small break and please do let us know if you have any concerns moving forward with filming."

what the actual fuck?

as soon as the producers are done with their announcement everyone is talking on top of each other, trying to figure out just what the hell happened and how this happened under everyone's noses.

"did you know?"

"holy shit i never saw that coming out of him-"

"man its always the quiet ones that are the most fucked up-"

you turn to sana in shock, feeling much like how she had looked just a little earlier. "sana?"

she's still a little distracted when she looks at you, "hmm? i'm tired y/n. let's go back home?"

you're nodding quickly, leading her away from the aftermath to the quiet cool of the outside air. you wave down your driver and quickly lead sana inside, stuttering out directions to your villa and sitting back, sneaking a glance at sana who's looking out the window with glazed eyes.

the drive back is silent save for the low hum of the engine. you're a little surprised when sana shuffles closer to you, linking her arm through yours and placing her head on your shoulder, still not saying anything.

you take her hand in yours, interlock your fingers, and lean your head on hers. the rest of the short drive is spent like this, the silence is thoughtful, but not awkward.

even as you arrive back at the house, your hands never leave each other's, you lead her towards your shared bathroom and brush your teeth side by side. only letting go of each other when you both go to start your nighttime skincare routines.

sana has a much more intricate routine than you because of her obsession with all things health-related and her need to take care of her skin well. so you finish earlier than her, mumbling a quick goodnight while she's still bent over the sink and moving past her to retire yourself to bed.

you close all the blinds, intending to have a full night's rest and wake up late tomorrow because filming was cancelled, climbing under your sheets and sighing at the feeling of soft fabric against your skin.

your eyes are slowly drifting shut when your door peeks open, and sana's slipping in, closing the door behind her, shrouding the room in darkness again. she tiptoes to the edge of your bed, lifting the cover and sliding inside, cold feet come to entangle themselves with your legs, shuffling close as you get a whiff of her night serum, the sweet, tangy smell of mandarin subtly descending upon your senses.

"this is okay right?" she's murmuring against you, you're lying face to face, eyes sleepily open while your eyes readjust to the darkness, making out the soft curl of her eyelashes and the perfect slant of her nose.

you hum against her, sliding an arm over her waist and pulling her closer, resting your foreheads together and closing your eyes comfortably.

you think she's drifted off to sleep after a few minutes, but she speaks up in a whisper, barely there, you wouldn't have heard her if you weren't almost lip to lip, "y/n?"

"hm?"

you feel the soft breath of her sigh against your lips, "i... i should've known... he- i could've put him away faster- i gave him a platform- he was on national television and oh y/n, kids the kids he took advantage of could've seen him on tv and thought-" she's slowly panicking the tone of her voice getting shakier as she spirals and allows herself to voice her thoughts out loud for the first time, "-thought that he was in the right that it was okay that there were no consequences and then i kissed him oh my god i kissed him y/n and what kinda message does that send like-"

"sana sana baby shh, shh c'mere-" you're pulling her into you, tucking her head under yours and she starts crying and shuddering, hands twisted at the collar of your shirt.

"i just- like what's worse is i actually liked him-"

"mm no no sweetie stop stop. listen no-one knew what he was okay? it's not your fault you fell for him you can't blame yourself for that. he literally came here with the intention of making you do that you were just another one of his unlucky victims okay? and look, once this gets out on the news he's not going to have that platform anymore okay? in fact he'll probably hate that he came on here because he's going to be even more infamous than if he had stayed anonymous. we can only be real and truthful going forward so that those poor kids are validated in their feelings. he's going to be put away for a long long time now and he's not gonna have the chance to pull any more of that shit okay?"

she's sniffling into your shirt, listening to you talk and soothe her. you continue whispering sweet reassurances into the night, waiting for her to calm down.

she sniffles again, finally looking up at you, eyes red and snot dribbling out of her nose, your heart aches, "can we go out tomorrow? just us, like old times."

you smile at her request, nodding and pressing a gentle kiss onto her forehead, "of course baby. we can go do whatever you want. i promise i'll be yours for the whole day."

she's smiling, thanking you softly and closing her eyes. you wait to hear the her breath slow into quiet even snores before you stop stroking her hair, just holding her against you and closing your own eyes. drifting off to sleep with the adorable mimimimi sound she lets out only when she's exhausted and sleeping well.

⋆｡‧˚ʚ♡ɞ˚‧｡⋆

the next morning the both of you wake up around 10am, a comfortable time that allowed you to sleep-in, but not so much that you'd miss out on the entire day.

some producers stop by to check in on sana and go through a small debrief of everything that's happened and what they have left to film in the show.

you can tell she's still a little on edge and wants to get away from everything as fast as possible so you politely ask the producers for time off today and to leave the both of you alone until tomorrow since no filming was happening anyway.

eventually, they're leaving and sana's throwing on casual white pants, a light cardigan on top of a knit button-up, sunnies, grabbing her prada handbag and she's ready to go.

you're lucky you have so many things at your disposal, even multiple cars in the garage to pick from as you grab a random set of keys and click unlock. spotting a white convertible respond with its headlights flashing twice and leading sana towards the car, hopping in. sana's mood has already improved greatly, bubbling with excitement as she lists off some names of a couple restaurants you could try in town for lunch. you smile at her nodding along and humming as you start the engine, pulling out of the garage and onto the valley road, turning on the radio and laughing at the way sana almost jumps out of her seat, neck craning up, eyes closing, letting the wind sprinkled with a hint of sea salt blow through her hair, breathing in a deep breath of satisfaction.

you know you're meant to keep your eyes on the road but it was empty anyway and sana looked so so beautiful. you traced the slope of her nose, down to the curve of her lips as she smiles, the sharp lines of her jaw, and the smooth plane of skin at her neck.

she's peeking an eye open at you, laughing when you realise you've been caught, her giggle high and airy. you loved her so much. and it was getting harder and harder to say that to her without it meaning something a little more.

you're pulling into town soon, she's babbling excitedly and pointing at things that interest her with the curiosity of a child, you're trying to find parking and smoothly drive into an angled spot just in front of the restaurant you had both decided on.

you're jumping out of the car and running to the other side to get her door, and she's giggling and smiling when you take her hand, pressing a sweet kiss to her knuckles, and helping her out of the car.

you enter the bustling shop hand in hand, smiling kindly at the waiter who greets you and ushers you to a table situated next to a large window, allowing a picturesque view into the bay area with a couple fishing boats coming back in after an early morning.

you continue your act of chivalry, pulling out her chair before she sits, and then walking over to take your own seat across from her.

you both glance over the menu enjoying the hum of a busy eatery.

"do you know what you want yet y/n?"

the words on the menu were quickly meshing together, lots of french and seafood terms you wouldn't be able to take a first guess at the meaning of. you pout and shake your head.

she giggles at your antics, "it's okay i'll order for us." she's waving over the same waiter who greeted you at the door, then listing off a few menu items, her french sounding poised and elegant, though you knew she had not-so-secretly spent a year obsessing over french ballet and had even taken up a few lessons herself, only to realise she was much too clumsy to continue it. she had thanked your mutual friend mina for the gracious lessons but resorted to attempting to learn french as an outlet for her obsession.

"-leave out the pickles in everything. and that'll be all thankyou."

your heart picks up a little at the small gesture. you despised anything with pickles in it, and she knew that, making sure you wouldn't have to pick out any of those sickly green slices.

you smile in thanks when the waiter leaves with your order, only to come back quickly afterwards with a bottle of chardonnay which she pours into two elegantly carved wine glasses she's brought along with her.

you raise your eyebrows at sana, questioning the alcohol, but she only sits forward, propping an elbow up on the table and leaning her head into it with a smile.

"day drinking?"

"what? i'll drink yours if you don't want it."

you roll your eyes at her affectionately, taking the glass and sipping, humming at the sweet and tangy bitterness that fills your mouth.

she copies your actions with a beam, setting her glass back down and licking her lips. you follow the action.

"is there anything else specific that you wanted to do today?" you're asking her, taking another sip from your glass.

"mm, not really. i don't mind as long as i'm with you."

"glad to know you're feeling well enough again to flirt."

"oh always with you baby. you're the only one for me."

"that's a bold faced lie and you know it."

she pouts at that, and you can't help yourself, leaning forward and pressing lightly on her bottom lip.

"stop that. put that back in there."

she licks your finger and you hiss, pulling away quickly in mock disgust while she laughs, "please you've made me suck on your fingers and now you're grossed out?"

the waiter decides to come with your first dish at that exact moment, a light dusting of pink on her cheeks when she overhears sana's comment, you don't fare much better when you flare up in embarrassment, hastily wiping your finger on your skirt and babbling out a loud thank you to the waiter.

you glare at sana who's trying her hardest not to laugh, no shame whatsoever, shaking in her seat at the effort of keeping it in, her lips pursed and eyes twinkling.

"you're so going to get it when we get back." you mumble as you stab into a mussel on the plate in front of you.

"awwwwh poor baby's embarrassed, don't worry, mommy will make it better."

your fork drops at the term and you feel yourself going extraordinarily red. she's laughing now, loud and boisterous, drawing the attention of a few onlookers and you throw your napkin at her, whining and slinking back into your chair trying to hide your face.

it's a few seconds after you've folded you arms across your chest and tucked your chin in, willing the heat in your cheeks to go away while staring into your lap, that sana's stopped laughing.

she picks up a mussel with her fork and holds it out to you, leaning forward onto the table again, eyes bright making an 'ahh' sound.

you turn your head, not giving her the satisfaction of paying her attention, but she's persistent, "c'mon y/n. i'm sorry i won't tease anymore i promise."

it's no surprise that you can't resist her, rolling your eyes and opening your mouth, accepting the fleshy piece of seafood and chewing. she's smiling and poking her own piece to put in her mouth, humming at the taste and making sure it was to your liking as well.

the rest of lunch is spent like this, playful and fun, it's good to be able to feel like yourselves again after all the hectic film shooting.

you're standing up to grab the bill after you're both finished when sana shakes her head at you, "i got it already don't worry."

"huh? what do you mean?"

"i told the waiter earlier in french so you wouldn't know. just let me treat this time? i still haven't really been able to thank you for coming along with me for this."

"what? sana this was like... a one hundred dollar meal at least. don't be silly let me pay you back."

she's humming and putting her cardigan back on, standing up and walking in front of you, "pay me back by winning something for me at the arcade?"

you sigh, grumbling along as she giggles at you, taking your hand and leading you out of the restaurant, thanking your waiter who still looks a little off-put by you, and walking down the street to where you had spotted the small arcade earlier.

you purchase a hefty amount of arcade tokens and get straight into all the classics. sana just barely won air hockey against you, jumping and whooping with every goal, you have to take off your jacket midway through the game, sweating as you try and focus on hitting the little puck. you get her back on the dance machines though, you can't keep in the laugh when she somehow ends up sprawled on the floor, limbs tangled and missing every following beat.

you cycle through the arcade, speeding through mario kart and midnight run, shooting with abysmal accuracy at the gun games, trying your hand at some of the more unique japanese arcade games they have (which sana completely destroys you at), and eventually ending up at the wide variety of claw machines.

sana's pulling you towards one with spy x family collectibles, and you furrow your eyebrows in concentration as you try to get the small anya keychain for her.

she's giving you instructions from the side of the machine, trying to give you as much perspective as possible before the time runs out and the claw drops. you wait with baited breath as it grabs the keychain, comes back up with a whir, and then... the keychain falls out at the bump at the top of the machine.

you don't even hesitate when you push in another token, determined to win this one thing.

sana's with you the whole way, her reactions only getting more and more expressive with each loss.

you're probably on your 9th try, the claw grabs onto the keychain, lifts it up, and with a whoop the keychain's falling successfully into the claim box. sana's caterwauling and jumping into your arms and you lift her up in glee, spinning her around once before setting her back down. you bend down to pick up the keychain, presenting it to sana with a flourish, and then she's kissing your cheek and squeezing you against her in a hug, thank yous spilling out of her in rapid succession.

you giggle against her, hugging back, relishing in the contact.

after you exchange your arcade tickets for prizes, you head down towards the docks, stopping for some ice cream before making it to the boardwalk.

there are a few other couples doing the same thing, and when you nod politely to an elderly couple holding hands, you're hit with the abrupt realisation that you and sana must look like a couple right now. unless people were homophobic, then you'd just be a couple of close friends, maybe roommates.

you're suddenly hyperaware of the sweat starting to collect on your palm, releasing her hand and wiping it on your skirt when she looks at you with a cocked head, mid-lick of her ice cream cone, eyes wide.

you switch your own ice cream cone to your other hand so it looks like you had an excuse to let go, avoiding her questioning gaze.

eventually you both decide to sit down at the end of the boardwalk, legs dangling over the edge and looking out across the bay. there weren't any boats currently docked in so you had a clear view of the blue vastness in front of you.

sana's leaning in and looking up at you with puppy dog eyes.

"...what?"

she doesn't speak, her eyes darting down to your own ice cream cone and back up.

you roll your eyes and hold it out for her.

she's grinning and sticking out her tongue to lick a long strip along the side of your cone, humming in satisfaction.

"wanna try mine?"

"i'm okay thanks."

she's pouting and you can't have that so you lean in and lick some of hers, cringing at the overly sweet taste of artificial fairy floss but the smile she gives you afterwards makes up for it.

you both sit back and enjoy the light afternoon breeze, a calming presence after the hectic running around you did at the arcade.

"i missed this." sana speaks up first.

"me too."

"things have been pretty crazy with the house. i'm really glad that you're here with me though."

you turn to her and smile, "i'm glad you let me come."

"of course. the home visits later on are gonna get a little crazy. every season those are always full of drama."

"do you know who you want to end up there yet? your final four?"

she hums, thinking for a little, "still not really. we have... nine- wait no, eight since wonsik's a pedophile. so jacky, eunji, jihyo, momo, jun, jiwon, nayeon, and dae."

"it's a good mix i think. they all have different types of chemistry with you."

you're distracted by a buzz on your phone, taking it out and opening your messages.

miyeon: y/n!!!!! i just saw the news about wonsik! its everywhere rn r u guys okay?

"who's that?" sana's looking at your with a curious lilt in her voice.

you hesitate to respond, knowing how she reacted the last time you and miyeon were together.

"oh just my uncle. he's asking what to get my mum for her birthday later. you'd think he'd know since they're siblings but..." you trail off, typing a quick response back to miyeon.

y/n: it was crazy no one saw it coming! the producers called off filming today.. probably so they can deal with all the legal disputes that'll come up bcs of this

you tuck your phone back into your jacket, ignoring the new messages you get. you could respond to miyeon later. today was meant for you and sana.

sana's sighing and leaning her head on your shoulder, "wish i wore swimmers. it's such nice weather and the water looks soo good."

"we can head back and go for a swim in the pool if you want? we haven't had a chance to use it yet. may as well get the most out of being the main character on this show."

she's up in seconds, grinning, all fatigue gone as she practically prances back towards the car, only turning back to yell at you to hurry up.

you beam at her, running to catch up, laughing and smiling, just the two of you.

⋆｡‧˚ʚ♡ɞ˚‧｡⋆

sana's yelping when you cannonball into the deep end of the pool, splashing her with cold water in your wake.

"y/n!!"

you break the surface grinning and laughing, trying to splash more water on her.

"sto- stop! y/n oh my god-"

"hurry uppppppp! it's not cold if you get it over and done with!"

"no! i need to put on sunscreen first!"

"sunscreen? it's 4pm!"

"there are still UV rays at this time! i don't want to die from skin cancer and if you're a good girl you'll get out and let me put sunscreen on you too."

you narrow your eyes at her while she's lathering her legs with the white cream.

you decide to ignore her, diving into the pool and resurfacing a few times, splashing around by yourself while she takes her sweet time. to be honest, you're glad for the coolness the pool offers you, when sana first stepped out in her pale yellow bikini, you had felt your cheeks blush all the way up to the tips of your ears. you'd avoided her gaze quickly, instead opting for racing her outside and jumping in right away.

now that she wasn't watching you though, you couldn't help the way your eyes drifted over to her. she had finished with her legs and was now applying lotion to her arms. you traced the outline of her-

"y/n!"

you startle in the water, and she's looking at you curiously when you make a sort of weird strangled sound and water goes swashing around. "y-yeah?" you clear your throat, hoping you weren't as red as you felt.

"can you help with my back? i can't reach." she's looking at you with a dangerous pout, eyes pleading.

you mumble incoherently as you swim towards the shallow end, stepping out of the pool and grabbing the sunscreen bottle from her, gesturing for her to turn around while she grins at you.

you squirt some of the lotion onto your hand, rubbing it diligently into her back. you knew how much she cared for her skin, and even though you cared significantly less for your own, it mattered to her so you had to make sure you did a good job.

the problem arose when you started reaching her lower back. the pressure you've been applying becomes considerably less when you realise just how close you are to sana's ass. sana's very very attractive ass, only emphasised in these bikini bottoms.

"feeling shy y/n?"

"s-shut up."

"you can do my ass too if you want y'know. it's not like it's anything you haven't felt before."

you can picture the cheeky smirk on her face while you recap the sunscreen bottle after you're finished. and really, you just felt like you had to do something about that so before you know it, a hand's coming down and smacking her, a loud resounding slap followed closely by sana's yelp.

you're jumping back into the pool, trying to push the image of her cheeks rippling in the most perfect way to the very back of your mind.

when you break the surface again with a bubbly laugh she's still standing by the side of the pool, arms crossed and an unimpressed look on her face.

"did you just spank me y/n?"

you stick your tongue out her in defiance, sending a splash of water her way.

"oh you are so dead!" she's jumping in now, and you're scrambling away trying to put as much distance between you two as possible. but she closes in quickly, tackling you underwater and pulling you down so you're both submerged.

you're grinning and then you're laughing, but not in a good way because her fingers are at your sides tickling you and digging into all of the sensitive points in your body she's discovered over the time you've known each other.

you spend the next few minutes trying to one up one another, droplets of water flying everywhere, noisy screeches and laughs sounding out. you're lucky this mansion of a house was situated in the valleys with no neighbours or you most definitely would've gotten a noise complaint.

eventually, you decide to call a truce, cheeks sore from smiling, stomach sore from laughing. you float onto your back, closing your eyes and letting out a loud sigh in comfort. you can feel sana floating next to you, your heads next to each other, hearts beating in tandem.

she’s speaking up after a minute, "cats or dogs?"

you snort, "i don't mind."

you can hear the whine in her voice, "just pick one."

you hum thinking about it for a little, "whatever suits my lifestyle better i guess. if i'm really busy with work or i have to stay home a lot then probably a cat. but if i have a big backyard or something then probably a dog. knowing me though, i'll probably end up with cats. i'm too lazy to keep up with the energy dogs have."

"not with me though right?"

"what? of course not with you. also, you're not a dog sana."

"people say i look like a shiba inu."

"that's not the same thing."

she giggles a little before sighing, "you suit cats. okay. it's decided. we're getting a cat when we go home."

"huh?!"

she's breaking into high-pitched laughter again and you can only find yourself to be slightly concerned over whether she's being serious or not. you could deal with that at a much later date though. you drift back into a comfortable silence, listening to the sounds of the night wildlife slowly wake up in the valleys next to you.

"y/n?"

"hmm?"

"i love you."

your eyes are opening now, heart rate picking up. there's no reason to panic right? she meant it as a friend. a friend. so why was it so hard to say it back to her? as a friend?

instead, you say, "enjoy our date that much minatozaki?"

she doesn't respond with the same teasing tone you're expecting, "i really did." all honest and pure.

you're gulping, "...me too."

you know she's standing when you feel light waves push against your body, so you lift yourself up, looking at her puzzled, but she only goes to stand in front of you, grabbing your arms and wrapping them around her waist.

you let her, squeezing slightly and dropping your head onto her shoulder, your eyes drinking in the pinks and oranges of the sunset.

"you're not gonna say it back?"

you stiffen behind her, "what?"

"you know what."

she's tightening her hold around you even before you try to subconsciously escape.

you let out an almost-laugh breath, "...i love you too sana."

"was that so hard?" she's turning now, pupils dilated when they meet yours, pink lips slightly parted, noses almost touching.

you're shaking your head no, breath caught up in your throat.

a crinkle appears between her eyebrows, you have the urge to smooth it out, "are you lying?"

another shake of your head.

you feel her breath against your lips as she lets out a soft exhale, the tightening of her hands against your forearms helping ground you, if only slightly.

"i hope one day you'll be able to tell me the truth." you're confused, what was she talking about? "for now i guess this is fine." and then she's leaning in and pressing her lips against yours.

its almost an automatic reaction now. your mouth is moving against hers even before your brain registers you're kissing.

she's sweet, she always is. but this kiss is a little different. it's not filled with passion or heat, not like all your previous kisses that have always led to tangled limbs and heavy breaths. it's soft, tender, like she's trying to tell you something with her lips. you just weren't particularly versed in this form of sana communication yet to be able to tell what that was.

when she breaks away, the sun is dipping behind the horizon, her forehead leaned against yours, breaths coming in shorter after the lack of air.

she shivers a little when a cool gust of wind starts up.

"inside?" you ask.

she nods, letting you go, and following you out of the pool to dry off.

the rest of the night, even when you end up sprawled on messy sheets, sweat coating your bodies and arms around each other, your lips still tingle from her kiss in the pool. you fall asleep dreaming of small kittens, ice-cream, and sana.

#sana #minatozaki sana #twice sana #sana x reader #sana x f!reader #sana x fem!reader #twice x reader #twice x f!reader #twice x fem!reader #twice imagines #sana imagines #dovveri

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starcurtain · 23 days

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I wish everyone collectively understood aventurine’s character like you…things would be so much easier! I genuinely don’t understand how people keep getting his motivations wrong??? Could it be because some of the most popular Aven fanfics were written prior to his release? That could have contributed to some of the takes we tend to see about him…thoughts?

I struggled all day to come up with a concise way to answer this and couldn't think of one, so here, have a long-winded ramble:

I don't think early fic writers have much impact in the situation with Aventurine's character now, since most people can look at when a story was posted and go "Oh, this was before we had ____ information."

I think that Aventurine's problem is being a male character in a gacha game. Gacha game characters are designed to sell. Hoyo can sell female characters very, very easily. Give her huge tits and a visible underwear strap and you're good to go. I love all my guy friends, but I'm not gonna sugarcoat it: straight men are not the hardest audience to please. Hit a particular fetish (feet, spandex, dommy mommy), and you're gucci.

Nah, we all know why Jade's trailer is Like That.™

Male characters in gacha are harder to sell because women as consumers are a little harder to predict. Does every woman want a tall, ripped hunk? Shit, no, small cute boyish models like Aventurine are selling better now? Why?! Would a bad boy be more popular than a nice guy??? It's harder to account for women's tastes, especially because they are often (a little) less visually-oriented.

Hoyo is good at what they do though, and they've figured out that male characters sell very well when they possess at least one of two specific traits:

Endearing vulnerability/helplessness

Gay ship tease

Give a character both, like Aventurine? They might as well be printing money.

That sound you hear is Hoyo's stock prices rising.

So, from the very beginning, Hoyo is incentivized to create a character that appeals to people, a character people will want to crack their wallets open for. And they achieved this, first and foremost, by giving Aventurine traits that female players (in particular, but men too), find especially appealing: emotional and physical vulnerability.

We see Aventurine's pain. We sympathize with his grief. We identify with his struggle to make meaning of his difficult life. He's our woobie, blorbo, babygirl, whatever the hell they're calling it now.

He can't hide his suffering anymore. He's on the very edge. He's a dude in distress. He's surrounded by enemies! He misses his mama! He's been betrayed! No one understands him like you do, dear player!

The ultimate feeling evoked is: He needs to be saved.

When people talk about male power fantasies, I think they forget that women can experience them too, and "Emotionally vulnerable man that only I (or my favorite character) can fix" is actually a female power fantasy.

And from there it's really easy, right: the people who shell out cash to buy warps for their harmed-husbando feel like they've saved him; the people who are into mlm ships look for the nearest hot dude to be the savior Ratio was waiting for his time lol.

Morally and intellectually, this type of deep-down-golden-hearted, emotionally-wounded male character is very easy to digest. There is nothing to dislike about this type of character or role in the story: this character is a good guy who has just gone through so many terrible situations, whose victim status makes him endearing, and whose lack of agency means that any of the questionable or downright bad things he does are always the result of someone else forcing his hand, and never something he would have chosen himself.

His motivations are always clear and consistent: get free, heal, and live happily ever after.

Insert the Wreck-It Ralph meme: "Do people assume all your problems got solved when a big strong man showed up?" But to be fair, a big strong man did kind of solve Aventurine's problem, so--

Anyway, it's simple. It's straightforward. Morally, it's pretty cut and dry, black and white: Aventurine is our hero, which means everyone dictating the course of his miserable life is evil.

Hoyo is not remotely discouraging people from literally buying into this emotional appeal.

And trust me, I get it. I'll be the first to admit that hurt-comfort is its own entire genre in fandom because it is so appealing. People eat up Aventurine's tragic backstory like candy! The idea of watching a character go through hell at the hands of bad guys just to finally find a happy end is like the definition of everyone's favorite story.

In fact... people love Aventurine's suffering so much, they have invented whole new ways for him to suffer that aren't even in the game.

This is where we get all the headcanons that Aventurine was a sex slave, every single person he meets hates him because of his race, the Stonehearts are executioners holding knives to his throat, Jade enslaved him to the IPC with a lifelong contract, his material possessions belong to the company, the IPC is forcing him to take only the most dangerous missions where he is being required by his evil jailers to continually put his life on the line... You name it and I promise you, I can find a fanfic where Aventurine suffers from it. 😂

Bro can't even sleep in on his day off; life is so hard for this man.

Being serious: if the game is telling us that Aventurine is a victim... Why not make him the perfect victim?

Why not envision an Aventurine with no freedom, who bears no responsibility for any of the horrible situations he is in or any of the dubious things he does?

It's so natural to like that version of Aventurine, so appealing to see a totally powerless underdog use his own wits and charms to claw his way up to freedom. Or, if you're the kind who really relishes angst: It's even appealing to see Aventurine lose more. To delight in fics where he loses his wealth, where the IPC punishes him for past crimes while he's powerless to stop them... (I assure you, this is many people's cup of tea and the fanfics prove it!)

Ultimately, there's nothing wrong with liking characters who are exactly this straightforward! It's completely fine to embrace characters that are intentionally written to be morally above-board, whose primary role in the story is to generate angst by being a good person who suffers, or those characters who never show unlikable traits, bad decisions, or contradictory actions.

The problem is that that's just not who the game is telling us Aventurine is.

Hoyo may be capitalizing off people who love to envision poor Aventurine still living his life as a slave... But the game also needs to tell a complicated enough story overall to appeal to people who don't care about this specific husbando--Aventurine's role in the actual game's plot has to be interesting enough for almost everyone to appreciate it, not just Aventurine's simp squad. (Don't get mad, I'm in the simp squad with you.)

So his character doesn't stop at just being a pure-hearted victim who is still waiting to be saved.

Aventurine is not that easy to label, and I think the biggest struggle in this character's fandom right now is between people who prefer the even-more-angsty, still-a-slave Aventurine versus people who want a morally grey, self-destructive character instead.

To me personally, while I greatly understand the appeal of fanon!Aventurine and the joy of a really juicy angst fic where characters lose it all, I think that missing out on the depth that canon is suggesting would be a real loss on the fandom's part.

The character motivations that Aventurine shows in the game are complicated. They cancel each other out. They're basically self-harm! He makes almost every situation he's in worse for himself--on purpose.

He is a good person, but also a person who has done unspeakable things. He does have morals, but he's not above allowing those who don't have them to use him to their advantage.

He's both the victim and the victor. He's his own worst enemy. He's a lost little boy who's been making terrible decisions for himself since he was like eight years old, and a grown ass man who is barely managing to fake his way through an existence that destiny is not letting him quit.

This kind of character is a lot harder to embrace. He's done things that most people would find appalling--like willingly joining up with the organization that let his entire race be massacred. He's invented a whole new peacock persona to frivolously flaunt riches he doesn't even care about (Poison Dart Frog Self-Defense 101). He actively plays into racist stereotypes about his people to manipulate others through their preconceived expectations. He's made a mockery of his mother's and sister's hopes and dreams by endlessly trying to throw his own life away.

He has flaws! He bet everything he had on a ploy without doing his homework to find out if the people he was risking his life for were even still around. (Maybe he already knew, and couldn't bear to admit it, even to himself.) He's intentionally off-putting and obnoxious to everyone he meets (Poison Dart Frog Self-Defense 102). He terrifies everyone who gets close to him by (seemingly) carelessly throwing himself into the jaws of death without the slightest provocation.

He knowingly allows the IPC to exploit his power and talents for profit. Did everyone forget that his role in the Strategic Investment Department is asset liquidation?! Like, his actual day-to-day job is ruining people's lives. Canonically, Aventurine kills people when his deals go bad.

His motivations change off-screen in two lines of story text. We're told in one line that his biggest reason for joining the IPC was to make money to save the Avgin, then in the next line we find out that's impossible. And... then what? What motivations does he even have now? The whole point of his character arc from 2.0-2.1 is that he was on the edge of giving in to utter despair and nihilism because he couldn't even perceive a single reason to stay alive. He has no purpose in life before Penacony, and that didn't start with the Stonehearts at all??

People keep saying Aventurine was held in the IPC by golden handcuffs, but how do you tie down someone for whom profit is meaningless? What can you offer to a man whose only desire is to bring back something already lost forever? How do you imprison someone whose only definition of freedom is, canonically, death?

Working for the Stonehearts is obviously not healthy. But that's why Aventurine was doing it--because taking dangerous missions allowed him to put himself at risk. The job that he originally pursued hoping to save his people became a direct means to self-harm, and the IPC's only real role in that was just happily profiting off the results.

The journal entries for Aventurine's quests are there deliberately to tell the player what is on his mind, and none of it has to do with escaping from his job:

Like... Work is the least of this man's problems.

At really the risk of rambling on too long now, he's also just a massive walking contradiction:

Aventurine is among the most explicitly religious characters in the game, yet he's one of the only people in the entire game that we have ever seen actively question his people's aeon.

You might be tempted to think Aventurine's risky gambles with his life as an adult are a result of giving up after finding out about the Avgin massacre... Butttt no, Hoyo makes sure to tell us that even at knee-high in the Sigonian desert, Kakavasha was already willing to risk himself in a fight to the death against monsters because even back then he found his own life to have less value than a single memento.

He's the "chosen one" who will lead his people to prosperity... except they're all dead.

He's explicitly suicidal... andddd also a pathstrider of Preservation.

He wants to die... He doesn't want to die. He wants to make it end, yet goes to staggering lengths to continually survive. (Every plan risks his life on purpose--but every plan's win condition is also to live.) He life is the chip tossed down, but his hand is trembling beneath the table. When faced with an otherwise unsurvivable situation, Aventurine literally became a winner of the Hunger Games. He beat other innocent people to death with his own chain-bound hands just to come out alive.

He knows the IPC failed the Avgin and left them to die... and he still willingly sought out a position of power in their organization. Maybe he really is after revenge... but maybe not.

He starts his journey in the IPC with a truly noble goal in mind: to help his people using his newfound wealth and power. He's a good guy who did genuinely want to save the Avgin and repay all those who helped him. But once it became clear he was too late, once it was obvious he would have no use at all for that monetary wealth and power he risked his life to get... What did he do with it? Unlike Jade, we don't see him over here donating to orphanages. (I'm not that heartless; I'm sure he does actually do a lot of good things with his money on the side, but the point is that the game does not show us that--it shows us, over and over again, Aventurine putting on a wasteful, over-indulgent persona toward wealth. We've supposed to feel how meaningless money is to him, how meaningless everything is becoming to him.)

He outright refuses to use underhanded tactics or to cheat at gambles, which is meant to show us that's he's more morally upright than his coworkers. There's an entire exchange where he says that he'll never stoop to using manipulation the way Opal does. But... he doesn't have any issue fulfilling Opal's exact agenda. He was never remotely morally conflicted about denying the Penaconians their freedom by dragging Penacony back under IPC control.

He's willing to risk his own life, which is one thing--but he's also willing to risk other people's well-being. Topaz accuses him of constantly egging their clients on into dangerous situations; we've actively seen him shove a gun into Ratio's hands and pull the trigger with no care for how Ratio would feel about that on their very first meeting... Dragging the Astral Express crew into the entire Penacony plan in the first place was exceedingly dangerous...

To me, I just think it's vital to understand his character through the lens of these contradictions because they demonstrate the extreme polarity of Aventurine's life: from rags to riches, from powerless to empowered by multiple aeons, from willing to kill to survive to killing himself... He has quite literally lived a life of "all or nothing," and while he is the victim of many terrible situations out of his control, his arc as a character involves facing the truth of himself and the future his own actions are hurtling him toward.

Frankly, the Aventurine that canon is suggesting is a little annoying. You want to grab him by the shoulders, shake him, and say "Why are you like this?!" And he won't even have an answer for you, because he doesn't even know why he's still alive.

In the end, to me, this is so, so much more interesting. I can read an endless supply of hurt-comfort fics where Aventurine escapes the evil IPC and Ratio is there to fill the void in his life with the power of love and catcakes and be a perfectly happy clam online, but I want canon to continue to serve us this incredible mess of a man who constantly takes one step forward and two steps back.

Who is fully aware of his role as a cog in the grotesque profit-wheel of cosmic capitalism and still manages to say he never changed from the rags-wearing desert rat of the Sigonian wastes.

Who over and over again flirts with nihility but, ultimately, even if he has to wrest it from the grip of the gods themselves with bloody, chain-bound hands, chooses life.

#honkai star rail #aventurine #aventurine meta #hsr meta #character analysis #listen I see you angsty fic writers who bully our favorite for maximum emotional gain #I am a ratiorine fan with the best of them #so I fully understand the appeal of the “I can fix him” fic #but like #there is so much else just waiting in the text of the game #that makes Aventurine such a rich complex and nuanced character #admitting that the IPC is the least of his issues makes him MORE interesting #not less #I promise #also like #getting so tired of reductive reads of my posts #just because I don't think Aventurine is a slave of the IPC #doesn't mean I think the IPC are good people #I'm not sure how many times I can say #'They're evil and are actively exploiting him for profit'#before people will stop saying I'm an IPC apologist lollll #I promise it is possible for Aventurine to have agency AND for the IPC to still be evil #those two statements can co-exist

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