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razzle-n-dazzle · 3 months

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Hihi!!

Can I ask for some Adam dating headcanons?

MY MAN NEEDS LOVEE

ᯓ★ "Alright, Sugartits. You, me, you know what we're going to do." Adam / reader | Headcanons This man deserves so much more love!! >:v

ᯓ As the first man, and proclaimed original dick, Adam not only is rather obnoxious with his titles though can be rude and a bit sexist. At least, that is what you first thought when you met him all those years ago; what felt like years but had actually been a few decades.

ᯓ You first met Adam in a council meeting, having been recently promoted to sit upon the council (or having been a sinner that Charlie was trying to redeem). Either way, you were not safe from Adam and his mischievous nature and it was like he could pick out new blood in the court room like a shark closing in on it's prey. You had been minding your business at first, settling yourself before you heard the sound of large wings flapping in your direction and a pair of footsteps landing behind you. Followed by another, smaller pair. The marble floor wasn't great in hiding their landing, but you guessed they weren't trying to be sneaky the moment that Adam had opened his mouth.

ᯓ "Shit, you're the new guy that Sera was talking about? Man, you're even shorter than I thought you were, Babe." Adam would laugh, jutting out his arm to measure the height comparison between you and him. You would turn around to this, and was quickly unamused by his antics. "Adam, I presume?" You would mumble back to him, face dropped in annoyance that he didn't seem to pick up on. He just seemed rather overly excited that you had knew his name. "Oh fuck! Mortal souls still talk about me down there on Earth? Well, I wouldn't expect anything else I fucking rock."

ᯓ He was pretentious, that was the best word you could describe him as. Rude, arrogant, obnoxious, pretentious. He boiled your blood anytime he opened his stupid mouth and you often just wanted to shove your hand down his throat just to rip it out. He would constantly barge into your office and appear behind you in court just to annoy you and see "what you're working on," since he's technically "your boss" and he just doesn't see anything "wrong with it". You've had to shove him out of your office so many times; had even complained to your superiors about his behavior and yet no one seemed to take you seriously. They would shrug their shoulders (especially Sera) and just claim: "That was Adam" and you just had to "deal with it." Oh and that made you want to punch the little fucker even more.

ᯓ Your 'professional relationship' with Adam started off extremely rocky and you tried your best to avoid him in the halls and courtroom at all cost. The less you had to see him, the less you had to hear about him, the less your had to hear him or even stand to be near him, the better.

ᯓ And Adam noticed. He noticed really quickly actually.

ᯓ Not like it was hard to notice, you basically avoided him at all costs. Taking another hallway if you saw or heard him coming down one, shoving past him if he tried to block your path, ignoring him if he tried to talk to you, and so much more that he brushed off. Constantly, you heard him turn to Lute and point at you, jokingly telling her: "It must be that time of the month." With his stupid grin and cheesy smile. (Does this even if you are male) And you thought it was just him trying to get under your skin and annoy you into talking to him again; or even acknowledging his presence. You also had a hunch that it was him trying to save his 'precious little ego' that makes him so insufferable to be near.

ᯓ Yet, it was odd. For how much you hated, no loathed Adam, you couldn't get his stupid face and idiotic voice out of your head when you were along, shrouded in the dead of night. Especially on nights like tonight: Where you were sat along in your office, the chimes of midnight ringing along Heaven, as night clouded and contaminated the once gleaming city of day. You were leaning over your desk, trying to finish an assignment given to you by Sera; an assignment that was important to your continuation of climbing the council ladder. And yet all you could hear was that stupid fucker's voice in your head constantly. His remarks, his tone, his- ugh! His stupid, stupid voice why couldn't it just leave you alone.

ᯓ Why couldn't he just leave you alone?

ᯓ . . . but, dammit, why did you feel comforted by the thought?

ᯓ In reality you shouldn't be, you should never feel comfortable around a prick like Adam who only searches for one thing in women; sex, ass, and tits. Three things, okay, but it's all in the general same category. He was the man who would be at the top of your hitlist, if you could have one in heaven, yet his voice was the only thing keeping you up right now; Letting you fight off sleep for another night and finish this report sooner than Sera said she wanted it just to show her how capable you are. And as you continued to scribble away, letting the moon crescent slip back under the clouds to let it's sister sun peak over with it's gleaming light, it hit you. And the realization of WHY hit you hard, and the truth made you stop in your tracks. The final period to end your assignment taunting you along with your thoughts:

ᯓ Somehow, someway, you had started to grow a crush on that fucker.

ᯓ Somehow, by some grace (more like punishment), of God did you begin to harbor something other than loathing for Adam. For the annoying Adam who constantly picked you out in a room and came over to talk to you. The Adam, which you never noticed, began to grow more tolerable even if you kept up your act of avoiding him. The Adam, who constantly comes in to see what your doing but then asks you a million and one questions, not because he cares about your work but because in some twisted sense in his mind, that's him caring about you or trying to get to know you. The Adam who called you Sugartits and Babe all in your first 2 seconds of meeting. "Fucking Adam.." You would grumble under your breath, slamming your pen down to finish that last period as a mix of emotions boiled in your blood.

ᯓ "Fuck me? Kinky, but what the fuck did I do to you, I just got in!" Shit. Well, this is such a great start in trying to get to know Adam better. (I hope you can hear the sarcasm that is basically pooling on the floor)

ᯓ Yet, somehow, no matter how rocky the situation ship started, somehow Adam had a big enough of an ego to see it through and you had gained enough patience to put up with his bullshit. And trust me when I say, you need either need to match his energy, yet in a more responsible way, or have enough patience to deal with this man or your drowning under his egoistical bullshit. (Adam needs a Hispanic wife desperately. /j)

ᯓ For the most part, your relationship is actually rather lovely. Most wouldn't believe it, seeing as Adam is.. well Adam, but you were able to see the weirdly good intentions behind his rather questionable and problematic choices. As for such, when he had gone to Sera to start the extermination, during the whole meeting all he could think about was keeping you safe. What was the best way to keep you safe? How could he keep you from being entranced by Lucifer or Lilith and their sin and evil? He didn't want to lose you like he lost Eve and Lilith. Sure, he joked about being a fuckboy and a player (at least that's how he comes off) yet he never has actually touched anyone after Eve. He was waiting for someone, someone like you, to capture his attention and soon after his heart; and he chased after you and he was going to keep you, and he was going to protect you if it was the last thing he did. Because as much as Adam hates to admit it, he is terrified to be alone; to live all the rest of his immortality by himself, going home to an apartment with no one to share the warmth and feeling that empty wound in his heart.

ᯓ Adam, on the lighter note, is also the type of man who will go to a restaurant with you and claim he'll try something new; i.e. lobster. You had known, at an instant, that it would go wrong and decided to order any sort of red meat you could find that you knew Adam would like. And, wouldn't you know it, when you two got the food he couldn't bare eating that lobster. So, you offered to switch your plates and he was more than happy to. You don't think he's caught on yet, but you'll keep it a secret just to be able to see the excited grin he gets before snatching your plate with a "Thanks Babe!" and even kissing you later.

ᯓ You learn very quickly the only way to get Adam to start cleaning around the house is to either A) let him play his guitar for you, to simulate that he's helping by giving you motivation (and swooning over his voice a little) or B) playing music similar to that Adam plays (like AC/DC, Imagine Dragons, anything Indie-rock) and give him small tasks to do that slowly equate to one larger task. And then, of course, there is always his favorite option C) hug your waist and make it impossible for you to clean your shared apartment as he basically speaks dirty into your ear with his classical snicker.

ᯓ You're guys sex life is amazing though, Adam makes sure of that (so that cunt Lucifer can't take you from him like he did Lilith and Eve, through 'temptation'). But, honestly, you're the only person he has given head to or has eaten out, pick your choice. Either way, man goes crazy if you tug on his hair or tell him you won't ever leave him.

ᯓ The first time you saw Adam with his mask off was an experience, both for you and for him. For a long, long time Adam kept his mask on around you, even while in private, and you've always asked why he did so but he would never give you a straight answer and would brush around it. You often chalked it up to be a comfort thing for him, to make him feel stronger than he actually was and you didn't bother him much. Yet one day, you got oh so curious about what his face was like under the mask that you couldn't help yourself: Sitting next to Adam outside on the balcony, you listened as he prattled on about his work day all the while he ate. He was having some burgers you had cooked for him before he got home, as he exclaimed about, "These bitches don't know who the fuck they were talking to! I mean, hello, I'm fucking Adam I'm the dick master and I would have fucked them into next Friday! I'm like 10 times cooler and stronger than them, bitches thought they could come into the exorcists and make fun of me, well I-..." Adam paused unnaturally, a confusion sweeping over his digitalized golden-accented features. "Babe, what the fuck are you doing?" He would add on no more than 5 seconds later, noticing had you had moved from your seat and basically were straddling him right now. Though you didn't hear him, well you did but you shut it out as soon as he opened his mouth again; "You know, this is making me fucking hard right now and if you just wanted your sweet little insides-" "Adam." You hushed him as his arms wrapped around your waist and brought you closer. There was no missing the way his eyes widened in suprise at your sterner tone. Though his grin returned, another crude comment about to slip from his lips before he hushed again; Doing so as your hands had meet and cupped his cheeks in such an oddly tender way. And Adam had a hunch what you wanted to do, or well what you wanted to see, and he felt those same nerves churn in his stomach again anytime this topic was brought up. Yet, no matter how much he noticed the want in your eyes, you didn't ask him. All you simply did was lean towards him and place your forehead against his, closing your eyes. And all Adam could do was stare at you, stare at your beauty in the light of the setting sun, and feel those nerves slowly string loose. And he felt safe; for the first time in a long, long, time he felt safe. "Babe.." And his voice cracked, causing your eyes to shoot open with worry. You drew away from Adam, your hands darting down to his shoulders as you wondered if you had somehow offended or harmed him. Yet all he did was smile softly at you as his wings fluffed out, basking in the light for a moment, before encapsulating the both of you. He was hesitant, his eyes drawing away from you as he took a moment to gather himself before he pulled off the mask for the first time. And you swore, in that moment, you somehow both practically died again and fell for him. "Oh shit.." You would mumble, catching Adam's attention rather quickly. You saw the worry contort on his face, "You've been hiding this handsome face from me, Adam what the fuck?! I would have much rather look at this than your fucking mask when you were blowing my brains out you b-" "Woah babe," Adam's hand rushed up and covered your mouth. You saw his scheming smirk playing onto his lips, "I can fuck you now if you want to, but I thought we were having a moment! Look at you, ruining it this time instead of me!~"

ᯓ Oh the fucking tease.

ᯓ Adam isn't perfect, far from it, but you aren't either. You honestly probably help each other over come traumas of the past and heal together. After all, you're both just a burning pile of hot mess, so why not be a burning pile together?

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ᯓ★ All posts/fanfictions posted under this blog is owned by @razzle-n-dazzle. Please do not steal, copy, or plagiarize the works! Likes, reblogs, and comments are always appreciated.

(Hope this was good! :D I haven't written since I had gotten sick and writer's fog/block, so this might be a little more shaky than my regular work. I would appreciate any constructive critiques you may have!)

#hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin adam x reader #adam x reader #not proof read #hazbin adam #hazbin hotel adam #god help me please #hazbin hotel lute #hazbin hotel season 1 #hazbin x reader #hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel headcanon #hazbin headcanons #x reader #headcanons / ooc.#headcanons #there is swearing and sex jokes in this my god #help

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forcemeanakin · 7 months

Text

Hot with brains

•WARNINGS: SMUT. Fingering (f receiving), oral fixation, dirty talk, praise kink and also degrading kink, corruption kink kinda??? Edging. Public space. The OC has a kink that attracts her to smart guys.

Pairing: ROTS!Anakin Skywalker x Female!reader.

Summary: Anakin falls for the librarian at the Jedi Temple, however, he soon realizes his adorable smile and golden curls won’t cut it with this one. No, she likes something different: brains.

Word count: 4.7K.

A/N: Pretty self-indulgent piece. I've been obsessed with Anakin's engineering brain ever since I got into Star Wars and this idea had be floating around for a whileeeee. Hope you all enjoy reading it, as much as I enjoyed writing it!

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You liked smart guys.

It wasn’t a kink per sé. You just couldn’t see yourself hooking up with someone with no brains, let alone establishing a committed relationship with them. You were swoon by guys with deep thoughts and admirable speech skills. The type of man that would go for a whisky instead of a beer, or use real shoes instead of plain sneakers.

You being a snob might have to do with your upbringing, after all you were the daughter of two scholars and professors of one of the most prestigious universities of Coruscant. You were raised to be logical and love intellectual conversations. You wouldn’t- No. You couldn’t see yourself enjoying a space with someone with a low IQ.

That was the reasoning behind taking the internship in the Jedi Temple’s library as part of your college voluntary program. You had to volunteer a certain amount of hours in order to graduate from your Journalism degree with honors.

You thought that even though this wasn’t exactly the area in which you were specializing, you would soak up some of the ancient knowledge of the Order, even make some great connections for the future. And so far it has been just that: A great experience. You got to read some really cool books and in the hours where no one would come, you got to finish some school work. The Jedi who would visit the library were nice and kind, always polite with a big smile. You even grew really fond of a young Togruta padawan that would spend her breaks in between training devouring books.

It was calm and quiet.

Until the storm broke through the door.

“Is this the one you’re looking for?” You yelled to Ahsoka as you climbed down the stairs with the title she asked for.

“Yes! Thank you, y/n!” She gave you a hug and ran to her table to start reading about the swamps in Dagobah.

You returned to your desk and kept registering the book’s codes into the control sheet when a loud sound made you look to the door, the one that was violently being thrown to open room for a tall, curly-haired man with dark robes.

You would recognize those robes anywhere. In reality, anyone from any point of the galaxy would recognize them.

Anakin Skywalker.

One of the few exceptions of Jedi men who didn’t live up to the sophisticated standard of the Order’s image. And definitely someone you would prefer to stay away from. For some reason he was the favorite warrior of the people; the citizens would line up in front of the Temple to scream “Hero with no fear” to that pretentious douchebag.

He was fine.

As what most people would call courageous, you would say careless. To others he was passionate, to you he was irrational. Not to mention how idiotic and unsubordinated he was; always talking back and doing things his way, ignoring what the guidelines said.

You didn’t like him. You didn’t like him at all. For that you were thankful that he never set foot into your sacred place. Until that doomed day.

“C’mon, Snips.” He shouted, approaching the desk where she sat. “We need to go. Council just called.”

“Can I have five more minutes? I’ve barely read anything about where we are going!” Ahsoka whined.

“You don’t need to read anything, we will find out anything that’s necessary there.” He huffed, finding his apprentice’s actions ridiculous.

You quietly sighed and rolled my eyes. Of course.

“Fine… but y/n really took her time fetching it for me.” She exhaled annoyed and closed the book.

Your eyes remained glued to your task at hand, not willing to look up and be involved in some type of pending argument.

“Who’s y/n?” Anakin scoffed rather loudly.

“Y/n! The volunteer?” Anakin frowned at the short explanation and shook his head in a negative motion. “You know, y/n! C’mon Skyguy, follow me.”

No, please no, you whispered to your insides.

“Hey, y/n!” You heard Ahsoka’s little footsteps running to where you were.

“What can I do for you, Soka?” You answered, still pretending that you were too busy to move your head from its position.

“Skyguy hasn’t met you. Here, Anakin, y/n. She helps us out here in the library.”

“Ahsoka, we’re not supposed to be having social meetings, we need to go-” You finally gazed up and in that moment, Anakin and you made eye contact for the first time; it was intense. It felt like something clicked for him. “You must be Y/n.” Anakin shook his head lightly, hinting a little smirk as leaned over your table with fixed eyes.

Hell, no.

“Yes, I am. How may I help you?” You were bitter, totally unbothered by his chiseled cheekbones, or his gorgeous hair, or his plumped lips. Not even the scar had any effect whatsoever. He was an ass and that was automatically a turn off for you.

“I’m sorry I haven’t met you. You must be new.” He explained with dreamy eyes, subtly checking you out. You cursed the moment you decided to come in today with a blouse who had a bit of a cleavage. “I’m Anakin. Anakin Skywalker.”

“Actually, I’ve been here for almost two months now.” You suppressed the soul-eating need to roll your eyes.

“Oh, really? Sorry, I don’t come here much.” He leaned over even more, trying to keep eye contact even when you sat down.

“Obviously.” You whispered on the low.

“Excuse me?” Anakin frowned, interrupting his beam to pout with confusion.

“Nothing.” You smiled widely with a fake grin.

“Okay…” His frown deepened before a smirk broke out his lips. “Maybe I will make it a habit and visit more often.” He shrugged his shoulders, tilting his head to the side, deciphering the effects of his statement on you.

“You should.” You looked at him and gave him a side-smile, making his eyes sparkle. “Books are good for you.” You returned to check the order of nabooian books on your computer.

“Yeah, books are cool but there are other things I would much rather check out.” He smirked shamelessly at you, the back-handed comment flying way over his head.

You felt like gagging. Not the good kind.

Before you could come up with a clever response and shut him down for good, Ahsoka spoke from behind him.

“Ugh, gross! Let’s go!” The kid dragged him out by his clothes and before he disappeared through the glass door, he winked at you.

That was the first time you have seen him. First of many, many more.

Since the day your paths crossed, he took every fleeting moment to come and “read”, when in reality it was just him eating, or drawing or doing anything but opening a book. Taking advantage of your breaks, or whenever you returned to your seat after doing rounds, he would come over and make conversation. About his battles, his accomplishments, his close-calls to death… or about random facts he collected from his missions and travels; Anything that would maybe impress you.

And when he wasn’t doing that? He would drown you in compliments, to see if in fact, you soften up to him. Anakin was already aware of your no-so-secret disgust towards him the day he caught one of your eye rolls.

Did he care? No.

He was persistent: admiring your hair, loving the way you had styled it in a little bun (even though it was because the heat was eating you alive). He would ask about the tasks you were performing, sucking at pretending to be interested in hearing about organizing books in alphabetical order.

And it would have maybe worked; his good looks combined to his natural charisma were enough to make any mortal melt at his sight. You almost combust when you saw him carrying some wood boards into the library, the primal part of you rejoicing at the sight of his strong muscles stretching. The man was eye candy, whether you like it or not.

But, boy, were you tough.

Anakin Skywalker was not your cup of tea to say the least. You wouldn’t collaborate in his attempts to get to know you. You were so uninterested in finding out more about him when you had already scanned him. Just a way-too-handsome-for-his-own-good guy who was lucky enough to be born as the Chosen One, because otherwise, he would have never made it in the Order. He was determined, you would give him that.

His approaches were never creepy or invasive enough to make you uncomfortable, only to drive you wild. Even when he was the worst part of your day, you had to keep the polite but distant charade going on, in order to protect your job. Your disgust towards him, instead of hurting him, amused him. He liked challenges and you were freaking Mission Impossible. Although he also saw the flaws in you: a pretentious prick girl who had probably achieved everything in her life thanks to nepotism. But he could see past that.

Because, boy, were you hot.

And he was sure you liked it nasty.

Underneath your goodie-two-shoes clothes hid the true you: he knew you loved being treated like a filthy slut.

“Hello, y/n!” Ahsoka squealed in an excited voice. You two have grown to adore each other.

“Hey, Soka!” You responded happily, finishing to put some encyclopedias on a shelf. When you turned around, you saw she wasn’t alone. “Oh… good afternoon, Anakin.”

“Nice to see you too, y/n.” Anakin huffed in a sarcastic voice before strolling to where you were, Ahsoka following close behind. “Is that a new shirt? It suits you.”

“No, it’s the same white button up shirt that I’ve always used.” You smiled and turned around to roll your eyes in peace. He was too busy devouring your bosom behind the fabric to ever notice the barrier between his eyes and your skin.

“Y/n, do you think you could grab me a book about loreeks? I’m doing a little presentation about them for my science class.” Ahsoka asked you with a sweet voice.

“Oh sure… just let me look oveeeer…” You walked, stretching the words as you searched in the countless sections. “...here. It must be on one of these shelves.” You announced when you entered the exotic animals aisle.

Digitating the code on your scanner you found out it was in one of the tallest shelves, only reachable with a ladder. Right when you were about to move it, Anakin came in.

“Don’t worry, Y/n. I’ll get it.” And he used the Force to bring the book down. “Here you go Snips, study hard.” He nudged her head, annoying her.

“Yeah, I guess… but it’s Friday. Can I read after I hang out with the other padawans? Barris and Meelo are going skating!” She gave her best puppy eyes, to which Anakin agreed, after giving it little to no thought.

“You didn’t have to give her the book, I could have done it.” You waited for Ahsoka to leave before dropping the bomb.

“Easy there, kitten. I was just helping out.” He furrowed his eyebrows. As if the unnecessary nickname wasn’t enough to drive you mad. Looking down, he saw the rest of your outfit and lingered his eyes more than necessary in your short, black skirt. “On second thought, I might have let you do it.” He smirked confidently.

“Just stay out of my way, okay?” You growled, walking away from him to your desk, not without bumping your shoulder with his on your way out.

“What the hell is your problem?” He asked with an incredulous face.

You were done. The build-up from the past month was beginning to choke down your sense of decency. Not to mention that your day was already going terrible before he appeared: the droid that would always help you out was broken, significantly delaying your work day. Also, it was laundry day and you had to use your uncomfortable lingerie.

“You know what, Skywalker?” You turned around with raised eyebrows. “You’re my problem.” He opened his eyes in bewilderment. “I don’t like you. I don’t appreciate you coming in, all macho-” You made a mocking manner. “-acting like a goddamn superhero, only after cleaning up the mess you created in the first place.” You crossed your arms in your chest.

“I’m a general, kitten, and I can assure you the war it’s not my fault.” He scoffed, he used the nickname again, knowing it would press your buttons.

“And how many times have you messed it up bigger than it was?” You squinted your eyes, only to see him run out of words. “That’s what I thought.” You came back to digitating codes. “It’s like you don’t think. You are just a machine run by adrenaline and praise.” You finally rolled your eyes in front of him without shame. You tried to run down the reports that C7, your assistant droid would do, only to fail and almost delete everything in your computer. “And I can assure you I have bigger problems than dealing with you!”

“Okay, back down-”

“Fuck! Fuck! Fuck!” You yelled, getting desperate and throwing a tantrum at the device. You had enough for the day. You could leave, given that no one would come over this late, but your sense of responsibility prevented you from going home before finishing your work load. “I fucking hate this system!”

“Let me see-”

“Don’t! Just don’t, okay?” You swatted his hand away. “I’m not in the mood.”

“Could you stop being so stuck-up and let me help you?” He raised his voice, stepping up close to tower you. His eyes were on fire and you could sense that your previous comments did get to him, but for some reason outside of your understanding, he was still willing to help.

“Fine.” You chewed the words in your mouth, stepping down as you glared at him, giving him space to analyze the situation.

Instead of leaning down the computer, he went directly to C7, who lingered weakly on the side of your desk. He picked him up and put it on the table, moving him around his hands to examine the droid. He hummed after a couple of minutes, putting the mechanical body at eye level. “I see.”

“See what? What is it?” You pressed, trying to pick a glance from over his shoulder.

“I’m going to need my tools.” He murmured, dropping the droid back again.

“Wh-”

“I’ll be right back.” He exclaimed, before heading to the door in a rush.

“Wait! What?” You shouted, the shadow of his body the only thing visible.

You stayed alone for about fifteen minutes. You even got to thinking that he was pulling a prank on you, after yelling at him. But you stayed there, because well… what else would you do? You were beginning to fall asleep as you played with paper clips, when you heard the door being opened again.

“Finally! I thought you had left!” You sighed in relief, pushing your body off your desk.

“I was getting my tools, I told you.” He frowned, lifting the heavy, dark red box to the white marble. “Now let’s bring this one back to life.” He smiled, before busting the carcass open.

It took Anakin less than what you waited for him to get C7 up and running again. He flipped panels, snapped cables and pressed buttons, at an order that seemed random to you, until C7’s mechanical eyes opened again.

“Oh my God!” You laughed in disbelief. “He’s functioning again!”

Anakin smiled down at the table, as he finished up adjusting some screws. C7 sat up, analyzing his surroundings before getting up and going straight back to work.

“I-I-” You were speechless. How did he do that? So fast? “I can’t believe you just did that.” You mumbled, still looking at C7 like it was a ghost. “Thank you, Anakin.” You turned around with apologizing eyes, twitching an embarrassed smile.

“No problem. His transmitter was disconnected from the main system. I had to fix his-” The next couple of things that he mentioned sounded like pure gibberish to you, but he was very firm, so it must be true. Right? Sensing your bafflement, he spilled facts slower and quieter until he stopped talking, finalizing with a dry smile. “Yeah, it was nothing.”

He was starting to pack everything in his toolbox again and you had a pending need to say something. However, you didn’t know if you should kick off with a real apology or-

“How did you know all that?” So a pop quiz it was. In your defense, you were genuinely curious about the abilities he had just demonstrated. Mindblown, to be more specific.

“About what?” He furrowed his brows, closing the box but leaving on the table.

“About the transmitter, and the restraining bolt, and- and-” You were running out of technical terms.

“Mechanics are second nature to me at this point.” He shrugged his shoulders, picking up the box. “I know everything about the topic, so, it was an easy fix. I’d have rearranged his central system if I had the missing part, but it’s very specific. What I did will do for now, though.”

He was about to leave when he noticed the way you were leaning on the table, head on top of your fist to pay close attention to him. You were murmuring almost unhearable “uh-huh”s, totally lost in his words.

“Sooo, you know mechanics.” You were such a hypocrite, you couldn’t stand the man fifteen minutes ago and now you were drooling over the sight of him explaining complicated shit to you. Snob. “You often fix things?” You tried to investigate, see if the throbbing happening between your legs was worth pursuing.

“Sometimes… I often go to the hangar and repair the damaged ships or flip them.” He grinned without teeth. “The techs often ask for me. They say I have an eye for these things. Been working on droids since I was a kid, so.” Anakin wasn’t trying to brag, but his ample knowledge in mechanics was something that he prided himself on.

“That seems like a lot of work.” You continued the small talk, slowly losing yourself over this spontaneous crush.

“It can get tricky.” He dismissed, beginning to notice the glint on your eyes. He recognized the way your irises had darkened: He got those fuck-me eyes wherever he went. “Still haven’t found something I can’t fix.”

But it was involuntary. The fact that he was an expert on a matter as hard as mechanics scratched a part of your brain; It flipped a switch inside of you. Anakin was a different man under your eyes now. He was smart, hella smart.

“Gosh, that’s so impressive.” You giggled like the girls that would flirt at him. Pathetic. But you quickly regained control, not before sucking up some courage and getting closer to him, posing more seductively this time. “That brain of yours sure hides lots of secrets.”

He hadn’t quite figured out why the change of heart, so it took him a moment to replay your evening together. It lasted a bit more than he liked to admit, but it hit him. Of course. An arrogant smile cracked his face. Of course you would be attracted to someone who was a master of something you consider relevant. After all, you liked to consider yourself an “intellectual”. Just to test his theory, he consciously started to brag about something else… something that would have your panties in a bunch if his hypothesis was correct.

“Wanna know another one?” He cocked an eyebrow, resting his elbow on the table to stand inches away from your face.

Your face shined with a slight pink blush, but it was the way you bit your lip that drove him crazy. That and your enthusiastic nod. “Yeah.”

“There’s a reason behind why I’m the best pilot of the fleet. And it’s not just because of my background as a pod racer or the Force.” He whispered, snickering at how soft your eyes had grown. “It’s actually because… I use physics.”

“Physics?” You almost moaned.

“Yeah, physics.” He repeated, moistening his lips, a thing your eyes followed. “Self-taught, just like with mechanics.”

That ripped a subtle whimper out of you. Well, not subtle to him.

“You-you understand math?” If it wasn’t because you were visibly squeezing your thighs at the newly acquired information, he would be completely offended that you thought he was dumb as fuck.

“Love em.” He muttered, his intense stare glued to you, as his fingers put a string of hair behind your ear.

Like thunder, you were rushing to capture his lips and show him just how hot you thought he was now. Anakin freezed at first, taking aback by your sudden demonstration of affection, but when he understood that you were willingly -and enthusiastically- giving yourself to him, he wasted no time to embrace you back.

Wet kisses splashed everywhere; it was fucking mess. You hung onto his shoulders while he groped all of your body, starting with your sweet hips, fondling your ass like it was his personal stress ball and finally landing on your waist. You pressed against him shamelessly, but in reality, how much shame could you still have when the man’s tongue was down your throat? The only thing you knew with certainty was that the sucking sounds and moans you both dropped were intensifying the already sex-filled atmosphere.

“Anakin.” You tried to sound normal, but your voice was failing just like your knees were. “W-why haven’t you gone to a proper school? Maybe get a degree?”

Was that seriously so important to you? The opinion of others? Anakin questioned in his own head.

Anakin was the kind of person that wasn’t susceptible to the opinion of others, especially regarding his own image. He was sure of the shit he knew and didn’t need anyone validating that for him. No expensive universities, no uptight professors; Obi-Wan was more than enough. Nonetheless, he had found a shortcut to get inside your pants and God as his witness, he was gonna use it.

“Y/n.” He snickered right in your face, drinking in the power. “I don’t care about any of that. I'm a certified engineer, that’s how I got to build this myself.” Removing the leather, he revealed his mechanical limb to you, wiggling his fingers.

It was fancier than you ever thought a mechanical hand could be. Black with touches of gold; it was elegant and sophisticated, way more advanced than any technology you had ever seen in the orthopedics research field. And you knew it well, your mom was an orthopedic surgeon.

It was no surprise to him that after spilling that last fact you were now shamelessly grinding on his half-hard. The fact that he was an engineering mastermind was such an aphrodisiac. And as much as he wanted to have another taste of your full, pink lips, the ones he often imagined enveloped around his dick while you scolded him, Anakin wasn’t willing to make the first move.

You were going to have to beg for it.

“Anakin?” Your hands flattened on his pecs, back arching when he cupped your cheek with the cool durasteel prosthetic, kneading against it with soft eyes. He must have noticed how captivated you were by his invention.

“Yeah, baby?” He continued the soft ministrations up and down your cheek, redirecting your gaze to his face whenever your eyes would deviate to his artificial limb.

“You- Uhm, you built it from scratch?” You gulped when his thumb inched closer to your mouth, rubbing your bottom lip and pulling it open.

Little obedient you put no resistance, and instead, stuck out your wet tongue to happily receive his digit into your warmness. But this time it was his index, the one you were bobbing your head into, eye contact not faltering even when you were practically giving oral to his hand. Anakin smiled pleased at your enthusiasm for pleasuring him and added another finger for you to lubricate.

“From scratch.” He nodded, lustful irises boring into you. “Designed it too.”

You moaned around him, feeling content with being sandwiched between his firm torso and your desk, and with your mouth being fucked by his fingers. Saliva smeared all over your chin, you whined pitifully when your lips were no longer stuffed. On the contrary of leaving you all hot and bothered, Anakin lowered those same fingers to your leaky cunt, pushing your underwear aside for easy access.

He groaned when he first inserted a finger, your gasping a sign for him to slow down. “Baby, you’re tight.” He seemed to love that about you.

After adjusting to the size of his strong index finger, Anakin breached in with his middle one, repeating the process of you getting used to the coldness and girth all over.

“A-Anakin.” You closed your eyes, involuntarily standing on your tippy toes.

“That’s right, you’re doing so well. Taking my fingers like a true champ.” He bit down a condescending smile. “Atta girl.”

The initial discomfort was just a milestone you had to overcome to succumb to the pleasure that it was being fucked by Anakin Skywalker’s metal hand. His frigid thumb came to roll over your bundle of nerves, helping you relax into him and enjoy the sensation of fully riding his hand.

“That’s it. Fuck my hand just like that, kitten.” He chuckled, finding a spot on your neck to latch on, leave a little souvenir of your encounter, and hide his pitiful laugh.

Kisses were peppered along your exposed throat, your clavicle and jaw, his long eyelashes tickling you and making you clench around his metal hand tighter. Whilst you worried about not whining too loud for anyone to enter the library, Anakin was pumping his fingers at such an unholy pace to complicate your task.

“Shhh, baby. You need to be quiet. Wouldn’t like for anyone to come in. You could lose your job.” He mocked with a side smile and you had to gripped his bicep to keep your balance. “Could you imagine? Getting caught having sex at work? With a Jedi?”

You could perceive that the trespassing of the pseudo-celibacy Jedi code was turning him to no end, the mischievous glimmer in his eyes getting stronger when he said the last sentence.

“W-We’re not having sex.” You corrected him, like it mattered. Like having him knuckles deep into you was somehow less frowned-upon than to have actual coitus.

That made him laugh and you wiggled underneath him, fighting to not let your tears fall.

“You just wait.” His lips ghosted over yours, his breath fanning over your heated face. The increase of the movements of his hand was a sign that he had noticed the contractions around his digits, fully aware that you were close. “Ready to come, baby? Gonna gush all over me?”

You nodded, biting your swollen lip, losing the battle against your tear duct. Anakin used his other thumb, the one that was not torturing your clit, to liberate your abused lip. His mouth lowered to capture yours in a hot kiss, this tongue sliding on your inside until it hit your throat. So deep into you that you would never forget his taste; so deep you will never be able to deny him.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck!” You whimpered against his smile when you reached your peak, dissolving into this meaningless mass between his arms. “Anakin…” You rode out your climax, still rocking your hips to prolong the pleasure.

Anakin waited until you regained some composure to help you fix your clothes, putting back your underwear as he found it and lowering your skirt. His actions had you frowning: Weren’t you two gonna fuck? You were already mentally prepared to welcome his enormous cock in your tiny canal.

He grinned at your puppy eyes and adorable pout, your flustered state funnier than it should be. It was almost enough to break him. But someone had to give you a lesson.

“At the end of the day, I’m just a soldier, Y/n. An incompetent one, according to you.”

Before you could protest that, he was tilting his head in an accusatory manner. Like saying: Don’t even try it. And before leaving with his head high, he spat:

“My apologies if that’s not fancy enough for you, ma’am.”

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wlwkiryuu · 1 month

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juri is simultaneously the coolest council member and the most pathetic. she effortlessly picks up literally any skill at prodigy-level. one of her closest friends is a twelve-year-old boy. she's so confident in her identity as a lesbian that she makes the girl characters question their sexualities by just existing. despite being good at literally everything her hobbies mostly consist of long, brooding showers and projecting her insecurities onto everyone around her through cryptic speeches and stories that are sometimes so cryptic that even characters WITHIN a show as weird as rgu don't know what the hell she's talking about. she is objectively incredibly awkward (Your Ball? My Ball) but given she's surrounded by a bunch of equally pretentious teenagers she just becomes much cooler by comparison. she sees through others' bullshit by accepting her own bullshit. girl is BUILT on a card house of lies that can blow away in the wind at any moment if her own stubbornness and denial were not singlehandedly tying it down. she's just as effortlessly a sopping wet cat as she is a Cool Girl™. need more people to understand this

#like can you believe people think juri is the cool collected one. she's so .#and the thing is she's not even like GOOD at hiding it it's just that everyone around her is between the ages of twelve to sixteen.#anyways. we need more pathetic juri content. more autistic failgirl juri content even #juri arisugawa

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fuckyeah-bears · 2 months

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not that i truly care what rando losers on tumblr dot com think about me but i did just get an obnoxious as fuck message telling me about how internet activism and sharing things online isn't actually activism, trying to shame me into not posting as much or "torturing myself" by watching and sharing pictures and videos of what's going on in gaza. and it pissed me off enough to say this:

One, Palestinians have asked people to share and boost their content. That is a direct fucking ask from people in Gaza and Palestinians around the world. I will keep watching and sharing these photos and videos because it is what we have been asked to do by the people who are themselves experiencing genocide. Yes, it is depressing, yes it emotionally and mentally fucks me up. 100%. But i will keep doing it.

Two, literally none of you have ANY fucking idea what i am doing in real life to fight for Palestinian liberation. I don't need anyone on tumblr dot com's validation or approval and i'm certainly not stupid enough to dox myself online when every zionist shitbag, the police, and every employer out there is already trying to do that. but believe me when i say i have dropped pretty much everything else in my life to fight as hard as i fucking can to stop this genocide and work towards the Palestinian liberation.

Three, everyone needs to be doing shit in real life to fight to end the genocides going on right now. Only posting online does not count as activism, true. So take your conversations offline as well. Talk to people you know about Palestine, Sudan, and Congo. Read books and learn the histories. Write to and/or call your elected officials and government leaders and even the fucking bureaucrats. Join local solidarity and action groups working towards Palestinian liberation: Dissenters; DSA; JVP; SJP; AMP; IfNotNow are all US based groups that have local state chapters (idk too many groups outside of the US, sorry international friends). Participate in BDS, personally boycotting brands yourself, demanding your schools, workplaces, organizations, institutions, and governments divest from Israel. Attend rallies and protests and disruptions and vigils. Write to your local, state, and larger newspapers and demand they cover this genocide without bias, call them out for their shitty zionist reporting; write op-eds and letters to the editors. Sign up for webinars. If you can't leave the house or attend in-person events, you can make signs and banners for people and groups who can go. Start or join a campaign to pass a ceasefire resolution in your town/city; testify at town/city council or public comment about it & write to your local elected leaders. Donate to Palestinian and and relief orgs and charities if you can. And yeah, keep fucking sharing and uplifting and boosting Palestinian posts and voices online. The media is trying to repress the fuck out of them, so you we need to do our part to make sure their voices are seen and heard as widely and as loudly as possible.

And four, don't be a pretentious dick to strangers on the internet. You don't know shit about what people are doing in their real lives. This is just common fucking courtesy

Free Palestine 🇵🇸

#free palestine 🇵🇸#free palestine #palestine #free gaza #gaza #gaza genocide #eyes on sudan #congo genocide #free congo #free sudan #from the river to the sea palestine will be free #🇵🇸

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thatfeelinwhenyou · 8 months

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KINDRED — 09

It’s your final year of highschool, and your only goal is to graduate top of your cohort, as usual. Except as student council president, your advisor can’t seem to leave you alone. What happens when you take Decelis Academy’s top student, their star athlete and put them in front of a camera?

smau + written (2.4k words)

❥･• episode 9 — operation we-don’t-really-hate-each-other

As the production crew ushers you into the room, your heart races with excitement. The once-deserted classroom has undergone a remarkable transformation, now standing as a confessional studio bathed in the warm glow of overhead lights. An intricate web of cameras and meticulous lighting equipment encircles two inviting stools, positioned neatly right next to each other. The aura within is electric, humming with a blend of excitement and tension.

Amidst this carefully orchestrated symphony of activity, the leading producer paces about, her brows furrowed in concentration, as she meticulously scrutinises the script clutched in her hands for what you assume is the nth time. Nearby, a small brigade of cameramen work with precision, each minor adjustment made to capture the most exquisite angles. And it hit you—this is really happening.

You nod attentively as you receive instructions from the crew that they will be filming the opening sequence to the documentary today, asking only a few questions to you and none other than Yang Jungwon.

Fully embracing the captivating allure of reality TV, complete with its intriguing and heart-pounding suspense, the producer resolutely quashes your hopeful plea for a sneak peek at those darn interview questions.

Frankly speaking, you are a bundle of jitters. It was known to the whole school that you were the embodiment of preparation; concepts securely etched into your mind, and meticulously crafted notes that served as your guide through yours exams. But now, standing right smack in the middle of the room, you're like a lost puppy wandering into uncharted waters. Yet, determined to guard your vulnerability from prying eyes, particularly those of Yang Jungwon's, you employ a carefully constructed façade of coy self-assurance.

And then, as if on cue, he materialises—a figure cast in a demeanour that is both effortlessly casual and frustratingly unperturbed. A pang of annoyance mingles with the surge of nerves as he nonchalantly strolls into the room (just five minutes late, as always).

"Yang Jungwon?" The words cut through the air, tinged with a hint of impatience. "Take a seat, would you? We're on a tight schedule." The crew member ushers him with practised efficiency toward the vacant stool at your side. A sharp, involuntary cringe tugs at your features as your gazes inadvertently lock for a fleeting moment. It's like this weird mix of nerves and irritation—a little tug-of-war playing out in plain sight.

"Shall we begin?" The authoritative resonance of Producer Choi's voice cuts through the room, casting a spell of anticipation over the set. Settling gracefully onto her stool, she assumes a poised stance behind the camera. You offer a subtle nod, a silent testament to your readiness that doesn’t escape her notice. Jungwon's eyes, however, roll in a gesture that practically screams his disdain for what he perceives as your pretentious façade of a good-girl persona.

"Alright, let’s kick things off." Producer Choi declares, her tone dripping with intrigue. Her gaze sweeps over you both, the opening chord of this unforeseen duet. "We've got a series of questions lined up, and all you need to do is answer them as best you can."

“First off, let's get those introductions going." With a pointed gesture, Producer Choi directs her attention toward Jungwon, signalling for him to lead the charge.

"Yang Jungwon, age nineteen, Taekwondo athlete," he utters, his words a blend of confidence and haste. He concludes with an almost reluctant scoff, a rebellion against formalities he can't entirely suppress. The edge of his scoff doesn't go unnoticed; his message is clear even as he chooses to ignore your presence. You, however, are not one to be silenced. Rolling your eyes with a mix of exasperation and amusement, you address the cameras with a poised smile.

"Greetings, dear viewers. I am Park Y/N, a final-year student at Decelis Academy and student body president for the Decelis Student Council. It’s an honour to be here.” Your words hold an unspoken challenge, one pointed towards Yang Jungwon and the inexplicable sense of rivalry the two of you built up.

The camera falls silent as Producer Choi brings her decisive hand into play, her frustration tangible. "Jungwon, I need more enthusiasm, and Y/N, this isn't a grand ceremony; there’s no need for the formalities." The faint sound of a stifled laugh brushes against your ears, a reaction you steadfastly choose to ignore. "Let’s try that again."

"Moving on to the next question, could you each briefly describe your after-school curriculum?”

"For me," you begin with a candid note in your tone, "if there's no student council business demanding my attention, I’ll usually be in the library, my unofficial second home. I catch up on lectures and assignments there." You let out a small, self-aware chuckle. "I guess everyone in the school knows where to find me if they need something-"

"Oh, absolutely, she's practically a monk. Always got her nose in a book and apparently, other people’s businesses." Jungwon's voice cuts in with the precision of a finely honed blade, his words tinged with an undercurrent of amusement. The interruption draws a sigh of irritation from you, but you forge ahead. You're quick to retake the spotlight, your voice a dance of resolve and exasperation.

"I suppose you could say that. With free time on my hands, I've come to believe in putting it to good use." A casual shrug punctuates your response, and you cast a sidelong glance at the boy seated beside you, a mischievous smile playing on your lips.

"I mean, why not, right?" You continue, your words a challenge woven in playful nonchalance. "If there's time to spare, I'd rather channel it into something productive." The tilt of your chin conveys an invitation for his response—an unspoken duel of words and wits. You throw him an artful smile, a silent promise of your tenacity to match his.

"If we're talking productivity," Jungwon retorts, his words a measured challenge, "I'm an athlete. So, after-school training is a part of my routine. Not everyone's got their head buried in books.” His gaze locks with yours, and the tension between you is palpable.

It's like a duel of wills—a silent battle neither of you intends to back down from. The intensity is so thick, it's as if you're caught in a staring contest, each vying for the upper hand. The world around you fades into the background, leaving only the simmering tension that crackles like electricity.

The only interruption is a slight cough, and the reality of the situation rushes back as awareness dawns that you're being captured on camera. Reality snaps back into focus, and you're acutely aware of the weight of expectations resting on your shoulders. The watchful eyes of not only the production crew but also the prestigious universities, the very ones your mother has been weaving dreams of, are watching your every move.

Your glare softens, your defiance tempered by a reminder of your surroundings. With a subtle adjustment of your posture, you manage a quiet apology under your breath, a concession to the circumstances.

Jungwon, on the other hand, wears a triumphant smirk, his victory achieved by stirring a reaction out of you, evidently content that he managed to get under your skin.

"There seems to be some tension lingering between you two. Care to elaborate on your relationship?" Producer Choi's inquiry comes with a raised eyebrow and an undercurrent of curiosity clearly dancing in her eyes. The unspoken rivalry that simmers between you and Jungwon has clearly captured her attention.

Unbeknownst to her before casting the two of you, this uncharted territory has presented itself as a thrilling discovery, painted across her face in a delighted smile. The promise of raw content and untamed drama is endless—the very essence of what a reality TV show thrives upon.

"We're exactly as you see it," Jungwon answers, his voice cool and his words laced with a mix of indifference and disdain. He rises from his seat with an air of defiance, slinging his bag over his shoulder. "No relationship, just mutual detestment." His tongue clicks with emphasis, an unspoken challenge hanging in the air. "Are we done here? I've got places to be."

Producer Choi concedes to his request, her words are a concession to the present circumstances. "I suppose that’s enough for today. We'll reconvene after school at your respective activities." Her tone takes on a breezy cadence, but it's clear that her expectations won't be sidestepped.

"As we discussed, Mondays will be separate shoots, but to uphold our end of the bargain, we need both of you together for the rest of the week. Agreed?" Her assumption of authority, coupled with her audacity to steer the situation, is a stark contrast to the formality she adopts when conversing with your teachers. While annoyance simmers within you, you refrain from voicing your thoughts.

The feeling doesn’t seem to be an isolated thought when your gaze shifts to Jungwon, finding his eyes locked on yours. The unspoken words that sit on the tip of his tongue threaten to escape, his teeth grazing his lower lip in contemplation. However, he brushes off the impulse, and his exit from the classroom is marked by a subtle tension, with the cameras following closely behind him—a testament to the intricate predicament you've found yourselves in.

You, on the other hand, leave the classroom after wrapping up a few more questions. Missing your first period was already stressful enough, but there's something about Producer Choi that sets off alarm bells in your head, reminding you of those bossy characters you thought only existed in dramas.

Lost in thought, you walk down the deserted hallway, quickening your pace to make it to second period on time. Your distraction becomes even more apparent as you inadvertently pass by Yang Jungwon, leaning casually against the lockers.

"Park," his familiar voice halts you in your tracks, and you glance back to find him looking straight at you. Was he... waiting for you?

“What are you doing here? Don’t you have places to be?” You mock him, recalling his cold demeanor in the classroom. He scoffs in response, rolling his eyes, “Can we talk?”

"Depends. If you're here to lecture me about Taekwondo again, save it."

“As much as I would love to annoy you with my apparent obsession with my own sport, but no, it’s about the documentary.” Jungwon pushes himself off the lockers and walks over to you. Just then, from the corner of his eye, he spots the production crew turning the corner, and in a fit of panic, he grabs your hand and pulls you away from the building. Before you could even process it, he was already dragging you half-way across the campus.

“Let go! What is it that you can’t just tell me over text?” You manage to yank your hand free, irritation simmering. “It’s already bad enough that I have to put up with that tyrant of a producer; I really don’t need you adding to it.”

"Normally, I'd disagree, but thank fucking God you find that woman as irritating as I do."

“The way she spoke to us? Sure, I signed a contract, but I’m not her puppet.” He places a hand on his hip, an action oddly reminiscent of your grandmother when she would scold you for not visiting her more often. The image loiters in your mind as you stifle a laughter that unfortunately doesn’t go unnoticed by Jungwon.

“What’s so funny?” He raises his eyebrows, and you shake your head to brush him off, but it only fuels his curiosity even more. “I’m assuming you dragged me all the way here to discuss Producer Choi?” His annoyance is evident, as he nods vigorously. It's an unexpected sight—Yang Jungwon, the epitome of nonchalance, riled up by a woman not much older than him. It's kind of endearing, but you would rather die than admit that out loud, so you bury that atrocious thought in the back of your head.

“Speaking of which, she couldn’t even hide her delighted expression when she found out we practically hate each other-”

“Whoa, ‘hate’ is a pretty strong word. If that's your opinion of me, okay, but I definitely don't hate you. Just a minor difference." You spoke without thinking yet again, and although Beomgyu would be very disappointed if he were here with you, the sentiment is out there now.

Jungwon seems taken aback by your confession, hurriedly clearing his throat. "As I was saying, she's clearly trying to stir up drama, as if I'd willingly play along." He scoffs, crossing his arms in front of his chest, his tongue poking the insides of his cheeks.

“I know you’re taking a risk on this documentary, and don’t even bother denying it because I know you’re trying to gain publicity and favour.”

"How did you—did Sunoo tell you?"

"That's not the point; the thing is, I am too."

"And what university would even take YOU?" He rolls his eyes at your teasing, not bothering to argue.

"I'm an athlete, remember? A Taekwondoin on top of that. I have a really important competition next month, and God forbid that I be shown on national television as someone who picks fights with girls. It goes against the sport's values." He explains, trying to get his point across. Sadly, it flies over your head.

"Seriously? My point is that we need to act as if we don't hate—well, dislike—each other. I know we said we'd ignore each other, but now she's making you sit in for my trainings and me study with you in the library. It's physically impossible." He shudders at the thought of having to even step foot into that place, and though you really wish you didn’t have to be around him, Jungwon is right—there's no escaping this situation.

You sort of know you're heading down the deep end when Producer Choi insists on having you and Jungwon sit side-by-side in class, despite the documentary's official filming schedule commencing only after school. The array of cameras meticulously arranged around your classroom, ostensibly to capture mundane "B-Roll" footage, fuels your suspicions. Deep down, you're well aware that their true purpose is to capture any moment of vulnerability or connection between you and Jungwon.

It doesn't require a genius to discern their ulterior motive—they're determined to exploit your relationship for the camera's sake. The bizarre part is, this isn't even a dating show. The intention behind it all remains an enigma, leaving you to grapple with the looming uncertainty that now defines your academic life.

I guess you can say that ‘Operation We-Don’t-Really-Hate-Each-Other’ is a go.

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♡。·˚˚· ·˚˚·。♡

perm taglist. @hajimelvr @s00buwu @urmomssneakylink @grayscorner @bubblytaetae

taglist open! @uuzhanggggggg @missingemobeomgyu @jiawji @ocyeanicc @s7noo @asterizee @j1nniee @noascats @yunwonie @saturnmooonxx @enhaz1 @jiaant11 @clairecottenheart

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saionjeans · 21 days

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i like how in after the revolution it’s consistent that when they’re not wearing their student council student uniforms, touga and saionji both possess the world’s most pretentious & faggy fashion sense known to man.

saionji still wearing the cunty gay turtleneck and at one point also puts his hair in a classy little side ponytail. touga graduated from turquoise blouses paired with white jorts over pink tights (an insane outfit btw, who wears this) to a fancy little peacoat and long flowy scarf combo. either way, they are both making CHOICES.

….good choices? well, that’s debatable. but certainly choices nonetheless.

#u #after the revolution #touga #saionji #idk how miki would dress in casual wear but in my mind he’s wearing a little propellor cap #also if juri wore touga’s outfit she could probably pull it off tbh. alas touga. cannot pull off anything. he is simply too cringefail

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kellterntempest · 9 months

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in love with @cocoishere-23 ’s wonderful Sonic Prime Stone design. He definitely carries his Dr Deep like he weighs nothing

#reposting cause im finally unflagged now #stobotnik #sonic prime #my art #agent stone #dr deep #stone council #pretentious whole foods organic only no gmos smoothie drinking boyfriends #i heart them.

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beskarinhyperspace · 11 months

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Bad Day

"Everything you want."

AO3 | Wattpad // MASTERLIST

*Mature, Explicit, NSFW*

Anakin x fem.reader

Pure smut, he’s obsessed with you, possessive, dark anakin, sweet name calling, claiming, praising, teasing, ora! fem receiving, pinv, breeding k!nk, reader insert, no y/n, female reader, reader doesn't have a name

Word Count: 1.1k

A/N; I didn't expect the story to get this much attention. Tysm for all the love, you guys rock my fucking world.

+ Italics are thoughts. +

It was a bad day for Anakin, everyone was telling him what to do, what not to do. He just had another boring and useless meeting with obi-wan and the council. He was tired of it all. He knew the potential he had and didn’t want to waste it on some pretentious know it all who didn’t trust him and never seeing him more than an apprentice.

He needed to let it all out, he needed you.

Meanwhile you were in the basement of the castle, staying on the low low. Since you are on Anakin’s side people are staring at you weirdly. You also noticed the way he changed, you’re not blind but there’s no way in hell you’re leaving his side.

As you’re reading a book in your room, you get called out by another servant.

“The empress would like you to see her.” saying to you with a smile, peeking through the door frame.

You put your book back on your nightstand and get up from the bed. You sigh as you flatten the fabric of your dress, now all wrinkled from laying down. A long garment with long sleeve. The fabric was simple, made of a light natural color to blend in.

It’s been a few weeks since you’ve seen Anakin. You never really know how long his missions could take. Even if you knew how good of a fighter he was, you were always scared of something bad happening to him. Getting up the narrow staircase you open the door, moving to the kitchen. You can’t do your duties on an empty stomach right? Grabbing two cupcakes sitting on the counter, you remove the bottom wrapping, putting it in the trash before going out of the kitchen. You start to eat it immediately as you move to another set of staircases while trying to keep it all in your mouth. Turning the corner, you were too focused on opening the second one that you didn’t notice you were being followed.

“I didn’t know that cupcakes were suited for breakfast..” hearing a voice soft yet playful.

As you turn around you see him, his skin still dirty from his adventures. “Ani!”

He smiles, leaning closer to you. You can feel the salt on his cold lips as his warm tongue comes to play with yours. He breathing hard, as if it was his first time tasting you.

“When can you meet me?” voice rushed and raspy.

“In four hours.” closing your eyes to his hand caressing your hip.

He gives you one more kiss before you feel a hot and heavy sensation caressing your clit. “Too long..”

Taking your hand, he brings you through a nearby door locking the handle behind him. The room was a simple study with an arm chair, a little desk and lamp. Behind of it was this huge floor to ceiling window, with books all around over the rest of the walls. The place was small but perfect.

“You’ve been hunting my dreams since I left” speaking to you low and dangerous.

You bite your lower lip as he approaches you, hovering of you. You notice his tired eyes and multiple scratches over his face. His skin was tanner than the last time you saw him.

“I’m sorry is there a way I can make up for it?” as you're batting your sultry eyes to him.

He doesn't waste a second, removing his cape and weapon belt. You look at him with anticipation as he pushes you into the arm chair, pulling your dress up as he brings your butt to the edge. He leans down, pushing your panties to the side and takes your clit into his mouth. Humming as he finally gets to taste you fully. You don’t know how to respond to the surprising action. Having your legs open in a matter of seconds and putting your pussy on full display for him. You start to breathe harder as he’s passing his tongue in between your folds, savoring you sweet in his mouth. You can feel him grinning as he hears your desperate moans for him. Going back to suck on your pulsing clit, you feel a finger entering you and pushing upward to that amazing spot of yours, whining to him as the feeling becomes too much.

“I want it inside.” you ask finally opening your eyes halfway.

He looks at you from below, giving you his mischievous smirk. “Everything you want.”

He kisses the inside of your thigh, removing his grip from your legs. Getting his pants down, he lets out his beautiful thick cock already hard and ready for you.

You smile back to him knowing that there’s nothing in this galaxy better than what you have with him. Stars, he was your whole world. He would kill for you and you would do the same for him.

He comes down to kiss you softly as he squeezes your breast over the fabric of your dress.

You can hear him, barely a whisper, “You’re so beautiful love.” you feel him pump himself a few times before entering you full length, going in slow for you to adjust to him. “I will become the most powerful jedi.” feeling it all inside you he stops. “I will make you mine and show you to the world.” feeling his breathing on your lips from the closeness.

“But jedis can’t be with other people Ana..”

He starts moving, going out slow but slams it back in harder, “I don’t care, I will do what I want.”

You can’t control your moans as he begins thrusting inside you. Letting out some panting as he tries to munch your tits through the fabric. Squeezing and massaging them. Has he become mad?

You feel him angrily pounding you along with the smacking noises mixed with the sounds of your slick pussy filling up the small room. Moving quicker and faster he positions himself at an angle to be able to reach the roof of your entrance as he’s pressing on your lower stomach. Grunting and growling low, he tries to talk in between breaths.

“C-come fuor me” trying to keep the rhythm without coming just yet.

You let out desperate whimpers as you’re coming close, coating his cock further more with your juices.

“That’s it, c-come baby.” on the edge of his peek.

You let out a full deep open mouth moan as you come on him and so does he, when he sees you finally becoming undone underneath him, filling you up with his cum inside you.

He comes back to give several full mouthed kisses.

“Our kids will be the best jedis in the galaxy, just like their father.” stating as you pet his hair.

He smiles to you, resting his head a moment on your chest, trying to catch his breath and enjoying the feeling of your fingers caressing his head.

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tinfairies · 2 years

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aemond having a worship and breeding kink. him falling for a red priestess who thinks he’s the prince that was promised and wants to bear his child （＾ω＾）(like that scene with melisandre and jon but they do the deed indeed). i’m going to hell for this

Anon if you're going to hell for that, where the hell am I going then? 😳

We're also going to pretend that the Lord of Light and his followers are in Westeros at this time.

Aemond Targaryen x Fem!Reader

Content warning: smut

Minors DNI

You had arrived in Westeros, sent by the congregation of The Lord of Light. You were there to scope out the political weaknesses and religious boundaries.

You quickly made your way to the seat of the throne in King's Landing, finding yourself on the small council of the king. A spoiled pretentious drunk of a man.

Certainly this king Aegon could not be the Prince that was Promised. You had always imagined the Azor Ahai to be taller, more charming and definitely better with a sword.

Your doubts washes away when you met the kings brother. Perhaps the lord of Light was right in sending you to Westeros. You had the wrong prince.

You made fast work, worming your way in Aemond's daily affairs. Spending nearly everyday with him gaining intel.

He was very handsome, and kind. To you at least. Your red apparel was ways a stark contrast to his green and black. Everyone knew it was you two even from behind, just based on color and proximity alone.

Aemond soon asked you teach him some magic. He was a man faithful to his Seven, but he was willing to lose his religion for you.

You would tell him the songs of the Lord of Light, he would sit infatuated with how passionate you were about your work.

One night in his room, you told him of Azor Ahai and the prince that was Promised.

"So you think that I will end the eternal winter?" he asked skeptically.

" Not you, the son you will bare. Were you not listening?"

Aemond only heard part of that sentence.

"Who will bare me this son?" he asked smirking and moving closer.

You understood his insinuation. "Any woman fertile enough to impregnate."

"Are you able to breed?" he brushed your hair behind your ear as he got mere inches from your face.

You turned as red as your cloak, and stared into his eye.

"If I am who you wish to bare Azor Ahai then the Lord of Light commands it." you whispered placing your hands against his chest.

He kisses you feverishly, like a man starved.

You start to claw at the buttons on his shirt, he goes to unbutton it, never leaving your lips.

You throw off your cloak, once his shirt is off he goes for your bodice. Piece by piece his and your clothes drop to the floor.

Once you two were finally nude, he pulled back and took your body in.

"Gorgeous."

You blush and go to turn away, he grabs your chin and makes you look at him. "Ah ah. Don't hide from me." he kisses you again and pulls your hips against his. You gasp as his hard cock rubs your stomach.

He moves his arms down and picks you up by your waist effortlessly. You instinctively wrap your legs around him, hot cunt pressed against his abdomen. He dropped you on the bed and crawled over you.

He kissed up your body, biting and sucking at the skin, his fingers found their way to your cunt. He spread open your wet folds and began teasing your clit.

You moaned and thew your head back. He continued to tease. Eventually you started begging for him.

"Please, please I want you to fuck me. I want you to fill me up with cum."

Aemond hummed, relishing in her pathetic pleas. He pushed his fingers into you and started roughly pumping them.

You squirmed under him, gripping his arms. Whining and crying you begged some more.

He finally stopped teasing you, lining his cock up and pushing it into your eager cunt.

You moaned at the sudden intrusion, and he set a hard and fast pace. Aemond moaned into your neck, and you gripped his hair.

"Yes, yes please my prince. Fill me up, put your baby in me."

He growled and snapped his hips impossibly faster. He felt he was getting close.

"Take all of it my whore." His seed spilled into your cunt, you felt the hot liquid dripping out.

Both of you were breathing hard, sweat dripping from the both of you. He stared down at your flushed body and placed a hand on you stomach.

"Azor Ahai, hm?"

#house of the dragon #hotd #house of the dragon x reader #hotd imagine #hotd x reader #aemond targaryen #house of the dragon imagine #aemond targaryen x reader #got headcanons #game of thrones imagine #game of thrones #game of thrones headcanons #Game of thrones x reader #Got #got imagine #got x reader

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awhimproned · 8 months

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you don't understand guillermo and his arc

have i got your attention?

hello, my name is nia, and welcome to me opening a blog solely for the sake of yelling into the void my analysis/meta of the haha hehe silly vampire show.

Small introduction/index right before beginning:

Spoilers for s5 finale!

Re-framing of what wwdits is really about and setting the record straight as what to expect and what not to be angry about.

Discussing how Guillermo's arc of letting go of his vampirism isn't, in fact, a let down or a missed opportunity and quite the opposite, is in character for him, in line with his character arc, and wasn't "all for nothing".

Long ass post (not exaggerating), so click "read more" and buckle up. Here we go.

I have to start this by reiterating that first and foremost, this is a batshit insane comedy show with batshit insane, morally bankrupt (yet endearing) and complex characters. It's not interested in telling a story or a plot, it's not interested in being pretentiously deep, and I say that for the people who can't really come to terms with the format and that the show is going nowhere, because it's not supposed to be going anywhere, it's just the daily lives of vampires and their little adventures and sometimes struggles. In a weird way, it's slice of life.

This show isn't like Good Omens or Our Flag Means Death in which you're concerned with an overarching plot. Even season 4 and 5 seem to look like it has an overarching plot, the term you're looking for is contained theme of the season. It's like "villain of the week" format. Only for the seasons. S1 we had the baron, s2 we had vampire slayer guillermo, s3 we had the vampire council, s4 we had nadja's night club, s5 we had vampire guillermo -- and these are just very broad summaries.

There ISNT an overarching plot, it's the character arcs that are starting to pick up, which guillermo's is the strongest and most reoccurring.

It's episodic even when there's a theme and plot of a season, and it's meant to be bite-sized and contained and followable. Someone who doesn't know this show can watch one episode from season one and one from season three and it wouldn't be that jarring depending on the episodes, like, the cast were able to answer "what episodes would you recommend to someone who hasn't watched the show" on the tumblr live ask.

The writers and the producers of wwdits are concerned with making you laugh, exploring how insane and unexpected places they can take things with a cast of vampires of the past who haven't quite adapted to the modern times and are devoid of common sense and knowledge most of the time in a mockumentary style. Yes, you know this already, I know, it looks like I'm being patronizing or condescending.

But do you know, really? I'm talking to a certain demographic, so please don't take this personally.

What most of these people consider dropping the show over, like the reasons "nothing changes" or "things go back to the usual and it's getting old" or "they throw ideas away" or "serious stuff gets brushed over so quickly" don't consider that these are often done on purpose.

Half because of the format and that the documentary crew can't be there all the time to capture every little thing and character moments you are naturally given in a normal TV show/movie, and half because it's one of the core themes of the show, that nothing ever really changes and these are centuries old vampires who are so closed off to change. That's the thing. That's what it's all about and that's where all the jokes are stemming from.

In a normal comedy show, you might perhaps see the characters being unhinged together, but you would also get to see their most private and vulnerable moments, (like maybe brooklynn 99), and you take that as granted, it's sometimes spoon-fed through cinematography and what's purposefully caught in camera per director and writer choices.

wwdits follows a very clear show-don't-tell narrative of characters putting on a front for the cameras, and you have to read between the lines more often than not to figure out these unreliable narrators, otherwise you might miss some things and take it at face value.

one example of this in my opinion is the relation between laszlo, baby colin robinson, the bastard children he doesn't like to talk about and the baby he turned into a vampire. the latter is very much played as a joke, the bastards are throw away line by nadja, but when you take baby colin into the picture and how happy it made laszlo to be a father (no matter how questionable), how (questionably) amazing he was at it, and how losing baby colin robinson downright made him grieve and mourn (like. he abandoned nadja to look after this child), you get a clearer picture as to why laszlo might have made a baby into a vampire and why he doesn't like to talk about the children he's fathered. maybe it's because he wanted to be a parent at one point, maybe with a vampire baby he could have a child who wouldn't die. it seems deeper than it was at first glance, the complexity is hidden beneath the layers of vampires being funny assholes.

other times you have to not overthink it and learn to accept some things are purely for shits and giggles. no matter how many levels of fucked up they are on. it's literally no use discussing the morality or how wrong things are. and on a framework such as this, the running gag being characters being left somewhere when their plot-relevance is over (benjy, jim the vampire, derek, the hybrid creatures etc.) shouldn't come off as surprising or lazy writing. because that's it, that's the joke.

This isn't to say this is a get out of the jail free card for not having progression or development.

I'm just saying that the vampires getting into shenanigans and everything being okay in the end despite all the drama is the status quo, and if you're going to have a problem with "sunrise sunset" and are so impatient with the theme of change being explored at a slow pace, then this show is not for you.

You are perfectly welcome to be frustrated with everything resetting, but you also have to know this is what you signed up for. The show is both trying to tell you something using this storytelling device to navigate the inherent cycle of stagnated repetition of the vampires' lives AND showing you that things ARE changing at the end of every season, bit by bit.

It's entirely on you that you don't notice and/or care it wasn't in the way you wanted it to be.

Like what they did with Guillermo.

The consensus of the arguments I've seen on this site consist of:

they finally made him a vampire and took it away from him and it was for nothing

it wasn't explored enough and well-enough

it breaks canon for him to be so squeamish about killing when he's been committing atrocities the whole show and it's a lazy reason to turn him back

nothing came of it. it ruins his character

he should have stayed a vampire it's what he wanted and deserved all along

it doesn't make sense with the narrative, they are writing him so differently now like he suddenly doesnt want to be a vampire? his character arc peaked in s3

First question: have we been watching the same show?

I'm going to walk you through this step by step for analysis sake, bear with me.

Who is Guillermo de la Cruz at the beginning of the show?

He is a fucking loser.

He is a pushover, has no confidence, deep down he's become so twisted from all the resentment and spite built up from being so overlooked, underappreciated and being cast aside. He has no life, he pays to live there as a familiar, his entire life is dedicated to Nandor, he's so tiny, has no presence.

And we establish his main motivation and want: to become a vampire.

But why does he want to be a vampire? Antonio Banderas in Interview with a Vampire. This apparently "inspired Guillermo because he had never seen another Hispanic person onscreen as a vampire". Yes, he projected and self-inserted to Armand, yes we know.

When you look closer, you'll pretty soon understands he craves the power he'll receive once he becomes a vampire. He'll become cooler, "sexier" (like he says that he doesn't feel any sexier when he became a vampire), nobody can look down on him, he can finally be someone, leave the old, pitiful Guillermo behind, it's all he's betting on. He doesn't want to grapple with his problems, the sexuality he represses, the Catholic guilt; he wholeheartedly assumes he'll just be a new person once he becomes a vampire, and for that, he'll do anything. He doesn't want to be a vampire, he wants to be a new, burden-free, hot-girl-eternal summer Guillermo who will demand respect just by existing.

Vampirism is the get out of the jail free card for him. The easy way out of his flaws and insecurities.

There's something called character's want vs. need in writing. What a character wants may not always be what they need. This is perfectly portrayed with Guillermo. Becoming a vampire isn't necessarily what he needs.

What he needs is making peace with himself, growing, acceptance, love, establishing confidence, finding his power -- self-growth.

the problem is he thinks vampirism will automatically give these to him. it couldn't be farther from the truth. this is a typical case of thinking the grass is greener on the other side.

So, naturally, discovering he's a vampire slayer is ruining everything for Guillermo, setting him up against the vampires whom he's trying to be a part of, to be accepted and loved by. It's threatening his found family.

Even though it's the most competent, confident, sexiest, and in element he's ever been in his life. It's what he's best at, when he's doubting himself the least, when he shines the most, the abilities come to him from within.

And he can't allow himself to embrace it. He still thinks vampirism will give him what being a Van Helsing is already giving him. He's gaining his footing, sticking it to the vamps who don't appreciate him where they deserve it, standing up for himself, being sassy and cunty, opening up, GROWING.

Yet he doesn't see it.

He believes he'll be whole once he becomes a vampire. You see him benefit so much from the van helsing genes but not once does he embrace it or actually celebrate his identity, embrace himself and who he is when it's what made him bloom in the first place. HE DOESN'T SEE IT.

He wants to renounce being a vampire slayer. He says it in season 5 to the baron. He full on wants to give up what makes him, him.

Hell, the symbolism of being a vampire slayer getting in the way of his transformation by fighting off the vampirism is so ironic and symbolic at the same time:

He can't find his true self and what his heart truly wants and needs if he doesn't give up the idea of being a fucking vampire. His true self has been within all along.

Guillermo's arc didn't peak in s3, it wasn't even close to being completed, because he hasn't found himself yet, he hasn't accepted himself yet. He hates being a vampire slayer deep down for setting him against the vampires and what he wants to become. Yes, he went through tremendous growth. He was powerful, he gained agency. But it was because THE POWERS VAN HELSING DNA GAVE HIM ON A SILVER PLATE. It wasn't that he accepted it. It wasn't that he found a sense of self in it.

He just got a preview of what he could become, is all. It made him think he was ready to become a vampire. He would never choose to stay a human/vampire slayer before the events of s5, it's always been about the endgame for him.

And it's so sad because Nandor is like. So stoked about vampire slayer Guillermo. He's so proud and giddy about him "being a warrior" because he knows Guillermo better than anyone and just when and how he's at his best. It's just that Guillermo doesn't see it and Nandor does. Just like how he knows Guillermo wasn't ready to become a vampire and how hard he would really take to actually killing people.

In retrospective, season 5 was about things we want not really being the things we thing we want.

They show that guillermo has gained the things he's wanted -- the love and friendship of the vampires and them deeply caring for him, thinking of him as family just in the way he thinks of them as, their respect, and he didn't need to be a vampire to get that. He already has the power he craves deep down.

He doesn't see it. He's not aware of any of it, he's so laser-focused to what he wants that he hasn't figured out how to handle the ugly side of vampirism, he hasn't even thought of it -- because he doesn't see any bad in being a vampire. He's so enticed by the power, the promise of sexiness and transformation and so blissfully ignorant by what he has to do to survive from being on clockwork in doing the dirty work for the vamps.

And precisely because of that hey show that guillermo wasn't ready to be a vampire -- yet. Because how can he be ready when he hasn't even figured himself out yet? When it's painfully obvious what he really wants isnt being a vampire but something he desires on a more emotional needs level?

And the most glaring point of this is how brutal and bloody his transformation was. It wasn't how he imagined or wanted it to be. He just wanted to be a vampire, and right off the bat everything went wrong.

He wanted it to be Nandor. He wanted it to be earned. He wanted it to be poetic, sexy and climactic.

Instead it was miserable and horrifying, the biggest shame to a vampire, and he had to keep it a secret to save his own life and nandor's -- hell, he wasn't even a full vampire, nothing had changed. Nothing had changed. When everything was supposed to change. (Catch the theme?)

And the thing he's happy about? The itty bitty powers he slowly starts to gain. Nothing else about vampirism is doing it for him. The raw meat craving, for one. He even cringes when he's drinking the blood Nandor gives him.

He only really wants the powers. He even goes on a little power trip when he fully turns. He's on a brief high until it comes to feeding.

And then the reality fully sinks in.

Guillermo has to come to terms with having to harm people if he wants to be a vampire. It's not the same as leading people to their deaths, he can't take the moral high ground by making the excuse he's not the one doing the killing or anything, vampires have their victims and he just handles the aftermath. Hypocritical? You bet your ass it is. Guillermo is considerate and horrible at the same time. That's what being complex is about.

Sure, there are ways such as not fully draining and just drinking his fill, but he isn't ready for tackling those topics yet. Vampirism was about becoming a new person for him up until that point, not having to drink blood to survive.

And figuring out that no, if he's given the choice, he wants to stay human has to be more devastating and earth-shattering for him.

Because everything he's worked for in the past 14 years, now, is up in the air for Guillermo. What does this mean for him, when will he go from there, is he still going to be a familiar, can he still stay with the vamps?

What does being a vampire mean to him now that his entire sense of self and future he'd built upon it is gone?

Here's what Yana Groskaya has to say about it:

This is one of the core themes of season 6.

In a sense, they've taken Guillermo's one and only hyperfixation away that was limiting his character. They've opened him up to new explorations.

He has to consider what being a van helsing could mean to him now that he can fully face his real self and there isn't a time limit to brush it under the rug so he can fully focus on becoming a vampire.

He has to face himself, learn about himself, go out more, discover himself better.

This also in a way is a direct parallel to Nandor in Season 3, and it's an interesting thing that it was Nandor who helped Guillermo to realize what he really wanted.

This wasn't "all for nothing" - it was a major beat in Guillermo's arc. To face what he naively and childishly wanted to "fix" himself had to be considered more seriously:

Nandor going "This is what I was waiting for" when Guillermo beat him in their fight in season 3 means SO MUCH MORE in this context.

Guillermo, in his BEST, having all the power, going all in on Nandor, seemed ready, as a slayer, he didn't hesitate to fight, harm, or throw hands, he could handle vampires and vampirism, and Nandor saw him fit. THIS was what he was waiting for. "You are alive because I let you live" and full on proving that statement. That he wasn't afraid to kill. For Guillermo to be ready in his soul, and it was his vampire slayer identity readied him. He had it in him all this time.

But in season 5, he has renounced it. He SAYS he has renounced it to be a vampire.

He has to embrace that part of himself to be truly ready.

Him becoming a vampire at this point in his life was so wrong on so many levels, they showed that Nandor would know when it was the right moment and he would do so right by Guillermo, and showed that really, what you think you want isn't actually what you want/need.

So no, this was bound to happen eventually, and an entire season dedicated to it was amazing in my opinion. Amazing things are coming for Guillermo, please don't be discouraged.

Thank you for reading this far.

I also want to write a Nandermo analysis at one point because I'm more passionate than ever and so excited (i loved what this season did with them), but we shall see!

#guillermo de la cruz #wwdits meta #wwdits #what we do in the shadows #wwdits season 5 #wwdits spoilers #nandermo #wwdits s5

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icedmatchatae · 2 years

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No Kisses | KTH Chapter I: Captain vs. President

Pairing: Captain of the Football Team fuckboi Taehyung x Class President goody two shoes Reader

Genre: FWB AU-ish, enemies to frienemies? with benefits to lovers, smut, fluff, angst?? I guess

Summary: It's championship week! The most anticipated week of the school year; however, leading up to the events, you and your council must collaborate with the football team to promote school spirit and pride. Unfortunately, you're forced to work with your number one enemy, Football team captain and fuck boy, Kim Taehyung, known for having a mysterious "no kisses" rule.

Chapter I: Captain vs. President || Series Masterlist

“Meeting adjourned at 4:52 pm.”

The familiar sounds of chairs scraping the council room floors tore the air. The soft sunlight beaming through the windows as the day dwindled down. It was in the middle of the semester. Around this time, the days got shorter and darker within a blink of an eye. Most people felt rather exhausted once the light was gone, but you were eternally grateful for your council to stay attentive and creative as ever. You stood in front of the room, observing as your members began leaving the room after another successful meeting.

You were the student body president of your college campus as well as the youngest elected in history, elected in your second year but inducted in your third year. You honestly didn’t think you were gonna win. You didn’t consider yourself well-known. If anything, everyone knew your outgoing cousin, so maybe you got a couple of brownie points. But sure enough, you won by a landslide after your competition; a pretentious business major got canceled for some reason.

Anyway, you were honored to represent your college and the student population. You took pride in it, and for the most part, in anything you did. If you were going to do something, you’d give your 125%. Call yourself a Type-A personality, but it has always benefited your life up to this point. You were top of your class in both high school and college, and you excelled with flying colors in classes and internships. Yeah, you failed sometimes and hurt like a bitch, but no one ever caught you slipping, which gave you the infamous nickname “President Goody Two Shoes.”

When people said that, they assumed it meant that you didn’t party, you were a prude and uptight, especially with talking about sex, you never got suspended or got called into the office for expulsion, and you always followed rules. You knew this wasn’t entirely true. You just liked staying at home and drinking, you weren’t experienced enough in sex to have an input, and you were so shy in that sense, and why would someone even want to get suspended at a place you’re paying big banks towards.

Judging by all of this and your status, you still wondered how you were president. But luckily, your officers, some of them being your best friends, helped reassure you that you were doing a great job. You eventually embraced what anyone said about you, well, almost everyone.

“Another job well done, Miss President.” Your vice president and best friend, Jung Hoseok, complimented you as he walked towards your large desk. “We must celebrate with some alcohol and a movie marathon at your place.”

“Are you making plans behind my back?” Your treasurer and other best friend, Min Yoongi, yelled from the back of the class. You didn’t understand why he always did that despite being an officer, but you let him be.

“Kinda because you usually fall asleep before you even come to my place.” You shrugged. “Either way, I can’t do this weekend. I have a huge paper to write in my child adolescence class.”

“Can you not do work three weeks before the due date?” Hoseok pouted, knowing that fact because he’s also in that class. “Give yourself a break once in a while.”

“I do give myself a break.”

“I mean, yeah, reading Crying in H-Mart and rubbing one out, but not in the standards of Hoseok and me.” Yoongi got up from his seat and walked up to you both.

“Yoongi, shut up!” You punched his arm, blushing at the information you told them in confidence. “Don’t talk about that, it was a one time long ago and never again. I’m sorry I’m your boring friend. This is who I am, and you’re not going to change me.”

“We want you to have a little fun. We’re at that age to fuck up and get away with it, but you don’t seem to like that.” Hoseok mentioned. You sighed, knowing how they have certain feelings about experiencing your goody-two-shoes role firsthand.

“Fine.” You were guilt-tripped into agreeing, but the smiles on both of their faces were absolutely worth it for you. You loved them to death and vice versa. They accepted you for who you were and were as passionate as you within this council. They stood by you no matter what, and you appreciated them. “But not today. I have a couple of things to handle. We can do it tomorrow.”

A knock from the door caught all of your attention. Your heads revealed your slit-eyed smiling cousin, practically brother, Park Jimin. Being a year older than you, he felt obligated to protect you and push anything potentially dangerous out of your way. When you were five and fell down, he cleaned your wound. When you were pushed by a bully at twelve, he scared them away. When you got heartbroken by your crush at sixteen, he comforted you and gave you advice. You were very close with him and were able to talk through any problems you may have.

“Ya ready, ____? You also hungry?” Jimin spoke as he waved to you and your friends. They knew the routine since Jimin offered to drive you back to your apartment after every meeting to avoid walking and riding the bus alone late at night. “We finished practice 30 minutes ago, but it was alright.”

“Wrong, we waited for almost an hour. We’re starving, waiting for your annoying ass.” The abysmal voice of the devil shattered your eardrums. Your eyes shifted from your cousin to the useless piece of existence coming from behind.

There he was, hair messy and dampened from showering after practice. He had on an oversized red hoodie with loose black pants and matching slides. He shouldered his crossbody bag and duffle filled with his dirtied clothes from practice. His cocoa-covered eyes eyed you with an amusing tinge, making you want to throw up.

Kim Taehyung, the captain of the football team and Quarterback, was the bane of your existence. It doesn’t help that he has been best friends with Jimin since they started college and joined the football team together, so he was there all the fucking time. You don’t know why though, since Jimin was sweet, affable, and caring. Once you got into college, he introduced you to Taehyung, and it went downhill from there. He ridiculed you, teased you, every negative thing you would think of because one, you were Jimin’s little cousin, and two, you were the goody two shoes, and three, the complete opposite of him.

He wasn’t wrong, though. Everything said was who you were on a surface level. With your hair was tied up in a ponytail or braids every day without fail (anything to get it out of your face), followed by your gold-framed glasses because you can’t fucking see for the life of you, you walked proudly around school, knowing you were respected and somewhat well-loved by both students and faculty. If any insults came your way, your stoic expression gave you the power of being unbothered. However, with Taehyung, it wasn’t what he said, it’s how he said it, and you absolutely despised it. Taehyung was nothing but rude and egotistical.

Long story short: he was an irritable popular fuck boy who liked to get what he wanted. An advantage of being president, you heard more things about him than you should. All give evidence on him being the best fuck on campus. They float around like mosquitos, and for some reason, unnecessary people told you. You heard from many cheerleaders, club officers, ravers, and the list went on. It was like a five-star review on Yelp that you didn’t care about (okay, maybe you did think about it). However, something that was constantly mentioned and really stood out to you in curiosity was that Taehyung never kissed his hookups.

The no kisses rule apparently started way before you came into college. Every person who encountered Taehyung sexually spoke about how adamant he was about not wanting to kiss. Some attempted to but were immediately shut down or never went any further. Maybe he wasn’t into it, maybe he didn’t want to contact mouth herpes; who knows, really? It was an odd thing but never got the full answer about it.

“Ugh, why did you bring him again?” You groaned. Jimin knew you weren’t as fond of Taehyung—or so you liked to say—judging by your disgusted looks and followed bickering every time he showed up with his best friend. He tried his best to make you both become friends, but it didn’t happen, so he just got numb to your hatred against each other. At least he tried, right?

“Always excited to see me, princess?” Ahh, there it was. The teasing that you most definitely hated about him. It was like his life’s duty to get some kind of reaction out of you in any way possible, whether it was getting you flustered or angry. He didn’t care and rather enjoyed it as that cheeky smirk morphed into his gorgeous face.

“Ecstatic, I can hardly keep myself still.” You said dumbfoundedly, trying your best to create holes in his head through your intense bored glare.

“Don’t move around too much. Save your energy when you’re alone with me.” He smirked before winking, causing you to groan angrily.

“F-fuck off, you’re so annoying!” You could feel your cheeks heating as you quickly grabbed your backpack and two large boxes of office supplies to bring home. You’ve never met someone so forward in such a way. Was this how he was able to get people in his bed? If so, they may need some therapy.

“Taehyung and I wanted to get some burgers after practice, hence, why he’s here,” Jimin replied. “You ready?” You nodded and were about to carry the boxes out, but Jimin offered to carry them to his car, leaving you with Taehyung and your best friends.

“I’ll see you two tomorrow.” You bid goodbye, but Hoseok stopped you before you could leave.

“Can you hurry up? I’m hungry.” Taehyung whined.

“Shut the fuck up and starve! I don’t care!” You rolled your eyes before smiling cutely at your friend, not noticing Taehyung clenching his jaw.

“I forgot to tell you that you have a meeting with the dean on Monday. Last week, the admin’s office told me to tell you, but I forgot.” Hoseok giggled nervously, knowing how annoyed you get knowing things last minute.

“You didn’t give me enough time to mentally prepare, but I suppose it’ll do. Thank you for telling me.” You said your final goodbyes and left the council room, mindlessly pushing past Taehyung. You didn’t want to give him any more attention you were forced to give, but you heard his footsteps coming closer to you until he walked beside you.

“Meeting with the dean, huh?” Taehyung started, “Seems like Miss President might get in trouble for once.”

“Why would I even get in trouble? I don’t even do half of the stupid shit you did this past week.” You continued to walk, looking forward to avoiding his intense stare.

Out of nowhere, he bent down to your height to whisper in your ear, “Mmmm, princess, what you say as stupid shit I call life pleasures.” He chuckled, and you felt the vibration course through your body, specifically in places your mind wished to not have. “Maybe I should show you sometime.”

Trying your best to not give a reaction, you cleared your throat and snapped back, “What you can show me is sticking your mouth up to your asshole. Maybe you’ll be able to say wiser things than the shit coming out right now.” With that, you stomped your way towards Jimin’s car, all while Taehyung stayed a bit back to observe your reaction pleasingly.

“I can’t believe we made it to the championship!” Jimin exclaimed as he parked in front of your apartment complex. “Twenty-four years, our school has been in a drought, and our year’s team brought the gushing water.”

Ahh, yes, the national championships. Like what Jimin said, our college has reached all the way to the finals after having years of stagnation. This was huge; it will be the most anticipated week of the school year, probably your entire college career.

Jimin mentioned how Taehyung really wanted this year’s team to bond and have great sportsmanship. From what you heard, the past team captains were complete and utter shit. They didn’t care about winning, yet they were sore losers, but most importantly, they wanted the title to show face. There were cliques within the single team, and most of the time, clashed differences, which resulted in shitty football seasons.

Taehyung wanted none of that. He insisted on working closely together and proactively solving fights right away when the team did run into it. He was a liaison between Coach Bang and the team. He advocated what the team wanted while also demonstrating authority when needed. As of result, they developed a brotherhood and respected him as a leader. You guess you can give Taehyung respect for that.

“We’re gonna destroy our opponents!” Jimin roared out of the blue, shocking you and Taehyung.

“Calm down, Chim. I admire your confidence, but it’s months away, and we still need a lot of practice.” Taehyung smiled endearingly at his best friend.

“I know, but it’s so exciting.” Your cousin jumped in his seat, then turned his torso around to face you. “You’re coming, right? You have no choice. It’s an obligation as my cousin.”

“Jimin, I wouldn’t miss it in the world.” You smiled as you unbuckled your seat to get out of the car.

“Why? Because you’ll see me hot and sweaty playing?” Taehyung pushed as he let the passenger’s window down.

“Not everything is about you, fuck face.” You shouldered your backpack behind to grab the boxes. “And for your information, I’ll be there as student body president and Jimin’s cousin. Nothing in that statement mentions me being your little fuck reward at the end of the night.”

“You can if you begged oh so sweetly.” He smiled. Though that smile looked so cute and innocent, you knew it was his devil way to trap anyone under his command, including yourself, but you were smart enough to be aware.

“Nah, you got a catalog filled with potentials. Don’t be so selfish about your choices.” You slammed the car door with your foot.

“Okay, ladies. Enough fighting for today. You’ve drained my energy to hear it.” Jimin chimed in before any of you could say anything. “____, do you need help carrying them up?”

You shook your head, “No, I’ll be okay. I’m strong and independent. Need no man.” Though your statement made Jimin giggle, it only made Taehyung comment rudely.

“Though I think you need dick.”

You decided to ignore him, yet you flared your nostrils to, unfortunately, show he got to you. “Goodbye, Jimin. I’ll see you later.” You turned around and headed towards the main entrance.

“Aww, Princess, don’t I get a goodbye too? You’re making me super sad. You’re hurting your daddy!” Once you reached the entrance, you could sense the cute little pout he made as he fake sobbed. Though he did the bare minimum, you didn’t understand why it urged you to face back to the car to tell him off.

“Will you shut the fuck up? You insufferable, attention-seeking bastard wh–ahhh!” You couldn’t finish your sentence because the door flew open, causing you to lose balance and fall over the single step. You dropped the boxes to the ground in front of you. Fortunately, the boxes broke your fall and saved you, almost face-planted as you barely held yourself with your palms meeting the concrete. Unfortunately, it didn’t save your embarrassment.

“Oh, shit…My bad.” You heard your next-door neighbor Yeonjun apologize. His tone was slightly amused at the last part. You lifted your head to turn to Yeonjun, mumbling out it’s okay, but you didn’t meet his eyes when you did. He looked elsewhere on you.

“Hey, Princess. Pink looks good on you.” You were confused when Taehyung spoke out. You had nothing pink on except…

You felt a slight breeze up your uniform skirt, immediately noticing how it’s now scrunched up on your pelvic. You picked a bad day to forget to wear your safety shorts (because you didn’t do laundry) underneath, revealing your pink bow underwear. You yelped in shame before rolling over to the side and off the boxes, but you landed on your butt and feet, hurting yourself and your pride.

“Wow, open legs too. This is a great goodbye, doll.” Taehyung whistled as he stared in between your legs. He didn’t lie when he said pink looked good on you.

You looked down, seeing your legs spread for his eyes to see. You instantly closed them and looked down at your lap, hiding your red face. You knew he’ll never let you forget this moment, adding another thing to tease you. You couldn’t believe you flashed Taehyung twice (with Yeonjun, who didn’t know how to leave the scene).

Monday came along quicker than you imagined. Though tired from all your classes, you walked down the hallway towards the administration’s office. It wasn’t rare for you to meet the dean, given that you had to meet mandatory a least once or twice a semester to ensure any upcoming events for the school. It was a rather big thing that you were honored to do, so you always tried to make a good impression.

After checking in with the front desk, you waited patiently until your name was called. The receptionist instructed you towards the dean’s office before you knocked on the door. Once you received approval from the other end, you confidently opened the door. However, once you did, you weren’t met with just the dean.

Your eyes moved towards Coach Bang and…Kim Taehyung. What the fuck is he doing here? Even though Coach Bang stood straight in front of the seated dean, Taehyung sat down sluggishly with his arms crossed over his chest, protruding his large biceps and his thighs spread open for the whole world to see.

“Pleasure to see you, pink princess.” He smiled, seeing your right eye twitch. God, he made you aggravated. He was in his football uniform minus the helmet and pads. They were still clean. It was a little over past one in the afternoon, so he was probably on his way to practice, but why was he here? Hoseok didn’t tell you that they would be here too, so you were utterly confused.

Knowing you had many questions, the dean greeted you. “Hello, ____. How are you?”

“I’m doing well. May I ask why Coach Bang and the thing over there are here?” You politely asked. The adults in the room glanced at one another, confused as to why you referred to Taehyung as that, but they let you be.

“Yes, well. I asked them to be here prior as well.” The dean explained. “I hope this isn’t an inconvenience for you.”

You eyed Taehyung from the side, looking very comfortable at your uncomfortable state as he bounced his right leg as a reflex. “Not at all. I was not informed beforehand.”

“Hmm, interesting. I did report it to your VP.” Damn you, Hoseok. You loved him, but he was forgetful, especially with details like this. “But anyway, I brought you and the football coach and team captain here regarding the national championships.” You nodded and listened carefully. “As you know, the championships have become a great deal to our university and our school history. It’s an incredible thing that has happened in a long time, so we appreciate the football team for your hard work.”

“Thank you, but it couldn’t have been done without Taehyung. He has been a great captain to the team.” Coach Bang mentioned.

“Of course, with that being said, the higher-ups and I decided that we must have a week-long celebration before the day of the championships.” The dean then turned to you with a great smile. “We wanted your council to be in charge of the celebration in promoting school spirit and pride as well as conducting a parade around the local area, which you’ll get more help on. We want to develop a fair hours before the game that will attract the community to come and watch history being made.”

Wow, this was a great opportunity for you and your council. Typically your council oversaw fundraisers, club rush, and overall on-campus events. To your knowledge, something like this wasn’t done in the past. It didn’t involve anything beyond the university, definitely not beyond the city. But this was also a very large responsibility. Did you even have the time, resources, or the actual mental capacity to do this?

“Uhh, Dean…Kwon. On behalf of the council, we appreciate this opportunity to help the university to great lengths.” You began. Before you continued, you heard a snort from your mortal enemy and saw his head shake incredulously at how proper you acted. Your lips twitched, wanting to cuss him off. Again, the adults were curious about your interactions but didn’t speak about it. “But I’m concerned about how my council alone will help and contribute to the production. We are only 30 people, and we do have classes as our top priority.”

“Of course, I understand your concerns about the workload that we’ll be given to you on top of being college students. I will make sure you have as many resources and support as possible. We contact other local organizations and businesses to help our college. All we need from you is a structured plan of what will specifically happen within the week. I’ll send you an email on a list.”

You nodded, mentally making notes of the information. “Will that be all?”

“Actually, no.” The dean replied. “Coach Bang and I actually met before this, and we thought it would be a great idea to work with the football team.”

“Excuse me?” You and Taehyung questioned in unison, to which you both grimaced.

“I don’t wanna work with goody-two-shoes over there. She’ll kill off the vibes of the championship, football team, and the overall flow of life.” Taehyung argued ridiculously as he looked away to stare outside the nearby window.

All your rationale, poise, and professionalism were thrown outside the window and replaced with the irritation and want to kill that thing in front of you. “I refuse to work with a pretentious imbecile who only thinks with his impotent dick.”

The dean and Coach Bang were taken aback by your foul roast. But before they could do anything, Taehyung spoke back, “Honey, I’m sure you know that my dick is anything but impotent.” He winked, making you gasp. The way he said it made it seem that you did things with him and right in front of authority too, which was not true.

“I-I-I did not do anything with him whatsoever.” You tried saving yourself, waving your forefinger all willy-nilly. “I only heard of it from your catalog!”

“Only heard, but you wish to experience it firsthand.”

“Alright, you son of a b–”

“____, Taehyung!” The dean cleared their throat. Though they wanted to hear more about it, they knew it was the right thing to stop the fight before it got messy. Sad, but they had to be “professionals.” “I ensure you both can be professional despite your…vocalized differences.”

“We suggested this because it’s a great help and additional people on your end, ____, but also it shows how invested and supported the team is within the school, which is great for publicity, Taehyung. Also, how could you not involve the football team in the events you’re creating without the football team.” Coach Bang explained further.

You and Taehyung stayed silent, knowing the reasons were throughout. They meant well, but that didn’t mean you liked the idea. Creating the events for championship week sounded exciting and fun to prepare, but all while working with the football team, specifically Taehyung? Absolutely not.

You refused to do it.

You had no choice but to do it.

Though you personally didn’t want this, as student body president, you had to suck it up and do it for the betterment of the university and school pride. You didn’t want to disappoint the dean because your personal interests got in the way. It’ll be okay. It’s only three months, it shouldn’t be that bad…right?

You and Taehyung argued about where the joint meeting would be located. You did not want your council to be stuffed like sardines in the odor-filled locker rooms, but Taehyung countered that it was a safe haven for his members and would be more in their zone. You stood your ground and added the fact that the council room was large enough to fit all the people involved, with everyone having enough space to enjoy their surroundings and sit comfortably at a desk each.

Five minutes before the scheduled joint meeting, you wrote the agenda on the whiteboard while mentally preparing what would happen in the next hour. Not that you were afraid of the football team because you met some of them through Jimin, but it’s just new territory that’s being walked on. The council and football team together is an odd mix.

From what you know, your council was similar to you, a bunch of honorable overachievers who were passionate about doing something for the school. They were in other clubs, ranging from cultural to educational to campus ministry. You trusted them with any task you gave, and they respected you with the authority you had.

From what you know about the football team, they were much different. Imagine Jimin, Taehyung, and 28 other Taehyungs but weren’t as bad as Taehyung. Yeah, let’s go with that description.

“Prez?” Your fellow council member and second-year student, Soobin, called for you after putting the marker down and looking back at him. “Is it true that we’re collaborating with the football team from now on?”

“Only collaborating for championship week. After that, we’ll go back to doing our own thing, and they go back to whatever ball they have to throw.” You answered, but most of your council seemed a bit apprehensive from their glances at one another. “Come on, everyone. It won’t be that bad. Hopefully, this is a great opportunity, and hopefully, it’ll be fun!”

Your council looked at you as if you were crazy and you didn’t understand why. Everything you said was normal and what you usually said to cheer them on. You shifted your head towards Hoseok, who had the same look like the rest of them.

“Are you all okay?” You questioned.

“____, we’re good…like with the football team coming and helping,” Hoseok said on behalf of the council. “But are you good with it?”

“Of course, I am. Why wouldn’t I be?”

“Because you’re fucking working with Kim Taehyung! We all know how irritated you are with him.” Yoongi blurted out from the back. Everyone around you nodded, silently praying to your treasurer, who had the balls to mention your feud.

You scoffed, “Okay, I know Taehyung and I have our difference—” Murmurs of “you fight like animals,” “$5 says that they’ll full-on scrap in front of us,” “make that $10,” and “oh you think I got money.” “Council.” You pulled your authoritative tone, making them quiet down. “I can assure you I will act as your president and not as ____. It’s only three months, and I will do everything with respec—”

“Sup, bitches!” You were interrupted by a boisterous voice, and a slamming of the door opening as a herd of large men started filing into the room. Judging by the potent smell of various cologne and the look of wet hair, you assumed that they had finished practicing. They were too loud for your liking but seeing that their captain, the last to come in and close the door, was unbothered by the noise, you made a sour expression and had to accept that fact.

“Guys, take a seat. Don’t look too intimidating to the fawns around you.” Taehyung commanded, and his team members did what he said. Shockingly, some council members knew some football team members, so you guess they were going to get along really well.

“Hey, princess.” Taehyung greeted arrogantly as he came towards the front. “Can’t wait to spend some time with you.”

“Taehyung, please take a seat next to Hobi.” You ordered, gesturing towards the vacant seat next to your best friend.

“Why? I’m captain. I should be taking the lead on this.”

“But I’m the president. Dean Kwon instructed me and my council to develop championship week. Your football team is here to assist us.” You explained.

“But didn’t they say we needed to work together?” Taehyung began playing with your flames of annoyance. “And plus, this is about football, something you know very little about, my dear.”

“Yes, it revolves around football but this whole working together is making plans for events, something you know very little about, my dear.” You used his own words against him. You could see his jaw clenching, knowing you hit a nerve. You felt somewhat satisfied, but still, he wasn’t willing to give up.

“I think I deserve to be in front as much as you do.” He stated as he took a step closer to you.

“Please, do tell.” Now it was your turn to play with the flames. No way in hell you were willing to give up leading this whole thing, especially when you’re forced to do it.

“My boys only listen to me.”

“I think they’ll be okay with listening to their student body president.” You rolled your eyes as you pushed the bridge of your glasses up. You wanted to end this discussion, so you faced your back towards him to meet the eyes of everyone.

Before you could even greet them, a sudden tug on your braided hair pulled you back. You winced as your back slammed onto a hard surface, realizing it was Taehyung’s chest. You sensed his lips hovering over your ear as you felt his heated breath say, “Princess, don’t get me angry. I’ll punish you in front of your little council members.”

You exhaled so feebly. You felt chicken skin running through your body from his baritone voice, hating how affected you were by it. You closed your eyes to control and suppress any emotions. With all your might, you pushed him away from you, almost making him fall, but you weren’t as strong to bring him down.

You were ready to explode as you yelled, “Stop fucking around, you fuck face! This is serious. I ca–”

“____.” Hoseok got out of his seat. Your vice president went up to you and said, “Perhaps I can take lead for today. Give you a break…and hopefully, go through this meeting without you potentially ripping Taehyung to shreds.”

Your eyes observed the room. The aura was awkward as the council members and football team stared fearfully at what had happened. The first meeting hadn’t officially started, and it already wasn’t going well. Although one thing is for certain, none of them saw you this angry. You were typically kind and understandable. It was amazing how one man could make you act irrational and ruin your entire reputation that took years to build.

Not wanting to interrupt any further, you nodded and sat on the desk Hoseok previously was on. You were slightly ashamed of yourself, letting his words get to you with such ease. What’s wrong with you? You were supposed to be the professional president here.

“Taehyung, why don’t you have a seat too? I’ll ask you for any help if needed. For now, we need to report a brief understanding of this.” Hoseok civilly suggested, and much to your dismay, Taehyung fucking obliged to your vice president…instead of you?

The fucking audacity.

The hour and a half were brutal despite Hoseok’s cautious orders and demands, and it continued for the next couple of meetings. Within the agenda, you were split into groups, each mixed with your council and the team. It did go well, and they liked each other’s ideas that were being said; however, every time you reported for your group, Taehyung was always there to counter or comment on anything you said, and it was only you. It was like it was his mission to do this to you.

You tried your best to really be patient and not let it get to you. You really tried. You wanted so badly to be the bigger person, but all you wanted to do was strangle that thick fucking neck of his. At least once in every meeting, you snapped at him. And after each meeting, he would bid goodbye so grossly sweet as if he didn’t do anything to you. He enjoyed getting you riled up, and you were bothered that you gave him what he wanted.

It shamed you how Hoseok had been leading the meetings and not you. Though you knew he did well leading, and you were proud of him, you wished you were able to prove how worthy you were as student body president. You hoped to redeem yourself sooner or later.

“____. Tae. Hoseok and I wanna talk to you.” Jimin announced after the meeting. Almost everyone was gone by now, apart from your best friends and Jimin and Taehyung’s friend group all piled in the back corner interacting with one another. They were attentive to whatever Yoongi spoke about them.

“What’s up?” You asked as Taehyung slowly walked beside you.

“You both need to be respectful to one another for us to execute championship week,” Hoseok ordered with no silliness to his tone. Usually, your best friend was a radiant ball of sunshine, so seeing how serious he spoke terrified you. “Sure, it’s completely fine outside of council, but your bickering interrupts work getting done. It makes me disappointed to see you like this, ____.”

“Hobi, I understand, but he’s being rude!” You whined as you stomped a foot down. You looked childish, but you couldn’t help it. He irritated the fuck out of you. “Everything I do and say is talked down upon by him.” You pointed at the tall frame next to you.

“What happened to being a respectable president and pushing your personal issues aside to lead?” Hoseok countered, making you stay quiet and look down at your shoes.

“I agree with Hoseok, but I also agree with what ____ said because Taehyung, your side comments are not getting us anywhere. They’re a nuisance, and sure, they’re funny. I laugh at them too because fuck, I couldn’t control myself when you commented on selling dildos shaped by our own dicks–” Hoseok nudged your cousin to focus on the greater problem. Once Jimin realized it, he went back to his statement, “The point is, please don’t do things like that right now.”

“Come on, Chim. You know I like to play around with you guys.” Taehyung tried to lighten his blow.

“Yes, but you’re captain, and if you do that, the boys will copy you like the fucking seagulls from Finding Nemo. They respect you, and they see you disrespecting ____, then it won’t go well. Plus, we’re in their space; you need to at least have some respect on that.” What Jimin said had his best friend frown in shame and nod weakly.

“Look, we’re not saying you need to be best friends forever. We want you to be civil within our council room and until the championships. We don’t give a fuck if you kill each other outside that; just don’t plan to kill one another here.” Hoseok continued, “To make things a bit better, we separated tasks within each designated group so you’ll be apart from each other, but we wanted to assign you on a specific banner.”

You shot your head up as you stared at your vice president, “Isn’t it even better if we don’t work together at all?”

“We thought about that, but we also know you both were creative. You have the vision and like to paint, and Tae likes to draw and paint. It works out.” Jimin reasoned.

“This also creates bonding skills for both of you.” Hoseok pointed out. “I don’t know how the fuck you ended up hating each other, but I’m getting annoyed by it. In and out of council. Jimin may be unbothered by it but not me, so fucking work together.”

You didn’t want to work with Taehyung. You knew it wasn’t going to end well. Taehyung knew how to push your buttons. But you had to, at least for Jimin and Hoseok’s sake. You promised that you should at the very least be indifferent to any comment Taehyung had towards you while he promised not to do any of that. You both promised but let’s see how well you kept those promises.

You finished your classes, and now you were waiting in the council room. There was no meeting today, so you were the only one there. Surprisingly, you and Taehyung agreed to meet after both of your classes. He didn’t have a practice that day, too, so it worked out. However, once you made it five minutes before your scheduled time, you found yourself waiting for him for more than half an hour.

You thought though he couldn’t say anything back to you, it didn’t mean his actions couldn’t irritate you. You shook your head at how foolish you now were in believing that he was willing to be cooperative. There you decided to start outlining your own idea on the banner and choosing what you wanted on it. Taehyung had no choice but to accept whatever you did since he wasn’t here to help you. You eventually had the small draft of the banner made and was satisfied with how it looked. You pulled some banner paper out from the small supply room connected to the back to start working.

When you laid out the paper on the multiple desks you pushed together, the door opened to reveal your supposed banner partner. He was in his school uniform with his tied loosened and shirt untucked. His hair fell messy on his forehead, and his shoulder bag swung around his body as he walked in like it was no big deal and he wasn’t in trouble for coming here late.

“Wow, you’re super early. You must be very punctual.” You spoke out, then ultimately ignored his existence completely. You began sketching your design on paper.

Sensing your sarcasm, he knew you were upset. “Well, we did agree on 1:30 pm.” You said nothing but pointed at the clock, which revealed it was almost 3 pm. “Yeah, sorry. I got held up doing something.” It stunned you how he apologized so effortlessly, but you didn’t want him to get that appreciation, so you dismissed what he said.

“I’m serious when I say I’m sorry.” You continued to not give him the time of day and focused on the banner, outlining the words you wanted on it. “Hey, aren’t we supposed to work on the banner together? We didn’t agree to do this design.”

Oh, how much you wanted to tell him off on how he wasn’t even here for you to “work together,” but decided against it and ignored him. It relaxed you at how well you were treating him like the wind. You should have done this a long time ago. Your blood pressure was stable as ever!

“I’m talking to you!” Taehyung got aggravated at your doing. You weren’t giving the usual attention he usually got from you. There was no response, no reaction, nothing coming from you. Did this mean you were really pissed off? “Hey, ____.” He called out to no avail as you continued to draw the letters onto the banner. So, he did it again but still nothing.

Then he decided to walk up and rip the pencil out of your hand and throw it on the ground. Okay, now he infiltrated your space, so you were about to yell at him when he turned your stature around to face him. He pressed his body onto yours and held your wrists on your sides. You attempted to break free from his grasp as you complained, “Let go of me!”

“Why are you ignoring me?” Taehyung pouted as he loosened his grip, careful not to hurt you but still enough to keep you still.

“You’re really asking me that.” You rolled your eyes before lifting your head up to see him. You never realized how much Taehyung towered over you. Maybe it was because you were never this close to him.

Torsos touching, faces centimeters away, feeling each other’s breaths wash your faces. You had a closer look into his features; caramel skin glowed under the artificial lights, his silken lashes were long, his moles were clear and noticeable, his plush lips looked soft to touch, and ki–

A smug smirk on his face formed as he noticed you looking at his features, completely distracted. “Yes, I’m asking you that.” His voice broke your staring and made you realize what you were doing. You looked away and down to the floor, hiding your heated cheeks. He lets go of one of your wrists to clutch your chin so you can look him in the eye. “Princess, I asked a question. I deserve an answer.” Once you met his eyes, you saw something rather different from his cocky and rude demeanor. His irises darkened and were larger than usual. You suddenly feel rather small and intimidated by him. You didn’t know what to do, but you found yourself willing to do what he said.

“Y-you came late and made me work on this alone.” You hated how weak your voice was, but you couldn’t help it. Taehyung watched you as your large doe eyes stared back at him innocently through your glasses. Your bottom lip pushed out so cutely from your pout. It got him riled upon how willing you looked.

“I’m sorry, baby. I got held up with classwork. I hope you can forgive me.” He caressed your cheek as you hummed before closing your eyes, taking in his touch that felt so good. His thumb ran through your skin, feeling its softness before he grazed your lips. Ever so slowly, he swiped his thumb across your lips for a bit until he suddenly pushed it into your mouth. Your eyes opened up from the surprise and were about to protest, but he spoke before you. “Suck my thumb, princess.”

All you could do was nod before sucking his thumb gently while looking at him with hooded eyes. His eyes filled with lust, wanting more from you. His other hand moved from your wrist to wrap his arm around your waist to lift you up and sit on the desks you gathered. He pushed your legs apart, slotting himself in between them. When you accidentally swiped your tongue onto his thumb, you swore you heard him let out a low moan before pulling his digit out of your mouth. He grabbed your waist, pulling your frame closer to him.

You almost fell back, but you hooked your arms around his neck for support. One of his hands traveled down your body before landing on your higher thigh. You grew tense, then he began massaging the flesh before you relaxed under his touch. You wanted more, and you weren’t sure of “what more” you wanted. But all you know was that you felt your underwear dampening and sticking to your sodden cunt.

That said hand moved higher until it landed on your covered ass, giving a playful squeeze before he leaned closer. You inhaled sharply when you felt his hard-covered erection pressing into your core. The feeling was sensational, almost zapping electricity through your frame. You never had something like this happen to you. Then Taehyung rolled his hips, making his dick rub onto your pulsing clit.

You let out a squeaking moan. You were embarrassed by the sound that came out of you, attempting to put your palm over your mouth, but Taehyung caught your hand and placed them back over his shoulders. His hands rested on your waist as he lowered his head to meet you at eye level. “Princess, lemme hear your pretty voice.” He cooed, resting his forehead on yours. He pecked the tip of your nose before going at a slow pace. He continued to push harder every time his erection hit your clothed pussy.

Each hit made you whine softly, feeling heat form in the center of your body then gradually spread everywhere. You were easily responsive, so sensitive to the brim. You raised your gaze at him, seeing how flushed his face was and how hooded his erotic eyes were. He sensed you were enjoying this dry humping, so he took it up a notch to speed up his thrusting, to which you felt a knot twisting inside your stomach.

“Taehyung!” You squealed as your fingers reached the threads of his raven hair. Your legs wrapped around his waist. Your head twitched forward, resting your forehead on his shoulder. You couldn’t control your breathing and instead kept repeating his name.

“I like the way you say my name, princess.” He chortled darkly without missing a beat to his thrust. “But I prefer you call me daddy. Say it, baby. Lemme hear it.” You whined and shook your head, too shy to even attempt it. It felt too much for you. “Princess, don’t make me stop. You wouldn’t want that, right?”

“N-no.” You sniffed, suddenly feeling something come closer and closer to you.

“Then call me daddy. I’ll give you what you want.” He proposed as he went rapidly, making you groan in such immense pleasure. “Tell daddy I make you feel good.”

“Please, daddy. I want more!” You wept out as you pulled onto his strands. Your seeping hole ruined your panties, but you didn’t care at all. All you wanted was this amazing pressure Taehyung gave you that made the swollen nub twitch that made you lose all your morale.

“Daddy will give you more. He’s also sorry for making his baby wait on him for so long. I hope you can forgive me.” He breathed out before bending down to your neck. He licked a trail on the column before creating a blooming bruise of carnality. His hands pushed through your skirt to knead the fat of your ass, urging you to meet his pace despite your struggle.

“Don’t do it again. I won’t forgive you next ti–unghh.” That one pressure to the clit made you insane. You gripped his hair tightly, feeling the pull coming to its end. “Daddy, I don’t know what’s happening. A-am I-am I gonna cum? Is this it?” You foolishly asked as you bit your lip so hard that you thought you drew blood.

Not that you were completely ignorant to the world of sex. You knew a few things here and there. You heard many stories from your friends and, regretfully, your cousin. You knew both anatomies, but you were never curious about them. You weren’t a prude either. You tried masturbating, hence why Yoongi likes to tease you, but nothing came out. If anything, it hurt like hell, and you refused to do it again. The topic wasn’t all that interesting in resulting in being a virgin with very little experience with their own body.

Taehyung growled lowly, not realizing that you were untouched and pure, so so so pure. It sparked a luscious interest in you, even more so. The idea of him being the first person doing this to you…His dick twitched at the thought of it. He was ready to do more, give you more. “Baby, have you not done anything like this? Haven’t been touched?” You shook your head quickly before retreating back to breathy moans. “Oh, Princess. I’m gonna fucking ruin you.” You struggled to respond as you could feel the coil about to snap within you. You couldn’t wait any longer. You wanted to know how it felt to come. It was coming closer, almost to the finish line–

“_____!” A voice yelled out from behind the door. Though your mind was distracted by a covered dick, it was Taehyung to realize who was coming and what was about to happen. Before you could even finish, he pushed himself off of you and closed your legs. He went to the nearest desk to sit and act casually while hiding the painful tent in his pants.

You almost fell back but stabilized yourself, holding your weight on your palms resting on the desk surface. You were confused. What the hell happened? What was Taehyung doing? Why’d he stopped? All these questions popped into your fucked out mind. You were also angry because you weren’t able to finish. How dare he?

Before you could protest, you noticed your surroundings and what was happening. Though you say Taehyung acting like nothing happened, you noticed Hoseok and Yoongi walk in with puzzled looks. Their gaze went from a rather calm Taehyung leaning on a chair to you, flushed and sitting on top of the banner.

“Hey…” Hoseok greeted suspiciously, feeling the weird atmosphere. “Are you both good? How’s it going?”

Taehyung hummed, avoiding his eye contact. “Fine.” He spoke no further and practically ignored everyone in the room, including you.

Your best friend’s head turned to you, analyzing your features. You acted strange, never seeing you like this before. You looked completely hammered and frazzled in your spot. Your baby hairs were sticking to your forehead. Your bottom lips were so red and plumped, almost as you broke into the usual hives. He barely noticed your crossed thighs shaking because he spotted a dark spot forming on the side of your neck. He wondered what happened but decided against it and will ask you later. That’s if he’ll remember.

Meanwhile, Yoongi was too invested in his phone to even assume anything. He only paid attention once he put his device in his back pocket before saying, “Sup, how’s the banner?”

“Uhh, huh?” You questioned, tilting your head to the side. “Wh-what are you talking about?”

Yeah, you were definitely not yourself right now because Yoongi cocked an eyebrow and nodded towards you, “The banner you’re sitting on. Have you done anything?” You looked behind you and stared at the paper that barely had any pencil smears and eraser shavings.

Suddenly your brain switched gears, and your sensible switch flipped on, realizing where you were and what you’d done. You dry-humped Taehyung in the middle of the council room. But before you could even orgasm, Hoseok and Yoongi almost walked in on you. Taehyung had his hardened dick hiding under the desk, and you feel your underwear drenched by your essence and the paper damp and darkened.

You couldn’t believe what just happened, feeling your already heated cheeks grow red as the sexual scene replayed in your head. How did you let him get to you? But you wanted to hate it, but you’d be lying if you said you didn’t like it. Yet this should not have happened in the first place. Your feelings were all over the place, including the emotions of anger, horniness, and shyness.

Before you could indulge yourself in your private thoughts, you snapped back into reality. You jumped on your two feet, catching the attention of all men. However, your legs wobbled, acting like a baby deer, before reaching the desk again to keep you standing. Noticing the large wet spot on the banner, you crumpled the paper into a large ball to hide the evidence and sped to the nearest trash can.

Hoseok was about to open his mouth to question your questionable actions, but you quickly grabbed your things at such speed and evacuated the premises. You didn’t even close the door behind you. You wanted to get away as fast and far as possible. You didn’t want anyone to see you like this, you didn’t want to talk to anyone, and certainly didn’t want to speak on anything you and Taehyung did.

#bts fanfic #bts x reader #bts smut #taehyung fanfic #taehyung x reader #taehyung smut #taehyung #kim taehyung x reader

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targaryentorture · 8 months

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Second Born (Daemon Targaryen)

Part 1 Part 2

Daemon had anticipated the return of his youngest niece for many moons. So, when news broke of Rhaneyras engagement, he couldn’t help but acknowledge how his breath hitched when Viserys and his council mentioned visenyas name. She had left on dragon back years ago to try and be free for a time from her father’s wishes, the same he now proposes for her older sister Rhaneyra. An arranged marriage.

Visenya was strikingly beautiful, much like her mother at her age. The most sought-after girl in Westeros. Her features differed from her sisters, despite their shared parentage and close age gap. Unlike her sister, Visenya never sported a traditional Targaryan braid, she preferred her hair to remain unruly and wild, cascading gracefully passed her shoulders. Despite her late mother’s protests.

She had every man in the seven kingdoms fawning at her very presence despite her being third in line to the Iron Throne. They recited bullshit declarations of love and offers of generosity, cunningly planted into their minds as babes by the council of their houses. She knew despite her beauty and talents that these men dreamed of nothing more than to father her silver haired babes and have a claim to the iron throne. But she was not to be tamed. She dreamt of more for herself. Her aim was never to claim the iron throne, she was a girl, and as it stood at that time Daemon was his heir. Her father discovered very early on in her childhood that she wanted nothing more than to travel the world and divulge into the beauty of the different cultures of the realm on dragon back.

She was a fiercely opinionated young dragon who possessed a thirst for chaos. Much like her uncle. This greatly troubled Viserys, he could see countless elements of his brother within his second born and the closeness that they shared, and as she grew so did her father’s concerns.

Viserys had proposed an idea to Visenya only a matter of hours before her departure, that she was to marry Jason Lannister. To strengthen the bonds of their houses and the realm, after all the Lannisters possessed something that benefited the king. A castle far away from the temptation of the Rogue Prince.

“My dearest daughter, this arrangement was made to benefit you, not offend you. I’m doing you a kindness; the Lion is a fine match for you.” Viserys pleaded with his youngest daughter. Viserys knew this wouldn’t be an easy conversation, he foresaw this when the marriage was first discussed with his council.

“A kindness?” Visenya questioned. “Your grace, with all due respect I would rather be fed to the dragons than marry that pretentious, golden-haired idiot.” Visenya grew tired of conforming to the crowns demands. She loved her father but could no longer deny that she had dreams and desires of her own. “Look at Prince Daemon, you wed him to Lady Rhea and he resents you for it. Father, I don’t want the same fate for our relationship.”

She admired her uncle, his bravery and defiance of her father and the crown. But as she grew older that admiration began to subside, and brewed into something that she couldn’t quite comprehend.

“Daemon has sealed his fate with me.” Viserys tensed his jaw at the thought of his brother, and how he had banished him as heir moments before, unbeknownst to his daughter. “You must perform your duties as my daughter, and for your house.”

“If an alliance with the Lannisters pleases you as much as it appears, then why not spare yourself to my protests and marry Rhaneyra to the Lannister boy?”

“I understand your frustration, daughter. But your sister will have her own responsibilities to bare in due course. Please listen to my terms, I will allow you 2 years, to roam the realm a free dragon and conquer or discover the realm and all your heart’s desires. But when you return, you must choose to marry someone of high importance and fulfil your duties at court. I will not accept any less. Selfishly as your father, I wish to see you contented and perhaps one day make me a grandsire.” He paused, turning to face the young princess. “I expect an answer on the morrow.”

Visenya pondered her conversation with her father as she returned to her chambers, the moonlight now engulfing the hallways of the castle. Two years of freedom for an eternity as a lady wife, to a man she most likely will have no interest in. She couldn’t think of anything she desired less. “Princess.” Ser Criston Cole greeted her outside of her chambers, with a smile and nod. Upon walking into her chambers, she immediately fell to her bed, head in hands.

“What am I to do?” She pondered in deep thought, staring intently into the candlelight perched on her bedside. The bright, hot flames flicker, lighting up the dark room around its molten core as the embers dance around in the air above. Fire is the element essential to life in every form she thought to herself. The very destruction and heat it causes running through her veins and the blood of her ancestors. Some more so than others. Her mind raced immediately to her uncle. A man full of flames and fury, such beauty yet so much rage coursed through him.

Almost like her mind had summoned him, a knock sounded from the door of her chambers.

“Ser Criston?” She called out, expecting the handsome dark-haired man to enter the room. The door opened slowly, revealing Daemon. He appeared dishevelled and troubled, a cup of wine occupying his strong hands.

Ser Criston followed him hesitantly. “With all due respect Prince Daemon, The King instructs I’m not to leave the princess alone in her chambers with-”

“Byka mēre.” Little One. Daemon ignores the Dornish knight, focusing his attention on Visenya. A white linen shirt draped over his toned chest, the details of his body visible through the thin material. Visenya could feel the palms of her hands become laced in sweat. “A very loyal guard dog, you have there.”

“Leave us.” Visenya smiled politely at the knight.

“Naejot skoros gaomagon nyke enkagon se pleasure, Kepus?” To what do I owe the pleasure, uncle?

“I brought something for you.” He paused, his free hand fingering through the pockets of his clothing. Revealing a gold necklace, laced with jewels and a Targaryan crest. “Turn around.”

Visenya tried not to show her excitement as he approached her. She felt her heart skip within her chest as her uncle placed his cup of wine by her bedside and brushed her waist length silver hair in front of her shoulders. Grazing the sides of them with the tips of his fingers, her body almost erupting in anticipation. She could feel his hot breath tickle her neck as he placed the beautiful necklace onto her pale skin, she whimpered at his touch. She felt immediate regret when letting it escape her lips, she knew he would be smirking to himself. She knew Daemon, if he senses weakness, he will pounce. “Thank you, uncle.” She whispered.

“Gevie.” Beautiful.

“I overheard your conversation with the king.” Daemon muttered, clasping the necklace around her neck. “I fear that you will agree to your fathers proposal.” Despite Daemons cold exterior he adored the young princess, with every ember that burned within him. He couldn’t stand the thought of her leaving kings landing to become someone’s lady wife. He wanted her for his own pleasure, to gaze at her as he pleased. Husbandless. He had always been in awe of her beauty, something he confesses he had always searched for in the faces of the women in the pleasure houses of Kings Landing. Daemon ached for her, something he had been trying to deny for many moons. If Viserys caught wind of Daemons adulterated intentions towards his second born daughter, he would banish him to the nights watch without hesitation. As she turned to face him, he watched her delicate mouth twitch up into a smile, her eyes lighting up in the process. Like two violet gemstones in the light of the sun, glimmering.

“The offer my father proposes is a generous one.”

“You really intend on marrying that Lannister cunt?” He sneered. “Just for a mere number of years of freedom on dragon back.” Visenya couldn’t decipher what Daemon seemed to be feeling, uncertainty rushed over her like a cool wind. Meanwhile, his eyes gleamed with passion and his cheeks flushed.

“It will be an arranged match. What I want is meaningless to the small council, you know this to be true you’ve witnessed it yourself.”

“Lo ziry iksos freedom ao desire byka mēre, pār join issa.” If it is freedom you desire little one, then join me.

The pair had snuck out of the red keep that evening.

The princess and her uncle strolled through the gardens; small glances of hushed admiration shared amongst the pair. Visenya removed her shoes, stepping softly onto the moonlit grass without thought. Above, eyes upward, a serenade of heavens black supported a chorus of glimmering stars. As she admired them, Daemons gazed locked onto her. His heart devoured the moment of unsupervised bliss. He scanned her body, admiring her silhouette and each delicate movement she made. He could tell her mind was at war with itself. A pain he was all too familiar with. A pain he would never wish upon her.

He approached her carefully, filling the space beside her but she did not flinch or even turn to meet his gaze. She just stared, emptily. “It’s wonderful, isn’t it?” She spoke softly. “How the gods graced us with such power, to rule the skies.”

“The gods gave us dragons.” He paused. “Many of us do not know such grace.”

Daemon couldn’t keep the truth from her much longer.

“Rhaneyra is to claim your fathers crown.” He spoke plainly. Visenya's demeanour changed.

“How do you know this to be true?”

“Your father has banished me and intends for your sister to sit the throne.”

Visenya could feel her heart sink. The thought of Daemon leaving Kings Landing hurt her immensely. He placed his hands softly onto hers, intertwining their fingers and closing the gap between them.

“Let me take you to wife.” His tone is urgent and desperate. This took her by surprise, she had never known Daemon to be like this. He tucked a loose piece of hair behind her ear. She was unfamiliar with his affection and leaned into it, soaking up his touch. “I will honour you, just as your father wishes.” His lips now moved feverishly to her shoulders, pressing a delicate kiss to her pale skin. “We could fly off in the morrow, be wed at Dragon stone in the tradition of our house and nobody would care to question it.”

She whimpered at the desperation and weakness in his voice. Something she’s witnessed from men before, but never him. Their mouths were now breaths apart, panting from the intensity of the moment. Just as she is about to answer he presses his finger to her lips, closing her mouth, their foreheads pressing together. She closed her eyes in ecstasy, almost as if his words were a dream. Holding him this close felt as natural as breathing.

“Ao se nyke issi keskydoso byka mēre, se ānogar hen zaldrīzes dakogon qumblie. īlon issi lurking isse se shadows hen īlva uēpkta siblings skori skoros īlon issi destined syt iksos freedom. Naejot desire, jorrāelagon, purge se fuck hae īlon kostilus.” You and I are the same little one, the blood of the dragon runs thick. We are lurking in the shadows of our older siblings when what we are destined for is freedom. To desire, love, purge and fuck as we please.

“Hae mēre.” As one.

Visenya couldn’t take it anymore. She threw herself into his arms, pressing their lips together hungrily. This sudden urge of confidence took Daemon by surprise, but he melted at her touch, succumbing to the urges he fought so desperately to supress. His hands immediately made their way to her wild silver locks, grasping it by the roots and pulling her head back slightly, earning him a moan. They didn’t care that they could be seen, or the whispers that would follow. The lust that had gathered from that moment engulfed the pair and made all sense of honour and integrity flee from their bodies.

Daemon was all over her. His lips, his hands, his body. She didn’t want an inch of her body untouched by him. As they lay beneath the tall oak tree, the pair writhed around the grass in pure bliss. Hands feverishly exploring every detail of the others body.

“Tepagon aōla naejot issa.” Give yourself to me.

He scanned her face for a response, catching her eyes flicker back down to his lips almost pleading with him to continue. He growled hungrily, hiking her dress up to her thighs.

“I am yours, uncle.”

Visenya woke up in a blissful daze, her heart fluttering against her ribcage. Memories of the adulterous acts between her and Daemon flashed through her mind, but she smiled to herself. She felt whole. For a few moments she just laid there, still able to feel his phantom hands tracing along her body. She reached out for him, only to find that the place he once laid in beside her was empty.

Her heart was racing, searching desperately around her chambers for a slight trace of evidence that he may return. But there was nothing. The only evidence of the night they shared being the white sheets adorning her mattress, a small pool of blood staining the middle. Her virtue.

#daemon targaryen #daemon targeryen x reader #house of the dragon #game of thrones

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beevean · 2 months

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I think I have finally managed to put together one of the biggest issues with NFCV: it's pretentiously intellectualist and snob.

the whole tone is grimdark serious, with the exception of some crass jokes.

the world is divided into "cultured" people (the vampires) and "ignorant" people (the humans).

In general, there is little love for humanity as a whole in a show inspired by a series where the strength of humanity is the core of it.

Vampires Are Better Than You because they don't lose their culture (read: human culture that gets lost through the ages. It's not even their culture lmao)

CHURCH BAD not because they have a massive amount of power easily abusable, but because they're ignorant and believe in stupid supernatural God stuff that stifles the Real Science.

Dracula's best redeeming quality is not being a family man. It's being a Man of Science™, with a Castle of Science™ instead of an eldritch location for a home. It's why Lisa went to him to learn, and why Isaac thinks he should serve and protect him. It's also the main reason Alucard expresses sorrow at the idea of having to kill his father: not emotional attachment, but disappointment that the CHURCH BAD had to make him use his genius for evil.

In S2, few characters focus on the sheer evil of wanting to destroy mankind for the sins of few. Much more focus is put on how stupid and insane and irrational and shortsighted Dracula is for not thinking ahead. His downfall is caused by him not being smart enough to care about the state of the council and Carmilla's real intentions.

When Dracula mocks Lisa and says that she only "wants to daub chicken blood on peasants", she herself scoffs at the idea of being seen as a witch - she's a doctor, thank you, she's superior to the ignorant masses.

Her last words are not "Alucard, don't harm humans because their life is already hard enough/those who hate humans walk down the path of their own destruction". It's "Dracula, don't harm humans because you're better than them". Not compassion: superiority.

Most of the dialogue is just talking about stuff for the sake of talking, with the pretense of being Deep and Nuanced. When you break it down, however, very little of it is actually deep ("My devotion has been a matter of interrogation for some years, and the reparation of my heart is far away")

The Speakers are portrayed as inferior unless they can do magic. Their oral and nomad culture is scoffed on, Sypha herself decides that it's actually stupid, and Alucard goes so far as insult her entire heritage when he's stuck in the castle ("one day I will go back to live with my flea-bitten family in a cart, which makes me better than everyone")

Alucard (who, as a reminder, is a "biracial" prince who identifies more with the "elite" species) also keeps insulting the Belmont clan in a way that implies that they do "stupid", gross magic stuff and that's what makes them worthy of mockery ("I imagine one sacrifices a chicken, and divines the location of the book you want from the intestines")

Isaac is portrayed as an introspective, intellectual man, which makes his misanthropy and pettiness okay. He never fully realizes that people deserve to live, he only decides that he deserves to live, that he wants to do something constructive with his life, which would be nice if he also remembered that he has gallons of blood on his hands. The story gives him everything he wants on a silver platter, and portrays him as Cool and Intelligent and Deep.

Hector is portrayed as a stupid manchild for his affinity for animals, despite S2 showing him as being the only one willing to do something to unite the council. The story frequently and harshly punishes him for being too "trusting", and not for his callous culling plan - he never grows up morally, but his Big Redeeming Moment is becoming as underhanded as those who hurt him.

In fact, S3's major moral is exactly "you're a fool if you see good in people": Alucard gets nearly killed for growing attached to the Japanese not-twins, Hector is humiliated for believing Lenore cared about him, and Trevor literally says this to a heartbroken Sypha (and you're supposed to feel sorry for Isaac when the guards don't let him and his demons through). S4 has a happier tone, but it does little to go against this moral.

It really is the embodiment of r/im14andthisisdeep.

#anti netflixvania #finally i was able to connect all the dots

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francesminos-tt · 1 year

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Velaryon brothers dragon au

Lucemond, jacegon and joffron

A complied version of my thread fic!

Dragons had been extinct in Westeros for over a century. The seven kingdoms united under Aegon the last dragon and his two queen consorts, one of whom was a dragon to fight the Night King. All dragons died in the battle. The Seven Kingdoms remained independent but they swore their loyalty to the Targaryen Dynasty. The Targaryen King was called High King. The current High King of the seven kingdoms was Aemond Targaryen, who ascended to the throne after his older brother Aegon went missing during a voyage to their ancient home, Old Valyria.

King Aemond’s agents informed him that there were suspicious activities in the ruins of Driftmark, a remote island that was once the home of the Velaryon dragon flight.

“There is a boy who calls himself the Blue Prince, your grace.” The chief agent reported. “He declares himself a dragon, a descendant of the Dragon Queen Visenya. He has a small army of cutthroats who are fiercely loyal to him. Blue Talons, they are called.”

“Sounds like another clown who tries to take advantage of our weakness during conflict.” Aemond said. There was constant conflict in Westeros, different kingdoms fighting each other trying to get more lands and privileges. Now, the Reach was fighting the Iron Island.

“It probably is, your grace. Although,” The agent paused before continuing, “the boy speaks of Valyrian magic. He requests an audience with you.”

“I have no time nor interest listening to a self-entitled maniac.” Aemond was ready to dismiss the agent when a third voice chimed in.

“Well, well, no need to be so defensive, my king.” A boy walked out of the shadow in the small council room. He couldn’t be more than four and ten, truly a boy, in a very extravagant outfit with intricate embroidery of dragon scales on his shoulders, pearls adorning his neckline, and a sash across his chest like royalty. He had soft curls and a pair of hazel eyes with slit pupils. His nails are long, almost talon-like, in a light blue color. He didn’t have to introduce himself. He must be the Blue Prince.

“How did you go pass all the guards?” Aemond demanded, his hand resting on the legendary sword, Blackfyre.

“I have my ways.” The Blue Prince shrugged, looking bored. “Your guards are rather incompetent. Maybe I can have some of my Blue Talons stationed in your keep. You could use more capable guards.”

“Seize him!” The agent called. Several knights rushed in to surround the boy, but he neutralized them with a single flick of his hand. All the knights fell to their knees, their eyes clouded with mist as if they were enchanted.

“I am Lucerys Velaryon, the Blue Prince, last of the Velaryon dragon flight. I request an audience with Aemond Targaryen, High King of the seven kingdoms.” The boy said in the most regal manner Aemond had ever seen.

“I have information that suggests there are more of my kin who might still be alive. I am here to help restore the glory of Targaryen Dynasty, if you will let me, my king.”

Aemond stared in awe at those slit pupils that promised danger and destruction, but also glory.

No one trusted the newcomer to the court. The Blue Prince, as he called himself, was a pretentious man, curious, cocky, with no respect for nobility. The ladies liked him for a quick flirt, the lords were wary of his rude questions, but the traitors feared him. The Blue Prince’s army of cutthroats had found and executed more traitors than High King Aemond did when he first ascended the throne.

King Aemond was known to be cruel that he killed his own mentor when the man adamantly insisted Aemond’s older brother Aegon was still alive.

King Aemond was the only one who was glad of Prince Lucerys’s company.

“He’s no dragon,” A lord from the Stormlands whispered, “He’s a siren who has enchanted the king.”

“Careful, my lord. The walls have ears.”

“The king is dealing with the devil. We must eliminate this threat-”

The lord never finished his sentence because a shadow launched on him from above, a small whelp torn his face into shreds before breathed dragon flame on it.

“Let me remind you, good lords, I am indeed a dragon, though not fully grown.”

Lucerys licked the blood from his talons after changing into human form. A group of assassins seized the remaining lords per their master’s order.

“If you will excuse me, I have important matters to discuss with the king.”

Later, in the king’s private study, a pearlescent whelp was purring on the king’s lap. Aemond scratched behind a blue scale behind the whelp’s ear, making him puff out a small trace of smoke.

“They say having me as your adviser is dealing with the devil.” Lucerys said, chewing on a piece of raw meat.

“More like dealing with a spoiled child.” Aemond relied, his quill never left the parchment.

“I am no child. I am twice your age.”

“You are literally the size of my palm.”

Aemond signed his name before putting away the letter he had been writing. He turned his gaze to Lucerys, running his calloused palm down the whelp’s tail. Lucerys huffed and shifted on Aemond’s lap, now his blue belly was exposed for Aemond to caress. The little dragon was so warm that Aemond feared his skin might burn if he continued to touch Lucerys, but Aemond paid it no mind. One should expect to burn when dealing with a dragon.

“There was only one bed.” Lucerys observed, circling the small but well decorated tent.

“And I am only one person.” Aemond replied as he shed the last piece of armor.

“It’s not fit for a king.” Little dragon prince huffed and sat down on the bed, which was incredibly soft considering they were on a trip around the realm.

“As far as I know, you have your own accommodation, blue prince.” Aemond said teasingly, standing in front of Lucerys to let the little dragon resting his talons on Aemond’s undershirt.

“I must make sure my king is well accommodated and safe.” Lucerys used his sharp talon to slice open Aemond’s shirt, careful not to slice open the king’s skin as well.

“What if they smuggle an assassin in? Or a whore?”

“Then I shall have the lord of this land answer to my rage.” Aemond pushed on Lucerys’s chest, making the slender figure drop onto the sheets. The king wasted no time to climb onto his most trusted advisor and lover.

“I can burn them down.” Lucerys said between shower of kisses, “Shall I burn them down for you, my king?”

“Not so fast, my prince.” Aemond was always fascinated by Lucerys’s skin. How could Lucerys have such soft skin while his dragon was covered in sharp and rough scales?

“Seems like my king’s mind is elsewhere tonight.” Lucerys smiled as he wrapped his legs around Aemond’s waist.

“I can’t focus on anything when you are spread out in the bed like a feast for me to devour.”

“I must take responsibility and tend to my king’s needs then.”

Lucerys’s words were lost between their lips. He purred when Aemond scratched behind his ears.

“We will have enough room to rest,” Aemond whispered in his ear, “you can change to your whelp form after I am done with you.”

“These are not the words you should say to a cherished lover.” Lucerys tired to protest but Aemond’s lips on his inner thigh made him dizzy, all witty retorts forgotten.

Aemond only laughed. It seemed the legend was true. Targaryen kings are dragons on their own.

Aegon looked in horror at the piece of raw meat thrown at his feet. The meat was still dripping blood, a salvage odor making Aegon, a well pampered prince, gag.

“What‘s wrong?” The massive dragon who gave Aegon the meat asked him.

“Jacaerys, Jace, my dragon friend and savior.” Aegon said in singsong voice. He was using his best pleading eyes. “Is there any chance I can have cooked meat, please?”

The dragon Jacaerys tilted his horned head, confusion in his golden slit eyes.

“You humans are very demanding.” Jacaerys said. His tone was neutral; it was more like an observation than a reprimand.

“We humans aren’t fit to eat raw meat.” Aegon gestured to the dead lamb in front of Jacaerys. “Unlike you divine creatures.”

“Fine.” Jacaerys opened his massive jaw and breathed a trial of dragon fire at the meat. The meat was burned to char almost immediately. “There. Satisfied?”

Aegon scratched the back of his head. He glanced at Jacaerys, the dragon looking rather pleased with himself, like he had just indulged a small child. His greenish scales looked almost brown under the shade of the Valyrian ruins.

“We will have to talk about human customs more, my friend.” Aegon said, “If you are to fly me back to Westeros and claim my birth right.”

Jacaerys nodded, a golden ring in his curled horn crinkling in the wind.

“What’s this job again?” Joffrey asked as he moving silently through the dark woods with his companion.

“Investigate the murders.” Daeron sighed, lack of sleep wearing his patience thin. “Seriously, you have asked at least 10 times since we hit the road. Are you drunk or something?”

“You were with me at the tavern. You know I am not drunk.” Joffrey moved aside to avoid a thick thunk in the path. He gave Daeron a devilish smile. “Or are you too embarrassed to notice my doings, Citadel boy?”

“I am a well accomplished knight from the royal family. You should show respect.” Daeron rolled his eyes. The looming tower of Harrenhal could be seen in the morning fog.

“A well accomplished knight doesn’t do dirty jobs with a cutthroat.” Joffrey shrugged. “Why is the Citadel so interested in the murders in Harrenhal anyway?”

“There is some report about sighting of a dragon. The Citadel wants to make sure it’s not true.”

“How can they be so sure there is no dragon?” Joffrey stopped at the path leading to the main tower of Harrenhal.

“Dragons are extinct after Aegon’s time.” Daeron turned to look at Joffrey, a cutthroat known for his stealth and cruelty. “It’s common knowledge, even for assassins like you.”

“Are they?” Joffrey’s voice came from behind Daeron.

Daeron felt hairs on the back of neck stand. When did Joffrey circle behind him? What was the sharp talon pressing at his neck?

“You really should have done more research, Citadel boy.”

Jacaerys’s human form was the most handsome man Aegon had ever seen. When Aegon told Jacaerys so, the dragon just laughed and thanked Aegon’s compliment. Jace thought Aegon was merely being polite, but in all honesty, Aegon was telling the truth.

Jacaerys finished another cup of wine, the fifth one in the last hour. They were at a lavish tavern in Volantis, a place even Aegon, the prince of King’s Landing, hadn’t had the opportunity to set foot in. Jacaerys gave the owner a few intricate gold coins from the his hoard, and the owner promised them free flow of the most precious wine in the house.

“Is the wine not to your liking, my friend?” Jacaerys tilted his head, a shining golden earring dangling from his left earlobe. Jacaerys didn’t look exotic; on the contrary, his human form was an average build young man with brown curls brushing against the base of his neck. His eyes were a greenish brown with slit pupils, same as his dragon form, the most attractive part of his face in Aegon’s opinion.

“I never thought one day I would be getting this question.” Aegon joked halfheartedly, nursing his own wine. “Most people think that I will get drunk by horse piss.”

“Is this supposed to be a joke?” Jacaerys asked, despite consuming alcohol at a far more faster pace than Aegon, he didn’t seem to be buzzed at all. “Forgive me, I am not familiar with human customs. I have never met any human except you.”

The confused look on Jacaerys’s face made Aegon chuckle. It was nice to have someone not regard him as a useless drunk for a change. What’s more, he just learned he was the first human to befriend Jacaerys. Even if Aegon didn’t want to stop at friends, it warmed his heart to know he was somehow special to Jace, just as Jace was special to him.

“So you had never saved another dumb human who almost drowned himself after crashing at the shore of old Valyria?” Aegon asked, leaning in to Jacaerys.

“Humans avoid the Valyrian ruins. Not all humans are as brave as you.” Jacaerys said sincerely. “That’s why I agreed to accompany you back.”

Aegon’s heart swelled at the words. He was always viewed as a failure, an incompetent drunk who wasn’t fit to rule. His brother Aemond was more popular with the nobles. Aegon went on a reckless trip to explore the ancient seat of Targaryen dynasty, hoping to find some legacy to prove his worth. Aegon didn’t expect to find a full-grown dragon, not to mention said dragon was kind enough to save him from drowning. Jacaerys looked so kind, generous, and handsome that Aegon couldn’t help but kiss him on the lips. If Jacaerys asked, Aegon would tell the dragon that this was a human custom to show gratitude.

“Do you have any brothers?” Aemond asked as he snatched the parchment Lucerys seemed so fascinated to read. It was a family tree of the Targaryen kings.

“Huh?” Lucerys pouted slightly but let the king take away the parchment without a fight.

“Brothers, or sisters? Since you seem to be so interested in studying my family tree, I wonder if you know yours.” Aemond lifted Lucerys and sat the dragon prince on his lap.

“You mean clutchmates, my king?” Lucerys reached out to take the eye patch off, revealing the striking sapphire underneath.

“I didn’t know that’s how dragons call their siblings.” Aemond took the soft hand stroking his scar and brought it to his mouth to plant small kisses on the knuckles.

“I told you, I am the only dragon left, last of my kind.” Lucerys said, “Although the witch who helped me hatch told me that my egg was the last clutch from the dragon queen Visenya. There were supposed to be three of us, but one of the eggs was lost in the conqueror’s war; another cracked and died.”

Aemond was lost for words. He wasn’t particularly close to his own siblings but at least his siblings were all alive. Well, except for Aegon, who was lost at sea trying to sail for old Valyria, but Aemond hated Aegon to an extent that he stopped regarding Aegon as his brother a long time ago.

“My condolences, sweet Lucerys.” Aemond called the spoiled dragon prince nick names to cheer him up. He knew Lucerys liked to be called all kinds of silly names, including when they were consummating their sacred union.

“Don’t be, my king.” Lucerys smiled, sharp teeth visible between his lips. “Your reign is strengthened by my support as the last dragon. You don’t want too many dragons flying around the realm, do you? That will make my unique place beside you lose its privilege.”

“There can be a thousand dragons out there but you will always be the unique one. My dragon consort.” Aemond pressed their lips together as he sneaked a hand into Lucerys’s loose shirt.

Lucerys all but purred. A pair of small ruby studs adorned his ears.

Joffrey was losing patience. He was taught never to lose patience but a certain annoying knight made him want to forgo all his learning and let his dragon instinct take control.

“You can’t just kill a lord.” Daeron insisted, placing himself between Joffrey’s sharp talon and a frighten lord.

“Why can’t I?” Joffrey gritted his teeth. “Do you know what he did? He supported blood magic under his roof. He killed innocent pregnant women and used their unborn children to restore the life force of a dragon egg.”

Daeron pursed his lips and said nothing. He didn’t know if Joffrey was telling the truth although a part of him knew the dragon was honest with him. Joffrey was always honest with him.

“The dragon egg is you.” Daeron stated out the obvious. “He was trying to revive you.”

“I was never supposed to hatch. I should remain dead.” Joffrey pushed Daeron aside to drag the lord to his feet and pointed his talon to the lord’s neck. “I was conscious the whole time. I witnessed their monstrosity but wasn’t able to stop them then. Not now. Now they will pay for their crimes.”

Daeron tried to stop Joffrey but he was too late. The talon slashed open the lord’s neck, almost beheaded him. The lord was dead within seconds.

“Get out of my way, Citadel boy.” Joffrey licked off the blood from his talon. “I didn’t kill you last time, but I might kill you now.”

“You won’t. I have indeed done my research and I discovered a pattern. You only kill men who had blood on their hands.” Daeron had no idea if Joffrey would stick up this pattern. He was risking his own life but Daeron didn’t regret it one bit. Maesters at Citadel warned him of lures, of vile creatures who would shatter the resolve of the most honorable man. Daeron didn’t believe he would subject to such allure but he was wrong.

“Don’t get too smart. And stop following me.” Joffrey turned to leave, only to hear the stubborn footsteps following him. He could fly away but he didn’t. Joffrey didn’t know why.

“You know, a monster that man might be, but at least he did one thing right. He brought you to this world .” Daeron was silent for a while before speaking.

“The biggest sin in his life.” Joffrey replied. “Certain things better remain dead. Dragons are one of them. I will make sure to kill every single one of my remaining kin.”

“What about yourself?”

“Maybe I can give the honor to you.”

If Joffrey turned back now, he wound see the determination in Daeron’s eyes. This annoying knight was determined to annoy Joffrey for all eternity.

“What part of the word run don’t you understand?!” Joffrey hissed exasperatedly, pressing at his shoulder where blood was staining his shirt. There was a barbed arrow head embedded in his flesh minutes ago from an ambush, but Joffrey pulled it out without second thought.

“Shhh, quiet.” Daeron peeked from where they were hiding, inside a hollow formed by tangled roots of an ancient tree. “They haven’t left yet.”

“If they stay any longer, they won't be able to find their way back.” Joffrey wrinkled his nose as he could smell the rot in his own blood; the arrow must be poisoned.

Daeron gave him a confused look, which made Joffrey laugh. This insufferable mortal wouldn’t leave Joffrey side, not knowing he was putting himself in grave danger. It was not that Joffrey would hurt him, not yet anyway, but the enchanted forest rumored to be able to swallow men whole.

“When I told you to run, I actually meant it.” Joffrey sneered, trying to ignore the numb feeling spreading from his shoulder. “This forest is alive. It changes constantly that no man can navigate their way around. But the woods cannot trap me. As a dragon, I can simply fly out. That’s why I told you to run when I was luring our enemies into the woods!”

“You expect me to run after you took an arrow for me?” Daeron ducked his head to avoid a few twigs dangling from above. He squeezed himself in the hollow beside Joffrey. The hiding spot was so cramped that not a single sheet of paper can fit in their tightly pressed body.

“Well, that was the rational choice. A small arrow won't hurt me but it will probably pierce through your weak mortal heart.” Joffrey was trying very hard to stay conscious, the poison starting to cloud his mind and making his whole body go limb.

“You saved my life, Joffrey. Why you have to put it that way like you don’t care about other people?” Daeron sighed as he cranked his neck to listen to any incoming footsteps.

“I don’t care about other people.” Joffrey said, more of a reminder to himself. His eyelids were now heavy like lead, eyes almost rolled back as he pressed his burning cheek on the cool shoulder plate of Daeron’s armor.

“Joffrey?” Daeron felt the dragon’s incredibly hot breath on his neck, burning his skin. It was too hot even for dragon standards. “Are you all right?”

“I will be.” Joffrey swallowed a lump in his throat, “Just, give me a minute.”

Daeron remained absolutely still, supporting Joffrey’s weight as best as he could. The dragon shivered slightly as if he was cold, despite his burning temperature. Joffrey seemed to be in a state of illusion as he mumbled incoherently into Daeron’s neck, thick curls brushing against Daeron’s collar bone. Daeron hesitantly brought his hand up to hover above Joffrey’s waist; the only thing that stopped him from wrapping his arms around Joffrey was the dragon’s threat before they hit the road not to touch him under any circumstances.

But Joffrey was not conscious. He couldn’t have known. Daeron was just comforting his dragon friend. Before Daeron realized what he was doing, he had already wrapped his arms around Joffrey’s waist and was holding the dragon tightly to his chest. There were footsteps outside so Daeron had no choice but to press Joffrey’s face into his neck to muffle any rambling sounds.

Daeron had no idea how much time had passed. It could be minutes, or hours, but Joffrey finally let out a shaky breath and regained his consciousness.

“How are you feeling?” Daeron asked, rubbing a soothing hand along Joffrey’s back, “You seemed to have lost yourself.”

“I had a dream.” Joffrey whispered, the normal harshness in his tone was gone, now he only sounded gentle and tired. “A bad one. People died because of me.”

Daeron waited for a few minutes but Joffrey remained silent, so Daeron understood his dragon friend didn't want to share more. Joffrey was always private about his past, and despite his curiosity, Daeron didn’t probe. All Daeron knew about Joffrey was that the dragon was hatched quite recently, but he was induced to grow faster than he naturally should, which had affected his body, making him hard to maintain his dragon form.

“It was only a dream.” Daeron was about to say something more, but a loud bang from outside interrupted this tender moment. Shouting and screaming could be heard over their mingled breath.

Joffrey cursed under his breath. He pushed at Daeron’s chest plate in an attempt to get up, but the hollow seemed to collapse in on them, making the already small place more cramped and suffocating.

“Get out!” Joffrey kicked Daeron out literally before stumbling out himself, barely avoiding to be crashed by the tree.

Outside, it was chaos. The woods had come to life; the ground caved in, trapping their assassins and the branches wrapped around those grown men, strangling and killing them. The grasses beneath Joffrey and Daeron’s feet crawled up their legs in an attempt to trip them, but with a swift move of his sword, Daeron sliced the vile vegetation in half.

“We need to get out of the woods!” Daeron yelled between swings of his sword.

“Lose your armor.” Joffrey said, using his own sword to fight off all the twigs and grasses.

“What?”

“Lose your damn armor!” Joffrey yelled back, “I can’t carry both you and your stupid heavy armor on my back!”

Daeron barely had any time to process what Joffrey meant before Joffrey changed into his dragon form. In front of Daeron was a black drake with golden lines on his chest and the tip of his wings. The drake was about the size of two large horses, barely able to carry a grown man on its back. The drake, Joffrey, poked Daeron with his snout, golden eyes full of impatience. Daeron set out to work quickly, shedding his armor plates, leaving only a thin shirt and tunic on. He grabbed his sword and mounted on Joffrey’s back. The drake struggled a few times, and with great effort, he finally took off.

Lucerys had an ominous feeling the moment he woke up that day. First, the other side of the mattress was empty and cold, indicating Aemond had already gotten up. The lack of body heat and his lover made Lucerys grumpy. Second, he couldn’t find his favorite bracelet, a beautiful piece made from carved gold, with a large ruby embedded in the middle. It went perfectly with his ruby stud earrings. Rumor had it that the ruby on the Blue Prince’s bracelet was more precious than the one on the conqueror’s crown. Lucerys himself might or might not have contributed to such rumor.

Aemond was caught up in council meetings today, which, in Lucerys’s opinion, was a complete waste of time. Even his agents were better politicians than Aemond’s councilmen. Lucerys had suggested Aemond to dismiss his useless small council and employ some wise advisors and capable soldiers.

“I can’t rule with schemers and cutthroats.” Aemond replied to Lucerys’s suggestion. The king was a terrifying man but he was no tyrant. He ruled with honor and justice.

“Why not?” Lucerys raised an eyebrow in exaggeration. Aemond just laughed and shifted Lucerys over so the little dragon could sit comfortably on his lap. Lucerys didn’t remember the rest of their conversation because of the intense love-making.

Lucerys was enjoying his tea while examining a tome from Old Valyria when he received a report from one of his most trusted agents. There was a witness report of a dragon flying in the direction of King’s Landing. Lucerys almost tore the tome in his talons to shreds.

There was no way any dragon survived other than him. But, was he sure? Lucerys cursed himself for not bothering to check if there was any trace of his kin. Lucerys was confident to face any threats from mortals, but from his own kin? The Blue Prince was not so sure.

Lucerys met Aemond at the gate of the Red Keep. Apparently, the king was alerted as well.

“Are you sure there is a dragon flying towards here?” Aemond asked Lucerys’s agent, but the man in light leather coat ignored the king, turning to Lucerys for instruction instead.

“Speak.” Lucerys commanded as he stood beside Aemond. “Anything you say to me, you can say to my king.”

“Positive, my prince, your grace.” The man nodded, “It’s small black drake. One of our men reported that it had took flight from the Kingswood.”

“No way. The Kingswood was cursed. Nothing can come out alive.” Aemond said in a stern voice.

“Not if it’s a dragon.” Lucerys pursed his lips. “Westeros magic has no effect on dragons. The Kingswood was not cursed; it was merely enchanted by forest witches.”

“Is it hostile? The drake?” Aemond put a hand on Lucerys’s shoulder to calm his lover.

“No indication of any hostility. But it seemed to be injured on the wing.”

“How large is it?” Lucerys was desperate to know if the drake presented any threat. Lucerys might be a powerful dragon, but he was hatched mere decades ago and was now just a small whelp. He could beat an average drake with his cunning, but he was no match for a full-grown dragon.

“About the size of –” The agent didn’t have the chance to finish his sentence because a shadow appeared at the horizon. It became larger and larger as it came near the Red Keep.

Lucerys squeezed Aemond’s hand, digging his talons into the king’s skin, drawing small beads of blood. One king’s guard was ready to come forward, but Aemond dismissed him with a glare.

The shadow was now close enough to make out what it was. Surprisingly, it was not a dragon. It was a horse, not even a war horse, just a common horse mostly found in farms. There were two men mounting on it, one with short silver hair cradling his companion, a young man with dark curls and ashen skin.

Lucerys let out a sigh of relief but Aemond seemed to be surprised to see them. Lucerys noticed the blonde’s hair was the same shade as Aemond.

“Stop right there, brother.” Aemond raised his voice with all the authority he had. “One step closer, and you will be executed by breaking your exile.”

The horse was pulled to an abrupt stop.

Daeron dismounted, and carefully held Joffrey’s limp body to his chest. Joffrey was still unconscious, which worried Daeron to the core and was the reason why he rushed to King’s Landing on the horse he had stolen from a farm, all honor and knighthood standards forgotten. Joffrey collapsed after exerting himself, and he remained in a deep slumber for the past three days.

“To what do I owe the honor, brother?” Aemond stepped forward as several guards behind him drew their swords, including Lucerys’s agent.

“I come in peace.” Daeron said, although he didn’t the king would believe him. Daeron was Aemond’s younger brother, a third son with no titles and inheritance. Even though Daeron never wanted the throne, there were men trying to rebel in his name. Aemond exiled his little brother after he took the throne.

Aemond didn’t answer. Daeron was surprised to find another figure beside him, a slender young man with a youthful face and a sneer lingering at his lips. Aemond was never one for company, but he seemed to be comfortable around this man.

“Speak your purpose. Don’t keep your king waiting.”

“I merely ask for assistance. My friend is injured and I hope the court maester can cure him.” Daeron casted a quick glance to Joffrey before looking up.

“Why should I grant you such assistance?” Aemond was still not convinced that Daeron came all the way to King’s Landing without any ill intentions.

Before Daeron could speak, Lucerys came forward. His chocolate pupils were slit and had a blue hue to them, intimidating and enchanting at the same time.

“I am afraid we have to receive your brother, my king.” Lucerys said, narrowing his eyes, “I smell dragon from his companion.”

#lucemond #joffron #Jacegon

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