#like most of the time the incest is just carelessness and them not having a lore bible

[yuridovewing]

if bonefall’s hunch about the erins wanting to snipe all the fanon gay ships is true (which im inclined to believe it is) there reallyyyy is something disgusting about how theyll retcon any interaction that could be read as queer, while simultaneously being like. “creepy age gaps and incest is cute actually hehehe”

[violetrainbow412-blog]

From hate to love… or something like that

Aegon II Targaryen x fem!reader

word count: 15.7k (sorrrryyyy)

warnings: arranged marriage, hate-to-love, mentions of rape, mentions of incest, mentions of suicidal thoughts, drinking alcohol, mommy issues, daddy issues, mentions of sex without love, unprotected sex, oral sex (f receiving), porn with plot (but something cheap, tbh) and I probably forgot something but I think that makes it clear that this shit is not for minors, so MINORS DNI :)

A/N: I started this since the second season premiere started so if you find any canon-like scenes I completely promise it wasn't intentional. I also want to make it clear that you are responsible for what you read and if you don't like something please just let it go, that would be very kind of you!

And this doesn't make me team green at all, I'm a defender of the rightful queen to the death… it's just that her brother is too sexy to ignore 🫦

Enjoy!

taglist (who I thought might be interested): @barcelonaloverf1life @ilovequeen978

FIRST ACT: HATE

Finding a wife for Prince Aegon II was probably one of the most difficult tasks Alicent Hightower had to face.

The engagement with his sister Helaena had been broken after a more tempting offer for the princess, which would get them a permanent alliance with the Lannister house that they couldn’t refuse. Viserys himself had agreed to accept and the queen consort had no choice but to give her little daughter in marriage to a blonde lord. The problem was that her son was left without a fiancée.

Aemond didn't worry her, after all he was growing up quite quickly and she knew that he was more inclined to become a warrior than to fulfill his marital responsibilities. But Aegon, however, was a lost cause.

It was no secret that Alicent had always felt disappointed in her eldest son. He was careless, lazy, and a hopeless alcoholic, qualities that couldn’t be celebrated at all. Now that her beloved father had returned, the queen didn’t hesitate to consult him on the matter, hoping that the man had a solution for the problem that afflicted her, and together they analyzed what was the best option to unite the king's first-born son. Especially after, years ago, Rhaenyra and Daemon got married and moved to Dragonstone indefinitely.

“It must be someone we completely trust, someone who cannot dare to hurt us because they know that their blood is linked to ours.”

The Arryns were loyal to the future queen Rhaenyra and some of the houses south of Vale were too. The Westerlands was the richest section of the Seven Kingdoms and was already secured, so it seemed prudent to the king's hand to go for the next widest section: The Reach. The most formidable options within this area were the Hightower and the Tyrell. Obviously taking the first option would be a waste since the members of that house would support Aegon without complaint due to their kinship, so the decision was made with the direct heir of Highgarden.

King Viserys agreed to the idea without putting up many obstacles, since poppy milk clouded his judgment most of the time and also the affairs of his first son had never interested him much.

The union was sealed as soon as the deal was offered to Lyonel Tyrell, who was extremely happy to be able to assure his family a future with said marriage. It was thus that he gave you, his only daughter, to Prince Aegon II Targaryen.

And the second the boy saw you, he absolutely hated you.

He had come to the idea (very unpleasant, by the way) of marrying his younger sister and now that his mother was forcing him to marry a complete stranger, he couldn't be angrier. In a short time he would turn twenty and it seemed pathetic to him that at that point he would have to offer shows like those before the kingdom. Because the wedding wasn’t simple, of course, but thousands and thousands of guests were present at the banquet that Alicent forced the king to prepare, claiming by saying that he had done the same for Princess Rhaenyra's wedding.

“It is a pleasure to finally see each other, your grace. They have told me a lot about you”

You had said those precise words the first time you had met, when his mother organized a walk so that you could 'get to know each other better', although supervised by her own eyes that were behind you, making sure that her son didn’t commit any indecency. But no matter how sweetly you smiled and spoke them, Aegon could sense that you were lying.

There was hatred in your eyes and a clear resentment towards the life from which you were torn, as if it weren’t an honor to have the opportunity to marry the prince of the seven kingdoms. Your hypocritical words represented an insult to the boy and that is why he decided from the first moment that he would hate you deeply.

With your mere existence you would have deprived him of his freedom, his entertainment, his youth. He would be tied to you for future occasions, he would have to take you to all the events, secure your food, your clothes. share the same roof and pretend to be nice to you in the eyes of others. And, besides, he could have thought of a lot of candidates better than you, physically speaking. Your beauty was quite ordinary for his taste, as if he were looking at any painting; cheap and repetitive.

“I regret to admit that I am not so fortunate, Lady Tyrell. But I am happy for the union of our houses” he lied, in the same way that you had done.

And it was obvious that this didn’t go unnoticed by you, that you had the same critical eye as your recent fiancé but that you sought to maintain composure in the presence of your future mother-in-law.

On the wedding day Aegon had a good time only because he was able to drown himself in monumental quantities of liquor and because he was able to eat as much as he wanted of the exquisite banquet. He didn't even pay a bit of attention to how you looked in the wedding dress that the royal seamstresses had been in charge of making in record time, because when the time came he flattered you superficially and then ignored the matter. The ceremony kiss was the first you shared, and it was so fleeting and awkward that the prince felt disappointed. On the wedding night he was so drunk that he didn't even look at you.

You knew that the unfortunate day would come when you would have to carnally please the young man and the simple thought of being defiled in this way caused you terror and nausea in equal parts.

It was a stranger whom you had married, of whom the only thing you knew was his noble title and name.

In the days following your marriage, unfortunately or fortunately, Aegon didn’t even speak to you. You didn't have to share a room, so it was easier for him to completely ignore you while he went about his ways.

You had to admit that the only good thing about having taken this trip was the beautiful landscapes that King's Landing offered you. Your room had a direct view of Blackwater Bay and you spent several days looking out the window at the beautiful sea. Sometimes you could watch Prince Aemond ride his dragon, and honestly, the size of the beast scared you a little. You hadn't had the chance to observe Aegon in Sunfyre yet but if he was as impressive as Vhagar, then he would be quite a sight.

A week passed, then another and another where you were nothing more than a guest in the palace. You didn't talk to anyone, you ate dinner alone, you barely saw the outside of the castle. Sometimes you went to the Sept, pretending to pray, but really just killing the endless boring hours of the day. You were somewhat lucky if you found Helaena, the most sensible and calm within the royal family, because you had pleasant conversations with her. When you met the queen it was a little more difficult, because she asked you endless questions in which you had to fake the answers. How could you be fulfilling your parenting responsibilities if the capricious prince wouldn't deign to lay a finger on you?

After a month, Alicent seemed to take matters into her own hands and forced her eldest son to take you to sleep in the same room as him. However, Aegon seemed to want to blame you for something you hadn't chosen. He never spoke to you and every time you went to bed, he would stand with his back to you as far away as possible. And as if that weren’t enough, he had explicitly ordered his guards not to allow you to leave the room unless it was in his company. It was his way of punishing you, of getting even for the complaints of his mother and grandfather regarding his lack of interest in marriage.

“My mother wants us to attend a dinner tonight” you were so unaccustomed to hearing his voice addressing you that it took you a second to process what he was telling you “I will talk to the maids to bring you a suitable dress.”

You didn't know what to say. You didn't want to go to that dinner, nor did you want to be with him, or wear one of those tight, annoying dresses. Aegon, noticing your silence, deigned to look at you and in your eyes he could see the aversion you felt for him. It was something difficult to mask and he had seen it on so many faces that it was nothing new.

“As you wish, prince.”

A bitter laugh came from your husband's throat.

“Don't be a hypocrite, for God's sake. I know you hate me as much as I hate you. Save appearances for guests, not in the chambers."

You wouldn’t have had the courage to admit out loud what his majesty had said, but you didn’t dare to contradict him either. You had to play the role of a self-sacrificing and suitable wife for the man if you wanted to keep your honor, but above all your head.

You tried, with all your might, to see some quality in Aegon that you liked so that you could treat him in a better way, which always resulted in something useless. Perhaps if he had been nicer to you, you could have known how to forgive his faults, but even that wasn’t granted to you.

The dinner was mostly family-oriented, with the guest of honor being from House Baratheon whose purpose was to discuss some political matters with the king and queen. Due to his health, Viserys didn’t usually leave his room more than necessary, however, that night the occasion warranted it.

“Lady Tyrell, how is your stay in King's Landing?”

The king had a reputation for being gentle with his guests and was the first person to ask you a personal question, so the smile you showed him was genuine.

“Very pleasant, your grace. The servants treat me as well as possible and I must admit that the views from my room are beautiful. Your dragon is impressive, Prince Aemond, by the way.”

The boy, who wasn't all that expressive, just looked at you for a moment and tilted his head down slightly.

“I'm glad you like it, princess.”

"And my son? How is our Aegon treating you?”

That question was more complicated to answer, since it required expressing a lie. Everyone present focused their attention on you, except your husband who had been staring into nothingness for a long time.

“Very well, my king. He’s a good husband and I am happy to have been able to unite our houses.”

The aforementioned snorted, incredulous at what you were saying at the table, and took a long drink from his glass of wine.

“And I hope very soon you can give us strong and beautiful heirs.”

Although that was intended as a compliment, you felt the weight of that responsibility pressing down on you again.

“I wish the same. It will be an honor to serve the crown and bear the progeny of a house as formidable as yours."

The queen was pleased with your answer and for a moment felt sorry for you. She knew her son well, so deep down she knew that it wasn’t a gift from the gods to be married to him. The rest of the table looked at you curiously, wondering if you were serious, trying to be ironic, or just trying to play the good girl role.

Aegon, as expected, became intoxicated during dinner and when Queen Alicent announced that she was going to retire to sleep you thought it prudent to do the same. Your husband, however, had other wishes.

“Stay here,” he asked, his voice serious.

When he was drunk he looked you up and down, probably evaluating how worth it would be to decide to strip you naked and fuck you once and for all. Your body in the dress you were wearing looked better with a few drinks on him.

“I think it would be best to retire, my husband. This way you can stay with the men to chat and… drink”

“But I want you to stay here to keep me company,” he insisted, holding your wrist tightly “Or don't you want to please your prince?”

It wasn’t a loving request, but one for control. He wanted to have you there only to demonstrate his power over you, without paying attention to you or talking; only as an ornament.

“Aegon, enough,” Alicent interrupted, observing the scene that had begun to unfold. “Daughter, let's go to sleep. “I will accompany you”

“Fine, do whatever you want,” he spat contemptuously, abruptly releasing the wrist that was holding you. There was hatred in his eyes, but also pride.

The queen said goodbye to everyone present and then offered you her hand to take you away from there. You spent most of the way in silence, walking through the long, wide corridors of the fortress followed only by the faithful footsteps of Ser Criston Cole.

“You must be patient with him” he began to say “He is a particular man and sometimes… difficult, but I know that with your docile character you will be able to deal with his temperament.”

What did she know about your character? She didn't know you at all.

“So it shall be, Queen Alicent.”

“I understand what you are going through, dear. We both come from the same lands to endure the difficult task of accompanying a monarch. But it is our duty to carry it out with all the honor and temper worthy of our homes. Of course, I can trust that as a woman you will be able to help him fulfill another of the most important marital commitments, such as having children, to maintain the lineage and blood. For a virgin like you, Aegon may be rough, but... patience and resilience are among the best virtues. A woman in royalty must endure these things to give the best to the people.”

You had never wanted to be a princess. And just when you thought the queen was showing you compassion, you realized that she was only looking out for her interests and those of her family.

"Thanks for the advice. I'll keep it in mind"

She smiled and immediately left a kiss on your forehead, which could have been taken as a maternal kiss but which you didn't like at all. The longer you can postpone suffering, the better. If Aegon didn't even want to look at you, it was perfect.

That night, as soon as you touched the mattress and the silk sheets that decorated it, you began to cry until you fell asleep.

SECOND ACT: CONTROL

Time passed again and although the punishment of not leaving your room was not revoked, you found multiple activities with which to entertain yourself in the prince's absence. You filled your mornings and afternoons with reading, writing, knitting and embroidering. The nights were even more boring because most of the time your husband wasn't there either.

Rumors that you hadn’t yet consummated the marriage had spread through the halls of the palace and soon the smallfolk would murmur too. After all, the people couldn’t entertain themselves with anything more than the gossip and the plays that were going on in the poor neighborhoods, making fun of royal affairs.

You no longer even had the energy to deny those accusations and Aegon had given you the perfect opportunity by throwing you out of his room and refusing to leave the four walls of yours: if you didn't leave there, there was no way anyone would question you. And since you didn't have family inside the Keep, you didn't have any visitors either.

One night, however, your husband surprised you by entering your room. It had been days since you two had seen each other and his staggering around the room warned you that he was drunk again. You often wondered how he resisted drinking so much and the long-term effects it would have on his health, but right now your mind could only focus on the fear of what he might want in that state.

“Good night, dear,” he drawled, sounding as sarcastic as possible.

You were in your nightgown and you were carrying in your hand an old book that you had been reading and that you threw on the nightstand as soon as you saw him approaching you. You didn't have time to say or do anything else when he had already approached you in giant steps to grab you by the back of your neck and start kissing you. He was abrupt, careless, with his mouth smelling of wine and tasting even worse. You wanted to cry from helplessness.

“It's what everyone wants, isn't it?” he murmured, separating himself from you, but still holding you by the hair at the back of your neck. “A marriage arranged in a couple of days to form alliances. And that's it, my life was ruined thanks to my father wanting your stupid castle to expand his domain."

The truth is that couldn't be further from the truth. Viserys’s ambition had never been that, as he had been so little involved in the process that he simply didn’t care who his children were or were not married to. Except for Rhaenyra, of course.

Aegon continued:

"I didn’t want this. I didn't want to marry you, or anyone..."

“And you think I do?” you confronted him.

You were tired of the insult, the humiliation and him ignoring you as if you were worthless; even if that was what a husband did. And the most likely thing was that your words would be forgotten due to alcohol or that they would put an end to the wait for your suffering to begin and Aegon decided to take you once and for all.

“You have nothing to lose, prince,” you continued. “You get drunk as much as you want, you run away from your responsibilities and walk everywhere when I have to stay locked up here all day just because you want me to. I have to endure the suspicious looks of everyone because I still don't have an heir in the womb while you go and fuck your whores."

“I'm the prince and I fuck whoever I want, did you hear me?” he hissed. The grip on your hair had already begun to become painful and a few tears slipped down your cheeks “And I stop fucking whoever I want too. I'm not going to please anyone by getting you pregnant. There they will see if they come and force me to put my cock in you”

“Do you doubt that, your grace?” you exclaimed bitterly “Doubts that will force us to conceive?”

“So that's what you want? Do you want me to do it?”

“I want to go home. That is what I want. But my father used me as a bargaining chip and that's why I can't do anything."

“I'm sorry it was like that. If I had chosen my wife, I would surely have chosen someone prettier and more educated than you, but I can't do much either."

Once again, the man pushed you until your lips joined his and the same discomfort settled in you. He didn't kiss you with love, but with fury and violence to the point that you had to push him away when he bit you so hard that a trickle of blood began to come out of your lower lip. Aegon was also stained by it and with an acidic smile he ran the tip of his tongue all over his mouth to remove any traces.

Looking at you he didn't look happy, but he didn't look angry either. He just seemed fed up.

Everyone knew, or suspected, that the prince was very capable of taking sexual advantage of any woman. He had done it before with maids and prostitutes and had slept peacefully throughout that time. However, there was something about you that encouraged him not to. He didn't even think it was something about you specifically but about the situation, because he wanted to do the opposite of what he was ordered: if everyone ordered him to take you to have an heir, it automatically became an unpleasant act and at the same time that he refused.

He was hurt, not because of you but because of years and years of abuse and neglect. He didn't really know you at all, he only knew what you represented.

You were just the unlucky one who had married him.

"I hate you. I hate that you are my wife and you are not worthy of me even touching you” he snapped with disdain. You were still fighting to keep the tears inside your eyes and his vision had also blurred slightly “I wish I had never met you.”

“The feeling is mutual, your grace,” you expressed, your voice breaking. If it was an offense to the crown, you wouldn't even care anymore and if he killed you right there you wouldn't regret it too much either.

Aegon looked at you one last time before staggering back out the door without another word, closing it behind him with a loud gesture and leaving you alone in the room. The reality that you had escaped, once again, from being raped by the man fell on you like a bucket of cold water and your knees weakened until you fell to the floor.

You were hurt, tired, and defeated by the stress of the situation and the fear that had washed over you the entire time. Luckily he was gone, otherwise you didn't know if you would have endured what he had to do to you. It was better to have him busy in a brothel than to have to endure him in your bed.

You wished you could talk to someone and cry on a loved one’s shoulder, only to realize a second later that that was impossible. Aegon was your new family, now you belonged to the Targaryens and you would have to do as they wished.

Anger completely overwhelmed you to the point where you stood up from your seat and began throwing pieces of glassware all over the room, in a violent outburst at what had just happened and the way you felt. None of the guards outside your door dared to come in to check on you and soon enough you fell back to the ground, exhausted from the effort.

As you cried, perhaps for the umpteenth time since you had been married, you thought about how you would never be able to love Prince Aegon. Not even if you tried.

THIRD ACT: PAIN

After months, the inevitable arrived. The truth was that the first time you felt sorrow and anger, but the following times it became more tolerable. Not because it was better, but because you began to get used to it. Aegon didn't change his attitude towards you one bit. You indeed spent more time together, although that didn’t mean that you got along better or that you had begun to have more sympathy for each other.

The only advantage was that you had started to be friends with some people in the palace. Your sister-in-law, to begin with, as well as some of the maids who were in charge of looking after you, as they turned out to be your only company during those days. Those distractions were more than enough for you, considering the situation you were in, and they kept you sane as time went by.

Almost like a punishment from heaven, it seemed that you weren’t pregnant yet, since your biological processes seemed to continue working to the letter. That meant that, unfortunately, you would have to keep trying; when Aegon was lost enough to forget who you were and you had to stand still as a statue to let him loom over you.

You often liked to imagine what your life would have been like if you had stayed in Highgarden. Nobody knew it yet, but there you had found your first love and although it never went beyond a few kisses, you treasured the memory with particular affection. You had always wanted to marry a sweet man who loved and respected you, who would give you your place as a wife and adore you day and night; someone with whom you could feel protected, cared for, but above all happy. You thought, naively, that that boy you had met and who was nothing more than a commoner could have given you that life, but all those possibilities were nothing more than fantasies in which you tried to lock yourself in to feel less miserable with your unpleasant reality.

One night Helaena had invited you to a modest dinner in her company that you couldn't refuse, since none of your husbands were present and some time with friends could clear your mind. You didn't even know where the prince was, although it was expected that he was spending some time in the town with his friends.

“Sometimes I feel sad about our situation,” said the blonde. You were in the privacy of her chambers, not even with the maids present, so confessions like that were allowed “But I am happy that you are my friend, something that wouldn’t have been possible otherwise.”

“I'm glad to talk to you too,” you smiled sincerely. “You're the best thing I've found around here.”

“My brothers aren't that bad, they're just… well, we've had a hard life. And that's why they behave like that."

“I think there is no justification for being a…” idiot, you wanted to say, but you had to remember that you were in the presence of the princess, “a person who is rude to others. But I guess that happens with royalty, right? They do what they want without consequences”

"I guess so. Kings, princes, the heirs, lords, dukes…”

“Okay, I get it,” you laughed bitterly “It's probably a masculine quality.”

You never thought your sister-in-law would have that kind of humor and to be honest, most of the time she was a comic relief for the situations you two were going through. Sometimes her prophecies scared you, especially the way she phrased them, but you wanted to think that her premonitions would never affect you directly.

When you finally got tired of chatting and the food was finished, you decided to return to your room, so you could have a peaceful night's rest. It was raining outside and thunder echoed in the distance, making the atmosphere slightly gloomy, but at the same time cooling every corner of King's landing.

The novelty of your position was no longer important enough to require you to be escorted by guards twenty-four hours a day, so you were able to slowly walk through all the corridors that led to your sanctuary. It was modest but cute, although not on the level of Aegon’s.

A man was guarding the door and you bowed your head to him to let you pass, which he did without any opposition. Once inside you got rid of your shoes and unbuttoned your corset, not caring that the room was almost in darkness; only the moonlight illuminated from the window. You took a few steps forward and squealed when you discovered that there was another person in the room, sitting at the small table with a drink in his hand. You would have started screaming for help if you hadn't noticed that said intruder had silver hair falling like a curtain over his face.

"Your grace?" you asked cautiously.

It isn’t usual for Aegon to drink in your room, as he preferred other places with more interesting company, and when you didn’t receive an answer you approached slowly. You thought that at best he had simply fallen asleep and at worst he would be dead.

At first his long, wavy hair covered your view of his face, but when he noticed your presence he raised his head and then you could see him. His features became clearer as lightning illuminated him from the outside and for a second you were horrified.

His cheek was red and a trickle of blood was dripping from his nose, however, what surprised you the most was seeing his eyes completely swollen.

“For the seven, I… I'll go call a maester”

“Don't even think about it,” he exclaimed hoarsely, seeing that you were already rushing towards the door.

Your husband didn't sound like his usual angry tone, but rather he seemed... hurt.

You thought for a second about what the appropriate reaction to the situation was. You couldn't leave the room because, in addition to the guards murmuring, it would be impolite to leave him in that state; also, where would you go? If you ignored him, he would probably take it as an insult and he had already made it clear that he didn't want to see someone who could take care of those injuries.

You hated him, it was true, but you weren't an insensitive monster either.

"Who did this to you?"

Aegon was surprised by how soft, even kind, your question sounded and the intoxication gave him some courage to answer.

“My mother and my grandfather. Mostly my mother, my grandfather rather dedicated his efforts to reminding me how useless I am”

You didn't know what to say. You never believed that the queen would be capable of hitting one of her sons like that. You didn't believe it from any mother, actually.

With some trepidation you took one of the chairs and placed it in front of him, expecting him to immediately push you away or ask you to get out of his sight. However, the prince didn't seem to have enough energy to do any of those things.

He had a lost look on his face and tears began to run down his face.

“Nothing… nothing I do pleases her. Neither to her, nor to my grandfather. All the time they are pressuring me, demanding me, yelling at me. Apparently Otto still hopes that my father will name me king, but I've never wanted that. They blame me for drinking all the time and how do they expect them not to? My father cares so little about me and my mother hates me. All his life he has hated me. She does it, my brothers… and so do you. My own wife hates me. Everyone… everyone who knows me does it”

You were silent for a moment.

There were mixed feelings inside you, because you couldn't forget the mistreatment that the man had given you during those months, nor the way he used you for his pleasure. He was right when he said you hated him. However, there was a compassionate part of you, deep down, that felt sorry for the man's state.

“And sometimes I just want to be dead. I just wish all the shit would go away and drowning in alcohol and dying would take away Alicent's problem and allow her to focus her attention on something better”

His gaze lifted and he looked at you with crystallized eyes.

“Maybe you should poison me one day. So your suffering would also end”

“Your highness, I cannot do that”

“But would you like it? Do you hate me enough to wish me dead?”

“Of course not,” you said quickly.

"Liar. You lie like everyone else. You want me dead”

You knew that saying something negative at that moment, in the state he was in, could result in him making some incoherence that you would be blamed for the next morning. So it was best to act cautiously.

“I don't think anyone wants that”

“My mother does. My father, Rhaenyra does it, and so does her stupid new husband…”

“Your grace…” you interrupted him harshly. Listening to him sink into his self-indulgence was too much to bear “You better go to sleep, don't you think? Now you're not thinking clearly, you'll feel better in the morning."

But Aegon seemed to be lost in his own thoughts, oblivious to anything you had to say to him.

“I guess I just wish someone wouldn't completely detest my existence, you know?”

Aegon had done terrible things to you, of course, but seeing him at that moment made you wonder if all of this was the product of poor parenting and psychological abuse that had been perpetuated for twenty long years. You couldn't say your father loved you, not after what he had done, but at least he hadn't constantly hurt you as the man in front of you had. You knew better than anyone that hate had to be healed with empathy and for a brief moment you felt soft for him.

Once Aegon was a small child, without sins, without accumulated hatred, without evil... and apparently that frightened child hadn’t been completely buried, because it was him who cried inconsolably and saw death as a viable alternative to end that suffering. However, there is no redemption without guilt, right? You don't get to heaven without first repenting.

You stayed silent for a long time, listening to him sob, and when you gathered the courage you spoke:

“Prince, can I be honest with you?”

You had spoken in a low and benevolent voice, while you slid from your chair until you were kneeling in front of him. The boy didn't even want to take advantage of that position for a sexual act, he was simply too tired and drained to think. You placed your hands on his knees and seeing that he nodded, you continued:

“You say you wish someone wouldn't hate you, but have you ever made an effort to do so? Or have you even wondered why people feel that way about you?”

“It's something natural for them”

“I didn't feel it,” you said, honestly. You hated the idea of getting married out of obligation, but if he had been different from the beginning maybe your feelings for him would be too “And you made me feel it. With your contempt, your humiliations, your punishments…”

“If everyone thinks you're a monster, what's the point of contradicting them?”

“And then you prefer to agree with them?”

You were probably taking too many liberties with the prince, but you would never have a chance to talk to him like that again. He was vulnerable and therefore less defensive than normal.

“Every person is responsible for their actions,” you continued. “You can't change how the queen or king feels about you, but you can choose to offer something better to others. If it’s your desire that people not hate you, that won’t happen overnight just because you tell it to. It takes time, effort and above all it requires kindness. If you live regretting the concept that people have of you, without doing anything to change it, then you will live a lifetime of dissatisfaction. If you seriously want someone to feel happy about your existence then pursue that goal, don’t expect it to be granted to you as a divine work.”

A deeper cry began to well up from the man and you almost thought he would lean down for your hug. Still, he didn't.

“I don't know how to be someone else. I have always been this”

“Not always, that's for sure. Water that stagnates rots and becomes a swamp. The one that runs, on the other hand, becomes a river and flows into the ocean.”

You raised the handkerchief you always carried and, in an act of kindness that was also intended to be an offering of peace, you gently wiped the tears and dried blood from his face. Aegon squirmed as he had never experienced that kind of care.

“You just have to ask yourself: what do you choose to be?”

For an endless moment he watched you. His judgment was clouded by drunkenness, but he wondered if he wasn't hallucinating and you were simply the voice of his conscience telling him something he had never wanted to accept.

It was easier to blame others for his mistakes, to justify himself by saying that everything about him was his mother's fault and that if he behaved the way he did it was only a defense mechanism. Aegon had never thought about how his treatment of women was a direct consequence of Alicent's upbringing: if his own mother had hurt him, why wouldn't other women do the same to him? And since he was convinced that they were all going to do it, he preferred to turn them into objects that he could use for his benefit.

He was so drunk and so exhausted from all the crying he had shed that he simply pushed your hand away from his face and stood up from the chair, without saying a word. You, now standing, saw him begin to undress and the first thing you thought was that he would seek to heal his sorrows by having sex with you. However, he only got rid of the essentials and then lay on his stomach on the bed. Without any choice, you took off your clothes for the day, put on a nightgown and also lay down on the mattress to sleep.

You were sure that the next day Aegon wouldn’t remember anything and you weighed the possibility of the whole story repeating itself, in an endless and painful loop for the two of you. And if you were right, it would be a shame if you had to live like this for the rest of your days.

FOURTH ACT: REDEMPTION

“Do you know where Meryna is?” you asked one of the maids who had come in to change your bedding.

“No, your grace”

“I'm starting to get hungry and she still hasn't brought my breakfast,” you exclaimed sadly.

You had woken up a while ago and had gotten dressed to go for a walk after eating, to see if this would cheer you up a little. It had been a few days since Aegon had opened up in the privacy of your room and after that you had barely seen him, much less spoken to him. You believed that everything was due to a matter of pride or even shame for what you had witnessed and you simply didn’t give it importance, because you knew that eventually he would approach you again. You just had to wait for him to want to do it.

Almost as if by summons, the black-haired girl appeared through the door, looking agitated and embarrassed by the delay. Furthermore, she came empty-handed.

"Princess…"

“Didn't you bring breakfast?” you asked, still sounding cordial but slightly surprised.

“I'm very sorry, it's just that Prince Aegon asked me to bring the food to the royal dining room. He is waiting for you there, he told me to come and get you.”

He hadn’t mentioned requiring your presence for any breakfast and, according to you, there were no guests in the palace to accompany. The two women noticed your dismay and Meryna stood waiting for a response.

“Did he tell you why?”

“No, your grace”

"Good. Then tell him I'll be there in a moment."

You only took a few minutes to change your dress, one more suitable for being in the presence of the prince and in case there was a guest you didn't know about. There were no guards at your door so you were able to walk to the dining room by yourself and were surprised to see that only your husband was at the table. He had an expression that you interpreted as a mix of impatience and nerves.

“Oh, you finally arrived. Sit down. You, bring the princess something to drink,” he ordered a maid. He used to call you that in the presence of guests, but it was rare for him to have that courtesy when alone.

“Are we waiting for someone?”

"No. I just thought you might want to have breakfast together.”

You were already sitting next to him, and for a second you watched him with a frown. Had he hit his head somewhere or why was he acting so strange?

“Do you prefer juice or wine, your highness?

"Juice"

“And bring her some strawberries,” Aegon exclaimed.

There was something about the situation that scared you, because you imagined that he wouldn't be treating you so kindly without wanting something in return. But you were already his wife and he did whatever he wanted with you, what more could he want from you?

You looked him up and down, as if searching for some sign, but he looked completely normal. He was wearing one of those full black robes he was used to, with a golden chain with emeralds decorating the hem of his neck and a belt accentuating his figure. The dark circles in his eyes were pronounced, as always, but the look was not that of someone angry; you would even say that he looked somewhat passive, even sleepy.

While you were thinking about all that, you remembered the last conversation you had had with him. You feared that madness had finally exploded in your husband and the food you were about to eat was poisoned, as he had suggested at the time. Perhaps out of courtesy he was waiting for you to take the first bite and, trying to control the trembling in your hands, you took a portion of the cold cuts on your plate to put it in your mouth. Luckily the food didn't taste different and after seeing that the man ate it with the utmost calmness, you assumed that it didn't contain any poison either.

There was freshly baked bread, jam, some cheeses, the aforementioned cold cuts, a variety of fruits, scrambled eggs with fresh herbs and chives, as well as some stuffed buns for dessert. It was a mini banquet and as you ate it you couldn't help but wonder why this show of kindness was due.

Aegon didn't seem to have any intention of talking and you didn't try to force him, not wanting to either. The atmosphere was one of peace and tranquility, one you had not experienced since your wedding day until now, and it was a very different but strangely pleasant feeling.

It was just a couple sharing breakfast time, but for two people who come from such a broken home it felt like a totally new experience.

You continued in silence until most of the things served were finished, leaving only what wasn’t to your palate's liking or that your body was simply no longer able to ingest.

“Do you need anything else, your majesty?”

“Clear this table, we won't eat anymore,” he said to the maid, nonchalantly pointing to the leftovers you had left. Then he looked at you “Satisfied?”

"I am. Everything was delicious”

“I want us to do the same tomorrow. I will send a maid for you, so get ready soon,” he said decisively.

Then he got up from his chair, stretched a little, and left the room without saying anything else to you.

You didn't see your husband the rest of the day, but the next morning he kept his promise without fail. Although the breakfast menu was different the routine was the same and again it made you wonder what the reason for it was.

The next day he also requested your presence for breakfast and you concluded that he intended to make it a habit. For the rest of the morning you were supposed to dedicate yourself to your activities, but after a week of following that routine Aegon informed you that he had other plans for you.

“I want you to come with me for a walk.”

"To the exterior?"

"Yeah. I have training with Ser Criston but I don't wish to attend, so you will be my excuse. I'll tell him that the princess wanted to go for a walk and that I couldn't let her go alone."

He was telling you that lie almost like a childish prank and you would swear he was about to smile.

“Huh, okay. If you want it, we will”

You were still confused by his actions, because in all the time you had been there it was the first time he treated you decently. You didn't know if he was still drinking in large quantities, but at least when he went to sleep he no longer reeked of liquor in the same way. And all that week he hadn't forced you to have sex with him.

What had motivated the prince to change his way of behaving towards you?

"Do you want to go to the beach? I will order a couple of horses to be saddled for us” he exclaimed when you had already left the dining room.

You couldn't refuse to go to the bay, because in your entire life you had never seen the ocean and your curiosity was greater than any other feeling. Besides, you loved horses, and being with them might even make you feel better.

Aegon did as he told you and soon enough you were in the stable. He had ordered a beautiful white mare for you, with a silver mane the color of your husband's hair and a formidable build.

You approached to pet the animal, carefully, and tensed completely when you felt another body behind yours. Until that moment you hadn't realized how warm your husband was.

“She's pretty, right?”

His voice sounded at your ear level, as he had also reached out to touch Frostfire’s hair.

"She is"

“I guess you know how to ride,” he muttered under his breath and you let out an offended sigh.

“Of course I do. Highgarden is the heart of the chivalry of the seven kingdoms”

After saying that you turned your head just a little and met his gaze, indigo eyes with hints of lilac looking at you carefully. You could feel his breath against yours and at that closeness your cheeks had already turned red involuntarily.

He separated from you and then went to choose his horse, a black thoroughbred with beautiful braids, to get on it and ask the guards to open the door for you. You almost managed to sneak away, but Ser Criston stopped the two of you just before you could do so, claiming that he had a scheduled practice with the prince.

“I'm taking my wife to Blackwater, she hasn't had a chance to visit since her arrival.”

“But your grace, your father…”

“We will continue with training later, Ser Criston,” he said firmly.

“Will you go to Blackwater without an escort?”

“I will”

"That's impossible"

“Don't worry, I don't want to be accompanied. Just rest for now.”

“But you are the prince.”

"Exactly. I am the prince and I want my orders to be respected."

The boy was a smug son of a bitch when he put his mind to it, just like now. The man had no choice but to obey the words and then the two of you were able to leave. You could get there on foot, but Aegon had felt like riding and had wanted an alternative to quickly escape if something went wrong.

You walked along a path that still belonged to the Red Keep grounds, so there was no great danger of being attacked along the way, and you soon reached the bay. It was even more beautiful up close and as soon as you got off the mare you forgot any courtesy towards your husband, as you rushed towards the shore to watch the waves crash. Your pumps and dress were soaked when the water reached your calves, but it didn't bother you too much because you were happy for the reason.

“Have you never been to the ocean?”

“I'm afraid not, your grace. There was never any business that required me to be on the coast of The Reach and I have always lived surrounded by hills and forests. I had seen some rivers, but…”

Before you could continue your story you staggered because of a wave and to avoid falling you tried to hold on to whatever was within reach, which turned out to be the man next to you. He supported you from the elbows with his strong arms.

“Oh, I'm so sorry.”

“It’s okay,” he laughed. For the first time in your presence, he had laughed “But we should get away from the shore. I wouldn't want to take you back to the castle all soaked”

You heeded the boy's advice and, still leaning on him, walked towards the sand. The sky was slightly cloudy, so the weather was perfect for walking around without any discomfort.

“I've never visited Highgarden, is it as impressive as rumored?” he asked, as he began to walk in the opposite direction of the Red Keep.

Although you never believed that the prince would be interested in such things, you began to talk to him about your hometown with particular emotion. You told him about his surroundings, about the castle and you also told in greater detail the gardens that once belonged to you and were full of golden roses, as was the emblem of your house.

You were surprised by how attentive the boy was to everything you had to say to him and for the first time since your arrival, you didn't feel like a stranger in your own skin. Talking about your home was like remembering a part of yourself, as if you were showing him your insides through stories of the beautiful hills where you had ridden so many times.

“Everything sounds wonderful,” he concluded. The sea breeze had already ruffled both of your hair and he took advantage of this to brush a strand out of your face “Someday I should go visit it”

“Yes, maybe you would like that” you exclaimed smiling. You had come too far and it was time to walk back, towards where you had left Frostfire and Moonshadow tied up “Your grace, may I ask you a question?”

"Yeah"

You opened your mouth to ask him why he was doing all that and why he had suddenly started showing so much interest in you. You wanted to know the reason for his unexpected kindness and his abstinence from activities that weren’t very pleasant for you. But before you could speak, you took a moment to observe him. His skin looked paler in the light outside and his silver hair waved in the wind, however, what caught your attention the most was the serene expression on his face.

Although you couldn't say that you knew Aegon, the time you had lived together had shown you that his personality was extremely challenging. If you pointed out that he was being nicer to you and questioned him about it, he would most likely revert to his old behavior towards you simply on a whim. So no, you couldn't ask him about anything or you'd ruin the minuscule part of a good relationship you had managed to build.

“I was thinking... Do you think we can one day bring golden roses to the royal gardens? Green and gold are part of your emblem too and that would beautify the place. I could take care of them, if you want.”

“That's a good idea,” he exclaimed happily. You had already turned around to return and you calculated that it must be after noon “I will order them to be brought in as soon as possible, in the hope that the hot weather at King's landing will not ruin them”

“I hope not,” you said, although a little less enthusiastic than before.

You had been lost in thought after the appearance of that question that you did not verbalize and suddenly Aegon feared that he had made some mistake. You walked a few meters in silence, until this state was unbearable for his majesty and he stopped you by holding your shoulders. You were about to ask what had happened when he pulled you against his lips, stealing your breath. It was still a rough kiss, but this time less desperate than before. His hands went down to your waist and held you to his body until there wasn’t even a centimeter of distance left, with your belly touching the heat of his stomach.

“Still no signs that you are pregnant?”

You thought that, perhaps, your answer was in that question and that the only thing the man wanted was to convince you to hurry up the matter of producing an heir.

“I'm sorry to say no. It's very unfortunate."

“We'll have to keep trying,” he said, shrugging his shoulders as if he wanted to downplay the matter “Mother insists on it.”

“Has your mother always been like this to you?”

"What are you talking about?"

“It's just… she seems to have everything under control all the time.”

You couldn't be further from the truth and rather than describing it that way Aegon would have said that she was controlling. She wanted to have things under control, but she couldn't and as an example was the eldest prince himself, whom she had never been able to persuade to behave the way he did.

“Well, she is the queen. I guess that's how she must be” he exclaimed without much encouragement. He was still holding you by the waist and was surprised by how intimate that position was. “But we better get back, they must be wondering where we are”

“Maybe they even think I ran away, taking advantage of the fact that you weren't there to watch me,” you joked.

"Would you do it?"

"Do what?"

“Run away”

You looked at the man, incredulous, because it was stupid to think that if you were planning to run away you would just tell him like that. That was the characteristic of it, that it was surprising and hidden.

“Why would I do, your grace?”

“Maybe because I'm a bad husband,” he said quietly. You weren't understanding the game Aegon was playing and it was driving you crazy.

“I wouldn't dare do it. I have nowhere to go and I know I couldn't even get through the doors without your majesty noticing,” you replied.

The prince didn’t want pragmatic reasons like that, but rather his question was more aimed at whether it was your will to abandon him.

Against all odds a couple of raindrops began to fall and very soon a storm had already brewed over your head. It was useless to run, but you did it anyway and Aegon held your hand to prevent either of you from falling due to a trip. Somewhere along the way you lost one of your pumps and at this you began to laugh and he, infected by your joy, did the same. It amused you greatly to think of the face the queen would make when she saw you enter the castle, with her eldest son soaked from head to toe and your clothing incomplete. But you also laughed from the joy of feeling so alive in that moment. You felt like a girl playing in the rain and despite the coldness of the falling water, you felt a certain warmth traveling from the tips of your fingers to your chest.

Although he was sure that you were an excellent rider, your husband insisted on taking you on his own horse to avoid any accidents and you agreed without complaint. His body sheltered you all the way to the Red Keep and once there, under the roof, he helped you down from the chair with extreme care. You didn't think he was that strong until you felt him grab your waist and place you on the floor effortlessly.

“Ask the maids to prepare a bath for you, or you will catch a cold,” he said, putting on your back a cloak he had found hanging on one of the walls.

There was the hint of a smile on his face and seeing him behave like this towards you made you feel weird. You almost felt like he was trying to be affectionate with you, even though he wasn't quite succeeding.

“You should do the same,” you exclaimed softly.

Motivated by the kind moment you had shared, you reached out to brush away the wet hair that had stuck to his face and he shivered at your touch. It was the first time you touched him that way, out of conviction and with care.

“Your majesty, Lord Hand is looking for you. He says he needs to talk to you urgently."

“My grandfather,” he sighed at you, as if wanting to apologize for the words the guard behind you had just said.

He gave the man Moonshadow's reins and then explained that someone had to go get the horse you had left in the bay, so you assumed your presence there was no longer necessary. You were about to leave when he stopped you, grabbing your arm somewhat roughly and looking at you with a feeling that you couldn't decipher.

“I'll go to your room tonight,” he informed.

You felt a little disappointed by the reality of having to share a bed with him, after so long without having done so, but you were grateful that he was at least warning you.

You nodded your goodbyes and he did the same, forming an unspoken agreement. You thought maybe that was why he had been polite to you, so he could get back under your bed sheets. But there was no point in doing it, he wasn't courting you to win your hand, but you were already his wife and he had made it very clear that he could do with you whatever he wanted.

Still a little confused, you were escorted to your bedroom, where you hoped that a tub with hot water and essences would be enough to appease all those doubts that were growing in you.

FIFTH ACT: LOVE

At some point Aegon would get tired of all this, you were sure. But while that moment arrived, you were thoroughly enjoying all kinds of attention you received from your husband. He kept his promise to bring golden roses for the gardens and although the queen wasn’t very happy, in the end they adorned some of the busiest sections of the place. You took that as an act of good faith, so you thought that maybe the thought of repaying him for some of the decency he was showing you wouldn't kill you.

There wasn’t a single breakfast that you skipped, except when the prince was required for political matters or had to travel. You were too proud to admit that you had begun to genuinely enjoy his company, as you still had some distrust due to how temperamental the man was. It wasn't all sunshine and flowers, as the young man still had some outbursts that made you fear him and reminded you that this was who you were really talking to.

His drinking habits hadn’t changed much, since although he was able to handle it during the first week after that period, it was inevitable that he would go back to his old ways and drink an entire jug of wine in a couple of minutes. With sex it was the same, because he continued to fuck you without signs of care and regularly when he was lost in drink. It amused you to think that perhaps that was the reason why you still didn't carry a child in your womb; that he was too drunk when you tried to be of any use.

However, as your relationship strengthened you could notice slight (you almost swore they were imaginary) changes when having sex. He was no longer as rough towards your body as before and tried to thrust into you a little slower, as if he wanted to lengthen the moment and not just unload into you and sleep like a baby after that. Maybe it was just that the drink made him lethargic, but he had even started seeking your lips in the middle of the act or kissing everything within reach of the skin on your neck. You didn't intend to spend much time analyzing his behavior because for you it already represented a victory that he had stopped hurting you after every time you had sex and, honestly, you didn't want to inquire about it. Once again you thought it was more prudent not to question the prince and simply let him continue behaving that way.

Until one night, things looked different for you.

When you heard your husband open the door, quite late at night, and saw him approach your bed, you knew that the same dynamic of nighttime visits would take place. Aegon, already hard as a rock, would kiss you a few times, undress, order you to undress, and then position on top of you to satisfy himself. Needless to say, under the confidence that being in the dark gave you and your husband's lack of interest, you looked away or concentrated on something else while your martyrdom was carried out. He would finish, lie naked next to you, and then sleep soundly with no memory the next morning of what had happened.

Aegon called your name, just to check that you were awake or otherwise wake you up, and you were surprised to hear that his voice sounded quite normal. He wasn't slurring his words like usual.

"Your grace?" you called back, propping yourself up on your elbows so you could look at him.

He did what was expected and as soon as he was far enough away, he started kissing you. You must have known something was wrong from that first moment, when he grabbed your cheek with his wide hand and offered you the most passionate kiss you had ever had. It is reiterated that Aegon was always somewhat careless in intimacy, but this first contact hadn’t felt as impatient as others, but rather was something more careful and planned.

Only one other man had kissed you like that in your life and although the feeling brewing in your chest must have been pleasant, the truth was that it wasn't. You had endured too much abuse from the white-haired man so your body didn't know how to react otherwise. That's why when he continued kissing you for longer than usual and then laid you down meekly, you couldn't do anything but tense uncomfortably.

You were only in your nightgown so there wasn't much difficulty in sliding the straps to the side, almost exposing your tits. Suddenly Aegon lowered his kisses to your neck, where his stubble scratched your skin. Knowing that he would be busy in that area, you turned your head away to focus your gaze on a tapestry on the wall. However, you got a surprise when you felt the prince move away from you and then a bigger one when he took your face between his fingers, placing his index finger and thumb on each of your cheeks to force you to look at him. At first you thought there was anger in his eyes, but after looking at them for a second more you concluded that the feeling was more like that of someone insulted. And why? you asked yourself. What had you done that had offended the prince?

“Why are you looking away?”

His question had a certain aggressive tone, but, at the same time, he sounded hurt. With that you confirmed that he wasn’t drunk or that, if he was, he had drunk just enough to make him feel slightly dizzy. You couldn't tell the way your eyes looked at him, but Aegon interpreted your expression as one of disdain.

Unbeknownst to you, he had his own whirlwind of feelings inside him, one that was driving him crazy and causing him to look you up and down while still holding you. He’d never been like this on another night, so you were at the mercy of knowing how good or bad that would turn out.

Suddenly he seemed upset, you would even say disgusted, and surprisingly stood up from his position. The cold air hit you where he had been before and you sat on the bed to watch him, completely confused by the way he was behaving.

"What's going on…?"

“You don't want this,” he spoke firmly. It was obvious that you didn't want to and you wondered how he had barely realized it. “Not like that… I… no. Not this way"

His babbling confused you even more and when you saw him walk away with exaggerated steps until he left through the door, you couldn't help but feel totally amazed.

What was the reason for what your husband had just done?

The feeling of being abandoned was more hopeless than having him fuck you would have been, and for a moment you even felt ashamed. Maybe he didn't like you anymore or he would just go and cure his frustration in the bed of a woman you didn't know.

He had watched you very strangely and the whole scene wasn't like him. You even pinched yourself just to check that it wasn't some strange dream, getting a moan of pain in response to your question. You thought that perhaps you were acting impulsively, but barely a minute later you put on a green robe over your nightgown and headed towards the door, still not knowing exactly what you were going to do.

“Where are you going, your grace?” the guard on duty asked, putting his voluptuous body in your way.

“Prince Aegon, do you know where he went?”

“In that direction, your majesty. But I'm afraid I must recommend that you return to your room, it is dangerous to walk around the palace at this time."

“But I wish to see my husband,” you said firmly.

The man let out a sigh and then slid to the side of the hallway, leaving you a clear path. Even so, when you started walking you felt his footsteps following you because he probably wanted to make sure that something didn't happen to you. You walked for a while, but you knew it was useless when all you found were locked doors that you couldn't knock on and that you couldn't open either. If Aegon was in any of those rooms, you wouldn't know it. Defeated, you returned to your room and, as expected, found it empty again.

The next morning there wasn’t a single word about that event, but it was present in your mind throughout the day. You had already lived with him enough to realize that something was bothering him, however, upon noticing that he was less talkative during your usual breakfast, you decided to give him time.

You were about to leave the table when he stopped you, asking you to take your seat again and looking at you seriously.

“I have to travel for a couple of weeks,” he informed you. You were surprised to hear that he almost sounded sad “The king is required on some business and since my father can no longer travel, I will have to do it.”

“I hope the entire journey is favorable and the visit profitable, your grace,” you exclaimed cordially. However, your husband didn’t seem pleased with it.

One of his hands slid to hold yours, with a strength that surprised you. There was urgency in his grip, like he needed to hold on to something.

“Is that all you have to say?”

A couple of wrinkles appeared on your brow, as you clearly weren't understanding what he expected of you. Accompanying him would be reckless and you didn't know if he wanted you to keep him there at King's landing.

During those last months something had changed in the man's face, because those eyes surrounded by purple marks no longer saw you with the same aversion as the first time. And it disheartened Aegon that his attempts to please you were yielding no apparent fruit. He was giving you time, effort, and being kind to you like you had said was necessary, but he still couldn't help but feel that you still considered him a stranger.

He had been patient because he thought that, as time went by, you would begin to seek him out or not shy away from his touch. Aegon cared a lot about the physical, so every time he sneaked into your room he did so with the hope that you would welcome him with open arms and give yourself to him willingly. Countless nights he waited in his own room for you to show up to keep him warm and love him throughout the night. But it never happened and a part of him couldn't blame you either.

However, he was already tired of it. He wanted to make it clear to you that he not only wanted to give, but also receive. But forcing you to do anything would ruin everything; you had to want it.

“Have I said something that offended you, prince?”

“I just thought you would say you were going to miss me”

A laugh echoed in your throat at those words and for a second Aegon felt hurt, like you were mocking you. He was going to let go of your hand and walk away, insulted, but you squeezed his hand harder as a sign that you didn't want him to do that.

“I'm sorry, I didn't mean to laugh at you. I just didn't think that if I harbored feelings of that kind they would be of interest to your majesty."

“Do you miss me when you don't see me?” he asked now, allowing himself to be vulnerable in front of you “Or are you glad to have me away?”

You didn't know what those direct questions were about, because you didn't expect that a man like him would be plagued by uncertainty about knowing the answers.

“Not at all. I will always be willing to be with you whenever you want.”

“And you want to be with me?” he insisted.

“I think that what I want is not important”

“But I'm trying to make it so. I thought I was making it clear enough,”

He was angry, but not for the reasons you might think. It frustrated him that he was trying hard to improve and that your eyes continued to see him like that first time. Too many people were already observing him like that and he thought that, perhaps, since you were the most recent to do it, you could also be the first in whom he could manage to modify it.

You, however, were still too confused by his signs. Sometimes his attitude didn’t coincide with the intentions he had, since antipathy was often the only emotion with which he allowed himself to express and feel, accustomed to what he received during all his years of life.

All those months of effort were a direct product of the talk you had had with him, of that moment of weakness in which, instead of ignoring him like everyone else did, you had stayed with him. Aegon was aware that the treatment towards you was sometimes inhumane and he couldn’t explain how despite this you had wiped away his tears with such care, expressing nothing more than an act of integrity. Sometimes he even just imposed things on you to see if he could push you to the limit and he was surprised to see that you endured everything with honor and decency. You were good, something he could never be.

He didn't want to hear anything more and then let go of your hand, feeling rejected again.

"Majesty…"

"It's getting late. I have to go feed Sunfyre so he can endure the trip.”

“Will you travel by dragon?”

“How else would a Targaryen do it?” expressed obviously.

You were silent for a moment and then he stood up, ready to fulfill his obligations. In the afternoon he had already left, without emotional goodbyes or anything like that.

You had those weeks alone to reflect on everything that had been happening. You firmly believed that a cruel and evil person would always be that way, even if they hid it, because humans can’t change from one day to the next. Still, you had to allow Aegon the courtesy of admitting that he wasn't being a complete jerk lately.

You tried to think of any unpleasant moments with him during that week and although you found a couple, you realized that they had all been because of minor arguments or simply that one of the two of you had woken up in a bad mood. The hatred for the boy had been so ingrained in you that now it was difficult to decipher how much of it was due to things that were really happening and how much of it was a resentment carried from the past, at the beginning of that harmful relationship that existed between you.

He was no longer a mean man to you, he just sometimes had those logical slips for anyone who has never been taught to love. He didn't know how to care for you, how to talk to you, or even how to touch you properly. He had always existed alone and could still be seen reflected in his incessant desire for you to be the one to look for him, in his longing to know that you would miss him during his absence and in wanting you to look forward to his return. He wanted you to pay attention to him. He needed it.

One fine afternoon the vision of Sunfyre finally appeared in the bright blue of the sky, with you watching from the huge window of your room. He looked majestic, flying deftly and confidently with the rider above him grinning from ear to ear. Aegon had once confessed to you that he loved to fly on his dragon and he spoke about it with a devotion that completely touched you.

You thought about going to look for him, grateful that he had returned, but you were afraid that your presence would bother him or, in that case, that there would be murmurs about you. You didn't want to seem like a desperate wife so you thought it would be best to look for him at dinner time and in case he wanted to see you before, you stayed in your room all afternoon.

Once night fell, you put on one of your prettiest dresses and went to the royal dining room hoping to find him there, but it was in vain. Luckily one of the cooks had seen him and he told you that he was in his room, since he had ordered that something to eat and drink be brought there.

Determined, you made your way there and took a moment before entering. You hoped that the time away from King's landing had not hardened your lover's character, because it would be a shame to waste what you had built for some time and have to start over, or not do it at all, which would be even worse. Since there were no guards at the door, you were able to push the wood without any hindrance and then you saw it.

Aegon was sitting near the fireplace, his back to the entrance and leaning against a table that had a jug that you assumed was full (or not so full anymore) of wine. When he heard your footsteps he turned slightly and when he saw you, he kept a serene expression on his face.

“Hey,” he exclaimed quietly.

“The maids informed me that you were here” you explained and he nodded.

You noticed that he no longer wore his black doublet with the Targaryen emblem, he only kept the breeches of the same color and a mint-colored linen shirt that left part of his chest exposed. His white hair had some natural curls that fell delicately over her shoulders.

“Yeah. I don't feel like seeing my parents.”

“I understand” you assumed that if he hadn't wanted to see you he wouldn't have hesitated to tell you, so you approached him. Undecided whether you should greet him with a kiss or just stay to the side, you placed your hands on his shoulders and leaned a little to look at him “How was the trip?”

“It was good,” he responded with reluctance. “But my body feels completely crushed”

“Hm. It shows” you whispered, amused. The tension in his body was palpable and that's why you began to massage him, pressing hard just where he needed it. Aegon, feeling your skilled hands doing this, let out a satisfied grunt and leaned his head back with his eyes closed.

Doing that wasn’t something you had planned when you went there, it had only happened out of the heat of the moment and the reality that your husband's body was taking its toll on him for the hours he had spent riding his dragon.

With each passing second Aegon's burden felt lighter and lighter, wondering where you had learned those movements and how your hands were strong enough to exert the right pressure.

"Feel better?" you asked kindly and he nodded immediately, eyes still closed.

Suddenly one of your hands slid lower, towards his chest, to caress him. This time your fingers were light as feathers, sending an electrical current up and down the man's spine under your touch. No whore had ever touched him like that, with that force and at the same time so delicately.

But it was clear that you were not a whore. You were his wife.

“Come here,” he said firmly, reaching out to wrap his hand around your wrist and pulling you directly into his lap.

It was extremely painful to admit that he had missed you. He was physically frustrated because he hadn't dared to take any other woman in your absence. It had been a long time since he had frequented pleasure houses, since his appetite was awakened only by being with you.

What the hell had you done to him?

“The cook told me that you ordered some food, but I only see wine around here. Have you already eaten anything?”

“Mhmm,” he said absently. Your legs dangled to the side and one of his hands came up to your face, brushing your loose hair away from it. The other one surrounded you until it planted itself firmly on your belly. “Still no signs of anything?”

“Honestly, I don't know. The maesters can’t say with certainty… I am sorry”

“What if you are sterile?” the mere possibility of it made you nervous and you wondered what your fate would be if that was the case. Aegon didn't look so worried “What a disappointment for Alicent.”

You didn't know how to take that, because on the one hand it could be that your husband was amused by the irony of the matter and on the other hand it was that he would never have wanted to have children with you. For a moment you thought that the tranquility of the environment had been fragmented by this, but it turned out that the man couldn't care less. He was completely focused on your lips, almost as if hypnotized.

“I trust that is not the case, your grace. Just… it was a streak of bad luck.”

“I guess so,” he murmured nonchalantly. He was still watching your mouth when you spoke “But now I don’t care much about that.”

He carefully grabbed you by the back of your neck and brought you closer to shorten the distance, giving you an eager kiss that took your breath away. The hand that was on your waist pulled you closer to his body, leaving practically no separation between you and him. You could feel the desperation on his lips and in his touch, like he was eager to make you his. And at the same time, he was kissing you like he had never done before: it was sweet, yearning, passionate. You felt like he really wanted you.

He separated from you so you could breathe and, as best he could, he maneuvered to lift your body until he placed you on the table, where it was easier for him to place himself in the space between your legs. You instinctively placed your hands around his neck and wrapped one of your legs around his body.

“I longed for you. These weeks” you finally confessed. You heard him, and felt him, breathe more erratically at this because your words had fallen on him with the force of an axe.

From there, Aegon acted solely driven by the feeling of knowing that you had wanted to see him as much as he had wanted to see you.

His entire body leaned over you to kiss you, with the same urgency as at the beginning. While he did that he grabbed you by the lower back, pulling you until your body collided with his crotch which, if it wasn't already hard, wouldn't take long.

His kisses were clumsy due to urgency and after a while he moved away from your mouth to descend to your neck. Sometimes he left a kiss or two, at most, but this time he seemed to want to take his time. His tongue ran all over your skin, freshly washed, and he spread caresses without restraint. Every place the dragon's lips touched lit up with fire and his hips grinding against you weren't doing much for the blush on your cheeks. Inevitably you began to sigh from so many stimuli, right at the level of his ear, which only motivated him to continue.

As best he could he pulled the laces on the back of your dress and it didn't take long to get rid of the restraints. He slid one of your sleeves over your shoulder to begin kissing that section, the same way he had done with your neck. An indiscreet moan escaped you as your husband bit into your soft flesh and you could feel him smile against your skin.

“You're mine, right?” he sighed brokenly. You had tilted your head back to give him more space and he took the opportunity to lower the entire torso of your dress. “Only mine…”

With the same devotion he took care of your breasts and you couldn't do anything but continue alternating between sighs and some muffled moans. You could feel how he longed for you, eager to be able to kiss every inch of your skin even if it took him the entire night. Suddenly your body had become a temple, an object worthy of worship. The prince continued to distribute kisses that each time descended towards your belly, until with one hand he violently threw everything that was on the table and you ended up lying completely on it. Then he walked away.

You were about to ask what had happened when he took care of taking off your ballerina flats and throwing them somewhere far away in the room, only to stretch your leg up to the height of his torso to start kissing it. No one, not even him, had ever done that to you, so it was natural for you to be dismayed. His kisses moved quickly up your thigh and once he did that, he dropped to his knees in front of you. The skirt of your dress blocked your view and when you tried to get up something made you scream. Aegon had bitten into the tender flesh of your thighs, quite close to your crotch and with more force than he had hit your shoulder. You could only imagine his face when he carefully licked the mark he had surely left on you, once again making your chest exhale a moan.

What he did next and the sensation it caused, you could never have even imagined. That mouth, which most of the time was used for ironic puns and sloppy kisses, was now taking expert care of all of your pussy. Aegon was devouring you completely, touching just where it was necessary to make you squirm on the table. He wasn't careful at all; it was a touch hungry and extremely dirty.

You wanted to hold on as much as you could to keep yourself attached to reality, but it was difficult with your husband eating you like that. One of his arms wrapped around your leg and placed it over his shoulder, probably to give him better access. You had never moaned like that in his presence and it only made him harder and harder beneath the tight fabric of his breeches.

The pleasure was barely getting to your head when he stopped and a dissatisfied grunt escaped you shamelessly. Aegon laughed unabashedly at this, pleased at the control he had gained over you, and then went up again to kiss you hungrily. You couldn't do anything but welcome his salty lips and you moaned against him as he leaned against your body and you could feel his crotch, not knowing if it was your own wetness or his that was present.

He held you from behind and, without stopping kissing you, carried you until he placed you on the bed. You considered it somewhat unfair that your husband already had you trembling beneath him and still hadn't taken off a single piece of clothing, but your complaints were silenced when he hurriedly pulled his shirt over his head and took off his breeches in record time. In the same way, he pulled your dress towards your legs so that a second later it ended up on the floor, along with everything else.

He knelt down on the mattress and spread your legs roughly, lining himself up with your entrance. He began to rub the tip of his member up and down your already wet center and that did nothing but drive you crazy again.

When a delicate, pleading, «please» escaped your swollen lips, Aegon knew it was more stimulating to have you begging for him than to worry about only satisfying himself.

He played with you for a while longer, smiling from ear to ear at the sight of his delicate, pretty wife vibrating from having him close, until he finally plunged into you. For the first time there was enough wetness in you that the stroke felt satisfying rather than painful and both of you let out a delicious moan.

He set the pace, slow at first, but after a while his movements became more desperate. He wanted to get to the core of you, he wanted to fill you completely so you knew that only he could make you feel that way. When his body began to ache he leaned towards you, resting each of his arms on the side of your head and looking directly at you. You had stopped looking away from him, now you were looking at him with your mouth open with pleasure, your eyes watery and your pupils dilated on your completely flushed cheeks.

“Aegon,” you sobbed pathetically, clouded by everything you were experiencing and proving that it wasn't long before you reached your orgasm.

You had never called him by his name. You always referred to him as «your grace», «prince» or «husband», at best. So hearing his name come out of your lips like that, under those circumstances, was too much for him to bear.

Knowing that he couldn't last much longer, one of his hands moved down to rest his thumb on your clit and once there he began to make erratic circles. You closed your eyes, completely seized by pleasure and a couple more thrusts were enough to make you lose the battle. Hearing your whimpers, combined with the way your walls squeezed him, was enough to make him cum too. With trembling legs you felt the warm liquid filling you and, for the first time, it was comforting.

When Aegon plopped down next to you, you immediately missed his body warmth. Both of you were breathing heavily, trying to catch the breath that the orgasm had taken from you. You could clearly feel your heartbeat bouncing off your bare chest and the stinging sensation coming from your crotch and running through your entire body was something you could get used to. Your hair had stuck to your face from the sweat and not to mention your lips, which you felt were burning from your husband's attention.

Aegon had already had many orgasms in his life so this time he decided to turn his gaze a little to see you enjoying yours. The mere idea that he was responsible for your condition made him completely shake.

“You look beautiful,” he blurted out suddenly. You thought he had heard wrong because of the rush, but from the way he was smiling at you, you highly doubted it. “Just like that”

“Like what?”

“Freshly fucked. Well fucked” he corrected himself.

A laugh bubbled up from within you and you blushed even more, if that was possible, perhaps from the nerves and elation of what had just happened. The man stood up a little from his seat and leaned down to kiss you, although this time he did it with a calm and affection that you never thought you would see in him. It was just that he couldn't deny it anymore; from that moment on he would become an open book for you, where you could see all his feelings, desires and fears.

“I don't know why you're doing this,” you suddenly murmured and Aegon pulled away enough to look at you “And I don't know why you've been acting like this these past few months. But I like it. I think it's a good time for you to know."

“You said I could choose who I am,” he said meekly. One of his hands grabbed your chin and stole another fleeting kiss from you. “I haven't forgotten, every word is present in my head. It's just... sometimes it's hard. And I thought I would have a better chance with you, even with the things I did to you when we got married”

You smiled at him and were happy to know that the change in his behavior was because of the talk you once had with him. If he continued like this, ignoring the demons inside him and trying to be better, then your marriage had a chance to become more than just a condemnation.

Driven by the pleasant feeling growing in your chest you reached out towards him to reward him with a kiss. The man's breath hitched when you pushed him to the side and reversed roles, now you being the one pampering him while he was lying down. There was a playful glint in your husband's eyes as you looked at him.

“Do you know this is the first time you kissed me?” he exhaled softly.

You couldn't believe that was possible and for a few seconds you tried to remember so you could contradict him. But every time you remembered you realized that it was always him who initiated the contact to which you only responded, so, effectively, it was the first kiss you gave him out of conviction.

Maybe it was an omen that something good was coming.

Still happy with how everything had turned out, you snuggled into his side, your head resting on his chest while he hugged you and threw a sheet over your bodies. You planted a hand on his bare skin and began drumming your fingers, alternating with small circles made with the greatest delicacy.

You were silent for a long time, you even thought that your husband had fallen asleep until you heard him speak again:

“It's also the first time I'm doing this.”

“Are you talking about sex, your grace?”

“No, I'm talking about cuddling,” he confessed softly, his hand caressing your back the same way you did with him, “And don't call me your majesty anymore. I am Aegon. Or my prince, at any rate. But my is important”

With the affection worthy of a wife, you raised your head to place a kiss on his cheek and assured him that from now on you would call him that in the privacy of your chambers.

Suddenly, after another moment of silence, Aegon pulled you close to him as if afraid you were going to suddenly evaporate. Intending to calm his fears, you climbed until you were on top of his body, hiding your head in his neck so that the distance became minimal.

There was silence for another couple of minutes.

“Do you think I can ever be forgiven?”

Apparently the atmosphere of the moment had managed to soften the boy's heart.

“We can all be absolved, Aegon.”

"And you?"

"Me what?"

“Do you think you can ever love me?” you were quiet for a second, thinking about your response. Then, he added “Or could you at least try? It would be a nice detail for me. No one has ever done it before.”

Not wanting to ruin the mood with a false word you decided to kiss his neck gently and that was enough of an answer for him. He would have to trust in your goodwill and that he could continue to restrain his impulses to keep this newly discovered gem that was his wife. With some luck you could even be that person he prayed for so much all his life, one with whom he could feel safe.

The slowing of the man's breathing revealed to you that he had already fallen asleep and you discovered that it seemed not so bad to find yourself in that position, sheltered by your lover's arms.

Under that scenario, the idea of eventually loving Prince Aegon Targaryen no longer sounded so far-fetched.

[anxiousnerdwritings]

if viserys married sickly!brother reader to rhaenyra, how do you think everyone would react? alicent’s reaction would make her reaction to aemond’s eye look like a a peaceful talk in comparison

Tw: Mentions of incest, taking advantage of someone, murderous plots

If Viserys were to have married Rhaenyra to Sickly!Brother!Reader before Laenor than that would have been the end of Alicent and Rhaenyra’s friendship. The moment Viserys announced it, Alicent would have been absolutely done with Rhaenyra. She would feel betrayed, similar to how Rhaenyra felt when Viserys announced his betrothal to Alicent. She would never, ever forgive Rhaenyra for taking the Reader from her like that. Alicent would still very much be adamant about being in charge of and the one to care for the Reader and his health. Not to mention, now that Rhaenyra is married to the Reader and would no doubt be firm in wanting to share a bed with the Reader, then that means Alicent’s nightly/rapey visits to the Reader would be put an end to. Alicent would definitely be plotting the death of Rhaenyra much sooner than later. Honestly, Alicent would do her best to bite her tongue and keep her composure so she doesn’t try to strangle the life out of Rhaenyra. She would desperately try to come off as calm and collected, even if the way she congratulates Rhaenyra is obviously forced, but internally she is burning with such an intensity it could put wildfire to shame.

Rhaenyra would be absolutely over the moon now that she gets to marry her Sickly!Uncle!Reader, after much persuading and, dare she say, begging on her part to get her father to give her what she wants, Rhaenyra finally has her beloved uncle. Honestly, at this point in time Daemon could rot for all she cares. No matter how much Rhaenyra did care for Deamon, her even more beloved Uncle!Reader is much more worthwhile in the end to her. He never left her behind, he was always there for her when she needed someone most and even when she didn’t need anyone at all. The Reader was consistent where Daemon wasn’t and that especially is what meant the most to Rhaenyra. Even at his worst, the Reader would still gladly have her company by his side and hear her speak her mind or rant about her day and the idiots at court. Not to mention, if this was after she had done the unthinkable and disgraced her Uncle similar to Alicent than she would already be pregnant and would much rather the Reader know about his child and get to be an actual father to them and the others to come than having to pretend that the child was someone else’s. Things would certainly be different if Rhaenyra had married Laenor first and secretly had her Sickly!Uncle!Reader father all her children and then passing them off as Laenor’s only to marry the Reader after Laenor ‘dies�� and revealing to her uncle about her children really being his.

I feel like Daemon would certainly be surprised and slightly annoyed that Viserys actually allowed Rhaenyra to be wed to their younger brother but not him. But I also feel like if he knew that Rhaenyra pushed for it than he’d be much more suspicious about the whole thing. Was this just to get at him? Or was there something more to this? Either way, Daemon doesn’t like that his younger brother is being used in whatever way he is. He may even become mistrustful of Rhaenyra because of this but he can’t say that he isn’t more relieved that his brother is with her and not the Green Bitch.

Viserys would be far more tolerating of his Sickly!Younger!Brother!Reader marrying his daughter over Daemon. But I don’t doubt that he did use his brother’s health as a way to deter Rhaenyra from marrying him at all but when she kept at it, incessantly insisting that she couldn’t careless whether he was in good health or not, Viserys found it harder to make excuses. Not to mention I could see Lyonel Strong advising Viserys that this would be beneficial to keeping the Realm and Seven Kingdoms together and at peace since he’s called for Rhaenyra being his heir. Even if he had named his Sickly!Brother!Reader as his heir instead this would go about keeping with the Targaryen tradition. I also wouldn’t doubt that Viserys has visited with the Reader and talked to him about Rhaenyra’s incessant want to marry him, only for the Reader to be the one more so who isn’t accepting of it because she’s his brother’s daughter. Even though he’s well aware of their family tradition, it just doesn’t sit well with him which leads to Viserys’ plethora of excuses to keeping Rhaenyra from wedding the Reader.

[somethingblu3]

The Discovery Of Love (Chapter 1) | Quinten Quist

Read on Ao3 here

18+ minors dni.

Masterlist | The Discovery Of Love Masterlist

Fandom: The Discovery Of Heaven, De ontdekking van de hemel

Summary:

When Onno discovers you and Quinten childhood best friends are Soulmates he's over the moon Max not so much. Max is terrified at the thought of his possible son being in a relationship with his best friend's daughter while he's in denial that you and Quinten have been seeing each other for months. You both try and keep it under wraps but you both know it's only a matter of time before someone finds out the truth.

TW: secret Relationship, Virgin Quinten, the birds and the bees Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Healing, Healing Soulmates, Canon Divergence,Alternate Universe,POV Second Person, Forbidden Love possible incest

Pairing: Quinten Quist x Female Reader, Quinten Quist x Afab Reader

Word Count: 2,801 (Finally wrote something over 1K! for once)

Graphic Credit: @keep-it-light

Note:

Lightly edited. To be clear i've aged Quintin up to 19 years old. Max's daughter is AFAB and uses she/her pronouns. Also I hope the formatting is alright tumblr's sucks.

Onno Quist figured that at one point in his life he would have to tell his young and innocent virgin son about sex but today would not be that day. Quinten seemed far more interested in architecture than girls that was until he finally noticed you Max’s daughter. At first Onno was taken aback by his growing attraction but as he observed his son it seemed like a match made in heaven in Onno’s eyes at least. Max seemed totally against the idea when Onno brought it up one winter evening over dinner. As he spoke and dug into his turkey Onno’s eyes were fixated on Quintin and you outside in the snow Quinten with his nose stuck in a book of course and you were showering for bugs to add to your collection butterflies especially seemed to be of your most recent hyper-fixation.

It was sweet watching you two bond even if Quinten did seem vaguely disinterested at first that was until he finally looked up from a page in his book bookmarked between two fingers and watched in awe as you bent over to collect a wounded butterfly and shove it into a clear jar.

Onno grunted at the sight. What kind of partnership would you two be, he wondered. Obviously, it's less complicated than his own with Ada. Max was intelligent of course funny and affectionate, and he had been Onno’s best friend for decades, but Onno did find it odd that he knew nothing of the Mother.

“So she just abandoned a baby on your doorstep?” Too interrupts what must have been Max’s hundredth argument on why you and Quinten being together would be a terrible idea.

“Yes, that’s right. Just a name tag I hardly remember the women a one night stand” He recounts.“And so, how did you know she was yours?” Onno inquired. Max paused as he cleansed his pallet with a sip of wine.

“She was a virgin. Part of the deal was that I would make her night the most memorable of all, so in return, she would heal my Emphysema.” Onno nods. “Seems like a fair deal. You really need to quit the smoking though why don’t you give those patches a try? I think they even make gum now.”

“Gum? Have you ever seen a guy my age chewing gum?” Max scoffs. Onno drops the subject these days Max was careless about his health he had gained some weight and he was getting weaker even you had started to notice. You and Quinten were always out running around in the garden either chasing after the dogs of each other.

“Their not”“I never said they were.”“You're reading too much into it like you always do.”“Nonsense” Onno frowned as he rested his chin on his hand “Look at them! Don’t they remind you of someone?” Onno hums as he raises his brow subtly.“I have no idea who you are talking about”, Max rebuttalsOnno rolls his eyes.

“You and Ada, of course,” Onno coos. “You were head over heels in love with her, practically drooling over her when you first laid eyes on her in that bookshop”, Onno remarks. “Was not?” Max says defensively, “Why deny it? Onno probes

“Does it matter if they’re soulmates or not?”Onno scoffs “When did Max Delius loose interest in daughter’s soulmate?” Onno scoffed; he couldn’t believe it. What was the big deal? Before they had met Ada in that bookshop, all they used to pound over was Soulmates, other than science and philosophy.“Since her Soulmate was Quinten Quist”, Max snaps. He knew it. He bloody knew It.

“You thought he wasn’t.”

“I was wrong.”

“When did you discover?” Onno asks curiously, his complete focus on Max and Max alone.“Last Summer. Quinten spent most of his days in the lawn chair reading he had a nasty sunburn didn’t you notice? He was red like a chilli pepper, and then she touched him, and he was back to his normal pale self. Not only that there was a time when Quinten burned himself with a hot glue gun when he was trying to make a replica of a building she touched his finger, and it healed in a matter of minutes no burning sensation” Max recounted.

“Those could just be a matter of coincidences”, Onno suggested. “Just like us.”“No not like that” Max says shaking his head.“There was another incident one that I hadn’t told you about” max says he pauses as if he’s trying to collect himself. “Which incident?”

“We went out to the lake one hot evening teaching Quinten how to sail, if you remember. Well one night he fell into the water. We were both horrified we though something terrible had happened to him he could have died or he could have experienced head trauma. Luckily, I managed to swim in and save him. When I rescued him onto a nearby dock, she kissed him, and he was perfectly fine.

“You never told me” Onno.Max shrugs lightly. “I didn’t want to worry you about everything going on with Ada; besides, Quinten was fine. She healed him, kissed him, and he woke up; his bruises faded away, and his concussion was gone”, Max explained.“She kissed him?” Onno asks, taken aback, his eyes wide“Yes. She was attempting CPR,” clarified Max“And after the kiss, what happened?”“We went home. They didn’t say anything to each other. Quinten stormed off to his room; he was in such a state,” Max recounted“He was angry? About the kiss?”“He broke one of his plane models on purpose.”

Onno’s eyes flickered back to the two of you in the garden. Quinten’s eyes hadn’t returned to his book yet his lapis lazuli eyes where completely transfixed on you as you show him the little creature you had just added to your collection for once he seemed actually interested in the insect as you shovel it into the palm of his hands. Quinten never liked dirt, but Onno figured he would make an acceptation for you.

“He must have forgiven her then” Onno observes himMax turns in his chair as he watches the two of you giggling.

“Yes he must have” He obverses. You were getting to close for Max’s liking he couldn’t have you two together certainly not as soulmates you were both already best friends, inseparable since birth. Now that you were both adults, it would be merely impossible to keep the two of you apart. It would be only a matter of time before you two begin to act on your feelings and become intimate; it was a topic that made Max feel sick to his stomach the thought of his daughter being with his best friend’s son in that way, just like he was with Ada.

He could remember It like It was yesterday being so young and in love tangled in each other he had never seen such an obvious pairing than to two.

“You’ve had the talk with him, I presume?”Onno looks up perplexed he’s already devouring the pudding the table was still completely covered in food you and Quinten had barely touched your supper.“About Soulmates? Yes, he’s always known they exist. I’ve never shied away from that.”

“No, not Soulmates. Sex. I would prefer it for your son not to knock up my daughter, especially as she has just turned eighteen. Her mother would have a heart attack.”

“And you wouldn’t.”

“You know what I mean,” Max says as he sucks on his bottom lip. “When are you going to tell him?” Max probes, “Tonight. That is my plan if things go accordingly.”Max hums.

“I’m sure it’ll go down well. Remember the time you told him Pluto was a planet?”“He was devastated and didn’t talk to me for weeks”, Onno reflects.

“And how do you think he’ll react to learning that babies don’t come from Stalks?” Max inquires Onno groans he had high hopes before but Max’s comments were enough to diminish his attempts.

“Alright then I think we best be going” Max announces as he gets up. You and Quentin must have been out there for hours you must have been freezing cold Onno pulled Max by the wrist of his suit.“Huh?” Max murmurs

“Wait” Onno instructs him firmly his eyes still on you and Quinten in the garden.

As you take the butterfly back from his hands, Quinten jerks his hand away immediately. He kisses his finger as if he had been bitten but still seems to be in pain. You then murmur a few words to him barely audible through the glass door he then seemingly stretches out his finger, and you kiss it.“There's your proof right there”, Onno comments.“I knew they were I just didn't want to admit it to you” Max reveals. “The thought of them..”

“Is it just because he's my son?” Onno asks, “No, not just because of that...”

“Then why?” Onno prods. Max sighs as if he's trying to compose himself, but then he catches his wristwatch in the corner of his eye.“It's getting late; thank you for having us.”

“Why won't you answer my question?”

“It's not important” Max shrugs Onno doesn't by it something's off.“Would you like the rest of the food wrapped up then?” Onno asks as he stares down at the full table; he can hear you giggling from outside as Max opens the door.

“That would be nice” He comments his eyes still transfixed on his daughter.“My Ladybug it's time for us to go” Max announces he's clearly caught you and Quintin of guard sharing a moment as you stare into his bright sparkling Lapis lazuli eyes.“But Father” You groan can I stay for a few more hours? I want to see Quintin's train set.” Max rolls his eyes “No” he says firmly. “You have your exams next week to prepare for.”

“Aw fine” You groan as you shove the jar into your satchel Onno grins.“Did you catch a good one?” Onno asks “A Saddleback”, You announce joyfully “I'm sure Quentin will be researching it later” Onno comments “Not after the thing bit me.”

 “It wasn't a spine it was a bite and It only did that because you almost crushed it with your big hands!” That comment earns you a smack from Quentin. You hiss and Max glares at him “Enough we'll be going” Max says as he takes the tin foiled wrapped food from Onno and they walk down the hallway.“Goodnight,” Onno says as he closes the door

“Good luck”, Max whispers“I'll need more than that”, Onno remarks as he reaches for the bottle of wine.*******“What did you want to talk to me about, Father?” Quinten approaches him with a book in his hand about the history of butterflies. Perfect, Onno thinks.“I wanted to talk to you about something important” Onno starts Quentin doesn't look up from him as he sits at the table; he is completely immersed in the book's pages.“Is it about Mother?” He asks, “No”, Onno replies.

“It's about something more serious.” This finally makes him look up and push the book away from him.

“Alright then, what is it about? Quinten wonders.“You know how we've always told you that stalks deliver babies?” “Yes”,Quinten confirms.“Well, that's not entirely the case.”“So you lied to me?” Inquires Quinten“I wouldn't say lied more bent the truth.”

“Why?” Quinten asks his Father curiously Onno takes a breath wishing he had taken a sip of the wine instead but it was too early he had to man up and get this over with.“Quinten. As you know, a man falls in love a woman sometimes they are soulmates sometimes they are not when they are though they can heal each other's wounds, emotional or physical.”

“I already know this, Father” Quinten buts in“I know but let me get to the point” Onno stresses “When they fall in love they might decide to have a baby but the stalk doesn't deliver it the stalk doesn't exist so get that story out of your mind. To have a baby, the couple they procreate...As in, they have sex.”

“Sex?” Quinten repeats, “Sex, yes.”

“And what's that?” Onno sighs yet he reists the wine “It's a partnership between two people someotimes to produce a child sometimes just to have fun and produce hormones” Onno tries to explain in a way Quinten would understand.

“And why are you telling me about this, Father?” Quinten asks him, seemingly not phased yet.

“Well, I've noticed how close you and Max's daughter have been getting recently, and I wondered if you were both...intimate.” “Why would you want to know that?” Asks Quinten

“Well if you were I would like to know that you where both beeing safe. If not, you could risk her getting pregnant, and Max wouldn't be too happy about that,” Onno remarks.

“But aren't babies a blessing?” Quinten questions. “They are, but not everyone wants one or can have one, and I thought I would make sure that if you two were together, that you were both safe.”“Well, we're not”, Quinten announces. “Good”

“But we're soulmates, aren't we? You saw the way that butterfly bit me...spited me,” Quinten recounts “I did...Max told me about the sailing incident:” Onno reveals“He did?” Quinten asks defeatedly 

“Why were you angry? You would be lucky to have that girl as your soulmate she seems like the perfect match she's intelligent, curious quirky and wise like you” Onno observes.“You would think” Quinten sighs “But I guess...i was scared I didn't want to ruin anything between us as friends” He reveals.

“Oh well, that is very respectable, Quint”

“Please don't call me that, Daddy. I'm not five years old anymore”, Quinten groans.“Oh well, very well. I'm just glad that you and her are just friends.

*******

“Oh fuck!” You pant as Quinten thrusts himself deeper into you. He had to keep you quiet. The palm of his hand was wrapped around your mouth as he rutted inside you in The Greenhouse.“We can't let them hear us”, Quinten reminds “Slow down!” You reprehend him. Since you had become intimate over the past few months, Quinten was like a wild animal in a heat and seemed to show no signs of slowing down.

You didn't mind of course, it was a nice distraction and a nice stress relief but it would be nice for you two to spend time together without the sex for once no matter how mind blowing it truly was.

You groaned as you came down from your orgasm and you prayed it was your last your legs were shaky as you held onto one of the plant pots for your life. Quinten held your waist firmly and you felt a mix of your and his cum dripping between your legs luckily the aroma was easily hidden by the musk of the plants. Quinten buries his lips into the back of your head. Seemingly satisfied, you watch his reflection in the window's glass.

“You told him we weren't seeing each other, right?” You ask “Of course” Quinten replies as he steps away and helps you get dressed picking your torn skirt from the floor.

“Do you think he bought it?” You ask him curiously Quinten had to be smart about this Onno Quist was a very smart man much like Quinten.“I think so,” He recalls.

“Although I don't think this tear in your skirt is going to help much” He comments and a grin spreads across his lips.“I hate you”, You murmur rolling your eyes.

“That's not what you were crying out a few moments ago.”You hit him just like he did on Christmas. You watch him as he leans closer, parting his lips and pushing your hair behind your ear.

“We probably shouldn't see each other for a while just so they don't catch on. Why don't we stage a fight?” He asks, cupping your cheek. Lost in his Lapis lazuli eyes, you didn't have much room to think this through.“Okay,” You tell him. He was about to lean in and kiss you, but then there was a knock on the greenhouse door.

“Darling,” Max calls. “You should be studying.”“Alright fine Father” You reply. You give Quinten a small nod as you leave, but he feels Max's eyes on him. You both had to sell this fight you couldn't risk his Father and Max finding out you where sleeping with each other behind their backs may as well have fun with it Quinten thought as he watched you leave.

[shrimpmandan]

I honestly fucking hate when antis bring up that fiction DOES affect reality as a counterargument to proshippers bc the thing is they’re not even technically wrong. Fiction and reality are inherently intertwined on some level. For example, fiction often depicts the ideals and standards of the time, or the creator’s lived experience. Fiction can impact reality in the form of individual people, both positively and negatively. For example, a propaganda cartoon vs an educational cartoon. The thing is, antis refuse to acknowledge that the “fiction =/= reality” argument (in the context of proshippers using it) is a direct response to the incorrect assertion that fiction will make people act against their morals. This can be about anything from “incest/abuse/age gap relationships in fiction will normalize it irl”, “video games cause shootings”, “porn causes violence”, or any other amount of honestly baseless and reactionary assertions about the world.

I see propaganda brought up a lot, which is especially frustrating, because antis don’t understand how propaganda works. Propaganda is not something that you watch and suddenly, you’re racist. Funnily enough, propaganda on its own isn’t particularly persuasive or logical in how it’s presented-- it’s just manipulative. Propaganda specifically takes advantage of preconceived ideas, fears, and prejudices-- for example, anti-gay propaganda would play into the idea of gay men being predatory, deviant, and mentally disordered, because that was already the general consensus of the time. Propaganda, by nature, plays into existing emotions, or preys on the human fear of the unfamiliar. This is why the best combatant to propaganda is education.

You can apply this same thing to taboo fiction, violent video games, and violent porn. You could make the argument that these things could have negative influences on children, seeing as they’re much more impressionable and may have a harder time distinguishing between fiction and reality, but the bottom line is kids are not the target audience for any of these things. They are not supposed to be viewing NSFW writings, videos, or games. We already have things like ESRB ratings, “are you 18?” verification checks (as paper thin as they may be), and tagging systems in place for the express purpose of deterring kids (or parents of kids) from seeing something that aren’t meant for them. After a certain point, you really just have to place the responsibility on the parent for either not monitoring their children, or being careless about what kind of content they consume. Aka: NOT the fault of the adults who make or enjoy violent or explicit media.

Going back to propaganda for a minute, with taboo fiction in particular (incest, age gap, etc.), it’s already, y’know, taboo. Meaning people are actively discouraged from participating in, or even just talking about it, since things like incest and pedophilia are already largely considered immoral. Most Western citizens would agree that irl abusive relationships, rape, and the like, are all immoral. So why would reading about it suddenly make them go against the entire worldview and moral upbringing they had? That’d be utterly absurd! However, if someone who was already considering or apologetic towards something like pedophilia were to consume media depicting it positively, it might, and I repeat, MIGHT have a chance to influence them into actually committing an offense. And even then, any evidence of that is extremely flimsy.

There’s been a small handful of IRL cases around fiction and reality. One that comes to mind is the murder trial of Scott Dyleski, wherein the prosecutor asserted that the Invader Zim episode Dark Harvest inspired Dyleski to commit murder. However, this statement was hardly backed up with any kind of proof, and in my opinion, is a weak argument on the prosecution’s end. There just isn’t any psychological evidence that makes a strong connection between dark/violent/explicit media and moral degradation, and while there have been studies done surrounding things like “do video games cause violence?” and “is porn making young men misogynistic rapists?”, these studies either came back inconclusive or even outright stating that no, these things do not lead directly to IRL violence. Simply googling “do video games cause violence?” or “does porn cause violence?” will yield countless articles stating that there’s no strong link between the two things. And, at its core, this is what proshippers mean when they say that fiction =/= reality. To say that fiction is responsible for all of society’s ills, instead of the fact that fiction takes inspiration from the tragedies of the real world, is an absurd take.

Overall, I think I’m still happy with the “fiction =/= reality on a 1-to-1 level” wording that’s since replaced “fiction =/= reality”. It’s far less generalized and overall more difficult for antis to counter with actual evidence (which, let’s be honest, they barely use anyways), even though the only reason proshippers were using such a generalized statement to begin with was to counter another generalized statement: that taboo or violent fiction will always, or almost always, lead to irl crimes and normalization.

[tobikarae]

LOVE YOU SYNDROME ─── three

─── 𝕃𝕆𝕍𝔼 𝕐𝕆𝕌 𝕊𝕐ℕ𝔻ℝ𝕆𝕄𝔼; sano brothers x sister reader

๋࣭⭑ warnings! emotional incest, abandonment, short and rushed chapter, mentions of manipulation

๋࣭⭑ authors note! In @chxrrydarling 's ver the 3rd chapter is a flashback of how Shinichiro sees things but for me I'm gonna make it a Izana chapter. So basically the 4th chapter of this rewrite will her 3rd chapter, does that make sense? also, I'm planning on making one for Mikey to- like, an explanation of why they're so in love with you (I hope all of you know I cringe before posting anything related to writing)

index - two - three - four

Izana couldn't help it. He could help but fall in love with you. I mean, how could he not?

Ever since he was a young child, no one ever paid any attention to him. Nobody cared for him.

That was until the day he met you.

You talked to him in such a polite tone, like a loving parent to their child.

You asked him if he was okay, you asked where he was from, you asked who his parents were. Even he didn't know the answers to your questions.

His answer, “I.. don't know. I don't think I have parents.” it made your hurt ache.

So from then on, you declared him your brother. You made him a part of your family.

Of course, his love for you started out innocent. Just a normal brother-sister relationship.

But as time passed by, as everyone grew older, his love for you ‘evolved’ from a platonic way to a sexual and romantic way.

or maybe he always did love you romantically, he just didn't realize that it wasn't the normal type of love that are shared between siblings.

He was in sixth grade when he realized that you're the girl he wants to spend the rest of his life with.

He knows when you and Shinichiro started the relationship the both of you have, and he also knows that your unhappy but you don't feel like you can stop it.

Because if you do, then Shinichiro would be the one that's unhappy and then you'd feel guilty and selfish about it.

He was a first year in middle school (12-13 years old) when he began making a plan for you and him. He wants you to be happy, and clearly you'd be happy when you get away from Shin.

It was simple and easy to come up with, but the executing part was the hard part.

First, he'd save up money. Get a stable way to make money to make sure that in the future you wouldn't have to worry about money.

Second, he'd start buying you gifts through out the time where he isn't able or allowed to buy stuff like houses yet. When you would ask about money, he'd just tell you he was getting part time jobs and saving up the money. Of course, being the way that you are, he told you to save his money for him and to not spend it on material things for you but that wouldn't stop him. It was a way for him to make you like him even more.

The money he made would be divided into four categories. First, money that he would spend on gifts like dresses and other stuff you might want, second, the money he would save up to buy a house and to pay for the electricity, third, is for college tuition. Both for you and him. Fourth, is a back up for if anything happens.

The third and final step of his plan was the one he is most anxious about, Actually asking you if you'd like to get away from them.

He writes down what exactly he would say when the day comes, and practices in low voice in his room so that no one would here him. He only ever told one person about his plan, and that person is his best friend.

Kakucho thought that this plan was crazy, and would constantly try to find holes in the plan to try and make Izana at least give this a second thought but he would always find a way to solve the issues.

What about Mikey, how would he fit into all this? He'd let Mikey live with the both of you, but of course since he knows about Mikey's growing obsession with you he'd make some rules for Mikey to follow. Like, never making any moves of you.

What about Shinichiro? He couldn't careless about him. Shinichiro has always been a dick to him despite all of his efforts to get close to him. He hates Shinichiro but he'd never say it out loud. If you did worry about Shin then he'd just reason that Shinichiro is a grown man and he could probably deal without you.

What about you though? Well, he'd reason with you. Why would you even want to stay with Shinichiro anyway? Wouldn't you rather be with him? He'd treat you much better. In other words, he'd either manipulate or guilt trip you into going with him.

If you say no, then he'd pretend that he understands. He'd pretend he understands you reasons to stay. But in actuality? He'd be making up a whole plan to make you want to get away even more. A plan where you can't even connect him to everything that's happening. He'd probably get Shin to act like an even bigger asshole or something, it doesn't matter.

He'd do anything to get you to want him, after all.

Ik it's not that big of a deal, BUT TWO CHAPTERS IN A MONTH? I'M SO PROUD OF MYSELF EVEN IF THIS CHAPTER IS CRINGE

tbh I posted this so that I wouldn't have to post in March so maybe no chapters next month lmao✌🏻

[ani-coolgirl]

In White, with a Touch of Red

In White, with a Touch of Red

Pairing: Sam/Jess, pre-Wincest Prompt: For SPN FanFic Pond's October 2023 prompt: Halloween. Read here on AO3. Word Count: 2,583 Warnings: pre-incest, mild feminization

Dean’s seen things, okay? Real shit-your-pants kind of stuff. Actual monsters. Werewolves, ghosts, fuckin’ witches. He’s seen bodies messed up in ways most people can’t even imagine. He knows what fear is, what it tastes like and, more importantly, what causes it.

So he knows what he’s feeling can’t be fear. Just because he’s going on hour two of lurking outside his brother’s apartment doesn’t mean anything. His hands are jittering in his pockets because it’s freezing (never mind that he’s in California and it’s barely dipped below 60). The ball of lead in his stomach is probably from the burritos earlier. And the reason he hasn’t moved is because... because...

He just hasn’t figured out the right approach, is all. Point is, he can go in at any time.

Dean checks his watch. 12:07. Officially Halloween.

“This stupid,” he mutters to himself. “Get move on, Winchester. ‘The hell’s wrong with you?”

Nothing, he decides as his heart double times and drops to his shoes. Absolutely nothing.

He goes with breaking in through the window because the look on Sam’s face will be hilarious (and so Sam can’t close the door on his). He’s not surprised about the lack of security (he can’t imagine students have a budget for that sort of thing) but he is perturbed about the lack of salt. Even starving college kids can afford salt, right? Friggin’ careless.

Dean makes just enough noise to hopefully give enough warning in case Sam hasn’t completely lost his edge and pulls a gun on him. To his delight, his brother actually sort of manages to catch him off guard—but only for a moment. Within moments, he’s got Sam pinned, one hand to his throat and the other to his wrist, and Dean can’t help but flush with glee because it’s like nothing has changed. Sam still fights the same and still feels the same beneath him. He even breathes the same.

“Woah, easy, tiger,” Dean teases.

Sam stills. “Dean?”

Dean laughs and he does his best to keep himself from sounding hysterical because he was not ready for the reality of hearing Sam say his name. Two years. He hadn’t heard Sam’s voice in two years. And now here it is, breathless and a bit confused and so very Sam—

“Get off of me!”

And panicked. And pissed.

Dean’s grin falters. “Hey, maybe if you weren’t so out of practice...”

Sam doesn’t reply. He attacks. Dean’s arm is shoved aside, a heel is jammed viciously into his spine, and suddenly Dean’s on his back, which, oww, actually kind of hurts. “Or not,” Dean gasps. Before he can let out another word, Sam’s shoving him more firmly into the floor (double oww) and scrambling off him. Trying to bolt.

Dean’s veins freeze over. He fucked up. He seriously fucked up. If Sam had told him to piss off, he might have had something to work with; been able to argue with him, knock heads with him, wear him down (or he’d give up, give up immediately and drink until he passed out, but that’s not the point). Instead, his brother’s running like he’s afraid or something and Sam knows better—knows there are things out there worthy of being scared of, and Dean’s not one of them.

Is he?

Dean jumps to his feet and grabs Sam by the arm before he can make it halfway across the room and disappear forever. The fabric of his shirt is strangely slick. “Hey, wait a second—” Sam takes another swing at him which he just barely manages to dodge while keeping a firm grip. “You would calm down? I need to talk to you!”

Sam whips around to look at him, eyes wide and frantic, lips pulled back into a snarl...

And then the lights snap on.

Dean would normally turn to see who the mysterious third party is. Should look, because that’s how they were trained, both of them. You don’t leave a potential threat unchecked. But he doesn’t. Can’t. Because Sam is staring at the floor and Dean is staring at Sam because Sam is...

The outfit is too small for him, obviously. How Sam even got the thing on without ripping it to shreds is a mystery in itself (because it feels like his brother’s grown another foot since Dean saw him last and he doesn’t know how to feel about that). The dress (because it is a dress, Jesus Christ) is bone white, accented with red stitching and bows. The matching red underskirt does nothing to disguise the fact that the whole thing is waaaay too short, showing off scandalous inches of thigh and barely concealing the flash of... oh, God, is that lace? lying just below. The white socks sag just below Sam’s knees, not quite reaching their intended height. In a flash, Dean realizes the getup is supposed to be an old-timey nurse’s uniform, with the only thing missing being the little square hat... which Dean spots on the floor a split second later.

Dean gawks. Sam keeps his eyes on the floor, rapidly turning pink.

“Sam?” a feminine voice demands, and Dean would check her out (is she hot? she sounds hot) but... Sam. Dressed as a nurse. A slutty nurse. He feels like he’s gone insane. “Are you okay?”

“‘M fine, Jess,” Sam mutters to the ground. “This is Dean.”

“Your brother Dean?” she asks and Dean finally looks. Blond, short shorts (almost as short as Sam’s skirt... gah, Sam’s skirt ), and a midriff-exposing Smurfs t-shirt. She is, in fact, hot.

“I love the Smurfs,” Dean blurts and both Sam and Jess look at him incredulously. “Uh, hey. You’re...?”

Jess looks hard at Dean’s hand, still wrapped around Sam’s forearm. Shit, he didn’t even realize. He lets go and sticks the hand out in her direction, which she ignores. “I’m his girlfriend,” she replies icyly. Dean winces and lets his arm drop.

“I’m gonna,” Sam mumbles, nodding in the direction of what Dean assumes is the bedroom.

“You—you don’t have to... It’s fine. I mean,” Dean fumbles. But Sam’s already shuffling away, tugging fruitlessly at the back of the dress to hide the curve of cheek Dean spies as he goes. Dean quickly looks away.

“Me too,” says Jess dismissively, following Sam. Dean doesn’t even bother protesting. The bedroom door shuts with a resounding click and Dean drops into the couch, head in his hands.

“Fuck.”

*~*

Sam drops onto the bed, head in his hands.

“Fuck.”

In an instant, Jess is kneeling by his side, hand on his knee. “Sam, sweetheart, are you okay?”

“Don’t call me that,” Sam snaps. Her touch withdraws and he takes in a shuddering breath. “I’m—I’m sorry. Shit, I’m so sorry.”

“It’s okay,” Jess assures him, rubbing up and down his leg. “I understand.”

“I fell asleep,” Sam explains shakily. His heart’s going a million miles an hour and his hands are shaking and, worst of all, his eyes are burning. He needs her to understand. “When we were done, I was so tired. I fell asleep and I forgot to take everything off. I screwed up.”

“You didn’t screw up, swee—Sam. You didn’t.” Jess insists, squeezing his calf. “You didn’t do anything wrong.”

“But Dean—”

Dean saw. Dean looked at him and was... shocked. Maybe horrified. Sam had been too horrified himself to make sure. In some pale, half-forgotten daydream from puberty, Dean smiled when he saw him looking sweet and delicate. Dean liked him in white. That image had been violently shattered by reality. This is a nightmare.

“Dean should have knocked,” she interrupts firmly. “Dean should have knocked at the front door like a normal fucking person. You didn’t do anything wrong. Understand?”

Sam nods but it’s stiff and he knows it betrays his disbelief. Jess seems to accept it anyway and wraps him in her arms, hugging him tightly. “You don’t have to go back out there,” she whispers into his hair. “I can make him leave.”

“I haven’t talked to him in two years,” Sam murmurs. “Haven’t seen him in three. Then he just shows up and sees me like...” He shakes his head. “No. He wouldn’t come if it wasn’t important. He won’t just leave.”

“I can make him leave,” Jess repeats. “I’ll kick his ass if I have to.”

Sam snorts. It comes out a bit wet but it’s genuine. “Are you gonna beat up my big brother?”

He feels her smile. “Hell yeah, I’ll beat up your big brother.”

He chuckles. “I’d pay to see that.”

Jess pulls away, smoothing down his hair as she speaks. “Seriously though, Sam. You can stay here and I’ll make him go. Or you can change and go out there and tell him whatever you want. Or nothing at all. It’s none of his business. Whatever you want, I’ll back your play.”

Sam loves Jessica so much. It’s something he thought he knew but is brought into sharp focus in this moment. He never knew how desperately he needed someone to always be in his corner no matter what, accepting every part of himself without question (well, almost—but there are some things Jess, or anyone else for that matter, doesn’t need to know). He picks at the stitching of the costume, hating that this might be ruined for him forever... but also knowing that together they could find away to recover it. Or replace it, or, hell, maybe even improve it. He could do that with Jess.

God, he wants to marry her. He wants to marry her so bad. One their wedding night, they’d both wear white.

“Help me?” he asks, gesturing at the costume—it was a bitch and a half to get on without damaging it in the first place—and Jess doesn’t hesitate. She never does.

*~*

Dean jumps to his feet when they finally come out like a gentleman at dinner waiting to pull out chairs and all three of them cringe. This is going to be harder than he thought.

Sam takes a steadying breath. “What do you want?” he asks point-blank, like a gunshot.

Dean winces. Okay, he might deserve that a little bit. He opens his mouth to reply and for one bewildering second, he doesn’t know what to say. The image of his brother in knee-high socks and a poofy skirt has completely robbed him of any rational thought, despite the jeans and hoodie Sam has on now (total opposite of before; Dean wonders if that’s deliberate). He has no idea why he’s here, except, perhaps, to see Sam in drag. Again, if at all possible.

Dean blinks, trying to gather the scattered threads of his thoughts. “Dad,” he manages.

Sam looks unimpressed. “What about Dad?”

Right. Get ahold of yourself, Winchester. This is important. He uneasily side-eyes Jess, who stares daggers at him from Sam’s side. He hasn’t gotten off to this bad a start with a woman since... ever. And it’s about to get worse. “Maybe I can borrow your boyfriend for a minute...?”

“No,” Sam says firmly, wrapping an arm around Jess’s shoulder. “Whatever you want to say, you can say it in front of her.”

“Um.” Could this go into the crapper any faster? He’s been caught completely flat-footed here and has zero space to recover.

He thinks his brother was wearing panties. Is he still wearing them?

Focus!

“Dad hasn’t been home in a few days,” Dean says, trying to lay it on thick.

Sam doesn’t catch on. “So he’s working overtime on a Miller Time shift,” he replies ruthlessly. “He’ll stumble back in sooner or later.”

Hell. So much for subtlety. “Dad’s on a hunting trip,” he tries again. “And he hasn’t been home in a few days.”

Sam’s expression doesn’t change and Dean’s pretty sure this is it. Sam’s gonna tell him to fuck off and he’s gonna have to crawl away with his tail tucked between his legs because he screwed this up so bad and he’s got nobody to blame but himself. And worst of all, he’ll have that... image stuck in his head for the rest of his (probably very short) life and no idea what to do with it because Sam’s never ever going to speak to him again after this. Dean’s done. This is a nightmare.

“Jess, excuse us. We have to go outside,” Sam says stiffly.

Dean tries not to look too shocked or too eager. Relief swamps him. Thank God. He might have a chance to salvage this mess.

Or screw it up more. Could go either way.

*~*

It starts out awkward but Dean seems determined to talk shop and nothing else so Sam goes along with it. He sure as hell isn’t going to complain that Dean’s not mocking him into next week even though the anxiety lingers like a mote in the corner of his eye. Maybe that’s why he lets Dean talk him into going with him. Sheer, mind-numbing gratitude.

Jess doesn’t get why he’s taking off, of course, and Sam doesn’t blame her. By all rights, she should be pissed. But when he reassures her for the hundredth time that he’ll be back in time for his interview on Monday, she finally lets him go with a kiss.

“See you Monday, sweetheart,” she says and this time he doesn’t correct her, even allowing himself to smile. Maybe it’ll be okay after all.

Even after he and Dean hit the road, Dean doesn’t say a word about the costume. It’s all crotch-rock and zero conversation for a good hour, the apprehension building up inside him like a balloon, threatening to pop. And then it does.

“Halloween,” Sam bursts out suddenly. Dean jolts and blinks at him, perplexed. Sam’s neck gets hot and he rushes to clarify. “The... the costume. It was for Halloween. We were at a Halloween party. I lost a bet.”

The lie burns like acid in his throat. Surely Dean can tell he’s lying. Surely it must show on his face. But his brother nods, turning his attention back to the road, and the tension that Sam hadn’t realized was there around his face relaxes. Now he feels even worse.

“Yeah, sure. Halloween,” Dean agrees lightly. “Some party, I guess. College, right?”

Sam drags his hood over his head and gazes out the window. “Yeah,” he says distantly. “College.” That part is at least partially true. It’s not like he ever actually tried anything until college. Hell, he didn’t even dare think about it until Jess. So yeah, college.

He stubbornly refuses to think about turning fourteen, and all the terrible realizations that came with it. To be honest, the costume is the least of it.

*~*

Halloween comes and goes. They don’t talk about it.

When Dean makes a crack about it being his turn to change after he drags himself out of that muddy river, Sam goes a little pale and Dean starts stuttering and there are no follow-up jokes. They don’t talk about it.

They break the case wide open and Sam’s stupidly, annoyingly kind of happy about it and so is Dean and the possibility is there that maybe it wouldn’t be so bad just to mention it in passing... but then Sam says he has to go back and Dean can’t hide how disappointed he is, and it sours the whole thing. They don’t talk about it.

Jessica dies. They don’t talk about it. And now, they probably never will.

[shipcestuous]

This is one of those times I'm so glad this blog and its followers are so open about obscure fandoms, weird takes, and OCs (even when inspired by canon characters). If not for you guys, I wouldn't really have anyone to talk about this and get it out of my head!

Honestly I'm a little bit embarrassed about this, because it all starts with Disney comics. The Mickey Mouse and Donald Duck ones. In Europe and Brazil, they're still going strong, with plenty of new stories across all possible genres, about all possible characters, being published regularly. You can find more information on the topic here: https://tvtropes.org/pmwiki/pmwiki.php/ComicBook/DisneyMouseAndDuckComics

Anyway, not really the sort of thing people usually associate with incest or otherwise "problematic" shipping, right? But, there's this new series of stories that's still being published about an ancestor of Scrooge McDuck (Donald Duck's super rich but stingy uncle) that has always been mentioned through the comics' history as a corsair. You could call the whole thing an attempt to expand on his character and give him an origin story, as he starts out as a humble innkeeper's son with big dreams and secretly join the crew of a corsair in the employ of the British Crown against his parents' will, and as of now he's still nowhere near the fierce captain he's know as in the rest of the canon.

Well, I suppose that's already long enough for a premise! To get to the point of what I actually want to say, in the most recent story in the series, the crew Scrooge's ancestor's sailing with is tasked by the king to find a treasure with a map he entrusted their captain with, all without running afoul of a dreaded pirate who's been targeting the Crown's navy and corsair ships. However, the captain brags about this important mission while eating out with the crew and... guess who shows up on their route, after his men overhear and run back to refer everything to him?

The pirate and his crew make quick work of the corsair ship's crew but (this being a kids' story) they're ready to leave without sinking it or killing anyone as soon as the captain hands them the map. Except, Scrooge's ancestor is as hot-tempered and stubborn as his descendant, and him and another member of the crew, a young female cartographer who's as much of an idealistic dreamer as he is, end up getting themselves captured and forced to do grueling manual work on the pirate ship after refusing to accept that their captain could really just want to surrender like that and still trying to fight back even after everything was over.

Sure enough, right after it turns out the captain only surrendered so easily because he and the king set a trap for the pirate: the map doesn't lead to any treasure but to a tract of sea that ships are rumored to never come back from, and the captain's bragging wasn't carelessness but a way to set the plan in motion. He hid the truth from his crew because he was ashamed of letting himself be talked into using a trick against the enemy instead of beating him in a fair fight, but now two people under his command will pay the price for his deception... of course, the rest of the crew gets him to admit he still remembers the route on the map and to track down the pirate ship to save them despite the risk for themselves.

Meanwhile, back with the pirates, Scrooge's ancestor enters the pirate captain's quarters... and is promptly kicked out in a seemingly nonsensical (and very defensive-looking) rage, because he caught him staring wistfully at the portrait of some guy on the wall. (Very Hark! A Vagrant: Nemesis comic, if you ask me: http://www.harkavagrant.com/index.php?id=327)

Stay with me, I promise this is where things start getting good! Also, at this point I was totally already thinking "oh, is that a portrait of his dad? Maybe he was navy and he was always too busy sailing off on the king's orders to be with him, so now he's bitter...?"

Anyway, things finally clear themselves up when the pirates reach the spot marked on the map and realize they've been duped, as their ship is now stuck in an impenetrable mass of mud and algae and it looks like they'll be forced to live out their days alone on some tiny little island in the Carribean, miles away from all civilization. Tempers start running hot... until they meet a crew that suffered the same fate years ago. The older crew's captain turns out to have been a navy officer and tells them they really have no way out but offers them a place in the community he and his men have built for themselves. But then the pirate captain... starts to antagonize him right away and asks, in a very resentful tone, if he really doesn't remember him.

It turns out I wasn't entirely wrong! The older crew captain recognizes the pirate captain as his younger brother and is shocked and appalled at the man he became. But the pirate captain says he has no right to talk (or even to address him with his real name, which no one has probably called him in years after he chose a more intimidating one for his new position) after he abandoned him when he needed him most.

The older brother argues that he did no such thing, but they just view the same event from two very different perspectives. When the pirate captain was a child, the older brother, who used to live with him and their grandmother, told him he'd be leaving to join the navy because that was his destiny and he had to follow its call. The (still not a) pirate captain begged him to stay, but in return was simply told that he'd understand when he got older and found his own calling, and that their grandmother would take care of him. Suffice to say, he wasn't impressed. Instead, after the older brother left, he swore he'd one day take his revenge on all the king's ships for taking his brother away. And then, of course, the older brother's ship got stuck and he never came home to make him reconsider his goal.

In fact, back in the present of the story, the pirate captain implies he believes the older brother always meant to go away and never come back anyway, possibly because he wanted fame and fortune and their humble family life just wasn't doing it for him. And after implying that, he immediately throws himself at the older brother, sword first, forcing him into a duel. Who's winning and who's losing seems to alternate from moment to moment but, eventually, the older brother kind of calls out the pirate captain for fighting recklessly because he's driven only by his grudge and overpowers him, ending the duel without either of them getting harmed. The pirate captain claims he'll never forgive him and the older brother points out he's never asked for that, but he hopes the pirate captain will learn to see things from a new perspective now. Then he leaves him to stew in his conflicted feelings and once again stare after him as he goes away.

In the end, the corsair ship comes to save the day, minding the danger and keeping far off the coast enough not to get stuck too, and offer to bring everything back to England. The older brother and his crew have gotten so used to life on the island that they don't want to leave anymore, especially since it's not even like all the people they used to know won't have moved on with their lives in their absence. But when it comes tthe time for the pirates to choose, their captain looks to his brother again... and hesitates. A member of his crew (perhaps only out of self-interest, but I like to read a little more into it...) steps forward and helpfully points out that if they go back with the corsair ship, they will all be arrested as soon as they disembark. The pirate captain agrees and so they also stay. (Why couldn't they have pretended to go with the corsair and his crew peacefully then take control of the ship and divert it to go to Tortuga or somewhere else? Maybe they'd left all the weapons except the captain's sword on the pirate ship. Maybe it was just too risky. Or, well, maybe...)

In the conclusion of the story, Scrooge's ancestor reflects that the pirates got a much better ending than what they could have ever hoped for. But it's clear he's thinking of the pirate captain in particular, and how now he's finally reunited with his brother and can work to repair their relationship while hopefully also becoming a better person. As a character, the pirate captain actually mostly serves as a foil to Scrooge's ancestor himself, who starts the story still resenting his parents for forbidding him to chase his dreams of freedom and adventure and trying to convince him that there was no other path for him but taking over the family inn sometimes in the future when they couldn’t run it anymore, thus refusing to write to them when he had the chance to even just to tell them he's alright and doing well for himself. Thanks to him, he sees the hardened and vindictive person he could become, but also that when you're lucky enough to be given a second chance, you should take it. And in particular, he learns how important family is and how terrible it is to push it away or lose it. (His cartographer friends also helps a lot with this last thing, as she reveals to him that her real reason for sailing is that her parents were adventurers until one day they disappeared on a sea voyage and she never saw them again: she thinks they're still somewhere out there and won't allow herself to lose her hope of finding them. I hope she does in the next stories in the series, and gives me some more complex family relationships...)

Now, you get why my incest senses were a-tingle from the first to the last page, don't you...? I really hope so! It was a beautiful story, bittersweet and actually fairly mature for its target audience of kids.

And yet... it bothered me a bit how the pirate captain was mostly written off by the narrative as immature and blinded by hatred. Sure, he was a bad person doing bad things (or as bad as possible in a Disney comic, at least), he let his inner turmoil turn him from a sweet kid into a criminal, and he obviously shouldn’t have tried to skewer his older brother with a sword first thing after finding him again. But he'd clearly never stopped loving him and was deeply wounded by what he thought had happened.

And also... he did have a point, sort of? Chasing your dreams can be a good and noble thing, and that must have surely been the angle the story was going for, to support and parallel the theme of Scrooge's ancestor being a dreamer with an unsupportive family himself. But really, leaving a child with a "oh, it's just my destiny, I absolutely can't stay but also I won't elaborate any further, you'll just get it when you're older" is... yeah, no, I'm almost impressed the pirate captain didn't grow up even more messed up and angsty. (Mind you, he's the kind of character who dresses all in black, with messy long black hair artistically framing and often partially hiding his face and a cool facial scar. He's plenty emo already.)

And while the older brother had no intention of abandoning him or getting stuck on the island, and he did have a right to have his own ambitions outside of taking care of him, I still think saying “I’m sorry for what you went through, and that you thought I didn’t love you,” instead of acting alternatively indignant and stoic and insisting the pirate captain just needed to see things from his point of view, would have gone a long way? Or at least, throwing in a quick "I wanted to come back, once, but now I see I might already have everything I need on this island," instead of immediately saying "we got used to living here so we're staying," might have helped establish that he also really did care and want to patch things up, rather than making it look like the pirate captain was the only one who needed to make an effort? Plus, there's the whole thing about how the story sticks to period sensibilities for some things and going against the British Crown of all things is in itself always framed as bad even when the king proves to be sort of a dastardly scumbag himself, I guess...

So, inspired by both the positive and negative sides of the story I found myself thinking about after reading... I made up in my head a little original story loosely inspired by the two brothers (but with human characters, not anthropomorphic animals, lol) that I'll probably never write down. (Mostly because it's really just a bunch of poorly connected scenes, at the moment... and I don't really feel like doing all the research I'd need for it, not being very familiar with the historical period at all besides, like, watching the Pirates of the Caribbean movies...)

In this story, the older brother is still a naval officer who (somehow) found himself stranded in an unknown island away from civilization, unable to leave or inform anyone back home of his troubles (perhaps due to something supernatural, this time) before managing to come back with what was left of his crew after building a raft and being found and rescued by some merchant ship against all odds and probably a sea storm or two. But this time, there really was an element of wanting more than a monotonous "provincial life" to his choice to sail off, rather than just some vague inner calling, even if he did always mean to come back and see to bettering the younger brother's life as well and giving him a good education, after making enough money for all that.

While the younger brother is still a pirate captain, but this time, he's had to fend for himself ever since the grandmother died a few years after the older brother's departure (their parents having both passed away when he was very little), and becoming a pirate was a choice born out of necessity as much as grief and hatred. His first years as a young cabin boy and his climbing through the ranks until he became captain after that were anything but easy and bloodless, and he's learned to trust no one. No one, except the oldest members of his crew, who've stuck with him ever since they all staged a mutiny against their previous captain and supported him when he took the command, and who are now basically the only family he believes he has, even if he tries his hardest to keep even them at arm's length because, under a carefully curated tough, scary exterior, he's secretly terrified that if he allows himself to be close to someone else, he'll just lose them too. (He has abandonment issues the size of a house.)

Once back in their homeland, the older brother tries to get back his position in the navy, where he’d been rapidly climbing through the ranks too before his disappearance, but he can barely prove who he is, as barely anyone remembers him and he looks like some random shipwrecked sailor telling tall tales. And even after his identity isn’t in doubt anymore, him being reluctant to talk about why exactly he disappeared (again, perhaps due to something supernatural, but maybe it’s about trauma too) makes everyone think he’s a bit touched in the head and unfit to reprise his role. His pride wounded and his attempts to go back to his old life and regain a sense of normalcy about to be dashed, he impulsively vows to capture this young hotshot pirate he's been hearing about since his return and who’s been putting the king’s navy to shame and robbing his merchant ships blind, and gathers a new crew made up of what few of his men decided to stick with him instead of leaving to try and find their families and friends again (or who just didn’t blame him for getting them stranded for slong) and what few new recruits agreed to join him for what little play he could offer…

Obviously, they all get killed or captured by the younger brother. Who is about to kill the older one during a fight at sea but then recognizes him as soon as he gets close enough to strike the fatal blow and just knocks him out instead, ordering his men to take him prisoner, claiming he’ll see if they can get some ransom or some info about the navy’s plans to dealing with them out of him and his ragtag crew but really having no idea what he’ll do next. He is, of course, internally devastated and furious and so so confused, with a dash of incredulous relief and excitement he desperately tries to repress deep down inside him, under his icy exterior. His most loyal man immediately pick up on it and start suspecting something's up.

The older brother isn’t quite as keep on the uptake but, eventually, he figures out that the despicable (yet handsome) pirate whom he’s supposed to bring to justice and who keeps glowering at him while ignoring the rest of his men and making angry, cryptic remarks at him, is really the sweet, sensitive little brother he thought he’d left safe and sound at home and was crushed to be unable to find again (he tried to look for him at first when he came back, but then he didn’t find anyone when he returned to their old house, got told by locals the old lady there had died and the boy had moved shortly after, and resigned himself to having lost his family and being unable to do anything about it) and, more than that, who clung to him and begged him so earnestly to stay when he told him goodbye.

Naturally, now they’re both confused, devastated and furious at each other. Cue a back and forth of accusations that they both deny and insults that cut deeper than either of them could imagine. And both crews figuring out what’s really going on, with the older brother's men realizing they've just followed a possible madman right into a convoluted family drama and thus exasperated at both him and their own life choices, and the younger brother’s (especially the older men, who knew him when he was a novice sailor who’d sometimes let slip sad little things about his family and watched him grow into their cold, ruthless leader) doubling the hostility towards the older brother because they feel super protective of their captain in their own way and don’t want him to get any more emotionally hurt.

From then on, it’s all about petty skirmishes hiding deeper issues and a lot of hurt on both sides… because I quite simply think not nearly enough media about siblings being enemies or rivals takes advantage of all the possible childish pettiness of the dynamic. The older brother tries to corrupt a member of the younger’s crew to carry a message to the local authorities the next time they have to make port to get supplies, only for him to relay everything to his captain? “Our honored guest, the brave pirate-hunter, would do well to remember how he could never even talk his way out of a thrashing from our grandmother after sneaking out at night with his friends, before he attempts any further negotiations.” The younger brother sends down his men to the older’s cell to threaten him? “Mr. Bosun, please be so kind as to remind your captain that I used to tuck him in every night and sing him lullabies when he woke up from having night terrors, so he’ll have to do better than this if he really wants me to see him as someone I should be intimidated by.” And yet, as this goes on, sometimes it ends up sounding like a much easier sort of bickering between brothers, almost like they’re making up for lost time or they both just really really want to remember their shared childhood and to test the waters to see if the other harbors the same wish��� and at some point, even the crews notice this and start to warm up to both, wish for a peaceful resolution between them (which would be beneficial to them as well, at least in the case of the older brother's crew'), and very carefully start nudging them in the right direction to try to get them to admit how they really feel.

To eventually move the “plot” on, I think the brothers would then have to team up against another threat, possibly an older and even fiercer pirate who pretended to ally himself with the younger brother only to stab him in the back later because he felt threatened by his rising star, with the younger brother already knowing he should keep an eye on him from the beginning due both to pirates not being the most reliable allies in general and to his own trust issues but being too distracted by the older brother being back in his life to really pay attention to anything else in the end.

After a bit more of a heated back and forth with plenty of recriminations (“this is your fault, none of it would've happened if you’d just stayed gone forever!” “Oh, so it’s my fault if you’re a criminal who associates him scum and, somehow, that didn’t work out splendidly for you?”) finding themselves needing to work together to survive would cause the love both brothers deny to still feel for each other to take center stage and push them to look out for one another, have each other’s back in the face of mortal danger, and finally, in the quieter moments, admit that they really want nothing more than what they used to have together and talk about what really happened to both of them openly and honestly. They’d both be horrified at what the other’s gone through in their years apart and regret causing them more pain on top of that, and even with some difficulty and uncertainty caused by the fear of being refused by the other, they’d both finally take responsibility for their own bad choices, flaws, and mistakes. And then… maybe they’d also find the courage to admit that their feelings aren’t strictly familial anymore more and that (surprise!) this has been a slowburn incest story all along. (The crews are, for the most part, supportive. Incredibly weirded out but, to be fair, most of them have seen even weirder shit at sea…)

In the end, they obviously take down the other pirate together and, after that, I could see three possible conclusions:

The navy assumes the older brother is entirely responsible for the other pirate’s capture, gives him back his position, hires his crew, and expects him to bring the younger brother and his men to justice as well. The older brother pretends to go along with all this but at the last moment he lets the younger get away, making it look like an unfortunate mistake. The two of them know one day they may meet and have to fight each other again, and quietly pine away for each other and their impossible love in a bittersweet ending.

Same as above, but it’s only the younger brother who assumes the older will accept the whole deal and, at best, allow him to get away, at worst, let him hang. Instead, the older brother credits him and his men for helping with the capture and pleads their case to the authorities until he gets them all a pardon and the chance to work as corsairs in the service of the Crown. The younger brother still has a healthy dislike for the king and the navy, but now that the older is back and loves him as family and more, maybe he can’t rightly blame them for taking him away anymore. And taking the deal (and the chance not to have to fight his brother again) is, after all, better than dying an taking all his crew along with him for his pride…

Same as above, but the older brother has become disillusioned with both the navy and the Crown through the story, so he bids goodbye to all that he started out trying to regain and refuses. The two brothers then sail off together and retire with their respective crews somewhere where no one knows them, hiding their true identities so they can all live as they wish.

In addition, somewhere during the whole mess… just because I love kink as character exploration and a bit of flustered jealousy here and there in my incest… the older brother somehow finds out that the younger has a thing for men who are older than him and able/willing to both dominate him and make him feel safe, cared for and cherished at the same time. It absolutely stems from the abandonment issues he helped cause, and anyway the younger brother never picks guys he feels he could really be very close to or have any permanent (or as permanent as a pirate could make it) relationship with (because he’d much break things off soon than stay and see if they’d run off on him later, even if during sex, he can’t help but want them to reassure him they’re not going anywhere, even if just for the moment), but the older brother absolutely freaks out when he first learns of it.

He tries to tell himself that it’s because homosexuality is wrong and he doesn’t want to think of his own brother debasing himself like that (even if he’s well aware that men getting closer over long voyages at sea might often find they have an interest in that sort of things, and despite trying to repress his own instincts for years, he's also had a couple of boyfriends himself when he was younger) and then, once their relationship has improved a bit, that he doesn't like it because the younger brother's lovers just seem uncaring and untrustworthy  and thus unworthy of him. (Maybe the other pirate they end up fighting together is the latest one on a list of unadvisable lovers, because under all the distrust there’s some simmering attraction, just to complicate everything further? Him perceiving that something's not quite right and taunting both brothers with the relationship, stirring up one's shame and rage and the other's jealousy and protectiveness and general possessiveness, would be kind of...) But near the end of the story, he’s forced to recognize that he’s simply attracted to that vulnerable side of the younger brother, that chink in the armor he’s painstakingly built over the years, and wants to have it (as well as all the rest of him) to himself only. Until he does, thought, that’s another thing driving a wedge between the brothers, as the younger one feels, on top of everything else, ashamed of his softer and more needy side being revealed to someone who hurt him and also rejected for who he really is by someone he can’t help but still care for. (And, even if only subconsciously, afraid that he might never have a chance with the older brother, after such a negative reaction...)

I realize I’ve written like a whole novel without meaning to, and I promise I’ll stop now, as well as apologize for the endless rant in your inbox. XD But damn, it really does feel good, getting all that out and sharing it with someone who I know won’t judge!

Inspiration comes from all places. No need to be embarrassed if it was a Donald Duck comic! That's a really rich, mature storyline between brothers from such a source, and the OCs and their dynamic you built from it is so cool. That would make a great novel. I'm such a sucker for brothers in an "i hate you but I don't really" situation.

I'm so glad you shared your thoughts with us!

[weezeryuri]

the followup ask wasn't me but otherwise yep, right person! "privacy"? the privacy of posting about me for a year straight, on a public account, on a public site, surrounded by peers? on the account MY friend was ~mutuals~ with you on, where he had to see you shittalking me on his dash weekly? the privacy of misinterpreting every thing i said to you so you can hide your (justifiably) hurt feelings behind "Actually ableism is the fault of all of this!"? the privacy of painting me as an ableist, as your Gross Icky Pr*ship Ex Friend, trying to get everyone to pity you, be on your side, because "it was an ugly friend breakup" won't justify the extent of your feelings (IT WOULD), in your head? THE PRIVACY OF DECRYING ME AS AN "INCEST SHIPPER" (NOT EVEN TRUE)???? i wasn't even looking at your blog in the first place, i heard secondhand, that's how ignorant and obvious your comments were. your words and Ideas about someone (that you Literally Are publically crying out) don't exist in a vacuum, they MEAN something, and other people will hear them. or did you care about decrying your Beloved Exfriend, Older [Sister] Figure as this and that hurtful thing and the impact of it as much as you cared about the friendship i was struggling and reaching out a hand (that i never Needed or Expected you to reply to) to maintain and let live and, I Dunno, Not let you be isolated in an echo chamber of your own anxiety forever? the attempted friendship that you valued less than venting on tumblr all day long? that you valued as much as listening to your two remaining friends that were trying to help you? but have fun believing me checking in on you for months on end, encouraging you when you Were capable of saying anything, waiting for you no matter what, trying to involve you in our lives so you weren't permanantly stuck in 2021 alone and unloved and unheard, and sending you paragraph after paragraph of apology and clarification to clean up the mess i made... was just ableism. i hope you enjoy never thinking about it, never rereading what i said, and pinning every shitty thing i did on Must be cause i'm oppressed, and living without the nuance you claim to use. i hope you enjoy crying about it publically to people you only talk to indirectly, to people who will never get to know you directly, because you've made your stance on any closeness or attempts at it deathly clear. i hope you keep whining that i'm only "ableist", and i hope nobody truly hears you, like it has been for the last year. rot in your own refusal to change

Jesus Christ man you do realize you said some horrendous and ableist shit to me (i still have screencaps before you go calling me a lying piece of shit) and have actively gone out of my way to block you and anyone who interacts with you on here.

you took advantage of my sadness at a very vulnerable time and used that to fight with me over shipping discourse because i dared to imply i’m scared of a group directly connected to my groomers

you need to fucking get your shit together because the way you’re acting is pathetic and the shit you did was horrible and you have no right to decide what and what isn’t ableist. of course it isn’t ableist to you. nobody ever gives a shit unless we’re directly being called useless cripples.

grow the fuck up and leave my life entirely. you did not try to involve me in your lives, you messaged me at 3 am telling me all my problems were my fault such as using cases of my chronic fatigue to paint me as lazy and careless. and then said you didn’t like me since 2020.

i GRIEVED our friendship. you hurt me over the dumbest shit when i was at our most vulnerable when i thought i could trust you. it was performative at best and actively hateful at the worst. you used words from a private vent blog to make me feel like shit

“wow cripple you didn’t suck up your fatigue and talk to me? you must hate me so much and want us all dead and think I’m a predator and and and etc etc”

this is my blog and i can post about whatever the fuck i want. i never mentioned your name or where to find you. please go the fuck away because now i can just confirm this is an act of purposeful malice and it hurts. i trusted you so much.

[teenangstenthusiast]

I know u are 17 and so things are just gonna be hard to navigate for a while. but I think a lot of ppls issues is that incest is extremely prevalent, and more ppl are victims of incest than u might think. and u seem to have a very cavalier attitude towards it and that the idea that anyone could be upset or put off or frustrated about ur attitude towards it makes them the one in the wrong. just food 4 thought. I think ppl r going to have a very adverse reaction 2 seeing some1 sexualize and romanticize one of the most heinous forms of abuse.

there’s no issue w ppl being upset by it, which is exactly why i’ve make it clear in my info that i post about it quite often & why i don’t bring it up anywhere outside of tumblr or in places where it’s expected. anyone has a right to softblock or unfollow or anything like that, i have nothing against them & id completely understand . if this is referring to like, the server stuff, i’ve never spoken abt incest on there & ppl saying that i have have either misinterpreted my words or are intentionally making them seem like i’ve said something i haven’t

that being said, i agree i’ve been careless about how i’ve spoken about it on this blog before & i genuinely apologize. if i have ever come across like i think the ppl who are uncomfortable with what i talk abt or the way i talk abt it are stupid, i promise it wasn’t intentional and i have never felt that way abt anybody

the only time i can remember speaking that way is during the server incident, but like i said , incest was never mentioned there & if they had actually tried to talk to me abt something i had done wrong i would have no problem w that & i would listen. but that just isnt what happened . they immediately accused me of several things without letting me explain or defend myself & were actively trying to make me seem like a child predator. they had only started wanting to be civil after i had left the server & made it seem like i was the one antagonizing them first when that absolutely isnt the case at all . i got panicked & overwhelmed by all of this so i lashed out in my posts abt them, but in no way did i mean to make it seem like anyone who is frustrated or made uncomfortable by my attitude on this blog is in the wrong. i’ve been in private conversation w one of the main ppl involved & they agreed that the way they handled the situation was horrible & apologized for it

i hope none of this response seems angry bc i get where ur coming from , i just felt maybe i should clear some stuff up . i really am sorry to anyone who i might have hurt by talking insensitively abt those topics. that’s something i should fix & i’m going to try my best to keep myself better in check in the future

[humanpurposes]

it’s interesting you think the show is trying to set something up between them! a reliable leaker has said that it’s absolutely not happening and will remain a fanon ship. I’m of the opinion people saw things that were not there and based it off a single line of dialogue which encompassed aemond’s dutiful nature compared to aegon’s carelessness towards it. besides that, there’s really nothing “hinting” at it whatsoever imo.

They are really small moments, episode 7 where Aemond says “he would do his duty”, and in episodes 8 and 9, considering how little screentime Helaena has, a lot of it focuses on her and Aemond.

Is this the writers hinting at a possible relationship? Or is it just a few throwaway moments? It depends how optimistic we are about the intentions of the writers to be honest. Considering how much time they wanted to cover in season 1, there shouldn’t be room for throwaway lines, especially in the same universe as Game of Thrones where the series’ strength is in the dialogue. I would hope that everything has a purpose, down to those little details. But then there are some other moments and changes that don’t seem to have been thought through as much (like most of episode 9). I would hope it means that Aemond sees himself as the dutiful son, and that he cares a lot for his sister, in a platonic, non-incest way :)

I think we also have an interesting scenario in that show!Aemond and book!Aemond are very different characters. There’s definitely room for those changes to happen, but I don’t see how any of that would work if he’s romantically involved with Helaena. Why would he leave her in King’s Landing? Why would he get involved with Alys? Why would he not go back on Vhagar? Why would he go on a suicide mission when his family is still in danger?

I don’t actually think it’s likely to happen, and usually I’m a “take the show for what it is” kinda fan, I try not to set too many expectations, but Helaemond being a thing would genuinely upset me haha.

[ophelieverse]

Hi! I was thinking about Jacaerys and his Targaryen!wife welcoming their first baby, a little girl (you choose if Strong or Targaryen appearance). Just a fluff story of a teen couple being cute.

ღA daughter of the summer.

Jacaerys Velaryon x fem!reader.

I added a little something in the beginning,because I’m a simp for simp Jace.Hope you don’t mind and that you will like it anyway.Let me know what you think💕(sorry for the errors)Also reader is a Targaryen so she will have their features,if incest makes your uncomfortable do not read.

••••••••••••••••••••••

It happened during the summer,when he was just a child,a small boy who didn’t knew anything about it,who only ever saw love reflected in his mother sweet eyes.

It wasn’t love at first sight,he had known her since their were born,and it didn’t even happened the second,the third or fourth time that he saw her.It happened the summer of his ten years,when Jacaerys first realized what love was and that he was in love with Y/n.

The sun was up in the sky warming everything with his rays,the golden light made it look like it was a fairytale,the sound of the crushing waves on the shore and the calming breeze of the wind were the most beautiful lullaby.

The two of them were sitting on the beach,they clothes wet and clinging to their bodies,sand all over their hands and faces after playing in the water all evening.They had always been this close,sharing secrets,codes,dreams together,but it was on that day that Jacaerys felt for the first time something pulling his heart.

Y/n was sitting next to him,her light green dress was promoted above her knees,her long pale blonde hair sticking to her warm face and neck,her eyes were closed enjoying and bathing in the sun to dry herself before her mother could come and get her.Like this he didn’t look like a princess,a proper Lady for her age,but she didn’t care.

She had always felt safe,sheltered by Jacaerys presence,like she could decide to wear a potato sack or act like a wild child raised by wolves and he wouldn’t question her,not even blink his eyes,before joining her in her careless and free nature.

«Mother said that when i’ll come to the age,i will have to marry Lord Lannister son.»Y/n said,her voice was calma as the wind,her purple eyes now opened to turn and look at the boy next to her.

Jacaerys stood silent,the only noise was his pulse drumming in his ears.He felt his mouth go dry,a strange pain,like a sting,the words that had just left her mouth,hurting his entire body and freezing his mind.

«I hope that day will never come.»she said again,her eyes were sad,the sound of her voice flickering something in him.

He wanted her happy,he always did.He wanted someone to know the warmth of her smile,to feel the way he did when he was in her presence.He wanted someone to care for her,to read her stories with a calm and soothing voice when she was sad,to remember remove the peel on her fruits,especially on peaches,or to cut her bread in little stars form so that she could eat it more willingly.Someone who would let her play with their hair when she was zooming out,to help her come back to reality,to help her calm down by caressing her back but only from her shoulders to the bottom,no the other way around.

It was only in that moment that Jacaerys realized how much he actually knew about her,all her little small details that he had memorized and kept close to him,where nobody could have ruined them,right in his heart.

He felt a connection with Y/n,a bond that he couldn’t explain to anyone because even him couldn’t understand.When two souls intertwine to each other,there is nothing but yearing to be close to the other.The presence that is felt by hand held,a voice heard,a smile seen,the burning desire that was consuming his very being,the strength he had to put to not tuck a strand of her hair behind her ear and brush her soft skin,felt like love for the first time.

Souls don’t have calendars,nor they understand the notion of time and distance.They only know that it feels right to be with one another.

This was the reason why Jacaerys felt his chest ache,his hands sweating,and his body itching to be close to her.That was the reason he missed her so much when she wasn’t not there,even if she was just in the room next to his,the feeling of not being graced with her presence even of a second felt like an agony.

His soul felt her absence,the very moment she had announced her mother plans for her,it was like she was saying goodbye to him.But he couldn’t let her,how could he survive without the way her eyes sparkled whenever she was explaining something to him,the way her warm hands touched his whenever she felt overwhelmed and needed someone to support her in the room,the way she waited patiently for him to tie up the cloak on her shoulders when it was too cold or her hair up when it was too hot?

He needed her right next to him as much as she needed him,no one else would take care and love her like he did.

«Would you think of me?»Jacaerys asked suddenly.

Y/n looked at him,confusion all over her beautiful face«For what?»she asked.

He smiled,looking at her like every girl wanted to be looked at«If the day of marrying Lord Lannister son won’t come.»he started with a hopeful voice«Will you think about marrying me?».

Y/n had thought about it every day,months and year till she became eighteen,the right age to finally become a wife just like her mother did.

It was again another summer and the young princess thoughts were set on him.She was his aunt,his mother youngest sibling,but it never felt wrong for her to think about Jacaerys in that way.

Being able to find someone you click with so naturally,was the most beautiful feeling.The feeling to be this close to her best friend for her whole life,felt like coming home.She had always felt so comfortable with him,maybe that was what having a soulmate felt like.Not someone she could have shared something in common with,but someone who felt like home.

Y/n didn’t wanted some other rich or handsome man,she wanted Jacaerys.Him who could always understand when her eyes were sad,or how sometimes she stumbled on her words,telling her to breath and start again slowly,him who would point to his chest and tell her “Here is your home.”

«You are in love with him.»Helaena,her older sister,had pointed out one day with a soft voice.

Y/n felt her cheeks heating up,a warm feeling in her chest«How do you know?»she wasn’t even denying it at this point.

Her sister smiled to her tenderly«I can tell by the way you look at him.»she explained.

«Oh?»she said surprised«And how do i do that?»she asked.

Helaena held her hand«Like when he finally look in your direction,you can breath for the first time.»

She looked at him the way he needed to be looked at,like the whole world could crumble down and she wouldn’t even blink.

Years later,under the sunset,orange and pink painting the sky and the clouds roaming around in their softness,they were both laying on a blanket on their spot on the beach.

He had become taller,his hair longer,but he was still the young boy who had fell hopelessly in love with her all those years ago.

Jacaerys removed the peel on the peaches,passing them to Y/n who was sitting right next to him.She was wearing a beautiful emerald dress,a color that he only loved on her and no one else,he had also tied up her pale hair so that they couldn’t get in the way while she was eating.

He never cared about peaches,he didn’t even actually liked them,but that summer her plump lips were so stained with the juices that it was the only thing he ever wanted to taste.

He didn’t had a favorite fruit,but right now,with her next to him laughing at all his jokes,he sworn to the gods that he would be more that happy to eat peaches all his life if that meant having her.

«I thought of you.»she said suddenly,a longing expression on her beautiful face.

Jacaerys took a napkin in his hand,remembering how soft and clean her the skin of her face felt under his palm as he wiped her chin gently«For what?»he asked.

Y/n had a smile on her face that only him was able to put on her«The day of my marrige with Lord Lannister son is coming closer»she started with a shaky voice,the painful light in his eyes stung her heart«But i want to marry you.»she told him,opening up her biggest desire.

Jacaerys heart was beating so fast that he thought he could had lost it,like it was trying to escape to be with hers«You thought about me?»he asked again,his voice was thin,his eyes never living an inch of her face.

She nodded immediately,her cheeks were the same color of the sky,softer than the clouds«It’s you i want to be married with.It’s you in a thousand of lifetimes,in a hundred of ways.It’ll always be you for me.»she stated.

Jacaerys caressed her cheek,her felt warm and familiar.He felt solid and safe,his shy smile the only happiness she ever felt and his arms the only home she wanted to live in.She wanted to cling to his shirt,bury her face in the warm curve of his neck and never let go.

«I thought of you too.»he had to let her know,what by now their heart already understood long time ago.

«Did you?»Y/n asked with a little giggle,the sound blessing his ears.

Jacaerys nodded his head,still caressing her skin«I always think of you before i fall asleep.The words you said,the way you looked.The things we laughed about and the silent moments we shared.»he started,the sincerity in his voice and the way his eyes glowed drinking in her figure,made her shiver.

«And when i dream,i dream of you.Because it’s about you,it’ll always be about you.»he said.

Y/n reminded him of every good day he had,of every summer spent on the beach and swimming the sea.Every sunrise,every sunset spent in her presence.She looked like a goddess,and smelled like light.And whenever she spoke to him,it felt like someone was slowly plucking the string of an arp,a beautiful song staring to play,her melodious voice all for his own.And he loved her,every single minute of it.

The he was kissing her,his fingers running through her hair and her heart beat was merging with his.Somewhere above them,the little stars that took the sun place,were burning out for them.Fire coming alive at the other end of heart,the world seemed to cave in as his knees buckled tasting the sunshine and the peaches on her lips,his thoughts racing as if it was his last moment.

They fell on the blanket in a tangled mess of wild wandering limbs,their lips never leaving each other.Jacaerys grabbed her by the waist with trembling fingers,he was gentle,scared of hurting her.

Y/n laughed,a sound that he could listen to for the rest of his life«You know i’m not going to break,right?I’m not as delicate as you think i’m»she stated with a little smile.

Jacaerys shuddered«I still think i’m going to break you.I can’t believe i’m doing this,never in my wildest dream-»

She put a finger on his lips,silencing his worries«Just kiss me.»she breathed.

It happened so many years ago,when Jacaerys first realized that he was in love with Y/n for the first time.And now it was clear for everyone,it could be seen in their eyes;that they weren’t quiet friends anymore.

They way she smiled for him,the way his face lit up when she was speaking to him,the way they held hands and presented the joyful news that now Y/n was expecting the child of the heir to the throne.Everyone could see it,clear as the day,they weren’t friend anymore but they grew in something even greater.

Swearing their love in front of their family and realms,now waiting for the result of their undying feeling for each other.

Another summer had come by,before the glowing sun could sunk down the horizon and the moon took his place,a high pitched cried echoed in Y/n chambers.

The young princess was laying in the bed,her white nightgown was stained in blood between her legs,clinging her skin just like her hair were sticking on her neck.Sweaty and tired face,the painful feeling seemed to disappear from her aching body when the midwife handed her child to her husband.

«Congratulations,my prince»the Maester said«It’s a girl.»

Jacaerys vision was blurred,hot tears in the corner of his eyes as held close his daughter to his chest.A girl,a beautiful girl with tufts of blonde hair and dark black eyes,a perfect resemblance of him and his wife in everything he was looking at.

«Oh,she is so beautiful.»he stated with a tremble in his voice«We are gonna love her so well.»he promised her,now handing his daughter to his wife safe and loving embrace.

Y/n smile lighted the entire room«She has your eyes»she noticed with teary eyes.

Her daughter little red face was looking up at her,the same dark eyes that Y/n had grown to love and to find reassurance in,so glad that she inherited the same trait.

It made her heart warm up,the little girl being born just the first day of another summer,during the warm weather and longer days.The days Y/n and her husband had spent loving each other dearly,growing up together,discovering themselves and watching at their young love bloom.

A child of the summer for when their soul bonded to each other forever,for whe they first realized that they belonged in each other presence.A summer princess with beautiful blonde eyes like her mother and her father eyes.

Jacaerys sat down on the warm bed,close to where his small family was.His heart exploding with all the love he was feeling in that very moment,watching his wife,a force of nature,bringing him the best gift he could ever asked for.

«She is as beautiful as you,my Y/n.You are so brave and so strong,for giving me everything i ever wanted.»he was stroking the hair out of her face,placing a loving and tender kiss on her lips.

«There is nothing i wanted more.»she said,kissing him again.

«What shall be her name,my prince?»the Maester asked then.

His daughter squirmed in his wife arms,but she didn’t cry no more.Already feeling safe and at ease in her parents presence.

«Alysanne»said Jacaerys,the perfect name that his wife chose long time ago.

«She will be a good queen one day.»Y/n said,lulling her daughter in her arms.

Jacaerys smiled,with so much sincerity.If his younger self could see him right now,he would be so proud of himself for having the courage to take everything he ever truly wanted.

If his younger self asked«If you could only eat one thing for the rest of your life,what will it be?»

«Peaches.»he would answer«I could live a life on nothing but peaches.»

[akittenwrites]

Blood of the Dragon

Author: @akittenwrites

Summary: Daemon and Y/N Targaryen's relationship is quite strange for an uncle and his niece, but the heart wants what it wants.

Type: one-shot

Pairing: Daemon Targaryen x reader

Word count: 2055

Warnings: swearing, hardcore smut, incest, age gap.

She slowly sank into the hot bath water her maidens had prepared for her, sitting on her knees so it would cover her shoulders. They knew how she liked it: scalding hot, with rose fragrance. The heat was comforting on her naked skin. It didn't burn her. She was a dragon after all.

Only a few minutes later she heard the door to her chambers open and close, and the heavy steps of the man she had been waiting for approaching.

"Don't you think we're becoming too careless?" she asked once he was in the room, examining her nails. Then she turned around, looking at him with mischief in her eyes. "Prince of Dragonstone."

Daemon smiled at her as he started to undress.

"How so?" he asked, carefully putting his sword down and getting out of his boots.

"You visit my chambers at night, with the knowledge of the guards and servants. If word of this got out..."

"It will not," he assured her. "There is not a single person in Dragonstone that isn't loyal to me. And even if they weren't, they know the cost of spreading rumors."

Y/N placed her arms on the edge of the bath, admiring Daemon's naked body as he stood before her. His broad shoulders, his toned muscles, the scars from his battles... When she had left King's Landing a year ago to join Daemon at Dragonstone, they had told King Viserys she just wished to spend more time with her uncle after he had been widowed. Viserys had been like a father to her after her own parents had tragically passed away, so he suspected nothing of the nature of their relationship. Nobody did.

While Daemon was a widower now and Y/N was still unmarried, their relationship would be too controversial were it to become public knowledge. Yes, Targaryens practiced incest to keep the bloodline pure, but between siblings and cousins. Uncles didn't fuck or marry their nieces. That was taboo, even in their family. Daemon didn't care, but she did.

"You're staring." Daemon's voice brought her back to reality. She smiled as she bit her lip, not even pretending to be ashamed.

"I am just admiring the most fearsome man in Westeros," she purred, following him with her eyes as he slowly got into the bath with her, sitting on the stone step at the edge and submerging himself up to his chest. It was so large there was more than enough room for both of them. "The most handsome. The bravest..." she paused, licking her lips as she got closer to him, placing a hand on his shoulder. "The most desired."

He didn't say a word, his gaze wandering from her eyes to her lips.

"And only I get to fuck him," she whispered, inching even closer, pushing her breasts against his toned chest. "Isn't that the truth, my prince?"

His eyes darkened as he slowly ran his hands down the sides of her body, following her curves. He stopped for a moment to squeeze her buttcheeks, making her gasp, and continued until they were under her thighs, lifting her a little to help her sit on his lap. She felt his hard cock as it brushed against her belly.

"Fucking is a pleasure I only share with you, princess," he replied, placing a finger against her lips. She licked it with the tip of her tongue, before closing her lips around it and sucking on it, her eyes never leaving Daemon's. He ground his hips against hers in response. "I would never leave your cunt if it were up to me."

She moved her hips as well, reaching down to grab his cock, stroking it a few times before slowly sinking down on it, throwing her head back as he stretched her open in such an intoxicating way she couldn't help the strangled noise that left her throat.

"Daemon..." she moaned, clenching around him. "Why do you always have to feel so fucking good?"

She felt his warm breath against her skin as his lips ghosted over her neck, slowly moving upwards and reaching her ear, almost tickling her.

"Do you really want to know why?" he whispered.

She arched her back in response, wanting him, needing him to move, to fuck her, to ruin her like he did every single night. But he didn't.

"Because you are meant to be mine," he said, making her dig her nails into his shoulders. She tried to ride him, to feel him, but the firmness of his grip on her hips forced her to stop.

"Don't..." she started to complain, but he shut her up capturing her lips with his. She relaxed, wrapping her arms around his neck and kissing him back slowly, exploring each other. He slipped his tongue inside her mouth, finding hers, and she slid it against his, desperate to feel more of him. Delirious, she tugged on his hair, deepening the kiss even more as their lips clashed against each other. His hands moved to cup her breasts, using his thumbs to draw circles on her hardened nipples. Her skin was burning, and Daemon didn't seem to care at all, pinching one of her nipples instead, making her breath hitch and break off the kiss. She looked at him, her lips swollen and her eyes glassy, pleading, begging. "Why won't you fuck me?"

His pupils were blown with pleasure when he looked back at her, the violet almost gone from his eyes, replaced by black. His skin was glistening with a mix of sweat and beads of water, his breathing heavy as his cock throbbed inside her. He leaned back to rest his neck on the edge of the bath, his eyes not leaving hers.

"I am fucking you," he replied, thrusting his hips up and burying his cock even deeper inside her. "Is it not enough for you?"

She felt drunk and hazy as he continued to fondle her breasts yet refused to move his hips.

"No..." she breathed out.

"Why not?" he asked, running his hands through her hair, wet and tangled.

"Because we're dragons," she whispered. "And dragons don't wait to get what they want."

A slight smile graced his lips, pleased with her answer.

"We are," he agreed, tracing an imaginary line with his index finger that started at her collarbone and went downwards. A trail of fire on her skin. "We get whatever we want whenever we want. So tell me, Y/N, what do you want?"

When his finger finally reached her clit and he put pressure on it, she bit her lip so hard she almost drew blood.

"I want you to fuck me so hard I forget my own name," she challenged, raising an eyebrow at him.

Daemon appeared to study her briefly before removing his hand from between them.

"Very well then," he said.

Less than a second later, Y/N found herself being lifted out of the water by Daemon, who held her by her waist as if she weighed less than a feather. The sudden cold air on her exposed skin made her shiver, but he didn't seem to care at all as he stood up with her as well. He grabbed her chin and tilted it up to make her look at him for a split second, and once he seemed satisfied, he forcefully turned her around and pushed her down until her breasts and stomach made contact with the wet floor that surrounded the bath.

"What are you..." she complained, but he didn't say a word as his hands gripped her hips, lifting her ass up in the air. She tried to hold herself up with her hands, but the moment his cock slid inside her, stretching her pussy so hard and fast she felt she was on fire, she let her body melt into the floor and rested her cheek there as well. "Fuck..."

He didn't wait for her to get used to his cock, instead pulling out and entering her again, slamming his hips against hers with a rapid pace. She shuddered as her breasts were pushed harder against the cold floor every time he sank himself into her, feeling time slowing down. Before she knew it she was arching into him, meeting his thrusts as the smell of sweat and wet noises filled the room. She could hear his labored breathing matching her own as he continued to bury his cock deep inside her over and over again.

"Uncle..." she breathed out, feeling herself losing control of her body.

She knew she was forgetting something important, but the moment one of his hands snaked between them and rubbed her clit, her mind became empty. All she could do was squirm with need, biting her lip to try and contain the sinful moans that only got louder and louder. Daemon grunted behind her as he increased his rhythm, sliding into her wet pussy with ease, admiring the sight of his she-dragon reduced to a whining mess under him.

"Come," he ordered, his fingers putting more pressure on her sweet spot.

She heard him despite her heart pounding in her ears, and her body obeyed him, her mind going blank as she shuddered uncontrollably, waves of fire washing over her as her pussy spasmed around his cock for what felt like forever. Daemon lost control when she squeezed his cock, crying out his name over and over again. He managed to bury himself inside her a few more times until his mind exploded and he let go, his cock pulsating as he filled her with his cum.

It took them a few minutes to recover their senses, and Daemon was first, using the strength he had left to lift her limp body from the floor and turn them both around, sitting her on his lap inside the bath, the warm water covering their bodies and soothing their aching muscles.

Y/N rested her head on Daemon's shoulder, trying to recover her breath as he grabbed a washcloth and started to softly massage her back with it. He lifted her head up by her chin to gently clean her face, followed by her neck and breasts.

"You came inside me," she whispered.

"I will clean it up," he answered simply, his touch tender as he reached her stomach.

"We weren't supposed to do it," she snapped, furrowing her brows as she looked him in the eye. "I was going to tell you, but in the heat of the moment... oh, fuck..."

"You worry too much," he said, cleaning the mess he had made as gently as he could, knowing she would still be sensitive in that area. "I'll have the maester send you moon tea tomorrow."

She nodded, stretching her arm to grab another washcloth and starting on Daemon's chest, feeling his muscles relax under her touch.

"Would it be so terrible?" he asked after he was done with her, leaving the washcloth and wrapping his arms around her. She lifted her gaze, her eyes clearly questioning what he meant. "Carrying my child. Is it so dreadful?"

"You are my uncle," she answered, rubbing the washcloth on his arm. "I can't carry your children, Daemon."

"What happened to "we are dragons, we get whatever we want"...?" he said, reminding her of her earlier words. "I am growing tired of hiding, Y/N. Nobody has the right to question us. We are Targaryens. We make the rules."

"I will not have your bastards."

"Wed me, then," he responded. "We'll have legitimate children that will carry on our legacy. The blood of the dragon."

She stopped what she was doing to look at him, wondering if he was drunk, daydreaming, or joking. But she knew him too well. He was dead serious.

"You'd be willing to risk everything on a whim? You never wanted children."

"I want them with you."

Y/N sighed and returned her focus to cleaning him up, deciding not to answer. Daemon was an impulsive man. She was sure he would come to his senses come morning and forget all about marrying her and having children.

Now all she wanted was to lie in bed, curled up beside him, and enjoy his company for as long as their duties allowed. She knew Daemon wanted it too.

----------------------------------------

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Have a nice day!

[kelsosefuealaguerra]

so, i have thoughts about how the writers have been addressing whatevers going on with roman + sex, and the hints theyve dropped during the whole show. (TW for sexual abuse / harassment, incest mention?)

lets look at succession as a whole so far regarding romans sexuality. The things we know are: 1) He only got into relationships with women he thought his dad would date. 2) Based on his conversation with Tabitha when they were trying to have sex, he seems to only be able to get off if he can pretend theres something "wrong" about it. 3) At this point, i think we can say his bisexuality is canon, based on his little thing with his personal trainer. Which is intriguing because if he really jerked roman off after sessions, that sounds like, the most intimate hes ever been with someone during the course of the show? And the fact that its a guy maybe enhances the Wrong aspect that he likes- i mean, remember gerris dirty talk in season 2: "what would your family think? theyd be ashamed of you. and rightly so". id say maybe dudes are easier for him because of the inherent feeling of "wrongness" his internal homophobia brings out.

And yeah, the whole thing with gerri has an air of wrongness too, because of the whole ~humiliation sex talk roleplay she did obviously, and because he knew his dad would be against it. which probably makes roman be even more into her- besides the fact that shes smoking hot, of course, but tabs is also hot as fuck and he still couldnt get into her (Ha), so we know hotness alone doesnt do the trick for him.

Then theres the incest/sexual abuse jokes, which... theres a lot to unpack there. the whole bit about him getting assaulted by connor as a child. "im touched" / "me too". what he said to rhea in dundee ("look at you, fitting right in, like a camp counselor in my butt when I was 12"??? terrible). Roman clearly doesnt know why he cant have sex, and theres the theory going around that its related to some kind of trauma like that in his past. (Last ep when shiv got mad at him for the gross sexy secretary joke and asked what was wrong with him, he said 'i dont know. were working on it, its an ongoing process', and we also know hes doing therapy 'my guy's surprised i got through at all'). so if it is sexual abuse, he probably buried it so deep inside his mind he cant actually remember, and it comes out occasionally with disturbing humor.

then theres that one time in 2x09 when he asked logan if he had someone to talk to and logan said smt like, "you want me to talk to a shrink? you know, you may want to screw your mother, but I am okay in that department, thank you". that scene is really important because like, correct me if im wrong, but i think that was one of the first times someone in his family talked openly about his issues. And it was just to make fun of them, and of roman for needing & going to therapy. Roman was really upset about it, kinda seemed like he thought there was a line in the things they taunted each other about and logan really went there anyway.

...which leads us to S3. Weve seen the family press the matter about roman and sex this season in ways that they never really did before, which was maybe one of the things that triggered the boiling point of his dysfunction: him being so careless about it he goes against gerris boundaries, possibly ruining the most healthy relationship he has right now with a person he clearly has feelings for. and in turn, becomes his fall from grace.

Ep 1, logan getting mad at roman for worrying about him and asking him if he wants to suck his dick. romans clearly not okay with it, even though a couple of scenes later he mimicks a blowjob when gerri was talking on the phone about the president respecting logan. thats basically how it worked this season: he got upset when sex shit was brought up, then he shrugged it off with innapropiate jokes. Cause we have Ep 2, where shiv tells him "you cant hide under the covers with mommy", and "someday youre actually going to have to fuck something". which bothered roman so much he had to leave the room. to my knowledge, thats the first time his siblings mentioned his issues with sex so directly. "that was low." "its not my fault he has a sex thing, that was an overreaction. was i too harsh?" "are you kidding? he loves it. hell be jerking off wearing my ex wifes panties." it was shocking to learn they know about it because, how?? rumours going around? tabitha explicitly outing roman as her eunuch bestie??? idk, but it surprised roman too and that was the moment where that boundary of his sex life being a secret from his family was completely broken, imo. for the audience and also, for himself, probably.

then there was the football team finger-bang joke, logan calling him the F slur, shivs comment about him wanting to blow logan and fuck his mom, asking about his intimacy with tabitha, kendall telling him he could take the giant replica of carolines vagina home with him SKDHSKD The curious thing though is that he went from being upset and storming out, to learning how to own the jokes and even going along with them until they got to be Too much. like. To me, the worst one so far was definitely this interaction:

and then he mimicked blowing logan... christ bro. like, how did we go from his normal response to logans innapropriate comment to him in episode one to THAT. its like season 3 was a journey of roman being desensitized about his issues because theyre joked about in every episode and not really a secret anymore, and hes kind of been going off the rails because of it. He cant tell where the lines are, doesnt undestand when hes going too far. That, coupled with his dad almost dying in episode 4, was probably what caused his undoing this season. Going hardcore with everything logan wants, allowing himself to be manipulated into severing his connection with kendall and shiv because of him. its insane bro. hes definitely losing his sense of reality a little bit ("youre not real. youre not a real person" / "no real person involved" cross my mind every now and then).

i dont know, i just thought it was important, how it all came down to last episode, where logan, shiv and gerri finally confronted him in all seriousness about his problem (though logan did it for the wrong reasons, as he usually does). Which is huge, because there were no jokes this time from shiv and logans part. and gerri had talked about him "being a sick fuck" and "having a revolting problem in his head" as dirty talk before, but there wasnt anything ~sexy about the way she called him out in italy. in all three cases, roman couldnt hide behind his usual humor or flirting, so all thats left is to come to terms with it. Even though he still has a hard time figuring out what his problem is, so... will he get better or worse? im not sure- i just think losing gerri could be his breaking point.

its really interesting to me that the writers took it there, and i wanna see where theyre gonna go with it. if its ever gonna get properly addressed, or if theyll never really explain what happened to him. knowing this show, anything could happen, tbh.

[bontenten]

Bewitch

Pairings: Osamu x F!Reader x Atsumu; Miyacest WC: 7.4k Genre/Warnings: smut, fairytale retelling (Hansel and Gretel), magic au, dubcon/noncon, incest (miyacest), fear, knife, monster, bondage, snuff, vore, gore/blood, object insertion, body horror, a bit of size, tummy bulge, oral (m.receiving), anal (m. receiving), masturbation (f. & m.), voyeurism, arson...

Summary: The unexpected guests at your cottage have a mysterious past and hidden agenda. Will they allow you to accompany them on their journey?

Travelers are advised not to spend the night in the Dark Woods. It's said that beyond the last hiking trail, past a brook, lives an Evil Witch. That witch is vile and merciless; often, fools lost in the woods are never seen again. It's said that she must be over 800 years old, feeding off of the essences of children and young men unfortunate enough to cross her paths. It’s said that she even eats fellow witches. No one really knows. After all, no one who has seen her has lived to tell the tale.

It's been a few months since your teacher has left you to fend for yourself here in the woods—your first time alone during this apprenticeship. She said she had to attend a big conference with a whole bunch of other grand witches. You asked if you could tag along, but she insisted that you stay and watch the cottage. The lack of company is about to drive you insane so you often resort to conversing with yourself or the forest itself.

The soft moss muffles the sound of your footsteps as you begin the trek back home, a faint off-trail path away from the main road that no one else would usually notice. On any other day, you would just go home without a fuss, but loneliness makes people do some bizarre and odd things. For instance, the desperate longing for companionship leads to you dropping a not-so-hidden trail of fancy pebbles to inadvertently lead someone to your abode.

For most travelers, going off-trail is akin to a death sentence as any wrong turn might lure them into the forest's deadly maze. Not for you though, you know this place very well: every fallen tree, overturned log, the wanted signs nailed to the trunk...

Wait. A wanted sign?

You can make out from your distance that there are two heads on it, but the details are fuzzy, and the bounty looks smudged. Before you can get a closer look, you hear the birds caw in the trees, signaling the beginning of sunset. You pull your attention away from the poster and continue on to your way home.

The cottage is extremely cozy and warm. The windows are bejeweled and the door is solid wood. You live here comfortably with your teacher, after all, learning about the principles of magic and what it means to be a witch. It's much more than curses and spells, as your teacher would tell you, witches have character and a moral compass. Although there are certainly those who decide to experiment with the darker arts.

While you get a fire going in the huge furnace and boil some water on the stovetop, you hear two voices squabbling outside followed by three raps on the door. You're stunned by the noise, turning to face the shut door wondering if you were just dreaming about the noise. Is it? Visitors? No, you must have heard wrong.

"'Samu, I bet it's a farce, let's not." The voice sounds both tired and weary, almost out of breath.

"Let me just try again, I can smell a working kitchen in there, someone is definitely there," another voice insists. Three more knocking sounds. "Excuse me! Is the owner of the house available? My brother and I followed a path of colored stone and came upon your establishment...could you spare us some water? A bite of food?"

Two men, though they sound friendly. You're frozen in the kitchen, staring at the door that remains between you and the strangers.

"Is there someone home?" The second voice tries again. "Please, my brother is not feeling very well."

Your initial wariness for the stranger melts when you hear about the brother, which does not sound like a lie based on the raspy voice you first hear. A witch's character is fundamentally kind to all sentient beings, especially those in need. But you're still nervous, so you end up grabbing a metal ladle before carefully going to open the door. When you crack the door open, you see a pair of twins. Beautiful men, one blonde and one grey-haired. The former, with a quirky grin, although his eyes certainly look lackluster. But the other seems like he's at the right place, eyes peering past you into your home, fixated on your kitchen.

"I'm Osamu. And this," he gestures to his twin, "is my brother Atsumu. We're a bit lost, you see."

You nod your head in a casual greeting and introduce yourself as the resident apprentice at this cottage. As a good host should, you open the door to the weary guests preparing to welcome them in.

"Are we welcomed in?" Osamu asks, not moving from his spot. Atsumu isn’t budging either, arms crossed and only looking at you from the corner of his eye, waiting for your answer.

Without giving much thought you nod and open the door wider. "Both of you are most welcomed in."

"Then we thank you for your hospitality," Osamu says, taking a step inside, dragging his twin with him.

Words, especially spoken words carry power and hold intent. And a witch's words, no matter how careless they slip out, contain magic. Welcome, as you say. So welcome, they are.

You shut the door behind them and prepare to go give your first-ever guests some water. When you turn around, you notice Osamu already in the kitchen, the sleeves of his tunic rolled up past his elbows.

"Your food is about to burn. Heat's too high," he tells you, expertly taking control of the sizzling pots and pans. "I got it, don't worry."

Feeling flustered at the faint smell of scorching food, you hurry over to see if you can be of any assistance. "Let me help out."

"No, it's quite alright."

How can a host let her guests do all the work like that? And the first company in a while too! What an utter failure.

"How—" you try to argue back, but you're cut off by Atsumu tugging on your wrist, dragging you over to the sofa in the corner.

"Don't worry about him, he loves to cook." Atsumu brushes out the wisps of his bangs with a huff. "And actually quite good at it. Anything that goes through his hands...well, in short, all become part of his design."

Like his twin, Atsumu's frame is broad and huge, but there is a quality of emptiness of sorts. Osamu's shoulders are wide but there's more substance to it, whereas Atsumu's form seems contained. You can't help but use your learnings to see if you can figure out just what's off about Atsumu. He's slowly walking around the living room and studying the portraits hanging on the wall. He picks up a frame that is set above the fireplace and comments, "None of these are you. How come?"

"Oh, they're my teacher. I'm just a witch-in-training at the moment, so—"

"A witch?" Atsumu questions, clenching the frame tightly. His hands begin to shake, the glass under his thumb beginning to crack.

You did not expect Atsumu to display such a visceral reaction upon the mention of witches. After all, witches normally stayed far away from ordinary human society and when they do mix, it's often a role of healing. But the look that sparks in Atsumu's eyes, it's almost—feral.

"'Tsumu!" Osamu yells while stalking over quickly from the kitchen. He throws his arm around Atsumu's neck and drags him off into the shadows. You can't make out the muffled voices and deep growling noises that are coming from down the hall.

It's their private matter, so you go back to the kitchen. True enough, Osamu's hands are almost like magic. The bubbling pot of broth doesn't seem to be on the verge of overflowing, the onions caramelizing beautifully, filling the air with deliciousness.

Moments later, the twins come back. You notice that Osamu clothes are wrinkled from tugging Atsumu around, but at the very least, Atsumu is looking much better than before.

The three of you set the table for dinner. Osamu brings out the plates as though he knows the kitchen inside and out already. Atsumu comes emerging from the cellar with two bottles of fine wine that you didn't even know your teacher had stowed away. Surely, she wouldn't mind? With Osamu and Atsumu sitting to the left and right of you at the round table, it almost feels like a more familiar, cozier gathering between friends than a situation of a host and her guests.

They tell you that they have been traveling across the lands for a long time now, looking for a cure for Atsumu's illness. It reminds you of the hollow, repressed form you saw earlier and your curiosity gets the better of you. They don't tell you the nature of the malady, but what they do share is that they are looking for a witch to undo the curse on Atsumu, a result of dark witchcraft.

"I am a witch!" you exclaim, feeling your call to action at the moment. "Please, is there truly nothing for me to help to undo the spell?"

Osamu leans in close to you, and wipes a bit of sauce staining the corner of your lips with the pad of his thumb. He smiles. "We're looking for a very high-level witch. One day, maybe you'll get to the level of magic needed."

"You're too weak," Atsumu bluntly points out. You're sure Osamu means to say the same thing, but Atsumu's words are really sharp.

"I know," you sigh. "My teacher tells me that all the time. So, I'm really trying. I'm sure there's at least something I can do."

"I definitely think that. Don't be so hard on yourself," Osamu comforts. "Have you been living alone here for a long time?"

You feel two pairs of eyes glued onto you waiting for your answer. You smile reflexively before your eyes trail to the empty plate and carefully choose your words. "Yea. Just me and my teacher. She's a grand witch...maybe if you wait here for a few days, you can meet her when she comes back from her conference."

"We—"

"We'll be gone tomorrow!" Atsumu snaps, staring into Osamu's eyes.

Osamu doesn't pay any mind to Atsumu, and puts an extra piece of dessert onto your plate.

"We have a long way to go. Atsumu's condition isn't getting better, so we can't stop in one place for long."

It makes you a little sad, because you were hoping to spend some more time with the twins, both of whom you have grown fond of. Osamu and his gentleness. And even Atsumu, despite his quick remarks and outbursts, adds a particular spice to your mundane life.

"Maybe we'll bring you with us," Osamu comments lightly, "'Tsumu, wouldn't that be nice?"

"She'll just be dead weight," Atsumu retorts. You wonder if he absolutely hates you. Is that why he is always so against you being next to Osamu?

Osamu puts an arm around you and blows on the shell of your ear. It tickles and you can feel his body enveloping you. "But she's so sweet," he tells Atsumu and whispers into your ear, "Aren't you?"

You find your wandering gaze looking into his half-lidded grey eyes. His face is right next to you, lips just hovering barely five centimeters away. The overwhelming presence of him is undeniably alluring. Your breaths become shallow as your heart rate speeds up with desire.

"I'm exhausted! 'Samu you too. We're going to bed!" Atsumu drops the silverware onto his plate and stands up. He comes around the table, muttering curses under his breath. Atsumu grabs Osamu by the wrist and drags him off towards the guest bedroom you have shown them before.

You didn't quite catch Atsumu's angry mutters, but you hear "slut" and "harlot" thrown around a few times. Were they directed at you? No, you're not like that, you tell yourself. Atsumu must have been thinking that you are trying to seduce his twin. After you clear out the table, you decide to clear up any misunderstanding.

You tip-toe down the hall to the guest bedroom prepared to knock when you hear muffled sounds coming from inside. You carefully press your ears to the crevice of the door and clamp a hand around your mouth upon hearing the stream of moans.

"'Samu, 'Samu please, ah—"

That's Atsumu? Your eyes are wide and still trying to process the shock of what you're hearing. You tell yourself you shouldn't be here. You should not be listening to whatever is happening behind the closed door, but you can't help it. Hearing Atsumu's moans makes you want to squirm.

You slightly jump when you hear a slap, followed with a pleasured groan. The sound is so clean it feels as though the phantom hands are touching your own heated skin.

Osamu's chuckle nearly makes your knees weak.

"Don't get cocky, if it were any other day ngh—, any other day, I would be the one pushing you into the mattress."

Slap. "Shut up, cute 'Tsumu. I like you being so needy for me like this. What do you want from me? Tell me."

"Fuck me, 'Samu."

"With pleasure."

The wood creaks loudly and you tell yourself, you really need to get out as you back away and try to quickly walk down the hall back to your bedroom.

You throw the door open and lock the door behind you with a click. With your eyes closed, you try to steady your breath and the building heat in your core. It's quiet. There's no noise coming from their room. But they are twins! 

You remind yourself that a witch is all-accepting and kind. There are so many circumstances beyond your understanding, judgement is not a part of your nature. And if what they are performing is wrong, what should you say about yourself? You peel off your clothes and step out of the soaked panty that is proof of your lust.

Pillows are fluffed and covers are pulled over your body. You try to sleep, but each time you are about to drift, Atsumu's cries of pleasure come back into your head. Your hand trails down your navel until the fingertips trace over your clit. Gathering some slick from your cunt, you drag it across the sensitive bud.

You shudder from the touch as images, constructed in your fantasy, cloud your mind. You imagine Atsumu's hands spreading your legs apart and Osamu's teasing words next to your ear. He would tell you to open wide and shove his cock down your throat. You suck on three of your fingers until lips wrap over the knuckles, your saliva pooling from hunger. And slip your fingers into your cunt easily, curling them against the plush walls.

"F-fuck me," you moan into your pillow.

With pleasure.

You quiver, clit pulsating, and your pussy juice dripping into your palm. The wash from the high soon takes you into sleep. All throughout the night, you squirm and feel the phantom sensation of being watched. Not just observed, but studied, by two pairs of glinting hungry eyes. You can almost imagine them on either side of the bed, trapping you into the mattress no matter which way you turn.

A few times the weird feelings almost pull you awake, but you don't dare crack an eye open to confirm your suspicions until the morning light begins to filter through the windows, rousing you from sleep. The air is filled with fragrant herbs and the sizzle of delicious brunch from someone awake before you.

No doubt, it's Osamu, because who else can it be? Atsumu? Please. The twins....

You climb out of bed and stretch your neck on the way to the washroom. Your bedroom door is open, but it's too early to notice that detail.

"Morning!" Osamu greets you from the kitchen. You find a fresh mug of coffee shoved into your hands from him.

You mumble thanks and sip at the brew while watching Osamu fry the eggs. Osamu looks to be deep in thought, probably thinking about something pleasant from the faint smile ghosting on his face. You feel a pang of guilt from both listening to their private lives, and also the strange feelings that maybe they heard your private life too—it's all your paranoia talking.

"You're so talented," you blurt out, fisting the fabric of your long skirt.

"Thanks, but better not let 'Tsumu hear ya, he gets jealous super easily."

Even if Atsumu hears, it's fine. You really mean both of them. Both of the twins both seem super talented as a duo; like they've been out there and seen the world. Meanwhile, you're still stuck here, without company. Would it be possible...if they simply stayed?

Osamu senses the words that are stuck in your mouth and answers them for you. "We're gonna be leaving right after breakfast. There's still lots of ground to cover today," he explains, plating the pancake before preparing to ladle a spoonful of batter for the next one.

"Do you have to leave?" you ask, almost pleading.

"It's cozy here and comfortable. We enjoy your company too, but we have to go. Your teacher would hate us, immensely, and on top of that...let's just say, we're always on the run."

"You say it like you two are fugitives or something."

Osamu chuckles and leans closer to you, hot breath flaming your cheeks, or maybe it's just the heat from the stove. A teasing grin pulls his cheeks up slightly as your eyes flicker over to see his lips spell out, "Maybe. Scared?"

Embarrassed, you take a defensive step back, squeaking and bumping into another body.

"MORNING!" Atsumu announces behind you. He's in good spirits and he has his hands on your waist to steady you; he sniffs your hair and smiles before letting you go. "I smell something delicious."

"Breakfast is ready," Osamu says, plating the pancakes. "Hungry 'Tsumu?"

"Tch." Atsumu shoves past you and knees Osamu, mood doing a complete 180. You're almost left like a fly on the wall as you watch the scene unfold.

Osamu is quick to catch his balance while keeping watch on the stove. "Not awake yet?" Osamu grins and passes him a plate of pancakes, essentially telling him to shut up and eat. "Who shoved a stick up your ass? Go eat."

"Fuck you."

"Hm."

Atsumu grumbles but digs into his food anyway. Osamu catches your amused expression in the corner and explains, "It's always like that between us. It's our...way of showing how much we care."

"I know." It's sort of endearing, the banter between the two brothers. Even if the world turns against them, no matter what the odds are, at least Miya Osamu will have Miya Atsumu, and Atsumu will have Osamu. Perhaps it's exactly that sort of bond the two share that you're envious of. Body and soul. Because if only you could have just an ounce of that sort of familiarity with another. But you're just an outsider without an invitation to join in.

While you're mulling over your thoughts, you don't catch the darkening gazes being exchanged between the twins. At some point, Atsmu's plate is already emptied and the wooden table is cleared while you're still lost in your mind. Osamu is fiddling with the metal tea strainer, bobbing it up and down to brew a mug of tea. He threads a cotton string in and out like it's a plaything.

"Do you really want to be with us?" Osamu asks nonchalantly. "'Tsumu and I were talking about it. If you do, maybe we can work something out."

"I just..." You feel like this is your final chance to tell them that you don't want them to go. None of the going around circle hinting that you have been doing. This is the moment to just tell it to them. If you miss this chance, you feel like you won't have another. And even though a pit pulls at your inwards telling you to reconsider, you're brave. "I just want to be together with you all, and help you cure Atsumu. My teacher is so talented, I'm sure she'll have a remedy."

They grin.

Osamu is a great cook, he can do that. Atsumu sometimes seems lazy, but he's super strong and quick to help too. And you can pick up all sorts of other tasks in the area! Maybe because they're so helpful, your teacher will even let them stay once Atsumu is cured. Maybe they can learn magic too! You have heard of warlocks who are powerful with spells too. And you can already imagine, the three of you, like a team, eventually going out into the world to fight demons and monsters and—

"Open wide," a sultry voice sounds next to you. Backing away automatically, you find Atsumu standing right behind you.

"W-wait," your voice shakes, stuck in your throat. "What are—"

His fingers reach for your mouth, prying it open. Before you can voice your distaste, a warm, metal ball gets shoved into your mouth, the thin chain quickly tangles into your hair. The faint traces of tea seep out of its small holes down your tongue and throat, while some spill out the corner of your mouth like trails of drool down your jawline.

Osamu smiles and wipes the liquid away with his thumb, relishing in how your widening eyes gape at him in confusion.

"Being together," he answers the question you wanted to ask, "is what you want isn't it?" He takes a spool of kitchen twine and begins to secure the tea strainer in your mouth. The thin cotton threads wrap around your head over and over again, tightening the steel against your tongue.

You shake your head and try to take another step away from the man you're beginning to become wary of, but the strong grip of Atsumu's hands on your shoulder prevents you from squirming at all. His fingers dig into your flesh, and when you turn to look at him you catch a glint in his eyes, glowering down at you.

"No, no, no, behave," he taunts you, "listen to 'Samu. He'll make you feel real good, trust me."

With the gag in your mouth, all you can let out are weak, warbling gargles from the back of your throat. Why are you doing this? You weren't like this before? Loud snorts flare out your nostrils from the fear screaming through your body.

Osamu comes back with a paring knife, examining the edge under the sunlight filtering in through the stained glass. He presses the cool blade along your cheek, dragging with the dull edge just enough so the sharp end doesn't cut your skin. You feel your knees growing weak and if not for Atsumu's hold on you, you would sink into a shuddering heap on the floor.

"You know, I think you might be the best meal yet," Osamu compliments, blade trailing down to your collarbone. The tip of the knife toys with the first button, pressing tension on the x-cross stitching. Snap. The first button pops off, dropping onto the wooden floor and rolling away to an inconspicuous corner. "I'll prep you well."

Snap. Snap. Snap. Snap. The knife flicks again and all the buttons clatter on the floor before running away for refuge.

Atsumu has cleared the table already and you find yourself hoisted up and laid onto the surface like a slab of meat on a cutting board. The cold surface presses against the back of your shoulder and ass. Osamu ties your wrist together with a hemp rope and secures the other end around the table leg. He also secures your ankles to two other anchor points.

You're utterly exposed and ashamed at your body's display, mortified at how your body is reacting when you catch sight of Atsumu, his eyes dilated, looking at your slit that you know is drenched already. The rough texture of the rope presses painfully into your skin from how tight the bindings are. You can only let out gagged whines in complaint, chest rising up and down from the loud breaths.

"Can't do, love," Osamu chides, kissing the knot at your wrist, satisfied with the results. His fingertips trail down to cup your jaw and his thumb runs across the tea strainer. You close your eyes and groan at his touch. Osamu murmurs, "I won't let anything go to waste."

Atsumu is growing impatient at the sight of his twin treating you like the finest specimen ever. You're not the first one. You won't be the last one, but he still can't stand the sight of someone looking just like himself having first tastes while he's missing out himself. He wants to shove Osamu aside, but he knows that Osamu absolutely hates it when he ravages the meal when it's not ready.

Atsumu unzips his pants and lets his hardened, leaking cock spring free. You stare at Atsumu who is fixated on his own pleasure. His hand wraps around his cock and pumps the length up and down.

Osamu turns your head to look at himself instead. "Someone there is impatient, but let's not learn from him, okay? I want to take you slow, make sure you'll be ready. I don't want you stressed, you release too much cortisol and that toughens the meat."

Anything that goes through his hands...well, in short, all become part of his design.

His hand kneads your breast and toys with your nipple, circling and tugging on the tiny, erect bud.

"Relax," he whispers into your ear. "Just like you did last night."

You try to clamp your thighs shut from reflex. Immediately the resistance from the rope ties stop your movements. Osamu squeezes your thighs and pushes them apart once more.

"Right here isn't it, after hearing me fuck 'Tsumu..." Osamu's finger runs down the sides of your labia. "You just couldn't help touching yourself too huh?"

He knows. They know. You feel your cheeks burn at the realization.

"There's nothing embarrassing about it. If anyone should be, it should be us twins, " Osamu's fingers easily slip in, your pussy already dripping with arousal. "Oh woops, I shouldn't need to comfort you. You're clearly not shy."

Osamu's fingers are thick and long, able to reach far deeper than you ever can. Your tongue is still struggling against the gag while your saliva steeps the tea leaves trapped in the ball.

"Oi," Atsumu cuts in with annoyance. "I thought you said to not play with food. What the fuck are you doing, chef?"

Osamu stops his finger in you for a moment before dragging them out. You're trembling at the sudden emptiness and desire to fill the space immediately. The lack of stimulation is irritating and you are desperate.

Osamu walks up to Atsumu, bringing his drenched fingers covered in your slick to his lips for a taste. Before he can do so, Atsumu grabs Osamu's wrist and takes in those digits, sucking on them gingerly.

Osamu smiles and runs the other hand through Atsumu's hair.

"Patience is a virtue, 'Tsumu, I was just getting her fully prepared for you. I'm giving her all to you already, you couldn't even let me have a taste of her?"

Atsumu releases Osamu's fingers with a pop. "I never said I wasn't going to share," he mutters before pulling Osamu in for a kiss, passing the taste of you along their tongues.

Your body jostles as you finally get a visual matching what you heard last night. You feel your pussy leaking with more excitement, the arousal drips all the way down to your asshole. And the more you squirm, it's as though the rope ties become tighter and tighter, rubbing your skin raw. But even that pain is incomparable to the need to quell your fire.

Atsumu pulls away and presses one last kiss on Osamu's nose. "I always love what you serve, thank you 'Samu." Your heart rate rapidly speeds up as Atsumu comes towards you. He's positioned between your legs, both hands on your thighs, marveling at the display of your body. His hands feel hot.

Atsumu grins. "You probably didn't expect me to be the one taking you, huh?" He guides his cock to your entrance, the bulging tip prodding along your puffy lips. "Did you want Osamu to be the one fucking you?"

No? You want to argue, straining your head up slightly, but only tea-laced saliva drips out from the corners of your mouth.

"'Fuck me, 'Samu. Fuck me, please.' Is that what you heard? Is that what you wanted to say too?"

Your screams are muffled whimpers.

Osamu snorts off to the side, watching Atsumu do exactly what he accused Osamu earlier of: playing with his food. Hypocrite.

Atsumu glares at Osamu before turning his attention back to you. "You'll be begging for me, Atsumu, after I'm done with you."

He lines himself at your entrance and inches himself in, groaning at how your cunt is somehow just sucking him in. You're so warm and tight inside, wrapping perfectly around every part of him. He sits in you for a moment, just enjoying being blanketed by your muscles and chuckling how you tighten around him every now and then.

You whine, urging Atsumu to move a little.

"Okay, okay. Geez, and 'Samu says I'm impatient." Atsumu slowly draws his cock out and snaps his hips forward, the base of his balls slapping against your ass. He delights at how you squeeze your eyes shut and continues rocking into you at a comfortable pace.

Osamu enjoys standing off to the side for a while. He always liked watching Atsumu savor and delight the food he prepares. Atsumu always eats with such gusto. It should have always been that way, until the witch ruined everything. The curse, an experiment with the dark arts, should have never happened. Above all else, it should never have been on Atsumu. Osamu can only wonder if the reason they are subjected to this fate is because they are twins. Until a cure is found, Atsumu, his most beloved other, will have to replenish himself in this way.

A sharp pain rips through you and tears well up in your eyes. You feel Atsumu's cock suddenly begin to pulsate and grow in size. At first, you thought it was because you're clamping down on him too hard and will yourself to relax. But the cock, the thing, is certainly unnatural now. And between your tear-stained vision, you can just barely make out... Monster.

You begin to thrash wildly, head tossing side to side, back arched as much as you can in a futile escape attempt. Atsumu's claws rest on your hips while he pounds into you furiously. His groans, now deep growls, send vibrations that you can feel within your throbbing clit. You fear that you'll actually be ripped in half by the way Atsumu is thrusting into you. The engorged cockhead hits your cervix each time and his ball sack, even heavier, bowls and knocks against you.

Osamu unfolds his arms and comes over.

"It'll only hurt if you don't relax," he tells you, reaching out to press on your clit. "Just let him have his way."

"Go fuck her somewhere else," Atsumu snarls. His voice is warped and bellowing. Your mind is getting foggy as Osamu's fingers on your clit don't stop teasing the bud while having a petty talk with Atsumu. And Atsumu, ticked off by Osamu, picks up his speed.

"There we go, now that's beautiful," Osamu comments, taking his hand away and watching you unfurl in your pleasure. Your abused cunt is puffy when Atsumu pulls out, and you feel the thick liquid start to flow out when you take breaths.

"No, don't do that," Osamu chides, taking three fingers to gather the cum spilling out and stuffing it back in. "Better keep it all in. 'Tsumu isn't done with you yet."

Not yet? You can't even voice your thoughts except weakly shaking your head and moaning into the steel gag. In the moment, your stomach rumbles loudly.

"'Samu, she's hungry," Atsumu points out, rubbing your tummy. "You feed her and I'll stuff her."

Osamu ruffles Atsumu's long hair and gives his new, erected horns a teasing squeeze. Atsumu yelps at the touch. "'Samu!"

"Okay, okay," Osamu relents and stands next to your head. You see him take the paring knife again and slide the icy blade between the cotton ties and your hot cheek. A quick slice and you feel the pressure of the gag release. Osamu removes the tea strainer from your mouth and tosses it into the sink.

"Must have been so over-brewed, I apologize for that," he says. You know he doesn't mean it at all.

"Why?" you croak out. Your jaw and cheeks are sore from being held in position for so long. There's so many things you believe you can ask why about. Why they are prepping you like a meal, fucking you like a toy...Why Atsumu is the way he is. Why Osamu is not who you think he is either. Why you.

Despite Atsumu's grotesque figure, you're sure that you fear this twin more. Osamu's thoughts are so well-hidden behind his eyes; he never gives away what he's thinking or planning. You can only accept his decisions from the receiving end.

"Because of Atsumu," Osamu answers. Everything is for 'Tsumu. "I'll feed you."

Osamu cradles your head with both hands, his fingers tangled in your hair. He prods his cock against your lips. Feeling your resistance, he grips your hair tightly, painfully pulling on your scalp, and presses the tip of his cock to force your lips open. You nearly gag at the length entering your throat and your hands ball into tight fists. Your nose is buried in the base of his cock, pressing into his balls. Each breath you take is heavy with his musky, hot scent.

It's easy to focus on Osamu's cock fucking into your throat, leaving an unamused, monstrous twin off to the side preparing to turn your attention back to him by force.

Atsumu rubs himself against you, preparing to enter you again. You're sure that he has become even bigger. When the tip pushes through, your body attempts to fight the intrusion in self-preservation. The claws at your hips dig in and Atsumu all but pulls you onto his length like a sock. You scream around Osamu's cock, throat clenching around his thick length, and nearly black out from the stretch.

You never had anything this big in you before. Atsumu lifts you up slightly, his grasp becoming large enough to encircle around your whole waist. Your ankles are still tethered and tug on you, much to Atsumu's annoyance. He easily slices through the bondages with a sharp claw. Now free of restraints, Atsumu can cradle you more easily, finally pushing the last section into you. 

Crack!

You can’t cry while you're stuffed with Osamu’s cock, but tears stream endlessly from your eyes. You’re sure your pelvic floor is broken, completely forced apart in a futile attempt to accommodate Atsumu stuffing you beyond your physical capacity. Your hips give out as your two legs, bone out from their sockets, dangle grotesquely.

“Just focus on me,” Osamu wipes your tears away and continues to pump into you. But you cannot focus on the human object in your mouth when your whole lower half and inwards are broken, stretched or squashed.

"Hey look ‘Samu! It's bulging," Atsumu marvels at the imprint of his tip pushing your flesh out from the inside. “Look, my cock is saying ‘hello’.”

Atsumu excitement translates into messy thrusts, treating your body like a game. “Maybe I can even touch your dick through her!” 

Your whole body is numb, the brain shuts its pain signals off completely, and hormones pour through your bloodstream in overdrive. The broken climax spasms through your body like the last bits of a faltering system.

“Better hurry...she’s...she’s fading soon,” Osamu warns between his grunts. He clasps your head and spurts his seed into you. You mindlessly swallow every drop of him, letting the contents slowly flow down your throat. You can’t process anything nor recognize any of the murky images. Who are you? Where are you?

Your memory fades in and out as your eyesight drifts between black and white. You can’t do anything about how the monster is now on all fours over your body, unrecognizable as Atsumu. You don’t feel any fear towards this grotesque figure. You don’t register how his tongue licks your neck.

Your mouth is now empty but you can’t formulate syllables.

“I’m sorry,” you hear Osamu whisper before sharp fangs pierce into your jugular, digging in deeper and tearing a chunk out. Red sprays across your body in fast spurts, drenching Atsumu and covering Osamu. The teeth at your throat gnaw at the flesh, starved, tearing through the skin, fat, and tissues like a child crunching fruit. 

You can feel the droplets falling onto your face like fresh rain after a storm. You vaguely remember your teacher and her warning of strangers. She always reprimanded you and you wanted to make her proud. There will no longer be any chance of that now. You weren’t a good student, and only an utter failure.

Osamu waits for Atsumu to finish you off. Atsumu always gets messy at this point. Osamu tried to help Atsumu section his prey off by cutting and organizing the limbs and even attempted to debone the meal beforehand, but Atsumu has his preferences, and Osamu respects them. So, Osamu delegates cleaning duties to himself instead. 

You’re already beyond recognition when Osamu comes back with barrels of oil. All that is left is a kitchen stained with blood and a pile of bone with chewed connective tissue left. Atsumu sometimes eats the bones too, but not always.

“‘Tsumu, are you full now?” Osamu asks, reaching out to cradle his twin. Atsumu has now transformed back to the way he is supposed to be. Osamu threads his hand through Atsumu’s blonde hair and inhales his twin’s scent.

Atsumu doesn’t respond and tugs at Osamu’s collar, trailing down his arm to bring Osamu’s hand to his own cock.

Osamu grins and kisses the top of Atsumu’s head. “Do you want to fuck me ‘Tsumu? I know you like to, after your meals.”

Atsumu whines and nips at Osamu’s jaw, pushing the twin down on the blood-stained floor.

“Okay, okay.” Osamu unzips and pulls down his pants before crawling onto all fours.

Atsumu’s hand cups Osamu’s ass and pries the cheeks open before curiously fingering at the specimen plugging Osamu’s hole. Atsumu holds onto the base and turns the object, before laughing.

“‘Samu, what is this you have in your ass,” Atsumu teases. “I like this presentation.”

This time, Osamu is the one embarrassed. “Last meal, it hurt like hell. So...I wanted to prepare a little.”

“With an egg holder?” Atsumu cackles again, fiddling with the ceramic object. “Should’ve just told me ‘Samu, I could never bear to hurt you.”

Atsumu holds onto the base and slowly pulls the object out before tossing it aside. He smiles and teases Osamu’s enlarged hole that’s opening and closing around nothing. Gathering up some saliva, he spits onto Osamu’s asshole before lining his cock at the rim and slowly pushing in.

Along with the curse comes a near insatiable lust. Atsumu knows that if he doesn’t fulfill his need to fuck or be fucked, he will snap. He doesn’t really care who he kills during a frenzy of that sort, but it’s too risky to get Osamu caught up in the collateral.

The witch that wanted to create the perfect weapon, failed. She failed because she underestimated the twins’ bonds for each other. She failed because the twins discovered that witches excrete a very special hormone in their body after climax, and it is exactly that substance that is slowly curing Atsumu. With every witch eaten and absorbed, Atsumu is healing and gaining magical powers. He is even capable of passing those essences to Osamu. One day, everything will be the way it's supposed to be.

Osamu plays with a few strands of Atsumu’s hair. Atsumu’s softened cock still buried inside of him. Atsumu has his jaw resting on Osamu’s shoulder.

“You make me feel so good,” Atsumu sighs, enjoying the quiet moments after his high.

“And what about her?” Osamu asks, gesturing to the table where your remains are still at.

“She made me feel good too. The best one yet, but don’t be jealous.”

“Come on, let’s clean up and get out of here.”

After washing their bodies and changing into clean clothes, Atsumu and Osamu are ready to say goodbye to the cottage they have overstayed their welcomes at.

"Let's go 'Samu, we're already behind." Atsumu finishes dumping the last bucket of oil along the edges of the room.

The clamor of boots stride across the creaking wood. As though with the passing of its owner, the cottage itself has lost the will to live.

"Coming," Osamu calls back, walking past the makeshift funeral pyre for you. He notices a flash on the ground and bends down to pick up a button.

"'Samu! Get the fuck out or I'll burn ya down too!"

"Yea, yea."

Osamu drops the button into his shirt pocket and joins his twin outside. Atsumu strikes a matchstick and tosses the small flame into the cottage. Fire meets oil and spreads in an instance, engulfing the cottage in an angry blend of orange and red, devouring all contents and remains within. The smell of scorched wood reaches the twins who are looking at the sight from a distance.

"She was good," Atsumu comments, looking at his twin unsure about what Osamu's grey eyes are thinking about. Atsumu realizes that he didn't specify what good exactly means. But it doesn't seem like Osamu is paying much attention. Is Osamu thinking about you? Is he unhappy? Does he regret what happened to you? Although what's done is done already, if time can go back, would Osamu choose? You or Atsumu?

Osamu slips his hand into Atsumu's, erasing the unspoken worries away. He gently leads Atsumu onto the trail, leaving the burning cottage behind.

"Stop thinking such nonsense," Osamu mutters, squeezing Atsumu's hand. No matter what happens, Atsumu will always come first. His needs, his desires. That's what it means for Osamu to love Atsumu. Even though the rest of the world may not understand the relationship the twins share, calling it depraved and disgusting, it's still selfless on their part. What sin is there to honestly love? What sin is there to try and save his loved ones?

While Osamu admits to himself that he does feel a deep attraction to you and knows that Atsumu feels the same pull as well, there's nothing that can be done about Atsumu's condition. But it's not as though you are completely gone. Your essences and core are within both twins, being absorbed as one with their bodies and soul. You'll forever be with them in that way, even if you no longer have any sentient memory of it.

Osamu fiddles the button in his pocket; there's still a physical reminder of you in that tiny form.

It must be about a twenty-minute trek from the burning site. Although the flames are already far from eyesight, the scorching smell and embers still drift over. The twins pick up their pace, eager to exit the forest before nightfall and make it to the next destination. On the way, they pass by the tree trunk with a wanted poster.

"They never get my best angles!" Atsumu complains, ripping a wanted poster that is nailed to the tree trunk.

"It's not like you have a good angle, ‘Tsumu."

"Shut it, we look the same ‘Samu. You're just calling yourself ugly too!"

Osamu shrugs and continues his trek down the main trail. Atsumu huffs, tearing the parchment into indistinguishable pieces before throwing the shreds up into the air like confetti.

"Wait up!"

Osamu stops in his tracks. "Hurry up, loser. We still have a long way to go."

Atsumu takes a few wide strides and swings his arm around his twin's shoulder. Behind them, a very light drizzle falls from the sky.

[dboliklover]

Breathless Whispers - Shu

My new series. Will take a while to complete (don’t mind the fact I am STILL working on the Easter Smut series). It’s based off an ask I got and is very sinful and I implore everyone who is triggered by the following to NOT INTERACT WITH THIS SERIES. The tags will vary from each entry but “Breathless Whispers” is a SAKAMAKI BROTHERS X STEPMOTHER! READER Smut series. As such Cheating/Adultery and pseudo-incest/stepcest are always going to be included in the chapters. 

Tags for this chapter: Stepcest/pseudo-incest, cheating, NTR (Netorare) ((Karlheinz gets cucked)), dub-con (the reader believes she has feelings for Shu), dubiously-consensual implied impregnation, mentions of pregnancy, blood, and my out-of-practice smut writing skills that border on cringe, Happy sex (?) 

This is as vanilla as it’s gonna get for this series, methinks. Next chapter it’s Reiji’s turn. ;) Happy sinning ❤

WORD COUNT: 5.8K (11 pages)

___

In his life, Shu learnt to try to ignore meaningless things around him and to feel as precious little as possible - he didn’t need to feel, it added no enhancement to his life. To love was to have weakness and those he loved and cared for often ended tragically.

It was only natural that he chose to stick to himself and become a solitary creature after all that he’s been through, was it not? Solitude meant safety. Slowly but surely Shu cut as many emotions away with a metaphorical knife as he could, opting instead to be careless regarding all matters. He didn’t need anyone else, just himself. Only himself.

But there was one emotion that refused to leave, one emotion he would never allow the chance to withdraw from his heart - hatred. Pure, unadulterated loathing towards the man who caused his, his brothers’ and their mothers’ tragedies - Karlheinz. The hatred he felt was coated by a layer of would-be indifference - he knew better than to challenge the man, at least for the meanwhile - memories from the North Pole haunted him still. His father was a cruel, demanding man and Shu felt abhorrence, perhaps it did not reach the hatred felt by some other brothers but it was there and undying.

Karlheinz’s largest sin of all was the pain he caused his mother - the burdens he put onto him were a close second, however. But Beatrix’s suffering still wounded Shu to think about even after so many years had passed. The guilt instilled in him from that time flowed through his veins, unrelenting. His mother had her streaks of emotionally tormenting him but after all she merely wanted to prepare him for a difficult life ahead and Shu missed her presence as demanding as it was. And that was why when his father chose to re-marry yet again, Shu felt nothing but slight pity for the bride but regardless, he felt towards her as he did with most things; wholly indifferent. That was, of course, until he got to know the woman - he recalled the wedding day, it was a boring event and the fact his appearance had to be publicly seen bothered him for he’d much rather be doing anything but - still, he did as told and attended, albeit with minimal effort.

You made for a blushing bride, he couldn’t deny that. Glamorous appearance was hardly something he heeded though, and his father was known for choosing beautiful women as his wives - you knew nothing of the terrible fate that was bound to befall you in the coming months or years. At least all the other wives were long dead, namely Cordelia (whose torments only fed into the neglect his father served his mother, furthering her agonies) so you’d have no other competitors for Karlheinz’s horrid affections. He felt nothing for you, then. But unbeknownst to him, that detachment would not last forever and soon thereafter Karlheinz sent his bride away to live with his sons: what drove his father to such a foolish decision baffled Shu and he felt it somewhat of a ploy, another experiment to conduct. Maybe it was, but then again it only wasted time and energy to speculate on what went through Karlheinz’s mind. But you were their new stepmother, not one of their sacrificial brides; that was made clear, if unspoken. You were not their shared property but the property of the vampire king and it was to be respected, even if you had a puppet authority or no true power over them.

He avoided you at first, in his mind getting to know anyone was worthless;  and yet you persisted under the guise of ‘getting to know’ him and the others, wanting a relationship with your new stepsons. None of them really wanted a relationship with you, except for perhaps Reiji who hoped that you’d speak well of him to his father, ever-the-suckup.

You were a vampire of course, although it was surprising to learn that you were not a pureblood as they were. Karlheinz always made his decisions for a reason and he knew the reason for marrying you wasn’t love: therefore must’ve been something else entirely.

Karlheinz was incapable of love.

Gradually he found himself enjoying your attempted affections and voice - you figured out his disposition and chose to talk to him without expecting anything more than grunts and hums in return, knowing he preferred to listen to his music. Even he wasn’t sure at what point in your relationship he started to favour the sound of your melodious voice to his earphones, but it happened and he soon found himself turning down the volume as you spoke about your day if only to listen to your sweet voice far more vividly. He started to seek you out, something...unusual growing in his soul at the sight of you - he began appearing in places you were around the mansion, silently guarding you against the likes of the others (such as Laito). He liked being around you - a feeling he’d lost long ago ever since the “death” of Edgar - true companionship. But it couldn’t last perpetually, as nothing ever could, and those amicable feelings grew until they bloomed into something far darker than protectiveness towards his new stepmother and prospective friend - his heart yearned for you in the most unusual ways. It was troublesome for an overwhelming variety of reasons, primarily because he couldn’t have you. His romantic intentions soon turned to a subtle obsession. He needed to be close to you, always there - watching.

You’d always smile and greet him pleasantly, innocently - how on earth you could be so innocent after centuries’ worth of living on this earth, much less so after marrying Karlheinz, he had no clue. Your naivety and sweet nature brought him to you, made him fall into insanity because of you. It wasn’t instantaneous, things rarely were. Months went by but eventually he could no longer cope, his dreams were haunted by your form and always the exact same: you laid nude, breasts perfect and demure for him to corrupt, moaning out his name like the most delightful song from an ephemeral musical meant only for him. But when he awoke he was alone.

You tempted him without even knowing it but it was only a matter of time before it would come back to haunt you, he couldn’t be expected to have control over his instincts and needs forever and the time came when he finally snapped.

Stepmother or not, he was going to have you. In a way, it served as the most exquisite form of perceived vengeance towards that man - to steal his wife. He was hesitant about how to approach his desire to seduce you, such things were really more of Laito’s expertise, but he’d be damned if he failed to achieve his goals. You were too good for Karlheinz - a kindly thing to the point of intoxication and frustration, too pure for a vampire. He wanted to be the one to fully spoil your spirit, he wouldn’t permit his father to shatter your psyche as he did with all his previous wives. Shu was going to protect you, but in order to do that he first had to take you; claim you for himself. And that’s when he came across the most intriguing sight: your hushed moans of pleasure as your [slender/chubby/elegant] fingers stroked your glistening cunt in your private chambers - the same chambers which were supposed to be blessed in sacred matrimony if only his father hadn’t left you here all alone at the mercy of his ravenous sons. He must’ve assumed such a thing would happen sooner or later, hadn’t he? If not, then...well, Shu couldn’t help but think it his father’s loss from his own folly. “Shu.” Your angelic voice uttered his name - not his father’s, not your husband’s - but his. In your moment of unholy ecstasy, it was him on your mind; thoughts of him that edged you to your bliss. His obsessive passions were returned to him in kind, it seemed, and he couldn’t be more glad.

“Shu?” You questioned the following evening at dusk, that blossom-pink blush dusting your cheeks like an undead Aphrodite, tempting him further into his hidden lustful hunger, “Is...is everything okay? You’ve been staring at me all evening and I just wanted to ask if there’s something wrong-” He sighed, eyes half-lidded as if tired but it was his internal frustration revealed. “There is.” “Oh?” You pouted and fuck, he wanted to bruise your plump lips right there and then until they held his mark. “You really are more trouble than you’re worth,” It was a lie, of course, but he was a guarded man and his words reflected that. “Shu…? What do you mean?” The sadistic aspect of him was fuelled by the subtle distress in your eyes, however, you tried to remain calm, he’d said harsher things and you knew he scarcely ever meant them but something...something seemed so offbeat tonight. No, not just tonight - as of recently, but you couldn’t place a finger on the exact date when things began to change between you.

Your hands were down, pressed together as your thumbs nervously rubbed the other. You just wanted answers. “Heh,” He smirked, “You have no idea how alluring you are, do you?” His tired eyes stared earnestly into your soul and you felt stripped of your integrity. An innocent blush flooded your visage with lecherous embarrassment at such a sensual suggestion, sputtering out various syllables as you rushed to find your footing and speak out in protest of such an inappropriate topic between mother and son - that was what you were, related or not...you were his mother, even if merely by marriage. Guilt clogged your throat up as you thought of your own lust for your stepson, he was only slightly younger than you were and handsome beyond compare (as much as you loathed to admit it, your carnal self preferred Shu’s indescribable silent grace and steely blue eyes to the snowy tresses of his father) and disgust for yourself stung you deeper than a knife dipped in holy water - had he...witnessed your acts of depravity in your chambers? Did he know? “S-Shu, I...I don’t know what you mean,” You were drowning, unable to form proper words, “Don’t.” He cut you off before you could deny what you both knew at that moment. You weren’t as innocent and proper as you made yourself out to be. As you wished to be. No, you were a creature of tainted prurience and Shu was more than happy to play into your fantasies. You paled and nodded, if you were human your heart would’ve surely been palpitating by now. Fear wholly consumed you - would he be disgusted by you - no, he would’ve made that clear by now. Shu hid his thoughts and feelings from others but if he’d felt abhorrent disgust he wouldn’t have chosen to speak to you or indeed even be around you, you trusted that truth if nothing else. But then there was only one explanation for his demeanour, one that made you clench your thighs tight as you stood before him, a woman. He stood from his seat, no longer laying on the windowsill. “You’ve been a terrible wife,” Tears of crimson welled in your eyes while your knees felt weak but you nodded, ashamed. “Yes.” “And a filthy mother,” His harsh breath on your ear and neck made you whimper, “Y...yes,” You stuttered out with another whimpering moan, “Shu please don’t toy with me, I’m sorry I-” Without another sound escaping your painted lips you felt the amorous pressure of your stepson’s kiss, disclosing the intense emotions he returned for you. Your mind screamed at you for your sins and yet you were both inhuman creatures; Perpetuity of faithfulness was boresome and your husband had done little but ignore you and your hopes for a good life. Shu, however, had been there since the beginning of your marriage - even if you’d started out as nothing more than his father’s wife - now you were so much more, immensely more. Your knees buckled as you gave into the kiss, unable to avoid your feelings for him a second longer - you needed him just like this and he needed you too.

Human or not, the inherent wrongness burned your flesh and chest. You’d tried to be a good wife but your husband had practically abandoned you here with his sons bred for him by other women, he’d left you here and did little to even write to you. Loneliness was an obvious side-effect and it was only a matter of time before you would’ve fallen into another’s arms. But your debauchery brought you right into his son’s embrace. A terrible wife indeed.

Shu devoured your moans, swallowing your lust and increasing his own as his ample size grew in the confinements of his pants. “Fuck,” He huffed out as you pulled away from him, blinking. Your thighs burned with a need only he could satisfy. A shy hand wandered down his body towards his growing erection, stroking it from the fabric of his pants. Your efforts were rewarded by the sound of his deep groans. How long had it been since anyone touched you like this? Since you’d been able to make someone feel unutterable pleasure - since anyone made you feel wanted? You had slept with Karlheinz only a couple of times and he failed to sate your inner hunger as Shu was doing with only kisses and loving groans. “You’re playing with fire,” He breathed out, staring at you and sealing you in place. “I...know,” You swallowed thickly, “P-please, I...I need-” “What do you need, whore?” His teasing words of degradation made you feel alive, you were the object of his uttermost attention. His lips traced your neck, licking and gnawing but never piercing, fangs flying over the tender flesh. “You.” The certainty in your otherwise meek voice nearly made him burst right there. He was done restraining himself, pearly fangs sharper than needles pierced your neck as Shu drank the sweet nectar beneath. Your pleasured moans filled the hallways of the Sakamaki manor and he prayed his brothers could hear you wherever they were knowing that he won you. And he was going to keep you. You were going to no longer be just his stepmother - you would be his woman.

The blood, thick and plentiful, dripped down your neck. The droplets were not wasted as his tongue gathered them before they could drip onto the marble flooring. Shu was going to get addicted to this taste - your taste - he was sure of it. This was what you were made for; to belong to him. As he did this you toyed with his pants, unzipping them and releasing his erect cock from its prison, letting it spring free, wet with precum. “Oh fuck,” You whimpered at the sensation, pumping up and down his length. You wanted this, you wanted him so badly. You could feel yourself slowly dripping with clenched thighs. This was wrong - it was revolting - but you couldn’t stop the heat inside you, your inner desires. On your quest to befriend your sons you inadvertently ended up falling in love with one of them and never before had you longed to be held by someone as you did when you were with him.  

You wanted to be his, no one else’s. But you couldn’t be, for you already were a taken woman; despite the truth, you wanted to succumb to your immorality; to pretend that, for tonight alone, you were his.

Once he pulled away from your neck Shu chuckled lowly, “You’re such a lewd slut, mother.” You cringed at the name, reminding yourself of the positions between you two and, for a short-lived second, you attempted to pull away except the moment you did he caged in on you, back shoved against the wall with burning eyes glaring at you. “But you’re going to be my slut from now on.” his breath hitched as your hand movements sped up, blushing crimson from your wicked sensuality. You were loving this, in all its sinfulness. “Y-Yes,” You choked out submissively as you brought him to his edge, creamy cum coating your hand and sinking into the fabric of your dress, physically tainting you. It drove you wild.

The sight of you in front of him, dress dripping with his cum made him hard almost instantly as he ordered you to strip for him after he grabbed your arm and pulled you into the empty music room - he didn’t want to be interrupted by any of his bothersome brothers.

“Strip for me.”

You nodded and bit down harshly on your lip, droplets of blood still flowing from your neck at the open puncture wound, staining the white semen-soaked fabric as you unzipped the back and slowly released your hold on it as it fell down your form until you were exposed in only your undergarments, intimate and raw. This was incredibly embarrassing and yet, for him...you didn’t mind humiliating yourself. You were convinced of it, now: you were in love with him. Soft hands twirled around to unclip your bra, feeling as though it wasn’t merely your body which you were exposing to him but your very being as your breasts bounced free from the cups’ confinements, bra forgotten as you threw it down onto the floor, not caring about anything else but him. ‘Don’t do this’, your sanity pleaded but whatever morality may have existed in the cage of your heart was extinguished with a single gaze into his yearning eyes. If you didn’t do this the lack of his touch on your skin would surely drive you insane. You just wanted to be loved, cherished and used.

You were married - and although that sentiment alone should have been enough to snap you out of this sexual haze you were trapped in, it did little to sway your lust-filled judgement. Swallowing nervously your fingers dipped below the strips of your panties, sliding down your silky thighs, pride consumed you as you watched his subtle but intense reactions, the way his thick member twitched in anticipation made you feel powerful for the first time in your life. You couldn’t wait to feel him inside you. “Come here,” He growled, making you squeal as you nodded like a good little whore and fell onto your knees, crawling over to him - you felt like putting on a show for him, filled with risque concupiscence. If your husband was to ever find out you feared the consequences and despite the dangers, it drove you further into the arms of his eldest son to consider how taboo, how wrong such a union was. There was something unspokenly intimate about this. An intimacy from which you never wished to awaken. As soon as you were at his feet you admired his cock, glistening from residue cum in the moonlight. “Oh God,” You were about to cross a border from which you could never return and it turned you on profoundly to think about how your relationship would develop from here. Opening your mouth, you took his length inside your warmth, (e/c) eyes staring up at him like a sweet gazelle, pumping your head up and down and twisting your tongue around him as you sucked his member with a fierce determination to please. He believed this was the closest to heaven he would ever be; you, his personal fallen angel at his feet, his cock in your mouth.

Shu thought you were perfect just like this; doing all the work as you fucked your mouth on his cock, giving him your all as he sat back, eyes fluttering shut to focus on the pleasure you were providing. You were so good for him, such a pretty girl. Such an ideal woman, his woman. Further lewd commentary fell from his lips as he prompted you on. He wanted you on your knees for him each night, and you would be. He would make sure that things would stay this way forever now he was so close to having you all to himself. Even if it meant having to fight against his father, even if it meant the most intensive of efforts and having to use all the energy he had stored in his muscles - though he’d never utter it aloud, for you he would do anything.

Even if the only way to keep you would be to commit patricide. You were worth it. Just before his release, he pulled your head back by gripping your hair forcefully causing a pained yell to escape from you, your voice full of physical anguish that set off a primal need within his chest. “That’s enough.” He then lifted your chin to look him in the eyes, “Ride me.” You gulped back the juices in your mouth and shakily stood as your thighs were flooded with slick. “Y-Yes I…” You blushed vehemently as you aligned yourself with his cock, sucking in a sharp hiss as you felt the heat of it against your burning cunt. “I want you to make me yours.” Instantly you sat down, thighs clenched as your walls adjusted to the intrusion, making you cry out in ecstasy. Did you seriously almost orgasm simply from having his length inside of you? You couldn’t be blamed - not when your husband had neglected you. But it was going to be all better now that Shu was here to help you. Just as a good stepson should. “Fuck,” He gasped out quietly, breath falling from his chest. You were so fucking tight he could’ve potentially fooled himself into believing you were still virginal. That was, of course, until he reminded himself that his father stole that honour for himself and elicited underlying rage in Shu. With the buck of his hips he drove himself inside you as you cried out his name, holding tightly onto him, arms tied around his neck as you rode him, clumsily moving your hips and revealing your sexual inexperience to him; the knowledge that his father didn’t seem to take any time cherishing your body like this, lewd and sinful, eased him somewhat because it meant he could be the one to make you completely lose your mind and become his perfect little whore.

Maybe he’d even make you his wife, along the way.

His arms held your waist and he lazily guided the movement of your hips. You were insatiable, rapid. He could tell you wanted to go faster but his strong hands consistently ceased your attempts - he was going to force you to take your time, to truly feel the way his cock filled your insides, to ensure your walls would take the shape of his dick.

He wanted you to know that he was superior to his father, that no one could ever please you better. He never felt so attached to anyone prior to you, you did something to him. Something dark. Enchanting. And he was never going to let you go after this. By giving your body to him, you have given yourself in your totality.

Even if you didn’t know it quite yet, or didn’t fully apprehend the consequences sex with him would bring.

Your whines became far more desperate with each blunt thrust. Slow, steady but forceful; Shu’s cock reached into the deepest parts of you, lovingly rubbing your cunt. It was indisputable that he was focused on your enjoyment as much as he was on his - it wasn’t anything like what sex with Karlheinz was like, he was self-gratifying and solely cared about his own high, Shu (much to your surprise) paid attention to your smallest reactions to ensure this was as great for you as it was for him. His fingers delved below and started to mercilessly torment your clit, electricity flying through your spine and cunt clenching as more love juices were produced, soaking his cock and helping to lubricate the thrusts.

He wanted to show you how mindblowing sex with him could be, to show you he could love you in ways no one else ever could. In the eyes of his brothers, especially in Reiji and Ayato’s point-of-view, he was the one who got everything; the golden, careless heir. But they did not and would never understand that he had everything he didn’t want. His entire life the things he truly yearned for were stolen from him, his happiness, his innocence, his friends and beloved companions of human and animal kind; destroyed, ruined, killed. It reared his indifference to the material goods he possessed for they held absolutely no value of their own. And now there was you. You, you, you. Sakamaki Shu knew that, without a single shred of disbelief, he would happily give up all of this if it meant he got to keep you. All the wealth and grandeur and power that his position brought was worthless in comparison to his beloved whore whimpering above him as she impaled herself on his cock.

“S-Shu,” You moaned out into his ear, “Fa...faster, please,” You choked back spit as you made feeble attempts to catch your breath, the intense friction between your joined bodies making it difficult to think. It wasn’t as rough or primal as you initially thought it would be like, it was...better than that, intimate. Was this what they mean when they say sex can be ‘making love’? This closeness between bodies as they become one, the heat and passion in the air and bouncing breasts and thighs clasped around one’s lover? It wasn’t fucking - it was so much more. A proclamation of love, even, though you could never dare and utter that belief out loud. His self-satisfied comments, “Hm,” He playfully paused completely, making your eyes widen as you stared at him with desperation for him to continue, to let you reach your climax. Your nails scratched his back like a needy brat as you cried out pleas, “Please - please Shu, I need you to keep going I-” You swallowed thickly, blinking wildly as your core ached without movement and he kept your hips down, unable to fuck yourself on his dick regardless of how hard you tried. “Say you love me.” “W-What?” You gasped out, sweaty and needy but with enough common sense to know that saying something like that to him - even if it was true - would seal a secret deal between lovers, it would open all the nightmares of your very own Pandora’s Box.

But you loved him - you did, somewhere along the way you became enamoured by your stepson and now he was inside of you, fucking you with a tenderness that made you sure that he must love you, too. “I…” You smiled weakly, genuinely. You pulled back ever-so-slightly, (e/c) eyes sinking into his. There was a vulnerability in his eyes that he was finally permitting you to see; he trusted you with his heart, you could see that now. Your hand stroked his cheek, his hard dick still throbbing inside of you (you knew he wanted to keep going but held himself back, resolved to get what he wanted out of you). He melted into the caress, your hands were soft as angel feathers. “I am in love with you, Sakamaki Shu.” Despite the arousal that filled your mind you earnestly tried to convey the true depth of your affections for him and it seemed to awaken the beast of passion as he soon started to bounce you up and down his thick, throbbing member at a speed only vampires could achieve, determined to claim your womb for his own.

It wasn’t hard to notice your maternal longings, your desire to baby the boys despite their inherent aggression towards you all but proved it. And if was a baby you wanted, well...who was he to deny you of that right? His hushed grunts only sent you further into ecstasy - You had the power of feminine sexuality over him and it gave you somewhat of a power rush. It was paradise - not worthless fucking like animals - but true divinity here in his arms, where you felt appreciated and loved and as though you finally had a raison d’etre - You wanted to be his so badly it caused you physical anguish but you were his if only for the moment, connected to him so snugly. “I love you,” You sobbed out as tears welled in your eyes from the intense satisfaction and your own emotions coming to the surface, “I love you, I love you,” Each word sent Shu into a brand new dimension of rapture. You loved him, you loved him - more than anyone else in this world. If binding your bodies together didn’t officially make you his your whimpering confessions just did. The urge to impregnate you with his seed only grew with every passing moment as you mechanically moved in perfect timing to his thrusts, nails once again clawing at his flesh. “That’s a-” He inhaled sharply, stopping mid-moan, “That’s a good girl,” He breathed heavily, you felt so perfect on his dick, his personal cockslut, the love of his life, stepmother and soon; the mother of his children. “F-Fuck you’re going to look...fucking amazing,” He sighed out as he felt your fluttering walls try their hardest to milk him, “When you’re swollen with my troublesome brats, heh…” He could only smugly smile at your immediate reaction to the statement being to clunch down on him, tightening as if your womb was begging him to cum inside, to fertilise your pussy and breed you over and over. “Pregnant?” You exhaled out, teary-eyed as you locked your eyes with him, fucked out to the high heavens with sweat causing your hair to stick to your reddened forehead and lipstick smudged with perky, puffed lips. “Yo-You want to get me pregnant…?” The timidity of your voice betrayed your excitement. Logically you wanted to escape, to push him away and scold him for even suggesting such a thing - you couldn’t become pregnant with his child! It was atrocious enough that you were currently having this affair with him, your stepson, but to be bred by him was in a category all of its own - truly disgusting.

No matter how much your husband neglected you he didn’t deserve to for his wife to not only cheat on him with his own son but to be inseminated by him - but the inner beast within you was wanton, a silent whisper in your mind that tried to persuade you to surrender fully to your hopes for motherhood, to allow this man in front of you, this beautiful vampiric prince, to fill you with his seed and claim you as his bitch, his bride; to be stolen from the man you originally wed and live your eternity as Shu’s whore. “I-...we can’t, Shu! We-” Morals renewed, you tried to get through to him, “Please-” “Shut up.” He ordered and you instantly did as told, being the good girl that you were. “Don’t lie to me. You’re loving the-” He moaned, “-idea of...of my children growing inside of you. I felt you tighten up at the notion, you’re such a fucking lewd woman. My lewd slut.” You hated yourself because you knew he was right; it was true. You wanted this so badly, to give birth to his kin, to feel your uterus painted white with his cum. Primal needs craved relief. “No, we...we can’t, I...don’t…” You choked on your words as he kissed you roughly, his thumb on your clit twirling and pulling until you were unable to form anything more coherent than mindless stutters. “S-Shu! Fuck, fuck, fuck I...I...I love you! I do! I do, please I just...I want-” “What do you want, pretty whore?” “...I want, I w….want your cum! I need it, I need you to fill me up and get me pregnant!” The last remainder of your will crumbled under the pressure of your sudden orgasm. ‘I’m so sorry, Karl…’ you thought bitterly as amazement overtook you, making you screech in the midst of the night in the moonlight, squeezing the lifeforce out of your stepson’s dick. Shu groaned and laughed in dark victory as you came undone around him, biting into his neck instinctively mid-orgasm. The sharp sensation was enough to push him completely over the edge.

Your tongue lapped over his neck, sipping the blood that flowed with delicious fervour as the heat of his semen poured into your deepest depths, coating your womb with his lust. Once you pulled away you felt almost faint from the intensity of your love-making, concupiscence fading as the realisation of what you just did hit you in full force, causing your eyes to open. “Shu..oh fuck, I...we...just--” You squealed and tried to hop off but he kept your hips forced down, still inside your leaking cunt despite slowly growing soft. “No.” Shu was serious, now, eyes grave. “You’re not running away. You,” He exhaled, bringing your lips closer to his, “Are mine.” “Shu-” The distance between your lips was closed as he fought with your tongue. Your heart yearned to return his kiss and despite the inner war ongoing within your soul you did, tongues dancing in the warmth of your mouth. When he pulled away he smiled.

And you felt yourself smile too, hand travelling to the spot below your stomach but above your cunt. “You’re mine now, troublesome woman.” You laughed, nodding and kissed him again. The conflict within you wouldn’t fade, and you were terrified of what might happen now to yourself and to Shu. But maybe it won’t be that bad. It was only one time - you can surely find some form of birth control to ingest before the next time, and he’d never have to know. It was...one time, so you shouldn’t get pregnant this time...right?

Somehow you felt proud - proud to have his cum flowing from your core, to know it’s his seed that potentially is currently fertilising you and not your husband’s. You did feel authentically guilty but the guilt made you more aroused. Karlheinz didn’t deserve...this and despite that here you were, and the worst part was you knew you wouldn’t be able to stop anytime soon, there was no point in vowing to yourself that this would be the ‘last time’ because you knew that the moment he came inside you you were already addicted to him. The child of your lover...realistically it was an awful, unspeakable idea but a sense within you wanted to go through with it, to allow yourself fertility, to fully become his.

Little did you know you would have no choice in the matter.