#sort of an echo chamber of each others feelings

[dragonsholygrail]

Vampires are a very composed and prideful sort of monster and your Vampire bf is no different.

He is the picture of perfection and sophistication in all public regards. His posture is so straight you’d swear he was statue. His language is smooth and charming to the point where he could convince an orc he was actually a troll. At society events he is the one to talk to with a row of awaiting guests lined up down the halls. Always with you standing right by his side. While he keeps you close, aching to have you near, he’s always respectful in his acts around you.

As leader of his coven he has to be.

But he’s not like that when he’s alone with you. No, never. When you’re the only one around he finally feels free to be completely himself. Not having to put on a show for everyone while also maintaining all his responsibilities. In the quiet of your chambers he can simply be your mate. As you are his mate. His eternal love. And this affects him deeper than he realizes. He has more of a soft spot for you than even he can admit to himself at times.

Particularly when your Vampire bf drinks your blood. He swears he’s not addicted to it. To the flavors that dance and mingle amongst the copper tang, to the thick warmth that mimics your tender embrace as it coats his throat, to the spark of adrenaline akin to lightning that shoots through his body as your blood pumps through his veins. No, definitely not addicted…

Yet just one drop of your life force has him falling to his knees, whining and whimpering as he nuzzles into your stomach. But it’s important to know that he doesn’t beg— he never begs for it. That is one thing your Vampire bf always says for certain (denies). He definitely doesn’t beg.

Not even as he’s pounding into you from behind, the glide of his cock along your walls making your head spin. His face in your neck, inhaling deeply as he soaks up your scent. So you must mishear him every time he takes you whispering, “P-please, my heart. You know I need all of you. Jus’ wanna consume you, darling, please.”

Of course your neck is bared for him before either of you can utter another word. Yet you cry out as your Vampire bf’s hips jolt, slamming against that spot along your gummy walls at just the mere sight of the slope of your neck.

His fangs sink into your flesh with a quiet squelch that mirrors the wet noise echoing throughout the room as your hips meet with each thrust. Mirroring moans leaving you as you both melt into each other. Your powerful Vampire bf turning into a puddle of arousal at a single drop of your blood.

Loud whines fall past your bf’s lips and vibrate into your neck. You moan, head rolling back. The ecstasy of your bf sucking your blood meeting the intensity of his cock rutting into your pussy just right. Vampire bf rubs against you, desperate to touch every inch of your skin. His hands scouring and groping every soft bit of flesh he can get his hands on. Nuzzling impossibly deeper into your neck as he turns into a whimpering mess of senseless limbs.

All these sensations crash into each other, overwhelming you in the best possible way. They send you flying higher and higher until your orgasm washes over you and you’re mewling as you arch back into your Vampire bf. Your touch and the clenching of your cunt sends your bf into his own orgasm, both of you weakly riding out the waves of euphoria in each other’s arms.

His tongue laps at any remaining blood trickling out as his fangs release you. He brings you into his arms, his form surrounding and curling around you as you lay on the bed. His body hypertensive to touch but he nuzzles into you anyway, seeking more of your warmth.

You hold onto him tightly, swearing that nothing is better than when your sophisticated and proper bf morphs into a total mess. And only ever for you.

[amethystwrytes]

Of Course, Professor

Pairing: Law Professor!Lee Know x Female Reader

Genre: Smut. Romantic-ish. Basically just porn with a hint of plot tossed in so I don’t just keyboard smash sex stuff on the page and feel bad about myself. 18+.

Summary: The law professor everyone is scared of generously offers to help you with your school work.

Warnings: There is explicit language. There is explicit sex (oral, penetration, teasing, edging, cumshot). There is a Professor/Student relationship, and IRL I do think that’s super inappropriate BUT this isn’t real life and I promise everything is very consensual, there’s no like “give me sex and you’ll get an A” kinda stuff, so, it’s all very much in my own personal scope of comfort. I wouldn’t write anything I felt was yucky. If any of that rubs you the wrong way though, that’s totally fine, and this one isn’t for you which is completely okay.

A/N: So, once upon a time in my undergrad years I was determined to be a lawyer. For a solid academic year I changed my major to Paralegal Studies because I figured that would be a perfect foundation for law school (smart, right?). Except like, three months in I was miserable and hated everything about it and realized that it absolutely couldn’t be me. I ended up having a similar discussion with my academic advisor/professor - except I didn’t end up fucking them - not that professor anyway (kidding). I always wanted to write a story about that awful year, and now I have - kinda…sort of. With a twist of delicious Lee Know and forbidden love. Yum. 

“Can you stop please?” 

You look at the girl sitting next to you in class. Her name completely escapes you but her eyes are burning lasers at the pen you’ve been clicking nervously in your hands. 

“...Sorry…” 

You apologize and gently set the pen down on your desk. Professor Lee is taking his sweet time passing back the most recent term papers and you dig your nails into your palm in anticipation of your grade. 

To say you’re struggling in his Civil Procedures course is an understatement. In fact, you don’t seem to be doing well in any of the classes you’re taking this semester. The voices of your parents condescendingly telling you “Law School isn’t for everyone and that’s okay,” sound like they’re playing on repeat in an echo chamber. 

If you bomb this paper you’re out. You stayed up almost all night last night going over the pros and cons of dropping out. You went back and forth so long fighting with yourself that you fell asleep thinking about it, and when you woke up the only thing you could think of was letting the universe give you a sign. 

You had worked on your term paper for weeks, carefully piecing it together, you spent so much time in the library that you now know the TA who works at the help desk on a first name basis. So if you flunk it, there’s your magical sign.

“Ms. ___,” Professor Lee sets your paper face down on the desk - bad sign. He leans down just a tad, “Why don’t we meet in my office after class?” - even worse. 

“Yes, Professor,” you nod. You think about not even flipping the stapled monstrosity over, but curiosity gets the better of you. 

There it is, a painful 55% staring back at you in thick, blood-red marker. You spare yourself the trouble of pouring over the thinner red notes made in the margins of every page. You can’t help the tears of frustration that pool in your eyes. 

“Everyone enjoy your break and the time spent with your families, when we return we’ll begin our discussions on Summary Judgement, so please make sure you complete the reading outlined in the syllabus before we see each other again. Dismissed,” Mr. Lee nods and the ruckus of chairs against linoleum and exasperation fill the room. 

Mr. Lee’s office is four floors above the classroom, so you have a few minutes to spare - which you spend in the restroom crying, drying your eyes, then crying again. 

You’re dropping out of Law School. All that work, all that trying, all those late nights - and don’t even start on the amount of money spent on coffee and tuition and fucking textbooks and…you start sobbing again. 

“How did you do?” Seungmin asks when you emerge from the ladies room, his face immediately contorts into a painful frown at your red, puffy face, “That bad huh?” 

“I can’t really talk Seungmin,” you take a deep breath, “I’ve got to go meet Lee in his office before his next class begins.” 

“Fuck,” Seungmin frowns even more, “That man scares the shit out of me.” 

“Thanks,” you say, “That’s helpful.” 

“Sorry. We’re all heading to the Coffee House before everyone starts driving home for the break, do you want to come? After your meeting of course,” he asks. 

“Not today,” you shake your head, “but thank you for asking.” 

He gives you a sympathetic look and your shoulder a tiny squeeze.

You stand outside Professor Lees office for a few moments, gathering yourself. Professor Lee makes everyone nervous. He’s a hard instructor, emotionless sometimes, so direct it’s painful, and it doesn’t help anyone that he’s also devastatingly attractive. He’s a giant walking slab of intimidation. 

You softly knock on the door and he looks up at you from over his glasses as he types something. 

“Ah, Ms. ___, there you are. Come, sit down,” he instructs and you slide through the doorframe and slouch in an old green armchair across from his desk. 

“Just give me one second,” he says slowly as he continues typing, “alright.” 

“I’m sorry sir, for the term paper, I should have done better,” you offer up, electing to go ahead and fall on your own sword.

“There’s no need for apologies Ms. ___, a waste of time in this kind of situation. I would like to speak to you about your grades this semester though. After I graded your term paper, I reached out to some of my colleagues - some of your other professors - and they all had similar reports to give me, can we talk about that?”

You sigh, fanning out your fingers over your thighs, “Please, Professor, you mentioned a moment ago about time wasters - and I don’t want to waste anymore of your time - I’ve decided to drop out of law school.” 

The defeat you feel just saying the words out loud to someone is enough to bring tears back, but you fight them off. You will not cry in Professor Lee Minhos office. Absolutely not. 

Professor Lee purses his lips and nods, “I think that’s probably for the best.” 

Your jaw drops, “Aren’t you supposed to encourage me to do the opposite? To try harder or something?” 

“Miss ___, I fear if you tried any harder your hair might burn out from the roots,” he smiles and if you weren’t so shocked, you’d laugh at the first joke you’ve ever heard him utter. 

Before you can think of something to say, he produces a file folder from his drawers and smacks it on the table making you jump. 

“These are all the papers you’ve written for my class so far this semester. Your papers intrigue me Miss ___.” 

Intrigue? That’s a funny word to use for ‘disgusted and disappointed beyond imagination.’ 

“But you-,” you begin to point out that the highest grade he’s ever given you on a paper was a 68%. Far from intriguing. 

“But…as legal writing? They’re all absolute trash,” he tells you. “What intrigues me about them is the way you write, it’s quite good, every time I read one I feel like I’m in the room with a friend who’s trying to sort of explain law to me, the problem is you just don’t think, rationalize, or talk like a lawyer. I noticed in your transcript that your undergraduate degree was in education, and you had a 4.0 GPA. I can’t help but wonder, Miss ___, what career are you looking for?” 

“A…a lawyer,” you say in a quiet voice, staring at a knick on his desk. 

He looks skeptical as he leans back in his chair, “Why?” 

“Because…” oh fuck it all, you may as well just say it, “because my father, my mother, and my older brother are all lawyers, who went here.” 

“I see, so one could deduce that you wanted to be a lawyer because they wanted you to be one, they expected it of you?” he concludes. 

You smile comically, the truth is much more pathetic. 

“No, actually, they all told me I couldn’t do it. They told me I wasn’t smart enough, sharp enough, bold enough. I wanted to teach art to school children, but when that’s exactly what I elected to study, their comments started. I was just a private joke between the three of them, and I hated it, so I wanted to show them that I could be a lawyer.” 

“You came here to study law out of stubborn spite?” he reiterates. 

“Yes sir, I did,” you look at your lap and play with a rogue string from your sweater cuff. 

“That’s quite impressive, Miss ___, to go through all that trouble, strife, and money to do something you have no interest in just to best your family.” 

“Well when you say it like that I sound like a psycho,” you laugh timidly, trying to keep the sludge of humiliation down. 

“I don’t think you’re a psycho, I think you’re a bright woman who wanted to show her family they were wrong, but just ended up making herself miserable,” his expression is soft, almost understanding. “However, as your professor, I don’t think I could recommend continuing with law school. This is your first year, with first year level studies, and you’re struggling this much all for something you don’t even want, it will only get more difficult from here.” 

You nod, “You’re probably right sir,” you stand, “I should get to the admin office before they close for the break, I’m sorry for wasting your time,” you give him a respectful smile and grab your bag.

“Miss ___,” he motions for you to sit back down, “First of all, you’ve not wasted a single second of my time. Second, I don’t recommend dropping out right now, I think you should finish this semester at least.” 

“You just said…”

“I said I don’t think you should continue with law school, and I don’t. However, we’re past the official mid-point of the semester, the cut off to withdraw for a full refund of tuition was last week, if you go now you’ll never get that money back.” 

You plop back down in the chair, even more defeated, “I didn’t realize that,” you drag your hands down your face in frustration, “shit.”

Professor Lee chuckles, “I do have an alternative plan for you, if you’re willing to hear it and put in the work,” he offers. 

You sit up straight, “Yes, of course sir.” 

“I suggest you finish this semester, and I will help you - starting with rewriting your latest term paper. I’ll even try to assist you with some of your other courses, if you’d like. If we work diligently enough, you can finish this semester with an acceptable GPA, that keeps your academic record away from probation or academic expulsion,” he explains. 

“You would do that?” you ask in disbelief. 

“Well, of course, I am a professor after all. What sort would I be if I wasn’t willing to help my students?” 

“I don’t know what to say Professor,” you smile, “that’s too generous.” 

“It’s not a problem Miss ___. Now, let’s talk strategy, I assume you don’t plan on spending break with your family?” he guesses. 

“No sir, they’re too busy anyway, I plan on staying in my apartment off campus during the break,” you answer. 

“Splendid. This evening I have a night class to teach, but perhaps we could meet tomorrow? The library will be closed for break, but my students enjoy meeting up together at that coffee place downtown, uh, Coffee Shack or something,” he struggles. 

“The Coffee House?” you help him and try to hold back a grin.

“Yes, would you like to meet there, say, 1PM tomorrow afternoon? We can go over some of your papers together and I’ll help you with your legal writing technique,” he asks. 

“Yes, I’ll be there sir, I really can’t thank you enough, truly I appreciate this,” you tell him. 

“I look forward to it, Miss ___.” 

📖 ❤️

You adjust your backpack as you walk towards the Coffee House doors. You packed your laptop, all your text books, notes, and a few other things because you weren’t sure what Professor Lee would want to cover. The weight of it all is dragging you down and you have to hunch over a bit to balance it. 

“My goodness, here, let me get that for you Miss ___,” Professor Lee greets you at the door, he seems to have already picked a table near the front and grabs your bag with a grunt. “Did you pack your entire house?” he teases. 

“I didn’t know what you’d want me to bring, so I brought all my school things,” you laugh. 

“Well, I suppose it won’t matter that the library is closed since you brought it with you,” he chuckles and you take the seat beside him. 

“Should we start?” you open your laptop and power on. 

“I thought perhaps you’d like a beverage?”

“Oh,” you look behind you at the register, “Yes, I suppose we should caffeinate,” you smile. 

“What would you like?” He stands up and brings his wallet out. 

“Oh please sir, let me pay, it’s the least I could do for all of your help,” you beg. 

“Nonsense, as much as I love to argue Miss ___ I don’t see the point over a cup of coffee, what would you like? Are you hungry?” 

“No, I ate lunch before coming, just a latte for me, small,” you concede, “and thank you…again.” 

He smiles and departs from the table. You watch him in the line from where you sit. Seeing Professor Lee like this feels…different. In a less formal setting he’s almost approachable, and you’re starting to see things about him that you don’t in class. Like his generosity, and kindness, the man even has a sense of humor and you think of texting Seungmin about it but stop yourself. You want to keep this all a secret. You don’t want anyone knowing that you’re in such desperate need of assistance with your courses, but also you want to keep this side of Professor Lee to yourself. 

You could think of worse ways to spend your Saturday afternoon than with an attractive law professor who’s willing to help you pass your classes. You wonder if he’s aware that all his students find him so hot, or if it’s something that’s never occurred to him. He doesn’t wear a ring on any of his fingers, which tells you he isn’t married, but that doesn’t mean he’s single. You can’t imagine that he’s not seeing anyone. In class he’s usually got on some academia aesthetic looking suit on, lots of tweeds and browns - today he wears a fitted pair of jeans, and a navy sweater with a white collared button up fashioned underneath, the sleeves pushed up his forearms. His jet black hair isn’t styled like it usually is in class, and hangs long and loose around his face. He looks like such a boyfriend…

You blush and go back to focusing on your laptop. What the hell was that? He’s your professor. Which is actually kind of enticing…

You press your lips together and roll your eyes at yourself. Stop with the intrusive sexual thoughts about Professor Lee - the man is trying to save your ass, not spank it - having inappropriate daydreams, no matter how justified they may be, is unacceptable. 

“Here we go,” he comes back to the table and sets two mugs on the surface as he takes his seat again. 

“Thanks,” you smile politely, trying not to look at him. If you don’t look at him, maybe you won’t think about how cute he is and instead focus on what you ought to be: your failing grades. 

“So, let’s start with the main issue of your papers. Writing, in the legal sense, is cut and dry. It’s all about facts, findings, and nothing expressive or personal, which is where you seem to have the most trouble,” he begins and you try to absorb the information instead of noticing the way his lips look while sipping his coffee. 

This endeavor may be harder for you than just pulling your grades up. 

📖 ❤️

“I think that was a very productive first meeting,” he says optimistically as you start piling things back into your backpack. 

“I think so too,” you nod. Productive, yes - but now the real work begins and you’ll have to go home and actually re-write the damned thing. 

Professor Lee carries your backpack out the door, “Where’s your car?” 

“Oh, it’s at home, I just live a few blocks away,” you point in the general direction of your apartment. 

“You mean to tell me you carried this while walking from your house?” he holds the backpack with two hands for dramatics and you giggle. 

“It’s not that terrible, how long has it been since you were carrying books around, Professor? Surely you remember the struggle,” you tease. 

“I suppose it’s been a bit, here,” he reaches in his pocket and the SUV beside you beeps, he opens the passenger door, “I’ll drive you home so you don’t have to endure the struggle.” 

“I couldn’t ask you to do that sir,” you shake your head. 

“It’s fine, it’s a small college town Miss ___, I can get literally anywhere in less than five minutes, especially since the majority of students are gone this week. Let me be chivalrous for you,” he smiles and you melt a little bit. 

“Well, if you insist,” you look up at him as you slide into the passenger seat. 

“I do,” he closes the door, then places your bag in the backseat before coming around to the drivers side. 

“Are you always this difficult, Miss ___? Or are you just trying to be overly polite because I’m your professor?” he asks when you point him down the street towards your apartment. 

“Difficult, sir?” you look at him wide-eyed. 

“Mmhmm,” he nods, “You didn’t want me to buy your coffee, you nearly refused my ride home electing to carry a small library on your back while you walk,” a look of panicked concern washes over his face and he looks over at you, “This isn’t making you uncomfortable in any way is it? Being alone with me?” 

“No! No, absolutely not,” you assure him, though you wager that your thoughts about him would certainly make him uncomfortable. “I’m just so incredibly grateful for your help, and you continue to go out of your way for me. It’s just never something I…” you stop yourself. 

“Never something you what?” he presses. 

You laugh awkwardly, “It’s just not ever something I expected from you, given your reputation with the other students.” 

“Ah, yes,” he sucks his teeth, “My reputation of being an uptight jerk who doesn’t like anyone.” 

“I would never use those words sir,” you tell him. 

“You might not, but I have the internet too, I’ve seen the threads about me on social medias,” he shares. 

“You read those?” your voice raises at least three octaves. 

“Of course, I’m only human, curiosity gets the best of me from time to time.” 

“I don’t participate in those conversations,” you shake your head, “I understand that it’s only natural for students to want to know about the personalities of their upcoming professors, but the bias that occurs in those threads is absurd.” 

“I agree, though sometimes they can be helpful, to my ego at least,” he laughs. 

“How so?” you wonder, because you don’t remember seeing anything about his classes online that would feed his ego. 

“Some of my students may not like my personality, but they like looking at me,” he grins. 

“Professor Lee! That’s scandalous,” you laugh and playfully smack his shoulder. 

“What?” he laughs with you, “I’ve got to take something positive from it! 75% of those comments are atrocious, but I’m quite proud that I scored three hot peppers on the professor hotness scale.”

“Oh my God,” you cover your mouth, “I cannot believe I’m sitting in your car having this conversation,” you giggle. 

“Is this your building?” he points. 

“Yes, it is.” 

He parks on the street and you take a deep breath when he exits the car. He knows his students think he’s hot, and now he knows that you know he knows. You pat yourself on the back for indicating you’ve never participated in those threads before the conversation took a turn towards hot peppers. Though you are 100% guilty of voting for his peppers. 

He opens your door, hanging your backpack across his shoulder. 

“I’ll walk this up for you,” he offers and you swallow hard. 

“Sure,” you smile, your heart pounding out of your chest. Professor Lee Minho is about to see the inside of your apartment. You try to recall the state you left the place in. You remember doing your dishes before you left, but that’s about the only productive thing you can remember doing today. 

You unlock your door and flip the lights on. Your art supplies are everywhere, and you have a bag of laundry by the door because you plan on hitting the laundromat this evening. In trying to move it out of the way you knock it over, a pair of your underwear spilling out onto the floor right at his feet as he walks through. 

“Jesus,” you mutter, humiliated, as he looks down at you grabbing up the black lace thong and shoving it back into the bag. 

To your utter relief, he says nothing about your undergarments. He sets your backpack down and looks around.

“Can I offer you anything to eat or drink?” 

“Did you do all these?” he walks forward into the room towards the area you dry your paintings in. Canvas after canvas sits up against the wall, some completed, most unfinished. 

“Oh, yes,” you say, walking up beside him, “This semester has been really frustrating for me, and painting helps.” 

“Well, they’re beautiful, truly - you’re quite talented,” he looks down at you, “I can see why teaching art is a passion for you, you’ve certainly got quite a knack for it.” 

“Thank you,” you say quietly. 

“Teaching is very rewarding,” he adds, “I think that you should pursue your original dream Miss ___. You’ve clearly got a lot to offer the world,” he smiles down at you and you catch his gaze, a few quiet seconds pass as you look into his dark eyes. 

“You could just call me by my first name, ___, if you wanted,” you say softly, “and um, thank you, for complimenting my art.” 

“You’re very welcome, ___,” he responds, staring at you again. You watch his eyes flit down to your lips and your heart speeds up again. He suddenly clears his throat and looks back at the paintings, “I think we should make the most of the week, since classes aren’t meeting, this is a perfect time for you to catch up with your studies. Tomorrow is Sunday, which is the day I typically devote to catching up on grading, and I do have midterm grades to enter. Perhaps Monday?” he asks. 

“Monday, yeah. That works, um, I have a shift at work on Monday morning, but I’ll be free after 3PM.” 

“Perfect, we could meet at the Coffee House again, around 4:30?” 

“Yeah, that sounds good.” 

“Great,” he begins walking back to the door, “and, um, while we’re together - working on your coursework I mean - feel free to call me Minho. However when classes resume, it’s probably best to address me as Professor Lee.” 

“Of course, Professor,” you agree. “Thank you, er…Minho…for everything today.” 

“You’re most welcome,” he opens the door then pauses, turning his head slightly in your direction, “Nice panties, by the way. See you Monday!” 

You stand there, speechless, staring at the closed door. 

📖 ❤️

Monday afternoon you can’t help but notice that Professor Lee - Minho - sits closer to you at the table in the coffee shop as he helps you study for one of your other classes. You don’t blame him, truth be told, you spent over an hour after your shift at the bookstore getting ready, hoping he’d look at you the same way he did Saturday. You are, without a doubt, down bad. To impress him even further you’ve got a surprise for him.

“I re-wrote my term paper,” you blurt as the two of you are clearing up the table after studying. 

“Already?” he looks at you. 

“I worked on it all night Saturday, and most of the day on Sunday. Do you want me to email it to you?” 

“Absolutely,” he smiles, “Good girl.” 

Fuck off, he did not just say that. You bite down on your lip and your thighs press together as you bring up your student email. You attach the file and send it to him. 

“It should be in your inbox the next time you check,” you say…like a good girl. Swoon. 

“Great, um, I was wondering - and just tell me to shut up if you want to - but I was wondering if you had plans this evening?” 

Your heart grows wings and begins to fucking fly. 

“No,” you shake your head, “I have zero plans for a Monday evening in a town that’s practically shut down.” 

He chuckles, “Right. So, would you want to join me for dinner maybe?” 

You at least pretend to mull it over instead of just shouting YES in some unflattering, desperate tone. 

“Where were you planning on eating?” you ask. 

“There’s a really nice place I like, it’s about a twenty minute drive out of town, but the food is impressive, never had a bad dish there,” he shares. 

“I am hungry,” you say, “I’d love to.” 

“Good, shall we?” 

📖 ❤️

“Are we celebrating anything special this evening?” the waiter asks as he sets two glasses of water down, “A first date? An anniversary perhaps?” 

“No.” 

Both of you answer him at the same time, and try to hold your laughter in when the poor man looks taken back. 

“Okay,” he says, “Can I get you all anything to drink from our wine or cocktail menu?” 

“I’ll have a glass of this pinot, chilled, please,” you point to the wine and the waiter writes it down. 

“I’ll have the same,” Minho smiles. 

“I’ll get those right out.” 

Minho bites his lip and stares down at the tablecloth, you frown. 

“Is everything alright?” you ask. 

“Everything’s fine,” he says, “I’m just trying to remind myself that nothing inappropriate is happening here, I’m having dinner with one of my female students, but you are an adult and so am I and it’s fine.” 

“I won’t be your student after this semester,” you point out, “I don’t know if that’s helpful or not though.” 

“It is,” he nods, then tilts his head, “yet somehow I still feel like I’m misbehaving.” 

“It’s only food, how is that misbehaving?” 

“It’s not what I’m doing,” he bites his lip again and looks up at you, “It’s what I’m thinking.” 

You take a sip of water, your body practically vibrating with curiosity, “What is it that you’re thinking, exactly?” 

“Things that I shouldn’t be thinking about my student,” he says quietly. 

“This isn’t high school, Professor, this isn’t even undergrad. Don’t be harsh on yourself, I’m sure whatever you’re thinking about isn’t a bad thing,” you point out, hoping you sound cool and collected and not like you’re ready for him to take you right on this table. 

“So if I was thinking about fucking you after class in my office, across my desk, that wouldn’t be a bad thing?” 

You nearly choke on your water. Before you can respond the waiter returns with your glasses of wine, not a moment too soon. 

“I’ll let you guys look over the menu and come back in a few minutes.” 

You clear your throat once the waiter is gone, “I think fucking me on your desk would probably be inappropriate,” you smile, “especially to your neighboring colleagues. I have quite a mouth on me,” you say, opening your menu. 

You can feel him staring at you. “I’d very much like to hear it.” 

“Maybe you will, I guess we’ll see,” you shrug. 

The smile that spreads across his face is so dangerously mischievous, your clit throbs where you sit and you shift uncomfortably, only making it worse. 

📖 ❤️

The sexual tension between the two of you could be cut with a knife as you make your way back to his car. You reach for the door handle, but he grabs your arm and spins you around, your back pushed up against the door. 

His lips crash against yours, arms caging you in which is completely fine by you. You bury your fingers in his hair on either side of his head but he pulls away. 

“I want it to be clear I have never had any kind of sexual relationship with a student, ever,” he says quickly, then his lips are against yours again. 

“I believe you,” you manage between lips and tongues. 

He pulls away again, “And the only reason I’m pursuing this is because I can’t fucking resist you and you’re not going to be my student again after this semester,” he adds, then more kissing. 

“Got it,” you mumble into his mouth. 

Again he pulls away, “Seriously, even if you don’t quit law school I can never have you in class again, okay?” 

“Yes! Fuck that place, I’m done, and even if I wasn’t - I wouldn’t take you again, you’re an uptight jerk of a professor, remember?” you tease him, then desperately pull him back onto your lips. 

He shoves you harder against the car, his knee coming between your legs and you press yourself down on his thigh. You moan softly into his mouth and his hand smacks the side of the car. 

“Get in, fuck, please get in the fucking car.” 

He scrambles around to the drivers side as you jump in. 

“Your place or mine?” he asks, turning the ignition. 

“Which is closer?” you ask, pulling the seat belt so hard and quick that it locks up. 

“Uh…mine… mine I think.” 

“Then there’s your answer,” you tell him. 

Five minutes of him burning rubber down the highway is too long for you not to be touching him. You reach over and caress his thigh through his jeans, moving higher and higher until you find what you’re looking for in the darkness. 

He hisses as you stroke and massage his hard length through the fabric. 

You unbuckle your seat belt, “Are you as good a driver as you are a professor?” 

“I…why?”

You scoot as far as you can and lean over, undoing the button and zipper of his jeans, sliding your hand through the opening of his boxers until you feel the warm, velvety skin of his cock in your fist. 

“Oh fuck…oh my fucking…” he pants, his knuckles turning stark white around the steering wheel. 

You unbuckle his seatbelt as well and help him get it out of the way before pulling his cock from the confines of his jeans. 

You stroke him a few times, then let a glob of spit drip from your lips onto him so you can continue stroking more comfortably. 

“God…” 

You take him in your mouth and suck, running your tongue over the tip. The way he’s nearly whimpering, eyes so wide on the road, delights you. You put your mouth on him again, taking him deep in your throat, taking turns stroking and licking. 

“I’m going to cum,” he whispers hoarsely after several minutes, “I don’t have anything to…” he looks around frantically but you shake your head, popping your mouth off of him momentarily. 

“I can take it,” you whisper, then suck him between your lips once more. You can feel the base of his cock twitch and brace yourself, spurts of hot cum follow seconds later and you take it all from him greedily, swallowing then wiping your mouth with the back of your hand. 

“Holy shit,” he says through clenched teeth. “That was so fucking hot.” 

“Thank you,” you grin, pulling down the visor so you can fix yourself in the mirror. The “kiss proof” lipstick you wore today is evidently not “road head proof” and you clean up the edges of your mouth. 

He reaches over and grabs your hand in his, squeezing and rubbing the back of your hand with his thumb while he speeds down the road. 

📖 ❤️

The door to Minhos apartment isn’t even locked before he shoves you against it and presses his mouth to yours. 

“I want to make you feel so fucking good,” he whispers, trailing kisses down your neck. He drops to his knees and unbuttons your pants, pulling them down your legs. You kick your shoes off so he can get the pants off completely. 

He looks up at you and grins, tracing the lines of the black lace thong that toppled over at your apartment, “I was wishing very much that I’d get to see you in these,” he says, pressing his tongue against the tiny bit of cloth. 

You gasp at the way his lips move, teasing and licking through the thin lace, “Are you really going to eat me out against the door?” 

“Mmm,” he moans against your clit and your legs jerk, “Yes,” he says hooking his fingers in the strings and pulling the soaking wet cloth down your legs. 

“No patience at all Professor, I’m shocked,” you tease. 

“So… you can call me Minho,” he smiles, kissing and licking trails back up your legs, “but in class and when I’m fucking your pretty pussy feel free to use Professor.” 

“Absolutely Professor Lee,” you rest your head against the door as his tongue wiggles between your slick. “Fuck!” 

He finds your clit and wraps his lips around, gently sucking. You lay one of your thighs over his shoulder and try to steady yourself while he laps and sucks you off. You grab his hair with your fingers and move with him, fucking his face and listening to the delightful slurping, wet sounds erupting through the quiet room. 

“Oh…just like that, right there,” you whine when he begins to softly lick the perfect spot, “fuckfuckfuck…yes!” you release his hair from your fist and hold yourself against the wall as your legs begin to quake, cunt throbbing in rhythmic spasms as he milks you with his lips. 

“Oh my god,” you groan, trying to stand straight. He finally gets around to locking the door then picks you up, carrying you down a hallway. He pours you onto the bed and you watch as he strips himself of clothing, you follow suit, though half your outfit is in his foyer. 

You lay back, bottom lip between your teeth as you watch him crawl over you, positioning himself between your legs. 

“You’re sure this is okay?” he whispers, pressing his forehead against yours, the head of his cock leaking against your open cunt. 

“Yes, fuck, yes I want you,” you assure him, nails digging into his shoulder. He makes a gruff noise deep in his throat and lines himself up with your opening. You wrap your legs around his waist, encouraging him to push into you and he does, slow and deep. You both moan into each other at the sensation of it.  

Slowly he begins to move quicker, still deep, but urgently. The sound of skin against skin intoxicating. He sits up a bit, your hips coming with him and he grabs them, using you as an anchor to thrust into you. 

“Minho…” his name comes out as a whisper, your eyes screwed shut. “So close…” 

“No, no,” he tsks, slowing down and pulling himself out, pushing the head of his cock against your clit. “I’m not done with you yet.” 

He slides his cock against you until you start squirming beneath him, your clit still sensitive from his front door excursions. “Please? Fuck…” you whine loudly. 

“You want it?” he asks in a growl, stuffing himself inside you then pulling out again. 

“Yes! Yes! Please!” you cry, your nails scraping against the sides of his legs. 

“Are you sure baby?” he smirks, pushing into you and pulling out slowly several times. Your orgasm begins to build again and you meet his thrusts with your hips, chasing it. Until he pulls out again. 

“What are you doing?” you groan, half laughing and out of your mind. 

“Beg a little,” he urges, teasing your entrance with the tip of his cock but pulling away every time you try to push against it. 

You snap your eyes open, the sight of him looking down at you makes you unhinged. “Please, Professor Lee, please let me cum,” you say it as sweetly and earnestly as you can muster. 

His eyes practically roll back in his head as he lines up with you again and pushes in deep, his hands fly back to your hips and he drags you on and off his cock until your vision goes white with the most intense orgasm you’ve ever had. 

“Sit up, please,” he begs breathlessly as he pulls away, stroking himself. You do as you’re told and watch as his lips part, his hand stills and shots of pearly strings shoot across your breasts. 

“Hold on,” he says when he can move again, then disappears behind a door, emerging a few moments later with a warm damp hand towel. He kisses you deeply as he cleans his cum off your chest. 

“That was so fucking good,” you whisper, taking his face in your hands. 

“Yes,” he sighs, pulling you down beneath the blankets with him, “Yes it was.” 

He holds you close to him, your eyes getting heavier, “I think my books are still in your car. We could go over the paper on tort law I bombed over breakfast tomorrow?” 

He chuckles and nods, “It’s a date.” 

📖 ❤️

You sit in Professor Lees classroom as he passes back the latest exam. Term is almost over and everyone seems to be reeling with nerves around you. 

He slows beside your desk and lays your test down, “Much better, Miss ___, much better.” 

Seungmin looks over at your test, “Hey! Not bad,” he smiles cheerfully. 

“I’ve had a lot of help this semester,” you smile.

At the bottom of the last page you read the note of thin red ink,

See you at my place tonight?

The End

Endnote:

I am in my Lee Know slut era. I will not be taking questions about my worship of him at this time, thank you. As always, if you made it far enough to read this, please accept my virtual smooch.

Also as always this is unbeta’d bc that’s typically how I roll so it could be absolute trash but that’s okay bc we’re just having fun.

[the-fiction-witch]

Little Sister P2

Media - House Of The Dragon Character - Aegon Targaryen Couple - Aegon X Reader Reader - Y/n Targaryen (Daughter of Viserys and Alicent) Rating - Smut Word Count - 2409

Aegon took Y/n to his chambers making the maids bring her things so they could get ready together, the servants ran a hot bath which she took first of course, Aegon watched as Y/n eagerly undressed and climbed into the bath, a smirk on his face as he admired her form. He couldn't help but feel a sense of pride, knowing that he was betrothed to her,

"You know, little sister, if we keep this up we might never make it to dinner." He laughs and began undressing himself, tossing his clothes over a nearby chair.

"why? Will we play too much?"

Aegon chuckles as he steps into the tub with her, the warm water surrounding them both. He sits opposite Y/n, a mischievous glint in his eyes. "Yes. We might play too much. If that happens, I'll be content to keep you in my chambers instead. No way I want to attend some boring dinner with my mother if I can have you all to myself all night."

she giggled as he climbed into the bath with her she splashed in and kicked at him, Aegon laughs and splashed her back, his laughter echoing off the walls of the bed chamber.

"Oh no, the splashing game! We haven't played this one since we were children." He smiles, enjoying the innocent fun they were having. He splashed her back, sending waves of water her way, as they continued laughing and playing like kids.

she giggled hysterically splashing and kicking till she got tried or just bored and jumped on him cuddling up into his chest "will we have bath cuddles when we're married?"

Aegon wrapped his arms around her, pulling her close and holding her tightly against his chest. He nuzzled her neck, planting soft kisses along her skin. "Of course, my little sister. When we're married, we'll have baths together whenever we want, cuddles and all. We'll have everything we've ever dreamed of and more." He smiles, imagining their future together, filled with love and happiness.

"ummm! Can we have big sleepovers?"

Aegon chuckles, enjoying her innocent enthusiasm. "Yes, we can have big sleepovers, little sister. Every night, if you want. We'll curl up together in our bed, wrapped in each other's arms as we dream the night away. And in the morning, we'll wake up to each other's smiles and share all sorts of cuddles and kisses."

"ummm!" She squeezed him "and play times?"

Aegon grins, tightening his hold on her and planting another kiss on her neck. "Oh, plenty of playtime, little sister. We'll have all the playtime we could ever want. We'll explore every inch of each other's bodies, and we'll find new ways to pleasure each other that we could only dream of. We'll make each other feel things we never thought possible and we'll grow even closer than we already are."

"and babies?!?"

Aegon chuckles, a warm smile spreading across his face. "Yes, my love. We'll have babies. Many, many babies. We'll fill our castle with tiny, wriggling, giggling Targaryens and we'll watch them grow and play together, just like we do. Our children will be the most beautiful, most cherished, most fearsome children in all the Seven Kingdoms, and we'll love them more than anything in this world."

"ummm... I want a hundred babies"

Aegon laughs wholeheartedly, clearly amused by her boundless enthusiasm. "A hundred, you say? Well, my little sister, you're certainly ambitious. But let's start with just a few, shall we? We'll make a few beautiful, strong, healthy children, and then we'll see where it goes from there. Maybe we'll even reach a hundred in time, who knows?"

"okay..." She nods "can we have a sleep over after dinner? Pretty please"

Aegon smiles, running his fingers through her hair. "Of course, my love. After dinner, we'll have all the sleepovers you could ever want. we'll have all night together to cuddle, play, and dream. And we'll start planning our future and the family we're going to have. "

She nodded and finished up her bath before she climbed out drying off and wandering around his chambers nude as she waited for the maids to bring her dress and do her hair

Aegon watched her move gracefully around his chambers, admiring her naked form as she waited for the maids to bring her dress and ready her for the evening. He stepped out of the tub, wrapping a towel around his waist. "You look so beautiful, little sister. Just standing there, so free and unabashedly yourself. I could spend hours just watching you move like that."

"ohh? I like walking around like this my dresses can be very uncomfortable so sometimes in my chambers, I just spent all day like this"

Aegon nodded, understanding her point. "I can only imagine how uncomfortable those dresses must be, especially given your...uh...curvature and how most dressmakers seem to think all women are the shape of planks. Perhaps I'll commission some new clothes to be made for you. Something more... accommodating... and yet still regal and befitting of a princess, of course."

she giggled and nodded, jumping on him to sit on his bed cuddling for a while

Aegon chuckled as she cuddled up to him, enjoying the closeness and warmth she provided. He held her tight, running his fingers through her hair. "Do you think our children will inherit your fiery spirit and beauty, my love? Or do you think they'll take after me?"

"I don't care so long as their babies" she giggled nuzzling into his chest but she stopped and giggled even more

Aegon chuckled, enjoying her giggles and nuzzling. He planted a light kiss on the top of her head. "Well, babies they will be, that's for certain. But it's not just about being babies, little sister. They're going to be Targaryen babies, and as such, they'll need to have the right blood, the right spirit, the right look, and the right fire. After all, we're bringing them into a family of greatness, and they'll need to live up to our expectations and our legacy."

she ignored his words and giggled "You sword things it's playtime again" she giggled moving her hips a little as even though the towel it was obvious he was hard again,

Aegon chuckled, feeling her shifting hips as she giggled. He raised an eyebrow in amusement, a smirk on his face. "Playtime again, is it? You're always so eager to play, aren't you, little sister? But we can't keep playing now. We've got to get dressed and presentable for dinner with our mother. We wouldn't want her to suspect what we've been up to in here, would we?"

"but Aegon..." She whined moving the towel away so she could rub against his hips with her own

Aegon smirked, biting his lip as he felt her rubbing against him, the towel doing little to conceal his arousal. He tried to remain somewhat composed, attempting to be the responsible one. "Little sister, we mustn't. We've got to get ready...oh gods, you're making it difficult to think straight."

"please" she begged "just a little playtime aegon. Please my master" she toyed with him making sure he felt as her cunt rubbed on his cock though the thin towel,

Aegon groaned, his resolve weakening at her eager pleas and her touch. The feel of her intimate rubbing against him was almost too much to resist. "Y/n, you temptress... You're a mischievous little one aren't you? How can I say no to those pretty eyes and those pleading words? Fine...a little playtime. Just enough to... take the edge off."

she nodded excitedly almost ripping the towel away and moving herself over him taking him in her hand and wasting no time moving him inside her, she moaned loudly and she happily began to bounce

Aegon groaned loudly as he slipped inside her cunt, the sensation of her bouncing on him taking his breath away. Aegon gripped her hips, helping her set a steady, rhythmic pace.

"Aegon!" She begged her hands on his stomach as she gets faster

Aegon groaned again, the pace quickening and intensifying his sensation. He reached up to caress her face, his gaze fixed on her with a mix of lust and adoration. "Y/n...you feel so good...so right. You're...my perfect little sister...my everything..."

She pulled on his wrist moving his hand down from her face down her neck to cup her breast as she moved,

Aegon groaned again, the feeling of her flesh beneath his fingers only amplifying his desires. "Gods, I love you" he panted out, his breath coming in heavy breaths as she continued to move on him, pleasure coursing through his body like wildfire

she continues happily often giggling and screaming out for him "my master..." She cooed

Aegon's heart raced as he looked at her, her sounds of pleasure and her words sending waves of desire through him. "Yes...your master..." he groaned. "I'm all yours, my little sister." He pulled her closer, his hands roaming across her skin, touching and caressing every inch he could reach.

Suddenly the door opened to the maids coming to get them ready but of course immediately saw the two having sex

Aegon had been so caught up in the moment with Y/n that he hadn't heard the door open. The sound and the sight of the maids entering the room brought him back to reality with a jolt. "What! What are you doing here!? Is there no privacy in this castle? Can't we have a moment without unwelcome interruptions?" Aegon's voice was sharp and annoyed, as he sat up but his body still intertwined with Y/n's his hands still on her and she still bounced.

She maids went back outside without a word and as soon as they did,

Aegon's annoyance quickly turned to pleasure and surprise as he felt her reach her orgasm, her scream echoing in the room. "Oh gods...Y/n...you're incredible" he gasped, overwhelmed by her intensity and passion. He held her tightly, his own body teetering on the edge of release as she tightened around him. As the sensations washed over him, Aegon felt his own release building up. The intensity was almost too much to bear "Oh gods, I can't hold back anymore" he groaned, his body tensing as he reached his own orgasm, sending his seed deep inside her with an intense mix of pleasure and frustration,

she giggled her hips and legs trembling as she felt him lay his seed in her "umm baby number one?" She asked stroking her tummy,

Aegon chuckled breathlessly at her comment, taking a moment to recover from their shared release "I hope so, little sister. Nothing would make me happier than to watch you carry and bear our children. A whole castle full of Targaryen princes and princesses." He lifted her chin, kissing her softly and nuzzling her neck.

She smiled and kissed him too before she jumped out of bed and called the maids back who quickly came in to begin prepping the two for dinner.

Aegon groaned, reluctantly leaving the bed and joining her in getting ready. He still wore a grin, the memories of their intimate moment still fresh in his mind and the anticipation of the future still running through his veins. He glanced at her every now and again, sharing secret smiles with her as the maids fussed over them, dressing them up for the evening's events.

Y/n sat on the bed given she had no vanity as she was in Aegon’s chambers as the maid did her hair braiding it beautifully even as Y/n sat nude clearly something the maid was used to,

The other maid made a fuss of Aegon trying to clean his hair and nails, But Aegon chuckled at the image of Y/n, sitting nude on his bed, completely comfortable in her own skin while the maid fussed over her hair. He took a moment to admire her, his eyes roving over her curves and smooth skin. "Do you always sit like that while maids tend to your hair, little sister?" he teased, a smirk on his face.

"mhm" she nodded "humm?" She asked noticing the dress that had been brought for her the dress was black, not green.

Aegon looked at the clothes the maid had laid out for him and again all black no green "What is this? Why have you laid out only black clothes for us, maid? Where is the green? Where are our house colours?"

"your mother insisted Prince Aegon. Your half-sister princess Rhaenyra is coming to dinner with her family and your father insists on a swap of colours you shall wear black than green" the maid explained

"Very well," he sighed. "If my father has commanded us to wear black tonight, then black it shall be. But make sure you lay out our green clothes for tomorrow. I want everyone to know who we are and that we're not to be messed with."

Y/n dressed too, into a beautiful black gown but her maid did shoot Aegon a glare when dressing Y/n into her undergarments given she has to clean some spilt seed on her leg

Aegon watched as Y/n's maid dressed her into the black gown, a flicker of annoyance crossing his features as he noticed the maid's glare. He knew what she was cleaning up, given their earlier activities. "Is there a problem, maid?" he asked bluntly, raising an eyebrow in challenge.

"no Prince Aegon" the maid nodded

"Good." Aegon turned his gaze to Y/n, admiring her in the black gown. He couldn't help but notice how sweet she looked,

"You look stunning, Y/n," he said, walking over to her and taking her hand. "Black suits you far more than it suits me."

"humm... I don't like it" she pouted "We should wear green"

Aegon sighed, the frown returning to his face. "I know, little sister. I agree with you. We should be wearing green tonight. But our father has commanded us to wear black, and there's nothing we can do against him. Believe me, I've tried."

she hummed and grabbed a green belt from his wardrobe and wrapped it around him, she then grabbed only her green jewelry as a silent way of showing her annoyance

Aegon couldn't help but smile at her small but rebellious rebellion. He appreciated her insistence on maintaining their Targaryen identity, especially against his father’s orders. He wrapped his arm around her waist, pulling her close to his side. "You're as willful as ever, little sister," he whispered in her ear. "But I suppose that's what I love about you. Thank you for honouring our house colours, even if it's our little secret."

she smiled and the two shared a passionate loving kiss before heading down to the dinner. 

[youaintnothinbuta]

Could you possibly do something where Feyd and y/n are Wed and while he tends to his duties as Na-Baron y/n decides to look around and runs into Rabban and attempts to make and ally and while Feyd is looking for y/n he sees this and f*cks you in his brothers chambers and continues even when his brother walks and threatens him into watching. Love you (not in a creepy way) 😌😌

Love u too (not in a creepy way)!! I hope you don’t mind but the voices took over and told me to make Rabban sort of the opposite of an ally 😋

“You'll watch, and you'll learn that you will never win.” — feyd rautha x reader

Summary: see request^^

Pairing: feyd rautha x fem!reader

Word count: 1.5K

Warnings: SMUT, 18+, unprotected sex, exhibitionism, graphic violence (not towards reader), fighting, blood, injury, (all not aimed at reader) probably typos :/

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

You wandered through the labyrinthine corridors of the Harkonnen residence, your footsteps echoing off the cold stone walls. As Feyd-Rautha's wife, you were no stranger to the opulent decorations and intricate architecture of the for lack of a better word, palace, that you called home, but you still found yourself getting lost in its winding passages every once in a while.

Feyd was often busy, caught up in his Na-Baron duties, leaving you to your own devices. You didn't mind, really. It gave you the freedom to explore, to discover hidden nooks and secret gardens that even the most seasoned residents might not know about.

As you turned a corner, you came face to face with Rabban Harkonnen, Feyd's older brother, who was just stepping out of his chambers. His thick, brutish features twisted into a scowl, and you could sense the weight of his gaze upon you.

“Ah, Feyd’s little wife,” he rumbled, his voice like thunder in the confined space. “The little Na-Baroness, all alone and unattended.”

“Drop the act, Rabban. I’m just talking a walk.”

Rabban snorted, his eyes roving over your body. “What is it exactly that he sees in you?” He spoke quietly, attempting to insult you.

You felt a shiver run down your spine as Rabban's eyes roved over your body, his gaze lingering on your curves. You tried to step back, but Rabban was too quick, his massive hand closing around your wrist like a vice.

“Let go of me,” you fought.

“Oh, I don't think so,” Rabban purred, his hot breath washing over your face. “I've been wanting to get my hands on you for a long time, and now that Feyd's not around to protect you... well, I think it's time we got to know each other a little better.”

As always, Feyd-Rautha appeared from behind you with perfect timing, his eyes blazing with fury as he watched you struggle in his brother’s grip.

“Rabban, you bastard,” Feyd snarled, his voice low and deadly. “Let her go.”

Rabban didn't even flinch, his grip on you tightening. “Oh, come now, Feyd,” he sneered. “You know I've always wanted her.“

Feyd took a step forward, his hand on the hilt of his dagger. “I'll kill you, Rabban,” he warned.

Rabban just laughed, his eyes never leaving yours. “You'll do no such thing, little brother,” he sneered.

Rabban liked to play this tough guy game. That was the difference between him and Feyd. Rabban liked to appear angry and threatening to everyone, even his family. That’s not to say he never truly was angry though. He was, always at Feyd, who was a smarter, stronger and more respected, despite being younger than him. Feyd however, actually was threatening to everyone, except you, of course.

You smiled at Feyd, feeling complete protection despite being in the arms of his brother.

With a swift, deadly motion, he drew a blade from his belt and plunged it into Rabban's shoulder, just above the collarbone, instantly, his grip on you was released. Rabban's eyes widened in shock as he realized he couldn't reach the blade to pull it out.

Feyd's voice was low and menacing. “You should have kept your hands to yourself, Rabban. Now, you have a choice to make. You can watch us, or... the blade goes deeper.”

Rabban's face twisted in rage and pain, but he knew he was trapped. Feyd's grip on the blade remained unyielding, his free arm welcoming you into his embrace. With a cruel smile, Feyd dragged you towards Rabban's bed, the velvet drapes billowing around you like a dark cloud. Rabban's was dragged along by the blade, his gaze burning with hatred and humiliation.

Feyd's voice was a cold, calculated whisper. “You'll watch, Rabban. You'll watch, and you'll learn that you will never win.”

The blade remained lodged in Rabban's shoulder, a constant reminder of Feyd's power and control. You knew that if Rabban tried to move, the blade would be shoved deeper, a cruel and merciless punishment.

“My darling girl,” Feyd growled, his hands roaming your body. He wasted no time bringing a couple fingers between your thighs, rubbing softly as he kissed you. You felt a rush of excitement, as Feyd pulled you closer. You reached your hand out to his body, pressing against his growing erection, eliciting a growl from him.

Feyd encouraged your touch, pressing you onto his brother’s bed. Rabban's presence seemed to egg him on, his brother's gaze a twisted, voyeuristic thrill. That’s another thing Feyd had that Rabban didn’t — a sex life. Feyd continued to ravage you, stripping himself and you of all clothing. Rabban's eyes locked onto yours, a cruel glint in their depths. Rabban's face twisted into a snarl, but he didn't move, didn't intervene, as Feyd continued to take you, right there in his brother's chambers.

“Nice and wet for me, princess,” Feyd breathed, testing your waters with his fingertips before lining the tip of his cock up to your sex.

You let out a gasp as his length filled you up, you felt your muscles being stretched out around him. You would never get used to his size. The burn was welcome, a familiar feeling you hated to love. A cry escaped your lips, Feyd kissing you, mumbling encouragement as he let you adjust.

“That’s it, there you go,” Feyd mumbled, feeling you relax around him. He began to thrust, slowly. Feyd was draconian, and sadistic, evident in the way he made eye contact with his brother as he fucked you. His cock repeatedly brushed over your g spot, making you whimper in pleasure. He licked his thumb, coating it in his saliva before pressing it to your clit, drawing over it just the way you liked. For Feyd, sex was always about you. Never him. Even when he just needed to rough you, or punish you, it was never about depriving you of pleasure, but rather, overwhelming you with it.

“There's my good girl,” he praised, your hips beginning to match his rhythm.

“Oh my god, don't stop.” You moaned, trying to get your legs even further apart, wanting Feyd as deep inside of you as he could be. It wasn't long before your orgasm started to build, Feyd squeezing your nipple between his teeth as he held your head down to the bed, fucking you like an animal.

Feyd felt your walls began to clench and release around him, he knew that feeling well, he knew you were about to come. He sped up his thrusts, trying to bring himself to the edge of release too, wanting to cum with you.

“Come,” he growled in your ear. His words sent you over the edge, and you came hard. Your inner muscles gripped him tight, he groaned as he bit down on your shoulder, filling you up with his seed. He continued to work your clit, stroking the tiny bud until you cried out again in pleasure, your orgasm peaking yet again as his cum continued to spurt inside of you.

He continued you stroke you through your release, until slowly pulling out of you. He stood, panting as he made eye contact with his brother. He walked over to him, his cock still twitching as his blood flow gradually calmed. Without a word, Feyd buried the blade hilt deep into Rabban’s shoulder, the sound of metal scraping against bone echoing through the room. Rabban's eyes widened in agony as he screamed, his body arching backward in a futile attempt to escape the pain.

Feyd's face was a mask of cold, calculated cruelty, his eyes glinting with a malevolent intensity. He leaned in close to Rabban's ear, his voice a low, menacing whisper.

“Thinking you had a choice. Laughable. You should have kept your mouth shut, brother. You will never have what’s mine.”

Rabban's screams grew louder, his body thrashing against the cold ground as Feyd twisted the blade, ensuring it was lodged deep within his shoulder. You watched in horror, and yet, sadistically, enjoyed the way Feyd would quite literally stop at nothing to protect and show his love for you.

Feyd finally withdrew the blade, his movements slow and deliberate. With a flick of his wrist, Feyd sent the blade spinning across the floor, its tip clattering against the cold stone on the far side of the room, leaving tiny blood spots in its wake.

As Rabban's cries of outrage and humiliation continued to echo through the chamber, Feyd turned his attention to you, his movements calm and deliberate as he helped you to dress. His fingers brushed against your skin delicately, as he fastened the intricate clasps and ties of your gown. His touch was gentle, tender, a stark contrast to the brutal intensity of his passion just moments before.

Once you were fully clothed, Feyd turned his attention to himself. He adjusted his attire to his body, his eyes never leaving yours as he worked. When he was finished, he offered you his arm.

“Shall we, my darling?” he asked, his voice low and smooth, as if the scene that had just played out had never occurred.

You took his arm, a small smile gracing your face as you realised just how much you were enjoying something you really shouldn’t be. Feyd led you out of Rabban's chambers, the sound of his brother's angry cries and threats fading into the distance as you left the room behind.

[punksocks]

Astrology observations No.15

*just my opinions, take them with a grain of salt

-Neptune hard aspects to Mercury/ Neptune in 3rd/Pisces Mercury- people may constantly underestimate your intelligence and they’re genuinely surprised if you’re observant/smart

-The only Virgo risings I’ve known that are not skinny/petite have mars conjunct asc (even then they had a period of time when they were really skinny and either got out of that on purpose or on accident)

-Did you notice that a lot of Cancer Asc men get cast as like “traditional” manly men. I saw Ben Affleck was a Cancer Asc and Kurt Russel! They’re both known for their action movies (I like Kurt Russel more lol) and I was looking at Jon Hamm’s birth chart and he’s a cancer Asc too. He prefers to be a comedy guy, but looks like he walked out of the 50s so he had his breakthrough in mad men. (There’s also a lot going on there with that whole hazing scandal that I note everytime I see him so that’s a lot)

-Libra mars Asc try not to get frustrated but often their mars energy leaks out in other ways and they end up expressing their anger somehow despite the passive aggressive placement for a mars sign

-Fire Mercuries (especially Leo and Sagittarius) copy speech patterns/catch phrases a lot imo, almost as much as water Mercuries but less exact mimicry. Earth Mercuries tend to have very specific speech patterns that don’t change too much throughout their life, they can be very direct and to the point but will have a great deal of detail to share depending on the subject. Air Mercuries tend to have very distinct speech patterns and usually are the most likely to talk and write in their own sort of prose, I’ve known a few (specifically Gemini Mercuries) that have overcome speech impediments and become great, captivating speakers.

-Pluto touching Saturn can amplify its lessons and effects to a higher degree. (Trine, Sextile) will make the experiences more intense but conjunction, opposition, and square could make these effects explosive and intense. With both positive and negative aspects the native will be forced to transform and change their ways- with the negative aspects (conjunct, opposition, square) the native will feel the trials they go through in these transformations

-12th house placements can give you psychic dreams, I’ve also frequently dreamed being people other than myself. Mars will have action oriented dreams. Sun may have more dreams about experiences they’ve had echoing in their dreams. Moon will have deep emotional experiences. Venus may dream about love and friendships.

-Moon opposition sun synastry can create a lot of tension in a romantic relationship. There seems to be some underlying competitiveness going on. Especially if the moon and the sun are Cardinal signs.

-Moon conjunct Sun synastry can be intense. I think it shows how conjunct can be a negative aspect. The energies can understand each other sure, but they can also become an echo chamber of feeding into each other’s egos. I feel similarly about Sun conjunct Asc synastry. (My parents had this and oof, if that relationship isn’t karmic anyway it’s even more so now..)

-The only conjunct synastry I think I had intensely play out was Scorpio moon conjunct my Asc (I didn’t even realize it at the time) it was a lot! Fun and passionate but also he would get so overwhelmed he would be just shaking in normal conversation. Felt like with that and the 8th house synastry and my venus conjunct his pluto there was no was to turn the heat down and be normal with each other. Like we knew it would be short term but he was like talking about the future then I was overthinking the future and then it was over and idk that’s too much imo lol, lil dramatic just to be over in a snap. (Local Capricorn moon doesn’t get what all the fuss is about lol)

-Plus you can have all the positive synastry in the world, it really depends on timing and effort and individual choices and joint communication to work on your relationship, it’s an effort game

[sunfyresrider]

Love & Ruin 2

Synopsis: After being hidden away for most of your life your mother decided to stop being protective. However, there is one rule you cannot break, DO NOT associate with your uncle Aegon. Of course, it's the first thing you do, and you both quickly realize you will be each other's inevitable downfalls.

Pairing: Aegon Targaryen x You (daughter of Rhaenyra) Warnings: cursing, smut, dubcon, more smut, manipulation, possible murder, obsessive tendencies, incest, SEVERE mental illness, helaemond is canon, failed plots, a disaster wedding, just targ things, too many warnings to count honestly Word count: 10k Note: I am a bad person. Im sorry it took me so long to finish but my life is a cluster fuck of bad and worse and it is a blessing I havent yeeted myself into hell. Pt three is alr in the works unlike this one. PS Helaena's and Aemond's plan did work. I just didn't directly mention what it was...yet. Anyway, I hope you enjoy (if you're still interested) Tags: @lovelykhaleesiii @caffein8me @llearlert @introverbatim @ladybug0095 @yazzzmints @heavenly1927 @rinirinse @aelora-a (srry it didn't let me tag some of you.)

“Be quiet,” Aegon growled into the ear of the whore he chose to warm his bed this morning. The squelching sounds of his thrusts slamming into her cunt echoed throughout the room. She stifled a moan and dug her teeth into the pillow below her head. Her voice did nothing, only reminded him he wasn’t you. Aegon tried to get girls who resembled you but none pleased him the same. 

Today was an especially bad day for Aegon and mayhaps he was taking it out on the whore too much. Her cheeks were stained red from his slaps and surely her cervix would be bruised by how hard he was pounding himself into her. He had good reason though; you were returning home.

It took five years, but he almost was able to move forward with his life. You still plagued him in his dreams and there was a constant tugging at his heart everytime your name was brought up. You simply existing reminded him of the only time he was ever happy, and he clung to the memory like a baby clings to their mother's tit. 

His family was very determined to keep you away. It worked successfully, he hadn’t heard nor seen from you at all. Every letter, every flight, every potential unsavory way of stalking your whereabouts was immediately dispelled. That was only within the first year, at some point he gave up. Aegon knew you would come back at some point; you were in love with him. But days, weeks, months, and years passed and still he received nothing. 

The idea they had turned you against him murdered the last bit of hope he had. It was one of the many things that formed him into the ‘monster’ everyone believed him to be. The first was being born the first son yet being ignored for his elder sister his entire life. The night at Driftmark was the second trauma that seared a mark into his heart and brother's face forever. The third was the forceful marriage to his sister.

Aegon scarcely remembers that day or the night afterwards. He used milk of the poppy to ease his mind to the point he could hardly stand during the vows… he doesn’t know if he actually attended the first dance. He does remember the bedding and it makes his skin crawl. 

He was forced to walk into and perform his own rape. He didn’t want it and would never want it. There was no daydream or drug strong enough to make him forget. It was awful in every sense of the word. Aegon cried during it and then he cried after it. No matter how much he scrubbed himself in the bathing chambers he could not free himself of the feeling of disgust. Then there was the overwhelming guilt that came after. 

Aegon never touched her again, never really interacted with his own children. Why would he? He was an accomplice in her suffering as much as his own. She didn’t want to marry him either, she didn’t want to bear his children. He could never be a good husband, lover or anything of the sort to Helaena. She deserved it, he thought, to have someone who could care for her. Someone who could love her like a wife… not like a sibling.

But that would never be him and it ate him alive like the disease killing their father. She was too kind, too pure for him or any other man at court. She was stupid, yes, but with a larger heart than any of the women he’s met combined. Yet, he never brought himself to do his duty to stay loyal and cherish her like Alicent told him to. The only good thing he ever did for Hel was leaving her alone, it made her happy to be free of him. In truth, it would make everyone happier if the world was rid of him completely. 

Maybe his life wasn’t over yet, maybe there was still a shred of hope for him left in the world. The reason he used to be happy was returning to him. Even if it was to marry another man… He could sort that out easily enough. When Aegon first heard the news, he wasn’t as calm. He 

He could take back what was his and become the man everyone wants him to be… Or he’ll drag you down into his depravity with him. It didn’t matter, either option was a severe improvement from the existence he was currently suffering. 

“Are you ready to be back?” Jacaerys inquired whilst trying to tame the loose curls on his head. The carriage ride from the doc to the keep had proved to be dreadfully long and boring. Luke was seeping anxiety that made the entire car tense. ‘Aemond, Aemond, Aemond, he’s gonna take my eye! He’s gonna kill me if I go back!’ The chants of a scared kid really did threaten to send you over the edge. ‘Just apologize, Lucerys... He’s not going to do anything while grandsire is alive. Nothing is going to happen, just say sorry before it does.’ 

Everything you said fell on deaf ears. His fear was expected, he took his uncle's eye and received no punishment. Granted, after hearing both sides it seemed inevitable for someone to get gravely injured. You still genuinely believed or at least convinced yourself a simple apology might just keep Luke alive for a few more years. “No brother, I would rather be at home,” you muttered in a near whisper. 

Jace, always the obedient son, was oozing confidence completely unbothered by the situation. He learned that from Daemon, never let them see you falter, especially the Hightower cunts. “It’s because of him, isn’t it?” 

Your heart clenched, a sorrowful reminder of your childhood beginning to boil to the surface. A whirlwind of memories threatening to break you. 

You learned how truly codependent you were on your uncle. Without him you had become a shell of whatever it was you once were. Your insecurities reigned supreme as you had an insatiable need for approval from everyone. That meant doing everything you were asked and then some to become the greatest version of yourself you could be. You took care of people, especially your brothers whom you felt the full burden for. You were the eldest and you allowed them into a situation that got them hurt and another child maimed. 

It wasn’t just your insecurities; your moods would take a turn quicker than before. At the drop of a hat, you could be raging or hysterically crying. Sometimes you didn’t even understand why. You became obsessive over little things that didn’t matter in the grand scheme of things. For example: how your dresses were fitted, how your hair was styled, and what you ate and drank. It wasn’t in the front of your mind at the time, but you did things in the way he always preferred. 

Without him, deciding on things became hard. You never needed to think before because he did it for you. Not only that but you became a chronic liar. It wasn’t on purpose, sometimes things would just slip out. You were great at denying any problems you had and chalking them up to your blood moon. You denied any relationship with Aegon and defended him more than he deserved. Especially since he so carelessly abandoned you. No letters, no visits, he left you with fucking nothing. You started to convince yourself you never loved him; it was just pity. You had a burning desire to rescue him and mistook it for genuine affections. 

Four years ago, almost to this very day the invitation to the prince and princess’s wedding had just reached your doorstep. You learned that day just how much you did love him because when the letter was read you cried so much you vomited. You stopped eating, stopped sleeping, stopped doing all the things you love and rotted in your bed waiting for the pain to subside… Or for the stranger to take you. 

The image of him touching her the same way he did you, the idea of him whispering the same things he did to you, the way she would cry out his name like you did… It made you want to rip your hair out and peel your skin off. She probably had an extremely elegant dress; the throne room was probably filled with music and guests, and they would ride their dragons together to show off their union… You tore all the clothes he liked to shreds and punched a hole in your mirror… 

Originally, you never had any disdain for your exceedingly kind and misunderstood aunt but now it was pure untamed hatred. The jealousy was incredible, truly you would be confined to a prison cell if you acted on the things you thought up. 

You could kill both of them and end the war before it even started. You prayed she would miscarry the twins, it didn’t happen. You prayed he would get too drunk and die from alcohol poisoning, obviously it didn’t happen. You prayed the entire keep would be set on fire and everyone within it would die burning in flames just as your father did… it did not. 

You were never good enough for him. He abandoned you and left you to rot after taking something so important from you. You were a fool, a naive idiot. The fear of being abandoned personified ever more when your mother gave birth to two legitimate children. Everyone was going to abandon you and it was driving you insane. You had mastered the art of pretending, no one was able to tell what was underneath the surface. 

Jacaerys was really the only person who noticed the change. He was the only one who saw through your lies and facade. And he was the only one who genuinely helped you overcome the complete insanity you had sunk into. He pulled you out from drowning in a sea of madness and kept you afloat ever since. In turn, you felt a little guilty for your wicked thoughts and desires, but you were atoning for them by good will and actions. 

Still, sometimes late at night when you were alone, he would come back. The memories would come flooding in and sleep would evade you. He had burned a scar into your heart that never fully healed and probably never would. According to your mother who said the first heartbreak is always the worst and most memorable. You didn’t want to come back. You didn’t ever want to see Aegon Targaryen again. 

“No, it’s because- ” You hit your head on the back of the car, knocking the air out of your lungs. The carriage came to a halt, catapulting Lucerys forward into the other seat. Jacaerys bursted into uncontrollable laughter as he rubbed his forehead from the impact. 

It was a great start to a visit, a crash landing. Surely, not foreshadowing the rest of your adventure. As you unpiled from the carriage a welcome party stood there waiting for you. It was unexpected, seeing your grandsire there in decent health, you heard he was much worse. 

Then there were the Hightowers, looking as if they wanted to be anywhere but here. Your eyes scanned over them one by one, Alicent wore her plastered fake smile as usual, Otto stood too stiffly and only looked at Daemon, Aemond looked ready to murder you all. He was far different from what you remembered, tall, slender, and handsome even with one eye. 

Then there was Helaena… Completely disassociated from whatever was happening and mumbling under her breath. You smiled, the rage you felt before when you imagined her was gone. You had actually healed and successfully moved forward. This was good, so great you could even hug her… 

Until your eyes moved to her left. The sunken feeling in your chest blossomed into a new monster threatening to devour you. Your smile faded; your heart began erratically pumping blood to all parts of your body. Your knees locked in place trying to keep your balance. 

Aegon… Aegon was only ten feet away and yet there seemed to be miles between you. It was a joke, a great joke, he looked more gorgeous than he ever had. His hair was cut to frame his face perfectly, his jaw was more defined, his dark circles brought out the beautiful sea blue that surrounded his pupils. 

The smile that adorned his face was larger than any you had seen him wear prior. His eyes twinkled with childlike glee. The corset you wore became suffocatingly tight and the heat in King’s Landing began to make your head spin. Your breathing was rapid, a million emotions coursing their way through your head. 

Aegon took a step down the stairs, your body wanted to flee but you were frozen in time. Another step, all the air in your body left you. A third step made all the bile in your stomach rise to your throat. His feet touched the ground, and he strode towards you, the world started to spin, your mind racing with the worst possible outcomes. 

You blinked, for a mere second. You reminded yourself it had been five years; he had no hold on you anymore. He was a monster, a terrible man and a worse son. Aegon was not going to get under your skin, you were not going to falter in front of him. You were better now, you moved on, you were mentally healthy… 

You opened your eyes, inhaling a deep breath. He was one pace in front of you, “Niece.” 

Disappointment, Aegon was riddled with it every day and today was no expectation. He was so excited his soul wanted to jump out of its skin. But no, the second he approached you passed out and all the sudden he was the villain. What could he have possibly done a foot away to make you faint? 

Unless you were too excited to see him, your heartbeat too fast and you fainted. It would make the most sense, reuniting with the person you truly love would send anyone over the edge. It almost made him faint when he first laid eyes upon you. 

Gods you were so much more beautiful than he could have imagined. You had grown into a gorgeous woman, easily the prettiest one at court. Your eyes sparkled like diamonds, your hair flowed perfectly down your face, and your cheeks still flushed bright pink when you saw him.  

Your dress hugged your figure in all the right places and the things he imagined laid beneath made him insatiably horny. Control, he had to remind himself it’d been years and he needed that. It was hard considering the two days you’d been here he had only seen one glimpse. One quick glimpse in the courtyard before you were stolen away again. 

Your chambers were only a few hallways away and he could see you anytime he wanted. And yet, Aegon had to plot when to corner you. There was not only a hoard of guards following you around every step you took but Jacaerys clung to your skirts like a lost orphan. 

So, he waited and waited… and fucking waited until he was practically ripping the hair from his skull. The lack of your presence was okay on the first day, the second it was tolerable but by the third day it became suspicious. Impatient and spoiled, his mother’s words rang true more and more each day. 

It was increasingly clear that it wasn’t just them keeping you from him, but you were putting extra care into avoiding him. What did he do wrong? The stalking? The letters? The gifts that were never opened. It was all obvious professions of love… Why would you be uncomfortable with that?

Aegon was nursing another goblet of wine as he sunk to the floor. His face felt wet as if he were crying… Was he crying? His body to the point of numbness he could not tell any longer. Sadly, it seemed the wine was not working to cure the ever-disheartening thoughts in his mind. 

You were going to get married and forget all about him. They hadn’t given him a single opportunity to attempt to carve his way back into your heart and most likely weren’t going to. What was the reason for living at this point? The one thing he yearned to touch was so close yet so far. 

He scoffed at himself. Aegon was no tragic poet, but he was beginning to sound like one. It was the alcohol, a new type probably causing his episode. He went to grasp the corner of the table to stand up, but his legs could no longer withstand his weight. The contents on the table along with his own body fell to the floor. 

Not one of his proudest moments to date.  

“You’re pathetic,” an irritating voice laced with superiority drew him out of his head. “Brother, have you come to visit your- I mean my children? They aren’t here.” Aemond clenched his jaw once, twice until he let out a deep breath. There was no point in arguing with Aegon, there was no winning against someone fueled by pure delusions. 

He would never come to see his- Aegon’s children in his room. They would be with their sweet mother far away from the monstrosity they called dad. “We’re all being forced to attend her wedding tourney.” 

“When?” Aegon’s eyes lit up and the sunken expression finally lifted. “At dawn,” Aemond took a step back before the smell of wine, sweat and uncleanliness of three days seeped into his nose. “For the love of the seven take a bath!” 

Hope, there was still hope left in the world! All of the sudden he had awakened, the whimpering pathetic mess he was a few moments ago was long forgotten. The gears in his brain began turning… 

As Aemond strode out of Aegon’s chambers a new plan formed into the mind of the monster himself… “Little brother,” he sang with a cruelty only Aegon could possess. “Will our dear uncle Gwayne be participating?” 

-

Aemond did not loathe his brother as much as everyone believed he did. Yes, he was jealous Aegon the wastrel was first born, and he was not. Yes, he was jealous Helaena was forced to marry the pig instead of him. No, he did not blame his brother for any of this. Solidarity was exceedingly important in times like these, future succession wars and all. 

What he learned was, Aegon hated being married to Helaena as much as she did. Aegon didn’t want to be king and would gladly give it to Aemond if the time came. Lastly, as sad as Aegon could be he was fiercely loyal to his family. If it came down to it Aemond knew his brother would die for them… or take an eye instead. 

“Has he stopped wallowing in his sorrow?” Even when she insulted people Helaena’s voice sounded like angels in his ear. “No, though he has come up with another borderline war crime plan.” She let out a deep sigh as she fiddled with the needle she used to sew. “Should I ask?” 

“He’s urging Gwayne to kill the Fiance before they have a chance to wed.” Helaena stifled a laugh; she should be offended he would dishonor her or even vengeful since her husband dare tried to intervene on another woman’s affairs. Instead, she bit her lip from smiling, “I should be glad she is not as deranged as him or I may not be here today.” 

Aemond rose from his seat and sat down next to her. His long fingers gently caressed the side of her face, pushing back the strands that obscured his view of her violet eyes. “I would kill her before she could ever lift a finger.” 

Helaena gently tugged Aemond’s hands away from her face, cupping them in her lap. “Aems you are far too serious. She’s still as sweet as a rose I hear…” 

There was a sudden silence between them, not uncomfortable in the slightest but eerily still, nonetheless. If Helaena was being honest with herself, she felt terribly for you. She couldn’t imagine what pain he had caused or what exactly he had done to cause you to faint at the mere sight of him. 

She could imagine, Helaena simply wished not to burden herself with those thoughts. You were her savior in a weird sense of the word. Because of your existence her brother did not attempt to bed her or force heirs upon her, he did not touch her, he did not bother her unless requested of him. You kept his mind preoccupied, so she wasn’t completely trapped in a horrid marriage such as her mothers. Aegon was a good brother and only a brother… Sometimes she worried what would happen if you ceased to exist. 

Still, she was trapped in a marriage. Aemond and Helaena had two vastly different reasons for wanting you around. Helaena wanted to see Aegon content, happy even if they were lucky. And if things happened the way it did in her dreams… Their marriage would be annulled and you two could wed and she could continue to do as she pleased with the father of her children. A fairytale but she was known for being the dreamer. 

Aemond simply wanted his brother to get off his fucking ass and do something with his life. He wanted him to stop whoring, to stop pushing away duties, and to start taking matters seriously. The only way he was going to do that was if his favorite toy was promptly returned to him. You also kept Aegon far away from his beloved Helaena, that was merely a bonus. 

If he had to choose, obviously he would have not chosen his brother to become obsessed with one of the bastards, it couldn’t be helped anymore. The seeds of whatever drug Aegon made you take to enjoy him had already been planted. The spell you used to seduce him had already begun working. 

At the very least you defended them… somewhat. It was enough to make him wish you were dead even less. He had to remind himself, though you were a bastard and related to his sworn enemy, you were also just a woman. As his mother once said, ‘all women are created in the image of the mother and to be spoken of with reverence… And to be treated as such!’ 

Aemond let out a breath he didn’t realize he was holding. “We’re going to find a convoluted way to help him, aren’t we?” Helaena hummed to herself for a moment, was there any way they could really help you? “Do you believe she is distant because she believes he abandoned her?” 

They gazed at each other for a moment, a silent agreement. You were easy to read, at least to the dreamer herself… “Yes Aems, I think we are.”

The dress you were forced into was unbearably tight, the summer sun had seeped through the red fabric and your blood felt as if it was boiling. The royal stand was too crowded, too many unwelcome faces and bodies suffocating you. The noise of horses and knights preparing to show off for your favor made your ears ache. Unbearable, that was the best way you could describe your current predicament. 

The fainting spell was enough to have your mother confine you to chambers. She knew, your brothers knew, the Hightowers knew, everyone in the entire keep could see through you both. At every single turn you were specifically swayed far away from your uncle. Absolutely no contact, especially since you were to be married. 

That’s what the entire day was for, to celebrate you being sold off to a son of Dorne. If the heat in King’s Landing doesn’t kill you first, then surely the sun there will do the job. You hoped your death would come sooner rather than late. 

If the day could not go any worse the sound of someone taking a seat next to you caused you to flinch. You could smell him, practically taste the wine emitting off of him. Then there was the seat to your left, the scent of flowers filled your nose. Your eyes stayed glued to your hands. You didn’t dare move or breathe… 

A gentle hand that was as soft as a feather pillow touched yours. “Don’t be nervous.” Helaena, of all the people in the world you did not expect her to say such. Especially now, since you were separating husband and wife or did, they purposely do this to torment you further? “If I’m sitting in your place I can move, princess.” 

You kept your head turned to her, trying your hardest to ignore the one sitting far too close to your right. Where was your mother? Your brothers? Where was your family to rescue you? “Nonsense! I purposely asked Jacaerys to let me sit next to you.” To the right, you could feel two violet eyes burning holes into the back of your skull. 

“How lovely,” you muttered out trying to find your family from the corner of your eyes. How in the seven hells was he next to you? You turned your body towards the crowd, an invisible shield in your mind blocking you from turning the other way. 

Behind you, your entire family was in the row above staring daggers into Aegon. Of course, he stole Lucerys seat before he had a chance to protest. The sound of trumpets blaring, and the weakened voice of your grandsire distracted you, momentarily from the hell you were living in. 

A warm and soft hand was placed over your own. Dragging your nails from tarnishing the skin around them. “Afraid your husband to be is going to lose?” It felt as though a bolt of lightning shot down your back. You bit your lip, no you wanted him to lose and potentially be stabbed in a duel. You actually want to be stabbed too right now.

Milk of the poppy was your savior. That’s what had been prescribed to keep you grounded. It’s why you’re not currently on the floor unconscious. It's why you decided to engage in conversation instead of keeping your mouth shut. It's why you let his hands caress your own and bask in the warmth they provided. It wasn’t you; it was the medication. 

“Why aren’t you participating in the tourney?” You could feel a smile curve onto his face, though you swore not to look. “Why would I? Do you want me to compete for your favor?” You turned to look at him, shocked by the accusation you would want him of all people competing for you. That was a fantasy of children, a dead one at that. 

A mistake was made when you glanced at him. Gods, he was beautiful in the most pathetic way possible. The dark circles, the smug smile, the unruly hair, the piercing eyes and the jaw with just a tad of baby fat encompassing it. You forgot his lady wife sitting next to you, you forgot your family watching you. For a moment, it was just you looking at the pretty monster who ruined you. A shimmer of hope, a memory of childhood championship bubbled to the surface. 

“No Aegon, I think you would lose,” you jested. His eyes sparkled; his subtle grin turned into a wide blinding smile. “I think I already have your favor.” Your mouth parted to speak, cheeks brimming red from the implication.

Down below the sounds of cracking shields and screams of pain stifled by armor were becoming the loudest noise. A Blackwood had just begun a duel with a Bracken and… his entrails were staining the tan colored sand a dark shade of crimson. You felt bile rising up in your throat as you unconsciously tightened your drip on Aegon’s hand. An act that didn’t go unnoticed and was quickly returned. 

“Not a fan of bloodshed?” His voice sounded softer, almost kind versus his usual unserious tone. He was staring at the side of your face and his eyes shone with mild concern combined with amusement. Aegon was always one for violence, not you.  By no means were you against it, seeing the insides of someone’s stomach simply didn’t suit your fancy. 

“And the day grows ugly…” Helaena let out a deep sigh as she gazed at the scene below. Her voice made you quickly realize how disrespectful you were being towards their marriage. In a second, your hand was ripped out of his grasp and placed firmly on your lap. Avoid, you avoided both of their looks and your gaze moved strictly forward. 

You could have sworn you saw a flash of Aemond’s eyepatch and his fingers patting at her knee. Oddly enough, you were very suspicious of brother and sister relationships considering the family you were born into. Thank heavens you were amongst the normal ones… almost. 

“You’re not wrong, Hel. You’re not wrong.” Aegon’s voice had lost all its original sympathetic tone as his lips formed into a pout like a spoiled brat. “Princess! Your favor would surely help me win this tournament if you could be so kind.” 

The sound of your fiancés voice made you want to sink into the abyss of your mind and let it swallow you. Maybe even feed yourself to Vhagar much like your late aunt Laena did. Aegon looked worse, enraged and annoyed to the utmost level. 

His body moved slowly towards your fiancée, and you swore if looks could kill he would be dead. You didn’t flinch or falter this time. You no longer frowned at the sight of the man you were supposed to marry. In fact, you were bubbling with joy.

The second Martell son held a huge smile while he waited for you to place your favor on his lance. You did your best to make a spectacle out of it, wishing him luck as loudly as you could. Your mother was smiling proudly, surely congratulating herself on a fine match she had made. 

She didn’t understand, you weren’t happy because of him. You were happy to see Aegon leaking envy from his pores with the most miserable look on his face. Now he was feeling exactly what you did and it felt fucking fantastic. You gracefully sat back in place with a smile that went ear to ear. 

“Would you like to place a bet on who will win, uncle?” He shifted in place, his eyes following the black mare your fiancée rode. “I don’t intend on betting coins, niece.” An awfully smug look creeped onto his face. “What are we betting?” 

Aegon leaned into you, so his mouth nearly brushed over your ear. His breath was heavy and laced with confidence. His whispers sent a shiver up your spine that glued you in place. “If Gwayne Hightowers knocks your beloved husband off his horse I get to claim you in front of everyone.” 

“…”

Your breath hitched in your throat as the world paused. Heat rose from the tips of your toes to the very top of your head, radiating in all directions. The drugs were no longer keeping your very unstable emotions at bay. Your cheeks were not just flushed by the idea but from the crushing reminder he was not yours to claim. He was stolen from you and didn’t mind until you showed back up. No letters, no secret rendezvous, no gifts on name days or holidays… To Aegon it was always just a game. 

A game he was still fucking playing at your own expense. Could he not see he had done enough? He had ruined what sliver of self-respect you had years ago? What else was there for him to take besides your life. Your original despair turned into something hateful, “My husband will win and when he does you have to stay away from me for as long as I’m here.” 

His mouth hung agape as he was trying to debate this completely unfair bet. Aegon was going to make a jest, defend himself or anything really before the trumpets blared loud enough for the deaf to hear. “Hmph,” you turned in your seat, stone faced, chin held high, completely ignoring his presence to watch the knights begin to mount their horses.

Ser Gwayne Hightower was wearing a suit of armor and a green cape. Gwayne’s helm was in the shape of a lantern… It looked completely ridiculous. His horse wasn’t stupid, it was a powerful white charger, and his lance appeared to be held firmly in his grip. From all the stories you’ve heard, he was an amazing knight. He’d won many tourneys in the past and nearly knocked down Daemon once. 

Your fiancée was on the other side, and he certainly did stand out… The golden decor on his armor was perhaps a bit much and he refused to wear a helm. His horse was beautiful albeit not as powerful as the charger. It wasn’t looking very good.

You were too busy praying to the seven for mercy when the two horses took off. In a flash their lances connected, and poor Quentyn was nearly thrown off. You heard a snicker from the corner, and you whipped your head to stare at the smirk plastered all over Aegon’s face. “Heh look at that!” No fucking way, no way in the names of any god would he get to do anything with you. “Fuck you, uncle,” the venom laced words seeped out of your mouth before you could contain them. Your perfect facade was beginning to break so quickly. 

“That can be arranged.” You gritted your teeth and your nostrils flared. Seeing him win in anyway made you want to snatch a sword and shove it right between his fucking… 

“We have a winner!” 

The crowd erupted into deafening cheers, and you forgot whatever your last thought was. You stood up from your seat to gaze at the ground and surely enough… 

“Quentyn Martell has won the favor of the Princess!” 

Heh heh heh…. You turned to look at him with a smirk only the divine could wear, “I win.” 

He miss stepped, Aegon had completely misread the situation at hand. Her mind had been completely poisoned by those… those cunts! And Gwayne completely fumbled the fucking tourney. This added more layers to the issues already at hand. Firstly, her husband needed to go and fast. Secondly, he had to untaint her mind. Thirdly, how the hell was he going to keep her here with him? Aegon only had a single day and night to do it… 

CRASH

Another empty goblet of wine was thrown into the wall. The small shards covered the floor like winter snow tainted by red droplets of wine. The prince was raging and drinking… ceaselessly. “For the love of the seven will you sit down!” Aemond watched unamused, on the edge of storming out himself at this display. It was getting annoying how easily irritated his brother was becoming. Aegon stomped across, “We have to kill him… Preferably sooner rather than late.” 

“We could tell the truth about her virtue and have a Septon annul the marriage… avoid making any unnecessary enemies.” Aegon pivoted to stare at Aemond, face void of any signs of agreement. “Yes, and besmirch her reputation in the process… Ha! That will surely make her crawl into my bed.” 

Aemond really fucking hated sarcasm above all forms of conversation. “Oh, great manipulative tactician, what exactly were you thinking?” His steps paused as he toyed with the knife he kept on belt. He wasn’t a genius nor was he overly capable of manipulation like his grandfather…

“It can only work if she is obsessed with me again.” The younger brother let out a groan, rubbing his face with both his hands. “What exactly are you planning to do?” 

A wicked smirk curled its way onto his lips. His pupils momentarily turned dark, “Not I, dear brother, what are you going to do.” Aemond lowered his hands, so his eye picked through, raising an eyebrow. 

—

“This won’t do,” Rhaenyra declared as she tossed another necklace laced with jewels onto the floor of your chambers. “Mother!” you gaped as the expensive piece fell to the floor. She pursed her lips together, fingers grazing the delicate jewelry laid before you. “My first born, my only daughter is getting married… Tacky crystals won’t do.” You sunk deeper into your chair, twirling your wet hair in between your fingers. 

Rhaenyra closely examined a few more pieces, none of which suited her exquisite taste. She turned to you, her eyebrows creasing together. “You look more pale than usual.” You looked up at her and her eyes were laced with concern. One thing about your mother is that you could never lie to her. She knew you more than you knew yourself. The slightest bit of discomfort she could snuff out and exile it from your mind. 

“I haven’t been sleeping well as of late.” Her gentle hands went to comb through your hair. “If you changed your mind and don’t wish to get married, I could always have Daemon, take care of it.” You choked up a laugh, “threatening murder on my wedding day? How very festive.” 

A small smile made her lips curve upwards. She let out a breath, plucking a necklace off the counter and holding it to your neck. “Is it him?” The dragon necklace made of diamonds laced with gold details seemed to taunt you. “No, he hasn’t bothered me at all.” A bold-faced lie that your mother could see through instantaneously. Rhaenyra wrapped the necklace around your throat and clasped it in the back. “Really? He seemed to bother you at the tourney.” 

The necklace seemed to be choking you though it wasn’t tight at all. It would have been something you wore if you were getting married to him instead. A golden dragon paying homage to Sunfyre… “Just playful banter. Honestly it went far better than expected.” 

She looked as if she was about to contest what you said but three knocks at the door caught both your attention. It slowly creaked open revealing a maid no older than fifteen. She stood meekly in the entrance shifting eyes between your mother and yourself. 

“I didn’t mean to disturb you; the king requested your presence.” Your mother raised her brow, questioning the situation at hand. You gave a nearly unnoticeable nod, reassuring her everything was all right. She clapped her hands together, “You’re not disturbing anyone! My love I’ll return shortly.”

Rhaenyra strided out the door with the confidence only a queen could possess. You envied the way she carried herself no matter the situation. You slumped back down into your chair staring at yourself in the grandiose mirror. Maybe it wouldn’t be so bad having Daemon rid you of your husband… If anything, he would probably take pride in having something to hold over your head.

But a war was brewing, it was an inevitable fact that no one could deny and soon it would be impossible to ignore. You needed the dornish alliance, and you were the perfect bargaining chip… Curse the seven for making you a woman. 

“You look like you’re in agony. Already getting the wedding blues?” It’s no use asking how he snuck in, it’s no use asking why he was here, and it’s absolutely no fucking use to start panicking. “Uncle, I thought we had an agreement.” His steps were light, almost frolicking to stand behind your seat in front of the vanity. Aegon’s face was the ideal image of serenity, you couldn’t say the same for yourself. 

“It’s your wedding day! Surely, I can offer my congratulations on this joyous day.” There wasn’t an honest way you could describe the pain within your chest. It felt as if a blade had carved a hole within your heart that refused to heal. A dark abyss threatening to swallow you whole. He wasn’t meant to be happy; you were supposed to be cheery. Aegon was meant to pin after you until he died… Not move on and get married, have children, and celebrate your own wedding. 

You didn’t feel the tears quietly falling from your eyes or the way your lip was quivering. His hand moved to graze your shoulder, but you jumped out of your seat, snapping your head back to face him. “Don’t touch me!” He put his hands up in mock surrender, “W-woah…”

“Did you come here to torment me some more? Do you revel watching me be so miserable?” He stumbled back, muttering some incoherent apology that fell on deaf ears. “You abandoned me! You left me like a dog and went to go playhouse with your perfect fucking family, perfect fucking wife and two perfect children.” 

One of the many things you were shouting must have triggered something within him. Aegon grabbed your shoulders with such force you almost buckled under their grip. He shook you like a child would shake their pet if it stopped listening. “Perfect? Have you become fucking delusional? What part of a forced marriage to your sister sounds perfect to you?!” 

“Let me go! Don’t- fucking touch me!” You shouted in between sobs. “No! You’re telling me you’ve been ignoring me for years because you’re fucking jealous?” You swatted at his face, attempting to grab him by his hair to pull him down. Poor idea, Aegon always thought violence was exciting. Somewhere amidst the fight you ended up wrestling on the ground shouting curses at one another. 

“I hate you! I would never be jealous of you!” Aegon shiftly straddled you and began fighting to grab your wrists again. To make it all the more unbearable the bastard was smiling. “Bullshit! It’s seeping off of you.” You bit down on his hand that came just a little too close to your mouth. He growled, slamming on wrists behind your head. “Seven hells will you calm down and listen!” 

You writhed underneath him, albeit with less screams of curses. This rather pathetic display went on for only another minute before he forced his lips onto yours. It was rough, mainly teeth clashing together and lips fighting against one another. Part of you wished it could continue, to relive your past one more time before you were sold off. 

The other part of you bit his lip hard enough to draw blood. Aegon relented, a droplet of blood staining his swollen bottom lip. Whatever spell he had put on you had worked; you were quiet and unusually still. “Look at me.” You turned your head to face the wall, refusing to be trapped by those damned eyes. “Look at me!” Begrudgingly, after being shouted at, you looked at him. “My marriage is not happy. I swear on my own life I only bedded her once. I was so drunk I can’t even remember if it truly happened…” 

“More lies… You have two children.” He scoffed, looking around the room as if asking the seven for patience. “Oh, for the love of- Do you really think those are mine? Just look at them!” Aegon appeared unbelievably desperate for you to believe him. His eyes frantically searching yours for any comfort… 

The twins did appear more similar to one brother than the other… Jaehaera herself was a spitting image of Helaena only. “I don’t believe you…” His face dropped as if you had taken an arrow to his heart. “But it wouldn’t matter if I did. I’m getting married tonight.” A foolish course of action on your part because you gave him hope. A dangerous thing if given to the wrong people and he was by far the wrong person. 

He pressed his mouth against you once more, this time his soft lips caressed your own gently. The taste of wine and iron coated your tastebuds, and it wasn’t at all displeasing. It was comforting, like a hug from an old friend. He pulled his right hand away from your wrist, almost giving you time to escape. But the second your arm moved he grabbed it with his left. A gentle, almost comfortable, kiss was turning into a desperate one. 

Aegon’s tongue slid into your mouth doing circles with your own. Your breaths quickened as he began to nibble on your bottom lip, pulling it between his teeth and then kissing it before letting go again. His hands slid down to your thighs, cupping them firmly in his warm palms and massaging their shape. You shivered when his fingers brushed against your most sensitive area, it had been so long since anyone had touched you. 

The wedding you were supposed to be attending today became a distant memory as he kissed you senseless. His lips trailed across your jawline and down your neck, leaving a trail of fire in its wake. When his nose grazed yours again you found yourself trembling with need. 

“You have missed me,” he whispered breathlessly. You wanted to say no, that your body was betraying you but when his fingers grazed your unclothed cunt all you could mutter was “ah, ah, ah~”

His tongue flicked out and traced up the side of your neck, then back down. He slipped his tongue inside of your ear, and then swallowed down all of your words. His fingers began gently teasing at your clit, sliding between your wet folds, rubbing it painstakingly slow. You whimpered into his mouth, begging him to do more.

Aegon wasn’t supposed to give it all to you so easily but… Forcing in a few fingers was far from all he could do. He began thrusting his fingers in and out of your slick folds, making sure to tease your clit each time. His eye had a wicked gleam to them watching you come undone underneath him, “you think you’ll be happy with another man? You think he’ll be able to please you like I do?” 

You opened your mouth but all that came out was a muffled cry. “No one knows your body like I do. No one can ever please you like I do.” His fingers moved swifter curling up to hit the sweet spot inside of you. Your legs buckled around him as you began to moan ceaselessly. A wicked smile took over his features, “be honest with yourself everytime you try to fuck another man you’ll be imagining me, my lips, my tongue, my fingers and my cock inside of you.” 

Your arms fell limply by your sides, the world spinning in circles as a delicious haze descended upon you. Your hips moved of their own accord, grinding against his fingers as he continued to push them deeper inside of you. “I’ve already ruined you, what other man could want you?  Who do you belong to? Say it!” 

“Y-You! Aegon! I belong to you.” You cried out in pleasure, your voice echoing through the room. He pressed his lips against you once more, swallowing all the noises you made as your cunt tightened around his thick fingers. “That’s a good little girl,” He purred as your orgasm washed over you.

“Aegon…” You breathed, your head lolling to the side as he pulled his fingers out of your quivering pussy. He sat up, face returning to its usual expression of complete nonchalant. “I’ll give you time to get all dressed up, recite vows you do not mean with a stranger, dance until your heart's content and then I’m taking back what’s rightfully mine.” 

He leaped off of you swiftly, lazily fixing his hair and wiping the blood from his mouth. You propped yourself up on your elbows, “What in the seven hells?” Aegon smiled at you, but it wasn’t one of genuine joy. It was sick with cruel eyes behind it. “You’ll see.” 

The seeds of doubt had been planted into your mind and had already begun to sprout. The once joyous occasion was quickly turning into a fucking nightmare. To be Frank, you really wish you were dead instead of standing up here reciting vows you did not mean. It was awkward, unbelievably awkward. For five years your beloved had been pining for you and you were too blind to see it. 

Or it was all a sick joke being played on you. Which one was worse you did not know. Your entire family stood there, smiling, your mother nearly on the verge of tears seeing her only daughter preparing to start a family of her own… Gods, is this how Aegon felt all these years knowing he was the disappointment? You had been completely soiled and yet here you stand with your new husband… Aegon’s scent and markings weren’t even fully off of you! 

The entire ceremony was eerily calm. No random bursts of violence or protests to your union.  Which means your uncle may or may not intend to murder and or maim this man tonight. Any sound of mind woman would be sick at the thought and run for aid… Obviously you were not at all that type of girl. Currently you were jumping out of your skin waiting for him to finally arrive and rescue you. 

The only issue was, he never did show up. Not for the first kiss, not for the first dance, not for the speech his father was barely able to make or the feast itself… Did he intend to ignore you until it was all over? 

____________________________________

Aegon was unbelievably late to the wedding celebration. It was on purpose; he had a few loose strings he needed to tie before he arrived. For once he was sober and painstakingly polite as he walked in. It is fair to mention he had the servants meticulously fix his normal disheveled appearance so he could make an impression on you. 

When Aegon first entered the great hall, his eyes were immediately drawn to the center of the room, where a grand table adorned in the finest gold sits on a raised dais. The royal table is flanked on either side by rich red tapestries, ornately embroidered with the sigils of the houses respectively. If only he could burn all of the dornish banners with Sunfyre.

As he moved throughout the room, Aegon was struck by the attention to detail. Everywhere you looked, you saw the sign of the union between two powerful houses, a testament to the joyous occasion for which this room has been decked out. It was fucking disgusting and Aegon wanted to puke on it.

The throne room was filled to the brim with Lords and Ladies alike from all across the realm. In the center, just in front of the throne sat the royal table. On the opposing sides of the room were the packed tables for the highly esteemed guests. The middle of the room was cleared for dancing and eventually the marriage itself…

He wished he could throw himself into the spikes of the throne. Instead, he had to slither his way through the crowds to make way to the table. Aegon was tired of waiting, He was tired of hearing your family gawk at the well-made match and he was especially tired of doing nothing. Your husband would be dealt with in due time, but he hadn’t the patience to pretend not to be itching to speak to you, to touch you, anything but sit here and fucking watch. 

He finally pulled himself up onto the podium and marched his way in front of you. You seemed stunned, miserable, in awe of his beauty. All of which were better than you being happy to be wed. "I'm insulted you have yet to ask me to dance, uncle." His lips twisted into his usual overly confident smile. “didn’t want to disturb the happy couple so soon.” 

Your eyes rolled into the back of your skull as you stuck out your hand waiting for him to take it. There were stares from certain people of course, those who knew what happened at Driftmark and potentially before. You didn’t really care anymore. 

For a moment, he was the perfect gentleman. Placing his hands in only the proper places and spinning you around the floor with ease. If you were a normal family, this would be a sweet interaction between relatives… But you were twisted and Targaryens. “You know, I’m putting more effort into this dance than my own wedding.” You scoffed, “Oh joy, surely no one will find this suspicious at all.” 

Aegon’s face mirrored disgust as he glanced around you. “Is something the matter?” He rolled his eyes, "Your dearly beloved is gawking." You stood on your tiptoes to glance over his shoulder. Surely enough, the pretty dornish prince was smiling ear to ear watching you…"Do something about it." 

The mischievous look Aegon always wore as a child made its reappearance. It was quick, his hands grasping onto your face and pulling you so close you could feel his breath on your skin. “You would let me dishonor you in front of all these people, bad princess.” You whined trying to lean up into his face, but he pulled back, “tsk tsk, can’t let your husband see you so needy for my affection now, can we?” 

You wished he would stop referring to him as your husband. You wished he would stop reminding you of what waited for you after the night ended. “Sister… Prince Aegon.” Jacaerys appeared from behind like a thief in the night. Immediately souring any positive mood Aegon could have been in. He stepped back, letting his hands fall to his sides. “Nephew.” He gritted through his teeth with a subtle bow. 

“Princess, would you dance with me?” You glanced between the two and felt the humiliation of the situation beginning to seep in. Your mother was on the high podium with a faux smile and a death grip on her fork observing you… “Of course! Let’s go little brother.”

The dance was alright… But you couldn’t get your mind off of the Lannister girl who was practically drooling at the sight of Aegon. He had slept with her before you knew this much. A secret part of you kept track of the whores he buried his cock inside, at least the rich ones. What happened next was honestly a blur, you couldn’t remember a thing. Except that you may or may not have called her a whore and threatened her life if she dared to touch him… She scurried away with her hands on her and tears in her eyes. 

You weren’t jealous at all, only defending Helaena’s honor. 

____________________________________

“Prince Aegon, pleasure to finally meet you,” If the night couldn't get any better the man of the hour had just willingly approached the man plotting against him… “Prince Quentyn, nice of you to believe this is a pleasure.”  He smirked, “Your wife looks very beautiful.” Aegon patted his shoulders, “as does yours.” 

Quentyn winced, a rather noticeable scowl growing on his face. “She’ll never be yours, my prince.”

“You’ll see later tonight whose name she calls out while your cock is inside her.” He smiled a crooked grin. Quentyn’s fists balled up next to his sides, Aegon wasn’t one to directly fight, he was more behind the scenes type of criminal. There was no denying that he was strong, strong enough to crack this man’s skull. But that wasn’t part of the plan… His feet moved fast, swiftly connecting his fist to Aegon’s jaw. 

The crowd erupted behind them, lords and ladies screaming trying to escape the violence. Suddenly, Aegon stopped trying to attack and let the dornish cunt take charge. He tackled him to the ground and landed hit after hit… Was this really worth it, he thought to himself as blood started to trickle down his face. “You- fucking- wastrel-” Aegon was laughing hysterically whilst getting his face beat in… All according to plan, he told himself. 

“Get off of him!” You screeched in horror pulling at the man assaulting your lover. It wasn’t meant to take a turn like it did. Quentyn, not recognizing you, turned and landed a hit square to your cheek knocking you on your ass. “Protect the princess!” Some guard shouted from behind whilst dogpiling onto your husband. He stared in horror at what he had done, you were gripping your cheek mortified, and Aegon was laying there covered in blood laughing his ass off like a psychopath. 

The maester was applying ice to your cheekbone as you nervously picked at the seams on your dress. “We’ll have the marriage annulled by tomorrow.” Rhaenyra paced inside the room. “On what grounds? Aegon was obviously egging him on,” Jacaerys groaned from the corner. “I could kill him and fix this entirely,” Daemon muttered watching his wife rage on. 

The rest of the argument was drowned out, the only noise you could hear was the sound of Aegon’s jaw cracking. You didn’t feel despair that the wedding was ruined, you didn’t feel depressed that your husband had hit you… No, you felt completely fucking enraged. 

Seeing Aegon harmed had awoken something in you. It was hateful and could not be quelled by a simple apology. He fucking beat him to a pulp in the midst of your wedding then had the audacity to lay a hand on you… It may or may not have awoken something because seeing Aegon laughing whilst covered in his own blood made your core heat up. 

“Could I be given some milk of the poppy for the pain, mother?” Rhaenyra looked at you with the most sorrowful expression she could muster, “oh my sweet girl.” She cupped your cheeks in her hands and rubbed at the bruise that was forming. “Go fetch some tea for my daughter, Maester… Now!” 

____________________________________

You were returning to your chambers in a rather dumbed down state. The medicine made your mind hazy, and your body feel light as a feather. It was like wine but far better with less of a hangover. The corridors were dark, all the excitement from tonight was far over. You hummed to yourself lazily, dreading the return to where your husband lay. Until you felt a hand wrap around your mouth and yank you into a hole in the wall you never knew was there. 

You tried to scream but were quickly shushed by a voice that could only belong to one man. “Aegon? What are you doing?” He smiled at you, rubbing the bruise on your cheek. “Will you go out for a walk with me?” You raised your eyebrow in distrust, “To where?” Aegon grinned, almost too enthusiastically to trust, “the dragonpit.” 

The most unexpected event of tonight wasn’t the wedding brawl nor the injury that befall you. It was the fact you were riding on Sunfyre again, with Aegon holding onto your waist as you soared through the stars. It was a wedding gift, he claimed. As far as you knew Aegon never let anyone touch his dragon let alone ride with him, except you. 

It was indescribable, the feeling of the wind rushing past your cheeks. The view of the city and the moon shining above you reflecting off his scales. You were giggling uncontrollably the entire flight listening to Aegon tell jests you hadn’t heard in years. Whatever injury he had gained was long forgotten the second you took off. Whatever drama or chaos in the keep didn’t exist outside. In the sky, you both were completely free. 

You couldn’t say how long you spent outside. Mayhaps it was an hour or two before Sunfyre descended onto a nearby beach surrounded by the most beautiful rock formations you had seen. “Is this your version of bridenapping me?” You teased while he helped you climb down the saddle. “It’s only kidnapping if you fight back.” 

He grasped your hand leading you across the sandy beach, showcasing the stars he supposedly, desperately wanted to show you. “I have an actual gift for you too.” You raised your eyebrows in disbelief, “Is it a ride home on Sunfyre?” Aegon laughed, genuinely laughed for the first time since you’ve returned. He dug in his pocket searching for something… “I had it made years ago but never had the chance to properly give it to you.”

In his hand was the most beautiful golden ring in the shape of a dragon. “A ring? A Sunfyre ring?” Aegon grabbed your hand and slipped it on with ease, “I’m not that creative, you know this. it was meant to be something to remember me by when you left.” Tears were prickling your eyes once more. The fool kept the damned ring all these years and never mentioned it. “Aegon… Be honest for once with me please. Do you still love me?” 

He paused, searching tirelessly for the right words to say. “I… There hasn’t been a day in five years where I haven’t thought about you at least once. There hasn’t been an hour that something has not reminded me of you. There hasn’t been a single night I’ve slept without seeing you… It isn’t normal, it’s twisted and sick and cruel just like I am. No matter what you do to others, to me, to yourself. No matter if the world ends in a freeze or we are in the midst of a war of the ages… I believe I’ll always feel this… And I don’t think I’ll be able to stop until the seven hells take me.” 

You sniffled; he always had such a roundabout way of saying things. “I’ll always love you too.” He smiled genuinely, pulling you into a kiss so gentle yet so firm it made you forget all the dangers of the world, the drama, the potential war, your husband, everything was irrelevant except for you two, right now under the stars.

“We still haven’t done the bedding ceremony.” You whispered against his lips. His eyes lit up, “Have you always been so needy for me?” You didn’t have time to protest before he was passionately colliding his lips against yours once more. You threw your arms around his neck and pulled him closer into you, making sure no part of you would ever be apart from him again.

His arms slipped below your waist as he lowered you onto the ground as gently as he could. Your legs fell open instinctively and his hands began to explore your body. It was vastly different from every other time you’ve been together. It was gentle and loving, passionate and pleasurable without the pain. 

Your bodies started to move in sync with each other, stripping away the clothes that hid your most intimate parts.  His hands held you close to his chest, keeping you warm while you were exposed to the elements. You moaned into his mouth, kissing him passionately with a hunger you had forgotten existed.

He broke the kiss, gasping for air. You opened your eyes to see the moonlight reflected off his face, sometimes Aegon Targaryen looked more God than man. He moved to suckle on your neck as he ran his length against your slit. 

“You’re so beautiful,” He murmured huskily against your ear. He slowly pushed inside, filling you with his thickness. You gasped from the sudden sensation. He was so deep within you, so far reaching you almost felt like you could reach out and touch the stars.

His kisses trailed down your neck, nibbling, sucking, biting. He took his time thrusting inside of you with slow movements, appreciating every moment your bodies were entertained. He stopped mid-thrust, holding himself deep within you.

“I love you, Princess.” He whispered, his voice so tender and soft. You blushed like a child; it was silly to think his cock being inside you didn’t make you feel as embarrassed as him telling you, his feelings. “Always.” You murmured back. He kissed you deeply, his tongue slipping past your teeth.

You clung tight to his neck, your nails digging into his skin. He moved faster, his breaths coming in shorter and quicker. You moaned, your thighs trembling from the feeling of fullness. His fingers traced circles on your inner thigh, and then he moved to your clit. 

He worked you effortlessly, eliciting soft whimpers and moans and love confessions. The world was a blur of fluorescent colors and smells, nothing mattered but you and Aegon. His climax came swiftly, almost right after your own. You begged for him to cum inside you, to fill you with his seed and he always did as you asked. 

He collapsed on top of you, his weight heavy on your shoulders. You wrapped your arms around his back, feeling him relax. “Aegon…” You spoke his name softly, your head resting on his shoulder. “Mhmm?” He said in a daze. “Again?” You whispered, your lips brushing against his neck. He smirked, his cock twitching inside of you.

____________________________________

[anticidic]

Got Fyozai on the mind, so obviously time to yap about them.

I can't really get behind the whole Fyodor and Dazai hate each other, because I don't see anything resembling actual hate between them. The situation between them is more business-like: Fyodor's bad, Dazai doesn't agree with his views on humanity, and they inevitably become thorns in each other's sides because of the obvious conflict of interest. Dazai's out to stop Fyodor's plans, and because he's an obstacle, Fyodor needs to remove him. There's nothing emotionally charged going on.

I think, if anything, Dazai, at one point in his life, came dangerously close to adapting an outlook of the world similar to Fyodor's, but that changed because of various people in his life, notably Oda. Oda told Dazai to be on the side that saved people, and in a roundabout way, Oda saved Dazai from himself before he fell too deep into a void he wouldn't come out of.

That's how I see current Fyodor: he didn't have people like that in his life to either challenge his look on humanity, or maybe even people justified Fyodor's extreme beliefs and he's who we have today. I've said it before, but yeah, I see them more as foils of one another.

Other people refer to them as monsters, or Fyodor is likened/compared to Dazai, but when they interact, Dazai will call Fyodor a demon, but Fyodor never refers to him in a similar fashion. Fyodor speaks in a more casual manner toward Dazai like how you would address an old friend, which could also suggest how he sees Dazai as similar to him instead of reducing him to a sinning ability user in need of salvation.

Fyodor is who Dazai could've been. Not in the literal sense, but in a fell from grace, and no one can reach him anymore way.

And I think the LACK of hate between them speaks greater volumes than anything that might be implied. As far as we know, Dazai's one of the closest to understanding Fyodor on an intellectual level, and all that really separates them are their views of the world and humanity.

Dazai and Fyodor have known each other a long time; Fyodor's been mentioned in The Day I Picked Up Dazai—and I'd love a light novel of their actual first meeting—BUT ANYWAY. They were more like two peas in a pod back then when Dazai was just twiddling his thumbs and seeking purpose and something greater to life while in the mafia, and I feel like he was blind at the time to realizing how similar their beliefs were at that time because it became an echo chamber. Then after Oda and defecting, Dazai can actually take a step back to realize and understand that his younger self had once been a part of what Fyodor was and is.

Which leads me to the events in Meursault when Fyodor believed that Dazai and Chuuya's partnership was fickle and the 7 years was worthless because Fyodor was judging Dazai based on his old Port Mafia self and believing he knew Dazai too well at that point. Fyodor hasn't changed since they met because he doesn't trust others, but Dazai's changed and it manages to fool Fyodor.

Fyodor's doing bad things and Dazai's done bad things, don't get me wrong, but I feel like over time as Dazai established himself with the ADA and slowly learned to change his look on life as he surrounded himself with better people in a better environment that didn't simply see him as a tool for a greater, sinister cause, he probably understands on an intellectual level what would drive a man like Fyodor to these lengths. Naturally, Dazai doesn't agree, and that's why they're enemies trying to get each other out of the way, but I sense that unspoken sort of, 'I understand, terribly.', because it's like looking in the mirror to see what could have been. Dazai considers having his ability a curse, and Fyodor's motivated by his own experiences and the curse of his own ability to do what he's doing.

Removing them from the canon world, they manage to get along in Gakuen and get up to silly nonsense in Wan!, so when placed back into the original world, I see, personally, how it becomes more obvious where the line is drawn between them and the point they become enemies. Dazai would rather remove himself from the world, whereas Fyodor believes he's solving a worldwide crisis by removing all ability users.

And now by standing up against Fyodor, Dazai's challenging dangerous beliefs his old self once had which could've continued down a dark path. Like quite literally fighting against a demon, as Dazai has referred to Fyodor, but more like his own inner demons.

[tlonista]

I wish the conversation over Problematic Relationships In Fiction weren't so heavily framed around individual stories. Because I don't care about some random fucked-up novel, but I do feel like current romance media trends toward a recommendation-fueled monoculture with some frustratingly rigid gender norms, and a lot of "does fiction affect reality" discourse offers no way of talking about it.

Every time I dip my toe outside AO3 (Wattpad, Kindle Unlimited, Reddit, my BookTok experience is limited but that's the vibe I get there) I'm dismayed by how hard it is to find M/F romance that's not implicitly or explicitly about eroticized male-dominated power imbalance. Not just "he's a serial unaliver" dark romance, but the huge focus on hypermasculine heroes taking care of heroines and possessive alpha-male fated mates and nigh-inescapable trends like "good girl" praise-kink stuff.

Obviously this was always common in romance publishing, but a) the internet was supposed to support niches and b) I find significantly more diversity on AO3, so I think it can. It's just that no other platform or online community seems structured to do it. Instead a combination of recommendation feeds, word-of-mouth virality, and fast-fashion self-publishing surfaces infinite variations on a handful of the most broadly appealing industry blockbusters and buries everything else.

So instead of offering an alternative to old monolithic print publishing, online platforms seem even better at elevating male-domination kinks from "a fairly popular dynamic" to an inescapable default of What Romance Is. Even if you're fully aware it's a sexual fantasy, it gets downright hard to articulate desire in any other way, especially if you don't have a fully-formed picture of what you like. Unless you think sexuality simply isn't a "real" component of people's lives, I think this is a reasonable example of fiction in aggregate affecting reality in a negative way.

(It's also obviously not unique to romance lit. I just can't speak to stuff like video porn firsthand, and I don't see a ton of pushback on people criticizing the gender dynamics of Pornhub.)

But if the only available question is "is X book corrupting impressionable young women," then... no, that's silly. If anything, the aggregate system makes individual books feel bad in ways the authors probably didn't intend. Like, in Popular Kink Land, "your feminism says no but your body says yes" tropes are appealing for some women working through a particular kind of purity culture. In Inescapable Dynamic Land they take on this Gorean overtone where all women secretly want a man to take charge of them. The former is not my thing but fine; the latter feels like some kind of weird accidental gaslighting.

To the extent AO3 escapes this, I think it's for four reasons.

A focus on tags and chronological sorting, which helps surface non-popular stuff and gives readers more control

It's strictly non-commercial so there's less incentive to write for the broadest audience or fill the site with boilerplate sludge

It doesn't segregate categories like "romance for men", so there's less gerrymandering of cross-gender niches like femdom

The fourth reason, which is most interesting to me, is that fanfic ships (specifically not X-reader ships) create easily discoverable literary microgenres drawn from a huge range of media outside the tropey echo chamber of Romancelandia Proper.

In my experience it takes hours of scouring Reddit and Goodreads to find non-normative original romance, but one AO3 search and a few clicks to get from "I played Resident Evil and liked Ada and Leon's vibe" to a substantial microgenre about a badass woman making a cute guy stutter, or "I loved Kaz and Inej in Six of Crows" to a bunch of takes on a not-conventionally-masculine hero and a powerful but vulnerable heroine pining for each other. Since a decent number of fanfic authors also write non-fanfic, there's even a chance you'll find somebody who does original characters with a sensibility you like. I have no idea how you'd bring this system outside shipfic, but I'd love to see someone try.

[bioethicists]

Genuine question, but is restorative/ transformative justice useful for addressing hate groups?

I was under the impression that the prevention of violence extended to hate groups, but I keep seeing the reoccurring message from some people that incels, for example, don't need compassion or community (reasoning being, that they became incels because of their entitlement and superiority complex, which would not be solved with accountable compassion or community).

But I don't really understand the unspoken alternative? It seems so much worse for the women they'll inevitably interact with to just leave them isolated in their community, edging each other to the extreme.

while i do think some people online genuinely believe that incels are like, broken sociopathic monsters who need to be murdered or abandoned by society because it's their own fault etc, i think most of the time what people mean by that is "the burden of teaching men not to hate women should not be on women; men are still responsible for their own hateful actions; they are not owed my compassion or empathy, even if it would 'help' them". it's also backlash to the fact that people like incels often get painted as poor little victims in a way many other people (like the women they hate so much) do not.

that being said, everything that happens to anyone ever happens in community, whether people like it or not. total individualism is fake + any leftist worth their salt knows this. if the only way you can imagine someone having accountability for their actions is to believe that something is entirely, 100% their fault with absolutely no outside influences or nuance, then nobody can never be held accountable for anything. everyone needs compassion + community (i would argue the benefit many ppl derive from hate group membership is a sense of community), but i wouldn't say they are owed it by any individual. i would also say that the way in which compassion/community is applied (often when there is no political analysis + it's just based on appeals to "everyone has good inside them" or "love away the hate") in these cases can become just a way of reinforcing an echo chamber, refusing to challenge someone's beliefs, or silencing the people harmed (critiquing ppl for not being "good" victims or not having compassion for their abusers).

ppl often misunderstand restorative approaches as being "lesser" or "letting people off" when they can often require more accountability + more demonstration of change than a carceral approach. it is not synonymous with "loving someone's hate" or "letting them off easy". i mean, under the u.s carceral system, membership in most hate groups is not illegal. even when it becomes legally relevant, the people who are actually harmed are rarely centered in these approaches- it's just a bloodfest over how much we can punish people so we can show off how we think misogyny is super bad even as the court system continues to be one of, if not the most prolific perpetrator of misogyny + victim blaming. as if a handful of violent misogynists' suffering is supposed to be vindication or deterrence (when it never rlly is).

ultimately, there are tens of thousands of reasons why someone may be a member of a hate group, but it usually boils down to the fact that they are deriving some sort of benefit- financial, emotional, familial, cultural, interpersonal, etc- for doing so. some people would probably respond really well to a restorative approach because they would be capable + interested in delving into why they believe these things + how they could get their needs met without harming others. others are fully aware of the fact that they are deriving benefit at the expense of others + simply do not care or, worse, that is the benefit for them- the hurting other people/feeling superior to others. part of moving outside of the logic of the carceral system is moving past the idea that every individual person must be either punished or saved, rather than focusing on the conditions which create hate groups + give them power.

there may be a lot of individual members of hate groups who would not benefit from restorative practices, but we can still make hate group membership as undesirable + lacking benefit as possible, minimize the amount of power + resources they have to do harm, magnify the amount of power + resources the people they are harming have access to. to me, this is restorative, because it focuses on minimizing harm rather than punishing perpetrators + centers around people who have been harmed. further, if we understand the needs or desires that often drive hate group membership, we can work to make those needs/desires easier to fulfill through less destructive means + do the structural work of addressing why, for example, so many teenage boys have a need/desire to feel sexually dominant or 'alpha'.

the biggest restorative work to me is not based on any one individual, but on making the pathways into hate groups as narrow as possible + the pathways out as broad as possible, while still emphasizing accountability + capacity for change.

[spotaus]

Mm, New Age au my beloved (I just knocked out like... a lot of stuff I needed to do, so here's a quick post before I get back to it) oh! And @ancha-aus hiiiii :]

I know I focus a lot on Night but like... Dream! Dream is a huge part of the story!! So here's a tease at wtf has been up with Dream since Night ate the apple.

So... Dream! He was exiled, but he wasn't left on his lonesome. Nightmare contacted a neighboring kingdom that they already had a treaty with, and asked for them to watch over the crown prince, as he was no longer "fit to rule". They'd accepted, and Night shipped him off at the earliest convenience.

Of course, Dream had no clue it was for his own good, so naturally, after lamenting to this other kingdom about what had happened, how everything changed, he garnered pity, and then support, when Nightmare confirmed Dream's story through letters. Though, the kingdom couldn't afford a war, so they just had to stand idly by.

Dream only stayed there a few years, because by the time he was about 17, he'd become good friends with a squire: Blue. Blue worked around the castle, doing all sorts of tasks for the knight training him, but despite his exceptional skill he remained at the level of Squire due to his age. Blue was very devoted to Dream as his friend and self-proclaimed protector. He looked up to Dream, and was positive he would defeat his brother and take back the throne.

And so, when Dream left on his own to gather experience and followers without endangering this kingdom, Blue followed. Blue was never officially Knighted, but their first night in an Inn, alone on the road, start of their journey, Dream honorarily knighted Blue with his power as a prince. (That's why I refer to Blue as a Knight, even tho no one ever *actually* knighted him and he has no affiliations with any kingdoms.)

Dream was picky with who he recruited and when. He and Blue found a nice little abandoned cottage to start their base of operations, and would travel to recruit people they thought would be of value. Dream wasn't versed in espionage or inner-working over the government, but he knew how to talk to crowds. Sway the people. Plus, feeling emotions helped out too. (I like to think that's something the twins have naturally. Dream's grows with Age, and Night (due to lack of training) only has it when he's corrupted and very little hints when he's young.) So over the course of years, Dream gains more and more support. Like a militia among the neighboring countries as well as in Night's kingdom.

Ink and Cross came together. Ink had been looking for a new job, as he was a mercenary (though his talent was really in the arts) and Cross was a soldier who had left the kingdom a few rivers over that crumbled under a coup. Ink liked Dream's energy right from the start and was completely swayed with the idea of getting a lot of easy work for pay. Meanwhile Cross needed a new hope. Despite leaving a crumbling castle with no hope, Dream seemed to be working towards a better future in this kingdom. Of course he joined him, because that meant he'd live to see an era of peace. (<- of course, Cross finds out this kingdom is actually banger and the current king was slowly working through improving each piece of it, ensuring the whole kingdom could thrive one piece at a time.)

Dream never stopped training, and over the years he lost track of just how different Night was. He lost the script, a bit. His childish mind turning Night's actions all those years ago into a conspiracy. He had an echo-chamber of support, with no outside voice (no Nightmare) to remind him of the truth.

This cottage remains their base, and expands into a small town/camp. Nightmare is taken here when Dream kidnaps him from the castle the first time, too. This place is filled with plants and magic and is thriving. The perfect place to find the golden king.

[lilyrizzy]

day number eight, for @catofthecanals289 as always, a continuation of this. cw: incest (but like, not reaaaalllly imo lol)

just quickly before we get to the fic...to be honest, i did get upset when I saw someone had used the prequel of this fic/my idea as a prompt in the kink meme to ask for another maxiel story before I got the chance to write and post this. I wanted to be the bigger person and let it go but I just need to say, if you are going to use my stories/fics/ideas to prompt/write, it would be great if you could give them proper credit, and even better, ask me first!

Now, onto the porn!!!

The first time Max had found himself pressed between the bodies of Lord and Lady Ricciardo, he had been nervous with his desire to please them both.

As instructed, Michelle had returned to the queen’s chambers with Daniel in tow, their fingers laced together. Honey-on-honey, so sweet Max was sure his fingertips would come away sticky when he touched either of them, but not sweet enough to allow his hammering heart slow.

In the golden glow of the lamplight standing side by side, they had looked more enticing than any temptress his mother’s silly Fabels had warned him against as a boy. Nudging him forward, Michelle had put her brother between them, an offering of sorts. The perfect blend of hard edges and strength that Max had dared to dream about, wrapped up in a real warmth that he ached to reach out and touch, to feel beneath his fingertips.

Max’s for the taking.

“My lord,” Daniel had said as Michelle continued to guide him forward with the same gentle hand she had used on Max’s skin moments earlier.

Daniel was wearing a shy smile that Max knew was all a show; he’d seen the sultry smiles and lingering glances Daniel had directed Max’s way since arriving at his court. Had watched the eager way his hands danced through the air as he told Max’s men another scandalous story, had heard the laugh that accompanied the tales, demanding the attention of the room.

He’d still had Michelle’s words echoing in his ears; we have shared men before.

But Max was not any other man.

“Your king,” Max had corrected him, daring to take a step closer. He’d made sure to let his face settle into a teasing smile because he’d wanted to see Daniel return it with his own. His real one.

When he had, it had given Max the courage for another step, and then to take Daniel’s chin into his hand, to tilt his head back as though appraising goods at the market. 

“My king,” Daniel had said then. Now he says it also, in exactly the same way. Dutiful. Max hasn’t known how to want anything else since the first time he heard it.

Then, it had been Max who had leaned in to fit their mouths together, still holding Daniel’s face. Since, there has been many more kisses shared, nights made endless with the pleasure of learning each other between sheets that both did and did not contain Daniel’s sister. Enough time for Max to fall in love.

Now, it’s Daniel who advances his touches. 

Already, his front is pressed flush to Max’s back, their skin sweat-damp in every place they touch, but his hands are still seeking more. They trail down Max’s chest, grazing a nipple with his ragged thumbnail. His fingertips dance over Max’s stomach, searching for the ridges below his layers of softness. Riders muscle, Daniel likes to call it with the wicked grin Max might just burn his kingdom to the ground for.

Eventually, Daniel’s hands settle lower. They tangle into Max’s pubic hair, just above where he is moving in and out of Michelle.

With her cheek pressed into the satin of her bedsheets, each thrust punches a gasp from her that heightens the desire cresting in Max’s belly, just as much as her brothers hands. Her hair is spread out across the skin of her arched back, a waterfall of curls. They are covering the beauty mark she wears on her left shoulder, the one Max knows Daniel shares with her. Max has had them both in this position- face down and arse up- for him before.

 With his chin hooked over Max’s shoulder, Daniel’s lips move steadily against the shell of his ear to remind him of this.

“Not so different from behind, I suppose, your Majesty.”

The breathy laugh that escapes from Max’s throat doesn’t hide the stutter of his hips. It makes Daniel giggle too, a sweet sound so different than his booming laugh in court. Max has become accustomed to indulging in it on the nights his sister does not join them in bed.

“I think perhaps my ass is slightly better,” Michelle lifts her head to tease. At the same time, her hand snakes between herself and the bed to begin to touch herself.

Max knows she is just as desperate for this to take as he is. She wants to lie with her own lover without the fear of a bastard child, or their own’s legitimacy being called into question by jealous members of the court.

There are already the half-true rumors over why Max had her brothers chambers moved so close to their own.

Behind Max, Daniel’s hips are moving in time with his. The hard length of him is settled against Max, rutting across the place he longs to have Daniel inside, but- Not with Michelle here.

That is kept for the two of them only, but it doesn’t stop Max yearning for it.

“Daniel,” he whimpers, tilting his head back against his shoulder, giving his lips more room to roam.

Foolishly, he wants to say something about how Daniel will somehow be as much a part of this baby as Michelle, as Max. He longs for Daniel to look at it and see his child. It is wrong, perhaps, but he is the king. The rules are his to make and break.

Daniel has always been good at knowing this.

“Close your eyes, Maxy,” he says, and the sudden switch to the tenderness this private nickname allows has Max groan, following orders where he would follow no others. “Give me your hands.”

To obey, Max has to stop the desperate thrusting of his hips. In the sudden stillness, he hears more clearly the panting of his own breath, of Michelle’s beneath him. Daniel takes his hands, and moves one into her hair.

“I like it when you pull it,” he whispers, and this is something Max has indeed discovered about Daniel, threading his hands into his curls as he has knelt before Max’s thrown to demonstrate his devotion to the crown.

Max does as instructed, is rewarded with a pulsing around his cock that has him groan.

Daniel chuckles low into his ear.

“You like that, don’t you,” he teases. “How tight I am around you.”

“Yes,” Max gasps, as Daniel leads Max’s other hand, to hold his- no, Michelle’s- waist.

“You like my hips too, don’t you,” Daniel continues, guiding Max’s fingertips to feel the wide expanse of smooth skin. “They are perfect for bearing your child, I think.”

Behind the darkness of his eyelids, Max can play along with the pretend. He can imagine it is Daniel he begins to thrust into again, that it is his skin and curls beneath his fingertips, and that finally, it is his hole that milks him dry.

As though tipped over the edge watching Max’s orgasm, Daniel’s own follows quickly, a sticky and steady pulse coating the skin of Max’s ass. When they have left Michelle’s bed and returned to theirs in the King’s chambers, Daniel will clean Max up with his mouth, will let Max suck the taste of it from his tongue, but now-

Daniel reaches past Max, for Michelle. With a steadying hands on her waist, he helps to lift her upright, until her back is pressed to Max’s chest, as Max’s is to Daniel’s. It causes Max to slip from her, and he feels the rush of wetness that follows against the tops of his thighs.

Now it is Max’s turn to watch with his chin hooked over a shoulder. Daniel takes Max’s hand again, and this time moves it to her cunt. By now, he has taught Max how to bring her pleasure, but still it is together that their fingers moving expertly between her folds. The way she grinds herself back against Max has him twitching, despite there being nothing left to spill inside her. 

“There is no one else I would trust with her,” Daniel says, voice low but Max knows it is for the both of them to hear. “Or with you. You are both too precious to me.”

She comes with a shudder, just as Daniel’s lips find Max’s for a final, bruising kiss. Then, he tilts Max’s lips towards those of his wife, Daniel’s sister, as though to seal the love all three of them share, that nobody else would dare to understand.

Max kisses her and feels like a king. 

[illneverrecover]

TW: Just a heads up, this will be about death and grief. If that's not something you can handle right now, then please skip over this and keep yourself safe 💜

I'm not sure why I'm writing this.

It's not why anyone is here, not why anyone follows me or this page. It's not even the reason I created this godforsaken tumblr to begin with (that honor goes to Dylan O'Brien and Teen Wolf). But I felt like I needed to say something, and I didn't know where else to say it.

One of my good friends that I've known since high school passed away two weeks ago. Not from any sort of underlying health issue, or a sudden, unfortunate accident. But because she was struggling so hard with postpartum depression, and decided that it would be less painful if she went to sleep and didn't wake up.

We didn't know she was struggling, I didn't know she was struggling. She had reached out to me only two weeks prior, telling me that she missed me and we lived too close to each other to never see each other, and proposed a Twilight movie marathon (which I had gladly accepted). She was going to message me dates, we made plans for lunch, and she ended it by saying "yay!! can't wait!".

And then, before I realized, it was too late to say anything else.

Being a mother is hard. Being a mother to two young kids, both under two, while trying to build your career, be successful, and be a good wife is even harder.

But it gets easier. I promise it does.

I have a lot of regrets and a lot of guilt. I have a lot of things I wish I could say to her one more time -- and then I feel guilty for thinking that my words could ever be that important, that they would even matter on that kind of scale.

I know that depression lies. It is a liar. It's nefarious; its call, soft, sleepy and welcoming, comforting almost. It feels easy to lay in its embrace, to let yourself be swallowed by the darkness, let the echo chamber of your worst thoughts sing you a haunting lullaby until it feels like nothing matters. Until you rather just not exist.

But that lullaby is a poison, filled with deception and misdirection. It's intentionally vague, dragging out its notes so that it seemingly doesn't ever end. What it doesn't include is how beautiful the background music can be, when you finally are able to stop and breathe enough to hear it. How relaxing it can be to sing along to the melody, when you are clear-headed and no longer sleep deprived to learn the lyrics. How much fun it is to let go and dance along to the music, when you're able to recharge and take time for yourself.

Those things all come with time. I promise they do. It does get easier. Not always right away, not always all at once, but soon you'll find each breath you take is a little deeper, each step you take a little bit lighter.

If you're reading this, and you have found yourself struggling with similar dark thoughts - please, please, reach out to someone. A trusted friend, a teacher, a neighbor, your physician, a counselor. SOMEONE. Please ask for help, and please utilize the resources available. There is no shame for asking for help, especially in today's climate of fuckery -- it's hard out there for everyone.

But please, please stay. I want you to stay. I promise you there are people out there who also want you to stay, but even if you don't believe that, believe that I don't want to be in a world where you don't exist.

One of the last messages my friend sent to me during our final conversation was about how she was going to send me dates ASAP, because "we're gonna commit to this because that's what I'm doing this year! Committing to happy things!"

I think about those words a lot. I think about what she was feeling in those moments when messaging me, and what she was feeling only two weeks later, when she felt so painfully alone. If I think about it too much, it consumes me and shatters my heart.

So instead, I try to remember that message - it wasn't the last thing she texted me, but it does feel like her final message all the same. To commit to happy things this year. To try and do things that unabashedly bring me joy, because I deserve to.

My wish for you all is to commit to more happy things, this year and every year. To dare to feel joy, to seek out things solely because you want to, and not because of any perceived outcome. And to tell your loved ones how important they are to you, and how much you love them. It's all over far too soon, and the points don't matter, anyway. 💜

[lunareclipses-moments]

Everlast embrace

Warning: English is not my first language please inform me if there were any mistakes

Words : around 440

Malleus x femreader

In the quite serenity of the moonlit night , where the only sound you can hear is the chirping sound of the crickets paired with the soft glow of firefly lights illuminating the forest , behind the ramshackle dorm stood two figures.

A helpless magicless human girl who was dragged her against her will by random talking mirror, leaving her to bear the responsibility of a useless man who was never fit to be a principal

(AKA: dire Crowley) . and one of the most feared mages in twisted wonderland, malleus draconia.

A rustle in the bushes drew the fae from his deap thoughts , as the human girl steped in from of him with a smile that could rival thousand sun combined

"Hornton, I found away to go back to my world" grinning from ear to ear. " Can you believe it , oh i am over the moon " she exclaimed to him , her eyes filled with nothing but happiness. Unlike malleus whose those simple words shattered his heart and soul to tiny pieces , yet he can't let her know this , because he can't bear to see her upset or sad face so her buried his feeling aside for her sake

" Really , that's wonderful my dear child of man , when are you leaving?" His voice betrayed him as it cracked in his last sentence but the girl was to happy to notice

" Tomorrow morning" her cheerful voice that he used to fill him with happiness and warm , only filled him with dreed and sadness this time.

Noticing his sudden silent she turned to him

" Horton "

"Mal mal "

"Malleus "

She continued to call him hopping for some sort of reaction, but the next few minutes shook her to the core

"I'm fine," he assured her, but the melancholy in his gaze spoke volumes, echoing the silent ache of a heart in profound sadness.

" But I think I should leave for now , it's getting late and you should get some rest before your big day tomorrow " as his final words reached her ears the only thing she saw a faint glow of fireflies.

"But ,I haven't finished talking yet " in all reality the girl came to him hoping that ,he would stop her to tell her that her doesn't want her to leave to make her stay , he was the only reason she would stay in this , new strange world , but since he didn't want her maybe returning home is for the best . After all he was a prince , a strong one never less , and she was only ordinary girl . She would return to her ordinary life and he will rule of his kingdom one day .

That night , none of them had a brink of sleep, each one of them thinking about the other, and what would have happened if the simply talked about their true felling to each other, would they be comfortably cuddling while sharing embarrassing storiesthat happened to them.or would that simply scar the friendship that both of them worked hard to keep.

But that will only be though keeping them awake, till the first beams of light sneak their ways inside of every student room .

Putting her regrets and sorrow aside, the ramshackle perfect finally decided to get ready for her last day in twisted wonderland, after all she still wants in say goodbye to all the friends she made along her journey.

After a very tearful last goodbye with the ghosts of ramshackle and a promise to take care of grim until he graduates and to keep him out of troubles , the girl made her way to the mirror chambers where she met every student waiting for her there . Some crying, the others silent everyone was present there even idia , can you believe it . Except one person as usual

"Where is malleus" despite her stoic tone , everyone can clearly see the sadness and logging in her eyes . Yet no one wanted to answer that question. The room was silent to the point you can hear a pin drop . But deciding to ignore the elephant in the room,she spoke in sad tone with eyes glossed with tears

" I will miss you all , i will never forget you guys you were the best thing that happened tome , please take care of yourself and don't over work yourself, you guys are perfect just the way you are, until we meet again please don't forget me "

With a lot of tears and sobbing and a lot of group huggs the girls finally stepped into the mirror that brought her to twisted wonderland the first time,and the one that will return her to here world one last time .

Honestly I was brainstorming ideas and this came

So I hope those who read until here enjoyed my writing

Also if you want to request, requests are open please check my pinned post for more information

Thank you, hope you have a wonderful day/night

[hurricaneonanesthesia]

heywo happy monday!

may i request enemies to lovers where gn!reader gets an agent as a bodyguard assigned because they got captured as a strong radiant (Fade typa beat) (Yoru, Phoenix and Chamber)

excuse my bad english i hope it's readable 😔

Warnings: none

Genre: fluff

Pairing(s): Yoru x GN!Reader, Phoenix x GN!Reader, Chamber x GN!Reader

Authors Notes: hey there! your english is great, so not to worry ^^ ALSO IM ALIVE YOU GUYS I SWEAR, I DIDN’T DISAPPEAR OFF THE FACE OF THE EARTH 

this was kinda all over the place so i apologize 😭

_______________

Yoru

I’m gonna be honest, he’s an asshole to you. But I mean he’s an asshole to everyone around him a hot one at that though

So there you are, sitting in the interrogation room at what you presume is their headquarters and their leader walks in with someone else, a man who had a seemingly permanent scowl on his face.

You're informed that although you'd be joining the VP, you'll have someone to watch over you for the first few months of your stay there(you're fairly sure it's just to make sure you don't cause any unnecessary trouble.)

You come to find out that the man assigned to you is none other than Yoru himself, somewhat infamous for working alone even if he had over team members to work with him.

the two of you didn't really get along at first, the sound of your bickering could be heard echoing throughout the halls.

but also because of your capabilities, Yoru was also constantly trying to one up you and prove that he was the better radiant, and ultimately it just devolved into a big competition between the two of you

and in all of the time you spent together, its only natural that you guys would end up developing feelings for one another

yoru is a denier and he firmly denies that he has any sort of attraction to you when in actuality it's very, very obvious and jett and phoenix clown on him for it all the time

but nothing can hide the way that he stares at you fondly while watching you do your own thing

Phoenix

you didn't know what to think of him when you first met the man who said he would be keeping an eye on you, he was friendly to you and could keep a conversation which made you want to lower your guard, until you realized thats probably what the protocol wanted you to do.

phoenix is easy to talk to, he cracks jokes and overall lightens the mood as a whole. You wonder how someone like him ended up at a place like the VP, and how he manages to stay lighthearted despite the line of work he's in.

even with all of the walls that you’ve put up, he still somehow manages to worm his way into your heart. Every action he makes suddenly seems endearing to you, and you find yourself looking forward to hanging out with him

what really cemented and confirmed to yourself that you had fallen for him was a fairly precarious situation that happened on one of your missions together. 

You guys had gotten separated from each other and the rapid spraying of gunfire from every direction was definitely not helping. You did eventually manage to get out by utilizing your abilities but by the time you got to Phoenix, you found him sitting in a pool of his fire trying to heal up but he was fairly beaten up

After you secured the area, you spent the rest of the time you had before you guys were rescued holding his face in your hands and talking to him in a quiet voice, mainly about random things, but you were mostly doing it to make sure he would stay with you.

It scared you to admit it out loud but you genuinely had come to care for the man, and almost losing him made you realize it.

Chamber

the sussy man is your bodyguard?? I mean hey, he’s loaded, both in cash and in weapons

he’s very eloquent in the way that he speaks to you, holding you in high regard, you’re unsure of if it’s because he’s wary of your abilities so that’s the only reason why he’s acting genial with you.

and of course he’s a flirt, he manages to find ways to drop the fanciest pick up lines towards you. It’s not surprise that any person would probably end up falling for him

which is what you did

and you question yourself on whether or not a normal sane person would try to find ways to unfall for him LMAO

But alas you’re stuck battling your conflicting feelings for him

he likes to tease you a lot though, seeing you get all riled up is one of his favorite pastimes /hj

you might find it annoying but while you’re turned away, he can’t seem to hide the way his expression softens as he talks and banters with you

_______________

Want more of my writing? Be sure to check out my masterlist.

Wanna know what else I’ll write for? Here you go!

Thanks for reading and have a lovely day!

[mdzsfan]

Unspoken Bonds Part 3

GIF by lansizhuis on Tumblr

Y/n's heart was a swirl of conflicting emotions. The memory of that night, when she had left Lan Wangji after a forbidden gesture, weighed heavily on her conscience. The guilt that gnawed at her was a reminder of the boundary she had crossed, a boundary that was fortified by centuries of tradition and societal expectations.

Yet, even amidst her remorse, one question echoed persistently in her mind: Why hadn't he stopped her? The fact that Lan Wangji had allowed her to proceed with removing his forehead ribbon perplexed her. He was not her cultivation partner, nor was he family. The implications of his action were layered, a puzzle she couldn't solve.

The uncertainty she felt was a constant companion, a shadow that clouded her thoughts. She had sensed a connection between them, a shared understanding that defied explanation. But her own feelings, the tangle of emotions she couldn't fully comprehend, had prompted her to withdraw.

Avoidance became her strategy, a way to shield herself from the complexity of her emotions and the unspoken tension that had arisen between them. She limited her interactions with Lan Wangji, reserving them for emergencies, for moments when she had no choice but to acknowledge his presence.

In her heart, she understood that the distance she was putting between them was a means of self-preservation. The uncharted territory of their emotions was both alluring and terrifying, a maze she was hesitant to enter. Her guilt, her confusion, and her own burgeoning feelings were threads that wove an intricate pattern within her, shaping her actions and decisions.

As the days passed, the ache of their disconnectedness weighed on her. The moments of shared camaraderie, the laughter and the genuine companionship, had been replaced by a gulf of silence. And yet, despite her attempts to distance herself, the memory of his gaze, the depth of his eyes that seemed to hold secrets and promises, continued to haunt her.

Unable to find solace in slumber, y/n had ventured into Lan Wangji's chambers, the surroundings were as immaculate as she had come to expect, a testament to his meticulous nature, yet the evidence of his disarray was also apparent.

Lan Wangji himself seemed a reflection of the room's contrast. His appearance was marked by an uncharacteristic dishevelment, the usually pristine forehead ribbon now slightly wrinkly. His hanfu bearing wrinkles that seemed out of place on his dignified form. His very presence carried an air of turmoil that contradicted the orderliness of the room.

As y/n's gaze met his, a tension seemed to fill the space between them. Their eyes locked, two individuals who had been navigating a labyrinth of emotions, unsure of where the path might lead. The silence was palpable, a mirror to the unspoken questions and unfulfilled desires that had been left unresolved.

Each of them held a mirror to the other's confusion. Lan Wangji, with his furrowed brows and searching gaze, was a reflection of the bewilderment that had taken root within him. Why had y/n chosen to distance herself? The question echoed like a haunting melody, its notes filled with longing and uncertainty.

Y/n's gaze, though equally perplexed, was a window into her own internal struggle. The emotions that had led her to keep her distance were a tumultuous sea within her, a maelstrom of guilt, longing, and the unspoken acknowledgment of their shared connection.

As their eyes held the other's gaze, a strange sort of understanding seemed to pass between them. Their emotions, though complex and conflicting, were shared. In this silent exchange, they offered each other a glimpse into their hearts, a fleeting moment of vulnerability that transcended words.

"Why are you up this late?" His voice, a gentle ripple in the silence, cut through the tension that had enveloped them. The question hung in the air like a fragile thread, connecting them in the midst of their shared uncertainty.

"I couldn't sleep," y/n's words were soft, her gaze briefly meeting his before flickering away. Her answer was simple, yet beneath the surface, it carried the weight of unspoken thoughts and emotions. She was caught in the liminal space between her feelings and the reality of the situation, a space where answers were elusive and the heart's desires remained hidden.

His concern was evident, and yet y/n's resolve to leave, to give him the space he needed, was palpable. "But don't worry about me. I'll go now, so you can have enough rest tomorrow." Her words were a mixture of courtesy and selflessness, an embodiment of the care she felt for him.

"Wait," Lan Wangji's voice, though quiet, held a note of urgency that caught y/n off guard. His request to stay was unexpected, a plea that seemed to carry unspoken desires and a yearning for connection.

And so, she remained. Seated next to him, bathed in the soft glow of moonlight. The guqin, a cherished companion in the midst of his solitude, became an instrument of shared solace. As the notes flowed from his fingers, the music seemed to wrap around them, a bridge that transcended the barriers that had kept them apart.

The soothing melody was a balm for y/n's restless soul. She closed her eyes, allowing the strains of the guqin to guide her into a tranquil state. The tension that had once held her captive seemed to dissipate, replaced by a sense of calm that was both welcome and surprising.

In that moment of vulnerability, as the music danced in the air, the barriers between them seemed to thin. Lan Wangji's gaze rested upon her, a mixture of tenderness and longing in his eyes. As the guqin's gentle notes continued to weave their magic, he pressed a gentle kiss to her forehead, a silent gesture that spoke of affection and a depth of emotion he had been hesitant to reveal.

The kiss, though fleeting, lingered in the air like an unspoken promise. A promise of a future where their emotions would no longer be shrouded in uncertainty. It was a declaration, a hope that one day, the feelings they shared would be acknowledged and reciprocated.

When y/n awoke, she found herself back in her own room, the memory of the night's events lingering like a dream. The guqin's melody, the touch of his lips on her forehead, the unspoken emotions, all were woven into the fabric of her thoughts, a reminder that the path they were on was one filled with twists and turns, challenges and revelations.

Another moment, where y/n knew that she was in love with Lan Wangji was when y/n found herself standing beside Lan Wangji in a place that held special significance for him. It was a spot where the gentle breeze seemed to whisper secrets and where the rustling leaves were like a symphony of serenity. Here, in the embrace of nature's beauty, their connection was unburdened by the weight of expectations and norms.

Bunnies, a symbol of innocence and gentleness, populated the area, hopping around as if they were the guardians of this sacred place. Y/n's heart swelled with a mixture of awe and wonder, for this was a side of Lan Wangji she had rarely seen, the side that found solace in the presence of these small creatures, the side that was capable of finding joy in the simplest of moments. 

"Lan Zhan," y/n's voice, soft and filled with wonder, broke the silence that had enveloped them. "They're so cute."

His response was a slight smile, a rare glimpse of emotion that danced in his eyes. The simplicity of her words, the shared admiration for the bunnies that surrounded them, seemed to bridge the gap between their unspoken emotions.

As y/n's gaze remained fixed on the creatures that had become a part of their shared moment, her heart felt light. The world seemed to have receded, leaving only her and Lan Wangji, the bunnies, and the feelings that flowed between them.

And then, in a moment that held both longing and a childlike delight, she turned to him, her eyes bright with a new thought. "Could we take one back with us?"

Lan Wangji's response was gentle, his eyes fixed on her as he considered her request. "The bunnies have to stay here," he explained, his tone soft yet firm. And yet, his next words held a promise that couldn't be overlooked. "But we can stay as long as you want."

With a mischievous yet affectionate smile, y/n caught a bunny and placed it on Lan Wangji's lap. The gentle creature seemed content in his presence, its soft fur a contrast against his hanfu. As he patted the bunny, his touch was tender, his actions a reflection of the depths of his emotions.

In that moment, it was as if time had slowed, and the world had faded away, leaving only the two of them. Their shared connection, the tranquil surroundings, and the unspoken feelings that lingered in the air. The barriers that had once kept them apart were now mere shadows, and the vulnerability they had guarded so carefully was now exposed.

As their gazes met, the bond between them seemed to crystallize. There were no words exchanged, no need for explanations. The bunnies bore witness to a silent understanding, a connection that was unmarred by expectations or societal conventions. In this secluded corner of the world, they were free to be themselves, to acknowledge the feelings that had grown between them.

With a playful grin, she reclaimed the bunny from Lan Wangji's lap, the innocent creature now nestled against her. But her actions didn't stop there, her head finding its place on his lap, the bunny as a gentle companion to their unspoken connection.

As she settled into this unexpected closeness, the world seemed to hold its breath. The sun continued its watchful gaze, as if in awe of the intimacy that was unfolding beneath its silvery light

Lan Wangji's fingers, like a gentle breeze, brushed across her hair. The touch was a tender caress that stirred something within her, a mixture of comfort and a growing awareness of the emotions that had been building between them. And then, his lips pressed to her forehead and then her cheeks, his affectionate gestures speaking volumes in their silence.

The kisses were like whispered promises, a testament to the affection that had been growing quietly yet steadily. Each touch, each gesture, was a declaration, a declaration that went beyond words, beyond the confines of tradition, and into the realm of the heart.

For y/n, lying there in his embrace, time seemed to blur. The bunny, a symbol of innocence, nestled between them, seemed to be a witness to a moment that was both pure and profound. The sun's bright glow seemed to wrap around them, cocooning them in a world where nothing else mattered but the connection they shared.

[bangtannism]

this space is filled with jm solos and people who give too much thought to jm solo narratives

which is why i'm confused that jk biased jkkers (as that anon said even ones that are critical and weird towards jimin) were also upset with the way jk was acting. if it was just jm biased jkkers and solos, i could see it as people using jk for a ship and not liking/supporting him if he steps out of that "perfect boyfriend" and "jm's caretaker" narrative that isn't true or at least isn't ALL he is, but JK BIASED twisting his intentions and actions? that's just crazy....

idk if it's people now seeing jikook (and more so jk) outside of edits and fics or just taekook interacting, but it needs to stop before people become even worse jk (and tae/taekook) antis

i'd love to look at the jikook tag after a ays episode without being made to feel like i'm insane or "supporting bullying and abuse" 😭

there's a few things going on here.

like i mentioned, jm solo narratives permeate this part of fandom. it sucks, but it is what it is, and unfortunately these people tend to flock together, creating an echo chamber that can look to those outside of it as a popular opinion or consensus. the infantilizing of jm is not only maddening, but deeply disrespectful, and if these people really loved him, they wouldn't be doing it.

people are far too impressionable. this goes hand in hand with the first point, but people are swayed extremely easily and the more they see the same sort of opinion, the more they convince themself that the opinion is right. when ays episode 1 first dropped, the first few hours were peaceful and it was clear that the majority of people came away with a positive feeling. once a couple of negative opinions got posted, people started to latch onto that negativity, letting other people's feelings tarnish their experience, and soon it was all over the tag. jk was being weird, distant, uncaring, mean, etc.

the seedier people in this fandom feel vindicated whenever someone says some nasty opinion about a member/ship they dislike and it prompts them to get louder. think about how much more outspoken bigots get when they think they're around like minded people. every single time a shitty take gets posted, be that an original post or an anon message, more people feel that it's okay to also be shitty. this happened bad when tae was announced to be joining jkk in jeju. the tae antis were suddenly all over the damn tag like cockroaches. 🥾🪳

i do think there is a lot of people who are being forced to contend with the fact that jkk are not story book characters living a sacharrine sweet perfect fantasy life where all they do is cuddle and sing each other's praises. sorry to break it to these people (i'm not), but jm and jk are very real people who are a lot more complex than that. they are going to tease and joke and complain and argue and all the rest of the stuff that every other person does. they are also not going to be in the same mood 24/7 and that too is going to affect how they behave and interact. there is nothing concerning about how jkk (or vmk) have interacted on ays so far, let alone something that constitutes the label of abuse. that accusation actually pissed me off beyond belief, because abuse isn't a fucking term to throw around over someone being jokingly sprayed with water.

my best advice to anyone at this point is to use that block button freely and curate a good fandom space for yourself and others. and also just to remember that vmk love each other dearly and no amount of sad internet hate is going to change their reality.