Hiii I was just wondering if you have any update on your aerion/twin sister/daeron fic because the snippet you shared was amazing!! The dynamic between them is just so intriguing
Hi! Thank you so much!
I got a little derailed by Max Hastings, I'm not gonna lie, but the Aerion/twinsis/Daeron fic is one of my top priorities for Daeron! I'm not sure when I'll be posting any of the actual fic, but here's some more titbits from my notes for you in the meantime 🤭
Thank you again, so much, for your interest. I'm not the fastest or most consistent writer but I really do want to share these fics/ideas and I hope that folks like you will be around to enjoy them when I do! I'm also super happy that someone else loves this dynamic/finds it as interesting as I do!
CW: mentions of past SA, sibling incest, oral sex (f receiving), nsfw
Daeron doesn't feel comfortable having sex with you or touching you sexually when your trauma is so fresh. He doesn't want this to be something that makes you feel violated all over again, doesn't want to ruin things by rushing in before you're steady enough to know you're ready.
You're hypersexual and you keep waking from dreams/nightmares that leave you soaked but too repulsed to do anything about it, or so turned on that you touch yourself anyway and throw up afterwards because you feel filthy. You hate that even alone, thinking of things that are tender and wholly your fantasies, the feeling of arousal, of orgasm, leaves you feeling sick because your pleasure has not been clean or yours in so long. You want your body to belong to you again. The only place that feels safe to you is Daeron's arms.
You negotiate and settle on the idea that Daeron will hold you while you get yourself off, and talk you through it, because his voice and scent grounds you, keeps your mind from drifting into bad memories or just out of your body at the familiar sensations. It all feels… strangely thrilling and healing, the forced slowness — making out like teenagers and dry-humping, taking it by inches gives everything a different weight and significance and sometimes it feels as though you’re rewriting the past because it makes these things feel new to you. Wanting and being made to wait, being refused, instead of taken or worked up until your body is eager even if your mind isn’t. Mind and body together, for once, as the longing in your heart and head grows and grows until it eclipses the animal need of your body with something that feels sacred.
After you get off in his arms one time, Daeron cannot resist asking if he can clean your fingers, and you let him. he is so obviously affected by the taste of you that you’re a little shocked, curious. the feeling of his tongue and the way he groans, hips rocking instinctively against you, goes straight to your throbbing clit.
“Do you… do I really taste that good…?”
Daeron laughs, leans in and pauses long enough for you to refuse before kissing you and sharing the taste with you.
“What do you think?”
“I like that you taste like me,” you murmur. “But it doesn’t do anything for me on its own.”
“You taste—” he tells you, and his hand covers nearly a whole half of your head as he kisses you with almost feral intensity, “— fucking incredible. I could come just from eating you out.”
You think about his head between your thighs, his hips rolling against the bed while he whimpers and whines and digs his fingers into you.
“Do you want to?” you ask, breathless.
He stops. you feel him shift in some internal way, perhaps bracing against himself as he replies. “Don’t. Don’t ask that. We agreed—”
“But Aerion—” you blurt, inhale because his name always cuts your tongue on the way out. “He never— well, once— He didn’t do that. I haven’t. That’s…”
Daeron is very still, except for the rise and fall of his chest where you are huddled against him. It hitches, then quickens suddenly, as the thought seems to land that there is something — mostly — untouched by Aerion. Something for the two of you alone.
“Are you sure?”
His voice is shaking, eyes huge and nearly black as he searches your face for any hint of hesitation. his hand trembles where it cups your face, and you lean into it, letting the slow smile spread. You feel certainty settle into you, warm and steady and comfortable, the way it always seems to when Daeron is fraying at the seams — the same way it seems to for him when you’re coming apart, as if there’s some intrinsic balance between the two of you. You nip at the pad of flesh below his thumb and grin, and all the careful architecture of his abnegation collapses on itself in an instant.
He groans, kisses you, hard — harder than he meant to, because he softens it immediately and you can taste the apology. He shifts, curving his body over yours, weight braced on one arm and then both, and the knee he sets between your thighs. Breaks the kiss, balances himself on both knees as he grasps your hips, moves you up the bed until you’re half-sitting, half-laying against the mound of pillows against the headboard. Then he is kissing down your neck, scraping his teeth over your collarbone to trail open-mouthed kisses around one breast, your ribs, your belly.
There’s an intensity to it that he’s reigned in on every other occasion, and you realise that being given permission has snapped something in him. It frightens you for half a heartbeat, the way he’s not holding back, maybe cannot hold back, but he has buried his face against the soft swell of fat in your lower belly, nuzzling, and his thumbs are rubbing soothing crescents just inside your hipbones, and there is so much devotion in how he looks up at you before he settles between your thighs that the feeling is gone before it fully forms.
you card your fingers through his hair and his eyes close briefly as he leans into it, reverent, before they open again and fix unerringly on yours as he opens his mouth. He kisses your cunt open-mouthed, your still-sensitive clit pillowed against his upper lip as his tongue sinks into you, the tip tip teasing your clenching hole before the flat of it sweeps soft and slow and fat up, up, back into his mouth as his lips close over your clit, tongue steady and flexing against the underside and — oh, fuck, Dae— Daer! — gods, the suction.
some musings on sub!max hastings from earlier today (nsfw)
p.s. for those of you waiting on the max hastings noncon fic, i am still working on it! it's grown a bit beyond what i planned for so i've had to rework things, oops.
rough snippet I wrote last night instead of sleeping, about Max Hastings being noncon'd by Reader
this scenario is eating my brain and I wrote this to capture the vibes I'm going for
c/w: aftermath of rape, no actual sex, everything is noncon, face slapping, breathplay/choking, loss of consciousness, implied captivity/kidnapping
“Pity,” you sigh, patting his face and leaning back to survey the pretty picture you've made of him.
He's all in shades of red and pink: high on his cheekbones and the tip of his nose, flushed all down his throat and chest, the pink indentations of your teeth ringing his areola, nipples dark and swollen like berries ready to burst. His lips are bitten raw — not quite bleeding, but his mouth looks like a wound you’d love to sink your fingers into, fuck deep with your tongue if you could trust him not to bite it off.
He won't look at you, has his face turned away and his lashes lowered over wet, sea-glass eyes rimmed red and shot with burst capillaries, jaw set in stubborn anger and pride. None of it hides how his mouth trembles, the mess of snot and tears still sliding down his face and onto the pillow. He looks so beautiful.
“You were made for this,” you tell him softly, running your knuckle tenderly along his jaw, watching his lip twitch up in a sneer, defiant in spite of how he’d sobbed and pleaded. “So lovely like this, Max. Why did you have to make it so difficult on yourself, mm?”
“Fuck you, you fucking cunt.” He looks at you then. Snaps his head around and snarls, eyes hot and fierce with loathing.
You slap him immediately, so hard he looks dazed when you seize his throat and force him to look at you. You hold it, stare down impassively until the shock bleeds into anger and then fear, then panic, when he realises that the world is starting to dim at the edges. He bucks under you, thrashes against your hold like a wild animal, but all you do is raise yourself off him and reinforce your grip with your other hand. If he could, he'd be begging. He has that look in his eyes. The desperation of someone who understands his life is in the hands of someone who would happily snuff it out. More tears roll down his cheeks. He's near purple now, tongue writhing helplessly in his uselessly open mouth. You wait until the light gutters out in his eyes and his body goes slack, limp, and then you ease up, keep your fingers on his desperate pulse, checking, waiting.
He comes back with a moan, low and quiet, wet lashes fluttering, chest heaving. He sobs when you cup his cheek and smear the tears there with your thumb. When he looks at you this time, you like his expression much better. He has such pretty eyes, especially when he looks at you like a beaten dog.
“Say thank you,” you order, gently.
“Th-thank you,” he responds, a little slow, but he's still realising he's not dead, so you'll allow it.
“Thank you…?”
“I…” he blinks, brows drawing together anxiously.
He's such an expressive thing. You really just might do something stupid and keep him, if you can train the bite out of him.
“I don't… don't know—”
You increase the pressure again, more to test his response than because he's displeased you. He whines in fear, pressing his head back into the pillow, away from you, eyes huge.
“Please! I'm sorry! I'm sorry I don't know what—”
“Thank you,” you tell him. “For correcting me when I'm bad. Thank you for the air you allow me to breathe.”
He gapes at you for a moment. You can tell he's calling you a mad cunt in his head again, but, well. Training was a process.
i saw someone saying on twitter about a woman who said that her boyfriend was so nervous when propose her that he forgot everything and ended up just getting on his knees saying “please”.
i hope every writer who reads this makes the best of it
Making this series a masterlist so everything is in one spot!
Thank you for the support on this series! I know the last part took me a while to write, but I really enjoyed developing their relationship a bit more than I had in the previous parts.
Part One Part Two Part Three
Also, for vibes, here's a playlist I made (still a wip, i will probably add more songs!):
Part One:
Living Dead Girl
Heavy Metal Lover
4 Morant
Part Two:
Angel
Shame
In My Room
Lilith
Part Three:
Master of None
Back To Me
On This Love
Cherry Waves
Be Like a Woman (this song may seem out of place, but, for them, I just adore the lyrics "Stay out at night, see who you wanna see. Do what you want, but be like a woman to me.")
if you have not read this, and you're a Daeron fan, you really really need to 🤩
fr @saeransangel writes such an enthralling dynamic that just gets juicier and more intense the longer this series goes on 💕 Her dialogue is a particular joy to read -- got me kicking my feet and grinning!
The Max Hastings noncon fic where reader is keeping him locked in the basement as a sex pet is now at least five parts. Season two has reinvigorated me 🙏 he is suffering wonderfully and Stockholm syndrome is going to start kicking in soon!
Also, feel free to say hi or drop your nasty Max thoughts in my inbox -- ask is open and anon is enabled until someone ruins it for everyone. Who knows, i might be inspired :)
"youve already written that trope" yesss. i like it a lots. i will be writing it again. 1000 stories of the same trope over and over again for ten million years
i feel there is so much untapped potential in pipmax stepsiblings AU
like, pip's mum rushes into a relationship + marriage while grieving, and realising only after she's fallen pregnant/given birth again the type of man she's married.
it takes a few years for her to actually divorce Toby because she knows with his wealth and connections, she's risking losing custody of Pip and NewSibling, so Max and Pip grow up together for a few years.
Max is a shit because, well, he's Max and in this version of things his mother is dead (Toby is responsible, though whether it's straight up murder or some kind of manslaughter, idk). Leanne actually makes an effort with him, though, because he is just a kid at this point and she's realised his dad is fucking awful.
Max actually does end up quite attached to Leanne, which only makes the divorce feel like a complete betrayal and abandonment to him. He's furious and hurt and definitely resents Pip/NS because Leanne of course fights for custody of her kids (Toby does not GAF about Pip, but he does not want Leanne to 'win' & NS is 'his' kid in his eyes).
He eventually agrees to split custody of Pip and NS, but won't even discuss Max. I'm imagining he's like 15/16 at this point? Pip and NS spend whatever time -- weekends presumably -- with Toby. Max is, I think, too angry to visit/stay with Leanne if Toby would allow it (I feel like he'd restrict him from overnight visits at the very least just bc controlling dickhead?), and initially is a shit to Pip about it.
The Pip&Max dynamic was always turbulent because he absolutely would bully her but then play nice bc he wanted approval/affection from Leanne. I feel like that repeats after the divorce, with Max toeing the line for crumbs of parental attention.
Everything crime-wise still plays out the same, except this time Pip is closer to it bc she's properly met everyone involved w/ Max's part of things.
I'm imagining in this version of events, she was actually at the house the night Andie died, but still on the fringes -- studying upstairs, but came down to tell Max to stfu and knew Sal was there after 10:30. Definitely imagining that Max gaslights the fuck out of her about it and when she tries to tell the cops the truth, gets everyone to agree that they'd let Pip drink and she wasn't sober that night to give a reliable statement.
Also her being a little closer to Sal because they'd crossed paths at Max's house more etc, maybe meeting Ravi earlier because of it. Max being a controlling and weirdly possessive freak about it -- whether she has a baby crush on Ravi or genuinely just thinks he's a nice guy who doesn't treat her like a nuisance -- Max would absolutely make her feel awful about it.
Just in general I feel like if Pip had actually known Max prior to canon, esp if she had some positive memories of him (I can see there being times where he was genuinely really upset about his dad, where Pip was kind to him, times where he played video games w/ her etc), it would make that dynamic even more interesting and complicated when she starts picking apart the truth of things.
Like. God.
Realising her step brother, who she hasn't always had the best relationship with and yeah she does think he's a shitty person -- but a rapist?
Because he does, I think, hide it well. Predators and abusers often do. Not perfectly, obviously, especially because he did not see Pip as a threat initially... but if he'd grown up with her a bit and knew how ridiculously determined and clever she could be from the jump?
Then of course there's the actual PipMax potential of it all, which I definitely think would be one-sided from Max, but jesus is there dead dove potential here. Max's corruption kink. Pip staying at the house regularly, feeling like she can't leave NS alone with Toby + that Max won't protect them like she will.
Max having a bunch of jealous/envious/resentful feelings towards her but also a sense of possessiveness because he has a warped idea of what being an older brother means + she's his strange thing to tease and torment for interesting reactions
also some great AU potential with Pip realising that Max's mother's death is suspicious as fuck and uncovering all that -- given that his mother died earlyish in his life, here, I think he would cling to the idea that he was loved + his dad took that from him by killing her.
I can see them working together to figure it all out once Max realises Pip's onto something, and Max getting very obsessed with her + the emotional intimacy of unpacking his trauma/grief with her leading him to fixate on her romantically and sexually. Especially because I think she would, this being prior to learning that Max is a remorseless rapist, become more sympathetic + offer compassion seeing him learn his mother was murdered (or died as a result of his father's actions at least, rather than an accident)
max hastings x reader soulmates/soulmarks AU where your soulmark manifests the first time you have sex with your soulmate
you wake up the day after a Calamity party with no real memory of what happened the night before, a nauseating pain between your thighs, and a brand new soulmark staining your skin
i once read a fic with a similar concept (soulmates AU where you know the first words the other says to you, and you hear them in the aftermath of your rape) and i find the concept so intriguing.
also ngl the idea of deaddoving popular AUs/tropes like soulmates is quite fun
tfw you're getting your period so your brain just stops working for a week and then you get your period and it continues not working for a week so you've got half the month to be normal if you're LUCKY
a!Daeron being forced to participate in a mating hunt, planning to just find a quiet hollow to hide out in until it's over and he can disappoint his father yet again by 'failing' to secure an omega mate -- only for a!reader to track him down, pin him to the forest floor and mark him all over with their scent and teeth. everywhere but his actual scent gland, because among nobility that is always done publicly (to protect omegas from unworthy/unwanted mate-bonds, supposedly)
or the alt version where alphas cannot (legally or biologically, your choice) mate other alphas, so reader bitches Daeron into an omega and drags him back to Maekar to confirm the mating
i wish antis understood that for a lot of darkshippers/whatever, the appeal of adult/minor and incest ships and whatever else is the wrongness. is the taboo. it's that it isn't normal, acceptable, moral.
they worry so much about 'normalising' taboo things, but that would probably strip the appeal for most of us?
god I just love incest ships. the pining, the disgust at their own feelings, the secrecy and the 'we can't tell anyone about this', the way it all comes together so intensely... it all hits so good
Never do I feel more like an incurable weirdo than when I look up an incest ship on ao3 and it's solely hardcore smut.
Like. no. unfortunately, I am not a gooner searching up the freakiest shit I can imagine to get off and immediately never think about again in the post-nut clarity of moral normalisation. It is much worse: I, in my most sober of right-minded states, unironically want to read 30k and up words about these two blood-related siblings falling in love and getting together as a couple.
I respect your in-the-moment fetish-driven fap material. What I want is so much more bizarre, more unnatural, more impossible to explain to any normal person: I don't just want to see these family members fuck nasty. Regrettably, unabashedly, I want to see them make love.
