Work Text:
Why am I dismembering a man right now, Helaena? Do you understand how fucking disgusting this is? Do you understand how time-consuming this is? Do you know the lengths to which I went to get access to tools that could cut through bone? Do you understand how fucking heavy human limbs are?
By the time you examine them on the body farm, I imagine they aren’t nearly as heavy, given what your precious bugs do to a corpse in the time it takes your team to find it.
Fuck, now all I can think about is the time I offered to watch your presentation for the symposium on states of bodily decay, and how excited you were about all the pictures you included for each state of decomposition and larvae growth and-
Now I’ve just made myself sick again.
I can’t count how many times I’ve had to use the spit bucket at this point, love. The residual bile in my throat is my best friend now. Every time I cough, every time I breathe I can feel acid-ridden chunks of the chips I had for lunch.
And yet. Did you really think I wouldn’t go this far?
Arryk was no good for you - you should’ve seen the videos he shared with his creepy twin, love, the ones of you sitting on those dragoncock dildos he bought you, should’ve seen how he spoke about you with Erryk.
You didn’t see the weird twin shit they planned to play on you, Helaena. And now he’s gone, you won’t have to deal with his bullshit, whether you knew it or not.
I should’ve never let you date him, Helaena. It’s my fault for even putting you in the line of fire to get hurt like this. I should’ve had better judgment, should’ve vetted him more thoroughly, should’ve known better than to trust a military guy working on a police beat when he asked if you’d even consider dating him.
I only slapped him against a filing cabinet - it was barely blunt-force trauma.
Do you really want a man who goes down this easily protecting you, sweet sister? This man had a Prince Albert, Helaena. He was double-jointed, Helaena. You really wanted to get with this fucking loser-arsewipe, Helaena?
I’m doing this for you, sweet sister, so that you don’t quit your job, your passion, so you can keep doing what you love. I know you hate putting it in these terms - the macabre, the desire for more dead (because what normal person would wish there were more dead people, right, sister?) for you to open up and experiment on - because you’re doing this sick shit for a good cause , babe, and I respect you for it, but now I’ve done your job a bit, I can’t understand how you can dare text me that you’re hungry for anything during your shifts. You’re sick. You’re absolutely twisted.
I love you.
You make this so easy, Helaena, with your job. Did you even recognize your former boyfriend, did you even connect the dots when a new body arrived on the farm like, literally right after he disappeared?
Did you even care that he was gone? Or, did you only care for me, like I only care for you?
I’ll never forget the way you threw yourself in my arms, the feel of your lips buried in my throat, crying about Arryk’s sudden departure, the uncertainty you felt, the way you clung to me.
Why do they always ghost like this? you always ask.
I’ll also never forget the way you single-mindedly inhaled your burrito, how you leaned into me, how you glared so coldly when I asked if we should talk more about Arryk. Like the food in your belly soothed it all. Like you were only hangry.
If you’re meaning to pretend like you cared about him at all, you’re not doing a very good job, sweet sister. I’ve been with other girls, comforted them when they cried, when they were scared. Normal girls don’t roll their arse against you when they’re so terrified by a horror film that they have to crawl into your lap to hide their faces. Normal girls don’t even crawl in your lap when they’re scared - they’re too scared to move. Normal girls don’t even watch horror films when they’re sad.
Don’t take me for a fool, Helaena. We both know nobody’s whimpers actually sound pornographic like that - breathy, right in my ear, tugging on my hair - when they’re scared. We both know what you wanted then.
I think sometimes you forget that I’m not just another one of your boys, sweet sister. I was growing in mom no sooner than she healed from bringing you to life. I was made for you. We grew up together. I know you, and I know you’re not this fucking demure.
You’re weird , Helaena, you’re batshit in the best way.
Besides, you’ve got to be more careful, Helaena - we’re far too old for you to be sitting in my lap expecting me to not react. Are you like this with all your boys, Lanie? How fast do they expect to undress you, with how you’re acting?
You’re lucky I’m only your brother. I’d be the first one to tear your clothes off and plant you on my cock where you belong.
I don’t regret killing Arryk, sweet sister. Do you? Do you even miss him? From the way you were flirting with Kermit at Dad’s last banquet, I’d be stupid to think so; which, by the way, please don’t think for a second I’m not thrilled to see you putting yourself out there.
Finally, at your big age, you’re embracing your beauty, like we’ve all been noticing, your charm, the way you command attention with the tiniest move of the muscles around your eyes (and the way you’re so smart, you’d know what those muscles are called) and Kermit isn’t such a bad guy and he’d be lucky to have you -
He was looking at you all wrong, though.
(Not that I can blame him, because how can you wear that gorgeous little chain-metal number over only a tiny black slip and expect us to not look at the way your tits are begging to spill out, the way it might actually break from how tight those gorgeous hips pull on the chains -)
He’s looking at you wrong , because you’re mine , Lanie, and Kermit doesn’t stand a chance, with or without me.
Did I need to kick him down those stone stairs out back?
Probably not.
I could tell you hated him. I could’ve just told him to fuck off after he dragged his hand too low on your hip, after you looked at him so horrified, after he tried to hold you in place when you looked like you’d rather run.
But.
But was it also easy as fuck to plant Aegon’s ketamine on him, drive him a couple miles out and into the lake? Yes.
And, was it believable? Abso-fucking-lutely.
And did I then get to clean up and have your waist tucked in the crook of my elbow on the dance floor not an hour later? Also yes. Already worth it.
And then, sweet sister, you told me the sweetest thing to ever pass your lips, the thing that I would kill my university flatmate a thousand times over just to hear:
“Thank you for getting rid of that asshole for me.”
Gods, Lanie, I am so gone on you.
Modern technology is a fucking blessing. So, so cheap too. Do you know that a pair of AirTags costs less than our Sunday brunch? Perhaps you don’t, since you never see the bill, and haven’t looked at the menu in years.
You’re such a creature of habit, and it was so easy to plant these in your car: 8:30pm, you’re too busy getting your daily knitting in, too busy blasting fucking Nightwish to hear me taking off your hubcap.
Is it a bit creepy? Sure. But I’m only doing this for your own safety since you move so fast through these guys that I can barely keep track of who you’re seeing this week. You can never be too safe around strange men, sister. Good thing you have me watching out for you.
And, while we’re talking creepy, I think Maris is a fucking creep, Helaena. Do you hear how weird she fucking sounds, digging into your personal life, asking, what’s the deal with your brother , like being your “work bestie” gives her any grounds to dig into our lives like that?
That bitch had the nerve to look you in the eyes and say, he’s always sniffing around you , like I’m not your fucking family. Like I’m not right around the corner, like I didn’t dutifully also bring lunch for that cunt just because you asked.
We had a tough childhood , you say. He’s just looking out for me , you say. It could be a lot worse , you say. Yes, Helaena, it could be a lot worse. And your friend has got to go.
This is why I love modern tech, Lanie: we think we know so much about it, but nobody really cares to know how it works, nobody stops to think because we like to pat ourselves on the back for how complex our tech has gotten, when it’s actually dinosaur shit.
When I caught Maris digging through my trash like a fucking panty-sniffer after she called my work pretending to be a potential employer (which, by the way, was a very uncomfortable situation to get out of, so thank you, Maris, you fucking cunt), asking about me, when she refused the payout I offered her to get the fuck out of my life, well, that was when I didn’t feel guilty framing her for the second, inactive AirTag you found under your car seat.
It was so easy, Lanie. You’d feel like an idiot for falling for it. I wish I didn’t have to fool you like this, but as soon as I changed the “name” of my phone to “Maris’s iPhone”, your blinders went on and I was home free. And, of course, you’d call me to deal with it, even took me right to her house with you when you confronted her. And from there…
Well, she wouldn’t play ball. She had to be dealt with. No more creepy work bestie.
Didn’t regret that one at all, especially not when the payout was setting you up with a new security system - surveillance and all.
You’ve got a stalker, love.
I’ve seen that black techwear hoodie following you home from the shops for weeks now. Last week, long after your lights turned off, he unfolded from under your stairs and rifled through your bins. A few days later, he took photos of your mail.
Yesterday, he sat outside and watched when you leave, when you come home, and where you check for your garden key.
Today, he’s back at your place, and he’s grabbed your garden key, and he’s going into your house.
You’re not home, but I’m there - you know I’ll always be there for you. I won’t let this blonde-haired freak touch your things, love.
You’re lucky you have security like this. You’re lucky I’ve got such a flexible job. Your little stalker got stalked: he’s an orphan, Helaena, some weird kid who researches Valyrian history and who has about a million pseuds on Reddit’s Valyrian subs. It would be excusable if we were back in the Age of Dragons, when there weren’t many of us on Westeros - but now, why the fuck would he think he’d find anything about you? Those subs are all filled with supremacists, besides. Like Uncle Daemon, like Dad.
I’m already in the back door. I won’t let this whelp bastard wait for you to get home.
Gods, it’s so easy to get in your house now, when I’ve got my own key to the garden door, when I’ve got the surveillance on my phone, when I already know which step will creak and which position I should stand in behind that pillar in your entryway that hides me from view from the kitchen and the living room.
He’s looking at that picture of us from that summer in Sunspear, after you had the twins, the vacation Grandpa Otto sent us on to help you forget about them. It’s the only time you truly smiled that whole summer, I think. There’s candyfloss on your left cheek, and you’re trying to wipe it away. Aegon’s in the corner of the photo brooding under his giant black umbrella. I can see that part of the photo from here.
The kid is touching your face in the photo, creep he is. I don’t know who he is or what he wants from you, love, but no kid is going to sniff around your place like this. He’s got to go.
I promise, Helaena, that I didn’t plan to hurt him.
I promise to you.
Except that when I stepped out from behind that stupid pillar, when my boot hit the ground, when he heard me, the kid lunged at me.
The blood just rushed to my head, love. He had a knife, love. And you never got that edge cover for your bar counter like I suggested years ago.
He didn’t even say anything, Helaena. He just rushed at me.
I didn’t mean to kill him. I just missed the mark.
Jaehaerys Waters , his ID says. Jaehaerys, like how you named your kid, Helaena. Sixteen, older now than you were when you had your kid.
Our kid.
His face of shock looks just like yours. I want to close his eyes like in the movies and they keep fucking popping open.
Your eyes - the shock when Mom told you to pack for the maternity home midway through junior year; the betrayal when they forced me to agree with the decision, lest Grandpa beat me within an inch of my life; the grief, when you snuck into my room that first night back and told me, that they were twins, that you called them Jaehaerys and Jaehaera, and that they looked like us and nobody else - are the ones that keep glaring at me from the floor.
Thank the gods I’ve left the emergency button in this app routed to the City Watch. I can’t do more than touching that button, right now.
I’m so sorry, love. I’ve killed our Jaehaerys.
Let’s go to yours, you say, and under different circumstances I might’ve even been elated, might’ve been half-hard on the spot, might’ve kissed you then and there. Instead, I’m a broken, pathetic piece of shit murderer who killed our own child.
I should be fucking happy. I should be here for you. I should tell you everything is okay. How can I do that, Helana, when I ruined our dreams? When I can’t stop anymore, can’t stop hurting those around you in this farce I call protection? How could I keep you safe, when it’s me and the Stranger walking side by side and I’m the biggest threat in your life?
I should be happily taking you into my flat, should be happily comforting you as you sob into my chest. Should be the one in control here. It's routine. We did this when Arryk disappeared, when Maris left. There’s a routine. Our routine.
Why the fuck aren’t you the slightest upset about the death of our son, Lanie? Why am I the wreck here, and not you?
Here we are in my flat, and I can’t even focus on you. Some protector I make, some fucking brother I make, not even pleased to have my face buried in your tits. We’ll have to throw away this top I got you for your first (and only) date with Alyn.
This is not how I pictured having you over for the first time in forever, Lanie. Why the fuck can’t I stop crying? Why the fuck do my tears smell like your wet cunt?
Gods, but the way you kiss my forehead, the way you try to press your leg between mine, the way you pull on my hair…
Gods, Lanie, I can’t stop crying about murdering our fucking kid but I am so bricked up for you right now. I don’t think I can think when your leg rubs against me like that. I don’t think I can breathe when you pull my hair just like that .
This is so fucking wrong, so wrong and I am so gone on you and your gorgeously impulsive mind, the bombshell of a body it’s attached to, I am made for you and I am begging for you to slide your hand just a bit lower…
Looks like you have a little problem , you say, like I can’t feel the torture of your fingers sliding over my begging, straining cock, and well, not so little , you add, like I give a shit when you’re right there, so close, so touchable, so soft and -
Gods, Lanie, I will feel your lips on my skin for the rest of my days. I will die feeling your tongue rummage through my pubic hair, will be reborn with the feeling of your shy, tentative tongue on the tip of my cock, with the feeling of your tiny soft hand wrapping the shaft and giving it a squeeze -
And -
Gods -
Your tongue in my mouth, your soft hands on my face and in my hair and choking me out so hard I wanna puke and your dripping cunt sliding on me -
Gods, I’ll die a happy man if it means letting my deranged sister do this forever; you’re so fucking perfect Helaena, I love you so much, and I’d let you suffocate me in your cunt if you’d only let my arms go and where the fuck did these cuffs come from?
Helaena, are you a freak?
Gods, please say you’re sitting up to ride my cock, Helaena, please -
How long has it been since you rolled your hips like this on me? How long since you forced me to watch, forbidding me to touch? How long since you released my hands right when I’m desperate enough to fuck up into you?
Nearly two decades since we made the twins, Helaena; will we make more now? Will we replace the one we lost?
Do we even still want to find Jaehara, now Jaehaerys is gone? How can she ever trust me now I’ve killed her twin? Perhaps it’s best we don’t. We'll just make another. And if Jaehaera decides to come peeking in our windows, we’ll deal with her then.
Jaehaerys was reckless and clumsy and got himself killed. We’ll have to make sure our next one is more clever.
Gods, it’s like you’re reading my mind with the way your cunt sucks the release from me, like you agree.
I hope this one takes. It's alright if it doesn’t. You're with me now, right where I wanted you. We've got all the time in the world.
