#I feel like I had something to say in the tags but I forgot

[dcandmarvelimagines]

sweeter than you ever knew. (pt 5)

Series: pt 1 pt 2 pt 3 pt 4 pt 5 Pairing: Wade Wilson x Logan Howlett x Fem!Reader Word Count: 6.2k Warnings: AFAB reader (uses she/her pronouns), 1st person POV, non-mutant Reader, this chapter is just smut, unprotected sex (p in v), rough sex, oral sex (f receiving), vaginal fingering, cum eating, nipple play, whiff of breeding kink (I'm very funny), biting, reader has a nightmare that's a little graphic but brief, Wade is very annoying lmao Author's note: I can't believe it's over!!!! It's insane to me how much love and support this had gotten :') I just want to say thank you so much from the bottom of my heart! Please enjoy! <3 ao3 Tags (if I forgot someone I'm so sorry!): @fallout-girl219 @xolosimp @o0aligoth0o @thedevilsaysthings @jaeyuni @redmitsuru5 @jeffs77 @spideybv28 @trumanbluee @jennapearce13 @chxrrybomb22 @7soulstars @what-the-jams @lostinheavensworld @purplestars222 @whiskeyghoul @paintballkid711 @unmotivated-artist164 @amararosesblog @bontensbabygirl @belgium2 @g0ldenstarr @wolvndmouth @sseleniaa @reddesires @harryshousewhore @sun7lowxr @minniekitties @ceobuggy @clancy-the-pretty-odd-killjoy @geckosssssss

The next few days were a haze of food, sleeping, tender touches, and above all else, comfort. Most days I awoke to Wade cuddling close. Logan was too much of an early riser to stay in bed. He would get antsy the longer he lingered, grumbling about how he couldn’t just lay around all day. But I found that sleepy smiles and little nibbles to his jaw could convince him to stay. Even more so if I just happened to push my butt against his hips. 

My leg was healing well, the bruise fading to a dull purple after a few days. The pain was manageable but it always hurt in those first few hours of the day. Wade was more than happy to rub and kiss at my skin every morning. I stopped needing the painkillers during the day but Logan insisted I take one before bed to minimize any discomfort in the morning. It was easy to sleep with the numbing effects pumping through me. My body would feel heavy, my mind quiet and still. I never dreamed. I simply closed my eyes and awoke to the morning sun. 

But I was getting better. So I opted to not take one on their last night with me. It was hard to calm my racing mind and I tossed and turned before Logan snapped a heavy arm around me. “Do you want one?” He sleepily asked. Wade was already out, flat on his back, mouth open. Both of them were able to fall asleep in moments, a skill born from their military service, but Logan was unfortunately a light sleeper. 

“No,” I mumbled, tucking my head under his chin, running my nose along his throat. He had showered before getting into bed so the woody scent of his body wash was strong on his skin. “I need to stop relying on them, need to sleep on my own.” He hummed but stayed quiet. One of his big hands slipped under my shirt, rubbing soothing circles onto my skin. 

I was on the chair again but my limbs were free. I stood, looking around. No one was here. The concrete room was quiet and cold. I walked slowly to the large door, peaking through the small window. 

Nothing. 

Swallowing, I pulled it open. To my right was endless darkness and to the left was an infinite hallway. Something shifted in the darkness as I lingered. I quickly turned to the left. There were no windows or doors as I walked. 

I heard something over my shoulder. When I glanced behind, it looked like I had made no progress, the darkness still close to me. My pace quickened. I heard the sound again. A low gurgle. 

I could see a window at the end of the hallway, sunlight painted across the floor. A hand ran through my hair and I started to run. Whatever was behind me ran too. 

“Sweetheart.” 

The sunlight wasn’t getting any closer. 

But whatever was behind me was. 

I felt their breath along my neck. Cold needles pricked all along my spine. I couldn’t run any harder or any faster. Something caught my foot and sent me sprawling. Before I could scramble away, a hand latched around my leg, dragging me deeper into the darkness. I screamed, nails ripping at the concrete. 

“You’re safe, come on baby, wake up.” 

Then I was forced onto my back to look up at my attacker. It was him. His face was half gone, eyeball hanging from a destroyed socket, brain oozing and pulsating. I tried to fight him off, clawing uselessly at his mangled face. 

He glared down at me, hot blood splattering across my cheeks from his exposed skull. Then he held up the knife before plunging it deep into my chest. I wailed, fighting with everything I had. 

“Come on, you gotta wake up for me.” 

The knife tore from me with a disgusting sucking noise. Then he drove it in, again, and again. 

I sat bolt up straight, chest heaving as I panted. Cold sweat misted my skin and my clothes stuck to it. My eyes were cloudy from unshed tears. With shaking hands, I rubbed at them, and found something warm speckling my face. 

It was blood. 

“You back with us?” The voice was soft but I still jumped. Logan was also sitting up, his body tense. I could see four distinct scratches along his cheek in the weak moonlight. I let out a sob, clambering into his lap, arms latched tight around his shoulders. 

“I-I’m sorry,” I whimpered. He lifted the quilt over me and wrapped it tight. It didn’t stop my shivering. 

“You have nothing to apologize for. Should have known better than trying to touch you while you were having a nightmare.” I kept readjusting my hold, trying to find the position with the most contact. I wanted to crawl inside him, be encased in warmth and comfort. “It’s okay,” he hummed, throat vibrating against my forehead. “I’m not going anywhere.” His hands were under my shirt again, fingers digging into the tense muscles of my lower back. He let me shudder and cling to him for a few minutes, sobbing onto his shoulder, the skin quickly becoming slick with tears. “What do you need, princess?” 

“Just you, please,” I lifted my head from his shoulder, “just you.” Our mouths hovered close and he nearly went cross eyed to keep me in focus. Then he nodded. The kiss was sloppy and desperate but I didn’t care. I just wanted to feel him against me. He let me take charge, one hand braced on the back of my neck. For once, I wished he had worn a shirt just so I could grip it tight. I settled on digging my fingers into his hair. It had gotten long, trailing along the nape of his neck. The longer I kissed him, the more solidly in my body I felt. My head felt clearer as the last of the nightmare ebbed away. 

He was making these soft, tiny groans against my lips that made heat trickle through my veins. I needed more. My hands went to my shirt but Logan stopped me, his lips pulling back, forehead against mine. 

“Sweetheart,” he mumbled, collecting both of my wrists in one of his. “You aren’t thinking clearly.” 

“Says who?” I wiggled, trying to snake out from his grip. I knew it was impossible. But as I shifted, I felt something press against my stomach and Logan let out a faint groan when I pushed myself against it again. “You don’t get to make that decision.” 

“I can smell how scared you are.” 

“I’m not.” I sounded like a petulant child. I was scared. But I craved him and Wade. I wanted to let go, let them chase away all my worries, feel their skin against mine. 

“Relax, take a deep breath,” Logan hummed, ignoring my useless protest. The grip on my wrists had loosened and I took advantage, grabbing his shoulders and pushing him against the headboard. Anger was swirling up in me. 

“Stop telling me what I want. I thought you said you would give me anything I needed. Why is it so hard for you to think I might need you? Might need to feel…” I stumbled over the word I wanted to use, loved. Logan’s face relaxed, the worry leeching away, a soft affection replacing it. 

“Just don’t want you to rush into anything just because you’re scared, that your emotions are in high gear.” I huffed. 

“Then help me calm down,” I pleaded, kissing his scratchy cheek. “I know you and Wade will take good care of me.” He groaned, the sound low in his throat, eyes squeezing shut. “Please,” I whispered as I nipped the corner of his jaw. My nails lightly scraped along his chest as I waited for his response. 

“Okay,” Logan sighed, tilting his head back to allow me to bite and kiss at the newly exposed skin. “We can do that for you sweetheart.” I kept up my assault on his neck, marveling at the bruises disappearing seconds after I had placed them. “Are you done pretending to sleep now?” 

“I was just watching. We need to work on your self-confidence, peanut.” I shouldn’t have been surprised Wade was awake, and even less shocked that he’s been observing us. The bed behind me shifted and Logan spread his legs to accommodate Wade’s body. “If a hot piece like this is begging for sex, you shouldn’t try to convince them that they’re wrong.” Logan growled, his palms hot as they skated over my ass, before dipping into my panties, gripping the flesh. I rolled my hips over his and was rewarded by a small hitch in his breathing. 

“It’s not my confidence, I just need her with us to do this.“ His voice dipped, soft and sweet again,”lean back for me baby.” I do as he asked, back flush with Wade’s chest. Wade’s lips immediately descended on my throat and he cupped my breasts through my shirt. My eyelids grew heavy as he started to circle my nipples, the fabric a pleasant scrape. “Lift her up a bit,” Logan commanded. Wade curled one arm around my waist, easily raising me an inch or two off of Logan’s lap. 

Logan’s fingers dipped under the elastic of my panties, his eyes never moving from my face, examining every expression. He moved between my legs, the pad of his middle finger brushing my clit. I wasn’t wet or turned on enough, yet, for that simple touch to do anything, but I still pushed my hips forward, craving more. Wade nuzzled his face into my neck, sucking at the skin. That made me whine. Logan moved in languid motions over my clit, not too firm, and just enough to reignite the warmth inside me. 

Wade removed his lips from my thoroughly spit covered neck and made a satisfied humming noise at the sight. “So beautiful.” He released my breasts and I opened my mouth to protest but he slipped under my shirt to resume his treatment before I could. 

“Go back to kissing her neck, she likes it, don’t you sweetheart?” I nod, biting my lip as Wade tweaks my nipples. Logan’s middle finger traces around my entrance, collecting my slick, but going back to my clit, the new wetness making his finger glide easier. 

“He gets so bossy in bed,” Wade huffed. “Next time I’m in control.” Logan’s fingers suddenly left me and I gasped in shock. He reached up, his two middle fingers extended, pointed towards Wade. 

“Shut up,” Logan growled, “get these wet for her.” Wade was more than happy to oblige, lapping like a dog at the tips before swallowing them to the knuckles. With his mouth next to my ear, I could hear his exaggerated sucking and slurping. Logan groaned, hips bucking against mine briefly, before he pulled his fingers back. A long trail of spit stretched and snapped between the two. His hand dove under my underwear again, soaked finger prodding at my entrance. 

“Did you, after that night in the bar,” Wade mumbled against my throat, lips tracing my racing pulse. “Logan came from just sucking you off my fingers.” I could feel the man under me tense, like he was going to attack Wade. But he relaxed when he felt how wet I had gotten from hearing that. A finger slipped inside me and I groaned, head falling back on Wade’s shoulder. Wade’s fingers were long, able to poke and prod anywhere inside me with ease. But Logan’s were thick and there was a pleasant stretch around it. “Oh look at that pretty, pretty face,” Wade cooed, abandoning my neck to kiss at my flushed cheeks. “He’s so big isn’t he?” I moaned in response as Logan started to pump into me. “But that stretch feels so fucking good. Makes your toes curl, doesn’t it?” 

“Yes,” I whispered. Logan’s chest rumbled, gripping my hip as he increased his pace. Wade reached for the hem of my shirt, one borrowed from Logan, and went to pull it over my head. 

“No,” Logan rasped, thumb pressing against my clit, forcing a moan from me. “I like her in it.” Wade chuckled. 

“He’s such an animal, isn’t he?” Wade teased, but let the shirt go. “He loves marking his territory. It’s going to drive him crazy to smell his cum in you.” 

“Wade, shut the fuck up.” Logan’s other finger eased inside me, being as gentle as he could be. My eyes rolled back, mouth hanging open. “Look at me, sweetheart. Wanna see your face, wanna see how good I make you feel.” Wade pinched my chin and used it to angle my head down. I couldn’t see Logan’s face well in the dim room but I could see little dark splotches on his cheeks. His nostrils were flared and his chest heaved. 

“God you two look so hot.” I could hear Wade sucking on something before his hands went back to toying with my nipples. My hips jerked, forcing Logan deeper into me, at the feeling of Wade’s wet fingers. He pressed himself closer and I could feel the defined ridge of his cock against my back. 

Logan’s grip on my hip became tighter as he guided me over his hand in long rolls. “There you go princess,” he mumbled. “Make yourself feel good for me. Take what you need.” Fuck. Those words made desire rush through me. I leaned forward, hands braced on Logan’s wide chest, and started to grind against his fingers. I could feel his heart racing under my palms. He curled his fingers just right that made pleasure shoot down my spine. Wade’s hands slipped from me in this new angle. 

“Feel so good,” I sighed, nails pricking into his skin. Logan showed no reaction of pain, his whole focus on me. He pressed against my clit, the pressure just firm enough that my toes curled. “Logan,” I mumbled and reached for his free hand. He gave it willingly and I immediately shoved it up my shirt so he could take over where Wade had stopped. He played with my nipple like he did my clit, long, firm strokes across the sensitive nerves. “Oh god,” I gasped, pleasure pooling deep in my stomach. My hips became more desperate as I chased after the orgasm just out of reach. 

“Aw, Lo,” Wade cooed, faux sympathy dripping from his words. “You’re so hard, do you want some help?” Logan’s hips jerked under me, his fingers spearing deeper, hand briefly clenching around my breasts. I let out a strangled moan at the stretch and rocked my hips quicker. 

“Leave it alone,” Logan hissed, eyes finally darting from my face to glare at Wade over my shoulder. “Don’t need anything but her. I’m taking good care of you, aren’t I baby?” I nodded furiously. I could feel that tension growing in my stomach, that heady rush of heat just within arms reach. “You’re close.” It wasn’t a question and I was too focused on my oncoming orgasm to answer. “You’re so wet for me sweetheart, probably taste like heaven.” 

”Oh she does,” Wade agrees, kissing the nape of my neck. Everything, their words, the rough scrape of Logan’s hands on my most tender areas, the knowledge that Wade is watching, kicked me over the edge. My body went rigid for a moment, a moan caught in my chest, before I ground against Logan with renewed desperation. 

“Fuck, Logan,” I panted. My nails were dug deep into his skin, the warmth of his blood soaking into my fingertips. 

“There you go princess, I got you.” His fingers were pumping into me, fucking me hard through my orgasm. It was exactly what I needed. 

“Logan!” My blurry eyes opened to see him gazing up at me. I was too far into the waves of my orgasms to find his expression, but I smiled down at him all the same. He made a little noise, halfway between a grunt and a moan. 

Soon the pleasure faded and my hips slowed. My breath was uneven. For a moment, that was the only sound in the room. Then Logan’s hand snaked up from my breast to cup the side of my neck. The neckline of the shirt stretched to accommodate his thick forearm. “Alright?” I hummed, little aftershocks rippling through me, my hips jerking over him. Once I stilled fully, his fingers left from me. I whimpered at the loss. He slipped his sticky fingers into his mouth, eyes rolling closed at the taste. 

“Come on baby muffin,” Wade breathed against my neck, licking a drip of sweat off the skin. “Let’s put on a show for him, yeah?” 

“Okay,” I sighed, “just one second.” I leaned closer to Logan, tongue flashing out to lick at the fingers still in his mouth. “Gimme a kiss,” I weakly demanded. He obeyed, removing the digits and dragging my face closer by my chin. His tongue delved into my mouth, the tang of me thick on it. I drew back with a faint smile before I nipped his bottom lip. 

“Let’s go, I’m not known for my patience,” Wade playfully growled, giving my ass a light spank. I giggled, rolling off Logan’s torso, the bed squeaking a little under me. Wade’s hands slid between my legs and spread my thighs apart. He hooked his fingers through my panties and inched them down my legs. I blushed as I felt the fabric cling to my wet pussy before it slipped away. “There you go, you nasty old man.” Wade tossed the bundle of wet fabric at Logan’s face again. The older man made an annoyed sound, throwing the sticky panties near my laundry hamper. 

“I don’t need it.” 

“You didn’t say that with the last pair,” Wade teased, my borrowed shirt climbing up my stomach. “You know,” he said, voice low like he was letting me in on a huge secret, “that last pair I grabbed was ruined. You wanna know how?” 

“Wade,” there was a hint of embarrassment in Logan’s voice. But I nodded eagerly, lifting my arms to let Wade slip the shirt off me, biting back a small giggle when he tickled across my ribs. 

“He made me come in them and then let me fuck him while they were shoved in his mouth.” Heat burned down my neck. “I can’t even see you, but I know you’re all turned on and pink.” Wade backed off the bed, shimming his pants down his narrow hips. I propped myself up on my elbows and squinted in the darkness, trying to take his naked body in. The shadows played across the ridges of his stomach, the V of his waist, and unfortunately lingered between his legs, completely obscuring what I actually wanted to see. “You look cute when you pout like that.” Wade clambered back over me, settling between my thighs, hands braced on either side of my head. His cock was heavy and warm as it rested on my stomach. “You know how long I’ve been waiting for this?” 

“I can take a guess,” I mumbled, arching my neck to brush my lips against his. A bead of warm liquid dribbled onto my stomach. “Why don’t you fix that?” He kissed me back, light pecks and lashes of his tongue on my lips. 

“As you command, my love.” My heart stuttered at the casual way he said the word. Wade leaned back on his knees, his fist pumping over his length. Just as he was lining himself up, my stomach tight in anticipation, Logan’s hand wrapped around Wade’s cock, stilling him. “You can wait your turn, peanut.” 

“Shut up you idiot.” Logan’s forearm flexed and Wade’s hips jerked with a strangled noise of pain. “Sweetheart, do you have condoms?” 

“No, but you guys can’t give me anything can you?” Logan shifted closer, his face becoming clearer in the dim light, there was a pinch of concern on it. 

“No, but we can get you pregnant all the same.” Logan’s nose twitched, clearly smelling that I got even wetter at the idea. “Fuck,” his voice was gruff, forehead falling to my bare shoulder. 

“Stop smelling me,” I hissed. “Anyways, I’m on birth control. Now let Wade fuck me.” Logan sighed and let Wade go. He took his cock in his hand, sliding it through my folds, rubbing my slick into his skin. 

“Ooh,” Wade teased, tapping my clit with each roll of his hips. “Remind me to get on your bad side. I like how you sound angry. Much better than big boy over there.” Wade notched himself at my entrance, pausing for a beat, then pushed into me. I moaned, back arching. He was so warm and twitching already. “Shit baby,” he mumbled, his focus solely on where he disappeared into me. He took his time, giving me an inch, before withdrawing, then working another in. 

It was absolutely maddening. 

“Wade,” I whined, the slow drag of his cock through my sensitive walls making my head spin. It seemed like he was never ending. I wanted him deeper and I tried to force it, but his grip was iron tight on my hips, completely freezing me. 

“Let me savor this, yeah? I only get this for the first time once.” His hips pressed flush to mine, all of him buried deep. He lifted my waist, the change in angle made my stomach clench, as he worked even deeper. 

“Fuck,” the word trembled as my eyes rolled back. The bed next to me creaked, then Logan’s lips were on my neck. He only left a few bites before he was trailing down my chest, tongue tracing along the hollow of my throat, the line of my collar bones. His beard scraped against my flushed skin as he moved. 

“I see what you mean,” Wade sighs, “she flutters so much when you kiss her neck.” He pulled out, just the tip lingering, before he surged forward. It wasn’t rough, but it made my breathing hiccup, ankles locking around him, heels digging into his ass. Logan’s tongue traced down my breast before circling a firm nipple. My hands locked into his hair, keeping him close. Wade continued his slow, torturous, push and pull. He was long enough that at this angle, he was able to rub against my sweet spot on each stroke. 

“Faster,” I pleaded, tightening my legs around him. This pace was only making me feel feverish, more desperate. I needed an edge, that bite of roughness, especially now. The nightmare was long forgotten but I could feel the lingering emotions in the back of my mind.

“Being so gentle,” Logan hummed against me, the hot air dancing over my wet nipple. I bit my lip at the feeling. “I would have thought you’d be fucking her like a rabbit.” When Wade didn’t respond, Logan titled his head to face him. “You really going to come already?”  

“You’re going to be the exact same way,” Wade huffed, shoving Logan’s face against my breast a little too aggressively. “You’re probably going to cry when you have her wrapped around your ancient dick.” Logan growled, sitting up straight, uncaring that I ripped several of his hairs out. He gripped Wade’s face, silver claws breaking his skin and glinting in the dim light. 

“Fuck her like she wants, or I’m going to.” Wade smirked. His face tilted, the edges catching on Logan’s claws, blood trickling down his bumpy skin. Shock mingled with the pleasure simmering in me. Wade had stalled in his movements so I was forced to wiggle my hips the best I could, giving myself a little friction. 

“Look at her Lo,” Wade nodded down at me, like there was anyone else her could be. “She likes it when you're rough with me. I knew you were lying about not wanting knives to be involved.” Wade seemed to enjoy watching me struggle. I reached up, Logan’s claws glancing across the back of skin, and bent Wade’s body in half, capturing his lips in a desperate kiss, arms latching tight around his neck. I bit at his lip hard enough to break the skin, hot liquid dripping into my mouth. Wade grunted in shock, his hips jerking roughly into me.

“You said you fucked harder with them involved,” I murmured between kisses. “Prove it.” Wade’s arms curled around my waist, clutching me close, plunging deep on a harsh thrust. I groaned, eyes fluttering, the angle making my thighs tremble. 

“Knew you had a mean streak in you.” His hips snapped into me finally giving me that needed roughness. I continued my sloppy kissing, nipping and sucking on his rapidly healing lips. His blunt nails dug into the soft skin of my hips as he gripped tighter. Another pair of calloused hands traced up my thigh, feather light as they moved up my skin. Wade trailed his lips along my cheek and jaw. Fingers pinched my chin and dragged my face to Logan’s. He littered my face with light pecks as Wade went to my neck. 

“Is he finally making you feel good? Took him long enough, huh?” 

“Do you,” my voice broke as Logan slipped his hand between Wade and I’s bodies, rolling his fingers over my clit. “Do you have to antagonize each other all the time?” 

“Yes,” they said in unison. Logan’s mouth went to my neck again, his teeth sinking into the curve of my neck, nearly hard enough to break skin. My hand went back to his slightly sweat-dampened hair while the other laid across Wade’s flexing shoulders. With both of their mouth’s occupied, the only thing filling the room was the wet sound of Wade pounding into me and my ragged gasps.That familiar swirl of heat was growing in me. My head felt light, overwhelmed by all the sensations. 

Wade’s forehead pressed between my breasts, his own uneven breath coasting across my sweaty skin. “Fuck,” he mumbled. His pace was losing its consistency but none of its harshness. Logan’s fingers on my clit picked up in speed, the scrape of his callouses extra intense on my tender skin. I whined, my body shuddering as pleasure shot through me. Logan’s mouth slanted against mine and swallowed down all my noises. It wasn’t quite a kiss, I was quickly growing out of breath to linger too long, but Logan didn’t mind. 

Wade was adjusting my position in tiny ways, a slight tilt to the right, a little lift, a small drop. I figured it was just a coincidence until he hit that perfect spot inside me that would have made my eyes cross if they weren’t already closed. I let out a strangled wail of Wade’s name, nails ripping into his shoulder. “There we go,” he panted. 

It only took four more strokes. 

“Wade, I- I’m gonna,” I barely got the words out before the hot coil inside me snapped. Just like Logan’s fingers before, Wade fucked me through my orgasm, groaning at the tight squeeze. Logan slowed over my clit, knowing that overstimulation was creeping up. 

“In or out?” Wade’s voice was clipped, hips finally losing all sense of rhythm, just becoming uneven jerks. It was hard for him to even move with the vice grip my legs had around him. 

“In, ah Wade, in please!” He made a choked noise, somewhere between a moan and whine, as he pushed in as far as he could with a shudder. Warmth spread through me as he came with a long groan. “Fuck,” I mumbled, my hips still trembling from the aftershocks. 

Our bodies slowed, all the shakiness easing out of us. Wade kept me close even when my legs fell from his hips. He laid his cheek against my sternum, body growing heavier over me as he relaxed. I gave his head a weak kiss just as another pair of lips found my cheek. “You okay baby?” I smiled at Logan, feeling just a little giddy. 

“Yeah.” Logan smirked back and I blinked sleepily at him. Wade was softening inside me and drips of cum traced down my skin to the bed. I winced at the stickiness. 

“I’ll get you a towel,” Logan said, already moving to get off the bed, legs on the floor. My arm stretched to grab his fingers. 

“It’s your turn.” I couldn’t see his face too well, but I saw his head tilt in question. I chuckled. “Wade, get off me now.” He groaned, sucking a hickey right on my chest before rolling next to me. I moved to my hands and knees, crawling across the mattress to be face to face with Logan. I heard his breath stutter. “Cleaning up can wait can’t it?” My hand slid between his legs, gripping his cock through his boxers. “How do you want me?” I felt him throb in my grip. 

“Jesus,” he huffed. I littered his neck in licking kisses while I awaited his response. “Go sit on Wade’s face.” Now it was my turn to look at him confused. He smirked, a flash of a pointed tooth catching in the street light outside. “Don’t you trust me princess?” Reluctantly, I released him, turning on my knees to inch across to Wade. I made sure to shimmy my ass for Logan as I moved. 

“Oh dessert.” I had barely swung my leg over Wade’s face before he pulled me down by my hips. His tongue parted my folds, flicking aggressively at my tender clit before sliding back and licking his cum from me. I shuddered, hands gripping his head. The bed shifted and I felt Logan’s palm slide up my spine before cupping my neck gently and guiding my torso to be flat to the bed. I braced myself on my elbows, adjusting my hips, the new angle only allowing Wade to continue his torture on my clit. Calloused hands spread me farther open. Logan lapped away all the cum that had leaked down my thighs. I whimpered, fingers knotting the bed sheets. But the sound grew in volume and pitch as Logan joined Wade, tongues tangling briefly, before he speared into my leaking pussy. Wade laughed as I shook above him. His hot breath fanned across my wet skin and I had to bite my lip to stop from wailing. 

“How do we taste?” I had no idea who Wade was even speaking as he was practically smothered under me. Logan groaned, nuzzling his face deeper into me, his grip tight enough to leave bruises on my ass. His tongue curled, licking every inch of my clenching channel. The scratch of his beard was like little pinpricks of pain but it only made me push my hips against him harder. The sounds I was making were downright pathetic. Just when I didn’t think I could take anymore, he reared back, breath uneven. I glanced over my shoulder to find his eyes glued to where Wade was pinned. When he looked almost content to just watch, I shimmed my hips, grinding harder on Wade’s face. The man under me eagerly sucked my clit into his mouth and I sobbed at the feeling. 

“Shit,” he huffed, “you two are gonna kill me.” There was more adjusting and then I felt the blunt head of Logan’s cock at my entrance. Wade released my clit, opting to just rub his nose against it. It was enough friction to keep me satisfied, but not enough to make me come too quickly. “Beg for it.” 

“Aw you’re being so mean!” 

But I was all too eager. “Please fuck me Logan, please! Been thinking about it so long! I promise I’ll make you feel so goo-ah!” With one long stroke, Logan was buried to the hilt. Despite how wet I was and the extra slick of Wade’s cum, there was still the barest hint of pressure as he stretched me. “Oh god,” I whimpered. Logan’s rough hands grasped my hips, giving an experimental roll. “Logan.” He shushed me, drawing his cock nearly out before plunging back into me. The force punched a moan out of me. “Like that,” I pleaded. 

“I’ll take care of you, sweetheart,” he hummed. His pace was languid, but rough. He used my waist as leverage to drag me closer for each thrust. With each pull, I was forced to grind myself against Wade’s face, who stuck his tongue out so I couldn’t escape the pleasure. I was so wound up, so close to the edge after two orgasams, that I could only take a handful of his harsh strokes before I was coming again. I buried my face in the sheets, shuddering whines falling from my lips. “Shit,” Logan groaned. Wade made a muffled noise as my juices dripped into his mouth. His own hands joined Logan’s, clutching me close. I could feel Logan’s thighs trembling where they were pressed against mine. 

I hadn’t fully finished my orgasm before Logan was moving in me again. He was far less restrained now, fucking into me with quicker thrusts. My toes curled. “Logan,” I sobbed. Despite the overstimulation growing in me, I arched my back, forcing Logan deeper.

“Feel so good, I can’t handle it,” Logan grunted. He bent over me, messily kissing at my spine and shoulder blades. “Too much?” His voice was quiet as it tickled along my neck. 

“No!” I cried, bouncing against him as best I could with both of them holding me. Wade chuckled and the vibrations made me nearly rip the sheets in my grip. “More!” Logan huffed a laugh, kissing the back of my neck, before his hand replaced it, pinning me to the bed. The pressure was enough that I knew not to move, but light enough that I could slip out from it if I needed to. 

Logan fucked into me like a man possessed, hips rutting into me with reckless abandoned. I had no doubt there would be faint bruises on my ass from him. But that pinch of pain only drove me higher. I felt drunk on all the sensations. Logan rubbing against my tender walls. Wade’s tongue as it rolled between my folds, tracing my entrance. The ache in my hips from being spread so long. My moans of their names grew more slurred before it just became whimpers. Tears stung my eyes and I let them fall freely. 

“Goddamnit,” Logan growled, his hand briefly flexing around the back of my neck. He was panting, if only a little, and I took it as a compliment. His hips moved quicker, the slap of his skin against mine echoing around the room. Wade’s tongue stopped wandering and honed back onto my clit, making tight circles around it. 

“Wade!” I cried out, body jolting. Logan’s hand suddenly went to my shoulder, jerking me up straight, my back flush to his chest. He banded an arm across my chest to pin me close while he drove into me. His lips found his previous bite mark and sunk his teeth into it. The feeling of my skin breaking was a dull burn, soothed by Wade between my legs. Heat burst through me, an orgasm that nearly knocked the wind from me. My hand went to Logan’s hair, fingers twisted deep into the strands, and held him close, weak sobs of euphoria escaping me. His other arm curled around my hips before he shoved himself as deep as he could with a little snarl into the skin clutched between his teeth. I could feel every twitch as he came, filling me to the brim. I shook in his embrace. If not for his iron grip, I would have fallen flat on my face on the bed. 

The first thing to move was Logan’s teeth from my neck. “Fuck.” His worry was clear as he licked the dripping blood away. “I, I-shit, I didn’t mean to, I just got so caught up in you.” My weak hand slid from his hair, caressing his jaw. 

“S’okay,” I slurred. Exhaustion was quickly catching up to me. ”Felt good.” 

“You really can’t help but bite any piece of meat you see huh?” Wade’s tongue swept between my folds again, lapping up Logan’s cum as it leaked from me. Logan growled. I felt Wade’s fingers brush against me, curling around Logan’s softening cock before tugging it out. I whined as he obnoxiously slurped the mixture of cum from me. 

“Stop it,” Logan growled. “Make yourself useful and grab a towel.” With lots of adjusting, Wade was able to wiggle out from under us. But he didn’t go to the bathroom, instead he cupped the back of Logan’s head, meeting him in a kiss. Logan groaned. 

“Taste good right?” Wade leaned back, grinning, before licking Logan’s face from chin to nose. 

“How about you go grab a towel before I put my claws through your chest, yeah?” If anything, Wade’s smile grew wider, more wild. 

“Okay, okay. How about I get a towel to clean our precious girl up and then we can have some fun while she recovers?” Logan sighs. 

“Fine,” he grumbled. Wade shimmied in excitement, giving me a wet peck on the cheek, before disappearing out of the bedroom. My heavy head fell back on Logan’s shoulder. “Do you feel better now?” I gave a weak laugh and nuzzled my face against his cheek. 

“I can get used to this.” Logan hummed. 

“Me too sweetheart, me too.”

[fandomxo00]

Ok but imagine: Part 3

You hate Logan but have a daughter together and he finds your sex toy

You should've known something was up when he had that cocky look on his face. The fact that his dimples were pressed in as he couldn't press the smirk on his face. "What logan." You groaned as he stepped further into the room a hand still behind his back.

"Forgot something in the bathroom."

"Logan-" You started, your eyes widening as you stood up and darted towards him as he backed up.

"They just didn't know who it belonged to but then I saw it." Logan continued, as his nostrils flared with the grin as he licked his lip. "Recognized the pink dildo you got because it looked so much like my-"

"Logan!" You gritted, stepping towards him and put a hand over his mouth. "Just shut up and give it back, this is humaliting enough."

"No no i dont think it is." He laughed, moving away from your hand and shutting your door with a soft click. "You still use it huh? Outta all your other toys?"

You neglected to make eye contact with him, crossing your arms over your chest. "C'mon nothing to say now?" He joked, as he hunched his shoulders forward as his hands remained behind his back. "Cause if you still love me and your using my dildo. Well I can give you the real thing any time you want."

"Logan I cant-"

"You say that, every time but I don't think you mean it. I think you want me to convince you that you can ask for me whenever you want. You know I'm yours and I never stopped being yours, Y/n." Logan said, his arms relaxing as he held the toy in his hands. Before moving forward to drop it in your hand, it was luckily wrapped in a towel so you didn't have to come face to face with just yet. He stepped in closer, as you looked into his eyes. "Whenever your ready I am here, and I'm always gonna be here."

"How do I know that? How do I know you won't get scared?"

"You won't, I don't know if Ill get scared again and hurt you." His hand came to his abdomen as he spoke. "But I know I don't want to, that Ill do everything I can to come back and try and be strong for you and our daughter. I can't promise that I won't fuck up again but Ill promise that I will always love you and Ill always be right here."

"Logan-"

"Just think about it." Logan murmured, his hand coming to your hair and pushing it away from your face. You leant in to his touch, his green hazel eyes hypnotizing you before you glanced over at his plump lips. Your hand shakily came up to his face, his eyes closing at the touch.

"Gotta kiss me first." You pressed.

"Yeah why's that?"

"Gonna have to think over something right?" You joked as he grunted his hand coming to the back of your neck to pull your mouth into his. You moaned into the kiss, the feeling so foreign to you but so comforting. Before you can deepen the kiss Logan moves back slightly breathless. Your hand moved to his chest, patting his pec as he watched your every movement. "Now bye Lo."

"Bye sweetheart."

tags: @ohtobemare@jessjessmarvelandhp

@chronicallybubbly @delicateholland @bubblegumholland@mega-kittyglitter-1

[nondelphic]

thank you so much for 700 followers!! this is so insane to me and i'm so happy people are enjoying my posts.

i know most of you are here for my ""relatable writing posts"" but i also know some of you are interested in who i am, and specifically my writing, so to celebrate hitting 700 followers i thought i'd give you a taste of my writing !! i know i was supposed to tag some ppl but i forgot to write your names down and i can't remember who wanted to be tagged and who didn't 😭😭😭

these are all drafts and i def don't consider myself a great writer, but i think i'm okay at storytelling. regardless, enjoy it for what it is!

this excerpt is from my first completed draft of "the midnight chase." for context, marley is aroace.

-

They sat in silence for a while before Marley shifted towards Lucas. She bit her lip, uncertain of how honest to be. “Lucas?”

He looked at her. “Yeah?”

“You know the party last month? Remember how Elvis kissed me?”

Lucas nodded. Marley averted her gaze, focusing on a path beyond the pond that led to a cliff overlooking the ocean.

“Do you think it’s possible to want that sort of closeness, without wanting it all?” Marley could feel Lucas gaze on her.

“I’m not sure I understand what you mean.”

Marley sighed and let her gaze drop to her feet. Her shoelaces had come undone.

“I mean, I don’t like Elvis like that, but when he kissed me, I felt… warm inside. Like, it’s not something I crave, but it felt nice regardless.”

Lucas remained silent for a moment. Marley looked up to see his gaze thoughtful as he processed her words. The gentle rustling of leaves and the occasional chirp of a bird were the only sounds filling the silence between them. Marley could feel her heartbeat quicken, wondering if she had said too much, or if Lucas might misunderstand her.

Finally, Lucas sighed softly, a small smile tugging at the corners of his lips. “I get what you’re saying, Marley. I think… it’s natural to want closeness, to feel connected to someone, even if it’s not necessarily about romance. It’s human, you know? We all crave that warmth, that feeling of being wanted or cared for, even if it’s just for a moment.”

Marley nodded, relieved that he understood, but still, there was something else she needed to express. She glanced between Lucas and her shoelaces, her senses searching for any sign of judgement or discomfort, but all she saw was patience and a gentle curiosity.

“I guess it just made me question something that’s been nagging me for a long time,” Marley continued, her voice softer now, almost hesitant. “Like, what if I don’t ever want that kind of connection with someone, but I still want to feel close to people? Is that okay?”

Lucas’s expression softened even more, and he reached out, gently placing a hand on Marley’s shoulder. “Marley, there’s no right or wrong way to feel about these things. You’re allowed to want whatever it is you want—or don’t want. It doesn’t make you any less valid or any less… you.”

Marley let out a breath she didn’t realize she was holding, the tension in her shoulders easing slightly. “Thanks, Lucas. I guess I just needed to hear that.”

and here's another excerpt that shows a bit more of the story...... kinda.

-

As Lucas excused himself to go to the bathroom, Marley looked for Chio. Instead, she ran into Silas.

“Hey,” he said, holding his arm out. “Let’s dance.”

Initially, Marley wanted to say no, but something in Silas’ expression made her do the opposite. She took his arm and he led her to a more secluded part of the dance floor. Marley noticed people staring at them as they walked, not unsurprisingly, considering her and Silas' history.

Silas put a cautious hand on Marley’s back as the song transitioned to a sentimental and slow piano arrangement. 

“You know the map I gave you?” Silas asked. Marley smiled. Yes, the one she and her friends had managed to figure out completely. “Did you solve it?” 

Something in Silas’ expression told Marley he already knew the answer. Did he want help? Had he solved it?

“Yes,” Marley said. Silas nodded, and a smile crept up on his face.

“Me too. Which means… the winner will be determined by who gets to the middle first.”

Marley nodded. “You’re doing it alone?” 

“Yes. I work best alone. I know you’re doing it with your friends.” Something in Marley churned at his answer. It was a typical Silas answer, a simple phrase etched with an edge of passive aggressiveness. Marley had solved it with the help of her friends. He had solved it alone, using only his brains.

“Teamwork is an underappreciated tool,” Marley said, finding herself distancing herself slightly from Silas’ hold on her as they danced.

“Of course. It’s important to be able to work with others. At the end of the day, though, you'll be alone.”

Marley looked into Silas’s eyes, trying to decipher his expression. There was something behind his words, a hint of loneliness perhaps, or maybe a sense of inevitability. She decided to keep the conversation light, not wanting to spoil the mood of the evening.

“Maybe so, but having friends by your side can make a huge difference,” Marley replied, her tone gentle but firm.

Silas nodded, his gaze thoughtful. “I suppose you’re right. It’s just... sometimes it feels like relying on others is a weakness.”

Marley shook her head. “It’s not a weakness, Silas. It’s a strength. Knowing when to ask for help, and knowing you can trust those around you, that’s powerful.”

They continued to dance in silence for a few moments, the slow melody wrapping around them. Marley felt a strange mix of empathy and rivalry towards Silas. She understood his drive and his determination, but she also saw the value in the support system she had with her friends.

As the song came to an end, Silas offered her a small smile. “Thank you for the dance, Marley. And for the perspective.”

Marley returned the smile. “Anytime, Silas. Good luck with the challenge.”

“Good luck to you too,” Silas replied, giving her a polite nod before walking away.

Marley watched him go, feeling a mixture of emotions. She was grateful for her friends and the support they provided, but she also understood the weight Silas carried. She hoped that one day he would realize the value of camaraderie.

Lucas returned from the bathroom, a curious look on his face. “Did I miss something?”

Marley laughed, shaking off the remnants of her conversation with Silas. “Just a dance with Silas. Nothing major.”

Lucas raised an eyebrow but didn’t press further. “Shall we continue dancing?”

“Absolutely,” Marley said, feeling lighter and more determined than ever.

They returned to the dance floor, joining their friends in the celebration. The rest of the evening passed in a blur of laughter, dancing, and shared moments that Marley knew she would treasure for a long time.

As the night wound down, Marley found herself sitting with Chio and Maya on a bench outside the hall, the cool air in the stone-cladden corridor a refreshing contrast to the warmth of the dance floor.

Maya pulled out her phone from under her dress. Marley watched her. “Where did you keep that?”

“Oh, I have all my dressed sewn to include hidden pockets. I hate not being able to carry stuff.”

Chio rolled her eyes dramatically. “Ah, yes, custom sewn gowns with pockets, what a normal and humble thing!”

“It’s not my fault that default dresses don’t come with pockets already,” Maya countered.

“Calling normal dresses ‘default dresses’ is crazy,” Marley snorted. She looked at Chio’s dress. It was a beautifully simple dress with long, wide arms and a simple fabric belt around the waist, in a bright orange colour, contrasting Chio’s blue hair in a seamlessly effortless way.

“To be fair, my dress is also customised,” Chio sighed, smoothing out her skirt, before smirking. “I took it in two centimetres at the waist.”

The three girls burst out into laughter. Maya looked at her phone.

“What time is it?” Chio asked.

“10:45.”

“We should get ready.” Marley said. The Midnight Chase started at midnight, just as the name suggested. And she was not running down the maze in a long dress. Well, she could, she knew multiple people participating who were going directly from the dance to the maze. But they weren’t in it to win it. Marley and her friends were.

Hopefully, Silas would find that working alone is actually the greatest weakness.

Marley had a gnawing feeling that her stance would be proven right.

HELP i'm so scared y'all are gonna think my writing is trash because LET'S BE FR THIS IS JUST FROM MY FIRST DRAFT!!!! i haven't yet edited these scenes so they're kinda cringe but i wanted to show my main project. i do have different writing styles depending on genre though, and i'm tempted to show some of my comedy writing. it's pretty hilarious, if i may say so myself.

anyway, thank you again for 700 followers. thank you so much. each like, reblog, reply, message, or ask brings me so much happiness. you have no clue how much your interest warms my heart (or maybe you do because you know how social media manipulates our brains and their reward system)

[quibbs126]

For the fan kid thingy, can I get a velvetgatto? (Affogato x red velvet)

Finally…after an eternity (about 6 months, which Jesus that’s a long time), he is finished. Zuccotto Cookie

So his name. Zuccotto is basically like an ice cream cake, so a combination of Red Velvet’s cake and Affogato’s ice cream. Also, it’s Italian, like affogato. I vaguely recall the name giving me trouble at first, until I realized cake and ice cream was a valid combination and got this

Zuccotto:

So I had his design sketched out like a month ago, and I think I recall telling you all that I couldn’t figure out how to make his design work. I had left the design I made and just went and did something else, and then today I was looking for something to draw and I said “yeah the design looks fine, don’t know why I didn’t like it” and just drew that

But also this means that I don’t remember all the reasons for his design details, most notably the staff

I mean, I know I based it off the staffs some of the Cake Monsters have, specifically the Pomegranate shamans or whatever they were called. I also know originally I was trying to make it a spork, but I couldn’t get it to look good, so I switched to the other staff. But I admit, it looks a bit out of place. I mean, I changed some of the colors at the end to match it, but I think it still looks off. But I’m not going through the effort of making a new one, I remember that staff being a pain

Anyways, so I think I was trying to give Zuccotto a style more befitting a shaman, but also with a more modern twist to emulate Red Velvet. I think I did it well

But one thing that was a real struggle was the colors, because I had no clue what to do for them. In my mind he had a black and red color scheme, and that’s how I had it at first, but I was having difficulty with putting the reds next to each other, and I changed some of the colors at the end to match the staff, and I think it worked out fine in the end

I feel like he looks too similar to Affogato, at least without colors (I felt that when I was drawing the sketch). But maybe I just need to take some time away from him and come back to really know. He probably doesn’t look as similar as I think

Also I’m just realizing that considering he’s not made of a food that contains coffee, he probably shouldn’t have dilated pupils, but like, both Red Velvet and Affogato have some form of them, so shhh

Anyways, so let’s move on to him

So Zuccotto is part of the Cookies of Darkness (assuming they stay for a long time and/or there’s a new group), and he’s some sort of Cake Shaman, summoning Cake Monsters to do his bidding. Though he has a great respect for Cakes and see them as equals. He’s not necessarily a bad guy, but he’s very loyal to the Cookies of Darkness and has no inclination to leave, feeling that normal Cookies have no respect for Cakes

I can imagine him playing cards or chess with the Cake Monsters, or at least the ones with hands

Now one of the other main things I have for him is his relationship with Licorice Cream, a darklico fankid I did some time ago, and whom you can see in the sketch (it’s supposed to be a recreation of that Toy Story meme). Basically my idea is that they’re both part of the CoD and they’re this duo within the group. Zuccotto is the straight man that gets dragged along into Licorice Cream’s antics and tries to stay the voice of reason. I said in my head that they have a dynamic similar to Mule and Sonia from Berserk, but also it’s been a while since I’ve read the chapters with them, and my mind may have branched off from that initial dynamic. But basically it’s “weird girl and normal dude who has no clue what she’s on about”. Actually that’s probably not accurate, I just don’t know how to describe Sonia, so sorry to those who haven’t read Berserk and don’t know what I’m talking about

Zuccotto’s also generally the more mature of the two, despite Licorice Cream being older (Zuccotto’s like a teenager while LC is an adult)

I feel like I should have more, but really those are the only two bits I have on him, I don’t think he’s that complicated. But I might have more to say about him when I redo Licorice Cream, since I have a better idea of what to do with her now, and they are rather close

But yeah, that’s Zuccotto Cookie, hope you like him and that maybe he was worth the wait!

[i-dreamed-i-had-a-son]

Broke (2016): BBC Sherlock is a phenomenal piece of media and anything that seems like a flaw just hasn't been fully explored yet

Woke (2020): BBC Sherlock is an incredibly flawed series run by an egotistical writer, it never deserved the hype and is actively bad on so many fronts (especially representation)

Bespoke (2024): BBC Sherlock is flawed and bogged down by increasingly poor writing, which many fans refused to see while it was airing, leading to hugely misplaced expectations (particularly for the final series), AND it has the seeds of some compelling characterizations and portrayals, some genuinely solid performances, and touches--albeit imperfectly--on complexities that are still being discussed today (particularly as it relates to the relationship between Sherlock and John). The huge cultural impact of the show has created a massive pendulum effect in its public perception, leading to most people today remembering a caricature of the show (whether positive or negative) rather than appreciating its nuanced merits and failings...that being said Season 4 sucked

[puppyeared]

i feel shy talking here when i dont have anything worth sharing but i cant help feeling like ive said things in the tags that could be brought up in court

[killjoy-prince]

My coworker thinks I'll be on his side no matter what but as long as I'm not directly involved I'm always on whatever side is funniest

[rutadales]

I think my least favorite thing that happens in fandom spaces is how overly familiar people act towards you. Like whenever I get a post over 200 notes I have people making jokes in the tags that aren't like outright distressing or gross or anything but that just. idk! are jokes I would only make with people I know. Like "fuck you!" or "oh this is awful" or whatever that's done in a joking tone but it's still weird. You don't know me like that

And it's not so much a problem over here because we are so insular as a community so even if I don't know you guys by name or if we don't follow each other I still recognize the person commenting on my stuff. enough to almost certainly recognize the joking tone instantly and for that familiarity there to be warranted. we're not friends but it's like, yeah! I know this person they've been here forever. It's comfortable.

But in larger spaces that casual familiarity is gone. I've literally never interacted with you before. It's like if you overheard a conversation on the street and just walked in and started joking around with them like you knew them. it's uncomfortable!! and like yes obviously I'm looking for interactions when I post and tag things that's the whole point, so it is inherently different than say a private conversation being intruded on but djakfoofjf just don't act like you know someone you've literally never engaged with at all before.

[lightfulonion]

thank you @skijjiki for tagging me!!!! i love these types of tagging games so much!!

last song: Tokyo Calling by ATARASHII GAKKO! (pls watch the music video. its so good 😭) im kind of, sort of, obsessed with this and i have been listening to it non-stop like my life depends on it. anyway

fav color: hmm im really feeling brown right now (wow! that sounds awful! im not changing my answer tho. brown rules.)

currently reading: im able to read only fanfics at the moment because anything that involves a book and new characters feels like too much work for me for some reason and also like im cheating at my classes in university. both of these suck big butt and i hate being like this but it's true. anyway please read a million times along the way by starsqwub. its a bokuaka fic, it hasnt updated since 2022 and it made me cry every chapter. its about love, its about friends, its about being a weird person in a normal world and, more importantly, its about bokuto and akaashi. oh! also manga like chainsaw man and toilet bound hanako-kun!! and some webcomics as well too.

currently watching: the wall mostly but also dungeon meshi! and ive been trying to be up-to-date with the one piece anime!!

spicy/savory/sweet: sweet <3

relationship status: i was reading a bokuaka fic and i was crying. take a wild guess.

current obsessions: listening to Tokyo Calling and ATARASHII GAKKO! apparently and im starting to feel like reading the ending of Haikyuu!! which is probably a bad thing?? (im scared. i really dont want it to end :'((( )

tagging: @livingonyoghurtandspite, @horson, @clementinethekitten, @pierogish, @alcieside, @mars-matrix, @peachybeesplease, @mangatxt.

[kordbot]

thinkin abt benny tonight

[spaceboysandfieldgirls]

tired of that post that’s like ‘people who were fic writers before they were pro authors all suck’ and using like cassandra claire as an example. sure, some authors who started writing fanfic now make shitty derivative wish fulfillment books with bad adjectives. but that’s such a misunderstanding of what fanfiction is.

fanfic is not an inherently subversive genre, and i personally hate people who’s only queer lit is fanfic. they’re missing like everything important about the queer experience. but fanfic is also not meant to be a societal medicine, a cure-all for queer issues.

fanfic is a space for passionate people to express their love for a piece of art.

just like fan artists don’t make bad artists, fanfic writers don’t make bad writers. it isn’t causative.

however, lots of people in fandom are new to their mediums, or young, or not super high effort. so fandom spaces are flooded with the content of amateurs- people who create out of love.

lots of those people are bad at it. not because liking things enough to write about them makes you bad at art, not because wanting gay people to kiss makes you bad at art. but bc the point of these works is singular: to create for a fandom a thing that is wholly yours, drawn from your love of that fandom.

i go to art school (fake gamer, i know) and all of the most talented artists, especially the illustrators, had fandoms that they drew for when they were young. the fan space allowed them a community to create for, people to encourage those early stages of artistic development.

this is what lots of (i’d bargain most) fanfic is. it’s the beginning of an artistic process. it’s fresh, it’s new, it’s missing constructive feedback and editing and perspective. just like the early works of a million different singers, songwriters, painters, writers, actors, and dancers before them, these artists are laying the groundwork for their future endeavors. and they’re doing it out of love. i think that’s beautiful.

furthermore, lots of fanfic is actually well written. those posts that say ‘x is such a raw line you’d think it’s from shakespeare but it’s actually from a stuckky incest fic’ or whatever. those posts are a perfect example of the actual writing ability of some fic authors. i’ve read fics that do innovative things with form, rhythm, plot structure, etc. i’ve read fics that discuss in more plain-clothes fashion topics that are hard to find in most fiction. sure, maybe i do really like it when a character is confrontational in a way no real person is, but that unrealistic behavior doesn’t mark a bad author— fiction doesn’t have to feel like it’s real, it has to feel congruent with its own internal logic. some fic authors understand this better that some ‘real authors’. many don’t.

finally, there are some authors that i’m pretty sure were fic authors before they got published (no evidence, just conjecture) who make incredible work. nora sakavic, lee mandelo, c.s. pacat. their work is all notably fic-y, from some writing conventions to plot points to obvious references to other works. none of this devalues their books, which each have their own merits. the all for the game trilogy by nora sakavic is an awesome fast paced action series centered around stupid mafia drama and a fictional sport (which would be way more fun to play than fucking quidditch btw) and also deeply explores consent, trauma, and what it means to be someone’s family. summer sons by lee mandelo is a beautiful languid southern gothic with some innovative ideas about ghosts and some really intense haunting scenes. c.s. pacat’s captive prince trilogy is undeniably fic-y with a lot of weird plots and sub plots and sub sub plots, alienating dialogue, and an obsession with sexual trauma. and the captive prince trilogy is also the most comprehensive look i’ve ever gotten at battle strategy. i love how the relationship between afflictors and those afflicting harm was discussed- there’s no right way to understand the atrocities discussed in the text, but the characters are people, so they keep living, and they make bad decisions and they make good ones. i’d recommend all of these books.

all this to say that fanfic has its place. there’s nothing to be achieved by acting like it’s some angelic force, but likewise bashing on it needlessly does no one any good. and to close: i got into economic theory because of my sisters ex-boyfriend who had a copy of das capital. i got into queer theory because a fic writer i like mentioned the faggots and their friends.

[quibbs126]

Okay, I originally started making this over 2 weeks ago, but I got sidetracked and never finished it, but I went back yesterday to draw more of it

Basically I just wanted to draw Dark Choco and his past relationships with other characters

First off I drew him with Caramel Arrow Cookie, with him mentoring her in how to use a bow. I’ve kind of already covered how I see their relationship in an older artwork, but basically I see them having a pseudo older brother/younger sister relationship, while Dark Choco also acted as sort of a mentor to her

Next we have Dark Choco and Royal Berry, whom I also see them having a sibling sort of relationship (basically Dark Choco went out and just collected siblings like Pokémon, intentionally or not). While Dark Choco is older, here they’re both at least teenagers, Royal Berry’s just short. Initially they met simply because their parents were friends (I imagine Hollyberry and Dark Cacao probably kept the most in touch out of the Ancients post-Dark Flour War, but that’s just going off what I can gather so far), with Royal Berry befriending the shy Dark Choco Cookie, and later on they remained close friends, despite Royal Berry not being very enthusiastic about fighting or going on dangerous adventures (though that didn’t stop Dark Choco from occasionally roping him into shenanigans). Dark Choco just liked his friend, and he also provided a different perspective, considering everyone he knows in the Dark Cacao Kingdom is a warrior just like him. Dark Choco also acted as a bit of a wingman for Royal Berry when it came to Jungleberry, a young knight in the Hollyberry Kingdom, helping hype Royal Berry up and give him the confidence to ask her out, to which she agreed. Unfortunately Dark Choco just stopped coming over, after an incident in the Dark Cacao Kingdom that Royal Berry never got the details of as his mother never really told him, so he’s not sure what happened to his old friend. As for Dark Choco he wonders how Royal Berry is doing now (he’s unaware that he and Jungleberry got married and they had kids, he was only there for the first and maybe second date)

Then last night I drew Dark Choco and Second Watcher, which I finished earlier today. For the sake of simplicity I’m gonna call Second Watcher here Toffee Cookie, though I’m not sure if that’s my final name for him? (Also side note I just learned today that toffee is essentially caramel (well not really but it’s similar). For some reason I always thought it tasted more like coffee or honey, and thus a flavor I didn’t like. But I do like caramel, so I might actually try it sometime)

So initially I didn’t think much of Second Watcher, other than the fact that I’ve seen his name pop up quite a bit on here, which was a bit odd for a minor NPC. But upon looking again at that loading screen with Dark Cacao Cookie and a freshly baked Dark Choco Cookie, I noticed that the random Cookie holding Dark Choco Cookie was first off a man given the stubble, but also looked uncannily similar to Second Watcher Cookie, to the point where they might be the same person, and the Wiki at least seems to think so too (I’m aware the Wiki isn’t official or anything, but it is an interesting thing to point out). And that intrigued me, because he doesn’t look like a soldier or anything, he looks more like a nursemaid. Now how on earth did he go from a nursemaid to the second in command of the Watchers, the guard of the kingdom? There’s clearly a story there, so I came up with one of my own

So Toffee Cookie here was initially indeed a nursemaid for the prince (which good for him for breaking gender roles), and was basically his primary caretaker in stead of Dark Cacao Cookie (I don’t think Dark Cacao was a neglectful or absent father, it’s just that he’s a king with important duties and he can’t spend all his time looking after his son, and in seeming lack of another parent, he needs someone else to take care of Dark Choco). Dark Choco Cookie saw Toffee Cookie as sort of a secondary parental figure, sort of like Lancer and Rouxls Kaard from Deltarune? Only Toffee sees Dark Choco like a son as well, even if he knows he isn’t

Anyways, so one particular night, when Dark Cacao Cookie was absent from the Citadel as he was dealing with matters in distant reaches of the kingdom, there was an assassination attempt on the prince. They created a ruckus with the Wall, causing the guards to focus their attention on whatever was attacking them outside, diverting and distracting them so that they could get to their target. Toffee Cookie went to Dark Choco’s room to make sure he was unharmed or he wasn’t scared by all this (keep in mind Dark Choco’s not very old here, he’s like 4-5 in Cookie terms), only to find assassins trying to attack him. Thankfully, Toffee had combat training, as is required of any Dark Cacaoian, and on instinct he pulled out a concealed dagger and attacked the assassin closest to Dark Choco, picking him up and fleeing the room. The assassins eventually cornered them and so Toffee stood his ground and fended off their attackers with his dagger until help might arrive. This is how Toffee Cookie lost his eye, as is evident in the picture. Eventually the soldiers realized the deception and after taking care of the threat to their Wall, went on a desperate search to find the prince, hoping they weren’t too late. They eventually found Toffee Cookie, stained with his own jam and the jam of the assassins, surrounded by dead or unconscious assassins, fighting off the ones still remaining. They were able to get rid of the final assassins, and the attack was finally over. They found the prince unscathed, though clearly terrified from everything, and he was clinging on to Toffee Cookie for dear life, refusing to leave his side, even after Toffee Cookie collapsed from exhaustion and his wounds, staying by his side as the healers worked on him and into the next morning. Dark Cacao quickly came back after hearing of the incident and was relieved to find his son unharmed. Toffee Cookie was praised for his tenacity and even offered a spot on the Watchers, but he declined due to his current loyalty being to the safety of the prince, even if he wanted to join them. This made Dark Choco determined to work twice as hard at his training, so that he’d be able to take care of himself and Toffee Cookie would be able to join the Watchers like he wanted, and some years later, when Dark Choco was older, Toffee Cookie joined the Watchers, and eventually became Second Watcher Cookie. Not sure if he was originally First Watcher but stepped down when Caramel Arrow Cookie got promoted or if he only got as far as Second Watcher

Also side note I like the idea of Second Watcher being Caramel Arrow’s father, whether biological or not, so there’s more fuel for Dark Choco and Caramel Arrow being siblings

Originally I was gonna draw the two after the incident, with Dark Choco promising to train even harder so that Toffee can join the Watchers, but that would have required dialogue, and also I wanted to draw this scene more

There were gonna be more, but I either don’t remember who they were gonna be with, or it just didn’t fit with the stuff I was drawing, mainly relationships from post Strawberry Jam Sword

For example, I was gonna draw him meeting Purple Yam Cookie during that tournament, only for me to stumble across my old post talking about Dark Choco’s connection to both Milk Cookie and Purple Yam Cookie, and I realized that based on what Purple Yam Cookie says (the fact that “the Dark Choco Cookie he met didn’t know how to smile”, despite the fact that Young Prince Dark Choco Cookie’s sprites almost all show him smiling, other than anger or defeat/exhaustion sprites, implying that he used to smile a lot, and that he “didn’t wear flimsy clean armor”, despite us knowing Dark Choco wore that armor even during his attack on Dark Cacao Cookie), Purple Yam Cookie must have only met Dark Choco Cookie after the Strawberry Jam Sword.

Edit: So I’ve been told that Purple Yam actually probably met Dark Choco before the Strawberry Jam Sword, for the reasons listed here (I’m trying to link it), so what I say here might be moot. Ah well, I still didn’t draw more than an unfinished sketch

But anyways yeah I ended up cropping the canvas short because I couldn’t think of any more and I just wanted to finish this piece

Writing this I think some other ones I was going to draw were Jungleberry (mutual respect as fighters) and his first encounter with Milk, but oh well

Anyways, hope you enjoy!

[reckless-blossoms]

whew i FINALLY got another dentist appointment. i feel anxious and insecure if i don't have one set up. im so glad i'm finally getting my teeth treated, i feel like after that one molar broke things have finally caught up to me and all the bad symptoms are coming in at once. ive been having increased sensitivity in a few teeth and despite my constant upkeep and drastically cutting my sugar consumption it's still one of those things that can't be reversed only cut out entirely.

[silvermeww]

officially (basically) finished my first watchthrough of the pokemon anime

(ignoring 3 movies but listen-)

i have to say i'm pretty surprised, considering how i expected to finish the whole thing in a year (and that was hopeful, looking at 1000+ eps and me with my limited time and focus lol), but hey! it took me 6 months and a half, start to end plus most movies and some side series (i'm not watching those pikachu shorts even if you paid me).

and what a journey it has been.

just watching all of ash's journey, from overconfident rookie with no clue about the outside world, to world champ who has travelled to 8 regions. having went from one stubborn electric mouse that didn't care about him to a good 90 pokemon. started with his mother being his only supporter to so many friends and rivals holding their breath, watching in anticipation of his last move (and giving him help along his road to the world championships, and congratulations at the end). it was a beautiful road, full of hidden treasures and bumps and tough times and rough times, but in the end he made it through! he finally became a champion of a region he loved with all of his heart, and carried that love and experience from all of his journeys to the world stage and pulled it off.

it took everything, and nothing was left to waste, and he did it. and man, if that isn't inspirational, than what is? sure, nothing is perfect, even the actual anime itself, and i can argue and point those out for a good long while, but at least for today i want to be happy. it's a good day, a pretty lucky day if you look at the Friday the 12th thing, and i had a great time watching this as blind as i can (with something as big as pokemon, you can never be fully blind unless you watched it while it was airing lol). had lots of laughs, angry screeching, pointing at screen in shock/surprise, nodding in agreement, and quite a few tears, but my original run is pretty much finito. i might try to watch the whole thing in sub and jot down notes for future fics, but in the meantime it has been stunning, amazing, spectacular. loved everyone and everything, yes even the bad, because in the end there are infinite possibilities, and it really is up to you where you find your future.

(but seriously, can you believe this all started bc he woke up late? talk about the pen problem heh)

what else can i say? it's been a great ride. there are no spoilers that can hurt me (except horizons, but i'll see how that goes). i can finally rank all seasons whenever and whatever, and for the most part i know most pokemon know (but not numbers, pls i'm not a computer). many fun times ahead, and for once i finished something very big very quickly without much regrets. a good series, a great show, and something i can get behind, once i got the momentum. live, love, laugh and idk catch them all <3

[vyrion]

i feel like part of why ive been eclipseposting less ( other than the initial obsession fading) is because ive developed such a specific characterization for them in my brain that i dont want to even hear anythign else

[just-some-random-blogger]

Losing Dogs

Neither you or Aegon wanted to get married. Neither you or Aegon wanted to marry each other. But at some point, you figured you should make the most of what you had, and so you offer your husband a deal he cannot refuse.

Aegon Targaryen x Reader | 6k+ | cw: fem!reader, wife!reader, arranged marriage/loveless marriage, smut (piv, virginity loss, rough/loveless sex) DD:DNE, alcoholism, violence, suicide/suicidal thoughts & ideation, mentions of domestic/child abuse, death, pregnancy/miscarriage, aegon's mommy issues, insecurities, angst, typos, etc.

A/N: ... i had something to say about this fic but i forgot... maybe ill remember later???? edit: i did not remember. i thought of mitski while entitling this so go play i bet on losing dogs ig?

Tagging: @pinksirensong @aralezinspace @deniixlovezelda @azperja @sloanexx @risefallrise

You don't know what you have until it's gone.

Aegon only truly understood what this meant the day he was married and he was forbidden to drink a drop of alcohol.

As if it wasn't painful enough that he was going to be married to a complete stranger from some house he's never fucking heard of, he was erratic and uneasy the whole day because of the withdrawal. He loathes the preparation, the ceremony, the fucking pageantry of it all.

He thinks it was worse that you seemed to be so chipper the entire time. You smiled with a halo, skin shining with the light. You also seemingly did no wrong, judging by the praises you received from his mother and grandfather. But, who was he kidding, of course they fucking loved you, they chose you to be his prison keeper.

You did not press him once, not when you were preparing for the ceremony, not when you were at the feast, not even after the Queen encouraged you to dance.

Anyone with eyes could see from how he slumped on his chair during dinner that Aegon would rather die than circle around the room to this grating noise echoing in the chamber.

The band begins to play another song and another round of dancing ensues.

He stares at the food on the table. Oh, to be a suckling pig.

The relief that coursed through him when he could finally leave was enough to knock him out. Except, he really wanted, no, needed a drink.

He crashes on his bed, belly down, and reaches for the cabinet door on his bedside table. He feels for his bottle, hand knocking into the corners of the compartment, but he sits up when he finds nothing.

He growls in frustration upon realizing this was definitely his mother's doing. Thief!

"I managed a cup."

Aegon struggles to look over his shoulder from his position. He rolls on his back as you walk to the side of the bed.

He stares at you. You offer a glass holding burgundy liquid. Your voice is soft and kind as you explain, "your mother would suspect me if I took a whole bottle."

Aegon pushes himself up and sits on the edge of the bed, facing you. He gulps at the wine you were offering.

Sure, he may not be the brightest, but anyone could tell this scene was the epitome of ulterior motives. Aegon leans on his thighs, "why are you doing this?"

You stare a moment. You clutch the cup in both hands and examine it. Again, your voice is gentle, "you are clearly in torment. It hurts my heart."

His eye twitches.

I see. It seems you were a fucking saint.

Aegon rips the glass out of your hands, some of the wine spills over. He downs the contents in one go, then chucks the glass across the room once he finished.

He looks back at you, glaring with watery eyes. He was exhausted, he was angry, and he wanted you to know it. But you don't flinch at the sound of the glass breaking. You didn't flinch at all when he showed aggression. Why didn't you flinch?

You press your lips and sigh. You step towards him and reach out.

He nervously straightens up and tilts his head back as you approach. His breath hitches when your warm hand touches his cheek. He blinks rapidly.

"It's been a long day. Would you like me to help you change?"

Again, his eye twitches.

And then he realizes what you mean.

Ah. So, this is what you wanted?

He releases a breath, eyes lowering. Your face falls into a slight frown.

He thinks about it for a moment. I mean, sex was sex and he was game. It didn't matter how he performed, his completion was all that mattered, really. And you were pretty enough, albeit irritatingly good.

When you stroke his hair, Aegon pulls at your skirts, causing you to squeak and topple, hands flying to his shoulders for support. Your faces are inches apart. He pulls you down until you have no other choice than to sit on his lap.

You can smell the remnants of the wine he just drank on his breath. Aegon brings his face closer to yours, and you let out a soft 'hmp'. You mutter, "I gather you don't want to change, but want to get out of your clothes."

He narrows his eyes as you shift on his lap and undo the buttons by his chest. He mutters dumbly, "this is what you wanted."

With knit brows, you retort, "I've not yet told you what I wanted." You shift on his lap again as you peel his top off. Amidst it, he asks, "what do you want?"

You grunt after ridding him of his top. You fold it in your arms then set it aside on the bed. You turn back to him. Aegon's breath hitches when you fondle with strings of his undershirt. He watches your lips as you mumble, "I want you to give me a ride on your dragon."

He furrows his brows. But that's what he just said.

You stand, only to lift your skirt and take your place back on his lap. This time, you straddle him.

Aegon gulps, hands coming to your hips like a magnet. He feels you grind on him; shaky breaths leave his lips in response. His hands scratch up your back and a moan escapes him when your nails trace his collarbones.

"Allow me one trip on Sunfyre, and in return, I'll be your magic lamp," you whisper, taking one of his hands, bringing it to the side of your ribs, "you may rub me where you like-"

His heart skips when you kiss his cheek.

"-and I will grant you all your wishes."

Aegon ticks.

The next moment, he pushes you down on the bed. He doesn't bother getting either of you naked, nor does he prepare you at all in fact. Thankfully, you were already wet.

You don't have the opportunity to ask him to be gentle, to explain you were a bride after all, and it was your wedding night.

Aegon grips your skirts as he fucks you like he means to prove a point. He snaps his hips roughly into you to assert dominance, to exemplify control. Sure, you offered yourself to him, but he was the one doing the work, and you were the one beneath him.

In truth, the pace he set gave you more pain rather than pleasure. And with how pent up he was, the rough tempo he set burnt him out way too quickly before it could make any of you feel good. And when he begins to lag, you start to feel good.

You notice this change and rub your nose against his. He recoils, unused to affection when fucking. It snaps him back into an aggressive trance.

You yelp. Aegon convinced himself it was a sound of bliss.

You kiss his jaw and work your way to his ear, hoping to calm him down. He tenses at the feel of your tongue on his lobe. It stokes flames in his belly and makes him involuntarily roll his hips slower to focus on the attention you're giving. In return, his pace is just enough for him to hit that spot that makes you throw your head back.

Aegon is startled by the scratchy groan that leaves your throat. He finds himself lifting his head to spectate, but you pull him into you by the nape and groan, "like that. Please- gods - that feels good."

His brows tense and he rolls his hips again, finding the same reaction.

You wrap your arms and legs around him, uncaring of how hot and sweaty you were getting. In the heat of the moment, you reach for his lips, needing them, needing something to wrap your own on.

Aegon kisses you. He kisses you with a strange twinge in his chest. He kisses you until he has to pull away and reposition himself to catch his building climax.

In a second, he's back to his fuck-loving self, only self-serving and lustful. As he gazes upon your writhing body, catching the beads of sweat on your skin, the concentration on your face, and the way you chant his name as you part your legs for him, he's overcome by another spirit. To watch you break, to watch you coil and collapse around him felt just as urgent as his need to come.

And so Aegon rubs your clit and forces you to peak first; you do it so well he curses loudly and comes after.

He lays on top of you for a moment, the overwhelming need to be held ripples through his body. He recalls how his whores shoo him away after he's done fucking them though. Before you can cradle him in your arms, he rolls off you.

You close your legs and and watch him strip himself and sequentially change. You watch him get back in bed and bring himself underneath the covers. He goes to sleep.

He fucking goes to sleep.

You feel hollow after this, but tell yourself it's nothing personal. You repeat this as you, yourself, get up and change, sequentially sleeping too. Or at least you try. You have fight the urge to cry for hours before you do.

The next morning, you bring up dragon riding to Aegon, and disappointed as you are, you are unsurprised to find that he was unwilling to give you such a thing.

It was a plain thing you were asking for, you explain. And it's exactly why he doesn't want to do it. It's clearly some trick, something to trap him, something he's going to regret. It was probably some ploy orchestrated by his mother.

Oh gods, he thinks, it's worse. It's a bonding experience so you can make him into your puppet. Fuck. No.

So, he does what he does best, and makes an excuse, "I don't feel like riding today. I'm still exhausted from the festivities."

You purse your lips and nod, "that's understandable. Would you like for me to get you something?"

Wait. You weren't going to argue about him not keeping his end of the deal?

You seem to catch this, considering your response and the way you take his hand. You place his palm on your chest. He can feel your pulse quicken as you mutter, "I am your magic lamp, husband. I wish to please you. I will prove this until you trust me enough to grant me a ride on dragonback."

He narrows his eyes, "you would grant me wishes, all in return for a ride on Sunfyre?"

You smile softly at him, "in return for respite, yes."

He doesn't trust your smile.

"I want to visit the Grey Cliffs. I have for a years now. I went there once as a child and long to go again."

"Why?" he knits his brows at your explanation, "what's there?"

You lower his hand and rub his skin, "respite, my prince."

Aegon pulls his hand away.

Very well. If that is what you want, then he will wear your wishes dry until you find it no longer worth the trouble.

Aegon wishes on his lamp everyday, and his wife sequentially plays entertainer, jester, servant, and slave.

He makes you bring a bottle of wine with you everywhere, and pour him a cup when he wishes. He loathes how you seem unbothered by it. He loathes how you don't even correct a visiting Lord who mistakes you for a cupbearer and simply serve him some wine. The Lord is mortified when he realizes you are his wife, a fucking princess. Aegon hates how you tell the man you were unbothered because you spent your whole life being a cupbearer to your father anyway.

He makes you do trivial tasks as well, sometimes tasks meant for more than one person at a time, and yet you still manage to do them, annoyingly better than the maids. When he demanded you cook him a full course meal, you did so all by yourself, and had the servants looking at you like you were some goddess.

He ripped a hole in his clothes then made you mend it. You covered the hole so seamlessly that he poked a bigger one right in front of you. And even then you don't give him the satisfaction of getting angry. You tell him you will embroider something on top of the hole and he storms off. He overhears you telling the servants, who applaud your level-headedness, that you were used to angry men, because your father was just the same.

You use each of these moments to somehow tell him you were the perfect wife and he had to oblige your stupid request at some point.

But then he found your flaw.

Aegon asked you to play the harpsichord for him, and you told him you did not know how. The woman who knew all did not know something? He would then proceed to hang this over your head. When he asked you for food, he'd tell you how much better it'd taste if he had entertainment. If he asked you to do something physically taxing for him, he's say that he wouldn't have asked you to do it, had you known how to play his 'favorite' instrument. He would use this as the reason why he could never bring you to Grey Cliffs.

It was all fun and games, but then you had to snitch, hadn't you?

"What are you doing to that poor girl!" Queen Alicent barked, making his ears ring.

Aegon groans from where he lies in bed. His mother rips the blankets off him, making him wake in a sour mood.

"She is your wife!" Alicent yells, "not your slave! Fine, you wish her to do tasks for you, tasks for your betterment. But to insult her standing by treating her like a maid is beneath a prince, Aegon!"

Aegon feels his throat tighten at the sight of his angry mother's face, "she is my wife," he growls, "I do with her as I please."

She strikes his cheek.

Aegon's head whips to the side. He doesn't have the energy to look back at her.

"You will no longer parade her as a cupbearer. I will have it decreed you are not ever served a drop of wine if you don't."

Alicent leaves after this. Aegon's anger explodes when the door closes.

He screams and rips at his hair. He kicks furniture around and eventually drops to the floor, exhausted, furious, and hurt. This was all your fault.

He screams again and claws the tears on his face. He slowly exhales through tight lips. His cheek is hot with saltwater. Who was he joking, this was all him.

This was all Aegon's doing.

His breathing is impeded by snot. He walks over to his window and stares at the ground below. If he jumps head first, not even the best maester in Westeros could fix him.

Before he can lean on the ledge, he is paralyzed in his spot by the sound of the door opening.

"I did not know she would be angry with you," you say.

Aegon looks back.

You see his red eyes and wet skin. He is a mirror to your younger self. You feel sick to your stomach. You try to explain, "I only asked if she could find a harpsichord teacher. I did not realize she would take offense in wanting to learn to play for you."

Aegon's heart aches at your naïve response. You were a stupid, perfect wife, and he, a stupid, petulant husband.

"I'm better off dead," he mumbles, looking back out the window. The call of the fall felt inviting, "want to push me, wife?"

You don't respond.

Aegon looks back at you, and suddenly you're only inches away. He tries to evade you, but you manage to catch his hand.

"We could jump together."

"What?"

Your face is blank. You part your lips, and for a moment, your eyes seem desperate, but then it's gone. You sigh, "dying is quite lonely," looking down, "I could keep you company."

Aegon stares at you. Tears stream down his face. "You're mad," he sniffles, yanking his hand away.

He walks over to his bed and collapses on it. He wraps himself in a blanket and feels sorry for himself, and angry at you for suggesting such a thing. Even now you want to be perfect by dying with him?

"I am," you mutter.

Aegon watches as you walk over to him. You sit on the floor beside his bed and look at your hands as you rub them.

"I cannot play the harpsichord, because my father does not like noise," you explain, "I was not allowed to make a sound or else I would be punished."

Aegon covers his head with a blanket but keeps his face visible, "he beat you, didn't he?"

You look at him, eyes melancholy, but still, he is the only one crying, "he beat everyone."

Aegon does not respond.

"I can sing though."

His brow raises, "how can you sing?"

"I would practice whenever he was gone, and sing for my mother in secret. It made her happy... happy enough."

He knew there was more to this confession, but he was too tired to ask about it, too tired to shed more tears.

"Would you like me to sing for you?"

"No."

"..."

"..."

"Would you like me to hold you?"

"..."

"..."

"..."

You stand from where you sat and get on the edge of the bed. Aegon watches as you slowly lie beside him. You bring an arm over him and pull him close. Aegon closes his eyes as you bring him into your chest.

You hold him until he falls asleep. Later that night, he asks you to hold him again. He also asks you to sing to him.

Aegon nestles his face in the crook of your neck. He wraps his arms around your torso, digging his fingers between your flesh and the bed. Your hushed voice reverberates in the bedroom, the song you sing is haunting and soothing. The vibrations from your chest lull him to sleep. You feel wetness pool by your clavicle but you make no note of it.

Aegon asks you to hold him the next morning after breaking fast. He asks you to stay with him in bed and to sing to him some more. When you have to leave his side, he asks to join you and waits until he can have you in his arms again.

Aegon becomes your shadow, and follows you around, under the promise of getting to share in your embrace. As you read and review letters or ledgers, your seat becomes Aegon's lap. He sleeps against you while you work without a fuss, cheek pressed against your back, arms fastened around your waist.

Sometimes, he notices the line that forms between your brows while you read and at some point, asks about it. You explain what causes it, and he is unmoved, as he is uninterested in politics that stress you. But when you read out to him, he finds comfort in your voice and asks you to read some. He falls asleep to your calm droning of circumstances he could not care less about. He groans and groggily awakens when you stop. He mumbles against your skin that you continue, pleadingly so.

When you had to leave the Keep for business, Aegon insisted that he joined you. When you brushed his cheek and explained to him why he could not go and that you would not be long, Aegon pushed you away and stormed off. You left without him anyway, and the treachery he felt was so great, he realized then how he could no longer go day to day without you. What was there to do, if you were not there?

And so Aegon desperately rubs his magic lamp and wishes upon you.

He wishes that you never leave without him again once you return.

He wishes that you promise to no longer make plans without him.

He traps you beneath him on your shared bed and wishes to be inside you. He kisses you and wishes to see you completely bared to him.

Aegon's mind is dizzy as he gazes upon the glory of your skin. He kisses your thighs, your hips, your breast, your lips.

Aegon wishes to surrender to you. He wishes that you undress him. He wishes to pull you on his body like a blanket. He wishes to see you take control. He wishes to see you cast your eyes upon him and lay your weight on his body.

He wishes to see you use him, to take what you need from him, to pleasure yourself, and to make him yours. He squeezes your thighs desperately when you moan out his name. This was much more maddening that what he imagined it would be.

He wishes to feel you come undone around him. He wishes he could forever feel the pleasure he did when he comes right after you do.

He wishes to hold you after. And when he holds you, when you lay on his chest and kiss him there, he wishes to never leave this moment ever again. He wishes to sing to you like you've sung to him.

"What are your plans tomorrow," Aegon asks as he draws nothings on your back.

You lift your head from his chest. He looks at you. You smile, "whatever you wish them to be."

He rubs your back and smiles, "I wish to take you to the Grey Cliffs."

Your expression drops, "what?"

He raises a brow at your reaction. You shift on your place. You straddle him again.

He looks up at you, noticing the line between your brows. He rubs your thighs, "you've granted me all my wishes. It's time I grant you yours." He shifts on his elbows and sits himself up, "it's time you meet my mount and-"

"We don't have to," you cut him off, placing your hands on his shoulders.

Aegon examines your expression. He listens to you sigh.

"I'd like to keep you-- wish to keep you..." you correct yourself, pushing him back down.

He looks up at you, feeling your hands rake up his body.

"...just like this," you finish, eyes solemn, lips curving into a soft smile, "I've not felt a thing like this in my entire life."

Aegon takes one of your hands and places it on his cheek. He whispers it like a secret, "neither have I."

You lean down to kiss him, "I wish to keep like this."

He kisses you back.

He is blindsided by how his wishes came to bite him in the arse. It's all crashing down on him. Suddenly, he wishes he didn't actually do any of those things with you.

He most of all wishes he heard you wrong. He wishes you didn't repeat yourself when he stupidly said, "what?"

"I'm with child," you speak slower, less excited yet excited still.

Aegon wishes you didn't look so excited. He wishes he fucking pulled out, but gods, you felt so good-- you feel so good around him, he felt so good inside you.

He realized the next moment, it couldn't be helped. You were going to have to bear his spawn at one point or another. He wishes you didn't have to. He wishes his seed wouldn't take completely. He wishes you don't take it to term. He wishes he won't have to be a father. Fuck.

He realizes he's been too quiet and you were waiting for a response from him. Your face began to twist. Your smile fades.

"Congratulations," Aegon musters. He feels like he swallowed a metal ball. His eyes wander to your belly. He mumbles mindlessly, "I suppose."

Your face falls.

Aegon looks back at you. Your face is devoid of any semblance of the glow it normally holds. You look sick. You feel sick.

"I see," you say, unintentionally allowing him to hear your voice break. Aegon's brows furrow at it.

He shakes his head, "you will be a great mother," he chuckles dryly, "you mother me so well."

You offer him a smile, but Aegon can see how disconnected it was from your eyes. You say, "thank you."

When you leave him after this, he wishes he hadn't said a word. He wishes he just left it at congratulations. He wishes he just pretended like the idea of having a child didn't mortify him and make him sick to his stomach. He wishes he wasn't so ill-suited to be a father.

Ageon no longer wishes for anything after this.

He no longer wishes to hold you, though he so badly wanted to. He no longer wishes to hear you sing, nor does he wish to hear you read to him. He no longer wishes to be around you, though his body urged him to follow you around like the lost soul he was.

He wishes he didn't wonder what you were doing at every moment of the day. He so desperately wishes to rid you from his mind completely that he drowns himself in his first and only true love, alcohol.

Fuck. He wishes he hadn't taken this route to his room. He wishes you hadn't taken this route to wherever it was you were going. He wishes he just turned around and fled like the coward he was, because then, you wouldn't have spoken to him.

"Husband," you curtsey.

Aegon stiffens and uncomfortably avoids your eyes.

You catch it, feeling your chest tighten painfully. You clear your throat and take a deep breath to steel yourself, "I thought you should know that I will be travelling."

Aegon looks at you.

"I have a ship ready and I'll be visiting the Grey Cliffs. Do not wait up for me."

His face falls. He opens his mouth, but doesn't have an opportunity to speak.

"I thought you should also know that I am no longer carrying."

His eyes widen.

"It's not an uncommon occurrence the first few months," you say simply, "I suppose the gods do not wish me to be a mother."

Aegon feels like a murderer. He wants to say something, to apologize, to comfort you, but he can't. He's too taken aback to do a single thing.

He turns into stone when you take his hand. You step forward and place his palm on your chest. Your heart is slow as you speak, "you won't have to worry about anything anymore, Aegon. Today is the end of our shared torment."

Aegon's stomach drops when you kiss him.

His eyes are glassy. You pull away before he can kiss you back. He wants to hold you, but the sadness in your eyes reminds him he is undeserving. You kiss his wrist, "goodbye, my love. I love you."

His heart thumps as you walk away.

Aegon is manic. He basks in the mess he's made and feels crushed by it all.

He finally acts after wasting so much time feeling sorry for himself. You were long out of his sight by the time he started running. This is why he headed to the dragonpit and got on Sunfyre.

"WAIT!" he screams, just as your boat leaves the dock.

Aegon watches as you run to the edge of the boat. He lands Sunfyre and runs as far to the edge of the docks as he could.

"Aegon-"

"Take me with you!" he pleads, "let me be the one to take you to where you must go!"

You look back. The ship stops. The crew brings down a boat and on it, you are rowed back to the dock.

He crushes you in his arms once he reaches you.

"Aegon," you mutter.

"Forgive me," he shudders, "I... I wish you let me do this for you."

"Aegon," your voice croaks. You push him away, "go home."

His heart drops. He breaks away to look at you. Your words feel like a stab at his thorax. It was presumptuous of him to assume you'd want him back, but it doesn't kill him inside any less.

"I've come to realize this is a trip I must go on myself," you mutter.

He shakes his head, "no. Please." He motions an arm out to his mount, "one wish. That I grant you one wish before you throw me away forever is... is--"

Your throat constricts at his words. Tears rush down your eyes, "I'm not throwing you away--"

"Please," he squeezes both your hands in his, "please, let me do this for you."

The flight to the Grey Cliffs is quiet, save for the whoosh of winds and the roars of the golden dragon you both rode. You always imagined it would be freeing, but only now did you know how it freeing it truly felt to fly. You knew now you'd forever chase the euphoric crush of air against your skin.

Aegon, who sat behind you, looks at your form as you outstretch your arms and close your eyes. Your body presses against him, and in this moment, he is unable to hold back from wrapping an arm around you and sparing a kiss on your shoulder. You are snapped out of your trance because of this.

The Grey Cliffs are dark and gloomy when you get there. Aegon realizes when you land that it got its name from the weather conditions.

He helps you down and surveys the area, trying to make out which part of this drear land was so special to you that you wished to go here.

You catch his expression and squeeze his hand.

Aegon turns to you.

You give a solemn look, "the view is better on the edge."

Aegon strokes Sunfyre's cheek, commanding him to stay before you lead him by the hand to the edge of the cliff. Once you get there, he feels queasy looking down at the crashing waves far beneath him. In contrast, you seem comforted by the view. His brows furrow at the deep breath you give out.

When you look at him, his stomach feels it, the comfort you felt upon witnessing the violent waves. Whatever it was that compelled you to this place was the same force that compelled him to kiss you.

He reaches out for your cheek, his other hand coming to you back. He pulls you close. His heart twinges when you stop him from kissing you.

"Aegon-"

"Forgive me," he cuts, "I beg."

You gawk at him. He brushes your hair which was wildly flinging with the breeze.

"You must know by now that I am craven. I lack the spine and the wit to be of any use to you."

Your eyes water. Your lips quiver.

"I would be a hopeless father, worse than my own, no doubt."

"Aegon," you babble as sobs overtake you.

Aegon, himself, succumbs to tears. He wipes the ones streaming down your face before taking a breath, "but you made me feel a love I do not deserve."

You swallow a heavy lump in your throat.

"I love you," he confesses.

"No," you pierce his heart. You shake your head in disagreement, "Aegon, this is a mistake. Bringing you here was a mistake."

"No!" he blurts louder than needed, "this was a choice," he looks down, "I choose to rip my insides out for you to devour. I am miserable, much more in the heat of your hate, but most of all without you."

His downturned eyes land on your face when you grab his wrists. You croak, "I do not hate you."

Aegon is not relieved by the admission, but he chooses to believe you mean it. He smiles softly, "good."

"But I do hate this life I live."

He clenches his jaw. Of course you do.

"You saved me," you press a hand on his cheek, taking your turn to wipe his tears, "even if for a moment."

"I made you miserable."

You chuckle. The sound makes his heart skip.

"You filled my life with purpose," you smile softly, "even when you did not mean to."

Aegon knits his brows deeply and takes your hands. He brings them to his lips and kisses them.

"But accidents happen. You must remember that accidents happen all the time."

Aegon shakes his head, "this is not an accident. Believe me when I say I chose to do this, I- ... I choose to love you."

You sob and turn to your feet.

"Please... believe me."

You sniffle and nod, slowly looking up at him, "I believe you."

You lunge into his arms and seal him into a tight hug. He hugs you back like it's his only way of surviving.

A crack of thunder startles Sunfyre. He becomes restless and steals away Aegon's attention, panicked that he might flee and leave them here.

He pulls away and takes a step towards her. He holds your hand, urging you to follow, "we should go before it rains."

You hug him from behind and press your face into his back, "thank you for taking me on Sunfyre."

"It was a long time coming."

"I've always wondered what it would be like to fly. And now that I know how peaceful it is, I'm ready to fly one last time."

He turns to you as you slowly come to his side. You hold his hand. He looks at you as you turn to Sunfyre. He promises, "I will take you on dragonback as many times as you wish."

You smile, but your eyes are fixed on his dragon. You release his hand and wrap your arms around yourself, "he is beautiful. You must never tire looking at him."

Aegon gazes upon Sunfyre. He takes in his golden scales and has newfound appreciation.

You take a step back.

"He is. To be honest, it's been long since I, myself, took him out of the pit. He must enjoy this day as much as you do."

"Aegon, you must understand that what I have to say has nothing to do with you, and everything to do with me."

Aegon turns to you. He watches you tighten your arms around yourself. You must be cold. He rubs your shoulders.

You shake your head and turn him back to his dragon, "look at Sunfyre."

He knits his brows, "I'm looking."

"For so long," you release him, "I've wanted to fly free, to find my peace here in the cliffs. This was before I even met you." You point at the golden dragon, "I choose to love you too, but accidents happen, like if Sunfyre were to fly away, and you were to be left here alone."

Aegon stares at his ride for a moment as you lower your hand. He tries to makes sense of your words, but he cannot for the life of him understand.

He sighs, "what accident? Why do you keep-"

Aegon is flooded by confusion when he turns and finds you nowhere behind him. A split second later, he lets a horrified scream and the fear that claws into him makes his knees buckle. He crumbles to the ground and crawls to the edge of the cliff. He screams so loud that Sunfyre roars back and comes towards him.

Aegon watches as the red seafoam bubbles at the foot of the cliff. He watches as the crimson waves slowly slosh back into its original tint.

Rain begins to pour, and his tears taste no longer salty.

Was this the flying you ached for? Was this the relief you sought?

When he returns to King's Landing, dripping wet, he breaks down in front of his mother, weeping as he clutched his skirts.

Queen Alicent is obviously disturbed. She instructs her servants to get his son a change of clothes and some towels. She looks down at him, "what's happened? What's wrong, Aegon?"

"An accident-" he barely manages to say, "there's been an accident."

"An accident?!"

Aegon's mind goes blank. A bitter taste

You don't know what you have until it's gone.