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sister-lucifer · 1 month

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Talk About a Mind Fuck

Tim Wright/Masky x Ticci Toby

A COLLAB WITH @cryptidcircuswrites ! PLEASE CHECK OUT HIS VERSION HERE!

Genre: Gore smut

Summary: A mission goes awry and Toby is shot straight through the skull. Tim decides to take the new hole for a spin, and Toby is more than happy to let him have it.

Content/warnings: OHHH MY GOOOOD DONT FUCKING READ THIS IF YOU HAVE A WEAK STOMACH, Toby literally gets his brain fucked, bullet hole wound fucking, explicit gore, I cannot emphasize this enough STRAIGHT UP PENIS IN BRAIN SEX, brain creampie, guns/shooting/etc, age gap but everyone is a consenting adult, fake out death, Toby vomits a little at the end, cum leaking out of face holes it should never be in, mirror sex, rough dom top Tim, Tim bullies Toby for his trauma regarding his physically abusive father, use of homophobic language/slurs, degradation, just general nastiness, very mean spirited. NOT FOR THE FAINT OF HEART. THIS IS AS DEAD DOVE DO NOT EAT AS IT GETS.

A/N: if you skipped the warnings on this one or didn’t read them all the way, go back and fucking look at all of them, otherwise don’t read.

Breaking and entering.

It’s a routine for Tim and Toby at this point.

Tim can brute force open any door, Toby can pick any lock, and both of them have long since shaken off any qualms about taking a life. They’re skilled at it now, neither of them ever leaving the cabin without their weapon of choice. In a line of work like this one, after all, you can never be too prepared.

This was supposed to be easy.

Three people in the house, a couple and their third wheel squatting in an abandoned vacation home. Bare bones interior, probably no weapons.

Probably.

A lot of good ‘probably’ had done them.

Toby had gone in while Tim stood watch in the doorway, just in case one of their targets tried to run out. His revolver fit into his palm like a glove, his grip confident and ready. He’s done this a million times before.

Tim can only hear the altercation going on in the back rooms of the house, but he has a good idea of what’s happening.

The sound of a hatchet coming down onto a throat.

One down.

A woman screams. Something knocks over, a shelf or a table. A splatter. Silence.

Two down.

A man cries out. Something hits the wall. Rogers swears. There’s a struggle. A gunshot rings out.

…A gunshot.

A gunshot?!

Footsteps.

Fast, frantic footsteps coming down the hallway.

Tim readies himself, aiming towards the dark hall with a hand that is far too steady. He’s holding his breath. The steps are getting closer.

In a split second’s time the last target emerges from the shadows, Tim’s gaze zeroes in on the whites of his eyes and the trigger of his revolver is pulled by a swift finger one, two, then three times.

The shots ring in his ears as the body falls limply to the floor, devoid of life in an instant.

Three down.

But still one bullet unaccounted for.

“Rogers?” Tim calls into the hallway, stepping over the body without looking down.

No answer.

“Rogers!” He says again, with more authority this time.

Nothing.

That little fucker runs his mouth like an engine at all hours of the day, but now he’s quiet?

A stabbing pain of fear twists in Tim’s gut.

Their ‘boss’ won’t let them die, he knows that. The pseudo immortality they’ve been given keeps their bodies functioning and regenerating even after some of the worst injuries one could imagine; he knows that, he’s felt it, and yet…

This silence is sickening.

He can’t stop himself from rushing into the makeshift bedroom, heavy boots on the creaky wood floor announcing his presence before he calls for his partner again.

“Answer me, dammit, Rogers!”

He looks around the room, scanning the blood splattered walls. Two bodies are slumped against them, opposite to each other, one with its neck severed and the head hanging on by a thread of viscera, and the other with half of its innards thrown to the floor. Neither are Toby, he knows that in an instant.

Then his gaze trails to the center of the floor.

The cold washes over him so suddenly he feels faint. He can feel the color draining from his face as he lays eyes on his partner, face down on the ground, a thick splatter of blood painting a moonlit halo around his head.

Or what’s left of it, anyways.

A hastily fired bullet has carved a path through the boy’s skull and out the other side.

Clean through.

Tim’s body seizes with shock, disgust, grief, and everything in between, tensing so suddenly and so harshly he nearly passes out. A hand clamps over his mouth as it opens in a silent scream, a gasp that can’t escape because he can’t breathe. He rushes to the body before he can stop himself.

“Rogers?! Rogers, get up!” He demands, but the way his voice cracks and trembles shows his true fear. He shakes his partner’s still body harshly, desperate to jar him into consciousness.

There’s no movement.

Not a sound.

Tim’s eyes start to wet behind his mask. He shakes harder, even bringing a fist down on his shoulder blade.

Nothing.

“This isn’t fucking funny, Toby!” Tim screams, landing a few more punches on his back, “I’ve seen you take worse than this, get up!”

Not even a twitch.

The realization settles in like splinters under Tim’s skin.

He backs away from the body, the room spinning around him. He grasps at his face under his mask, his lungs starting to expand and restrict so fast it’s painful. There’s a searing panic burning the back of his skull and threatening to engulf his entire body. He stumbles back and falls onto one of the now bloodied mattresses their targets had been sleeping on.

This isn’t happening.

He’s not really gone.

He’s not really gone he’s not really gone he’s not really gone he’s not really gone he’s not really gone—

A sudden noise makes Tim jump out of his skin, his eyes shooting up to find the source of the sound.

Was that a…cough?

He looks down at Toby’s body.

It hasn’t moved.

Maybe it was just air escaping, or some other weird thing bodies do after death. If he didn’t get up already, then he must be…

Tim nearly screams when Toby suddenly splutters and hacks, his body jerking as he fights for air. Tim is frozen in place as he watches the partner he thought was dead slowly struggle to get up, managing to get on his hands and knees. He coughs again, spitting onto the ground and groaning at the unpleasant but not unfamiliar sight of blood.

“Yeugh…god, it’s in m-my nose,” Toby mumbles with a sniffle, wiping his face with his sleeve. He doesn’t notice Tim as he sits up on his knees, inspecting himself in a way that is far too casual.

…He has no idea what just happened.

Tim can feel his eye twitching as he stands up slowly, his frenzied gaze trained on the younger man as he approaches. Toby looks up at the sound of the footsteps, and Tim has to stop himself from reacting to the sight. His body trembles as he forces himself to stay still.

Toby’s right eye is completely gone. There’s not even a shred of the eyeball left, only a pulsing, bloody cavity he instantly recognizes as the entry hole of a bullet.

Toby blinks up at Tim with his remaining eye.

“S-Shit, I must’ve passed out when—bitch!—when h-he hit me, heh. What, you-you thought I was—grrrk!—d-dead for real?” Toby asks with a head tilt and an amused giggle. Tim’s eyes narrow.

Slowly Tim turns his head, following the imaginary trail the bullet would have made based on where Toby fell.

Right there, lodged into the decrepit wall right next to the doorway.

The first bullet.

Clean through, and out the back.

Toby follows his gaze, squinting in the dark to see whatever it is his senior partner is seeing.

“…O-Oh shit,” He mutters, “Talk about a-a close—don’t listen!—a close call—c-call—call me!—hehe…”

Tim stares back at him with a look in his eyes that says ‘You have no fucking idea.’

“…W-Why are you looking at me— a-at me like that?”

Tim looks around. For some reason, he’s not sure how to answer that.

That is, until he lays eyes on a conspicuously mirror shaped object draped in a sheet and pushed into the corner.

Yeah, it’s easier to just show him.

Tim shoves his hands into the pockets of his jacket as he walks over to the mirror, trying not to rush. He’s annoyed with Toby for scaring him like that and nearly bringing him to tears, even if it’s not really his fault. Maybe startling him a bit will take the edge off that embarrassment.

Toby’s eye follows him closely as he walks, then watches as his hand slowly raises to grasp the sheet obscuring the mirror. His brow raises, curiosity piqued.

The sheet is pulled away in an instant. The cloud of dust that results makes Toby cough, trying to wave it away from his face. He squints through the grimy mist, struggling to make out his own reflection in the mirror.

“L-Look, Tim, I don’t know what it-it is that you n-need me to—suck it! fuck you!—see, but I-I don’t— Oh my fucking God?!”

There it is.

Toby crawls closer to the mirror, his remaining eye wider than Tim had ever seen it and the hole where the matching one would’ve been stretching gruesomely.

Tim winces. Toby can’t feel it, even if he could feel pain normally all that nerve damage would make it numb, but Tim can’t stop imagining what it would feel like.

“…Jesus Christ…” Is all Toby can manage as he looks at what remains of his face. He feels around the wound, getting far too close to touching the exposed insides for Tim’s comfort. Toby stares at himself for a long few moments. Tim can’t tell what he’s thinking.

Then Toby turns to his partner, and to Tim’s surprise, he’s sporting the widest, most lopsided grin he’s ever seen, his crooked teeth stained with blood on one side where it runs down his cheek from the wound. Tim holds back a shudder.

“The fuck you cheesin’ for?” Tim growls, walking around behind Toby to see him in the mirror, “You nearly got half your damn face blown off!”

“Relax, o-old man!” Toby replies without missing a beat, “In a-a few days there won’t e-even be a— b-be a mark…”

Tim rolls his eyes behind his mask. That’s true, yes. An injury this extensive will take a bit to regenerate, but it’ll grow back like nothing happened. Still, Toby doesn’t even seem mildly disturbed. He practically saw himself die, and here he is giggling to himself and moving his face in odd ways just to see the horrid wound contort in the mirror. The quiet squelching noises it makes nearly bring Tim to vomit.

“…You’re not even a little put off by the fact that…you know. You’re missing half your fuckin’ face?!”

Toby lets out a sharp laugh at Tim’s outburst, amused by his clear discomfort.

“Don’t be s-such a—bitch! bastard!— baby, I-I think it’s—asshole!—I think it’s k-kinda cool. Besides…”

He turns to look up at Tim, yellow teeth glowing in the moonlight that leaks in through the busted windows.

“…I-I got a brand new hole f-for you to try out.”

Tim gasps in disgust. Before he can think a hand comes up to smack Toby upside the head, though he immediately regrets it when a splatter of blood is thrown to the floor as Toby rocks forward.

“Don’t say shit like that, you dirty fuckin’ pervert!”

Toby nearly breaks out into hysterics at that, grabbing his sides as he laughs like a maniac. His tics increase tenfold at the sudden rush of energy, his fingers flexing unnaturally and tearing at his sweatshirt.

“H-How can I not?! You m-make it so f-fucking—fuck! funny!— fun, haha!” Toby replies, his voice cracking as his head jerks involuntarily in all directions.

Tim crosses his arms, huffing in annoyance but not sure what to say. He can feel his cheeks getting warm under his mask. He hates when Toby laughs at him. It pisses him off like nothing else.

He stares daggers into Toby’s restless reflection as he leans into the mirror to inspect his wound again, mumbling to himself endlessly and doing his best to stay still.

Toby’s rambling starts to fade out as Tim glares at his mirror image. He can feel something dark bubbling up inside of him, its vines sprawling out and over his body as he marinates in his thoughts.

He thought he was gone.

For a second there, he really thought he’d lost Toby for good.

And now here he is, without a care in the world, looking at his own fucking gunshot wound like it’s a new tattoo.

Someone oughta teach this kid a lesson.

Tim’s not sure what comes over him, but something, a nagging little thought has settled into his brain and taken root there. It thumps in the back of his skull like a heartbeat under the floorboards. He pulls one of his hands from its glove, looking down at his bare palm.

“…You think this is all some joke, don’t you?” Tim mutters, forcing the words through gritted teeth. Toby doesn’t even turn to look at him.

“W-Why are so damn u-uptight, old man? It’s not—grrrk!—it’s not like I d-died. Psuedo-immortality, r-remember?”

“But you could’ve. You know at the end of the day you can’t really trust anything that monster gives you. It would kill you in an instant if it felt threatened or betrayed.”

“T-The fuck is your— i-is your problem?!”

Suddenly Toby isn’t all smiles anymore. His head jerks to the side violently, pulling a sickening pop from his neck. Tim is used to these mood swings, but that doesn’t stop the heavy tension that settles over the room.

“Y-You’re always on my back about something, a-aren’t you old man?!” Toby hisses. Tim’s ungloved hand squeezes and flexes at his side.

“You a-always got something to say about m-me, or what I—fucker! shit!—what I-I think, you can never j-just let me—“

Toby is cut off as a high pitched cry is violently forced from his throat, making his body spasm as it dissolves into an animalistic moan like neither of them have ever heard. It feels like every nerve in his body is seizing, splitting apart and contorting under his skin. He almost screams at the feeling, but he can’t manage it. He’s choking on nothing.

There’s a sickening squelch as something is ripped from the back of his skull, and he falls forward onto his hands, dizzy and struggling to breathe.

“W-What…what the f-fuck…was…”

He can’t even finish the sentence between his inability to process the unnatural sensation that just overtook him and the indescribable feeling still rippling through his body.

Slowly he cranes his neck to look back up into the mirror. Instantly his eye is locked onto Tim’s, but he isn’t looking back. He’s staring at something else.

He follows Tim’s gaze down slowly, swallowing thickly with a sudden nervousness. His eye widens as it falls on the thing that has captivated Tim‘s gaze:

His ungloved hand, the middle and ring fingers now dripping with blood and viscera not his own.

No. Fucking. Way.

“Did…d-did you just…”

Tim doesn’t answer.

He doesn’t have to.

For the first time in a long time, Toby is still. His twitching and jerking ceases, his face halts its uncomfortable wrenching; He’s still, and soundless.

There’s a beat of silence where they both just stare at Tim’s bloodied hand, neither of them moving an inch. It’s like time has stopped in this instant. Toby can feel his heartbeat throbbing in his brain. Something in his chest is twisting and turning with a burning emotion he can’t quite place yet.

He doesn’t even have time to process the sudden movement before Tim has plunged his fingers into the wound once again.

This time Toby is forced to watch his reflection in the mirror as Tim violates the gorey cavity, thick digits rooting around inside his head and shooting a new sensation through him with every touch. His entire body stiffens, his mouth falling open involuntarily as he loses control of it. He can feel his senses being reduced to mush as he groans, the endless sound falling from his lips in unintelligible waves. It’s mindless, desperate babbling, but he can’t do anything else.

Toby watches the depraved scene in the mirror until his eye starts to roll back in his head, further than it should be able to. Tim watches the hazel iris recede until only white is left. Only then does he finally give some reprieve, yanking his hand back and shaking off the chunks that come with it.

Toby’s head bows towards the ground as he catches his breath, his entire body rocking as he heaves desperately for air. He’s too preoccupied to notice the way Tim is leering down at him, his breathing now hot and labored.

“…How did that feel?”

Toby sneers at the question, not looking up.

“H-How did it feel?! You’re d-digging around—shhhh!— in m-my fucking brain, d-dipshit, how do you— d-do you think it f-feels?!”

“I don’t know. That’s why I’m asking. I know it doesn’t hurt, so how does it feel?”

For some reason, Toby doesn’t have an answer to that. He wants to snap back with something witty and biting, to tell him it feels like Hell and back and if he doesn’t stop he’ll scatter his brains next, but…

That wouldn’t be the total truth.

“…It…I-It feels…” He stammers, unable to find the words. He sits back up on his knees, locking eyes with his partner in the mirror. Tim is silent. He’s anticipating the rest of that sentence. Toby thinks for a moment, a series of tongue clicks in an odd rhythm sounding as he pauses.

“…It…I-It wasn’t bad, if that’s w-what you’re looking for.”

Tim’s breath hitches.

Only Toby could hear a sound so small, yet so telling.

He has to push this further.

“A-Actually it was kind of…k-kind of good, y-you know? I-I don’t know—rrrngh!—how to explain it, but i-it just…it’s like n-nothing I’ve ever f-felt or imagined, I-I—“

Toby cuts himself off with a gasp as Tim grasps his hair tightly. His other hand moves to his belt. The sound of the metal buckle makes Toby shiver.

Tim leans down a bit, speaking lowly to his partner.

“Keep talking.”

Toby’s stomach flips.

Tim’s not giving him a choice.

“I-It’s like…fuck, it’s l-like every muscle in my— in my b-body is spasming like c-crazy,” Toby continues, watching with crazed eyes as Tim slides the belt from its loops. He grits his teeth as it clatters to the ground.

He doesn’t want this to stop.

He has to keep going.

“I-It’s like f-fire under my skin, b-but I can’t feel t-the burn…”

Tim’s hand moves to the fly of his jeans.

“…I-I lose all control of m-my body, I can’t—fuck off!—I-I can’t even think, i-it just all turns i-into gibberish…”

Tim tugs down his zipper, and Toby can see his twitching bulge straining against his boxers.

“…It’s l-like I can feel myself l-losing my mind, and I c-can’t do anything— d-do anything about it, I c-can’t even p-put—put it back! put it back!—put together a sentence…”

Tim hooks a thumb under the waistband of his boxers. He starts to push them down.

“…F-Fuck, Tim, I-I wanna feel it again.”

Toby clamps a hand over his mouth to stifle the moan that threatens to break free as he watches Tim’s erection spring free from the confines of his clothes. He’s thick and uncut, throbbing with rabid need. Toby shudders as his partner lets out a relieved groan, breathing hard under his mask.

“S-Shit, Tim…y-your—your cock! your cock!—n-no! I mean you’re—your cock! your cock! fat cock!—dammit! I-I didn’t mean to s-say that—!”

“I’m taking you up on your offer, Rogers…” Tim growls, cutting off Toby’s attempt to explain himself. He grabs Toby’s head with both hands, fingers digging into the front of his wound on one side and the gash in his cheek on the other. This time Toby doesn’t bother to stop the moan that crawls up his throat as he feels Tim’s cock rut against the back of his head.

“…I wanna give this new hole of yours a proper fucking. What do you say?”

Toby can’t see Tim’s mouth, but he can tell he’s smiling from the way his eyes crinkle at the corners behind his mask. Toby groans at the thought. He can’t stop the crooked grin that spreads across his pale face like butter on a hot pan.

“P…P-Please, Tim,” He whispers, and he knows he’s hit a nerve when he feels Tim‘s grip tighten for a moment.

“…Please what, Rogers?”

He figured he wouldn’t get it that easy.

“Please, Tim,” Toby continues, sucking in a breath and swallowing his pride, “I-I want you t-to fuck me, please—“

Tim ruts against the back of his head again, barely brushing his wound. He wants more.

“P-Please, fuck, I-I’m—need! give it!—I’m begging you! I need it, I-I need you to fuck m-my brains out, please!”

Tim shifts his hips. He’s lining up at the opening.

It’s working.

“Please, please, p-please, Tim, I-I want you to f-fuck my brain! I n-need to—fffuck! fuck! fuck!—I need t-to feel it! Please, dammit, j-just fucking—!”

Toby doesn’t get a chance to finish his sentence.

Tim shoves himself inside the bloody cavity without warning, forcing Toby’s brain out of the way as his cock enters. The scream that rocks Toby’s body is as lustful as it is carnal and gruesome. He reaches up on instinct and grabs Tim’s wrists, not trying to pull his hands away but holding on for dear life before he loses the ability to move at all.

“You broke so easy,” Tim sneers as he bottoms out, talking over Toby’s uncontrollable moaning, “What would the others think if they saw you begging for dick like a whore on the street? Huh?!”

He punctuates his sentence with a sudden rut of his hips, making Toby yelp and his body jerk. His nails dig into Tim’s arms, and the pain is delicious.

Tim studies the scene before him in the mirror.

It’s disgusting. It’s horrid. He can see the tip of his leaking cock resting inside his partner’s skull.

He doesn’t want this to end.

He’s going to relish this opportunity, every sickening moment of it.

“What would they think…”

Tim starts to pull back, breath trembling at the slick noises from the movement.

“…If they knew I had you whining for me like a dirty fuckin’ sissy?!”

He pushes back in with even more force than before. Blood is forced out the front of the wound, dripping down Toby’s face and onto the floor, leaving a red trail on his skin. His meaningless babbling is music to Tim’s ears.

Again Tim pulls back, faster this time, and pushes in again. He watches Toby’s face in the mirror as he finds his rhythm, completely enamored as it contorts with overwhelming sensations that no human should ever experience. His mouth is hanging completely open, his tongue limp and lying against his chin as he pants and wails desperately like a dog in heat. He’s starting to drool from the lack of muscle control.

There’s something about watching Toby quite literally lose his mind at his hand that makes Tim feel like God.

“You know, I like you a lot better when you can’t run your mouth,” Tim says with a chuckle. He digs his fingers into the front of the wound, groping around in the cavity and feeling the pulsing meat shift under the pads of his fingertips.

“You’re lucky I’m not gonna tell anyone about this, not gonna tell the others you’re a nasty fuckin’ faggot who’s so desperate for dick you’d take it in your brain…at least someone’s finally making use of the lump of meat in your head, eh?!”

He pulls Toby’s skull back on his cock hard and fast, fucking into the hole with more fervor than he thought possible. His arms are bleeding now from where Toby’s nails are digging in, his knuckles locked up as his motor function is ripped to shreds.

Tim’s eyes trail down the reflection as he thrusts, down to Toby’s body and stopping at the tent in his pants. There’s a painfully obvious stain on his groin now where his erection is straining against the denim of his jeans with wretched need. His precum is leaking through the material in viscous waves, a constant stream of shameful arousal. It looks like it hurts, like his zipper is about to burst, but Tim has no interest in granting him even that small mercy of freeing his hard-on.

“Damn,” He mumbles to himself, watching the liquid pool where the tip of his partner’s cock pushes against his pants, “You really are enjoying this, aren’t you? You’re not just tolerating it to see how far I’ll go, you’re getting off on this shit! You’re a dirty fuckin’ boy slut!”

He’s getting mean, meaner than he really needs to be, but he doesn’t care. Toby might not even be able to hear him, and even if he can, Tim’s not going to waste this chance while his partner can’t snap back.

He ruts his hips more intentionally, trying to hit every spot he can. He’s catching on to patterns, that certain touches here or there make Toby twitch or jerk or yelp involuntarily. His eye has rolled back in his head almost completely. It looks agonizing, and it only makes Tim thrust faster.

“Then again, in that messed up little mind of yours I bet this is nothing. You’re so used to gettin’ beat on this practically soft to you, ain’t it?! Or did your old man slam your head into the concrete too many times for you to know the damn difference?!”

Tim’s practically screaming at him now, drool running down his chin and neck as he loses himself to the pleasure. It’s unbearably hot under his mask, but he can’t bring himself to release his death grip on Toby’s head to take it off.

“I should’ve put you in your place a long time ago, lord knows you’ve needed it for who knows how long!”

Tim angles his hips upward a bit, brushing against a certain spot that makes Toby tense and cry out suddenly. The thing Tim notices most, though, is the way Toby’s cock twitches in his pants. It spurts just a bit, not climaxing yet but getting dangerously close. The stain on the front of his pants is only growing with each passing second that Tim violates his brain.

“Oh, you really are disgusting,” Tim huffs, “You’re really about to cum in your pants, and I haven’t even touched your cock? That’s pathetic, Rogers.”

Tim angles his hips up again just to watch the precum gush from his partner’s tip, his stomach flipping in his gut at the thought that Toby is so, so damn close, but he can’t beg for more or touch himself or even move at all.

“Nngh…Like hell I’m gonna let a little bitch boy like you cum first, though.”

He takes a moment to adjust his grip. He’s preparing for the last stretch.

The speed of his thrusting increases tenfold, completely losing all sense of rhythm. He can feel the pleasure taking him over, melting his resolve and screaming at him to go, go, go, just keeping going, go until you can’t anymore, and that’s exactly what he intends to do.

“You better take all of my cum, Rogers,” Tim growls through gritted teeth, “Though I ain’t exactly giving you a choice, am I? You’ll take it whether you like it or not…”

He hasn’t looked away from Toby’s face in the mirror. The sight of it twitching and frozen in a state of screaming ecstasy is like a horrific work of art. Tim’s never going to forget it. He won’t forget any of this. Every second is burned into his brain, and he’s more than happy to keep it that way.

The gory cavity is carved into the shape of Tim’s cock by now, each thrust only feeding the growing puddle of blood and viscera on the ground below Toby. That stain will stay there forever, Tim thinks. A permanent reminder of the debauchery the two of them are so gleefully partaking in. The idea of someone else finding this old house scattered with bodies, walking around and not even knowing the half of what these walls have been subjected to…

God, that’s good.

The knot in Tim’s stomach starts to tighten.

He can’t hold on for much longer. Neither can Toby.

Tim angles his hips in that special way again, hitting that sensitive spot over and over and over again with each frenzied thrust. Toby’s practically soaking himself now, so close to the edge but not quite close enough to fall off, though he runs the risk with each passing second. It’s barely a matter of time.

Faster, faster, faster, that’s the only thing Tim can think.

More, more, more, that’s all he can think about.

Faster, faster, faster, more, more, more, more, more more more moremoremore—

“Shit!”

Suddenly Tim throws his head back with a wild noise, his cock releasing without warning into the bloody cavity he’s been so graciously desecrating. At the same time he brushes that spot again, and it’s finally enough to give Toby his release, too, only a second later. His cum soaks the front of his now completely ruined jeans, the shameful stain running down his groin and thighs. The scream he lets out as his climax rocks his body will haunt Tim’s dreams.

Tim’s thrusting doesn’t slow to a stop until it feels like his balls are empty. Only then does he finally go still, allowing himself to breathe. He looks up at the ceiling as he pants, letting his eyes flutter closed for a moment as his orgasm gradually washes away.

Finally Tim allows his fingers to unfurl, releasing Toby as he pulls his cock from his ruined skull. It comes back soaked in blood and sticky with viscera, taking a few chunks with it. He tries to step back, but Toby’s still gripping his wrists.

He manages to shake him off, only for Toby’s body to go completely limp and fall forward, face first onto the dusty wood floor and into the puddle of mixed bodily fluids. He twitches a bit, but doesn’t move or show any signs of life beyond that. Anyone else would think he’s dead.

“I’m not falling for that again,” Tim mumbles with an eye roll, using his discarded glove to wipe off his now flaccid cock before tucking it back into his boxers and zipping up his pants.

He crouches over Toby, grabbing his hair and forcing him up from the floor back onto his knees. All Toby can manage is a pathetic groan. Tim studies his partner’s fucked-out face in the mirror for a moment, watching as the blood and seed lazily roll down his cheek and chin. He can’t help but chuckle to himself.

“…Anything to say for yourself?” Tim asks teasingly, shaking him a bit.

The only response he gets is the sound of gagging as Toby retches. Tim barely moves back in time to watch him cough up a horrible concoction of blood, cum, and God knows what else without being in the splash zone.

“Goddammit, watch it!” Tim scolds cruelly, “If you hurl on my new boots I’m leaving you like this.”

He at least has the decency to let Toby finish before scooping up his limp, helpless body. He carries him under his arm like a log, not taking any care to be gentle.

“I’ll get you back home to Eyeless,” Tim mutters, “He doesn’t ask too many questions, and he’ll patch you up good ‘til you’re all healed…”

Tim tries not to think too hard as he carries his partner out of the house, away from the crime scene and into the endless wooded darkness.

All is quiet for a moment, save for the sound of Tim’s heavy steps on the dry leaves. That is, until what Tim thinks is a muffled giggle sounds from his partner. He stops and looks back, but there’s no more noise.

Dammit, he thinks.

Neither of us are going to be forgetting this.

Like my writing? I take requests! NSFW or SFW for any fandoms in my bio (request rules + masterlist in pinned post)!

Also, please reblog! it’s free, takes two seconds, and really helps me out

Feedback is encouraged and appreciated:)

Not fully proofread! Let me know if you see any errors!

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visenyaism · 7 months

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Just saw your poll and damn why would anyone like bloodraven? And above that over baelor breakspeare (what rhaegar fan think rhaegar is supposed to be). your thoughts?

why would anyone like the ambiguously evil bastard advisor who has the personality of someone who stepped directly out of the cold war in an otherwise entirely medieval setting who uses his evil father’s bloodline and his mother’s blood magic to lock down the realm for decades both out of limitless ambition AND genuine love for his older king brother, who let the entire realm see him as a caricature of an evil wizard for years because of his disability while actually being a very funny and affable dude even while actively running a surveillance anti-blackfyre sting operation, and who let himself turn into a tree both to gain magic power and groom child soldiers AND to save the realm from the cold dark? more than the doomed shadow of the perfect prince on the wall who exists to die? what you dont understand could fill a whole book

#asoiaf #that’s federal agent pookie that’s senator rivers of the un-valyrian activities committee that’s peepaw weirwood

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moondust-writes · 1 year

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͙۪۪̥˚┊❛ [dating headcanons] ❜┊˚ ͙۪۪̥◌ .ೃ࿐ shadow the hedgehog ⋆.ೃ࿔*:･safe for work; romantic

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ one thing that should be clear is that this hedgehog is traumatized - i mean, someone he was close to died, and then he almost died at the end of Sonic Adventures 2 (did die, even, until the fandom decided they wanted Shadow to be a returning character). a relationship isn't going to be easy

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ the first hurdle, would be befriending him. unlike others (i.e. team sonic), he would keep anyone at an arms length, try to avoid becoming attached - and immediately pulling away as soon as he notices any attachment ╰┈➤ this is how he is with everyone; he used to be open and less guarded with others, like Rouge and Omega, though his anxious attachment style later caused him to pull back - this is unavoidable, and questioning him about it will only cause it to worsen for a week or so

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ you'd have to be the one to take the first step when it comes to starting a friendship, be it as small as just sitting in the same area doing your own thing, or even initiating a conversation despite the 'dont talk to me' energy he often radiates - it'd be like talking to a wall, so hopefully you can keep up a one sided conversation

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ you'll know that he'll start to consider you to at least be an acquaintance when he starts to allow himself to be in your presence longer than usual, and even give brief responses to whatever it is you had been talking about. even if it is just as small as a hum of acknowledgement; when he considers you to be a friend? he'll start to seek you out every now and again when he has the free time to do so, and even engage in a proper conversation ╰┈➤ it is during the friendship that he begins to catch feelings; there will be moments of vulnerability, of openness. only when he realizes he doesn't mind it when you hug him or hold his hand to drag him somewhere that he will realize he is becoming attached and pull away

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ the confession is far from planned - more so accidental. but either way, he is the first to confess. it wasn't one of his smoothest moments, 'embarrassing,' more like it; but it was sweet, endearing ╰┈➤ you or his friends would have confronted him about the sudden distance, and while he'd try to avoid it, the pain from the single question of 'did i do something wrong?' would hurt too much; he had to let you know it wasn't you! even if it would damage his pride to admit that he, the ultimate lifeform, was scared and didn't know what these feelings meant(it was adorable, to see him flushed red as he put his feelings into words, the shade darkening as you explained that what he described was love - and that it was okay to be scared)

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ the start of the relationship was, well, rough. but! shadow is determined to show that he is serious about you! due to what happened to maria, he will be protective - even if you can fend for yourself. some firm boundaries and reassurance can fix this; he'll get better over time

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ pet names aren't something shadow deems to be necessary, so he'll typically just use your name or some nickname derived from it. if you express your love for them, though, he may just use 'honeydew' or 'darling' ╰┈➤ pet names won't be used in public on his end though, he views them as intimate things for only you to hear him call you - they're just for you and only you

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ personally, i think he's more shy when it comes to PDA, but all for it! you just won't often catch him being the one to initiate it unless he sees someone eyeing you or something is going on nearby. his default is holding your hand, but if he is a little bit more bold, he may just wrap his arm around your shoulder

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ not much of a cuddlebug, but he adores giving fleeting touches behind closed doors or when there is a moment alone with you. typically its a short peck on the lips, or a simple hug. at night, though, he will gladly cuddle, typically being the big spoon

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ shadow can have nightmares, though it isn't often that it occurs. on these nights, please let him bury his face in your chest while you groom his quills. it helps so much, and the purrs you get in return are absolutely precious

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ all in all, he would do anything for you and be vulnerable just for you; with help, he might even just be able to let himself joke around and have fun with his friends like he used to <3

#moondust trail #headcanons #sonic x reader #shadow the hedgehog x reader

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darkficsyouneveraskedfor · 8 months

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Blessed Are The Meek 7

Summary: you are trapped in an awkward circumstance with a widowed commander. (Handmaid AU)

Warning: this series will contain violence, dystopian aspects, rape and noncon, blood, coercion, sterility, and other dark elements. Please read these warnings and beware.

Character: Tommy Shelby

Note: thank you for following along. I’m sure yall didn’t expect to write Tommy again but here we are. Also feedback and comments if you dont mind. Maybe a reblog. 💕💕💕💕

The Commander drives through the streets of the capital. You are as you always are. Eyes down and forward. You touch the grey cuffs of your smock and a wash of dread flows through you.

The weight in your chest sinks further as he comes to a stop. A guardian approaches the car and opens your door. You’re ushered out onto the street. You don’t look back as the tires roll away and you’re left without explanation.

The man makes no move to seize you. He merely directs you onward towards an unmarked door at the side of a tall brick building. Not a word between you as he gestures you inside.

It is brighter within. You follow long bending hallways, pure white walls and unscuffed floors. On and on until you are stopped again. Another door without number or word. He opens it and lets it fall open.

“Go inside. Sit.”

You obey. The door remains open as your footsteps echo in the empty room. You sit in the single chair across from a long curved table. While the chair you claim is cold and hard, those behind the table are cushioned.

You perch on the edge and wait, examining the featureless walls. You twine your fingers together and squeeze. A sterile smell dries your nose as the blankness reminds you of somewhere else. Some time else.

The beeping of machines, the chatter of staff, the sweeping of shadows from doorways, a nurse with a clipboard calling for the next to triage. A child against you, shivering and sobbing against your shoulder. Your son, clinging to his mother, needing her, trusting her.

Another door opens. Three men emerge and claim the seats behind the table. Your vision comes to focus. You don’t know any of them but they are dressed prim like most Commanders.

Your name echoes around you. Not ‘martha’, not ‘woman’, no, your name.

“Is that you?” The man in the center asks.

“Yes,” you answer, your voice catching in your throat.

A pen scratches on paper. The next question. Birthdate? Birth place? Medical conditions? Each answered in confusion. Why do they need to know all this. They’re just sending you to die.

“Children?” The man on the right prompts.

“One.”

Silence. Waiting. You continue.

“A son.”

“Would that be Elijah. Commander of Nalor County.”

“That is his name, I am unable to confirm his title,” you reply in a wisp. A commander? Your some is just the same, torturing women, living off their suffering.

“You have been a martha to Commander Shelby for how long?”

“I believe four years, but I cannot confirm for sure.”

“You aided his wife in her labour?”

“I did.”

Your neck trickles with sweat and your hair stands on end.

“During which, she died.”

“Yes.”

“And you would agree with the physician’s diagnosis that this was an unpreventable death?”

“I can only take his word. I was there to assist. I am not trained in that practice.”

“And when was your last menstruation?” The man on the left takes over.

You hesitate. You wet your lips with your tongue.

“You do still have a cycle?” He prompts.

“Two weeks ago.”

“And it comes routinely?”

“Yes.”

The men are quiet. They look at each other and then the papers before them. They nod and stand up. They say nothing else before they leave you. You frown. There is little use for an old woman who bleeds like a stuck pig.

You stay as you are. You wait. Your ears ring in the static silence. When at last footfalls approach, you do not look up. The guardian tells you to stand and you follow him from the room.

You are taken to another, again left alone. Two women in tan enter and bark at you to undress. They help, moreso strip you with tugs and yanks. Once you are naked they lay you on the metal table. They force you to bend your legs. You do not fight, too stunned to resist.

They poke and prod between your legs, a single digit slid inside, feeling around until they are content. They take your clothing and leave you, shivering and bare. You sit up and stare at the wall.

Another woman in brown enters. She nears with a parcel and puts it beside you, placing a pair of blue suede shoes on top. A simple word; ‘dress’.

She remains and watches you peel the paper back to reveal the blue dress, a fresh shift, stocking, and cape. You pull each piece on and the aunt helps impatiently, snapping into place the blue cape. You look at her but she will not meet your eye. She is not much older than you.

“Go out. The guardian will guide you.”

You cross the room, shuddering as you try to understand what is happening. It does not make any sense. This whole damn world has no sense.

You go out into the hall and the man in gray leads you on again. You walk with him, not behind him, this time. To what end, you are now completely unsure.

#tommy shelby #dark tommy shelby #dark!tommy shelby #tommy shelby x reader #drabble #au #handmaid au #blessed are the meek #peaky blinders #series

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meieis · 2 months

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My note: Actually, it's a scenario that comes to everyone's mind, and here I was normally writing another Fic, but I abandoned it and started this one. Lute and more Lute♡ I use translate, so I may miss mistakes from time to time, I don't know exorcists angels have souls... But let's say they have

Synopsis: Lute have Vaggie's fate and is found by Charlie Morningstar's twin

Warning(?): Swear (words 'bitch' and 'fucking' were used) nothing

fallen angel (Lute x reader)

She had everything. she was the lieutenant of the exorcist army and also Adam’s right hand, but she lost it all with just a fucking 'mistake'

Actually, everything was fine for Lute at first. Lute was doing a normal 'exorcist' job, killing sinners or hellborns. And she had her sights set on killing a mother and a child, so she caught them in an alley, she killed the mother, but... The child escape, and seeing this, Vaggie appeared with a threatening facade and accused her of pardoning the child’s life. Vaggie attacked her from the back, like a disgusting bitch, and ripped out her exorcist wings and blah blah blah. Eventually Lute passed out and when she woke up she tried to pull herself to a 'safe' place, although where in the hell is safe? It's a mystery.

She heard someone approaching her, and felt that person looking at her from the shadows with a 'sinister' smile. you approached her "Don't come closer, sinner!" She said, looking angry, unable to defend herself but not going to die without a fight, she heard the sinister person in the shadows further start from him laughing, "Sinner?..." And laughed even more, finally approaching Lute, she knew this person. Charlie Morningstar's twin, the 'loved' or 'feared' heir of hell.

You put your hand on Lute's chin, "Hm... I can help you." You probably didn't recognize her, or you didn't care who she was, even if she knew you, it's normal for you not to recognize her, after all, she was always wearing her mask, she had wings and a halo... But there was none of them right now. "Does it look like I need help?" Lute said angrily and pushed your hand away "You need, don't try to look strong, if I leave you here right now... They might rape you, cannibals might think you're dead and try eat you, kill you, everyone will try to use you, things like that" you kept your smile and looked at Lute.

"If you give me your soul, I will protect you." You say but Lute chose not to trust you, after all, you were a hellborn, whom she at first thought was You are a sinner. You are Daughter/Son of Lucifer Morningstar. You didn't even give her reason to trust. "Why should I trust you? 'everyone will try to use you' what's different about you?" Lute heard you laughing at her words "What's the difference? I'm offering a contract and deal, I'll provide you with a home, I'll protect you, but your soul will be mine" Lute frowned and was about to say something when she was silenced by you. "Shh, shh, baby... You're a flower that doesn't know anything about this place, a little stupid, a little clueless, you try to look strong but-" (Remember Hazbin Hotel is a musical, so you start singing) "Please dont start sing, just say" Lute said looking fed up and you laughed "ok well, my little clueless flower... we have a deal?" Lute didn't trust you, but the deal is simple, neither person can break the deal. "Protect me and provide me with a home... In return, my soul is yours."

#lute x reader #hazbin hotel lute x reader #lute x fem!reader #hazbin hotel lute #lute hazbin hotel #lute x reader hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel

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rachetmath · 1 month

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Jaune's Last Man

(Hi sorry this has been my head and I completely forgot about this so let me end this with a kicker. A rap you may say. If you need a recap or you don’t know what this is about....he links here.;

Part 1: https://www.tumblr.com/rachetmath/681709097493659648/ilia-blake-i-want-to-come-with-you-blake-ilia?source=share

Part 2: https://www.tumblr.com/rachetmath/683991434179805184/can-we-please-get-a-sequel-to-the-post-about-jaune?source=share

Part 3: https://www.tumblr.com/rachetmath/688883250974916608/so-i-know-ow-you-said-you-dont-normally-do?source=share)

Jaune: Mercury.

Mercury: Vomit Boy. How’s it hanging?

Jaune: I’m doing fine.

Mercury: Really? I mean since you killed your friend. Your girlfriend dead. And Atlas. I would think you be in a site of depression.

Jaune: Yeah. Except I’m in state of rage.

Mercury; Oh.

Jaune: I mean I haven’t seen my family in years to where I can barely remember their faces. I watched thousands of innocent people die. I was betrayed by someone I wanted to call friend. All because of my stupidity.

Mercury: Wow finally admit it. You don’t know what your doing.

Jaune: Still don’t… but I’ll take my chances.

Mercury: So what are you going to do torture me.

Jaune: Haha no. Of course not. Ladies.

Neo and Ilia walks into the room. Neo before she took a seat on the table, she gives Jaune a kiss on cheeks while Ilia a has weapon to Mercury’s neck. Mercury was still shocked with Neo.

Jaune: Alright. Let us begin. I’m here to make a deal.

Mercury: A deal?

Jaune: You bet. I want you on my team.

Ruby: What?

Jaune: Yes.

Mercury: Why?

Jaune: We need someone like you on our side. Guys like you come in very short supply.

Mercury: That doesn’t give me much of a reason. Why should I give you allegiance?

Jaune: I’m willing to give something that can’t refuse.

Mercury: Please, your not even giving me a right to choose.

Jaune: *sigh* Ilia.

Ilia removes her weapon and sits down.

Jaune: Fine, I’ll play by rules. Look, I understand. Your father he was bad man. But brother he’s dead.

Mercury: I know.

Jaune: I know it was by own hands. I get it wasn’t easy but you fail to get-

Mercury: Is?

Jaune: That you can be better. So much clever. Do really want to stay in his shadow forever?

Mercury: Please. Who are you to judge me? If I recall correctly didn’t you cheat. You went to a school filled with talent. With nothing to show but empty promises and values. You talk a big game but you can’t measure up. Face it bud, your only here because of luck.

Jaune: …. ….

Mercury: Got nothing to say. Guess the fun is over. No more debates. I guess I’m done now prison await. Besides Salem offered me world on a plate what’s better than that?

Jaune: Okay, little man, so what’s your plan?

Mecury: What?

Jaune: Yeah, little man, what’s you plan?

Mercury: I mean-

Jaune: What’s your plan? Tell me, little man, what you gone do when you got the world in your hands? You get all money and get some respect. You make yourself sound like you really are a threat. Yes its true, your right about me. I did what it took to follow my dreams. But now look at me. I am all three. Money, Power and respect. A threat guaranteed. I lost many people but yet I still breath. Yet I still believe in what we can achieve.

Mercury: … … …. What are you saying to me?

Jaune: We’re nothing like them.

Mercury: What do you want from me?

Jaune: Show me your bravery. Leave it all BEHIND and make history.

Mercury: But I-

Jaune: You’re nothing like him.

Mercury: I’m-

Jaune: You can still be better.

Emerald: *burst in door* And if your not sure we can explore it together. We’ll have each other.

Jaune: And if you believe-

Mercury: Believe?

Jaune: In yourself.

Emerald: And me.

Jaune and Emerald: There’s nothing you can’t achieve.

Mercury: Really?

Jaune: Right.

Emerald: You can fly. Again. Sore the sky. Again.

Jaune: Away from sun. Together with us. We can make history. Forge our destiny. Our story will be legendary. So-

Jaune: *pulls his hand out* What do you say?

Mercury: Hmm. Well-

Jaune: Yes, you will paid.

Mercury: And?

Jaune: Yes, come man, what do you say?

Mercury: *shakes Jaune’s hand* Alright you got a deal compadre.

RWBY: Dang.

Oscar: They went play by play.

Nora: So Jaune? Tell us, what’s now the team’s name?

Jaune JMNI. What do you all think?

Mercury: I got say, it’s got nice ring to.

Ilia: I accept the team name. No mistake.

Neo: *agrees with smile*

Jaune: Guess we agree. But before we celebrate we have demonstrate, how useful we are, leave no trace to debate. So let’s start on our first case. What do you say?

Mercury, Ilia and Neo(with a sign): Bring it.

Jaune: Oh this will be great.

Nora: Can we stop rhyming.

#rwby #jaune arc #ruby rose #yang xiao long #weiss schnee #lie ren #nora valkyrie #blake belladonna #emerald sustrai #ilia amitola #rwby neopolitan #mercury black #team jmni #team nero #nero #jmni #oscar pines

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whencartoonsruletheworld · 1 year

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im sorry shadow's backstory is What

oh i LOVE explaining this to people so let me clarify: everything i am about to tell you is one hundred percent canon. everything. you can look it up on the wiki or playthroughs of sonic adventure 2 and shadow the hedgehog if you dont believe me.

shadow the hedgehog was created in a test tube in space we'll start there

he was created on a space colony by eggman's grandfather, dr gerald robotnik.

gerald was working with the government to make an "ultimate lifeform" in order to achieve immortality. his main motivation is to find a cure for his granddaughter maria, who has a rare chronic illness called "NIDS" which is. AIDS. it's just AIDS. anyway she doesn't have long to live unless he can figure out this ultimate lifeform thing

gerald tries to make this thing but it just makes a really big lizard that wants to kill things so he stashes it in the space-basement and hopes that won't cause problems later

in order to actually make the ultimate life form this time he makes a deal with.... a fucking demon alien hivemind leader from a creepy comet that circles the planet

if you have seen the shadow snapcube fandub, this is the devil from the bible. canon name is black doom

so gerald takes some of black doom's dna and uses it to make shadow the ultimate lifeform

yes this means shadow has two dads

gerald does figure out the demon alien is probably gonna betray him tho so he builds a giant fuck-off canon on the space colony in case they need to kill him

shadow is raised on the ark alongside maria as his sister-figure if not like literal sister. the two of them have never been off the space station and dream about seeing earth

unfortunately the military finds out that there's like suuuper deadly weapons on this ship and they're like "wtf we're the us military nobody can make deadly weapons but us" so they do what any sane person would do

they go on the space colony and massacre everyone

seriously. some people managed to escape through escape pods but like they just kill everyone. one survivor in shth clarifies that his entire family died that day

the military also shoots and kills maria in front of shadow. while she doesn't have a canon age in the games, the anime lists her as twelve

maria manages to send shadow off in an escape pod before dying and asks him to take care of the earth for her and give the people on there a chance to be happy because she's a fucking angel

the military finds shadow's escape pod tho oops

anyway gerald was taken into police custody and when he finds out maria is dead he literally SNAPS and decides that blowing up the planet sounds like a good idea

he figures he wont be able to do anything in his prison so he finds shadow and MANIPULATES HIS MEMORIES to make him think maria made him promise revenge, then tells him to use the cannon he built for the demons and use it to blow up the whole planet

the military then puts shadow in cryo and EXECUTES GERALD BY FIRING SQUAD ONSCREEN

shadow is then woken up by eggman after a 50 year timeskip

schenanigans happen and he ends up deciding not to take revenge and then he dies. but wait he didn't die he just fell to earth and lost all his memories so the demon alien dad manipulates him into revenge again. then shadow gets his memories back and kicks his dad's ass

and now he's just kinda hanging out

and we are going to see ALL OF THIS in a CHILDREN'S MOVIE december 20 2024

#mine #shadow the hedgehog

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darkbluekies · 1 year

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Which one of your ocs would match a clumsy easily distracted darling. Cause I trip too easily and I'm really distracted most of the times. My ex use to whistle to get my attention sometimes because I love petting animals or getting lost staring at something pretty

DR KRY AND JERRY OMG

Dr Kry will simply switch sides with you if you're about to walk into something and will keep an eye on you 24/7. He considers himself your caretaker. He is a quiet helper, never telling you that you should do something. He'll lead you while you do your thing, always hovering behind you like a shadow.

"Keep talking, precious, don't mind me. Why I moved you? You didn't see that you were about to walk into a streetlight. Don't worry, I'm here to help. Do you want to pet that dog? I dont think you should, it could have bacteria. You can wave at it though."

Jerry would have a great time with you. If she was in a good mood, she wouldn't help you and would laugh everytime you do something stupid, but if she's in a bad mood, she'll pull you away from stuff that could hurt you and make sure you follow her without getting lost.

She'll grab your hood and pull you back onto the street if you walk against a red light.

"Ever heard of a green light? You want to die, don't you? Giving me a damn heart attack every time I let you out. That car there could have killed you. Now hug my arm so you don't get far away from me again, you fucking child. If you don't want to hold me, I'll get a leash for you. Oh, trust me, I'd dare."

#yandere #yandere x reader #yandere drabbles #yandere x you #yandere imagines #yandere mafia #yandere oc x you #yandere stories #yandere talks #yandere female #yandere duo #yandere doctor #yandere headcanon #yandere scenarios

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ezziefae · 3 months

Text

Thoughts on Chap. 3 of The Prisoner's Throne (SPOILERS)

hello readers, forgive me for the typos, there are so many things about this chapter that had me screaming. Enjoy my thoughts!!!

“I want—” he begins.

“No,” she tells him. “By the power of Grimsen’s bridle, get on your knees and be silent.”

Wren has to be one of the scariest characters ever written by holly black.

Her mouth curves into a smile, but it isn’t a nice one. “By Grimsen, I command you to do exactly as I say from here forward. You will stay on your knees until I say otherwise.”

Oak should have left when he had the chance.

Nahhh! I knew since TSH that we were gonna see Wren use the bridle on Oak, but now that i'm READING THIS it's still INSANE that she's willingly using it to CONTROLL him fully, it makes me think of Jude and Cardan, and how Jude kind of sorta had control of Cardan, but only by Pledge. Jude also had a power to command Cardan whatever she wished him to do, but she never ordered him to do something like THIS. Wren seems to have no mercy on Oak. She could legit make him kill or hurt anyone, she could make him jump off a bridge or say anything. Kind of also reminds me of when Locke ordered the ghost to betray Jude and the court of shadows, and how the Ghost had no control over his actions, and how in TQON he asked Jude to kill him because he'd rather die than be controlled by anyone. Wren did not come to play. This is so scary!!!

He finds her fascinating. He’s always found her fascinating, but he is not foolish enough to tell her that. Especially not in this moment, when he is afraid of her.

Oak is literally being controlled and is bridled and these are his thoughts…he's so downbad that it could actually get him killed.

“I am already bridled,” he says, feeling a little frantic. “You don’t need to lock me away. I can’t harm you unless you let me. I am entirely in your power. And when I did escape, I came directly to your side. Let me kneel at your feet in the throne room and gaze up adoringly at you.”

THE LAST LINE!! IM DYINGGG!! THIS MAN NEEDS TO STOPPPPPP, OH OAKKKKK YOURE SOOOOO DOWNN BADDDDD FOR WREN

“I have to occupy myself somehow,” he says. “When I am between moments of gazing adoringly, of course.”

I have no words…Not Oak trying to use his charm on her, like dude, i dont think thats gonna work.

The door opens, and Fernwaif comes in, a single guard behind her. Oak recognizes him as Bran, who occasionally sat at Madoc’s dinner table when Oak was a child. He looks horrified at the sight of the prince on his knees, wearing the livery of a guard beneath a stolen cloak.

I absolutely LOVE that we’re getting past memories of Oak when he was a child. It also helps the readers feel nostalgic from reading the folk of the air series. When Jude, Taryn, Vivi, Oak, Madoc, and Oriana lived in peace.I hope we get so many of these moments…even though i have to say this paragraph is a little sad, how Oak recognized the guard as one of his fathers friends..

“You don’t know me as well as you think, Greenbriar heir,” she says. “I remember your stories, like the one about how you used a glamour against your mortal sister and made her strike herself. How would you like to feel as she felt?”

NOT HER USING THIS AGAINST HIM!!! Love how that moment keeps being brought up. (And i predict that Oak will apologize to Jude about it in this book)

“I’ll slap myself silly willingly, if you like,” he offers. “No need for a command.”

OAK STOPPP IM DEAD

“What if, instead, I force you onto your hands and knees to make a bench for me to sit upon?” Wren inquires lightly, but her eyes are alight with fury and something else, something darker.

Wren.... I don't think that sounds like a punishment to him sweetie…

“Crawl to me.” Her eyes shine, fever bright.

GUYS ITS THE LINE!! THE LINEEE!! SHE SAYS THE LINEEE HOLY SHI-

Again, Oak’s body moves without his permission. He finds himself writhing across the floor, his stomach against the carpet. He flushes with shame.

SHES SO WRONG FOR THAT. SHE'S HUMILIATING HIMM! Not even Jude did these thing to Cardan *sobs*

When he reaches her, he stares upward, rage in his eyes. He’s humiliated, and she’s barely begun. She was right when she said he didn’t understand what it would feel like. He hadn’t counted on the embarrassment, the fury at himself for not being able to resist the magic. He hadn’t counted on the fear of what she would do next.

This is actually very sad. Wren is treating him somewhat in a way that she had been treated. She's hurt, and I guess it's very understandable, I just wish she didn't have to inflict that pain on Oak.

Oak cuts his gaze toward Bran, who has remained stiff and still, as though afraid to draw Wren’s attention. The prince wonders how far she would go if he were not present.

Two things!! Number one I literally FORGOT the guard was still in the room and he had to WATCH oak crawl to her. Number two, That last line…..what kind of things would she has ordered Oak to do if the guard had not been in the room……(side eye)

Wren turns to him. “Perhaps I ought to have you sent to the Great Hall tomorrow and command that you endure ten strikes of an ice whip. Most barely get through five.”

Oh my god, she really is EVIL DUDE. I've never seen this kind of evil in a holly black book. Now I'm scared.

Oak looks directly into her eyes. “Why are you keeping me at all, Wren? Am I a hostage to be ransomed? A lover to be punished? A possession to be locked away?”

“That,” she says, bitterness in her voice, “is what I am trying to figure out myself.” She turns to the guards. “Take him back to his cell.”

OH IM VERY EXCITED TO SEE WHAT SHE'S PLANNING. Remember that Jude and Cardan are on their way to save Oak, if anything I believe Wren is somehow going to use Oak against elfhame. Maybe she’ll order him to hurt jude or cardan. THIS BOOK IS GOING TO END ME AGH I NEED IT NOWWW.

“Good night, Prince of Elfhame,” Wren says as he is led from the room. He manages a single glance back. Her gaze locks with his, and he can feel the frisson of something between them. Something that might well be terrible, but that he wants more of all the same.

I'm very curious to know how Oak is going to handle this mess. Like he's absolutely F*CKED. He's so down bad for Wren that he would do anything to stay by her side and protect her, YET he also wants to protect his family members who are on their way to save him and to kill wren. He cannot save BOTHHHH, meaning he will probably have to choose sides. Holly Black why are you torturing us!!!

MARCH 5TH HURYYY UPPP!

49 more days till this book comes out. stay strong.

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mysicklove-main · 1 year

Text

𝐌𝐈𝐒𝐒𝐈𝐎𝐍 "𝐒𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐇"

Pairing: Bestfriend! Denki Kaminari x Gn! Reader

Word Count: 3.2k

Warnings: Friends to Lovers, Claustrophobia? (if you get that from reading idk), swearing, teasing, suggestive comments, me trying (and failing) to make Denki funny, mentions of ex-crush

Summary: Denki gets the bright idea to try and steal your homeroom teacher's sleeping bag. One thing led to another and the two of you end up stuck in a closet, with the addition of a new boyfriend.

Being best friends with Denki Kaminari, was definitely...something. There was not one moment where he didn’t keep you off your toes. You loved him for that.

You also happened to be in love with the fool. It was easy to fall for that smile, that laughter. It all just drew you in. The two of you would be perfect for each other if he felt the same way. You try not to think about it.

Currently, Denki is in your dorm room. It was 12 am and you were asleep. Like he should be. “Pstt. Y/N wake up!” He whispers yells and you groan as he rips the blanket off of you. “C’mon, I have a really good idea!”

“Denki,” You whine and he grins. “It’s the middle of the night. Go to sleep,” You mumble before tearing the blanket from his hands and spreading it back over your body.

His smile drops. So, he does the next best thing to wake you up. He jumps on you. “Get off of me, you idiot!” You shriek and he covers your mouth with his hand. He holds up a finger to his mouth, shushing you. You roll your eyes in the darkness.

“You gotta be quiet! Don’t want the others getting the wrong idea about me and my bestie.” He teases, eyes raising mischievously. You push him off you and he whines. “Okay, I’ll stop. But c’mon I have a good prank idea!”

You raise your head at this. “Prank?” You question, trying to stop that smile that forms on your face. If there was one thing you and Denki were good at, it was pranking people.

“Yep! It’s the most perfect, most evil, most hilarious, most-”

“Denki. Get to the point.” You warn, knowing he will go on a ridiculously long rant if you don’t cut him off. Even if you did have feelings for the blonde, it was 12 am you were not up to deal with all his bullshit.

“Prank of all time. It will go down in UA history. People will remember us as, Y/N and Denki, the greatest pranksters of all time.” He sits on his knees in front of you, you see the shadow of his raised fist.

You throw your pillow at him, causing him to fall down on the bed. “Would you just tell me already?” You say, exasperated.

He grabs the pillow and throws it off his face, and then stands on top of the bed. You raise your eyebrows and look up at his shadow. “We are going to steal Mr. Aizawa’s sleeping bag.”

“I’m going back to sleep.”

“Hey! Wait! It’s a good idea, right? What will he do when he comes to class and sees that he can’t sleep?”

“Kill us.” You grab the pillow and rest your head back on it.

“He won’t. I’m too hot to die.”

“Yeah, but you are stupid enough to,” You respond with your eyes closed.

He sighs dramatically and sits back down, crossing his legs next to your bundled-up figure. “Anyways, back to the point. We are going to steal it. You may be asking yourself, “Oh my super hot and sexy best friend, how are we going to infiltrate the academy?”” His voice poorly mimics yours and you refrain from throwing another pillow at him. “To which I respond, “Dont worry my darling Y/N, I will be here to lead the way, using my quirk to turn off the alarm system, and allowing us to have enough time to go in, grab the sleeping bag, and run out all before the brink of dawn.”

You don’t respond. He lets out another plea, “C’mon Y/N, we will have plenty of time to sleep when we get named the “Greatest Pranksters of all Time”” He shakes your body and you groan.

“You sure we won’t get caught?”

“Positive! I will disable the security cameras.”

You pull the blankets down and sit up, staring at him in the darkness. “Well, y’know I can’t turn down a prank like that.”

He beams.

You both decided to wear all black. Sure, it didn’t really matter due to the security cameras being turned off, but Denki insisted.

Currently, you were standing in front of the gates of UA, waiting for Denki to arrive. It looks a lot more creepy at night, which you reluctantly take note of with a gulp.

Suddenly you feel a tap on your back and you almost scream instinctually when you see a black ski mask. The only thing that makes him recognizable was his bright yellow eyes.

You take a deep breath to calm yourself down and look over him again. His, very much unneeded, ski mask has black cat ears attached to it. “What are you wearing?” You whisper yell and point to the ridiculous ears.

He rubs them with his black leather gloves. “What, you don’t like it? It’s inspired by Catwoman.”

You pinch the bridge of your nose. “You know you are a real hero right?”

“So you have a problem with guys cosplaying female movie heroes, huh? How bigoted of you, Y/N.” He jokes, clutching at his heart like you genuinely wounded him.

You stare blankly at him, before turning back to the dorm building. “I’m going home.”

“Wait! Im just joking!” He reasons frantically, grabbing your arm to stop you from leaving. He pulls off his mask, exposing the rest of his face. “Is this better?” The blonde sighs and you nod. “Good. Okay, back to mission SMASH”

“Smash?”

“It stands for, Steal Mr. Aizawas sleeping house.”

You cock your head to the side. “It’s not a house though, it’s a bag.”

“SMASB doesn’t sound as good.”

“But that doesn’t–You know what. It doesn’t matter. Alright. Yeah. Mission SMASH.”

The two of you turn your focus back onto the entrance gate of UA. Denki grabs onto the monitor placed in front of the gate that locks and unlocks it. He takes a deep breath, before opening his eyes and activating his quirk.

He quickly pulls away when the device lights up a multitude of different colors before eventually powering off completely. He looks back at you with a grin, before swinging the door open.

You can’t help but smile mischievously back. Even with all his ridiculous antics, you were confident that he knew what he was doing.

The two walk up to the main entrance to the door and just like before he disables the alarm and the lock. You open up the door to your pitch-black school and gulp. It was strange seeing it like this. But the two of you were heroes, you were trained to be in uncomfortable situations, so the two of you step inside.

“‘Im going into the back room to disable the security guards. Wait for my signal.” He whispers to you, holding his hand out to signal you to stay put.

“What’s the signal?”

“A yellow canary’s mating call.”

You blink. “How the fuck am I supposed to know what that is?”

“It kinda sounds like an American Goldfinches mating call.”

You pause and stare at him for some time. He waits, meeting your gaze. “Why am I your friend again?” You murmur, before pushing him away toward the back room. He grins, shooting you finger guns, before scampering through the door.

You stand there for a minute awkwardly. “Coo-Coo!” You raise your eyebrows and wait, just to mess with him. “Coo-Coo!” You don’t move. “COO-COO” He basically screams and you fall over into a silent laugh, loving how ridiculous he sounds. “Agent L/N do you copy?” He whispers into his hands, pretending it is a walkie-talkie.

You indulge him like you always do. “Yes, I do, agent dumbass.”

“Good. Follow me!” He whisper yells once again, before grabbing your hand and leading you up the stairs toward your home room.

When you two arrive at your classroom you pause.

Denki doesn’t, in fact, he seems way too excited to look through Mr. Aizawa’s stuff. His eyes widen when he sees a hero magazine stuffed into one of your teacher’s drawers. He flips through the pages and stops when he lands on Lady Midnight, who is looking especially suggestive in it. He wiggles his eyebrows at you, that familiar perverted grin on his face. You rip it out of his hands and push it back into the drawer before he could complain.

You open the last drawer and your eyes widen. There it was. Mr. Aizawa’s yellow sleeping bag. You pull it up for the blonde to see. “Bingo.” He grins at you, holding up a hand for a high five. You slap his palm against his with a triumphant smile.

Suddenly you hear a loud booming voice coming from just down the hall. “Hello? Is somebody there?” The two of you freeze, staring at each other, eyes wide in alarm. “I know somebody is around here somewhere. Damn, those kids.” The stranger mutters and the two of you begin to panic.

“We are fucked!” He whispers to you and you nod your head in agreement. You hear the footsteps begin to come closer to you.

That’s when you notice the closet at the end of the classroom. It was large enough to fit two people easily. You grab his hand and quickly stumble over the closet, pushing him in first. You grab the handle and shut the door.

It’s pitch black. You hear the footsteps walk into the room and Denki uses one hand to cover your mouth and the other to cover his. Your heartbeat picks up. “Damn those kids. Trying to steal from Eraserhead. What a joke,” The man’s gruff voice mutters and you gulp.

You hear the footsteps move and you close your eyes. “Whatever. They must be gone by now. Im going home.” The man says to himself, unaware the two of you are listening. You hear him walk out of the room and Denki removes his hand from your mouth. You sigh in relief once he is out of hearing distance.

“Jeez, that was close. Mission SMASH could have been a bust. Pun intended.” He says quietly and you laugh softly, adrenaline still pulsing through you. He manages to make ever the most intense situations funny. You liked that about him.

“Yeah, that could have been really bad. C’mon lets get out of here,” You reply and Denki nods. You can only barely see his figure.

He pulls the handle and pushes forward. It doesn’t budge. He shakes it again and pushes harder. It doesn’t budge. He begins to frantically shake it and forces all his strength to push forward. Other than the whine of the metal, it doesn’t budge. “Fuck.” He murmurs and your eyes widen.

“Oh god. Don’t tell me,” You gasp and he slowly nods.

“Yep. Might as well get comfortable. We’re stuck.”

“I’m going to murder you.”

30 minutes have gone by and nothing has worked. So now, the both of you sit on the ground, your backs pressed against the wall with your legs intertwined. You are grateful that it is a big closest because if it were any smaller you would be extremely claustrophobic. At least you have room to move your legs and arms.

The two of you have been chatting for the most part, about nothing too important. You have to wait until morning for when your classmates can get you out. “Do you remember the time I tried doing a backflip from the roof to the pool?”

“Yes! You made me record it! I thought you were going to die, you idiot! Scared the absolute shit out of me.” You grin, thinking back on it now, but at the moment, he did look way too high up. Granted, he did end up with bruises from the water from the jump so you weren’t too far off.

“That was crazy, but fun. What would I have done without my adorable best friend to cheer me on?” You try not to blush at his light remark.

You change the subject. “Yeah. Hmm, what else can we talk about.” You tap your chin and furrow your eyebrows, trying to think back

“You wanna hear about how I used to have a crush on Jirou?”

No, you didn’t. But you weren’t going to make your crush obvious. “Sure, Denki.”

“It was back in our first year, when you and I were nothing but classmates. Back when I used to flirt with every girl I saw.”

“You still do that.”

“Shut it. I’m getting better! I don’t flirt with every girl now.” You roll your eyes but laugh. He was right. “Anyways, something about her just kinda stood out to me you know?”

“Yeah, I know exactly what you are talking about.” He eyes you in the darkness, skeptical of something, but doesn’t say anything.

“Had that laugh that drew me in. The smile lighted up the room. And when she played that guitar, the look of pure joy on her face, just really did something to me.” You bury yourself into your knees. You hate this. “But I don’t know. We wouldn’t have worked. She doesn’t deal with my antics as well as you do. She wouldn’t try sneaking into the school with me in the middle of the night like you did. I don’t think anyone would. ”

You smile at this, cheeks now warm, you’re glad he can’t see you. You feel giddy at the remark, but try to hold it in to match your usual teasing persona. ��Can’t keep saying that, you’ll never get a girlfriend.”

He goes silent. It stays silent for a couple of long seconds and you fear you have said something that made him upset and that was hard to do. “Denki?”

A small soft voice in the darkness calls out, “Y/N, do you like me?”

Your eyes widen and your world comes crashing down. He knew. For god’s sake, he knew. You began to panic. “W-What, like you? You-You’re being ridiculous! How could I like an idiot like you?”

His tone changes, quiet, but sharper. “Is the thought of liking me so unreasonable?”

You are thrown off guard. You don’t know what to say to make this whole thing right. “No! Of course not. It’s definitely reasonable. It’s just–We are best friends, you know? You totally wouldn’t be into me like that.”

He goes silent again and you hear him grip his black plants. “I like you.”

“What?”

“I like you, Y/N. Y’know like romantically?”

You shake your head, tears begin to line your eyes. You have been wanting to hear that line for two years now. “Stop it. It’s not funny anymore. I can deal with your teasing flirting, but you are going too far, Kaminari.”

“I’m not joking. I like you.” He pauses, thinking. “I like your smile. I like your laugh. I like the way you tease me.” His voice begins to get louder. “I like it when you roll your eyes at me. I like it when you pull pranks with me. I like it when you don’t laugh or make fun of me when I fail a test. I like it when–god I don’t know, I just like you okay?” The closet was beginning to warm up. The both of you were red in the face, and neither of you could see the other.

It’s your turn to go silent as you begin to process everything.

The silence begins to make the blonde panic. “I’m sorry if I made you uncomfortable and I didn’t want to do this in you know–a closet, on a ridiculous mission called SMASH. It doesn’t even make sense! Why the hell did I choose such a stupid name.” He stops his nervous ramblings when he hears the words he desperately craves.

“I like you too.”

He looks up, hopeful.“Really?”

You gulp and try to maintain your blush.“Yeah. For a while now. I was uh, too scared to say anything.”

“What? For real? We could have been dating for so long if you did!

The mood switches, back to the lighter one you guys had earlier. “Oh like you are one to talk. Why didn’t you confess!”

“Because I thought you would reject me!”

“Well, I thought you would reject me!”

The two of you break out into laughter like you usually do. After some time it begins to die down and the two of you try to stare at one another in the darkness. You only manage to see his shadow, but you slowly lean in. He does the same. “Wait,” Denki says and you frown. Did he not want to kiss you?

Suddenly his hands on are your face. “What are you doing.”

“Trying to find your lips. Already messed up the confession, can’t mess up our first kiss too.” At his words, you quickly lean forward and press your lips to his, not giving a damn if you accidentally peck him on the cheek. You don’t miss.

Denki is startled, but leans into the kiss immediately. He grabs your face into his hands and presses his body closer to yours, which was not hard to do considering the little space.

When you pull away, you wish desperately you could see his face. You hope that he was just as flustered and happy as you were. “Was even better than in the dreams,” He mumbles and you laugh.

“Pervert! Having dreams of me already?”

“Oh, like you weren’t writing in your little journal about how, “I developed a schoolgirl crush on my best friend!” He shoots and your eyes widen.

“How did you know that?” You shriek and he begins to laugh.

“I didn’t! I was messing with you. Oh my god you’re adorable, and I thought I was lovesick! At least I can’t control my dreams.”

You use your hands to cover your face in embarrassment. “I hate you.”

He hums dramatically, tapping his chin in the darkness. “Strange. I swear I just heard you confessing your undying love to me. Maybe that was my other best friend.”

“Mineta?” You tease and he shoots you a glare in the darkness.

“How many times have I told you, I stopped being his friend after our first year! You’re never going to let it go!” He whines and you laugh.

You run your finger through his hair. “Maybe I’ll forgive you if you ask me out.”

You barely got to finish the second your response before he was stumbling out, “Y/N do you want to date me?”

“Hmm no, I don’t think so.”

“What?” He yells in pure shock and you quickly press your lips to his. This time you did accidentally land on the side of his mouth, but it was easy to fix.

“I’m messing with you. Of course, I’ll date you, Denki.” You wish you could see the smile that lights up the blonde’s face.

A couple of hours later, your classmates found you and Denki passed out and curled up against one another still in the small metal closet. Nobody was surprised.

#denki kaminari #denki kaminari x reader #fluff #mha fluff #x reader #mha x reader #denki kaminari fluff #denki x reader #denki imagine #denki kaminari x you #kaminari denki #mha fanfiction #kaminari x y/n #kaminari fluff

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safely-in-vhagars-belly · 6 months

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Vhagar's diary (The Point of view of a dragon) ((Slight spoof)

This fanfic has been dedicated to my friends, who told me to start writing and to kinda dont give a f what people think about it, tbf people will always moan.

The majestic dragon Vhagar shares her story, in a exclusive interview/tell all biography. What does she remember and what can she tell us about the past? What do we know? Vhagar tells all is part of a mini series featuring three parts of Vhagars life leading up to house of the dragon, with her ...unique thoughts and perspective!

I have always been a simple, elegant and well-educated dragon. I was born at Dragon Stone, which would become the ancestral seat of the Targaryens. The Targaryen family has plagued me for as long as I’ve been alive. From the very moment I hatched, I was wary and paranoid of those white-haired people. It was very clear to me, as with any other sane soul, that there was something incredibly wrong with them. So, naturally: I felt right at home in their presence!

I could hear the swords clash whenever Aegon, Visenya and Rhaenys were around. I could smell the sweet smell of blood whenever they were near and feel the fire burn in their veins, yes all that is true. But I must admit that I never felt more comfortable as I did at Dragonstone. It is perhaps a bit childish, but I hatched there. It shall always be my home.

What did I think of the three conquerors personally? Aegon smelled funny. He smelled like cattle and he had a big dragon called Balerion. Aegon was a true Targaryen in name, and birthright, and shared this wonderful bloodthirsty mind that befitted a Targaryen. He also gave me treats whenever Visenya would look away. Aegon married both Rhaenys and Visenya, for some reason I as a dragon quite don’t understand. But he preferred Rhaenys over Visenya, unfortunately.

It was difficult for me when he died, I’ll admit it. I wish I had killed him for the pain he inflicted on Visenya. That will forever be my greatest regret, dear reader. I lit his funeral pyre, but I must admit it is no fun lighting a corpse that has been killed by a better, clever and stronger someone before you.

Rhaenys was a sweet boring woman and therefore never interested me, personally. But as Visenya’s first soldier, loyal servant and beloved pet I had to see and watch how Aegon treated Rhaenys and Visenya and let me tell you it was so difficult to not breathe fire at each of them whenever i saw them together.

Visenya. Visenya was the cleverest sweetest most generous and greatest woman that ever lived and shall ever live, mark my words and count my scales! From the moment we bonded, I knew, that woman was a special soul, like me. I could tell, because these are my words, so you have to either buy them, or leave it.

I remember after she and I bonded; she did a victory ride, with me, soaring through the skies. I never had been bonded before, and no rider’s bond would be as strong as the one I shared with her. I always suspected that Visenya and I were part of the same soul, brought together by fate. We were meant to die together, too.

Aegon, the pervert, was watching us, and now that she did have a dragon, he was interested in marrying his other sister as well. Visenya was happy. I think I know why. She was finally noticed. She was finally good enough.

From the moment I hatched, I always have been in Balerion’s shadow. Quite literally. Have you seen the size of that beast? But sadly, it is true, I swear on my beautiful horns. The Black dread, they called him. He inspired genuine fear, true terror in ways I could only dream of. You must know, that I was quite the pathetic baby lizard at that time, but I grew and I grew harder out of pure spite, jealousy, and determination.

It was a sight to behold, the conquest. So many burning things, so many fleeing things! Visenya and I flew to Stokeworth. I never understood humans very well, but according to Visenya StokeWorth was not first in line when the gods handed out brains. They shot bolts at us until I turned the castle roofs to crisp and ash.

At some point, they crowned Aegon too, I can’t recall when it happened, as I don’t really care about Aegon, much as you can probably tell. I do recall Visenya feeding me a nice big cowhead as a thank you for my loyal servitude. I never had any friends, but she comes close to what I would consider a friend if you must know.

Castles fell at our feet, men begged us for mercy, they screamed prayers at their gods as I and the other dragons soared above the skies of Westeros, teaching it the meaning of ‘Fire and Blood’. It felt great to be a part of something bigger than me, something that I would know would last centuries. Something that I would know would last long after I had left behind this, earthy crispy shell of a ball.

It was great. But like all great things, this came too an end.

The Dornish people killed Rhaenys and the dragon Meraxes in Dorne. Aegon never was the same after their deaths, neither was Visenya. There was this hole left in her soul that no dead body could fill. We went on a beautiful trip to Dorne, avenging the fallen Queen and her dragon. I did not care much for revenge; I was just happy to be invited and to taste Dornish.

Aegon died in 37 AC, and I was invited to light his funeral pyre. I did so with great pride and effort, happy to see the flames lick away the remains of that man. Visenya had again lost something very dear to her, and she remained close to me. The eldest of the three, yet the last alive.

In 41 AC, I saw my birthplace again. Visenya had taken me back to Dragonstone, when Aenys, one of the sons Aegon had fathered, named another Aegon, the prince of Dragonstone, which made him the heir of the Targaryen kingdom we just conquered. I pray to their ‘gods’ whatever these might be, that this is the final man named Aegon in the Targaryen dynasty, as this dragon already finds this incredibly confusing. I understand my lady was very upset. We passed the moon, and it turned red, according to witnesses. Well, those had a little bit too drink, I think. I did not see such a thing.

It fell from the skies and shattered. I did see that. But what they claim? No that’s a lie, my apologies.

The rest of the tale that follows is the tale of the maesters, of corrupt men writing on powerful women. I would not speak ill of the dead, though I do so with much pleasure, but my Visenya was no evil woman. She was gentle with me, she was good and kind. She had given dozens of reasons to burn her sister and brother alive, jealousy being the main one. I must admit, perhaps time erased all the horrible things Visenya did, and only made her sweet in my memory. I do not see Visenya as some beacon of goodness. I see her as any dragon should see their riders: Once upon a time, I was confronted by a girl who stared into my eyes, tears running down her face, begging for a chance to become a Queen. And I gave it to her.

As a dragon, it is hard for me to remember all this stuff. I did not become attached to much humans in my lifetime. Most I ate. But Visenya was unique for I felt we had a connection. A deep connection that threw us together and bound us.

It was terrifying watching Visenya visit me, every time a little thinner, and a little thinner. I once shared my cow with her, but she did not like the meat, I think. Visenya was declared dead in the year 44 AC, but she died much earlier, I tell you. I watched her die, multiple times a day, multiple times a year, until I finally felt this, horrible emptiness. I wept and screamed, breathed fire until I had blackened the walls of dragonstone, but none of it mattered. I knew she was gone. Nothing could bring her back. I felt alone, truth be told.

At that moment, all I wanted was to join her. We should have died together, fighting as warriors. They call my lovely lady a Kinslayer, perhaps a Kingslayer and a murderer and an unfaithful witch. Well, let them, I say. My lady remains one of the most iconic queens of the Targaryen dynasty, and I shall forever be proud she was my first rider.

She was amazing.

Not as amazing as me, but be honest: Who even can be?!

Vhagar's diary ends here. A part two might be in the works, I love vhagar very much and i like imagining her life but clearly she forgets/misremembers things and its so fun to write something else for a change.

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