#Disgust's face is priceless and impressed by Fear

[emotionaldashtoons]

This is my version of the Spy AU of Inside Out I made. I was inspired to make this due to @re-colligere, who actually has a spy au. Which means it made me inspired to make my own too. Took me a day in a half to get going on what I have usually done to create and draw.

Fear is Agent Flint, and Disgust is Agent Daphne. They are both forced to work with each other because both are polar-opposites, Flint is cowardly and smart, and Daphne is tough, brave, and takes so much risks without nonsense. And both will get along and love each other until they're done saving the world from world domination created by Anger as Dr. Ira August with his diabolical thief wife, Joy as Joyce, who happens to be old spy friends with Daphne. Until she betrayed her for Ira. And also, Joyce evily likes the awkwardness of Flint because that heroic nerd won't work on her since he's with Daphne. Joyce would give a surprise kiss onto Flint, then punch him, and takes what she needs. lol xd

Plus! The big pink lady I drew is actually now my oc for Inside Out named Charlotte, a.k.a. Charisma. And The gray man in black and white is another one of my oc named Donovan, a.k.a. Doubt. I hope you really like them!

This is for you, @re-colligere @tokibuns @abbi-sun

[xtrafluffyteddy]

The boss

Body guard! Ghost x Mafia boss! Fem! reader

A little self indulgent buttttt

Tw: violence, guns, alcohol, blood, sexism (quickly resolved)

Your name was feared around town, no one really knew what you looked like but they heard fearsome tales of a mafia boss who left people who wronged them so busted and broken that even dental records couldn’t tell you who they were before they crossed you, as well as the mafia bosses guard dog who would rip people to shreds just for starting rumors, and you loved it that way it made you feel powerful, untouchable.

“Love” Simon says as he strides into your room holding a new file and your favorite tea “new client comin in today he’ll be here in 20” he leans down to give you a soft kiss through his mask that he kept on during business hours, his face was only for your viewing pleasure no one else’s. “Mmm that you my darling stay with me won’t you?” You look up at him grinning “wouldn’t dream of leavin your side” he grunts.

The man, your client, came in 20 minutes late already getting himself on your shit list, “hey baby where’s the boss I gotta talk to him” the man says as he makes himself comfortable on your pristine black leather couch putting his disgusting feet up on your glass table “and uh get me a whiskey while your at it” you couldn’t help but grit your teeth catching Simon who gave you a look that screamed ‘let me kill this motherfucker’ with a quick wave of your hand you get up putting on a sickly sweet smile “of course sir anything else I can get for you sir”, Simon fought back the urge to tear this man apart for disrespecting you.

When you came back into the room you hand the man the shittiest whiskey you had in house after spitting in it when he wasn’t looking “thanks doll face” he said before slapping your ass as you walked back to Simon causing you to grit your teeth again. “Let me kill ‘em love” Simon whispers in your ear as he glares at the man “not yet darlin but soon” you turn back to the man with a fake smile “can you hurry it up bitch I got more important things to do” the man snarled getting fed up with how long it’s taking “of course of course” you sit down crossing one leg over the other picking up his file.

Reading over his file you were less that impressed a couple of petty crimes and a few drug runs nothing special in your eyes “hey big guy call your fucking boss already since this broad apparently doesn’t know how to fucking listen” your eye twitches as the man puts his cigarette out on your couch. Simon gives you a look and you nod grinning as he picks up his phone and presses call on your number. The look on the man’s face was priceless as your phone rang you relished in the way the color drained from his face and he immediately sat up straight “I-I-I-I” he stuttered “you- you- you- you what” you snarled “didn’t mean to disrespect me? Didn’t mean to come into my office make a mess of my shit? Oh sweetheart we’re way past piss poor apologies” he began shaking his head quickly getting up to come towards you only to be stopped by Simon who puts his hands on the man’s chest and pushed him back down onto the couch “sit down.” Simon growls before looking back at you “what do ya want me to do to him ma’am” you suck your teeth before sighing “maybe I’ll feed you to my dogs, orrrr maybe I’ll cut out your tongue for calling me a bitch, or I’ll let Ghost torture you nice and slow and send pieces of you back to the shit hole you crawled out of” you hum like your thinking “I think I’ll leave that a surprise wouldn’t wanna ruin the fun would we”

The mans body was found 5 blocks from your hideout, the police couldn’t believe the amount of damage that was inflicted. He was missing his eyes, his fingernails, his teeth seemed to have been pulled out one by one and shoved down his throat, and his tongue cut out and found right next to him with the word bitch carved into it.

“Si” you sigh stretching as you look over at the man who was washing the blood off his hands “yes my love” he replies turning his full attention towards you “I’m thinking Chinese tonight? Or maybe Italian” to others your lack of remorse for the carnage you left was terrifying, sickening even, but to Simon he couldn’t help but stare at you heart racing as he fell more in love with you.

[antifictionsfiction]

Worth the Free Admission - Part 1/6

Part 2 / Part 3 / Part 4 / Part 5 / AO3

Fandom: Children’s Theater Critic with Alfred Molina (a comedy skit, go watch it if you haven't already, it's priceless)

Pairing: Arthur H. Cartwright (children’s theatre critic) x gender neutral reader

Rating: T

Genre: comedy, fluff (romantic), psychological (kind of)

Warnings/tags: age difference, insecurity, mutual pining, mildly suggestive

Summary: The play you had rehearsed with your young students was supposed to be fun and easy. Getting the attention of a feared critic was far from your intention. Turns out one of you wasn’t ready for serious critique, the other for a serious relationship.

Reader character specifics: reader’s implied to be shorter/smaller than the critic, and significantly younger (in their late 20s)

POV: 2nd person

Chapter word count: 3576

A/N: A HUGE thank you to @scorsesedepalmafan for support, brainstorming, helping me figure out some details and letting me use the top-notch gif he created! ❤ And to my dear @castanierprosper for always being so supportive 😊

You watched from behind the curtain, dreading what was about to come next. So far the kids had been performing without any serious mishaps, or rather, the play was still going. You weren’t delusional about the artistic qualities of the little play you had written for your very first children’s drama class. Not because you didn’t have faith in the kids’ acting chops, but simply because they were far too young to remember more than a few lines of dialogue or a few basic instructions on how to move and where to stand.

You hadn’t had to interfere yet, at least not in a significant way – nothing that would disrupt the continuity of the play. A few whispered lines here and gentle nudges there were all it took for the tiny actors to do more or less what you had practiced with them over and over again.

But now the time had come for the most hyperactive, unfocused little beast of the ensemble to come on stage as the Tiger, the main antagonist. And boy, you were waiting for that moment with anxious eyes hypnotizing the other side of the stage. The spazzy six-year-old, Ollie, had managed to miss his cue every single time during rehearsals. You cursed yourself for letting him enter the stage from the other side, where you couldn’t help him come out at the right moment. The small stage at the school auditorium didn’t really have any backstage area, making it impossible to get to the other side if you didn’t want to run straight across the stage.

Erin, the gifted girl playing the fairy – your personal favorite, not that you let her or any of the other kids know – had just delivered one of the more difficult lines of the play perfectly: “You didn’t listen and now the beast will come. What will happen to us?” As proud as you were of her, you were also very aware this was the Tiger’s cue. And sure enough, he was nowhere to be seen. You waited for a few seconds before you noticed a sign of confusion in the other players’ faces, and you knew you had to step in.

“The beast is coming! It’s a tiger!” you screamed from behind the curtain. “A tiger!” you repeated just to be sure, enunciating every syllable with precision that sounded almost dumb, to be frank. It did the job, however, as Ollie dressed in a fluffy tiger onesie finally jumped on stage with an impressive roar. The audience responded with a roar of their own, laughing at your intervention as well at the little tiger’s sudden appearance.

As the laughter was dying down, you heard a loud, obnoxious scoff. You leaned forward a bit to take a peak at the rows, about halfway filled with parents, grandparents, siblings and friends, to locate the source of such unasked-for negativity. Your guess was a bored teenage brother or maybe a particularly snobby grandfather. Your gaze was travelling from one smiling face to the next, until it stopped on a half-disgusted, half-distressed expression on a man you would have never expected to see in person. Not during your first year as a drama teacher at least. The unforgettable face currently contorted with intense negative emotions belonged to the infamous children’s theatre critic, Arthur H. Cartwright.

What the hell was he doing there? The school you worked at was a small one, nothing prestigious, the drama club had been founded by you less than six months ago and today’s performance had been advertised by exactly three badly-drawn posters made by the kids themselves, with a little help from you. It just didn’t make sense for Cartwright to sniff out your production and show up at a random school in Upstate New York, when dozens of much more desirable children’s shows were surely happening all around the States at the same time.

You spent the rest of the play biting your fingernails, metaphorically and sometimes quite literally. The thought of Cartwright’s horrified expression never leaving your mind, you were lucky to even pay attention to what the kids were doing. The performance wasn’t good, you were self-aware enough to admit that to yourself. But who in their right mind would expect it to be? Take a group of ten five to seven-year-olds and make them carry a whole play on their shoulders? Most of them weren’t even old enough to tie their own shoelaces properly, for God’s sake! The feared man couldn’t just come and force his critique on you or the kids, you were sure. You couldn’t stop him from publishing whatever verbal diarrhoea he felt the compulsion to spit out after the performance. You sure as hell could prevent him from ruining the kids’ self-esteem by giving them one of the entitled lectures he was so revered for, though.

When the majority of the audience erupted into a cheerful applause and you joined your little ensemble onstage, you kept up a wide, proud smile both for the kids and their parents. However, your eyes kept darting back to where Cartwright was sitting, slumping in his seat like he was embarrassed to be present in the same room as the rest of you. Well, nobody was forcing him to stay, that was for damn sure. Even buried in his chair, he looked ready to tear everyone taking their final bow apart, and you smiled even brighter, looking straight at him. He clearly wasn’t expecting such reaction to his obvious displeasure from you, his brows arching in confusion for a second. You would swear you even saw the corners of his lips twitch, almost turning up before shooting back down into an ugly grimace.

Once the applause was replaced by excited chatter of the families, you hurried to draw the curtains to give the children some privacy and, more importantly, let the critic know you weren’t eagerly awaiting his enlightening comments. To your dismay, the man couldn’t just take a hint. As you were about to close the remaining gap in the curtains, you saw him climb up on the stage and carry himself over to you in long, confident steps.

“You must be the teacher and the director,” he said without as much as a hello. You were still clutching both curtains in your hands, blocking the narrow gap with your body. You had to tilt your head up uncomfortably to look Cartwright in the eyes, his physique was as imposing as his reputation. You hated how puny his large frame made you feel. You straightened your back as much as you could, never breaking eye contact with him to compensate for his unfair physical advantage.

“And the writer. What can I do for you, Mr. Cartwright?” you asked with a pleasant smile, as though you hadn’t just spent the last thirty minutes hoping you would never have to speak to him. He gave you a smug little smile back at your acknowledgment of his name.

“I would like to have a word with the actors, naturally. And even you, should you care to know what you did wrong.” The nonchalance with which he spoke was making it increasingly hard for you to keep up your friendly façade.

“That’s very generous of you, but no, thank you. What the children need right now is to grab a mug of hot chocolate and have some fun. You saw how young they are, and this was their first performance.” You doubted your reasoning would deter him from doing his so-called job, but even futile effort seemed better to you than just letting him unfurl his whole “big bad critic” charade as he pleased. His thick, pronounced eyebrows shot high above the rims of his glasses and his large hands grasped your shoulders for a second, catching you off guard.

“Hot chocolate? Are you out of your mind? The actors require professional evaluation. Immediately,” he said, absurd urgency evident in his voice and in his almost manic eyes, magnified by the thick lenses of his glasses. He took a determined step forward, making you clear the way, against your better judgment.

“Kids! They’re just kids, Mr. Cartwright.” You tried and failed to reach for his arm as he strode to where the kids were either rolling around on the floor in their costumes or running and pestering one another. Their joy from a challenging job well-done was evident, but it wasn’t destined to last.

“Excuse me, what is this-“ Cartwright stopped, gesturing all over the place as though he was offended by the mere sight of kids just being kids, “this anarchy?”

The kids slowed down, peering up at the man they had never seen before in their short lives. Ollie called out your name and the whole group joined him, asking who the rude guy was and why he was there instead of you, all in a high-pitched chorus of whines and giggles. You took a breath so deep it almost made your lungs burst as you struggled to find a suitable explanation for the unexpected presence of an angry, bald old man.

“Calm down now! This is Mr. Cartwright, he knows a lot about theatre and fairy tales and he’s going to give you advice on how to act. He’s something like a teacher, too,” you gave them an encouraging smile, feeling like a traitor for keeping the worst from those poor sweethearts. Cartwright turned to you in disbelief before giving the kids his attention again.

“That is a gross misinterpretation, not to mention an underestimation, of the complex art of critique,” he said, or rather declared. You barely stifled a sudden laugh at the sheer absurdity of the situation. You could only hope the kids wouldn’t understand anything he was about to overwhelm their brains with.

“No wonder a troupe where neither the actors nor the director seem to take the craft of theatre seriously would produce such an underwhelming performance,” he flashed another fierce look your way. Good, let him take it out on me and leave the kids alone, you thought.

“I have rarely seen a waste of potential this severe,” he went on as the kids gaped at him, too confused to even fool around or whisper among themselves, “A promising script and inventive stage design, buried underneath a muddy layer of hectic stage directions, childish humour and atrociously inconsistent acting. Can any of you imagine an O’Neill play where half of the actors are doing Beckett? I didn’t think so.”

A tiny hand shot up, and the enthusiastic girl, Lexi, didn’t wait for a permission to speak: “Mister, I have a hamster, his name is Neil!”

“Excuse me? Are you drawing a comparison between Eugene O’Neill and a… rodent?” the tension in Cartwright’s voice extended to his posture, his shoulders tensing up.

“Mr. Cartwright, Lexi’s five. She’s just learning to read,” you chimed in, though you knew at this point your input would have zero impact on him and his ridiculous, snobbish opinions.

“Then the blame is on you for not educating them properly,” he said, stern and still as serious as ever, “But even the best of teachers cannot save an utter lack of talent and discipline.” You watched in dismay as his glare fell on Ollie. Of course he would choose that poor kid as the target of his critique, you wondered why you hadn’t anticipated that. Now you could only hope Ollie was strong enough not to let what he was about to hear influence his sense of self for the rest of his life.

“You, young man, dressed in what appears to be your pajamas, delivered a performance as lazy and shapeless as your ‘costume’. Watching your slack attempts at intimidation, I shivered, not in fear but in embarrassment. With this attitude and your obvious disregard of your colleagues’ hard work, you will never contribute to a performance worth watching.”

Ollie, who usually had a wide smile on his face and a joke ready to tell, was staring at his orange and black tiger feet, blinking rapidly. He wasn’t crying, but it was obvious he felt the weight of Cartwright’s words, despite not fully understanding most of them. He mumbled your name along with a faint “I’m sorry”, and that served as the final impulse for you to act. Yes, Ollie was a difficult kid to coax into focusing, but you couldn’t complain about his warm-hearted nature and natural comedic talent. You often found him sharing his snacks with his classmates and entertaining them with jokes and impressions. If the five months you had had the chance to observe him were anything to go by, you would swear all he needed was to grow up a little bit and get a steady, patient guidance, and he could very well turn out to be an excellent artist in the future.

“Mr. Cartwright?” you called out to the critic, who appeared to be done with his review. You made sure to maintain a pleasant tone, as you were about to kill him with kindness rather than use his own method on him. You kept an eye on Ollie who was still looking quite bewildered – you would comfort him as soon as possible, but first you needed to have a good heart-to-heart with Cartwright.

“Yes?” he walked back to you, dismissing the kids with a firm nod. His energy had transformed somewhat, he caught on to your friendly tone and failed to register the tension underneath. To him, he had done his job as usual and the consequences didn’t concern him anymore. For the first time he smiled at you.

“I would like to have a word with you in private, is that okay?” you asked and he agreed immediately, still unsuspecting of your intentions. You let the kids run to their parents and excused yourself for a moment, noting that some of the parents clearly recognized Cartwright as well, based on their stunned stares at the man by your side. You led him into the office you shared with a couple colleagues. It was empty now, as you had chosen Saturday for the performance.

You gestured towards the most comfortable padded chair in the room for Cartwright to sit on.

“Coffee?” you offered. Cartwright sunk deep into the chair and watched as you poured yourself a cup from your favourite pot.

“Yes- actually, do you happen to have some tea?” he stammered and your eyebrows arched in amusement. What was he playing at again?

“I might. You’re not a fan of coffee then?” He shifted in his seat nervously, and now you really had to hold in laughter. He had to be the oddest man you had ever met, and you couldn’t wait to probe him further.

“No, well yes. I like coffee very much, I just thought-“

“I know you’re British, Mr. Cartwright, but it’s completely alright if you have coffee with me. Milk? Sugar?” you smiled as if you were having an ordinary conversation with an ordinary man. Against all odds, his cheeks turned muted pink as he cleared his throat.

“Both. Please,” he said, coming forward in his seat until his hands were resting on his spread thighs. You marvelled at how quickly his intimidating aura vanished, he thanked you sincerely when you handed him his mug, peering up at you with a smile. You couldn’t deny he was almost cute like this, when he let his guard down and showed more of his casual side instead of spewing his wisdom all around. Still, you weren’t about to forget he had just traumatized one of your pupils. To make it up to you, he had to do way more than agree to share a cup of coffee with you. You pulled out a chair and sat opposite him, adopting the same position he was sitting in to tune in to his peculiarities.

“Listen, while I don’t doubt you’re a professional, I really don’t appreciate the way you talked to my class back there,” you said, calm but sincere, locking your eyes with his. He blinked slowly; it was obvious the sudden change of topic took him by surprise. He leaned back as though he was trying to escape your determined stare or perhaps regain some of the dominance he had been so sure of up until moments ago. When he didn’t make to speak and instead proceeded to sip his coffee, you didn’t wait for his request to explain yourself.

“I know the play was no work of art, that’s something we can agree on. But for God’s sake, how are those kids supposed to get better if not by trying and learning from their mistakes? You could’ve shared your critique with me, I can handle it and I can use it to help the kids improve. Tell the same thing to them, and all they’ll take from it is that they did so poorly that a total stranger felt the need to let them know. But they don’t understand why - they’ll carry this awful feeling of failing with them, and I just hope they’ll listen to me when I try to undo the damage. All I’m saying is, you have a right to critique children’s theatre, but please, tailor your message to your audience,” you took a deep breath as the stream of words and emotions flowed out of your lips. How was that for a dramatic monologue, you almost felt like asking the critic.

He shook his head like he hoped the movement could sort his thoughts in a literal sense, and swallowed heavily before responding:

“Are you going to just disregard everything I’ve told the children just to avoid them getting upset? Does my work seem so insignificant to you? Does theatre, for that matter?” there was a hint of disappointment in his voice rather than arrogance, although you should have expected him to misunderstand your point. Still, you noted he acknowledged the ‘actors’ were literal children at last, so maybe there was the possibility of getting somewhere if you managed to stay patient with him and his rigid attitude. You understood you had to thread lightly now and assure him you felt no contempt towards him.

“No, Mr. Cartwright. I feel great respect for both, I just wish you and I would get on the same page. Do you have children of your own?” you silently cursed at yourself for attacking him with such a personal question, but to your relief he didn’t seem offended by it, though he looked away for a second before breathing out a simple ‘no’.

“And have you ever gotten the chance to watch children rehearse?” you asked further, satisfied when he shook his head, an unspoken question in his dark eyes. You felt bold when you slid forward again, hoping to make the conversation more open and ease some of the tension that had built up in the past minutes. Again, his reaction wasn’t unfavorable by any means. If anything, he appeared to relax a bit, his jaw unclenching and brow softening. You found it natural to smile this time as you proposed the idea that had been developing in your mind throughout the conversation.

“Well, I thought – if you would like – that you could watch my class, once or twice, as we rehearse the next play. I believe it could be beneficial to all of us. I could learn from your input and incorporate it into our rehearsals, and you’d see for yourself what it’s like to actually work with kids. Maybe you’ll find you can elevate your writing with some insight into the process,” you explained, praying you hadn’t struck a nerve by implying Cartwright’s writing could use some improvement.  Your doubts vanished once again as he stood up, positively beaming. You followed him, taken aback when he placed his large hands on your shoulders again, only this time in a much warmer manner.

“I’d be delighted to-“ he paused, “I believe I’ve neglected to ask you for your name, I apologize.” You assured him you didn’t mind and introduced yourself.

“Thank you. Yes, I’d be foolish not to take this opportunity. You’re the first director to ever offer this to me. And you’re absolutely right, I can’t believe I have never thought of this before, either. In fact, I would love to be present during the entire process. I can’t wait to see where my guidance can take a group so desperately lacking in skill and consistent direction – no offense.” He adjusted his glasses and smiled wide in excitement, the upper row of his teeth showing. Strangely, the first thought on your mind as he belittled your work was that he struck you as quite charming like this, maybe too charming for a middle-aged man with obnoxious demeanor. You shook off the thought and hoped you hadn’t stared for too long, offering him a professional handshake.  

“Yeah, I’m sure it’s going to be a very interesting experience,” you agreed, the slight sarcasm going completely over Cartwright’s head. You peeled a neon yellow sticky note from a stack on your desk and wrote down your name and three numbers – the time your class usually took place, the number of the rehearsal room and your phone number. You handed the piece of paper to Cartwright with a sunny smile matching his.

“We’re starting in two weeks, Thursday. Be on time, Mr. Cartwright, show the kids how it’s done.”

[troublesometrollhunters]

How would Bular react when he found out that s/o is a mermaid.

~ Bular had stumbled across you in the woods one evening. You were deep in his territory and seemed confused by him but not scared. You were an odd human and you intrigued him, so rather than eat you he somehow became friends with you. Weeks went by and months past and he still hasn't esten you. Slowly the troll realized he didn't want to be your friend, he wanted something more. So one day as you lounged under a tree together near a lake you seemed to like, he asked you if he could start courting you. His heart fluttered when you joyfully said yes.

~ Ever since your relationship got more serious Bular starts noticing things that concern him. You'd been secretive ever since your relationship started. So had Bular but he was a warlords son, there were some things about him he wasn't ready to admit yet but You... Your behavior worried him. You would leave at night and not return to the Order until morning and when you talked after disappearing it felt something was off. He suspected you of lying about something and it was making him anxious. Anxious and angry.

~ Bular feared you had another mate and were meeting them when you dissapeared or that you were conspiring against him with someone. He'd tried asking you about your nightly adventures and were you went (since that time should be spent with him), but you refused to tell him anything. You weren't rude about it and but you wouldn't crack either making Bular fear the worst.

~ He follows you into the woods on one of your nightly escapades but he loses you. He's a trained tracker who never looses his prey and somehow he looses you at the lake. Annoyed at your dissapearing act and feeling neglected he tries to hire changelings to find the truth. When that doesn't work as they always loose you at the river in the woods he's about to call the relationship off when you spill water on yourself during a date. Cursing and trying to wipe it off your too late as your sing song voice cries out in frustration. He blinks repeatedly and suddenly it makes sense. You have a tail. Your a merfolk.

~ When he sees you, the real you, he's absolutley enchanted. With your strong and scaled tail worn from the sea and time, your webbed fingers, your sharp claws, your prominent fangs, and your piercing eyes. You are divine and you are his. Your hair is braided with gold coins and seashells and your covered in dangly jewelry just like in your human form. You always smelled of the sea or river or lake and were surprisingly strong for a human, Bular finally understands why.

~ Bular is actually relieved your a merfolk. He thought he was falling for a sneaky and lying human, a disgusting creature beneath him that may not actually love him. But here you are, a magical being just like him. Sure your not a troll, your not made of rock, and your secrets not what he expected, but he loves you and he'll make this work. Even if it's a bit strange and even if its not what he thought he wanted.

~ Realizing your a merfolk and not a human he begins doing some research. Bular switches his courting tatics once he has enough information to please you. Merfolk give each other treasure and so he finds you every treasure you could ever love. Endless gold, priceless jewels, artifacts lost to time, ancient scrolls, magical objects, precious silks only found on land. Whatever you want he will get it for you. He also shows off his physical abilities by hunting for fish and ends up impressing you with his catches. He also has a pond put into his room next to his nest so you don't have to sneak off to sleep in a river or lake, you can stay with him.

~ The Prince of Darkness is not a huge fan of water considering trolls can't swim, so don't expect him to see you in your merfolk form much. He loves you more than anything but he will never go into the sea and your lucky if he'll dip his toe into a river or lake.

~ Eventually you ease him into the idea and bringing him to a river you sit him down before kaying behind him. Trolls often groom their mates and merfolk are the same. You wash his hair and chirp softly as you brush it excited trills leaving your throat as Bular relaxes and lets you work. When your finsihed Bular pulls you close and you embrace enjoying the cool water washing over you and the nice moonlight.

~ After grooming becomes a natural habit for the both of you Bular is surprised when you begin courting in bigger ways. Typically the providing partner in troll culture is the one who gives gifts while the other receives things but he isn't against the idea of You sharing your culture via your style of courting. You give him golden jewelry for his horns and rare fish for him to share with you.

~ Sometimes when your both alone you'll sing the songs of your people and gently caress his face before giving him a gentle kiss or two. He often drifts off to the sound of your beautiful voice and the feel of your smooth scales against his stone skin. As he dreams sleeping next to you he can't believe your not a siren because you have him enthralled.

~ He's not sure what attracted him to you but he's glad it did. He may not be able to experience your world but you can experience his and he's more than happy to show you his culture and heritage. He loves hearing about where you come from and your merfolk traditions and stories. He can't ever follow you into the sea but as long as your on land or in small bodies of water near him, he will keep you happy.

[seeuonadarknite]

freak — yandere oikawa tooru x f. reader

warnings: noncon, bullying, degradation, creampie, hickeys, exhibitionism

Milk bread? Check. Coffee? Got it. Gum?

"Shit!" The sound of your school loafers pattering against the sidewalk resonated throughout the desolate road as you hastily detoured back to the gas station. You were probably the store's first customer of the day, and here you were ever so graciously returning because you forgot something as minimal as chewing gum.

Any sane person would forget the gum and continue their journey towards the school. But you were far from that. You had to have a few screws loose if you willingly took time out of your day to cater to your high school bully and buy him a few of his favorite snacks. Hell, his friends have even dubbed you as his little admirer due to your obedient nature.

But you weren't catering to his needs like some sort of servant because you wanted to impress him. The only thing that kept you from smacking him across the face and calling him a stuck up jerk was pure fear. You're not some masochist that enjoys being taken advantage of by someone with a power imbalance over you all because of his stupid social status, but your options are limited.

It's either play along with his brutal torment for the rest of the last semester, or try and defend yourself and place a giant target on your back for his vicious fan girls. And even if you tried fighting him back, you wouldn't even need to be outnumbered by his friends to lose. We're talking about the Grand King here. He'd take you down by himself in a matter of seconds.

As hard as it was being seen as a freak that embraced Oikawa's torment, you'd much rather lose your dignity rather than your own safety. If Oikawa told those girls that you tried laying a pretty little finger on him, he'd be throwing you into a pit of rabid wolves to shred you apart and eat you alive.

Plus, you weren't as bad as everyone made you out to be. If there was anything Oikawa was better at other than playing volleyball, it was lying. He could spread a rumor about you robbing a damn bank and not a single person would bat an eye at his impossible claim. The fact that he has the entire school body in the palm of his hand is more than unsettling. Saying you weren't interested in testing his immeasurable power was an understatement.

Sprinting over to the spot behind the school that Oikawa was oh so keen on meeting you at, your heavy pants soon turned into wheezes. God, you were only three minutes late but you were shaking like a leaf. If anything positive came out of this situation, it was that you learned that it'd be a good idea to bring a grocery list next time, and maybe some water.

"You're late, [y/n]. Care to explain?" It wasn't hard to miss the irritation that laced the normally cheerful male's tone. Lo and behold, Oikawa was already stood at your regular spot, looking as cocky and smug as ever. There was nothing that excited him more than watching your face visibly drop at the sight of his presence. What, did you really think you'd get by with being even a second late? Time was precious, and you weren't going to get away with wasting his.

Oikawa basked in the way you powerlessly trembled as he made his way towards you. You didn't even bother trying to cower away, it was priceless! Placing a hand on your chin, he forcefully tilted your head upwards and rubbed a thumb over your lower lip. "I-I'm sorry! I.. I forgot the gum.." He shot you a glare. "B-But I went back and got it! That's why I'm a little late.." You could barely even muster up a coherent response, you were so nervous.

Judging by the way he ripped the grocery bag out of your hand and began rummaging through the contents of the bag, he was not buying your excuse. Picking up the can of cold coffee you had specifically picked out for him, his eyes narrowed in disgust. "You got me the kind with creamer. Are you trying ruin my perfect body image?"

Diverting his gaze from the coffee to you, he sent you an expectant look. If you didn't come up with a reasonable excuse within the course of a few seconds, Oikawa would make you regret waking up this morning. "This was the last one left! I'm sorry—" Lies. You cut yourself off as you felt a cold, sticky substance run down your chest and seep through your school uniform.

He was pouring the coffee you had paid for all over your chest, wearing a sickeningly sweet smile while doing so. You couldn't tell what was more discomforting, the feeling of ice cold coffee sticking to your skin, dripping all the way down to your bellybutton, or the unsettlingly lustful gaze Oikawa held on your figure. He had to be joking. Sure, he was a jerk that got off on making your life a living hell, but he never took it to such perverse extents.

"Aww, you look so cute with your tits covered in coffee. You must be freezing! I'll warm you up." Somehow the idea of him warming you up sent chills running up your spine. There was no way in hell he was about to do something thoughtful like giving you his jacket or helping you clean up the mess he deliberately made.

Forcefully grabbing you by the shoulders, Oikawa shoved you onto the cement with ease, watching your face contort into a cringe. You could already feel the rough texture of the ground scraping at your skin through the thin fabric of your uniform. Was he about to beat the shit out of you? Why was he looking down at you like a starved carnivore?

Instead of answering the questions rapidly flowing through your head, Oikawa straddled your waist with both lanky legs. However, instead of trying to fight him back, you stare at him with a dejected look in hopes of him hurrying up whatever the hell he planned on doing.

"Now, I'm sure you're not big on getting attacked by my loyal fans. So do me a massive favor and be quiet, alright?" You wanted to wipe the stupid smirk right off of his face as he basically threatened you. This man was about to use you for his own personal pleasure and there was nothing you could do about it.

Glancing down at your glossy eyes one last time, Oikawa basks in the fearful expression that adorns your face. Making quick work of your coffee stained uniform, he popped open the buttons, giving himself a clear frontal view of your sticky cleavage.

A small smirk tugged at his lips as he glanced down at the lacy bra that adorned your body. "Not only have you decided to wear such a lewd piece of clothing, but you wore the kind that snaps open in the front? Ahh, you must want me to fuck you."

Oikawa wasted no time in snapping open your bra, allowing your breasts to spring free. Both of your tits were on perfect display for the setter's hungry eyes to gaze at. You felt powerless and small under his primal stare. It couldn't possibly get any more worse than this.

Maybe the rumors were right, maybe you were a tad bit unhinged. Any sane person would've seen this coming from a fucking psychopath like Oikawa. "P-Please.. don't do this.." You gave pleading one last shot as you stared pathetically into his chocolate brown eyes that gleamed with amusement.

Unfortunately for you, your doe eyes only seemed to egg the cocky brunette on as he roughly clasped your breasts with each hand. Although the uncomfortable, yucky feeling of coffee sticking to your skin still lingered, the only thing you could zero in on was your tormentor's working hands as he squeezed your hardened nipples in between his slender fingers.

He was squeezing and fondling your sensitive mounds like stress balls. Did he forget that you were a human just like him? Has he really amounted you to a mere plaything for him to toy with whenever he pleased? With the way that his hands kneaded and pulled at your breasts like dough, you were beginning to think that your theories were correct.

His half lidded eyes flicker up to yours for a split second, allowing him to witness the deliciously mortified expression you wore. Within a fluid movement, Oikawa leans down and traps your lips in a ferocious kiss. It started off with just Oikawa forcefully merging his lips onto yours, but with the squeeze of your breast you regretfully gasped, allowing passageway for his wet appendage.

It's hard to decipher what's more uncomfortable; the feeling of Oikawa's tongue swishing around yours, rendering it nearly impossible to breathe or the obvious hard on he has rubbing up against your skin. When he finally pulls away, his breaths are heavy and uneven.

Hooking his fingers under the waistbands of your skirt and panties, Oikawa tugs the elastics down, watching as your slick strings down along with your panties. Crimson shaded your cheeks as you averted your gaze from Oikawa's. If there was any possible way of coping with the mortifying situation at hand, it'd be closing your eyes and pretending to be anywhere but where you were.

Unfortunately for you, sight wasn't your only sense. Shutting your eyes wouldn't stop you from hearing the sound of Oikawa's belt buckle clinking, and it wouldn't prevent you from feeling his hardened cock running across your thigh. Opening your eyes, you couldn't help the audible gasp that escaped your lips as you gazed at his cock. It was as big in girth and in length as all of his fan girls had claimed. You really hoped that they had been bluffing.

Oikawa seemed to appreciate your unwavering eyes, as he prodded the tip of his cock at your hole. "Wait! Please, don't.. At least use a rubber." You pleaded, trying your hardest not to let any lewd noises to escape your mouth as he began easing his head into the walls of your cunt. However, all your pleading did was evoke an amused chuckle from the man top of you.

"Aww, that's all you're worried about? Don't worry, I'll pull out," He coos, grabbing the curves of your hips to steady himself as he pushes himself further inside of your pulsating hole. As uncomfortable as the foreign feeling of Oikawa's massive cock pushing your walls apart was, you felt a small wave of relief wash over you upon hearing his response.

He seemed to notice the look of relief taking over your features, because he sent you an ear to ear grin that put the cheshire cat to shame. With a forceful thrust that would surely leave you sore, Oikawa finally pushes the rest of his length into the constricting walls of your cunt. "..after I cum inside of you!" He grabs onto your legs and folds them into your chest within a fluid movement, making it easier for his cock to reach spots your measly fingers would never be able to find.

He either didn't notice or decided to ignore the the way your body physically tensed at his response. He was joking. Right? Sure, he obviously knew no boundaries and had no problem using and abusing your body, but you assumed he had the smallest bit of self control. Maybe you were thinking too highly of him.

Rearing his hips back a fraction, Oikawa thrusts back into you, already kissing the tip of your cervix with the head of his cock. His pace starts off slow and steady, allowing your insides to memorize each and every curve and vein on his cock. If you weren't so upset with him for doing this against your will, you would've been appreciative of his benign thrusts.

Glancing up at the clock that hung from the back of the school, Oikawa cringed. He had to make this quick. His comfortable, languid pace quickens as soon as you can relax. The once quiet spot behind the school is soon filled with sounds of grunts, moans, and ear deafening slaps. Any regard for your personal comfort is gone out the window, as he thrusts in and out of you at a rapid, unrhythmic pace.

He nestles his head into the crook of your neck, running his lips over the sensitive skin whilst his hips smack against yours at what feels like one hundred miles per hour. "Maybe I'll mark you. Nobody else will be allowed to fuck you like this, only me.." If your mind wasn't zeroed in on the feeling of his balls slapping your rear at full speed, you would of picked up on the hint of possessiveness in his tone.

Eyes trained on the skin of your neck, Oikawa began sucking and nibbling, leaving a trail of purple bruises starting from your neck and ending at your chest. It was a mystery how he managed to create love bites and brutally fuck your hole at the same time.

Just the twitch of his cock causes your insides to squeeze at his length like a snake constricting around its victim. "Fuck, you're really tight, huh?" He grunted in your ear, basking in the way your insides devoured his throbbing cock with each and every thrust.

As Oikawa somehow managed to fasten his pace, he moved his hand down south, placing the pads of his fingers onto your swollen nub. If you weren't close before, you definitely were now. With the pressure of his fingers working absolute wonders on your clit, and his throbbing cock desperately pushing at your cervix, your body begged you for release. A small knot formed in your abdomen as his movements quickened, and your plushy walls began clamping down on Oikawa's cock.

With one last harsh hit to your cervix, you come undone, gushing your juices all over his twitching cock. As soon as you reach your well awaited climax, your vision begins to spot and your brain starts to fog. You were far too dazed to focus in on Oikawa hooking his arms over your thighs and slamming himself into your aching hole at a ferocious pace. "Aw, what a little baby! You came so fast." He taunted in your ear, half lidded eyes trained on your figure as he pummeled into you with hostile thrusts.

Although he teased you for releasing so fast, he felt his own climax arise with the way your innards hugged his cock. All it took was one last final thrust into the milking clutch of your cunt before he reached his end, hitting your swollen cervix one last time to shoot his load into your womb with a drawn out groan. God, he didn't regret ditching his condom for a second. Seeing his hot, thick fluids seep from your quivering hole boosted his already inflated ego. Only he was capable of leaving you like this.

Sliding his cock out of your dripping cunt, Oikawa watched as you sat up from your spot on the cement and began buttoning up your shirt. Cute, now coffee wasn't the only sticky substance splattered all over your skin.

After pulling his pants back up and fixing his disheveled hair, he helped you up from the ground. It would've been a kind gesture, if he hadn't followed it by forcefully tugging your panties back up with a condescending grin. "Don't go to the bathroom or wash up. If you do, I'll fuck you again and cum inside of you twice. Don't forget, I have eyes everywhere." His voice was disturbingly cheerful for the unsettling words that came from his mouth.

Sending you one last signature grin, he flashed a peace sign at you like you were one of his fan girls asking for a picture. It baffled you how two faced he could be at times. "See you later, slut!" He giggled before leaving you alone at the scene, drenched in all kinds of different liquids.

Whoever told you that high school was going to be easy was lying through their teeth.

[wouldduskwood]

Jake's POV Descendants of Despair Part 53

As I lay beside her, I thought about how much I had changed. I wasn't obsessively checking my computer anymore because I had everything I have ever wanted beside me. Though I wanted to keep her safe, she also kept me grounded and real. I knew that, if it came to it, she could escape pretty much any situation. She had proven that to me on more than one occasion. This and her absolute trust in me helped me trust myself too. Trust that my hacks wouldn't fail. That they would notify me the instant something wasn't right. Now these fears only returned when she was out of my sight. She had made my life worth living. I wasn't just surviving. I wasn't just protecting the information I held. I was living life, for the first time in so long. My eyes soon grew heavy, holding her in my arms and listening to her sleep. As I began to drift, my mind wandered back to her laying Dan on his ass. Though my thoughts had a dream like quality to them, it still made me insanely happy.

I woke relatively early, holding her lightly and staring at the ceiling in quiet contemplation. She startled awake not long after and must have noticed my strange new discomfort. “It’s weird, isn’t it?” she asked quietly. I nodded thoughtfully. “I guess discomfort has become comfortable to us?” I questioned and sighed. “I should be happy, we had an amazing night...I slept in more comfort than I have in a long time, yet somehow it just doesn’t feel right.” It was a strange thing to admit, and I hated that she felt the same way I did. We should be able to enjoy comfort, not fear it.

“Check your laptop,” she murmured, sitting herself up on the bed. I stood uneasily, noticing how free my muscles moved with sleep in a proper bed. She got up with me and we got dressed, then as I went to check my laptop she began pacing back and forth. I wondered if she was as hungry as I was, we hadn’t eaten since yesterday before meeting up with Dan. When she picked up her backpack and rummaged inside, I figured she was. As she scavenged, I grabbed a couple of energy bars I had salvaged from the remaining food and appeared beside her, handing her one. “I grabbed a couple of these from the car last night. Thought we might need something. We can get some proper breakfast after I have checked where we are at,” I said as I opened my own bar and began chewing on it.

She accepted my offer and began eating, sitting close to me, watching what I was doing on the laptop screen. Because my laptop was so limited, I found I was having to flick from screen to screen to ensure everything was in good working order and there had been no attempted breaches. I was fairly engrossed in my work when I heard her mumble, “Hm,” quietly. I wondered what it was that had drawn her attention. “Yes?” I asked, pausing briefly in my screen flicking and typing. “Nothing, just...you’re still keeping track of Richy?” she asked. “You saw that, huh?” I replied. She really amazed me, I had been working at a fairly high speed to get us out of here as soon as I could and yet she had still picked up on what I was doing. “Well done, I am impressed. You know a fair bit about programming to pick up on that from the small strings you must have seen.” She shrugged in embarrassment. “You don’t mind me watching?” she asked in wonder. Her question touched on my epiphanies of the previous evenings. She was part of me and she hadn't seen it yet. Her question made me laugh in wonder. I thought I had shown her just how much she meant to me by allowing her access to my system but I decided she needed me to say it.

She glared at me as I turned to face her, shaking my head to try and gain control of myself. “Here’s the thing,” I replied soothingly. “I love you and I trust you. Usually my trust in people is based on what I have been able to dig up about them online. Not with you, you are a blank entity online. Anyway, I guess what I’m trying to say is, my reaction to you hadn’t made sense until I decided that you were made for me, as dumb as that sounds, I think of you as a soulmate...if they were to exist. Because you are truly part of me, I have made everything I do part of you as well. You have full access to my set up remember? You also have full access to my phone through yours. Everything I am, it is you.”

As I expected, she seemed happy but uncomfortable at my expression of love, so she turned away from my gaze and then pouted as I giggled at her reaction. “It’s okay, you don’t have to say it, I know how much you love me,” I replied smugly. She growled under her breath then leaped on me, but I was already expecting her response and caught her with a grin. “Okay, maybe we should get you some proper food eh?” I asked, trying to stifle my giggles. “Urgh,” she groaned. I closed my laptop and packed it in a bag then motioned for her to gather her gear as well. Though she had grounded me, I still didn't like to stay in one place for too long without a full compliment of tech gear to keep watch over us. Also, enclosed spaces started to get to me after a while. It is nearly impossible to escape from a small space like this.

Once we had cleared out the motel room of our personal belongings, we dropped the key on the table then put our hoods up and left. It was too early to head to meet Dan, so we had a little time to fill in before we would need to head back to the prison. “Let’s go through a drive thru,” I suggested, knowing full well that she preferred to eat healthy but unable to part from her just yet. “Then we can decide on our next steps.” I was pleased when she nodded in relief.

The first drive thru we saw, I pulled in and we argued briefly over the least disgusting options from the menu before both deciding on our breakfast. I pulled up to the window with my head down, we paid, got our order and left. She picked up her bag as if it was something she hadn't seen before and didn't trust, and sniffed it in mild disgust. I glanced at her and grinned. “Okay, I know, not the best but at least it's something.” she raised an eyebrow as she pulled her breakfast muffin from the bag. “...is it though?...” she asked. Her expression and reply were so funny that she had me laughing as I pulled the car over near a deserted park. “Okay, gross food is still food,” I grinned as I dug into my bag and began to eat. I had to admit, I too preferred the healthier options. We needed the physical fitness ability to keep on top of things.

“So, the plan?” I asked. “I take it there is a bit more to it than the simple stuff you gave the buffoon.” Surprisingly, and to my absolute delight, she snickered in response then became angry at herself so nudged me with her elbow. “Sorry,” I responded with a sly grin. Her reaction to Dan had been absolutely priceless. “Yeah, you need to have the cameras going, follow everything outside. If something happens, you need to get a signal to me without digital means. I can’t take my phone in with me, they will confiscate it until I leave and I would rather they had no access to it at all. I’m assuming Dan will have his, but again we won’t have access to it while in there.” She paused to take a breath and have a sip of water. I was thoughtful for a moment. This was probably the most important part of our operation and she had entrusted it to me.

“Okay, the programme you installed that gave me access to their system also gave me access to their alarms. If something happens, I will set off some form of alarm, nothing major that would cause a lockdown, but enough of a distraction that you can get out and hopefully it will draw the man without a face away.”

“Wow…” she gasped, sounding impressed. “Fuck Jake, you’re incredible!” she declared earnestly. I was so proud of myself that I couldn't believe it. “Uh...there is one other thing I want to do before we go. I may not get time after...I want to take down the traps on the roofs, in case an unsuspecting person gets hurt. I also want to look at whether the trap was tampered with on the roof the man without a face was waiting on.” She requested hesitantly. I wasn't thrilled with the idea. “I can’t stop it from happening can I?” I asked sadly. “No, not this time. It’s important to me.” she replied bluntly. How could I say no to her now? Besides, she was probably right, the traps, if they hurt someone, would draw more unwanted attention on us. It wasn't work the risk, even if that risk was minimal. However, if we were just on the roofing, I could work with that. “Okay, but this time I’m coming too. We will park as far away as we can, where there is access to the roofing around that area. Do you agree?” She thought for a moment, glaring at me intently. “Ugh, fine. But you keep your face hidden the entire time. You dismantle any cameras around the area first and if there is anybody looking at you, you go!” She replied in an attempt at compromise. I nodded solemnly and started the car. I was thrilled that she wanted to keep me safe...and that she had wanted to compromise.

Part 54

[jay-and-dean]

Firefly   Chapter 1. Five years old

By Roonyxx and Jay-and-dean

Pairings : future Dean x reader ? 

Summary :  40 years in Hell, but he didn’t spend all this time all alone, he had her. 

Prepare to know what happened during those years Dean never talks about. To immerge yourself in Hell, only lit by the mysterious kid growing here...

And to see some of your favorite villains again : Crowley, Lilith, Lucifer... And also Sammy and Jack...

Serie Warnings : Hurt!Dean, Hell (torture, even if we tried to not give it graphic descriptions, creepy demons, blood, violence), swearing, angst, future fluff and smut.

This story is in both Reader’s POV and Dean’s POV

Wordcount : 2645

Note : This is our second collaboration. We can’t both edit the same post, so we decided we would post 1 chapter/2 each, like we did for Same.

We both worked as much on this story and it’s the result of both our brains but also both our hearts.

Please, if you want to show love for this story, don’t forget we were together in this.

This story will be around 10 chapters and we intend to edit it every Saturday if nothing delays it.

Roonyxx Masterlist

Jay’s Masterlist

_________________________

Reader’s Pov

She should have stayed in her room. 

She should have stayed in her room for many reasons. Because her huge, warm and luxury bedroom was far enough from the horrible screams first. Desperate calls for help echoing everywhere, useless begging and strangled howls of infinite pain. 

Because her room was neither burning hot nor cold like bleak ice.

Because there was no smell indescribably vile between the rock walls and along the velvet curtains…

But in her child mind, anything was better than eternal silence, even cries for help, better than the lonely torpor of comfort, than that unbearable loneliness.

And boredom.

So, as usual, she took Mister Teddy Bear in her arms, holding him close against her tiny body. With her finger she stuffed the foam escaping from the hole where his head should be, and smiled at his pathetic form.

She didn’t miss his head, for the same reason she didn’t miss the sky : because she had never seen it. 

Hell was big enough to get lost forever but she never did. It was vast enough for her to never go twice in the same place if she decided too. And for now, she had only found one place worth going back, the rest was only screams.

She shivered a little, today was cold, at least in this area. And even if she was shaped to handle Hell, she could see the steam coming out of her mouth and taste the metallic smell of blood on her tongue. 

When something moved on the wall of that infinite corridor, she took a step back, bumping the opposite sweating blood wall. It was the skin of a human being, empty and limply nailed on the wall, but somehow still whining and crying.  

She looked down at Mister Teddy bear and noticed it had been stained again, by the thick smelly blood constantly seeping from the tall cold dark walls. She sighed and gave the shaking empty skin a reprimanding look, frowning her thin and small eyebrows.

And she kept walking. 

A demon appeared at an intersection. He wasn’t wearing a human form, his giant body scrawny to the bones, with a crest of rotten wood along his visible spine, transparent skin, no eyes, and a huge pair of horns above him. His arms were long enough to touch the floor, and he was raising his legs too high while walking, which gave him something of a spider. 

She recognized Jael.

He passed by, ignoring her tiny form as usual, leaving a trail of smoke and sulfur behind him. For him, she was probably not bigger than a cat would be to a human being. Annoyed by his complete indifference, she closed her tiny five years old fists and punched his leg in a grunt. 

The demon didn’t even acknowledge her and she watched him walk or crawl away. 

She stayed still for a moment, holding Mister Teddy Bear tight, looking around at the infinite numbers of boring corridors this maze had. She turned on herself in a little dance, her dress flying like there was wind, closed her eyes and stopped randomly, a little dizzy.

This way today.

She sighed in content, she had never been this way before. So she put her tiny patent shoe in front of her and started walking.

She walked for a while, going in any direction like a little mouse in an abandoned manor. Avoiding the walls and covering her ears when the screams were too loud. Once or twice she looked inside the rooms, her eyes meeting pieces of humans, arms reaching to her, eyes without eyelids following her tiny form while beasts with their demon faces or a human costume were feasting on their guts. 

She turned left and found herself in front of a door opened on a large room with a man in the middle of it. 

He wasn’t screaming. 

Chains were maintaining him up and straight, his arms stretched toward the ceiling. The chain was going through his stomach and one of his thighs. Weights were at his hips probably slowly tearing his back.

She stopped in front of the door and held Mister Teddy Bear closer, studying his silhouette, hidden in the shadow of the corridor. 

He was brighter, he was stronger. His silence made her shiver for she was so used to the din of despair.

Did he really belong here ?

Mesmerized by his noble aura, she took a step in the room and looked up. His face was held by a chain around his neck, his eyes closed and face unexpectedly calm, almost as if he was sleeping. 

When she took another shy step, her potent shoe hit a piece of the chain she didn't notice and the metallic sound made him gasp. His eyes opened and their green light fell on her.

He stayed totally motionless, but it was not like he could really move anyway. Only his eyes weren’t still, trembling in her direction, struggling to focus. Like all the damned souls, he seemed really surprised to see her here, she was just a little girl anyway ; and there was no child in Hell. But his eyes had no expression of supplication, only a mix of distrust and pain.

Demons had never frightened her much, some of them were impressive and ugly, disgusting even. But they couldn’t hurt her. What made shivers run along her tiny back were the damned themselves. Their screams, their begging, their despair... And in her immature mind, she had come to think they were fouler than the creatures of Hell themselves.

Not him. 

Her fascinated wide eyes were magnetized to his face, forgetting the chains and the pool of blood at his feet, everything broken about him. She just stared at his face and thought he was beautiful in a way.

She forgot her boredom for a second, and took another step. In front of her little form, with his arms almost reaching the ceiling, he appeared as tall as a mountain. She lifted her chin, frustrated a little to not be able to come closer to his face. 

Despite his dusty and grimy skin, she could see little light brown stains around his nose, his eyes were very green and bright, and bloodshot only made their natural color lighter.

Her tiny hand moved a little, not sure what she wanted to do, maybe poke his thigh, like little children tend to do when they find something curious. But he flinched, and she got scared. The whole mountain of his motionless body suddenly making the iron of the chains scream.

She took a step back and put Mister Teddy Bear on the floor, away from danger, before she came closer again. Keeping her eyes on him to tame the reactions of this huge and impressive wounded beast.

This time, she showed him her hand. Her little palm raised gently, she stood there, tasting his blood on her tongue, and the smell of metal and pain.

His face was confused, and his eyes still trembling from the intense fear of being touched, but he kept them on her, going from her innocent eyes to her tiny clean hand.

Dean’s pov

His eyes followed her as she sat down cross-legged a few feet from him, watching him in silence, she took Mister Teddy Bear and put him in her lap.

Dean’s eyes flickered from her little form to the door, waiting for the next torture to begin, but it didn’t.

She just kept watching him, her eyes shining with innocence only a child has. Was she really a kid ? Was it a trap ? A trap to what, nothing could really get worse anyway… Trying to ignore the horrible pain, he focused on her eyes to try and read them. 

Everything was weird about her. Her age, her beauty, like she came from another world, Earth or even Heaven… Nothing was dark or vile on her feature. She didn’t seem to mind that her little pink dress was getting soaked in his blood.

With one last glance at the door he cleared his throat, hoarse from screaming hours and hours, and from not really talking for what ? Years...

“Hey little girl?” he cleared his throat once more, surprised by his own voice.  

Not controlling his tone perfectly, he spoke a little too loud which made her shuffle back a little. He really didn’t want her to disappear just now, maybe if he managed to talk to her a little, get a name...

“No stay, s-sorry… I’m not gonna hurt you.” His voice seemed to calm her this time, she held Mister Teddy closer to her chest.

“Are you, lost ? What’s your name?” He tried, but she just kept watching him not saying a word. 

He gave her a little smile through the unbearable suffering. It felt foreign smiling, he hasn’t done it in years. 

“I won’t tell anyone.” 

It looked like she smiled back but he was too far to see it clearly, could she even talk anyway ? She looked human, but here… a kid ? Was she dead too ? How did she end up here ?

“Where you from, little girl?” he tried again, speaking was horribly painful but this moment was priceless to him. 

How he would love to hear a voice other then the screams of Hell or the filth the demons spat at him. But she kept her lips sealed, taking her little bear by the legs, making him walk through the blood. She didn’t seem phased by the horror of it at all.

“I’m Dean” he said. 

She looked up at him and slowly took the arm of her bear to wave at him. His eyes widened, so she could hear and understand him. If he had been able to, he would wave back, instead he chuckled lightly for the first time since the Hellhounds got him; almost forgetting the the chains in his back.

“What’s your little friend’s name? He looks badass.” 

Still no answer.

He needed her to be real, to not be an hallucination caused by pain or loneliness.

“Well I guess I’ll give you a name then, is that okay ?”

She shrugged slightly, wiping her headless toy to her perfectly ironed dress. 

“What you think of… Firefly?” She looked up at him, now he was sure he could see a smile gracing her little face.

“You like that ? You remind me of one” he tried not to cough at his dry throat, knowing it would be enough to break his back. “A little light in the darkest place…”

He started to look at her thoroughly. She didn’t look too skinny, she was a little dirty, blood stains on her arms, dress and shoes, but in a place like this that wasn’t surprising. Her eyes didn’t look heavy so she had a place to sleep, to rest… How he missed resting, to be able to close your eyes and just sleep, to not fear the never ending pain.

“How did you end up here ?” he asked more for himself, as she didn’t seem to talk at all. 

Maybe she couldn’t speak at all. How old would she be, four ? Maybe five ? The blood stains on her face made it difficult to see her child like features.

She was so remarkable, in this screaming pit of misery and despair, there was not one ounce of fear in her eyes. She didn’t seem faced by the fact that she was covered in blood, that her teddy bear was missing his head, that he himself was dangling by chains and seeping the very same blood she was sitting in. 

“You have been here for a while haven’t you ?” 

He could tell she probably didn’t know anything else but Hell. The absence of fear, the indifference, like everything was just as it always had been... He was sure of it. But then again, how did she end up in the pit ?

A cautious dark chuckle left his mouth.

“I lost count of how long I’ve been here but I heard it’s been about 10 or 15 years.”

She looked up at him, her little E/C eyes shining with curiosity, he hasn’t seen that in years, he couldn’t help but smile at the sight of them. They remind him so much of Sammy’s eyes when he was younger. 

A heavy door fell shut in the distance making Dean flinch, grunting loud when his cruel bonds rattled. She got up and came closer, inspecting the chain going through his thigh, her face showing little interest in it. 

Then, her curiosity visibly winning against her distrust, she crawled between his legs to watch his back. And he closed his eyes in apprehension of her touching something. But she didn’t.

Reader’s Pov

He was different from everything she had seen in her short life, he wasn’t screaming like the others, or begging, he just… endured it. He seemed stronger. 

She circled him to come back to where she could see his face. Her little hand reached for him again, but she remembered the damned didn’t like to be touched so she took her hand back.

Heavy footsteps suddenly echoed in the hallway. 

She grabbed mister Teddy Bear from the floor and moved to stand beside the door, Jael entered, still in his demonic form.

“Dean Winchester, ready for your next session ?” his croaky voice came out of his mouth full of teeth in a strange way. “The master Alastair is waiting.” 

He steps on the chain making it shift in Dean’s gut. When Dean groaned hoarsely, she moved to punch her little fist into the creatures leg again.

With a sulfur stenched sigh the creature looked down her.

“What are you doing in here” he said in a growl. “You know it isn’t allowed.” 

His long bony fingers wrapped around her left ankle to pull her upside down into the air, she weighed nothing. She started to struggle but totally in vain, her palms clenched around Mister Teddy Bear to not lose him, and her free leg trying to kick the demon.

“I’m not a damn babysitter” the demon sighed, a cloud of smelly sulfur reaching her face, and making her sneeze. “I’ll tie you again if you keep wandering, child.” 

He turned to leave the room, his creepy gait making her dangle left and right.

“I’ll be back for you Winchester, you’ll say yes to Alastair soon enough.”

Still dangling from Jael’s grip, she took her bear arms and waved it at Dean before the Demon turned in the hallway.

Jael walked back to where her room was, when he pushed the door he came face to face with a Demon in the shape of a man, wearing a suit and a brand new watch, Crowley.

“Sir, your filth has been wandering” he dropped her to the floor bluntly. “Again.”

“Careful Jael, that’s my daughter” the smooth, human voice of her father echoes with no affection.

Crowley bended to pull her up by the arm, grimacing at how dirty she was, and put her in the corner where he had put the chain a few times ago, that was a little to big for her fragile foot anyway, around her.

“Now sweet cheeks” Crowley bended to her eye level “You know you aren’t allowed to leave this room so do us all a favor and don’t?” 

She stuck her tongue out to him.

“Just kill her already” Jael grunted.

Crowley stood up and ushered Jael out of the room, he locked the door behind them, while she already took her foot out of the too big chain to run at the door, failing to open it. 

“Patience Jael, one day this girl will lead us to victory, you’ll see.”

___________________________________

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[nightfallwolfkin]

Gilly and Sam - A Study In Character (Game of Thrones)

The more times I see this scene, the more I am struck by the depth of Gilly’s character. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=6uael59PBA8 When we first meet Gilly, she is a terrified young woman, almost still a child herself, about to have her first baby by her incestuous and abusive husband/father, Craster.  Her upbringing has been unimaginably bleak, frightful, and full of neglect and horror.  She has nothing to hope for except that her baby might be a girl, so that she can keep her and raise her to be yet another of her father’s wives.  We know that no sons are allowed to remain.  Gilly at this point is portrayed as little more than afraid and desperate, but she shows at least enough bravery to approach Sam (probably the least intimidating of all the Night’s Watch present) and beg him to help her escape with her baby.  She shows enough strength to flee with Sam from the riot at Craster’s, even though they are jumping from the frying pan into the fire, being alone beyond the wall with little hope of making it to civilisation. For the next while, we mostly see Gilly as nervous, fearful, clingy, and ignorant.  She can’t really help any of these states of being, considering that she’s got an infant to protect in a hellishly precarious situation and she’s had no education whatsoever.  The pinnacle of her abilities as portrayed at this point is that she can build a fire, which is one up on Sam in that department at least.  It’s easy, therefore, to pass her off as a minor character with not much part to play in the grand scheme of things.  She’s little more than an ingenue, a person to be protected and to showcase the compassion and bravery and knowledge of other characters, namely Sam.  This is not an ignoble thing, as Sam’s bravery in the face of absolute desperation is extremely important to establish.  But it does her character a disservice that lingers even as she begins to develop and flesh out into a more fully realised person.  Even at this early stage she shows signs of wisdom, as depicted in her conversation with Sam about boy’s names that extends to a comparison of their respective horrible paternal relationships.  She shows us that she is capable of abstract thought and understanding depite her lack of education.  But we still have an impression of Gilly that is based on a particular set of circumstances, and when those circumstances change, so does she, and so therefore must our opinion of her. Once she finds herself at Castle Black, she is still in a rather uncomfortable situation, the only female surrounded by largely unsavoury men, her only protector the ‘weakest’ of them all.  Nobody can accept the idea that Sam killed a White Walker, a hideous creature most of the men of the Night’s Watch have never seen, and those who have can’t imagine Sam, of all people, standing up to one.  They know him as a coward and a weakling -- they are as limited by their early impressions of him as we are by our early impressions of Gilly.  Only she has seen what is really inside him, what really matters, and so far, only he can see what matters about her.  He is gentle, nurturing, patient and protective with her and Young Sam, her baby who has been given his name, though at this point he is still rather condescending in his attempts to teach her, and tiptoes around her volatile moods, her fears and frustrations that erupt from time to time as she tries to adjust to the world in which she finds herself.  But she is adjusting faster than is immediately apparent to us, as we watch her through the lens we crafted for her.  She is absorbing knowledge and skills as fast as she can, and often displays depths of strength, wisdom and humour that could never have been allowed to develop in her childhood home.  We still, however, see her as annoyingly clingy and demanding when she insists on remaining with Sam even while he thinks he is protecting her by sending her away.  And it turns out that she was no safer in Mole’s Town than she was at Castle Black.  All she knows is that whatever the danger, she wants to be with Sam. When they leave Castle Black for Oldtown, and Sam tries to provide her a safe place with his family, we get the chance to see them come up against the prejudices of the outside world.  This is depicted by Randyll Tarly’s disgust and disdain of his violently rejected heir Sam, and his absolute revulsion of Gilly when he discovers her origin as a wildling.  Sam realises he can’t leave Gilly with someone who would think of her that way, in spite of her obvious acceptance by both his mother and his sister.  They are helpless against Randyll’s authority and prejudices, and can only express their disagreement, not really able to act on it.  Sam decides not only to take Gilly with him to Oldtown, but also takes his family’s Valyrian steel sword, one of the most priceless possessions anyone in this world can possibly have.  In so doing, he shows how he is both developing and using his own core of steel.  Like Gilly, he continues to be misjudged based on superficial appearances, when he contains at least as much intelligence, wisdom and fortitude as anybody else in the show, if not more so.  Nobody could survive what they both have experienced in their lives and keep going without an unimaginable font of inner strength. Fast foward to the scene in the video above, when they have been in Oldtown some time and Sam is apprenticing to be a Maester.  This is a degrading and unpleasant role, obviously meant to break the spirit and submerge the will of those who aspire to be among the educational elite of the world.  Unfortunately, we find that this elite community, far from being a source of valuable knowledge that could improve the lives and wellbeing of thousands of citizens of Westeros, is insular, jealous, and unwilling to share what they consider their own wealth of information with the world except in small doses in their roles as educators and medical practitioners.  They think more of themselves than they do of their responsibilities to the rest of the world, and Sam cannot in good conscience waste his own time and value on such unproductive navel-gazing.  He defies instructions to save Jorah Mormont from death by greyscale, endangering his own life in the process, and succeeds at something nobody has ever successfully done before.  He is able to do this because of his extraordinary ability to absorb knowledge and understanding from the written word, at a level that impresses even the Archmaester -- for a moment.  Then he’s sent back to his menial, mostly pointless apprentice tasks while the maesters go on hoarding their knowledge like a cache of treasure. In this scene, we see Sam performing his duty of copying old manuscripts before they become unreadable, not even able to use the knowledge of the ages that he is tasked to preserve, if he could even sift anything useful from the pedantic ramblings of the long-dead maesters.  Gilly, ever keen to increase her own knowledge, is reading the manuscripts as he works.  No mention is made of how remarkable this is, considering that just a short while before she was completely unable to read at all.  We can smile indulgently as she stumbles over the pronunciation of words she doesn’t yet understand, ignoring the incredible progress she’s made in such a brief time.  We are so caught up in laughing at her ignorance that we might almost miss the significance of what she is discovering -- as Sam does, not having the context that those of us watching already possess.  But even that is not the main point of this essay. What strikes me most about this scene is Gilly’s behaviour in the face of Sam’s anger and frustration at his position of imposed helplessness and the dismissal of his knowledge and experience by the maesters.  We can see that he is not in a good mood as he works on his menial and pointless-seeming task.  Gilly chatters in a way that we might interpret as inane as she leafs through the disintegrating texts (also, by the way, how bad are the maesters at preserving books if these things need copying out only a couple of decades at most after being written?).  She is seeking to entertain herself and interact with Sam while he is brooding in a cloud of his own irritation.  He is obviously annoyed at her for distracting him at the same time that he is annoyed at the very task he is being distracted from -- but he does not ever, at any point, take out his irritation and frustration on her.  This is notable and commendable, because how many of us can say we’ve never snapped or sniped at our partners, fairly or unfairly?  Instead, he vents his spleen at the maesters themselves and the insupportable limitations they place on the spread of knowledge and skill while they congratulate themselves on possession of the same. Gilly seems oblivious to his snark at first glance, but if you watch her carefully, you can see several things.  She has obviously seen male anger before, having grown up abused by her father/husband, been attacked by men at Castle Black, and witnessed their unsavoury behaviour at the Mole’s Town whorehouse.  She could easily be as cowed by this kind of behaviour as she seemed to be when we first met her.  But she meets Sam’s outburst with calm strength, completely unrattled.  She knows him.  She understands him.  She loves him.  She knows to her very core what kind of person Sam is, and she knows that he would never hurt her.  When he bursts out in anger, she knows it’s not about her, and she doesn’t try to make it about her to score points off him like so many people in relationships do (especially on television).  She is utterly secure and serene and trusts him absolutely -- not just because he is her only protection in an unfamiliar and often dangerous world, but because she GETS HIM.  They have different backgrounds, but a similar kind of upbringing nonetheless, and share an understanding fortified by their shared trauma in escaping Craster’s Keep, killing the White Walker intent on stealing Gilly’s baby, and thwarting the attempted rape by men at Castle Black.  She feels confident enough to express herself with humour in the face of his visible annoyance, risking further outbursts aimed at her.  But she knows they will not be forthcoming, because she knows Sam doesn’t behave that way. 

And she knows that because she is simply one of the most intelligent, observant and insightful characters in the entire show. Thank you for coming to my TED talk.

[imaginedisneydescendants]

Nerd

*Requested*  Reader is being tutored by Doug. However, she gets bored easily so while Doug is explaining something she decides to snatch his glasses and somehow while he's trying to get them back he trips and falls on her and they are both an awkward, blushing mess.

Paring: Reader x Doug

Word count: 1, 614

A/N: I had fun writing this one!

Request | Masterlist

(Y/N) wasn't the most exceptional at being evil nor was (Y/N) the most feared on the Isle of the Lost. Often looked down upon by your nonbiological mother, Maleficent, mistress of all evil, it still surprised you to this day that Maleficent took you in as one of her own. Maybe she thought that you some potential, but that was just wishful thinking as you ended up meeting her expectations and you were reduced to being compared to your nonbiological, eviller sister, Mal who was older by merely a year and she never let you forget that fact.

You lived in the shadow of the both of them, often ignored or overlooked. However, everything changed when you were sent to Auradon, along with Mal, Evie, Jay, and Carlos. Auradon had changed them all in a way they had never expected.

Mal decided that she wanted to be good and found true love with the King of Auradon, out of all people, and she even started being a loving older sister to you; Evie discovered that she didn't have to play dumb in order to gain the approval of a guy, she was smart and was more than a pretty face; Jay found out the true meaning of being a family and that by working as a team they were strong together; Carlos got over his fear of dogs and befriended the campus mutt and stood up to his mother, something he wasn't able to do in his whole life; You proved to yourself that you were strong and had more potential than you let on, even standing up to your 'mother' and calling her out for her horrible treatment towards you and your older sister.

Auradon was amazing; it was the land of opportunity, they could be anything they wanted to be! However, there was always downsides to the idyllic and that downside was homework. You were falling behind in math and Evie suggested that Doug tutor you.

The thought of spending one on one time with Doug made your body feel all warm and tingly; the first time it happened to you it seriously worried you, but when you consulted Mal and Evie of these strange feelings and sensations, they gushed and told you that you had a crush him. You immediately denied their affirmations; no way did you have a crush on the nerd, you had a reputation to uphold and besides, he was a year and a half older than you. He would want to date someone as young and immature as her, would he?

As you walked through the halls of Auradon Prep, on your way Doug’s dormitory, you began to fix your hair, deciding whether you should push it all back or leave it draped over your shoulders. In the end, you chose the latter before you looked down in disgust. Dresses weren't exactly your style but Evie forced you to wear one in the hope that it would impress Doug and secretly you hoped it did too.

Once you reached Doug’s dormitory door, you started to smooth out any wrinkles in your dress to try and look not like a total wreck. It took every ounce of courage to lift your hand up and knock on the door lightly and not a moment too soon, the door swung open to reveal Doug who was in his usual button-down shirt with some ridiculous type of colour scheme and pattern, complete with a matching bowtie.

‘What a nerd,’ You couldn’t help but smile, but you quickly caught it and wiped the smile off your face.

Doug’s words were caught up in his throat as he stared. Never had he seen (Y/N) wear a dress before and thought that you looked cute in it.

“Take a picture, I’ll last longer,” You joked with a smirk as you crossed your arms over your chest.

Doug shook his head out of his daydream and cleared his throat. “Oh, hi, (Y/N), is that the time already?” He asked himself out loud before he checked his wristwatch.

“Sure is,” You said simply, trying to sound somewhat cool and calm, despite how nervous you were. A sudden grin spread across your lips before teasing, "You didn’t happen to forget, did you?"

“O-Of course not!” Doug dismissed your response as he scrambled back into his room before he grabbed his learning supplies off his desk. “So, I was thinking about studying in the library,” he suggested as he adjusted his glasses.

“Yeah, sure, whatever,” You shrugged your shoulders and nodded in agreement.

With a small smile, Doug, like the gentleman he was, let you lead the way towards the library.

It had already been two hours into your study session with Doug and so far, you were bored out of your mind. You had given up trying to make sense of the question you were on a long time ago when Doug started explaining it too fast for your liking. You took a deep breath through the mouth before breathing out of your nose as your eyes wandered around the library before they landed on the nerd next to you.

You had to admit to yourself that he was cute, in a sweet and nerdish kind of way. You always found it endearing how he got excited whenever he was explaining to somebody a subject he was really interested in. He was so kind and charming towards you and no matter how cold you treated him, he didn’t seem to mind as his positive attitude kept intact. The more you thought about it, maybe you did have a crush. You weren't too sure as you didn’t really know how real love felt like. On Isle, you grew up to believe that anything above a smirk, a frown or a snicker wasn’t tolerated, so you weren't the sort of person to show your feelings.

‘But you live in Auradon now, things are different here,’ A little voice went off inside of your head. It was true, you were in Auradon now. You didn’t have to hide your feelings anymore but you also didn't want people to think that you’ve gone soft either. While Doug was still going on about your math homework, a lazy smile made its way across your face before you started to poke and prod with the side of Doug's glasses.

Doug noticed instantly as his cheeks turned a light shade of red. "Uh, (Y/N), w-what are you d-doing?" Doug stuttered, raising a curious eyebrow.

You didn't answer him as you tittered lightly before you took his glasses off his face which caused Doug to blush even more. Your world turned blurry as you slipped his glasses on before you snickered "Wow Doug, you should really go to an eye doctor!"

"That's actually how got them," Doug deadpanned before his voice became slightly demanding, "Now please, take them off before you hurt your eyes.”

“Okay fine," You took them off your face and were about to hand them over to Doug when you suddenly pulled your hand back with a small smirk playing on your lips, "But you'll have to catch me first!"

With that, you got up from your seat and went to stand a few feet away from him. Laughing quietly to yourself, you twirled the glasses in your hand all the while teasing him. Doug couldn’t fight the smile that was growing on his lips before he got up and tried to make his way towards your blurry figure.

When Doug got closer to you, he tried to reach for his glasses but you stepped to the side before running as quietly as you could around shelves that were stacked with books. After a couple of minutes of chasing each other around the library, Doug was getting a bit frustrated with you.

“Come on, (Y/N), this isn’t funny anymore!“ Doug hissed as he tried not to be loud as they were in a library while walking around with squinted eyes.

“I dunno, from my point of view it seems pretty funny to me,” You laughed as you rounded another bookshelf and then another one.

You looked back to see if he was coming, but when you didn't see him insight you grinned to yourself and you were about to round another bookshelf when Doug ran right into you, causing the both of you to fall to the ground.

Groaning, you opened your eyes to see that Doug had landed on top of you while you were under him. You and Doug both stared wide-eyed at each other for what seemed like forever before he cleared his, throat about to say something when you cut him off.

“Ew!" You scoffed before pushing him off of you and sat up, trying to fight the blush that was starting to blossom across your cheeks.

Doug was shoved onto the floor next to you before he sat up quickly. “I-I’m so sorry, (Y/N), you came round — I couldn’t see where I was going —” Doug tried to explain rapidly but kept fumbling over his words.

You, wanting to tease him a little more, leaned towards his face as the two of you were nearly nose to nose, and you smirked, “Are you sure you ain't falling for me already, huh, Douglas?”

You didn’t know where the sudden confidence to flirt came from but Doug’s reaction was priceless. His face was as red as a tomato, as he was staring deer eyed at you in complete shock.

"You're such a nerd," You snickered putting his glasses back on for him crookedly, before planting a quick kiss on Doug's cheek, which left him a blushing and stuttering mess.

[these-are-the-first-steps]

(hi this is pissbabysithlord rolling into your inbox to offer a humble prompt) HOW DID DEMON REY MEET FATHER KYLO? (╯°□°）╯︵ ┻━┻ i wanna know

WELL HERE YOU GO!! May not be what you expected!! 8D

——-

“Kid’s a fucking idiot.”

“He has no idea what he’s doing.”

“He’s Vader’s grandchild, though.”

“Vader was a fool.”

“Even so, shouldn’t that be worth something?”

“Since when is merit won by bloodline? What kind of soft, monarchic bullshit is that- have you forgotten what side of Eternity you’re on?”

The demons coalesced in and out of each other, more or less huddled, around the 17 year old who worked in secret in his uncle’s attic, with a book he never should have found.

He was an easy target- opened wide to the powers of the other side with zero training in how to control it. They enjoyed messing with him, moving his things around when he turned his back, flipping to the wrong pages. In the beginning, he fell for that one a lot, and they’d laughed loudly when he’d summon some odd, grotesque thing after meshing two different chants together. He’d gotten mostly wise to that trick, though, so they’d had to come up with other means of entertaining themselves.

“I think he’s just young,” came an airier voice.

“Pfft,” another scoffed. “Agaraesh only likes him because Vader used to hang around with that primordial buffoon.”

“Obi Wan was not a buffoon!” Agaraesh exclaimed. “He knew more than all of you combined! He’d know what do with another Skywalker trying to break into this realm.”

“Newsflash, Rae, he’s a Solo, not a Skywalker.”

“A different last name doesn’t change what’s in his blood.”

“Maybe not….but names have power. And Skywalker is a name he does not have.”

“Yeah, and it shows.”

As he went to grab a new instrument from the shelf behind him, the pages flipped silently over before fluttering down to stop at 1012.

“Shh, SHH!!” they hushed at each other, and they watched.

The boy, so wrapped up in his spell, thinking his audience was blessedly absent for once, continued on as a green smoke began to swirl over the tome. He frowned.

“That…that’s not supposed to be green,” he muttered, and screamed when thirteen vipers materialized atop his ritual.

The demons were beside themselves, and their satisfaction reeked into the surrounding space.

Agaraesh watched as the boy backed himself against the bookshelf, hands clinging to it, as his chest heaved. His mind was practically humming as it worked to think of an incantation to at least freeze the aggressive beasts. Eyes wide and arm shaking, he held out his hand towards them. The demons grew rapt. He took in a breath.

“Fríesende!!” he commanded. There was a pause, but the vipers still persisted, slithering amongst each other, slowly flicking out their forked tongues and honing in on the boy’s fear. The demons were in an uproar, falling over each other, as much as incorporeal being could, over the apparent failure.

Agaraesh was frustrated. Moving close to him, the demon rested its lips close to his ear.

“Try ‘aþ’ as your ending….” it purred, and instantly his hand shot over his ear in a panic, pulling at it desperately as the vipers moved closer.

“I’d try it quickly, too,” Agaraesh continued, “They’re already within striking distance…”

He whined, adding to the amusement of the others gathered, but his hand raised up as he forced his fear and failure into another form. His eyes flared.

“FRÍESAÞ!!” he screamed, an in an instant, the snakes not only ceased to move but also began to quickly frost over.

“Unfair!”

“You’re helping him, Rae??”

“This goes against The Orders, Agaraesh!”

“Not to mention ruining all the fun.”

Agaraesh huffed. “It got boring watching him fail,” she defended. “This is far more interesting.”

The group grumbled and several moved away. The boy was heaving rather dramatically as he stared in shock at the frozen vipers.

“….Snoke will hear about this,” one voice that hadn’t spoken up amongst the previous rabble said. Volse. “You know what could happen.”

“I hardly think the Devil’s going to be upset over nurturing a Skywalker, regardless of what his current last name may be.”

There was silence.

“You know they’ve been shielding him for a reason,” Volse said again. “You may have just ruined that.”

“Well then even more reason for his Lordishness to be pleased,” Agaraesh replied.

The boy was swinging his head around the room, as if he were looking, or checking, for something, before slowly approaching the vipers. Squatting down, he stuck out a finger, and gave one a prod. The second his flesh made contact, Agaraesh reached out with a wily grin and jolted his shoulders, sending him screaming, backwards, and banging his head into a shelf.

Agaraesh laughed heartily. “Oh, God, I really couldn’t help myself!”

He sat up, rubbing his head with a wince. “That wasn’t necessary,” he grumbled.

“Who says it wasn’t? I helped you, after all. Don’t I get a little fun in return?”

“You call a bunch of vipers ‘fun’?”

“Of course.”

“You’re insane.”

“Well yeah. Demon,” Agaraesh scoffed sarcastically. The boy froze, and his mouth went dry.

“….demon?”

Agaraesh grinned and leaned towards him. Really, the moment of revelation was always the best- time to savor it.

“Well of course, sweetheart,” Agaraesh purred sweetly, and lightly licked its tongue up his cheek. He shuddered violently but didn’t move away. The boy had more guts than the others gave him credit for.

He blinked into the nothing. “Where are you? Why can’t I see you?” he asked finally. Agaraesh smirked.

“Well for that, you’d either need to know my name or be a much more powerful conjurer than you are. Although the snakes are quite impressive, and…”

He sighed in exasperation. “Alright, alright, I think I’ve been mocked enough for one day.”

“It’s Agaraesh,” Volse’s voice cut cleanly through the empty room.

“Hey,” the demon protested, but the boy already went to open his mouth.

“AGARAESH,” he recited firmly.

“SSHIT!!”

“You said he was interesting…” Volse drawled back.

Agaraesh popped into existence, shorter than the boy, tawny brown hair in a mess, and she was clothed, she, in the most moth-ridden, poncho-esque piece of tapestry he’d ever seen, held closed round the middle with a rough leather belt. He pulled himself up to his feet, trying to hold himself together. As she raised her head, her eyes met his, and they stared at each other in shocked silence.

“What are you wearing??” he demanded in an accusing tone. Agaraesh groaned loudly and brought up her hands to ruffle her already tangled hair.

“It’s been a thousand or so years since I took human form, alright?? I liked it. I wanted to wear it!!”

“So you cut out a giant hole in a priceless piece of art??”

“Priceless??”

“You know those things hang in museums today, right??”

Agaraesh scoffed. “Yeah, well, they weren’t considered art where I got it from,” she shot back. She looked down with an arched brow at her garb and pulled at the front of it to get a better look, as much as the thin leather belt tied around her waist would allow. She got lost the images suddenly, eyes roving across the wovenwork, before quietly giggling and pointing at one figure being violently beheaded on her chest.

“Look! Look at that one! That one was always my favorite,” she barked in a strange and uneven, breathy laugh. She tried to hold it out for him to see, but he reared back, a look of mild disgust on his face.

“Listen.” he sighed, “Agar—“

Her face fell instantly and she stepped towards him, slamming her finger against his lips. “DON’T!!” she hissed.

He stared wide-eyed at her, critique of her appearance gone. She was unaware of the energy flaring off her, and he reeked suddenly of fear. This was a demon. A demon!! Her looks were made to be deceiving. And she was touching him. This wasn’t—

“Don’t say that name!” she continued, face pinched fury, but he couldn’t help but think it incomplete. How was she so—?

“If you say it,” she instructed slowly, “I go back.”

His breath stilled.

“Do you understand?”

Slowly, he nodded. She pulled her finger away from his lips and lowered her hand with a -pat- against her tapestry tabard, causing a decent-sized puff of dust and filth to billow out into the air. They watched it rise up and disperse out into the air together.

“Might be plague on that,” she muttered.

“What??”

“Where do you want these snakes?”

He stared at her, mouth agape, but when the idea of ‘plague’ blared across his mind again, he promptly shut it. “Snakes?” he finally echoed back.

“Yess, snakes,” she hissed at him with a sardonic look and a vigorous nod in their frozen direction. There was a small puddle forming beneath them. They were beginning to thaw.

He thought quickly. Biting his lip, he went over to the attic window and looked outside.

“See that kid?” he asked, pointing. Agaraesh tiptoed over and peered through the glass.

“That kid’s an asshole,” he fumed. “Give ‘em to him.”

The corner of her mouth twisted up. “You hate him that much?”

Gritting his teeth, he nodded. Her grin broadened as she looked him over. Taking a step closer, she peered up at him- God, humans have gotten tall!- and gifted him with a pointed smile.

“What do they call you?” she asked. He blinked down at her.

“Um…” he cleared his throat, “Kylo. They call me Kylo Ren.”

Agaraesh smirked. “Nobody calls you that.”

He frowned. “Maybe not, but you do,” he said with conviction, and Agaraesh looked over the stern set of his brow, the subtle movement of his lips, and the piercing nature of his eyes….no, he may not be a Skywalker by name, but he definitely was one by blood.

Rey tilted her head to the side. “Alright,” she said simply, and with a raise of her arm and a snap of her fingers, the wet pile of vipers was gone.

He startled- he did that easily, she thought- but soon recovered to look eagerly out the window again. His enemy’s mother was just pulling up in the driveway, arms full of paper bags brimming with groceries. Kylo and Agaraesh watched, heads together in the narrow window, as the mother called her son to help. With a roll of his eyes and a quiet insult, he stalked over and Agaraesh snickered. Finally, they made their way to the door.

“Where did you put them?” he asked quickly.

“Kitchen,” she replied with amusement.

“Perfect.”

His nails dug into the window frame as the key went into the lock, turned, the door opened. They both took in a breath as the two disappeared into the kitchen. There was a scream. A shriek. And a loud pounding as several things hit the floor. There was the sound of crockery breaking and plates smashing, as the mother, and shortly thereafter the son, came streaking out of the house in terror.

Kylo was beside himself, nearly doubled over in laughter. It was too good! Too rich!! Ohh, payback really was satisfying, regardless of what his uncle always said!! He looked on, through the tears, as the target stumbled now onto the driveway as his mother screamed again. He was clutching at his ankle.

“Uh-oh!” Agaraesh exclaimed in a sing-song voice. “Looks like somebody got bit!”

The boy was wailing out in the open, rolling around, and Agaraesh was wheezing as she bit into her finger from laughter. When the ambulance and several animal control vehicles pulled up, the show was over, and they turned around to slide back down the wall.

“OH my god, that was satisfying!” Kylo breathed, running his hands through his hair.

“God, had nothing to do with it,” she snickered.

“Oh right,” he corrected, feeling a bit embarrassed. “Sorry.”

Agaraesh shrugged. She stretched out her filthy bare feet in front of her, rolling them on her heels back and forth, watching the way her toes wiggled. It caught Kylo’s attention, too.

“So since I can’t call you A—“ he coughed, “I mean…the other name…..what can I call you?”

She sighed, giving one last longful look at her toes before turning to him. “Dunno,” she confessed. She paused, before her eyes lit up brilliantly, and he sort of smiled. “Some call me Rae.”

“Rey?” he repeated.

“Isn’t that what I said?”

Kylo grinned. He nodded. “Alright.”

[bffhreprise]

Entry 173

 My sisters were completely disrespectful, dragging me out to all manner of places and treating this Jarod as if he were worthy of our company.  I never had imagined that they’d fall so far as to openly display affection for a human.  Mother was not going to be pleased.

 I glanced at Jarod, disgusted by how he showed tiredness on his face after a mere night of frivolity.  He couldn’t keep up with them, and I would never approve of my sisters dating beneath themselves, even if he could make them smile.

 He also proved quite skilled at dancing and had a talent for languages.  I wished I could get a close look at his engine design to see if his work actually did deserve the merit its price suggested.

 James’ work, odd as it was, earned the respect of Lady Pendreigh.  When I left my home, I was still surprised that she would move to this country, even temporarily, but meeting James showed me a man of great worth.  He was obviously well-bred but made his own fortune, enough to have such a garish home.  The computer, Mila, was astounding.  My family’s companies couldn’t match her software, and I could only imagine the processing power behind such a machine.  Mother would be most interested.  My sisters told us far too little.

 I followed them into the gymnasium at the front of the wing they rented from James.  He was there, already making his employees train despite the early hour.  They all seemed most capable, showing good form as they followed his instruction.  Noticing us, he approached.

 “James, nii-san was curious how soon you’d be awake, since he was interested in sampling one of Marco’s breakfasts.” stated one of my sisters.

 I still grew irritated that they never bothered letting me know which was which.  Despite mother’s intentions, I knew the connection between them made the two inseparable.  Feeling everything the other did made any intimacy shared.  There could be no secrets between them.  They should show me respect enough to at least reveal to whom I was speaking when we did meet.  If I asked, they might lie.  They might tell the truth to throw me off as well.  There was no way to tell.  Yet James, they had revealed, knew some way.

 “Mila told us you were in here, so we just had to come watch.” insisted the other one, smiling at him.

 I might not have minded were they to gain James’ affections.  He seemed a man of great principle.

 James looked surprised as he said, “Oh.  Sorry, Duncan, but we need to fit practice in right now.  Brandon and Brenna” ― he gestured to the red-headed siblings ― “have work early today.

 Nodding, I told him “I like that you teach your employees discipline.  All four have excellent posture.  Too bad that one doesn’t seem to participate.”  I had looked over to Jarod as I spoke, appalled that he couldn’t even be bothered to train properly.

 “Jarod actually has a different teacher.  He’s quite…” started James.

 I interrupted him, saying, “What?  He can’t keep up with your class?”

 James wasn’t even working on any advanced techniques in here at the moment.

 “Jarod, get changed.” came a voice from behind me.

 I shivered, knowing the sound.  Aaliyah was here.

 “Nii-san, I hope you packed something fit for an exercise.” teased one of my sisters as she lightly touched my arm.

 “We wouldn’t want your clothes torn.” agreed the other.

 Their glee troubled me.

 “Well, this should be entertaining.” stated Lady Pendreigh, though no amusement showed on her face.  No interest either.  She seemed, as always, perfectly serene.

 What would be entertaining though?  I reasoned that they wanted me to fight Jarod, but how would that even be worth my time?

 Then Lady Pendreigh said, “You just insulted Aaliyah’s sole student in front of her.”

 Fear coursed through me.  I knew what was beyond that innocent child’s face.  I knew her true form and could never escape having seen it.  I dropped to the ground, bowing in dogeza style, as I adamantly apologized and prayed for my life.  She could take life at a whim, so disrespecting her was absolutely forbidden.  Why hadn’t my sisters warned me?

 “Rise and prepare.  I will tell my student to go easy on you.” she replied when I was finished.

 The child-like face and cheerful demeanor did nothing to ease my inner suffering.  Lady Pendreigh would not have even raised an eyebrow if had I been slain in front of her, too great was my mistake.

 As I dressed, I tried to ease my tension.  I was alive and possibly forgiven.  I could not argue with Aaliyah, but I felt insulted by her words.  No human was a match for me in any sense.  In my veins ran the blood of the great ones, a strength which has protected humanity for millennia.

 I hurried back, easily beating Jarod.  I watched James training his students, unwilling to risk a glance at her.  My sisters were blessed by their ignorance, all smiles and jokes.  Had they known what I knew, they would run in horror from this place.  How did James ever procure her help as a secretary?  He might be even more dangerous than he seems.

 When Jarod returned, James called his students to the side of the room, telling them to watch.  Jarod and I stepped to the center, facing one another.  He looked completely calm.  I never noticed his eyes before.  There was an intensity to him, an inner fire I had missed.  Still, I would end this quickly.

 I punched at his chest, intending to shatter his ribs.  He flowed around my first like he was made of water, slamming his fist into my throat.  I found myself falling to the ground, gasping for air.  How could a human hit with such strength!?  I took far longer to rise than I intended, but my breathing was off.  I felt bruised.

 When I rose, he was still standing there, completely calm.  I attacked faster to match my opponent’s speed.  I had underestimated him, but now I tested him.  I faked hit after hit, trying to find his weakness.  I couldn’t.  His skill was very impressive.  When he kicked at my head, I found my opening, so I kicked at his knee.

 Jarod jumped into the air, kicking me solidly in the head.  I needed more caution.  Time passed in a continuous stream of near hits as both of us danced around the other.  I wasn’t sure how much time has passed when I realized he was mocking me.  He hadn’t been trying to attack yet, just toying with me.

 In my rage, I attacked in full haste.  He anticipated my attack, slamming his palm precisely across my knee.  Through my rage, I felt the pain as my kneecap slid out of place.  I dropped instantly, screaming out in defeat.  The fight was over.  I had lost.

,,,^._.^,,,

  As nii-san clutched his leg, Jarod calmly bowed and walked away.  James was quick to go after him, probably worrying over something silly again.  Lady Pendreigh, my sister, and I hurried over to nii-san.

 “Nii-san, did you get a boo-boo?” I asked.

 “Want us to kiss it better?” teased Mai.

 “Out of the way, girls.  Your brother needs aid.” ordered Lady Pendreigh.

 “Hai!” we exclaimed, stepping to the side.

 “Isn’t that a bit harsh?” asked Emma.

 “What do you mean?” I replied.

 “Nii-san needs a little teasing.” insisted Mai.

 “I have to agree with Alma.  That’s like when one of you went all crazy on my leg.” claimed Brandon.  He grimaced as Lady Pendreigh repositioned nii-san’s knee.

 “Oh, soulless… you were fixed in seconds.” I told him.

 “Much to our despair.” teased Mai.

 “Duncan will probably take a couple days, but he’ll be fine.” stated Lady Pendreigh as she stood.

 :Our tips paid off!: exclaimed Mai.

 :Jarod’s execution was incredible.: I insisted.

 She didn’t argue.  Nii-san’s pride would take longer to heal than his leg.  He always did have a temper, and Jarod played it like a master musician.

 “How did you find my student?” asked Aaliyah.

 Nii-san grimaced before saying, “He is very formidable.  Please forgive my misguided insult.”

 “Nii-san, are you feeling okay?” asked Mai.

 “Obviously not.” he replied.

 “Oh.  I knew you couldn’t really mean to say something nice about Jarod.” I told him.

 “No, I did mean what I said.” he insisted.

 “If you’re crippled for life, do we get all of your stuff?” I teased.

 He laughed and said, “You two should show some sympathy for your brother.  I’m injured!”

 :James is back without Jarod.: pouted Mai, watching him come toward us.

 “Sorry for getting a little excited there.” apologized nii-san.  “It’s embarrassing to have so much trouble with a human.  I’ll have to thank him later.”

 “Thank him for what?” asked Jarod in shock.

 “For saving him from me.  Cheating is forbidden, especially when it puts someone so valuable at risk.” explained Lady Pendreigh.

 Nii-san’s humor died as he nodded, ashamed of his transgression.

 Aaliyah leaned close to him and giddily whispered “I didn’t appreciate you cheating either.”

 Lady Pendreigh actually laughed.

 My sister and I nearly laughed as well.  Nii-san’s somber expression was priceless!  He almost seemed scared.  The assassin was certainly dangerous, but she wasn’t going to kill him without a contract.  No one would be crazy enough to put a contract on him.  Mother would call in every favor she could seeking revenge.

 :She certainly doesn’t want us succeeding her.: teased Mai.

 We didn’t really care, not anymore.

 My sister and I pointed out “We did warn you, nii-san.”

 “No one around her is normal, even the humans.” expounded Mai.

 “James has a most interesting household.” I reiterated.

 Nodding, Lady Pendreigh said, “So you can tell your mother one of the reasons I’m here.”

 Nii-san attempted a smile, but he looked worried.  He quickly turned to Brandon and asked “What can you do?”

 Brandon smiled and caused his arms to grow in length and muscle mass, making him appear even more like the monkey he really was.

 Not wanting to be shown up, Brenna changed her hair to black while tanning her skin.

 “She thinks she’s only quasi-soulless.” I teased.

 Nii-san then turned to Portentia and asked “And you?”

 Shrugging, she told him “I’m invincible.”

 Nii-san laughed, but we frowned, knowing she healed far too fast.

 “That’s untested, but she does heal far more quickly than anyone else I’ve encountered.  She also mastered the staff well enough to keep up with your sisters in a week.” stated Lady Pendreigh.

 Our frown deepened.  She didn’t have to tell him that much.

 Nodding, nii-san told Portentia “Perhaps I can duel with you in a couple days after I’ve healed.”

 Without waiting for a reply, he turned to Emma and said, “I’ve heard remarkable things about you.  I would love getting a tour of the gardens if you don’t mind.”

 My sister and I sighed.  Mother was probably wanting to steal Emma away.  James wouldn’t have it if he were told.

 “Umm.. sure.  Okay.” replied Emma.

 :Emma’s not stupid.  She wouldn’t give up this to be mother’s tool.: stated Mai.

 :She’d be more interested in us anyways.  We’re more fun: I teased.

 :Oh!  Great idea!  You can chase after Emma while I take Jarod.: replied Mai in an equally teasing tone.

 If we swung that way, we might actually consider it.  We did enjoy Emma’s company, just not like that.

 James helped nii-san to his feet before saying, “If you’re still hungry, we usually eat in the kitchen, honestly, but we can eat in the dining hall if you’d prefer.”

 “As the saying goes, ‘when in Rome, do as the Romans do’.” replied nii-san.

 We each took one of his arms to help him along, but he started speaking to us in Japanese, asking us to help him court Emma.  The larger problem for us was that he claimed this was his own intent, not mother’s.  We were certain mother would approve if Emma could be persuaded.  Emma’s magic was potent and immensely useful, so mother would gladly claim her.  We didn’t really believe Emma would be interested and had no idea how to let nii-san know.  He was too enthusiastic about this.  Hopefully, Lady Pendreigh could help.