#but note that Keeper knows many more characters

[keeperthemultiversemom]

Poppy do you know any franks? I saw an librarian one before but i dont know if they have a way to talk like you do? Do you know them?? I only see eddies, julies and howdys around you

Tagging time

Featuring

Archivist : @ask-archivist-frank

Messenger

Courier : @ask-courier-eddie

Wayfinder ( @/bloomenvogel )

Faceless (@/angeladrewlol on twt)

Admin : @ask-admin-julie

Observer : @ask-observer-wally

Shopkeeper (@/cosmic-meteorites )

Trader : @asking-trader-howdy

Timelord (@/kimuarts on twt)

Scripter : @apileofscripts

Filante : @sillyshootingstar

Watcheye : @thewatchfuleyebelow

[yanderecrazysie]

Twisted Zoo: Chapter 11

Prologue (beginning): here

Previous Chapter: here

Next Chapter: here

Note: THE TAGS BROKE AGAIN, I'M SO SORRY!

This is based on the stories of a keeper reader with the octotrio by @ashensgrotto and @merakiui

Also @twistedcece @cenatour @xiaopleasecomehome @bearshideout @koebishrimpuwu @vash-yuu @twstsandturns @help-whatdoimakemyusername @secret-potion @magmdnv @sunshine-for-serotonin @the-ace-reader @mel-star636 @silkkorchid @pamv11 @coffee-or-hot-cocoa @hrhqueenfox @goseew @luxthestrange @juno-of-wonderland @who-mst @despairingy-obsessed @lanxianschoenheit @ceramic-raven @m0063576 @kimdourden @rammylog @sushiperson @starshiningsirius @im-here-for-the-fun-of-it @the-monochrome-jester @owodi @girl-nahh-two @obeythehuman @berry-efoy @ivorette @the-broken-truth @losingmybrain @sxftiebee @queens-unheard-thoughts @medicine-san @strugglingsleeper @asdorlia @nightskylark @cashmerek @rocketstyx and @ryovel wanted to be tagged! Let me know if anyone else wants to be tagged for future chapters. If you no longer want to be tagged, please tell me! (I have removed the tags that weren’t working for me, apologies if yours was removed!)

Summary: You’re a brand new zookeeper at The Halfling Zoo- a place where half-animals live in captivity. Your job is simple- feed them and study them. Your main worry is that one of the more dangerous halflings might kill you. 

Unfortunately, that may become the least of your worries.

WARNINGS: yandere themes

Note: All characters are aged up, since there will be mature themes in future parts.

Also, I can’t promise I’ll finish this. I suck at finishing stories.

NOTE 2: Sorry that it took over a month to write this, but I needed inspiration + my new job is kicking my butt. It’s pretty short and bad but I didn’t have a lot of inspiration.

—-------------------------------------------------------

You were on your way to the birds’ enclosure when you heard your name being called. You turned around to see Crowley making his way towards you, one arm raised to flag you down. You hurried over to him.

“Yes, Mr. Crowley?”

As you drew closer, you could see the concern on his face. 

“I need you to come with me,” he said softly, leading the way to the aviary. You nodded and followed him, worry starting to consume you.

“Is everything okay?” you asked.

Mr. Crowley led you around to a side of the aviary you hadn’t been to before- a side that faced neither the employee entrance nor the zoo visitors. It took only a few seconds to realize why he had led you there.

The metal enclosure had been dented outwards, as though a lot of force had been applied to it from the inside. The seams were starting to split apart, artificial light from inside the enclosure peeking through the cracks. It looked like an elephant had been body-slamming the aviary’s walls.

“Wha- what happened?” you asked, stunned.

“We’ve had some… incidents recently. All of the halflings have been acting up more than usual and, as you can see, there’s been some damage to the aviary’s metal dome.”

“But the birds are so well-behaved!” you protested in shock.

“That’s the thing,” Mr. Crowley said gravely, “It seems to happen after your visits. The halflings become… agitated when you aren’t around.”

You couldn’t believe that the gentle, friendly birds had caused this kind of damage to a metal enclosure. And because of you? It was almost unthinkable.

“I don’t understand,” you said in a near whisper, “Why would they do this?”

Mr. Crowley sighed wearily, “Halflings form strong bonds, that’s why we have so many bonded species at this zoo. They will especially latch on to anyone who shows them true kindness. You clearly mean a lot to them and your absence upsets them.”

“I didn’t mean to cause any trouble,” you said, a pang of guilt tugging at your heartstrings.

“I know, and I don’t blame you,” Mr. Crowley reassured you, “But we need to find a solution.”

“Do you have any ideas?” you asked.

Mr. Crowley went silent and avoided eye contact. A thrill of apprehension shot up your spine but you willed it away. Mr. Crowley would never put you in danger, right?

“For now, just continue as normal,” Mr. Crowley replied, “We’ll work on fixing the enclosure.”

You nodded and the zoo director dismissed you with a careless wave. You hurried to the enclosure’s employee entrance and were disturbed to hear, instead of the usual quiet, the sounds of squawks and hoots and other cries. 

You stepped inside and were surprised by the scene you were met with. The halflings were clearly distressed: pacing in their cages and looking around wildly, feathers fluffed up in agitation. Even calm-and-collected Vil looked ruffled.

“Guys? Are you alright?” you called out softly.

Ace was first to respond, “Where were you?” he demanded to know, voice tinged with panic, “You’re late! You’ve never been late before!”

“I’m sorry, Ace,” you said, trying to sound as soothing as possible, “I was talking to Mr. Crowley about some… problems with the enclosure.”

Ace’s eyes narrowed dangerously, “Problems? What problems?”

“It’s nothing to worry about,” you said, feeling a little nervous by the intensity of his gaze. Glancing around, you could see that every bird halfling had their eyes trained on you.

Trey flew from his birdhouse to his perch, landing gracefully on the wooden perch and fixing you with a stern glare and saying, “You can’t disappear.”

You nodded, trying to calm them all down, “I understand. It won’t happen again.”

Vil stepped forward, his beautiful feathers out of place and ruffled. His eyes were narrowed and he was frowning as though disappointed in you, “You always leave us.”

You were overwhelmed by all of their intense gazes and you felt a lump form in your throat. “I’m here as often as I can be.”

Epel looked up at you with watery eyes, “We worry when you leave. Not safe out there.”

You forced a gentle smile to your lips, “I’m perfectly safe. And I’m here now. Let’s all calm down everyone, okay?”

Slowly, the halflings relaxed. Rook stopped pacing, Vil smoothed his feathers, and Trey flew back into his bird house. Even though the tension had mostly disappeared, the underlying worry and hint of possessiveness remained.

You turned to Deuce, who hadn’t spoken yet, but instead looked at you wistfully. “Are you doing okay, Deuce?” you asked.

Deuce’s eyes softened, but the troubled frown remained on his face, “I’m fine,” his voice was strained, “I missed you.”

Your heart ached, “I missed you too,”

Ace piped up in an annoyed tone, “Why can’t you just stay here with us?”

You blinked in surprise, “I have a life outside the zoo. I’m sorry, but I can’t stay here.”

It was Cater’s turn to speak, and the expression he gave you made your stomach twist unpleasantly, “You’re too good to stay with us halflings, mademoiselle? We do not have a life outside this zoo, but we deserve that, don’t we?”

“Wh-what? Of course not!” you spluttered.

“Then stay!” Epel whined, a tear sliding down his cheek.

“I- I can’t,” your voice came out in a whisper. You shook yourself and turned around, heading for the staff door,  “I’ll go get your meals…”

There was an eerie silence as you passed out their meals. Each of the halflings took their salads and set them aside, their appetites gone. The tension in the air was so thick you thought you might choke on it.

Finally, the time came for you to leave. As you turned towards the staff door, a hand grabbed the back of your shirt. You turned in surprise to find Riddle outside his enclosure, his pink feathers standing on end.

“Promise… you’ll come back.” Riddle choked out, fighting back tears.

You turned to him and gave him a gentle smile before pulling him into a hug. “Of course I’ll come back.”

“Promise!” he demanded.

“I promise.”

With the way they all looked at you, with victory and possessiveness, you halfway wondered if you had sold your soul with that promise.

[ghoulfuckersincorporated]

feeling veryyyy normal thinking about being offered as part of bounty to the ghoul because the bounty poster doesn’t end up having the caps they promised him. and they need to pay him somehow. they’ll offer him their lil captive vaultie as payment for the rest. 👉🏻👈🏻 will he accept?🫣

A Fair Trade

Pairing: Cooper Howard/The Ghoul x Female Reader

Word Count: 3,980

Warnings: smut (18+), p in v sex, oral (m receiving), creampie, sex as payment for debt, human trafficking typical of the Fallout universe.

Summary: The Ghoul always gets what's owed to him.

Notes: Oh, wow! My first submission-type ask! I'm genuinely super flattered and totally open to doing more. I initially ballparked that this would be around 2,500 words and it ended up almost 4,000 because I have no self control when it comes to this man. I will try to keep other submissions a little shorter, generally, to hopefully get them out quicker.

To the anon: This may have turned out...sweeter than you may have envisioned? Maybe that's not the word. Less rough? If so, my apologies! I hope you still enjoy.

Things had been...unfortunate for you since you had decided to leave your vault.

Looking for a taste of something new, chasing the feeling that the world had other things for you to experience, you had managed to make it to the nearest settlement of any import with only a few scrapes and bruises. But, regrettably, you lacked a true understanding of how cruel and selfish people on the surface could be, and you quickly ended up the captive of some random outpost runner.

Well, you'd been traded to the outpost runner. You still weren't quite sure how that had come about, even after weeks and weeks had passed, but, frankly, the scrawny, dirty man was a lot less scary than the guy who had initially captured you. He wasn't not scary by any means (no one up here really was, as far as you could tell); he still confiscated your things and locked you into the small room in the back that you were fairly confident was intended to be a closet every night, but he hadn't really done anything to hurt you so far. You were given a pillow, at least.

But you were growing increasingly uneasy with not knowing what his plans for you were. Worst case scenario, you guessed, he could kill and eat you like you'd heard some surface people did, but that didn't seem to be the case. Nevertheless, the way he eyeballed you, "accidentally" brushed against you with increasing frequency, made you uneasy. Maybe he'd bought you to be his wife, or whatever the Wasteland equivalent would be. You imagined that in the next few weeks he'd offer you more favorable sleeping accommodations...so long as you shared them with him.

Maybe you could accept, kill him in his sleep and flee. You really didn't treasure the idea of ending someone's life, but...you needed to get out of here, and soon.

The sound of the creaky, rusted front door hinges flexing drew your attention, distracting you from your bloody ruminations and the pile of scrap you'd been sorting through. The front office hadn't been loud, but the small murmur of voices instantly faded, a clatter of movement towards the door, followed by some very familiar sounding footfalls. He was back.

The tall, noseless, rad-ravaged man made his way in multiple times a month, sometimes even multiple times a week when the bounties were easy and the work was plentiful. You'd seen each other somewhat often the past few weeks, as your keeper had begun to allow you to clean and assist in the front of the office more and more. It was both better and worse; the days passed with less tedium and you got to see some of the interesting characters the desert produced. However, many of those characters sized you up with predatory eyes, as if they were estimating how many caps they could sell your flesh for in their heads. The ghoul had yet to give you that feeling, interestingly enough.

You'd heard whispers all over town about him, about all the things he'd apparently done, how he was supposedly hundreds of years old. You didn't believe that for a single second. After all, despite his fascinatingly gruesome appearance, he was just a man, wasn't he? A man with very advanced radiation sickness (and a rather unfriendly general disposition), but a man nonetheless.

Sometimes, you felt as if he was certainly looking at you the way a man would. You were unsure, frankly; social etiquette was so vastly different on the surface than it was at home. It sure seemed like he let his eyes linger on you, on your body. Perhaps he was simply curious about you, as you were about him; most people seemed afraid to even look his way, or too disgusted by his condition to even consider it.

"You wanna run that by me again?"

Your ears pricked up instantly at the tone in the ghoul's voice, your heckles raising as you sensed trouble. Tiptoeing towards the door to the front room, you stood as close as you dared, shoulder touching the rotting door frame as you listened in.

"I told you, we were robbed a few nights ago. I don't have the full payment for you right now. This is everything I've got."

You knew your keeper was lying, about the robbery, at least; the place was so small that if anyone had been in to steal anything, you'd have certainly known about it. Whether or not he really had the caps, you didn't know, but you supposed he didn't, figuring that he wouldn't take the risk of pissing off the ghoul if he did. You had overheard him discussing gambling on a few occasions.

"Well, you better find something to make me whole, quick." came the ghoul's acidic reply.

On some level, you understood his frustration. The work was done, the bounty delivered. Un-delivering it wouldn't make up for all the time he'd put in. But, you also knew his reputation for being unforgiving, and you felt a chill run up your spine as you began to fear that he would kill your keeper and you if he didn't find some sort of satisfaction soon.

"I don't have anything worth anything. I told you, this is all I have." the scrawny man shot back, trying to sound confident, tough.

However, based on the way his voice trembled and faltered, the uneasy way he cleared his throat, you suspected the ghoul knew he was lying, too, confirmed only a moment later by what you were certain was the sound of a gun thwish-ing out of its holster and cocking. Your heart flew up into your throat, hammering even harder when, a second later, the lighter sounds of the scrawny man's footsteps rapidly approached the door of the back office. Scrambling back towards the desk, you'd only closed about half the distance when the door flew open, the man grabbing at you almost blindly, his long, dirty nails digging into your exposed wrist as he dragged you, protesting, out behind the counter.

"Hey!" you hissed, trying your best to snatch your arm back out of his grip and failing, infuriatingly. You were momentarily blinded with outrage that he would offer your body to someone to cover his own debts, though you supposed that was just how people did things in this awful place. Your eyes, feeling like they could pop out of your head they were so wide, flew to the man on the other side of the counter, who was assessing you with a look you couldn't read.

"What about her?" the scrawny man asked, and that was the final straw. If things were going to get worse for you, you weren't just going to accept it with a smile. The fingers on your free hand curled into a fist, which you smashed into the side of his face, causing him to release your arm in shock. Almost instantly, he jerked towards you, but the Ghoul pointed the modified pistol in his hand further into his face, stopping him.

"Now, how're you gonna offer me merchandise and then try to damage it in front of me?" he said, speaking to the man, but not looking at him. He was still looking at you, an intrigued glint in his eyes. They were...pretty, actually. Warm and golden brown. Was he really thinking about taking the offer? You'd be lying if you said you weren't curious about what his body would be like underneath all the layers of clothing. However, the entire situation had your walls up high, your whole body trembling slightly.

The Ghoul stepped slowly around the counter towards you; the scrawny man shrunk away, the gun still pointed in his direction, while you held your ground, doing your best to keep your head held high as he stepped right into your bubble, your chests almost touching as he seemed to really size you up. After a moment of incredibly tense silence, his eyes moved to the door, then back to yours. Slowly, he lowered the gun.

"Alright. C'mon, Vaultie." he said simply, turning on one foot to make his way back to the other side of the counter. You hesitated, but soon moved to stand beside him, a surreal feeling washing over you.

"Hey! No fucking way, man! You can't just take her for keeps. She's worth way more caps than I owe you!"

The man was even more red-faced than usual, his tone downright indignant, but he didn't step out from behind the counter to follow.

"Ah, but, see, once we factor in the interest on my missed payment, hurt and suffering, on top of my 'you're a dumbshit' fee...I think it's a wash, personally." the Ghoul replied, leaning back over the counter into the man's dirt-speckled face. He clearly wasn't in a place of strength to negotiate, and his angry gaze moved to you again before he rolled his eyes and shook his head.

"What the fuck ever." he grunted.

You felt your body relax noticeably as the bulk of the conflict seemed to pass. However, there was a small amount of unfinished business you wanted to address before you left this place. You crossed your arms, turning your narrowed eyes to your former keeper, feeling emboldened with the Ghoul standing at your back.

"Where's my bag you took from me?"

Soon, you were back in possession of your things, including your Pip Boy, which you fretted over as you and your new keeper set out the door and into the desert heat. As you walked, you flexed the sore fingers on your hand absentmindedly. Soon, you were pouring sweat, pausing briefly to peel the top half of your vault suit down to your waist, tying the sleeves around you hips. The Ghoul appraised you silently as you did, taking a hit off of an inhaler from his pocket before continuing on.

As grateful as you were to be away from the trading outpost, away from the scrawny man and his uneasy ways, you couldn't help but worry in the back of your mind, fret at the possibility that you were going somewhere worse. It was being too trusting that got you into your situation to begin with. You worried at your lip with your teeth as he began to direct you down the road, his hand flat and firm between your shoulders. You weren't sure if the gesture was intended to be one of comfort, or if he was simply ready to snatch you up by the back of your vault suit if you decided to try to run.

The two of you walked in complete silence in the direction of the setting sun for what felt like a hundred miles. In truth, your Pip Boy revealed that you'd only gone a single mile and some change when the sun fully dipped behind the horizon, granting some blessed relief from the sweltering heat. You kept on a while longer, until the stars began to appear; eventually, the man veered from the decrepit highway, steering you to a little alcove in the rocky hillside, barely big enough to be a coyote's den.

"Alright, we'll bed down here for the night. Gettin' too dark to keep walkin'." he said, dropping his bag on the ground in a little cloud of dust as he turned to survey the site suspiciously.

You stood waiting for him to direct you, your fingers wrapped tight around the straps of your backpack, watching as he checked around wordlessly. After a few minutes, you chose one of the flatter rocks around and sat against it, watching as he built a small fire, inhaling some of the rations that had been hid away in your bag. Eventually, the ghoul threw himself down on the other side of the flames, facing the highway, and did the same, tucking into something canned from his bag. Things were quiet for a while, but eventually he spoke to you again, his voice pulling you away from fidgeting with with your Pip-Boy.

"Y'know, you're insanely lucky he didn't sell that thing. Can get quite a bit for a functional one these days. Moron didn't know what he had." he said, still chewing.

You blinked at him, your eyes flitting between the gadget on your arm and him, unsure how to respond. Briefly, you felt a growing sense of apprehension, but he must've sensed it, as he rolled his eyes and sighed softly as he swallowed.

"I'm just sayin' you're lucky you still have it, kid. Don't piss your pants. Trust me, if I wanted that thing, I'd have taken it from you already." he said, tossing the now-empty can over his shoulder.

You nodded silently, willing the tension out of your spine as you watched him dig around inside the oiled leather saddle bag once more. He produced a silver flask and a canteen, taking long pulls off of one, then the other. He then took another drag off of the inhaler he'd been puffing as you walked. Eventually, he stood, gave his back a stretch, and shrugged the long, tattered duster from his shoulders, splaying it out quickly on the ground behind him before turning back to face you.

"Alright, darlin'. Get your little ass over here."

You felt yourself freeze almost completely, your head turning sharply towards him. He hadn't said anything about the initial deal for so long that you weren't sure he was actually interested.

"What? I accepted you in lieu of payment. That means you are the payment, sweetheart. And I do intend to collect." he said, plainly amused, sinking down to the ground, his back sliding against the red rock behind him. "Besides, I've seen the way you look at me. Don't pretend you're not curious."

Your cheeks instantly felt agonizingly hot; had you been that obvious in your interest in him? Every day, something new in this place made you feel so silly, so naive. But, at the same time...he wasn't wrong. He might be rough-looking overall, but he'd been kind to you so far, and he did have quite a nice build. Besides, it had been weeks since you'd felt sufficiently alone enough to masturbate. A tad awkwardly, you went to lift yourself to walk to him when he cut you off.

"Mmm. How about you crawl?"

You felt your face twist into a mask of indignant confusion, and he chuckled. Hesitating, you made measured eye contact with him over the flames, quickly realizing, as those mischievous eyes glinted back at you, that he was serious. You swallowed hard, pulling yourself slowly onto your hands and knees before crawling the half-circle around the small fire as quickly and as dignified as possible, though there felt like there was very little dignity in it anyway. You stopped at his feet, kneeling with your hands on your thighs and looking up at him, trying your hardest to not seem as nervous as you felt.

"Take your shirt off." he ordered, head tilted as he watched you quickly pull the grimy undershirt over your head, tossing it near your bag. The night air was cool on your bare breasts, your sensitive nipples quickly peaking into hard little nubs that stung slightly. You wanted to press your warm palms to them, soothe the ache, but you didn't want him to think you were trying to cover yourself, so you simply sat, staring again, waiting for further instructions.

He grinned at you, leaning forward into your space, his gloved fingers stroking along your jaw, sliding a single one under your chin to lift your eyes fully to his. They were just as pretty glinting in the dying firelight as they had been in the outpost office.

"Y'know, you take direction pretty well, Vaultie. I like that in a lady." he said, tone low and conspiratory.

Your entire face burned now, even your eyes feeling hot, but that fire spread its way down into your core, blooming between your thighs, and you shifted slightly to press them together harder.

Reaching down, he made quick work of the belt holding up his pants and his fly, tugging free a cock that was about as red as the rest of him, the bulbous head glistening with precum already in the yellow-orange glow of the fire. Your tongue darted out to swipe at your lower lip, and you crawled up his legs to look closer. The Ghoul seemed surprised, leaning back ever so slightly from you as you came near, giving you room to move close and wrap your hand around him, drawing out a long hiss from between his yellowed teeth.

"Right on it, eh?" he chuckled almost breathlessly. "I like that in a lady, too."

You shot him a bit of a chastising look as you began to work your hand up and down over him, your free fingers coming to play along the weeping slit of him, earning another groan. He was a pretty average length for his height, you thought, but thick and already almost completely hard. It didn't seem like it would take much work to get him the rest of the way there. Your musings were interrupted by the feeling of his leather glove brushing against the swell of your breast before encaging the whole thing in his palm, massaging almost reverently. You whimpered when he plucked at your other nipple, sending shocks down your spine and straight to your already throbbing clit.

"Let's see what that pretty mouth is good for, hmm?"

Embarrassingly, you immediately dropped your head, pushing your body flat so you were sort of lying between his spread legs, bringing your lips down to hover a few inches above his leaking cock head. Tongue darting out to lap up a little taste of the shiny slickness there, you hummed; he tasted different than you were expecting, sort of the same, but with an almost metallic edge. You ran your tongue in a full circle around his tip, clenching around nothing when he groaned throatily, his right hand sliding through the dirt beside him.

"Fuck." he spat out when you unhinged your jaw, allowing the first few inches of him to fill your mouth, wrapping your lips around the head and sucking hard as your left hand continued to work the base of him. More and more precum leaked from the slit as you tongued at it, the taste and the knowledge that you were arousing to him making you rub your thighs together shamelessly.

"Play with your pussy." he commanded, clearly struggling to keep his tone even. Beneath you, you could feel his hips rocking almost imperceptibly. He didn't need to tell you twice; you could already tell you'd soaked through your underwear as you wrestled your hand down into your pants, pushing the wet gusset aside to rub tight circles around your swollen bud, moaning around his cock at the feeling.

The sound seemed to really turn him on, one of his hands suddenly moving to fist into your hair, the slight pain at the roots making you throb. His other hand came to cup your jaw again, holding you in place as he fully fucked his hips up into your waiting mouth, cussing under his breath as you continued to push yourself closer to orgasm. He kept you like that for a few long minutes, your neck cramping slightly by the time his thumb reached down, wiping away some drool that was dribbling down your chin. Bleary eyed, you looked up at him pleadingly. His answer was a wicked chuckle, his grin less of a smile and more a predator bearing his teeth.

"Blowin' a ghoul turn you on that much, cutie? What would the other vaulties think?" he tutted, shaking his head. "I think it's time you get on my cock."

Blushing hard at his little taunt, you could feel his burning gaze as you pulled yourself back up into a sitting position, tugging your boots off and setting them aside before shimmying the suit the rest of the way off, along with your underwear. A shiver broke down your spine as a small breeze hit you, your fire pretty much nothing but glowing embers now. However, when you pulled yourself back onto his lap, sighing as you ground your wet slit against his erection, you found that he was pleasantly warm feeling, bringing your hands up to his chest so you could lean over just enough to reach between you and position his cock at your entrance.

Too afraid of injuring yourself to attempt to take him all in one move, you instead opted to sink down onto the head, wriggling your hips before pulling them back up, then sinking down again, gently bouncing yourself down onto him. The man beneath you was tense, his hands kneading at your breasts as he huffed and hissed his way inside you. By the time you'd worked yourself most of the way down onto him, his hands moved to your hips, gripping them deliciously tight as you bobbed up and down on his length. For as cocky as he'd been before, he was pretty clearly struggling to keep his cool now.

One of your hands moved up from his chest, leaving you unsteadily balancing on one hand as the other pinched your nipple the same way he had before, making you cry out like a wounded animal. He must've liked that, as well, as his hands immediately yanked you the rest of the way down onto him, your ass resting flush against his hips. You repeated the sound again, higher, more strangled as he sat so deep inside you, the fat tip of him strumming away at something amazing right behind your belly button. It was too dark to make out much of anything, but you could feel the way his body twitched and bucked beneath you, strung tight as a bow.

The Ghoul's hands were digging deep into the fat of your hips, so hard you knew you'd bruise, restricting your movement, forcing you to swivel and grind your hips against him, the angle putting delicious friction on your poor aching clit and pushing you closer and closer to the edge. Your body began to clench around him rhythmically, and his hand quickly appeared on your clit in the dark, rubbing surprisingly deft stripes up and down the puffy flesh until you were suddenly gasping for air, trembling hard against his chest as he fucked up into your heat roughly, sloppily, the hand that wasn't on your clit slapping you hard on the ass. Suddenly, he let out a long, low groan, and you could feel the hot throbbing of him pumping his cum inside you, his hips stuttering as you let yourself slump halfway against him. There was a sudden metallic taste in your mouth. For several long moments, there were no sounds but your co-mingled harsh breaths and sound of the wind swirling the sand across the foothills.

After you'd finally caught your breath, you made a move to extract yourself from him. He promptly stopped you, flipping you onto your back, the smell of the duster's rich leather curling in around you as he kept grinding his hips into your overstimulated cunt. It drew an embarrassing squeal from you, hands flying to his chest once more before being rather playfully batted away.

"Oh, no, sweetheart. Nice as that was, your buddy owed me quite a bit of money. I think you'll be paying me back in installments." he growled in your ear, one hand moving around to give your ass a firm squeeze as you gave another clench around him. Your mind, foggy with sex, wandered to the Radaway still stashed in your bag.

It was going to be a long night.

[runin-reads]

James/Lily vs James/Sirius: a case of accidental queer coding

Jily (James/Lily) is a pairing central to the HP universe in the sense that had they not been married, Harry Potter, the main character, would cease to exist and neither would his story as we know it. Yet we are left with only a few brief glimpses of their relationship in canon whilst other pairings are textually far more fleshed out– take Prongsfoot (James/Sirius), for example, who are frequently portrayed as The Duo, not just by those closest to them (Lupin) but by many others too such as McGonagall, Flitwick and so on. Harry himself could see how close they were during SWM in OOTP and this is someone who had a very limited time with Sirius and close to none with James. 

Queercoding is described as “the subtextual coding of a character in media as queer. Though such a character's sexual identity may not be explicitly confirmed within their respective work, a character might be coded as queer through the use of traits and stereotypes recognisable to the audience.” One character comes to mind when I think of “queercoding” and that’s Sirius Black. He’s estranged from his family, goes against the norms associated with his upbringing, there’s no mention of any ex-girlfriends and most notably he has intense love and devotion for his male best friend; James Potter.  At first glance, James had led an incredibly hetero-normative life by virtue of his wife and son, but through his relationship to Sirius there’s leeway to reach a queer reading of him as well. 

As recognised by countless characters and even Sirius himself, Prongsfoot come in a two-for-one deal:

“Do you remember who his best friend was?”  “Naturally,” said Madam Rosmerta, with a small laugh. “Never saw one without the other, did you? The number of times I had them in here — ooh, they used to make me laugh. Quite the double act, Sirius Black and James Potter!”  “Black and Potter. Ringleaders of their little gang. Both very bright, of course — exceptionally bright, in fact…”  “You’d have thought Black and Potter were brothers!” chimed in Professor Flitwick. “Inseparable!” 

The use of the word “brothers” in the above quote is one reason why fans don’t interpret Prongsfoot as queer-coded and/or romantic. However, it’s important to note that Sirius never referred to James as a brother, and there’s no canonical proof to suggest that Flitwick was close to James and Sirius– he was their teacher, not their friend or confidant. He isn’t calling them “brothers” either but rather he’s saying that word to express how strong their bond was. Hence why I believe an exclusively fraternal reading of their relationship doesn’t hold much weight. 

They are, however, established as each other’s closest friend and most trusted confidant. 

“Harry had the distinct impression that Sirius was the only one for whom James would have stopped showing off.” “Potter trusted Black beyond all his other friends. Nothing changed when they left school. Black was the best man when James married Lily. Then they named him godfather to Harry.  “I persuaded Lily and James to change to Peter at the last moment, persuaded them to use him as Secret-Keeper instead of me.”  “Lily and James only made you Secret-Keeper because I suggested it,” Black hissed

On multiple occasions James and Sirius were described as a unit– The Unit– within their friend group. Lupin said they were “the cleverest students in the school.” They were the “ringleaders” of the Marauders; always on the same page and in agreement with each other.

“Then, with identical fluid movements, they reached into their back pockets.” 

Even during their very first encounter, they quickly and effortlessly become a team. 

“Got a problem with that?”  “No,” said Snape, though his slight sneer said otherwise. “If you’d rather be brawny than brainy–” “Where’re you hoping to go, seeing as you’re neither?” interjected Sirius.  James roared with laughter.

This excerpt from DH also neatly sums up the Marauders group dynamic:

“To Sirius’s right stood Pettigrew, more than a head shorter, plump and watery-eyed, flushed with pleasure at his inclusion in this coolest of gangs, with the much-admired rebels that James and Sirius had been. On James’s left was Lupin, even then a little shabby-looking, but he had the same air of delighted surprise at finding himself liked and included” 

Lily herself acknowledged Sirius’ importance in James’ life in her letter to Sirius, where she all but says that only he could lift James’ mood whilst the Potters’ were hiding from Voldemort’s forces. 

“James is getting a bit frustrated shut up here, he tries not to show it but I can tell — also, Dumbledore’s still got his Invisibility Cloak, so no chance of little excursions. If you could visit, it would cheer him up so much.” 

On the other hand, Jily is portrayed in a less compelling way for lack of better words. I spoke about this in my other meta but to summarise it briefly: Lily is James’ wife, the mother of his son and… that’s pretty much it. In the books they’re barely spoken about as a couple, unlike Prongsfoot who are always mentioned together as if they were a package deal– which they were, as recognised by practically everyone. That’s not to say Jily has zero textual backing, though it is far and few between.

“How come she married him?” Harry asked miserably. “She hated him!”  “Nah, she didn’t,” said Sirius.  “She started going out with him in seventh year,” said Lupin.  “Once James had deflated his head a bit,” said Sirius.  “And stopped hexing people just for the fun of it,” said Lupin. 

Conclusion

What we do know about James and Lily’s relationship is limited to the following: Lily disliked James because he and Snape were enemies, James developed feelings for her first, they began dating in seventh year once James had matured, they got married when they were nineteen to twenty years old, had a child together. The end. 

On the contrary, James and Sirius are constantly implied to be each other’s closest, most loyal friend; each other’s most trusted confidant. They are equals in every conceivable way. Both were popular, from wealthy backgrounds  and intelligent. Throughout the entire series Sirius’ only priority was Harry, James’ son. He went through unfathomable lengths to protect Harry: he was the first to escape Azkaban, he snuck into Hogwarts with all the dementors around and lived off rats during the GOF so he could be close to Harry, the last piece of James he had left. 

There’s also evidence to suggest Sirius was a narrative parallel to Snape. There are two adults in Harry’s life who sought to protect him due to their respective relationships with one of his parents. Snape was a double agent for Dumbeldore out of love for Lily; Sirius escaped Azkaban to protect Harry out of love for him, an extension of his love for James. 

All these factors are  why I believe that by not fleshing out Lily as a character and Jily as a couple, JKR accidentally queer-coded Prongsfoot. 

[alleycatchitchat]

TROLLS BAND TOGETHER SPOILERS

SO I WATCHED TROLLS BAND TOGETHER!!! MANY FEELINGSS! INCOHERENT!!!

I have SO much to say and think about this movie (positive) buuut I need a few days, or maybe weeks, to process... but I made some notes while watching just to chronicle the emotional journey I was experiencing, and wanted to share! There are SPOILERS here, please PLEASE do not read if you don't want to see spoilers!!

Ready? Ok:

"Let's play some rummy! But I won't let you win, because I play for the money" i think im in love

BRIDGET WEDDING JUMPSUIT FUCK YEAH 😭😭

"I can't remember all my suitors, Grissie" yes you go girl. you're powerful and amazing and people love you, don't ever forget it

apparently poppy casually refers to branch as her boyfriend and that's normal now. i'm (choke) gonna need (sob) gonna need a minute here guys

love that floyd signs his letters "the sensitive one" like yeah babe pretty sure your brother knows who you are no need to specify

sweet dreams IS featured in this movie!! omg im so happy you have no idea. i saw somewhere that velvet and veneer performed that song and it's my favorite ever and i was SO freaking excited to see it featured in one of my favorite franchises but i couldn't find it when the soundtrack came out so i thought it was fake but its not im so happy

peppy how many more dark secrets are you hiding?? he was so straightforward in the first movie but now it looks like he's just gonna keep pulling bigger and weirder hidden drama out of his sleeve as the franchise progresses. not necessarily a complaint just something i noticed

floyd is branch's favorite brother CONFIRMED

floyd! the sass!! ok he's DEFINITELY related to branch and also i think i love him

FLOYD SWEETHEART BABYGIRL DONT BE SAD I CANT HANDLE THAT

“Branch? One word. KEEPER”

Wait but how can floyd be my favorite brozone member when bruce is also so wonderful

I can also totally see the family resemblance between branch and bruce when they simp over their girls

I KNEW peppy was gonna be talking to mr dinkles i knew it i knew it

Also just so happy to see them acknowledge the events of the original movie. Don’t think bridget and gristle were even in TWT?? And the trolls’ history with the bergens in HUGE, and something that they shouldn’t have just written out of the story like that

They’re going to FLUSH floyd?????

Yes clay grandma got eaten try to keep up

Floyd and branch hugging THROUGH the glass is everything i ever wanted and also killing me slowly and painfully

I mean i guess its diamond not glass but you get the idea

“Its fine. we’re not gonna press charges”

Anna is unfrozen with the power of sisterly love but short, male, and blue

Do i like veneer now? What’s happening?

Wow. branch has come a long way since the first troll movie, and i didn’t know how to feel abut that because i was so nostalgic, but seeing him happy and confident like this makes me feel so at peace. yess i know he’s a fictional children’s character what of it

[fiendforbyler]

wait y’all i just realised something that is probably niche as fuck but anyway! if you know/have read the Keeper of the Lost Cities series in it’s entirety you will understand the relationship/love triangle between sophie, fitz and keefe. from the beginning fitz is set up at sophie’s love interest, even as young kids (i believe she is 12 in the first book? and he is maybe a year older? not 100% it’s been a while). she crushed on him for majority of the series and finally in book 7/8 they get together with a seemingly very romantic gesture from fitz, with many hints during the series that fitz liked her back. point is: we were all rooting for them. it is imprtant to note that it’s also always been hinted at but later in the series confirmed that keefe has major feelings for sophie as well. for me, this is representative of mike/el/will love triangle, with sophie being mike, keefe being will, and fitz being el. now, i don’t really like fitz but i LOVE el so yeah this isn’t a flawless comparison but ANYWAY back to my main point!! keefe (will) is so likeable with a tragic backstory, troubling plot line, has a lot of trauma AND a sorry crush on a girl (boy) who (supposedly) has eyes only for one person since the beginning- something that has been clearly set up and formed into a seemingly sweet relationship readers have been rooting for from the beginning. yeah this is sounding familiar? here’s the problem (or solution for sophkeefe/byler shippers like i): ITS NOT WHAT SOPHIE THOUGHT IT WOULD BE. fitz pressures her into trying to find her bio parents so they could be matched, he is aggressive and possessive over her (not in a good way) and she breaks up with him. during this, i’m pretty sure she begins to crush on keefe as well- keefe in permanent denial she could ever like him back of course- and feels terribly guilty about it, because she still has feeling for fitz. (yeah i told you, not the perfect comparison but you understand what i’m getting at right?) while things with fitz get worse, sophie starts genuinely discovering how she really feels about keefe, with lines like “if she was really really honest- and really really brave- she had to admit that the idea of being with keefe sounded… kind of amazing. Yes, it was scary. and yes there were risks. but wouldn’t it be worth trying?” wouldn’t it be worth trying? ladies and gents, we just discovered mikes inner monologue!!! scary, risky, but worth it? its what will is to him! mike has always been “too insecure to let (him)self see what’s right in front of (him)” (a line taken from the book!!!!!!) will is in front of him. he is being so distracted by his internalised homophobia that he has NOOO idea what he is missing!! “‘SERIOUSLY, STOP!’ she told herself again…/ adding those kind of feelings to a friendship pretty much ruined everything. ( talking about fitz)”

and it’s all oh so familiar…

BUT WAIT! THERES MORE! finally, FINALLY, during our long awaited kiss scene, she says this:

“some tiny part of her head had always wondered if kissing keefe could really be as great as everyone claimed. but kissing keefe was so. much. better.”

yeah. and then blah blah they get interrupted by who? of yes of course fitzy the ex boyfriend is here. and he says what when he finds out? OH YEAH. “you kissed him? you didn’t even kiss me!”

THAT SOUNDS A LOT LIKE “you never say it/i say it” AND “i didn’t say it/you didn’t have to” or pretty much the same way mike acts around will vs el.

you know what else? mikes inability to say i love you to el (hasn’t kissed fitz) but so clearly communicate it to will (kissing keefe)

if you haven’t read all this (and i don’t blame you!!) just read this next paragraph!

but back to my main MAIN point. sophitz was the ship EVERYONE (except maybe a select few) wanted right up until they got together!! it was perfect on paper, cute, with history and seemingly ‘connected’ character (as per the plot), and as soon as they got together, everything fell apart, as well as sophie closing herself off and beginning to lose fitz even before the downfall of their relationship due to her suppressed feelings about keefe. (cough cough MIKE) they need to break up for her to realise keefe was the better match all along. keefe, who never thought he as a chance. keefe, who loved her from the start. KEEFE, WHO LET HIS BEST FRIEND HAVE HER IF IT MEANT HAPPINESS TO THEM.

ARE YOU FUCKING KIDDING ME? please tell me i’m not crazy!! thank you for reading this it took me a long time to write but it also felt great to write this out even if no one reads this. hail to byler and a reminder we are one day closer to seeing them on screen. have a great day/night!

[leslie057]

rating things owned by nancy elizabeth wheeler

because she’s got a lot of little things. mostly they are very cute and strange little things.

starting off strong we have the prettiest tissue box in the world. 9/10, i think if i were sick it would make me feel better to have such a nice tissue box.

i’m fairly certain this is her diary beside it because her diary looks pink in the upside down version of her bedroom. so this is probably it? 11/10, i want to read it so bad. and very sweet pic with mom—7.5/10.

next up these pinstripe pants !! 10/10 i love them so much. oh and the index finger ring is there obviously, 8/10, such a consistent piece of her character.

a ribbon for being the bestest girl ever in the world. 10/10. also the card of cardinals: 6/10, probably just a christmas card or something rather than a symbol of her love for birds. but i still like it.

mr rabbit gets 11/10 for the name alone. and why does he look dead. i love him. he’s me.

descent from xanadu: QUITE LITERALLY 0/10. at first i was SO excited to cheer her on for reading a sex and drugs book at school but as it turns out? bizarre and gross. seems to go heavy on nonconsensual stuff. i snagged a free pdf and command f’d for whore and bitch. lots of results obviously (one use of c*ck crazy bitch…lovely). it seems men in this book say a lot of sexist stuff that the women pretend to hate but love which i can’t imagine is great for a teenage girl to consume. also just not sexy at all.

literally so bad, and this is not the worst of it.

sooo bad. the author was what 70 (??) writing that his female character got clinically DIAGNOSED with being a slut for every guy she comes in contact with. i know options for sexy literature were probably limited at this time but…please go check out something else. i wanna bonk her on the head with this book (paperback) and hug her. you don’t need to read this to be cool and sexually aware. moving on.

on the other side of that, the blondie calendar gives us a sense of the GOOD media she’s consuming!! a 10/10 no questions asked. we don't really get to see many of her hobbies or interests outside of investigation so this is a much appreciated detail.

of course like all good things in life the blondie calendar does get replaced. its replacement is what i will call Weird Antinaturalist Art Piece #1 seen in her room in s4. i give it a 4/10 because idk what’s going on really.

and here is a very crunchy screencap of Weird Antinaturalist Art Piece #2 from s4 which i will give a 5/10. note the boyfriend typical photography above it, for sure a 10/10.

there is also Weird Antinaturalist Art Piece #3 which gets an 8/10 because i like the composition and the piano player. where did she get this and why. interior decoration is her passion.

the sleeping bag and crochet pillow setup. 7/10. would take a cat nap here.

pluto!! 15/10, the best mickey mouse character i would say. i hope her cousin is taking good care of him.

bulletin board 10/10. i love how obvious it is that she has had this up for forever. probably a nice constant in her life.

and my favorite pic up there is this precious one. look at herrr. 5000/10.

her floral weekender bag. 6/10, i like it, but not as much as i like the speedwalk and the toss into the backseat. she was SO ready for her lab takedown road trip.

trapper keeper is a 9/10 because they probably put anything and everything on trapper keepers back in the day and yet still she chose this lovely understated hot air balloon. elegant.

tom cruise poster is 1000000/10 actually. she is so loyal to that man. actually though not a great pic of him all things considered so maybe i give it a 999999/10. (i love it so much because i know for a fact that jonathan byers works proactively to never acknowledge this poster, because he is more mature than that.) (he is not more mature than that, in fact he is a little pouty about mr cruise.)

KITTY FIGURINE. 10/10. i thought it was just in s4 but i found it on her other nightstand in s1. very very adorable. i imagine it is now one of the first things she sees in the morning (well that and her blue telephone: 8/10) which is bizarre and cute. the mixtape drawer gets a 10/10 for reasons that i don’t think i need to get into.

white fingerless gloves! 10/10. so chic for monster hunting.

black fingerless gloves from s4. hmmm 3/10, they're cool i guess but they don’t feel very nancy and the white ones are so much better. especially because you may get the splatter effect of monster blood on them in a battle scenario, which would be badass.

piggybank (with her name on the side). 2/10 unfortunately i don’t like him. he looks at me like i took out his whole pig village and i just need some quarters. also did she paint this herself? in that case, 3/10 for customization lol.

pastel underwear drawer: 10/10. her committment to the hollistic aesthetic and color palette of her room is impressive here. it was a good idea to use this drawer as a deterrence against her little brother and a money hiding place but clearly he has no manners and is a THIEF.

STRIPED SOCKS. 10/10. i realize it's hard to see because she's moving so fast (slow down he is not going anywhere) but they are indeed stripey even though i would have guessed solid white. and wow what good sleeping socks. stripes are just cozier. hope she got lots of sleep in those.

[beefrobeefcal]

Catfish to BigFish feat. Dark!Frankie Morales

Summary: Boston. The Frontiersmen is a crime syndicate that deals in drugs, arms, and anything else they can to keep themselves on top. But how did Frankie 'Catfish' Morales, the coke-addicted, lanky mess of a man become its leader? And where did the moniker 'BigFish' come from?

Rating: Explicit 18+ (MDNI) | Word Count: 2,283 | 3+/- years before OTWF begins

Content Warning: threats of violence, crime, violence, betrayal, Big Fish is a bad man in the making, character death, allusions to drug use, swearing, choking, punching, eating, comments on body, weight gain, friendship but at what cost?, Tom is a bag of smashed assholes

Author's Notes: this is a prequel showing us the how, what, why, and where roughly three years before Honey comes into the picture in Chapter One: Signed and Sealed. The biggest, juiciest, wettest thank you to @neverwheremoonchild for brainstorming this with me and to @strang3lov3 and @noxturnalpascal for their love and eyes. Pour one out for @xdaddysprincessxx - she will need all the hydration she can get.

On the Waterfront Masterlist

“If it were anyone else…”, Tom warned. 

“Yeah, we know. But it’s not. It’s Fish. He’s one of us.”

Pope sat back and watched Will do something none of them thought they’d have to do – convince Tom to give a shit.

“He’s a fuckin’ coke head! Snortin’ our own shit and lyin’ about it!”, Tom boomed, standing over Will. “You ran the fuckin’ numbers, you can see how much money we lost up his fuckin’ nose! And now you wanna spend more money tryin’ to get that fucker clean again?”

Will didn’t bend. He didn’t shrink and he didn’t back down. “It’s Frankie. Catfish. Our Catfish. And he needs help.”

Tom huffed harshly enough in Will’s face that his hair moved, then turned his ire to Pope. 

“You think Fish’s worth it? Already cost us a shit load of money and Will wants to blow more on that fuckhead.”

Pope slipped into his smooth and nonchalant voice and crossed his arms. He’d hoped this would give Tom the impression that he was just as unnerved and steadfast as Will.

“You know he’d do the same thing for any of us.”

“Fuckin’ altruistic bullshit!”, Tom barked, slamming his fist on the table. 

Pope felt his blood heating up and his jaw tightening. Will looked over at him quickly, his blue eyes ice cold and angry, and then back to Tom. 

“I disagree. He’s just as much my brother as Benny is. Or you, or Santi. He’s family and I’ll get’m help as many times as possible. And you know what you’re sayin’s bullshit-“

“Fuck you and your fuckin’ family values dog shit! You and I both know that he’s gonna get clean, last a week or two, then shit’s gonna start goin’ missing again and he’s gonna be right back to bein’ the fuckin’ crypt keeper he looks like now! He’s not gonna change. We need to cut him loose and let him kill himself. He made his choice, Will! Admit it - Fish ain’t worth it!”

Will stood up and moved close to Tom, almost nose to nose. Yeah, Tom was bigger, stronger even, but Will was precise and skilled in a way that seeing him square up like that scared Pope. He unfolded his arms and stepped forward. 

“Hey! Hold up! We’re not gonna do th-“

“You’re supposed to be our leader – our fuckin’ captain.”, Will seethed lowly. “I’m not gonna take orders from some mother fucker who decides to ‘cut loose’ one of our own. Fish needs our help and fuck you for turnin’ your back on’ im.”

Tom glared at Will. “Fine.”, he spat, then dug his index finger in Will’s chest. “But when he he fuckin’ OD’s, it’s on you!”

*****

It felt like more than 90 days when Pope rolled up in front of the rehab centre to pick up Frankie, and when he saw him standing outside, waiting for him, he frowned. Not because he wasn’t glad to see him looking better and fuller, but because this was the third time he had picked Frankie up from a stint in rehab. 

Frankie pulled open the passenger door and slid in, not daring to look up. 

“Fish…”, Pope broke the silence as he put the car in drive. “You look good - ”

“How mad is he this time?”, Frankie interjected.

Pope sighed, knowing exactly how mad Tom was that the Frontiersmen funded another one of Frankie’s stays in an expensive treatment centre. The fact that Tom could be mad at Frankie for this used to baffle him, but by this time - the third time – he could at least see where Tom was coming from. It didn’t sway his growing dislike of their leader though. 

“You keep clean, and he won’t have a reason to be pissed.”

“Fuck… Santi… I try, and – “

“Just shut the fuck up and keep clean, Frank.” Pope snapped, cutting Frankie off in turn. “Besides, I have something in mind to keep you motivated.”

All Frankie could do was nod, despite not knowing what Pope could offer as motivation. He never wanted to relapse, but the call was too sweet, too enticing, for him to stay away too long. He’d said this the day before while he was going through the exit procedure and the facilitator just shrugged and said, “Find something else to get high on then.” 

*****

Less than two months after Frankie came back to the compound, Tom was dead. 

Pope had walked down the hallway to the office where Will waited, and he pushed open the door. Will had looked up, expecting to see Tom, and when he saw Pope instead, blood on his hands and splattered on his body and face, and wide eyed, he stood up, confusion etched on his face.

“Santiago… what the fuck is goin’-“

“He’s dead.”

Will dropped the file folder he held precariously and moved quickly to Pope’s side as he sat heavily in one of the armchairs. He wiped his hand over his face, smudging the semi-dried blood, and he sighed.

“Who’s dea- “

“Tom… Tom’s dead. He’s fuckin’ dead, Will.”

“Santi.”, Will said in a low, controlled voice that just barely masked the panic writhing below. “What happened?”

“I… I was… I didn’t…”, Pope paused, trying to find a way to confess. Instead, his conscience was silenced by his ego, and he found himself lying without even really thinking. “He was… taken out by… by the Gutierrez gang… those fuckers… they ambushed him, Will.”

Pope looked up at Will, daring to see if what he said even sounded feasible. To Will, Pope’s wide, frightened eyes convinced him to ignore the itch at the back of his brain, needling him to probe further.

“I was… I was with him when he… I found him before he died. He was fuckin’ babbling some shit… who was supposed to take over…”

Will’s eyes narrowed subtly, but enough for Pope to register. He knew he couldn’t say he was the one Tom wanted; it would be too suspicious. And he couldn’t say Will because that would give him full control - something Pope truly believed would be his own downfall. 

“He wanted Fish…”

*****

Frankie was a half a year sober – actually, really, fully, no-word-of-a-lie sober – and had been the head of the Frontiersmen for just shy of four months. He’d spent the last six months trying to find a new vice that wouldn’t render him a liability and bankrupt the organization. He was just barely making an impact as the new leader; no one took him seriously. He was skinny and quiet. Only his inner circle knew how violent and dangerous he could be, but even then, they knew he really had to be provoked to get him to that point.

Pope decided he had to do something. His plan to put Frankie in the captain’s chair was failing miserably, and he knew if he couldn’t land this, he would be sussed out. 

“Fish… come on… we’re going out for dinner.”, he said, slapping Frankie’s back.

He looked up at Pope, tired and miserable. “Why?”

“Because you need to eat. You’re skin and bones and no one wants to be led by a corpse.”

Frankie’s expression turned from confused to hurt as his shoulders dropped, feeling the weight of everyone’s expectations gnaw at his sobriety. He carried this somber aura all the way to the restaurant. 

*****

The dingy little Italian restaurant had a name – Marcello’s - and it became Frankie’s haven. It was nowhere near as festive or amazing as Benny had indicated. The way he raved about the place, Pope thought he was taking Frankie to a pasta titty bar paradise, and instead he found them in a mid-century dive with carpet and wood paneling on the walls. 

It wasn’t until the hostess came out from the bar to greet them that Pope understood exactly why Benny loved this place, and he understood it even more when they had their food served.  It had started out as once a week, then turned into almost every night. The effects of pasta, heavy cream sauces, and garlic bread we’re beginning to show on Frankie. Gone were the feeling of his ribs when Pope patted him on his back and gone were his sunken cheeks. Frankie had filled out and he was glad to see his friend looking better. 

That was, until he noticed something. Yeah, Frankie was clean from coke, but he seemed to have turned that same veracity that he’d once carried for the narcotic on to food. It used to be that Frankie could barely finish a frozen TV dinner, being able to stretch one over two meals. As Pope sat across from him at Marcello’s one Tuesday evening, he watched his friend plow through two whole plates of pasta in one sitting. Pope noticed that while Frankie ate, he seemed almost tranquil, serene.

He’d found something else to get high on.

There was a notable change in Frankie as he gained weight. The soft spoken, always amenable Frankie was slowly being enveloped by a bigger, meaner, and more vicious version of him. 

When he was thinner, Frankie could get lucky with women if he tried, but he wasn’t the most confident and rarely put himself out there. But as he grew, so did his self-esteem. He no longer sat back and accepted things as they were said to him – he questioned and even demanded answers, using his newfound size to intimidate if need be. If he saw something he liked, be it clothing, electronics, cars, he took it and gave no one a chance to say otherwise.

The legacy Tom left behind began to fade within the Frontiersmen as Frankie’s violence took centre stage. His quick temper and fists built a reputation; he was still quiet, but the silence he offered was no longer one of contemplation, it was one of simmering rage, liable to explode into violence at any moment. But this was within their group alone. No one outside of their crew took him seriously enough to even warrant giving him a foot in the door.

All of that changed one evening and Pope got a front seat to watch his plan to hide behind Frankie finally bear fruit. Catfish’s temper finally exploded on the right person to get the message out. 

Chuck, the leader of another group called the Golden Kings, had sat across from Frankie at a roundtable, hosted by one of the other gangs to broker agreements and territories. Chuck had taken every opportunity to remind everyone that Frankie was a junkie who used to pilfer his group’s own product to get high. When he stopped getting the reaction he wanted, Chuck moved onto Frankie’s weight, which had pretty well doubled since Tom’s death. 

Will, seated on the other side of Frankie, quietly said, “Let it go, Catfish.”

“Catfish?”, Chuck laughed cruelly. “Fuckin’ Catfish? Really? Fatfish is more like it. What happened, Morales? You eat your feelings ‘cause you can’t get high no more?”

Pope caught a glance at Frankie’s face which only could be described as dark and malevolent as a thunderclap. It unnerved him to see Frankie looking so dangerous around other people. It was one thing for him to beat one of their own for being a dipshit, but this was someone who wasn't below Frankie – he was ranks above him. Frankie sat, glaring across the table at Chuck, his elbows on the armrests and his hands tensely tenting his fingers.

It seemed that the rest of the men at the table could sense the electric tension between Frankie and Chuck. Dan Connor, leader of the Dead Rabbits and host for the evening, motioned to Frankie with a head nod. 

“Get it out, Morales. Can’t move on with you having a bitchfit at some name callin’.”

Pope knew none of these men took his friend seriously and it was either going to be Frankie using his keen negotiation tactics or Frankie showing off his newfound rage. 

The latter won. Frankie sat in silence as Chuck beat his mouth off at him, trying to get Frankie to react, to no avail. He didn’t speak; he just watched, letting Chuck keep talking, letting him fuel his violent rage even more, until it reached a tipping point. 

“You may be a big fish now, you fuckin’ goof, but you’re still a rat-faced junkie.”

It happened quickly. Frankie stood up and grabbed Chuck from across the table by his suit jacket lapel and pulled him to his side as his fist began beating into the man’s face over and over.

Chuck’s men stood up, but Dan Connor’s hand came out, motioning for them to sit. His own men waited for their cue to remove Frankie from Chuck, but Dan just watched in reverence.

The punching stopped and Chuck gurgled in pain, and Frankie wrapped his huge hands around Chuck’s throat and squeezed. 

“I am Big Fish, you fuckin’ cunt.”, he growled in a calm and low tone, then he spat on Chuck’s face.

Will looked at Frankie horrified, and Pope couldn’t help the grin that forced its way to his face. Dan finally motioned for his men to intervene, and it took all four to pry Frankie’s hands off the bloody, gasping mess that was Chuck. 

Chuck’s men moved to get their boss away from Frankie as he sat back in his chair, and nodded at Dan, signaling for him to continue. The room remained silent, save for the pathetic whining of Chuck in the hallway. Dan looked at Frankie, eyes narrowed, then finally he started laughing – hard.

“Fuckin’ BigFish Morales! Welcome to the table, asshole.”

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[bookwyrminspiration]

Transcript of The Trade, the Marella KOTLC short story (Including the author introduction)

Note: OG pictures taken by Kenna!, provided by @fintan-pyren. Some words are obscured and the transcript may contain errors. Neverless, I hope this is useful to anyone who may need/want it :)

Hello, wonderful Keeper readers! Some of you might already know that I love to sneak a little something extra into the paperback versions of my books whenever I can (since I don't think hardcover readers should get to be the only ones who sometimes find fun bonuses). For those who didn't know that: surprise! :)

I knew I wanted to include a story from Marella's POV this time. Not only is she on the cover (looking fierce and fabulous!) and a fan-favorite character, but she also had some key scenes in Stellarlune that we only got to "hear" about. The Keeper books are limited to Sophie's POV, so I can only include moments where Sophie is present--and since Sophie didn't go with Marella to her meetings with Fintan, we only learn what Marella tells Sophie later. But what if there was something Marella didn't share?

Over the next few pages, you can watch one of Marella's conversations with Fintan play out in real time and hear all Marella's thoughts and reactions to what's happening. I've called this story "The Trade"--and I've worked in lots of fun little extra details (some of which might even turn out to be important later...*wink*).

For those wondering, this story is based a [sic] scene in chapter 31 of Stellarlune--and if you haven't read Stellarlune yet: SPOILER ALERT! SPOILER ALERT! Reading this first will probably be confusing and will also give away a few tidbits too early. You'll be much happier if you start by reading Stellarlune and then come back here for all the Marella fun once you're done!

Happy reading! [shannon's signature]

~

"Ugh, I hate this place," Marella muttered, shaking the freshly fallen snowflakes out of her gilded blond hair much harder than necessary and yanking her thick velvet cape tighter around her narrow shoulders.

She said the same thing every time she had to trudge through the knee-high snowdrifts and found herself staring at the icicle-crusted entrance to the now familiar cave.

Didn't matter how many times she'd gone there--or how important her visits were. She was never not going to dread making the long, slippery trek down to Fintan's frozen cell.

The cave looked like some sort of open-mouthed snow beast waiting to devour everything in its path--which was probably intentional, since the prison was designed to be as miserable as possible.

Especially for someone like her.

The goblin guards even gave her pitying stares as they moved aside to reveal the endless icy path that wound down and down--and down a whole lot more--to a place where the tiniest glimmer of heat had long since been swallowed up by the suffocating cold.

No amount of clothing could keep Marella warm in the heart of the prison She'd actually tried wearing so many layers that she'd looked like an overstuffed gulon--and she still couldn't stop shivering. And the whole "body temperature regulation" thing wasn't exactly possible when she had to use so much concentration to make sense of Fintan's ranting.

it wasn't fair.

Everyone else got to train their special abilities in fancy rooms at Foxfire, with Mentors who weren't creepy, unstable murderers.

But they weren't Pyrokinetics.

Marella was lucky the Council was letting her use her ability at all.

They could just as easily label her Talentless, kick her out of their snobby academy, and ban her from ever sparking another flame.

Or they could decide she was too dangerous and lock her away.

in fact, Marella wouldn't have been surprised at all if the Council was already building an icy cage just for her--but the thought still made her shiver and wish she could've manifested as...

Nope.

She stopped herself from finishing that sentence.

If life had taught her anything, it was that there's no point wanting things that were never going to happen.

Instead, she focused on the thin beams of sunlight streaking through a gap in the gloomy gray clouds. The light was far from warm, but if she really concentrated, she could feel a hint of lingering heat tangled among the brightness.

She called the warmth closer and soaked it in--let it pool under her skin, pounding with her pulse, swelling with every heartbeat. Growing hotter and hotter and hotter until...

Snap!

A flick of her fingers sent a small tangle of flames sparking to life above her left palm.

"Feel better?" Linh asked as Marella let out a long, slow sigh.

Marella nodded--though she definitely could've done without the whispered that were now hissing around her head.

The flames had a soft, crackly voice. And they always made the same plea.

Feed me.

Feed me.

Feed me.

Fire craved fuel--constantly wanting more, more, more--and it would've been so easy for Marella to let the fire swell bigger and bigger and bigger.

But that was the kind of thing that would lead to a lifetime of shivering in an underground ice cube, so she forced her gaze to shift to Linh, who stood in a small, snowless circle surrounded by a halo of hovering snowflakes---none daring to touch her long silver-tipped hair or shimmery purple cape.

Marella knew how hard Linh had fought to achieve that level of control, and how tentative Linh's hold over her ability still was. But the fact Linh could stand in a sea of frozen water and do nothing except keep the falling snow from settling on her flushed pink cheeks was very...

Annoying.

Then again, everyone annoyed Marella a little.

Her dad used to call her "fiery" long before he realized how accurate that description truly was.

But it wasn't Marella's fault!

People tended to be annoying.

Especially a Hydrokinetic who was currently looking all peaceful and pretty and perfect while making snowflakes flutter and spin in intricate patterns.

That didn't mean Marella wasn't also grateful that Linh was willing to tag along to her Pyrokinetic lessons. it was nice to see a friendly face after hours of Fintan's rambling. Plus, it seemed like a good idea to have someone with water powers around while she practiced setting things on fire.

They were even finding some pretty cool ways to work together. Fire and water might be opposites--but that didn't mean they couldn't be combined. Marella had actually figured out a way to ignite Linh's rain, and she couldn't wait to use that little trick on the Neverseen--assuming those black-cloaked losers ever showed up again.

For a fearsome, unstoppable rebellion, they sure spend a lot of time hiding.

"Are you going to start by asking him about the cache or do the lesson first?" Linh asked, reminding Marella why they were there.

Marella shrugged. "Depends on Fintan's mood."

Sometimes he was already babbling about some fancy new fire trick when she arrived, as if he'd started the lesson without bothering to wait for her. Other times she couldn't get anywhere with him until she'd let him go on and on and on about how foolish the Council was, or how badly he'd been wronged, or how much he missed the feel of a flickering flame--and she didn't necessarily blame him for the last one.

Part of her wanted to hold on to her fireball forever.

Make it her smoky little pet.

Instead, she curled her fingers into a fist and snuffed it out--but she didn't let all the heat dissipate. She called a single tingling glint deeper, letting it sear through her veins and settle into her heart.

She knew it was a risky move, even with all the defenses she wrapped around it. But she couldn't bear the cold emptiness of Fintan's prison without a least a tiny fleck of warmth tucked away.

A secret spark whispering, I'm here. You're not alone.

"Okay," she said, weaving a few strands of her hair together to clam her twitchy fingers. She'd picked up the nervous habit years ago--after her mom's accident--and the tiny braids were kind of her trademark now. "i guess I should stop stalling and head down to deal with Sir Creepysparks, huh?"

Linh smiled. "Probably. Unless you want to rehearse what you're going to say."

"Nah. I'm just going to offer him an ugly flower--that doesn't exactly need a big speech. Oh, but that reminds me..."

She reached into her cape pocket and pulled out the spiky dark blue Noxflare--which looked more like a dying weed than a super-rare flower--and held it up to the guards. "Mr. Forkle already checked this before I brought it here, to make sure it's safe for me to offer to Fintan. but I figured you'd want to check it too."

"We do," they agreed in unison as one of the biggest, deadliest-looking guards took the Noxflare from Marella and brought it over to the other goblins.

A lot of mumbling about potential kindling and fire hazards followed.

Eventually, the guards decided to quick-freeze the Noxflare into a block of ice in case there was any heat stored inside.

"Whoa," Marella said when the scary guard returned with the flower-filled ice cube--which had turned out as big as her head. "How heavy is that thing?"

The guard studied Marella's skinny arms. "I can carry it for you if you'd like."

"That's probably be smart." Marella was pretty sure she'd drop it, or her fingers would freeze off during the long walk--and using telekinesis would drain her mental energy. "But can you stay out of sight? I was planning to tell Fintan he can only see his weird flower thing if he gives me access to his memories, and that's kinda ruined if there's a giant goblin holding it right next to me.

Not that it made the plan any less pointless.

Fintan was obviously going to turn her down.

He's already made it super clear that the only trade he was interested in was for his freedom--which was never going to happen.

Marella doubted a dying flower frozen in ice was suddenly going to make him be like, You know what? Who needs out of this horrible prison when I can have that!

But she was out of other ideas.

And Sophie wanted her to try the Noxflare thing, so...

Whatever.

Marella didn't care about Sophie's current power trip the way Stina did.

As long as she didn't have to be the one coming up with all the plans--or almost dying all the time--Marella was fine following orders. Especially if she got to say I told you so when they turned out to be a huge waste of time.

"Sure you don't want me to come with you?" Linh asked as Marella pulled thick gloves onto her hands. "Fintan likes me."

Marella wasn't sure if "like" was the right word, since Fintan didn't seem to like anybody. But he'd definitely been impressed with Linh.

He'd demanded to speak with "the Hydrokinetic" after Marella mentioned she practiced her pyrokinesis with Linh, so Marella had convinced the goblin guards to let Linh down into the prison. And when Fintan asked for a demonstration of Linh's ability to ensure she wouldn't "hinder his training," Linh had stirred up all the ice shards on his floor and made them rain around him like he was trapped inside a snow globe--which actually made him applaud.

Apparently, most Hydrokinetics struggled to manipulate water in its solid form, and were limited to liquid water or water vapor.

But not Linh.

Of course.

Marella was pretty sure that Linh was more powerful than any of her other friends.

"Well, if you need me, you know where to find me," Linh said as Marella forced her feet to carry her into the cave. "I'll just be here, making another snow menagerie." She flicker her wrist and wove the hovering snowflakes into a soaring alenon.

"Ugh, at least make some ugly creatures this time," Marella called over her shoulder. "I want to see a row of snow ghouls when I get back here. Or a giant Princess Purryfins!"

Linh gasped. "Princess Purryfins is not ugly! I'm going to tell her you said that!"

Marella laughed. "I'm sure you will."

She would've teased Linh more about her ridiculous obsession with her pet murcat, but the frigid air from the prison hit Marella hard, and she had to lock her jaw to keep her teeth from chattering.

As least she didn't have to make the journey by herself this time.

Marella could hear the scary goblin guard keeping pace several steps behind her as her eyes slowly adjusted to the dim blue light cast by a series of glowing spheres dangling from the ceiling. The downward slope grew steeper with each winding curve, and Marella was always tempted to try sliding down the icy floor instead of walking--but she'd probably end up crashing into one of the weird ice thrones outside Fintan's cell. And she knew better than anyone that injuries couldn't always be healed.

Plus, the trudge gave her a chance to add extra defenses to the heat she'd tucked away in her chest.

She often wondered if Fintan had hidden a few sparks of his own when he was arrested. After all, he had to know the Council would put him on ice for the rest of eternity. Wouldn't he try to preserve what little heat he could?

But Marella had stretched out her senses a zillion different ways and never felt the slightest tingle of warmth when she was around him. So either there was nothing to find or Fintan was that good.

She had a horrible feeling it was the latter, and he was waiting for just the right moment to reveal his grand plan--but that wasn't the kind of thing she should be thinking about before having to face him.

Still, she spent the next few turn trying to figure out what she'd do if she were right.

Her feet turned numb while she plotted, and her bones were officially aching by the time the path widened-- the only warning that they were getting close to Fintan's cell.

A few curves later, his cage came into view: a stark, icy bubble in the center of a circular cavern.

The round wall was reflective on the inside, so even though Marella could see Fintan pacing along the edge of his frozen barricade, he wouldn't be able to see her until she triggered the sensor by sitting in one of the freezing thrones positioned at the only point Fintan could peer through.

He looked extra tired that day--his sky blue eyes sunken by more shadows than usual, and he kept muttering under his breath about incompetence as he tucked his messy blond hair behind his pointy ears with a bit more force than necessary.

Marella glanced back at the scary guard, making sure he'd ducked into the shadows near the back of the cell before she made her big appearance. Then she took a deep breath and pressed her hand against her heart, reaching for her secret spark of warmth one last time before plopping into the closest ice throne.

"Awwwww, looks like you missed me," she said, tossing back her hair and flashing her brightest smile.

She liked to start her visits by showing Fintan she wasn't afraid of him--even if she totally was.

But Fintan didn't glance her way.

"I'm not in the mood for games," he warned as he continued his slow march around his cell.

"Neither am I" Marella assured him, deciding that was her cue to start with the cache. She sat up taller, trying to look extra confident as she added, "But I do have an awesome trade to offer you!"

Fintan sighed. "If this is about my cache, I already told you what I'm willing to accept. Unless you're here to grant me a day of freedom--"

"I'm definitely not. But! I found something you should like even better." She paused, hoping the extra bit of anticipation would somehow make her offer should more exiting when she told him. "Noxflares!"

Fintan scrunched his slender nose. "What are Noxflares, and why would I care about them?"

Marella tilted her head, trying to tell if he was faking.

She hadn't expected him to jump around or applaud or anything--but she had expected him to at least know what Noxflares were.

Then again, his mind had been shattered and pieced back together so many times, his memories had to be in shambles--and Ancient minds tended to be a total mess anyway, since they were crammed with thousands of years of information and the past and present blurred together.

"Would it help if I told you I stopped by your old estate on my way here?" she asked, "Your garden could use some gnomish help, by the way. All the plants have turned into a giant dying tangle. But I dug around and managed to find this scraggly vine with dark pointy flowers--and I hear that plant is special to you, so I picked a few and--"

"You picked my Noxflares?" Fintan snapped, rushing to the wall of his cell and pressing his palms against the ice. "You must let me see them!"

Marella's lips curled into a huge smirk. "I thought you didn't know what they were."

Fintan gritted his teeth so hard, it sounded like cracking ice.

"Hey, I'm not saying I won't share. Buuuuuuuuuuut it'll cost you--and I'm pretty sure you can already guess what I want." She paused for another beat before she added, "Just so we're clear: I'll show you one of your Noxflares if you open your cache and show me what's inside."

Fintan's jaw tightened even more and his hands curled into fists.

But he didn't say no.

He didn't say anything--which was definitely new.

Marella had already offered him a long list of trade suggestions that she, Linh, Maruca, and Stina had all come up with--some really cool ones! And Fintan had shot down each one down before she could even finish the offer.

She couldn't believe he looked so tempted by an ugly flower.

but as the silence dragged on, Marella started to wonder if she'd misread the situation.

maybe she'd pushed him too hard--taunted him too much--and now Fintan was letting her sit there in the cold, knowing the icy throne was turning her butt and legs numb.

She was trying to decide if she could make standing up look like a power move when Fintan told her, "Fine. You have a deal--but since you're only offering one Noxflare, I'll only show you one memory."

Marella barely stopped herself from blurting out, SERIOUSLY?

"Orrrrrrrrrrrrrr," she said instead, wanting to kick herself for not bringing more Noxflares with her. The whole thing had just seemed so silly--and the first few she'd picked had crumbled to dust. But the vine had lots more flowers, so she could fix the mistake super easily. "How about I go back, grab eight more Noxflares, and then you show me all nine memories?"

Fintan grinned. "Tempting. But one Noxflare is really all I need."

Need?

Marella wasn't a fan of that wording.

But before she could ask him what he needed it for, he added, "My offer expires in ten seconds," and started counting down.

By "six" she decided that one memory was better than nothing.

"Fine," she said, pulling the cache from her pocket and holding the marble-size orb up to the light. "But you go first. How do I open this thing?"

No way was she going to risk letting him back out--especially since he probably wasn't going to be happy when he saw his precious flower was stuck in the middle of a giant ice cube.

Fintan held out his hand. "Give me the cache, and I'll open it."

Marella laughed. "Hard pass."

"Ah, but you don't have a choice. I'm the only one who can access the memories. And I need to make physical contact with the cache in order to do so."

Marella squinted at the tiny gadget.

She didn't know much about caches--aside from the fact that only Councillors used them and that each colorful inner crystal held a single Forgotten Secret. But she did know that Dex had already tried everything he could think of to open the cache and failed--and he was one of the best Technopaths ever.

"Do I need to start counting down again?" Fintan asked. "I believe we'd gotten to five..."

Marella chewed her lip. "Uh, how do I know you're not going to destroy the cache or try to hold it for ransom or something?"

Fintan's smile was colder than his cell. "You'll just have to trust me."

"Yeah, I don't see that happening."

Fintan shrugged. "Then our deal is off."

Marella rolled her eyes. "Come on. Even if I wanted to, it's not like I can open your cell door and hand the cache to you."

She wasn't even sure if his cell had a door. The wall looked like one big solid piece of ice.

"You've proven to be very resourceful during our lessons," Fintan reminded her.

"Yeah, but--"

"It's your call," he interrupted. "If you want a memory, you'll have to trust me."

She snort-laughed--but before she could get another word out, he repeated, "You'll just have to trust me." And she could tell that was the only response he was going to give.

She turned to the scary guard, who had started pacing in the shadows. "Is there a way to pass Fintan a small item?"

"Ah, you have a hidden goblin escort--I knew you were resourceful!" Fintan clapped his hands. "And yes, there is a way to pass me my cache, otherwise I wouldn't have suggested it. Any guard can open the disgraceful tube they pass my horrid, frozen bits of food through. The cache should fit nicely."

The guard gripped his sword. "I cannot allow any unauthorized item to enter his cell."

Fintan clicked his tongue. "Clearly you're not considering the fact that I've already had plenty of chances to make this trade--and turned them all down. Do you think I would do that if the cache was even remotely useful to me?"

The goblin couldn't argue with that logic.

Neither could Marella.

And when Fintan went back to counting down, she told the guard, "The Black Swan knows I've been trying to make this trade--and they're working with the Council now. No one would let me do this if they thought the cache was dangerous."

Then again, they'd never discussed the possibility of handing the cache over to Fintan--but surely someone must've considered that during all their endless talking and obsessive overplanning...right?

Besides, if anything went wrong, she could always remind them that this was Sophie's idea.

"I don't like this," the scary guard growled. But Marella gave him her I-totally-know-what-I'm-doing glare until he set the frozen Noxflare down with a particularly dramatic thud, snatched the cache, and spent an eternity squinting at the tiny crystal, spinning it all different ways. "If anything happens, my priority will be subduing the prisoner--not protecting you. Are you certain you want to take that risk?"

Marella absolutely wasn't.

But...this might be their only shot at seeing one of Fintan's Forgotten Secrets.

Plus, she had her tiny little spark buddy she could call on if she needed. Surely she could use that to...

To what?

Take down a superpowerful, much more experienced Pyrokinetic with a history of murdering poeple?

But...did she really want to wimp out?

Sophie wouldn't.

And yeah, Sophie had, like, a permanent bed in the Healing Center. But Marella was pretty sure their whole group would vote "DO IT!"

There were also a dozen other armed goblins who would rush down as backup.

And Linh could attack Fintan with her cutesy snow animals.

It'd almost be worth it to watch Fintan get swallowed up by an ice wave shaped like Princess Purryfins.

"I can handle myself," she decided, using a tone that hopefully sounded intimidating.

Fintan's gleeful laughter echoed of the ice.

The scary guard muttered something about the arrogance of elves as he reached toward the top of Fintan's frozen cell and felt around for a specific spot. A faint clicking sound followed, and a tiny round door slid open--far out of Fintan's reach.

"I can neutralize you within seconds," the guard reminded him as he held the cache up to the opening. "By numerous means. Some far more painful than others."

"Yes, I'm well aware of the absurd lengths the Council has taken to keep me contained," Fintan assured him. "But I don't plan on giving you a reason to use any of them. Not today, at least."

The guard bared his supersharp pointy teeth, and Marella wanted to shout NEVER MIND, JUST KIDDING! But she let the guard shove the cache through the tiny opening--and then it was too late to change her mind.

All she could do was watch the glass orb make its slow descent, rolling around and around and around--down some sort of invisible path etched into the wall of the cell.

Her stomach backflipped with each rotation, and she felt more than a little vomit-y when the cache dropped low enough for Fintan to catch it. But he simply held it up and studied it.

Then he coughed on it.

And sneezed on it.

"Ewwwwwww," Marella groaned when he followed that up by drooling on it. "You know, there are better ways to give it your DNA."

"Yes, I'm aware." Fintan cleared his throat and launched a slimy blob of spit at the cache. "I also know your little Technopath friend is going to ask you how I accessed the memories, so feel free to give him a detailed list." He wiped the cache dry with his fingers and then ran it through his greasy hair before sneezing and coughing on it again. "Some of these methods are vital. Some are distractions. None can be re-created without me--but it'll be fun if he tries, don't you think?"

He laughed so hard, it brought tears to his eyes, and he smeared them across the cache before sneezing and spitting on it again--making Marella very glad she had gloves to keep her hands clean once he returned the cache.

Assuming she actually got it back...

She tried to make out what he was saying when he started mumbling a bunch of stuff into the crystal, but the words were all mushed together. He also tapped the cache in so many different places that she doubted even Sophie and Keefe with their fancy photographic memories would be able to re-create the patterns. And he looked so smug as he did it all that Marella decided to look as bored as possible--which was why she was barely paying attention when the cache flared to life, projecting a small hologram of Fintan standing alone in a wide, empty field.

"Huh," Marella mumbled. "Gotta admit, I was expecting something a little more exciting than a tiny glowing Fintan in the middle of nowhere doing...nothing."

"Then you should learn to be more observant." Fintan pointed to the swaying grass around the hologram's feet, and after a few seconds, Marella realized there was a vine of blooming Noxflares. "I figured I'd show you what Noxflares can do, since you're so generously bringing one back into my life."

Marella squinted at the tiny flowers, waiting for something to happen.

And waiting.

And waiting.

"So...they...blow in the wind?" she asked.

Fintan sighed. "No, they do this."

The hologram of Fintan waved his arms, and all the Noxflares erupted with searing white flames.

"Yeeeeeaaaaaaaaaaah, still not seeing why this needed to be a super-hush-hush Forgotten Secret," Marella grumbled as the Fintan hologram flicked his wrist and added purple fire to the white.

Sure, the flames were pretty--but all flames were beautiful.

"Try thinking like a Pyrokinetic!" Fintan snapped. "Tell me, are there any other flowers that could remain intact under such an inferno?"

Marella couldn't think of any.

And the Noxflares still didn't burn when the Fintan hologram added yellow flames to the fiery mix.

but other than clearly being fire-resistant, Marella didn't see the Noxflares actually doing anything--and the hologram of Fintan must've been equally unimpressed.

He frowned at the flaming petals and dragged a hand down his face, mumbling "something's missing."

"Still not seeing the point of this," Marella noted. "I mean..."

Her voice trailed off as the tiny Fintan waved his arms again and blasted the Noxflares with pink flames--which made the flowers spray sparks in every direction.

The effect was breathtaking.

Kind of like the sky during the Celestial Festival.

But that still didn't necessarily scream, THIS MEMORY IS IMPORTANT.

"How come the grass isn't catching fire?" she asked, grasping for anything that might be significant. "Do the Noxflares protect it or something?"

"No, I was protecting it. A pyrokinetic should always be in control of their flames."

He sounded so smug Marella was tempted to remind him that he let five Pyrokinetics die when he tried to teach them how to call down Everblaze and they all lost control--but that would probably make him throw one of his tantrums and send her away.

She needed the cache back first--and to hopefully find something useful in this boring memory. But sadly, all Fintan's hologram did was stare blankly at the stars and mumble "something's missing" again before the image flashed away.

"That's it?" the scary guard demanded, beating Marella to the complaint.

"Yeah, so...you put on a little fire show all by yourself with some spark-shooting flowers," she added, trying to sum up what she'd seen. "You were clearly disappointed by that little show. And then you must've remembered you needed to..."

She waved her hands, cuing Fintan to fill in the blank with whatever was "missing."

But he just stood there, staring at the cache with the same glazed look he always got whenever he started rambling about the beauty of fire--and Marella wished Linh had come with her after all.

Linh could pelt him with snowballs or something to snap him out of it.

But then she realized...

"You never figured out what was missing--did you?"

Fintan blinked and met her gaze. "Noxflares are full of possibility. But they need to burn."

"That doesn't answer my question," Marella noted.

Fintan shrugged. "Context was not part of our bargain."

"yeah, because I figured when I saw the memory, it would be obvious why it's this big Forgotten Secret. How does you setting some flowers on fire and then realizing you did it wrong matter to anyone?"

"I did nothing wrong," Fintan assured her, with a particularly haughty smile--butt Marella wasn't buying it.

There was a tightness around his eyes that was way too familiar.

Her dad had that same tightness every time her mom was having one of her "bad days," and she knew exactly what it meant.

Disappointment.

Frustration.

A hint of helplessness.

So she marched over to the guard and grabbed the frozen Noxflare from the floor--too irritated to even notice how heavy the ice must've been as she hauled it back.

She plopped it in front of Fintan's cell. "Ta-da! One ugly flower, as promised--and I'm sure you're not surprised that I had to freeze it before i brought it down here."

"I'm not." Fintan dropped to his knees and gazed at the Noxflare like he was seeing a long-lost friend.

He pressed his hand against his cell, trying to get as close as he could. "Such power. Such...promise."

"Uh-huh," Marella agreed, letting his stare and stare, hoping it would help him let his guard down.

When his eyes turned a little teary, she went in for the kill.

"But there is something still missing, isn't there? That's why you saved this memory--to remind yourself to keep looking."

A whole lot of painful silence passed before Fintan slowly nodded.

Marella wanted to feel triumphant.

But all she'd done was prove the entire trade had been pointless.

There was no game-changing clue.

No dirty little secret about the past.

Certainly nothing to help them stop their enemies.

And she had a pretty strong hunch the other eight memories in the cache would be just as ridiculous.

"The answer is out there," Fintan murmured. "I can feel it. I just can't grasp it. Perhaps..."

"Perhaps?" Marella prompted when his eyes locked with hers.

Fintan stepped closer to the ice, keeping his voice low, like he didn't want the guard to hear him. "Perhaps a different Pyrokinetic is meant to find the truth. One who's already convinced the Council to trust her."

Marella laughed. "The Council doesn't trust me."

"The fact that you're here for a pyrokinesis lesson says otherwise--particularly since the lesson is with me." He started circling his cell again, mumbling under his breath and nodding. The only words Marella caught were "possible," "improvising," and "best option."

After three more times around the cell, he stopped in front of Marella again, leaning even closer to the icy wall as he whispered, "I believe it's time for me to offer a trade of my own."

"A trade," Marella repeated, not missing the way the scary guard gripped his sword.

Fintan glared at him. "This conversation is between me and my prodigy. She stands here of her own free will, shielded by who knows how many different kinds of protections--and she can leave anytime she pleases. Your presence is no longer needed."

"You still have her gadget," the guard argued.

"I suppose I do. but that can be easily remedied." Fintan set the cache on whatever invisible ledge it had slid down in the first place and gave it a good shove, sending it spinning up the path toward the top of the cell.

The guard had to scramble to catch it when it launched out of the ice bubble.

"See?" Fintan said, shifting his gaze back to Marella. "I can be trusted."

"Pretty sure the only thing I can trust is that you'll do what's best for you," Marella countered.

"As long as you get what you want, why would you care? After all, no matter what, I'm still stuck in here, aren't I?" He waved his arms around his little ice bubble, which suddenly looked way less secure than it had during her other visits. "Oh, relax--all I'm asking for is a little information."

Marella crossed her arms. "Right--and information has never gotten anyone hurt or killed."

"It's not that kind of secret. It's..." He frowned. "Honestly, I don't know what it is--and for someone my age, with my connections, that says something, doesn't it? I doubt any of the Vackers even know the full truth."

"Then how am I supposed to find it?" Marella demanded.

"As I said, you've proven to be quite resourceful. Particularly when you team up with your little friends." He scowled at the guard again before motioning her to step closer--until her ear was practically pressed up against the ice.

A voice in the back of her head kept screaming, WHY ARE YOU LISTENING TO HIM?

But...she was curious.

And there was nothing wrong with hearing his offer, was there?

Fintan's breath fogged the ice, obscuring his face as he whispered, "All I ask is that if you ever find out what's missing from the Noxflares, you share it with me."

"Why?" Marella glanced at the frozen flower, wishing she could see something more than just ugly shriveled petals.

"Because I want to know," Fintan said simply. "And because I can give you what you want in return."

"The rest of the memories in your cache," Marella clarified.

Fintan nodded. Then his lips curled into a smile. "And one other--something you've long wondered about, even though you probably don't admit it to yourself."

Marella raised one eyebrow, refusing to show any more interest than that.

Fintan cupped his hands around his mouth and pressed them to the ice before he whispered, "I know what happened to your mother."

Marella sucked in a breath.

"Yes," Fintan added. "I'm talking about her 'accident'--if we can really call it that. I know why she fell. And why her injuries were so incurable."

Marella stumbled back, collapsing into the nearest throne and hugging herself to stop her body from shaking with tremors that had nothing to do with the cold.

A tiny, terrified part of her had always thought the story she'd been told about her mom's fall hadn't totally made sense.

But everyone--everyone--was convinced it had been an accident.

Even her father.

And if it wasn't...

She leaned toward Fintan. "I don't need your games."

"Oh, this definitely isn't a game. But it's the only way you'll ever know the truth, and before you start overthinking everything, consider this: You have all the power here. Make the trade, don't make the trade--it's totally your call. You also don't have to make a decision right away. I'm trapped in this prison. I'll never find the answer on my own--and I'll never know if you find the answer unless you decide to tell me. So there's zero pressure. No one even knows we've had this conversation--and don't worry about the guard. See how frustrated he looks? That's because I made sure he only heard what I wanted him to hear. The rest is our little secret."

Our little secret.

Fintan was probably the last person she should have a secret with.

And yet...he had a point.

No one knew he'd made her this offer--and it wasn't like she'd come to any decision.

She didn't even have the information Fintan wanted anyway!

And with the way their investigations always seemed to go, she'd probably only find a whole lot more questions.

So there was really no point in telling anyone about this.

She could tell them whens he needed to.

If she needed to.

That wouldn't be wrong...would it?

It didn't feel wrong--or it wouldn't have if Fintan's smile wasn't so creepy.

"I'm not agreeing to anything," she said, wanting to make that very clear.

"You're not," Fintan assured her. "So how about we put this out of our minds and get started with our lesson? I'm sure your Hydrokinetic friend is wondering why you haven't come up to practice yet."

Linh was probably starting to worry.

She'd probably also built enough snow animals to make a frozen Sanctuary.

"Fine," Marella said, standing up and dusting ice off her cape. "What do you want me to work on today?"

"How about I teach you how to make those colored flames you saw in the memory," Fintan suggested. "You know, in case that ever comes in handy."

He winked, and the guard groaned and held out the cache to Marella. "Sound like I'm no longer needed."

"You aren't" Fintan agreed.

The guard growled--looking scarier than ever--and turned to march away. But he spun back after a few steps. "He's right that I don't know what he offered you. But I can tell you're tempted. And I hope you're smart enough to reject it. Never make a deal with someone who has nothing to lose."

"I'm not," Marella promised.

And she wasn't.

She hadn't made any decisions--except to keep this to herself. But that didn't mean anything.

She was just trying to avoid a ton of drama and arguing and having people give her advice she didn't need.

Plus, everyone has secrets.

Shoot--the great Sophie Foster had more secrets than anyone.

So it was fine.

Everything was fine.

Nothing had changed.

Time to focus on controlling her fire.

And yet, for the rest of the lesson, the tiny spark in her heart burned hotter and hotter and hotter. Whispering a new plea.

Trust me.

Trust me.

Trust me.

[spell-fox]

Tertius Aurelius Augustus

Gangrel keeper of Elysia for Oxford 1348, definitely not planning any dubious rituals. Character from my Dark Ages chronicle.

I haven't shared too many details, as I didn't want to spoil things before the players discovered them, so here goes.

Gregarious, loud, fond of the finer things in unlife; music, hunting, drinking, Tertius, born Tadhg, grew up with one foot in the Cainite world.

His mother entered the services of Aurelia, a Toreador from an already fallen empire desperately clinging to past glory. For the most part he avoided the household, preferring to work with livestock, until the lure of vitae proved too tempting. Long life, power, vampiric abilities, not to mention to allure of the mistress herself. But she had little use for a swineherd and so he had to shift into something more lucrative, eventually working his way into her good graces and vitae supply through the usual routes of bribery, blackmail, and doing all the accounts work no one else wanted to do.

What he didn't account for was the tedium of earning someone else money for several hundred years, always at a fickle cainite's beck and call, and the slow erosion of humanity that can happen when you act as assistant for a cainite more accustomed to even crueler times.

Expansion of her interests meant expanding into the nearby ancient forests, where he met, attempted to hunt, and preceded to nearly get killed by his future sire in the form of a white boar. What happened next is not clear, but history does record Aurelia taking a trip down from Chester to London. Perhaps there was a miscalculation of the route, as the until now flawless scheduler Tertius made an apparent error, sending her straight into lupine territory. It is also to be noted for the record that Tertius was embraced some time later by the very Gangrel who wanted rid of the rose.

Since then he's been working on his own holdings far from his sire's extension territory, trading, acquiring a bathhouse, and generally continuing the skills that served his well in life; insinuating himself into affairs of state so thoroughly it would be so much trouble to untangle his roots he is nigh irreplaceable. No one else quite knows how the local council's funds are distributed and earned, and that is very much by design.

In that time he's had a string of short-lived romances (the medieval cainite queer scene isn't exactly a large dating pool...), sired two troublesome childer, Safiyyah and Lettice, and seems to have a soft spot for those seeking revenge.

More recently, a troublesome priest has thoroughly stolen his heart and they even bound their souls together. They're all planning a little ritual to summon the spirit of the River Thames.

[bluemoondust]

✧Yandere Headcanons — Pregame✧

Character(s): Maki Harukawa, Himiko Yumeno, Rantaro Amami, Ryoma Hoshi

Note: Once again, these are based off my own interpretation on their personalities. One of the things I wanted to do when writing these was to slightly mirror these four off of their counterparts when it comes to behavior and traits as a yandere.

Part One — Kaede, Shuichi, Kokichi, Kaito

Bonus — Protagonists

Warning(s): Thoughts of Murder, Possessive Behavior and Thoughts (Maki), Implied Depression, Slight Guilt Tripping, Implied S//uicidal Thoughts (Himiko), Hints of Possessive Behavior and Obsessive Thoughts, Blackmail, Manipulation, Implied Kidnapping (Rantaro), Hints of Depression and S//ucidal Thoughts, Mentions of Murder (Ryoma)

✧Harukawa, Maki✧

Maki was wary of these unhealthy feelings at first. She thought it'd stay innocent since she values you so much. Despite what everyone else says, you've taken your time getting to know her. Because of that, she fully trusts and deems you as a keeper. The friendship was innocent and some of the best moments of her life. She wanted more. Maybe it was selfish of her to daydream about holding your hand and you confessing to her one day. It was all just fantasy, right? It wasn't, actually. It was a longing.

You're the only person she hangs out with, and she's okay with that. You have her deepest secrets (not entirely...) while she has yours. Maki always promises to never tell a soul about what you've confided to her. What is spoken under your home stays there, after all. She'll take everything she knows about you to her grave. She doesn't believe anyone else would know you on the level she does. That's preposterous. They were never the shoulder you cry on, the one who knows how you like your breakfast or that you'd like a certain meal at a specific time of day...only Maki would know. She's stuck to you—by the hip.

It's no secret how much she detests people entering your life. Calm as ever, she tolerates them for the time being. You assume Maki is uncomfortable meeting new people due to her social skills. Your assumption is partially correct. She is uncomfortable around these new faces, but at the same time, she hates them. If they as so much as look at you in a way that insinuates affection beyond friendship, Maki's blood will be boiling. You're busy talking to this person, yet her mind is elsewhere. All she can think about is how this person can be snuffed out. It's so violent, the confines of her mind. She was someone who was into violent and bloody video games and stories, but...she never considered the possibility of it happening in real life.

It stays on the back burner for a while. Could she really have the capability to enact these gruesome thoughts? Maybe...she thinks to herself as she watches on intensely. It would be necessary, in her own words. Losing you would be worse than someone else losing a friend, son/daughter, or whoever this person is to others. Maki needs to ensure you're by her side for years. Just enough for you two to date, get married, and have a family. A family that she has always wanted since the day she played house as a kid. 

✧Yumeno, Himiko✧

Himiko takes much time to love someone as deeply as any yandere would. Even more so than the more stubborn ones. It's not like she doesn't care for others. She's just tired and always in some form of slump. She goes through life the same way without a shred of change. Just how she likes it. Himiko goes with the flow of things and makes no effort to form friendships or long-lasting bonds. Content with her life, she spends many hours alone with her interests. That is until she meets you, her darling.

You actually scare her. Almost terrifies her. Being in your presence makes her remember you're the embodiment of her life, changing its course. For better or worse, she doesn't know. It does not matter since it's still a terrifying thing to face. So Himiko avoids you for a while. There are moments when you run into her, and some part of her mind says to stay. She's very conflicted and isn't willing to get out of her comfort zone. That's fine. She'll come around. When she does, it'll be similar to Maki. Himiko would be attached by the hip and follow you around. She strangely feels safe rambling about her fixations to you. The amount of time she puts into them is unhealthy, but it distracts her from thinking about things in life. You're a distraction as well...she's happy with that.

She's excessively codependent on you. Which is why rivals frustrate and scare her to death. Himiko has this overwhelming urge to burst into tears when you show signs of 'favoring' this person over her. She wouldn't consider herself a crybaby at all, but now crying is something she feels like doing when your bond is threatened. She won't admit to having these fears, choosing to bottle up her true emotions until they burst. When that happens, she vents everything to you. Unintentionally guilt-ripping you severely since she mentions the bullying and thoughts of death. Sometimes life is a pain. It's not worth it anymore.

Himiko feels like you're the only reason she gets up in the morning. A reason to press on another day. She doesn't want to lose that since it would be like a part of her has died. So she makes sure you're focused on her a lot. You're not a cruel person; she knows that, so that's why it is safe to say that her mindset and unhealthy lifestyle will concern you. Himiko feels safe and comforted that you're worried about her mental health, and she'll keep it that way if that means your attention is solely on her. After all, she can't live without you.

✧Amami, Rantaro✧

Rantaro is another person who takes time before actually falling for a person. He is cynical and has seen the worst out of people left and right. He always assumes that people are only out for their self-interests. He hates the flowery words people throw at him for his looks alone. They’re so surface-level. So superficial. Just like his father. The only way Rantaro would ever fall deeply for someone is if the person is genuinely kind and isn’t looking for something in return. 

That is where you come in. Rantaro tests you after your first act of kindness. It has to be a one-time thing. He was actually caught off guard by your actions. You continue to surprise him, and in turn, he keeps you around. Oh no, don’t assume it’s for some surface-level bullshit like having you is a one-and-done thing. No. It’s permanent and something real to him. Anyone who thinks he’s that shallow knows nothing about him. 

He hates how people see him as a playboy, but sometimes that has its benefits. Using people he could care less for is pretty handy, especially when it’s for your sake. None of the words he says to them will ever amount to how he feels for you. If any of his admirers ever mess with you, he will confront them privately before destroying their self-esteem. Oh, and if he’s feeling a little sadistic about it, he will blackmail them. They really do have a loose set of lips to trust him with their secrets, huh? Just because they were wearing rosetinted glasses. 

The one thing in life Rantaro dreams of is traveling to escape his life. Now, he has you to share it with. He plans to take you with him one day when the time comes, but if you’re showing signs of not desiring such a thing…he’ll start small. You two don’t have to leave the country immediately, maybe in another city or a cabin somewhere out of town. You are coming with him one way or another. He will be frank when he says he is selfish because everyone else is. He has finally found something in his life that is worth his efforts, and no one is taking that from him. Not even you. 

✧Hoshi, Ryoma✧

Ryoma is pretty similar to Himiko in the sense where you are probably his only reason to get up in the morning. However, that'd be selfish to burden you with such knowledge. If you knew this, that'd bring concern. It's not like he hates pity or being cared for…it just makes him believe he's acting like a spoiled child. It's safe to say that Ryoma is a very selfless yandere. He doesn't see you in a bad light, nor does he accuse you of doing any wrong. Why? Oh, that's because you're the only person who was ever nice to him. 

It's a cruel world we live in and he has seen the worst some days. His appearance plays a big factor into how he's treated and the focal point of his insecurities. Ryoma does not feel capable of doing a lot of things because of it. Still, he does want to prove himself to you; that he deserves the right to stand by your side after putting up with him. Ugh, it makes him sick to his stomach how hopeful and clingy that sounds. He just wishes that he could be as cool as those guys he's seen in shows. The ones who are so unbothered but know when to take action; things he is not. 

Rivals scare and irk Ryoma. All his intrusive and self deprecating thoughts play in his mind when faced with them. It's awful. Why does he keep imagining standing above their corpses? He isn't capable of that—he can't even take a dose of confrontation. It's stupid of him to be annoyed by these rivals or your friends. You don't belong to him nor are you dating him. Still, that is a nice thought. 

Though sometimes these people get him in a depressive state and he never wants to talk about it. It would be attention seeking to tell you how much he craves death whenever things go wrong or when he sees you happily engaging with others. You don't need him, but he really needs you. That's the most selfish thing he's ever thought of. He wants to admit that yeah, you're the reason why he's still alive. Sometimes he wonders why he can't have this and then he looks at himself. Would it really be too much to ask for? Maybe, but over time he has come to see that he wants to live. So no one is going to take his very reason to walk another day. No one. 

[yanderecrazysie]

Twisted Zoo Chapter Eight

This is based on the stories of a keeper reader with the octotrio by @ashensgrotto and @merakiui .

Also @twistedcece @cenatour @ursinaw @xiaopleasecomehome @bearshideout @koebishrimpuwu @vash-yuu @help-whatdoimakemyusername @secret-potion @magmdnv @sunshine-for-serotonin @mel-star636 @silkkorchid @thatpersonuouknow @the-ace-reader @pamv11 @coffee-or-hot-cocoa @hrhqueenfox @goseew @luxthestrange @juno-of-wonderland @who-mst @despairingy-obsessed @lanxianschoenheit @ceramic-raven @sirenetheblogger @a13x15a5133p @abcdontbotherme @m0063576 @kimdourden @rammylog @starshiningsirius @im-here-for-the-fun-of-it @the-monochrome-jester @leleunderscore06 @tinymonke @lonelybluesworld @owodi @girl-nahh-two @obeythehuman @berry-efoy @ivorette @the-broken-truth and @thisisafish123 wanted to be tagged! Let me know if anyone else wants to be tagged for future chapters. If you no longer want to be tagged, please tell me! (Some of the tags might not have worked, and I’m sorry if so!)

Summary: You’re a brand new zookeeper at The Halfling Zoo- a place where half-animals live in captivity. Your job is simple- feed them and study them. Your main worry is that one of the more dangerous halflings might kill you. 

Unfortunately, that may become the least of your worries.

Next Chapter: Chapter Nine

WARNINGS: none

Note: All characters are aged up, since there will be mature themes in future parts.

Also, I can’t promise I’ll finish this. I suck at finishing stories.

—-------------------------------------------------------

“Hey, (Y/n)! What have you got there?” Ace was quick to greet you when you walked into the bird exhibit, balancing a box of donuts in one hand as you closed the door behind you.

“I brought donuts!” you said with a wide smile. Ace’s face lit up, “Oh sweet! Is there a cherry flavored one?”

“Huh?” you were surprised by the request, “I’m not entirely sure that exists… either way, I’m afraid I don’t have that flavor. I have strawberry frosted ones though.”

“I’ll take it,” Ace said, reaching greedily for the box in your hand. You walked closer to him and popped the lid open.

“There are so many flavors!” Ace gasped at the sight of the box’s contents, “Say what you want about humans, but they’re real masters at making food.”

“Yup, we’re pretty good at food,” you laughed.

Ace took a donut with pink frosting and sprinkles out of the box and studied it, “Looks kinda girly.”

“Doesn’t matter what it looks like,” you snorted, “The taste is the only thing that matters.”

Ace took a bite and chewed for a moment, savoring the flavor, before his eyes lit up with excitement, “Delicious!” He ate the rest of the donut in two bites.

“So you like cherry?” you asked.

“Cherry pie, at least,” Ace said, “In the rainforest, I lived near a village, and a kind old lady used to give cherry pies to all the halflings.”

“That’s really nice of her,” you said with a fond smile, “Was she sad to see you leave?”

“She died,” Ace said, looking away, “She was long gone by the time I left the rainforest.”

“I’m so sorry,” you said, but Ace merely shrugged.

You reached out and took one of Ace’s hands in your own, “I’ll try to bring you a cherry pie one of these days, when I get better at cooking, okay?”

Ace smiled at you, “I’d like that.” He cleared his throat, eyes looking a little watery as he suddenly spread his colorful wings and flew into his birdhouse.

You turned to Deuce’s cage and found him already watching you. 

“Want a donut?” you asked.

He gave you a reproachful look but dipped his hand into the box you offered to him anyways. He chose a simple glazed donut and put it aside for later. You had the feeling he might not be one for sweets.

Still, he looked up at you with a soft smile, a light blush, and a “thank you”. You smiled and told him, “No problem, Deuce.”

You decided to go to Trey next, even though he creeped you out a little with the way he looked at you, as though he knew everything about you with one glance. 

You found him waiting patiently for you to approach him, despite him being an owl in the middle of the day. “I’m surprised you’re not sleeping,” you told him.

“I could never sleep through your visit,” Trey said softly.

“That’s surprisingly sweet,” you replied with a smile.

“Surprisingly?” Trey asked, “Am I not allowed to be sweet?”

“No, it’s just…” you pushed aside your misgivings- it was probably rude of you to be so creeped out by a halfling that did nothing wrong. Owls always had a severe kind of look to them, that’s probably why he scared you, “Nevermind. Would you like a donut?”

Trey took one from your box and smiled at you, “Long time since sweets.”

“When was the last time you had one?” you asked.

“Used to cook. Made tarts,” he explained.

“You made tarts?” you asked, surprised, “I didn’t know halflings could cook!”

“I could,” Trey said, a proud smile sliding across his face.

“That’s amazing!” your earlier misgivings were forgotten. Your heart melted from how soft his smile was. He looked so innocently happy, thinking back to when he made tarts.

He turned his bright smile on you as he took a small bite from the donut he had selected, “I wish I could make tart for you.” 

“I’m not sure how that would work, but maybe someday we could find a way. I would really love to try one of your tarts, Trey.”

His smile widened, “There is a way.”

Suddenly, you felt as though his smile was wrong somehow, as though there was something darker behind his words. Even so, you asked, “What way is that?”

Trey lifted a finger to his lips, corners of his mouth curling upwards, “Secret.”

“Alright then,” you sighed, “Well, I’ve got to give donuts to the others. Bye Trey.”

“Goodbye, (Y/n),” he replied, watching as you walked over to the flamingo’s cage.

You stepped onto the marshland and lifted the box high, “Hey, Riddle, Cater, I have donuts!”

Cater ran forward with a loud “oooh”, but you were more surprised with Riddle’s reaction. The red-haired halfling picked up a strawberry frosted donut with all the care in the world, as though it were a precious, fragile object. He stared at it for a while, even as Cater chowed down on his chocolate donut.

“You brought these… for us?” Riddle asked, “Why?”

“I brought some for the lions, hyenas, and wolves, so I thought it would only be fair,” you said with a shrug.

Riddle continued to stare at his donut in awe until Cater teasingly wrapped an arm around his shoulders, “Riddle, you are going to eat it, right?”

Riddle’s face turned red immediately and he stuffed the donut into his mouth, tearing a large bite out of it in embarrassment. You held back a giggle and reached out a hand to pat his red hair, “It’s okay, I’m really glad you like it.”

Riddle looked up, face red as a tomato, and met your gaze. His blue eyes widened and he ducked his head, somehow turning even redder. He hurried away, still holding tightly onto his strawberry frosted donut. Cater chuckled and turned back to you.

“Thank you for the donuts. Riddle likes sweets,” he said, “Very much.”

“I didn’t know that about him,” you said, “I’ll keep that in mind.”

“Bring him a strawberry tart,” Cater said in a stage whisper.

“Trey said he makes tarts,” you said.

Cater’s eyes widened, “Yes, I know. Riddle and Trey were childhood friends.”

“That’s so cool!” you took a glance at Trey’s cage and was glad to see it was close enough to the flamingo’s cage that they could talk to each other.

“Yes, well,” Cater looked suddenly uncomfortable, “Riddle’s childhood was not… Well, that’s up to him to share.”

“Oh…” you frowned, looking after the retreating male with sympathy, “I’ll definitely bring him a strawberry tart soon.”

“Thank you,” Cater said, swooping over and landing a kiss on your cheek. You gasped in surprise and placed your fingers over the spot he had kissed. Cater chuckled and waved, running after Riddle and leaving you behind, standing there dumbstruck.

Finally, you managed to pull yourself together and shook your head with a laugh. All of the halflings were so different, and Cater certainly was a character.

You left the flamingo cage and headed for the peacock cage. Vil gave you a disdainful look as you approached them, but Epel and Rook drew closer with interest. 

“Hey, I’ve got donuts!” you sang out. None of them looked particularly thrilled, but they still all took one from your box.

“I’d like to get to know you all better,” you said with a friendly smile, “Is there anything I could bring you guys as a gift?”

“Moisturizer,” Vil said, turning his head as though he couldn’t stand to look at you. It kind of ticked you off, if you were being honest.

“I actually have some in my locker. I can go grab it if you want. I have lotion too.”

Vil and Rook stared at you as though you had hung the stars in the sky. Epel didn’t seem to care as much, merely munching away on his donut. You smiled at him, “You’re looking handsome as ever today, Epel.”

He choked on the donut, blush rising on his cheeks and a hesitant smile gracing his lips as he looked at you fondly, “you remembered.”

“Of course I did!” you said with a smile. Epel blushed and looked away, his feathers puffing out in embarrassment.

“Now, I’ll go get that moisturizer and lotion for you, Vil,” you said, “Do you want anything, Rook?”

“Your kindness is astounding, mademoiselle,” Rook said, fluttering his eyelids as a smile swept across his face, “But I will be happy with moisturizer as well.”

Less than ten minutes later, you were sitting with Rook and Vil, all of your skin care products spread between you all. Vil looked like Christmas had come early.

“Thank you,” he said, genuine to the core. It was the first time you had truly seen him smile- he was truly beautiful with one.

Rook looked on happily, pleased to see the both of you happy. It was a peaceful scene.

If only it could stay that way forever.

[regalbootie]

Trying Something New In the Bedroom Chapter 3

Chapter 3 NSFW 18+ NO MINORS PLEASE

Larissa Weems x Reader

Warnings: NSFW, overstimulation, spanking again cos I'm a whore, shapeshifter peen, Dom Mommy.

Notes: This was requested by the lovely @marilynthornhilllover and I had also received great help with this fanfic from many people i gotta say you guys are awesome. there will be a chapter 4! it just may not be rather smutty hehehe.

Requests are still open and I'm also taking suggestions for other characters to write about so if you craving something ill give it a shot! let me know what you all think of this anyways!

You pout as the cabin slowly goes out of sight, wishing you could stay there forever with your wife. It was bliss a week of rough fucking along with some tenderness of curling up in front of the fireplace together breathing in the calmness that the homey little cabin provided.

“Oh Darling, I promise we’ll come back soon” Larissa ran a hand over your leg, her fingers drawing soothing shapes that had no meaning. Resting your head against the window and burning the memory of the scenery into your brain when you notice the car rolling to a standstill.

“what’s wrong darling?” looking over at your wife you notice a fork in the road.

“I’m just trying to remember which way to go my love” Squinting hard like she was envisioning a big sign saying this way. “I think it's right” starting to turn the car to go right you place a hand on her thigh.

“I’m pretty sure its left darling”

“No I am sure it is right” Larissa starts the car again “and I am pretty sure it is left” you scowl and let out a huff. Larissa turns to stare at you with that look that says ‘don’t be a brat right now.'

“Ok go right just don’t complain to me when you realize you went the wrong way” now it's Larissa’s turn to scowl and she takes the right turn. Smirking when she reaches the main road and lifting a brow to say ‘I told you so’.

You stick your tongue out at her and she rolls her eyes at you. The rest of the drive was smooth sailing and it was dark once the car rolled up outside the school, a storm had arrived at the same time and thunder was booming in the distance.

Jumping at the strike of lightning the two of you grab your bags as fast as possible making your way through the dim and empty school to your shared quarters. None of the teachers were arriving till tomorrow so it would just be the two of you as the grounds keeper and cleaners would be home hours ago.

Unpacking you notice Larissa is nowhere to be seen, huffing you unpack the last of everything and go hunting for your wife. Noticing a glow of light coming from under the door to her office you knock lightly as the door swing slowly open to the most beautiful sight before you.

Slowly you come up behind her as she gazes into the fireplace the fire roaring before you. Wrapping your arms around her waist resting your tired head on her back, feeling the tension release from her you lay kisses along her shoulders.

Turning in your arms you couldn’t help but smile up at her beautiful face, she was like an angel sent from heaven the fire casting a halo-like effect over her, but little did you know she was going to be the devil.

“You were being very bratty earlier darling” she pulled away from your arms and moved to sit in the armchair beside the glowing embers. “I think you should be punished for how you acted towards your mistress”

Blinking slowly, you realized what feeling she was making run through your body. The wave of excitement traveled down your spine, leaving chills all over your back. Licking your lips, faking a look of innocence for your mistress.

Patting her thigh, you slowly moved to lay across her legs, “I’m sorry Mistress.” Your core was already starting to throb with need as you lay over her like a good little pet for her.

“Oh, I don’t think sorry is going to cut it right now baby” running her hands up over your legs digging her nails in leaving red marks in her wake making you shiver and arch into her more. Reaching your core, she continues dragging her nails and suddenly rips your panties off, making you jump in her lap and even more juices gather and begging for her to taste.

A low seductive chuckle rises from Larissa it almost sounded like a growl and, you knew you were in for a real punishment tonight. Lifting your skirt, she roughly clawed up them from your core, lifting her hands to land rough spanks.

Crying out and yelping “Mommy please” you beg with her after each spank until your ass was glowing bright red and the heat from the fire was not helping with the pain, but the pleasure mixed with it was all-consuming.

“Oh, you want to please mommy? Let me see how good you're being” running her fingers through your folds, her fingers instantly drenched with your juices. Feeling her long fingers run through you was so painstakingly good, you had to stop yourself from gutting your hips back and displeasing mistress.

“Oh, look how good you’re being” licking her fingers clean moaning at how divine you tasted on her tongue. God, you wished you could suck those fingers, your thoughts earning a whimper as you stop yourself from drooling.

“Up you get” Barely giving you an opportunity to get up from her lap you fall to the floor scrambling to your feet, whimpering at the fabric of your skirt brushing against your burning cheeks.

Grabbing and pouring a glass of wine Larissa rested back into her seat, “play with yourself darling I want to see my little plaything warm herself up for me”

 A warmth runs up your face with her request and you shuffle on your feet “don’t go shy on me now, you were a whimpering messy slut just now” sipping on her whine she takes you by the waist guiding you to staddle her. Your dripping core meeting her front making it throb even more at the friction.

“Come on be good for mommy” she takes your hand with her free hand guiding it down, rubbing them over your dripping cunt. Moaning you dropped your head to rest it on her shoulder “fuck mommy” bucking your hips the new stimulation sending shock waves straight through your entire body.

“Keep going I want to watch you” She starts to strip you as you pleasure yourself over her, your fingers gliding over your core and how that you were free from clothes you used your free hand to grab your breast. Palming it as you pinched your own nipples, getting lost in the pleasure you were building you closed your eyes as your head fell back your eyes rolling to the back of your head.

Larissa couldn’t help but watch you, the way your eyebrows knitted together and the way you bit down on your bottom lip it was like a goddess had come down to bless her with your mere presence. Sipping on more wine Larissa drank all of you in her eyes roaming every inch of you.

The pleasure in you had built too quickly you didn’t think you would have been so close to cumming but here you were writhing above her gasping for air. “cum for me darling I want to see you”

All it took was those words, her voice was raspy from the wine sending that last piece of pleasure breaking the dam, a shiver running up your back. “Yes mommy” you cried out for her letting her know that she was the last piece you needed. Your hands jolted as the lingering pleasure ripped through you, slowing down once the stimulation got too much.

“oh no baby keep going” she took your hand again making you apply more pressure and picking up the speed. “It’s too much mommy” your hand falters in her grip but she keeps going making you rub your clit as your body shakes from the overstimulation.

“Let mommy help you” setting her glass down on the table beside her Larissa runs her fingers through your folds, slowly inserting her fingers inside your pussy instantly clenching around her. Biting the inside of your mouth you tried to regain your focus, the pleasure of everything was drowning you. Your eyes flutter open to look at Larissa who was licking her lips, her eyes were burning with desire, and it looked animalistic.

“Keep going until I decide you can stop lovely” her free hand guided your hips to thrust down onto her fingers. You were fucking yourself on her fingers and nothing could be hotter, you were on fire your whole body was burning up and the only thing that could fix it was those long fingers that were reaching those deep spots inside you that make your toes curl.

“Fuck mommy it feels so good” her grip tightening on your hip was strong enough to leave marks. Her other hand was still holding your hand in place making you rub your clit, moving your hand to move faster over your swollen clit.

Your legs were shaking the overstimulation was immense and not having a break between your first orgasm had you gasping and panting as your next one was building too fast for you to keep up with. She kept hitting that perfect spot in you pulling sinful moans and cries from your lips.

“God you look like a sinful mess baby” leaning forward she laid a soft kiss behind your ear making your knees buckle ever so slightly making her fingers hit even deeper. A scream of pleasure was all you could make and she attacked your neck.

She was ruthless as she bit and suck leaving deep red marks along your neck, it was unbearable the pleasure that was consuming you “Pl..please please I'm going to cum” sobbing as she bit that sensitive spot, you went ridged as you gushed over her fingers.

Screaming curses you shook, feeling like you were being torn in half with the sparks flying through your body as you came all over her fingers. “yessss just like that for mommy, let it go, ride it out”

Forcing your hips to keep moving as you shook, Larissa grinned you were a masterpiece of a mess and she was the artist. Licking over your bruised neck she slowly withdrew her fingers and it finally felt like you could breathe again and your body slumped against her.

“oh baby I am not finished with you yet” hooking her arms under your legs she stood and you scrambled to grab onto her holding tight. Your pulse quickened realizing there was more to come, your pussy was throbbing and you didn’t know how much more you could take.

You could feel the cold wood on your back as she lay you down over her desk, taking a step back to gaze over your sweat slicken body. “fuck you are so beautiful like this” your eyes were closed as you tried to catch your breath still and you could hear the faint noise of a zipper over the blood thumbing in your ears.

Next was the still new but familiar sensation of Larissa’s new favorite toy and also your new favorite, she ran her cock through your folds making sure her tip rubbed up against your clit spending more shock waves through you, jumping on the table from the over stimulation.

“Is it still too much for you baby?” Your pussy was a mess it was throbbing and spasming still and Larissa had no intentions of slowing down. Moving her shaft to your entrance she slowly pushed just her tip in, as if mirroring each other both of you had your eyes rolling back.

“Yes, mommy but it's so good” whining your answer right back at her, Larissa’s knees almost buckled with how good you felt, your over-stimulated pussy clenching around her instantly and almost pulling her over the edge. Resting her head on your shoulder she worshipped your body leaving kisses across your skin.

“Good girl” She started her thrusts going slow so she could torcher you a little longer but also so she wouldn’t cum so quickly. You were a beautiful mess below her, and she wanted to worship you, she wanted to get down on her knees and pray to your dripping temple.

“You’re my good girl baby, you’ve done so well tonight” Biting down on your ear lobe you pulled your tired arms to wrap around her running your hands through her hair and pulling her closer to you so she can continue her prayers over your skin.

She couldn’t stop touching you all over one of her hands held one of your legs so they could stay wrapped around her while the other ran over your neck caressing down to reach your breast palming it in her hand “I love your body so much darling it’s a gift from the gods just so I can defile it with my lust”

Throwing your head back whimpering you clench harder around her shaft, you loved her fingers but having her inside you filling you fulling and stretching you deliciously as your pussy wrapped around her.

Picking up the pace Larissa started to gasp and whimper as she continued her travels along your body, swapping her hand on your breast for her mouth causing you to scream out more and your legs tighten pulling her deeper within earning a thrust to that special spot deep inside nearly making you black out.

The room was filled with the sounds of slapping skin as Larissa drove deeper continuing to hit that spot now that she found it. “I... I’m going to ahh” trying to talk was so hard your brain was mush at this point and stringing a sentence together was getting more and more difficult as your walls began to tighten but Larissa knew what you were going to say, she could feel it and she wanted it so badly.

“That good baby you cum for mommy, I’m so close too I want to fill you up while you milk me dry”

The next sound you make was a scream that ripped all the air out of your lungs, it was like you could see the stars and the heavens above but you were slammed back down to earth when you heard Larissa’s growl as she came to her climax.

It was animalistic the way she drove herself deeper making sure you took every inch of her, she was drowning in you her eyes her as dark as the night sky as the lust and feel of you drove her to fill you with every drop. She was ridged as she bit down hard on your shoulder, she was shaking as the pleasure coursed through her.

It took a moment for you both to grab your breaths but having her collapsed against your body helped ground you and you couldn’t be more thankful for that. It took Larissa a minute more to come back but you didn’t mind as you curled her loose strands of hair around your fingers while the other soothingly ran up and down her back.

“That was amazing darling” huffing out a breath as she changed her core back to its natural beauty, so she didn’t hurt you by having to slide out. "you weren't so bad yourself" giggling like a child at her.

“Let's get you cleaned up” On wobbly legs, she scooped you up in her arms to carry you back to bed. Laying you so gently onto the bed and gracing your face with feather-light kisses, Larissa was always a completely different person after sex she was so caring and attentive to you always making sure you were well taken care of.

Fetching a cool cloth she cleaned you up and wrapped you up in a blanket, “get some rest darling” moving to get off the bed you grab her wrist.

“Cuddles?” putting on your best doe-eyed look knowing she’ll never refuse you and cuddles. A big smile grew on your face as she pulled the blankets back to curl up beside you. “Always my love” wrapping her arms around you pulling you closer into her embrace.

The thunderstorm had started to fade away and the room was filled with the soft rumbling of distant thunder and soft breaths as you kissed her softly to sleep thinking to yourself how lucky you were to have this woman wrapped up in your arms.

…

It had been a month since your little getaway and the students had been back for a while, unfortunately a flu had been going around the school and no one could escape it. You had been one of those victims of the sickness that plagued you for 2 weeks now.

Here you were slumped over the toilet for the millionth time today, not even making it to the staff toilets you had to charge into the students to expel what little of breakfast you had left in your stomach.

The students inside were certainly startled and ran straight out as you heaved, resting your head over the cold stall wall you heard a familiar sound of heels travelling down the hall outside. “Love!?” Larissa called out for you, and you cursed the student that went running to the principle, you didn’t want to concern her and it had taken you a week just to convince her to let you return to work.

“I’m ok Larissa jus...” the stall door flew open the light shining in and Larissa gasped at the sight of you. Your hair was a mess and you were so pale it scared her, swooping you in her arms she stormed down the hall. “I knew I shouldn’t have let you go back to work”

Kicking the door open to your private quarters she gently lay you down on the sofa “we are going to the doctor” you begin to interject but she shushes you earning a scowl.

“you have had this flu for 2 weeks now and you just keep getting worse darling!” she was rushing around the flat grabbing her things together and your coat. “we cant go now Larissa I have classes!”

“I have already had Professor Yen fill in for you, they will cover for you until we get this sorted”

[literallykenmaandshoyo]

You Daft Dimbo

Ron Weasley x Female!Gryffindor Reader

Warnings: Language, Ron having his seizure in Slughorn's office

Word Count: 3.2k

Author's Note: Hooray for my first Ron Weasley fic! :D I've been on a Harry Potter kick recently, rewatching all of the movies for like the 200th time (each) and I feel like there's not too many fics about Ron! Ron was one of the first characters I really fell in love with (Before Fred lolol I just want all of the Weasley's.) and I hope this did him justice! This is based during Half Blood Prince (Lavender Brown) times, for a time setting hehe! Hope you all enjoy!

~Mod Shoyo <3

After helping Gryffindor in their tremendous victory, the new keeper, Ron Weasley, became a hot commodity. The night of the game, everyone gathered in the Gryffindor common room to honor and celebrate how amazingly well he did at preventing Slytherin from scoring. Harry, Y/N, and Hermione were all watching as people fawned over Ron.

“It’s nice that Ron has the spotlight, isn’t it?” Y/N giggled, watching red and gold confetti fall over his fiery Weasley locks.

“Yeah, it’s nice when it isn’t me for once.” Harry replied with a smile. Y/N and Hermione both rolled their eyes and scoffed.

As Ron came down from the pedestal he was standing on, Lavender Brown grabbed his hand tightly in hers. Y/N watched with furrowed eyebrows as she gripped his face in her palms, smashing her lips onto his. Her eyes widened and she turned to Hermione, watching her expression shift as well. When Y/N turned back around, Ron’s arms were wrapped around Lavender’s waist, pulling her into his body even more.

Y/N rolled her eyes and walked out of the common room, Hermione following her immediately. As the two best friends made it into one of the empty stairwells, Y/N finally sucked in a large breath, sniffling as she exhaled shakily. Hermione rubbed her back comfortingly and sighed, sitting down with her on one of the steps.

“I-is Ron even close with Lavender?” Y/N choked out. “I’ve never seen them interact once until tonight.”

Hermione rolled her eyes. “I've only seen her look at Ron from afar. It's quite creepy, if you ask me.”

Y/N shook her head and looked down into her lap. Her lip was quivering whenever she wasn’t talking. As her teardrops hit the floor, another set of footsteps came down the stairs. Harry had followed Y/N and Hermione, his posture stiffening when he could hear Y/N crying. Hermione looked up at Harry and gave him a disapproving look.

“I’m not sure what’s gotten into him,” Harry sighed. “Bloody twit, he doesn’t know how to deal with so many compliments at once.”

"Obviously," Hermione stated matter-of-factly.

Y/N stayed quiet, looking out one of the barred windows and keeping her eyes on the moon. She sniffled and found herself getting lost in the night sky. It always looked so much prettier when she had a lot on her mind. It almost served as a comfort to her, because who knows what all is going on in that black sky? And here she was, just staring at a small fraction of whatever was really out there.

Two sets of footsteps echoed through the stairwell and Y/N turned at the sound of them. Low and behold, Ron and Lavender came bustling through, both of them out of breath as they stared at the three Gryffindors. Lavender bit her lip and took note of Y/N's bloodshot and puffy eyes. She shifted her gaze to Ron with a very sneaky smirk, giggling softly as she tugged on his arm.

“I think this room’s taken…”

Ron chuckled softly and finally followed her down the stairs, sparing Y/N one last glance before they set out to another set of stairs. Y/N let out a harsh scoff and stood up angrily, stomping back up the stairs into the common room. She’d much rather go to bed than have to deal with the look Ron gave her before Lavender dragged him away.

---------

Ron was starting to get unbearable.

Despite how much Y/N liked him, she couldn’t help but start to slowly despise him the more he hung out with Lavender. Apparently they were dating now, so now there really was no hope for Y/N. Tonight was something different, however.

Harry called Y/N into the boys dormitories with no context, her mind racing as she opened the door. When the room was revealed to her, Ron was slumped in a chair staring out of the large window that was in the back of the room. Y/N's eyebrows furrowed as she walked over to Harry, also managing to get a better look at Ron in the process.

“What’s up with him?” Y/N queried, watching Harry’s slender finger point towards the box of chocolates Ron was clutching to his chest.

On the top, Y/N saw a sticky note with some handwriting on it. It was so neat, she knew it was a girl’s. She squinted her eyes to read the print and made out what it had said. 

A gift from me to you, Harry.

-Romilda <3

Y/N turned to look at Harry with confusion, wondering why Ron was acting so weird if all he ate was chocolate.

The more she thought, the more she started to remember about Slughorn’s class and his lesson on amortentia potions. Y/N audibly groaned and turned to look at Harry.

“You can’t be serious,”

Harry raised his eyebrows and let out a sigh through his nostrils. “I wouldn’t have called you if I wasn’t, I’m afraid.”

Ron was babbling some nonsense, talking about how Romilda was the one for him. How she reminded him of the moon in the sky. Y/N nearly gagged at the sound of all of his heartfelt professions of love for Romilda. He really needed to stop eating everything that he sees, this amortentia spell being the prime example of it.

Once Harry and Y/N managed to lead Ron to Slughorn’s office, she grabbed the brass knocker in the middle of the door and slammed it three times. After a few moments, the door opened ever so slightly, only enough for Slughorn to peek his face through the crack in the door.

“Mr. Potter, Miss L/N, it’s past your curfews,”

Y/N held the door open. “Professor it’s an emergency, we think Ron ate some chocolate laced with amortentia!”

Slughorn opened the door all the way, ushering his three students inside before closing the door behind him. Slughorn walked over to his desk, opening a couple of drawers before pulling out a small chalice and a glass bottle.

“With how well you’ve been doing in my class, I’d figure you could whip up a cure in no time, Harry!” Professor Slughorn complimented.

Once Slughorn finished mixing his herbs and liquids together, he poured the finished product into the chalice he brought out. Y/N took a peek and saw that it was a crimson red liquid. It didn’t look thick and honestly, it reminded her of Kool-Aid. As Ron took the cup in his hands, he looked up at Y/N.

“What’s this?” He questioned, smelling what was inside the cup.

“It’s tonic, for your nerves,” Slughorn responded.

Ron smiled sheepishly and brought the chalice up to his lips, taking a large sip of the cure Slughorn made. After he swallowed, his smile slowly started to fade, his eyes sharpening as he looked around the room. His eyes met with Y/N's and he finally snapped out of his love-struck daze.

“What happened to me?” Ron asked, still staring around the room like he hadn’t known how he even got there. Honestly, it wasn’t a completely irrational thing for him to say right now.

Harry sniggered and looked down at his friend with a smirk. “Love potion.”

Y/N sighed and took a seat on the couch where Ron was sitting. “A really really strong one. It was meant for Harry too.”

Ron furrowed his eyebrows and looked up at Harry. “If it was meant for you then why did it affect me?”

Y/N let out a soft laugh along with Harry. “Romilda Vane laced some chocolates for Harry with amortentia. You, being hungry, Ron Weasley, took the chocolates off Harry’s bed and ate them!”

Ron sighed and rubbed his face with the palm of his hands. Slughorn chuckled and and bustled around his desk once more, pulling out a bottle similar to a wine bottle along with four glasses. He poured the contents of whatever was in the bottle into each cup, bringing them over to hand to each of them.

“Here you go, you three,” Slughorn began. “To life!” Y/N, Harry, and Slughorn all clinked their cups together.

Ron was standing in front of the fire, already taking a sip out of his cup. Before the rest of them could take a drink from their cup, Ron fell to the floor with a harsh thud. Y/N's eyes darted over to Ron’s convulsing body, the veins in his neck popping out of his skin as his mouth started to foam. Y/N lifted Ron’s head up, starting to panic. She looked up at Harry and Slughorn, asking them to help. While Slughorn stayed looking baffled at what was going on, Harry rushed over to Slughorn’s cabinet.

Once Harry got his hands on the bezoar that was in one of the drawers, he came rushing towards Y/N. He got onto his knees and opened the packaging, grabbing the bezoar and stuffing it into Ron’s mouth. He had Y/N help make sure that Ron swallowed it, the two of them waiting in anticipation, hoping that Ron would wake up.

Moments went by, but for Y/N it felt like years. Ron hadn’t been breathing for all but five seconds, and when she finally saw his chest rise again, she let out a breath that she didn’t even know she was holding. Ron sat up, letting out a hearty cough and hunching over the carpet. Y/N and Harry felt their hearts finally start to relax again, panting as Ron turned to Harry.

“These girls are going to kill me…”

-----------

The next morning, Ron was on bed rest in Madame Pomfrey’s. Although the bezoar helped, it also made Ron very ill. Madame Pomfrey managed to help him go to sleep, reassuring Y/N and Harry that Ron would be fine once he woke up. Y/N hadn’t left Ron’s side since he had first got brought to the medical wing. She sat in her chair at his side, Hermione sitting on the other side, watching him sleep and making sure that nothing else alarming was going to happen to him.

As Dumbledore, Slughorn, McGonagall, Snape, and Harry all entered the room they let their eyes settle on the unconscious Weasley boy. He looked as pale as the white blanket that was covering his body, the fabric brought all the way up to his neck. He would’ve been hard to see had it not been for his bright red hair. 

“Very good work on using the bezoar, Harry.” Dumbledore announced. “Horrace, you should be very proud of your student.”

Slughorn let out a shaky chuckle and nodded his head. “Y-Yes, very very proud…”

McGonagall spoke up in a more rational tone. “Let’s face it, had Y/N and Harry not acted as quickly as they did, Mr. Weasley would be dead!”

As Dumbledore studied the contents of the bottle that Slughorn poured their drinks with last night, Lavender Brown came running in, immediately asking for her Won-Won.

Y/N rolled her eyes the second she heard her shrill voice.

“Where’s my Won-Won?” She panicked, scanning each bed she passed as she ran through the medical wing. “Has he been asking for me?”

Y/N turned and looked at Hermione, rolling her eyes and making Hermione chuckle. The two friends stared at each other with a mutual hate for the way that Lavender sounded, let alone the way she acted now that she was Ron’s girlfriend. Y/N stood up from her chair at Ron’s side and eyed Lavender down angrily.

“What’s she doing here?” Lavender spat, eyeing Y/N down with an ugly stare.

“My friend is in the medical wing and you’re asking why I’m here?” Y/N fired back just as angrily. “What the hell are you doing here?"

Lavender gasped slightly. “I happen to be his girlfriend.”

Hermione stood up now, turning to face Lavender with a look similar to Y/N's.

“Funny how you’re his girlfriend, but only came to the medical wing just now. Y/N's been here since he got admitted.”

Lavender was anything but Ron’s girlfriend. If being boyfriend and girlfriend just meant you only used each other for secret makeout sessions in unattended stairwells, then they were soulmates. But Y/N knew that Lavender was far from being Ron’s girlfriend. With the way that Y/N always dreamed of treating Ron, Lavender just didn’t compare. 

“Oh, don’t make me laugh! I suppose you want me to break up with him now that he’s suddenly all interesting?” Lavender whined.

Y/N gasped and let out dry scoff, pointing at the state that Ron was in.

“Are you stupid? Ron was poisoned you daft dimbo! He’s been my best friend way longer than you’ve known him, and he’s always been interesting to me.” Y/N spat.

Harry and Hermione smirked at Y/N's remark, not sure that they wanted to point out that she subtly mentioned her crush on Ron. The teasing would come another time, right now? They were just proud that she was sticking up for not just for herself, but for Ron too.

Ron began to shift in his bed, soft groans and murmurs falling from his lightly chapped lips. Lavender gasped and walked closer to the foot of Ron’s bed. She grabbed his leg in between her horribly painted nails, gripping it tightly.

“Ah… see? He senses my presence.” She stated matter-of-factly. “Don’t worry Won-Won, I’m here! I’m here.”

Ron’s lips parted slightly and small noises were leaving his mouth. Everyone leaned forward, curious of what he was trying to say. Lavender leaned even closer, practically throwing herself on top of his body to listen to him.

“Y-Y/N.” He whispered. Y/N could’ve sworn she was going insane. Had he really said her name?

Maybe she got hit with some amortentia and it was making her go crazy.

Ron spoke again, this time his voice was nice and clear for everyone to hear.

“Y-Y/N.”

Y/N's heart swelled with love as she realized he had in fact said her name the first time. Lavender stood up and looked at Y/N with a look that could kill. Tears welled up in her eyes and she angrily stomped her foot, turning on her heel and running out of the room crying. Dumbledore made a comment about the harsh sting of love, but Y/N didn’t know what he was talking about. The love she felt in her heart right now was something out of a movie. 

Y/N gripped Ron’s hand tightly, her heart swelling even more when she could feel him weakly squeeze her hand. Y/N couldn’t wipe the smile off her face as she scooted her chair closer to Ron, lightly caressing his hand with her thumb.

“Aww, look at your little Won-Won.” Harry teased, trying to copy Lavender’s same tone of voice.

Y/N turned to look at Harry and bursted out laughing, playfully rolling her eyes. “Shut up, let me have this moment.”

Harry and Hermione burst into a fit of giggles, standing up and following the teachers out of the wing, leaving Y/N and Ron all by themselves. Y/N let out a small sigh and reached up to run her hands through Ron’s hair.

“When you wake up, I really hope that you see how much you mean to me, Weasley.”

Ron groaned as Y/N ran her fingers through his hair, Y/N giggling as she continued to lightly scratch his scalp with her fingernails.

Ron was so spoiled, but only when Y/N allowed it.

--------------

As soon as Ron woke up, he was greeted with Y/N right by his side. She smiled and gasped, throwing her arms around him as soon as he sat up in bed. He smiled softly and wrapped his arms around her, nuzzling his face into her hair. She was freshly showered, Ron could smell her shampoo and conditioner still trapped in her hair. He stroked her back lovingly, trying to hide the sound of his heart pounding against his chest.

“I’m glad you’re okay, I was so worried about you.” Y/N admitted quietly, her lips right next to his ear and even then he could barely hear her.

Ron smirked and hugged her tighter. “I’m okay. Thanks to you and Harry, of course.”

Y/N smiled and rested her face in the crook of his neck, despite how long he stayed in bed, she could still smell that classic Weasley musk that she had fallen in love with. When her and Ron finally pulled away and Ron was free to leave, he grabbed her hand and intertwined it with his.

They walked down the quiet halls of Hogwarts together, the night sky shining brightly through all of the windows. They stopped in one of the corridors and stared at one of the windows together, Y/N finding the same comfort in the night sky that she found the night Lavender and Ron first kissed.

“You really never left my side?” Ron questioned. Y/N nodded her head. “I only left to go take a shower and come back…” She admitted.

Ron’s heart filled with adoration for his best friend, his blue eyes shifting over to look at her features. Her long eyelashes looked so gorgeous, but they were only accessories compared to the beauty of her eyes. He sighed softly and pulled Y/N towards him, forcing her to look at him now.

“I know I’ve been through a lot when it comes to girls,” Ron admits. “But you’re the only girl that I really have deep feelings for.”

Y/N gasped. This is the confession she had been waiting for, for three years she dreamed of this very moment.

She was finally getting it.

“I’m sorry I put you through all of this,” He licked his lips and met her eyes.

“But I’d really like to try with you, if you’ll let me.”

Y/N visibly relaxed. A small blush tinted her cheeks and her lips spread into a gorgeous smile.

“It’s about time, Weasley.”

Ron furrowed his eyebrows with a smirk before Y/N grabbed the sides of his face in her palms, smashing her lips onto his. Ron was easily taken aback by the action, but the second he snapped out of it, his hands fell to her hips and tightly gripped them, pulling her body into his. Their chests were pressed flush against one another, their heads bobbing from side to side as they kissed. Y/N felt like her heart was going to explode, she was finally kissing Ron Weasley.

It only took three years of patience and heartbreak.

Once they pulled away, Ron smirked, resting his forehead on her own and staring into her eyes. He chuckled, watching her catch her breath in small, erratic pants.

“I could get used to that,”

Y/N rolled her eyes and kissed him once more, running her fingers through his red hair.

“I’ve been waiting for this for three years, Weasley. I think we need to make up for the lost time.”

Ron chuckled and nodded his head in agreement, grabbing her hips tightly once more and pushing his hips into her own. 

“I’m ready when you are.”

[jqmalikhsgib]

planets aligned

two

note: i changed a detail in the first chapter. eddie has one kid instead of three!

“holy, fuck!” you moaned out. you were currently on your back right now while eddie was eating you out.

it had been two days since you’ve met eddie. the two of you had left the hotel and went straight to his place. his daughter being out with her friends on vacation for the weekend.

you’ve gotten to know more and more about the musician over the last two nights. he was definitely a character. more importantly, he made you cum more times than you could count. eddie was definitely a keeper in so many ways.

you didn’t even have the time or energy to call your best friend and let her know how that preston guy stood you up. you were either too busy laughing or too busy moaning. it’s been the best two days of your life.

eddie hums into your cunt as your phone vibrates. you simply roll your eyes, ignoring the annoying ringing. you grabbed his t-shirt, so close into cumming.

“right there.”

your phone rings once more. “answer it baby. i promise i won’t stop.” he smirks before diving right back into your pussy. you groan but simply answer the phone call.

“what is it?”

“finally! ive been trying to get ahold of you for two days yn! where the hell have you been?!” fariah yells into the phone.

“i—im sorry fariah. i ha—d my phone off.”

“yn? are you okay?”

you look down at eddie as he smirks. he knew you were about to cum. he loved watching you squirm.

“fariah, i cant talk right now. c—all you later.” you didn’t even let her finish what she had to say. you ended the call immediately as your legs start to shake.

“fuck, eddie! that was so good. come here.” eddie lifts his body up and kisses you passionately. you didn’t even care that you tasted yourself. you just needed him to fuck you.

“ready for me baby?” eddie lines himself against your cunt. he slowly thrust into you as you moan out his name softly.

“god, you always feel so good baby.” eddie states. he stills, letting you adjust to his size. when you tapped his shoulder he slowly pulls out of you before thrusting back in.

eddie rest his forehead against yours. you look one another in the eyes as he fucks you nice and slow.

that’s the thing about eddie. he already knew your body. after two days of constantly fucking, he knew when you wanted it nice and slow and knew when you needed him hard!

“feel so full. please.” you didn’t even know what you were asking for. you just knew eddie felt amazing inside of you.

eddie slowly picks up the pace. he lifts up one of your legs and puts it on his shoulder. the new angle leaving you a moaning mess.

“fuck. fuck. fuck. im already so close baby. you always feel so good wrapped around me.”

“please don’t stop, eds. so close baby.”

“yeah?” eddie gently rubs his fingers against your clit. giving you the friction you needed.

eddie pulls all the way out of you before slamming right back in. he knew he hit that spot just by the look on your face.

“cum for me, princess.”

you didn’t even need to be told. you felt yourself let go. eddie hums happily. he continues to fuck into you until he reached his own peak, cumming right inside you.

“god, does it get better each time or am i insane?” you giggle.

eddie laughs and shakes his head. “naw baby, you’re not crazy. it’s just that good.” eddie reaches his bedside table and grabs his cigarette and lighter. he lights it up and turns to you.

“come here.”

you cuddle against him as he blows the smoke away from your face. “i like this. being close to you. i don’t want it to end.” you sigh as you play with the tattoo on his chest.

“trust me baby, neither do i. but we’ll have plenty of time to get to know one another. i told you, im too damn old to be playing these little boy games. need someone to lie next to at night. think i found my girl.” he smirks.

“are we moving too fast?” you asked concerned.

“do you think we are?”

you simply shake your head. you haven’t felt like this in a long time. eddie makes your heart skip a beat. in the last two days he’s really been the best man you’ve ever met. sometimes you feel like you’ve known him your whole life.

“look yn, im not gonna sugar coat shit! i fall hard and fast. been that way since i was a boy. i knew my wife two months before i popped the question and we had a small wedding with our families. she got knocked up within the next month and a half. im not the kinda guy that takes things slow. when i see someone i like or care about, i go all in! that scares most women off. it’s why ive been single for a little while. if you’re in this with me, you’re in! i want you to be apart of my life and apart of my daughters life. i want to get married again eventually, have more kids, and grow old with the next woman i marry. if that frightens you, the door is downstairs. i won’t judge you or hold it against you. i just know what i want, baby.”

you simply shake your head. “im not scared eddie. i want all that and more. im fully in.”

eddie smiles. he kisses you passionately.

“good! cause i don’t know if you know this or not, baby, but im already head over heels.” he states before putting out his cigarette and flipping you onto your back. you squeal!

“gonna need some breakfast in us before we go again, yeah?”

you kiss him gently. “absolutely!”

[daydream-cement]

Hi sorry to bother you, I was wondering if you could do Gwendoline’s characters with a non binary s/o? Also unrelated but I love your work ❤️

Gwen’s Characters With A Non-Binary SO

Authors Note: Thank you so much for requesting this! @bri-sonat wrote for Brienne and Phasma and (of course) double-checked my work as well :))

Larissa Weems

She tries not to be too invasive, but Larissa has many questions about her partner’s identity and how she can support her partner

From her work with the students, she has some experience with using new pronouns and names. She will immediately adjust to her partner’s identity. 

Larissa loves pet names and will double-check to make sure her pet names for her partner are validating and wanted.

She becomes very invested in helping her partner express themselves through their personal style and fashion. If it's wanted, she will use her abilities to help her partner test out different styles and outfits. 

In order to help with dysphoria, Larissa will provide words of affirmation and small acts of service to soothe her partner in whatever way she can.

Larissa is a wonderful confidant so if her partner isn’t out, their identity is safe with her and she will be happy to alter the way she speaks about them depending on the setting. 

She is very quick with compliments and she quickly learns to tailor them so they are genuine affirmations of her partner’s gender. 

If she has any questions about how to help her non-binary students, Larissa is quick to sit down and talk with her partner to gain another perspective. 

Larissa loves so intensely that her partner’s gender is secondary. She is happy to accommodate any changes to make them feel loved. 

Miranda Hilmarson

She is so happy for her partner when they come out to her. She is so proud of them and feels so honored to be trusted with their identity.

She definitely does a TON of research about her partner’s identity as she is worried about seeming ignorant. Post-research she has just a few more questions to make sure she fully understands. 

Miranda is not a great secret keeper but if her partner isn’t out yet, she will guard that secret with her whole being. 

In fear of misgendering her partner, Miranda will practice her partner’s pronouns (or name) in private to make sure she never gets it wrong. If she were to get it wrong, she will apologize profusely and feel terrible. 

(If her partner is out) All of Miranda’s friends will know her partner’s correct pronouns (and/or name) by the sheer amount in which she talks about her partner. She will brag about them and talk about them 24/7 at work.

Miranda loves seeing her partner in clothes so she is happy to offer up a sweatshirt or t-shirt for those dysphoric days. 

Miranda will get a small non-binary pride flag to keep in her apartment to show her partner that “my apartment is a safe space for you.”

She is very supportive (if not completely ecstatic) of her partner to try out new haircuts or styles to better represent their identity. She wants to be there for all the trips to the hairdresser or to the store just so she can be there to support all of the decisions. 

 Miranda tries to understand her partner’s gender to the best of her ability so she can send them memes, posts, and TikToks that could be funny or relatable for her partner. 

Brienne of Tarth

Considering there was no such thing as non-binary (or any form of labels, to be fair) back in Brienne’s time, it would be referred to as “genderless” by both Brienne and her partner.

When Brienne’s significant other first explained it to her and how they felt about their identity, she was a little confused but eventually understood after some questions and answers.

She’s very respectful about what she refers to her partner as and asks them what would be okay and what would not be in terms of “gendered” terms. Eventually landing in “my partner,” and “my romantic companion.”

If her partner wants to alter their name and have Brienne call them something else in private, she would be more than supportive and try her best to adjust as fast as possible. If she slips in the first few days, she feels incredibly guilty and apologizes profusely. 

If her significant other wishes to keep the new name and identity to themselves and Brienne only, she’d respect her partner’s wishes but every time someone refers to her partner by their old name or calls them a girl, she has the most challenging time holding her tongue - wanting to correct them, but she manages to keep quiet. Her respect and loyalty to her love are stronger than anything else.

When/if her partner voices a discomfort or dysphoria with their body and their feminine traits, she will observe and take notes on what she can do to help on the rougher days.

She always lets her partner wear her clothes that are far too large for them, just to offer some more affirming clothing than the ones that are tailored to their body and often show their curves.

She will offer to cut their hair if they want to go shorter or just maintain the length they currently have if it’s already short. 

She will try her best to offer any type of euphoric or affirming moment on any day, but especially the harder ones.

Every single day will she tell them how much she loves them and how much they mean to her, and how perfect they are just the way they are.

Captain Phasma

When her partner explains it to her, she doesn’t say more than: “Good for you.” 

Even if her initial reaction was very careless and crass, she does take it in and adjusts slightly in the way she thinks about them.

She will not be all lovey-dovey or gentle about it all, but she will be somewhat supportive, in her own Phasma way.

If someone misgenders her partner in her proximity, she will aggressively correct them if their partner has shared their identity with them that is. If they have not, she will not say anything, against her own invasive urges.

If her significant other wants her to call them something else, she will. It’s going to take a couple of days and she will slip, but she will eventually lock it in. Whenever she does slip up when talking to her partner, she will correct herself and move on. They won’t get an apology out of Phasma, but she wants her partner to know that she was aware of her slip-up in some way. 

If her partner is out, she will correct someone using their old name in her usual stern way, and if she slips when talking about them to someone else, (which she never will cause when she talks about them to someone else she uses their title and last name, but on the off-chance that she uses their title and first name) she will quickly correct herself and tell the other person that, “If I hear you calling them the name I accidentally used, I am going to rip your tongue out so you can never call anyone anything ever again.”

And for the more dysphoric days, she doesn’t quite know what to do. Her initial attempts don’t really work (like saying, “You’re hot.”) so she disinterestedly asks what she can do to help or “whatever.”

She ends up throwing her large shirts her partner’s way when they voice their thoughts on how they are feeling. She also silently drags them to the hairdresser if her partner so wishes for an affirming haircut.

She’s supportive in her own aggressive way.

Lucifer Morningstar

Lucifer just gets it. 

They try not to use too much of their own experience to anticipate their partner’s wants and needs, so they will have a few questions to be as responsive as possible. 

Even with their busy schedule ruling hells, they will happily sit and listen to their partner talk about their experience or challenges. There is no mercy for those who interrupt your time together. 

They would encourage their partner to be open and proud of their new identity but are supportive of their partner’s wish to not come out if they so choose - either way, Lucifer will use the correct pronouns (and/or name).

Due to Lucifer’s own non-binary identity, Hell is a place that quickly accepts changes in an individual's orientation or identity. On the odd chance that someone is not accepting of Lucifer’s partner, that daemon or being will be turned into ash with the flick of Lucifer’s wrist. 

They are delighted in helping their partner alter their appearance to feel more affirmed and will often tell their partner, “You have no need to want for anything. Whatever your heart desires, I will make it so.” 

They love to pull their partner into their lap and wrap them up in their arms when their partner is feeling more dysphoric. They will whisper sweet affirmations for a short while before asking if they could interest their partner in a walk through the gardens. 

Jane Murdstone

She doesn’t quite understand at first, only responding with “I see. Thank you for telling me.” Jane is quick to bring up the subject again later that evening or the next day as she truly had no clue what ‘non-binary’ or ‘genderless’ meant. 

It may take her a few explanations to understand fully, but she is never unaccepting or rude about her partner’s wishes. She doesn’t make a very big deal of the change and will often ask a single question and answer with an “Mhmm. Thank you.” as she internally sorts through the new information.

The Victorian era was not an accepting one so her partner’s gender will most likely be kept private along with their relationship with Jane. 

Jane wants to verbally eviscerate anyone who misgenders her partner, but chooses to silently seethe instead to avoid outing her partner in any way. 

She is very deliberate with her words and will be determined to use the correct pronouns (and/or name) whenever she has the opportunity. 

She most definitely surprises her partner with trousers and loose-fitting shirts to wear around their rooms. 

She is quick to utilize compliments that she finds to be more genderless, such as, “You are looking quite attractive today, sweeting.”

Her partner will often hear her cursing ‘the latest fashion trends’ and how they are ‘quite repressive and reprehensible’ as the fashion of the day was designed to accentuate women’s curves. 

Jane loves to read her partner poetry or novels and will often change the pronouns of the love interest just for them. 

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