#also tried to make it more clear this time that the black and green scales are just what juana normally looks like

[codgod]

noth1ng crazy has happ3ned

[alt version under the cut]

ended up liking the blank background more buuut this is also cool

[divine-knight-hand]

Live to Serve

Lady Loki Masterlist || Full Masterlist || Read on AO3

Pairing: Female-Presenting Queen!Loki Laufeyson (or, more like Laufeydottir) x Female Einherjar Soldier!Reader

Summary: After a promotion celebration in honor of your latest act of service to Asgard, you request a new way to be of service to your beloved queen.

Content Warnings: Assisted stripping, unusual pet names (I guess?), slight praise, Loki being a little tease, thighriding, brief mention of marking (hickeys, and the like), cunnilingus, facesitting

…Also, I can’t tell if there's any dom/sub dynamic here. I blacked out and suddenly they had, like, this back-and-forth thing. So, be on the lookout for that. 😅

Notes: After making this silly little post, the gears in my brain went into overdrive, and suddenly, I gave life to this~

I was also inspired by that one TikTok sound that's all like "When I say sit on my face, don't just put 10% of your body weight down. Fucking sit on it. Sit. Like a chair. Don't ask if I can breathe. Just sit down." Lmaooo! So, there's that. (I'm so gay for writing this 🤣)

Also, I’d be a criminal if I didn’t thank @fandxmslxt69 for reading the first half of this and helping me decide what direction I wanted it to go. Even if this wasn’t one of her typical reads, she’s the sweetest person ever and wanted to help anyway. So, THANK YOU, MY WIFE!!! MWAH!!! 💕

Word Count: 3,054

Dividers by @benkeibear [DEACTIVATED]

“You have fight in you. I can’t help but commend that.” Loki towered above me, her voice carrying throughout the throne room, though she didn’t seem to have to use any effort to retain her volume.

Everything about her was regal as ever. Her dark, wavy hair. Her strong cheekbones. Her long, elegant green dress and gold horned headdress. She was everything anyone expected the queen of Asgard to be. She was perfect.

“Your actions today prevented tragedy on a massive scale.” She continued. “Had you not employed your skillset the way you had today, the Kursed would have done more than tire out our border patrol."

“I tried to act accordingly to limit the threat to our kingdom.” I straightened my back in my kneeling position at her feet. “I live to serve the people of Asgard.”

What I really wanted to say was “I live to serve you”, but a glint in Loki’s eye gave me the feeling that she already knew that.

“Your efforts don’t go unnoticed.” The corner of her lip twitched into a small smirk. “I do believe it’s about time for a promotion of sorts, don’t you?”

She reached down to softly grab me by the chin, and my heart fluttered. It took everything out of me not to let my eyes flutter shut and sigh under her touch. I wasn’t clear on my relationship with Loki, but, whatever it was, it wasn’t typical of a queen and a member of her army. I definitely didn’t need anyone else catching wind of what we had between us.

My attention returned to the sound of her saying my full name in that same regal voice of hers. “Someone with your work ethic shouldn’t be kept in a position among the rest of the Einherjar. That would be an insult to your potential. Do you accept the responsibility that comes with being the queen’s personal Einheri?”

My eyes widened. Her what?

“You would be tasked with staying by my side at all times, as well as ensuring my absolute protection.” She continued. “It will not be easy.” She softly chuckled, mischief briefly glinting in her eye. “But, I promise great rewards for you in return.”

My heart was pounding in my ears. She might as well have asked me if I would accept her hand in marriage.

I took a deep breath to compose myself. “No reward would be greater than the opportunity to personally ensure your safety, min dronning.”

“Very well.” She let go of my face and conjured a green handkerchief in her hand before knighting me with it. “Starting today, you’ll bear the duties of my greatest protector.” She held the handkerchief out to me. “Take this as a token of my appreciation to you, and rise for the people of Asgard.”

Applause immediately filled the throne room as I gingerly accepted the handkerchief before rising to my feet. Loki and I shared a smile before I turned to face the audience. Cheering the loudest in the front row were some of my closest friends, Sif, Hogun, Volstagg, Fandral, and Thor. Heimdall stood beside them, his lips curved up in a proud smile as he silently nodded in approval. I bashfully waved at them, willing my cheeks not to glow with my embarrassment. I wasn’t particularly used to being the subject of this level of congratulations.

Wanting to avoid all the eyes on me, I looked back down at the handkerchief in my hands. It was clearly representative of Loki, green with elegant gold embroidery. Upon a closer look, I noticed that the embroidered designs formed words.

Find me in my chambers tonight, it read.

That was when I felt Loki’s fingers curl around my shoulder before she softly purred against the shell of my ear, “Du har gjort meg veldig glad i dag, kjæledyr~”

I felt a shiver down my spine, and had to bite my tongue to keep from moaning with the sudden desire I felt for her. Tonight couldn’t come fast enough.

───※ ·⛨· ※───

“Kneel.” The command was soft, but firm, and I didn’t hesitate to obey.

After my knighting ceremony, there was a feast in my honor. The festivities were almost too much, and I couldn’t help but almost feel that I didn’t deserve all this praise. When I wasn’t facing the embarrassing congratulations from my dear friends, my eyes scanned the room for Loki, locking eyes with her in a knowing glance.

Tonight, she seemed to silently promise me.

Each time, I held her gaze a little too long after she looked away before another one of my friends brought me back to reality.

Once the celebration was over, I didn’t waste a second before heading to her room. Now, I kneeled before her, still in my golden armor from the day’s work.

The low candlelight did nothing to diminish her regality. It only served to deepen the angles of her face as she slowly strolled over, the sound of her heels clicking against the floor and echoing off of the walls to fill the silence between us.

“You arrived quicker than I anticipated you would.” She cupped my face in her hand, thumb rubbing over my bottom lip. “Already so eager to please. Isn’t that right, pet?”

I let my eyes flutter shut and sighed into her touch. “Yes, my queen.”

Then, she let go, all too soon, before strolling over to her full-length mirror. “Normally, I have my maids assist me with this,” She moved her hair, revealing the lacing along the back of her gown’s corset. “But, consider this your first assignment.”

I felt my heart flutter. “Whatever you need, I’ll do it.”

“You can start by helping me out of this gown.” She purred, “Rise, min Einheri~”

Another pang of desire hit me at the sound of her calling me hers. I suddenly craved to hear it again. Min Einheri…

I slowly and wordlessly took to my feet before approaching her. She didn’t turn to look at me, instead, meeting my eye through the mirror in front of her.

“Be gentle, now,” She twirled one of her raven locks around her finger. “I rather like this one.”

All I could manage was a nod before I began to untie the back of her gown. I didn’t even realize, but as my fingers worked to undo the knots, I slowly leaned in closer to her. The smells of her perfumes and shampoo almost made me dizzy. In that moment, I wanted nothing more than to kiss her, just to be able to taste her essence.

Once I loosened the corset, Loki shrugged off the dress, and it fell into a pool of fabric on the floor as she let out a sigh of relief. “That’s better.”

I bit the inside of my cheek as I took in the image in front of me. Loki stood before me in nothing more than a set of lacy green underwear. This wasn’t my first time seeing her like this, but I just couldn’t get past the awe I was struck with each time I was blessed with this vision. This goddess.

My hands itched to explore every inch of her newly exposed skin, but my eyes wasted no time in doing so. They traced along the softness of her thighs, the plumpness of her ass, and the curves of her hips, before inappropriately lingering on her pillowy breasts once she turned to face me.

I bit my lip against a growing throbbing sensation in my core.

“Do you like what you see, pet?” I looked up to meet the mischievous glint that returned to her eye. “I desire to give you so much more than this.” She strolled over, wrapping her arms around the back of my neck. “After all, I have yet to personally reward you for your loyalty.”

She was so tantalizingly close, our mouths only a breath apart, but before I could think to part my lips as an invitation, she pulled away. “Whoops! We can’t leave that lying around, now can we?” She cupped my cheek, rubbing the apple of it. “Would you mind hanging that up for me before it wrinkles?”

“Of course,” I breathed, and she smiled before walking off.

I let out a small sigh as I picked her gown up off of the floor. Leave it to Loki to be a tease. It was as if it was her bedroom trademark to always leave her partner wanting more, and I would gladly fall for it every time. It was a delicious vicious cycle.

I entered her grand walk-in closet, combing through the numerous gowns, tunics, and other glamorous articles of clothing before finding a spot to hang up her gown.

Suddenly, I heard Loki groan my name from the bedroom. My heart dropped into my stomach as I turned around and rushed out of the closet. Had she gotten hurt? Had I already failed at protecting her? Had I-

“Mmh, my darling pet~” Loki’s eyes were shut, her dark waves spilled over the white cotton of her pillows as she laid back in bed. Her breathing was heavy, and a faint blush crept into her cheeks, almost hidden behind the low lighting. I felt a similar warmth creep into mine as my eyes wandered along her now fully naked body, only stopping once they saw her fingers teasing her glistening cunt.

“I suppose I couldn’t wait through my own teasing.” She softly chuckled, cutting herself off with a softer moan. “Your loyalty to me is so… alluring. Appreciated, of course, but so alluring… When you fight for me… When you kneel for me… Gods, I’m so proud of you… and I have to have you.”

I slowly approached the bed, legs shaking from a sudden weakness in my knees. “And I want nothing more than to please you.”

“Oh, min Einheri,” Loki’s eyes rolled back, and the sound she made was absolutely lewd. I gripped one of the supports of her bed as my heart began to pound against my chestplate. The throbbing in my core was incessant. I didn’t just want Loki. I craved her.

“You have no idea what you do to me.” Loki mewled. “You invade my every waking thought… Don’t keep me waiting any longer.” With her free hand, she patted the spot on the bed next to her. “Come here.”

 I obediently, but less-than-gracefully, crawled onto the bed before laying down to rest beside her.

“Your majesty-” I breathed before she cut me off by rolling on top of me.

“I believe the time for talk is over.” Her breath was warm against my face as her hair draped down around us. “I want you to show me how devoted you are to me.”

My eyes fluttered shut as she slowly began to lean closer to me, and I risked the move of gently grabbing her hips. “I’ll do anything you ask of me, min dronning.”

Finally, Loki closed the space between our mouths, biting my lip as she pulled away. My lips parted with a shudder, and she kissed me again, her tongue slipping into my mouth. I let my hands run along her back as I raised my knee between her thighs. She moaned into my mouth as she began to slowly grind against my thigh, the only part of my body covered in dark leather rather than shiny armor.

My mind grew hazy. I was drunk off the taste of Loki and the feel of her body against mine. Feeling her cunt clench against the muscles of my thigh was enough to make my head spin… But, I still needed more.

Loki slid her hands up along my chestplate to cup my face, and my hands found the round of her ass, giving it a squeeze. She moaned in my mouth as I began to help guide her along my thigh, my hips slowly bucking with my movements. Our kisses quickly grew feverish, as if we could devour each other. It seemed appropriate, considering the fact that I deeply hungered for her.

Once she broke our kiss, I trailed my lips along her neck, kissing, biting, sucking, licking, and breathing her in. I knew she’d end up all marked up by the end of the night, and a possessive part of me found a thrill in that. I’ll mark you, and only you, min dronning…

“Ah, darling-” The sounds I pulled from Loki were like music to my ears. “You’re too good to me…”

“...need to taste you, mmh…” I gasped before returning to marking her.

“Is that so?” Loki gently coaxed my face out of the crook of her neck. “Allow me to put you to work elsewhere, then~”

“Please, min dronning,” I breathed. “Let me please you.”

Loki sat up, straddling my hips. “And how do you wish to do that?”

I didn’t even have to think about it. “I want you to ride my face.” I softly caressed her thighs as I answered. “I want you to take what you need from me, and let me taste your release on my tongue.” The sweet nectar of your release… My mouth watered at the thought.

“My sweet pet,” Loki leaned forward to caress my cheek. “My loyal Einheri… That sounds dangerous.”

“Danger isn’t foreign to me.” I insisted.

“Of that, I’m sure.” Loki rubbed her thumb along my bottom lip. “But I still implore you to let me know if it becomes too much to bear. Three taps on my thigh and I’ll move immediately. Understood?”

“Understood.” I agreed.

A warm expression graced her features as she leaned forward to cup my face in her hands again. “My darling pet, so eager to please…”

My tongue darted out to wet my lips. “I live to serve you, min dronning.”

The last thing I saw was Loki’s mouth curve into a small smirk before I helped her shift her position to straddle my face.

She still held herself up to give me space, and I gently kissed along her inner thigh, hoping to ease her back into a sense of comfort. “Whenever you’re ready,” I whispered against her soft skin. “Just sit down.”

“Sit down?” A look of shock filled Loki’s eyes above me. “All the way?”

My legs squeezed together as the image began to solidify in my mind. I felt myself fill with a hunger I’d never felt before. I was ravenous, and the only thing to sate my craving was just a few inches from my mouth.

“All the way.” My eyes were unmoving from Loki’s as I reassured her. “I can take it.”

Loki pondered this for a moment. “As you wish.”

I brought my hands up to help guide her hips as she lowered herself down. Once she sat down, I could feel the pressure of her weight on my face, and it only served to spur me on.

I gave her hips a reassuring squeeze, my hands unceasingly caressing them as I began to work my tongue between her folds. My eyes fluttered shut, and I moaned into her cunt as the wet sounds we were making filled the room.

Any apprehension that Loki might have had fell away as I heard her moan. “Ohhh, yes… Just like that… Ohhh, my darling pet…”

I felt her thighs clench against my head, and the dirtiest parts of my mind hoped, just for a moment, that she’d crush me between them. I couldn’t stop the moan that tumbled from my throat once my brain conjured that imagery, the pulsing between my thighs driving me mad.

“Min Einheri…” Loki mewled, and I opened my eyes to see her head thrown back as she was lost in ecstasy. “Min lojale Einheri… You know how to please me so well… Ah- Don’t stop! Don’t stop!”

Her loud moans seemed to rattle off of the castle walls as she began to buck her hips, and I hoped my fingers weren’t digging too deep into her skin while I helped keep her steady. It was difficult to keep myself in check, since I was eating her out as if I was starved. She was everything I wanted–my wildest dreams come alive–and I knew I’d remember her taste for days, craving it until she’d let me have her again.

I wanted to be able to voice my thoughts, but all I could manage was, “Mmmmmmmh… Mmh…” as my eyes fluttered closed again.

Any coherence from my queen was gone, her words practically slurring as her pet name for me was the only thing tumbling from her lips between her panting breaths. “Min Einheri… Ohhhh, min Einheri…”

I felt her clench against my mouth as her moans grew whinier. She was close.

Min dronning… I sighed another moan against her cunt.

Loki cried out my name, her voice a little hoarse as she spilled her release into my mouth. I greedily lapped it up, saliva slowly dripping down the sides of my mouth as I swallowed every drop I could.

As she came down from her high, I noticed her legs shaking as she struggled to move off of me. She only made it a few inches before I gripped her hips again.

“Wait!” I was loudly gasping for air, but I wasn’t fully sated just yet. “Once more… Please…”

“You have to be mad.” Loki breathlessly scoffed. “Have you no consideration for your own wellbeing?”

Not right now. “Please… Min dronning…” I begged. “I’m not done demonstrating my loyalty to you… Please… Once more…”

She deeply considered this, her brows furrowing in the slightest. “You remember our agreement, yes? Three taps if you need air.”

“I remember.” I felt my heart begin to race as I sensed her beginning to change her mind.

A hint of a smile ghosted at her lips as she began to lower herself back down onto me. “Alright, min Einheri… Once more…” At least, that’s what her words said.

A glint in her eye told me that she knew just as well as I did that this wouldn’t be only once more...

───※ ·⛨· ※───

Min dronning - My queen

Du har gjort meg veldig glad i dag, kjæledyr - You've made me very happy today, pet

Min Einheri - My Einheri

Min lojale Einheri - My loyal Einheri

[anothersarcasticdolphin]

Second Conquest (fic idea)

Premise: Rhaenyra disinherited for Aegon the elder when it is time for her to get married, with the consolation that she gets to keep Dragonstone.

Various happenings:

Rhaenyra is ... less distraught and more resigned, especially after Daemon refuses her offer at the wedding. Daemon is guilty about it later that night, and goes to the Dragonpit, singing to Dreamfyre, and convincing her to leave for Dragonstone. 

Daemon and Laena spend a fair chunk of their time on Dragonstone, and for all intents and purposes, Daemon is doing the husbandly duties to both Laena and Rhaenyra while Laenor is off with his own lover.

Dragonstone is basically a black pit for any Green spies - the people practically worship the Targaryens as gods, and there is less of a need to spy on Rhaenyra if it looks like Aegon will ascend the throne normally.

Rhaenyra is a good ruler - she makes a point of learning from Rhaenys, who ruled Driftmark for both all of Corlys’ voyages and for all of his warring in the Stepstones.

Between Laena and Rhaenyra there are a dozen new child dragonriders on Dragonstone before Viserys dies.

Rhaenyra looks more east than west - she still pays attention to the seven kingdoms, but she also makes a point of establishing a relationship with the free cites, to the point that she has arrangements of sorts with some of them in return for support against any Dothraki problems they may be having.

Viserys dies and Aegon II ascends uncontested. He is unhappily married to Helaena, and all too aware of the fact that none of the King’s Landing Targaryens have any dragons. This is made abundantly clear to everyone at Viserys’ funeral, when 15+ dragonriders show up from Driftmark and Dragonstone. Otto/Alicent were too paranoid about Daemon (and Rhaenyra to a lesser extent) just killing any Greens that tried to claim a dragon. After all, claiming a dragon is very dangerous. And Rhaenyra certainly isn’t sending any eggs to King’s Landing.

Relations are ... fractious at best between Dragonstone and King’s Landing. Rhaenyra’s diplomacy in the free cities is causing problems for Aegon’s (Otto’s) foreign policy, and Aegon’s attempts to reign in Dragonstone just succeed in pissing everyone off.

There are incidents and spats over the years - Rhaenyra is in some ways biding her time, waiting for her children’s dragons to be grown, waiting for them all to have proper experience gained in Essos. And then there is finally an incident so severe that the scales are tipped over into war.

I kind of want to write this in the style of a history book, kind of like a maester wrote it after the fact.

[spacepup2-0]

Chapter Three | An Ally? (1/3?)

Last Chapter <- {} -> Next Chapter

Summary: Dakota meets someone who's somewhat willing to help!

Note- This one is also cut up due to the character limit.

A sharp pain came from the right side of his shoulder as a spear pierced through his scales and into his skin, a sharp, searing hot pain spread through his shoulder as he let out a howl of pain. The knights made it clear that Dakota was nothing but a monster to them and did not deserve any of the kindness they had. So, with a heavy heart his took one last glace at Sunpass before making a run for it, an arrow narrowly missing his neck. The cries and shouts of anger filled his ears as the knights chased him into the woods to make sure he wouldn’t come back. Dakota tripped over logs and ran into tree branches which temporarily blinded him. Dakota glanced back to make sure he wasn’t being followed by the knights but that proved to be a mistake as when he made his next step, there was no ground. He quickly whipped his head back forward just in time to see himself tumbling off the side and into the gorge, pieces of rocks and dirt falling with him as he tried to hold onto anything in order to stop himself. But it was all futile, his body fell into the water, but his head was unlucky enough to hit a rock sticking up from the river. Dakota could no longer feel the searing hot pain of the arrow in his shoulder or the tiny, pricking, feeling of the smaller cuts from the fall. Everything felt fuzzy until it all went dark. When Dakota awoke again, he was blinded by the sunlight. “Still day?” Dakota wondered, trying to get a good look around buy his eyesight was still fuzzy. “Is this the same day or was I knocked out for a whole day?” Questions raced through his mind, but he was pulled out his thoughts we a big, dark blue talon was placed right in front of his face, its long back claws gripped the rocky ground as he felt something cool touch the arrow in his shoulder. Dakota let out a loud hiss and tenses his shoulder. The other dragon took a step back, in surprise maybe. Dakota couldn’t really tell, though his head was better he still wasn’t fully there. Looking up at the dragon he could see its mouth moving but wasn’t able to properly hear him, only hearing muffled noises and few words. The dragon lowered his head down to be eye level with Dakota. “------------up? Hello? Are-------? ------,-----------.” Their claw grabbed Dakota’s horn and lifted his head up off the ground a few inches before mumbling something to themselves and releasing him. The dragon seems to contemplate something before spreading its wings and taking to the sky, leaving Dakota alone again. Taking a good look around, Dakota was still in the same gorge he fell in, the green trees swaying in the wind and the birds singing in the distance. It was peaceful but he knew he had to get up, he tried his best to not use his right shoulder as it stung with the slightest of movement. “A dragon…of all the things I’m a dragon...” Looking at the water, he could get a clear view of what he looked like. A slim body with smooth yellow scales that almost looked golden, his horns curled up a back and he had a black stripe that seemed to go from the point of his snout all the way down his back and to the point of his tail that had a few feathers on the end of it. His eyes were amber, and his snout was a bit narrow. Perhaps whatever dragon he was turned into was built more for flying and speed because he definitely didn’t have the bulk that the dragons that attacked his village had.

[squids-comics]

Here's chapter three of Supernova! I'll get a new story to you by next week!

Chapter Three: Mayday in the Mines

Today was a grim and gloomy day. Dyceran pulled himself out of bed. It was still dark out. The sun wasn't out yet, but he couldn't tell. He lived underground. He had since he first got to the planet. He missed the sun.

He crawled out of his cold, hard bed. He unplugged his electric endoskeleton from the wall and stepped out of his cramped cell of a room.

Outside the room stood an armed guard. A Phonocoptrian soldier. Dressed in red metal armour, the guard clutched his laser rifle tightly. His bug-like red eyes glistened in the dim cave, lit up by electric lights overhead.

"You're late Keratonian...," The guard spoke, clear disdain in his voice.

Dyceran shrugged. "I get up whenever my biochip tells me to."

The guard gritted his teeth. "Then your biochip's broken. You should get it looked at, you cold-blooded reptile."

The guard stood at around six feet tall. He was tiny next to Dyceran. Keratonians were naturally much larger than many other species in the galaxy. Coming from a planet with a much higher gravity than humans are used to, they are built with much more muscle density. They stand at twelve feet tall and ten feet wide. As a result of this, most Keratonians are used in factory and mining work. Dyceran was an exception. The Phonocoptrians told him he was an amazing worker, a worker deserving of an upgrade. They cut him apart and replaced his bones with metal and hydraulics. This endoskeleton allowed to lift ten times what a normal Keratonian could, and nearly one hundred times what a human could. Dyceran stood at around sixteen feet tall.

Keratonians were known for their reptilian appearances. Instead of the soft and warm flesh of mammalian species, they had a rough and hard scaly exterior. They came in a variety of colours, from bright greens and blues, to dark greys and blacks. Dyceran had darker scales. He blended into the rock walls of the mines.

The guard led Dyceran down a dark stone hall. Dyceran didn't fit. He had to crawl on his hands and knees in order to get through the tunnel. Low hanging lights dangled from the ceiling, just barely giving enough light to see. Dyceran hit his head on all of them.

"You're on transport duty," The guard said. "Pick up the equipment, move it to where we tell you to."

Dyceran sighed. "I know. I've been doing it for years."

The guard scoffed. "Just making sure you didn't forget."

Dyceran was led to a large, steel door. The door opened. A wave of heat washed over Dyceran. The sound of heavy mining equipment echoed throughout the cavern, the clicks of pickaxes, the hum of drills.

Dyceran stepped into the room. He grabbed a large box full of ore, bigger than a person and lifted it into the air. It weighed multiple tons, but he didn't notice. His endoskeleton helped him. He carried it across the cavern. He put it down. He grabbed a large drill, bigger than a person and lifted it into the air. It also weighed several tons. He carried it across the cavern. He put it down. Miners mined. Tools clanked. Sparks and dust and debris flew through the air. The heat made his head spin. The noise made his ears ring. The dust made his lungs burn. He ignored it. He grabbed another box of ore. He lifted it into the air. He carried it across the cavern. He put it down. He grabbed a drill. He lifted it into the air. He carried it across the cavern. He put it down.

He let his mind wander. He remembered what he was working for. It had been decades since he was above ground. He tried to remember what it was like. The sky, the sun, the air. It had been so long since he had breathed fresh, unfiltered air. The air down here was thick and toxic. If it wasn't for the air filters he had installed in his lungs, he wouldn't survive more than a few hours after breathing it in. He tried to remember what it felt like, to breath in clean, fresh air. He inhaled. He sucked in a cloud of dust. His lungs burned. He coughed. He choked. He dropped the ore cart he was carrying. He fell to his knees. The guards got angry. They yelled. Dyceran couldn't hear them over the noise. He apologized and picked the cart back up. The guards backed off.

Dyceran continued ferrying equipment and ore back and forth for hours on end. His muscles ached. He wanted to stop, but he couldn't. Any minor slip up on his part would result in a penalty, especially after he dropped the ore. And a penalty means going down a level. He couldn't have that, not after he worked so hard to get where he was. He was only five levels away from the surface. Five more promotions and he would be able to see the sky again, to feel the sun on his face, to breath fresh air. He had climbed his way up from the depths of the mine, all the way from the tenth level. It had taken decades, and would take many more years still. But it could all be undone in minutes if he wasn't careful. So he pushed through the pain. Each step he took was a test of his willpower. Every crate he lifted was a herculean feat of strength. He was so tired. But he pushed through. He pushed past it all. He pushed past the tearing in his muscles. He pushed past the ringing in his ears. He pushed past the fire in his lungs. He wiped the sweat from his brow, and he kept working.

He picked up a crate. He carried it across the cavern. He set it down. His arms ached. He picked up a drill. He carried it across the cavern. He set it down. His head spun. He picked up a crate. He carried it across the cavern. He set it down. His ears were ringing. The ringing was so loud he could barely hear the alarm.

The alarm. It echoed through the cave. Dyceran stopped working. He put the drill he was carrying down. The other workers had already stopped. They were all listening to the alarm. Red lights over all the doors illuminated everyone in an eerie glow. The guards were nowhere to be seen. Dyceran had never seen the mines without guards. He had also never seen it this quiet, even with the alarm. The speakers clicked on, a calm voice announcing a warning to the workers.

"Attention all employees. We have two intruders in the mines. They are on level two. All miners, report back to your quarters. All guards, report to your level's entryway."

All the workers ran out of the mine. Except Dyceran. He stayed. He was transfixed by the alarm. He stared up at the spinning light. The voice from the speaker came back on.

"The intruders have reached level three. Guards have permission to shoot on sight. Workers, stay in your room to avoid injury."

Level three was the third level below the surface. That was only two levels above Dyceran. If the guards didn't stop them soon, they would be at his level. But they wouldn't make it that far. The guards were after them. And armed. The voice returned again, this time sounding more panicked.

"The intruders are now on level four. Stop them! Now!!"

Maybe the intruder would find their way to level five. What would Dyceran do if they did? If he stopped them, he might get a promotion. He'd be years closer to getting to the surface. Or... Maybe, just maybe, he could use this chaos to sneak up to the surface now.

"Mayday! The intruder is now on level five! Hurry up and shoot them!"

Dyceran heard commotion from a nearby hall. The door to the hall was shut, but many guards could be heard congregating on the other side. Rapid footsteps and the clanking of armour seemed to imply a rush to get into formation. Some sort of fight appeared to be happening. The sound of blaster rounds firing could be heard, as well as the sounds of the lasers bouncing off metallic surfaces, most likely the hall walls. A dull electric hum could be heard, like the sound of a laser sword. There were cries of alarm and pain. No bodies hit the floor.

The sound of a code being punched into the door echoed throughout the cave. The door slowly slid open. Through the open door, Dyceran could see eight guards frozen in their tracks, standing perfectly still, stiff as statues. They still had their weapons in their hands, raised to fire them. Whoever broke in was using a non-lethal weapon. A man and a woman stood in the hall. They were humanoid looking. They were both breathing heavy, sweat dripping from their foreheads. There was a man and a woman. The man was holding a metallic disk plugged into the door control console.

"I knew this thing would be useful!" Vee excitedly exclaimed. He unplugged his device and stepped into the mine, a wide grin on his face. "Anyone holding out for a hero?"

Finally Dyceran would be able to see the surface again.

[mensusaonlinestore1]

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[emmachine22]

24/01/23 - second poster design

I made a second poster to really test my skills on Indesign. I chose to use one of the other lead images I liked from the first look; this stunning carved angel. I cropped the image so the wing was the focus, as it spanned quite well across the page because of the zoomed in scale. This time, I wanted a pure black and white image so I could experiment with using bright, trendy colours like this lime green.

Because the main reason for this exhibition is sculptures made of stone, I decided to change the typeface of ‘stone’ to a hot pink to contrast with the green, which I feel was effective. I then also had the subtitle in the same pink to lead your eye to that second, before looking at the black text at the top of the page. I decreased the leading between the title lines, as I wanted the ‘stone’ to slightly overlap the ‘secrets in’ to hint at the hidden secrets these beautiful sculptures hold.

I played with the location of the logo, first in the top right corner, then in the bottom left, which I felt were both pushing it to the side a little and it was not clear this was a V&A exhibit. Instead I had the website in the bottom left corner to isolate it a little (as that is where the viewer can find more information) and overlayed the logo onto the sculpture itself. It stood out due to the negative space in between the wing and the head, however was not the focal point as it was also in greyscale. I could have made it a little bigger though, and maybe tried to edit it to partly be hidden by the sculpture to give it a more contemporary feel.

I felt the secondary text was clear, as the black worked well with the light background, however I did not need the drop shadows, especially as the title was so eye-catching with the bold colours. My intention was to make it stand out and to make the eye go there first after reading the title, but I think it was too much. I do like the two column layout of the times and address, and it was clear with the descending sizes of the typeface what order you had to read it in.

The lime green type on my computer came out of the printer looking a little more forest-green, which was not my intention and I feel it did not stand out as well as the brighter colours. In future, I would do a few more test prints to make sure that the colours I had in mind were printing correctly onto the paper.

[kohanayaki]

.:Time And Time Again:. (Marauders Era x Reader) Ch 1

Old habits die hard— and so do feelings, apparently. Relive moments high and low from your life with the Marauders and co. as you tell your godson, Harry, about all the mischief you got up to back in your school days. Takes place mainly in the Marauders era but also has content congruent with the Order of the Phoenix timeline, with some cannon divergence, of course~

- Main pairings: Sirius Black x Reader, Severus Snape x Reader, James Potter x Reader, Remus Lupin x Reader, slight Regulus Black x Reader, and a bunch of friendships! Gender neutral pronouns :)

LINKS:   CH 1   CH 2   CH 3   CH 4   CH 5   CH 6   CH 7   CH 8

____________________________________________________________

Ch 1 .:Memories And First Meetings:.

12 Grimmauld Place was cold.

Not in the temperature sense of the word, especially in the heat of London summer, but something about it felt distant. Perhaps it was the cookie cutter exterior, dreadfully drab, although you knew its true nature was anything but. Despite its grandeur, the interior was as ornate as it was dull and unsaturated, like a black and white photograph in all its monochromatic glory. Maybe it was the fact that you knew what had happened here in the past, or the fact that you knew who was waiting here for you in the present.

You felt the strange sensation of stepping through the thick blanket of protection charms surrounding the house, as if your body were moving through molasses for a fraction of a second. The moment you were fully inside, you began to hear the hushed bits of a conversation echoing through the entrance hall from the dining room whose door was slightly ajar. The words became clearer as you neared the door.

“Harry's not ready! Have you gone completely mad?”

You found yourself grinning at the first voice, Molly Weasley's stern tone unmistakable.

“He's not a child, Molly.”

You froze as you heard the second one; you'd know it anywhere.

A heavy wave of emotion surged through you as you got near enough to the entrance to see the face of Sirius Black through the gap in the door. His time in Azkaban had taken a toll on him, you could tell. Heavy bags hung from his face, his cheeks hollow; although his gray eyes still held that spark in them. His hair was longer, somehow even more wild and unruly than before, but it suited him.

“Well he's not an adult either! He's not James.”

You caught a flash of ginger as Molly crossed the room, using her wand to aggressively clear away the plates on the table as she made her point.

“I know he isn't, but he can handle himself,” Sirius said, “and I'll be there to protect him.”

“How touching, Black. Perhaps the boy will grow up to be a felon just like his godfather.”

Your stomach dropped at the third voice. Shit.

Your presence remained unannounced, but as you peaked your head around the corner of the door frame you were met with Severus' stoic face, an imperceptible crease of distaste in his brow as he regarded Sirius. As your view widened you saw that Lupin sat to his left, a human wall between the two former foes.

You stilled at the door, taking a deep breath in an attempt to settle your irrationally rioting nerves. It's not as if you didn't know they would be there, but it had been so long since you'd seen any of them. So much has changed. . .

“You stay out of this, Snivelus. I don't care what Dumbledore has to say about your supposed reformation, but I know better.”

“Don't you have to go play fetch elsewhere?”

“Oh come on, you two,” Remus sighed.

Well, maybe not much has changed after all. 

“Still resorting to playground bickering, are we?”

Several heads snapped in your direction at your words, and you were met with various reactions. Molly's face immediately split into a smile and she rushed around to table to greet you.

“(Y/n), dear! So nice to see you again,” she pulled you into a surprisingly strong hug and you couldn't help but join in her laughter.

“It's good to be back,” you admitted, “Charlie says hello, by the way.”

“Oh, I'm going to give give that boy a talking to,” Molly huffed, “you aren't his owl, dear. The least he could do is write home and say so himself.”

“Romanian mountain ranges keep a wizard busy,” you grinned, “He says he tries to keep in touch.”

“Sending home a bag of petrified dragon scales with a note that says 'look at this!!' is hardly keeping in touch,” she retorted, fussing about with your jacket's collar that had become wrinkled from her embrace.

Even from across the table you could feel Sirius' eyes on you, grateful that you had Molly's whirlwind greeting as a scapegoat for your flushed face.

“(Y/n). . .” he said softly, getting up from his seat.

“Hey,” you smiled, fighting the lump in your throat as he wrapped his arms around you. He was so warm, still wearing that damn leather jacket he'd somehow been reunited with after his imprisonment.

“What are you doing here? They told me you were out working in America,” Sirius said, eyes twinkling as he held you at arm's length.

“Well, I suppose I'm sort of working everywhere these days,” you said. As his words registered in your brain you turned to Molly with narrowed eyes. “You didn't tell him I was coming?”

“I thought it would be a nice surprise,” she said coyly.

You shook your head, turning back to Sirius.

“I'm so sorry, Molly said I could stay here so I thought she already ran it by you—”

“No, no, of course you can stay!” he said enthusiastically, “I'm glad you're here.”

He seemed gentler than he was before, certainly more mellow than in his youth, but that energy that was so quintessentially him remained buzzing beneath his skin, and Merlin, you'd missed it.

After realizing how long the two of you had spent practically holding each other you coughed awkwardly, slowly drifting apart. As you looked around the table your eyes caught Severus' and you thought your heart stopped for a moment. To the untrained eye he probably seemed just as uninterested as ever, but the look of shock in his eyes was so blatantly apparent to you that it threw you off guard. You managed to cast a small smile in his direction, but his expression remained unchanged while yours dropped. You felt your stomach twist up in knots as you thought about what had happened the last time you saw each other.

Lupin looked between the pair of you before getting up from his own seat and coming to your rescue. He extended his arms with a kind smile, and you happily shifted your attention to him.

“It's about time London had its best auror back in town,” he said.

“Flattery will get you nowhere, Moony,” you said playfully, hugging him tight, “It's good to see you too.”

“Are you hungry?” Molly asked, pulling a chair out for you.

“Oh no, I had something on the way here,” you said, taking a seat, “thank you, though.”

It felt surreal to be back here, where it all started. The faces were different—some new, some missing—but the same determined feeling remained.

“Now, where were we,” Sirius said, his confidence returning to his shoulders as he addressed the table.

“We were just talking about how Harry isn't ready to be tangled up in all this,” Molly said sternly.

“I think he should decide that for himself,” Sirius said adamantly.

“Well of course the boy would say he wants to fight, he's—”

“Listening in right now,” you pointed out, jutting your head in the direction of the open door where Harry stood, half obscured by the shadow of the stairway.

The boy flushed, backing away slightly as he was caught. But his eyes lit up as they landed on you, and you felt a tug at your heart as you saw your best friend in their bright green hues.

“(Y/n), you're back,” he said in disbelief.

“And here to stay for a bit, apparently,” you said with a smile.

Molly looked between the two of you before letting out a sigh.

“You know what, we should stop for the night anyways,” she said with a wave of her hand, “We've kept the children up long enough with our chatter, and (Y/n) ought to get some rest as well. Off to bed, the lot of you.”

Some of the other adults exchanged some knowing smiles as she shooed them out of the room. People slowly trickled out through the doorway, goodbyes exchanged, and before long it was just you and your godson left.

You had been lucky enough to meet Harry at the end of his third year, and he'd broken the news about Sirius' innocence to you. You so badly wanted to be there for Harry sooner, but between your strained relationship with the Ministry and cleaning up the mess with MACUSA in the States, you always seemed to be called away from the boy. You wanted nothing more than to take him away from that horrid house—you knew how nasty Petunia could be firsthand. Nonetheless, he seemed to be doing well, and you were happy that you'd grown closer over the last few years even if you couldn't be there in person all the time.

“I've got another little souvenir for you, by the way,” you said, having migrated to the living room.

Harry seemed to perk up at that. Since your visits had been so sparse, you began to make it a tradition to bring him back something magical from whatever part of the world you'd been working in.

“You mentioned you were struggling in Potions the last time we spoke,” you said, rummaging through your bag, eventually producing a small, gold-rimmed vial full of a deep maroon liquid. Small black clouds seemed to tumble in a miniature cyclone inside the glass.

“Dragon's breath essence,” you grinned, “nicked it off of Charlie before I left Romania. Put a few drops of this in your salamander blood the next time you brew a Wiggenweld potion and you're set to pass with flying colors.”

“Brilliant!” Harry said, eyes wide, “that's on our O.W.L.S. this year.”

“I know,” you said cheekily, “you didn't hear it from me. Personally, I think an Outstanding in Potions as a requirement to become an auror is utter rubbish. Don't get me wrong, it's important to know your way around a cauldron, but to hold someone back who excels at Defense Against the Dark Arts and Charms just because they can't cook up a sleeping draught? I don't know, it doesn't sit right with me. And I've heard Severus is hard enough on you guys as it is.”

Harry seemed surprised at your casual address of his professor but shook it off quickly.

“But you're ace at Potions, and it seems like you really like it,” he said.

“Yeah, well I—” you faltered a bit, “I learned from the best. . .”

“Professor Slughorn, you mean?” Harry questioned.

Your eyes widened at that.

“Yeah,” you lied, recovering fast, “Well, Slughorn was a great teacher but terrible at throwing parties. He had this thing called the Slug Club and the dinners were just awful. Your mother was the first of us to join and she ended up roping me into it, and before we knew it we were all standing around in these ridiculous outfits taking swigs of the firewhiskey your dad snuck in just to get through the night.”

You smiled fondly at the memory, and you could see Harry living vicariously through the emotions on your face. You were grateful for this moment; this was the longest you'd actually gotten to sit down and talk together in a long time.

“Were you always friends?” Harry asked, “with my parents, I mean.”

You had to laugh at that question.

“With your mum, yes. Your father, well, not exactly. . .”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~   1971    ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Your body swayed gently with the movement of the Hogwarts Express as you walked up and down the isles, looking for someplace to sit. Most of the carriages were packed tight with large groups made up of upperclassmen not exactly looking to expand their circle.

As you approached the back of the train a mostly empty car caught your eye, occupied only by two children your age, or at least that's what you guessed from their black ties and basic robes that marked them as unsorted first-years like yourself.

One of them was a brooding looking boy with messy, shoulder length black hair and shockingly pale skin, leaning against the wall of the train and halfway through a book that seemed well beyond his years. Sitting across from him was a pretty red-headed girl who was admiring the rapidly passing scenery through the window.

“Excuse me, do you mind if I sit with you?” you asked, sliding the screen door open.

The boy's brow furrowed, clearly about refuse when the young girl beat him to it.

“Of course not!” she beamed, her smile infectious. You didn't miss the sharp look she shot over to the boy who simply rolled his eyes in response. After you muttered a small 'thanks' she scooted over closer to the window so you could sit next to her.

“My name is Lily,” she said, extending a hand, “Lily Evans.”

“Nice to meet you,” you smiled, “I'm (Y/n) (L/n).”

The boy quirked a brow at your last name, his expression shifting to something unreadable as he blatantly studied you over the spine of his book. After letting this go on for some time, you glanced over at Lily.

“Does he speak?”

“Perfectly well, thank you,” the boy said coldly.

Lily sent a disappointed look his way and his heart fell slightly, but he didn't need to be friends with anyone else, and he certainly didn't want other people becoming friends with Lily either. An irrational thought, he knew, but it was how his stubborn little brain worked at the time. They didn't need anyone but each other. Wasn't that enough?

In any case, he expected his behavior would be enough to scare you off (it usually worked on other people), but to his complete and utter surprise, you began to laugh. It started off as a light giggle, soon growing into full on laughter. He stared at you in open confusion as you were nearly brought to tears from your fit.

“You're funny,” you stated honestly, managing to speak through your chortles.

The boy was taken completely aback by your candor, actually at a loss for words. Lily joined in the laughter at your simple remark.

“So you do talk, I guess you must have a name too, then,” you said teasingly.

He blinked once. Twice.

“. . . Severus Snape.”

“That's a cool name.”

The heat that crept onto the boy's face surprised no one more than himself, and he buried himself in his book quickly to hide it. Another surprisingly frank statement from you, and not one he'd ever heard before.

If he thought you were full of surprises then, he had no idea what was coming to him.

_____________________________________________________________

The minute the Sorting Hat was placed on your head, it was immediately intrigued.

“Now here's an odd one,” it chuckled, “loyal, compassionate, empathetic, and yet a razor wit. A calculating, ambitious mind, and yet a relentless sense of adventure. All this, and with your bloodline to take into account as well. Your family has quite the history here, (L/n).”

Hushed whispers fell across the Great Hall among the older students and even some of the faculty at the hat's words, and you shifted uncomfortably in your seat.

“Though, I sense a different sort of mentality in you,” the hat continued, “you desire to challenge the old ways,” it paused for some time before going on, “do you truly have no preference, child?”

You were surprised at the question. You knew your family's reputation— it had been ingrained in you from a young age— but that didn't sway you, nor did it scare you. When you really thought about what house you wanted to be in, you truly couldn't think of an answer. It wouldn't change who you were, after all. Whether you donned red, yellow, blue, or green, you stood firmly in the knowledge that you would always be (Y/n) (L/n). Having made up your mind, you shook your head at the hat's question, and although its face was obscured from your view, you could almost sense its grin as it knew you were telling the truth.

“Well then,” it chuckled, “It is truly rare that I get an opportunity such as this. Let's make it interesting, then, shall we? Better be. . . Slytherin!”

Snape sat, slack-jawed, as you bounded over to the applauding Slytherin table and plopped down next to him. You rested your chin atop your folded hands, looking largely unbothered, a glint in your (e/c) eyes. He chuckled under his breath despite himself.

Full of surprises indeed.

___________________________________________________________

Your first encounter with James Potter was of a different sort.

It was the very beginning of your third year when you'd first met him properly. You had a few classes together, and Lily would rant about him constantly pestering her; occasionally you'd see the Gryffindor, along with another unfamiliar boy in his house, sprinting through the corridors, Professor McGonagall not far behind and demanding them to stop. But other than that, you'd never really interacted with him.

Ever since you'd met on the train you and Lily started to hang out more and more, with Snape “begrudgingly” tagging along. The Slytherin had been slow to warm up to you, but you were relentlessly kind and infuriatingly persistent, and eventually he found himself enjoying your little quips and comparatively sunny disposition. By the end of your first year, the three of you were nearly inseparable, and your bond only strengthened throughout your second. But third year is when things started changing.

Snape sat in the shade among the thick, overgrown roots of the old oak tree by the Black Lake, nose deep in an advanced Potions textbook he'd swiped from a fifth year as he waited for you and Lily to return from Transfiguration, the only class you didn't have together. This became your usual spot, with Lily sitting in the grass beside him and you on the branch above him, legs swinging as you absentmindedly sketched in your notebook. A comfortable silence would settle between you, something you'd all grown to enjoy; there was no need for constant conversation, it was enough sometimes to just enjoy each others' presence.

The silence he was reveling in alone, however, was promptly interrupted as rowdy laughter reached Snape's ears. Sure enough, a few figures emerged from the curve of the hill, revealing none other than James Potter, flanked by the curly haired boy he'd been seen running around with earlier along with two other Gryffindors: a short-statured boy with dirty blonde hair and another, taller and leaner, with long scars that ran along his face.

Snape didn't pay them much mind until he realized that they were heading straight for the tree— straight for him. Snape had noticed right away how the Potter boy had tried to befriend Lily as soon as she was sorted into Gryffindor, and it was safe to say he was less than fond of him despite having never really spoken to him before.

“You've got to be joking,” James snickered as he walked up to the tree, looking Snape up and down, “This is the guy Evans has been ditching us to see?”

Severus' eyes narrowed. So now he had a reason not to like him.

“Get lost,” he said, turning back to his book.

“What, you think you're too good to talk to us, huh?” James scoffed at him, clearly miffed.

As if on cue, the curly haired boy snatched the book out of Snape's hands, holding it out of his reach as he fumbled to get it back.

“Toss it, Sirius!” James called out. The boy, who he now knew as Sirius, threw the textbook like a frisbee, and Potter caught it easily.

As Snape angrily rose from his seat to get it back, the two boys continued to throw it between themselves so he couldn't grab it. Fed up, the Slytherin drew his wand but was quickly outmatched.

“Expelliarmus!”

Snape's wand flew out of his hands and straight into Sirius', who held it above his head. Just as the black haired boy jumped up for it, another spell flew towards him, this time from James.

“Winguardium Leviosa!”

Snape grit his teeth, staring helplessly at his wand as it hovered higher and higher out of his reach.

“James, come on, I think that's enough,” the taller boy near the back said.

“Don't be a bore, Remus, we're just having some fun.”

“I-I think he's right, guys.”

“Shut up, Peter.”

While his gaze was trained on his wand a harsh shove threw Snape to the ground, tears of frustration welling up in his eyes.

“No way, is he really crying?” James taunted.

“He is,” Sirius goaded on, “just look at him snivel.”

“You're right, maybe we should call him Snivelus, it suits him better.”

“Nice one, James.”

Snape winced as he was harshly pulled to his feet by James who sneered at him.

“Come on then, Snivelous. What are you gonna do?”

“Relashio!”

James' eyes widened as he suddenly felt himself repulsed back by some invisible force, his grip on Snape's robes forced to loosen as he was flung backwards. You stared the shocked Gryffindors down, wand at the ready for another spell as you ran to stand between Severus and them.

“Accio!” another voice called out, Snape's book and wand whizzing past their faces and into Lily's hands.

James staggered to his feet, trying to look unbothered by the fact that he'd just been knocked down, and by a spell that he hadn't even heard of yet.

“Look at that, boys,” he said, feigning confidence, “guess Snivelus needs a couple of girls to come to his rescue. You should ditch this loser, Evans.”

Before Lily could lash back, you stepped between them.

“What's that supposed to mean?” you scoffed.

“I'm sorry, who are you?”

You felt your forehead twitch, itching to smack that smug grin off his face.

It was Sirius who spoke next, recognition filling his gaze.

“Wait, you're the (L/n) kid, aren't you? Well that's just perfect, you two freaks can go study the Unforgivable Curses together.”

That struck a nerve in you.

“You don't know anything,” you said, not lowering your wand, “now get out of here before I knock you down too.”

“Aw, I don't know, Sirius, they're kind of cute all flustered like this,” James smirked.

You felt anger flare up in your chest, and it was Lily's turn to step in for you.

“Leave us alone, James,” she ordered.

When none of them moved you exhaled sharply, taking another step forward.

“Or I can just turn you into a flobberworm instead,” you said, “might be more fitting.”

Sirius laughed off your threat, but you could have sworn you saw a twinge of concern in his eyes as he looked over to the rest of his friends for backup.

“Let's just go, James. Come on,” the one named Remus said, trying to be the voice of reason.

The bespectacled boy frowned, shoving his wand back in his robes.

“Fine,” he said, “they aren't worth it anyways.”

He turned promptly on his heels, Sirius right behind him and Peter scampering after. Remus stayed behind for a moment, regarding you three.

“I'm sorry about them,” he said, “really.”

Your brow creased in suspicion, but you nodded, not quite smiling but offering up a neutral expression at least before he turned to catch up with the rest of his group.

“You were kidding about (L/n) being cute, right?” Sirius said as they headed back to the common room. When he was met with silence instead of a clear 'of course I was' he nearly had a stroke.

“Are you kidding, James?” Sirius said incredulously, “They're a Slytherin! They're just another dark arts dabbler who doesn't care about anything but their blood status.”

James only shrugged.

“Normally I'd agree, but they seem different,” he said. When he turned to see Sirius' unwavering expression he sighed, “I was just saying that to get a rise out of 'em. Don't worry, this won't be the last time we mess with them and Snivelus.”

Meanwhile, you were still out sitting by the tree, brushing the grass out of Severus' hair.

“That was amazing, (Y/n),” Lily said, wide-eyed, “How did you manage to learn that spell? And you already learned the worm-morphing jinx too?”

“Sev isn't the only one who's been learning ahead,” you said, “but that worm thing was a total bluff.”

“I didn't need your help,” Snape muttered.

You blinked down at him, shaking your head and unable to fight the smirk that crept onto your face.

“Sure you didn't,” you huffed, helping him up to his feet despite his protests, “don't be so dramatic, we won't tell anyone if that's what you're so worried about. Now come on, we're gonna be late for dinner. If Wilkes hogs all the Yorkshire puddings I'm blaming you entirely.”

Severus said nothing, only taking his book and wand back from Lily before you three walked back to the castle arm in arm, the smallest hint of a smile playing on his lips.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“It seems like so long ago,” you said, reminiscing, “Although I suppose it was, but I don't want to think about that too hard— I'll start to feel old, Merlin forbid.”

Harry's eyes were full of disbelief at your story.

“So you, my mum, and. . . Snape were friends?”

“Believe it or not,” you grinned, “unlikely trio as we were, it just sort of worked somehow.”

Until it didn't, you thought grimly, but forced the thought aside. You could tell by how quiet Harry had gotten that something was bothering him.

“My dad really did that?” he asked quietly.

Your gaze softened and you turned to fully face him.

“He was dumb and immature at the time,” you said, “we all were. There's not much else to be when you're thirteen. Each of us made plenty of mistakes, too many to count. And your mum. . . she was good for him. He always told me that she made him want to be a better person. People can change. In my opinion, there are few things someone can do that makes them truly irredeemable, and your father never came close to doing any of those things.”

You thought it better to mention that Snape probably didn't feel the same way.

“In any case, we should be getting to bed,” you said, getting up from the couch, “if you ever want to hear any other stories about your parents, I've got plenty of them.”

“Yeah,” Harry said, smile brightening his whole face, “yeah, definitely. Thank you.”

As Harry walked off to his room you sighed, making your way as quietly as you could up the creaky stairs. Just as you were about to retreat into your own guest room, your eyes snagged on the slightly ajar door at the top of the stairwell.

You stalled in front of it for a moment, wondering if you were out of your mind or not. When you had unapologetically settled on 'yes', you moved to knock on the door when it suddenly swung open. You practically leaped back at the proximity as you were met with Sirius standing in the doorway, stormy eyes wide. He'd shed his leather jacket for the night, leaving him in a dark maroon button up with the top few undone. Your senses were draped with the heady scent of his cologne, and you found yourself grasping at words to say.

When Sirius got over his initial shock he laughed sheepishly, running a hand through his curls out of habit.

“I was about to see if you were awake,” he admitted with a small grin, “Seems we both had the same idea.”

Read chapter 2 here !

[queenshelby]

Pleasure & Pain

50 Shades of Murphy – Part Three

Pairing: Cillian Murphy x Reader

Warning: SMUT, Dom/Sub, BDSM, Edging, Impact Play, Nipple Clamps, Wax Play, Unprotected Intercourse

Words: 5,246

Over the past week, you had signed Cillian’s agreement and had arranged for all of your medical check-ups and, as expected, everything was in order.

You’ve had the implant for about a year already and pregnancy wasn’t a concern.

Cillian, in turn, did the same and it wasn’t until Saturday that you caught up again after Cillian had spent the week in London with his brother.

When you arrived at Cillian’s house, you were rather surprised to see that he had cooked dinner for you and everything started off almost like a regular date.

You got along well and never ran out of interesting conversation material. Nonetheless, that particular evening, you were nervous and a little bit worried about what was to come.

‘You know you can still change your mind’ Cillian said as he poured you a glass of wine, which you finished rather quickly despite the fact that Cillian made clear to you that he wouldn’t give you more than one glass until after your session in his basement.

‘I know, but I won’t. I want see what this is all about. I have been reading up on it and I am not quite so sure why people find joy in inflicting and receiving pain this way’ you said, trying to ascertain what exactly it was that he would do to you.

‘It’s not about the pain. It is about pleasure’ Cillian explained and you nervously bit your lip, unsure how to respond to his statement.

‘So, you think I will enjoy this, being whipped and god knows what else you will do to me’ you said.

‘I am certain that you will. Despite, it’s not just that. You will see’ Cillian said somewhat reassuringly before asking you to get up, get ready and meet him downstairs.

‘So, what do you want me to wear then sir?’ you joked.

‘Nothing at all’ Cillian responded firmly.

‘Nothing? No lingerie?’ you asked surprised and a little disappointed as you bought three sets of sexy lacy underwear with you for him to choose from.

‘Lingerie is overrated. I want you to wait for me on the bed, naked with your hair tight up’ Cillian instructed before giving you a passionate kiss.

‘Yes sir’ you simply said with a wink as your lips drifted apart, knowing very well that you didn’t have to address him like this until you entered the play room.

***

You looked up from where you sat on the bed, completely naked, just as Cillian had instructed, when Cillian entered the room.

He made you wait for at least 15 minutes but you hadn't wanted to explore the room without him. You were simultaneously excited, aroused and fearful of what you might find amongst everything else you saw during your first visit to his house.

Cillian looked gorgeous as he stood in the doorway watching you, wearing nothing but tight black Calvin Klein briefs.

‘I am ready sir’ you said quietly as you watched Cillian walk towards the other end of the room, a small smile playing at the corners of his mouth.

‘No rope tonight?’ you then asked as he returned silently with four leather cuffs, two smaller and two larger ones.

‘Not tonight’ Cillian said and you willingly held out your wrists for him.

‘Not yet. Lie down’ he instructed and you complied, lying down and allowing him to encircle your wrists with each of the cuff before securing them to a leather string which was attached to the bedhead above you.

Whilst the string allowed you to wiggle, it also allowed Cillian to turn you around without undoing the cuffs.

Without words, his eyes followed his fingers as they trailed down your cheek and over your shoulder to your breast where his fingers found your nipple, pinching it gently between his thumb and forefinger and rolling the swollen nub.

Then, Cillian grabbed the other larger cuffs which he placed around your ankles before retrieving a metal bar and attaching it in between the cuffs, keeping your legs spread wide.

‘Fuck, you look so sexy like this, all helpless and at my mercy’ he murmured from where he was sitting.

You smiled and looked up at him, moving your shoulders slightly, trying to wiggle around to get more comfortable.

‘It's adorable watching you try to retain some sense of control in here with me’ Cillian then said before he placed his hands on your shoulders to stop your movements.

‘The moment you signed that contract you surrendered all control of what happens here to me’ he then reminded you as he moved away from you and you watched him as he seemed to be slowing himself down with the distraction of retrieving equipment rather than rebuking your actions.

You said nothing as you watched him take out two candles before placing them on a waist-high shelf beside the bed and lighting them. Almost immediately the room began to fill with a subtle sweet smell. You continued to watch him as he went to a different panel and took several items from the cupboard before approaching you again.

‘You said you would take it easy on me the first time we do this’ you said nervously as you observed him carrying a leather strap towards the bed.

‘If you are a good girl and behave for me, then I will’ Cillian smirked.

‘Hmm, alright, I will be good’ you said somewhat nervously and Cillian could see that you were slightly worried.

‘Do you remember your safe words?’ Cillian then asked and you nodded.

‘Good. How are you feeling, now?’ he asked.

‘Green’ you said with a smile.

‘Good, now close your eyes and keep them closed’ Cillian ordered, wanting you to trust him without him having to blindfold you.

‘Why?’ you asked before you could stop yourself and felt the sting of the strap catch your breast.

‘Because I told you to, and in here we play by my rules’ he said in a low dark voice. ‘Close your eyes and keep them closed’ he repeated his command.

His tone and forcefulness sent a shiver down your spine, and without thinking about it any further, you closed your eyes.

Cillian took a few moments to gaze down on you, still not quite believing that you were here in this room with him and allowing him to use you in this way. He ran his hands over your breasts, playing with your hard-pointed nipples and listening to the small moans of pleasure you emitted.

You took a deep breath a moment before you felt his lips on yours while his hands massaged down your body starting from your shoulders and lingering over your breasts before moving lower across your tummy and then the area of skin just above your mound. You heard him groan deeply as if the slower pace he was moving at was torturing him, and you allowed yourself a small smile that you affected him in the same way his actions were affecting you.

‘Roll’ Cillian almost barked as he took hold of your body and helped you roll over on to your stomach.

The leather strip attached to your cuffs was now twisted tighter towards the bedhead and your legs were still held wide apart by the spreader.

‘Keep your eyes closed’ he instructed and the bed sagged as you felt Cillian's weight beside you on the mattress. He moved further to straddle your thighs, and you felt his hands touch lightly on your shoulders and you tensed as if expecting the strap to land rather than the continued soft touch of his hands.

‘Relax, Y/N. It's important to relax’ he whispered into your ear, his hot breath caressing your neck. ‘Where are we on the scale?’ he then asked softly.

‘Green’ you whispered softly.

‘Good’ he said softly as his hands glided over your ass.

You felt a small thrill flutter inside you as you began to surrender to him while he continued to gently touch and caress your body for at least ten minutes or so.

The feeling was amazing and you began to fantasise as you felt his hands skate around your thighs to just touch at the inner sides, mere centimetres away from your mound.  You felt his hands creep slowly closer but withdraw again, making you whimper at the denial.

Cillian very carefully avoided any contact with your already soaking pussy and, instead, began working his hands around to your outer thighs. You groaned in disappointment and you heard his faint chuckle.

You took a deep breath and tried to concentrate on the movement of his big strong hands again and sighed as you let the breath out.

‘Did you just sigh at me?’ Cillian asked cheekily as, suddenly, he smacked your ass.

‘I am sorry sir’ you squeaked and felt the cool air once again caress your pussy, making you realise just how wet and wanting you were from all of his teasing.

The pull on your ass cheeks stopped and you heard him groan before the mattress moved and you realised he had moved from the bed. You groaned in frustrated need as he stood there gazing down at you for long minutes.

But then, unexpectedly, there was a blow. The blow, when it came, was light and not at all painful, but made you squeak and your head come up in surprise as you registered what had happened.

‘Too light?’ Cillian questioned almost to himself.

The next blow You felt immediately as it landed over the first and made you hiss between closed teeth and lips and became clear to you that it was the leather strip that was coming down on your ass.

‘How do you feel?’ Cillian asked.

‘Green’ you whispered breathily, the heat from the blow starting to warm your ass. Three more blows came on the other cheek, seeming to hit in the same spot and stinging you with their heat.

‘Y/N?’ he questioned.

‘Green’ you said in a whimpering moan.

‘This is going to be more fun than I imagined then’ he taunted your and let loose a barrage of blows across your ass and upper thighs, making you moan loudly.

‘That’s a good girl’ Cillian praised the louder moan that had escaped your lips. ‘How are you feeling?’ he asked as he paused.

‘Green’ you moaned in a purring way as you settled into the heat and subtle pain of your ass and thighs.

‘Ready?’ he asked, adoring the way you had answered him and enjoying the moment more than he could ever remember in the past. He saw your body tremble in anticipation and raised the strap again.

The first few strikes across the cheeks of your ass seemed lighter to you, as if just reheating the marks already imprinted on your skin. The warmth and sensations they caused were more than manageable, and you never thought to warn him by changing your colour of answer when he asked again. As he continued the increasing intensity of the strikes against your skin, they began to overwhelm you a little more as he worked the strap back down your thighs, giving your ass a small reprieve.

Your head spun, and a deep, intense rush of adrenaline shot through you, firing your brain and numbing the burning hot sting of your ass. You barely heard the words as he demanded to know how you were feeling, and you groaned out green again, feeling your body react not only to the strikes of his strap but also his commanding voice.

Cillian paused and ran his hands over your now burning skin, feeling the heat radiating from it and hearing your soft whimpering as he squeezed the fiery cheeks of your ass.

‘Unbelievable’ Cillian groaned and started to massage the colourful flesh of your ass again, revelling in your ability to take so much from him.

‘Finally, you relax’ he chuckled as he rewarded you by sliding a finger through your slick lips to tease you for a minute.

‘And you are so fucking wet too’ he then observed as he watched your hips buck almost involuntarily as he finally touched your pussy. You felt the teasing finger travel through your folds and playfully teasing at your clit, making your let out a purring moan of appreciation and test the bonds that held your arms above your head.

‘You are something else Y/N’ Cillian murmured in a pleased light tone, and began to insert a finger into you, marvelling at how tight you felt like this and feeling your muscles clutch at his finger as if wanting to draw it deeper. The tension soon became to much for you and you tried to grind yourself against his hand.

‘No! Don’t move’ Cillian scolded, withdrawing his finger and smacking your ass again. ‘Remember who is in control?’ he murmured darkly. ‘Let's try this again, shall we? Cillian then asked as he reinserted his finger and curled it down, seeking out the rough area of skin within your that would push your over the edge.

You whimpered in high purring moans, and when he added a second finger to the first massaging your g-spot with force, you couldn't control the rock of your hips as you built up to what promised to be an earth-shattering climax. Once again Cillian withdrew his fingers and smacked your ass even harder than before, making you cry out even louder.

‘Think carefully before you move!’ Cillian growled. ‘How are you feeling?’ he asked, and watched your take a shaky breath as you thought about what was happening.

‘Green’ you whimpered again.

‘Good’ Cillian said as he moved back down your body to kneel on the end of the bed again and grasped your hips in both hands, raising them and encouraging you to pull your knees below you to hold the position while your ankles were still spread apart.

On your knees, you felt the muscles in your thighs and ass stretch and pull at your damaged skin, and you whimpered softly as you knelt with your ass high and your head low against the mattress where your arms were chained forward and in place.

You concentrated on these feelings of discomfort as he once again pushed his fingers into you and continued to massage your g-spot, bringing you rapidly back to the point you had been only minutes before. You desperately tried not to grind back against his hand, realising your mistake now, but as the muscles in your thighs and ass continued to burn.

Cillian watched you carefully for all of the tell-tale signs that you were close to coming. You were panting heavily, and your body seemed to shudder as you tried to maintain your position for him. The sounds you made became increasingly higher pitched and, as he saw the muscles in your thighs trembling, he withdrew his fingers, leaving you on the edge of what would have been an amazing climax.

‘Remember to ask me for permission if you want to come?’ Cillian said in a low voice as you cried out, your body moving to seek the renewed contact, and he smacked you, pulling your legs from under your so that you landed heavily back onto the bed whimpering softly.

‘I was so close’ you whimpered piteously.’

‘Well, that’s too bad, isn’t it? In fact, you should really be punished for trying to come without my permission’ Cillian then said.

‘Punished?’ you asked somewhat worried as you looked at him.

‘I had thought about spanking you and leaving it at that, but it seems you enjoyed that a lot more than I had considered you would’ Cillian grinned. ‘Which I am more than pleased about, believe me’ he added with an elvish smile before he hoovered back over you.

‘Hmm, what am I going to do to you?’ Cillian murmured, moving forward to whisper huskily close to your ear. The movement had his cock lightly dragging up your back and you could feel how hard he was despite of the fabric of the briefs separating your skin from his.

You tried desperately not to think about how much you wanted to feel him inside you right at that moment, and you closed your eyes, trying to relax, but the feel of his mostly naked body against you was almost too much to bear.

Again, you wiggled your body against him as he briefly ran his hand over your mound.

‘So wet and needy’ he commented as his hand skated down over the lips of your pussy. Inserting one finger in you, he murmured ‘and so tight.’

‘That is a result of all your teasing. Please just fuck me’ you purred, feeling your arousal build again as he slowly moved his finger in and out of your tight hole.

You then felt the finger withdraw from you again and his body lean over yours as Cillian unstrapped you from the bedhead and removed the metal bar in between your ankles, but leaving the cuffs in situ for later perusal.

‘How are you feeling?’ he asked.

‘Green’ you sighed and gave a small smile.

‘Good’ he then said before pulling you up into his arms.

Your heart began to race and you looked into his deep blue eyes seeing your own need and desire reflected back at you.

Cillian stood and helped you from the bed before he led you to a waist-high padded bench on the other side of the room, and once again Cillian pulled your arms back and joined your wrist cuffs together behind your back as you stood perfectly still. He went to a panel on the wall and retrieved another slightly shorter metal bar and bent to your ankles, attaching them to rings on the cuffs before lengthening the bar and pushing your feet widely apart.

‘Fuck, look at you’ he groaned, finally standing in front of you. His hands cupped your breasts and he lowered his head to one nipple, biting it without much force but enough to make you whimper. His fingers worked at the soft flesh as his mouth continued to tease both nipples to hard points.

‘Do you know what these are?’ he asked, tilting his head.

‘Clamps?’ you questioned in return and gave him a concerned stare.

‘Yes’ he said with a husky voice, rolling your nipple between his thumb and forefinger. Then, he attached one to your nipple, and you found that, to your surprise, it was easily bearable.

You looked down as he attached the second clamp and let the chain swing freely between your breasts.

‘Hmm’ you moaned, biting your lip just as he tugged on the chain slightly until he saw your grimace.

‘How are you feeling? Cillian asked.

‘Still green, just’ you breathed, not wanting him to tighten them any further.

‘I was hoping for amber’ he smirked and gave the chain a small tug again, causing you to whimper and clench your teeth.

‘Do we have amber?’ he asked in a deep husky voice.

‘Yes fuck, oh god…amber’ you shouted out as Cillian watched you bite your lip.

‘Your nipples are sensitive’ he grinned before telling you again to stay still as he walked away from you momentarily.

‘Oh god, no’ you huffed out, breathing heavily as he returned with the candles, he had earlier lit and placed on one of the shelves.

You had read about this and knew that the hot wax would soon be covering part of your body.

After sharing a passionate kiss, you reluctantly nodded and Cillian captured your eyes with his own as he tilted the candle, slowly pouring hot wax over the skin of your breasts, making you gasp and whine in a long-drawn-out sound.

‘How are you feeling?’ he asked once both sides of your breasts were covered with cooling white dots of wax, making the skin around the dots of wax change colour and feed his arousal.

‘Amber’ you looked at him with teary eyes.

Cillian knew that it was the clamps that were causing you the most discomfort, and realising this was your first experience with them decided not to leave them in place any longer. He pulled the chain with a quick tug, making the clamps dig deeply into you before finally sliding free and making your cry out and rock in your stance. He moved to support you, his head lowering to capture and soothe a nipple in his mouth as he fingers gently massaged the other back to life. He spent long minutes going from one to the other as you whimpered softly, and when he finally stepped back he groaned deeply.

There were tear tracks in your make-up, and, where the wax had peeled and flaked away, large splotches marked your skin. Cillian was beyond turned on by the mere sight of you. So much so that he had to consciously get control of himself and breathe deeply.

‘How do you feel?’ he asked softly, reaching out to run a finger over your breast, flicking away some of the larger spots of wax.

‘Green again, I think’ you huffed and you couldn’t believe that, by that point, you were dripping onto the floor. To your surprise, the pain and Cillian pushing your limits turned you on.

‘So sensitive’ Cillian smiled as he played with your nipples again before he lowered his head and dropped a kiss on each one, still trying to regain control of his need to stop the game and just fuck you.

‘Please fuck me Cillian’ you begged, and every other thought about gaining control of his desires fled from Cillian's mind. He picked you up, turning you around and pushed you down over the bench you stood beside. He stepped behind you and thrust into you with a deep groan, stilling his movements for several minutes before pulling back, leaving only the head of his cock embedded in you.

‘You were so eager to have me finger fuck you earlier that you couldn't control yourself from pushing onto my hand. Let's see how well you can hold still now’ Cillian said, groaning deeply as he was all the way inside you and started to drip more wax onto your lower back, making you lurch forward again and turn your head, straining to see him and the candle he now held.

‘How are you feeling?’ he asked.

‘Green’ you replied automatically and the wax thankfully cooled fast in the small trickle that had run over the top of your ass and down your thigh.

You were desperate for traction, but he gave you none. You felt his cock pulsate inside of you as he poured more wax onto you. You didn't pull away quite so much this time and, for your good behaviour, you were rewarded with several long and steady thrusts, causing you to moan loudly.

You caught on to his game fairly rapidly and, the next time the wax dripped onto your skin, you remained still so that he would continue to fuck you.

Cillian enjoyed your whimpers and jerky movements as he used the wax several more times before finally losing his battle against himself and pushing you forward and pumping into you hard and fast. Aware that he had denied you continually earlier, he used his fingers on your clit and felt you stiffen and arch your back against him.

‘Sir, may I come, please’ you groaned just before the first of your climaxes rolled through your body.

‘Yes princess. You did well’ he finally said and his free hand gripped one of your breasts and held you in the strange hard arch as he continued to fuck you remorselessly, and he felt you shudder and cry out as your orgasm ripped through you.

‘Oh god yes fuck’ you moaned and screamed as you climaxed in a way you never had before and Cillian was soon losing his own battle against his orgasm, but he continued on; one hand working your clit and the other mauling your breast as he pounded you as hard as he could.

Then, another climax rocked you physically, almost causing you to pass out.

By this point, Cillian couldn’t hold on much longer either and, with a loud groan and two more thrusts, he came as hard as you did, spilling his cum deep inside you.

‘Fuck’ Cillian cursed, and with unknown reserves he picked you up and staggered to the bed, freeing you from the bonds on your arms and legs. He felt your pulse and checked your breathing before climbing onto the bed beside you and cradling you in his arms.

‘How are you feeling?’ he then asked, kissing your neck gently as he did.

‘Fucking fantastic’ you murmured as you watched Cillian look all over your body, taking in the marks he had left.

‘I want to do this again…the orgasm after all this, it was out of this world’ you huffed out.

‘I told you it was about pleasure and not just pain’ Cillian said before he groaned deep in his chest as his arousal began to grow again. He didn't think he could ever tire of having you like this.

‘Oh my, eager are we sir?’ you giggled as your breathing had finally returned to normal after all this and you sat up, leaned down and kissed Cillian passionately.

Without giving him a chance to assert dominance over you again, you were quick to climb on top of him and lower yourself down onto his hard cock.

To your surprise, he didn’t protest as you began to fuck him and his warm hands soon found your breasts where he flicked his fingers over your nipples.

‘Oh god, fuck’ you moaned as you rode him and felt the heat seep into your body and the tendrils of pain that radiated from your nipples spread out, helping you climb toward yet another huge climax.

Cillian dropped his hand and, taking careful aim, he spanked you, adding to the already bruised flesh of your ass. You whimpered and moaned, the combined sound once again coming out as a heated high-pitched purr as you rode him and ground down onto his cock. He alternated between the two areas, your breasts and your ass, and reached out to steady you as you arched hard, pushing down into him and shaking almost violently as you came again. The sight of you looking well used and trembling in ecstasy was enough for him to give into the milking muscles of your pussy. He came with you, coating your insides once more with his seed before pulling you down on top of him once your body had relaxed out of the hard arch, and he held you tightly, stroking your hair as you settled back down to earth along with him.

‘I never knew it could be this good’ you whispered as you stroked your hand over Cillian's chest and lay there listening to his racing heartbeat slow.

‘I must say, I never enjoyed it as much as I did tonight with you’ Cillian said gently before kissing you passionately once more.

‘How about we get some sleep, hmm?’ he then asked as he sat up and you momentarily thought that this is where you would be sleeping together.

To your surprise, Cillian was quick to pick you up and carry you upstairs to what clearly was his bedroom.

He then placed you onto the large bed, climbed in next to you and covered both your bodies with the large doona.

After spending aa good two hours together in the basement, you were exhausted and, after a few kisses it didn’t take you long to fall asleep in Cillian’s arm.

***

The following morning you both were woken up by the doorbell ringing at around 8 o’clock.

‘Are you expecting anyone?’ you asked still half asleep and Cillian shook his head before getting up and grabbing a t-shirt from his wardrobe.

‘Coming’ Cillian yelled out as the doorbell rang a second time and he was already on his way downstairs.

Unsure what was going on, you got dressed with whatever you found in Cillian’s cabinet and, when you heard the door for a second time after about ten minutes, you made your way downstairs thinking that, whoever came to visit, had now left.

To your surprise, this wasn’t the case when you saw two women stand in Cillian’s kitchen, making themselves a cup of coffee.

‘Oh hello there.... Cilly, you didn’t tell us you had company’ the blonde woman in her mid-sixties said with a wide a smile before introducing herself to you.

‘I am Leanne, Cillian’s mother’ she said as she quickly grabbed another cup from the cabinet for you.

‘I am Y/N, nice to meet you’ you said somewhat embarrassed before you recalled having seen the other woman who was standing in Cillian’s kitchen before. It was Cillian’s sister who he had dinner with at the restaurant that night he asked you out.

After Cillian introduced you to his sister, he mentioned to you that his mother likes to come and visit unannounced whenever she stays with his sister and the grandchildren.

‘Well darling, I just need to make sure my son is doing alright and has enough to eat’ she said with a wink as she unpacked a whole big rattan basket full of homemade scones, jam and some homemade bread.

‘I always told him that he needs a good woman in his life’ she then said as she walked over towards you and handed you one of the scones.

‘Scones for breakfast?’ Cillian chuckled as he watched his mother inspecting you.

‘Love, you have something stuck to your hair…may I?’ his mum then asked and you turned around which is when she pulled a bit of wax from the back of your neck and hair.

‘Looks like wax’ she then chuckled before putting the piece of candle wax on the kitchen bench.

Her actions caused you to flush with embarrassment and you hoped that she wouldn’t notice the marks on your legs and wrists from where the cuffs were affixed the evening before.

‘Well, Y/N does like candles’ Cillian smirked as he bit into his scone almost unbothered by his mother’s presence.

‘Oh Love, you should come to the farmers markets with us then. We are leaving at 10 o’clock. They have fantastic home-made candles for sale. Then you could come and have lunch with us. I always make a roast on Sundays’ Cillian’s mother suggested.

‘Mum’s roast is the best. Do you want to come? I might even come along to the markets, eh’ Cillian then said, catching you by surprise.

‘Yes, uhm…I would love to. Thank you’ you responded shyly.

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[levi-my-beloved]

Birds of a Feather

Chapter one

Pairings: Canon!Levi x F!reader

Content warnings: violence, swearing

Word count: 4K

Summary: You were the most notorious criminal in the Underground City. With your organisation of highly skilled professionals, only one man could take you down. He also happened to be Humanity’s Strongest… and your ex.

A/N: asdfghjkl hello there. so, this has been on my brain for a while now, so i started this as just a drabble. what i thought would stay as just a drabble turned into this 22k+ multi chapter fic because i have zero self restraint or self respect. i’m currently finishing chapter 5 as this is being posted, but i want to keep chapters posted around once every two weeks so i can keep up with the workload. maybe once a week if i start feeling spicy. yeah plot twist this is actually the second time i’ve drafted this up. the first time i managed to get everything done and in order and then manages to delete the entire post with my huge disgusting thumbs. Genuinely felt like crying for a good half an hour.

This is also my first Levi fic! yay! lmk if it sucks and idk i’ll cry or something. nah, in all seriousness please send me criticism cuz i really want to improve and critiques are the best way.

𖣔𖣔𖣔𖣔𖣔𖣔𖣔𖣔𖣔𖣔𖣔𖣔𖣔𖣔𖣔𖣔𖣔𖣔𖣔𖣔𖣔𖣔

“How down, Raven?”

“Six feet.”

Within the dank confines of a stinking alleyway, two green capes marked with the Military Police insignia crept ever closer to the taller, run-down building upon which you and your little squad of Shadows were now perched. No sunlight illuminated your position. Not that you’d ever seen the sun, or know what it even looked like, but you based your guesses upon the pathetic rays shining through the grates littering the ceiling of the Underground City.

The language you used with your Shadows, coded words translated to:

‘How do you want them to be dealt with?’

‘Death.’

It was something developed by your late guardian and mentor, Viper. See, you all had aliases in The Nest, your criminal organisation. The leader was often referred to as The Raven, however your mentor preferred to use his own nickname, stemming from his own reputation.

Then come the aliases for your Shadows. Prongs was your second, a tall, stern looking man with the black mask of a stag settled across his features.

Then came Wolf, and you swore the first time you’d set eyes on him, you thought a titan had wandered into the city. He was enormous, all 6ft 6ins of him carved in hard muscle. Slicked back silver hair and a beard that to rival a bear. Similar to Prongs, a mask sat upon his face, resembling that of a snarling wolf.

Following him was Verdant, Scales and Diablo. Your power trio. Though their special talents lay in different professions, get these three together and they were borderline unstoppable. A white mask decorated with three broad maple leaves obscured Verdant’s pretty features, Scales sported a bronze half mask etched with a snake-like diamond pattern, whilst Diablo, your trained escort, had opted for something that accentuated her own gorgeous features, a mask of black leather arcing high onto her brow on the left side, whilst the right arced low by her jaw. Though you were already spoken for, you couldn’t deny the beauty of Diablo. She did wonders when prying information between the legs of a moaning MP.

To your left crouched the twins, Una and Leaf. Una was gifted her name by none other than you yourself, after seeing her accuracy with a rifle. A single shot was all it took, from any distance. She wore no mask, something you’d allowed simply because she’d complained about the sight obstruction when lining up a shot. You’d agreed, but only under the condition that she wore a low hood. Her fiercely protective brother Leaf had chewed you out for that, but you knew he meant well. Leaf was good at what he did, excellent, in fact. Which was part of the reason you kept him on as a Shadow. The larger part was that you were damn fond of him. Of all of them, in fact. You loved every single one of your Shadows. Every single damned member of The Nest, you adored. You were their leader, afterall.

A masked helmet of black leather, similar material to Diablo’s, perched snug upon your own features. The hooked beak and obsidian feathers of a raven decorated the necessity, covering your face and hair, though leaving your lower features visible. It was a rite of passage, for you especially, and it signalled the start of your leadership.

“Una, set up. Verdant, Prongs, roundabout. Wolf…” your eyes slid to the giant man on your right, a dark smile slicing across your mouth. “Heel.”

The boulder of a man visibly sagged, clearly disappointed at your orders whilst the others sprang into action. Prongs and Verdant leapt across the rooftops in separate directions whilst Una removed her rifle from her back, parting her heavy cloak to reveal rounds and rounds of bullets strapped across her body. Leaf nestled closer into her side, whilst the other four took a step back. It was obvious you’d all been at this for a very long time, despite the twins not looking a day older than sixteen. In fact, most of your squad was younger than you, save for Wolf and Prongs, who had served their respective roles twice previously.

Sitting back on your heels, you watched your team get to work, the warmth of pride blossoming in your chest. Whilst you knew Prongs and Wolf were already incredibly skilled, the rest had flourished under your leadership. It had been ten years since you’d witnessed MPs put a bullet through your mentor’s skull. Ten long years since you’d taken up leadership and expanded the reaches of The Nest. Honestly, you were pretty proud of yourself, and none more so than when you watched your Shadows do what they do best.

Taking care of unwanted visitors.

Una took aim, resting the butt of her rifle in the crook of her shoulder, staring down the makeshift scope. She would be ready to take care of the two soldiers if either Prongs or Verdant failed to eliminate their targets.

Speaking of which…

That kernel of pride ignited as your (E/C) eyes followed Verdant’s careful, calculating form dropping from the rooftops above the alleyway, in sync with Prong’s own movements. The two assassins swooped with the grace of a stooping hawk, the silver glint of metal caught your eye as they both brandished their blades, before sinking the steel into the necks of the two soldiers. You didn’t need to be closer to see they were both dead. Expert precision. Deadly accuracy. That was why these people were your hand-picked Shadows. And why you were the most formidable gang leader in the Underground City. Your little criminal organisation had expanded into something to rival the killcount of Kenny the Ripper. You couldn’t help but chuckle at the thought.

Una lowered her weapon, strapping it back in the buckles between her shoulder blades.

“Finished.” she simply stated, turning back to drop down between the shattered tiles and splintered ceiling beams that marked your entrance and exit to this lookout point.

“Rendezvous back at The Nest,” you ordered flatly, before dropping forward and into the alleyway below.

“Anything?” you ask, a brow raised behind your raven mask as you saunter over. Prongs held up two sets of blades from one of the crimson bodies now gathering dirt and grime. Useless to you as they were, but somebody would definitely find an interest in them. Verdant seemed to be struggling with the straps of whatever gear these mosquitoes used to fly around. You’d never been able to figure out how to use it, but that shit made good money when in doubt. However, your usual buyers had disappeared off the face of the city, and you’d noticed a decline in gear sales since then. Gritting your teeth, you shook your head to Verdant, laying a hand on her shoulder.

“Don’t. It’s not worth it. The thug trio haven’t been back in years. I doubt they’d return to us now,” you explain softly, prompting the girl to stop her struggles and huff defeatedly. You’re heart ached softly at the thought of him, but you pushed the feeling down.

“Here,” she muttered, handing you another rifle. It seemed to be a newer model, something of an upgrade for Una.

“You did good, Ver. I’m proud of you,” that seemed to immediately lighten the girl’s mood, her eyes shining behind her mask as her mouth widened into a toothy grin.

“Thanks Raven!” she beamed, before scampering off back to The Nest, almost forgetting to take the gun back from your outstretched hand in her haste to make it back and tell everyone she’d received a compliment from you. It wasn’t an everyday occurrence. Rather it only happened once in a blue moon…

A huffed chuckle had your head turning and eyes narrowing to your second in command.

“Can I help you?” you ask, your tone dripping with the poisonous threat of hell if he chose his next words poorly. But Prongs continued to smile ever so slightly, shaking his head.

“Not at all, Raven. It’s just, in the last few years, since you drafted her into the Shadows, she’s really come into her own,” Prongs explained simply, shrugging as she stooped to kick over the now drained corpse, hoping to find anything useful. You bristle ever so slightly. That was something you hated. Compliments. How the fuck were you supposed to respond? You tried to think back to when Viper tried to teach you simple social skills.

“Uh, yeah. She has,” you respond, keeping your features as neutral as you could as you turned away, beginning to trudge back to The Nest.

“I’m serious, Rave. You’ve done incredible things for us. You know Viper would be proud of you. I am too. But…” Prongs trailed off, clearing having something to say but not knowing how to say it.

“Go on. But what?” you pressed, wanting to hear what your second in command had to say.

“Well, don’t you think it’s a bit much? Rave, it’s been years. Eyes have started looking in our direction since those three vanished. You don’t think we should be lying low for a bit? Calming suspicions instead of rousing them?” Prongs offered gently. You knew, deep down, he was right. But some notable gang disappearing hasn’t stopped you before, and it sure as hell wouldn’t stop you now.

“I’ll talk to Scar about it,” even just the mention of your advisor, and wife’s name gave your stomach butterflies. Scarlett Obsidine, your other, and better, half. After the disappearance of a certain dark haired man, Scar was the woman who comforted you, and though you missed him dearly, your heart managed to haphazardly piece itself back together and love all over again.

“Rave, listen—“

“Let’s go,” Prongs closed his mouth, the tone of your voice stating clearly that this matter wasn’t up for discussion. Especially not with him.

⎈⎈⎈⎈⎈⎈⎈⎈

“You know he’s right,” you couldn’t help but sigh when your wife’s soft tones calmed your irritated mood. Soft hands gently kneaded at the tense muscles in your shoulders, forcing them to relax as a tired moan escaped your lips. Leaning back, you peer into her shining sapphire eyes, locks of brunette framing your face as she took the sides of your cheeks in her hands and leaned down, softly pecking your lips with her own. You couldn’t help humming a smile against her mouth, reaching up to deepen the kiss, but she pulled away before you could.

“Scaaaaar…” you pout, looking up at her mischievous smirk as she winked playfully.

“(Y/N)...” Scarlett sighed, swinging her legs over your body to sink into your lap, one thumb now caressing one of the most prominent features on your face. A nasty, jagged scar ran down from the the top of your forehead, over your right eye and finishing just past your jaw bone. One (E/C) iris lighter than the other as a result of the old wound. Soft lips chase away the shadows of your past as Scarlett replaced her thumb with her mouth.

“(Y/N), I don’t want to find you dead in some alleyway because you picked a fight you couldn’t win,” a finger poked your chest as she huffed above you, feigning irritation. You roll your eyes, (E/C) landing on your gear now strung across the table. That raven helmet almost calling to you as you shook your head. Disagreeing with your wife was never a good idea, but you were feeling particularly bold this evening.

“Look. So many jobs have opened up recently. We have so many opportunities to make this life more comfortable. More jobs means more money, more money means we can afford the gate toll and actually see the world above ground. And I can finally buy you an actual ring.”. Technically, you two weren’t married. Who the fuck would be stupid enough to perform marriage ceremonies in the underground City? But, it was easier than saying you were devoted to each other in every single way.

Lightly smacking your chest, Scarlett raised herself from your lap with a hefty sigh. “One of these days (Y/N), you’re going to be captured or killed,” she said quietly, unable to meet your eyes. “And then what the hell will I do…?” Scarlett had now completely turned away from you, shoulders hunched. Running a hand down your face, you pick your sore body up from the chair, reaching her in a matter of strides.

“I can’t give this up, Scar. You know that. You knew that when you chose to be with me. You knew The Nest was always going to be my priority,” you held out your arm, hand hovering over her back, not sure whether to comfort her or let her go. The admission almost had her in tears, you could tell by the way her shoulders shook ever so gently.

“You still miss him don’t you?” It was her vulnerable, defeated tone that alerted you to the slight change of topic.

You fell silent, not really knowing how to respond. Yes, of course you missed him. You loved him more than anything. But those days are over, you knew that. You’d cried enough those following nights after his disappearance.

He was probably dead anyway.

“Of course I do,” you wouldn’t lie to her. That wasn’t fair. But you knew the truth was just as painful for her.

“Will I ever be enough? Will I ever be enough to replace him?” the sound of her voice had your heart in pieces. You loved Scarlett. You really did. But your heart wouldn’t let you love her wholly. Part of yourself will always be dedicated to that grumpy kid you’d fallen for all those years ago.

“Scar… I—”

“I know,” she whispered, stepping forward away from your outstretched grasp. “I know,” you watched as the woman you loved, and who loved you, stepped from your shared quarters, hovering in the doorway. “I’m sorry I asked,” she closed the door as she left, leaving you a frustrated, conflicted mess.

⎈⎈⎈⎈⎈⎈⎈⎈

“Understood, I’ll bring them in right away. Thank you Niles,” The Commander of the MPs stood opposite Erwin, arms folded. An expression of irritation plastered on his sunken features. Erwin simply sighed, realising Niles was wanting to stay for this seemingly impromptu meeting. With a nod of his head, a cadet rushed off to find the two soldiers mentioned in their little conversation. Being Commander of the Scouts often had its perks, like having cadets around to run errands for him.

Niles cleared his throat, taking a seat on the green leather sofa within Erwin’s office. “You sure he’d help us? I mean, it wasn’t too long ago he actually decided killing you was probably a bad idea.”—he raised a thin brow, peering at Erwin with barely concealed suspicion—“I’m pretty sure the Underground City would be the last place he’d want to return.” a knock at the door cut their conversation short, both turning their heads as Erwin called;

“Enter.”

Hange was the first to make her presence known, poking her head in as she opened the door. A smile adorned the slightly dishevelled section commander, her hair sticking up in all directions. Clearly she had been in the middle of something when Erwin requested her presence.

“You asked to see us, Erwin?” her eyes sparkling with curiosity behind her glasses as she stepped through the door.

“Tch, just make it quick, I have shit to do,” the monotone voice of Levi behind her made Erwin pinch the bridge of his nose. How many times has he told him not to talk to him like that?

“Yes, come in and make yourselves comfortable.” Hange immediately took up a seat next to Niles on the sofa, Levi preferring to stand against the now closed door, arms folded. Erwin’s sharp eyes shifted to Niles, an indication for the MP Commander to speak.

“Well, no point in beating around the bush. We’ve received an anonymous tip about some criminal gang that’s been plaguing my soldiers in the Underground City.” Levi visibly stiffened at the mention of his old home. His jaw tensed in anticipation. There would be only one reason he would be called into such a discussion, and the answer was a firm no.

Without his permission, his mind flashed back to a (H/C) girl, her face etched with that ever mischievous smirk. He quelled the thoughts as quickly as he could. He needed his wits with him, and allowing his mind to wander back to what he’d left behind wouldn’t help anything. Besides, the likelihood of you being alive was close to none.

“Section Commander, I don’t suppose you would have heard of the group but Captain Levi here surely would have done. The Nest.” Niles continued, now eyeing Levi to gage his reaction. And for a man whose emotions were usually on a tight leash, this seemed to be what cracked his impenetrable walls. His eyes flew wide open, frantically searching between Niles and Erwin. They couldn’t be serious. The Nest? That was where Farlan and Isobel used to—

Shit, he really needed to keep his thoughts at bay. But what he did know was that The Nest was an impenetrable fortress of criminal activity. Trying to mess with them was suicide.

“Judging by your reaction, I’m going to assume you are familiar with them, Levi,” Erwin’s surprisingly calm tone eased the growing tension in the room. Taking a subtle breath to calm himself, Levi’s eyes narrowed to his commander.

“Yeah. I know of it. Why?” it was a rhetorical question, he already knew why, but he wanted to hear it from Erwin himself. Hange looked incredibly confused, looking between the men in the office, trying to glean something, anything, about what the hell was going on.

“The Nest? Why are they so bad?” she asked, not afraid to show how completely oblivious she is to anything that doesn’t concern titans or science. Erwin gestured to Levi.

“Levi? Care to explain? You probably know more than myself and Niles combined,” though his voice seemed kind, there was a slight edge to his deep tones. One that didn’t go unnoticed by Levi.

A heavy silence filled the room as the Captain wracked his brain for all the information he could think of regarding the organisation. It seemed like hours before he finally spoke.

“Well, you got one thing right. The Nest is a criminal organisation. A nasty one at that. Merciless bastards. Whether you’re a soldier or a citizen, they don’t give a shit. They’ll leave you a broken, bloodied mess in the street. I don’t know much about their leader. Only that he took over from the previous one around ten-ish years ago. Since then, they’ve expanded their shitty little gang and taken over an entire section of the city,” he explained, poison lacing his tone. It wasn’t that he was above the whole gang thing, oh no. It was more the state Farlan would be in before he left to meet whoever the fuck led that group of demons. He’d never seen his friend so anxious. So afraid.

“You never met him? Their leader?” Erwin inquired, lacing his hands together on the desk in front of him. Levi scoffed, rolling his eyes.

“If I had, I would tell you. But I know he’s smart. And not the good kind of smart. The kind of smart where he would always be ten steps ahead of you. He has a small group of trusted criminals surrounding him at all times, called his Shadows. They’ll be the ones to look out for,” Despite his voice sounding bored, Levi’s heart was racing. They couldn’t seriously be thinking of facing The Nest, could they? But something in the expressions of both Niles and Erwin told him he was wrong. Dead wrong.

“They’ve been picking off my soldiers. Always in the same places as well. I was going to leave it, just tell them to avoid certain areas until this tip. Their next job. We know what it is,” Niles interjected, looking down to the floor, his own mind a whirlwind.

“And you want to intercept them. The same way you did with me, right?” Levi finished through gritted teeth. This was absurd. There was no way they could pick them all off. Unless… that wasn’t the goal. Levi’s grey eyes widened slightly, realising what they wanted to do. Yep, this was total suicide. Hange clapped her hands together almost excitedly, as if she was also able to read Erwin’s mind.

“You want to capture him! The leader! Ah! This all makes so much sense now, I was starting to wonder why I was here,” the scientist mused almost to herself, before jumping to her feet. “This is the perfect opportunity to test some of the concept traps I have in mind. Obviously for titans they’d need to be much, MUCH bigger. And of course a few modifications would have to be made so they could adapt to size and body type but oooooooh this is so exciting! I’ll start right away!'' Without allowing anybody to get a word in edgeways, Hange dashed back to her lab to begin her preparations.

“Thank you Erwin, the Military Police will remember this,” Niles said, before he too was rising from his seat. Throwing Levi an unsure glance, he made his way towards the door, only to be shoved into the hallway by Levi, who promptly closed the door behind him.

“Don’t.” he simply said, turning back to Erwin who was peering at him, his expression puzzled. Levi rolled his eyes again, clearly having to clarify what he meant. “Don’t pursue them. It’s suicide,” The Commander’s expression relaxed slightly in understanding.

“We don’t have a choice, Levi. Not only are hundreds of MPs being slaughtered down there, but relationships between the Scouts and the MPs are strenuous at best. It would be in our best interests to—“

“Bullshit.”

Erwin sighed again, having to hold his tongue. Snapping at Levi now for his language would only rile up the man more.

“Levi, we already have a plan in motion. There are soldiers down there now meeting whoever gave us that anonymous tip to further discuss the job The Nest has taken. It’ll be fine, but you’re going to have to trust me.” Erwin’s eyes bore into Levi’s own, the man once again asking his Captain to trust him in a risky call he’s made. Levi’s done it so many times before, why was it so difficult now?

It took yet another pregnant silence before Levi eventually yielded.

“Fine, but don’t be surprised when we’re once again forced to retreat with our tails between our legs.” it was a savage comment, but one that Erwin didn’t take to heart as he watched the raven haired man leave. Yes, this was a risk, but all his risks so far had worked out fairly well. There was no reason why this one would fail. No reason at all.

Levi leant against the door to Erwin’s office, looking down the hallway before letting loose a long breath. Not only would he have to go toe to toe with The Raven, but he also had to face so much of his past he’d wanted to forget. Fuck, this was a terrible idea. Why did Erwin always have to gamble? It was exhausting for everyone else involved.

Folding his arms, the shorter man strode back to his own office, lost in thought the entire way. Would he see you again? Were you even alive? Did you know just how much he had missed you. Just how much he’d wanted to see you again. To hold you again.

Did you know he’d looked for you? How his heart shattered over and over again each time he found no trace of you. He’d never accepted you were gone. Always holding onto that thorn of hope that maybe, just maybe, you’d survived.

Collapsing in his chair behind his desk, Levi unlocked the bottom draw and gently pulled it out. He delicately picked out a small, ebony bird feather you’d crafted into a quill pen. Even though neither of you knew how to write, you knew back then how much he had wanted to learn despite never voicing it directly. All those nights spent copying out basic letters from discarded newspapers and wanted posters. You always had this way of reading his mind.

The smallest fond smile crept across his usually bored face. God he missed you. It had been years and he still missed you like he only lost you yesterday.

[nysus-temple]

SO rememeber this picrew of the gang? Well, I've seen many people doing it with Cronus's children ( you know who ) but as much as I like this picrew and the artist's style, I don't think those six look very good in it. So I found this one and decided to try and make more or less how they look in my story like the last one !

I think it's pretty clear who is who, but in case you're not sure: Hades · Hestia · Poseidon · Demeter · Hera · Zeus

Now, explanation time, wuh !

Hades:

The oldest of them ! He has a friendly look, am I right? HAH—

Lately, I've been reading how ghosts were portrayed in Ancient Greece, and for my surprise, it wasn't such a big deal. Either they were extremelly pale to a point of looking like a living corpse ( wich makes sense ) or they looked literally like a shadow ( wich also makes sense ). So here you go, Hades looks like a living corpse and wears everything black, pretty obvious to notice he rules the Underworld and never comes out. Not in full-body at least. He's the one who resembles Rhea the most out of the six.

Hestia:

The oldest of the girls !

She was born with a more humanoid-like appearance like the rest, but while growing up, she started becoming more and more like fire with human form. Yes, she is literally made of fire, albe to show only the face and the chest without flames. No, she isn't wearing any clothing, how could she if she's literally walking fire? Her eyes are grey, kind of resembling ashes.

Poseidon:

The tallest of the boys !

His hair was originally blonde, but like Hestia, he changed while he was growing until he took this appearance. He was born with the fish scales tho, they just were more similar to the skin color. Behind the necklace he has gills, wich he hides when coming out of the sea.

Demeter:

The tallest of the girls !

I wanted to make her resemble nature as much as possible and I think I was more or less able to get her to look that way. Would probably wear more accesories tho, but not golden, like flowers or similar. Wears a lot of green? OF COURSE she does.

Hera:

The youngest of the girls !

Maybe due to my obsession of making her resemble Ares the most is the main reason I made her look like this, I can't imagine Ares without any warm color, so his mom has a similar hair color to him. She has freckles and as you can see, she's the one who uses more accesories. Graceful like the queen she is, but still has that inmature side she always had.

Zeus:

And here's the youngest of the boys !

He's the one who resembles Cronus the most, but the straight hair is more of Rhea than him, who had it like Demeter and Hera. A big scar between the eyes, from when Cronus tried to hurt him with his sickle. Of course, has the most noticeable beard, I've been portraying him like this since I was young and I just can't make him without it.

BONUS: Persephone !

Unlike Dionysus, she hides her horns with her hair, that is long enough to float and make it look like a veil.

She isn't as old as the other six, but is definetly older than the main gang, specially since her own son is there.

[theskywaslookingback]

[AO3]

“Why do you even have that?”

Sasha looks up from her laptop to give Jon a quizzical look. They’ve been deep in a research hole for hours now, Jon with his files spread out before him like a buffet and Sasha picking her way through line after line of code to access things that she really shouldn’t be able to access - although, the government should have better security if it didn’t want to get hacked so she tried not to feel too badly about it. Jon’s not looking at his files now though, his gaze appears to be drawn to her shoe-box sized kitchen.

“Why do I have what?” She asks, “A kitchen?”

“No, the--” He flicks his fingers in a vague gesture to the counter, and his eyebrows pull together in a fetching little wrinkle that Sasha desperately wants to smooth away with her thumb, “the absolutely massive thing you have taking up half your kitchen.”

“Oh!” Sasha says, and then starts to laugh.

The stand mixer is large, honestly, too big to store in the meagre storage space of her cabinets and taking up half the countertop next to the stove. It’s also a garish bright red, loud against the backdrop of beige walls and a white lino countertop. She wonders why on earth Jon’s bringing this up now, they’ve been working for hours now and this certainly isn’t the first time he’s visited her flat, and decides the answer to simply be that ‘it’s Jon, he’s probably just never noticed.’

He’s fully scowling at her now, in a way she knows is defensive. He probably thinks she’s making fun of him. He can be so sensitive. “Sorry,” She says when she stops laughing long enough to speak, “I think you just caught me off guard. It was cute.”

“Cute?” Jon starts to sputter, the tips of his ears darkening and his nose wrinkling.

He is cute, Sasha thinks.

She waves it off. “It was a wedding present. That’s one of the big ones, I think, for most people. First thing I added to the registry.”

Jon couldn’t look more blind-sided if he’d been hit by a lorry. He even drops his pen, staring at her with wide eyes. “You’re married?”

Sasha snorts. “Don’t be daft. Does it look like I’m living with someone?”

Jon looks around anyway like he’s looking for evidence. “Divorced?”

“Nope.” She says, popping the ‘p’ with extra emphasis and grinning at the helpless confusion radiating from her friend.

“Then--” Jon trails off. He looks at the stand mixer again, like maybe it holds the answers he’s seeking. He looks back at her, and then down at his files. Suddenly his head jerks up and he says, “Wait, have you ever even been engaged?” He says this so seriously it tugs at Sasha’s heart. His eyes narrow like he’s caught her in some kind of trap, as though that wasn’t what she was expecting.

Sasha grins. “No.”

Jon looks at her incredulously, like he’s fitting together a bunch of puzzle pieces in his mind. It’s fun. Jon is so fun. “Sasha, did you fake an engagement just to get a stand mixer?”

“Yes!” Sasha slams her laptop shut and points at Jon, “But do not tell my great aunt that, do you understand? It took me years of work to get that stand mixer, Jon!”

Jon stares at her silently for just a moment, absolutely bewildered, before he dissolves into laughter, curling in on himself and digging his fingers into his sides. It shakes his shoulders and Sasha swears there’s tears in his eyes and before she knows it she’s laughing too, hard enough it hurts her chest and blurs her vision. To an outside viewer they must look positively loony. It takes ages for them to stop and gather themselves back together. Jon takes off his glasses to wipe tears away from his eyes while Sasha rubs at her face and tries to stop the giggles that keep bubbling up when she looks at Jon.

“God,” Jon says at last, “I haven’t laughed like that in--” he clears his throat, “anyway.”

“Yes,” Sasha agrees, “anyway.”

She looks at the clock and is both shocked and completely unsurprised that it’s after midnight.

Jon must follow her gaze because she hears him utter a quiet, “good lord.”

She’s dangerously close to laughing again.

Jon starts to shuffle his files away back into their folders. “Later than I thought.” He says.

Sasha hums in agreement, putting her laptop away and sorting her notes into neat piles. “No use trying to get home this late, you might as well just stay the night.”

“Ah,” Jon’s nose does that cute wrinkle thing again, and Sasha’s lips twitch, “that’s quite alright. I’m sure I can just find a cab.”

“Could do,” Sasha agrees, “but it’d be easier if you stayed. I’ve got an extra toothbrush and everything. Plus, tomorrow is Saturday so it’s not like we have to rush back to work or anything.”

Jon’s got all his things put back in his messenger bag, a solid olive green canvas affair that Sasha privately thinks is dreadful looking. “Wouldn’t want to spoil your weekend. I’m sure you have plans.” He’s stalling, looking for a reason not to go. Sasha wishes he’d just tell her what he wants.

She smiles, because Jon isn’t easy but she knows him and she likes him anyway, “Well, I was going to put that stand mixer to work and make myself some bread. But other than that--” She shrugs.

Jon’s eyes go once more to that bright red piece of kitchen equipment. “You make your own bread?”

“Sure. It’s cheaper and it tastes better.”

Jon makes a thoughtful noise. “Well, I suppose… that is, if it’s not too much trouble.”

“Lovely,” Sasha beams, and then adds slyly, “I’ve even got some of Tim’s things you can sleep in.”

Jon goes properly red at that and buries his face in his hands with a groan.

-

Sasha busies herself with getting her ingredients together while Jon wakes up. Before they’d become friends she’d always just kind of assumed he’d be a morning person. He had that air about him at work, sharp and alert even when she was still trying to get her head on. The truth is that while Jon has difficulties getting to sleep, he would happily sleep until mid-afternoon if she let him, so she makes sure to wake him at a decent hour and then goes back to check and make sure he hasn’t fallen back asleep. Since her flat is basically a glorified closet, and Jon sleeps on the sofa, this is not a hard task to keep an eye on.

It takes a good twenty minutes before Jon comes and sits himself down at what she generously calls a kitchen table. His hair hangs in curls around his shoulders and he impatiently pushes a hand through it where it covers his face. He’s still sleepy-eyed, the sleeves of Tim’s jumper she’d let him borrow pooling around his hands.

“Good morning.” She says with amusement.

He grunts, flopping into a rickety chair. “Coffee?” He asks.

“All out. Tea alright?”

He nods.

“Great. Kettle is over there.” She gestures vaguely to the area next to the fridge, “Tea is top cabinet.”

Jon sighs, like it’s a great effort for him to make his own tea, but offers no further complaint as he retrieves the kettle and fills it with water.

With Jon out of the way Sasha appropriates the table for more space to set out her scale and bowls. She won’t need anything too fancy today so it doesn’t take long to get set up. She hears the kettle and turns around just in time to see Jon half-way climbing onto the counter. “Jon!” She scolds, similar to the way she would her cat when she was a child.

He freezes and gives her a sheepish grin. “You said top cabinet.”

She did, and she hadn’t thought about the almost foot of height she had on Jon. She snorts and waves him down. “Grab the mugs, I’ll get the tea then.”

He grumbles something about doing it himself but obliges, plucking two mugs from the drying rack.

“Green tea alright?”

Jon makes a dismissive noise. “Black?”

“Out.”

“I’m taking you shopping after this, Sasha James, this is downright unacceptable.”

“Yeah, sure.”

She hands him the box of tea bags and he rolls his eyes at her, muttering as he fills their mugs with water.

“Do you at least have milk?”

“Yes.”

“Thank god.”

Sasha rolls her eyes and gets back to her scale, weighing out her dry ingredients.

“Why are you doing it like that?”

“By weight?”

Jon hums.

“It’s more accurate by weight than by volume, typically.”

“You can’t just, I don’t know, eye-ball it?”

“Jonathan Sims have you ever baked anything in your entire life?”

She takes the jerky shrug he gives in response as a no. She shakes her head and dumps her flour and yeast into the mixing bowl of her stand mixer. Jon hovers there at her shoulder, watching, so close she can almost feel his breath.

It gives her a wicked idea.

She reaches a hand up, like she’s checking something, and then flicks the mixer on high.

Flour explodes from the mixing bowl in a cloud of white, covering her and Jon and the countertop.

The little shriek Jon gives will stay with her for a very long time.

“Why?” He asks, mouth agape and positively covered in flour.

“Because I knew it would be funny.” Sasha says, laughing. There’s flour in her hair, and she’ll definitely need to wash her clothes, but the look in Jon’s wide eyes and the slowly blooming smile on his face is worth it.

It takes less time than she thinks to get everything clean again, and the second time she even allows Jon to help her measure ingredients and start the mixer. He’s very serious about the whole thing, watching the scale with a grim kind of determination like it would mean death if he added just a bit too much yeast to the dough, but it’s the most fun Sasha’s had in forever. By the end of the day she has enough bread to wrap a loaf up for Jon to take home, and he looks at her like she’s just given him the greatest gift he’s ever received.

“Same time next week?” She asks as she wraps his scarf around his neck.

“I suppose.” He says, ducking his head to avoid the kiss she tries to plant on his cheek. “If you’re amenable.”

“I’m amenable.” She says, and kisses the top of his head anyway.

Sasha watches him leave and Jon turns back at the end of the hallway to wave, before disappearing into the stairwell. She laughs, bright and happy, and closes the door.

[dreaming-about-fanfictions]

Choose Me Instead II Draco Malfoy x Reader II Chapter 11 of 27: Desperation

Summary: Pretending to be in a relationship with Draco Malfoy to get back at your ex might have not been the smartest idea you ever had. Especially during your last year of Hogwarts where you should be focusing on exams and your future plans. However, you were just pretending. There was no way in hell you could actually catch feelings for someone like Malfoy. … Right?

CHAPTER 10 CHOOSE ME INSTEAD - MASTERLIST

A/N: Dumblr had some issues with the tagging system and a lot of people didn’t get tagged for some reason. I hope it works today though! Once again: THANK YOU FOR ALL THE AMAZING SUPPORT! OMFG I LOVE YOU ALL TO DEATH! Seriously, ilysm! I’m so happy you like my story <33 Also have fun with some ANGST ^^

Words: 5.8k Pairing: Draco Malfoy x fem!Reader, post war Warnings: blood, description of wounds, mentions of suicide, panic attacks, anxiety, a lot of angst my loves

“Draco?”

It was nothing more than a whisper. You stood frozen in place, staring at the bathroom door. Your heart was beating so hard in your chest that you were scared it would jump out any second now. Every breath that left your lungs trembled, showing the panic you tried to swallow down so badly. It was an eerie feeling – standing here in their empty room. The water of the Black Lake illuminated the room in a soft green light. You blinked and wondered if the shadow behind the glass had been just a figment of your imagination.

You cleared your throat. “Draco?”

Five large steps and you crossed the room. “Draco, it’s me,” you tried to sound as calm and collected as you possibly could and you were glad he couldn’t see the way, you started to pick at your thumb. It would start to bleed soon, you were sure. You turned the doorknob but Zabini and Nott had been right. Draco had locked himself in.

There was no response from inside. He had gone silent. When you pressed the air against the wooden door, you could still hear suppressed whimpers. Your heart began to race again. Something was wrong, so very wrong.

„Draco, let me in, please,” you said a little louder and a little more panicked. “I can help you, just let me in!”

“No!”

You flinched at his sudden reaction.

“No, y-you can’t … you can’t h-help m-me.” The way his voice broke at the end of the sentence made it feel like he stabbed you with sharp knife. You swallowed, fighting the tears that began to dwell up. He needed your help now. You needed to be strong for him now, there was no point in him seeing you cry. This wasn’t about you.

“I’m coming in,” you announced and pulled out your wand. He made weak sounds of protest but you ignored them. Three deep breaths, you thought to yourself. Then I’m going in.

One … Two … Three.

“Alohomora.” There was a click and door slowly opened, accompanied by a high-pitched creaking noise.

You gasped when you took in the scene that unfolded in front of you. The bathroom was a mess. It looked a potions experiment gone wrong. Containers filled with liquids and other ingredients were scattered all over the wet floor. Pieces of broken glass filled the sink and a pungent smell that burned in your lungs hit you when you stepped in.

Draco Malfoy, the sarcastic Slytherin who never shied away from a confrontation and always had a witty comeback ready, sat on the floor and looked like a picture of misery. He leaned against the tub, legs stretched out and his left wrist pressed tightly against his chest. His white shirt was wet with water and …

You shrieked and put a hand over your mouth when you realized that it was blood that gave his shirt a light red color, running down his wrist and dropping from his elbow onto the dark tiles. Draco lifted his head, his eyes meeting yours for the first time since you walked in. His face was red, his eyes swollen and puffy from crying. His body was still shaking, trembling sobs he desperately tried to suppress were echoing through the small room.

It was the look in his eyes that made you drop to the floor on your knees. So full of pain and heartbreak. A sadness he shouldn’t be able to feel at his young age that made you lose the ground below your feet. “Oh god, Draco, oh god,” you whispered. You reached for the wrist he was still pressing up against his chest. “What did you do? Oh god, oh –”

Tears began to stream down his face again and sobs shook his body. He mumbled something you couldn’t understand but tried to turn and get away from your touch. Your heart was beating in your throat now and you quickly examined the situation. There wasn’t much blood so you guessed he didn’t … you couldn’t even finish that sentence in your head. Nonetheless, you reached for a towel behind you.

“Let me see, please,” your voice was heavy with worry and fear. “I want to help you. I need to see what happened.”

“No,” he croaked, staring at the ground. “No, p-please leave, Y/N…”

You shook your head vehemently. “No, I won’t go. I won’t leave you here, you’re obviously hurt and –”

“I don’t … I don’t w-want you to s-see me like this,” he spoke so softly, you could barely understand him. “So … so w-weak …”

A single tear ran down your cheek and you quickly wiped it away before he could see it. Then you reached for his face with your right hand. “Draco, you’re not weak,” you could feel him leaning into your touch, “but you have to let me help you now!”

His breathing was ragged. Draco didn’t reply.

“There is no shame in asking for help. Let me be there you,” you urged him, putting your other hand on his wrist. There was no force in your gesture; you simply let it rest there.

It felt like an eternity. You kneeled on the floor, water soaking through the thin fabric of your uniform. You’d probably start to feel cold if there wasn’t so much adrenaline pumping through your veins.

“I wanted to make it go away.”

It was more of a whimper than anything else. A simple sentence that beared so much pain. However, you didn’t know what it meant.

“What?”, you tilted your head in confusion.

“It“, he spat out. You moved in a little closer. “I can’t stand to look at it anymore. I am so … I am so disgusting … I …”, he sniffled. “I don’t want to see it anymore … it’s always there … I tried everything …”

In this moment, the scales fell from your eyes. Your gaze dropped down to his arm underneath your hand – his left arm. You had never seen him without long sleeves that covered both his arms. Up to now, there had never been a reason for it. It was winter by now and always a little chilly in the castle. Now you realized that there was a second reason why he wouldn’t show the skin of precisely this arm.

„Draco…” You didn’t know what you were going to say. What was there to say? What could you possibly do to ease his suffering?

„I just wanted it to go away …”, he continued, staring on the black tiles. “When Pansy …”

Your eyes widened at the confession. Parkinson messed up her potion this morning and Slughorn explained what it would do to the human skin. You remembered how his voice sounded when he asked what Pansy did wrong.

Oh no.

“You …?”

His head snapped towards you at your unspoken accusation and he looked at you with a clenched jaw.

“Oh Merlin,” you uttered in complete disbelief.

“Don’t pity me!”, he snapped. It reminded you of his old self. Scenes of him insulting Harry in the Great Hall flashed in front of your eyes.

“I don’t, Draco”, you tried to sound as comforting as you could. “I don‘t, believe me. But I see that you’re in pain. And you’re bleeding.” Tightening your grip on his wrist, you gave him a serious look.

His lips began to quiver again, his breathing becoming heavier.

“May I …?”, you asked. “I just want to stop the bleeding.”

Finally, he relaxed slightly and let you take his wrist. You grab it carefully, making sure not to hurt him, and turned it so you could see the damage.

His arm was decorated with a gaping wound, full of blisters and blood that oozed from them. It looked like a someone tried to scrape the skin off with a dull knife before putting it on a hot stove. Beneath it, a part of the Dark Mark was still untouched and visible; the black stood in sharp contrast with his pale skin and the sight of the skull made your blood freeze.

What happened next was something that you would scold yourself for the next days to come: you gagged and almost let go of his arm.

Draco felt it, of course he did, and another sob escaped him. He tried to pull his arm back but you tightened your grip, not allowing him do so. Apologies tumbled over your lips and you quickly grabbed the towel. Before you started to wrap it around the wound, you mumbled a few spells, trying to help him at least a little. Nothing worked. You had to bring him to Madame Pomfrey. He needed a professional healer not a student with mediocre magical capabilities. You made sure that the towel was wrapped his arm tightly to stop the bleeding. Draco flinched and drew breath through his teeth. More apologies from you followed, a stumbling mess. You were overwhelmed with the situation, nothing could have prepared you for this.

„It hurts so much …”, he croaked when you put his arm back in his initial position – pressed against his chest.

„I know, I’m sorry,” you said full of remorse. “We will bring you to Madame Pomfrey and she will give you something for the pain.”

He sighed and shook his head. “That’s not what I meant…”

You looked up at his words. “What do you mean, Draco?”

He needed a moment to answer. You didn’t push him, you just rested one hand on his thigh, stroking it softly. You weren’t sure if you did it to calm him or yourself.

“Everything,” he closed his eyes. “Being here. Getting up in the morning. Going to sleep in the evening.”

You let out a deep breath, not liking the direction this conversation was going. Not liking it all. „What?”, your voice only trembled a little.

„I keep thinking about it …”, his eyes were still closed. “It hardly ever leaves my mind …”

“About what?”, you wanted to know with a more pressing undertone now.

Draco finally opened his eyes. He looked so tired, so exhausted. „About what I did,” he finally explained. “What my parents did. About my life … I’m wrong…”

You furrowed your brows. “What makes you say that?”

He chuckled; it was a bitter, sad laugh. “Don’t play pretend, you know what I mean … You’re not wrong. You’re right. Everything about you is right. Everything about me is wrong. Everything I learned, everything I believed in …” He trailed off.

Oh. Now you understood what he tried to say. Something you had guessed all along, from the day you met. It explained his changes and his odd behavior. It was what draw you in at the beginning of the school year, fascinating you from afar. Seeing it unfolding in front of you was terrifying though.

You reached for his healthy hand and squeezed it softly. “You’re not wrong.”

A tear ran down his cheek. You suppressed the urge to wipe it away. “But I am, I –”

“No”, you interrupted him harshly. “You’re not wrong, Draco. Listen to me, please!” Putting a hand to his face, you forced him to look at you. “You were a child and you didn’t have a choice! The mistakes of your parents don’t define you.”

He smiled sadly. “Easy to say for someone with picture perfect parents.”

“My parents raised a Death Eater,” you scoffed. The sentence stung. You had never said it out loud. Yet it was the only thing that came to your mind in this moment. When you continued speaking, your voice grew softer: “Your parents raised a spoilt child, yes, but they didn’t raise a Death Eater. The past weeks with you … I saw you! Your efforts to change, to do better … it’s not too late. You recognized what went wrong and you want to learn and be a better man and Draco, that is worth so much.”

His body had begun to shake again, tears dwelling up in his puffy eyes. “I just want the pain to stop …”

“I know,” you sighed and pulled him into a hug. He didn’t resist. “I know, I’m so sorry, I wish I could –”

“Please make it stop,” he nuzzled his face in the crook of your neck. You felt his hot breath against your skin as he sobbed quietly.

“I’m so sorry,” you mumbled and stroked over his back. “I wish I could but –”

Suddenly, something happened. You didn’t know how it happened, but it did. Draco sat back, freeing himself from the hug and then … he kissed you.

It was a rough kiss, full of despair and a passion only found in situations like these. He grabbed you by your neck, pulling you close. His lips were soft and tasted salty from his tears as he moved them against yours. There was nothing sweet about this – he wanted to forget, turn off the pain and drown out the fear by feeling you – by being close to you.

It took you a few seconds to realize what was going on. You placed your hands on his chest, breaking the kiss and pushing him away. “Draco, no …”, you stared at him in shock.

He reached out for you again, tears streaming down his face. A shiver ran down your spine when you saw his desperation. “Please,” he whispered. “Please, you can fix me…” He sobbed and leaned against you. Wrapping your arms around him, you wanted to scream. You didn’t know what to do, you weren’t prepared for this, you couldn’t help him.

“The only time I feel alive is when I’m with you, Y/N, the only time I feel like I’m alright is when I’m with you,” he muttered against the fabric of your uniform. “Please, fix me …”

You were crying now as well, completely overwhelmed. “No,”, you whispered, “No, I can’t fix you. I’m sorry, I can’t fix you …”

“Please …”

“I can be here for you, I will be here for you,” the panic didn’t leave your voice. “I can’t fix you, Draco, I don’t know how … I shouldn’t be…”

You weren’t sure for how long you sat in the bathroom with Draco. Minutes? Hours? All you knew in this moment was his trembling body against yours, his pleas for someone – for you – to help him and the fear in your system that made you stammer the same sentences over and over again.

Suddenly there was a hand on your shoulder. Theodor Nott knelt beside you, saying something you didn’t understand. Then Zabini appeared behind him. He reached for Draco, pulling him up on his feet. Nott helped you, putting one arm around your waist. Together you made your way to the hospital wing.

 ***

It was early in the morning when Draco woke up.

Upon reaching the hospital wing, Madame Pomfrey had ordered the boys to put Draco down in the nearest bed, attending to him right away. She whirled around, asking you all sorts of questions to which mostly Nott answered, before grabbing potions and weird smelling herbs and getting to work.

Nott got a chair for you to sit down next to Dracos bed. Then he and Zabini got sent out. When Madame Pomfrey was done treating his arm, she turned her attention towards you and handed you a funny looking liquid to drink.

“To calm your nerves, honey,” she had said and insisted that you finished it. It tasted disgusting. Yet, whatever it was, it seemed to help. You slowly began to feel better and at some point, you let the exhaustion take over and drifted off to sleep.

It wasn’t until Draco woke up that you did too. Something had startled you. Blinking and yawning, you sat back up in your chair. Your limbs and neck hurt from the uncomfortable position you had been in for the last few hours.

Looking at his bed, you saw Draco laying on his back, his eyes fixated on the ceiling, an empty expression on his face.

“Hey,” you whispered and leaned over to hold his hand. He didn’t react.

“How are you feeling?”, you asked, looking at the bandage around his arm.

Draco turned his head towards you. “Better, I guess,” his voice was still hoarse. “I don’t feel so …”

You chuckled. “Yeah, she gave me the same thing.”

A sad smile appeared on his lips. He looked at you for a while, an unreadable expression in his eyes. “I’m so … sorry,” he cleared his throat. “I’m so sorry, Y/N.”

You shook your head. “Don’t be. You have nothing to be sorry about.”

“Yes, I do,” he replied. “I was a mess and –”

“That’s okay,” you tried to comfort him. “Happens to the best of us.”

“Having breakdowns about being a Death Eater?”, he frowned.

You snorted. “Maybe that’s only a thing for former Death Eaters, I admit that.”

The corners of his lips twitched but he didn’t smile. “I’m sorry about the kiss though.”

A sigh escaped your lips at the memory. Yeah. That happened. You almost forgot. „It’s fine. Pain leads us to do stupid things.“

“You’re not mad?“, he asked.

Again, you shook your head. “Of course not.”

Relieved, Draco let out a deep breath and turned his head to look back up at the ceiling. “We probably pretended for too long, I have to remind myself that we’re not actually dating.”

The confession took you by surprise. You frowned as you looked at him. He didn’t say anything else though and so you stayed there together in silence, holding hands. Outside, the sun started to rise, golden rays of sunlight flowing into the dark room. Classes would probably start soon. You were still wearing your Quidditch uniform and you crinkled your nose in disgust at the realization. You desperately needed a shower and a new set of clothes.

After a while, his eyelids began to flutter. With a smile, you watched Draco fall asleep.

You made sure Draco was actually sleeping before you let go of his hand and got up. Your whole body felt stiff and you cracked your neck. Then you walked over to Madame Pomfreys office. There was something that still needed to be done.

“Good morning,” the healer greeted you with a warm smile when you stepped inside. “How are you feeling, dear?”

“Better,” you replied. “Tired mostly.”

“That’s good,” she said. “I imagine it was quite a shock for you last night. Make sure to take a nap after classes.”

“I will.”

She smiled again before turning her attention back towards the book on your table. You hesitated, not knowing how to address it. When Madame Pomfrey noticed you weren’t leaving, she looked at you with worry. “Is there something else, dear?”

You sighed and rubbed over your neck. “Yes, actually,” you paused briefly. “It’s about Draco.”

She closed the book and leaned back in her chair. “What about Mr. Malfoy? Does he need something?”

You nodded. “Yes. A therapist.“

Madame Pomfrey raised her eyebrows, her mouth forming a quiet “oh”. This was the first time in her career as a healer that someone asked for that.

“I know, it’s not really a thing in the Wizarding World,” you continued quickly, scared she would interrupt you and send you outside. “It’s more common with the muggles but I read about it and I think it’s a good thing.”

“You believe, Mr. Malfoy needs a therapist?”, she asked slowly and folded her hands on the table. “You believe, I can’t help him?”

“No, that’s not what I said,” you defended yourself. “I believe you’re excellent at what you do but some wounds … some wounds can’t be treated with potions and herbs, Madame Pomfrey.”

The healer thought for a while. For so long in fact, you began to start feeling increasingly nervous, shifting uncomfortably. It wasn’t the first time you thought about bringing it up with her. Draco wasn’t the only who suffered, after all. The thought began to grow when you saw how your mother started grow colder. When you had to wake Ginny up from yet another nightmare and when McGonagall shouted at you to leave after a student had a panic attack in the hallways. There was no help for them. And sleeping medicine could only get you so far. What happened to Draco last night was only the last straw for you.

Madame Pomfrey sighed. When she looked back up, she seemed to have aged rapidly. “It’s sad, really, that poor boy …,” her gaze trailed off to the hospital wings behind you. “All those students ...”

“I believe a lot of the students could benefit from a professional to help them deal with everything that happened,” you added, looking expectantly at her.

Finally, she nodded. “Alright, let me see what I can do.”

A feeling of relief overcame you. “Thank you, Madame Pomfrey! Thank you!”

 ***

On the way to the common room, you were met with a lot of confused looks from your classmates. What it must have looked like for then – you in a dirty, bloody Quidditch uniform at seven in the morning, tired and exhausted like you spent the night outside. You were sure that rumors would spread like wildfire once Draco didn’t turn up for classes and someone mentioned how they saw you this morning. It was nothing you cared about though. Not right now.

“Miss Y/L/N?”

The voice of Professor Slughorn made you turn around in the hallway. The old man walked towards you with a quick step. Judging by the expression on his face, he had already heard what happened to Draco.

“Miss Y/L/N,” he lowered his voice when he reached you and saw the curious looks of some students around.

“Good morning, Professor,” you greeted him with half a smile.

“I heard about what happened to Mr. Malfoy last night, I hope you are alright?”

You nodded at his question.

“Good, good,” he continued. “I didn’t want to bother him but I know you and Mr. Malfoy have become rather close during those past weeks.”

When you noticed that he waited for some sort of approval, you nodded again. You didn’t understand where he was going with this.

“Just let him know that … his actions have no further consequences. I believe what happened is punishment enough.”

The statement made you take a step back. You furrowed your brows, as you stared at him. “Excuse me?”

“Oh,” Professor Slughorn cleared his throat. “He stole from my potions. But it will have no further consequences. I wanted to make that clear. Maybe you could tell him.”

“Right,” you scoffed. “Good for Draco.”

Slughorn looked at you for a moment as if he waited for you to thank him. You couldn’t believe him – his student, whose history he was well aware of, hurt himself in a mental breakdown and Slughorn expected you to be grateful for not punishing him for it? By Merlin, that’s why you needed a therapist in this damn school.

“Miss Y/L/N,” he then said. “Mr. Malfoy made some questionable choices in his past. He now needs to learn how to deal with it. He can’t hide behind his trauma forever and use it as an excuse for his behavior.”

You gritted your teeth. What was the punishment for punching a teacher in the face?

“Have a good day, Professor.”

 ***

Three Days later ...

Draco was released from the hospital wing on the same morning but was excused from school for the rest of the week. As you had suspected, rumors began to spread quickly.

“He tried to kill himself,” a student from Ravenclaw announced loudly during lunch at one point.

“I heard, he overdosed on some muggle drug,” a Hufflepuff said to his friends in the hallway. “You know how Slytherins are …”

“Maybe it was a fight between Y/L/N and Malfoy. He probably tried to hurt her or something, the whole relationship is doomed to fail. It’s Malfoy for Merlin’s sake …”

It was in this moment that you decided to hex everyone who had something to say about Draco.

Your friends peppered you with questions. Ginny was particularly curious about where you spent the night but you stayed silent, trying to appease her with vague explanations about an accident that sent Draco into the Hospital wing. Whether she believed it or not – she stopped asking after a while. It was really none of her business, you felt. Draco wouldn’t want her to know. It was bad enough that Zabini and Nott knew. From what you could tell, they kept quiet though.

You didn’t see Draco for three days after you left the hospital wing that morning. After classes when you wanted to visit him, he was already gone. He didn’t show up to meals. But you noticed how Astoria always took a full plate of food with her. It bothered you. It left an ugly feeling behind whenever you saw her leaving the table like that. She shouldn’t be the one taking care of him. She hadn’t been there. You had. In fact, you were his girlfriend …

Fake girlfriend, you corrected yourself.

At night, you barely got any sleep. You stared at the ceiling in the darkness for hours, thinking about that evening in the Slytherin bathroom. Feelings of worry alternated with the frustration that he put you in the situation. But were you really frustrated with him? Or were you upset at yourself, at how much it shook you to the core?

Why?, you kept asking yourself. Why do I care so much? How did I end up here?

He was a friend, a dear friend, and you’d do anything for your friends. A lot of them had gone through hard times as well and you were always there for them. But this? It felt different. Not once, even when they were at their lowest, did you feel this scared. So helpless and angry at yourself that you couldn’t do anything.

Fix me.

The words had stayed with you. Together with the pain when they were spoken. You couldn’t. The only thing you could do was be there for him when he fixed himself – and shockingly, you wanted to do exactly that. In fact, you wanted to do more than that. You wanted to be the one that brings him his food when he’s feeling too weak to go to meals and you wanted to hug him and tell him over and over again that nothing about him was wrong. That he could change and he could get through this. He was strong enough. You knew it.

Is this what friendship is supposed to feel like?

 ***

You sat in the Room of Requirements when he walked in.

It was the same room you had been in two weeks ago when you looked for Christmas presents. A small fire crackled in the fireplace and you sat on the couch with a warm blanket and your favorite book.

“Hi,” Draco said simply.

Surprised, you looked up from your book. You hadn’t expected him to come here. “How did you find me?”, you asked.

Draco gave a half shrug. “You weren’t in the library and your friends said, you wanted to be alone for a while. So I figured.”

He looked a lot better than three days ago. He wore his usual black suit again and his hair was flawless. Not a single strand was out of place. But the exhaustion was still visible on him and his posture seemed a little too stiff as stood in the doorway.

“Who did you ask?”, you wanted to know. Scooting over, you gestured him to take a seat next to you.

“Granger.”

A low chuckle escaped your lips.

“And yes,” he continued as he sat down. “It was just as awkward as you imagine it right now.”

You snorted. “Well, I appreciate the effort.”

There was an uncomfortable silence. You didn’t know what to say. Hey, remember when you had that panic attack and hid from me for three days? Yeah. Probably not. Besides, you couldn’t be mad that he wanted to be alone. You didn’t blame him for it. It was understandable and you weren’t entitled to his attention. However, it still hurt.

“I have to apologize again”, he began.

With a sigh, you put the book on the small coffee table in front of the sofa. “You already did that,” you said. “It’s okay.”

Draco rubbed over his neck. He didn’t apologize very often apparently, judging by his discomfort. “No, for … the past days.”

A smile appeared on your lips. “It’s fine. You had … people in your house who took care of you.”

Draco shot you a glance, knowing well what you were referring to. “I didn’t want her to.”

You immediately felt dumb and insensitive. Merlin, why would you say this to him. “Draco…no,” you groaned. “No, this wasn’t what I meant. I feel stupid, urgh.”

“I –”, he started but you cut him off.

“Do not apologize. You’re going through a hard time. Obviously,” you shook your head. Then your voice became a little softer: “I understand that and I just want you to become better. I can’t believe I somehow made that about me, I’m sorry.”

He smiled at you. “Don’t be. It’s confusing for all of us.”

You nodded and leaned back against the couch. A few days ago, you would’ve touched him in some little way. Now there was a distance between you. It made you wonder if what happened changed the dynamic between the two of you. “So, how are you?”, you broke the silence.

He shrugged again and looked into the fire. “How are you?”

“I’m okay. I was worried about you.”

“I’m supposed to see a therapist now.”

A rush of happiness made your eyes lit up at his sentence. “Yeah … that was my idea.”

“Really?”, he turned to and a small smirk played around the corners of his lips. You were so relieved to see it. “Well, sounds like you.”

You chuckled. “Did you already see them?”

He shook his head. “Tomorrow. It wasn’t easy to find one. It’s not that common in our world.”

Even though he was right, you were surprised by how fast McGonagall and Madame Pomfrey started looking for one. Maybe they finally realized how important it was for the students to actually deal with their traumas and not just take sleeping potions.

“Well, I’m glad,” you announced.

“Let’s see how it goes. Father used to make fun of them a lot,” his eyes flickered to fire again and his voice changed as he remembered. “He said it was one of the reasons why the muggles are so weak. They can’t even deal with their own life.”

What a load of bullshit, you thought and wondered if his mother shared those opinions. She must have. How else would a woman survive a marriage with a man like that. You stayed silent though.

Draco looked at you again. “Thank you.”

You tilted your head in confusion. “For what?”

“Being there,” he explained. “You didn’t have to.”

“I’m your girlfriend, aren’t I?”, you joked.

“I mean …  not really though,” he smirked again. There it was – that little stinging near your heart. You ignored it.

“True,” you replied. “Still, you’re my friend.”

Draco nodded. He leaned back against the sofa and by the way he stretched out his leg, you could tell he was starting to feel more relaxed now. “What I said to you … what I want you to do …”, he cleared his throat while fidgeting with the hem of the blanket. “I overreacted. I … don’t expect you to …”

He had trailed off but you knew what he was trying to say. “I’m happy to hear that,” you admitted softly. Then you reached for his hand. “I will be here and support you for as long as you let me, Draco. Please know that.”

Draco looked at your entangled hands and then back at you. “Thank you.” His eyes met yours and for some reason, you couldn’t look away. You were mesmerized by them and they reminded you of a storm in the middle of November while …

“Well,” you loudly announced and broke the eye contact. “It’s getting too fluffy in here.”

Draco laughed softly. It was a low sound that resonated within you.

“Can I see it?”, you suddenly asked before you could think about it.

He furrowed his brows. “What do you mean?”

“The wound,” you pointed at his arm. “Or is it still bandaged?”

“No, but … she managed to heal it,” he nervously licked over his lips. “There are no … residues.”

“What about the mark?” It was probably too straightforward. But you didn’t care as you had already seen it once now in a worse situation.

“Still there,” his gaze lingered on his arm as if he saw right through the black jacket. “Didn’t work, I suppose.”

“Can I see it?”

Draco’s head snapped in your direction. “Y/N …”

You just looked at him calmly. His eyes darted back and forth between his arm and you and you practically saw how he thought about all the options he had right now. Did he trust you enough for this? If not, why didn’t he after he allowed you to see him in his most vulnerable moment?

With a sigh, he suddenly got up and out of his jacket. He threw it on the armchair, before he began to roll up his sleeve and sat back down, holding the arm your direction. You leaned forward.

There it was. A huge, black memory of a life that was no longer his. The constant reminder of the pain and suffering that followed the Mark wherever it was seen. It stood in sharp contrast to his skin, just as you remembered. Now, however, you were able to see the whole thing. The wound was almost completely gone, only a little redness remained. You wondered how it must have felt when they burned it on his skin.

Without thinking about it, you raised a hand and touched it. Draco shuddered and his arm twitched. You looked up at him, wondering if it hurt. It didn’t seem that way. At least not physically. His eyes were fixated on the pillow and you noticed the way he clenched his jaw. Turning your attention back on the mark, you began to trace the outlines of it with your finger.

„I always thought it would feel … different,” you mumbled. Then you looked up at him again. You saw how he tried to blink away tears and once again, your heart broke. “We’ll be okay, Draco.”

“I know,” he whispered. “I know.”

***

A/N: Thank you for reading! <3 What do you think about it? I’d love to hear your thoughts on this chapter, my loves <33

CHAPTER 12

Choose Me Instead Masterlist HP Masterlist

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If you want to be added to my tag list, let me know <3

[unicronian]

a bunch of powers/hybrid smp character design hcs based around their powers in the mod:

(small warning for slight body horror in tubbo and wilbur’s sections, and horror themes in wilbur’s section)

this got long so here’s a snapshot of my fav bits above the read more:

tubbo can open his stomach up like a shulker, and just reach in there and put stuff in and get it out again

wilbur’s physical appearance is dependent on how well rested the person looking at him is

tommy glides by t-posing because his arms are his wings

ranboo can open unhinge his jaw and open his mouth like an enderman, and he has like an extra layer of mouth skin like a snake that you can only see when his mouth is unhinged

Phil hates places with low ceilings cause his wings are super long and he can’t stretch them out

Niki’s got gills on her neck to help filter water, so when she wants to talk to people above water she has to stick just her head out of the water and leave her neck beneath it

You know su!peridot’s augments she had at her intro, jack can like do that with his clawed fingers. Just like detach them at will and control them but they can’t go very far from him so it isnt very useful

Shulk!Tubbo:

tubbo has pretty thick skin with a slightly sickly pallor even though he’s perfectly healthy

he also has a carapace that’s similar in color and texture to a shulker’s shell covering the parts of his body that don’t bend(arms, legs, top of his head, upper chest) he can use these to block sword blows but if the sword is sharp enough it’ll stick cut into his skin

the carapace itself doesnt bleed, but it does heal and tubbo feels pain if it gets cut

like a lobster or turtle the carapace is a part of tubbo’s skin and can’t be removed(without extreme pain)

his hands are also reinforced by his carapace, giving him sharp claws at the tips of his fingers, and this is why he can punch through stone easily and without breaking his hand

he’s also pretty heavy underneath this extra armor and as a result he’s got a lot of intense muscle mass

tubbo can open his stomach up like a shulker, and just reach in there and put stuff in and get it out again, but it has limited storage

it kind of makes his stomach look like a shulker, with interlocking squares

the stuff inside his stomach exists in a type of hammerspace(we’ll just call it shulkerspace) so if you were to cut him open the stuff wouldnt be there

you do NOT want to stick your hand into tubbo’s shulkerspace, he can do it with no ill effects but if someone else did they might as well wave goodbye to that hand even if tubbo doesnt close his shulker mouth on your hand

Phantom!Wilbur:

wilbur can do like... ghost things like turning invisible and walking through walls in phantom state

particularly astute(or anxious) people can sense when wilbur’s nearby in phantom state, but not accurately guess where he is

wilbur oftentimes goes in and out of phantom state without even realizing it, sometimes just vanishing in the middle of the conversation because he let his mind wander

he also burns in the daylight which is sadge but not when in phantom state so he sometimes goes into the phantom state on reflex when entering a very bright room

wilbur can sense how tired people are, and if they are tired enough to summon phantoms wilbur can sense whose insomnia the phantoms are targeting on sight

wilbur looks like how you’d expect a ghost to look: see through, human, or at least... that’s what he looks like when you wake up in the morning

his physical appearance is dependent on how well rested the person looking at him is, but he is always corporeal when out of the phantom state

by nighttime, when you’re getting ready for bed wilbur’s eyes are green and if you look closely they glow in the dark, and if you look closer a skeleton makes itself clear beneath wilbur’s skin. it is not a human skeleton

by morning the next day without sleep transparent membrane stretches between wilbur’s claws and you can clearly see the skeleton. fangs protrude from its mouth and its rib cage stretches grotesquely outwards with every breath wilbur takes

by the second night wilbur’s transparent skin is blue and phantom membrane has escaped the confines of his hand and run down the length of his arm, extra bones begin to grow from the skeleton to accommodate the growing wing. it is harder to see through him.

by dawn of the third morning you can see a tail, more bone than blue, leathery skin, lashing behind wilbur, it seems to always whip itself in your direction. it stings when it touches you, but not for long. his frayed wings are fully formed.

night falls and wilbur’s glowing green eyes are sunken in, practically floating in black eye sockets. his skin looks vacuum sealed, giving you a perfect map of the meatless bones inside. he is entirely opaque, you cannot see through him but his stark white skeleton, expanding, stretching, and clawing at you, is clearly visible

you sleep, and wilbur looks human once again

this version of wilbur doesn’t only exist in the minds of the sleep deprived. if you let him stay in the edges of your vision too long, no matter how rested you are, you can see this form

by the time you focus your vision on him wilbur will be back to his normal state. you can’t see what your brain desperately tries to refuse. it is only when your mental walls have been broken down that you can witness wilbur’s form. for better or for worse.

Avian!Tommy:

instead of having an extra set of limbs like phil tommy’s wings and arms are the same limbs, like a harpy(and like wilbur)

where the wing’s wrist is(essentially where it bends, if you’re unfamiliar with bird anatomy) Tommy has some extra human-like clawed fingers that he uses as hands

tommy isnt strong enough to fly with them, even if he is very light thanks to hollow bones. he can glide, though

yes, this does mean that tommy glides by t-posing

tommy also has talons for feet, which sort of assist him in being slightly faster than everyone

his feathers are the same colors as a red parrot’s, and he keeps them very well maintained so they keep their lustrous color

he’s also got a lot of feathers dotting his body, like around his ears and stomach and they protect him from the cold in the high up areas he likes sleeping in

ok i dont really have anything to say abt his veganism he’s just Like That because parrot(cause god knows chickens are omnivores)

he has a beak that he uses for nuts and seeds and he can make bird noises!

And he’s got a small feathery tail that isnt useful for much but does look cool

Even though he can’t fly Tommy does have a third eyelid like a bird, it goes side to side and is transparent, he mostly just uses it while gliding or swimming

Enderian!Ranboo

Very tall boy with very long arms

Honestly very similar to dsmp!ranboo

Water burns him like acid and leaves behind very distinctive burn scars but he heals pretty easily from water burns

He is Constantly bamboozled by people wearing pumpkins and he’s Not a fan

Ranboo can open unhinge his jaw and open his mouth like an enderman, and he has like an extra layer of mouth skin like a snake that you can only see when his mouth is unhinged

He’ll avoid eye contact at all cost because it agitates him and gets him unreasonably angry at whoever he’s talking to, the others have gotten very good at avoiding eye contact with him, though

Teleporting is a lot of fun to him and he’ll sometimes just teleport around just for the sake of it, because he can sense the change in location when teleporting in a way humans with ender pearls cant

Enderians are the results of people trying to fuse together with end-based magic and so all of them have the half and half texture of their skin, but most of them all have the same powers

Speaking of skin, Ranboo’s ender skin is strangely smooth and he doesn’t have a protruding nose, just slits in his face he smells through

He also doesn’t have any body hair at all, but his long ears generally distract from that

Elytrian!Phil

Phil is an incredibly light person, compared to a human he’d be dangerously underweight

He’s essentially skin, hollow bones, and elytra because if he was anything else he wouldn’t be able to fly especially with armor on

However this and his hollow bones means he’s pretty weak in all areas, especially underground

Thanks to his Brain he gets slow and weak under low ceilings and also sadge

Aside from the kind of unearthly tint to his skin Phil looks pretty human, aside from the elytra of course

He’s got insect wings protected by an elytra. So, elytra on beetles and things are kind of like a half circle protecting the wings and pressing them to the body of the beetle, and this works because beetles are wing shaped- phil is not

So, phil has very unique elytra that completely encase his wings, and the top part moves out of the way to let his wings fold out so they’re like twice his height- and that partially adds to his dislike of low ceilings, he can barely stretch his wings

Phil’s got fragile beetle wings so they look pretty fragile but they can withstand a beating and carry Phil a ways(though it’s partially phil’s innate magic that lets him shoot into the sky)

Phil has a transparent third eyelid just like Tommy

And, he has antennae that he uses to feel the wind while flying

Merling!Niki

Niki essentially has two types of skin: a human-looking thick layer of skin that covers the upper portion of her body and an even thicker scale-like layer that covers the lower half

Her human-like skin is very rough and it doesn’t absorb water like human skin does, the scales are smooth but also don’t absorb water

She has two legs and a long, thick tail she uses to propel herself through the water, the tail is entirely covered in her blue scales

Her hands and feet are webbed so when she swims she spreads her hands out to help push herself through the water

Niki also has decorative fins on various places on her body like her ears, legs, arms and stomach, they’re all blue and can’t be controlled in anyway

She’s got gills on her neck to help filter water, so when she wants to talk to people above water she has to stick just her head out of the water and leave her neck beneath it

Breathing in air and rain at the same time is extremely uncomfortable and leaves her constantly feeling short of breath but she considers it well worth it to walk on land for a period of time

She also has sharp teeth because: yes

She doesn’t have eyelids, though, her eyes are built like a fish’s

Blazeborn!Jack

Jack constantly gives off heat, he wont burn anyone but you’ll get very hot if you stand too close to him for too long

He has metallic blaze skin that glows like molten metal if he was recently on fire or in lava

You know su!peridot’s augments she had at her intro, jack can like do that with his clawed fingers. Just like detach them at will and control them but they can’t go very far from him so it isnt very useful

And, of course, he’s immune to poison and hunger because he’s basically an android, he’s like a gold material and metal cant get poisoned or hungry

Jack will, however, become fatigued if he’s away from intense heat like fire or lava for too long, like a week

He gets hurt in water because the water basically sucks the heat away from him and that actually hurts him

Staying in a cold biome too long would do the same thing if jack didnt go prepared with warm clothing and probably a flint and steel but tbf to jack humans also die in cold biomes if they’re unprepared

I’ve got nothing for fragranceman right now as i’m not sure if schlatt’s going to be on the server a lot

But i might make skins for these!

[riversofmars]

Sorry it's taking me so long to update fics at the moment, physically and mentally drained from work at the moment 🥲

Chapter 3: Acceptance of Rewards and Taking of Risks

Liv slowly raised her arms above her head, careful not to make any sudden movements.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to startle you. I can explain. I come in peace,” she started as she rested her hands on the back of her head and looked around. She found herself surrounded. The creatures were humanoid in shape but what could be seen of their skin was scaley and green. They were wearing armour of sorts, made of fabric and metal, and lizard-like masks with large black eyes. While Liv had never met any of their kind before, she thought she recognised them from one of the many alien medical textbooks she’d read over the years. They appeared to be Silurians, she figured, which put her on ancient Earth. A step forward.  

The Silurians, however, didn’t seem to understand her at all as there was only hissing in response, in a language the med-tech didn’t speak.

“Helen would be so much better at this, I can’t even-” She wished to have the TARDIS back, the translation circuits that allowed them to converse with anyone with ease. Artron and the Ancient Gods would have had an easy time making themselves understood. Now however… “I’m sorry, I don’t understand you! And you clearly don’t understand me but- I need help.” Liv tried once more, hoping her tone of voice would go some way to express her sincerity and helplessness but the lizard-like humanoids didn’t show any sign of following her words. They did, however, find ways of making their instructions clear: One of them shoved her forward, while others turned to form an escort. They wanted her to start walking.

“Alright, I’m coming, I’m coming…” She picked up the pace and followed into a nearby cave where they followed down a narrow walkway. Liv had so many questions but knew she wouldn’t be able to get answers to them. She searched the depths of her mind for information on the Silurians. While she recalled some medical facts, physiognomy and such, there hadn’t been much on culture or their way of life in the book. She remembered something about different castes that were physiologically different from each other, adapting to their roles in society. She also remembered them to be cold-blooded and preferring warm temperatures. That was becoming obvious as the air grew warmer and more humid as they descended stairs, carved into the rock of the cave. She also remembered them being described as mostly peaceful and she hoped to find that a fact rather than an assumption. 

Liv’s musings ground to a halt when the tunnel opened up to a much larger cave, so large that the dimensions were impossible to assess with the naked eye. It housed what she could only presume to be the equivalent of a city. Metal and stone structures rose from a thicket of plants the likes of which the med-tech had never seen before. It was like its own, humid biosphere. Light shone white from the windows of the city, as well as an orange hue from rivers of lava far below. There was an unearthly feeling to it.

They walked Liv into the city and she had no option but to follow. At least she wasn’t alone, she figured. That had been her greatest fear: to find herself in a time and place where she would be all alone and out of options. While she recognised that communication would be a barrier, the level of technology she saw around herself gave her hope. In a way, it was better than being among primitive humans. Silurians were much more advanced.

She never got as far as being shown into a building. A delegation of Silurians met them halfway on a walkway. Unlike the patrol that had picked her up, they weren’t wearing masks. Liv marvelled at the objectively beautiful structure of their faces, all sharp angles and geometric scales. Most curious, however, was the fact that these Silurians seemed to possess a third eye. Vaguely, she remembered something about its purpose but she didn’t have the chance to dwell on it as one of the three Silurians, female at first glance, stepped forward.

Suddenly and without warning, a consciousness broke into Liv’s mind. It was intrusive and uncomfortable at first but as her eyes met those of the Silurian that was reaching out to her, focusing on her third eye, she felt the connection strengthening and growing more steady.

Understanding, then, became instinctual and natural.

“What are you doing here? How did you get here?” A voice questioned in the back of her mind.

“Right, okay, communication, this is good. Hello, I’m-” Out of habit, Liv spoke the words as well as thought them while the Silurian remained silent. Instead of speaking, her powerful presence cut into her train of thought.

“You are an ape primitive but you are not like the others.” It was a harsh observation but not something the med-tech could argue with.

“Well, I guess I- Yes, I am human, technically, if that’s what you mean. But no, I suspect I’m nothing like the humans you would know… If they exist already… I don’t suppose it’s any use asking what year it is? This is Earth though, isn’t it? Ancient Earth? You’re Silurians, aren’t you?” Liv carried on more enthusiastically. Being able to communicate was an important first step. Maybe luck was on her side, even if the gods weren’t.

“Who are you?” The Silurian questioned and there was a sense of curiosity in her thoughts now. Liv could feel it. While she was suspicious of her, she was also intrigued, it seemed.

“My name is Liv Chenka, I’m a time traveller,” the med-tech answered and while she felt her opponents doubt her claim, she also knew she would feel that she was being truthful, much more so than if they had only been able to talk. “I know that sounds crazy but how else would you explain me being different to the other humans you’ve seen? You know I’m telling the truth,” she reaffirmed calmly.

The Silurian exchanged looks with the others who, through their telepathic connection, seemed to be following their conversation as well.

Suddenly, there was a commotion. Their focus, and with it, the presence in Liv’s mind, were drawn towards a group of Silurians rushing towards them. Two of them were carrying a limp body and another rushed forward, calling to them in hisses. With the contact to the three-eyed Silurian lost, so was Liv’s understanding of their language but she didn’t need to hear what they were saying to understand that medical aid was needed. The med-tech’s instincts took over. She jumped into action, trying to meet them halfway but strong hands grabbed her upper arms, holding her back.

“Let me help,” Liv exclaimed and looked around for the three-eyed Silurian to make herself understood. The female was striding forward herself in what looked like an attempt to help. She was paying no attention to her.

The med-tech looked on, feeling helpless, as they brought their unconscious comrade forward and the female sought to examine him. Perhaps she was a scientist of some description, Liv deduced, as she recalled something about the psychic abilities of the Scholar caste. It didn’t take her long, however, until she spotted the reddish tint on the unconscious Silurian, so very different from the others. It rung a bell.

“Doctor!” Liv shouted to try and draw the focus of the Silurian Scholar. “I’m a doctor.” She was well aware of the power that word carried through the universe. While she couldn’t be sure these early Silurians would have encountered him, the name carried meaning through all of space and time and it made the Silurians look around. “I’m a doctor,” the med-tech repeated confidently and as the female Silurian turned her attention towards her, she felt her presence in her mind once more. Liv didn’t waste any time or allowed them to converse, she explained: “Please, he is clearly ill, I can help, I’m a doctor, a healer, someone who looks after the sick.”

“You stay where you are, human,” the instruction in her head was quite clear.

“I told you, my name is Liv,” the med-tech countered. “And I think your friend is suffering from the Crimson Horror.”

“The what?” There was a lack of understanding evident in her response and Liv understood that this was the very first time they were confronted with the disease.

“Something I read about in the TARDIS… a book about plagues… It’s transmitted by these red leech-like creatures, what were they called…” She couldn’t quite remember but the Silurian could sense the truthfulness in her words. She gestured for the guards to let her go and they did. Liv quickly took advantage of her new found freedom and hurried to the group that crowded around the unconscious victim.

“Set him down,” she instructed and gestured with her hands on the off-chance the others wouldn’t understand her, then she turned to the Silurian scientist. “There will be a small red leech somewhere on his body, like a parasite. We might be able to synthesise an antidote. Otherwise the poison might be fatal.” She lifted the Silurian’s head up, examining his face while checking for a pulse at the same time.

“Bring him to the laboratory,” the Silurian scientist’s voice echoed through her head as she hissed at the ones that had been carrying him.

“No, we need to find the leech now!” Liv interrupted sharply and traced her hands along the distinctive skull formations. “The longer it’s attached to him, the longer the poison will work.” At that, the scientist crouched down as well and examined arms and legs, anywhere clothes didn’t cover. The med-tech continued her search as well and when she ran her fingers along the back of his neck, below the collar, she found something. “Here we are!” She pulled the male forward and with the help of the Silurian female, she pushed his collar down to reveal a red leech that had attached itself right between his shoulder blades. “Does someone have a…” Liv made a pincer gesture with her fingers and one of the Silurians that had carried the sick one seemed to be a construction worker of some kind. He had a tool belt and handed her prongs. They would do just fine.

Liv prised the leech off the Silurian’s scaly skin.

“To the laboratory now,” the scientist barked beside her and the others sprang into action.

“Yes,” Liv confirmed as she stood up. “Let’s go.” She followed the Silurians into the building, there was work to be done. For the first time since the Toymaker had interfered in the course of her life, she felt in control of something again. Surely the last thing he had planned on was her doing good along the way and it spurred on her steps. What better way to defy his pathetic game.

“You have exceptional knowledge, Doctor Liv Chenka,” the Silurian scientist observed with a kind smile. Following three hours of working side by side, Liv had learned her name to be Malra and that she was indeed a scientist and a gifted one at that. In turn it seemed the Silurian woman had learned to trust the med-tech. Malra maintained their psychic connection through it all, which allowed them to work together in perfect unison.

“30 th century,” Liv answered and cast a glance to the patient who was resting on a slab nearby. They had put him in a medically induced coma to maintain his bodily functions as best as they could while they synthesised the antidote. Satisfied that his vitals remained stable, the med-tech turned her attention back to the equipment in front of her, just in time to see the centrifuge opening. “Here we are,” she announced and Malra stepped closer. “This should work,” she assured her and picked up the vial. It was a garish red, not unlike the symptoms of the disease itself. Liv could sense the Silurian’s apprehension but the calm and confidence she felt was bound to spread to her in due course.

“Go ahead,” the scientist nodded in agreement and the med-tech wasted no time as she injected their patient. While the effects were instantaneous, they were prompt enough. Twenty minutes later, there was significant improvement.

“You do need to know though that there will be more. This won’t be the last case you’ll face, quite the contrary, if you’re not careful you will be facing a pandemic,” Liv explained and Malra nodded calmly.

“We will have to rid the world of this plague. Knowing how to make the antidote will put us at an advantage,” she observed.  

“Just be careful, those red leeches are extremely virulent and if the poison is too concentrated, not even the antidote will help,” the med-tech cautioned and received a nod of agreement once more.

“Your assistance is appreciated,” the Silurian smiled and any trace of distrust she had held for her had disappeared. Her thanks was genuine and Liv felt a sense of accomplishment. Even if she hadn’t taken any more steps towards Helen, she had done something she was sure she would be proud of and it made her heart a little lighter.

“Leave a planet in a better state than you’ve found it, that’s the idea,” the med-tech recalled something the Doctor had once said to her, and even as years had passed since Ramosa, she felt the words still resonated with her. They gave her hope and purpose even in the dire circumstances she found herself in.

“You are looking to leave this planet?” Malra frowned at that and Liv nodded:

“I don’t belong here, as you can tell. But it’s not just the planet I’m looking to leave.”

“You have done us a great service, we would be glad to help you,” the Silurian offered and the med-tech looked around surprised at the unexpected suggestion. She could tell the offer was genuine and her heart started beating a little faster.

“Have you got any means of time travel?” She asked outright as there was no point in beating about the bush. Malra would be able to sense her urgency and her intentions, she didn’t need elaborate explanations.

“Time travel? No. Space travel, yes, but across time? That is only the work of the old Gods,” the scientist answered thoughtfully. There was a trace of doubt in her thoughts, despite feeling how serious she was.

“But I need Time Travel, I need to find-” Liv’s hopes crashed as quickly as they had risen at the unexpected offer of help. She should have known it wouldn’t be as easy as that but for a moment, she had had genuine hope of being able to get back to Helen. “But there will be other species out there now, won’t there? Others who might-” Her mind was working feverishly now as she refused to dwell on the disappointment. So long as she was alive, she had hope, she would find a way. If she couldn’t move in time from where she was, she would have to find somewhere from where she could. “Would you give me a ship?” She turned back to Malra who had been following her thought process with interest and concern alike. “Please, something. Some chance to… I have to try,” Liv pleaded.

“What is your quest?” The Silurian asked curiously.

“Your… Old Gods as you call them… one of them he… split me up from my partner… he sent her to the end of time and me to the beginning just to see if we could… so please, any help would be appreciated,” she revealed, hoping for her understanding and compassion.

“You have helped us, it will be our honour to help you,” the scientist answered without hesitation. “But what purpose do you suppose the Gods would…”

“Entertainment? Being fantastically bored?” Liv sighed as that was a question she struggled to answer. “Cruelty? Not all Gods are benevolent.”

“No…” Malra conceded as she contemplated her words. Through their mental connection, Liv thought she might actually understand how she was feeling and she gave a sad smile. Her heart ached for missing her love but there was hope too and determination. She would not be defeated. She had made a promise, one that Helen would hopefully have read at the end of time, and she would keep it. She could sense how the Silurian was affected by her emotions and Liv smiled, doing her best to reign in her thoughts.

“It’s alright, I will find a way back to her.”

At that, Malra straightened up, determined as well as she said: “You shall have a ship and provision, anything we can offer, it is yours,” she announced confidently and turned towards one of the guards by the door, making sure he had heard her. Then, she turned back to Liv and her voice in her head turned softer and the med-tech felt like she could almost understand her spoken words too by now. “Your name won’t be forgotten. Our historians will honour your story. Perhaps, future generations who have such technological advancements will read them and come to your aid,” she suggested and reached out to take Liv’s hand.

For a moment, the med-tech didn’t know what to say. The offer was almost too generous to consider but as she thought about it, she realised it made so much sense. It was the sort of thing the Doctor would do. It was the sort of thing he would pick up on. Maybe he would be able to come and find her one day. All she could do was nod as her throat closed up with emotions.

---

“They’re a bit creepy, aren’t they?” Jenny observed once they had returned to the comfort of Paternoster Row. The business with the Crimson Horror had been grim and she shuddered at the image of the red leech that lingered on her mind.

“Certainly. And considered one of the greatest enemies of the Silurians,” Vastra agreed as she hung up her coat.

“Yes, you said… what’s the story behind that?” Jenny questioned her wife as they made their way into the sitting room. Strax had scurried off to make tea and they took a moment to settle on the settee and enjoy the peace and quiet following their adventure. “They seem to be quite dangerous, how did your people manage to wipe them out as effectively as all that?”

“We had prior warning. At least that’s what people believe,” the Silurian revealed as she leaned back and closed her eyes for a moment. It had been a long day. “It’s a legend.”

“A legend?” Jenny frowned, her interest piqued, and her wife gave her a mild smile:

“Well, I don’t know if it’s true or not but supposedly, the very first case of the Crimson Horror was not discovered by our scientists but by a mysterious time traveller,” she revealed and Jenny rolled her eyes:

“Let me guess: the Doctor? Is he everywhere?” She laughed.

“No, this was not the Doctor,” Vastra laughed at her leap. She made an excellent point and with the little information she had given her, it was a sound conclusion. She carried on explaining: “But supposedly it was a doctor, actually, yes. A healer, just passing through.”

“Are you sure it wasn’t the Doctor?” Jenny narrowed her eyes doubtfully.

“Quite sure. Well, as sure as you can be with a legend, not recorded fact. While there are similarities to the Doctor without a doubt, I really don’t think it would have been them,” the Silurian carried on. “Have you, for instance, ever known the Doctor to cross the universe without a TARDIS in order to find their long lost love?” She looked at her wife with affection and considered how she would cross all of time and space for her as well.

“I suppose Professor Song would find him first before it came to that,” Jenny conceded with a light chuckle.

“I shall have to see if I can find a record of it somewhere for you…” Vastra mused, gazing over to the bookshelves. She was sure she had a book somewhere that contained at the very least the fairytale version.

“Is it a riveting tale?” Jenny raised her eyebrows and her wife smiled:

“It is a love story, about two women from completely different times, places, backgrounds.”

“I see,” the human woman smiled, her expression softening as she took her meaning. “And the Crimson Horror?”

“Don’t expect me to quote it but… before it became a stylised fairy story, it was a legend among my people. The elders would pass it on,” Vastra searched the back of her mind as she tried to put the story together as best as she could, she found the words came far easier than she had expected, born out of a sort of collective race memory, deeply embedded in her nature: “They would speak of the Healer that was passing through time moving form the very beginning towards the future: The Healer appeared out of nothingness in a world as foreign as the last and unable to speak the language of the people she found. While her lover, the Scholar, would have been more adept at communicating in a different language, the Healer made do as actions spoke louder than words. She had an opportunity to prove her goodness when she found a curious case of a red illness unknown to the inhabitants of Ancient Earth. Glad to be able to help, she shared her knowledge and averted great misfortune that would have befallen them. For generations to come she would be held in the highest regard and offered help by the people she had aided, ” she recited, then stopped when she noticed unexpected movement beside her. “What are you doing?” She looked at Jenny who had shuffled down, resting her head against her shoulder.

“Settling in,” her wife announced affectionately. “I thought you might tell me a little more.”

“I shall have to see if I can find the book,” Vastra smiled in turn and reached out to stroke her cheek.

---

Helen tried her best to get her bearings in an onslaught of stimuli. There was chaos. Loud arguments. Screaming. People were piling on top of each other, pushing forward as the linguist herself stumbled back. She struggled to make out much of anything in the dark that was illuminated only by flickering neon lights.

It was night-time, that much was obvious as she looked up. The sky was dark and mostly empty. There were more stars than there had been at the very end of time but not a great many more. She couldn’t have made it very far back in time at all. The end of everything was still very much approaching. The big difference, however, was that there were people here, even if they were in a panicked frenzy.

The linguist recognised the buildings that had been nothing but ruins by the time Me had inhabited them. They were run down as they were, grimy and worn, and some had been torn down already. It was an overcrowded, dirty world where hope seemed in short supply. The people, most of them humanoid but of all colours, shapes and sizes, looked no different than their world.

Helen inched back further, seeking to escape the crowd and the fact that everyone was rushing forward aided her task.

“Oh my God…” she breathed as she struggled to take in the harsh circumstances around her. She could sense the hopelessness, it was reflected in everything she saw. The inevitable end of everything was approaching and people were terrified. Helen’s heart sank for them but she refused to count herself among the likely victims of the end of the universe. She was in the far future, time travel technology existed and people were bound to be trying to leave for an earlier time. Perhaps she would be able to hitch a lift. If people hadn’t used all available means of time travel already, that was, as they had in Me’s time. She could only pray that she had made it back far enough.

“They’ve come, finally!” A woman not far from her exclaimed joyfully and a wave of euphoria, if of the desperate kind, swept through the crowd. Helen frowned and craned her neck to try and catch a glimpse of what she was referring to. She heard the distinct sound of temporal backlash before she could see anything at all and there were screams too, cut short, the unmistakable tune of death.

“No…” the linguist whispered and jolted backwards when the neon lights flickered just bright enough to outline the Angels.

“Turn off the lights, just close your eyes, just-” Somebody shouted up ahead.

“No! Don’t you know what those are? They-” Helen exclaimed, shocked at the suggestion to do the very opposite of what they should do to protect themselves. The Weeping Angels were tearing through the dark and through the crowd, whenever the lights gave out for an instant. Nobody was listening to her as she was drowned out by another voice from the front of the crowd.

“Stay calm everyone! They’re finally here!” The voice carried across the crowd. “The Angels have come!” The push forward intensified and the linguist realised in horror that they were rushing towards the Weeping Angels.

“I thought they were a legend!” Someone else exclaimed joyfully and cheers and screams mixed in a grotesque scene.

“Excuse me, sorry!” Helen grabbed the arm of a nearby lad who couldn’t be older than sixteen. A boy with his whole life ahead of him, she realised in horror, and yet she asked: “What’s going on here?”

“Everybody is gonna have a turn, Lady, now that they’re here, we-” He tried to pull away from her but she wouldn’t let him go. Maybe she could at least save one life.

“They’re Weeping Angels, some of the most vicious predators in existence, you have to keep looking at them or-” she tried explaining but her voice was drowned out by cheers of joy.

“They are salvation!”

“Here angels! Take me first!” Someone was yelling.

“Everybody calm down, you will all have a turn!” Another voice through the chaos and the instruction went unheeded. The chaos only grew.

“What is happening here?” Helen demanded to know, digging her nails into the boy’s arm as she held him back with all her strength.

“The angels have come to take us back, they have been travelling what’s left of the universe, our last hope!” He answered hurriedly, trying to tear away as if he was worried he wouldn’t get his turn. His words ran through her mind and suddenly, the puzzle pieces snapped into shape and a terrifying shape at that.

“Of course, they-” Angels would sometimes send their victims back in time and consume the sum of their unlived days. She remembered what had happened in New York, she remembered what happened to Veklin and the Monk and- “But-” What she was seeing was in no way just the displacement through time. With every flash of light, more bodies were lying on the floor amongst the advancing Angels. “But it’s a massacre!” She exclaimed as she tried her best to keep her eyes fixed on the stone creatures. In spite of her best efforts, they moved with every flicker of darkness. There were hundreds of them, she couldn’t keep her eye on all of them at once and they were ripping through the assembled crowd like wildfire.

“They will send some of us back. You just have to get lucky,” the lad shoved her back and pulled his arm free.

“They’re in a feeding frenzy, they will rip you apart!” She shouted, terrified, but he wasn’t listening, he started running, trying to catch up with the other people.

“We’re heading towards the end of the universe, we’re all dead anyway, might as well take our chances!” He yelled in response but didn’t look back. The lights flickered dark again and she lost sight of him in the chaos. All she could do was hope he was one of the lucky ones that would get to live out their days in the past. So many weren’t as the bodies piled below the imposing statues.

Helen decided to run in the opposite direction to everybody else. There was nothing she could do to stop what was happening. These people had made their decision, they had seen the death and destruction, and chose to take their chances anyway. The linguist felt sick. Not just because of the sight of so much death but because she was left to imagine what the people of this world must have been feeling to willingly throw themselves into the arms of Weeping Angels.

Suddenly, she found herself in front of the building Me had kept the Time Tree in. It seemed as good a place as any to try and hide in. For a moment, the notion crossed her mind that the Time Tree might already be there, that it might have more of its seeds left and she would be able to use it again but then, what if that meant it wouldn’t be there anymore at the end of everything? Before she had a chance to fully play through the consequences of such a paradox, she found the doors unlocked and easily opened. She hurried inside and the decision was taken off her hands when she found the space empty.

She didn’t dwell on it. She locked the door behind herself. Sadly, none of the many extra locks that Me had used had been installed yet, so she had to simply hope that the Angels wouldn’t bother to come looking for her. Surely, once they had consumed as many people as they wanted, they would have no need of her.

Exhausted from her dash and the emotional turmoil that boiled inside her, she sunk onto the floor and leaned her back against the door. She could still make out the chaos outside but the noise was slowly dying down. Helen’s heart sank. Soon she would be the only person left on the planet, how was she supposed to move on? Judging by the sky she had seen, there weren’t many worlds left that she could flee to, even if she could find transportation and if people were desperate enough to hope the Angels would take them away, it meant she was unlikely to find any other means of time travel.

“Oh Liv…” she mumbled into the empty room as the world grew ever quieter outside. “What am I supposed to do?”

She waited. Soon silence fell outside and she still hadn’t received an answer to her question. Me wasn’t here yet and it seemed she was now the only person left. For a moment, she wondered if she should wait for Me, considering the paradox of using the Time Tree once more but she knew it might be a lifetime before she arrived. She couldn’t wait that long. She had spent forty years without Liv before, she couldn’t do so again. With a heavy heart, she pulled the inscribed plate out of her coat and regarded her words, her promise. Don’t give up. I won’t.  

It was almost as if she could hear her say the words and felt stronger and reassured. She thought back to being stuck in the escape pod after Padrac had set them a trap. Liv had refused to give up then and inspired both her and the Doctor to keep going. Helen smiled to herself, noting how she was doing so again now. She wouldn’t give up. She wouldn’t lose hope. Even if the one hope, the one option that she found herself facing, seemed utterly mad. As she thought about the odds and the things they had faced together over the years, it was beginning to seem almost sane. A calculated risk. She hadn’t been able to keep track of how many people were actually displaced versus those that had been killed, but maybe she would fare better, given the fact that she knew her body to be radiating temporal energy. It was what had attracted the Angels to her and Liv in New York and it was the reason why suddenly, there was ominous knocking on the door behind her.

Helen jumped and scrambled to her feet. She hadn’t finished her train of thought, her calculation of the odds and the empirical survey of whether the risk would be worth taking. It seemed she would be pressed for a decision.

“Hello, Human,” a voice sounded on the other side of the door and the linguist’s blood ran cold. It was like the sound of chalk scraping across a board, marble rubbing against marble. It set her teeth on edge.

“So you can talk when you’re not being watched, that’s new,” Helen shot back, gathering her courage as she fixed her eyes to the door. If they opened it, at least she would be able to stop them in their tracks and do things on her terms. “Has this unlimited access to food helped you evolve?” At this point in time, the Angels were probably far more than those she had encountered in the past. There was no way of knowing what else they were capable of by now. She hoped it meant they would be able to send her back very far indeed.

“You’re not like the others,” the voice continued and she gave a bitter chuckle as she considered that there were no others to compare herself to now. For all she knew she was the last person on this world.

“No, I guess I’m not,” she retorted defiantly and squared her jaw.

“You are full of temporal energy,” the Angels hissed and Helen nodded, even if they were still divided by the door.

“Yes, I am. I’m a time traveller,” she chose to explain. “Does that mean you want to displace me rather than kill me?” She wasn’t sure whether stating a preference would work in her favour or not but she had to try.

“You are not like the others,” the Angels repeated and Helen took a deep breath.

“And you’ve finished your murderous frenzy, I hope.” The Angels seemed calmer now and she thought this, too, might increase her chances of survival. The fact that they bothered speaking to her gave her hope.

“We will feast on you,” they announced confidently and the linguist nodded to herself.

“I suppose you will, won’t you… I suppose that is my only option…” There was banging on the door and it trembled in its hinges. “And you wouldn’t just kill me, you would send me back cause I have so much potential, so much temporal energy. Like the Monk, you-” She wasn’t sure who she was talking to now, the Angels or herself. “But to trust a Weeping Angel…” The door flung off its hinges and Helen inched away, if only for a moment. The Angels stalled in their tracks as they always did once observed. That at least hadn’t changed. “Oh Liv…” The linguist smiled a sad smile as she thought of her. She was out of other options, this was her one and only chance. “But wherever it is, it’ll be a step closer...” Wherever she ended up, it would be closer to Liv and if the Angels killed her, well… she would wait for Liv in whatever came after. “Alright.” She gathered her courage and took a step towards the statues that were already reaching for her. “So I just blink, don’t I-” 

And she did. 

---

“ And the Scholar gathered all her courage as she clung to the engraved plate she carried close to her heart. She had to believe as belief was all she had. As she closed her eyes, a wave of calm washed over her as it was her love’s face she saw in her mind’s eye. The Angels whisked her away, took what they desired and gave her what she needed: another step in the right direction .” At that, Clara shut the book and looked to her charges with affection as they had listened with rapt attention.

“Oh please, keep going!” Franny exclaimed, visibly disappointed and Digby pleaded:

“Clara, please!”

“That’s it for tonight, I’m afraid, time to sleep,” the governess announced, despite being delighted at how much the children were enjoying the story. It had been one of her favourites when she was growing up and she was glad to be sharing it with them.

“Where does she end up?” Franny asked, refusing to settle into bed, even as Clara stood and put the book down on the shelf.

“And what of the Healer, where is she now?” Digby pressed, no less intrigued than his sister.

“If I tell you now, I won’t need to read it tomorrow and surely you won’t want to miss out on your bedtime story then,” Clara pointed out and gestured for them to scooch down in her beds so she could tuck them in.

“It’s such a good story,” Digby observed but couldn’t suppress a yawn, which made Clara smile.

“Love stories usually are,” she commented and pulled the duvet up to his chin.

“Have you ever been in love like that?” Franny asked, watching the governess as she made her way over to her.

“Not yet, but who knows. Finding someone that you would risk anything for, that’s a big commitment,” Clara answered kindly as she repeated the gesture on her.

“It’s worth it if the other person would do the same for you,” the girl stated and Clara nodded.

“It certainly would be,” she agreed with a smile. “Now get some rest you two. We’ll find out where they ended up tomorrow.”

[vore-scientist]

Like A Good Neighbor (sfw safe vore)

[M/nb vore with fearplay. safe soft oral non-sexual]

A tale of the Mystic Woods! Featuring Yonah HaEsh and Myran the Dwarf Witch and many other fun characters!

A story of bad first impressions and making new friends! Lots of GT, and a cute little adventure at a magical farmer’s market!

Warning: Careful there are references to Fa.tal! An example would be “ogres are far more likely to eat smallfolk than giants!” (implying that said actions are deadly). That is the extent of such references!

Other warning: mild harm during the immediate post-vore scene. Yonah just goes a little too far in scaring Myran.

——/——////——

“Did you hear?”

“Have you been told?”

“A new resident!”

“I haven’t checked it out myself! But Ms Zukkar told me-”

“A wizard!”

“Didn’t there used to be an old sorcerer there?”

“-new guy’s a witch!”

“So, hear about that new giant!”

“A giant wouldn’t fit in that tower! And wizards is all human!”

“A criminal, on the run they say”

“Maybe a magician? They like towers sometimes!”

“His Majesty wouldn’t hire a criminal!”

“-supposed to be evil?”

There were so many rumors being flung around that the dwarf witch Myran Gamadin decided to see for themselves and set out to investigate. Undoubtedly there was a new resident. The story was that he was a Mage, and a criminal, but also just expelled from The Academy of Wizardry. And a giant? That was strange, the old tower was much too small for a giant! Even if it was magic it was only 10ft taller than your average giant in the first place. However… they did hear about the trial of a giant recently… stuff that happened in the civilized court didn’t really concern those in the Woods.

“Why would you go to see a villain? You’re not evil!”

The World’s Largest™ Maine Coon cat trotted alongside the handsome young dwarf, looking more like an oddly fluffy pony than a cat.

“It’s important to know your neighbors! Even the evil ones!”

Siv flicked his tail up into his witch’s face.

“And he’s got to be just a young man! So young and the expectations on evil mages is so high! He will appreciate a friendly face!” Myran had done the math. If this Mage hadn’t even graduated from The Academy, he was at most 23. Unless he started his education late. But they doubted this.

“Why are we walking! You have your broom!” the cat complained.

“That’s for the tower, Siv. It’s one of those designed by assholes who think it’s clever to have the only entrance be the window at the top.”

“Hrfff,” said Siv.

“Do you think he will appreciate the house-warming gift? I didn’t really spend much time on it…”

“Fresh fish would be better.”

“Maybe if he were a cat. This is for a Mage.”

“Clippings of magical plants? Maybe for another witch. This is someone who was studying Wizardry.”

“Wizards use magical plants too!”

“Yeah, they buy them from witches!”

As the pair stepped out of the trees, they froze.

“I think he’ll like the gift,” Siv admitted as he And Myran stood in awe at the largest magical garden either of them had ever seen.

It wasn’t even finished yet! Plots of earth were freshly turned, and piles of wood, half built into beds that lay in patterns across the clearing. And massively spread apart. At least 3 meters between plots. And the finished ones. Well. They already had some amazing specimens. Even if they were just sprouting. Myran noticed the Twisted WyrmFern and harpy’s breath; delicate, but common magical plants that were being used to test out the soil. It was working great.

The garden did make Myran worry a bit.

Maybe this wasn’t a wizard at all! It could be a witch. And he could be very evil indeed. Even evil witches treated their gardens with the utmost care and attention.

But they had come this far. And the tower that looked over the garden was calling to them. Well. Not really. The green-black thorny vines screamed “STAY AWAY!” But when one had a flying broomstick, one didn’t need to heed such warnings.

Flipping their broom around like a baton, they sat side saddle and Siv hopped on the end, somehow managing to balance his prodigious fluff. They took off. And flew into the window.

“WOAAAHHH!”

It was like hitting an unexpected and large wave on a boogie board, but a magical one that flowed through the body! And Myran had never been to the ocean, so it made their brain swim.

The room, which from the outside looked normal, was anything but. The rumors of this being a giant were not just rumors.

This place was HUGE!

And yet, it was much too small.

Growing up, Myran had visited some giant villages with their family. They hadn’t been THAT much smaller then, but the houses and items in the village were definitely much larger. While giant mages certainly existed, they had their own traditions and made their own supplies.

This looked exactly like the workshop for a young wizard, with additions for the wizard being a giant. It was wild to see some of the common arcane tools at such an immense scale.

Flying over, Myran saw that the resident Mage had an ancient book under a magnifying glass, and had been translating it, with notes and commentary. Spell equations and diagrams were additionally copied in a dedicated smaller notebook.

While it was surely a fascinating read, they could tell at a glance the notes were somewhere in the middle of an involved spell, and they didn’t want to be the reason the Mage lost his place. The workbench had plenty of other diverting materials.

Siv had no interest in such things and curled up against the base of the magnifying glass. The sun hit the metal through the window, making it quite warm.

Myran put their broom down and explored the desk. There were several magical tombs! Rare ones! They flipped through and saw fresh handwritten notes tucked inside. Smart, this mage did not want to tarnish the original pages. There was also an open notebook and a few spell components laid out.

They stepped carefully back onto the notebook to get a better idea of what this wizard was up to. The notebook was written in giant, which Myran wasn’t fluent in but got the gist of. So this was indeed a giant wizard. Fascinating.

That’s what they were thinking until...

FEE FI FO FUM!

Myran nearly jumped out of their boots.

No longer fascinating. Very bad. Very dangerous! They’d heard stories that quoted these lines, classic, even amusing. However, hearing them bellowed by an actual giant nearly stopped their heart. These words were so loud and so immediately panic-inducing, especially when accompanied by thundering footsteps.

I SMELL THE BLOOD OF THE-

There was a pause and maybe a stutter

DWARVEN KIND!

The trap door off center in the room burst open and a giant with a mane of black hair, a trimmed goatee, and a wizard’s hat, climbed out. He was smiling, snarling, showing off impressive fangs.

USELESS TO FLEE, USELESS TO FIGHT, FOR YOU WILL BE MY MEAL TONIGHT!

Eat them!? Oh No. Myran scrambled to their feet as the giant advanced.

Siv had gone catatonic, or nearly, and fled behind the mirror. But Myran just stood there. The next thing they knew, they were in the giant's fist… AND THEN IN ITS MOUTH! There was a brief moment where they thought the giant was going to bite them in half… but no. Worse than that, the giant fulfilled his promise to make a meal of Myran by swallowing them whole.

Never had Myran imagined themselves in this predicament. Witches, as far as they knew, were not prone to being eaten by giants! Giants ate thieves, slayers, adventurers! Though... giants were known to occasionally eat random people that happened to be rude to them as they went about their business.

Myran had not been rude! They just hadn’t had a chance to be polite! This giant had no business eating them.

Not that any of this was actually going through Myran’s mind. Oh no. Myran’s thoughts were preoccupied with panicking about their impending doom!

First, they tried to stop the giant from swallowing. But the teeth threatened to crunch their limbs if they dared to try and find purchase! So, failing that, they tried to slow their progress down his esophagus.

The problem was the walls were too damn slippery! They knew that their slow progress was merely due to the tight fit, as they couldn’t stretch out. The flesh was too tough.

Right before they started to worry about suffocating, they were deposited into a large chamber, sliding into a puddle of nasty smelling fluid. They took a regretful breath of the rancid air.

Yonah sighed as the dwarf left his throat and settled into his stomach. Small yet still filling.

He patted his stomach lightly. “A bit disappointing. Dwarves don’t taste nearly as good as most other smallfolk, but I’m not complaining.” His prey thrashed and yelled but didn’t seem to be coherent.

YEOWCH!

Something bit his hand and he waved it violently. Whatever it was released and smacked into the wall that the desk was up against, crumpled into a motionless pile. Curious and momentarily forgetting his snack, Yonah investigated.

A cat!? And still alive but unconscious. Why had a cat attacked him? Then he saw the abandoned broom next to his notebook. And his stomach twisted.

“You’re— not a thief!” Technically, he could eat anyone he wanted, he wasn’t restricted to adventurers. He was still figuring out what kind of villain he wanted to be. Such self exploration would take time, time the person he ate didn’t have.

“I’m a witch!” He heard them squeak.

“A witch? Invading the lair of a wizard? Are you stupid!” He poked at them. They didn’t like that.

“Let me out!!”

So Yonah spat them up, sooner than he would have liked to, and leaned over them with a frown and glowing eyes.

The moment the witch hit the desk, the cat woke up and was between him and the witch as it hissed.

The witch was shaking and coughing, glancing at him with wide fearful eyes.

“If you’re a witch then what the fuck were you doing in my tower?” Yonah demanded.

The witch was still in shock but recovered enough to speak. “I’m… Myran! I wanted to introduce myself!”

“A likely story! Why would anyone want to introduce themselves to me?” Yonah wasn’t really in the mood for conversation, but figured he could use the practice at evil banter.

“You’re… new to the forest” they coughed.

“What’s it to you?”

“I’m your neighbor!” they said,

Yonah narrowed his eyes, “The forest is constantly moving, no such thing as neighbors.”

“I figured I’d try to be friendly!” they continued as if he hadn’t replied. “Everyone was talking about the new mage in the tower, but no one had any definitive stories.”

Another mistake. The giant snarled.

“You are a fool then! I don’t want any friends!” He hesitated briefly as he said it, not sure of the truth, but recovered fast. “But I don’t want you spreading rumors about my mercy either…” he picked them back up. Gripping them hard and getting their right arm between his teeth. He didn’t bite their arm off, but broke the skin with a fang and pinched their hand. They yelled.

“Stop! Stop! I won’t tell! I won’t tell!”

He dropped them and they sat, crying, holding their bleeding arm and hand which was turning a plum purple.

“Good,” he hissed steam in their face, scalding the skin red as his eyes glowed bright orange. “Now get the fuck out before I eat you for real!” He flicked the broom at them. “And if you ever show your face around here again, I will.”

Finally, they listened to him. They got onto the broom along with their cat and with a burst of magic kicked into the air and fled out the window. Yonah watched until they disappeared, then sat down. His hair hadn’t been smoking before but it was now. Additionally, his eyes still glowed.

His first visitor in months wasn't an adventurer and he’d eaten them without a second thought! Stupid! Stupid! Stupid!

Maybe this was his destiny. For years he’d trained himself to be restrained. Keep his anger in check, Keep his half giant identity a secret and become a wizard. But that had all gone to shit when he’d been discovered not as just a half giant, but as a half fire witch. Chased out of the academy but captured by the authorities of Orr.

Forced to sign a contract with King Ben to become his new pet monster! So why not be a monster!?

But he still wanted friends… his friends from the academy weren’t allowed to visit him. His tower of magic and wonder was so empty. He put his elbows on his desk and buried his face in his hands.

~chink~ his elbow brushed against something.

He looked down and saw a broken clay pot, the soup spilling out and a seedling now helpless and exposed on the desk.

Quickly yonah dipped his fingers into a pouch at his side and licked it, saying a spell. With a puff of smoke he stood on his desk, a mere 8ft tall, and he knelt down.

With his more appropriately sized hands he gathered the soil and with a wave of his hand and another mutter the pieces of the pot shook and flew back into their original places. The pot was… functionally repaired. The proper repair spell required materials to fuse the pieces properly. So it wouldn’t hold water, but it could hold soil.

As he scooped it back in, a piece of paper fell from the loose soil. Curious he dug it back out of the pot and cleaned it off enough to read:

“Welcome to the Mystical Woodlands new neighbor! This seedling is from my own garden. A special cultivation of Frozen Thyme.”

The moment he read it he was instantly planning where this would go in his garden. But… this gift. Did he deserve it? He’d eaten the one who brought it. He chased them away!

He couldn’t accept this gift but he couldn’t just let the seedling wither and die. It didn’t deserve that. And thus, his brain rationalized a way for him to keep the gift. So now what?

Yonah’s brain was too full of rage to do any proper work, so he decided to take it out on the garden, which was still in a state of construction. He’d already torn up old dead pieces of the overgrown mess left behind by the predecessor. Now he was digging spots for flower beds and what would hopefully be an orchard. There was even a designated spot for herbs.

The reason this was slow going was he refused to use magic. For the most part. Thankfully, being giant made digging and construction easier. Now that he had the thyme, he prioritized the herb beds. It was with a sour pride that he completed one as the sun started to go down.

A large wooden box that curved in a lovely arc close to the tower. The wood was specially imported from his The Blue Sky Mountain Giants Tribe in the Implausible Mountains, the smell of it reminding him of home. The frozen thyme seedling was given enough space to grow. He even gave it some friends that he knew would be compatible.

With his mind a little more at ease, he managed to get himself to sleep.

And awoke the next morning with an ache in his heart and a new plan in his brain.

For the first time since he arrived in this prison of a forest, he ventured beyond the boundaries of his clearing. Yonah knew he was allowed, a certain distance from his tower, to walk the forest. It had just seemed pointless. Not wanting to draw too much attention, he wore his gardening outfit: a pink plaid button up and light blue overalls. He had a straw hat that he recently wove to be a wizard hat, as well as his wizard staff. He couldn’t really leave that behind.

The trees in the forest were shorter than back home, but still very large. Thankfully he didn't have to duck so much to avoid branches. In his mind was a list of ingredients he needed to find. Foraging in the forest might seem like a fruitless endeavor, but when you have the keen nose of a giant, tracking down wildberries was a simple feat.

What a bounty! A huge patch of bramble with perfectly ripe berries. He didn’t need a giant’s amount and they would just get squashed if he tried to pick them at his normal size so once again he shrank down. He retrieved a basket from his hat and started to pick berries.

About ten minutes in, the bush began to shift! A section opened up and out ran a gnome with a garden spade. It smacked into his hand mid berry pick.

“Stop! Thief!”

SMACK SMACK!

Yonah was so startled he backed away and returned to his normal size, the basket of berries spilling over.

The gnome yelped. “Giant!” They dropped the spade. “Don’t eat me! Take berries! Don’t eat me or family!”

There was something satisfying about the gnome’s fear and Yonah grinned, “While you would make for a nice little snack,” he said, “I’m not in the mood for gnome today.”

The gnome shook and took up the spade again, pointing it at him as if that would help. From inside the bushes, Yonah heard rustling, and smelled more gnomes. This must cover their burrow.

“Put that away, or I might change my mind!” Yonah growled, showing his fangs. The gnome complied, tossing it aside.

“But you are also in luck. I am not interested in being a berry thief. I have more honor than that. If you would permit me to buy some of your berries, at a discount for me not making a meal of you and your family, I will leave you in peace”

The gnome gulped and nodded, “Am… sure we can make a deal.”

“Pick up the ones I already picked, will you?” Yonah ordered.

The gnome scrambled. “You will need more?”

Yonah nodded. The gnome whistled. And a troupe of younger gnomes carefully came out of the bramble.

“Kind giant has offered to buy some berries. Exchange for not eating us!”

The kids looked nervous and their fear didn’t spark the same kind of joy as the adults. But Yonah had a reputation to build! And he had to admit, it was still a bit fun.

He watched as the gnomes gathered berries until the basket was full and the adult gnome put it down in front of where Yonah had sat down. He picked it up and took off his hat, dropping it in and noticed the gnome’s eyes get wide. Storage space items were not uncommon, but storage hats were tools of professional mages, not common folk.

“That all?” the gnome asked.

Yonah stroked his beard thoughtfully, “Yes. I think so.” He reached into this hat. While he didn’t have a lot of money, Ben had supplied him with funds should he need them, and he had distributed the rings between his various pocket spaces. He got out a large wooden dowel upon which hung many metal rings. Small ones and large ones. With a pair of tweezers, yonah removed a few silver rings and one gold ring and put them into his palm, placing it up in front of the gnome.

Who did not take it.

“Do not insult me by refusing my payment,” Yonah insisted but the gnome did not move.

“More than we charge normally… You wanted discount: berries, a silver a pound!”

Yonah blinked. He still wasn’t good with smallfolk money. When purchasing as a giant, you purchased such large amounts it always cost at least a gold.

“Oh? Er-” he didn’t want to actually exploit these gnomes. “I'm not taking it back! Take the money Or I’ll eat you!” his voice faltered and the gnomes looked a little confused, and a little more relaxed.

“Leave us alone then, yes?” The gnome reached out a hand. Yonah nodded. The gnome finally took the money, giving each of the kids a silver ring. Any fear the kids had was gone as soon as they studied their rings and looked at Yonah with excitement. It was hard not to let the warmth in his heart at their expressions show on his own face.

“Actually!” Yonah announced as the gnomes started to back away into their burrow.

The adult stopped and looked nervous again. Yonah huffed. “I’m not going to eat you, I never was. I just have a question.”

The gnome ushered the kids away, not trusting Yonah, before turning back to the giant. “And if don’t have a good answer, you won’t eat… right?”

With a sigh Yonah shook his head, “No. I won't.”

“Then ask.”

Yonah took a breath, “I am... looking to get some ingredients. I… lashed out at someone recently and I very much regret it, and want to make some amends. I have giant ones back home but… giant sized ingredients do not taste as strong as small ones. Do you know where, or who, I might be able to look for?”

The gnome smiles, “Yes! Mystical Market. Sell our berries there. Open today, also gnome holiday.” They gave Yonah the instructions on how to find the market.

“Thank you- er…” Yonah put a hand to his chest and bowed.

“Kalle” said Kalle.

“Yonah,” said Yonah. The gnome bowed as well, “Don’t be flaunting riches, mysterious half giant. Marketeers take advantage”

Riches!? He did not have endless funds. He would have to be more careful with his spending.

“I am also looking for… Er... Shit!” he exclaimed and was glad the kids were no longer outside, “I don't know their name. Dwarf witch.”

Kalle considered, “Know them. Likes almond cookies. Sorry. Market easier find than people. That all?”

From their tone of voice, Yonah knew the gnome desperately wanted to get back to their family. It was a holiday after all. Yonah stood up and nodded, leaving without subjecting them to any more conversation.

Almond cookies? That changed things. He had only made almond cookies once! He needed a little more help. However, he did not backtrack to the tower. He knew that if he went back, he would lose motivation. Locating the market was his current task.

Unfortunately, it took some luck. According to the gnome, it was a special place that one happened to come across, just by wanting to be there. The more familiar you were with it, the better chance there was of that happening. Yonah really really wanted to be there. So he gathered his will and set off in a random direction.

After an hour of walking yonah felt a weird tingle all over his arms and legs. Like his hair was standing on end and all pointing in the same direction. Had he entered some magical field? No matter, he was fairly immune to passive magic.

Then he took another step and a jolt of magic electricity surged through his body, causing him to freeze up. Before he could collapse, he felt as if a giant hook had caught around his middle. There was no physical hook, but it still yanked him back, pulling in through the forest.

Eventually it stopped and finally Yonah fell over, breathing shallowly as his heart raced. He rolled onto his back and stared up into the trees.

“What’s the big idea!?” Someone kicked him in the side and he sat up. “You’re blocking the way!”

An elf!

Yonah frowned. “You’re so bold for someone I could crush with a finger!” To tease the elf, he poked them in the chest.

“YEOWCH!”

For the second time that day, Yonah got bitten. This time, it was the elf who sank their fangs into his finger, letting go before Yonah pulled away.

“Don’t get sassy with me! Messing with smallfolk isn’t allowed in the market, you'll be banned!”

Yonah looked around “The market?”

He had assumed it was the Mystical Market because it was in the Mystical Woodlands. But now he realized that the name was rather accurate. An entire marketplace incorporated into the forest itself. Stalls and restaurants built into the trees, with carts parked in between. The trees here were also… there was no other word for it: majestic. Larger and older and, compared to the forest he had been exploring before, more deliberate spacing. He couldn’t even see all of it. The forest stretched on for a while, and thus was obscured by the very trees that made up the shops.

There were even buildings in the branches so that ogres, trolls, and giants did not have to bend down to make transactions. He even spotted a few trolls. Amazing! Trolls (and ogres) were much more likely than giants to eat smallfolk. Giants mostly threatened unless the person in question did something really, really stupid.

And yet, there was a troll, large with brown fur and green spots, purchasing a roll of fabric from the elevated section of a gnome shop.

“Yes you idiot, the market! And my cart won't fit through any other path! Move your giant ass or I’ll get the guard to move it for you!”

His elation at having found the market was in conflict with his pride that was being so insulted by this little creature.

“Apologize for biting me, and I’ll consider it!”

The elf looked indignant. “You threatened to squash me! MAGEN!!” they yelled.

Thunderous footsteps were heard and Yonah turned as a proper, full blooded giant, made her way through the shoppers, somehow avoiding stepping on anyone. She was maybe 17, but full grown and taller than Yonah by at least ten feet. Her skin was a light greyish pink and her eyes were a dark red. She wore a lovely headpiece of woven flowers and vines to look like hair, which full giants do not have.

She knelt “This man bothering you?”

The elf nodded. Yonah threw his hands up, “Hey! I don’t mean any trouble!”

“He threatened to squash me!”

The giant glared at Yonah, who glared back.

“How largefolk deal with smalls outside of the market is their own business,” she said. “But inside the market we do not even threaten to squash, or kick, or stomp, or eat!”

“I did not intend to and I did not know I was in the market! I have never been before!” Yonah stood up so that he was not at such an extreme height disadvantage. Magen was a rather short mountain giant, only 35ft tall.

She nodded, “I can believe that.” She stood up. “I would have remembered you for sure.” She sniffed and said in implausible Giant: “You are from the blue sky tribe?”

“Yes! I am.” he answered, also in Giant. “I just moved to the forest. I was looking for the market but… I must have… hit something magic. I sort of fell into here”.

The elf took the opportunity to weave their cart around the giants’ feet, disappearing into the market.

“Ah, the seller seems to no longer push this issue. My name is Magen.” she introduced, bowing.

“Yonah HaEsh,” Yonah answered in return.

“HaEsh! I know the name. Fire man who helped save the Implausible Mountains from the Society of Wizards!”

“That’s my dad,” Yonah said, a little embarrassed.

“Mom told me the story! How exciting!”

Yonah brushed himself off and glanced around, “So... What are the rules here, then?”

Magen shrugged, “Just don’t start fights, alright? All sales are final, so don't go making a fuss if you haggled wrong or think you got cheated unless you believe your items are defective. There are ways to deal with fraudulent goods, but we cannot risk collateral damage.”

“Does that happen often?” Yonah asked, “I only mean to buy food, I can tell if that’s fresh”

“Oh, you have a giant’s nose then. Good. It does not happen often. Makes my job easier. And I usually manage to break up confrontations before they get out of hand.”

Knowing he could likely sniff out the stalls he needed, Yonah asked if Magen could show him around and help him find all the items on his list. She happily agreed. He had to walk behind her as there wasn’t room for two giants to be side by side.

As she carefully led him, she took glances back and down Yonah who was getting a little nervous. It had been a while since he encountered other giants. He was watching his feet to make sure he didn’t hurt anyone, and he was stopping constantly to look into the shops and stalls and carts.

“What is it like, being half giant?” Magen asked, who somehow managed to walk without looking at her feet very often at all. Maybe Yonah was being too careful and people here knew to stay out of the way of largefolk's feet… Still, he didn't want to take chances.

“Er… I have hair, I guess?” he said.

“I was wondering if that was natural or a wig.” Magen brushed the vines spilling from her head.

“But mostly, things were just a bit inconveniently large for me. I still managed.” Then he countered. “What’s it like being a guard in the market?”

“The shopkeepers pool money to have me stand around, mostly. Smallfolk behave when an angry giant is within earshot.” She grinned with all her fangs.

“I thought you said giants couldnt mess with smallfolk here?” Yonah inquired.

“You can’t. It’s my job to interfere,” Magen retorted. “I haven't hurt anyone… badly. I’ve only worked here for a year. But I know everyone and everyone knows me!”

They stopped at a stand selling nuts and Yonah purchased the almonds he needed. The seller seemed a bit disappointed that he bought so few.

“Shopping for someone small?” Magen asked.

“Er- yeah.” Yonah said. They both had to back between trees to let a trio of trolls go by. One was only 10 feet tall and barely came up to Yonah’s waist, but another was nearly 20 feet! They carried baskets and bags on their furry backs, and even had some tied to their tusks!

Before they continued, two elves leapt from the tree nearby and onto Yonah’s shoulders! He was about to brush them off when Magen stopped him.

“Don’t! They are just hitching rides!” At that, he spotted more elves on her head. “You need honey, yes? I know the best shop!”

He followed Magen around the market, which was much larger than he had realized. The elves had no qualms about leaping on and off him and other largefolk shoppers and eventually he ignored them. Magen even helped him avoid making a bad deal for oat flour, saying she couldn’t believe the nerve of the shopkeeper trying to take advantage of a new resident.

Before Yonah left, he wanted to properly thank Magen. “If there is anything I can do to show thanks. Perhaps er-” he looked around.

“You know, the juice stand behind that tree has new flavors I’ve wanted to try. How about you buy me a drink? You should get one too. It’s very refreshing!”

“They make them giant sized?” Yonah asked.

“Oh, they are made by ogres!” Magen replied, rounding the indicated tree.

Ogres, kin of trolls and even more dangerous due to their magical powers. Typically smaller than trolls, but that was not the way to tell them apart.

An entire family of ogres were operating a massive open storefront. Jugs hung from branches or were strapped to the trunks of trees and fruit swung in baskets. Behind the counter was an elaborate prep station operated by two large ogres. Around the entire display were platforms sticking out from the nearby trees. Smallfolk sat on stools enjoying drinks and food at an elevation that made it easy to be served by the ogres. Magen walked up to the counter, which was not at an ideal height for her but was easily manageable. She spoke to an ogre with straw colored fur, blue spots, and large horns.

“Edna! I’d like two passion fruit smoothies please! One giant sized and one…” She glanced back at Yonah. “Full Troll sized!” She stepped aside and pointed at Yonah. “He’s paying”

Edna nodded and passed on the order.

Yonah stepped forward. Bowing “Yonah HaEsh”. She bowed back, “Edna Baneclaw. That will be a gold bracelet for the giant and half for the full troll”

Yonah’s heart nearly stopped. A gold bracelet and a half !? He looked at Magen who flashed her fangs mischievously then back at Enda.

Edna smiled as well. “We don’t have enlarged passion fruit, not in high demand by largefolk.”

With another glare at Magen, Yonah fished into his hat. He didn’t have gold bracelets but he had rings. 10 silver to a gold. Rings to Rings. Bracelets to Bracelets… 10 gold rings to a silver bracelet… 10 silver bracelets to a gold ring. That’s 100 gold rings to a gold bracelet (he had really overpaid the gnomes for the berries... A holiday gift he supposed), but this was not money to spend on frivolous fruit drinks!

Too late, however. The drinks were ready, and he carefully removed golden rings from silver bracelets. 50 gold rings and 10 silver bracelets exchanged for two smoothies. They came in wooden cups with bamboo straws.

This better be fucking worth it. Yonah took a sip.

His eyes widened as the cool icy tart concoction hit his taste buds and he took a long drink. Finally, he looked at Magen and then Edna. “This is incredible!” he exclaimed. Magen grinned and sipped hers as well. “Yeah. Too bad we’re the last two to have some for at least a month!”

“What do you mean?”

“That took all the passion fruit we had,” Edna informed. “Won't get more for a while”

“Worth it! Suck it smallfolk!” Magen teased the people on the platforms, a few looked a bit annoyed, but most didn't seem to care. She didn't seem to care either.

“Well it was nice meeting you, Yonah. I hope to see you again. Oh, and by the way, you can return your mug to the ogres for a silver bracelet, even if you take it home today!”

Yonah glanced at his drink. “Oh! Thanks for letting me know. But where are you going?”

Magen sipped at her smoothie loudly before answering. “This was my break, silly, I need to go back on proper duty now, and you have all your things.” Magen held out her free hand and Yonah shook it, bidding her goodbye. It was getting late in the day now and he wanted to get to work on the almond cookies.

Wait… which way was back to the tower? How could he be so stupid wandering off like this!? His mom taught him better than that. Forest ranger rule number 1: DON’T GET LOST. ...okay, so that wasn’t really a rule. It was supposed to imply that you paid attention to where you were going so you could get back. This was not so easy in the Mystic Woods.

The moment he had walked far enough away from the market, he turned forward and then back, and it was already gone. He had nowhere to go but forward.

It was to his great surprise that only a minute later, he exited the dense trees and found himself in the clearing. The tower was on the opposite side. While he was elated to have made it back safely before dark, there was a distinct absence of any gladness to be home. This was not his home, after all. It was his prison.

Yonah HaEsh climbed up the tower and back into his prison. He took off his hat and sat down at his desk in the workshop, staring into the reflection on the large, ornate mirror that rested upon it.

To do this right, he needed help. Professional help. So he activated his mirror. Or at least… tried. He stared at his own reflection, then spoke. “Mirror Mirror on the desk,” he faltered, “Could you please connect me to Shoshana at the academy?”

The mirror snorted. “You think politeness will work after all this time? I don’t make exceptions. This is why your friends think you’ve forgotten about them! Put in the effort! Ask me properly or don't at all.”

“They’ve called me!!” Yonah insisted, but the mirror said nothing in response. Just like he would do when he got calls from his friends. Yonah growled and snorted back at the mirror, fogging it up. “Mirror Mirror, oh magical vanity, I wish to call Shoshana, at the wizard academy”

There was a whistle from the mirror. “Now that’s how you do it!” it praised. The fog cleared and for a brief moment, he saw his own face again before the reflective surface turned grey. Another moment and the face of his friend Shoshana emerged.

“Yonah!!!” she exclaimed. “You called! I cannot believe it!”

Yonah’s face turned a bit red. “I’ve… been distracted.”

Shoshana waved her hand, stopping any further excuses. “You’ve been through so much! I was worried! Since we graduated, you haven't called at all!”

/I never called before either... / Yonah thought. /It was always you.../ When Grand Master Sean reinstated him as a wizardling student, his friends would call regularly to work on homework and their theses, as he wasn’t allowed to actually attend the school in person. And while he attended the graduation…

That wasn’t a happy memory at all and he didn’t want to think about how he sat behind all the students in the amphitheater in magic chains looking more like a beast one of the adventuring tract students had wrangled for their final than a student.

“I need a recipe!” he said.

Shoshana raised her brows “That’s it!? First call in over a month, and it’s to get a recipe! You don’t want to catch up at all?!” Yonah’s eyes flickered and Shoshana backed off. “Alright, I can see you’re not in the mood. But please, we’re all missing you so much. We’d assumed you embraced the evil hermit wizard life.”

“I… haven’t meant to. But it’s surprisingly easy,” he admitted, grinning awkwardly. “I’d rather not go full hermit, of course.”

“Well, then dont go a month without calling your friends!” Shoshana chided. “Or make some new friends! The forest is full of interesting people, right?”

Yonah looked away, but his eyes were probably glowing orange now.

“This… is for that.”

“Oh!” Shoshana exclaimed, “I should have figured! Of course, I will give you whatever recipe you’d like.”

Yonah got out his ingredients to show Shoshana and explained what he wanted to bake. She nodded and made some suggestions for ingredients and spices to really make these cookies great. He did not have all the supplies she suggested, which led to some back-and-forth as Shoshana pointed out some substitutions for what Yonah bought or already had in his tower.

“Got that all down?” she asked, as she watched Yonah scribble out the final lines to the recipe.

“Yes!” Yonah exhaled in relief. “Thank you so much, Shosh!”

“Next time, we will catch up properly, but I had fun designing this recipe!” Shoshana chirped. “What a challenge. I wish you had called first, before just buying random ingredients.”

“I was already in the forest, Shosh.”

“I know, I know.” Shoshana blew Yonah a kiss and the mirror flickered back to his reflection.

It was time to bake! Which he did after shrinking down.

By the time he was done baking his jam print almond cookies, it was past midnight. He needed sleep and didn't think finding the witch at night was a particularly wise idea, especially since he was getting tired. That meant he was extra likely to be grumpy and irritable. So he placed the cookies in a special cooling rack to keep them magically fresh, then went to bed.

It was right after breakfast that Yonah HaEsh left the tower and, for the second time, entered the forest.

Once again, he had no direction, not that one could in the Mystic Woods. It wasn't even possible to have a map unless it was incredibly magical. Still, he was determined and willing to wander the forest for days if he must! But he’d do so at his full size, which would allow him to cover more ground.

That’s… That’s a witch’s hut! He hoped it was the correct one. It was more of a mound than a hut, with one side covered in rocks and moss and the other a more sheer side with windows, plus a flatter side with a door.

As he approached, a garden came into view and he heard a yelp before watching a small figure dart into the hut and close the curtains. The door opened briefly and a hand hung a sign that read “NO SOLICITORS”

That was the evil giant! Why was he here!? Why did the forest let him find the hut!? Was he here to eat them?! To finish the job!? Could they take on a giant fire witch?! Myran was a damn skilled witch, and at least 15 years the giant’s senior by their estimate, but they were quaking in their boots.

A knock sounded at their door. It didn’t sound forceful enough to be a giant. Siv was in front of them, hissing at the door. Thinking it better to be safe, they peeked out the window, then ran to open the door. Just a crack.

Red faced and holding a basket was… the giant. Only he wasn’t giant. Not exactly. He now stood at about twice Myran’s height. A little less actually. Right. Wizard. Giant wizard.

“May I come in?”

“Depends… what’s in the basket?” They narrowed their eyes. “I don’t want any nasty surprises.”

The wizard’s face got redder as he removed the cover. They opened the door and stood aside. They took the basket with their right hand… Yonah hesitated. Their arm had a massive scar from shoulder to elbow, but the hand was unbroken. The Dwarf noticed and gave him a hard look as he crouched low to get through the dwarf sized door, Siv still hissing at him in warning.

Myran put the basket on the kitchen table and motioned to the couch. “Please, sit.” Yonah did. The couch was small for him but it took his weight. “I’m going to be honest.” Myran leaned against the kitchen table and crossed their arms. “This is quite the unexpected visit.”

“Oh?” Yonah said. Of course, it made sense. He chased them out. Why would he then try to find them again?

“You bit me!” Myran reminded him harshly. “You broke my hand, and you said if you saw me again, you would eat me. Again. And kill me.”

/Ohhhh/

Yonah’s breath caught before managing to say. “I did… didn’t I?” He looked down at his feet.

Myran. sighed. “Yep. Though eating me at your current size would be an impressive feat. So... What the fuck are you doing here? Besides bringing me cookies to fatten me up.”

“I’m not-!” He looked back up to defend himself and saw their cheeky grin. “I didn’t come here to eat you…” They raised an eyebrow in sarcastic disbelief. “I want to apologize. For what I said… What I did. After I ate you. I was so angry. I still am, though mostly at myself. I shouldn't have hurt you. It wasn’t right.” He was almost crying. Dammit, he’d gone nearly a month without crying!

“And for eating me?”

“Huh?” Yonah was thoroughly confused.

“You’re sorry for what happened after you ate me, but what about eating me?”

Yonah bit his lip, “I’m… I’m not sorry about that.”

The witch raised both eyebrows now, genuinely curious as to the workings of this monster’s thoughts.

“I’m supposed to eat people! Especially those who enter my tower unannounced. It’s part of my job! And… And I like it!” He startled himself with that statement. He liked his job? He didn’t even want this job!! He was forcefully employed by the King under threat of death! Being evil had never been his plan and he didn’t want that. Did he?

The witch didn’t look completely satisfied with this answer. But they didn’t get to inquire further as Yonah’s curiosity got the better of him.

“Er- your hand…”

Myran smiled “It was rather mangled by your jaws yesterday. Luckily, I am a very good healer, and well-known in this forest. If you had killed me, you would have had a lot of angry forest residents after your head.” Myran began preparing a pot of tea as Yonah Processed that statement. “You’re a lucky giant aren’t you?”

“What?” Yonah voiced. “For not killing you and putting a target on my back?”

“Yes, exactly. And that was curious. It is rare that evil giants are merciful.”

Yonah looked away, “I’ve only been evil for a few months. I… you’re the third person I’ve eaten at all. And I dont… I haven’t yet… killed anyone.”

That surprised Myran. “I guess I do not know the frequency that giants normally encounter adventurers… but what I meant was you’re lucky that you even get to eat people. Most giants like the taste of smallfolk but they don't actually eat them. It’s rather rare.”

“You said it yourself. Evil Giants eat people,” Yonah pointed out. “Which I am one. I guess it’s… nice that I get to eat folks. But it comes with a cost… It’s only a matter of time before slayers come after me.”

“Most evil giants kill their victims, right?” Myran asked.

Yonah shrugged “I met another one once. Said it depended on his mood.”

“Fascinating… though if you keep up your more merciful streak, perhaps you are less likely to attract slayers?”

“Perhaps…” Yonah had not considered that. He just felt he wasn’t ready to kill anyone yet, but maybe there were other perks than just a clear conscience in continuing to let his snacks go.

“Cracked some sort of code then?” Myran inquired. “Getting to eat people without attracting too much attention? Not that this would stop all slayers,” they added. “I expect you would kill a slayer?”

Yonah nodded, sniffed, and wiped his nose. In that case… Guess he was lucky. Indeed, he’d gotten to taste plenty of smallfolk. Plenty of giants did. It was unique that he’d had his human dad while growing up. But all of the smallfolk in the village knew that when giants kissed their hands, the giants were getting little tastes. Sometimes giants would lick a friend playfully or freak someone out. He’d had a few elvish and human friends growing up, and they sometimes let him and the other giant kids lick them during games of Jacks and Giants. And his academy friends were quite amused by his affections. He very much missed them. It had not taken long for him to get used to living amongst human friends, not just because he got to taste them. And so quickly, that was taken away from him. Friends…

As tears welled in his eyes he couldn’t look at Myran any longer. He closed his eyes and turned his face away. Should he keep talking? Shit, how much of that had he said out loud!? The words continued to come out regardless.

“I know I said I didn’t want any friends. But I do! I need them. And I know I can’t be your friend. You came to me and I fucked it up. But I beseech you to not tell everyone else in the forest to avoid me. I already went to the mystical market and-“

“You… how did you find out that I liked almonds!”

Yonah looked up. They weren’t looking at him but reaching into the basket for another cookie. They munched on it thoughtfully, not a crumb falling into their beard. The tea was ready and Myran poured it with magic, leaving their hands free to hold more cookies. They walked over to Yonah, the tea cups floating with. He took the larger one out of mid air. It was very hot! And he drank. It was… It tasted like tea he’d had at home. His village had alway gotten various teas from the dwarves. New tears came to his eyes.

“You alright?” Myran asked, offering a handkerchief. “You’re a very emotional evil giant.”

Yonah took it and dried his eyes. “The tea is… really good.” That wasn’t the real reason but right now he couldn’t process all of his emotions.

“It’s my grandma’s blend,” Myran said. “I’ve tried to replicate it using my garden, but you just can’t replicate those tunnel grown fungi.”

They dipped one of the cookies into the tea. From their expression, it wasn’t really a mistake but likely didn’t improve the experience. Still they munched thoughtfully.

“I’ll be your friend.”

Yonah’s jaw nearly hit the floor and he almost dropped his tea. It was a few seconds before he managed to pick his jaw back up. Were they serious? They walked over to him, placing their much smaller hand over one of his. Then they smiled most disarmingly.

“Just don’t eat me again.”

Yonah smiled.

“I think I can manage that”

[FIN]

——

(You can imagine that Yonah got to hug Myran before he left, probably a little too tight but dwarves are tough!)

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