#female tiny

[tiny-traps]

captive audience

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[borrowedtimeandspace]

Through the Cracks (of Time and Space) 1

Chapter 1: House Calls

Co-written with @t3a-tan

[Ao3] [Tumblr Masterlist]

First (here!) | Next

Word count: 3,425

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The street was quiet. A brisk winter breeze whispered through the tops of trees in the distant forest, carrying the chill that kept most of the neighbourhood snug in their homes.

Along came the stranger to break up the peaceful silence. He confidently hopped up to somebody's porch and gave the door a series of sharp raps to the rhythm of ‘Shave and a Haircut’ punctuated by a ring of the doorbell for good measure. After about a minute, a rather confused resident answered the door to find a tall, thin man with wildly spiked-up hair and a cheery grin that spread from ear to ear.

“Afternoon!” he greeted them. In a blink, he reached into the pocket of his tan overcoat and flashed open a small, thin wallet with an ID of some sort in it that certainly looked professional. “John Smith, here with the electric. Had some calls about surges in the area, just checking in to make sure all's on the up and up.”

With the homeowner thrown for a loop, the man stowed the wallet and slipped casually through the threshold to have a look about. Something about that John Smith completely disarmed them, so they answered all his strange questions and allowed him to come in and scrutinize the electronics. He seemed harmless enough, and somewhat official-looking in his blue suit (though the bright red Converse high tops did give them pause).

Half an hour passed quickly, and Smith admitted that all seemed up to code and he'd found nothing out of the ordinary. With an unceremonious, “Ah well. Bye, then!” he sauntered back out the way he'd come.

The resident was left slightly reeling from the unexpected, yet strangely unobtrusive interruption to their day.

When he reached the pavement out front, the man who actually called himself the Doctor rather than John Smith paused. He turned to give a long stare up and down the space between two houses, his gaze sharp and almost expectant. Then he shrugged and strode right up to the next house over.

He introduced himself similarly to the next neighbour, but got caught up chatting in the doorway with them. No matter how hard he tried to steer the questioning toward any bizarre sightings or unexplained surges and outages, the woman found a way to swing the conversation back to busybody gossip about various people up the street. That took up about twenty minutes before he managed to come up with an excuse to end the conversation and got her to close the door.

With an exasperated sigh, the Doctor once again glanced down the walkway between the two houses. Nothing there.

The next two houses down the line yielded nothing; one shut the door in his face before he could even finish his spiel, and the other didn't answer at all. He didn't bother to wait for more than five minutes before circling back around to the first house. This time he was tense from head to toe, growing agitated each time he looked in the same spot and found nothing.

Brow furrowed deeply, he glanced up and down the street before reaching into the inner pocket of his jacket to pull out a small silver tube with a blue bulb at the end. He cupped a hand over the bulb to hide the way it glowed when he pressed a button on the side. It gave a strange warbling buzz as he slowly panned it along the street before him.

His left eyebrow arched as he somehow derived meaning from the sound, only for the other to quickly join it when a few short whistles rang out from behind him.

The Doctor quickly put away his device and straightened his coat, looking down at himself to regard his right shoe. On the off chance that someone noticed him through a window, he made a point of ‘noticing’ his shoe had gotten untied and crouching down to do it up again.

“Thought you were in trouble,” he murmured under his breath as he pantomimed tying his shoe.

Well hidden behind his hunched frame, a small figure jogged out of the shadows alongside the first house and sidled right up to his shoe. An extremely small, young-looking woman who stood only a few inches high. Having just burst out into the cold again, she frantically tied up the fastenings of her dark, fitted coat and adjusted the single strap of her knapsack to a more secure position than being hastily thrown over one shoulder.

“Got tied up with the locals, sorry!” she called up to him as she clambered onto the back of his hand in a well-practiced motion.

His shoulders slumped in a huff to feel her slight weight start to hike up his forearm. He did his best to keep still otherwise, but as he glanced toward her to make absolutely sure that she was alright, his eyes narrowed.

“Your pack is more full,” he pointed out the noticeable extra heft she seemed to be carrying in her knapsack. Her climb up the fabric of his coat sleeve stuttered briefly as tiny violet eyes cut in his direction. He continued, growing a little more indignant with each question. “Is that what took you so long? Did you go borrowing in there, Zepheera?”

“No!” she insisted, full of indignation to be accused of wasting time. One miniscule hand let go of his coat sleeve so she could brush back her short brown hair and look him in the eye as she informed him, “The family was just…hospitable, that's all. Of course I look like a kid out on my own to them, so they refused to let me leave without giving me something. I took some granola to be polite, alright?”

He couldn't argue with that, so Zepheera carried on with her climb. “Find anything?” he asked.

“Nah, nothing unusual,” she shook her head as she pulled herself up onto his shoulder. “You?”

“Not a blip.” The Doctor reached up to adjust his collar to stick out a little more from his coat and jacket. “Can't even pick up anything on the sonic.”

Zepheera was quick to duck underneath the collar once his hands fell away; though she had on extra layers to stave off the cold, she'd never complain about having a warm hiding spot. Being smaller than a finger made it quite easy for her to crouch low enough to remain perfectly out of sight, without even a wrinkle to give the borrower away.

“Think we need a new approach,” she commented, clinging to the fabric beneath her as the Doctor rose to his feet.

“Yeah, I agree.” Tugging thoughtfully at his earlobe, the Doctor glanced around and found the road as empty as it had been all day. “Let's try the next street over. Stick together this time?”

“Definitely. Dunno if my pack can handle any more hospitality.” Though she rarely had cause to use it for its intended purpose whilst traveling with the Doctor, Zepheera felt naked without a bag to carry out and about. Hers was relatively compact compared to what other borrowers would carry; she mainly needed it to hold her climbing supplies. Even while traveling with a Time Lord out in the wide universe, there was always something that required climbing for a person who barely stood over 3 inches tall.

With that decided, the Doctor shoved his hands into his coat pockets and made his way to the other side of the neighbourhood. He passed by a police box standing on the street corner that did not belong there, running an almost affectionate hand along its blue wooden finish as he sauntered down the road.

~~~

Unbeknownst to them a tiny pair of green eyes peered down from above, watching from the old outstretched branches of an ancient oak tree. He was sat up on the mossy bark, one leg dangling over the edge whilst the other was propped up on it, clutching a mini pair of crudely-made binoculars in leather-gloved hands.

The outdoor borrower’s skin was a warm shade of almond, his dark brown hair slicked back smartly to frame his sharp features. He wore a pair of rectangular glasses crafted from thin wire that held two concave lenses in place to correct his near-sighted vision. The forest green collar of his undershirt peeked over the neckline of the lighter-colored green sweater, a fur cloak hanging over his shoulders to keep him warm in the frigid air.

“Hmm… I don't recall there being a police box there… Aren't there only 15 left in the UK?” He lowered the binoculars, turning his gaze upwards and meeting the intense golden gaze of the common buzzard perched beside him. She let out an agreeable croon, narrowing her eyes at the blue box as if she too had been reading up on the topic. 

“Peculiar… Well, I cannot deny that it is there now. I will have to add it to my maps once I have finished these rounds.” With a hum, Oliver looked back down towards the newest odd addition to the landscape. Recently in order to make the city feel less dull there had been a lot of changes; signposts, lampposts and letterboxes being painted with colourful flowery patterns by artists all over the area. Ornate graffiti coated the sides of large buildings, and Oliver had to agree that it gave the city a much more lively atmosphere.

Pushing himself up to a stand, the man brushed off his green sweater and straightened his collar. He readjusted his wired glasses before taking hold of the reins attached to the bird of prey and pulling himself elegantly and effortlessly up onto her brown speckled back with a low but short whistle.

“Come on then, girl.” He received an affirmative squawk in response and pressed his body down against her feathers to avoid being dismounted by the wind, a hint of a smile playing on his lips as he kept a tight grip on the reins, waiting for the feeling of rushing air to hit him. The buzzard flapped her wings experimentally before diving off of the tree branch, two broad wings each far longer than Oliver was tall snapping outwards a moment later as she soared over the pavement, heading straight for one of the few semi-detached terrace houses with a tree in the fenced-in garden.

Landing smoothly on the dormant grass after circling to check for humans that may be watching, she leaned down to allow her fragile passenger to climb from her back onto the ground waiting below. The man obliged, and once he was off of her back he leaned his forehead against her beak affectionately, cradling the sharp appendage in his gloved palms and closing his eyes.

“Thank you, Gail. I will call for you when I need you. You know the drill, my friend.” He pulled back after a moment only to chuckle as the bird leaned in and pruned at his already mussed up hair as a goodbye. He backed away whilst trying his best to straighten his wind-swept hair and waved, one hand holding the strap of his pack which was full to the brim with supplies— not to mention the ones on his back that were previously strapped to Gail’s sides.

Cupping one hand over his eyebrows to block out the low winter sun, he watched as Gail ascended and flew off into the empty blue sky. Once she was out of sight he turned and began approaching the same crack in the wall he had used every year to start off his rounds.

“Alright, Oliver… This year should be relatively smooth,” he muttered to himself determinedly, pulling out a notebook sewn together at the spine with golden thread and labeled as ‘Inspection Ten’, flipping it open to page one. The notebook was empty so far but with hundreds of pages to fill, not to mention an extra notebook just in case that wasn’t enough.

“If there are no changes, move on. This city keeps expanding, and I do not have time to do thorough checks of places that do not need it anymore…” he reminded himself, pulling out a tiny lantern he had made using wires and a small LED connected to a battery slung over his back. It was still a pretty clunky device, but it made travelling in the dark much easier.

He hummed as he inspected the derelict state of the tunnels, holding the handle of the lantern between his teeth as he pulled out a piece of lead and began to take notes.

“First Zone, House One, still uninhabited by borrowers… Due to the toys in the garden I am led to believe this is because of the young children in the house, same as last year. No changes.” He underlined the last line before closing the notebook, putting it back in his pack and continuing along the tunnels with a healthy level of caution; wary of any potential predatory bug infestations that may have developed due to the lack of borrower habitation.

He held the lantern out in front of himself, knowing the route to the next house by heart at this point due to this being his tenth year of doing this exact thing. He always started at the same house and followed the same path every year in order to keep track of the borrowers and humans in the area, trading along the way. It was now simply another part of his routine, and though he took the time to make note of any potential damages to the structure of the house, or suspected critters living in other parts of the walls, he continued along his route without much fuss.

Usually there wasn't much to report during his rounds, but he still believed it was necessary in order to make the city safer for borrowers. Sure, it wasn't the biggest city in England, not even close, but it was expanding year by year, and with cameras becoming much more common in human homes Oliver just wanted to check in with his fellow borrowers to make them aware of whether the house they were residing in was no longer safe to borrow in.

It was cameras that got his cousins caught after all. He had never found them since then; just left with the remains of the den he was raised in and a lot of unanswered questions that still burned in his mind to this day.

At this point, almost every borrower along his route knew who he was and didn't mind what he was doing; rarely did his people ever turn down the company of another of their kind. The first few houses never had much to report on due to being uninhabited by borrowers— but Oliver always checked, just in case a new family had moved in and wanted help settling or making sure the tunnels didn’t hide any nasty surprises.

He took off his backpack and pushed it through first to get through the next crack, shimmying though the tight space after it without much issue due to his lean figure. He threw it back over his shoulder as he walked across the uneven dirt ground between the first house and the next. He was wrapped up well for the weather so the winter air didn't bother him too much, although the cold nipped at his hooked nose. He let out a small sigh which turned to steam as it made contact with the frigid air, looking up, up, up at the brick foundation ahead.

“128 new houses…I have a long couple of months ahead of me…”

~~~

“How can nobody be affected?” groused the Doctor, shaking out his fingers from the light shock he'd received from the wiring he was poking at.

Zepheera, sat more openly on his shoulder now that they were alone in someone's basement, sighed and offered, “Maybe it's a good thing? Y'know, if people aren't seeing any effects, then it could just be harmless.”

“I don't see how it could be,” the Doctor insisted. “A signature potent enough to trip an alert on the TARDIS should have some kind of effect! And even if it were benign, I would still rather know than leave it to chance. Or else it's gonna bug me for the rest of time.”

“I see that.”

Despite her patient approach to the Doctor's gripes, Zepheera was beginning to feel just as restless. Sticking to his shoulder while he asked around the last handful of houses hadn't been any more rewarding than when they decided to split up. It had seemed like a good idea to check in with the local borrowers before, since there were certain things that humans could overlook. Small signs or changes in the air, anything that might occur outside of the notice of human beings.

Zepheera had very few opportunities to chat with other borrowers face to face. Not just because she spent all her time with a human look-alike of an alien, zipping around time and space. Even before then she'd been more of a recluse and found it difficult to relate to others of her kind, let alone grow close to them. 

Traveling with the Doctor sparked something new in her, however. His inability to pass by anyone he could help was starting to rub off on her, and she found that all the traveling allowed her to feel a certain degree of separation in these situations. The likelihood that they would run into the people they helped again was incredibly slim, all but eliminating the chance of forming any lasting connections. Somehow that made it much easier for Zepheera to throw herself into helping out any way she could.

She felt a bit bad about lying to the locals earlier, even if it was to earn their trust. They couldn't know she was involved with the Doctor, or they'd assume that it was a trick or a trap. Being just about twenty times bigger than borrowers, it was all too easy for humans to take advantage of the smaller folk. Zepheera still had a healthy caution toward any new humans and people of a similar scale out in the universe, but she knew that most borrowers went so far as to keep up a fearful mythos of humanity. It was better to be vague when interacting with her people than to cause unnecessary panic. 

Thankfully, it was easy for borrowers to accept one of their own simply passing through, and wouldn't be too thrown by a curious question or two. Though she had to admit, people in this area seemed particularly receptive. Expectant of it, even.

“Should've built a detector from the start,” grumbled the Doctor, interrupting Zepheera’s thoughts. “Soon as this is done, I'm going back to the TARDIS and doing just that!”

“Sounds good,” Zepheera said as she pushed herself up to stand at the edge of the Doctor’s shoulder. Even though she knew very little about wiring, she could tell he was nowhere near done, so she took a running start with what room she had, and leapt to a nearby shelf. “I'm gonna try another look around, just in case.”

The Doctor squawked indignantly. “What? You're gonna leave me alone with this??” He gave a nod toward his hands, and the aftermath of a battle between his fingers and a roll of electrical tape.

“Well, I'm hardly of help just sitting here,” Zepheera pointed out, tossing her hands up. “And I'm not the one who promised that bloke I'd fix his flickering lights.”

When he didn't have an argument against that point, Zepheera gave a sharp nod and began climbing down the side of the adjustable metal shelf.

“Don’t stay for tea this time,” he pressed, wrestling one hand free from the tangle of tape with a painted grunt. “I want to start on that detector right away.”

Zepheera rolled her eyes and assured him, “I won't. Meet you outside!” With that, she slipped into the shadows.

“What makes you think there's gonna be people here, anyway?” the Doctor called after her.

A slight pause came before she answered. Zepheera hadn't been in a position to notice any glaring signs of habitation from her perch on his shoulder, but given the way the previous family of borrowers not only expected company but assumed she was with someone who often came around this time of year…

“Call it a hunch!” rang out from the darkness out of the Doctor's sight.

[bramble-mouse]

Aine teasing my perpetually irate high elf rogue Sparrow with big tiddies. Art below the cut!

Minors do not interact!

[vt-scribbles]

“If you don’t like my company, then why do you keep coming to my temple, my dear?~”

>Artist [NSFW + KINK WARNING]<

Characters belong to me and @corrie-zodori!

[gianttol]

GT July - Panic

These characters were perfect for the panic prompt, I’m personally scared of deep water so I thought I’d try some spooks ><

[rose7420]

Trouble in Paradise?

Summary: Y/n gets into a terrifying situation when Loki sets his mischievous ways on her, and for what?

Requested by: @marvelfanfn2187a113 Enjoy!

Masterlist Of Rose7420

Y/n was in the mood for a classic today. The past week she had dived into a wonderful fantasy novel filled with dragons, swords, and a brutal fight between kingdoms. She walked down the shelf of books, her hand absentmindedly brushing the spines of the hardbacks. The library may not be a beach but it was her paradise. Her heart ached to read something fulfilling; to give her hope of maybe finding love one day and sharing her life with someone.

You see that was the problem of being a borrower. Love was a hard thing to nurture, or even find. Most borrowers secluded themselves from each other and when they did happen to come across a fellow they had to first trust each other.

From the books she had read already, it seemed with love came trust. You couldn’t have one without the other.

In other words she was completely screwed.

You probably thing she is talking about being in a romantic realtionship. Which yes, that would be nice to have, but in reality all she wants is a friend.

Her eye caught on a title sticking out a ways further than the others. Her feet barely made a whisper on the hardwood as she came to stand in front of it. Upon closer inspection, the name read, Pride and Prejudice. Jane Austen. What an odd title, she thought. Suddenly the shelf beneath her begins to shake. Her eyes went wide and she hid in the empty space beside Pride and Prejudice, provided by the absence of a novel.

Now that she was secure, she watched from a distance as a man, tall to even her tiny frame trudged in. In a pale hand, he held a light blue book. She noticed how large his hand had to be as it spanned almost the entirety of the novel. A chill went down her spine as she glanced to the novel right beside her, seeing how it towered over her. She could hear him muttering to himself as he walked closer to the shelf she stood upon. She glanced at the book in his hand again. With him closer to her she could clearly read the title:

Sense and Sensibility. Jane Austen.

Her eyes widened in shock as she registered that he was coming to put the book back in the very place she stood. A look behind her shoulder told her the books were pressed all the way to the end of the shelf; so there was no hope in slipping behind those. Her only choice was to let him put the book back where he found it and hope he didn’t crush her in the process.

His steps rattled her to the very bone as he came to stop right where she figured he would. The shelf she stood upon was thankfully not at eye level for him, more at chest level. She watched in slow motion as his hand descended to replace the book. Her hiding space was quickly filled, forcing her further towards the back until the scapula of her shoulders touched the hardwood. She guessed that the book might stick out a little with her in the way, but surely he wouldn’t mind? He was simply putting it back, once it was out of his grasp it would be out of his mind. Humans didn’t bother themselves with things that no longer benefitted them, right?

Apparently, she was wrong.

This man was adamant that he would make this book fit. He pushed it, making the pages smush into her face and chest. She had to turn her face sideways to avoid her nose being squished. After many failed attempts he started to retract the book. Her breath emptied from her very lungs.

No, no, no he couldn't find her!

“Loki?” A voice rang out from nowhere. Jarvis, Y/n thought.

The computer knew of Y/n living in the walls of the Tower and thankfully kept it under lock and key.

“What is it, you dimwit?” The man, presumed to be Loki, growled out in a scary, deep voice but halted his efforts at replacing the book. Her muscles relaxed with the lack of tension.

“Steve would like to know if you want to eat dinner with the team?” Jarvis replied politely as if Loki hadn’t just insulted them.

“No, I do not want to join those fools,” Loki growled again.

“Very well, enjoy your day sir.”

Loki sighed heavily and Y/n felt the vibrations of his steps as he retreated. She stayed still for several minutes as he ambled around the library to chose a book. After silence greeted her ears she gathered all her strength to push the clustered pages of the book just to gain enough room to slip out. When light greeted her face she breathed a sigh of relief and returned to her home in the walls.

Reading could wait until another day.

Loki returned that night to replace the book he picked that day with another one. There was nothing better to do in this Tower than reading. Watching that dread television made his eyes hurt from the artificial light of the bright screen. And he would rather watch TV than spend time with the others living in this tower. His steps echoed in the large room. He replaced the book and wandered around to find another one that sparked his interest. He then passed the shelf he’d been at earlier with the stubborn book. He looked back at it and saw that it stuck out, even more, a little gap between both books now. He pulled it from the shelf and held it in a palm. There was nothing wrong with the book so he looked at the shelf.

The space where it should have fit perfectly had nothing wrong with it at all. He leaned closer, practically pressing his nose into the space, and saw...footprints? Not just any footprints though, tiny footprints. What on earth could have left those, he pondered. He replaced the book which fit with no problem now and went in search of a new find.

Perhaps something on mythical creatures.

Y/n didn’t press her luck in the following days. She stayed sequestered in her home for as long as she could. She was a resourceful borrower and only needed to venture out for supplies every month. Though she was safe inside these walls, she became absolutely bored out of her mind. She had no books her size, hence why she went to the library all the time. And there was no way the novels would fit in her home. She had already mended as many clothes of hers as she could, taken a count of all her stocks, and cleaned the house from top to bottom. It was the next day when she decided to take a chance. If not from the want of pleasure but the fear of going insane.

She took a left when she closed the curtain of her home which would take her to the library. Going right would lead her to the kitchen and straight ahead was a passageway outside. She rarely used that one. Emerging from behind a bookshelf she breathed in the smell of the pages. It was familiar by now and sent joy running through her blood. She walked around for a moment trying to decide where she should start first. Her eyes roamed over a table set in the middle of the shelves. On top of it lay a book that read a familiar title.

Pride and Prejudice.

Her mind was made and she started climbing the table of the leg. She was thankful she’d remembered her little pickaxe that she kept on her belt.

It just made life easier.

She made that final pull onto the table and collapsed on her back to draw in a much-needed breath. Approaching the book, she realized that there was going to be a problem. The pages stacked together had to equal at least four inches. Which was twice her height. Most of the other books were manageable enough for her to open and read herself. She drew in another deep breath, grasping the edge of the cover, and lifted it over her head. Seeing that she had gotten this far, she planted her foot on the side to stabilize her self but she ended up losing her balance. Not giving up hope yet, this process was repeated several times. She was so engrossed in fact, that she didn’t notice Loki standing behind her until it was too late.

Loki had come back to return his book and noticed the little being perched on the table. He was surprised they didn’t notice his arrival until he saw what they were doing.

Or attempting to do.

In one fluid movement, he swept the book off the table and held it to his face. He relished the fear that the little one radiated as she stared up at him in absolute fear.

“Oh pardon me, were you trying to read that?” He teased. “It didn’t seem you were getting very far...you know you do have to open it before you can enjoy it.”

Her face became red and she looked away. He discarded the book on the table with a loud thump, startling the little person. She jumped out of her skin and backed away as he came closer to loom over her. He noticed how her eyes flicked over towards an area of the table as if searching for something. He followed her gaze and found two little tools that were too tiny to make out. As if seeing his plan in his eyes, she took off in a sprint to reach them before he did.

Which was impossible.

He casually reached over and plucked them right up.

“I don’t believe you’ll be needing those anymore.” He tucked them away in a snap of fingers to his own pocket realm. Reaching forward, he seized her by the waist and held her up to his eyes. “So you’re the little thing that got in in my way… hmmm?” He hummed.

She shook her head, her eyes wide and alert with terror.

“I don’t like liars Little One.” He warned, purposely making his voice deep.

She stayed silent though and refused to speak.

“It’s no matter really...take your time. I have the perfect place for you in the meantime.” He conjured a glass jar and set it on the table. When he started lowering the little thing in she went absolutely feral. she kicked, punched, clawed, and even bit at his fingers. He dropped her into the jar and held it up, right at his eyes to properly see her. Little palms were pressed against the glass and their eyes were teary. He noticed how ragged her clothes were, how they hung off her small frame. He glanced at her feet and saw they were bare. Pity gathered in his heart and he started to let her out, maybe give her some nice, warm clothes and a hot meal. But he needed to show her he was powerful and that he wasn’t a nobody. Such an easy task too for him to accomplish, for she was the tiniest being he’d ever laid eyes upon. So he screwed the top of the lid on and left her on the highest shelf. Surely a fall like that would kill her if she managed to get out of the jar.

He left the library making sure to grab a book on his way out.

Y/n huddled into herself her cries echoed in the glass jar making her even sadder each time they rang in her ear. She’d been absolutely powerless against this cruel man. He had manhandled her and treated her like a prisoner throwing her into the jar. Looking at the darkness of the room reminded how she viewed this room as her getaway. It brought her happiness and reminded her that there was good in this world.

But now all it did was remind her of how utterly alone and desperate she was. A tiny, insignificant being.

She hadn’t fought back against him from the advice of her long-dead parents. Her mother had advised her to stay calm and not fight back if a human ever did capture her. She had been terrified out of her wits when he’d picked the book up effortlessly when he’d thrown her only means of a safe escape away to where he only knew. And when he grabbed her suddenly like a toddler with a toy. She had been scared but hopeful. Then he pulled that jar out and she knew she was done for. So why not fight back?

Even worse was that she had hoped he may have been there to help her. For a brief moment, she had imagined them being friends and reading pals. Her cheeks burned in embarrassment from the thought now.

Her head started feeling fuzzy, and a weird tingling started in her toes and fingers. She noticed her breaths were shallow and she happened to look up and notice that the top of the jar had no air holes. Which meant she was slowly suffocating. She regretted all that crying she’d done earlier as she realized she used up all her air. Minute by minute her head felt even woozier. At some point, she had leaned against the glass wall eventually laying her entire body onto the cold floor. Darkness greeted her after that.

Laid out upon his bed, Loki snapped his book shut after an hour finding it dull and boring. He hadn’t taken much thought in his selection when he exited the library. Exiting his room and entering the library, he walked over to a shelf and inspected the titles there finding one a grabbing it to add to a pile. Eventually, he reached the shelf that housed the jar encasing the girl. He rose slightly on his tiptoes to see into the glass to see she was asleep. Viewing this as an opportunity to get a closer look, he wrapped a hand around the circumference and lowered her to his eye level. He took notice that there was a strange stillness to her body. No rise or fall to her chest or the simple shifting most did while sleeping. In a flash of horrendous realization, he registered that he’d forgotten to give her air holes.

The books he held in the opposite hand were dropped from his grasp as he immediately went to unscrew the lid. He tipped the jar to let her limp body fall into his palm. His heart ached when he saw how utterly small she was in his hand.

He would never forgive himself he killed this tiny being. He waits several agonizing minutes for her to wake up dropping himself into a chair.

In a moment of clarity, he realizes how wrong he had been with his actions. She had only wanted to read the book and the determination in her body as she tried and tried again even though each try was as futile as the last. Maybe when she had looked upon him a sudden relief had filled her veins seeing that maybe he was there to help her. She could have waited patiently as he opened the cover for her and gave her something to smile about. Perhaps he could have found a book of his own and immersed himself in the words. Only reaching over to flip a stubborn page for the girl every now and then when she shyly asked for his help.

But he would never know.

At last, she starts to stir awake with blinking eyes and sluggish movements. After a few moments, she seems to grasp where she’s located. A whimper escapes her lips and she scrambles away from him only to hit his curled fingers bouncing back from them to land on her rear. Loki’s heart fills with pity and grief and he reaches forward to offer a finger and help her up.

“Please no! Please no! I-I’m sorry!” She cries out covering her head with her arms and burying herself into a tiny ball upon his palm. He can feel how her body trembles violently.

How disappointed Frigga would be with him right now?

“No, shush it’s okay. Don’t apologize.” Loki comforts. The girl only shakes her head and tries to get further away from his face.

“What’s your name?” He asks in an attempt for conversation.

She doesn’t answer.

“How old are you my dear?” She looks no older than a teenager to him.

She doesn’t answer that either.

Loki holds back a grumble in fear he’d make the situation worse by expressing his irritation. He looks up from his palm to the discarded jar on the table. He winces at the sight. But he sees Pride and Prejudice. He glances back down to his palm and sees that she still cries. On a whim, he opens the book and starts reading.

“It is a truth universally acknowledged that a single man in possession of a good fortune must be in want of a wife.” Loki reads.

Her cries quiet and are reduced to sniffles. So he continues.

“However little known the feelings or views of such a man be on his first entering a neighborhood, this truth is so well fixed in the minds of the surrounding families, that he is considered as the rightful property of some or other of their daughters.”

He looks down at the small girl and sees that her eyes are no longer leaking deep tears, but focused on the book he holds. He cradles her to his chest to hold the book with one hand.

He continues through one chapter and sets the book down to ask her name again.

“I-It’s Y/n. A-and I’m 13.” She squeaks. Loki resists the urge to hold her closer to his chest. All he wants to do now is comfort the child.

“Please let me apologize for my actions earlier my dear.” He says softly letting her walk off his palm onto the table. He stands and kneels to make her feel more comfortable.

“Why were you so mean?” She asks, daring to meet his eyes then ducking her head down quickly again.

Loki runs a hand through his hair, a nervous tick he had begun to realize.

“You’re small, it was easy to think I h-had some sort of control over you. I didn’t realize the severity of my actions until it was too late.” Voicing his actions, thoughts, and feelings out loud made him feel even more like a dick. He now purposely avoided her gaze.

She cleared her throat. He looked up to see why. Standing straight, her back defying the laws of gravity she looked him directly in the eye.

Unafraid.

Which was total bullshit as her voice shook when she spoke next.

“As you have seen Loki, I can’t open the book by myself. If you would continue to read to me and help me out I would forgive you.”

Loki was uncertain. Make-ups were never that easy.

“That is all?” He asked with a questionable tone.

Her posture relaxed slightly and she stepped forward, completely engulfed in his enormous shadow.

“Look, we all make mistakes. I’m not here to judge. You did almost kill me but I see kindness in you. And possibly a friend. Perhaps we can be there for each other…” Y/n finished with a suggestive tone.

Loki thought for a moment and took a chance. He nodded and watched as Y/n extended her pointer finger. He raised his eyebrows in surprise but took it between his fingers and shook.

“Now if you could please continue reading, I haven’t got all day.” She continued to walk up to his arm and reclined her back upon it, looking up at him expectantly. He opened the book and began to read feeling pressured.

“Mr. Bennet was among the earliest of those who waited on Mr. Bingley.”

He glanced down at Y/n who stared at the book with bright eyes.

Oh, this was going to be fun, Loki thought.

[angel12-7274]

Ryan: So, did I up-grade from stranger to personal heater?

Angel: Maybe...

Ryan: You know, you could use my coat instead

Angel: What, trying to get rid of me already?

Ryan: Nope, you just snore really loud

Angel: No I don’t

Ryan: I got proof XD

*loud snoring plays on device*

Angel: Shut up...

These two characters are part of a book that I am currently writing. The smoll is Angel, She/Her pronouns, 21 years old, Human. The tall is Ryan, He/Him pronouns, 22 years old, Half Orc and Human. Angel and Ryan are not a cupule, they are just best friends. Now I really want to tell yall more but I would spoil the book so I don’t want to spill the beans. These two dummies are my OCs, they are my over grown spoiled babies. But!!! I do need some help from yall. You see, I’m stuck and I would love if yall would send asks or requests that deals with these two because I want to make sure that yall would enjoy them as much as I do in writing them. I don't like vore, but I do fear or high emotions. Also I will try to add warnings on things like gore, language, sad boi hours etc.

P.S. This took me way too long to do this. My dog Polar Bear decided that my pen for my tablet tasted really good. So now I have a kinda working pen, but only when it wants to work. So I might be slow but you can bet your buns that I will try to push content out. if you want me to tag you in my things just ask me and I will make a list.

[eclipsisnevermore]

This is my borrower OC, Rosalinda. If you have any criticisms, let me know! I take it well.