#g/t angst
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Sweet Nothings
What can a giant's promises be but empty when they are given after having stolen the tiny away from her home?
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"Shhhh, shhhh, you're alright," came the rumbling croon, a gentle yet still overwhelming pressure brushing softly against her fragile back.
She buried her face further into her knees, arms wrapped tight around her calves and fingers digging crescent's into the meat of her thighs. It did little to mitigate her trembling.
"I'll take care of you," the voice soothed, once more stroking along her shivering spine.
A single set of tears spilled past her cheeks, dampening the threadbare cloth of her pants. She desperately withheld a whimper, clamping her lips tight as her chin quivered and her throat strained.
Her attempts did not matter; her captor noticed anyway. "Don't cry," he whispered, cupping her further between his undeniably monstrously-sized palms.
She squeezed her eyes shut, huddling more tightly in on herself and flinching as the soft touch against her back returned.
"You'll be happier, with me," her kidnapper murmured, and she could not tell if the words were more for her or for himself. Either version would not make the supplication any less of a lie.
Her chest heaved and stuttered with her aborted breaths, her bottom lip pulled between her teeth to stave off the worst of it.
The giant shushed her again, oh-so-comfortingly, sweetly, promising, "I shall give you whatever your heart so desires." His fingertip brushed gently against the back of her delicate neck, and she flinched at the touch. The attempt to soothe felt like nothing but a threat, an emphasis on the disparity between their sizes. His promises were worth less than that. How could they be more when she knew them to be so bitterly, laughably, untrue? For she knew he would never free her, and that was the only wish her tremulous heart so covetously, now cruelly, desired.
"Nobody will ever hurt you again," he lovingly crooned, gently stroking her trembling sides with a finger as long as she was tall. It was a bastardization of comfort for her, an unwanted touch.
If only she was brave enough to answer his words. To reason that her life had not been made of just hurt, and even the hurt had been proof that she had been living - had been alive. What was human nature, but for a struggle in life to achieve their self-destined goals? And so she had struggled, perhaps more than most - certainly more than many - but it had not meant that she ever, ever wished to be taken away from it all. From her life, from her people, from her home.
If she had the courage, she would rise to her feet and glare up to her captor, this leviathan monster disguised as man. She would jab a finger up to him and shout and rage that he was hurting her, far deeper than most, as this pain went to her very soul instead of only skin deep.
What did it matter if he outwardly treated her gently - if even his capture of her had left her with nary a bruise - if his very actions in and of themselves rent her heart to shattered pieces.
It did not matter, and it never would. She would never trust this giant and his sweet nothings, his gentle touches, for he had made it clear from the very beginning that he saw her as something lesser than.
To him, she was nothing but a doll, one to be picked up - to be 'rescued' - from the dirt and carried away, heedless to her protests, to her autonomy or to her desires.
No, she would not fall for his sweet nothings, for his entreaties, for his meaningless platitudes. Not for this giant who had stolen her away from her life as if it had meant nothing. She could never forgive such an irreparable, callous cruelty.
And as she curled up tightly in his cupped palm, feeling his thunderous heartbeat through the bare soles of her dirt-stained feet... she dully wondered if her forgiveness would even mean anything to him at all.
~~~~~~~~~~
;( kjsjhf BIG sad, mah bad. Highkeeeey wanted to make it so the giant does have a legit reason? Or at least thought he did bc of some misunderstanding or smthn - but for now, here's some more unresolved angst! :D
but fr this was uhh a lil (a lot) depressing ngl, but uhhh ye hopefully you liked?? :DDDD *sweats*
#g/t#g/t community#giant tiny#giant/tiny#gt writing#g/t angst#unintentional fearplay#sweet nothing#tw kidnapping#g/t writing#depresso espresso#angst
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My Borrowed Son | 16 | Friends and Curiosities
Chapter Sixteen | Friends and Curiosities
Parker couldn’t believe it. Within such a short amount of time, he suddenly had a dozen followers and friends on his page.
Sure, he didn’t know them personally, but everyone was welcoming and polite – two things he was eager to report to his mom when she expressed concern. The miniscule boy also made sure his mom knew he was being safe, not giving out too much personal information, and that the topic of his condition hadn’t even been brought up.
One person commented on his profile picture being interesting, which was a picture of Parker standing in front of his computer screen, but he just explained it was a background and that he wanted to showcase the platform he was publishing on. Karl was the kid’s name, and evidently he and Parker were the same age.
All in all, Parker was pleased with his interactions and the people he was meeting. Lots of them had advice and things for him to check out, and he liked all of the things he was seeing.
There were sketches of space and vast mountains as well as the everyday interactions. There were hundreds of stories from writers just like him.
It felt nice. It felt like some kind of community with people supporting and helping one another. A sense of satisfaction filled the young teen every time he checked his notifications and saw he was getting the chance to meet someone new.
“Just look here, mom,” said Parker eagerly as he showed his mom the latest post he made. “It has almost fifteen likes!” He looked up into his mom’s features and saw her beaming with pride.
“That’s so great, Parker,” she complemented. “Are you going to post your latest story from Mr. Tamplin’s class?”
“I… think so. I don’t know yet though. It doesn’t feel done,” he replied, feeling his cheeks getting warm. The latest story he came up with for Mr. Tamplin’s class was a fiction fantasy story about a sprite named Tal’el. It essentially was his backstory for the Dungeons and Dragons campaign he and his friends started.
Basically, he was a small fairy-like person who was a poison master for his people until he decided he wanted to go out adventuring and exploring. The Dungeon Game Master said it was fine if he played a smaller character, thankfully not questioning why he would want to do such a thing and found a special class for him to play as.
The story actually won a young adult author award for his class and Parker had Mr. Tamplin to thank since it was he who tutored him through his writing slumps. He was now refining it for his literature class.
“Well, don’t be scared to post it sweetie. You’re such a great writer and can do whatever you set your mind to,” encouraged his mom. “Now before you get sucked into checking your notifications, finish your homework and get ready for bed. You have a long day tomorrow.”
“Yes, momma,” Parker replied, rolling his screen back into place in the main area. The structure walls rumbled as his mom closed the outside walls to his home. It was hard to believe it had been a whole month since he “moved in” to this new space.
Parker loved it, in a weird way.
Not to sound ungrateful, but having his own space to roam around, especially in a space that felt suited to him, made him feel just a little bit normal. He liked that he was usually at eye-level with his mom instead of having her loom over him. Just the thought made him shudder involuntarily, and he wasn’t sure why.
It made him feel guilty every time the sensation seized him.
But, now was not the time to dwell on that. It was time for bed.
Parker walked into his room and rummaged through his dresser to find his oversized space t-shirt and elastic band sleep shorts. Then, he went back to the computer and finished submitting his assignments. The words filled the page and Parker hoped that his paper on the evolution of technology was going to be good enough to get him the grade he needed.
Parker’s other assignments were a breeze. Math was simple enough and the biology project about documenting the growth of plants was going smoothly. It was his other project, his story for his literature course, that he was worried about. It was his same story that he was using for his channel, but it was more a mild fear of rejection and lack of perfection.
His online friends liked it, but would his teacher? His followers?
Parker sighed and leaned against the wall before slinking down further into the chair. His eyes focused on the blinking line in front of him as he stared at the end of the fifth chapter he had been editing. Something about this story felt particularly personal, but Parker remembered hearing once about how writers put more of themselves than they’re aware of when they’re making characters and stories.
Perhaps this was just part of that feeling?
The teen sighed and stretched when, suddenly, his lights flickered up above him.
Confusion injected itself into his mind as he stared at the wired lights on the ceiling. His eyes flicked over to the wall switch.
Perhaps just a fluke?
The notion was dismissed when the lights flickered two more times, all of his lights dimming and glowing systematically.
Something raised the hair on the back of Parker’s neck. He felt like he was on pins and needles, the anticipation of a drop while suspended in mid-air. Cautiously, the curious teen stood up and walked over to the switch, examining it closely.
It was still up and wasn’t jiggling or loose.
The lights flickered again.
It felt like he was in a spooky movie, of which Parker had only ever seen one in his life along with a couple of older “thrillers” like Alien and Jaws. Even those movies were censored because his mom didn’t want him to get too spooked.
Was there something wrong with the plug?
Parker glanced at the window at the back by the stairs and, just for a moment, he could have sworn he saw something.
It looked like the quick flick of a shadow.
It was quick and Parker wasn’t even sure if he knew what he saw. He did just step out of his room after all, and he had been staring at his computer screen, which he knew sometimes made shadows appear when there weren’t any.
He held deathly still, his entire body locking up like a perfect figurine. His body fell naturally into the position as he slowly crouched and laid his hand against the floor, as if he could detect any trembling or motion.
He didn’t get a chance to investigate for long though. Before he could make his way to the stairs in his crouched position, there was a knock on the table that made Parker nearly jump out of his skin.
“Parker? Are you going to bed soon?” Parker’s entire body shivered as he pushed himself upright and heaved in a few deep breaths. Every nerve in his body felt electrified. While his heart continued to thrum rapidly, he cleared his throat and called over his shoulder to his mom as the sides of the walls began to open.
“Y-y-yeah, mom. I’m ready for bed,” said Parker. He glanced up at the lights stayed on without the slightest hint of a flicker. The walls opened fully and, instantly, Parker saw his mom’s brow furrow quizzically.
“Everything okay? You look a bit pale,” she said. The maternal instinct in Amanda kicked in and she reached forward and pressed the tip of her finger against Parker’s forehead. He shied away from it, which was typical teenage behavior, but something else felt off about Parker that Amanda couldn’t quite place.
“Y-yeah. I’m fine. I just…” Parker stopped short. It felt like something physically squirmed in his mind, preventing him from saying something about the shadow and the lights. He shook the notion loose, confused as to why this instinct flared up in him, and proceeded with his thought. “I just saw the lights flicker and got spooked.”
“Oh?” Amanda replied as she glanced over and looked down at the power strip that fed electricity into Parker’s Place. Nothing looked off about it to her, but she still knelt and glanced around the ground.
Still nothing.
“Well,” she sighed as she stood and walked back over to the front of Parker’s tiny home. “I don’t see anything. It looks like it’s all plugged in, but we’ll check on it tomorrow. Okay? For now, it’s bedtime.”
“Yes, momma,” replied Parker as he walked up to the edge and accepted the kiss on his torso that his mom gave him. With that, Amanda smiled and watched as Parker curled under the blankets, forming an almost imperceptible lump in the bed. “Goodnight momma. I love you.”
“I love you too, Parker. Sweet dreams my love.” Amanda closed the walls and secured them tightly before tiptoeing out of the room and to her own room to turn in for the night.
Just in the other room, Parker laid there with his heart still fluttering nervously. Everything in him was still on edge, and the curiosity of what was going on with his lights was really bothering him. Parker enjoyed a good mystery or puzzle, but he generally liked ones he could solve.
This one wasn’t solved yet.
For what felt like a couple of hours, Parker tossed and turned in his bed as a mixture of homework assignments and curiosities about the power outlet swirled like a mist in his mind. The more the young teen thought, the more it annoyed him that he didn’t have the answers.
He had had enough.
Parker pushed himself up and decided to go and check out the source of the flickering lights. If it was a cable going bad or possibly the breaker being loose, he needed to get a new one as soon as possible. It would be terrible if he was in class and his power went out. His mom said they would do it in the morning, but Parker knew himself; and he knew he couldn’t sleep if he didn’t at least go and see it for himself.
He couldn’t afford to not check it out with his presentation tomorrow.
The teen stepped noiselessly through his house and exited the front door. As he walked around, he noticed a few things that just seemed, in a word, natural.
Sound was amplified. The darkness in the corners of the room seemed brighter. He could feel every tremble in the desk from his footsteps.
As he made it outside, a choice presented itself to him. For a moment, he considered going down the climbing line he installed himself on the backside of the desk.
But he knew if he slipped on the rope and got hurt, which he never did, his mom would make him take down the line.
He decided to risk it.
It was late. She was asleep. Parker was as sure footed as a goat and knew he would be fine all the way down. The temptation was also too great for the teen to resist. Plus, it would be a lot faster.
There was something about the experience that was, in a word, liberating. The free fall. The catch. The feel of the rope in between his fingers.
It felt natural.
The urge to climb and fall and hide never failed to fascinate parker. Whether it was something his condition genetically programmed him to do so or if it was some personality trait he possessed, he didn’t know.
What he did know was the sensation was addictive and he was itching for a good climb.
Parker snagged the line in between his fingers and leaned over the edge of the desk. There was a mild sense of vertigo that swelled inside him, but he loved it. The weightlessness seized him as he let himself slip over the edge, hands and feet firmly in place and secured on the line.
The line burned against the teen’s palms and against his legs as he quickly descended. It felt like something a secret agent would do, and it felt epic.
The moment Parker’s feet hit the ground, he felt himself instinctually look around and crouch low. Silently, he stepped across the planks of wood that constructed the floor and walked toward the power strip that was only a few feet away. The whole thing was four times Parker’s size, but he navigated through the wires with ease.
His hands worked quickly to check the buttons and reset panels, and the teen could find nothing wrong with any of it.
Perhaps something is up with the electrical cover in the wall? Parker wondered silently. He jumped over the stiff cord that led to the wall and approached the trim on the wall which had small notches in it, so he didn’t need to snag a ladder.
As he approached, Parker noticed something by the very base of the electrical cover that made his hair stand on end.
It was a drill bit.
Flat head.
It was a tad bit rusty, and Parker didn’t recognize it from his mom’s kit that she used to help construct his space. He approached and picked it up, realizing it wasn’t as heavy as he thought it would be. In his hands, it was about twice the size of the drill that his mom used, and he realized he could probably carry it around easy enough; but where did it come from?
I don’t think this is mom’s drill bit. How’d it get here?
Parker glanced up at the electrical cover and felt his heart skip a beat as he noticed the screw for the wall socket was protruding from the wall ever so slightly.
His entire body was shaking now, but he wasn’t sure why.
Had his mom messed with the electrical cover with some old tools that she forgot about?
It didn’t seem like her.
Parker stepped up on the trim, balancing precariously and using the cord to stabilize himself, as he pushed on the very bottom of the electrical cover.
With almost no effort, the piece wiggled free and the screw clattered to the ground. The end looked a lot shorter than the others. He knew because he helped his mom replace the covers a few weeks ago.
The young teen took a few deep breaths to calm himself before he dared to peek inside. Engulfing darkness belonging to the wall consumed his vision. There was something exciting and enticing about the darkness in front of him.
It felt, in a word, familiar.
But why?
Parker felt his head beginning to throb as his mind stirred some fragmented memory, but it was hazy and distant.
What really set the teen on edge, however, was when he dared to push himself up onto the ledge to peer better into the wall and noticed something else that made his insides fill with nervous energy.
There was something that looked like a pencil mark. Two lines with a triangle on top followed by a little check mark on the inside. To Parker, it looked like a kid’s drawing of a house with a check mark inside of it.
Was this something his mom did?
Or was this some kind of construction mark?
What was this?
What did it mean?
The teen stared at the marks and then back to the darkness of the wall. Just like the shadows of the room when he stepped out of his house, the looming abyss of those narrow spaces between the walls didn’t seem very dark. It almost seemed inviting.
There was something about that confined space between the drywall and the studs and exterior boards that made Parker feel like he was back in his space. It was familiar.
But why?
Parker hadn’t realized that he had been learning forward to the point where he was barely hanging onto the edge of the electrical cover and leaning into the walls. It took the sound of his foot skidding against the wood and nearly tumbling headfirst into the space in front of him.
Startled and shaken, Parker pulled himself back out of the entryway into the walls, forced the electrical cover back onto its perch, and hurried back to his room. He was in such a tizzy, the young teen didn’t even realize he had gone straight to the secured line he left and climbed up it in record time, ignoring the staircase mere feet away.
His little feet barely made noise as he scurried back to his room, securing the door and slipping under his covers without so much as a squeak.
Parker’s mind was racing. What was that he just saw? And what was that weird draw he had toward the walls?
Hopefully, his mom would have the answers.
First thing in the morning, he would ask her. She would make everything better, right?
~~~~~^*^*^*^*^~~~~~
Continue
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Beginning
#borrower#g/t#g/t community#borrowers#giant/tiny#handheld#giant tiny#tiny#giant#gianttiny#the borrowers#gt community#gentle giant#My Borrowed son#gt fluff#sfw gt#sfw#sfw g/t#sfw giant/tiny#Parker#g/t concept#g/t comfort#g/t characters#g/t writing#g/t fluff#size difference#g/t idea#g/t interaction#g/t author#g/t angst
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#giant/tiny#g/t art#g/t angst#g/t community#g/t related#Lucent'sArt#size difference#look who we have here#plucked up like it's nothing
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Choose Your Fighter
#g/t#my art#giant/tiny#macro/micro#gianttiny#g/t ocs#size difference#g/t fluff#g/t angst#g/t community#g/t scenario#g/t art#handheld#borrowers#fearplay#g/t fearplay#whump#g/t whump#we all know which side my bread is buttered
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Just imagine me tossing this comic out to you guys like I'm feeding pigeons on a park bench.
pspspspsp - Come get some angst.
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This has been sitting in my drafts for so long and I am just so happy to post it and stop obsessing over the facial anatomy that I flubbed.
#The fact I'm actually making a dent in my wips is astounding#who even am i#poor man is my angst punching bag#I swear he can be happy#g/t#giant/tiny#g/t art#g/t artist#entodraws#G/t angst#g/t comic#whump#AedesOC#JuneOC#sfw g/t#sfw giant/tiny#Bite Me
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Liddol man 🥺
#g/t#giant/tiny#g/t ocs#macro/micro#gianttiny#g/t commissions#gianttiny commissions#commissions are open#g/t angst#g/t fearplay#g/t whump#whump art#whump
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G/t thought
Yeah, yeah, I love all the fluff and all the borrower/human and human/giant friendly stories and all the disappearing fear and friendship building, but… sometimes I need some angst. Some trauma. Some realistic fear. A borrower who has witnessed a human hurting/killing another borrower will not trust the human easily. Maybe the human/giant does something out of order when their angry. Or maybe they're just evil and don't care how they make the tiny feel. Hell, maybe they even like it when they're scared.
I live for some good angst.
#g/t#giant/tiny#gt related#giant tiny#gt community#g/t concept#g/t writing#gt#g/t related#g/t angst#g/t scenario#gianttiny#giant#g/t community#g/t fearplay#g/t idea
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"Cc we're sorry, just .... please don't be scared, I promise we won't hurt you..."
based on @kix-mm's story here
DAMM, I never knew I needed gt throuples in my life till now!! decided to draw one of the scenes in the story. AAAH THE STORY WAS SO GOOD!! The amount of love they have for each other is just so fricking sweet!! and how much you can tell A and B cherish C and want them in their lives
anyways kix is a really good writer, bye >:]
#g/t#giant/tiny#gt community#gt#gentle giant#g/t drawing#g/t fluff#giant tiny#g/t community#gt fearplay#fearplay#hurt/comfort#g/t comic#g/t angst#gt angst#polyamory#honestly reading it made me feel all giddy inside
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Concept:
Tinies that cannot speak or understand language at all. They're still intellegent, they just never evolved the capacity for language because large societies are discovered and do not survive.
When a human has them cornered, the tinies can't beg or shout, so... they hiss. It's meant to imitate a snake and is supposed to be threatening. (It does actually work on most of the predators they encounter)
But for humans, it just sounds like a bottle of soda being opened... But weaker, smaller and somehow less threatening. Often times, this ends up backfiring: The human hears their weak little hisses and instantly feels responsible for the tiny, helpless person they've terrified.
Meanwhile, the (absolutely traumatized) tiny is trying to figure out if the human is calling their bluff, or if humans are so powerful and terrifying that they just... Think snakes are cute???
#g/t concept#g/t writing#g/t fluff#g/t fearplay#g/t#borrowers#tinies#g/t angst#giant/tiny#g/t community#Tinies hissing
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Turning Giant Panic
So we all know the scenes where a character turns into a giant and the freaks out. Usaully theres a part where the turing giant reachs out for help only to retrack because they realize how much bigger their hand/they are now. Usually when a person panics they arent thinking straight. Give me a person who is turning giant who is panic so badly they even tho they are so much bigger now the still reach out for someone anyone to help them.
Imagne them grabbing their friend/loved one even tho there so small now and BEGGING them to do something anything to make it stop or to explain whats happening to them. The helplessness of both the turning giant not knowing what to do and not realizing how badly they are freaking everyone else out and the friend/loved one who cant do anything about what is happening to their now giant friend and is now freaking out to
Oh the Angst
#g/t#g/t scenario#giant/tiny#g/t angst#g/t idea#gt#g/t sfw#size shifter#sfw giant tiny#giant#g/t writing#g/t discussion
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Thinking about emotional size shifters again, but... what about size shifters who's default size isn't human?
Tiny who's doing their best to fit in with human society and the emotion that grows them is anxiety. Easy enough, they think, they have plenty of that, and it won't exactly stand out with human society. But they find someone who's just so trustworthy, so calm, so casual about everything it is just contagious, and sitting next to that friend, their size just starts fading away to reveal they're a borrower the second they close their eyes...
Giant who shrinks with satisfaction. It takes some practice, but they learn to accept what they have. To go with the flow... to live within their means. Never taking life too fast.
But, they've got this new friend... they're growing closer to the human, wanting to see more of them... Constantly noticing a slight growth spurt oncoming, having to take breaks from their company, going into the bathroom for some privacy and taking deep breaths...
But their desire for them just gets too overwhelming, as their friend says something, does that little tic of theirs, or is simply focused on a hobby, and they realize they just can't accept this. They can't just be friends. They'll never be satisfied with this, they need MORE.
Their friend being bowled over by their hands as they grow to fill the office break room, their hot breath washing over their friend, the friend not knowing what to say out of fear, the giant, just being too unused to this discontent to have any clue what to say.
#macro#micro#g/t#giant/tiny#g/t related#g/t rambles#g/t hear me out#g/t fluff#g/t angst#g/t fearplay
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I drew one of @entomolog-t g/t ideas!!
I rlly liked the idea they had and HAD to draw it, if you wanna go read the original post I’ll paste it at the bottom of this post ( you should def go read it for context btw ), also in the og post the monster was a werewolf but istg i couldn’t draw one so I made de monster some kind of imp, but yk what he came out looking real good so idc
Anyways the drawing in question
Btw I RLLY liked this characters and their dynamic so I would love to post more abt them, would you guys be more interested in seeing more of them?? Also, here are the designs for the characters, I rlly liked them and feel like the exaggerated expressions don’t bring justice to them so
OG STORY:
#g/t#g/t angst#g/t art#g/t au#g/t community#g/t concept#g/t drawing#g/t fluff#g/t idea#g/t meme#g/t scenario#g/t related#sfw g/t#g/t writing#g/t ocs#fear play#size difference#giant/tiny#size shifter
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Okay, we know Oliver isn't scared of James but.. what if James (accidentally or not) actually did something that would scare the shit outta Oliver? Make Oliver feel totally vulnerable and terrified?
We really need to see their angst!
(love your work🥰)
You guys asked for it. Ironically @justme315 also just made a post whilst I was in the middle of writing it about wanting some good angst-- hopefully this is filling enough.
I also tied this into the injury prompt 31 which was requested!
31) "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry."
Word count: 1,685
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“We all make mistakes, James. It's a part of life. You shouldn't hold onto that guilt forever. You said yourself that Emily forgave you for—”
“Emily forgiving me doesn't fix anything! Fuck, Oliver— I… I don't want your therapy-speak right now, it's just pissing me off!” James interrupted, a slight growl in his tone as he levelled a half-glare in the borrower's direction. His hands gestured as he spoke to emphasise his point. He knew Oliver was only trying to help, but he always made it sound so simple when life just wasn't like that.
Oliver winced at the volume but didn't let it bother him too much, sensing that if he told James to quiet down that might just aggravate him further. He focused instead on what James said. Therapy-speak?
“That's…just how I speak, James. I'm sorry if it made things worse, I’ll try to…hm.” He paused, thinking over what to do to fix his speech in the moment. “I’ll try not to say too many words. I understand that can be overwhelming for some people when they're in distress. My apologies.”
James groaned, slamming an elbow onto the edge of the table as he buried his face in one of his hands for a moment. He looked up, brows furrowing with irritation clear in his expression. “You are literally doing it right now—”
Oliver bristled.
“Oh. I'm…sorry. I'm just trying to communicate clearly so my intentions and feelings aren't misunderstood.” He hesitated again for a moment as he tried to figure out what about his speech was therapy-speak. Did James not want comfort..? But then what was Oliver supposed to do? He certainly wasn't going to participate in James's self-loathing. He offered a reassuring smile. “How would you like me to speak? I just want to help.”
James inhaled slowly before letting out a huff, closing his eyes and burying his face in both hands now. Rather than answering Oliver he stayed like that; silent, annoyed but trying to hold it back. He knew Oliver just wanted to help— but sometimes that just made James feel worse because Oliver had it all figured out and James didn't.
Sometimes he admired Oliver so much, but other times he felt so jealous. Even now, James knew that he was being the bad guy. Oliver wasn't a malicious person and clearly only cared but James really didn't want care right now. He wanted to shout and yell and throw things and collapse in a corner and cry to himself as the thought of one drink wouldn't hurt kept replaying in his mind over and over again.
Sometimes he just needed that time to get it all out so it wouldn't keep bubbling up inside of him, and Oliver was the one who was keeping him from that. Ultimately neither option would fix the relationships he had broken, so it didn't matter which one he picked, right? Self-destruction was probably some fucked up form of self-love in some way.
“I’m sorry—” Oliver began, feeling slightly on edge seeing James be so quiet and simply assuming, correctly, that he had spoken wrong again. He didn't like the feeling at all. He hadn't felt it before when facing an angry human; even angry dangerous humans; because James was his friend and he wasn't used to seeing him in that way. It felt wrong.
And something was clearly wrong because before Oliver could react, he was snatched up into a fist and lifted up to eye level. The position he was grabbed in was less than comfortable, and Oliver had been startled seeing the movement come from someone who hadn't really grabbed him much since their first meeting. Fully facing James's glare felt almost akin to staring down a gun barrel and Oliver felt nervous despite himself.
“Would you shut up?!! I didn't ask you for help or advice, so stop fucking telling me how I’m supposed to fucking feel!! I'm not stupid— I already know that this isn't bloody productive, but for God sake Oliver, you don't know shit about what I've done!!” James knew he was taking out his anger at himself on Oliver right now, but he just wanted him to stop trying.
Oliver grimaced at the further increase in volume, especially from up close. Even after the shouting and swearing though he could still only see that his friend was suffering and all he wanted to do was help. James might not want it, but he needed it at that moment… He needed to break free of these self-destructive patterns.
“I know you aren't a monster.” He responded simply, and despite his slight unease Oliver still managed to meet James's gaze with his own; seeing right through him and into the hurt that was beneath all of the anger. He could see how watery his friend's gaze was.
And that was what made James snap.
He just wanted to get a reaction— some confirmation of his own thoughts and feelings about himself. He wasn't thinking straight.
James squeezed his hand slightly.
He regretted it in the same second he did it, breath hitching and his hand immediately dropping back down to the table and releasing Oliver onto it like a reflex. His expression of anger quickly became one of horror as he processed the small crack he had heard and felt when he had squeezed. Oliver always seemed so invincible that the harsh reminder that he wasn't hit James like a ton of bricks.
“I'm sorry. I'm so sorry.” James gasped, blinking quickly to try to keep the water out of his eyes. Why did I do that? Why on Earth did I do that?? His hand covered his mouth slightly seeing Oliver's alarmed and dazed expression as he raised his arm and looked upon his newly broken wrist. I did that. Oh god.
“I'm…fine…” The borrower uttered slowly, still focused on the injury. The adrenaline rush was likely responsible for the numbness he felt buzzing through his whole body and keeping the pain from being unbearable, so he was fine. For now. His voice wavered slightly and he found it difficult to look up at his friend at the moment.
Is this fear? Why am I afraid..? James is my friend, and this was an accident. He wasn't trying to break anything I'm sure… Oliver brought his other hand up to cradle the injury only to notice his hand was shaking. Not just his hand…his whole body. No. I can't be scared. It will only make things worse…
Oliver looked down at his shoes, trying to gather himself again but failing miserably.
“I.. I'm sorry that I hurt you so much, James. I don't mean to.” He felt something wet roll down his cheek and drip onto the floor. Stunned by the fact that he was crying right now, Oliver wiped it off with his uninjured hand before looking at his slightly dampened fingertips with a furrowed brow of confusion.
“Fuck. Oliver don't apologise, I…” James trailed off. He had never seen Oliver shake or cry before— and even if Oliver was still talking fine James could hear the fear in his voice. “I can help. Just—”
As he reached forward to offer Oliver a hand and take him to where the medical supplies were kept, the usually stoic borrower suddenly backpedalled, stumbling back so suddenly that he ended up falling backwards and onto his behind. James's hand snapped back like it had been burned and his lips pressing into a stressed line.
Oliver's heart was pounding as he stared up at James. He had never been like this before, and he didn't like it at all… I need to get a hold of myself. It was an accident. It was an accident… Despite him assuring himself of that again and again his mouth felt dry as he met James's horrified gaze. He was reminded of the glare that had been there only moments ago.
“It…it was an accident. You wouldn't break anything on purpose… It was a mistake.” He murmured to himself, shoulders bunching up and knees being brought closer to his chest. Even when other humans had given him similar injuries, Oliver had never felt like this. He hesitated, looking down again. “Could I have some medical supplies?”
James stood up quickly, wincing as he saw Oliver flinch in response. He opened his mouth to apologise again before deciding against it and quickly going to the kitchen to retrieve the first aid kit. You haven't changed. Even after everything you haven't changed.
He took a deep breath to try to settle his nerves as he grabbed everything needed and walked back in. Oliver was still sitting in the same position; still not looking at him. I took it for granted again. James set the kit down before resting his hands on the edge of the table. He bit his lip.
“Can I help..?” He asked, desperate to try and right his wrong at least a little. He deflated as he saw Oliver's small shake of the head.
“I would like to be alone for a while, please. I..I don't like how I'm feeling at the moment…” Oliver spoke and James hated how he could hear the nervous trembles in his voice. Still, he nodded, standing up more slowly this time. As he looked down at his friend from this position it became clear just how small and vulnerable he was… He blinked again but it didn't help with the tears this time as one simply rolled down his cheek anyway.
“I’m sorry…” He uttered softly. Why did I think it was okay to grab him in the first place? Just because I can? What kind of monster would do something like that..? Lip trembling slightly, James turned and began to walk away only to pause when he heard Oliver's voice again.
“I forgive you.”
James stood still for a few more moments before leaving the room and sitting at the edge of his bed, cradling his head in his hands. He grit his teeth, shutting his eyes tightly.
Forgiveness wouldn't fix anything.
#g/t community#ocs#g/t artist#ask box#g/t#g/t writer#borrowers#oc asks#ask#giant/tiny#g/t angst#g/t writing#giant/tiny writing
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A pose I think should be utilized more -- the two-finger pin >:3
#g/t#my art#giant/tiny#macro/micro#gianttiny#g/t ocs#size difference#g/t angst#whump#g/t whump#fearplay#g/t fearplay#g/t scenario#g/t community#handheld#was originally gonna draw this pose with some OCs but couldnt pick any good ones so
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A Drunken Giant Pt. 1
Poor little borrower Sai comes to realize that his giant friend Luka really isn't the same when he's downed a few drinks too many.
Funny what being drunk can do to a human's conscientiousness.
~~~~~~~
Sai jerked upright at the sound of the front door slamming closed, his heart feeling like it'd collided with his chest at his shock over the sudden, booming sound. He placed his hand over his sternum, letting out a quick breath to calm himself, scoffing internally.
Geez, it was obviously just going to be Luka, who Sai had thought had learned better than to make such loud noises now that he knew the tiny was around.
Sai rolled his eyes, falling back onto the huge, feather-stuffed pillow beneath him with his arms splayed out wide. In the couple months since he'd first truly met Luka and began to slowly, tentatively expose himself fully to the giant, things had been... pretty great, in all honesty.
Sure, Luka could be a little oblivious at times over how his size difference made some of his actions seem from Sai's perspective, but the tiny had soon learned that his giant friend was more than willing to correct his unwitting mistakes as long as Sai let him know about them.
For the past week, they'd been getting even closer still. It started because a mouse had found its way into the walls - a very unfriendly mouse, to specify - so Luka had proposed that Sai stay with him full time until one of the humane traps the giant bought successfully captured the mouse to be released somewhere suitably far away.
Sai had agreed, albeit reluctantly, but the thought of waking up in his little nest to a feral mouse trying to chew off his arm had more than sealed the deal.
Which was why Sai was where he was now.
Luka had gone out to celebrate something with some of his human friends, and he would be coming back pretty late. Neither of them wanted to risk Sai having to walk across the floors while the mouse was still on the loose, so Luka had helped Sai over to where they both usually slept: the giant's bed.
Which wasn't as terrible of an idea as it sounded like!
Sai had balked the first night when Luka had suggested it, but he'd eventually calmed down after the giant had explained things. The bed itself was king-sized, which meant that there was plenty of room for a borrower next to a human, and Luka pretty much slept like the dead. As in, once he fell asleep, he was more or less as still as a corpse except for the slow and steady rise and fall of his chest.
This all meant that it was perfectly safe for Sai to commandeer the pillow on the other side of the bed, and, along with a soft handkerchief Luka had donated to him for the cause, Sai had been having some of the best sleeps of his whole life.
Now however, Sai couldn't help but feel a shiver of unease go down his spine as he watched Luka finally stumble into the room, the giant's cheeks flushed a dark red and his eyes hazy and half-lidded.
Sai swallowed. He'd... he'd never actually seen Luka drunk before. Not even tipsy - not since the the giant had become aware of Sai's presence in their shared home.
The tiny carefully sat up fully on his pillow, watching with a slow yet undeniably growing sense of leeriness as Luka leaned heavily against the door-frame and peered unsteadily around the room, the giant letting out a hiccuping exhale as he did so. Sai could smell the alcohol on his breath from across the room, and it made his nose wrinkle and his burgeoning trepidation exponentially rise.
Luka's gaze lazily drifted over to the bed, and Sai stiffened when the giant's eyes finally landed on him, the resulting stare feeling like it was pressing down on him with all the weight of a cement brick.
It was too much. As he watched Luka's eyes light up with a disproportional amount of drunken glee upon having spotted him, Sai was consumed by a feeling so damnably chilling and so bitterly, achingly close to having become unfamiliar to him now welling up inside his chest. He flinched as the giant began to stumble towards him, each step loud and reverberating and so unlike what Sai had let himself become used to - let himself believe would never change.
He shakily got to his feet, taking a hesitant step back, then another as the giant's uneven gait failed to falter at his retreat, the familiar feeling of his own feet sinking into the soft pillow below him now menacing. Just another reminder of how impossible unlikely an escape would be.
"C'mere lil' guyyy," Luka slurred, his arms jerking up in front of himself, his thick fingers - each of which was nearly as wide as Sai's torso and as long as Sai was tall - curling inwards towards his palms in a grabby motion that made a bubbling sort of sick feeling clench in Sai's stomach.
A quiet noise of distress leaked past his lips without him even realizing, but he doubted the giant heard it anyways.
And it was too soon (far too soon) when a large, foreboding shadow loomed over the tiny's form (his shaking form, and when had he begun to tremble?), and he could no longer repress the urge to cower, crouching down and curling in on himself as if making himself any smaller than he already was would somehow make everything go away. It wouldn't. But it wasn't like he had any true options left. His throat had closed up with the thick lump that had formed in it; he wouldn't be able to get a single word out to the giant. No protest. No defense. And he knew with a cold sense of certainty that the edge of the mattress was too far away for him to reach before he would be caught.
(And privately, in the far recesses of his mind that he ruthlessly suppressed, Sai was terrified of the thought of Luka lunging at him if he tried to escape, the giant's gentle-turned-monstrous now uncoordinated hands unwittingly - so easily - crushing the life out of the tiny in his careless, thoughtless grip.)
So it was now, for the first time since the tiny had met his giant, that Sai felt completely and utterly afraid of the other being.
~~~~~~~
Cliffhanger ;DDD
huhuhuhuhuhuhu what will drunken Luka do?
#g/t#g/t community#giant/tiny#gt writing#drunk#giant tiny#accidental fearplay#fear play#g/t fearplay#g/t angst
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Warm up doodle uwu. Oop he got his lil ass caught (character belongs to @motiny-tiny-mo )
#commissions#g/t commissions#art commisions#commissions are open#g/t#giant/tiny#g/t ocs#macro/micro#g/t angst#g/t fearplay#fearplay#gianttiny#giant tiny#whump art
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