#almost gentle giant

[gentle-giant-swag]

Hello, I will reveal the most submitted characters for “almost a gentle giant”

Wondering what that is? Check out this post!

Anyway’

Here they are!

Yeah. It’s 3. Those three are

rio mason busujima from hypnosis microphone

heavy weapons guy from tf2

glamrock freddy from five nights at Freddy’s

I will also reveal ALL of the fandoms this time

Two submissions or more for a unique character. those without 1 will be in a preliminary battle

One piece

Hypnosis microphone

Sonic the hedgehog

Scum Villain's Self-Saving System

Teenage mutant ninja turtles

Only one character has been submitted for this fandom!

Ace attorney

Team fortress 2

Star Trek

Fantasy high (dimension 20)

Avatar the last airbender

Durarara

fate series

Texas chainsaw massacre

The strongest florist

Discworld

Doshin the giant

Dragon ball

Bleach

Kekkai sensen

Hunter x Hunter

JoJos bizarre adventure

Tri-gun

Spider-Man across the spiderverse

Btw once again I got a nepo character. But I won’t reveal who it is, eh. Maybe a few hints here and there, how aboout that, eh

[hal-o-ween]

Sweet Dreams <3

[elizaditton]

Too Small To Be Afraid (Chapter 20)

Cover / Master Post / Previous Chapter / Next Chapter (Coming Soon!)

- - - - -

I snatch my bookbag as I hurry out of my bedroom and down the hall. If I want to avoid having this conversation, I've got to make my rush look convincing!

"Hey, sweetheart," Dad says when he sees me enter the living room. "What's the big hurry? You've got plenty of time before school starts!"

"Y-yeah, I know," I say, trying the handle to the front door of our apartment. It's locked. "I just wanted to get there early to catch up some more with Brittney."

Dad chuckles. "Well, if you leave this early, you're still going to be waiting for the school to open when you get there!"

"Not a problem! I'm fine with that," I say as I turn the lock on the door and open it.

"Kaylin, come now. It's far too early to be leaving for school. You haven't even had— Aah!" he flinches when two golden brown slices of bread arise from the toaster with a sudden pop.

I can't help but smile. Dad's generally pretty fearless, often to the point of being reckless. Seeing him get scared by some toast is so out of character that I can't help but laugh.

Dad clears his throat and pushes up his glasses. "As I was saying before I was so rudely interrupted," he says, eyeing the toast, "you haven't even had any breakfast. Come on, I'll make you some toast."

I look between Dad and the door. If I stay, he's sure to want to pick up where we left off last night. Talking about school is the last thing I want to do! Yet the more I stand here, the more the emptiness in my gut begs me to eat something. Heaving a sigh, I set down my bookbag and close the door.

"So," Dad begins in a tone that can only begin to hint at all the questions he must have for me. "How are you feeling about school?"

"It's... okay," I say as I sit myself down at the kitchen table, trying to bury any complex feelings I have about the whole 'being completely blindsided by your own dad and sent to a school full of the very people you live in fear of' thing.

"Just okay?" he asks, looking back at me as he butters the toast. "You seemed pretty eager to head out the door just a second ago."

"Yeah, well... it's complicated." I say, turning my eyes to the table. "There's things I like, and... things I don't."

Dad hums in response, smothering an already buttery slice of toast with what looks to be enough raspberry jam for two separate slices. "Well, what sorts of things do you like about school?"

I move my jaw from side to side, growing more frustrated the harder I try to think of something about Pacific that I actually like that won't result in Dad bombarding me with more and more questions. I like talking with Brittney, and in spite of my fear I actually somewhat like being Derrick's deskmate— although I'd rather not be surrounded by other pertheans at school. Whenever a perthean student speaks up or even coughs in class, it sends shivers down my spine! And I really like being friends with Derrick, but I can't help but wish he was human. If he were human, I wouldn't be so terrified of him. I hate that I'm still scared of him, because I really do value the friendship we've been developing over the past few weeks.

"How about your friends?" Dad asks, setting a plate of toast in front of me. "Didn't you say you'd been hanging out with your deskmate?"

A knot forms in my core. This is exactly what I wanted to avoid.

"Y-yeah," I say, hoping he'll drop the topic if I respond.

Dad pulls up a chair across from me. "Why don't you tell me about your deskmate? Darren, right?"

"D-Derrick," I correct him.

"Right. Why don't you tell me about him? What's he like?" Dad asks, propping his head onto his hands like a teenage girl at a slumber party waiting to hear the latest gossip.

I try to keep a straight face, but a chuckle escapes me. Dad never ceases to surprise me!

"U-um, well, he's... nice," I start. "We both like Aven Gem games like Flower Town, and we both have FlexPads."

Dad nods, encouraging me to continue.

"He likes to study languages, and he's really good at Koronian," I say. "I think he wants to teach English in North Eris one day."

"That's nice. He sounds like a good kid," Dad says. "So what do the two of you usually do together?"

My heart sinks, and blood drains from my face. How am I supposed to answer that? Should I tell him Derrick is helping me with my fear? No, that'll be a huge win for him for sure!

I don't know why, but when I think about Dad hearing positive things about my experience at Pacific, I can't help but imagine him giving himself a huge pat on the back. I can't let him win this one, not when he lied to me about the move and completely blindsided me by enrolling me in this school. Even if I got lucky with Derrick, sending me to Pacific was still a terrible idea, and I'm not about to let Dad take the credit for what Derrick and I have been accomplishing.

"Well, we've studied together. We also just... um... talk," I say.

"Hm. And what sorts of things do you talk about?" Dad asks.

"Uh... j-just about anything! School, video games, movies..."

"And does he know about your fear?"

Why is he cornering me like this? Why is he so desperate to pry into this area of my life?

"Does it matter?" I retort, turning my attention to the toast in front of me and taking a bite. There's too much jam, but it tastes good mixed with the butter, so I don't mind.

Dad leans back in his chair. "Whether or not you tell him about your fear is up to you, but I think it would benefit the two of you to be on the same page."

I remain silent, taking another bite of toast.

"Do you plan on telling him?" Dad asks.

My insides twist as I look down, searching for the right thing to say. I come up empty.

Dad leans forward. "Does he already know?"

"Dad, I... I don't want to talk about this anymore." I manage, setting down my toast and clenching my jaw. Why is he doing this?

Dad sighs. "I get it, I do. Being at this school isn't easy for you. But I want you to know that you can talk to me about it, okay?"

"But you don't get it, Dad!" I hiss, standing up and planting my hands on the table. "You've never had a fear like mine! That's why you thought you could just send me to a school like Pacific and make me get over it!"

"That's not true," Dad says, crossing his arms.

"You want a quick fix for something that's plagued me all my life, but I can't get over my fear if I'm drowning in it," I utter, my voice cracking. "If you really cared, you'd leave me alone instead of throwing me to the wolves!"

Eyes glazing over, I turn and march toward the front door, leaving Dad behind at the kitchen table.

"Kaylin," Dad says, his tone growing more serious. "I don't want a quick fix for you or to throw you to the wolves. It's because I care about you that I want you to grow!"

"Forcing me to be around pertheans isn't going to undo what I saw!" I yell, slamming the door behind me as I exit the apartment.

My vision blurs as I head down the hall, and I blink away the tears that try to form. Dad's ignorance about my fear drives me up the wall! He knows what I saw and what I had to go through because of it, and he still thinks I can just get over it like an old habit!

The elevator door opens when I press the call button, and I sigh as I step inside. What am I going to do?

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

I let out a yawn as I wander down Seren Avenue, my eyelids still drooping from a lack of sleep. Why did I have to get up so early?

I gaze at the skylights above me, hoping the undercity's artificial lighting will be enough to help keep me awake. The screens display flowering trees reaching up towards a cloudy sky. Back in Maedri, the skylights displayed cherry blossoms during the springtime. Although the trees on these skylights do have some flowers, they're mostly filled with green leaves that pale in comparison to the beautiful shades of pink I'm used to seeing at the start of each year. I miss those old skylights. I miss Maedri.

I amble through the undercity, eyes fixed on the nature scene above. That's when something bumps into me from behind.

"Ah—! I'm sorry!" the boy behind me utters. His black hair and wide green eyes are all too familiar, and I immediately recognize the green blazer he's wearing as being from Pacific.

"Oh," he says, his eyes suddenly narrowing as his voice deepens. "It's just you."

"Y-yeah. Sam, right?" I ask.

He nods.

"This is the second time you've bumped into me. Don't you usually wear glasses?" I ask. "You'd be able to see where you're going with them on."

Sam's face reddens as he turns his gaze to the floor. "I... I look cooler without them."

"You should at least wear contacts so you can—" I start, only to be cut off by Sam weaving around me and running off. "Hey!"

I run after him, and am nearly out of breath by the time I catch up with him.

"Can I help you?" he asks flatly.

"Can I ask you something?"

He sighs, not even stopping or turning to face me. "I guess."

"Why are you always speeding off? Did I do something wrong?" I ask.

"That's two questions," he states, annoyed.

"Sorry."

"Look," he says, finally turning his head back to address me. "I'm not great with people, okay? I prefer to be alone."

"Is that why you're at Pacific?" I ask, my curiosity growing.

"Yes. I mean, no. I mean—" he stumbles over his words before letting out another sigh. "I have my own reasons for going."

I suppose Pacific looks good on university applications, being a private school and all.

"Is that why you're at Pacific?" he turns the question back to me.

"I-I... well, sort of. My dad made me go."

"Ugh. My parents made me go, too."

"I thought you had your own reasons for going," I say, raising an eyebrow.

"I—! I do! It's just... since we moved here from Erimathea, they wanted to make sure I was... adjusting."

"Adjusting?" I ask.

"You know, to the whole... different sizes thing," he states.

"I guess it's sort of the same for me," I say. "I've lived most of my life in the undercity, so I've never really been around pertheans. It's... a difficult adjustment."

"It can be hard," Sam says, focusing on the path ahead of us. "And on top of that, I can't really talk to anyone about it without looking like I have something against pertheans."

"Tell me about it," I huff. "And the weirdest part is that other humans get so defensive when you tell them you're afraid of pertheans. They act like we're making us all look bad or something."

Sam stops dead in his tracks, nearly causing me to bump into him. "What did you just say?" he asks, turning around slowly.

Wait, what did I just say?! Did I let myself carelessly spill my biggest secret to some near stranger?!

"Uh—! I—!" I stutter, backing up from the boy in front of me.

"Did you just say you have—"

"I have to go!" I blurt out before darting around Sam and continuing toward the school.

"Wait!"

Something in me gives in, and I come to a slow stop a few yards in front of Sam. What am I doing? He's just going to tell me off!

A moment of silence passes us by. It dares me to turn around and face the boy behind me, but I can't.

"I... I thought I was the only one," he finally says.

I spin around. "W-what?" I ask, confusion setting in as I ponder what he could possibly mean. "The only one who...?"

"The only one who had... a fear," he finishes.

My eyes widen, and I take a few steps toward Sam. "You mean... you have a fear, too?"

He sighs, looking off to the side before returning his gaze to me. "Didn't I just say that?"

"I've never met anyone else with a fear of pertheans," I whisper as questions begin to flood my mind.

"Neither have I," he says, shifting in place.

"Have you ever told anyone?" I ask.

Sam cranes his neck back and stares at the skylights. "My parents know... and that only resulted in some pretty useless therapy."

"Useless, huh?" I say as we continue our walk.

"Yeah, all they really tell you in therapy is to expose yourself to your fears and hope things improve."

"I guess I had the same experience. My dad always says things will improve with exposure and time. I think he stole that line from my old therapist. I was too young to remember most of what she taught me," I say, rubbing one arm.

"So you struggled as a kid?"

"Yeah... when they started mixing humans and pertheans back in stage two, I would often have panic attacks at school," I cringe as my mind fills with unwanted memories. "The others would call me 'Kaylin Flinch,' or 'Flinching Finch.'"

"Kids can be brutal," Sam sighs.

"Yeah. If you don't mind me asking, how long have you had a fear?"

Sam narrows his eyes. "Since around the time I moved here, right before stage four. I tried a few different schools to see if exposure could help. Some were mixed, some were not. But no amount of exposure ever really helped."

I shift my gaze to the floor. What if Dad is wrong? Not that I want him to have something he can gloat about, but what if exposure and time aren't the keys to getting over my fear of pertheans? What if all the time I'm spending with Derrick after school isn't going to help me after all?

Sam stops, so I stop too. I look up, and above us is the sign for Pacific, dimly lit and weathered as usual. It's odd how something can decay like that when it's underground, completely unexposed to the elements of the surface world.

I look at Sam, and immediately, something feels off. The softness in his eyes has all but disappeared, and his posture is oddly stiff. I can't quite explain it, but there seems to be some kind of odd, dark energy emanating from him. I take a step back.

"Sam?" I try.

He opens the door to the school's lobby. "I have to go," he mumbles.

"So soon? We can at least walk out to the pick-up balcony together—"

"No," he interrupts, clutching the strap of his bookbag. "I-I'll... I'll see you later."

With that, he scurries off across the room and up a creepy old stairwell. Those stairs lead to the school's human hallways just like the elevators do, but I've never seen anyone take them. I sigh and enter an opening elevator with some other students. Will I ever understand this guy?

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

Taking a deep breath, I close my locker and adjust the strap of my bookbag. I haven't seen Sam since he managed to scurry off again, and something tells me I'm not going to for a while, no matter how curious I am about what's going on in his head. I thought it'd be nice to have a friend who understands what having a fear is like, but I don't imagine this guy really wants anything to do with me.

The balcony is crowded as usual, and I'm surprised when I see Derrick standing beside it. Usually, I have to search for a while to pick him out of the perthean crowd. Kevin is standing beside him with Brittney on his shoulder. A smile spreads across my face, and I hurry over to the group.

"It's good that you came back in spite of all that," Kevin says to Derrick.

"I'll still never forgive that jerk for what he did to you, though!" Brittney huffs.

I stop. What are they talking about? My heart races as I look around me for some place to hide. I decide to hide at the end of the balcony, where there's a perthean-sized plant of some kind, with long green leaves that are tall enough to keep me hidden. I just hope nobody peers around the plant and sees me!

"I'm sure he didn't withdraw just to hurt me," Derrick whispers. "It was complicated."

Wait, is he talking about his previous deskmate? The one he said had moved away?

"Well, whatever the reason, he had no right to just abandon you," Brittney says. "You two were the talk of the school for weeks after you both left!"

Derrick shuffles. "I know, but—"

"And now that you're back, people are starting to wonder if something's going to happen to Kaylin," Brittney says.

People are talking about Derrick and I? Whatever for?! What could possibly happen to me that would cause me to withdraw?

What did Derrick do to his old deskmate?!

Before I have much of a chance to think, something pulls me up into the air by the back of my blazer! My gut twists and churns, and what little breakfast I managed to get down threatens to reappear. The room spins as I kick and scream, hoping to get away from whoever snatched me up without so much as a warning.

I gaze beside me and realize my mistake when I see that Derrick, Brittney, and Kevin are all looking in my direction with wide eyes, just like everyone else in the room.

"Cherryn! Calm down! It's just me!" bellows a deep feminine voice above me as I'm placed onto a warm, leathery surface. "Look, I'm sorry I freaked you out! I won't do it again!"

My heart pounds a thousand times a minute as I look up into a pair of soft brown eyes. They widen when they meet my gaze.

"O-oh my gosh...! You're not Cherryn! I'm so sorry!" the girl apologizes as the hand beneath me begins to shake.

"Kaylin!" calls a familiar voice.

I turn around, arms glued to my trembling frame, and breathe a sigh of relief to see my deskmate approaching.

Wait, Derrick?! What if he realizes I was eavesdropping? Won't he be mad at me?

I quake like a leaf in a windstorm as I'm transferred from one pair of cupped hands to another, the muffled voices overhead conversing as I continue to worry about so many things at once. What's going to happen to me? Can I really trust Derrick?

"Hey," Derrick whispers, bringing the cupped hands I'm in closer to his face. "Are you alright?"

I stare into his eyes with uncertainty. I was starting to feel so sure around Derrick, but now? What am I supposed to think?

"I-I..." I start, reaching up to my face as warm tears begin to fall. "I don't know."

Derrick's brows turn upward, and his eyes soften. "Don't worry. You will be," he says, gently stroking my shoulder with his thumb. "Come on, let's go to class."

[fauxpapillons]

another meme redraw

the height difference absolutely does not work like that but it's funnier to me so

[bippusmymippus]

A Good Girl finally convinces the tiny beasts that live in her home to share the bed with her (the original owner of the bed)

[fatedroses]

heh, short.

[tinycoded360]

Sterling Household-Mushrooms

Agnes couldn't suppress the grin that tugged at the corners of her mouth, a mixture of mischief and pride blooming in her chest. Today was the day she'd venture out alone and prove her mettle as a borrower. She was feeling extra bold and would venture out in the daytime. After all, her father always prattled about how oblivious their human was. It should be a piece of cake. She’d gather some goodies from the kitchen and return triumphant. After all, the best stuff would be out now since the human would be cooking his lunch soon. So, she would have to be quick.

With a deep breath, she squeezed through a crack in the wall, her heart drumming a lively beat.

She tiptoed past the colossal form of Sterling, who lounged in the living room like a benign mountain, utterly engrossed in the pages of a thick book. The cat, Whiskers, lay curled on his lap, a soft purring mass that seemed harmless—until one remembered its predatory instincts. Agnes marveled briefly at Sterling’s size; he could, without effort, crush her or ensnare her in his palm, transforming her from a daring adventurer into a helpless pet. A shiver danced down her spine at the thought, but she shook it off, bolstered by her mission.

Agnes's tiny heart thrummed like a bird's wings in her chest as she scaled the sheer cliff of the kitchen counter.

There - on the far counter sat the mushroom basket. Agnes swallowed hard and steeled herself. She raced across the expanse, hyperaware of her vulnerability. The open space seemed to stretch on forever. At last, she reached her prize.

Up close, the mushrooms towered over her, each cap the size of her head. She gave a giddy laugh. This would show them. She reached for a mushroom stem, picturing her family's faces when she -

A thunderous meow shattered the silence. Agnes whirled around. The giant's cat - Whiskers - stared hungrily at her from the floor, mere feet away. Agnes froze. This was not part of the plan. Whiskers crept closer, and Agnes's courage melted away. She dove into the mushroom basket, burrowing deep out of sight.

Whisker’s golden eyes fixated on the diminutive figure amid the mushrooms. A low, playful growl rumbled from the cat's throat as she crouched, her tail swishing back and forth with predatory excitement. To Whiskers, Agnes was nothing more than an enticing morsel—a wriggling snack to be chased, caught, and savored slowly in the warmth of her belly.

"Whatcha hunting there, Whiskers?" Sterling's voice boomed, a gentle rumble that sent waves of dread through Agnus's tiny frame. If he looked too closely if he decided to inspect...

Agnes squeezed her eyes shut, willing herself to become invisible and insignificant. Whiskers' tail flicked inches from her sanctuary, and Sterling's footsteps approached like the drumming of an oncoming storm.

"Nothing to see here, just mushrooms," she willed him to think, her fear a tangible thing in the cramped darkness. "Move along, move along..."

"Curious little thing, aren't you?" Sterling murmured, lifting Whiskers into his arms and scratching behind her ears. The cat purred, content under his touch, but her gaze lingered on the container, now still atop the counter.

Sterling tipped the container, and the mushrooms cascaded into the gaping maw of the food processor. Agnes tumbled with them, her panicked mind flashing images of the spinning blades that would surely be her end. She tried to push upwards, to somehow alert this unknowing harbinger of death, but the weight of the mushrooms bore her down relentlessly.

"Stop! Please, stop!" Her voice shrills with panic.

Sterling reached for the power button, his finger hovering so close. But in that split second, something caught his eye—a flash of color that didn't belong among the earthy tones of the mushrooms. His hand halted, and he leaned closer, peering through the clear plastic.

Shock etched into his features as he realized what—or rather, who—he was about to blend. "Oh my god," he gasped, his voice a mixture of horror and disbelief.

 Sterling's hand plunged into the food processor. His fingers, gentle despite their size, curled around Agnes's minute form. He lifted her out, the mushrooms falling away from her trembling body, and set her on the safety of the countertop.

Agnes, still reeling from the near-death experience, lay there quivering, unable to fully grasp the enormity of what had just occurred. Sterling towered above her, his expression of concern and anger at the tiny, mouse-sized girl before him.

Sterling's voice rumbled like distant thunder, breaking the silence that had befallen the kitchen since Agnes's rescue. "Do you have any idea how dangerous that was?" he asked, his words heavy with the weight of unspoken fears.

Agnes, perched on the cold granite countertop, swiveled her head up to meet his gaze, her body trembling slightly as she registered the gravity in his tone. Sterling towered over her, a colossus clad in an apron, his expression etched with lines of genuine concern and frustration.

"Your recklessness could have ended...very badly," he continued, his voice softening but still laced with the urgency of his message. "I almost didn't see you. I almost..."

"Your parents, do they know where you are? What you're doing?" He paused, the gears turning behind his eyes. "I'm very upset by what happened," Sterling said firmly. "I have half a mind to keep you here until I can find your parents and explain what occurred."

At that, Agnes burst into tears. The thought of Sterling telling her parents and potentially exposing their entire family terrified her. They would have to move right away, and it would be all her fault.

"I—I didn't mean to," she stammered between sobs, her tiny voice barely a whisper amidst the kitchen's silence. "I just wanted to help prove I could do it too." The words tumbled out, marred by sniffles and fear.

She couldn't fathom why this giant, this human, would care about what happened to her. In her mind, borrowers were invisible, inconsequential to humans like Sterling.

Agnes shrunk back, wrapping her arms around herself in a protective cocoon.

Sterling's heart sank as he watched the tiny girl shrink away, her tiny shoulders quivering with each sob. The sternness in his voice had been meant to protect, not terrify. Crouching down, he diminished his towering form to meet her at eye level, trying to exude calm.

"Hey, hey, it's okay," he whispered, "Let's start over. My name is Sterling, Sterling Silversmith. What's your name?" he asked kindly.

"A-Agnes," she replied between sobs.

"That's a lovely name," Sterling said.

Before more words could be exchanged, Whiskers leaped onto the counter, her tail twitching with interest at the sight of Agnes. A high-pitched scream tore from the borrower's lips as Sterling acted on instinct, scooping her up into the safety of his palm. The cat's curious meows filled the kitchen, pleading for the treat just out of reach.

"Shh, I've got you," Sterling soothed, his thumb brushing gently over her back while keeping her nestled within his curled fingers. "I'm sorry for scaring you again; it wasn't my intention. I just had to keep you safe from Whiskers."

Agnes, trembling, clutched his finger like a lifeline, her gaze locked onto the predator's eager eyes. There, she saw an insatiable hunger, one that understood her as nothing more than prey.

"Shh, it's okay, Agnes," he cooed, cradling her carefully while shielding her from the curious gaze of Whiskers. He ran his thumb, a giant warm pad, over her head, attempting to soothe her fears.

"Sorry, little one," Sterling murmured again, his voice laden with guilt. He held her until her tears subsided, each sob tapering off into shaky breaths.

"See? You're alright now," Sterling reassured, his voice a deep balm against the terror that had gripped her. He carefully packed her small bag with the mushrooms she'd bravely come to borrow. "You can go back to your family. I promise."

Her eyes widened, a glimmer of hope piercing the veil of her fear. He was letting her go? Relief fluttered within her chest, her breaths easing as she absorbed his words.

"Could... could I speak with your parents?" Sterling ventured, his tone gentle yet earnest. "I'd really like to understand more about you all."

"Nono, I can't!" Agnes blurted, her newfound calm dissolving. "They'll be so mad... We might have to move if they find out!"

Sterling frowned at her distress. "I wouldn't want that for you. But it's not my first time noticing your family around here. I saw your dad a few weeks ago and your siblings recently."

Agnes's gaze snapped up, wide-eyed and filled with a mingled sense of surprise and relief. A flush warmed her cheeks as she processed this revelation. "Nobody said anything," she stammered, her heart pounding against her ribcage.

"Perhaps they didn't want to cause any alarm or get into trouble," Sterling suggested with a wink.

Once safely on the floor, Agnes acted on a sudden impulse. She wrapped her arms around Sterling's thumb—a gesture so small yet filled with a magnitude of gratitude. "Thank you," she said, her voice steadying as she stepped back.

Sterling's lips curled into a warm, protective smile. He scooped Whiskers up, ensuring the feline's predatory interest in Agnes was thwarted. "Just think about it, okay?" he entreated. "I’d like to be friends, to talk with your family—not to harm anyone."

With Whiskers now safely cradled in Sterling's other arm, Agnes bolted, her tiny legs pumping furiously.

Agnes scurried back through the walls, her heart still racing from her close call. She couldn't believe the giant human had let her go with just a lecture. She clutched the bag of mushrooms closer.

As she neared the hidden entrance to her family's home, Agnes wondered if she should tell them about meeting the giant. Would they be angry? Proud? Afraid? Her father always said beans could never be trusted. But the giant had been so kind...

CHapter 6

[belethlegwen]

The Stranding - Chp 73 - Hidden Duality

I was in emergency for 8 hours last night and never got seen by a Doctor, so have a chapter before I go get myself some more sleep to catch up <3

By the time 2am rolled around it had been over an hour and a half since the last person had been called in to be seen, and we had noticed that only the triage nurse and the registration nurse were still there. My province has a wildly concerning lack of Doctors and healthcare professionals right now, and I couldn't wait another 4-5 hours for the next shift change, so we left and went to bed out of it. Hoping I can stave off the worst of the discomfort with over-the-counter medicine until I see my family Doctor on Monday.

Meanwhile, the gang is experiencing some shifts in dynamics that none of them find particularly comfortable as they assess the wreckage of the Swift Landslide. I hope you all enjoy!

Much love and be kind to yourselves <3

~ Belle

[the-messenger-of-the-gods]

something something the alteration between powerfully rough, jarring movements and slow, gentle movements (equally as powerful) being very hot. you agree.

[grxtsch]

cass and i cannot be the only people who make gentle giant fanart. we cannot be the only ones.

[shatinn]

Starfield 108/?

[gentle-giant-swag]

Propaganda thus far

“He is the sweetest kindest being alive, but they did accidentally knock over a fruit basket once”

“He has been caught committing 40 crimes in Luxembourg, but he does it for charity”

[spotsupstuff]

Has Brooke ever drawn on Euro’s face and chamber walls with markers? Were they permanent marker or washable ones?

god no??? she's being raised? what fucking child would be drawing on someone's Face???

[cttrajan1206]

At first i was tryna pin it down on one square but tbh my genderfluidity is never really in a solid state, even in the xenogeders I encompass.

So this is as accurate as i can get? I'm one of the X-es right now I think but I very rarely go to any corner piece, and moreso slide acriss one of the directed arrows half the time.

Tag yourself! I'm somewhere between F1 and F2!!

[dmitriene]

continuation to this small work, cw: two freaks in love.

könig finds out you're kind of shy, a meek, pretty thing, sure, you send him such a revealing, unabashed polaroid pictures, but now, with him appearing out of nowhere at your door, giant and rugged, your fingers fiddle nervously at your own clothes, tugging down and trembling at your sides, wide eyes looking at the letter he holds in his gloved hand, from colonel, to you, name written by the way you already memorized, making you understand that it's really him.

the man you sent your nudes to, who would've know that he'd get so obsessed to try and find you like possessed dog, but you welcome him nonetheless, shuffling aside to let him in, bend his head down with a curl to his back so he would get past the doorway to your living room, dirty boots leaving a crumbs of dirt, his gear coated in things you don't want to know about, but his bright, unmovingly focused eyes look at you with a crinkle of delight, pupils could've dilate by now.

sure, könig is a little bit sad you didn't welcome him naked, or undressing at the very first sight of him, but he can work from what he got, from your shy touches when he wraps a hand around yours, for a handshake, that's it, but his by now ungloved, sandpapered fingers rub and circle around your wrist, curious, almost shuddering at the feel of your much smoother, gentle skin against his, and just this is enough to turn him on, cock swelling hard in his cargos.

he wonders if you'll let him bend you over the couch and eat your pussy from the back, or just stretch your pretty hole around his swollen cock, but you ask him questions, how he found you, why, does he wants something to eat, but könig already plans a small wedding for you two so he could make you his forever, an adorable housewife that will take care of her hard working husband with sending him pictures of her holes he could pump full after coming home.

könig tells you everything, how much times you made him cum, that he fantasized about you in any possible situation and position, dreamed of entering his quarters, and instead of a empty, boring room see you curled at his bed, his thumb tracing along your knee all the while he babbles your ears off with all disgusting, horny talks, but it's amuses you, to the point your thighs start to clench together, pressing harsh, as you lean in, watching his eyes nearly eclipse from the very little contact.

you put the letter he brought aside on the table, instead, asking your questions, and then answering his, which only contain of awkward, boyish laugh and stuttering words of if he looks the way you imagined, and könig is, a little bit awkward, in the same time cocky enough to touch you, nearly groping, looking enchanted on the outline of your breasts from beneath your sleeping shirt, before rubbing an sweaty hand against the back of his hooded head, such a silly man.

nearly jumps out of his pants when you offer him to take a bath at your place, voice mellowy and inviting, and könig trots behind you with a wagging tail when you lead the way, filling the bath full of warm water and couple drops of shower gel, making some bubbles that not really suit him, but would make the room smell nice and block out all that reeks out from him when he starts to undress, preening under your touch when you help to unclasp couple of things off his gear, könig holding down from to not shove your hand down his crotch.

it's when you join him that he gets insistent, all your shy act dropping down, your nails raking down the expanse of his toned, tissued back with tiny, reddening streaks, as könig corners you against the bathtub ceramic, moaning raggedly and humping your pussy persistently, messy, hips grinding and twitching, and the way he acts so eager and silly makes you really aroused, mewling right against his wet ear as he sloppily makes out with your neck, his hair and stubble rubbing all over your sensitive, bruised skin, sharp teeth's closing around the warmed flesh.

seems like now, you have a strange kind of boyfriend, a military colonel, a right pervert, and a pussy drunk pup that pumps your soppy, gummy cunt full of his thick, creamy release, one he kept in his balls especially for your meeting, his vision nearly blackening from how long his cock throbbed and spurted, squeezed tight by your pulsing, milking walls, enjoying your palms stroking his face, cooing at him hushed and lulling, everything könig dreamt of.

main masterlist. quidelines.

[amaranthinespirit]

size difference with könig and virgin!reader

he knew it was going to hurt; any man the size of him would reflect that under his belt. any woman, no matter the body count, would be in for it during a night with a brute like him.

but when you came along, doe-eyed and so much smaller than him, something stirred on the bottom of his abdomen. behind the zipper of his jeans, his cock chubbed up at first glance.

he was already huge enough to see the outline of his bulge through his jeans, or whatever cargos, he wore, but his growing erection made it that much more obvious.

he had never been one to notice before, but with you, he couldn't help it. the way he dwarfed you as you stood by his side, your (much) smaller hand completely engulfed by his giant one.

despite the size difference, he was gentle—as gentle as he could be. a brute as big as him with a tiny doll like you—like porcelain, you were going to break. and he was going to be the one to break you.

he ruts his hips against yours, his bulbous tip collecting your slick along his cock. a whimper, or mewl, escaping your throat whenever he grazes your clit. his breathing is heavy, muttered curses and phrases in german under his breath.

"so eine hübsche muschi, nur für mich..." his voice is hushed and low, as if he's talking to himself about how heavenly your puffy lips are against his girthy cock.

he keeps a large hand around the base of his girthy dick, the other planted on the bed, just above your hip as he steadies himself. the bed is dipping heavily with the focused weight.

he finds himself growing impossibly harder at the sounds of your strained squeaks, watching the sweat bead down the side of your face before his eyes find where his cock lays heavy against your sopping cunt.

your thighs slick with arousal and previous climaxes as he had worked you open on his tongue and fingers, his skin glistening under the light. your juices painted his chin, his fingers pruned from being buried deep in your sensitive pussy, desperately swallowed by your spongy walls.

he hummed lowly, almost a groan as his hand around his girthy base slapped his cock against your slick labia, the head of his cock beating against your swollen, hypersensitive clit he'd been toying with all night.

"diese muschi gehört mir, nicht wahr? hmm...?" you knew not what he said, but his tone was smug, cocky as he gave your cunt a few more slaps with his dick, humping his length between your folds.

you were squirming under him, not even fucked by his huge cock yet, and you were already on the brink of overstimulation, teetering along the lines of being too much. but it was just right.

his hand propped on the bed found your waist, stilling you as his hips halted, dragging his tip down your pussy to your leaking slit. evidence of previous orgasms spilled from your hole, "shhh, sei still, mein schatz..." he cooed, a callouses thumb tracing along the soft, supple skin of your waist before digging his fingers into your flesh.

he needed self control as he lined his cock with your hole, teasing along the folds before beginning to split you in half. whimpers falling from your lips at the mere task of just fitting the tip past your entrance.

he groaned loudly at the way your pussy welcomed him, swallowing his bulbous head with a squelch and a tight pulse as he stretched you open. the previous rounds of his finger and tongue doing nothing to aid the sheer stretch of your cunt around his dick.

it hurt like hell as he inched his cock deeper, reveling in the way your face contorted, strangled cries leaving your lips as tears pricked your eyes. your face flushing pink as salty trails glistened down your heated cheeks.

it was like you were practically impaling yourself on his thick, meaty cock. your body being split down the middle to accommodate for such space he took up in your cunt, your spongy walls clamping tightly around his dick.

"Scheiße, schatz...du bist so eng..." he cursed, his hand around his girth retracting to his hip.

he watched as his cock sunk deeper past your puffy lips, the way your pussy swallowed him with a sickening, lewd squelch that made his eyes flutter shut. his hips bucked, followed by curses as he couldn't help himself from rocking his hips. speeding up to a comfortable pace.

the skin of your backside quickly flushed red as his pace became more and more relentless—he had told you before he wasn't good with virgins. you assured him you could handle it, and he promised he would try to be gentle. key word, try.

well, he had tried, and failed as his hips desperately rut into your heavenly, slick pussy with lewd sounds of your skin coming together rapidly. his full, heavy balls slapping against your backside with each time his hips pounded into your cunt.

he was a lost cause, muttering incoherent phrases of half-german, half-english. most of what you could pick out was praises to your pussy, how you were made to fit his cock in your tight hole—though you were too cock-drunk, babbling nonsense into moans under him to hear a word he said.

"verdammt, deine muschi ist der himmel, kleines mäuschen..." he praised in a coo, his body now leaning to cover yours, his heavy weight pressing your back further into the mattress, "so verdammt eng und nass..."

his hand on your waist slid down to your stomach, he swore he could feel the skin warp under his calloused prints as his bulbous tip slammed your cervix.

when his eyes finally left where your two body conjoined, up to your pretty face where tears streamed down your cheeks, disheveled hair splayed across the pillow behind your head and matted to your forehead. his eyes fluttered shut as his dick twitched and throbbed against your spongy walls.

your pained cries turned to whimpers and hiccuped moans, hands clawing at his back to pull him impossibly closer in a desperate attempt to feel him deeper.

it wasn't long until you felt another warmth building in your lower abdomen, familiar in feel to the previous, but so much more hammering as it built, and built, and built.

könig could feel how you sunk your nails into his back, as if you feared he would deny you the ecstasy of release. he felt the way your cunt clamped around him, pulsing in sync with your heartbeat—his too.

his hips faltered—he had never finished this quick, but then again, your pussy was like a fucking drug, and he was an addict.

"das ist es...that's it, mauschen..." he whispered breatlhessly into your ear, his heavy, warm breath against your skin as he waited for your release to boil over with his.

he moaned loudly against your sweat, sticky skin, uttering more praises under his breath as he felt his cock twitch. he watched the way your jaw went slack, how your body shuddered under him before going limp, boneless under his weight.

a shuddered breath slipped past his lips as he came deep in your pussy, painting your walls a creamy, thick white as he filled you. his eyes fell back to your pussy, watching as he's milked dry of every last bit of his pearly, white cum.

he rubbed a rough thumb over your clit, watching you flinch and squirm from the sensitivity as he kept an eye on how his gooey release oozed from your hole, despite the fact his cock was still plugged inside of you.

he hummed lowly in appreciation as he took two fingers to spread the thick substance to coat your folds.

fuck, maus, you were ruined for anyone else now, guess you're stuck with him.