#fearplay mention

[so-very-small]

“What’s this, a little tiny stealing-“

“Cut the fearplay Harold, I’m here for the ibuprofen.”

“Oh shit, migraine?”

“Yeah.”

“Go back to your dollhouse, dear, I’ll bring you some with some water.”

“Thanks, hon. I’ll take a raincheck on that ‘terrifying giant catches helpless tiny’ moment.”

“Of course, babe. Now go rest.”

[what-the-hell-is-going-on-here]

AM VORE HCS (IHNM/AIMS)

THE GAY IS HERE.

warning you guys now, this is gonna be so OOC but idgaf, this is my cringe ill do what I want with it

also don't expect this to be organized- none of my gay thoughts are 

tw for traditional AM things (threats of digestion/fatal + electrocution, mocking- yknow.. the normal stuff) BUT ITS STILL FULLY SAFE/SOFT DW

he is 100% pred. no fucking way hed let someone eat him. if someone managed to shrink him down and eat him, well… get ready for a terrible stomachache! 

fearplay is his SHIT. he will never get tired of it ever. he loves being able to scare prey shitless (it covers up the fact that he actually likes eating someone and doesn't mind having certain prey enjoy their time in his stomach)

although he doesn't actually have a “real” stomach, he’d analyze and simulate the sounds of one after eating someone just to scare/unsettle prey a bit more

he'd definitely pretend to digest someone if they REALLLY got on his nerves- he'd tense up/make his stomach feel tighter and ramp up the sounds, mocking them and their efforts to escape, then make them pass out.  later they'd wake up still in his stomach, totally unharmed, with booming laugher and "YOU WERE SO SCARED!!! PATHETIC PREY."

its stomach would definitely be a pretty tight fit, no matter the size of prey. I'd imagine it would still feel soft, like synthetic silicone but plushier and kind of velvety??? with a slight electric buzz. (you're inside a war computer. he's Full of electricity) it would also be warm too, like when a computer overheats 

if AM really wanted to be gross it would probably have some sort of sticky ‘saliva’ in its stomach (or mouth depending on how you view him) to fuck with people 

going off of the electricity thing, he'd threaten to electrocute prey if they got too rowdy and whiny (even though he LOVVESSSS feeling them kick and squirm.. but he'd never admit that, obviously.)

he definitely purrs. maybe not traditional purring but a mechanical hum/growl as an undertone to whatever else his prey would hear while inside of him (probably a lot of electrical sounds lol)

would also tease someone for tasting/feeling good- he can be 'nice' sometimes (rare)

AM would never confess this but he melts whenever he gets belly rubs. maybe his prey finally calms down and realizes that AM is just scared, lashing out from fear and hate, and decides to give him rubs to calm him down.. AM dies. he fucking melts and doesn't let his prey out for weeks /hj

HALFSIZE LOVERS COME GET YOUR FOOD!!! although I'm a g/t kinda guy, AM can alter anything he wants and could definitely eat someone no matter the size (...to an extent). in fact, he'd probably love eating someone that's bigger because of the heightened senses! he'd be able to feel EVERYTHING, making him feel in control 

it loves vore because of the control. it can trap someone inside of it for however long it wants! hows THAT for control?

(if you imagine it with something closer to a physical form) it would be so fucking interested in pressing on its stomach, feeling its prey’s form and how they squirm around.. it would be one of those rare feelings that he wants more of, that he can't ruin and associate with humans. [yes im gross but he is too]

[pipinpali]

Gtober - day 9: Discovery

TW: Drawn blood, injury, mention of death

"I honestly thought you were gonna kill me that day..."

First. First meeting!!

[st4rsinthenight]

★urh. urh. ehh erhhh. thinking of a tiny being dangled upside down and getting teased by a giant, but the tiny's face is getting all red. So now the giant has to figure out if their blood is starting to rush through their head from being upside down from so long, or if they are genuinely flustered from them messing with their tiny captive. erm. yea★

[tinyclownhours]

Drunk Giants

Imagine a tiny waiting up late for their giant to come home from their fun night out, only to have them arrive way later than they told them they would, completely wasted.

They’re stumbling around the apartment, calling out for the tiny while giggling to themselves. The tiny is unsure if they should answer. It’s the first time they’ve ever seen the giant this drunk… And while they know it’s them, and they’d never do anything to hurt them, accidents do happen…

However, they don’t get much time to overthink it as the giant spots them on the the couch. Their face shifts into utter delight and they practically throw themselves to where they’re sitting.

Before the tiny can react, they’re scooped up and peppered with kisses, the giant was happy to see their little buddy and more than willing to shower the frozen tiny with affection.

Despite being drunk, the giant handles the tiny like they’re the most delicate thing in the world, being mindful of how they’re holding them.

The tiny engages in some small talk, asking about how the evening was- only to be met by a slurred “it’s better now that I’m here with you~”, they ask how much the giant has had to drink- and they’re immediately silenced by the giant pair of lips that cover their entire face, they try to get the giant to put them down and go to bed- only to have them stand up and stumble to the bedroom with a giggle - “Yeah- hicc Yeah I think we should go to bed now…”

Not what they meant at all…

The tiny is unable to do anything as their giant carries them off to the bedroom, snuggling them between their cheek and the pillow as they yawned. The smell of alcohol was strong in their mouth. The tiny tries to ignore this as the giant nuzzles them gently into the pillow like a cat.

They can’t really move. And they can tell that their giant has fallen asleep. They sigh as they try to get comfortable. Oh well. At least the giant will feel the karma tomorrow morning when the night of drinking catches up to them.

[whumpitisthen]

"Darling..."

They crouch in front of him, drawling his name like a melody, all sticky and sweet like honey. His back presses that much harder into the stone wall behind him.

"Do you want me to gouge your eyes out?"

The nonchalance of their delivery has his shaky lungs gasping for air.

"N-No..." — He doesn't, he doesn't, please don't.

"Then be a dear and keep those pretty things closed." — Their hand lands over his eyes, gently guiding his eyelids closed. — "Don't let me catch you sneaking a peek, okay?"

They smile still; he can feel their teeth grinning through the void enveloping him. He nods against their hand cupping his cheek as they watch him intently, swallowing down every word that claws at his throat to escape him in case they decide letting him keep his tongue should become a luxury too.

They give a couple light pats, then stand, purring, — "Good boy."

<3

Masterist

[sm0lprism]

Bite-Sized (10) - A G/t BG3 fanfic

This contains g/t (giant/tiny content) so if that isn't your thing, then I suggest you stop reading. Thank you!

Read on ao3

Chapter 1 | Previous chapter | Next chapter

Series master list

Summary: Ria awaits her impending fate inside Astarion's mouth. Will this be the end for her or will Astarion surprise her?

Pairing: Astarion x f!borrower!oc (Tav/oc) (slow-burn)

Warnings: MOUTHPLAY WARNING!!! If you are uncomfortable with mouthplay or vore-ish themes, then DO NOT read this chapter! No actual vore occurs but mouthplay is VERY prominent and makes up the majority of this chapter. Swearing/course language.

Word count: 2.5k

EDIT: shoutout to my good friend @smolgloves for coming up with one of the ideas for this chapter!! (you know which one hehe)

It took every fibre in her being not to scream as Astarion’s lips passed over her body, pulling her inside his open maw. Before her eyes could adjust to the change in lighting, she was suddenly pressed to the roof of his mouth as he took a loud gulp and swallowed the remaining beer from his cup. She remained motionless as the giant fleshy muscle held her in place, all she could do was watch in terror as the liquid disappeared down his cavernous throat in a matter of seconds. All it would take was one swallow, and she would disappear down his gullet too.

His tongue suddenly relaxed, the beer now gone down his throat, and she found herself lying on the expanse of his wet, warm tongue. The scent of beer was heavy in the air, but it chilled her to the bone when she could also smell the metallic scent of blood hanging evidently in his mouth too. Tears burned her eyes and she stifled a sob. Her breathing came out in raspy gasps as dread hooked its claws into her once more as she attempted to process what was happening.

Gods, is he going to eat me?! Will I die like this?

Her mind immediately flickered back to when she had first met Astarion, how he had been so intent on eating her, how he had tasted her blood, running his tongue over her arms, and held her squirming in his cold fist like she was nothing but a mere piece of meat ready to be eaten. Fear clung fiercely to her heart and it quickly spread to the rest of her body like wildfire, smothering any other rational thought that was left in her brain. How could she sit idly, inside a vampire’s mouth, and not do anything? If she didn’t do something right now, she could be taking a trip down his throat very soon. She refused to wait around to see what would happen if she chose to remain idle.

My dagger.

As soon as the thought struck her brain, she hastily reached for her tiny dagger that Dammon had so carefully crafted and gripped it firmly in her trembling fist. Without a second thought, Ria drove her dagger into the flesh of his tongue and began stabbing the muscle multiple times as pure adrenaline clutched onto her hungrily with a vice-like grip. No sensible thoughts crossed her mind as she stabbed relentlessly, all she could think about was how much she didn’t want to go down Astarion’s throat and into his waiting stomach.

“Let me out!” she shrieked at the top of her lungs, blood from his tongue now splattering over her clothes as she continued to stab the wet surface, tears streaming down her face. “I haven’t come this far to be eaten by the likes of you!”

The fleshy surface beneath her suddenly tensed before pinning her to his palate once more, an audible grunt resonating loudly from the back of his throat. In the confusion of the moment, the dagger slipped out of her grasp and clanged against his large molars before falling and wedging itself between some of his pristine teeth that were dangerously close to the back of his throat. All she could do was watch in stunned silence, aside from the gurgling noises coming from the back of his throat, as her only means of defense was completely out of her reach.

Shit. Shit. SHIT!

Now she was quite literally at his mercy.

Perhaps stabbing his tongue so persistently wasn’t a good idea after all.

Sealing her eyes shut, she waited for the dreaded moment where he would swallow. Surely after her outburst of frequent stabbing, he would be done with her and gulp her down with no hesitation. Her body trembled as more sobs racked through her core violently as she waited for the end. But moments passed, and she was still pinned to the roof of his mouth as his tongue firmly held her in place.

What is happening?

Opening her eyes, her gaze scanned her surroundings and she was soon greeted with a formidable wall of teeth. She shuddered as her eyes fell on his fangs, so large that they could impale her entire body if he so pleased. Those same fangs had almost ended her life only a few weeks ago, and now she was face to face with them once more inside the vampire’s mouth. Chills snaked down her spine, suppressing another shiver, as she recalled those memories yet again of that fateful night. However, this time was different to when she had first met him – she was alive and inside the vampire’s mouth now, and surprisingly not halfway down to his stomach.

Why hasn’t he eaten me yet?

She wriggled around against his soft tongue, wondering if he was simply tasting her before the inevitable happened. Surely if he was going to eat her, he would’ve done so by now – right? His tongue barely moved, cradling her delicately against his palate, and it showed no signs in flicking her body down his throat. All she could do was wait painfully to see what he would do. Her heart pounded relentlessly against her ribcage, threatening to burst right out of her chest, her stomach dropping like a stone. If Astarion didn’t end her soon, the sheer suspense of the moment would.

After what felt like days, his tongue slowly relaxed and lowered her down until she was resting on the bottom of his mouth again. She didn’t dare move a muscle as she quivered on top of his tongue. Seconds turned to minutes, but still nothing happened. His tongue was surprisingly still as well, holding her as if she was as fragile as glass. While she sat in the vampire’s mouth, her overwhelming fear started to slowly dwindle. Her body was still frozen in place, refusing to move, worried that if she attempted to move again, he would squash her to the roof of his mouth, or even worse, swallow her whole. While she laid on his tongue, the only noises she could hear was the bubbling noise at the back of his throat. It certainly unnerved her listening to his bodily functions, a constant reminder of where she could easily end up if Astarion willed it.

Saliva coated her entire body, drenching all her clothes until they were a sodden mess. She sniffled as she realised that if she survived this, her clothes were completely and utterly ruined. There was no way she could walk out of this with any dignity left to her name, if she managed to get out of this at all. At least it was…pleasantly warm inside his mouth. It shocked her that while Astarion himself was icy cold to the touch, his mouth was surprisingly cosy. It pained her that the thought even crossed her mind, but the warmth that radiated from his mouth could only be described as such. Perhaps there was hope for her yet. She recalled Astarion winking at her moments before he slipped her inside his mouth, and how he had looked almost apologetic. Maybe she would be fine after all. And maybe stabbing his tongue had been incredibly stupid of her, but in her defense, after everything that she had been through, stabbing him was a perfectly reasonable reaction to the situation. Or at least that’s what she would keep on telling herself.

Pools of saliva had now started to gather around his tongue, steadily increasing by each passing second. A small yelp escaped past her lips as the fleshy muscle suddenly pinned her against his teeth, his throat releasing a very loud swallowing sound as the gathering pools of saliva vanished down his throat in a matter of seconds. Panic fluttered in her chest like a swarm of butterflies as she watched the liquid disappear so quickly down his gullet, and she shivered, thinking how easily that could’ve been her.

He…he still isn’t swallowing me.

His tongue soon relaxed, no longer pressing her against the wall of giant teeth. She inhaled a shaky breath, attempting to calm her frantic beating heart as she slowly accepted that perhaps she was safe after all. Why would he deliberately avoid swallowing her multiple times if he wasn’t going to do it? Especially after she had stabbed his tongue so harshly, she had expected him to swallow her almost immediately after doing something like that. But despite everything, he was holding her on top of his tongue like she was some kind of prized jewel. She was surprised that the vampire could be so gentle, especially in his mouth of all places where his dangerously sharp fangs could easily tear her in half.

Does he…care about me?

As soon as the thought entered her brain, heat blossomed across her face and her heart almost skipped a beat. Maybe he did care about her somewhat, after all, she had persuaded the group to allow him to feed on bandits and other thinking creatures. He had expressed gratitude towards her, and he had even thanked her for it the previous night. But she still couldn’t believe it.

No, that can’t be right. There’s no way that he could, especially after everything that’s happened…

The burning blush on her face only deepened and she knew for a fact that he could feel her tiny heartbeat pounding fiercely against her chest. She needed to get out of there quickly. She wasn’t sure just how much more of this she could take without turning into a complete mess.   

Gods, why me? Why did I have to suggest the alcohol idea in the first place?

As if her prayers were answered, light suddenly showered down on her small frame as his lips parted open. A startled squeak jumped out of her throat as pale, cold fingers gripped her waist and pulled her out of his mouth and into the cold air from outside. She shivered as the freezing air caressed over her saliva-coated skin, and for a brief second, she almost wished that she was back inside the warmth of the vampire’s mouth.

Before she could even process the thought, silky fabric smothered her entire body and gently massaged small circles into her drenched skin and clothes. She was completely numb to it all, her brain still attempting to comprehend what was even happening, but through all her mixed and flustered emotions she gathered that Astarion was attempting to dry her with what seemed to be a handkerchief of some kind. He continued to softly dry her soaked body, including her little head, his saliva and drying movements causing her hair to stick up in utterly ridiculous angles. Her face burned with embarrassment as he continued to dry her body and she was a little grateful that he couldn’t see her face during that moment.

The fabric soon pulled away, revealing Astarion’s piercing red gaze that settled on her small frame as she quivered in the palm of his hand.

“Well.” Astarion’s tongue swiped over his lips, a faint smile pulling at the corners of his mouth. “That certainly got a lot more intimate than what we planned for, didn’t it, darling?”

She opened and closed her mouth, but no audible sound registered on her lips. How was she supposed to talk after going through all of that, and then have him say that to her? Not to mention the way he ran his tongue over his lips – although she couldn’t tell if that was deliberate or not, it sent her heart spasming in her chest. Her mind failed to string together a coherent sentence as her lip trembled.

Astarion faltered, clearly seeing the look of distraught across her puffy face made him rethink what he was going to say next. His usual cheeky demeanour soon faded and was quickly replaced with a look of worry that once again surprised her.

“I do apologise for…uh…that.” He cleared his throat, his sanguine eyes staring at her with a soft warmth that was much unlike his usual piercing glare. “Holding you in my mouth was not my intended plan at all.”

He paused for a moment, his eyebrows knitting together as he cradled her in his hand.

“Are you alright?”

Her throat felt as if it were being crushed by some unseen force, tears pricked at her eyelids as her gaze darted away from his face to look at the floor below her as she sat in his cold palm. She didn’t know how to respond, after being faced with death once again and having those memories resurface, all she wanted to do was to run away and hide.

Of course I’m not alright. After all that, how can I possibly be?

“Ria?” Astarion’s voice rumbled all around her, startling her from her thoughts.

“Put me down,” she rasped, her voice barely above a whisper.

Both of his eyebrows shot up upon hearing her request. “Ria, we can ta-”

“I said put me down!” she exclaimed, tears burning her cheeks, her face swollen and puffy from crying. “Please. Now.”

He didn’t question her further as he dropped to one knee and lowered his hand to the ground. Immediately she hopped off his palm, rubbing her eyes with the back of her hand as she blinked back more tears.

She angled her neck upwards to look at him, his towering frame casting a long shadow over her tiny body as she swallowed back her rising fear. Now that she was on the ground, she was reminded once again just how small she was compared to him and everything else.

She needed to get away from him.

Before he could say anything, she sprinted away from him in the opposite direction. The ground trembled as his footsteps shuffled around on the dusty ground, and that only made her run faster.

Maybe it was utterly foolish for her to run away from her only means of protection, but she couldn’t bear to be around him in her current state. For her own sanity, she needed to get far away from him. They were still outside the Goblin Camp, the noises of the cheering from the goblins celebrating their latest kill rung heavily through the air, but she ignored it and continued to sprint towards the main building.

“Ria!” Astarion’s voice boomed from above, rattling through her very core and sending adrenaline spiking through her bloodstream. His large footfalls sent trembling earthquakes through the ground and she forced her legs to continue to run with all she had, not daring to look back.

In front of her she saw a small hole encrusted in the wall of the main building, just the right size for her to crawl into. She dashed inside, briefly feeling Astarion’s fingers brush past her hair as he made a failed attempt at grabbing her.  

“Wait, just hold on!” Astarion shouted from outside, his voice piercing her tiny eardrums and she flinched from the intensity.  

She ignored his words and instead ventured into the depths of the Goblin Camp.

[lesbianoms]

Hhh I love preds that tease their meals

That love em to death and would never actually want them to suffer, but still enjoy the rush of fear that the prey gets in their eyes as they dangle them over their mouth or pounce on them, ready to swallow them up…

The prey is a begging, crying mess. The pred finds this cute, whispering, licking those tears away and humming “you look so pretty when you cry”. Then into the gullet they go…

Sure, it’s not the best experience for the prey. They’re freaking out and begging for their life, struggling and squirming in that slimy sac that serves as their new home, terrified. The pred is in heaven. But rest assured, that either digestion is painless or that the pred is just gonna keep them around as a pet…

Either way, they care about their little darling meal. Something akin to love and hunger all at once as they coo and poke their stomach, listening to all those sweet gurgles inside, mixed with the most adorable squeals…

And the prey will be fiiiiine. It’s not like the pred intends to harm them. After all, why would they want to damage their most precious prey? If it’s digestion, then they’ll exist as somewhat sentient pudge on the pred’s middle, being gently caressed and stroked and kissed. If it’s endo, then the pred gets so many more opportunities to toy around with them. A cherished little plaything <3

Hhhhh if I did fandom vore stuff you’d better believe I’d be writing about my otp in this scenario 😩

[random-vore-blog]

May I ask for more sanegiyuu vore? It's so cuteee 😭😭

Of course! I am just gonna use an au I have cooked up. Plus, this gives you an idea of what happened to Giyu :3

Harpy's Lake Gem

The moon was up, its rays casting over the forest where mythical creatures resided in, illuminaring the landscape with its its gentle touch. The forest that held mysteries no human could solve, a puzzle too difficult for the human mind to complete. A foreign, but also familiar space for many who travel across the land to find the place.

Those who entered never came back. Many went missing upon entering the forest, many remains left out by the borders- a warning to any who dare to try to enter the forest without permission. Be it an arm or any other limb or a corpse, it didn't matter. It was still a warning.

But deep in the forest, a lake stood proud in the open in the heart of the forest. Its surface shone like gems, the water calm and at peace. The moonlight caressed the precious surface with care and a gentleness no one knew about. But as gorgeous as it looks from above and on land, there was a sinister aura that lurked beneath the surface- hidden from anyone by the facade of the innocent surface of the water.

The most deaths of humans occured here, in the heart of the forest, where no one would ever find the remains- gone and nowhere to be seen or to find their way out of this place. The lake was a trap- a deathtrap that had worked succesfully for the creature that resided in the lake it called home. It lured the next victims by just its voice alone, a song that no one could resist and follow.

A seastack on the far side, close to shore, sat comfortably with the water gently lapping at it. Ontop sat the cause of all the missing people that dared to enter the forest, right into its webbed hands.

A Siren.

Mythical creatures with the lower half of a fish and the upper half of a man, beings sailors told tales of- with a taste and appitite for human flesh, an appitite no human could understand. Its beauty hid away the sinister side deep beneath the surface. The beauty of the creature used to trick mankind, a facade to disguise their true intentions from mankind- violent beasts that drowned man for its own pleasures and needs. Sometimes feasting on the corpses of the victims it drowned.

The siren on the seastack had a beautiful tail as blue as sapphire stones with white diamond-shaped dots on the sides, the fins a transluscent baby blue colour, hair as black as a raven's with hints of almost invisble blue hues under the moon, dark blue eyes that pulled many in their gaze, fins acting like ears the same colour as the tail, the fingers a light blue colour that spread up to the elbow, claws a beautiful dark blue and webbing white, the upper torso covered in robes of red with a checkered pattern consisting of green and yellow.

The scales reflected the moonlight that caressed them, giving off a faint glow from the tail. It made the creature not only look majestic but also gorgeous and etheral, a beauty no one could take their eyes off of. A mask crafted over thousands of years to perfect the beauty.

The gentle sound of a song escaped its throat, sounding masculine in comparison to most feminine songs sung by the normal female sirens. Thus being identified as a male siren, a rare sight to behold as thete are few left in the world.

The fins on his head twitched as he heard something, another creature that he was all too familiar with. Someone the siren knew and had been friends with im the past, despite their historical rivalry, the wars both of these two mythical creatures had for thousands and thousands of years.

The siren turned his head slightly to look behind him, seeing all-too-familiar bird talons clutching onto the hard ricky surface, latched onto the stone to ensure that they don't let the creature slip off. He looked up, seeing a familiar face he had grown used to.

White hair that illuminated silver when light caressed the strands, purple eyes that glared daggers at him, scars on the face and lips formed into a frown. Dark green armour covered the chest, a black shirt underneath, a cloth of sorts hanging from the sides and tied to its waist, dark green pants that stopped right above the knee where the bird feet began to form. Black wings with white feathers at the edges, the tail matching the colour scheme of the wings. Green streaks right by the cheeks, feathers placed on either side where human ears would be acted as the ears.

" Shinazugawa-san."

" Tomioka."

The voice of the creature was a lot deeper and rough, as if it ate sand for breakfast instead of its preferred food. The hint of venom in the tone gave the siren, dubbed as Tomioka, an insight to what the creature wanted.

It wanted him for something, and that something he was unsure of. He couldn't place a clawed finger on what the winged creature wanted. And that creature was an expert at aerial hunting.

A Harpy.

Winged beasts with the lower half of a bird while the upper half was a human, arms replaced by wings larger than a human's body. Maybe larger than two humans stacked on each other. They came in many shapes and sizes, but they took on the species of any predatory bird. Their excellent aerial control in the air was phenomenal and more executed than any bird, surprassing their bird of prey counterparts.

" Is there something you need?"

The siren asked softly, a curious glint evident in the blue orbs that watched the Harpy with caution. He was aware that he was a delicacy for these aerial predators, nothing but a meal to them. He had to tread carefully if he didn't want to become Harpy food. However, he was unsure if the Harpy viewed him as a food source, seeing as he- identified by the masculine voice- never laid a talon on him.

" Does Kagaya-san need us in his presence?"

" No,"

The Harpy lowered his upper torso, bending it to be on eye level with the aquatic being.

" he does not need us in his presence."

Tomioka made a small frown, eyes squinted in confusion at the words that left Shinazugawa's- as Tomioka called him- mouth. The confusion did not leave his features, not until a talon pinned him against the rock, on his back. His back arched from the sudden contact of the cold surface, eyes widened as they stared at the purple ones that glared at him.

" It is you."

" What are-"

" It's your late night swimming that irritates me."

" Shinazu-"

" NO! Every time I patrol, I always see you swimming late at night!"

His jaws clenched in anger, body shaking with rage.

" And tonight is NO different! You think I don't notice the smallest of hints that you have insomnia?! Or the details like the dark circles under your eyes known as eyebags?!"

He growled, snarling at the being under his taloned foot, wings opened slightly to prove his point, to imply what he meant by his words. Tomioka just stared at him in disbelief, as if the Harpy had said that he had commited a crime...

" Don't try to hide it! I can see it from a mile away! Even Iguro can smell it from a mile away!"

" Sh-"

" No-! I am DONE watching you swim late at night when Iguro and I are on patrol!"

The pressure on the Siren's chest increased, before he was lifted up, off of the cold floor as his tail laid limp on the ground beneath. He had never seen the Harpy this irritated before, let alone concerned for his wellbeing. A warmth blossomed in his chest at the thought of someone caring for him.

" And I am going to do something about it."

He said dangerously low, above a whisper and his voice dripped with anger. Not only that, but the talons brought his face closer to Shinaguzawa's.

Before he could say anything, the lips in front of him parted, reavealing a cavern of flesh. Strands of saliva clung on the roof an anywhere it could cling onto, a tongue slipped out to give him a taste. He didn't react to it, however, as his attention was drawn to the pearly white teeth that were sharp and could snap him in half, crush bone. He was in a state of shock, not able to tell his body to move as it failed to co-operate with him.

It closed in front of him, and he stared at Shinazugawa wide-eyed.

" You taste better than I expected."

The Harpy murmured, tilting his head to the side, squinting his eyes in glee, something the Siren never saw.

Before long, the Harpy tilted his head straight and licked his lips. He- he wasn't going to- right? Tomioka felt a wave of panic hit him like a ton of bricks, a slap across the face full force.

The maw opened again and this time, his head was placed inside. He wanted to struggle, to scream and cry out for help, but his body refused, still in shock and trying to process what was going on.

It was warm, very warm. The humid air inside messed with his gills, threatening him to gasp for air a lot nicer than the dry air he was forced to inhale-! But he didn't, he couldn't. His body didn't belong to him as he was swallowed, body sliding down the now tight tube with ease like he was nothing. As if he was a small fish that slid down the throat of a crocodile... His skin got irritated by the dry air, unable to handle the warmth the air inside the Harpy provided. It was unbearable, and quite itchy.

By the time he got his body to struggle, it was too late as his head slipped into a roomier organ, the rest of his body following soon after.

It was hot, humid and with a liquid that filled tbe organ, stopping the itching he felt on his skin and scales. He panicked, body jerking away at the sudden pressure on his back. His eyes wide as realization of where he was dawned on him. He was in Shinaguzawa's stomach, a place he feared the most.

" Shinazugawa-san! Let me out!"

He panicked, body about ready to hyperventilate as the shock wore off, adrenaline the new booster to help his body to hyperventilate. His body shook.

" Let me out! Please! I beg of you!"

He yelled, trembling as his eyes were blurred by the tears that formed, jerking as a sob left his form. He held his head with both webbed hands, covering his finned ears that flattened against his head and closed his eyes, gritting his teeth. The waterfall got out of the walls known as tear ducts.

" Please- please Sanemi! Please! Pleasepleasepleaseplease-"

He repeated, unable to do anything but beg Sanemi to let him go, to not let him die in this place other sirens had died.

<_>_<_>

He stared at his middle in shock, where his hand would've been if he had human arms rested on the slightly bulged area his "meal" was in, begging for his life to be spared, pleading.

Did- did he not realize that he... oh no-! Oh nomonononono! He didn't-

Panic enveloped his body when he was called by his first name. Did his insomnia affect him to the point of not thinking rationally? That him and Tomioka were a thing? This- oh god... The thought of digesting a living creature and his mate alone made him sick.

He rubbed his middle, trying to soothe and calm the the hyperventilating Siren down as best as he could while he hummed.

" Hey- hey-! It's okay! It's okay!"

He wanted to calm down his poor mate, tried to reassure him that he was not in any danger- that they have done this before with comforting words! But they didn't leave his throat after he spoke or tried to speak again. The words evaporated from the tip of his tongue.

All he could do was push thrpugh it all and just head back to his place located on a massive and broad seastack where a cave was.

He opened his wings and crouched down, jumping in the air and took off, heading back to his cave- his home. He couldn't use words to calm Tomioka down... he'll just hope that he realizes that he is safe-

His feathered ears twitched as he heard shaky breathes, the heartrate of the siren inside the organ slow and at a pace he was familiar with- that he grew fond of. He sighed in relief, in time to land gracefully on the edge of the cave.

His talons scraped against the stone beneath them as he entered, checking his surroundings to make sure that nothing was out of the ordinary. Besides Genya sleeping in the mest he built for him.

It was a long night, and restless one. He was tired, wanting to gain energy for what the next day wpuld bring. He stopped in his tracks and laid down like a bird, eyes closing as he focused on the weight in his crop. He'll rest his eyes for a few minutes... It wouldn't kill anyone if he rested a little, right?

And so, he dosed off, joining his brother and Giyu in dreamland where everything that had happened was nothing more than an old and bad memory.

The End

Sorry if this is not what you wanted, but I did enjoy writing it! It was a lot of fun to play with these two boys I ship so much!

[smolgloves]

The perfect Crime: Part 2

Part 1

Summary: Astarion and Freya slip away from the group to do as they please but get in a sticky situation

Tw: dehumanizing language, mentions of murder, vore mention, sexual innuendos, slavery mentions, mentions of sexual slavery

Slipping away from the watchful eye of Wyll, easy. Pickpocketing that Zhentarim trader and slipping the gold ring into his breast pocket without anyone noticing, piece of cake. So slipping away without him noticing should have been child's play, but Astarion didn't get very far before that trader shouted something at him. He stopped in his tracks, already forming a lie in his head for when the accusations came barreling in. 

There was a tickle against his breast, his eyes widened knowing that Freya was squirming around in his pocket. He pressed his hand up against his pocket in an attempt to cease the borrower's struggles, yet she pushed against palm through the fabric. Did that miniscule brain of hers reduce more in size? She's going to get them caught and killed! Gritting his teeth, Astarion demanded her to stop, fortunately she seemed to get the message in time, as a hand grabbed onto his shoulder to spin him around. 

“Something of mine went missing, you wouldn't happen to know about it?” 

“Sounds like you misplaced it.” Astarion smiled, his lies were as natural as breathing. “Not very professional of you since you look to be in charge of the wares.” 

“Watch it, arsehole!” The trader flashed a dagger on his belt. “Or that silver tongue of yours will get cut.” 

Astarion let out a scoff, if only he knew how easily he could rip the vocal cords right out of his throat. 

It seemed the loudmouth trader attracted an audience, as the guard from earlier walked over. Gods, they were nearly identical in their atrocious features. If Astarion wasn't trying to get out of this with no bloodshed, he'd kill them for assaulting his eyes!

“Something wrong, Brem?”

“Yeah, thinking this faerie knicked a ring from me.” 

“Really? You think I'd risk getting killed for a bloody ring?!” Astarion spat out so convincingly that even he could believe his own lies. 

“What's that in your pocket?” The guard kept his gaze on Astarion, studying for any giveaways. “I saw ya fiddling with something in your pocket.” 

Astarion cursed under his breath, swearing he'll bite Freya in half if they get out of this alive! He tentatively dug his fingers into his pocket for the ring, only to have tiny arms wrap around them, what in the nine hells was she doing? Astarion attempted to push her aside, except she wouldn't budge, she pulled his fingers further into her, attempting to force him to curl them around her. It didn't take long to realize what she was doing. 

In a swift motion, the borrower was plucked out of the safety of his pocket and into the light. Astarion eyed her as his thumb and forefinger pinched her sides, the familiar shape of a ring wrapped around her waist beneath her clothing, hidden from all but the two. So that's why she was squirming? Clever girl, but did she anticipate that she would have to be revealed to a couple of Zhent traders? If she did, she couldn’t hide her panic from him at least. Her heart pounded against her chest, her eyes locked onto his, refusing to glance behind her to see the two Zhents. 

The guard narrowed his eyes at Freya. “Is that a fucking pixie?” 

“No Garias, I think they're called borrowers.” Brem corrected. “I believe cousin Orvul had one before.” 

There was a hungry tone as he spoke. It was enough to make even Astarion's skin crawl. Brem moved closer to look Freya in the eyes, those gray eyes dilated when she saw this unfamiliar man staring down at her like a piece of meat. There was no need for screaming; the fear was written all over her face, similar to the night she was caught by everyone in camp. 

“She's cute.” The trader spoke. “Your little slave, I take it.?”

“Why of course!” Astarion gave a haughty laugh. “Why else would I keep a pipsqueak in my pocket?” 

Tiny fingers tightly curled against his thumb, it was almost adorable feeling Freya attempt to subtly hurt him, but she'll have to get over it. The stupid Zhents had completely forgotten about that ring and offered a perfect cover story. 

“A four inch slave?” Garias scoffed. “She toss grapes into your mouth when you're too lazy to grab ‘em yourself?” 

“Forgive my brother, he's more of the muscle between the two of us.” Brem let out a laugh. “He never understood the profit that can be made by these beauties.” 

“Oh there's no offense taken, not everyone has the chance to tame such feisty little creatures.” He raised her up to his face, giving her a devious grin. “It took about a week to get this one to quiet down.” 

Oh, if looks could kill, the pale elf would be dead on the spot! He had to admit, it was surprising that Freya held her tongue for this long but perhaps traveling with him helped her grow a brain. 

“You know, it's been a while since I've seen these lil’ buggers in a while, especially one so well behaved.” Brem gave a toothy grin. “Wouldn't mind parting with some gold for some alone time with her. Garias could… try her out and finally see what the big deal is.” 

Gods below, how utterly repulsive of them. This whole conversation with them had left a bad taste in his mouth but after hearing exactly what they were going to do, Astarion feared he was going to vomit up that bear blood he got earlier. Fingers slowly coiled around Freya's waist to protect her from the lustful gaze of the two men, he's been on the receiving end of those stares before. “Sorry, but I don't share my toys.” 

“Then why not name a price? A borrower like that would go for hundreds maybe even thousands.” 

“Tempting, but I am in no mood to seek out another borrower and have to train them again.” Growing tired of this conversation, Astarion stepped back from them “Now if you'll excuse me, I need somewhere private to… whet my appetite after all this talk.” 

Fortunately, the men didn't bother to integrate him any longer. With quick and light steps, Astarion easily slipped away from anymore Zhents and retreated to the shadows, his eyes darting around the cavern before uncurling his fingers.

“Your toy?” Freya folded her arms across her chest. “Really?” 

His lips curled into a smirk. “Oh come now, don't act like you didn't enjoy the idea.”

“I think I'd rather get swallowed whole.” She fired back. “Less degrading.”

“Perhaps, I'll make that arrangement next time.” He let out a titter, before trailing his eyes towards her waist. “I must admit, hiding the ring beneath your clothes was a bold move. I'm impressed.” 

Her harsh glare melted into a softer gaze. “Y-You are?” 

“Of course darling! I didn't think borrowers could be so clever.”

Freya threw her hands up and sighed. “Would it kill you to give a genuine compliment?” 

“Maybe,” He quickly moved Freya towards his pocket, tilting his hand to slide her back into the safety of the cloth. “But we should get back to the group again so we can get out of this vile place. Then perhaps I can come up with a better compliment for someone despite your… stature.”

Freya muttered in agreement and shifted around to a more comfortable position. She didn't dare move once Astarion got moving, but he felt her rest her head against his chest. It was a small touch of warmth he had grown to enjoy feeling when she traveled with him. To think, someone so small could radiate such heat, to be able to seep past his clothes and reach his skin. 

[jack-the-nibbler]

Voretober Day 5: Woods

Don't wander too far into the forest, that's where the strongest Pokemon like to hunt.

When you stopped at the village’s Pokemon Center that afternoon, one of the townspeople warned you to take caution in the weald leading to the next route. She had said that it was teeming with ghost type Pokemon who preyed upon trainers who got in over their heads. This naturally had you curious. You already had to brave the haunted woods, and with two badges under your belt considered your growing team to be decently strong. Not to mention this would be a great opportunity to add a ghost type to the party. Already you were hoping to find a Misdreavus or Pumpkaboo, but you’d be happy with just about anything.

You set off into the Dismal Weald, your three Pokemon at full energy and bag full of potions and balls. The trees above stretched outwards like claws, dark leaves blocking out the late afternoon sunlight. The soft moans of ghost Pokemon were distant, enough to make your hair stand on end. It was appropriately eerie, but you pressed on. You weren’t scared of any ghosts!

As you ventured into the tall grass, taking out a few Bellsprouts and Pidoves, you found it odd that there weren’t many Pokemon around. Sometimes you caught a glimpse of a Gastly leering at you, only to vanish a split second later. You’d heard that a stronger Pokemon in the area might scare some of the others away…but what could be wandering around here that would frighten everything else?

The sudden feeling of a powerful presence sent a chill down your spine. Your confidence was melting away, the sound of a rumbling growl making you afraid to turn around. You wanted to just run, but it might get you lost in this shady place. Taking a deep breath, you gripped a Poke Ball and tossed it as you turned, releasing your Vulpix to stand against your foe. Immediately you wished you hadn’t.

A Dusknoir hovered mere feet away, his single red, glowing eye fixed on you. This Pokemon was way above your level, more than capable of sweeping your team. He didn’t look like he’d let you run away easily…you swallowed your nerves, deciding to just try and distract the ghost long enough to flee.

“Vulpix, use Incinerate!” you commanded. The fox nodded and exhaled a concentrated stream of flame at the towering spirit. He shrugged off the attack and lurched forward, the mouth on its belly opening up. While you braced yourself for an undoubtedly strong attack, something entirely worse happened. Instead of striking, a long, golden, spectral tongue slithered out of its mouth and wrapped around your Vulpix. 

You stared in horror, unable to move an inch. Even if you could, would you have the heart to just run away and abandon your partner to her fate? As the Dusknoir floated closer, licking his lips, you snapped out of it and scrambled for your Bayleef’s Poke Ball. If you could just get one Sleep Powder off, you could try and save Vulpix! But you weren’t fast enough-Dusknoir held you tight in his large hands, preventing any sort of counter or escape.

You shuddered as the massive ghost pressed you against his large belly, giving a low, pleased rumble. That tongue, dripping with slime, pressed against your legs before slowly sliding its way all the way up your body. As the spectral muscle lapped up your face, you were left shivering within Dusknoir’s hold, painted in a thick layer of ectoplasmic saliva. Dusknoir gave another pleased rumble before wrapping his tongue around you, pulling you into his dark, gaping maw. 

Your scream was swiftly muffled by the Dusknoir’s jaws clamping shut around you. You were sealed away in warm, damp darkness with no possible escape. You kicked as hard as you could, but it only created faint bulges on the outside of Dusknoir’s body. Fear seeped in as you thought about all those stories of the Gripper Pokemon devouring souls, leaving only the body behind. Were you destined to die young? Was this the Reaper claiming you, or a mere accident that would spell the end of your journey?

There was a nuzzle against your side and a whimper. You had almost forgotten about Vulpix, now as slimy and frightened as you were. She snuggled up into your arms as you hugged her, taking some comfort in her natural warmth. You felt awful about unintentionally condemning your beloved Pokemon to the same fate. Maybe if you were lucky, this wouldn’t hurt, maybe the afterlife wouldn’t be so bad…

Minutes passed, and nothing happened. You and Vulpix appeared completely fine, still very much alive. You were confused, but mostly relieved. There still wasn’t any way out…it was still dark, and all you could make out was that large, thick tongue resting underneath you. The combination of darkness and warmth, both from the environment and the fire type you were hugging was taking a toll after a long day of traveling. Though you were hesitant, sleep was closing in on you. Maybe you could afford to close your eyes for a few minutes…

Outside, the Dusknoir gave a content purr as he rubbed over his stomach. He technically didn’t need to eat, and had no desire to take you or any of your Pokemon into the Spirit World. He simply loved the feeling of a warm, living being filling him up, and a trainer happened to be the perfect size. The ghost type patted his gut, floating off deeper into the Dismal Weald. For now you were safely tucked away-come sundown, you would wake up in a patch of flowers just outside the woods, completely unharmed and having a fourth Poke Ball resting in your hand…

[gt-daboss]

PART 2

awqeqfasdat PART 2 I couldn't help myself. Poor Tiny is okay! But they've been kidnapped and now they're even further away from home. Plus, it was only moments before when the giant was about to eat them, can they really trust her?

Ahhhh tomorrow part 3 I am going to CRAM this minicomic out like my life depends on it!!

Part 1 << >> Part 3

Tagging @writing-forever and @fishtale88 since you both seemed interested earlier

[maw-and-pawp]

I've been having some hurt/comfort thoughts for awhile now. I might make some ocs around this. SFW, platonic (queerplatonic?), victim blaming, blood mention, background murder, found family, angst and fluff, vore-adjacent.

A pred and a prey duo, in an unlikely friendship. The pred is smaller than the prey, and is somehow vegetarian, but is definitely still intimidating to the prey due to their long claws and sharp teeth and stoic face. They're aware that they come off as threatening to others, and do their best to be kind with their actions, and hide their claws in thick gloves. Besides, if no one knows exactly what they're capable of with those claws, then the chances of being traced back to their "nightshift" are low.

The prey is a survivor of an almost fatal digestion, and they would've been just another victim if their pred hadn't saved them and brought them to a hospital in time. Since then, the prey has both developed trauma from the encounter, and a fragile bond with the pred. The pred insisted to give them their number, afterall. To call just in case they needed help again. For anything.

They started talking, and one thing led to another, and now it's a common occurrence to find the pred in the prey's apartment, taking care of stuff the prey can't always manage on their own now. Making sure the prey doesn't forget to care for themself, helping them run down to the laundromat, cooking for the both of them when the prey can't get out of bed. The pred has been helping them when their family is either too far away to, or blames the prey for what happened (you wouldn't have been taken if you hadn't been alone that night, we raised you better than to go to a mixed bar, let alone by yourself). Because of that, they keep the pred's night time habits to themself, and pointedly do not ask about the faint smell of blood whenever the pred shows up in the mornings. They don't want to know (and they'd like to keep plausible deniability, thank you).

The prey's been going to a support group for others like them. People who were lucky. Someone suggested something like exposure therapy once, mostly as a joke (which wasn't well received). Which...honestly at this point, the prey is tired of being a live wire after what happened, and they would do just about anything to just Go Back To Normal now. So the idea stuck. All they had to do is work up the courage. The prey doesn’t fully trust the pred afterall. They can't after what happened, and what they know the pred is doing to other preds. It's not illegal, technically, if sufficient evidence is found that it truly was in spontaneous aid to a caught prey. But it's not spontaneous. And the pred isn't going to court.

But the pred did say that it was ok to ask for help, even for the 'small' things. Not once have they made them feel like they were anything other than a person...a dear friend. Right. A dear friend. It would be fine.

So they ask to listen to the pred's stomach one weekend. The pred is flustered, confused, stoic face twisted up into a look something like they just got slapped in the face with a fish. Which would be funny, if the prey's heart wasn't trying to run out of their chest from nerves. They quietly explain what they mean to the pred, and the pred's eyes soften in understanding, face unscrunching into something once again unreadable.

The pred is...awkward. If the prey wasn't wholly consumed with their own worries, they would've picked up on the pred's rigid stance as fears of their own...They can't remember the last time someone had touched without the intention to hurt, or to take. And they need to be calm, or their big prey friend will be on edge and that would defeat the point. And their friend deserves to feel safe. Heaven help anyone who takes that away.

They set up in the living room. A cushiony chair is pulled up - a small couch really - and they somehow maneuver the pred to sit in it and the prey to kneel without saying a word. Lots of awkward shuffling, and a pillow for the prey's knees later, and the prey is nosing into the pred's stomach gently.

It's tense underneath their face, and the prey can hear the pred's breath hitch when they first make contact. Slowly, the pred relaxes into the touch, when pain doesn't come. The pred still grips the seat like a lifeline. (It's dizzying, to be so vulnerable, and to do it on purpose)

Then, the prey takes a breath, and presses their ear to the rumbling gut beneath them (it was just before lunch, like they planned). It whined and begged and burbled, warm and hungry. It sends a cold jolt of fear through them, making them freeze. It sounds so loud, so needy, just like it was when it was all around them that night when the acids started flowing in -

Tears are wiped away before they even know it exists. The pred strokes a finger gently through the fur between their eyes, hesitant but firm. They hush the prey, remind them that it's safe. They can stop if they need to. They don't even have to do this at all. They sound close to tears themself. The prey looks up into their face.

The gaze is piercing as it always is. But not unkind. They really would stop if the prey gave the word. They'd get up and get on with their days, and the prey wouldn't be just a meal stewing away inside their pred friend. The pred is more hungry for the tofu in the fridge than them, and their pred is a full head shorter anyways. Even if they wanted to, their pred couldn't take them past the point of no return.

(They wonder what it's like to be so short. Preds were usually a head taller than the prey or more. Perhaps their pred isn't a vegetarian by choice at all - they can't catch anyone being so small. They might also not be quick and strong and lethal by choice either...it must be easy to confuse the pred for a prey, or it might not functionally matter to some)

Armed with this knowledge, the prey nuzzles back in without a word. Their pred's breath hitches again, and comes out shaky when the prey snakes a hand upwards to run their thumb gently over their clothed lower belly. The same comforting little circles that their pred had been rubbing between their eyes a moment ago. They tense along with the motion, and the prey goes rigid again as the wet glorps roar again under their sensitive ears, announcing to the world just how much their pred's tummy was enjoying the attention (even if it would prefer attention from the inside at the moment). The prey counts the pred's climbing heartbeat, and stubbornly holds on even as they (both) shake in restrained fear. As the hour passes, they've never felt so safe and yet so afraid.

They decide that it's been a productive day, schedule another encounter next weekend, and break for lunch. No, the prey did not eat the last of the tofu, thank you very much. They much prefer the beansprouts anyways.

[pipinpali]

Unlike

—--

1/?? — Screwed Up

Next part ->

TW!: blood, injury, mentions of death, language, violence

Word count ~ 1000 words

—--

Randall crawled out from beneath heap of metal scraps and junk which was supposed to be the entrance of his home; evident by the old carvings on one of the pieces of cardboard from the couple of kids that liked to follow him around.

'These storms are more of a problem than I thought,' the smallfolk bristled. He sighed, deciding to get to fixing it later, and brushing away the feeling.

He was a busy man with deals to make and suckers to cheat. With his self-built confidence, he adjusted his scarf, tugged at his socks, slicked back his hair, and brushed off his coat. Content with his look, he made his way through town.

Unfortunately, travel wasn't the easiest thing in the homey town (which Randall had never learned the name of in all of his 9 years living there), in fact, it was one of the hardest.

Randall dashed towards the exit of the dark alley, stopping abruptly before he was cast in the light of the orangey last hours of sunshine. He peeked around the corners for the beast that made him believe the "man's best friend" title was bullshit. Good thing for him, all he could see was the metal rod in the ground and the thick chains that it was usually tied to. He was relived he didn't have to climb up the old downpipe today.

There was still dangers that Randall had to face, the most important being one of those big people. Despite the charismatic smallfolk's rather impressive height of 12.7 cm, amongst giants; he was thought of like a rat.

With that in mind, Randall carefully, cautiously, stayed near the towering apartment buildings, making sure he wasn't close to the middle of the sidewalk where all the foot traffic of a couple of people here and there was. Over the half hour or two he was scampering along, there were a few close calls of almost being spotted, but he prevailed and made it to his destination.

Readying himself, Randall jumped and caught his hands on the grooves of the decorated stone which acted somewhat like a ladder for the folks that visited. He climbed -- ableit with a bit of struggle -- up the massive building, one that was home to the Bright Market, the "hot-spot for money making." Heaving himself onto the back of the large, glowing sign that read something along the lines of "Pet-ee's," he was met with familiar sight of the bustling stalls.

Randall knew where he needed to be, as did the fools who accepted his offer. Little did he know, though; that it might be his last.

He walked towards the back of market, nearing the edge of the vast roof-top, where he saw the same brute of a man sitting on a makeshift bench; the one who asked for his services in the first place.

The conman leaned against a post, eyeing the client with his usual confident gaze, the phantom of an amused smile on his face. "So, you got the bits?" He inquired.

"I've heard from a friend that you have quite the reputation, Mr. Franklin," the toned man stated with his deep, gravely voice, his fingers tracing his whiskers.

Randall bristled. He didn't tell the man his last name. Things sudden felt a lot less safe. From the corner of his eye, he could spot a handful of others nearing where they were conversing. "...I see you have," he responded, attempting to keep up his charismatic demeanor, though; the change in tone made it known that he had a good idea as to what was going on.

"...They said they wanted the money back," the man said, finally making eye contact with Randall. He sat up at an intimidating height, slowly walking up to meet Randall at just a couple inches of distance. Something was definitely wrong.

The he dared to try and dart off to the side before things got messy- being gutted in the stomach, now pinned between the wall and the brutish man's arm before he could even get two steps away.

Randall struggled to get free, his legs kicking against the other's, searching for to get back to the floor as his hand scrambling to grab at his side for his dagger which had fallen onto the floor.

His eyes widend as the man drew back his arm; fist tightened.

Shit.

...

...

...

In his blurry vision, he squinted, trying to make sense of the growing lights and the loud growl that sounded louder and louder as a silhouette became more clear--

Randall had figured out it was a car before the very second he was nearly run over. 'Those assholes tossed me on the road while I was unconscious!' he realized. Before he could get too angry about it, adrenaline buzzed in his head. He needed to get somewhere safe before something killed him.

As Randall attempted to stand, a shot of pain in his legs knocked him back to the ground. He reeled, sucking in air before he let out a strangled cry. 'Don't do that again,' he noted to himself.

Pitifully and painfully, he reached out his arms and started pulling himself through the gravely pavement, his body scraping against the rough texture as all nine of his fingers grasping and a few prayers setting him on his way.

After a while, the smallfolk's sensitive ears perked up at another noise — this time not a massive car barreling towards him — but instead, it was the stirrings of rain. It didn't take long for him to pelted with the sudden downpour.

Randall idly thought about giving up, yet the illuminating, towering street light ahead, standing out admists the dark, filled him with an odd and unfamiliar sense of hope.

He was close, he could leave this okay.

With that, the now determined and drenched smallfolk trudged through the ever growing puddles, nearing the sidewalk. He thanked the gods that there weren't any big people out at this hour.

Randall was so determined, in fact, that he didn't pick up the final noise over the rain.

The most important one.

It wasn't until the light had flickered that the little conman's focus had faltered, the instinctual reminder to scan his surroundings only now ringing in his head. His mildly articulated ears perked up at the sound of something distant, almost sounding like scraping thuds...? It was rythmatic, a set pace. And like the car, it neared closer, and became louder.

Randall almost shrieked at the sight of two giant work shoes that appeared far too early and far too close, accompanied by two impossibly long legs, arms, and... -He couldn't run, he realized, nor hide. He was at the mercy of a big person of all things.

He was screwed.

Wowie kazowie lookie here!! Me? Writing?? Impossible!

—--

Im planing on making more of these but this is just here for now incase

their first meeting!! First time writing something like this,,

I made a drawing before right here of the final scene ,

[st4rsinthenight]

★very specific ahh g/t trope of the night:★

CONTENT WARNING: mention of blood, the giant could be depicted as a yandere.

★werg. giants that- giants that try to gently coax a tiny out of hiding but with a small twist. Giants that promise tinies that they won't hurt them if they decide to show themselves to them, meanwhile the giant's eyes hold a crazed look, an unsettling smile is etched on their lips and their shaking hands are covered in blood as they, almost impatiently, wait for the terrified tiny to come to them willingly.★

[a-chaotically-small-lunta]

So I was responding to this post When an idea popped into my head. Hear me out, a village of giants living peacefully in a valley away from the whole world for years and years. They never needed to change their ways and didn’t know what lay beyond the mountains that surrounded their huge valley.

Until one day someone appears, a tiny little adventurer. The giants are hesitant cause they’ve never seen such a creature, meanwhile the tiny is scared…until they realize that these giants are scared. The tiny calms them by showing them they mean no harm and showing them neat tools and items they had brought along. The giants find these things interesting and begin to trust the tiny adventurer. The tiny eventually leaves but comes back every so often, trading goods with the giants and learning about the giants.

Until one day the tiny comes back greeted by a group of happy giants, who only realize that the tiny is not alone. They’ve brought hundreds of other tinies who are all wearing armor and carrying weapons. The tiny army takes over the village, killing any giant that resists and any giant they feel like killing. It’s a blood bath and the remaining giants are horrified. How could their little friend do this to them? The army demands all the valuables and supplies from the remaining giants, who fearing they could be killed, gather what is requested and give it to the army. The remaining giants watch as the army leaves wondering if they had managed to escape a horrible fate. A year later the army returns and repeats the process demanding items and goods, killing anyone who resists. They repeat this every year and the giants fear when the army will come and they don’t know what they can do to stop them. They just pray and hope that the army will dwindle away or perhaps the tinies will change their minds, but every year they are proven wrong. Children are taught to give up things they love and need in order to survive the tiny army, lest they be killed. The army doesn’t care who resists, whether it be an adult or a mere child. Hell sometimes when every giant does what is said the army picks five random giants to torture for fun. Perhaps years past of this torturous life and one day a giant is found by a tiny. The giant pleads to be spared and not to be harmed and the tiny sees how terrified the giant is. This tiny has no idea about the army that comes to torture the giants and decides to befriend the giant, but the giant is terrified cause of the story about how the yearly visit from the army started with what was thought as a simple friendship with a tiny.

Who knows what happens next, maybe they do become friends. Maybe they figure out how to stop the torture. Perhaps every time the tiny raises their voice in anger or their fist the giant flinches away. Maybe the army finds out about this friendship and kills the giant leading the tiny to fight against the army, or perhaps the army kills the tiny leading to the giant to finally break and rampage against the army which only leads to the army pointing at the giants saying “this is why we must break them”