G/t - Blog Posts

Me walking my ass to a random ass giant.

Wow, third post in a row tonight? Let's go. I may or may not be making up for my brief break from Tumblr.

So. As children, we all thought there was a monster under the bed or a demon in the closet, right?

Well, are there borrower equivalents of this?

Like, some horrifying monster that fits in the walls? That can take a borrower child in their sleep?

And I also have a vague story cooking up in my head where the closet demons are real, and one catches a borrower trying to steal a paperclip from the d

Arts and crafts desk in a human child's room, and the borrower is utterly terrified, because they thought humans were the most scary things, but this thing that is in the humans house is bigger, more menacing, and is literally made out of the darkness of the closet. So, now this borrower never goes into that room at night, when the closet demon is there.

Or the monster under the bed.

A borrower, exiting the walls under a child's bed to take a paperclip from the child's desk, gets snatched by the monster that is also under the bed, and then the monster just holds them, clawed fingers surprisingly gentle around the small person.

I will be writing a story about this tomorrow. This specific one, because I am a sucker for fluff that involves the monster under the bed.

I've been hit with more g/t ideas.

Like, astory where a borrower has never really felt like their assigned gender. They didn't know why they felt that way, and went through gender disphoria, and when they get a human friend who is either a member of the LGBTQ+ community, or is an ally, and they help their borrower friend find what feels right, and help them transition to the best of their ability.

Or a story where a borrower helps their human friend come out to the human's friends and family.

I love it. I want to write something like this, but it's, like, midnight where I live and my brain isn't really braining right now. But I want to write one of these one day, and it's going to be my most favorite story ever.

Small edit, I forgot the freaking tags.

I recently got my hair dyed, and now I'm thinking about borrowers convincing a trusted human to dye their hair. It would be chaotic and fun, and I am here for it.

Why am I thinking about this? Good question. I don't know.

Anyway, here's this!

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"Are you sure you want to do this? Because once it's in, you're going to be stuck with it for a while," Lexi said, holding a box containing the purple hair dye, which her very, very short boyfriend was eyeing eagerly from the counter.

"Yes, I'm sure, I've had a lot of time to think about this!" Eli replied, grinning ear to ear, his eyes shining.

About two months ago, Lexi and Eli had been watching a movie, and one of the characters got his hair dyed. And ever since then, Eli had been asking to dye his hair purple. Lexi had finally caved four days ago and told Eli she would buy some hair dye when she got groceries.

And now, with the food for the week put away, Eli was practically bouncing off the walls.

"Okay, last chance to back out," Lexi warned, taking the instructions out of the box, unfolding the paper, and beginning to read.

Once she knew what to do, she took the hair dye out of the box and put on some gloves.

"Do you think we should put some Saran Wrap over the counter so the hair dye doesn't get everywhere and stain the counter purple?" Eli asked, knowing that his girlfriend hated having messy counters.

"That's a good idea," Lexi replied, setting down the hair dye and turning towards the cupboard that held the plastic wrap. "I doubt this will be a very messy process, but it never hurts to be safe."

The human returned to the counter with a piece of the plastic wrap, setting it across the laminate surface.

Lexi picked up the hair dye and started to carefully apply it to her tiny boyfriend's hair.

"Oh, wow, that is unexpectedly cold." Eli laughed, the feeling of the hair dye against his scalp an odd and unfamiliar sensation.

"Hold still, would you? I don't want to get dye on your skin." Lexi replied.

Although she wouldn't admit it, Lexi loved being trusted by Eli enough to do things like this. She loved being trusted with touching him, holding him, and handling delicate parts of his body like his head. Eli never once worried she would hurt him, never once hesitated to be physically affectionate with her on the pretense she might accidentally hold him too tight or drop him.

It took about ten minutes for Eli's hair to be completely purple. And now they had to wait an hour for the pigment to stick.

"What do you think we should do while we wait?" Lexi asked, taking the gloves off her hands so she could hold Eli.

"Not sure. Maybe watch a movie? We could watch that one that you’re always talking about like a proud parent talks about their kid." The borrower replied, walking across the plastic-wrapped counter, which did end up getting a little hair dye on it, to be closer to his girlfriend's hands.

Lexi picked him up, walked to the living room, and was careful not to get any hair dye on her hands.

"You said you didn't like that movie." Lexi teased, getting the DVD from a shelf in the living room.

"Well, you like it," Eli said defensively, getting into a more comfortable position on her hand. "I only suggested it because it makes you happy."

"You're adorable." 

“Am not.”

“Yes, you are. You’re very adorable.”

“Shut up.”

When the movie finished, the pair went back to the kitchen to finish dying Eli’s hair. The last step was rinsing the dye out, so they used the kitchen sink for that.

A smile appeared on Lexi’s lips as the two of them bantered. She turned the TV on and put the disk in the DVD reader, then she sat down on the couch, and the movie started.

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

“How do you propose we go about this, sunshine?” Lexi asked, standing by the sink.

“If you fill a bowl up with water, I could rinse my hair out that way,” Eli replied, shifting how he was sitting, how he could look up at her.

“Sounds good,” Lexi said, setting her hand on the counter so Eli could hop off. She grabbed a shallow bowl out of a cupboard, filled it with water, and then set it down on the counter so Eli could rinse his hair.

Watching him go about doing things, even mundane things like this, could always enthrall Lexi. She would always wonder what it was like for him before he met her. She knew he rarely had enough food, and getting anything was a risk, but what about things like bathing? How did he manage to get water to bathe? Or soap? Did he cut a sliver of bar soap off to use, or did he do something else?

“Everything alright there, love? You look a little spacey,” Eli said, his voice cutting through her thoughts.

She hadn’t realized she was staring.

“Sorry, just lost in thought,’ she replied.

“Alright. Well, I’m done rinsing my hair now, could I have something to dry it, please?”

At his request, Lexi got him a hand towel to dry his hair with. It was bigger than he was, but he used it just fine. Lexi smiled when he was done, his now purple hair taking on a shaggy, wet look.

He’s so pretty…

Lexi caught herself staring again and made herself look away, hoping Eli didn’t notice. But he did. He always did.

He would probably tease her about it later.

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Finally, an actual story and not just a concept!

This was longer than I anticipated, but I'm not going to make it any shorter. It is mostly banter, and I am okay with that.

I love these two. They're the unfortunate souls I picture for most of my g/t story concepts, so expect to see more of them in the future.

And, for whoever needs this reminder, stretch and drink some water! Stay safe, and take care of yourselves, pookies <3

I'm thinking about borrowers playing boardgames.

Specifically Monopoly.

Think about it. It's wonderful. They could be their own piece on the board.

Borrowers painting their human friends nails.

Imagine the detailed designs they could make!

I also have the image if a borrower covered in nail polish in my head. Because there's no way that wouldn't happen. Nail polish gets everywhere.

Hello!

I have g/t brain rot and I want to write a story, but I suck at writing, so I'm going to throw out the thing that's been consuming my mind for the last couple hours.

I have a scenario in my head where there's a human who has sizeshifting abilities, and they find a borrower while human size, and they shrink so they don't freak the borrower out, but the borrower is even more freaked out now that the human is their size, because how is this possible and, obviously, what if this human drags me out of saftey or whatever so they can indulge in sadistic pleasures?

I have no clue where to start a story with this, but I love the idea.

On an unrelated note, this is my first Tumblr post! Yayyyy!!!

as a big woman enjoyer I approve this message

Umm i think some of u guys should stop acting like female giants are bad or inherently sexual 🤗 why is every other aspect of g/t able to be nonsexual but as soon as its giant women u guys start tweaking like its the worst thing that could ever happen. Shut up and get some game!

me creating a giant oc: so I have a detailed analysis of their height, how interactions with larger and smaller beings would go, accurate comparisons of size relativity, difficulties caused at their size, their attitude towards tinies and the reason thereof, along with all the normal oc creation stuff.

me creating a tiny oc: uhm ok they're like really really smol, about the size of my middle finger. idk what else. go home already

me creating a tiny OC: okay so i have lore, a name, a nickname, a background for their fictional culture, dreams, fears, clothing preferences, i know what foods they like, their allergies, blood type, and i’ve made them an astrology chart

me making a giant OC: they have big boobs. like, that’s it really. idk what else u want me to tell u

I realize that ninety percent of my posts in here are about elden ring and g/t. So I figured I'd drop a cool art I saw to unite the two peoples

https://x.com/Birctreel/status/1815390089578414382?t=fLjxz3vrvCBjwLmq4cERLw&s=19

OMG YOU JUST REKINDLED MY MUSE FOR G/T CONTENT THANK YOU SO MUCH

thinking about Orpheus and Eurydice but g/t and i can’t tell which is worse

giant Orpheus with tiny Eurydice. she’s so small, she’s hard to spot even when one does look for her. he’s always kept a careful eye, making sure she was safe and alright, so the idea of her walking in his footsteps out of sight is terrifying to them. every one of his steps is like twenty of hers, so he has to go so. agonizingly. slow. to make sure she can keep up. he can’t even sing, because he has to concentrate all of his hearing on the softest footsteps behind him.

alternatively, tiny Orpheus and giant Eurydice. he can hear every one of her steps, when she sighs, when a large teardrop splashes onto the ground. he has to be careful to stay in her sight, but far enough ahead that he has a comfortable distance from the booming steps. he stumbles through half of it with his eyes screwed shut, worried she’ll go a step too far and he’ll get a glimpse of her form. she always did consume his entire vision, something so giant and beautiful you can’t help but look, a deeply rooted instinct he has to fight off with his entire body.

ultimately it doesn’t matter which is more tragic.

he’ll look back at her either way.

GIANTESS KNIGHT GIRLFRIEND x NOBLE HUMAN S/O

- she's incredibly nervous around you.

- being the personal guard of the most important person in her world the world would be nerve-wracking enough, but you being barely the size of her pinky finger only makes it worse.

- she insists that you ride on her shoulder or sit in her cupped, gauntlet-clad palms wherever she goes, regardless of how many times you say you're fine.

-it's definitely not an excuse for her to hold you all the time but whatever

-it honestly gets kind of annoying, or at least it would be if it weren't for the wide, awestruck look she gets on her face every time she gets to hold you.

-she works out constantly to stay in proper shape. Lots of giant-sized push ups, sit ups, and furious blushing when she realizes you see her dressed in athletic wear and slick with sweat

-She wouldn't ever forgive herself if she wasn't strong enough to protect you (even though she could literally solve most problems with a literal flick of her finger)

-its important to note that her nerves only flare up around you specifically. She's actually rather stoic otherwise.

- she speaks in a direct, simple manner normally, but her voice goes up an octave and she's a stuttering mess when she holds you or otherwise interacts with you; she goes from "I will give my all to the kingdom; my heart and soul to the crown!" To "I-Its an honor t-to be given the chance to serve you, y-you grace!" *punctuated with lots of flushing, averted eyes, and nervous laughter.*

-she's quiet around other knights. Not so much shy, but still noticeably nervous about the difference in size.

-the other knights don't help, they spend a lot time trying to use her index finger as a pull-up bar or wrestle her pinky

-there haven't been any injuries regarding her yet, a fact which amazes and confuses her.

- since she not-so-secretly loves it when she gets to hold you, she finds lots of excuses and situations where you could be "in danger."

-"Y-your grace, I understand that the neighboring kingdoms don't *seem* threatening, but as your knight I cannot allow you to go unaccompanied! And since it's a long way, I shall have to carry you to ensure you don't run out of energy. I won't hear otherwise!"

- if you go "missing" (disappear for a few minutes in the bathroom, take a few hours to yourself alone in the woods, etc) she panics.

- she's honestly pretty terrifying when shes scared or angry. while she usually tries to be gentle, the sound of her thundering footsteps has become a sign that she's knocking over trees, wrestling down nearby dragons and other monsters, or frightening any villagers or nobility who might know where you are. Her face hardens, her voice is low and threatening, and while she hasn't harmed anyone yet, she makes it clear that she very well could if she had to

- when she finally finds you, her face brightens instantly, and she simply attacks you with affection.

- *mwah* *mwah* *mwah* "Your grace!" *mwah* *mwah*"I was so worried about you-!" *mwah* *mwah* *mwah* - "Promise me you won't leave my sight like that again!"

-when she pulls away, you're red as a beet and slick with her saliva. She apologizes profusely for this but you both know it's going to happen again.

-in all honesty, you don't really mind

happy gt july!

The Ballad of the Two Travelers: Chapter Three

light content warning for this one, there's death, violence, and mild gore

Chapter Three: Cruelty

Rowan left the blacksmith's, a slight spring in his step in spite of the gloom of the late morning. His village seemed brighter, more upbeat, somehow more alive than usual, though that might have just been the added adrenaline. He didn't let himself get excited too often; life in the Misted Vales was too dangerous and unpredictable for that, but he figured he could let his guard down for the day.

Mr. Kade, the local blacksmith, had finally agreed to let Rowan begin serving as an apprentice, starting tomorrow. Rowan had been begging the old smith for a job since he was fifteen, and now he was finally going to learn to craft tools, armor, and – this is what excited him most – weapons. Finally, he'd be able to take an active stance in the war against the blight and the giants, and he'd be able to keep his mother and sisters safe.

The wind was cool against his face, a welcome sensation against the excited flush that had come over his cheeks. A group of children ran through the streets, caught up in a game of tag or hide and seek, and their shrieking giggles added to the oddly joyful feeling in the air. The scents of something warm and sweet floated from the bakery down the street, and it felt to Rowan as though nature itself was celebrating with him. He listened for a moment, feeling the breeze against his skin and hearing the light song of a bird somewhere nearby. He hadn't heard a bird in weeks!

He heard something else, a low rumbling like thunder in the distance. A storm? It was hard to tell, it was always cloudy around these parts, which made it more difficult to predict the weather. The only totally accurate way to do so was with the aid of a wizard, and seeing as most of them had been wiped out by the giants, that wasn't exactly viable.

Others had noticed the thunder too. The birdsong had stopped, as suddenly as it started, and Rowan noticed the small creature as it fluttered away, a few stray feathers floating to the ground. He saw a couple of heads turning the direction of the rumbling. Strange, it hadn't subsided, even after a few seconds. If anything it was getting louder, more rhythmic, almost like.....

Footsteps.

Rowan's breath caught in his chest, but before anything, he heard a cry go up from the western watchtower:

“Giants! Coming this way, from the Northwest!”

That was the push he needed. Rowan broke into a full sprint towards the tower, pushing past the chaos that had already broken out in the streets, as mothers called for their children, merchants tried to pack up their things in a haste, and the few warriors of the town rushed towards the edge of the village.

Finally, covered in a layer of sweat (whether from fear or exertion, Rowan couldn't tell), he reached the tower. No guard stood at the door, which let him fly up the winding stone staircase with no restriction. He reached the top, where Beren, the watchman, looked to the horizon with a hardened expression on his face. He held a massive warbow in his calloused hands, and his dark eyes were clouded with something, fear or acceptance or anticipation.

“Where?” was the only word from Rowan's mouth, when the dark-skinned man pointed in the distance. Rowan squinted for a moment, then he saw it.

They were a little over a mile away, and roughly fourteen in number; women standing around 100 feet tall and clad in armors of leather. They carried weapons so large that Rowan felt chills just looking at them; the smallest knife he could see was the length of a fully-grown man. They walked slowly, at a methodical pace and clustered together, but anyone could tell they were making a beeline straight towards the village. They'd be on top of them in a matter of minutes

“Rowan,” the watchman said in his deep, calming voice. He laid a hand on Rowan's shoulder, and he managed to keep his voice steady in spite of the approaching storm. “Find your family,” he said in a quiet voice. “We will endure this.”

Rowan nodded, though he felt deep down that the old watchman couldn't have been more wrong. He quickly turned, and ran.

“Mama! Jodi!”

Rowan's screams went unheard against the screams of the other villagers and the rumbling footsteps of the giants, which grew louder every second. The ground shook, and dust filled the air.

“Mama! Jodi! Please, where are you?”

He thought he heard someone call his name, he strained his ears trying to make it out, but he grew distracted by the sight of old Mr. Kade, towering over the cacophonous crowd and pushing through with a massive spear in his hands. He was going the opposite direction of the crowd, towards the giants, and the sight of the man drew many an eye.

At least, until the sight of the first giantess came into view at the edge of the village. Then everyone froze.

She was ruggedly beautiful, an athletic woman who stood level with the watchtower, with tan skin, short brown hair, and a scar over her left eye. In one hand she held a warhammer as long as she was tall, with a head big enough to crush a carthorse beneath it.

In the other hand was a figure, tall and muscular, arms pinned at either side of his body by the woman's fist.

Beren.

Rowan – and the crowd – could see the kind old watchman squirming and struggling. They could hear his yells of defiance as he cursed his captor, and they saw the cold expression on the giant woman's face as she considered the warrior in her hand.

The crowd watched, frozen in horrified fascination, as other giant women appeared at her sides, with their massive weapons in hand and the disgusted expressions on their faces as they looked over the people of Rowan's home. They could see the anticipation and hatred in the cruel brightness of their eyes, and in the way they flexed their fingers against their massive weapons (yet still not as large as the weapon of the first giantess), waiting for some kind of signal.

The giantess at the front, who held Beren like a child with her doll, was still for a moment. It was evident that she was the leader of the party, judging by the glances from her companions and the massive size of her weapon. All that could be heard now was Beren's strained screams and the low, deep breathing of the giants as they waited... waited... waited.

Then the leader calmly placed her thumb over Beren's face, and pressed down, tightening her fist.

There was a dull snap and crunch, and Beren's screams fell away. A few dark drops fell from that horrible fist, and there was a moment of tense, sickening silence.

Rowan had known Beren all his life. He told the village children stories, taught the boys to use a bow and the girls how to swing a sword. That limp, bloody thing, falling to the ground as the giantess opened her hand, couldn't have been Beren....

A hand gripped his shoulder from behind, and he heard the voice of his mother, shaky but determined;

“Time to go. Come on.” Rowan felt a quick birth of relief; at least his family was safe. There was still a chance they could make it out of this.

Of course, right at that moment, the giantess said something, and her kin surged forward. The screams of the crowd pierced the air, and Rowan felt a peculiar sensation in the pit of his stomach as he reached for his mother's hand, but was jostled back by the panicking crowd.

The next few minutes were a blur. Afterward Rowan would only barely recall the scent and sight of something burning, the squelching, crunching sound of his fellow villagers being crushed underfoot. He would somewhat remember a bolt of brilliant blue lightning, and an earsplitting bang followed by an scream that was nearly as loud. He would vaguely recall the leader of the giantesses calling out “You know the drill; kill the men, take the women,” along with the surreal sight of shadows like hands, hands big enough to hold even the largest of men with room to spare, reaching down and plucking people up from the ground.

He'd remember ducking and weaving, tears leaking from his face as he tried to stay calm and find his mother, and he could remember the terrifying sight of gargantuan feet ripping through houses like they were made of sand.

He wouldn't remember how he made it past the wreckage flying through the air, or how he got the massive cut on his forehead. In fact, of all the things that happened on that terrible day, he'd only remember three things as clear as day:

FIRST.

He'd remember the sight of his little sister getting plucked into the air by the back of her dress, her legs kicking frantically and her blond hair flying in the wind as she was dropped into the bag of a giantess dressed shoulders down in steel armor, and he'd remember his mother, coming up out of nowhere and pushing him into the flaming wreckage of a nearby building. Rowan would always remember how his mother met his eyes, an unspoken order to stay put upon her weathered face as a ironclad hand wrapped itself around her waist and jerked her from the ground. He would never forget the horrible minutes that passed, the sounds of screaming and crying slowly subsiding as the remaining townsfolk were either kidnapped or crushed underfoot like bugs. He'd never forget the scents of death in his nose as he crouched, shivering, in the remaining corner of the wrecked house.

He sat there holding back tears and sobs, the sounds of thunder-like footsteps and crackling houses ringing in his ears as the giantesses tore through the remaining buildings, each one searching for any humans who'd hid in their houses and either killing them on the spot, tossing them into her bag, or popping them into her mouth without hesitation. He saw it happen twice, through the gaping hole where the upper floor of the house had been, in ruined houses just beyond the one Rowan hid in, cowered in. Two people he'd known, little more than a bulge down a throat and a burp.

He sat there in silence, praying to all the gods that they wouldn't find him, that his mother and sister were still alive, that he'd make it out of this somehow.

SECOND.

He remembered how the air had left his lungs as a shadow passed over the spot where he hid, and how he'd begun to shake uncontrollably as the sound of breathing, low and yet loud, filled the air around him.

He squeezed his eyes shut, pressed himself as far as he could into the corner, and covered his hand with his mouth, as the outline of a great head came into view just above him.

There was a moment of silence, and Rowan slowly opened his eyes, unsure of what was happening.

He nearly fainted when he saw.

She loomed above him, a dark-haired giantess on her knees as she peered down into the scraps of the house. She had a wild sort of beauty, despite her massive size, with full lips, a freckled face, and dark eyes that held such melancholy in them they almost made Rowan feel pity for her.

She looked straight down at him, her face unreadable, the only thing audible save for the rumblings in the background being the quiet sounds of her and Rowan's breathing, and the muffled sounds of struggling coming from the bag at her side. Rowan's heart pounded in his chest, and his breathing grew more shallow with every second. It was purely the adrenaline rushing through him that was preventing him from vomiting right in front of her. A small part of his brain thought, somewhat stupidly, that that would be embarrassing, to vomit in front of such a beautiful creature.

“Thalia,” a lilting, feminine voice said from somewhere behind them both. “We need to get movin', that lightning spear hurt Ryette pretty badly. You find any more of 'em?”

The dark-haired giantess – Thalia, her companion had said – was silent for a moment more. Then, to Rowan's utter surprise, she said, in a deep, almost soothing voice.

“No. Let's go.”

Without warning, the giantess moved. She stood up to her full height, towering over Rowan like a goddess from the stories of old. Rowan saw her glance in his direction for half a second, before she walked away, her footsteps shaking the ground and bringing Rowan dangerously close to losing his breakfast.

Slowly, the rumblings of the warband faded away, leaving the air eerily silent.

After a few more minutes of waiting, Rowan peeked his head around the corner, taking in the sight of the town.

It had been reduced to little more than rubble and scraps. Smoke rose from the few ruins still recognizable as buildings, the rest now piles of charred wood, stone, and ash. Dark stains, lumps, and smears were visible against the ground; Rowan didn't want to think about what they had used to be.

The village was empty and silent, save for the soft sound of Rowan's own footsteps as he trudged through the dust and destruction. His breathing was ragged, and tears flowed freely down his cheeks as he walked past the imprints of massive feet and hands in the dirt.

He came to the edge of the village, and froze.

There they were, far enough that he could barely even see the glint of their weapons. How did they feel, knowing they just altered dozens of lives and ended dozens more? How did they kill so casually, so effortlessly, almost carelessly?

Rowan fell to his knees, and vomited on the ground in front of him. He tried to hold back the tears, to maintain the steady attitude he'd cultivated since he was only eleven years old.

He failed.

THIRD.

Rowan sat there, weeping. He wept for everything he'd lost in mere minutes – his family, his home, his future. Emotions filled him like a dark miasma, like a weight too heavy for any boy of eighteen to carry. He felt loneliness, he felt despair, he felt the black pit of fear, and he felt something he'd never felt before in his life.

He felt hatred.

He looked at the figures in the distance, and he hated every last one of them. And it was that very hatred which filled him more than anything else.

He felt it spread through his limbs giving him strength to stand on shaky legs and curling his hands into rage-filled fists.

He felt it in his hot, angry tears and in his forced, ragged breathing. He felt hatred coursing through him with such power and vigor, and he swore that they would pay. All of giants, and anything else that dared to stop him. Everything would burn, so help him, as his own home burned.

That hatred, was what fueled him as he limped out of his village, across the lonely fields, and into the nearby woods. He took his hatred with him, but he also left a tiny piece of it behind at the ruined village.

That little piece of hatred sprouted and grew, like a thorn-covered flower wreathed in shadow, and it was that hatred which grew like it grew in that boy's heart.

The flower was darkly beautiful; but it looked out of place, wrong, almost, as it grew throughout the village, flourishing from the hatred of the giants and the boy they had harmed.

It grew twisted and warped, creeping into the cracks and crevices of the ruins, like a malicious corruption, an evil infection.....

The flower was, as Lyra and Tristan would discover, like a foul, shadow-borne, hate-fueled Blight.

G/t writing is rough when you're a character-focused writer who specializes in dialogue and exposition bc you'll be three quarters done with a story before you realize that you've made maybe one allusion to the fact that one of the characters is 100 feet tall and it's done nothing to affect the story 🥲

The Ballad of the Two Travelers, Chapter Two

Chapter Two: First Steps to Friendship

Lyra was having a nightmare. She dreamed of an endless war, a pointless battle fueled by a rivalry fueled by things that should have been forgotten long ago. She dreamed of fire and lightning, clashing eternally in the heavens while the world broke. She dreamed of destruction and chaos, of decay and disease that festered and bred in the cracks of the world caused by that endless, pointless, hopeless war.

She dreamed of the cracks growing, laughing, spreading wider and wider still as hatred seeped within and drove everything further apart, a dark, tentacled miasma, reaching ever further in its will to consume all; this great evil Blight which threatened to consume the whole world.

She dreamed of the cracks already forming among her own people; the bitter, hurting wives, sisters, and daughters who in their hurt chose to hurt others, spreading their hate as they wreaked destruction upon the humans; and the few who begged for peace and were dubbed traitors by their kind. She dreamed of the great dark cavern between giantkin and humankind, a yawning abyss that would surely consume them all if they could not learn to cross it–

“L-Lyra? Lyra! Wake up, please!”

Her eyes fluttered open as she heard the anxious cries of her charge. She sat up quickly, looking around for any signs of obvious danger.

“What troubles thee, little one?” she asked after a moment. “I can sense no danger. Why dost thou cry out? Art thou hurt?”

Tristan shook his small head, and Lyra realized with a start he was quivering.

“I-I'm not hurt,” he said after a moment. “But....”

The human boy glanced at something just behind her. Lyra turned, and realized with a chill that the trees near her feet had been split and knocked over. She realized she must have kicked unconsciously in the throes of her nightmare, and had put the human boy in great danger.

“N-Nightmare?” The small voice of the human boy shook her from her disturbed thoughts. She looked down. His face held a look of such fear and apprehension, her heart nearly broke as her eyes met his.

I offer thee my most humble apologies if I have caused thee any distress. It is the duty of one such as I, who layeth claim to the role of maiden, to ensure that her charge is safe no matter what.”

She gently laid her hand in grass before him, a heavy feeling settling over her heart as he took a half-step backwards.

“Y-You don't have to apologize,” Tristan said with a smile that was clearly forced. His bright blue eyes were wide with poorly-concealed fear.

“Little one...” Lyra wanted to comfort him, to say the right words or do the right thing to reassure her little charge that she wished no harm towards him, but she could think of nothing.

She retracted her hand and laid on her side awkwardly, aware of an uneasy silence between them now. Again she wished she knew what to say, how to overcome the inevitable fear and anxiety on the small boy's part, but but her lips remained shut, and she remained silent.

It had been a little over a week since their meeting in the Misted Vales, and they'd made some progress on their journey. They were a day or so away from a human settlement Tristan had pointed out on his map, at which Lyra hoped to speak to the locals and tell them of their quest. She had hoped that Tristan's presence would inspire a call for peace, but she had to be sure that Tristan really trusted her, which had proven to be easier said than done.

Tensions were high on both their parts. Despite the lack of confrontation from either of them, there was a constant sense of disquiet between them both, a fact which maddened Lyra to no end.

It didn't help that traveling alongside a human was somewhat difficult, at least in the physical sense.

Tristan had at first tried to walk alongside Lyra as they made their way, claiming he was quick enough to keep up (he was not) and nimble enough to keep safe (he was not). Lyra, unconvinced, was therefore constantly on edge, afraid that she'd take one wrong step or careless motion and crush her little charge underfoot. She'd insisted upon carrying Tristan as they traveled, either in the palm of her hand, upon her shoulder, or within her pockets, much to the little one's chagrin. Though Tristan concealed his fear whenever they spoke, Lyra could tell he was just as nervous as she was, if not more. She could see it in the way he cast furtive glances whenever he thought she wasn't looking, and in his high-strung, stuttering manner of speech.

Lyra couldn't blame him. Tristan was barely the size of her middle finger, and was somewhat small and slight in build even for a human. To him, every little movement she made must have been terrifying, let alone the sight of her reaching for him, leaning close, or inspecting his body for wounds. Lyra herself felt nervous whenever her fingers brushed against the human's warm skin, feeling for broken bones or bruises. How easily she could bring him to harm with little more than a thought.... it frightened her just as it frightened him.

Lyra understood it would take time for her companion to get used to her, regardless of how desperately she wanted to connect with him. She would be patient, and gentle, and reassuring, as she always did, but she couldn't help but wonder if too gentle was a thing. Lyra had caught a few embarrassed looks and flushed expressions from Tristan as well as the nervous glances. She had considered that Tristan fancied her, and she wasn't entirely sure how she felt about that. To be sure, she found feelings of a kind blossoming towards Tristan; his small size concealed a kindhearted, curious spirit and a recklessness that seemed rather disproportional to his height (it was a miracle Lyra had only found him with a broken arm, she thought. Only four days ago had she caught Tristan attempting to steal the eggs from a blight-touched vulture, nearly falling from a withered tree at least thrice before running towards her screaming as the monstrous bird swooped down at him). All of this was wrapped up by a cute face framed by dark curls and a smile that, even when marred by fear, melted Lyra's heart every time she saw it. She'd come across many humans in her travels before, but Tristan was the cutest by far.

It was a bit of a conundrum for Lyra. On one hand, it was completely normal for a hero and a maiden to share feelings towards each other (if Tristan held any feelings for her at all, that is). Yet it was certainly unusual for a maiden to be able to pluck up her hero between two fingers and cup him in the palm of her hand. What's more, she wasn't sure she had a crush on her little companion, more of an admiration or appreciation. How desperately she wished to get to know him, for their companionship to become a true friendship!

Yet instead they sat in silence, a bridge of unease between them and neither of them brave enough to take the steps to cross it.

Well, Lyra thought. If I am to change anything, I must take that first step.

Tristan looked so small to her; even as she lay on her side she could have rolled over and smothered him with her waist alone. But she had to try.

“Um,” she said in a quiet voice, as not to scare the boy too badly. “Tristan.... I would ask something of thee.”

The human boy glanced at her but said nothing. Lyra took this as a cue, and pressed on. “Um....well.... if we are to be companions on this journey, I would hope that there would be no tension between us. Thou countenance has been laden with fear since we first met,” she said in a gentle tone as a shadow came over Tristan's face. “I would hope to relieve thee of thy worries as we travel on–”

“Have I been being weird?”

The outburst startled Lyra a little, but she smiled when she saw the bashful expression on Tristan's face. The question confused her a bit, however.

“I-I've been trying to get used to it, I really have,” Tristan said, his voice nervous and shaky. “I know we pledged ourselves to the quest, and that I've been an awful companion, and I'm sorry, it's just so strange to have spent so much time alone on a quest everyone said was a foolish endeavor and a naive, stupid dream, and boom, suddenly someone shows up out of the blue and not only says she'd like to accompany you, but actually wants to serve as a maiden? And I know I'm starting to ramble but really, Lyra, this has been a very strange few days for me, especially because you're a – well, you're a....” Tristan suddenly paused, and Lyra noticed a slight blush come over his face.

“A giantess,” she prompted.

“Yeah,” the human said, nodding hastily. “That.”

There was something in his voice, something he was hiding, but Lyra chose not to pry. She had gotten him to open up a bit. That was promising enough.

“Do not feel ashamed, little one,” she said in a comforting voice, slowly moving her hand closer towards him. “This has been strange for me as well. The path of one who pursues hope is always fraught with uncertainty and confusion. To encounter one such as thee, a human of such young age who would willingly leave his home and all he knew, and would willingly travel alongside the age-old enemy of his people, is astonishing to me. I consider myself blessed to have encountered thee, little one.”

Slowly, gently, she brushed her index finger down his tiny back, figuring it was the best she could do for a reassuring pat. She felt Tristan's body tense up, and her heart froze. Did he still feel such fear, even now? But then, to her joy, she realized Tristan was slowly relaxing, his shoulders slumping and his breathing slowing. Their eyes met, and Lyra saw fear, yes, but also a quiet sort of hope, peaking through all fear and uncertainty.

“Blessed?” he asked quietly, and Lyra's heart sang as a tiny, shy smile came over his lips.

“Yes,” Lyra replied quietly, nodding earnestly. “Blessed, little companion of mine. So please, do not be afraid. I swore an oath, to protect thee and guide thee. I would not let any human come to harm in my presence. Especially not thyself.” She allowed herself a grin. “Thou art mine, in a sense. My companion, my partner.... my friend.”

She gently rested her index and middle fingers over the boy's shoulders, figuring it was the best she could do for a comforting embrace. A warmth spread through her as she felt Tristan reciprocate, hugging her fingers against his cheek.

“Friends,” he said after a moment. “I... well, I like the sound of that. Friends.”

“Tis a simple sort of beauty in the word, no?” Lyra agreed.

They remained like that for some time, enjoying each what little touch of warmth they shared against the coldness of the Misted Vales. Then, Lyra sat up, and gently laid her palm out before him once more.

“Come hither,” she said. “Let us embark once more.”

Her hand was at least twice as long as Tristan was tall. Lyra still marveled at how there could be an entire race of beings that were so small. Yet Tristan had hesitated once more, his eyes looking downward at the palm and fingers that dwarfed him.

There was a moment of silence, long enough that Lyra had just resolved to retract her hand, cursing herself for moving too fast – then Tristan took a step forward, meeting her gaze with a excited sort of nervousness upon his face.

His steps were light, almost imperceptible against the flesh of Lyra's palm. It almost tickled her, but that may have merely been her excitement tickling her instead of the sensation of little feet walking against her hand.

Tristan slowly bent down until he sat, neatly snuggled in her palm. She had an entire life, in the palm of her hand... and what was more, that little life had placed himself there willingly. She hadn't scooped him up hastily, she hadn't plucked him up despite his protests, no, he had taken his life, and placed it Lyra's hands – literally.

She felt a soft tapping sensation upon her palm, and looked directly at the little traveler, forcing herself from her thoughts.

“If we're to be friends,” Tristan said, now wearing a mischievous grin, “I'll have to teach you to speak like a normal person. All those thee's and thou's are giving me a headache.”

Lyra raised an eyebrow, and lightly prodded him in the ribs, but she was smiling all the same.

“We shall see, little one. I am happy to see that thou hast developed a sense of wit in learning to trust me.”

Tristan grinned. Lyra grinned back, and she felt it in her spirit, something ancient and unknowable. She couldn't explain it even if she tried. But there was something in sharing a smile with a friend, something that she would protect as fiercely as she would protect the little life she held in her hand.

Thinking about someone having ptsd after surviving a giant attack.

Like imagine having panic attacks whenever there's a thunderstorm approaching. Being totally fine until that first rumbling sound comes, and you're shaking and hyperventilating. Imagine the fear that comes from seeing a shadow pass over the sun, or being unable to kill roaches or spiders without feeling overwhelmingly guilty. What if you're sensitive to loud noises now. Or, whenever you're in wide open spaces, you stare into the horizon, refusing to sleep, refusing to let your guard down because you know something could appear at any moment, regardless of what everyone else says, regardless of what common sense says. Because you know what could happen if you relaxed for even a second.

Idk just ramblings while working on this next chapter (and a few other stories on the side)

just gonna leave this here

Enemies (?)

AHHH I FINALLY FINISHED THE FIRST CHAPTER OF MY STORY!!!

I've wanted to share a g/t story with you guys for a while, and I'm so happy to finally make that dream a reality! Feedback is appreciated, and I really hope you guys enjoy! These are characters I've spent a good bit of time with in my head, and I'm so happy you guys get to meet them now!

Alright, enough talking. Without further ado, may I proudly present to you lovely g/t fans:

The Ballad of the Two Travelers

Chapter One: The Encounter

Tristan sat beside his little campfire, trying to relieve the tense, uptight feeling in his limbs. His left arm was wrapped in a poorly-done sling; the result of an unfortunate incident with a giant zombified wolf a few days prior. A twilight breeze licked at his skin, nudging little locks of dark curls from his forehead and causing the flames to sputter and twitch every now and then. He prayed that the gods would be merciful and let the wind lighten up; he was too tired to start another fire should this one be snuffed out. He leaned slightly closer to the flames, extending his right hand in an effort to regain some of the feeling in his fingers.

He'd been traveling for weeks across the Misted Vales, a heavy pack on his back and a trusty sword at his side as he made his way through the grey plains, bony forests, and murky swamps that littered the once-fertile lands. The Blight that cursed the realm was spreading, and many a village had fallen from illness and starvation in recent times. Tristan's own village was already plagued with issues of its own– constant monster attacks, lack of soldiers or protection from the now-defunct nobility, and infighting among its inhabitants – and the oncoming blight wasn't helping matters.

No one knew what had started it, but most suspected it was yet another consequence of some long-forgotten war between humanity and its many foes. The Blight was a magical disease that had run rampant in recent years, killing crops and poisoning the living, dooming them to a slow death of madness and decay before succumbing and rising again as an undead. Monsters had already been a threat in the past, but now they brought with them the added nuisance of being much harder to kill. They shrugged off wounds effortlessly, had increased stamina and strength, and they had an increased appetite for the still-living. Such horrors ravaged the Continent, and yet they all paled in comparison to the giants.

For a hundred years, the giants had harbored a relentless anger towards the humans. Groups of them ranging from as little as two to as many as 20 roamed the lands, wiping out any human settlements they could. The majority of them were the angry, vengeful wives, daughters, and sisters of the many giants who were killed in a long-forgotten war, and thus they took advantage of every opportunity they could to take their revenge against the remainder of humanity. Tristan had been lucky enough to not have encountered a giant before, but he'd met survivors of their rage; he'd heard fragmented ramblings of footsteps like thunder, great hands and ferocious roars, and villages left decimated in the wake of beings that towered over a hundred feet tall.

Life in the Continent was so deadly, in fact, that one may wonder why one so young was embarking on such a deadly journey. Indeed, Tristan often wondered the very same thing himself.

For Tristan was on a quest to the great Godbearing Mountain in the far north, where an ancient spring ran that could cure any disease, at least according to the stories he'd heard. If someone were to fetch water from the Godbearing Spring, then perhaps the curse could be undone, and the remaining humans could start afresh. The idea of traveling to the north for the spring had been passed around in the village, but what with the onslaught monsters that roamed the lands, the angry giants who stomped any human into bloody paste upon sight, and the ravenous Blight that was slowly seeping its way into the very roots of the Continent, it had been decided by the village council that a quest wasn't worth the risk. They were to hunker down and try to wait out the chaos around them, something that Tristan couldn't accept. Tristan didn't know how, but he felt deep down that those stories had to be true, that there had to be something that could be done to put an end to this madness. All it took was courage and bravery, like the heroes in the old stories... right?

So Tristan had gathered some supplies, stolen his father's old sword from under his bed, and snuck out of his little village at midnight. He'd been traveling for about two weeks, and he was beginning to regret his decision. He'd come to a rest in the Misted Vales, a wide plain of grey grass and a thick fog that covered the entire area.

Tristan glanced around him nervously. He'd heard plenty of tales about the Misted Vales, but he hadn't expected them to be so.... misty. The fire barely had an impact on the hazy air; he could barely make out anything, near or far.

The thought was not comforting to Tristan, who'd already had his fair share of uncomfortable monster encounters (his arm was testament to this) and wasn't keen on having any more. It sent shivers down his spine to think that just about anything could come from those clouds of thick fog....

Of course, at that moment, there came the sound of a rhythmic rumbling that lightly shook the ground, and a silhouette appeared in the fog, heavily obscured by the mist yet clear enough for Tristan to tell that whatever was approaching, it was close.

Tristan's heart quickened, and he felt the prickly sensation of sweat appearing on his brow. He saw a movement, and nearly fainted as the shape woman emerged from the mist, standing over 70 feet tall. As she approached, Tristan could make out wavy hair and a huge cloak that trailed lightly behind her. Each one of her steps crossed at least forty feet, her boots leaving slight impressions in the ground behind her. Her pace was eerily slow, almost relaxed, not what Tristan would have expected from a rampaging giantess, but it was terrifying nonetheless, as her eyes were hidden behind the shadows of her cowl.

The boy scrambled about on his knees as he hastily gathered his things, wincing to himself as he tried to sling his pack over his shoulder. His eyes darted about the surrounding area for potential hiding spots, areas to widen the distance between him and the approaching threat, anything, but his eyes could hardly make out anything in the thick fog.

Don't panic, he thought, you've come this far. You can handle a giant... you have to.

But as the giant woman grew closer, Tristan found his thoughts to be little comfort. Within moments, she would be on top of him.

He glanced to his left, to the simple broadsword resting a few feet away in its sheath. He hastily crawled over to it, wrapping his fingers around the plain leather-bound hilt, and mentally screaming at the prospect of drawing the sword as the giantess grew closer and closer. He adjusted his position in an effort to face the giant woman, who seemed to be even bigger than he'd guessed now that she was closer. The woman was at least 100 feet tall; the top of Tristan's head barely came up past her ankle. The sight of her leather boots was intimidating, to say the least; Tristan could almost hear the sickening crunch and feel his bones break as the thick soles pressed him into a pulp on the ground....

His hands shook as the shadow of the giantess loomed over him. There was a moment of stillness and a frightening silence, the only thing audible being the thumping of Tristan's own heart in his ears. He gazed up at her, a mixture of nervousness and curiosity filling his heart.

“Greetings, little one.”

Tristan realized with a start the giantess was speaking to him. Her voice was soft and powerful at the same time.

“I am Lyra,” she said, her voice serene as she looked down at him. “It appears that thou art alone in thy travels.”

She gracefully lowered herself down onto one knee, bowing her head slightly to meet his level a little better. Tristan nervously scooted back a few steps. “I would offer thee my companionship,” she finished.

It took a moment before his brain fully accepted what she had said.

“Um.....” he finally answered, his voice hoarse and unsure, “w-what?”

The giantess was silent for a moment. Then she lifted her cowl from her head, revealing wavy brown hair and a fair face with amber-colored eyes. She affixed those eyes upon Tristan now, and her lips curved into a soft smile.

“To travel at all in these broken lands is a trial for even my own kind. Blight, beasts, and monsters alike roam about, seeking prey for food or for pleasure to cross their paths. To do so requires courage, wits, and just a bit of foolishness, as well as trusted friends to watch one's back against the dangers of the world. Many of my own kind have been claimed by death, even with all these things.

“And yet thou,” she said, curiously tilting her head, “appear to be alone. In a world where all wish for naught but the destruction of those such as thou, thou hast dared to cross these lands alone. I would not wish the deaths of any in this land, especially not one as ador–” She paused, and bit her lip before finally saying, “admirable as thou. Therefore, I offer thee myself as a companion.”

Tristan didn't respond. He couldn't, he was paralyzed from fright and shock. A giantess was talking to him, and so casually, as if she wasn't arguably the most dangerous, terrifying thing Tristan could encounter at this time.

“Oh, art thou wounded, little one?” she was asking now, indicating his arm with a finger that was surely as long as he was tall. Despite the sympathetic tone in her voice, Tristan cringed, praying internally that she would decide he wasn't worth the trouble and that she would leave him alone.

Of course, it wasn't his day for his prayers to be answered. The giantess leaned closer, her hand now about a yard away from his face.

“Do not panic, little traveler,” the giantess said in a soft voice. “I only wish to get a better look....”

Tristan's breath caught in his chest as the giant girl gently brought her hands on either side of him, the warm, fleshy surface of her right palm gently pressing into him and scooping his body into her left hand. He was being lifted, lifted into the air while the giant girl gently nudged him into the middle of her palm. Before he could fully react, he was already at face level with the giantess (although the term mouth level would be more accurate), and could hear his own heartbeat thumping wildly in his ears.

The giant girl stared at him for an unnerving moment, those amber eyes seeming to look right into the depths of his comparatively tiny soul. They were unreadable and terrible, and yet, beautiful. Tristan could see himself reflected in them, and he saw his own face, scared and unsure of what would happen next. And then the boy saw something in the giant's gaze, something he would look back and still marvel at, a thing which hadn't been seen in the eyes of a giantess for a hundred years.

In that moment, Tristan saw kindness.

“Oh, thou art a poor thing,” the giant girl murmured. “Let my hand rest upon thee, and find rest and healing.”

Softly, the giantess lifted her right hand, and placed her middle and index fingers on his torso, covering his chest and left. Tristan squeezed his eyes shut and winced slightly, waiting for the inevitable crushing sensation...

But it never came. Instead, Tristan felt a soft, warm feeling coursing through his whole body, slowing his heart and easing the tension in his weary limbs. He still felt fear, but it seemed muted, somehow, as a sound becomes muffled underneath the water.

He blinked a few times, and realized with a start his arm didn't hurt any more. He tentatively rolled his shoulder, and grinned in spite of himself when he felt no pain nor even soreness.

Tristan knew little of magic, but even he, a farm boy from a run-down little village, could recognize healing magic.

“T-Thank you,” he stammered up at the giant girl. She chuckled softly, and shook her head.

“There is nothing to thank, little traveler. To heal one such as thyself was of no avail. I would be honored if thou wouldst grant me the chance to be of much more use than a mere healing spell.”

Tristan frowned. “S-So..... you want to.... accompany me? For some reason? I thought all the giants hated humanity. What makes you any different? How do I know you're not just biding your time until you grab me and.... and....” He felt sick all of a sudden as he thought of some of the stories he'd heard back home. He decided to change topics.

“I've heard that your people still have cities, armies, lives outside of fighting to survive. Why would you leave all of that to come accompany.... me? A mere human?”

“Thou art no mere human, little traveler,” she said simply. “None of thy kind is meager or lesser in any way. My people have failed to recognize this, and have become too steeped in their hatred towards humanity. The violence my sisters have embraced must be put to an end, and thus I abandoned my people, wandering these lands in search of those who need aid. I will admit, none have accepted my help yet” – a pink tinge came over her face and her steady voice faltered for a moment – “but I believe I will one day encounter one who seeks to heal instead of harm, to understand instead of to hate, and to live instead of merely surviving.” Here the giant girl's eyes shone as she looked down at him. “I believe thee to be the very human I have been seeking. What other human would dare cross the Misted Vales alone, with little more than a sack of provisions and a weapon? Is the quest thou hast embarked upon not one of honor, of valor, of restoration?”

Tristan blinked. The giantess' archaic manner of speech was difficult to understand, but she sounded as though she'd read him quite thoroughly. There was an awkward silence as Tristan tried to figure out what to say next.

Just as he opened his mouth, the giant girl spoke again, a slight pleading edge in her voice.

“I can offer thee wisdom, guidance, protection, whatever you wish. Whatever thee may require, thou need only ask and I shall oblige. I understand that one of my size may appear frightening to one such as thyself, and I can only respond by saying that I shall never leave thy side. No matter what may come between us, I implore thee, little one, let me serve as thy companion, as thy.... as thy maiden.”

Tristan felt the air disappear from his lungs.

Among his people, there was a tradition that no hero should walk alone. Therefore, every knight, upon receiving a quest was assigned a maiden; a woman, usually skilled in magic, who acted as his counterpart, guiding him, protecting him, and comforting him. The role of maiden was an honored role, and the knight was to treat his maiden with respect and honor her for her sacrifice. Maidens were just as venerated as their male counterparts, and many a maiden and knight married after questing together. But the role of maiden was a serious one. It required total devotion on both parts, on pain of death. For a maiden to accept a knight, and vice versa, was a fundamental binding of two souls' fates.

The tradition of knights and maidens had fallen out of practice in recent times, as there simply weren't enough people left to serve such a serious role in this age. That a giantess knew what a maiden was, and that she was offering to serve as his maiden... it was unheard of, to say the least.

“You....” Tristan tried to collect his thoughts. He'd heard the old stories about maidens and knights, and he used to wonder to himself if he'd ever be worthy enough to have a maiden pledge herself to him. He remembered the sadness that had come with realizing that the age of chivalry, of companionship, had ended long before he was even born. It was one of the reasons he'd taken on this quest alone – to try to restore his home, and become someone a maiden would be honored to pledge herself to.

And now here he was, laying in the open palm of a girl like none he'd ever met before, claiming that there would be no greater honor than to serve as his maiden.

“I'm going to the Godbearing Mountain,” he said quietly. “At the edge of the world, to fetch water from the ancient spring and put an end to this blight once and for all. I don't know if it exists, nor if it can even be done. But I figured if you would.... if you would really sacrifice this much, you may as well know what you're getting into.”

The giantess was silent, as though in deep thought. Then she nodded, and asked, “What is thy name, brave little traveler?”

He told her.

She nodded again. “Hold on tight, Tristan.”

Slowly, gently, she lowered him to the ground, and tipped her hand just enough for him to slide off her palm and into the grey-colored grass.

The giantess was still for a second, watching him carefully, then she stood to her full height. Tristan had to crane her neck to even look up at her face, but he could see her amber-colored eyes, looking down at him with such warmth it made him feel strangely giddy.

“I, Lyra,” she said in a clear voice, setting her right hand over her heart, “do pledge myself to aid thee, Tristan, upon thy quest to reach the Godbearing Mountain in the far north, and find a cure to the blight that ravages our lands. I swear to offer guidance, strength, protection, and whatever else thou may require of me, till our quest is done.”

Tristan nodded, and hastily put his right hand over his own heart. “Um.... I, T-Tristan, pledge to complete this quest to the best of my abilities, and to respect and honor my companion, L-Lyra. I swear to act with courage and wisdom, and to persevere and trust in the advice of my companion.... m-my maiden.”

He took an unconscious step back as the giant girl knelt suddenly, then felt ashamed when he realized she was offering him her hand once more.

“Let us seal our bond, little traveler. Take mine hand, as is the custom of your people.”

Tristan forced himself to step forward, slowly raising his hand. He paused as he looked up at the giant girl looming over him. Did he really trust her? A giantess? The supposed enemy of his people, claiming that she wished to join his cause for healing and restoration, and serve as his most loyal companion the whole way?

I implore thee to trust me, she had said, with a look in her eyes that Tristan knew on some deep, instinctive level, meant that he had to do just that. He would do what no other human had dared to do in a hundred years, and learn to trust.

“Let's begin,” he said, placing his hand, so small in comparison, atop her index fingertip. The giant girl smiled, a soft, happy expression, almost cute for one so big. Tristan felt a rush of warmth in his heart, and somehow he understood that history was being made, here and now, at this very moment, between nothing but a farmer boy with foolish dreams and a girl who believed in them.

“May the sun, moon, and stars guide us,” Lyra said softly. “Let us begin.”

ykw, I should be sleeping but instead I'm gonna say that I have SEVERAL g/t themed stories I would like to write and post here but unfortunately I have as much drawing skill as a grain of dust. So I'll just vomit some of my ideas here :) lmk what you think please, ask me whatever questions u want abt it, and if you feel inspired to create something from this, awesome! I like seeing the things I create inspire people

Also I want to add that I am exceedingly lazy, so many of the titles are just the two main characters with a conjunction between them.

Anyway:

1. Lyra and Tristan

A story I've been working on for quite some time, this one takes place in a dark fantasy world loosely inspired by dark souls and the old fairytales of hans christian anderson and the brothers grimm! In it, the world is dying, and giants and humans threaten to wipe each other out in the wake of a massive war. Our main protagonists are a giantess and a human boy who try to overcome their differences and out an end to the violence. There's a lot of fluff and goofy adolescent awkwardness with this one, and some kinky stuff too for the freaks in this community (me. I'm the freak). In this story I want to cover themes of overcoming hatred, the power of love and the importance of foolish hope. Also beeg lady kisses and cuddles are an important theme but anyway

2. Juliette and Willow

In a world where a third of the population was dramatically reduced in size by a mysterious virus, shrunken people are treated as pets and slaves at best and food at worst. This is a world I really want to cover in a lot of different ways, with a lot of darker tropes like vore, slavery, and other stuff, but Juliette and Willow is a sweet story about sweet things! Juliettes a simple office worker with a history she's trying to forget, and Willow's a ragged tiny who's on his last legs when Juliette finds him on the street one fateful day.A lot of mother-son fluff in this one, with some light sprinkling of overcoming trauma and found family.

3. My Little Knight - A Series

A series of blurbs and short stories where the main scenario is different people with tiny knights! I love knights, like a lot, and I love g/t stuff almost as much, so this is more just a chance to throw these two loves together! We've got princesses giggling and fighting over flustered tiny guards, we've got dragons kidnapping new iron-clad pets, and other stuff I'm too sleep deprived to talk about lol. Easily a more comedic series I want to do, more about silly fluff and goofy scenarios and beeg ladies than anything else.

That's just some of the stuff I wanna do for the community on this site. If u like what u read, or if u don't, please let me know! And if u want me to go to sleep so I can get to work on some of this stuff asap, please let me know! Consider this my official entrance into the g/t community. Ish. Maybe later I'll introduce myself or something, idk.

Collection of my Favorite TPC screenshots

“Cyan, with all due respect as your caretaker…what in paradise did you say”

Always my constant reminder that Cube just chooses to be harmless, but WILL throw hands with someone who lays hands on Cyan , or even a molecule

Da Fuq-

HOW THE FUCK DID HE NOT DIE?!

Love how it went from this. To actually cursing k

Don’t know why, but seeing a hexagon lay face flat is priceless

BONUS ✨✨✨✨✨ (I don’t care who comes after me for this, but as a former G/t enthusiast (not one of those weird ones) this gives off astounding amounts of that Giant/Tiny relationship. I WANT TO BE HELD LIKE THIS-)

First creature!

Species name: Pugol

Description: The Pugol is a small creature about the size of a bunny. These creatures are known be aggressive when bothered while sleeping. The have sharp front claws that help them dig holes. The also have small sharp front teeth that help them eat bark, insects, and tough leaves

Care:

I hope that none of you borrowers are actually expecting to have a clean home with a Pugol, it’s best to keep them outside. And hopefully you don’t have a strong nose cause these creatures spray whenever they feel scared or threatened. Also they are very stubborn and they won’t exactly listen to commands first hand. Best thing to do is to use food to move them to different places.

(You may ask questions :D )

So…. I’m a little bored right now so.. I’m making an AU (that I probably won’t be able to draw crap for :D). It’s gonna be called Borrower Animal Trainers.

- basically I’m going to be creating different species that borrowers can encounter and tame, if they wish to do so. I will give tips on how to take care of them and what to do to not have your first experience of death

Messing with your brother is a lot more fun when he’s 33ft tall!

OCs: Stor and Sunday (Siblings)

“Stor” is short for “Kæmpe Stor” which means giant in Danish. Like his name and stature suggests he is a giant. He is about 33 feet in height. He is a high school senior. 

Sunday or ‘Sunny’ is a half-human half-vampire. AKA Dhampir. She is 11 and a half, just starting Middle School. (4′6 if you were wondering)

Stor’s parents call him “Kæmpe,” but when Sunday was brought home, she had trouble saying that, so she called him ‘Ka-pe’ and it just kind of stuck. 

Stor and Sunday were both adopted at a young age. They are being raised by two loving fathers. Their family is kind of messy, but a lot of fun!

These are characters from a comic I am working on called “The Biggest Heart!”

(I will say, I’m still trying to figure out the kinks of The Biggest Heart world, so the laptop he has might not exist in the future. I just wanted to give him something to hold.)

(FUN FACT! The painting that Sunday messes with is an illustration I did for a newspaper I’m part of! I just couldn’t think of anything else to put in the picture lol.)

Dumpling Animatic Ideas:

This is about @diddlesanddoodles story “Dumpling”

I wrote these in November of 2020. They’ve been in my folder untouched for a long time. So I figured I should just post it. If anyone wants to turn these into Animatics, Please do! Just @ me so I can watch!

Feel free to change any people’s lines to better fit their characters. Some I just put in these spots because they needed to be filled. 

Based on Family Guy, How Farris will react to Nenani getting her first suiter: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ODfCVxVLqiE 

Farris: I just wanna talk to him.

Nenani: W-wait why do you have a shotgun?

Farris: I just wanna talk to him.

Nenani: Dad! This is ridiculous!

Farris: I just wanna talk to him.

Nenani: Put that gun away!

Farris: I just wanna talk to him.

Nenani: What are you?- what are you doing?

Farris: I just wanna talk to him.

Nenani: It is not his fault! It was an accident!

Farris: I just wanna shoot him. I just wanna talk to him.

Nenani: YOU CAN’T SHOOT HIM!

[Door opens, Farris aims gun at boy]

Boy: Wait! What are you doing?!

Based on Parks and Rec scene at Leslie’s engagement party. This would be at Nenani and Jae’s engagement party (IF they were to become engages, big IF. She’s 11! And he’s 16.) 

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Ck_cW3XDFEY

Yale: [My romantic life has been a bit of a mixed bag lately. And when that's the case, it's hard not to be cynical about love and relationships, but it's couples like you that give hope to the rest of us.] Nenani, you deserve the best, and you found it. Jae, don't you dare hurt her.

[Laughter]

Jae: I won't.

Kol: Don't laugh. She (he) means it.

Jae: Okay, I-I won't.

Farris: Seriously, son, don't hurt her.

Jae: Okay, I'm not planning on hurting her.

Bart, Gjerk and Herit: You better not be.

Jae - I'm not!

Quin and Saen: Hey, Jae, you best watch yourself.

Jae: Why would any of you think I would hurt Leslie (Nenani)? You're all my friends too.

Avery: (shrugs) Nah.

Based on Parks and Rec “who broke it scene.” This will take place during chapter 12. When Nenani comes into the kitchen (high as a kite) on loopy juice. The ‘broken’ thing they will be referring to is Nenani hopping up and down on the table. 

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=TUTAL9LDHRc

Farris: So. Who broke it? I’m not mad. I just wanna know.

Yale: I did. I broke it.

Farris: No. No, you didn’t. Avery?

Avery: Don’t look at me. Look at Kol!

Kol: What?! I didn’t break it.

Avery: Huh. That’s weird. How'd you even know it was broken?

Kol: Because it’s sitting right in front of us and it’s broken!

Avery: Suspicious.

Kol: No, it’s not!

Saen: If it matters, probably not… Quinn was the last one to use it.

Quinn: Liar! I don’t even drink that crap!

Saen: Oh really? Then what were you doing by the coffee cart (Nenani) earlier?

Quinn: I use the wooden stirrers to push back my cuticles! Everyone knows that, Saen!

Yale: All right, let’s not fight. I broke it, let me pay for it, Farris.

Farris: No. Who broke it?

Avery: Farris, (Bart’s/ Gjerk and Herit) been awfully quiet…

______: Really?! Oh my god!

Avery: Yeah, really!

[Incoherent Arguing and fighting ensue] - [terrified in the walls] Jae: I broke it.

OCs: Mizu and Stor

Mizu is on the left, she has blue skin and hair because she is a water nymph. Her name means water in Japanese. 

Stor is on the right. “Stor” is short for “Kæmpe Stor” which means giant in Danish. Like his name and stature suggests he is a giant. He is about 33 feet in height.  

They are characters from a comic I am working on called “The Biggest Heart”

This is just an image of these two idiots flirting. They are so bad at it. 

I’m finally posting this drawing because I’m hoping it will motivate me to work harder and faster on my comic... And get the nerves to eventually publish it...

Here’s some Fan Art of @pacthesis​’s Webtoon “Violet Goes to the Beach!”

I love it so Much! It’s so good and well thought out! 

This is episode 20 in a nut shell. 

Thank you and I hope you enjoy! 

Here is my contribution to the Gt community!

These are some of my OC’s from a story I’m working on. 

Title: “Their Conviction”

Characters:

Mathew Mayfield “May-May” (purple hair)

K. Saxet (Blonde)

Elocin (Black hair) (She’s so cute 😭)

Got any questions? Ask!

saturday

Eeeyyy! Guess who wants more Phantasmo x reader? Me! :D (btw, I am the "chubby reader" anon if you haven't noticed!)

Could you write some Phantasmo x tiny/borrower reader? (And a reader more taller than Phantasmo? Or even a GIANT reader???)

🤨

Why do i feel something… odd about this ask…?

Well, i’ll hand you some headcanons…

(Also i hope Fluff don’t jump at my throat on this one)

☆~Phantasmo with a borrower darling~☆:

You two have met when you were spotted by him and lifted by his ghost tail, him bringing you very closely to his face, his cold breath on your tiny face and his piercing malicious eyes on you… you desperately tried to plead for your life… and him still deciding what to do with you… until he spoke:

Phantasmo: how long have you been here?

Y/n: . . .I… i…

Phantasmo: a n s w e r M E.

Y/n: eeepp! 6 months s-sir…!

Phantasmo: 6 months… hmm…

Phantasmo then squeezed you with his ghost tail a little tighter and gave you a really creepy grin.

Phantasmo: say~ how about this: i spare your pathetic little life and in exchange… you’ll be my little stress toy~

Y/n: s-stress t-t-toy…? What do you-!

Before you could ask any further, he tossed you on his palm and started squeezing the hell out of you, his hand would tremble lightly from excitement of bringing you pain and with the amount of pressure he was applying to your tiny body… until he stopped and examined you to see if you were still alive, and, to his surprise, you were. Maybe with a few broken ribs, but you were still alive!

Phantasmo: Hmm~ good, good~ perhaps you’ll be of entertainment for me~

He then would lock you up in a… rather spacious cage…? And place a big cookie in front of you… at first you were suspicious and scared it would be a trap: that he was only toying with you and at any moment would kill you, maybe the cookie was made with poison? Or worse: he would place a big snake inside the cage! Weirdly enough, it even looked like he was reading your mind and tried to… “reassure” you:

Phantasmo: no, there isn’t any tricks to this, i can be nice sometimes… see?

Phantasmo would then pat your head with his pointer finger gently.

Phantasmo: now~ try to get some rest and… don’t dream of a snake eating you alive or you eating a poisonous cookie! Hahahaha!

Yeah… talk about reassurance… you two may not had the best start but, eventually, he would grow more fondly of you! :D

He would still call you his “little pet” or his “mouse” just to fluster you~

Basically your routine would be: be squeezed by him whenever he’s angry, stressed or bored; eat; clean yourself; sometimes go on a “walk” with him (he would put you in his pocket of his lab coat) IF he’s feeling nice; sleep and repeat.

When you two grow more fond of the other, he would… get more bolder with his shenanigans: he would “threaten” you to put you into his mouth and bite off your limbs… or swallow you whole… (of course, you don’t like that one bit and burst out crying. He immediately apologizes and swears he will be more gentle with his “threats”, which is actually him fooling around with you, but since he almost never interacts with people, he has terrible social interaction and say shit like this)

Of course he loves you, he just sucks at showing it, lol

But… sometimes, SOMETIMES, he might feel a little tempted to… have a taste of you. Now, now: i know Fluff has confirmed that Phantasmo can’t eat or drink… but she never said he can’t place something or someone (don’t you get any funny ideas) on his mouth ☝️

Eventually he… does places you on his mouth, but, but, but: he asks for your consent first… you were… still with a back foot on this but… you kind have been… also a little curious to know what it is like being inside a mouth… you nod and he claps his hands together happily: he brings you towards his lips and opens his mouth, he waits a few seconds for you to climb in. You do and… god, oh god his mouth was much more scarier up close! You immediately tap his tongue and he (a little sadly because he really liked your taste) let you out.

He would then always start asking you if he could place you on his mouth, which you would agree but under the condition of him always letting you out whenever you felt uncomfortable or scared.

Sometimes he would playfully and lightly chew on you, you know, like a chewing toy. He would also press you against the inside of his cheeks just to tease you.

He really loves your taste: you taste bitter to him, but, since he loves coffee and can’t drink it, you are the perfect substitute for that! :D

Oh oh oh! Also one more thing: he would definitely sew you a couple of little clothes, just for you. 🥹

☆~Phantasmo with a tall (and a giant) person~☆:

Honestly Phantasmo wouldn’t be intimidated by your size if you were a couple of inches taller than him, there’s even a old drawing of Fluff where Phantasmo is interrogating a (presumably) tall guy:

(Image above was drawn by Fluffpillow)

Okay, the (presumably) guy isn’t THAT tall compared to Phantasmo, but my point still stands: he isn’t easily intimidated by size, at least usually…

But a GIANT? Ohohoho boy, he would be both: amazed because imagine all the experiments and bodies he can create with yours?! And absolute panic because, well, HOLY HEAVENS it’s a MOTHER FUCKING GIANT!

Okay, i know i said i would do both but… what if i… *proceeds to cheat by making the tall person have shape-shifting ability*

Like imagine the scenario: you saw Phantasmo haunting someone and you decided to scare him and teach him a lesson. At first, obviously, he isn’t afraid of you, i mean, why he would be? Especially with someone like yo-! And then, poof! You grew 10 times more bigger than him!

He immediately tries to disappear out of your way but you manage to grab him and bring him closer to your face while smirking triumphantly at him:

Y/n: not so tough now, eh little guy?

Phantasmo: y-you d-d-don’t scare me…!

Y/n: oh really~? Then what if i…

You teasingly opened your mouth, of course: you wouldn’t actually eat him, but~ he didn’t have to know~ he desperately begs you to release him:

Phantasmo: P-please…! Wh-what do you even want fro-from m-me?!

Y/n: i want you to apologize to that child over there you were scaring.

Phantasmo: Hmpf! And what if i-! OKAY, OKAY YOU WIN, YOU WIN! GOD!

It definitely took you two to get through each other’s hearts a little longer because of Phantasmo’s ego and because he was still butt-hurt from your first encounter: he hardly is out best by someone… and he ABSOLUTELY HATES being out best.

But eventually you two start dating! :D

He’s absolutely amazed by your shape-shifting ability and asks you if you could also shrink, you answer him a no.

Every time you want to kiss him, you grow into your giant form and kiss his entire face hfgfggfg

Of course, he doesn’t blush or anything (kidding, he totally blushes when you do that hfghgfgfhfhgf)

When you are not in your gargantuan size, he likes to float higher to look like he’s taller than you (have patience with him, he doesn’t like to feel short 😔🤚)

You also love poking him when you’re in your giant form gfhgfhfgfhhffh (and he annoyingly pushes your finger away from him hgfhhfgffhfh)

You basically managed to make him quit villainy: not because he WANTED TO but more like because he was PRESSURED TO by you:

Phantasmo: ooohhhh! Come on! Let at least do some evil things!

Y/n: N O.

Phantasmo: what if i only steal banks? Or, or: kidnap some ladies or-!

Y/n: do that and i’m gonna eat you.

Phantasmo: Oh! Oh okay! Are you seriously playing the “I’m GoInG tO EaT yOu” card right now?!

Y/n: yes. That or i’ll break up with you: your choice, choose your life of crime or me.

Phantasmo: Ooouhhh! You WOULDN’T dare!

Y/n: yes, yes i would.

Phantasmo: . . .i really can’t have both. . .?

Y/n: no.

Phantasmo: *sighs* F I N E… i’ll choose you…