(if you're here and don't know what that is, it just means content of giant or tiny characters, like in the secret world of arrietty, or fairies and the like)
💘 my main blog: @whumpsday (whump blog, warning for fictional violence and such) and tiny whump tag if you want some g/t horror
📝 my g/t writing | all my writing
🎨 g/t art of my ocs (not by me)
this blog is sfw, but you're free to interact even if yours isn't
“Treasures of unimaginable value have passed through the mouth of my den, but I had never been so lucky as to find a living, breathing human to add to my collection.”
“I’ve been having the same nightmare where a giant hand grabs me out of my bed for weeks now. I thought it was just stress, but I’ve started waking up with bruises.”
This fic by @neonthewrite is really good…. I like them a lot :3
fun fact about me: I grew up reading the littles- so when I first saw the borrowers movie, I was disappointed when they didn’t have tails. So yeah I had to draw a lil Grace with a lil tail <3
Incredible. I saw the notification and was already like god, spoiled with more Twiggy art??? And then I saw it and my brain just short circuited lmao. Cackling. Rocky needs the flexible panel just to catch him from shenanigans like this.
Thistle always made sure she was included in the activities, but the activities were for people ten times smaller than her and she couldn't fully participate every time. She couldn't be in the shed without opening the door and disrupting everyone, and she couldn't be in the tunnel between the shed and the house at all. She couldn't do more than watch when Thistle visited someone in one of the tiny houses that made up the tiny village in the living room. She could listen and talk to them, but it never felt like she was actually there participating.
What was happening to her? She didn't have any friends over a foot tall, besides Teddy and Colin.
She was starting to wish she was small, too.
But that was ridiculous. Who would work the oven to help Thistle fire his clay projects?
…Was that really the only reason she could think of to not be small? Had she really gotten that pathetic since getting kicked out of grad school?
…No! She also brought in Thistle's packages.
Groaning and sighing, Marcy lay down on the couch as Thistle helped Jack spread her tiny, impossible-for-a-human-to-read books out, chattering excitedly.
Thistle, being the observant and in-tune creature that he was, of course noticed. “What's wrong, Marcy?”
“It's nothing.”
Thistle walked over and kept up onto the couch. He wasn't wearing his prosthetic wing, so he grabbed Marcy's hair and used it like a rope to climb up.
He nestled in her hair. “That's obviously not true.”
“Well…. Nothing important.”
“Your feelings are important.”
“Well…”
Thistle's ears twitched. “Oh! Someone is knocking on the door. Sorry, Marce, let's talk about it later, okay? I got word that someone new is coming, so that must be them.”
“Okay. Sure thing.”
Marcy started to get up, but Thistle stopped her. “Let me do it, okay? I wouldn't want to scare them.”
Disheartened, Marcy sat back down.
Thistle climbed back down and started hoofing it to the front door. Moon joined up with him. “And who are our new guests?”
“The dryads described them as like…angels?”
“Ah! They must be cherubs. I have some familiarity. If it's a male, I expect he'll be accompanied by at least two females. They form and travel in harems, you see.”
“...how does that work? What happens to the other half of the males if they pair up two to one?”
“Well the sexes in your species are lopsided, aren't they? …I'm not sure if that's the same thing, but use your imagination.”
Thistle jumped up and wiggled through the mail slot.
On the porch were four humanoid figures, five inches tall and hovering with hummingbird-like wings. There was indeed, one male and three appeared to be female. They were dressed in soft white robes.
Moon rappelled down the door by hooking his cane on the mail slot. “Welcome to our little slice of paradise!”
The four cherubs zoomed in together as though magnetized together, whispering rapidly to each other. Moon’s face darkened. “Wait a minute. I know you.”
“Yes, as we you!” said the male.
The three females fluttered, giggled, and waved coyly to Moon. Moon smirked in a smarmy way and waved back.
“Don't wave to them!” the male snapped. “You absolute dog!”
“Moon?” Thistle promoted.
Moon grimaced and turned. “…some familiarity indeed.”
“If by familiarity,” the male said, “you mean that you posed as a female cherub, infiltrated my harem, and had your way with all of my wives. Then yes. We are familiar.”
The female cherubs all giggled again, whispering behind the male’s back and shooting Moon looks with their big doe eyes.
“Dare I say it looks like your wives wouldn't object if it were to happen again,” Moon said.
The cherub turned and glared at them. They flitted away, scattering with peals of heavenly laughter.
Moon looked mischievous. “And you know, I don't recall you objecting when you had your way with me in turn.”
The cherub blushed fiercely. “Ahem.” He looked much less impressive without his three women behind him. “I was going to say that the four of us came because we wanted to put on a concert for a crowd, but-”
“Please!” Thistle exploded, immediately forgetting whatever drama was happening. “That sounds awesome! Please do it!”
“Well, I don't know. Who are you again?”
“My name's Thistle!”
“I'm Jacob. And this is Rebecca, Sarah, and Hannah.”
“Very nice to meet you! Please please put on a concert!”
“Only if this one apologizes.” This with a thumb jerked at Moon.
“All right,” Moon said. “I apologize.”
Jacob seethed. “Like you mean it!”
“You can't force me to mean it.”
“You're a good actor! At least pretend!”
Moon rifled in his pocket and drew out a box, which he opened to reveal a mix of very small furniture. He took one out and drew his hands out to magically expand it. A red fainting couch clattered onto the ground.
Moon threw himself on it, sobbing. “Oh the remorse! The pain! How can anyone ever forgive me? How can I forgive myself?”
Jacob crossed his arms and landed on the porch railing, flapping his rainbow-colored wings. “All right, all right. You scoundrel.”
“So you'll do it?” Thistle said. “You'll have the concert?”
Jacob's face was hard. Rebecca, Sarah, and Hannah fluttered over and tugged on him from all directions.
“Please, Jacob, please?”
“We haven't given a concert in so long!”
“I want to sing!”
“Please please!”
“All right, fine! We'll do it!”
***
Marcy was still sitting on the couch twiddling her thumbs when Thistle came back in, followed by four little cherubs clambering through the mail slot after him.
Jacob immediately sang a few notes, which the women behind him harmonized with. The chorus sounded immaculate.
“Ugh, the acoustics in here are terrible,” he complained. “We’ll have to find somewhere else to do it.”
He looked at Marcy with a wrinkled nose. “So it’s true you’re openly around humans here? I thought the dryads were surely exaggerating about that.”
“Yes!” Thistle said. “This is Marcy!”
“Humans,” Jacob said. “Ugh.”
“Finally something we can agree on.” Moon fluttered up and landed on Marcy’s shoulder, patting her on the side of the head. “This one has her charms, though, I can assure you. You needn’t disparage her.”
“Whatever. Like I’d take your word for it.”
The cherubs flew off to explore the house. Thistle noticed Marcy looking particularly put-off by the comments and hiked over, puffing from all the walking. “Marcy, we can talk about what’s bothering you now.”
“Oh.” Marcy had honestly expected Thistle to get caught up in the excitement and forget. “I guess I’ve just been feeling a little… left out. It’s silly, but sometimes I wish I was small now, too. Your little tiny…topia here has become sort of my whole life.”
Thistle’s face snapped into a smile, and he turned to Moon. “Moon! You know how to shrink things. Why don’t you-”
“That will kill her, dear boy,” Moon interrupted. “I assure you that spell only works on inanimate objects.” He shivered. “I’ve… tried it on an animal before. It wasn’t pretty.”
Thistle turned to Marcy, doe-eyed. “Sorry.”
“You’re not missing much,” Moon sneered. “You wouldn’t want to go through all the effort just to socialize with Jacob.”
“You guys have history, huh?” Marcy asked.
“Yeah,” Thistle said. “Moon, did you really do all that with his wives?”
“I did,” Moon said wickedly. “He’s angry about it because cherub harems pool their magic for mainly the male to use, so essentially I stole from him and left his wives more or less the same.”
Ah. That would explain the dichotomy in attitudes. “Do his wives even like him, then?” Thistle couldn’t imagine a relationship where someone did something to anger his friend, let alone his husband, and he didn’t take their side.
Moon waved dismissively. “They have different kinds of relationships, my dear, don’t worry too much about it. They get their magic through singing for others, so it’s not like they had to work very hard to replace it. It’s not hard for them to find an audience, I promise. Their voices are, well… angelic.”
“The concert is going to be great then! Marcy, I bet the concert will be a great opportunity for you to connect with us!”
A few minutes later, the cherubs surveyed the shed. “This is perfect!” Jacob declared. “We'll have multiple levels for a sound bath!”
“Er…” Thistle shuffled his feet. “But Marcy can't come in unless we open the door, which messes everything up.” The spidertaurs had built part of their webs on the door, and Jack and Nissica were nesting up against it as well. Not to mention it would unseat some of the shelves Colin had put in it. No, opening the shed was for emergencies only.
“Who cares whether some human can come to the concert,” Jacob dismissed. “Oh, one thing, though. We have a gift for your friend, Moon.”
Jacob handed him a smelly wooden orb. “Oh. Um. Thanks.” Thistle took it, wrinkling his nose.
He trudged back with the strange bauble in his arms. Moon met him partway in the tunnel, just past the latest paintings decorating the place.
He seemed to smell the orb even more strongly than Thistle. He put a hand over his mouth. “What is that?”
“Jacob said it's a gift for you.”
“That is a mothball.” He punted it out of Thistle's hands, and it rolled down the corridor. “That scoundrel.”
“Should we even let them have the concert?” Thistle said. “I don't like their attitude.”
Moon sighed. “Let them. They're just being catty. If they want to stay here long term, they'll get over it eventually. Or I should say, Jacob will. The women are perfectly agreeable.”
Thistle wiped his hands on his shirt to try and dissipate the smell.
“Though I'll say, Jacob can be catty to me all he likes; I know how to take it. It's Marcy who doesn't deserve to be mistreated by that self-righteous cockerel."
“What! Moon are you…”
Moon groaned. “Defending a human, yes, I know. But it's Marcy.” He crossed his arms and grumbled. “What he's reduced me too.”
“Well….we can do something else nice for Marcy.”
***
Thistle really, really wanted to go to the concert, but he also didn't want to leave Marcy alone and excluded.
It was perhaps one of the greatest dilemmas he'd ever faced. He agonized over what to do much longer than he had over deciding he would die rather than return to the hive.
“You should go,” Marcy pushed. “I don't want you to miss out.”
“Of course she'd say that,” Moon commented on it later. “It's the only polite thing to do.”
Marcy tended to say what was on her mind, though. Maybe he could strike a compromise. Go but leave early and come find Marcy. Maybe the concert wouldn't even be that good. Maybe the literal angels would turn out to be bad singers. Sure.
The night the concert was scheduled for, Moon offered to stay and keep Marcy company in his place. “I've already heard them sing.”
“Maybe…” Privately, Thistle thought that Moon wasn't a good enough friend to Marcy for his presence to be enough to lift her spirits in his place. “But I'll leave halfway through and come check on you guys, okay?”
So that was how Moon ended up sitting on the couch next to Marcy. Just the two of them. The other humans were asleep, Mochi wasn't around, and everyone else was at the concert.
It was rare for Moon to feel awkward, but this did it. He cleared his throat. “So.”
“Wanna watch TV?”
Humans and TV. “I guess.”
Marcy put on some mindless drivel. After a few minutes of enduring it, Moon said, “I'm sorry they treated you that way.”
“It's okay.”
“No it's not.”
“Well…I guess it's not.”
“You're allowed to be unhappy about it.”
“I don't want to feel entitled to anyone's space, you know? Especially with… well, you.”
“...Thank you. I appreciate that more than you realize.” He twiddled his thumbs. “But still. You're allowed to be sad that they're choosing to exclude you.”
“Thank you for saying that.” Oh no, Marcy was starting to tear up. “It's just that….after getting kicked out of grad school, and losing, like, everything, it just feels like this is my whole world now and I can't even be part of it…. And I know it's my own fault, because it's my fault Thistle is here so I have to do what's best for him, I just- just, I don't know. It sucks.”
Moon patted her leg. “There, there.”
Marcy let out a cry-laugh. “You can do better than that.”
Moon laughed. “I suppose I can. …I don't know why they don't like you. But I didn't like you at first, but you won me over. You'll win them over soon enough. Don't take their comments personally. You're wonderful.” He immediately cringed like he'd said something bad.
Marcy flushed. “Th-thanks.”
They sat in unbearable silence for a little while longer.
“I should go check on Thistle,” Moon said. Anything for an out. “He said he would come over. I would've expected him by now.”
Moon jumped up and fluttered over to the tunnel, dipping down into it. The dirt crunched under his fine shoes. He could hear the thrumming music and muffled voices as he drew near.
The voices snapped into crisp clarity as he stuck his head out of the tunnel and into the sound. The four cherubs hovered in the air in the center for a complete 360 degree show, rotating as they sang. One of them flitted about doing magic to produce colored lights, which burst into the darkened shed and rained down. The crowd cheered and swayed and danced and–
And Moon knew what was going on the second he felt it. Tendrils pulling at him. Greedily sucking from him.
He knew it because it was exactly what he'd always done when he seduced someone.
These weren't angels. They were sirens.
He spotted Thistle on a shelf partway up, dancing with a rapturous look on his face, a look mirrored by everyone there.
Moon turned around and marched stiffly out, back through the tunnel, and right to the couch.
“Marcy. We have a problem.”
***
They hadn't liked Marcy because she had no magic to steal. Either that, or having no magic to steal, she would be completely immune to their singing.
Moon was only able to resist because he knew exactly what was going on. How he hadn't known their true nature when he had history with them, he wasn't sure. He'd thought they generated magic through singing, but they stole it.
Well, no matter. Marcy was here now.
The concert was interrupted as the door, the fourth wall, abruptly pulled away and flooded the shed with light. Just as predicted, it destroyed the web in the corner and ripped the curtain off Jack's little nest. A shelf also came down–luckily there was no one standing on it, and Marcy caught it.
All the tiny folks gathered turned, booing and shouting in disappointment.
“Sorry, guys. Show's over.” She glared at Jacob and his wives. “Our newest guests were just leaving.”
Basically a summary of Kaleb and Brooke’s relationship (as one-sided as it is ^^’) When posing as a human Kaleb acts fairly normal but his borrower nature comes out full force at his natural size. Brooke’s always catching him stealing crumbs, scaling furniture without regard for the height, and sneaking around her bedroom whenever he gets the chance.
