PROMPTOBER BABYYY (This had been in the works since G/t July, but it FITS)
FINALLY ABLE TO INTRODUCE ROSE'S DESIGN !!
Ughhh I love these two so much -- I can't wait to post more of these two. I'm still swamped but things are getting better!! Hopefully will be back to regular posting soon ❤
Another Hand Practice Session in- And better yet, my first official art of Tamius (Finding Strength)
Despite Finding strength being the shortest of my ongoing works the plot is actually heavily preplanned and hopefully will have a few more Chapters popping up in the new year
Guys- I've been rawdogging these hands like nobody's business.
Still struggling to get the hang of how I like to color/do lighting but it's coming along slowly. I might try to focus on much more simple coloring/shading until I get a little better at understanding how light works.
Anyways- here's Tamius having a not so great time.
Nearly A WHOLE YEAR after the first chapter WE ARE BACK !!
Meet Rose, a varsity athlete who should needs to pay more attention to the concussion safety protocols. Also Grayson (you'll see a lot more of him eventually)
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Next Chapter: Chapter 3
Word count: 2160
CW: Adult language
Rose smiles. She smiles as the sweat beads that slick her brow drip into her eyes. She smiles as her limbs grow heavy, arms burning and near useless. She even, to the displeasure of her teammate, smiles as she drills. Her grin an ever present, and rather unnerving, fixture on her face as the duo works their way through their umpteenth repetition of speed drills.
Through gritted teeth Grayson Wilder manages to hiss out a quick knock-it-off before being met her forehead ramming square into his gut as she shoots yet another blast double. As her she makes contact, Grayson is swiftly reminded why pre practice Mcdonalds was a terrible idea.
Who even drills blast doubles during speed drills anyways?
As Rose plows through the take down, Grayson uses the brunt of his mental fortitude to curse their coach for having dared to suggest that doing some extra drilling with Rose would be light go’s for him- that, and to keep his meal firmly where it belonged.
Grayson lands with a grunt, and Rose takes the time to give him a sympathetic look before the two hustle back to standing, only to repeat the whole process again.
And again.
And again.
And-
The sound of the score clock's buzzer could have been a choir of angels to either athlete at this point. Sweaty, drained and sore, Rose sighs- not from fatigue, but instead satisfaction. There was a buzzing in her arms, shaky and electric with that telltale combination of adrenaline and exertion. Speed drills objectively sucked. Getting stuck with one of the 90 kilo men for a partner sucked even more. But losing her shot to go to Nationals last season has sucked the most. This season would be great- even if that meant she would have to favor the monotony of drilling rather than the excitement of scrimmage.
Think big. Rose grins, testing the sound of her new little mantra in her head. First early birds, then provincials then-
“Rose!”
Her thoughts are abruptly interrupted by a shout from her coach. Hank Miller beckons her over, a cheeky smile on his face as she jogs towards him.
“Another double and Grayson looked about ready to turn Green… son.”
Rose wishes she has the self control to groan, but instead, she laughs.
“Think he’s McLovin it?”
“He’ll be McLoving his sauna suit, that's for sure.” Hank shakes his head. With sigh he hands her a packet. Though as Rose grabs it, Hank doesn't let go. Eyebrows raised expectantly, his smile is replaced by a more stern expression.
“Filled out by Monday, got it?”
Rose rolls her eyes, but Hank’s grip remains firm.
“Don't lose it.”
In a feat of self control that could rival that of monks, Rose resists the urge to inform Hank that it's not impossible to print another copy. Though in fairness, with his downright cretaceous tech literacy, there were good odds that for him, it may in fact be impossible.
“Yes, Mom.” Finally, he relinquishes the thick stack of redundancy forms. With the packet in tow, Rose makes a B-line for her water bottle. Quick drink, stretches… maybe some footspeed drills? The thought of managing to get her legs to move with the growing weight of fatigue and lactic acid setting in was far from appealing, and there was also the weight of impending assignment deadlines to consider…
It should be a felony to have assignments due the first week of the school year...
With a groan, Rose downs her water as she meanders back on the mat to start her stretches, the cool water an oasis in the mugginess of the wrestling room. Though, the coolness of the water does nothing to hide the red hot glare she can feel burning a hole into the back of her head. A quick glance behind her reveals Hank, with a frustratingly smug pair of raised eyebrows as he casts a nod toward her packet; left abandoned on the sidelines.
With all the subtlety of an air horn at a funeral, Rose makes a show of bringing the oh-so-precious forms to her bag, grin smeared across her face as she plays up her exasperation. She can hear Hank laughing behind her, along with another “Monday” for good measure.
Looking over her shoulder Rose makes sure to shoot him a glare of her own as she shoves the papers into the front pocket of her-
A scream.
Head on a swivel, Rose's eyes immediately lock onto the source- a strained yelp escaping her as the sight sends her sprawling back. Her mind races, fumbling as it strains to make sense of what she was almost certain could not have been in her bag.
“...You good?” Hank’s voice feels like a lifeline back to reality, reeling Rose in from her shock.
“Uhh y-yeah, no. I'm good.” She lies, “Just, uh, papercut.”
Rose didn’t move. Hell, she wasn’t even sure if she had been breathing. She was frozen- feeling as if even a blink would dispel the almost certainly not real reality that stared back at her.
There's…. There's a man- A very small man- in my bag.
Rose swallows nervously. Had she hit her head and not realized? Grayson had made her eat mat on at least one failed attempt at a leg shot… Could concussions cause hallucinations?
There's a tiny man in my bag.
They definitely could, right? Rose couldn’t help but notice the irony that she couldn’t remember the stupid Safe Sport Concussion Awareness presentation. What was more concerning? Hallucinations from a grade 2 concussion, or finding a tiny man in her bag?
Rose blinked.
There's still a tiny man in my bag.
In a far away reality, she hears the muffled voice of Hank asking if she's sure she's alright.
Rose hurriedly gathers up her bag at his approach.
“I’m good. Totally good. I… I uh… gotta go.”
_ _ _
Those few stuttered words were all the warning Tamius had before he was flung backwards as the bag was torn from the ground.
A plan- he needed a plan. Anything-
Instead, Tamius was met by sheer chaos. His word topples over itself, rising and falling and sending him careening into the wall of fabric. A horrible realization dawns on him.
She’s running.
Dread seemed to be the only thing anchoring him to reality as Tamius remained a victim to gravity’s indecisiveness.
He’d been caught.
That behemoth idiot had fucking caught him- Tamius grit his teeth.
No. Not yet.
White knuckled, Tamuis clung to the fabric of the bag. His eyes desperately scanning in the low light for the hole he’d cut. If he could make it back into the larger compartment he could buy himself some time taking cover in her clothes- there’d be an opportunity for escape. He was sure there would be. He’d make one.
In a mix of determination and desperation, Tamius fights against the rhythmic lurching, an awful feeling of vertigo boring down on him as his hands scramble for new grips, something- anything- to pull him closer to that fucking hole.
A lock clicked.
The sound slicing through him- an executioner's bell condemning him to his fate.
No, no, no- not yet!
The stillness that followed was truly terrifying, a contagious beast freezing him, and time itself, in place. Reality itself seemed to hold a change, like the feeling before a storm- his muscles tense, and hair standing on its end, as if current was running through him. It was an electric sort of dread- a missed step, an object about to fall, the moment before impact-
No.
The impact came in the form of five grotesquely large fingers diving into the pocket, looking far more like a Hellish mass of writhing limbs than the hands he was familiar with.
Every ounce of his being screamed- all thoughts coalescing to one;
Get to the rip.
In that moment, Tamius was not a man. He was not a being of higher intelligence. In that moment he felt no soul, no empathy, no love. He was a desperate animal scrambling towards a corner. There was no safety waiting for him just beyond the rip. All that waited behind the fabric were a few extra tortured seconds of delusion. A few painful moments where he could pretend he could reason his way out of this and avoid the reality barreling down on him in the form of five gruesome fingers.
Though reality, it seemed, had other plans.
That gargantuan fucking idiot.
The fingers coiled around him, engulfing Tamius in their impossible mass. His heart pounded wildly in his chest, echoed by that of the flesh pulsing around him- the feeling so deeply sickening he could taste bile on his tongue. Tamuis’ stomach lurches as he’s dragged out, hands grasping pointlessly for anything as he's brought forth in front of a sickeningly familiar face.
He wanted to scream. He wanted to fight back. He wanted to kick, and bite and scratch until she had to let him go. He wanted so desperately to be the cause of even the smallest amount of pain. Anything to wipe that ridiculous awestruck stare off of her stupid face. Anything to pretend like there was something he could do to change the outcome.
But Tamius The Bestoyed, was a man far too smart for his own good. Cursed with reason, he was granted no security in ignorance. Pride was reserved for those who could delude themselves into believing they were in control. Much to his horror, Tamius knew better.
He’d been caught.
Trapped in the fist of a colossus, Tamius swallowed his pride. Tamius was a man of intellect and reason. So he did what any man with intellect and reason would do.
He begged.
“Please.” His voice shook, thick with fear and desperation as garbled pleas spilled forth like a river in spring. The knowledge he so prided himself with failed him, his words a stunted mess of gasping pleases and begging to be let go.
Her brow furrows.
“Pl-please.” Despite himself, Tamius uselessly strained against her fingers, wracking his brain anything he could say. Her eyes, wide and gray, were locked onto him.
Gray.
Gray like foreboding skies. Gray like-
She sucks in a breath, her eyes widening as some sort of thought passes through the near impenetrable density of her gargantuanly thick skull. For a moment, her mouth hangs agape- a look of confusion crossing her face as she takes her time forming a thought.
“... Why are you crying?”
Of all the things she could have said, Tamius had not been anticipating this.
What?
As if experiencing sympathy stupidity, his own mind goes blank, struggling to keep pace with her words. Was he? His face felt wet.
Wait- what did she mean why? How stupid could she be- As if she wasn’t obviously the reason!
Tamius wants to say something, but calling out her oblivious stupidity was out of the question. Before he’s able to gather his words, her hand opens up. No longer restrained in her grip, Tamius, completely and totally dumbstruck, finds himself sitting splayed out in her much too warm cupped hand.
He’s hit with an onslaught of thoughts, as he rapidly begins reformulating any semblance of a plan.
Could he jump? Run? Where was he? Could he fit under the door? How would he get home-
“Did I …” His thoughts are immediately silenced as she addresses him again, “... hurt you?”
Her words catch him off guard, but not nearly as much as her expression. Concern. Embarrassment? She seemed horrified at the thought, her grey eyes scrutinizing him for any sign of injury in a way that bordered on violating.
Too close- too much.
Unable to find his voice, Tamius shakes his head, scrambling back as much as the limited surface of her hands would allow. The massive, and now that he had the chance to get a good look at her, very sweaty woman eyed him curiously. She thinks for a moment, brow furrowed as the act of thinking clearly was not something in which she was well practiced.
“How did you get so small?”
What? Get?
His own expression mirrors hers, brow furrowing as realization dawns on him.
This idiot Gargo thinks I’ve shrunk…
If he wasn’t so terrified he would have scoffed. It would be his luck that he managed to have encountered the most gullible specimen of humanity imaginable. As if people just go around shrinking- wait.
People.
She thinks I’m human.
His hands rush to his ears, relief washing over him as he feels his hair, mussed just enough from this whole ordeal to have covered their not quite human shape. This… this could work. Despite the way his hands shook, despite the way his heart pounded in his chest, despite the way this was far beyond the bounds of a worst case scenario, a wry smile tugged at the corners of his lips.
Finally finished a G/t July Prompt; Impulsive! I’ve been planning this story for a little while based off of this post, and I’m so happy for an excuse to start posting it!
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Next Chapter: Chapter 2
Word count: 2715
CW: Adult language
Life was good, thought Tamius, and he needed it to stay that way. The tiny man slipped out from the small hole he’d made behind the fridge, with more than just a little skip to his step. He found himself dancing as he trotted out from beneath the appliance, some peculiar human song stuck in his head as he strutted out in the open. Like clockwork, at 4:01 pm he had heard the human clamor down the stairs, apparently giving up the hunt for some misplaced bottle of perfume, followed by the thud of the door as she darted out of the house. A near identical scene would play out almost every other day; Always in a rush.
This human's apparent lack of time management leading up to whatever it was humans did when they left their homes was the greatest blessing he could ask for. That titanic fool would pick up her phone, notice the time and barrel out of the house, hastily leaving whatever it was she had been doing unattended. Most days this was usually in the form of food left on the table, alongside whatever they had been doing on their laptop.
He quickened his pace to a jog, the air around him filled with the scent of something absolutely divine awaiting him on the kitchen table. His parents had been so worried about him going out to find a place of his own- but man, they were worried for absolutely nothing. All that fretting and bothersome nagging about safety protocols and potential dangers had nearly had him question if he was ready to go out on his own- but this was so easy! He’d somehow managed to stumble across the easiest human imaginable; The epitome of obliviousness. This colossal oaf a woman was scattered, unorganized, and inattentive; the perfect combination in his mind. Scavenging was always plentiful, and even better yet, she never noticed a single thing he took.
A total ditz, he thought.
His luck hadn’t stopped there either. Even with her chaotic nature, this perfect mess of a human was somehow still wonderfully predictable; Out of the house by 4:00pm nearly everyday, back by 7:00pm, in bed by 10:00pm.
But the best part? That enormous twit was the least intimidating human he’d ever seen. He had watched them countless times, almost pitying them as they struggled with each step up the stairs. Their movements were perpetually stiff and sluggish, as if they were perpetually exhausted… The only time he’d seen any sort of energy from them was when they’d dart out of the house.
He tossed his hook upwards, a smirk playing across his face as it caught the edge of the table on the first try. Oh yeah, this borrowing stuff is a cakewalk. Hand over hand, he scaled the length of kitchen twine he’d swiped a few weeks back, loving how its rough texture provided him extra grip as he climbed.
Heaving himself up, he surveyed his score. He could have kissed that bumbling idiot. There it was, a half finished stack of banana pancakes, complete with chocolate chips and maple syrup. His mouth watered. He walked up to the plate, hands perched on his hips. He had brought a wad of cling wrap to take back food in his bag… but…
Fuck it.
She wouldn’t be home until 7:00, why not enjoy a meal at the table?
Tamius continued to hum that strangely catchy human song, reveling in the freedom of being out in the open. He found himself bouncing along to the rhythm, anticipation building for the oh-so-sweet bounty before him. Nimbly, he danced around the plate, his skillful movements filled with lighthearted vigor, as he avoided stepping in the pools of syrup. He ripped off a large and syrup soaked chunk of pancake, and proceeded to stuff his face. Thank God for dumb huma-
His thought was interrupted by the slam of a door and a myriad of expletives. He felt his body go rigid.
“Fuck, fuck, fuck, I’m going to be late.”
Fuck was right.
Deep breath. He hastily scanned his surroundings. Kleenex box on the table. Cup to his right. Bag on the chair- Bingo.
He dove.
Tamius landed in the open bag with a soft thud, rolling into a stand.
He felt a familiar cocksure grin creep back onto his face. Too easy. This human could throw no curveball that could catch hi-
For the second time in the span of less than a minute, his thoughts were interrupted. His world lurched and he was flung back, narrowly stifling a yelp.
Oh- oh no.
She had come back for the bag.
It was his turn to curse; a torrent of expletives slipped from his lips, whispered fiercely through gritted teeth. Where the fuck was he supposed to hide?? He was trapped. Unknowingly caught. No. This couldn’t be happening. His heart pounded in his ears, nearly drowning out the thunderous steps taking him further and further away from his home. He felt his throat tighten. Fuck. He ran trembling hands through his hair, pulling at firstfulls as if should he pull hard enough he’d rip an idea straight from his scalp. The booming slam of the car door pulled him from his spiraling thoughts.
He needed a plan, and he needed one now.
Breathe. Scan. Asses. Decide. He inhaled deeply, and tried desperately to ignore how his breath quivered in his chest. He was fine. Not scared at all. This human was an absolute ditz. The epitome of human idiocy. He just needed to figure out how to keep out of that colossal ditz’ line of sight. The car engine roared to life and Tamius felt as his every muscle stiffened. They were leaving. He steeled his nerves.
Think. Don’t focus on the car. You need a plan.
His legs seemed to move on their own, as if trying to keep pace with his frantic thoughts.
Okay, so I’m trapped. We are driving away from the house. If I stay in the bag, the bag will get brought back to the house around 7:00…
He chewed his lip. Three hours was a long time to lay in wait in the stupid confined space of the bag, but what other option did he have?? He could try to escape while that big oaf was driving, but then he’d still need to get back in the bag to get back into the house… The house that was growing farther and farther away by the second.
What if he had to abandon the bag? He had no idea where he was. Even if he did, the distance to get back would be insurmountable. His heart hammered in his chest. Leaving the bag was not an option. There was no way in Hell he was leaving this easy life behind. He would figure something out… He had to.
Tamius scanned his surroundings. The bag hadn’t been zipped all the way, and there was just enough light pouring through the opening that he could aptly assess his situation. He sat atop a towel, a pair of shoes to his left, haphazardly thrown in. There was a water bottle beneath him, along with various articles of clothing and a mishmash of smaller items scattered about; pens, deodorant, a granola bar, lip chap, perfume... He let a small smile creep on his face. This human was a mess, and he would not let himself be unintentionally found by someone incapable of intentionally finding their own belongings. If this idiot would just put things in the proper pocket, she’d have no-
Thats it!
He took the small knife he’d fashioned from a discarded razor from his hip. That massive idiot never used the proper pockets! Carefully, he crawled towards the front of the bag. Closing his eyes, he tried to visualize how the pockets were oriented on the bag. In his mind's eye, he saw it; the pouch that sat at the lower half of the front of the bag. Yes! This would work! Opening his eyes, he cautiously judged the distance to right and left. He was dead center. Perfect.
Taking his knife, he sliced methodically, keeping the incision as small as he could manage, lest his handiwork be noticed before returning home. Gingerly, he cut his way into the front pocket, clambering inside. He breathed a sigh of relief; it was completely empty. She had no reason to peek in this pocket. He was safe.
Tamius barely managed to finish his sigh of relief when he felt himself lurch forward as the car came to a halt. He clenched his teeth. Everything is fine. There’s nothing to worry about. The dumb human was just going to do dumb human things for a few hours and then he’d be back home, safe and sound. He just needed to wait it out.
His world was jostled as the bag was haphazardly lifted up and slung around the human’s shoulder. He gripped onto the internal fabric of the bag’s front pocket to avoid getting sent flying around. His stomach felt as if it dropped farther and farther with each step, and he swore he could taste the sweetness of the banana pancakes rising up in his throat. Tamius swallowed hard.
Enough of that. This was pathetic. He’d found a safe spot. All he had to do was wait around for what? Like 2 hours and change? A total cakewalk. Baby Food. An absolute nothing. This was fine and he was fine.
He listened intently, trying to gather any information he could about his location and surroundings. The sound of a door closing shut... Foot falls echoing… Voices… Voices with a particular resonance. He grimaced. Wherever he was, it sounded like a large open space. As he continued to listen, his scowl deepened. He counted the voices; one, two.. Three… four, five, six… seven…
He stopped after he reached 10. Suffice to say there were too many humans.
The feeling of dread was overwhelming. He couldn’t see a damned thing, and though he doubted he wanted to see his predicament, the lack of sight gave him a creeping feeling of being vulnerable. The booming voices resonating in an open room so far above him… he felt so small.
No.
Not felt.
He was so small.
Of course he knew he was small. He’d never stood taller than a coffee mug for the entirety of his life… and yet… he never truly felt small. Not like this. This was overwhelming. The mental barrier he'd work so hard to wedge between his conscious mind and the primal fear that lurked just beneath the surface shook under the realization of his own insignificance. Just the presence of beings so astronomically larger than himself made his stomach churn. His head fell into his hands as he struggled to keep himself from shaking. God, he felt pathetic. Just a few hours. He could manage. He would manage.
The booming chatter died down as the sound of human music filled the room. A strange rhythmic thundering coincided with the change in ambiance. He could feel the floor shake beneath him. As strange as the surrounding noise was, he welcomed the sound of human music.
You could never know what it's like
Your blood, like winter, freezes just like ice
And there's a cold, lonely light that shines from you
You’ll wind up like the wreck you hide behind that mask you use
He found his voice joining in, shaky and soft,
"And did you think this fool could never win?
Well, look at me I’m coming back again,
I got a taste of love in a simple way,
And if you need to know while I’m still standing, you just fade away,”
As he sang along softly he felt his anxiety melt away, slowly but surely. The minutes dragged on, punctuated by changes in songs, and occasional muffled shouting, indistinguishable from the surrounding noise. Tamius tried to calculate how long he had left by adding up the approximate time of each song… two minutes here, four minutes there -
Thud.
A tremor far more impactful than all those preceding it shook him from his thoughts. He heard a distinct grunt, and then, again, another thundering sound of impact, like something colossal crashing down. The noise was far greater than any foot falls he’d ever heard.
Thud.
He heard a human speaking somewhere above him. Though muffled, he recognized it as his enormous dolt of a human. She had muttered something about needing to use more.. hip?? Surely he couldn’t have heard that right.
Thud.
“Better, but like, I feel like I’m not getting any pop, you know?” What??
Another voice muttered something in apparent agreement.
“You mind if I try one more time?”
This piqued his interest. Carefully he gripped the rear of the zipper, opening the front pocket just a fraction. Just enough to see what could be causing such a commotion… and what it could possibly have to do with hips and popping??
As he laid his gaze on the pair of humans the fear he felt was instantaneous and palpable (tasting strangely like banana pancakes). He knew no amount of quiet singing would quell the rising panic from what he’d seen. For a moment, it was as if his brain refused to register the scene before him, as he stood unmoving, mouth agape. He saw his human, but it was as if he was truly seeing her for the first time.
Her messy hair, slick and soaked in sweat, and tied back revealing sharp and focused eyes. Her figure, no longer drowning in her typical oversized clothing, was not at all what he had expected. Her broad frame had always seemed to suggest she was heavier, and he'd assumed they had just been soft, or chubby… Looking now, she was certainly broad, but the size she carried was overwhelmingly muscular. Each thundering step caused her legs to tense and relax, giving Tamius flashes of muscular definition. He swallowed numbly. Awe and horror swirled in his mind. He wanted to look away… pretend he'd never seen the sheer power that had been sitting underneath her lazy attire, but he couldn't. This couldn’t be her.
She was smiling; saying something to another human towering above him. He hated how familiar it was; her smile, her laugh… it was undeniably her, yet it was as if he could barely recognize the behemoth standing before him. He stared up at the pair, mind somehow both racing and numb simultaneously… And then they moved.
He felt like the wind had been sucked out of him.
Humans were supposed to be slow. His human especially. But the reality he had become so accustomed to seemed to crumble around him. The other human reached towards her, but with uncanny precision, she redirected the incoming arm before it could touch her, her body moving with obscene fluidity. Tamius found the ease of her movements disturbing, as he watched her clear past the oncoming arm, stepping in flush to the other human's side. Her free hand reached around their body, with her trailing hand snapping around the opposite side, locking her grip tightly around the other human's body.
Before Tamius’ brain could catch up to what was happening, the human was airborne.
Thud.
His whole world seemed to shake. Both physically and metaphorically.
No.
No. No. No.
He felt bile creep up his throat. This… this couldn’t be her. She's a mess. An idiot. A ditz. Not.. not this! She fucking threw another human with such well practiced ease as slinging a bag over her shoulder. His knees trembled for a brief moment before giving out entirely. He fell back into her bag, tension rising as reality set in around him.
That human was a threat.
He looked down at his hands. They trembled. Stop.... Stop. Stop! STOP! FUCKING STOP! It felt as though he was pleading with his body, begging it to submit to him. His hands never stopped shaking. Hiding was all he had, wasn't it? Not strength, not speed, not agility… The only thing keeping him safe was the fact he was too small to be noticed.
