This Was A Beast Of A Project But It Was Worth It! Have Some G/T Point Of View Goodness.

This was a beast of a project but it was worth it! Have some G/T point of view goodness.

LMFAO OMG i was relistening to some good disney tracks and I decided to look up the music video for Here I Am (from Spirit) because its a fuckin awesome song and LOOK ITS G/T AAAaAA THIS WAS SO UNEXPECTED

To Your Health pt. 2

Warnings for this chapter: Male humanoid giant with female human tiny, some moderately strong language, fearplay kind of?, very brief mentions of violence but no actual violence, same with vore (it’s only briefly mentioned, not actually done)

The giant looks fairly human, but is a species I made that’s a combination of several creatures from folklore.  I’ll expound on it a bit more in the next chapter, which will be out by around this time next month, probably a bit earlier.

Also, I’ve decided that Shea is American but of Iranian descent.  The giant is just a big caucasian dude.  German probably?  Idk, German guys are cute, let’s go with that.

Putting it under the cut~

Fair, rough fingers ripped through the nylon tent like it was nothing more than a package of candy and grasped Shea around her midsection tightly.  The air was wrenched from her lungs as she was wrenched from her tent and lifted out into the dim twilight.  Staring down at her, with a sheepishly surprised expression, was a giant man.  

 He was likely a few years older than she was, but around the same age.  He had a somewhat long face with eyebrows noticeably darker than his dirty blond hair.  He had fair, but somewhat ruddy skin, likely from years spent out in the sun.  Stubble lined the lower half of his face and the top of his neck, and Shea could see a large crescent shaped scar on the side of his neck.  Shea stared silently up at his face and trembled softly.  She pushed on his fingers, trying to draw in a breath but his tight grip only allowed her to pull in quiet, shallow, gasps.  

“Fuck,” he said abruptly, breaking the silence.

 “Wait, stop!” Shea cried out as he thrust her quickly into the chest pocket of his green and brown plaid shirt.  She tumbled down the smooth flannel walls and landed in a heap at the bottom of the pocket.  She faintly heard his heartbeat, but couldn’t focus on it over the sway of his shirt as he began to walk, and the overwhelming sense of the “walls” closing in around her.

 Her breathing began to pick up its pace until she was nearly hyperventilating.  Her heart pounded in her chest and her sweaty palms grasped at the base of her neck.  Her pounding heart overpowered any other sounds around her, the blood rushing in her ears as she quivered weakly.  Not only had she just been kidnapped by a massive man who was easily several times taller than her apartment complex back home, but he had decided to carry her in a cramped, dark, sweat-scented space.  Shea was overwhelmed.  She pulled her knees in close to her body, hands clenching at her shoulders as she essentially hugged herself, trying to calm down before her panic attack could get worse and potentially make her get sick or pass out.  Either of those things could anger the giant and spell out her doom.  Despite her panic, she was able to think clearly enough to come to that conclusion.  

As she began to calm down, Shea realized that the pocket was no longer swaying.  She glanced upwards and froze.  Looking down at her from the top of the pocket was the giant, his concerned eyes peering down at her.  She gasped and flinched back, trying to press herself down further and away from his gaze.  Fear controlled her.  Realistically she knew there was no escape, but her mind instinctively instructed her to make herself as small and unnoticeable as she could, and to back away as much and as quickly as possible.  His eyes shone eerily, more like an animal’s than a man’s.  This only increased her fear.  As the last vestiges of sunlight vanished, she was left in complete darkness, only vaguely able to make out the shape of his head high above her and that faint glow from his eyes.

 After a moment of staring down at her, the giant spoke.   His voice was a deep, thunderous rumble to her, the vibrations of it shaking her from her position against his firm chest.  It took Shea a moment to understand what he was saying.  The volume of his voice combined with the vibrations from it made it difficult to understand him.

 “I’m not going to hurt you,” he said down to her.  He had a calm, even voice, with the faintest of western American accents.

 She didn’t believe him in the slightest.  If he wasn’t going to hurt her, why did he feel the need to destroy her tent and abduct her.  She shook her head softly, but offered no other response.

 The giant let out a soft, short sigh and pressed the lip of the pocket flat against his chest once more, essentially “closing” it.  He resumed walking, and the pocket resumed its swaying, tapping Shea lightly against the giant’s chest with each booming footstep he took.

 Left alone with nothing but her thoughts and the various sounds the giant made–his breathing, his heartbeat, his footsteps and, most upsettingly, a faint rumble from what she knew must be his stomach–Shea began to realize the hopelessness of her situation.  Nobody was going to come looking for her.  The few people who knew where she was were all half-way around the world.  And if anything, they may assume she was just having a bad depressive episode and had decided to take a few extra days to herself.  Nobody was going to find her because nobody cared.  She was completely at the mercy of this giant, and assuming she couldn’t escape somehow, there probably wouldn’t be a body for anyone to find.  If a search party actually was sent out and actually did find her and she actually wasn’t dead at that point, it would still be hopeless.  What could anyone hope to do against a creature so massive?  He could crush or eat any human easily.  If he had gripped her any tighter when he had first picked her up he would have snapped her in half, likely with the same amount of pressure a normal human would use to crush an insect.  She was less than nothing compared to him.  The thought sent her heart racing once more.  

 She pressed her shaking body down in the very bottom corner of his pocket and began to tear up.  The fear and frustration and hopelessness welling up inside her was spilling out.

   “Crying won’t solve anything, stop it,” she thought.  Shea took a deep breath, trying to calm herself.  “Whatever happens at this point is going to happen.  I can’t do anything to stop it.”

 Her attempts to calm herself were almost successful.  She didn’t want to feel anything.  She especially didn’t want to feel everything she felt in that moment.  If she was going to die then she wanted to die with a comfortable numbness in her: a familiar, comforting emptiness.  She wanted to feel the same way she had allowed herself to be numb when her parents divorced; she wanted to feel the same way she had when she gave up on finding meaningful relationships.  She sniffed and took a deep, but strained, breath.  

 When she did, she felt him stop moving again, and felt a firm pressure begin to press on her from the opposite direction of his chest.  She squirmed fearfully at first, but allowed herself to nearly go limp after a moment.  It was his hand.  It was almost like he was hugging her.  She didn’t want or need his comfort.  She knew it was all a lie.  If he wanted her to feel comfortable he would have left her in her camp.  Whatever he was doing, it wasn’t for her benefit.  Shea knew that she would be his victim on one way or another.  Every seemingly kind gesture he did up until her demise was just him toying with her.  

 She struggled not to panic again in the suddenly tighter space, but thankfully he removed his hand after a moment.  She was relieved, but only for a moment.  The giant had stopped walking once more.  After a brief moment, Shea saw two huge fingers enter the pocket.  She squirmed away from them, but did nothing to try to get away once they pinched her torso once more and raised her out of the dark confines of the pocket.  The giant lifted her up to his face, but she couldn’t make out any features except for his eerily shining eyes.  She stared back up into them as he seemed to inspect her, her heart pounding in her chest.

   “Are you cold or afraid,” he asked bluntly, oddly cool breath blowing over Shea.  It smelled like meat, and made her uneasy.

 She tried to respond but the words wouldn’t form.  She simply nodded slowly up at him.  A soft, rumbling chuckle emanated from deep in his chest and he set her down on the ground.  She immediately began to run.  It was as if her body was running on auto-pilot, her fight or flight instinct kicking in and overpowering and possible thought processes she could have had.  Something huge and hard crashed down in front of her, and upon barreling head-first into it, she was knocked to the ground and left with a searing pain in her forehead.

   “Shit,” the giant mumbled.  His voice was much more easily understood from this distance, Shea noted groggily.  The idea that she could potentially have a minor concussion crossed her mind briefly.  She placed a hand to her forehead and already felt a lump forming beneath the skin.  She leaned forward and retched right as she felt something large gently rest against her back.

 “Jesus christ,” he said, this time louder and with a very clearly disgusted tone.  The pressure on Shea’s back quickly withdrew, but slowly came back, rubbing her spine.  She couldn’t see it in the darkness, but internally Shea somehow knew it was his finger.

 She wiped her mouth off on her arm and sat in the dirt: weak, terrified, in pain, and too dizzy to move without vomiting again.

 “Sorry.  I can’t handle vomit,” he said.  Shea didn’t respond.  The giant waited a moment before scooping her back up.  “Guess I can’t let you sleep alone then.  Can’t risk you trying to run off again.”  

 She managed a weak whimper in response, and internally kicked herself for it.  She despised how weak and childish she sounded.

 “I’ll explain when you’re feeling more talkative.  I’m sure you’ll have a lot of questions,” he said as he walked a few steps away from where she had been sick.  He sat down on the ground and heaved a low sigh.  “Sorry,” was the last thing Shea heard before she slipped out of consciousness, still being gripped in his rough hand.

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you know what i fuckin want

lord of the rings g/t  - interactions between hobbits who’ve never seen big folk before and are totally freaked but i dont feel skilled enough to write in the arda universe bc tokien is some good shit and it makes me sad when i see butchered lotr fanfiction 

i was in a mood™ today