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i-am-beckyu · 1 year ago

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In the Hands of my Tormentor

Yelloooooo! Been a lil bit since I've posted any writing! Been a bit hard getting much written with life and work at the moment but I had this random g/t thought and ran with it to get this lil fic. So enjoy another random oc created for the purpose of this fic lol.

Premise: You've been transported to another world where giants see humans as lesser and have ended up the pet of a Count.

cw: Fear, fear of death, fatal scenes mentioned, panic, mentions of being eaten alive, death mentions (no one dies tho), anxiety, torture, manipulation. Just the opposite of what I usually post lol. wc: 2318

Terror.

That’s all I could feel as I watched in horror as the giant noble scarfed down their meal. Giant fangs tearing through meat 100x my size, as if it was sliced bread. I forced myself to not react as I heard them swallow, knowing full well should they tire of me- their pet, I may very well be the next one sliding down that wretch’s throat.

In this world, Giants didn’t see anything smaller than them as intelligent. If you were found, the lucky ones either died or were crushed between teeth as big as boulders like food. And if you think ‘How’s that lucky?! That’s horrid!’ Be glad you’re not the one being digested alive.

But even that was a mercy compared to my fate.

Every day I tread the thin line of a tightrope; a timer hanging over my head. Forced to live life as a performance, every step perfect in order to please my Master.

“TWIRL!” He’d demand.

“JUMP!” He’d spit.

“SING!” He’d sneer- and I’d do it without hesitation or face death itself.

For as humiliating as it was, being ‘keep’ worthy; even for a derogatory laugh, it was better than being deemed useless and ready for brutal discarding. And with how little manic glee he’d been having with me lately, that may be sooner than not. For if I have no worth, what’s stopping them from doing away with me?

Tonight I was on display at another one of their dinner parties. Parties they threw more to show their class standing and possessions than for company. Sometimes I’d be in a cage forced to sing like a songbird, other times I’d be kept on the table with a ribbon clamped around my ankle to perform tricks or be petted by gloved fingers.

The guests would often have varying responses at my presence.

“Such a rare delicacy humans are and you're wasting it as a pet?”

“What a wretched little thing it is. Why not just eat it and be done?”

“As amusing as it is, why keep it around when it’s a better snack?”

After a while, you learn to tune out the loud voices. It’s just a reminder I’m only seen as food, insignificant, a pest. I only listen to the Master's voice. He’s the only one that matters. I sit just to his right today. The ribbon on my ankle is too tight, and I can feel the way my foot has started to go numb from the lack of blood flow. I look at it absentmindedly, the phantom pain of a blade forced against an angry scar, throbs against the ribbon. Strange I can’t feel my foot and yet still feel the pain of past escapes. I stopped trying a long time ago. Better to submit then endure his sick pleasures again.

I try not to think about the will I’ve given up; the life I’ve submitted to and try to listen to the giants conversing overhead.

Had it not been for the size difference and ignorance to the obvious, the giants were just like us. Take away all the power-hungry madness and torture of the little guy and the giants were just like humans if they were living in a medieval fantasy. Perhaps in another world, I would have been one of the guests…

“Dance, Human.” Master demands, and I stand and let my body move the way I know it pleases the giant. I don’t even think about the steps anymore, I just let myself move as if I were a robot programmed with the steps.

The giants above me laugh, clap and snicker. I know I’ve done my dance right. They’re all talking around the table, some whispering to each other with cruel gazes locked on my form. Others are spitting profanities at me and joking to my Master about making me do more tricks.

There was only one giant that didn’t seem interested in my suffering. They sat at the opposite end of the table silently, and hadn’t moved much beyond drinking from their cup. I didn’t pay them much mind. One less giant drooling over me was a blessing.

I let their voices blend together as I continued to move, the only voice I was listening for was my Masters, and I knew he was grinning ear to ear with all the attention on his greatest possession.

His rare and desirable human.

“Now sing.” He says sickeningly sweet and my mouth obeys as I sing old scales used to warm up my voice whilst I continue to dance.

He never said I could stop.

I don’t know how long this continued for, the time always blurred together with every order and step at these events. All I know is the giants are enjoying it for the time being and all hungry eyes are on me. I will do as they want till I’m so desirable, that Master snatches me away- just teasing the lessers with what they can’t have. I can see the manic glee in their eyes at being so close to myself. I know what they want, and I scold my expression to not let the fear show on my face.

My legs ached, but I pushed on; my voice wasting away from overuse. Everything was starting to burn from the effort it took to do both. I sang a long high note and began to spin, a bad combo but my brain was on autopilot. How much longer till I collapse?

“Stop.” Master demanded; my saving grace but not by much. I stopped immediately, finishing the pirouette and ceasing my song. I didn’t dare move despite my labored breathing, fully aware that the command wasn’t just for me, for in the corner of my eye I saw it.

An outstretched white, gloved hand reached for me- and it was not my Masters.

That was all that was said before the ribbon around my ankle yanked me back, sending me tumbling forward as I was reeled in. I kept my head down, biting my tongue to stop myself from screaming as I felt the glazed wooden table burn against my hands and knees as I was dragged. My performance was done. And so was the fool of a giant that had tried to take me.

Or so I thought.

Giants had tried to take me from Master before that was a given, but I was his snack (as he liked to remind me) and those that had tried to take what was his, had been dragged out shrieking. But this one had the room silent. Someone with a demanding presence other than my Master had the room freeze.

“So Ed,”

“That’s Count Edwin, to you.” Master spat at the other Giant.

“May I remind you who the Duke is here, Count Edwin.” the Duke replied nonchalantly, taking a sip of his drink. I saw the way the Master's hand tensed at the notion.

He was irritated.

Very few had the nerve to undermine him and make it out unscathed. So far nothing had happened to this Duke, which made him a threat.

“I understand you invited me here tonight to make a deal.” The Duke asked.

“Yes, that’s correct.” The grit in the Master's voice confirmed my suspicions. He’d interrupted his showing off. They were treading on thin ice.

“I wish to put a natural water irrigation system to my crops from the south river. The river in question however, borders the edge of your land and in order for me to utilize it, would require access to your land.”

“And you want me to allow your filthy hands access to my river.” The Duke remarked.

Master's hand tightened on his utensils. Whoever this man was really had the Giant getting into a tizzy, which was never good for me. For all the time that I’d been here, it was very rare that anyone dared to go up against Master, let alone insult him. I felt a slight sense of justice from the thought. Even if it would never be me to do it, at least someone would knock them off their high horse.

I couldn’t help but glance up to see what such a person looked like and was surprised by what I saw. It was the uninterested giant from before.

Just like their attitude, the Giants' features matched their blunt, cold attitude. Jet black, side swept hair and dressed in a navy blue velvet coat, adorned with gold trims and fine sapphires bigger than my head, the Duke- the most regal man I’d ever seen in all my life, was listening to my Master with an icy cold stone stare.

The man seemed bored of this tedious exchange and I could tell their patience was beginning to run thin as my Master blabbered on and on about the Giants river.

I wondered how long the fire would build behind the Duke’s eyes before their tolerance met its peak, and would put my Master in their place. For once I was glad they paid me no mind.

“I have much gold to offer in return for the river and with the greater yields we would produce, I’m happy to offer 5% of the total harvest.” Master’s smile curled into a grin as they folded their hands. They did that whenever something they wanted was about to go their way.

I averted my gaze back to my feet at this. They always got mad when they caught me staring. How sad I knew what his tells were.

“While your offer is good Edwin, as a Duke with the amount of land I have, your offer is insignificant to me. Why give you access to my river when I produce five times the amount you yield in a year?”

Master lost his composure at that, clearly not expecting such a response. Unsurprising when he acts like a toddler who has never been told no. “Well yes but-”

“If you expect me to share such a precious resource, I expect a greater sum.” The Duke cut him off. “Or an offer with something of rarity to actually compensate for the price. Something like…”

No. No, he can’t mean…

The duke took a sip from his cup as if contemplating, but only a fool didn’t know he’d already made up his mind the second he set eyes on me.

“That human.”

The Duke slammed the cup down, hitting the table with a clink as my head shot up and snapped straight to the Duke, my worst fears confirmed reality. The Duke’s ice blue eyes bore into my small figure. If I thought my grubby Master was scary then the Duke was sheer terror.

His eyes pierced my very soul pinning me in place, and I stared straight back, unable to hide the terror on my face despite the consequences. Though it could have just been adrenaline, I swear I saw their eyes soften when they noticed my expression change, though it did little to put me at ease. His presence was terrifying and it hit me then why the room was so quiet. Why Master was so mad he had no control over this Giant.

This was a man with power.

I knew if I was what it wanted, then no one would be stupid enough to say no twice. Everyone in the room knew what his eyes were locked on.

“You want me to trade my human, for access to the river?” The Count replied as he dragged me closer, pulling me away from my terror. “That hardly seems fair seeing how incredibly rare and delightful they are. It’s just about bored me enough that I'm peckish. I love to break their spirits just enough that they’re kicking and screaming to the end.”

At this, I was flung into the air with a yelp before the Count caught me in a harsh grip. I cried out in pain as he squeezed my ribs tight to the point I was sure they’d break.

“It would be a waste to let all this time go to not enjoy them myself.”

“It’s the human or nothing.” The Duke insisted. “You have nothing more that I want.”

I risked looking up at the Duke again, the fire in his eyes seemed to have tripled. “It’s as you said, humans are incredibly rare. Are they truly worth a yearly supply of better income?”

My Masters hand began to squeeze tighter around me and I’m only lucky that the air had been forced out of my lungs enough before I could scream. His anger being directed on the only thing he could control in the moment, only for the pressure to leave as quickly as it came and I found myself falling.

“Deal.”

And that was the only warning I had before everything flashed a violent white. My whole body was in complete and utter agony and yet I couldn’t even scream. I could feel silent tears dripping down my face as my vision began to dance with black blurry spots. This is where I died.

Everything felt cold, until it wasn’t.

I felt myself engulfed in pure warmth as careful hands moved and cradled my broken body. I could hear muffled voices shouting and moving before the slamming of a door ceased all else. Dark blobs broke in between the black and I knew deep down I was in the Duke’s hands, but the soft warmth they provided blurred all other judgment. I hadn’t been warm- truly warm since I’d been brought here, and yet somehow I was now at ease.

Perhaps it was just my mind twisting the truth as a last mercy to let me die peacefully.

“Rest now,” A voice whispered over head as the world faded to black. “I’ve got you now.”

Funny how my mind could create such a promise after so much pain…

✩₊˚.⋆⋆⁺₊✧ ✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧ ✩₊˚.⋆⋆⁺₊✧

Don't worry, the Duke's actually the good guy in this lol. I have it head cannoned that he fixes them all up and helps them get home.

I may write onto this, I might not who knows! The fact I've written in a different pov to me is wild though! Thank you to squishy, xyz and especially munchkin for beta reading this. (Seriously savior on my grammar qwp) Thank you if you read this far and I hope you enjoyed!!!!

Tag List Link here: @local-squishmallow @brick-a-doodle-do @justarandomsloth @veryfunkycheesecake @munchkin1156 @kayla-crazy-stuffs @da3dm @eiscreme135 @orchid-harmony @the-tiny-lurker @colossal-red @nobodywritingao3 @nata2343 @bad-author777 @crazyfoxgirl10 @guppybubbles

(also side note: other wips are still being written. I am aware JORNOS has not updated in months but it's not been forgotten <3)

#beckyu writes #my writing #my ocs #gt #g/t #gt writing #g/t writing #giant tiny #giant/tiny #size difference #gt community #g/t community #read the content warnings before proceeding #it's kind of a grey area for tagging :/

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blametheeditor · 2 months ago

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The Little Things

The title of 'best friend' is a daunting one to live up to. Especially when it feels like you're worlds apart despite always being within grabbing range, in more ways than one.

Content Warnings: Cursing. Mentions of dehumanization. Mentions of death. Self-deprecating thoughts

I blame Jeremy _________________________

Jeremy stares at the room stretched out before him from where he stands just outside the kitchen.

A year ago he would never be caught standing out in the open. Even though he’s standing right next to the wall with an escape exit only a foot away, he wouldn’t risk staying in a spot where there’s no shadow covering him, no ledge sitting above his head to keep him out of sight. Not only is it dangerous, there wouldn’t be a reason.

When he’s small enough for something like carpet fibers to be cumbersome to walk over, he can’t say he really wants to be reminded of his size. Would rather stay inside the walls where it’s impossible to be constantly bombarded by items ten times his size. Stay where it’s warm, and safe, and he doesn’t think about just how miniscule he is compared to the rest of the world.

Because on the best of days, he’s only terrified of his safety. On the worse of days, he realizes he’s nothing but a pest to be squashed without a second thought.

This isn’t a year ago, though. Which means despite his instincts screaming at him to get back inside the walls, to get out of sight and hide, Jeremy stubbornly stands away from the cabinet’s ledge offering cover in order to get a proper view.

The living room is massive. The ceiling is so high above him he gets dizzy if he looks at it for too long, therefore any texture it possesses completely impossible to make out. The four walls stretch to reach the incomprehensible height, with the ones standing opposite of him seeming to become washed out and unfocused when he looks at them. The carpet floor stretches on for miles, the individual fibers becoming hazy to his eyes the farther away he looks. The opening of a hallway looms in the background like a foreboding creature that could form any shape at any moment.

It’s the furniture, the items that manage to fill such an incomprehensibly large space, that are the true culprits that make him feel insignificant. The TV stand that stands a mile high with the TV itself adding another mile to the already foreboding height, the remote that controls it too big to carry. The couch that’s too far away and therefore too blurry to make out proper details casts a long shadow, promising proper shelter and items aplenty to collect.

The picture wouldn’t be complete without a human, though. What better way to show just how small he really is than to simply have the being such items were created for sitting among its collection.

Even as the human lies on the couch, eyes closed as they sleep, it’s all that’s needed to put everything in perspective. That the TV is no where near the right height for proper viewing. That the couch isn’t big enough to stretch out to their full size. That the ceiling and hallway can be reached either by jumping up, or taking a few steps.

Jeremy is able to be walked toward and grabbed effortlessly.

A year ago that would have terrified him more than anything. Now, he’s wishing this particular human was awake and spotted him already instead of slumbering away.

Sighing, Jeremy grabs the strap of his bag before taking a tentative step away from the wall. Because it would be quicker cutting straight across rather than following the wall all the way around. But habits die hard, and despite knowing for a fact there is only one human, it’s hard to willingly walk completely out in the open. With every step he takes, he’s bombarded with thoughts of stomping shoes, grabbing hands, falling objects, but he stubbornly continues on.

Trying to focus on something else, Jeremy finds himself staring at the human. A towering being he should be running away from, not walking toward.

He will admit, humans are terrifying. They’re loud enough to hurt his ears without even trying, always needing to cover his ears if one starts yelling even if they’re in another room. They are capable of effortlessly pinning him down with a single finger, most of their digits longer than he is tall and always significantly stronger, not to mention too heavy to move even when there’s no force being applied.

They also don’t enjoy having uninvited guests around, especially by creatures small enough to be crushed by shoe, a category borrowers unfortunately fall into.

Jeremy also meets the arbitrary requirements of being a pest or a pet. Pets are anything easy to tame or control if the former isn’t possible. If a borrower isn’t willing to do tricks or behave, there’s always putting them inside a cage to keep. Truthfully, it seems like a fate worse than being viewed as a pest. To have his borrowing habits of taking crumbs of food and collecting forgotten items seen as a crime punishable by death, he would take that over being treated as a mindless animal for the rest of his life.

...or would he? Both fates are terrifying, but would he really rather be squashed like a bug like he didn’t have any thoughts or feelings, or be locked in a cage and have his wants and desires disregarded in favor of being able to hold and pet him against his will?

A shiver runs up his spine as Jeremy shakes his head to physically get rid of the disturbing choice. One he never wants to have to face. One that, ultimately, wouldn’t be his choice to make.

That actually makes all of this so much worse. The fact that if he had a preference for his fate if he’s ever seen by the wrong human, ever caught, he wouldn’t be asked. Wouldn’t be treated as someone with thoughts and feelings, but as a creature or object who’s will holds no bearing on what the one with all the power wants.

The overwhelming fear and dread gripping his heart has Jeremy freezing the moment he steps into the looming shadow the couch creates. Finds himself tilting his head back to see the monolith of a human still slumbering away before looking straight ahead at the welcoming darkness offering safety and protection.

Once again, it’s a slap in the face seeing just how insignificant he is. That he finds comfort in hiding somewhere completely out of sight, and no one would know he was there. Not a human or another borrower as long as there’s no reason to look underneath. Something he should be glad about because that means he’s safe from being seen. Yet it also makes him want to curl into a ball knowing he doesn’t matter.

Jeremy quickly digs into his bag to grab his climbing hook. Doesn’t let himself linger on the fact it’s tightly woven thread tied to a paperclip, both items a human would barely notice if they went missing and so inconsequential they’re continuously dropped and tossed away without a second thought. Forces himself to focus on throwing his hook up directly above him to catch it on the seam of the couch, aiming so he doesn’t accidentally hit the fingers hanging over the edge.

He gets it on the first try, and the moment he feels confident his hook won’t fall after giving a few tugs he’s quickly climbing up the thread, not letting the twitching fingers distract him.

Hauling himself on top of the cushion, Jeremy squeaks as a warm breath ruffles his hair, glaring at the oblivious human softly snoring. Fixing his curls, he carefully steps away from the edge, inadvertently putting him even closer to the towering being. Closer to the hand that could grab him at any moment.

He has to admit he’s always been a bit fascinated by humans. They look exactly like borrowers, just on a much bigger scale. The five fingers on a hand are familiar, but they seem to be an entirely different entity at such a larger size. The face is like looking into a mirror, and yet it almost feels like the expressions made on such a scale are imitations rather than real emotions.

He’s always wanted to get a closer look. It’s interesting interacting with a much larger version of someone like you. He didn’t dare test his luck walking up to an unknown human, though, even if they were asleep. The possibility of being caught always kept him far away.

Tearing his eyes away from the monumental chest rising and falling with every breath, Jeremy looks at the hand sitting beside him. Takes a few silent steps closer until he can reach out and nudge the thumb.

“M-Mike?”

The steady breathing pauses, as if asking a question. Then an eye bigger than Jeremy’s head carefully opens, looking around to find who’s demanding its attention. The moment the borrower’s spotted, the held breath releases as a smirk appears.

“Hey, Jerber. What’s up?”

Jeremy hesitates, unsure what to say. On one hand, his instincts are screaming at him to run and get as far away as possible before the human gets the chance to grab him. On the other, he just realized he woke a human up from their nap for reassurance.

Suddenly feeling guilty and worried that Mike will be upset for getting woken up for seemingly no reason, he physically backpedals. Squeaks when he finds himself tripping over the very thumb he nudged to gain attention, freezing when his back hits another finger as his legs lie over the thumb, trapped.

The human tilts his massive head, opening both eyes as the smirk turns into a grin bigger than he is. “Did you want to join my nap, or do you want to fuck shit up?”

Jeremy stares up at his best friend with hopeful eyes. “The s-second one?”

The grin only grows wider, not a single hint of anger for having his nap cut short all because someone smaller than his hand wanted attention. “Hell yeah. Want to start with food?”

Jeremy straightens at the offer. “C-Can you make an omelet?”

“Omelet it is,” Mike agrees. Easily. As if the person making such a request isn’t small enough to have their voice drowned out by a heavy sigh. And yet he’s carefully sitting up, all intents and purposes to make food someone else declared him to make despite most likely not feeling hungry, at least not enough to have woken up himself.

It’s only then as the human begins to properly tower over him does Jeremy realize what that means for him. Before he think about how he can safely run to his hook with such a catastrophic being moving around, the hand surrounding him begins to move on its own accord. Elicits a squeak of panic as the finger at his back curls around his chest, the thumb forcing his legs closer as he’s then picked up, the feeling over vertigo stealing his voice away.

When it finally returns, Jeremy’s softly shrieking as the hand tilts back, making him fall for a breathless second until he’s tumbling into the massive palm. Instinctively he curls into a ball, the overwhelming fear of falling off the hand holding him making him tremble. He is all too familiar with just how tall humans are and how the counters he consistently scales only come up to half their height. It’s still dizzyingly high, and at least then he has a way to safely get down, not to mention it never moves.

Sitting inside a hand of someone who could decide to drop him without warning, or who could trip from a misplaced step, there’s nothing Jeremy could do to save himself from such a fatal fall. Nothing he could do to stop the hand from turning against him to pet his hair, pinch his limbs, squeeze him mercilessly.

It’s a terrifying thought that someone has that much power over him. But he’ll never be afraid of Mike possessing it. There’s just moments when the borrower’s fear of the what ifs rears its head and becomes impossible to ignore.

“Here, Jerber.”

The borrower in question immediately uncurls to see his hook being offered, pinched between two fingertips that would be impossible to take anything away by force. As he quickly sits up to accept his single most important tool for survival, it’s released into his grasp without any issues.

“Th-Thank you.”

The human smirks. “Anytime, asshole.”

Jeremy doesn’t cower as Mike stands up, though his stomach flips from yet another drastic change in height. This time, he properly sits up to see the living room from a human’s perspective. Watches as the trek that took him several minutes to cross all while stumbling as the carpet fibers attempted to loop around his shoes is completed within seconds by ten effortless steps.

He feels the tug of insignificance. The sharp pain of being inconsequential. Feels his shoulders droop with the weight of the realization that if the human had woke up on his own and walked to the kitchen before the borrower reached the couch, Jeremy could have been crushed without Mike realizing what happened until several hours later.

At the horrific thought, Jeremy’s hands clench tightly shut, making him jump when he realizes he’s holding something. Looking down, he sees its his hook. A paperclip that are useless to humans except for one very specific purpose and even then are always overlooked.

But Mike had taken the time to look for it and return it to its rightful owner. Even though it’s technically a stolen item. Even though the human was confused why it was needed the first time he was shown it. Even though they’re only going to the kitchen and Mike can carry Jeremy wherever the borrower wants to go afterwards.

Not insignificant. Just...severely outmatched.

“Have you tried hashbrowns yet?” Mike rumbles as he lumbers into the kitchen. Instead of putting Jeremy down first, the human moves to collect the ingredients needed for the food.

Before the borrower can respond, the fridge is opening, earning a squeak as a wave of cold air washes over him. He immediately ducks behind the curled fingers, attempting to hide to keep what little body heat he has. “M-M-Mike!”

The human laughs at his plight, but at least the hand is held closer to the towering being’s stomach to offer warmth. “Sorry, I forgot you didn’t fuck with the fridge.”

“It’s too c-cold,” Jeremy huffs, glaring as he sees containers big enough to seal him inside of being set on the counter one by one. “D-Do humans need it to be that cold?”

“I’m not a shitty mechanic,” Mike shrugs as he straightens up. Jeremy can’t help a sigh of relief as the fridge door is closed, only to go rigid as the handle above the fridge is grabbed, unable to hold back a scream of genuine terror as the freezer is opened.

Mike takes pity on him and closes his hand into a fist before a freezing chill reaches the borrower. It’s only a few seconds if being left in the dark and listening to something big, heavy, and frozen getting dropped onto the counter. The hand then opens after the distinct sound of the freezer door shutting, the human looking amused despite Jeremy’s scathing glare.

“Why d-does your hot food have to be c-c-cold first?” he demands, not for the first time.

“No fucking clue,” Mike grins. “I just know shit goes bad when it’s not in the fridge if I’m not cooking it. So do you want to supervise from my shoulder, or man the counter?”

“Sh-Shoulder,” Jeremy replies, unsurprised when the hand immediately lifts up to his preferred spot. No deciding Mike would actually prefer it if he stays on the counter, no proclaiming there never should have been a choice in the first place. Just patiently waiting until Jeremy has climbed up to sit next to Mike’s neck for warmth and stability.

Once he gives the confirmation he’s set, Mike takes his hand away before carefully squatting down to grab two pans from the cabinet to place them on the stove. Far too used to the motions now, Jeremy’s eyes only clench shut when the human stands back up, opening them again to see butter getting put into one before eggs are cracked into a bowl.

“Sorry for crashing when I got home,” Mike apologizes. “Long fucking shift, and Phone Guy needed help moving shit. I didn’t see you out when I got home, so I waited for you on the couch, but then I fell asleep like an asshole.”

“N-No need to apologize!” Jeremy frantically reassures, a pain of guilt hitting him at the realization Mike assumed he woke the human up because he wasn’t greeted. “You said you had to go in early. I kn-kn-knew you’d be tired when you got back.”

Tired, but still checked where he walked to make sure Jeremy wasn’t crushed. Still wanted to say hi to the borrower like he usually does.

“Still a dick move,” Mike says, carefully shrugging his shoulder so Jeremy is thrown into his neck, leaving the borrower slightly dazed and therefore unable to give a rebuttal. “Find anything good while borrowing?”

There’s not a hint of disgust saying the word, no hint of judgement that Jeremy routinely takes lost or forgotten items. Doesn’t see it as something to despise despite anything being ‘borrowed’ most likely the human’s own things.

“A f-few things,” Jeremy murmurs. “H-Hey, uh, Mike?”

“Hm?” shakes him to his core, a simple hum powerful enough to drown out his words effortlessly.

“A-Am I a nuisance?”

The human’s head tilts, and Jeremy can perfectly picture a look of confusion. “No, am I?”

Jeremy sputters as the question is suddenly turned toward him. “No! Absolutely n-not!”

“Thank fuck, I was a little worried there,” Mike grins, his head turned just enough for the borrower on his shoulder to catch the edge of it. “Cause if you think you’re a nuisance, then I must be a goddamn nightmare.”

For a moment, Jeremy stares down at the finished omelet being put onto a plate, the pan being moved away so something he’s only vaguely familiar with can be pulled closer to properly season and cook, his mouth opening and closely as he tries to find the right words.

The only ones that come is “You’re a nuisance?’

“Hell yeah I am,” is said with unmistakable pride. “Phone Guy says I take years off his life. Douche Bag can’t stand being in the same room with me, and Sitches won’t admit it, but the poor bastard’s getting tired stitching my ass up every week. But I’m constantly grabbing your ass, stomping after you and touching your shit without permission. I don’t know how you stand me, Jerber, even when I make you food. Shitty food I know tastes like ass because I sure as hell can’t taste it.”

Mike...Mike thought he’s a nuisance? To Jeremy? All because the human holds him or grabs his things? Thought Jeremy takes his food offerings out of obligation rather than gratitude?

“B-But you’re human,” Jeremy breathes, looking up at what little he can see of Mike’s face as he desperately tries to see their friendship from the other’s point of view.

“Exactly, I’m an asshole,” does nothing to clarify his confusion. “And yet you keep coming back despite knowing what you have to deal with.”

And suddenly, it clicks. Mike doesn’t see the food, and being careful where he steps, and treating Jeremy as a person as a way to make the borrower want to keep coming back, it’s done out of respect. That this isn’t a luxury Jeremy should be grateful to have, but a standard to be met because they’re friends. And if Jeremy suddenly decided to move to another apartment down the wall or a house far away, Mike wouldn’t be upset because his rouse didn’t work, but because he would miss the borrower.

Jeremy would miss Mike too.

Straightening up, Jeremy shoves at the human’s neck for attention. “Y-You’re not a nuisance.”

“Neither are you, Jerber.”

With it being stated so matter of fact, he can't help but agree.

Leaning forward with interest as the food from the second pan is put onto the plate, the borrower points to it even though he can’t be seen at this angle. “What’s that?”

“Hashbrowns,” Mike replies. “They give a good crunch, but Been A Dick says they’re good. I think you’ll like them.”

“What are they m-made of?”

“The bag says...potato. You trying a piece?”

“Yes please.”

“Hell yeah. We’ll eat on the couch and put on a movie, deal?”

Jeremy climbs into the offered hand, crouching down when it carefully moves in front of Mike’s face to not fall over on the unsteady surface. Stares up at the human waiting for his word before going anywhere. The word that will be listened to even if he asks to take his share and eat inside the walls. Even though the hand holding him could put him inside a cage and never be let back out.

The borrower nods his head excitedly. “D-Deal."

#this was definitely the story I was working on finishing at the start of week #yes sir no total rewrites here!#but I do blame Jeremy #this is all his fault!#but I hope ya'll like it!#a bit of a tone shift from the usual shenanigans #and hopefully a good one #hope ya'll have a good weekend!#thanks for stopping by!#FNAF bois #g/t #giant #tiny #BTE writing #The Little Things #cw #content warning

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