#grumpy giant

[tinycoded360]

Jack and the Beanstalk One-shot

Author note: You gotta do the Beanstalk story at least once, lol. My own spin and twist on a classic giant/tiny story. 

The sun dipped below the horizon as Jack Whittaker, a ten-year-old homeless boy with dirty blond hair and blue eyes, sat huddled against the cold stone wall of an alley. His tattered clothes barely protected him from the biting wind. Jack's stomach growled loudly, but he ignored it.

"Have you ever heard about the land of giants up in the clouds?" asked one of the boys, his eyes wide with excitement. "They say there's a whole world up there, just waiting to be discovered."

"Giants? In the clouds?" Jack echoed, his eyes sparkling with wonder. "What do they look like?"

"Massive! Bigger than any building you've ever seen!" replied another boy, stretching his arms wide to emphasize his point. "And they live in houses so tall, they reach the sky!"

"Imagine what treasures we could find if we could get up there," mused a third boy, his voice filled with longing.

"Treasures?" Jack's heart skipped a beat. The thought of finding something valuable enough to change his life, to lift him out of poverty, was too enticing to ignore.

"Of course! They're giants, after all. Everything they own must be worth a fortune!" said the first boy with a mischievous grin.

"Jack, you should come with us next time we go up there," one of the boys suggested, noticing the younger boy's interest.

"Really?" Jack asked hesitantly, torn between excitement and fear. The idea of climbing into the clouds to explore the land of giants was both thrilling and terrifying.

"Sure, why not?" replied the older boy, his grin growing wider. "I heard one of the older bandit guilds got their hands on some magic beans. They grew the giant stalk just north of the kingdom. It's still there; neither the giants nor kings men have cut it down yet. This is our chance!"

"Maybe...maybe I will," Jack whispered.

One day, Jack found himself surrounded by a group of older boys who were eager to embark on their next adventure

"Jack," said one of the boys, his eyes twinkling with mischief, "we're going up tonight. You've heard our stories, and I know you're curious. Don't you want to see it all for yourself?"

Jack hesitated, torn between the allure of the unknown and the fear that gripped him at the thought of facing the giants. He stared at the ground, scuffing his worn shoes against the cobblestones as he weighed his options.

"Come on, Jack," urged the first boy, slapping him on the back. "You've got nothing to be afraid of. We'll keep you safe."

"Alright," he breathed, his voice trembling with anticipation. "I'll do it. I'll climb the beanstalk with you."

"Welcome aboard!" the boys cheered, clapping him on the back and ruffling his hair.

The massive beanstalk loomed before them, its twisted tendrils reaching for the heavens like the arms of an ancient god. Jack's heart raced as he gripped the rough surface of the stalk, feeling the pulse of life beneath his fingertips.

"Remember, just follow our lead," one of the older boys whispered, his eyes shining with anticipation. "We'll have you up there in no time."

As they finally broke through the cloud barrier, a vast expanse of verdant green stretched out before them. The sight took Jack's breath away – everything was enormous, from the blades of grass that towered above him like redwoods to the insects that buzzed lazily through the air, the size of small birds.

"Come on," the first boy beckoned, gesturing toward a distant mansion that appeared to be carved from the living rock itself. "Let's claim what's ours."

As Jack tiptoed through the immense hallways, he couldn't help but marvel at the sheer scale of everything around him.

"Stay close to me," said one of the boys, noticing Jack's unease. "We'll find something valuable soon enough."

Jack nodded, swallowing hard as they pressed on, acutely aware of the danger surrounding them. What if the giants discovered their presence? Would they be crushed like insects beneath their enormous feet?

"Look!" the boy beside him hissed, pointing to a door slightly ajar, golden light spilling from its edges. "That must be where the treasure is!"

The door swung open to reveal a vast, glittering room filled with treasures beyond their wildest dreams. Jack's eyes widened as they took in the shimmering gold coins and precious gemstones.

"Quick, start grabbing what you can!" one of the boys whispered urgently, his voice cracking with excitement.

As they scrambled to pocket their loot, the ground beneath them suddenly jolted, causing Jack to stumble and drop a handful of sapphires. 

"Guys, I think we need to leave now," Jack stammered, his heart pounding.

"Too late," another boy replied, his face pale as he stared at the colossal figure that had just entered the room – the giant.

"Thieves! You dare steal from me?" the giant roared, his voice shaking the very foundations of his home. Panic set in as the boys realized they were caught, and they frantically searched for an escape route.

"Run!" Jack shouted, darting towards the nearest exit. His friends followed suit, scattering like mice before a cat.

"Come back here, you little vermin!" the giant bellowed, his massive footsteps echoing as he chased after them.

Jack's mind raced as he sprinted down the hallways, desperately trying to remember the way back to the beanstalk.

But in his haste, he took a wrong turn, finding himself at a dead end. The giant's thunderous footsteps grew closer and closer, and Jack knew there was no way out.

"Caught you, little thief!" the giant bellowed, reaching down to snatch Jack up in his massive hand. As the other boys continued their frantic escape, Jack stared in terror at the enormous face looming above him, knowing that he was truly alone.

The giant's eyes burned with rage as he stared down at Jack, his tiny form trembling in the grip of the massive fist. "What were you thinking, stealing from me?" the giant demanded, his voice thundering through the room.

"Please...I didn't mean any harm," Jack stammered, tears streaming down his face as he looked up at the gargantuan figure above him. The disparity between them was overwhelming.

For a moment, the giant's expression softened ever so slightly as he considered the fear-filled face of the human child before him. "You're just a kid," he muttered, although his tone remained harsh. "But that doesn't excuse your actions."

"Please, sir, I'll do anything to make it right," Jack pleaded, his heart pounding in his chest. He knew that the other boys had managed to escape, leaving him to face the consequences alone.

"Fine," the giant grumbled. "You will work off your debt to me."

Jack resigned himself to his fate as the giant's prisoner. He was carried to a small cage in the corner of an enormous room and locked inside.

The giant man leaned down so he could peer into the cage.

“My name is Argus. You can call me Sir or Master Argus. Now, if you listen well, we’ll have no problems, do you understand?” Argus gruffly asked his tiny captive.

Jack quickly nodded, not wanting to upset the giant man.

“What’s your name, boy?”

“J…. Jack….Sir.”

“Humph, I’d say nice to meet you, but considering you’re a little thief, it’s not.” Argus grumpily grumped. “Now what ever I ask you to do, I expect it to be done, or I will have to punish you.”

Jack nodded his head again, not wanting to gain his wrath.

“Good, now you’ll sleep here tonight. We’ll talk more in the morning.”

***

True to his word, the giant kept Jack busy, forcing him to perform various tasks around the house. Jack was often caged or leashed by a collar around his neck, the gold chain connecting him to the giant's wrist like an unbreakable bond. When the leash was on, Jack had no choice but to sit in the giant's palm, feeling utterly helpless and vulnerable. Argus wasn’t too rough with him. Seeming to take great pains not to crush him. He even made sure Jack got a bath and clean clothing. Jack hated to admit it, but the giant kept him well-fed as well. When Jack gathered the courage to ask about the leash and collar. Argus just chuckled, saying he'll take it off when Jack has earned his trust.

"Hand me that paintbrush," the giant ordered one day, sitting at his desk. Jack, for once not attached to the leash, was given free roam of the giant’s desk. Argus knew full well that the tiny thief couldn’t get down on his own.

Jack grabbed the requested brush with shaky hands and handed it up, his entire body quivering at the thought of accidentally dropping it.

"Good," the giant grunted, using the brush to add delicate details to his canvas. Jack couldn't help but admire the skillful strokes from such massive hands. "Now, hold still. I want to paint your portrait."

As Jack obeyed, he couldn't help but wonder if this was his life now – serving a colossal master, forever bound in servitude. His thoughts turned to the other boys, who were undoubtedly in their own world again, free and enjoying the treasure they stole. It was unlikely the other boys would come to save him. They probably believed his bones were ground up to make the giant's bread. Or they simply did not care enough to risk their lives for him, a simple street rat. Despair settled heavily on his heart as he realized there was no going back for him.

For a while, Jack was despondent, missing his freedom and his friends back home. But gradually, as days turned into weeks, his curiosity got the better of him. He started asking the giant questions about his people and their world. Though gruff, the giant seemed pleased by Jack's interest and would spend hours telling the boy tales of his ancestors.

Argus would often scoop Jack up in his colossus hands and place him on his shoulder as he talked to the boy. Jack felt like a parrot on the giant shoulder, perched there. He had no choice but to grip the giant’s shirt. While listening to Argus talk about his society and history, he felt less afraid of the giant man. Maybe the giant wasn’t as terrible as the stories made him out to be.

The sun was setting as Jack sat on Argus’s shoulder. The giant sat on the hill overlooking the breathtaking expanse of the world below. From this vantage point, nestled among the cottony clouds, Jack marveled at the beauty of the land he had only ever known from the ground.

"Um, excuse me," Jack whispered, tugging at the strands of Argus’s beard. He had scooted closer to the giant’s neck. "I... I need to tell you something."

The giant tilted his head, trying to look down at his tiny companion, a mixture of curiosity and concern etching itself onto his rugged features. "What is it, little one?"

Jack swallowed hard, steeling himself for what he was about to confess. "I... I'm sorry for stealing from you when I first came here. It was wrong, and I shouldn't have done it."

"Thank you for your apology, Jack," the giant said gently, a hint of sadness in his voice. "It takes courage to admit one's mistakes."

Jack felt a wave of relief wash over him. "I want to make things right," he continued, his voice barely a whisper. "And... I want to go home."

Argus frowned. “And what will stop you from returning to thievery? Can you even survive on your own? From what you’ve told me, you were a homeless child begging on the streets.”

Jack flinched at the harsh words. “I won’t, I promise. I’ve learned my lesson!”

“Boy, your human world isn’t as kind as I’ve been. I’ve heard they hang thieves, even as young as you, for stealing. Sometimes, they take their hands.”

Jack hunched his shoulders up to his ears. He found it hard to argue. When he saw it happen to other thieves in his group.

“So, I’m waiting. What will you do to survive on your own? Hmmm?”

Jack felt his lip tremble. “I’ll get a job!”

“Will you know? With what skills…. what kind of job can you do?”

“I…... I’ll…. figure something out! You’re being mean!” Jack cried, feeling anger burn in his gut.

Jack yelped in surprise and fear as Argus reached for him. His humongous fingers curled around his tiny form, pushing him into the giant palm. The giant fingers curl around him, forming a fist trapping Jack there. Jack found himself pressed against Argus’s chest.

“Hmmm, I guess I’ll have to teach you then.” Jack could feel Argus’s words rumble in his chest.

“Really? Then will you let me go?” Jack asked with a bit of hope in his voice.

“Only if you learn well,” Argus warned.

Over the next few weeks, the giant man took it upon himself to teach Jack lessons that would prove invaluable in his world. Jack's days were filled with tasks ranging from cooking and cleaning to gardening and sewing. The giant observed him closely, offering guidance and gentle corrections as he worked.

When it was time for bed, Argus gently placed Jack on a pillow on the nightstand instead of the cage. Smiling up at the giant, Jack felt happier than he had in a long time. He was no longer a prisoner here but a friend.

After months go by Jack feels confident and comfortable. One night at dinner Jack decided to confront Argus, asking to be let go.

Jack felt like a tiny mouse sitting before a giant lion as it ate its meal. Jack was thankful Argus had no interest in eating him.

“Have I done well, Master Argus? Have I learned the life skills you’ve given me?” Jack asked once he got his courage. He tried to ask it politely, sweatily, hoping to gain favor from the giant.

“Hmm, you have. You’ve done very well.”

Jack smiles brightly. “So, does this mean you can let me go? And take me back down to the human realm?” Argus was the only one that could take Jack down there. The giant had poisoned the beanstalk, making it wither. No one could go up or back down. But Argus seemed to be the gatekeeper of sorts. He could plant a new one if he wanted to. Otherwise, Jack would have tried to escape long ago. But with the beanstalk gone, there was no point in risking his life in a giant world where giant animals could eat him, or another giant could find him and maybe live up to the stories and grind his bones into bread.

Jack's smile faded as the giant's massive fingers curled around him, enclosing him firmly but gently. He looked up, confused, as Argus picked him up and brought him close to his face.

"What are you doing?" Jack asked.

Argus regarded him solemnly. "I have reconsidered. You are not yet ready for the world below."

"But you said-" Jack protested, pushing against the giant's grip.

"The human world is filled with danger and temptation," Argus rumbled. "You are still a boy. I will keep you here until you come of age."

Jack's heart sank. "How long?"

"Eight years. When you reach eighteen, you will be a man fully formed and can fend for yourself."

"No!" Jack cried, tears stinging his eyes. Eight years as a prisoner, even a pampered one, was unbearable. "Please, I want to go home!"

The giant shook his great head. "My mind is set, little one. Do not fight your destiny." Argus gently smoothed Jack's messy hair out of his eyes. Jack tried not to flinch as the giant finger pushed back his hair. “Don’t look so sad. You won’t be a prisoner. You’re just a kid. Think of this as an apprenticeship. This is more than you would get down there.”

Exhausted, Jack slumped in the giant's grasp.

“How will I not be a prisoner? You’re keeping me here against my will!?” Jack asked, his anger getting the best of him.

“Hmmm, I promise, no more cages, collars, and leashes. I’m only keeping you safe as my ward, ok? I’ll even set you up with your own room in the west wing.”

Jack looked up in surprise at this, locking eyes with Argus. “Really? I’d get my own room?” Jack asked. He had trouble imagining it. He’d get his own giant-sized room. More space than he’d ever have on earth.

“Yes. It will be your own space. I’ll even make some tiny doors for you and other ways for you to get around.” Argus was looking at him with a soft look. Which was rare for the grumpy giant.

Jack relented with a huff and a warm fuzzy feeling in his stomach. Perhaps it wouldn't be so bad here. Argus had become like a father to him in some ways. He was stern, but he had protected and taught Jack a lot.

So, Jack would make the best of it. And when the day came that Argus unleashed him on the world below, he would be ready.

[kaiju-wolfdragon]

TJ's grumpy today:

TJ: what are you doing here?.....

[fastboatsmojito]

just saw ur scott reblog gRAAAHH WOOF WOOF anyway !!! and it inspired me to request something <3 (love ur writing btw) pls write something with scott and how big he is 😣 a lil suggestive if u know what i mean 🙈

OHH YOU GET IT SO HARD + thank you so much !! 🫶🏼🫶🏼 whenever someone says they like my writing i get so giddy, it’s just the sweetest 😞

Anyways!!! Absolutely, thank you for fueling my obsession with this large man 💓

Just some scattered Scott x reader thoughts really

|CW; somewhat suggestive, he calls you girl once ☝🏼 incredibly obvious size kink from both parties whoops, he’s pretty canon-accurately an asshole, + suggested dom/sub relationship stuff??? Kinda??? Like not really but a little bit??? idk how else to tag that lmao. Obviously there’s a size difference here but it’s not specific, you could really just be shorter than him and it’d work just the same mwah <33

The first time you really notice is a total accident, you got caught up in the sight of the storm in front of you, not even given time to react to his stern “get in.” before he’s picking you up and putting you back in the car.

“What the hell was that?” He snapped, figuratively and literally as you blankly stare at him, still focused on how effortlessly he carried you back to the car.

“I’m sorry. I don’t know, it was just so close-“

“Yeah, no shit it was close. You could’ve gotten yourself killed. You have to pay more attention than that.”

You just nodded, staring at the way his hands flexed as he drove away, suddenly aware of the drastic contrast between the two of you. He picked you up like it was nothing, which was nothing considering the size of him, you just hadn’t thought about it in that way before.

——

He doesn’t think anything of it for a while, chalking your lingering glances up to his over-analytical mind, until you unintentionally piss him off with it.

“Is this going to be a problem for you?” He was right in your face, arms crossed over his chest as he bitterly chewed his gum, working himself up even more when you couldn’t give him a direct answer.

“If you can’t do your job ‘cause you’re too busy staring at me or whatever the fuck, I’ll have to move you to Javi’s team. Got it?” He barked, shaking his head as he stormed off.

As soon as he realizes why you’ve been staring at him, it’s over.

You were at the diner with the rest of the team, smiling as you walked to the table, bumping into some hard, tall, figure in front of you on the way.

He turned to steady you, big hands landing on your waist. “You ever try paying attention to what you’re doing? It’s pretty helpful.” He was a dick, sure. But you still found yourself focusing more on the feeling of his hands and the way your face warmed up at his assertive tone.

“You ever try not being an asshole?” You rolled your eyes at him before you walked away, but he didn’t miss the pause, or the way your breath picked up at his words. He put it together then, having been so caught up in work he didn’t realize just how tolerable you were getting, his hands constantly drifting towards you absentmindedly whenever you were close enough.

——

He usually went to work to get his job done and go home which was made clear, but after a while he got carried away. Comfortable enough being around you to end up reluctantly carrying you out of the car one night.

He tried to wake you up, met with sleepy grunts and you repositioning yourself before falling back to sleep.

He wanted to just leave you in the car, give you a blanket or ‘whatever’ but it was too cold, and you were in some small town he didn’t know well enough. He rolled his eyes as he took you out, large, rough hands a nice juxtaposition to the way he gently lifted you up.

He had to bring you to his room, not sure of where your room key was and not interested in dealing with your mood if he woke you back up.

He laid you down on the bed, throwing the blanket over you before taking off his work shirt and getting ready to begrudgingly sleep on the couch in his own room.

He went to turn off the lights, groaning when he saw you sit up, whining and stretching your arms.

“You know your necks gonna hurt if you sleep on that couch, Scotty. C’mere.” You sleepily muttered, patting the bed next to you.

He knew it was a bad idea, not missing the new nickname as he put his face in his hands, too exhausted to argue and too self-aware to disregard the attitude he’d have if he woke up to you in his bed and a sore neck.

“Jesus Christ. Alright, fine. One time. Don’t make it weird.” He gruffed as he turned the light off before slipping into bed next to you.

You were facing him as he faced the ceiling, his arms crossed firmly along his chest like some grumpy old man, still awake and motionless when you cuddled into him in your sleep.

——

After that he’s basically torturing you until you say it out loud. Putting his hands on your waist all casual to move past you, refusing to acknowledge any of it first.

Both of his hands were on your shoulders as he crouched down to be eye level with you, losing his patience after he caught you staring at his arms when he was trying to talk to you.

“If you want something, you’ll have to use your words like a big girl and ask for it. All this pouty, wordless shit won’t work with me. I need you to listen to me when I talk to you.” He spat condescendingly, minty gum popping in your ears. He grabbed your chin between his thumb and pointer when you shook your head.

“No? I can’t give you what you want if you don’t tell me what you want. I’m not about to guess.” You squeezed your eyes shut to get away from his intense stare.

“I don’t want to say it here.” You barely whispered, opening your eyes when he sighed.

“Damn it.” He breathed before pausing, standing up tall and scanning over the parking lot you were in.

“Alright, come on.” He said bluntly before grabbing you and throwing you over his shoulder.

“Scott-“ You pouted as he swept you back to his motel room.

“Just shut up and let me help you out for once, yeah?”

-

I need him so bad

[cada4us]

trying to figure out how i want to draw carlos’s face while Also still capturing his likeness (it’s hard)

[mrsoharaa]

Friends with benefits with Miguel, but he avoids kissing you on the lips whenever the two of you hookup for a steamy, raunchy fuck session. Always either buries his flushed face deep into the juncture of your jawline, neck or trails his hot lips all over the rest of your body. Feels like kissing you on the lips is a contract. A seal for something more intimate and confidential. Something he clearly was not ready for. And you obviously notice that, and it demolishes your heart that your picking up the "subtle" implications.

[bluecloudsandwhitesky]

Wait people think chaggie is boring? Have they’ve seen their height difference?

[free-boundsoul]

ERIKKKKKKK

GIVE US NON-CANON DAMIEN AND HUXLEY AND MY LIFE IS YOURS!!!

[afraidparade]

stupid idiot. get kissed dumdum

[whosname]

[id. Drawing of Gintoki as a cat wearing his renho cat fursuit. His eyes are full of tears and he's saying "you *snif* you'll regret this *snif* you'll see *snif snif* end id.]

Heeey, stop teasing him.

[alpacasandwine]

I was laughing at this meme and I was going to comment something about how Kratos got a heartwarming ending in Ragnarok. But then I realized something...

The last prophesy Mural Kratos sees in the end of the game depicts him as a beloved God, probably because he got rid of Odin and this whole game it became canon for Kratos to want to do the side quests to help the Nine realms to heal from all of the shit Odin made the realms suffer

And that got me thinking, wasn't there something about how after Ragnarok a new God (Revived Baldur) would rise to fill the role of the Main God in the poems about Ragnarok irl? I remember hearing something like that in a video about Norse myths but I am not sure

What if the ending of the game is simbolizing that? Kratos becoming the beloved god of the nine realms after the previous evil Gods died at Ragnarok?

And if that tale was meant to be a way to put the Christian God into the ending of Norse mythology, wouldn't that make Kratos the Christian God?????

Maybe I am just tired, I have been fixing my code for a revision tomorrow and I feel like I want to sleep for a whole winter, maybe I am just overthinking stuff because my sleepy ass wants to go to bed lmao

[ittybittybumblebug]

Nothing like waking a grumpy giant knight (who has zero people skills) from his enchanted slumber, eh?

[kaiju-wolfdragon]

Grumpy mega giant:

[h0wi1e]

Wholesome au where Wallace isn't put in a zoo and he just lives with Ally and Teddy and they have movie nights and fall asleep in a cuddle pile.

[stanlees-stuff]

In the last post you said Ez fights and that is why there are scars all over him That same post you said Mike learn medical stuff from a witch doctor

So where is the art of Mike trying to take care of Ezs boo-boos :(

okay you got me there >:] here it is

after a hunt was unsuccessful and he got hurt badly, mike had treated his scars. again.

when Ez is stressed, usually after a hunt, he becomes non-verbal and communicates with grunts. mike still understands him since they know each other so well.

it's just a routine at this point, it would be a miracle if ez is able to come back without getting hurt lol

anyways bye >:]

[sophiegoose]

Giant!Miguel Character/AU notes

Howdy.

I return to the Spiderverse G/t tag with my other Big(tm) Miguel/AU.

I've workshopped this guy and the world he comes from quite a bit. I plan on writing a multi-part reader x fanfic about him at some point down the line, so he's gotten a lot of fleshing out and Lore(tm).

This will be closer to an actual character profile with some lore and storyline beats mixed in compared to my previous Sizeshifter!Miguel post.

Hope y'all enjoy. :>

Name: Miguel

Pronouns: He/Him or It/Its

Species: Giant

Age: 810 (roughly 30-35 in human years)

Height: 150 feet/45 meters (head and shoulders taller than most other giants)

Occupation: Alchemist and tapestry weaver. Previously an armorer, weaponsmith, and warlord.

Associated magical sphere: Spiders

Appearance: Miguel is a looming figure  with tan skin, which is covered from head to toe in scars. These scars range in size, shape, and depth, suggesting combat with a variety of beings over the course of his lifetime. He has a very buff body type, with broad shoulders and pronounced musculature.

He has sharp cheekbones and a square jaw, and piercing red eyes that glow with an eerie, dim light in the dark. Several more pinpricks of glowing red are arranged under each of his eyes, appearing to be additional eyes/light-sensing organs. These lack pupils and eyelids. His jaws are lined with sharp teeth, with elongated incisors. His toes and fingers have long, tapering claws, which have a straight edge and cannot be sheathed. He has medium length black hair, which is slightly curled and has interwoven hints of grey.

He wears a black shawl, consisting of numerous layers of sheer black fabric. This is woven over his body in several layers, creating a skintight bodysuit that covers his body at its innermost layer. The outer layers are woven into a black cloak that obscures most of his body and face from view.

This outfit is magical, and freely responds to Miguel's will. It wraps and unwraps, weaving and unweaving from his body, transforming into any garment he may need. It also acts as an extension of his personage:  any damage done to it felt by him. It can be unfurled into a large web that can entangle and snare foes, or weave around him tightly, forming a cocoon for protection, and anywhere in between.

Most days, Miguel wears this outfit in the form mourner's cloak, with a bodysuit wrapped around him underneath. He rarely lifts the hood of his cloak to show his face, with only his glowing eyes visible within. The fabric has a faint iridescent sheen.

Backstory:

Miguel is a giant, one of many magical creatures that call his world home. Giant society is somewhat separated from the rest of the world: most of their villages and cities are built atop banks of clouds, high above the world below.

Due to their lofty home and intimdiating size, giants tend not to mingle with other species, but there have been times where giant society has meddled with the lives of those below, for better or for worse.

Miguel was once a famed weaponsmith and warlord, waging battle under the sigil and banner of the Spider. He took part in a massive conflict that spanned centuries and multiple kingdoms, involving numerous species and innumerable casualties.

While the war initially broke out between small local factions for land and resources after a devastating natural disaster, it quickly devolved. It turned into a clash of kingdoms, political causes, and warring economies. As kings, feudal lords, rebels and outside warlords joined the fray, things got ever more tangled,  complicated, and bloody. As these groups forged alliances and lost their comrades one by one, they began to lose track of what it was the war had been started for and what they were fighting for other than vengeance. The carnage spanned across entire generations for some of the species involved, with humans bearing the brunt of casualties.

Things came to a head when the toll of war hit too close to home: Miguel's daughter was captured by a rival kingdom. The human ruler of said kingdom called for her execution in retaliation for Miguel's direct destruction of a town on the outskirts of their territory.

Miguel arrived just in time to see the life fade from his daughter's eyes.

Overcome with the pain of his daughter's death and wracked with guilt for having lost himself so deeply in the bloodlust of war, Miguel lost the will to fight. He retired from the warfront and became a shut-in.

He spends most of his days alone, now.

Residing in his secluded home on the outskirts of a floating city, he neighbors several other giants who once fought under his command. He doesn't socialize with them often, instead spending his time pursuing what little remains of joy in his life.

He weaves tapestries and clothing, creating elaborate pieces in an attempt to express his emotions, and making pieces in tribute to his daughter. Occasionally he'll take up commission work, creating decorative armor pieces or aid in repairing older pieces of his. He dislikes when people brings weapons into his home of any kind.

Many long centuries have passed since the war ended, and while to humans and other beings in the world below it is merely a legend, relegated to a footnote in history...

To Miguel it is still a crushing weight upon his life that is slowly suffocating him alive.

And so he weaves his tapestries, much as a spider would weave its web, and seeks penance and peace amongst the ruins of his life.

Personality:

Miguel is stern, well-spoken, and regal...but make no mistake, he is NOT as level-headed as he seems.

Neither his smooth voice nor flowery language can hide his animalistic tendencies, deeply held trauma, and barely-contained temper. He is quick to anger, jumpy at even the smallest of sounds, and filled with a deeply jaded rage towards the world, himself, and, most intensely, humans.

He has a deep contempt and hatred for humans, viewing them as lowly, vile creatures whose intelligence and craftiness is only ever used for personal gain and trickery. He once freely allied with and fought alongside humans, but  now views them as monsters, despite the obvious hypocrisy and misdirected rage of this sentiment. Should he ever find a human in his home there's no telling what he'd do...

That being said, he doesn't extend such violence and disdain to everyone.

He has maintained relationships with many of his former comrades, as well as friends and relatives...although his increasingly reclusive behavior worries them. He's fiercely loyal to those close to him, betraying a softer side he prefers to keep hidden, concerned for their safety and worried he may lose another person he holds close. He rarely admits to or shows this vulnerability: he doesn't want to appear weak, nor have others take advantage of that weakness. He can't take any more pain than what is already upon his shoulders. Not again.

As such, he remains focused on his work and the solitude of his home, rarely letting anyone in, both physically and emotionally.

Powers/Abilities:

-Sphere of the Spider:

Giants are inherently magical beings. Their massive forms exist thanks to the powerful magic that flows in their veins, and they're more susceptible to magical attacks and spells than most other species. Deeply intuned with the flow of magical energy that moves through all things, giants take on a sphere/focus of interest to better hone and utilize their magical aptitude.

Some choose a particular profession, such as farming, smithing, book-binding and so on and apply their inherent magical skill to these pursuits. Other times, a sphere of magic will chose a giant to take it on.

Miguel was approached by the spirit of spiders herself, who granted him great power in exchange for spreading her sigil far and wide. He accepted...

But her blessing was a double-edged sword.

While she greatly sharpened his senses, gave him immense strength and agility, and honed his already exceptional skills in alchemy and weaving to a fine edge, he suffered many side-effects. While the growth of his extra eyes, his fangs, his claws, and the sharp increase in his senses were tolerable, other changes were not so easy to adapt to.

Extremely sensitive to light and vibration, Miguel is uncomfortable in direct sunlight and dislikes loud noise and music. He has also developed a visceral dislike for birds, and motifs for them are associated with death in his artistic works.

He is most active at night, something that clashes with the sunshine-loving norm of giant society, and his animalistic nature does startle even his fellow giants at times. Miguel is, however, overall grateful for his connection to this particular sphere of magic. He feels it suits him.

-Weaving/Alchemy:

While Miguel does not produce his own silk, his arachnid powers do lend well to the art of weaving and alchemy.

Miguel can weave with traditional materials, such as cloth, string, and rope, but he is also able to magically weave with other materials. He can change the alchemical properties of any material he touches, allowing him to spool it out into thread that he then weave into the item he's working on.

For example, Miguel's weaponsmithing process is different than any other in the world. He starts with the materials he intends to use for a piece, then thinly spools them out into thread, tempering the metal with alchemy. He then weaves these metallic threads into intricate patterns as he slowly but surely assembles a weapon of immense durability and sharpness, one strand at a time.

His weapons are renowned for their sturdiness and unique aesthetics, with a very distinct organic, woven style that makes them easy to spot. His textiles are also in high demand, as they are easily enchanted and are resistant to fraying or tearing. His tapestries are said to glisten with threads made from traditionally unheard-of materials, with strands made of alchemically-altered diamond, platinum, stone, wood, and more.

His pieces are highly sought after, but his clientele know that he's not easy to hunt down and get a commission slot. He is a grumpy, morose recluse, and that doesn't seem like it'll be changing any time soon.

Additional notes/info:

-Miguel is pansexual, panromantic, and polyamorous (though he's not been active in the dating scene for quite some time). He currently has no partners.

-Miguel's home is a looming, brutalist structure formed from stone. Inside there are several support pillars and rafter-like beams that he freely leaps between and crawls along. Any visitor better be ready to climb to reach most of the rooms inside.

-His home has a garden at its center, with a ceiling of enchanted glass that captures and casts down sunlight in glimmering colors. It is filled with plants from both the surface world and giant lands, with tangles of fruit trees and grape vines growing in the gaps between the shadows of massive trees native to giant lands. The entire garden is encircled and criss-crossed by an artificial spring, which is filled with rainwater from the bank of clouds Miguel's home is built on. He often harvests fruit from his garden for his meals.

-Housed in at the center of this garden, resting in its own custom-made pond, is the last remnant Miguel has of his daughter: a goose, crudely carved from gold. This enchanted object was sculpted and brought to life by his daughter through alchemy. Although an amateur work by the standards of most alchemists, it was deeply precious to her. This goose can eat any metal, and will take what it is fed and alchemize it into eggs made of solid gold. This goose is very precious to Miguel, and he pampers it as a pet, spoiling it rotten with hand-carved foliage made of different, high-value metals, and dotes on it daily.

-Whether he admits it or not, he has a soft spot for children, and is often a babysitter for his extended family and group of friends. He's particularly fond of the child of his former battle comrades Peter and MJ, and treats their daughter, Mayday, as if she was his own. He'd kill the very gods for her.

[baekuras]

Elden Ring DLC is already amazing bc the first thing I did was die so some stealthy screaming naked maniac with gauntlets and the second thing I did was avoid the dog on fire that was positivley surrounded by bloodstains