#size swap

[entomolog-t]

Curious! What are some scenarios, tropes etc... that you guys like when reading size swaps?

[t3a-tan]

I managed to get a replacement pen, so surprise!!!

Oliver and James size-swapped in honor of posting the first part of New Perspectives ^^

James is not very pleased with being the small one— Oliver honestly just wants tea, biscuits and a good book.

[reborrowing]

size swap shenanigans - val's never really had time to develop ~irrational~ fears like arachnophobia

I've never really done comics and I'm done trying to work out pacing or spacing ah

[hollewdz]

Part of me always longs to see size swaps of characters, or them at the same size and them both realizing how the other had been accommodating them the whole time. Big -> small? They're yelling their throat raw all of a sudden just to be heard. They're exhausted keeping up with things their small does with ease. They can not contain their fear at the least frightening size thing. Small -> big? They can Not hear their big with them so small, even though they're yelling. Constantly forgetting to whisper. they're suddenly hyper-self conscious over everything (My breath might smell? my breathing is too windy? I moved too fast?) They instinctually grab their big because "small thing small". All the mistakes. I often see the big who gets small and their perspective and their journey to empathizing with their small, but the small's realization at just how much you have to temper your impulses when you're around someone smaller, it's something I desperately want to see more of

[spriteinthedark]

I love size swaps!! Also, body swaps can be cool, too!! 😁

I made this meme after reading several a few good fics!

[neonthewrite]

Landing Grey

Today's prompt is AU, and it stumped me a bit. Almost everything I have is already littered with AUs. But then I had the idea of sending poor Isaac Grey to the grey islands, but with a different twist on the original premise. I can even use a bunch of the same tags.

~~~

Isaac woke to a pounding headache. He scrunched up his face against any sign of light as he became more and more aware of the world and wished he wouldn’t. He ached all over; a chill had settled permanently into his bones and the thought of moving drew a groan out of him. He resolutely kept his eyes shut tight while he took inventory of the other sensations around him.

A tide gently flowed somewhere behind him. Occasionally the water seeped into his boots, so he evidently hadn’t even dragged himself far enough out of the water before collapsing. A few birds called in the distance, and what must be trees rustled in the wind. The breeze was cold, but not strong.

Lying on his front, limbs settled uncomfortably, he took a slow, deep breath in. The air tasted of the sea, no surprise there. But there was also a smoky smell, somewhere in the background. He was near someone with a hearth, then.

He closed his hand into a fist where it rested on the sand. The fine grains brushed smoothly against his palms. Even the sand beneath his cheek was smooth, finer than any he’d felt before.

He finally allowed himself to open his eyes, and was overwhelmed by a world of grey. The sand, the sky, the water, all of it dreary and grey as his name. His hand, a light almost-brown, stood out as the only color before him until he lifted his head and noticed greenery past a small stone shelf further back from shore. The overcast sky shone bright, though, and he had a good view of where he’d washed up. It was no beach he’d been to before, by his memory.

The water still lapped at his boots. He needed to fix that. With some effort and a grimace over his sore everything, Isaac pushed himself up to crawl forward a bit more. He didn’t need to go far; he just needed to get fully onto dry land.

He leaned against that rocky shelf with a heavy sigh. Brushing the sand off his face and out of his beard, he looked out over the calm waves with an odd mix of melancholy and acceptance. His boat had broken apart; he remembered that much. He didn’t even see any pieces of it floating out there. He was all too lucky, but it was hard to feel it. Without radio, or flares, or any supplies, he wasn’t sure if he’d manage to keep himself together.

The smoke, he reminded himself. He’d have to go looking for the source of that faint scent on the wind. For now, though … he leaned his head back against the stone shelf, not a comfortable headrest but it was all he had.

The headache did the work of getting him right back to sleep in no time.

~~~

When he woke again, the sky was the same bright grey of before. The wind hadn’t changed, and the tides hadn’t come any closer. He couldn’t have been out for more than a couple hours, though without the sun showing to measure by he wasn’t sure.

As he scanned his surroundings for signs of what might have woken him, his eyes drifted past a small shape in the sand several feet away. Then, as his mind caught up, he zeroed in on it. A figure stood where surely there hadn’t before, rooted in the sand at the end of a trail of tiny footprints.

A miniature man stared up at him, a small face a bit darker than his own but clean shaven, tiny mouth agape. The little man wore boots of what looked like leather, but so very thin, and thin cloth clothes, and a tiny pack that nonetheless looked large perched on his little back. A twig, no, a miniature fishing pole was lashed to that pack. The man could be Isaac on any normal trip to the fishing dock, if he weren’t somewhere near six inches tall.

Isaac blinked very quickly. That couldn’t be right. If he didn’t have to angle his face down, he’d think maybe it was a trick of the perspective and the man simply stood far up the beach from him. But no; he was there, out of reach but quite close.

They were frozen for a moment as they stared at each other, Isaac taking in what few details he could of the smaller man. After several beats of hesitation, he shifted where he sat, leaned away from the rock shelf, and lifted a hand from his side.

That broke the spell over the miniature man. He jolted, then hollered something unintelligible (it might have been words, but not in a language Isaac recognized). He whirled in the sand, those little boots digging into the fine grains and altogether failing to propel him away as quickly as he probably would have liked.

“Oi!” Isaac blurted, lurching towards him. “Wait a second, will ya?”

It occurred to him that he shouldn’t agitate the little guy. If he was one of the fair folk, he could definitely turn around and cause Isaac some kind of trouble, if not now then later. The thoughts didn’t last too long in the wake of his sheer bewilderment, though. He needed to know more about where he was.

To that end, he all but threw himself along the beach after that tiny man (he was speedier than Isaac expected). Even with the element of surprise, though, the little man couldn’t outmatch the reach of someone so much larger. Isaac threw his hands out, forsaking his balance for a chance to catch the little thing.

His hands fell in front of the small man’s path as a wall just as Isaac crashed into the sand on his front. The little man’s steps faltered from the quake, and then stopped before Isaac’s palms. Isaac could feel his own heart beating against the fine grained sand of the beach, and he stared openly at the small figure now corralled between his arms.

As the little man’s legs wobbled and he fell to a seat, Isaac huffed out a sigh. “I’m not gonna hurt ya,” he chided him. “A just need ya to tell me where I am.”

[ray-gt]

Rules of the Party: Luck of the Draw

The party play a game of Potion Roulette. What could possibly go wrong?

(Had to split this one into two parts because it was getting too long. Hope to post Part 2 soon!)

_______________________________________________________________________

There was a lull over the party that afternoon when they sat around camp in the deep woods just outside of the great alpine market of Halambad. Situated in a deep, wooded valley between the three tallest peaks of the East Continent, Halambad was the capital of magic users from all across the land. Sorcerers, witches, wizards, tieflings, clerics, drakes, druids - all and more traveled to Halambad to practice, to trade, to learn. The air in the valley smelled of it, the ground thrummed with its energy, the woods were alive, calling out to it. 

A traveller, on first visit to Halambad, may find this sensation euphoric, transcendent even. However, many of the company had journeyed to the market before and knew that, behind the mystical spells, pretty trinkets, and winking faces, was just another city filled with people doing what people usual do at market: trade and scam. 

 They’d arrived in Halambad more than three days prior with two primary goals in mind: to stock up on supplies, and to scout out a job. By the afternoon in question, even Quinn, who found every aspect of the East Continent new and wonderful, was beginning to tire. 

 Two more days. 

They’d found a merchant in town that would pay handsomely for an armed escort through the mountains and down to Lile, the human city of The Flats. It was an easy job for good money so they’d accepted eagerly. The only issue was that they had to wait until the merchant closed up shop in Halambad and was ready to move on. 

Two days. 

Around the fire, Kip sat with Heron on his shoulder. He was plucking aimlessly at a fiddle. Jade had made Oberon buy him a new one at the market on account of him throwing the last one overboard. It needed to be tuned, but he didn’t seemed bothered. 

Oberon and Almara were paying cards, though neither seemed particularly invested in the game. They stared at their cards with blank expressions. 

Jade was restringing her bow and sharpening her arrows even though she’d done both the day before, and Gallon was snoring with his back against a tree and his arms crossed. 

Quinn looked around at them. It’d been weeks since he’d run off with them and journeyed East on the Burnt Sienna, and for the most part, he’d enjoyed the journey and the company. However, on afternoons like this, a twist in his gut couldn’t help but make him think he’d made a huge mistake. 

“I’m bored.” He said at last, resting his chin in his palm. 

The rest of the party looked up at him, shaken out of their stupor by his voice. He found he had that effect on them - he was, for better or worse, impossible to ignore. 

“It’s like traveling with a pygmy wolf.” Kip muttered. 

Almara rolled her neck on her shoulders. “Sometimes, Quinn, my love, that’s the life. Flashes of excitement, punctuated by a whole lot of terrible boredom.” She said. She plucked a card from her hand and placed it on top of the stack between her and Oberon. “Vantinyulf. I win.” 

Oberon rolled his eyes and huffed. “Well done.” He conceded with a grumble. “That was the last round. There are only so many hits to my pride I can take.” 

“You have pride?” Kip asked from the other side of the fire. “I learn something knew about you, Oberon, every day. What a marvel.” 

“I can teach you something now if you’d like, Elf.” Oberon retorted. 

Kip grinned, “Is that a promise?” 

A sound, halfway between a growl and a groan, emanated from Jade’s throat. “Enough.” She said. “Can we go 5 minutes without bickering?” 

“Unlikely.” Kip said, and it was unhelpful. Then Quinn watched as an idea bloomed across the bard’s expression. “I know how we can pass the time.” 

“If you’re suggesting what I think you’re suggesting, for the last time, no.” Oberon said, but Kip waved him off. 

“Oh, you wish.” He laughed. “But no, not what I was hinting at this time.” His bright eyes landed on Almara who met them and, after a few moments, grinned in turn. 

“Oh, that’s such a bad idea.” She said, already onboard. She looked around at the rest of the group. “Anyone up for a round of Potion Roulette?” 

Jade pinched the bridge of her nose. “No. I hate Potion Roulette.” 

Oberon laughed, “That’s because you’re bad at it.” 

Jade sent him a quizzical look. “You can’t be bad at it. It’s a game of chance. It’s not even a game - it’s just suffering.” She paused and shook her head. “And I always get the worst one.” 

“That’s the spirit!” Almara said, a conspiratorial air overtook her. “So, are we all in?” 

“No,” Heron said, floating off of Kip’s shoulder. Quinn didn’t his best to not stare and failed. Her bright orange wings and amber hair shone amongst all the greens of the forest. She’d kept her distance ever since they’d met, and while he respected it, Quinn couldn’t help but be drawn in by her presence. “It would probably kill me. And I don’t want to be around for whatever chaos you land yourselves in. I will go stay with some local Fey. But you all enjoy.” 

“Alright, Heron.” Kip said with a smile. “You have fun now.” 

She blew him a kissed and flew off into the woods, leaving a train of copper dust floating behind her. 

“I’m in.” Oberon said, returning to conversation. 

“In.” Gallon grunted without opening an eye, making the rest of the party jump. 

“I’m always in.” Kip smirked. 

Almara looked at Quinn. “Quinn, darling?” 

Quinn looked around, they all had a fey look on their faces. However, he’d take that over being bored. 

“I don’t know the game.” He started. 

“All the better.” Kip winked up at him and made his stomach somersault. “That just leaves our lovely Jade?” 

Jade squinted but eventually let out a long breath. 

“Fine.” She said. “But I have a couple of rules. Remember, we have a job and a long journey in a couple of days.” 

“Always a killer of fun.” Kip muttered. “Fine. Let’s have them.” 

“First, non-permanent modifications only. I don’t want to have to go through what happened last time again.” 

“For the record,” Almara purred. “I think Oberon looked rather fetching with a drake tail.” 

“You and every drake hide trader on the Continent.” Oberon grumbled. “I had to trade a pure-bred Lillian horse to get it removed. I support the rule.” 

“Second.” Jade said. “24 hours only. I don’t want anything lingering by the time we start the job.” 

“Makes sense.” Kip conceded. “Third?” 

“We’re adding a blank.” 

There was so much outcry in response to this final rule that you would have thought she was rationing their food, or banning them from drink. 

Quinn, beginning to tire of constantly being confused, sighed. “What’s a blank?” 

“Just the best way to ruin a good time.” Kip muttered, plucking angrily at a string of his fiddle as if to emphasise his point. 

“No blank.” Gallon agreed. 

“Thank you, Gallon. Ever the voice of reason.” 

“Come on, my love.” Almara whined. “Don’t spoil the fun.” 

Quinn watched as Jade’s expression morphed through confusion, exasperation, frustration, back to mild annoyance in a matter of moments. “Have you all forgotten that we’re running hot right now? We need someone with full control of their senses. Lindesse would do anything to catch us unawares.” She said and Quinn felt his cheeks redden. 

“We haven’t heard anything from the Thelebar’s since we crossed the Isle.” Oberon countered. 

“And when have you ever trusted perfect silence?” Jade rebuked and Oberon bowed his head in submission. 

“Ok,” Kip said, standing up and holding his hands in a placating gesture. “Ok. Jade, of course we will agree to the your terms - even if they are cowardly.” 

“Thank you, Kip.” Jade said, flatly. 

“Now that that’s settled.” Quinn spoke up. “Can someone please explain to me what in all realms I’ve agreed to?” 

 *** 

Potion Roulette was a rather simple game. It was popular across the East Continent and most alchemists, brewers, and apothecaries were familiar with it. Though the more professionally-aligned of the craft looked down upon the game, they couldn’t deny it was profitable. It was a good way to shift potions that were close to expiry (or, in the case of ‘Spiked Potion Roulette’, actually expired), to sell off more expensive merchandise, or, as was often the case, to test out something a little more experimental. 

The rules are as such. The players approach a potion seller with a sack of gold and any conditions, rules, or exceptions (in this case, all those listed by Jade) and the seller will, in their turn, provide potions respective to the number of players and value of gold. 

It was commonly understood that a good game of Potion Roulette required at least 5 gold per player - 10 if you were really looking for fun. As the party were including a blank - that is a potion with no effects - they settled on 7 gold per potion. At that range, they could get good quality, mid-range varieties without the usual risks associated with the cheap stuff. 

After acquiring the potions, the players - each blindfolded - take turns choosing a potion. Then, when all have been chosen, the players drink their potions at once and then...well, who knows after that. 

Thankfully, in Halambad, there was no shortage of brewers, though they ranged across a spectrum of reputation. Despite their protests, Kip and Almara eventually agreed to purchase from guild-aligned sellers only. Though that didn’t stop them from seeking out the most interesting of them. 

Ti-afren was a Bog Elf. The Bog Elves are, in Kip’s opinion, strange and unsettling. Though they have a natural gift for brewery and “tapping into the essence of things”, which makes them powerful brewmasters. As such, ‘Ti-afren’s House of Drink, Slink, and Stink’ was known amongst those in the know as the place to go for all things odd. And not long after entering, Kip and Almara left with a crate of six identical opaque silver bottles, shining in the afternoon sun. 

They had no idea what they contained, or what they would do, only that one did absolutely nothing. 

 *** 

They all gathered around, empty potion bottles were strewn about the campfire, silver flickering white in the firelight. To Quinn, it almost felt like ceremony. 

Kip pinched a small piece of parchment from the crate and unfolded it with delicate fingers. Though he couldn’t make out what it said, Quinn could see that scrawled across the page in a jagged, pointed script were Ti-afren’s notes. 

“Ok.” Kip said, Quinn watched the half-elf’s sparkling eyes squint as they quickly scanned across the page. When he came to the end of it, he closed his eyes briefly and hummed. It was like whatever he’d read was honey on his tongue and he was savouring the taste. “This will be interesting.” 

“Enough jest,” Oberon rolled his eyes. “Out with it, Elf.” 

Kip tutted. “No theatre with you, Oberon. Oh well, I suppose you are right - enjoy it, it doesn’t come often.” Before Gallon could demonstrate his dislike for that remark, Kip continued, occasionally glancing back at the parchment for reference. “It says here that the potions should take 10 minutes after ingestion to take effect.” 

“Love that.” Almara nodded appreciatively. “Ti-afren knows what he’s doing. I do enjoy a bit of suspense.” 

“I don’t.” Jade muttered. She’d been nervous ever since Kip and Almara had returned with the order. She’d been the most hesitant to down her potion. “I don’t like any of this.” 

Almara draped a long arm over Jade and held her close. “I know, love. But I think a bit of uncertainty is good for you.” 

Jade just crossed her arms. 

Quinn had a similar twisted feeling in his gut and he was yet to determine if it was nerves, excitement, or the potion not sitting well in his system. Maybe it was all three, or another option he hadn’t considered. He wasn’t sure. 

Regardless, the energy around the group was intoxicating, made even more electrifying by the natural magic that thrummed through the glade. He imagined what his mother would think of him in that moment - playing a dangerous potion drinking game with armed mercenaries, unsure of what would happen. The image of her expression caused him to grin. She’d always kept him so close, under the strictest supervision. No unvetted friendships, no journeys on his own, nothing that would present any risk to him. The only night he’d been granted any space at all was his betrothal. And maybe she was right to be cautious, because look what he’d done with it. 

His smile broadened and a heat bloomed from his centre. He’d taken action. He’d made the decision. There was no way he was going back West. And so with that commitment in his heart, he said. 

“What’s so interesting, Kip? What are the potions?” 

Kip looked up, and seemed momentarily caught of guard by his smile, his forwardness. After a second’s recovery, Kip’s expression was conspiratorial, he rested a gentle hand on Quinn’s thigh and laughed. Quinn hoped the night would hide the heat in his cheeks. 

“I knew you’d have fun, my Prince.” Kip said in a voice that flowed like liquid gold. “We have a good mix of things it seems.” With his free hand, he re-read the list of potions. As he did, Quinn felt his whole body buzz. “Ok, first up, we have Jade’s nasty little blank.” 

Jade’s dour face twisted into a scowl. It was the angriest he’d ever seen her. From Quinn’s observations over the last few weeks, she’d always been the voice of reason. The party respected her as their leader, they accepted her judgement and followed her call, she broke up the fights, and usually put up with Kip’s hyperactive tongue. But here, stripped of surety, she was a lot less tolerant. 

 Kip seemed to notice too and quickly moved onto the rest of the list. “Ok, looks like we have a set of twin potions - at least that’s what I gather from their names.” He frowned. “One is The Upgrade and the other is The Downgrade.” 

“That last one makes me nervous.” Oberon chuckled. He elbowed Gallon in the ribs. “Bet you get that one, brother.” 

Gallon huffed and elbowed him back - hard enough that Oberon lost his footing and landed on his arse. They both laughed. 

“Did the brewer include a list of effects?” Jade asked through a tense jaw. 

“It doesn’t look like it.” Kip said, scouring the page as if that information were hidden somewhere and he just couldn’t find it. “Ti-afren just provided the names, I’m afraid.” He even looked it - just a little. “We’ll find out effects soon enough.” 

Jade paled again and her arms tightened around her chest. Almara crooned and ran her long fingers through Jade’s short hair. In the dark, Quinn could see the tips of her fingers glowing. He wondered if that was just something she did, or if she were using magic to calm Jade’s nerves. 

“What about the rest?” He found himself asking. Kip looked gratefully up at him. 

“We have The Heart Trap - I’ve been the victim of enough of these to have a good idea of what it is.” Kip shook his head as if recalling a memory - or many. He continued. “The Truth Sleuth - not quite sure what that is, maybe a truth serum? And, finally, The Delusion Illusion Solution - Ti-afren does love a triplet rhyme. I can’t say I blame him, I’m guilty myself.” 

He folded the parchment again and put it in his coat pocket. That was that. The potions were known, they’d been drunk. All they had to do was wait. 

Around the group, eyes scanned, trying to guess who’d drunk what, and when they’d take effect. 

Turns out, when you’re waiting, 10 minutes is a long time. 

 *** 

Oberon was first. 

One moment, he was standing among them, a wicked grin on his face and eyes flashing. The next, his whole face went slack, his dark eyes glazed over, and he began to twirl in place, like a village girl during midsummer festival. 

“Dance with me!” He pleaded no one in particular as he laughed and flung his hands around. 

The look on Kip’s face was nothing but unbridled delight. He tapped Quinn on his thigh. 

“I’m guessing that’s The Delusion Solution. Quick, Quinn.” He said. “Remember all of this. Exactly what he says, how he moves, what he does. This is too good for only us to witness - we will turn it into a song.” 

“Hey!” Almara tutted, her arm still slung around Jade who watched Oberon with fear. “Potion Roulette is a safe space, Kip. We agreed to that years ago.” 

Kip sighed. “But -“ 

At that moment, Gallon perked up. However, instead of lumbering over to Kip to punish the bard for mocking his brother, he just stared at Kip, turned, and then dashed into the woods. They all looked on after him a while, puzzled. 

“We’ll see what eventuates of that.” Kip mused. Then he turned back to Almara. “My darling, I’m a poet surrounded by muses! I can’t help when inspiration strikes!” 

Quinn hadn’t been listening. He was focussing in on his own body, wondering when he would know the potion was taking effect. A cold thought hit him and he groaned internally at the possibility that he’d been given the blank. That would be just his luck wouldn’t it? He blamed his mother. It wasn’t logical and it wasn’t fair, but he did it anyway. 

“I don’t care about your inspir-“ Almara stopped. Her face blanched and she looked like she was going to be sick. 

Behind her, Oberon continued to sing and frolic around the fire. 

Kip’s face was awash with concern. It was one of the most genuine masks Quinn had yet to see him don. He took a step towards her, but Almara stuck out an arm telling him to stay back. With a swift movement, she push Jade to the side before collapsing on her hands and knees. 

“What-“ she began but the rest just came out as a long string of pain and curses in a language Quinn didn’t recognise. 

Then Quinn had to blink a couple of times to make sure he was seeing clearly because she began to grow. Every second that passed saw her shoot up bigger and faster until at last it stopped. 

Still bent on all fours, she panted, her periwinkle skin coated a film of sweat that shone like glitter in the flickering firelight. 

Kip and Jade looked up at her - Kip in wonder, Jade in horror. 

Quinn was stunned. She was still shorter than him - that much he could already tell - but on sight only he guess she’d come up to his chest if they were both standing, which would make her about 12-13 feet tall. It was odd, seeing her like this. He could make out the details of her face, the intricacies of the jewellery that decorated her horns. He could see her as he’d been able to see his own people back West. 

When the pain had past and the shock of the transition wore away, she let out a long breath and laughed, running her fingers through her long hair. 

“This is…” She paused, pressing back up onto her knees and examining herself. “Incredible! Ok, stand-up, Quinn. Let’s see!” 

Quinn grinned and got to his feet. 

He was right. He still stood over a head taller than her, but that didn’t seem to dampen her spirits. She looked up at him beaming. 

 “Definitely The Upgrade.” 

Quinn nodded, “I’m biased, but I’d say so.” 

She laughed. Then her gaze turned down to Kip and Jade, who stood with their necks craned. “What do you think?” She asked. 

“It’s fantastic.” Kip appreciated. “You really are a force of nature, love.” 

Almara winked down at him before turning to Jade. Their leader was looking worse for wear. With each new effect, she became more and more skittish. It struck Quinn that maybe for her getting either a potion or a blank was undesirable. They meant she had to either give up control or try to maintain it amongst chaos. The way she looked at Almara though was a whole different emotion.

“Jade?” Almara crooned down at the ranger. “What are you thinking right now?” 

“I’m afraid and confused!” Jade exclaimed. The remaining group stared at her. Her eyes bulged and she frowned, seemingly thrown by her own words. “I don’t know why I said that.” 

Kip squinted his eyes at her and hummed. 

“Interesting.” He purred. “Jade, who do you like more, Gallon or Oberon?” 

“Gallon.” Jade replied without hesitation. She blushed. “Wait, what? I-“ 

Kip laughed, “I was right! It is a truth serum.” 

Jade put her head in her hands, “I hate this game!” 

And she’d never said anything truer. 

Quinn looked at Almara who was studying Jade. There was a fey gleam in her eyes. “That’s fun.” Was all she said, but before she could do anything more, Kip crossed his arms and tutted. 

“You are such a hypocrite!” 

Almara feigned innocence, “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” 

“I know for a fact that you do.” 

“Whatever.” Almara grumbled. She looked between Kip and Quinn. “Only two left.” 

Kip considered this. “Well, we don’t really know what drove Gallon out into the woods.” He said, running a thoughtful hand through his sea-green hair. His bright eyes met Quinn’s and at that moment, the giant was glad he wasn’t in Jade’s position. “Do you feel anything?” 

Quinn shook his head. “No. Though I don’t really know what to look for.” 

Kip nodded, “I don’t feel anything either. There’s just the blank, The Heart Trap, and The Downgrade left. Based on Almara, I guess we can assumed what The Downgrade would be.” 

His gaze became unfocused and his eyes wide, as if he’d only just realised what that would look like in practice. 

“Well,” Quinn intervened before the thought could spiral. “Maybe that’s why Gallon ran off?” 

Kip came back to himself. “That would make sense, we should probably find him.” When no one made any move to act on that, Kip continued. “Well then. Quinn? Are you desperately in love with me?” 

The bard’s question was so blunt Quinn choked on his own breath. 

“What?” He stammered out, his neck grew hot. He winced when he felt Almara’s knowing eyes bore into him. “No! Why would you even ask that?” 

Kip shrugged, “The Heart Trap sounds like a standard love potion. Not the most original of Ti-afren, but they are fun because they’re always messy.” He paused, contemplating. “My feelings for you remain the same.” 

At that moment, Quinn desperately wished Kip had been the one to get the truth serum. Then he could ask what those feelings were. It was impossible to know what the bard really thought. 

“Well then -“ Quinn began but he stopped. 

His skin grew impossibly cold and his lungs were sucked of oxygen. In that moment, regret flooded him. 

Why had he agreed to this stupid game? 

What was happening to him? 

His stomach churned and twisted, like a wild animal trapped in a snare. His vision continually shifted in and out of focus as he stumbled on his footing. Almara grabbed his shoulders to steady him. 

Huh, strange. 

She must have grown taller, because now they were eye to eye. 

A ringing grew in his ears and his brain felt like it was sizzling in a cast iron skillet. He couldn’t focus, he heard a distant voice call out before the world fell away. 

“Quinn?” 

 *** 

“Quinn!” 

He was being shaken, and none too carefully. The owner of the voice was close, face not too far from his own. Quinn was sitting upright, resting against a tree. 

 No. None of the trees in Halambad are this thick. 

The owner of the voice he’d heard returned to both metaphorically and literally shake him out of his thoughts. 

“Wake up, you annoying little - Gallon, please, a little personal space? Ugh, Quinn!” 

Quinn finally had it in him to open his eyes. What he saw made him desperately want to close them again. There, in front of him, was Kip. The half-elf's beautiful, golden face, painted with freckles, was the same size as his own. The bard’s hands cupped either side of Quinn’s face as his cerulean eyes searched him for some sign that he was ok. 

Quinn reached out with his own hand and brought it to rest on Kip’s shoulder. It fit. It wasn’t too big, it didn’t crush him. Quinn didn’t have to think about how much pressure to apply. There was his hand on the shoulder of the bard, his thumb resting perfectly in the curve of his collarbone. 

It took another moment for Quinn to panic. 

“What’s going on?” He asked, heaving through lungs desperate for air. “I don’t understand.” 

“The Downgrade.” Came a voice from above him. 

Quinn’s eyes scanned upwards to find Almara looming above him, a frown plastered on her much larger face. 

Whatever Kip may say after the fact, Quinn definitely didn’t scream. He didn’t. 

He didn’t. 

“Yes,” Kip grumbled once Quinn had recovered. He used gentle hands to move Quinn’s face around, still scanning for damages. Quinn could feel the calluses on the half-elf’s fingertips, caused no doubt from years of fiddle playing and sailing. “Looks like you lucked out. I think you might be alright now. How do you feel?” 

“I don’t know.” Was all he managed to reply. 

 It turned out that Quinn had only been out for about an hour. However, in that time, quite a few things had progressed. 

Oberon was no longer dancing. Apparently his hallucinations had changed and he was going around knighting anything and everything. While he was unconscious, Quinn had been knighted three different times in three different kingdoms. Kip had at least been smart enough to wrestle Oberon’s sword from him as soon as he’d noticed the change. Now, the knightings were all done with the bow of Kip’s fiddle - something the bard was less than thrilled by. 

Gallon had also returned. Instead of running away due to the effects of The Downgrade as they’d all assumed, he’d run off to “collect things” as Kip put it. He’d returned to camp with arms full of fine clothes and jewellery, bottles of expensive wine and perfumes and had placed them lovingly at Kip’s feet. 

“Where’d he-“ 

Kip pinched the bridge of his nose. 

“He stole them from the market.” He turned to the orc, who’d been standing very closely behind Kip throughout the whole conversation. Upon turning, Kip found himself surrounded by a wall of thick, green muscle, eye-level with Gallon’s chest. He paused a moment to appreciate the view before he met the orc’s big doe eyes. “I’m flattered, but you will return it all in the morning. I don’t fancy another trip to the Halambad jail. You aren’t ready for what you’d have to do to get out.” 

“Ok.” Gallon grinned and brought his face down towards Kip’s, but Kip pushed it aside with a frown. 

“Not when you’re like this, Gallon. It’s no fun.” Then he placed his delicate hands on the orc’s chest and gave him an encouraging push. “Go on. Go gather more fire wood, we’ll need it tonight.” 

Without any rebuttal, Gallon was off again into the woods. Gallon, whose main interaction with Kip was calling him stupid or threatening to kill him, put up no fight whatsoever to the order. 

“That was,” Quinn began but didn’t know how to finish. 

He’d been struck silent by how large Gallon was. At 9 feet, the orc had always been bigger than the rest of the party, but never anything remarkable to Quinn. Now, he was a force to be reckoned with - an immovable object. Living rock. He understood now why they all got so tense when he was upset. 

“The Heart Trap.” Kip groaned. 

In the background, Oberon knighted Jade as she sat around the last remnants of the fire. She told him she thought he was being ridiculous and that exiled princes can’t knight anyone. He knighted her again for her frankness. 

As he went through all the potions and the members of their party, Quinn eyed Kip. 

 “You drank the blank.” 

Kip clicked his tongue, “I knew that this would happen. I knew as soon as Jade pushed for it that I’d be the one to drink it. She had some part in it, I swear.” 

“No, I didn’t.” She called. 

“She’s telling the truth.” Almara said from above them. 

“Why does that matter?” Kip scowled. 

At that moment, there was a loud dragging sound coming from the edge of the forest and Gallon emerged, pulling an entire uprooted tree behind him. 

“No, you big dumb orc!” Kip yelled, stomping over to him, much to Gallon’s delight. “That’s not what I meant!” 

By midnight, Kip had had enough. And while it wasn’t in the spirit of the game, he’d asked Almara to put Oberon, Gallon, and Jade to sleep. She did and assured him that she’d keep watch through the night. 

As he lay on Almara’s bedroll, her shadow looming over him in a way that still caused his heart to panic, Quinn looked up at the trees, standing so much higher above him and the stars that felt so much further away. 

His stomach writhed. 

“Relax.” Kip said from behind him. He’d set up his bedroll next to Quinn’s. Quinn still hadn’t gotten used to how close - how real - Kip was to him at this size. It made his heart dance. “Remember, it’s temporary. But if I go mad in the interim, you have my permission to kill everyone when you’re back to being huge and brutish.”

_______________________________________________________________________

(More shenanigans to come! I’m aiming to post part two within the next week. Hope you like it! - ray xx)

[rottmnt-hc]

Might make a small one shot for an idea but might not so if you write it tag me!

Current height (tol to smol): Raph 9ft(not including tail), Donnie 6'5.5, Leo 6'5, Mikey 5'9

While trying to make a Raph sized dirt bike, Donnie's lab exploded with the brothers all in.

They switched sizes for the day, not species just sizes.

Leo ends up Raph sized

Donnie is Leo sized

Mikey is Donnie sized

Raph...Raph has Mikey's size.

Raph is the only one to absolutely love this while Leo hates it the most.

Donnie and Mikey don't mind it but they want their height back.

Raph is doing everything he wants until he's back to normal.

(HC, Raph treats everything like an egg. He assumes anything near him would break.)

He was enjoying his plushies without breaking them when he heard Leo and Donnie complain.

Leo accidentally hurt Donnie and now Donnie is calling him a freak, Leo corrects him saying that Raph is the freak.

The two go into a rant about how he's probably enjoying being normal for once.

They don't notice until Mikey stares wide eyed at him, they try to apologize but Raph just turns and leaves.

After turning back, Leo and Donnie try to make it up to him immediately but he's good at avoiding them.

Soon Donnie replicates the incident while it was just the brothers home, this time Leo is Donnie sized and Mikey is Raph sized.

Mikey doesn't have that much trouble accumulating to the sudden large frame and finds a Mikey sized Raph.

Mikey hugs him, almost immediately he melts.

Leo and Donnie finally gets to apologize but they aren't immediately forgiven.

But Raph doesn't hold grudges.

[kaiju-wolfdragon]

Size swap:

[entomolog-t]

GtWAC Day 17 Poll : Size Swap

Catching up slowly but surely!!!

I'm also curious if anyone would prefer in universe (non-canon) or an AU?

[t3a-tan]

New Perspectives (1/?)

Word Count: 4,915

AO3 | First | Next | Previous

Size-swap au for Oliver and James because unintentional fearplay is beautiful. Let’s be honest the only one learning anything here is James. Comments and reblogs are what keep me writing, so any help with motivation is appreciated ^^

@entomolog-t you asked me to tag you so here--

-----

Oliver wasn't sure how it happened exactly. Everything had been normal up until this point: he had harvested some of his tea leaves in the morning, made another jar of jam at noon, made some cornbread over a fire at night. And when he fell asleep in his cozy cotton stuffed bed he woke up—

Well… Not in his burrow, to say the least.

In fact, he woke up sleeping on the dewy grass— which was remarkably odd considering grass was not something he really could lie on top without laying it flat. Not to mention the grass was tiny; small enough to grab fistfuls of it at a time.

The situation became clearer once he looked up more, and despite the fact that the trees were still larger than him, they weren't complete behemoths as usual. Oliver could even see the entrance to his burrow— which was unharmed thankfully.

He was human-sized. But how?

Oliver prided himself on being extremely knowledgeable about the human way of life in comparison to most borrowers who preferred to stay sheltered, but after becoming closer with James he found that there were plenty of unwritten rules of human life too.

James… I should go see him like this. Maybe he knows something? If not, he could always help me find a solution…

Oliver had no interest in remaining human sized— it was just unnatural and too different from what he was used to. He didn't mind it, but it was more like a day's enjoyment kind of thing rather than life long.

On pure instinct he whistled loudly, before spotting a bird swooping down and landing at his feet. She was unbothered, and Oliver tilted his head, crouching down and lightly scratching at the buzzard's head, as she chirped contentedly in response.

"Apologies for calling you, Gail. I don't think you'll be able to carry me like this.." He remarked softly, enamored by just how small the graceful bird had now become. She squawked out in response, something Oliver liked to think was agreement despite knowing logically that the bird could neither understand him nor respond back to him.

Standing back up, he watched as she flew off again before starting his trek to find James's house, trying his best to recall the route.

Along the way he was enamored seeing how humans were interacting from the same level– but he knew better than to approach strangers like this as that was socially unacceptable. Once he had met up with James then it would be more productive to have that kind of conversation and experience with him rather than making random humans uncomfortable.

It took about twenty minutes to arrive, but knocking received no response. Oliver recalled the time James had mentioned keeping a spare key hidden behind a false brick after forgetting his keys at work for the seventh or eighth time, and so once he figured out which brick in the outer wall was fake he found the keys and unlocked the door, taking a few moments to relish in the new experience.

He made sure to lock the door behind him too before realizing that James wouldn't have a clue who just entered and would probably presume an intruder had just broken in.

"James? It's Oliver. I don't know what happened, I need to talk to you though…. Are you in?" Oliver began to explore the house, trying not to be too intrusive or snoop around too much, but he couldn't help but make mental comparisons between everything at the moment. Humans saw the world in such an odd way…he felt huge. Too big for his liking, but he knew that to a human this would be completely normal instead.

Oliver saw that James must be home, considering all of his shoes were still sitting in the shoe rack, and his wallet and keys were sitting on the shelf near the front door. Humans didn't generally leave without those essentials… So then why wasn't James responding? Was he potentially injured??

At that thought Oliver hurried up the stairs, this time not taking any time to make observations on his surroundings and instead searching specifically for an unconscious human… and he found nothing.

Peculiar. The windows are locked and shut, so where has he gone…? Did someone take him? There's no signs of a struggle, so that can't be it. Oliver was growing admittedly worried about the circumstances here. That was when he saw a shadow in the corner of his eye.

It disappeared quickly, but Oliver's attention had already focused onto it— expecting to see a house spider or something of the sort which he was very interested in inspecting close up now that they were very much harmless… but what he found instead was utterly perplexing.

"James..?"

Oliver dropped down to a crouch, eyebrows raised in surprise and eyes locked onto the shadow on the floor…. Because right there was not a shadow at all: instead he saw his friend, who looked about as pale as a ghost, back pressed into the corner of the room and staring up at Oliver with heaving breaths.

Oliver wasn't sure how it happened exactly, or what he did to inspire such terror in James's eyes, but he quickly set about fixing it.

"James? It's alright, James, just breathe... I'll do it with you, okay? In for four….hold for four….out for four…." He kept his tone low and soft, trying to coax the older man out of his fear-stricken state. Oliver stayed completely still, breathing in time with his instructions until James began following along, gasping slightly as he tried to regain control of his breathing, but soon enough he was taking deep breaths and leaving his fight or flight state.

Oliver waited, staring down at him with a concerned but curious gaze, waiting for James to say something or to explain what had him so frightened in the first place… but instead all he got was silence. Oliver's expression faltered, eyebrows furrowing slightly, leaning down a little closer now only radiating concern over his friend's plight.

"Keep breathing, it's okay… Are you struggling to find words at the moment? Do you need water?" He asked, keeping his voice gentle to avoid causing any other outbursts. He relaxed a bit when James managed to nod, and so Oliver pushed himself up to a stand, still looking down at the now borrower-sized human. "I'll go fetch some— woah… hm."

Oliver went completely still again as he saw the way James had flinched and shielded himself just as Oliver stood up. It took the human-sized borrower a few moments to put it together, but once he did he quickly lowered himself to the ground again.

"James... Do you think I'm going to hurt you..?" He asked, not offended in the slightest but saddened by the idea. Oliver couldn't imagine hurting an innocent person ever… and by the way James was reacting, it was probably more than just 'hurt' he was afraid of.

Instead of receiving a response though James just stayed curled up and trembling, so small and vulnerable. From Oliver's perspective, he was smaller than an ant would usually be from borrower size, which was surreal in and of itself. But he wasn't an oddity to be marveled at…he was a person in need of reassurance.

"I'm sorry if I frightened you. I should have considered my actions with a bit more grace… But there's no need for you to be afraid. I'm your friend, I wouldn't dream of laying a finger on you without your permission, especially not with the intent to harm." He assured softly, keeping his hands to himself as promised.

James held his head in his hands for a few more moments, anxiously dragging his fingers through his hair as he often did when he was stressed about something. Oliver had picked up on it when he would stay at James's house for a prolonged time and end up walking in on phone calls with his ex wife. But it was never this bad…James had always maintained some control of his emotional state. Oliver wasn't used to seeing him this way.

He tilted his head, leaning down a bit more whilst keeping his hands on his knees, non-threateningly.

"I'm not upset at you for your reaction at all. You have experienced quite a dramatic shift, so it's only natural that stress comes along with that. I understand that you are reacting on instinct, not logic, so there is no need to feel anxious that I may feel hurt by your fear." Oliver clarified, rambling as he often did when he wasn't fully certain of the most succinct way to put it; he would rather over-explain than miscommunicate.

James took a few moments before he nodded slowly, though he kept his gaze averted for now. Still, it was progress, so Oliver couldn't help but perk up slightly.

"I imagine it would be quite shocking to go from human height to borrower height, isn't it..?" He lowered his voice to a whisper, trying to coax a verbal answer from the man in order to test the waters. He waited patiently, observing his body language.

"Y-yeah….you can— you can say that again, mate..." James finally managed to stammer out a response, his gaze hesitantly shifting in order to focus on Oliver. Oliver offered a reassuring smile in turn.

James's eyes narrowed slightly, and although he was still quite shaken up he pointed an accusatory finger up at Oliver, causing the enlarged borrower's eyebrows to raise in withdrawn surprise.

"H-how in the hell do you keep it together..? Especially when we first met… I.. I…" He trailed off, expression wracked with guilt of his past callous treatment of Oliver. "...how..?"

Oliver hummed, unsure of how exactly to respond at first. It was a question even he himself didn't really know the answer to. He had always been quite emotionless, even more so when he was younger…and he simply didn't feel fear. Not in the same way— Oliver was extremely logical and curious, so he found that when he saw new things he would always be more fascinated than terrified.

The first time he saw a human he had been only 8 years old, collecting water from the creek, when he saw a gigantic hulking beast approach the water on the other side. He had at first moved to take shelter as he was taught to when facing predators, but stopped when he noticed that the so-called beast was a woman. A woman 30 or so times his size dressed in odd clothing, but a woman nonetheless.

Oliver watched after the woman. Despite being so close and in the open he was unafraid and oh so intrigued— he had never seen someone outside of his family before…not until now. He hadn't realized others were so big, thinking perhaps that she was simply very old and had never stopped growing like his parents had. He wondered if she had just moved nearby…he wondered how big her family's burrow would have to be.

"I'm not sure how. I don't understand the level of fear everyone else experiences because I don't… but I imagine I lack a majority of instincts. Most borrowers I know would likely pass out in the presence of a human… Especially when being handled by one." Oliver responded after some thought before swiftly adding, "and I'm not going to be handling you in such a rough manner, if that's something you're worried about."

"Oliver, I don't— I don't think you'd do that at all…" James was quick to interject, finally looking up and meeting Oliver's green eyes with his own brown ones, but Oliver could see that there was some doubt there. Nothing personal, clearly, but it was still there. He couldn't help his frown.

"I've not been scary a single day in my life, I don't think. It's odd. It's…uncomfortable." Oliver sighed. "Whatever has happened to us, I hope it reverses back soon. As intrigued as I am about viewing things from a human perspective, I would rather not scare you in the process."

He glanced around, and for the first time James saw Oliver genuinely unsure of what to do. Vulnerable, ironically enough, considering he was currently almost 500 times the size of what James was used to seeing him as. James tried his best to take a deep breath and calm his heart again, though he was still weak in the knees from the instinctive fear that came with it.

"We're friends, Oliver. I know you won't do anything to me… I just…my head keeps telling me to run— t-to get away as fast as possible…but my heart knows you are safe… okay? So don't feel bad, mate…" He addressed Oliver directly this time rather than just thinking his paranoid thoughts aloud. Oliver blinked, then stared for a few moments, eyes narrowing in confusion and distaste…his judging face. What had James managed to do wrong now?

"...your heart doesn't know anything, it's an organ responsible for pumping blood around the body…" The borrower murmured, genuinely confused by that description. James couldn't help but facepalm. That was what Oliver was taking away from what he had said? Oh well, it was embarrassing the first time, he's not going to repeat himself again…

"You are a bloody pain in my ass, you know that?" James grumbled in return, as Oliver blinked and now only looked apologetic, leaning in closer.

"Oh, I'm sorry… I didn't think I had touched you before, but I'm sorry if I hurt you." He apologized, concern in his gaze. James was tempted to square him in the nose— but he also knew that Oliver wasn't ridiculing him whatsoever, and simply didn't understand a lot of the idioms that humans used all the time.

"That's it. You've officially killed me." James sighed in exasperation, dragging a hand down his face. Despite his fed-up expression though, he saw it as endearing because Oliver was so genuine and so…him, 100% all the time. The smile appeared on his face and he couldn't help it. The absurdity of this situation was starting to make him crack.

Oliver's brows pinched together, with one subtly raised.

"Well now I know that's just spurious." He kept still, only slightly cocking his head as his observative gaze bored down upon James. The officer wouldn't even bother asking what the hell 'spurious' meant. "Does your joking mean you're more comfortable now? Because I suggest a lift off of the floor may help things look a bit less daunting from your perspective."

James hesitated, glancing towards Oliver's hands and shrinking back against the wall. The idea of fingers larger than his entire body reaching for him like the mouth of some beast was terrifying…but then he looked at Oliver's face, reminding himself of who those hands were attached to.

Since they had met, Oliver had been patient and gentle. He had taught James just as much as James had taught him back— and they were friends. Officially.

Just as he would never hurt Oliver even when it would have been so easy to do so, he knew Oliver was the same. If anything, the safest place for him to be at all at this size was probably in Oliver's hands. So despite his instincts screaming no, James nodded yes.

Oliver's expression softened again, moving slowly as he reached his hand forward, lowering it onto the floor in front of James so he could climb on by himself. He was quiet, allowing James to think, and giving him time to back out again if he wanted to— a yes could be withdrawn at any time, after all.

Eventually though, James stepped away from the wall and slowly climbed into Oliver's open palm. He marveled at the feeling. Oliver had very rough and worn skin— he worked with his hands quite often obviously, but they weren't uncomfortable by any means either. Not to mention that they were warm…

James looked down at his own minuscule hand as he brushed it over the creases of Oliver's palm, mouth agape. It was like he was standing on top of an alien— the floor beneath him pulsating with the calm beating of the now-giant borrower's heart. He couldn't imagine this being normal for anyone… He wondered how Oliver was able to be so casual around him.

Oliver was slow and careful with his movements as he stood up, keeping his hand stable and moving at such a pace that it wouldn't disturb James too much. Once he had stood up he turned and began to very gently make his way down the stairs, before entering the kitchen. He hummed, recalling how exactly James made his coffee and getting out the doll mug that the officer had bought a while back to make drinking easier for Oliver.

He lowered his hand again, but kept it still as he got to work on making the coffee, allowing James to stay on his hand since it was clear that the human was intrigued by it. Oliver had to admit that he was quite interested in how it felt to hold someone so tiny too, though he never moved his fingers to close in on James. He wouldn't do anything more without explicit permission, regardless of his curiosity.

Eventually the coffee was done, and Oliver very carefully managed to tip just a few drops into the tiny mug.

"Drink your coffee. I'll make some crumpets for us to eat…" He spoke, prompting James to finally give Oliver his hand back as he stepped off. Oliver smiled again, seeing that his friend was a bit embarrassed by his fascination— he didn't mind in the slightest. The enjoyment of discovery should be encouraged, not mocked.

Oliver got out two crumpets and placed them in the toaster before getting the butter from the fridge and setting it out to allow it to soften. He then got out a plate, now just waiting for the crumpets to toast.

With that sorted he looked down at James again, inspecting him lightly as the man dipped at his coffee, in a much more relaxed state than he had been before. Oliver was relieved. He hadn't meant to cause any emotional distress in the first place, and he was thankful that James was no longer suffering from such paralyzing fear in his presence. Friends should not have to fear friends.

"Did I make it how you usually do? I've not made coffee before, I'm afraid." Oliver asked, his tone still soft and non-threatening even though James had already calmed down. The shrunken human hummed in acknowledgement of his question, taking another sip before answering.

"It's actually alright, believe it or not. I'm surprised you managed it, if it's your first time. Good on you." The man responded, managing a smile up in Oliver's direction. He had a very different way of smiling than Oliver: whereas the borrower's smile was gentle and calm, his was much more light and playful. Their distinct personalities on display.

Oliver slowly leaned down, resting his elbow on the countertop and then his cheek in his hand as he gazed down at the human. He inspected the man for a few moments, before looking elsewhere.

"I'd like to go to a library. Perhaps I can find some new books to record." Voice contemplative, he hummed to himself as if considering the idea.

Oliver wanted to go to a library, but he couldn't exactly leave James here to fend for himself as the human didn't have the necessary skills or tools to get around by himself. He could bring James along, but it may be overwhelming for the man to be in an area with other comparatively giant people…not to mention he'd have to remain hidden the entire time, and Oliver had learned that James got bored quite easily.

James's nose wrinkled in distaste at the idea.

"Didn't you say you grew up in a library? Why do you need to record so many books, anyway? Is that your idea of fun..?" He wasn't necessarily judging, but he never understood why Oliver was so determined and able to focus on such tedious things like copying down books, or making maps. It was admirable, definitely, but also extremely boring-sounding.

"I may have grown up in a library, but I didn't have the necessary supplies to write down what I read, nor did I have many opportunities to read as it was usually quite dark when the opportunity did arise." Oliver began, not taking any offense and instead over-explaining his answers, not recognizing that James meant it all as more rhetorical.

"Borrowers do not have books, and many borrowers are not able to read either. If there were more books accessible to our kind, that could change…and there would be much more information available as a whole about our world, since very few borrowers can go out and explore it for themselves. Currently my library is in development, but I hope that when my colony is established it will be in full use by borrowers living in it." Oliver continued.

"And yes. It is enjoyable to me. I get to learn, and I know that what I record will become valuable to others of my kind later on." He finished, before raising an eyebrow at James. "You humans may see that as odd, but there was a time in your history where things were very much the same for your kind. Now you're more focused on getting an education and getting a good job— borrowers haven't even reached the education stage yet."

James could tell thanks to many experiences of Oliver lecturing him about the differences between their kinds that the borrower wasn't putting him down for not understanding. He'd be a good teacher, James couldn't help but think… The way Oliver had mastered explaining things without making the other person feel stupid or put on the spot was impressive, to say the least.

"What's stopping you then?" James asked, taking another sip of his coffee. Oliver watched him silently for a few moments before releasing a sigh that rustled through the shrunken human's hair.

"I don't want to risk overwhelming you in such an environment. And I don't want to leave you on your own in this state either. You do not have any of the skills necessary for survival as a borrower, and I'd rather not risk your safety to satiate my own curiosity." He explained, trying his best to let James down gently. He didn't mean to call the human effectively useless at this height…but he kind of was. It didn't change how Oliver saw James, but it changed the way Oliver considered the human's new needs.

Before, James didn't need Oliver's help at all other than emotionally, but now he was practically dependent on physical aid. Oliver didn't mind in the slightest, but he had come to learn that James was quite a prideful person— not to a fault, but enough that he was understandably frustrated by his lack of autonomy. Oliver would try his best to keep his actions in consideration of that: he felt fine regardless, but James would probably appreciate having control as much as possible right now.

The crumpets were finally done so Oliver began to spread them.

"What? It can't be that hard, mate. I see you do it all the time." James remarked with a frown. He probably didn't think much of Oliver's feats because to borrowers they weren't feats at all, but at a human scale borrowers were definitely performing incredible feats of strength, agility, and coordination on a regular basis. It was understandable that James couldn't see it like that because the scale was so different. In this case, experiencing the difficulty himself would be the only way he'd understand what Oliver meant.

Oliver hummed, finishing spreading the crumpets before setting the butter knife down and pointing over the edge of the counter 

"Try climbing down the counter. Borrowers are capable of climbing up and down this height without tools by the age of about 11." He instructed, not directly communicating that James could choose to or not because he believed it was for the best that James should make the attempt. Still though, if James chose not to, Oliver wouldn't force or pressure him into it at all.

James walked over to the edge, not thinking much of the idea until he realized just how massive of a drop it was. He couldn't believe that Oliver did this so often… he made it look so easy. But James wanted to try anyway, if only to prove himself as capable— he didn't want to be a burden to Oliver by proxy of being this height.

"Just watch me." He snarked, before turning and dangling himself off of the edge, trying his best to keep his trembling contained as the effort it took even to do just that was causing his muscles to ache. Oliver raised an eyebrow, keeping an eye on James for any signs of him losing his grip or slipping so he would be able to catch him in time. It was inevitable. If the man was already shaking at the top, he wouldn't make it down before his muscles were completely worn out.

"Don't injure yourself by pushing too much." Oliver reminded gently, not realizing that those words only had the opposite effect. James was more determined than ever to make it all the way down no matter what, and so he began the climb.

Embarrassingly, he only made it a few inches before losing his grip and falling— promptly getting caught into Oliver's hand and lifted back up to the top of the counter. Oliver wasn't smug about this fact at all. He didn't like seeing his friend's hurt pride, but he didn't want him to overestimate his abilities and injure himself as a result.

James groaned, holding his arm and gritting his teeth in pain from the ache in his sore muscles. He definitely pushed too hard… which was even more upsetting knowing that he hadn't even made it a quarter of the way down. Oliver's expression became concerned, bringing his hand up closer to his face and inspecting the human closely to make sure he hadn't seriously injured himself.

"Are you alright..? Do you want some ice? Perhaps I could run you a bath..?" Oliver spoke, not fretting so much as simply offering assistance. James shook his head, slightly flustered at how poorly his attempt had gone.

"Jesus, Oliver… I can't believe you do that all the time. You said 11 year olds can do that??" James brushed past Oliver's concern for the moment. Oliver always fell for trying to answer every question and further explain certain topics.

"Well, although there are currently no scientific studies I'm aware of on the matter, it is not a stretch to conclude that we have slightly different biology. Borrowers have greater stamina than humans, a lower metabolic rate, and I presume that our muscles are more focused on climbing and carrying. Of course though, this could be a byproduct of our environment rather than a significant biological difference… either way, to borrowers, this is very normal, but to humans at our scale it's practically impossible." He rambled.

James listened with interest, but was more so relieved that Oliver was no longer fretting over him. Oliver moved the plate of crumpets to be in between him and James before starting to eat the breakfast. He made sure to chew and swallow, incredibly intrigued by how different the textures of the food felt at this size, before talking again.

"Anyway, as I stated before, you don't have the necessary skills for survival as a borrower, so I would rather not leave you vulnerable. I don't think you're incapable of taking care of yourself…but the world is very large. Even trained borrowers get caught up in it. As you know…"

James knew that Oliver was referring to his own family, and he winced as he remembered the amount of loss that his friend had endured. He forgot, sometimes, because Oliver rarely ever mentioned his family or dwelled on his emotions… but it was a stark reminder. As much as James didn't like having to depend on others, he recognized that Oliver only wanted to prevent him from having a similar fate.

"Okay, I get it. It's fine, we'll…figure something out." He relented, deciding to forgo some of his autonomy for the sake of alleviating Oliver's concerns. He knew that the man wouldn't take advantage of that.

In all of the time that James had known him, which to be fair it wasn't that long, Oliver was always respectful, polite, compassionate, and receptive. He may take things too literally at times, and he may ramble on and on about things that James couldn't even begin to understand— but he was a good friend. James trusted him a lot…even more so now: when it became clear that Oliver didn't just tolerate him and wasn't only polite because of the height difference.

This situation was freaky as all hell, but it confirmed that Oliver was a genuinely good and trustworthy man. James was thankful to be friends with someone like that…

Suddenly, James's phone could be heard ringing upstairs.

[reborrowing]

happy hug a tiny day, all!

[sunflowers-and-wheat]

Some WIPs of a friend and I’d ship! Mermaid AU cause I can’t get enough of it.

A lion fish and an eel fall in love—

[kulaykonfetti]

BIGGER PROBLEMS: ODE TO YOUR FAT VENTS AND LOVE

plus size art series for all the fat girlies out there ❤️‍🔥

[b0tster]

how do i choose 😳