//------------------------------// // III - Found by the Sun // Story: A Pinch of Vanilla // by B_25 //------------------------------// ~ Part III ~ Found by the Sun The following hours had been painful, exhausting and leaving him dreading, of course, for when the warmth and brightness of the sun had begun to dim. It took an hour to swim across the sea to the distant shore of towering grass.  The giants filling the footprint with water had, in a twisted sense of good luck, made it possible for him to escape it. The tiny boy fought the idea of what if. Stranded in that print, the towering walls too high for him to escape. Trapped. Without food or water or... But the rest of the day had been spent walking through the forest of grass, enduring the tremors quaking through the ground at his feet. Around him, giants walked. High above and vast in size. Going about their life, entirely unaware of how their stomps affecting the tiny boy in the grass just to their right.  And when Vanilla finally did emerge from the plane of staggering greens, where spades shaded him from the sun and dirt crusted before his feet, a heavy beam of dim sunlight caused him to shield his eyes. The taste of air changed to freshness. The ground calmed.  But only for a second.   THUM! THUM! THUM! “W-Whoa!” Vanilla twirled his arms upon being knocked onto one foot, stumbling in place and fighting to regain his bearings. A thick shadow passed over him and, upon gazing up, the sprawling length of underneath a boot flew over his head. “O-Oh no.” CRASH! Vanilla watched the foot crash in front of him, the land of grey pavement used to occupy a single foot. Longer and wider than a stadium, another crashed next to it. Beyond it, a great block of immense size loomed. Its design struck familiar at once.   That's... the statute at the front of the school. Vanilla's heart stabbed when those boots turned around, their fronts facing him like a predator catching sight of its prey. Only the rising pillars of legs covered by acres of pants then buckled, those boots sliding forward, like two massive trains blasting toward him—thankfully, though with feet to spare on either side. And this has to be... The massive frame of the girl collided against the ground in a thunderous thud that quaked the world, tossing up the miniature boy as winds pushed him back. His side hit and rolled against the ground, the ground cool due to the shadow covering it, newly erected walls trapping the poor boy once more.   Vanilla coughed as he lifted his head. Resting his forearm against the ground, he pushed himself up from it and gazed across the created valley between the two legs. Cylinders of cloth rising high and sprawling outward at either direction. Though, in looking forward, he saw the mass of the girl.   The giant that was Sunset Shimmer.   Tiny. Minuscule. Nothing. These feelings coursed through him while the giant girl reclined like a falling tower against the statue. Her butt smacked against the ground, tons and tons of softness crashing and mashing against the pavement. The curve of her pants felt smooth to the eyes, accentuating what those wonderful jeans contained within them.  Of course, his thoughts didn't surge there. Oh no. The tiny boy rose on aching legs, starting his stumble forward, tired and exhausted, struck and stuck into another situation with a giant. As he walked between her legs—both arched in the air the closer he approached her base—Vanilla could feel his final hope burning dim.   Even when he reached directly underneath the girl it was of no use. Above, her journey laid against her raised thighs as she used them as support to write. Her giant eyes had to glance once over the pages to the minuscule body standing between her legs. But he as he stood there, waiting, the only sounds were of loud scratchings of her pen.   Vanilla cast his eyes to the ground before squeezing them tightly. Why should this interaction have been any different when all the rest already spoke of his fate? Tears escaped through his clenched lids, dripping onto the pavement. They made a mark, sure, but ones so small that only he could see them.   He stepped forward. Then again. Once then twice. Then keeping his movement alive. Staying there wouldn't net him her attention. Now that her body pressed against the ground, a part of her Vanilla could actually reach, then maybe... maybe if he touched her, Sunset would feel it. But it... didn't seem to matter. The curved plane that was the back of her pants rose over his head as Vanilla became utterly and truly dwarfed in the shadow of her butt. Her cheeks, clad in blue denim, rolled over him. Vanilla... relished in the moment. It'd been the first real moment of peace where he felt protected from underneath the bottom of the women. On either side, the never-ending length of the world stretched on into countless vistas that blurred together into the sizes of majestic hazes that struck fear into his tiny beating heart. But here? Sunset's bottom covered his sky, saved him from harm, and the heat of her body hugged him. The mass of her ass laid softly on his eyes, those tons of soft fat contained within those plush jeans. Relaxing. He nearly laid down on the spot, to enjoy the sight and the warmth, to allow his body... to finally be free of its burden.   Now, however, wasn't the time. Not when her cheeks could roll over him without notice, or Sunset could stand and leave, and that would be that. Even though he was safe, Vanilla was only safe for so long. He needed to get this giant's attention. Or else, life would be eternal detention.   But even as he came to the curved wall as blue, where the softness of her tush rolled against the pavement of the ground, Vanilla's itty-bitty fists were nothing in comparison to the thickness of her jeans. First, his hand laid against the material as its stretchy softness was also pulled taut by her bottom. Even pressing his hands into the fabric, all it did was sink from his touch, not at all enough to make contact with that which laid on the other side.   “Please! You're so close.” Vanilla curled his hands into a fist, beating on the materiel, each strike sinking inward, never nearing the place he needed to touch. It felt so nice against his hands. High above him, a pocket loomed, one too far for him to climb inside. “Why can't you feel me? Am I really so tiny you can't even feel me when I'm hitting my hardest!” Anger. Hatred at his fate and sadness at his history. Here was a cheek of a women's bum that sprawled before him, so plush and on the ground and, even throwing his whole body against it, striking his fists harder and harder—all so the material could wobble it away, so it could sink and then push his momentum out.   His hardest punch, the one draining his willpower away, struck through the fabric to the skin beneath, wobbling it in a way beyond minuscule even to him. Tears burned down his cheek hotter than the aching of his muscles. The most burned out of all, however, was his soul, now thoroughly burned out.   And that was it. Stumbling back from underneath the arching blue tush, Vanilla knew that after his greatest effort, that hope was not possible. Distant scratching against paper kept consistent throughout his battle with a women's butt. And even she, in such a place being attacked, had failed to notice his existence.   Was this how it was going to be? The rest of his life tiny and small, skirting on the edge of a giant's world, barely living and every effort expended to survive? Teased endlessly of being saved only to either be tortured to abandon? None willing to care for him. Size matters, and very few care for the bugs on a sidewalk.   Vanilla walked out from underneath the dome of Sunset's bottom. Harsh sunlight burned his eyes as he stepped into the world of light. With his shoulders slumped, he continued to walk, sniffling with his tears, fruitfully wiping his face with his dirtied forearm.   “Hmm? Oh, ew, a bug.” Vanilla's feet froze against the ground seconds before the world dimmed once more. His heart stopped, and his body gave up, gazing up from over his shoulder to the horrifying sight... approaching. “So close underneath me. Ugh! Gross.” Vanilla didn't fight. He didn't cry. All he did was fall onto his own behind and let out a little whine. Five sunny fingers phased over his head as the big world suddenly became tight underneath Sunset's hand. The wrinkles of her palm passed over his head. It became warm for a moment, though the softness of her hand was dangerous to the eye.   Memories. Sweet memories coursed through the boy's mind while he exhaled a shallow breath. Hiccups followed as the palm descended. It made a sound colossal and unlike anything he'd heard before. Rather, Vanilla tucked his legs against his chest, rocking himself, remembering the normal life he once lived.   Sunset Shimmer had felt a tickle on her bottom, one she wasn't sure was real or a phantom, minuscule enough to forgo a searching finger. But when the bug had crept out from under her, however, appearing in the corner of her gaze—it was then the feelings of nasty shivered beneath her skin.   She turned to the speck of white on the pavement, pushing her hand toward and over it, then lowering her palm against it. Something, however, stopped her. The most subtle force pressing against her hand. Not actual contact. Nor that phantom tickle. Something different, something invisible, something magic There's something different about this bug. Sunset had pressed her palm against the ground, feeling her skin roll onto the pavement. The little thing welled against it, holding up its immense weight. A pleasurable pebble the tiniest pressure would crush. Or... is it not even a bug at all? Then she saw it. The glowing of her hand surging over the pebble of a... person? No no. That couldn't be right! Sunset nearly gasped as her own eyes went blind to the world. Their mighty size saw, instead, the memories of the little one.   The memories he had, the views he saw; the horrors endured, the isolation survived, the experiences, Vanilla believed, he alone would ever have. Sunset watched the kind short boy with hair nearly of gold. Bright eyes, eager and nice, always set on the girls from afar.   You poor... poor, poor boy. Sunset watched the boy always trying to near the girls, all the time during tests when he would tilt his page to a worried Rainbow Dash. Or change for the bus Pinkie Pie had come short on. Always there to help, but always doing so in the background. But then. How did you get so small? Sunset wished she hadn't asked.   Vanilla had sneaked into the laboratory after hearing of a tired Twilight Sparkle dreading to clean it up the next day. Deciding, always, to be of some help he entered and cleaned early in the morning. Though upon wiping down a ray and clicking one of the buttons through the cloth... P-Please... no more... I'm not sure... Much like how Vanilla had no choice but to experience the trials of the day, so too was true for Sunset Shimmer as the isolated memories continued to play. Her heart tore and her eyes cried at every little turbulence the little body survived.   Giants of pink and purple, dancing and sweeping about, a giant bin of dust. Or a footprint, carved larger than a stadium, an ocean poured into it, over him, by the one he loved most of all.   Or the giant, the one sitting, so easily able to notice him unable to feel his greatest effort. Nearly crushed. And still nearly crushed.   Vanilla questioned how and why he still remained alive, even when the shadows pulled away and the sun shone over him—an intense flash of light and warmth hugging him differently than it had before. Some presence was over him now, attention beyond immense, an act now unexpected.   “You poor little thing!” The plush plane of her yellow palm floated into the air, the long fingers spreading apart and, through their gap, they exposed the blurry face of the giant in the distance. Her smile broke through the haze. “C'mon. Let's get you up from there. I promise not to hurt you.” Those sprawling orange fingers crashed against the pavement, kicking up clouds of dust, rocking the ground. Even standing between them was rather too tight for the tiny boy as he quivered in place. But this was his only chance of being saved. So he began forward. It'd been hard. Reaching the skin between the giant fingers. The flab of skin, despite being thin, was still a platform until itself. It took a lot of grabbing and holding, pulling and groaning, to lift himself from the ground and onto the hand almost like some sort of ladybug. All while the giant above watched with suppressed amusement.   “S-Sorry.” Vanilla yelped as something poked into his underside. He gazed down his back to see a plush, rough, golden fingertip collect his feet and slowly raise him. His shoes sunk into the skin, which welled up around his impressions. “Let's get you up here, okay?” Whoa whoa whoa! Vanilla cried in his mind as the sunny hill rose over the palm like a roller coaster slowly reaching its peak before the drop. Dropping to his knees, he gripped the squishy skin into his own hands as the finger dropped. Nnngh! M-My stomach! Luckily the ride ended quickly and shortly.   The finger wiped him against the palm, which would have been painful or hurtful had the two not been of the softest, squishy hills of skin. The tiny boy laid forward on the ground, a wave of warmth calming his soul. With the last of his strength, he sat up, crossing his legs. And the sight terrified him.   The palm sprawled on like a stadium, the squishy and golden skin rising then dipping, like lands of actual land. Only this was a part of a woman. The ground lived. Blood and warmth coursed below. And it was attached to something larger, something greater, something... giant.   Vanilla yelped. Around him, the pillars of fingers curled inward, their width tightening closer together. The gap between them, which allowed him to see to the outside world, closed in by the wall of curled fingers. Their tips arched and aimed at him. Nails, clean but long enough for him to get lost underneath. “Let's get you in close, shall we?” Vanilla could barely see over the edge of the palm, watching the pavement slowly blur away while he was being lifted up. Harsh winds beat against him as his belly struggled to keep the rest of him sitting up. “Hehehe. You're... rather cute at this size, Vanilla.” Vanilla, however, once more grabbed the surface of the skin and held tightly. Some of it squished through the gaps of his own fingers, but he held on nonetheless, needing support as the winds slowed and his saviour approached.   W-Woah. “Aren't you cute!” Sunset's monolithic faced opened before the end of the palm, the width of her face the only object beyond the palm. The mass of her hair fell like a swirling waterfall as her eyes glowed a dim green. “I.. I looked through your memories and... and I'm so sorry for everything you endured!” A-Ack! Vanilla, golden hair flew back from the pressure of wind flowing from the girl's voice. In her excitement, the power of her lung roared her voice into a pitch too loud for tiny ears to ever comprehend. The winds brought on her exhales, blowing through those great lips, nearly shot the poor boy into the air. “Oops! S-Sorry.” Sunset's face grew larger as it flew closer, the boy craning his head back to gaze up into the pools of her eyes. Her next words, now, were whispered, attacking him only with the breeze that accompanied her voice. “Little too happy to see you, huh?” Tears burned in the corner of his eyes. Vanilla let them flow freely, rubbing his palm against either eye. At last, his dread was dead. Even though he sat in a stadium of skin, vistas from the ground, in the palm of a giant... Vanilla was finally safe.   “I feel like I should be the one saying that.” Vanilla laughed and, in the distance, the massive face contorted in happiness as well. Every rise of mass, every tensing muscle—what was once minuscule, now on display on a movie screen for the tiny boy. “T-Thank you for finally seeing me, Sunset. I... I didn't know how much longer I could have kept all of this up.” “Now don't you go off saying stuff like that.” Sunset rose from where she sat, covering her palm with another hand and creating a make-shift dome of skin. Harsh winds assaulted the fingers, each slightly above the other like some sort of roof. “You made it this far despite everything that happened. That will wouldn't have let you give up so easily. Not that you don't need it anymore—because now that you have me!” Gravity shifted to the steps of the giant girl, left and then right, a pull and a push. Vanilla held the ground tighter as the shock waves from each of the steps quaked slightly through the palm he sat upon. It tickled his bottom, jolting him somewhat like a rocky car ride. “But... heheh... not only do you have me now...” And so the giant and the tiny continued on, together, talking and laughing despite their difference in size, the lost boy finally saved. The warmth of the dome made of hands and fingers slowly baked life back into his boy, the opening beneath the covering revealing the blurry and distant and gigantic world.   Which, the little Vanilla, no longer had to take on alone.