#i am just a tiny toothpick-legged creature

[gizmocrate-werecrow]

what to do when you are a leafling: mouldy bread

(warning for violence agisnt breadbugs)

The little Breadbug squeaked and ran behind the group, they shook and squeaked as the giant breadbug approached. Sherry tilted her head in recognition and floated up to the mushroom. She floated back down.

“I saw that in the plunder palace, it's a harmless breadbug but it’s infected with a mushroom.” Sherry said. She then floated towards Yonny.

“Yonny–” she started to say before she was cut off.

“One moment Sherry, Pom’s in the middle of a fight.” Yonny said. He took a deep breath and looked behind himself. Yonny’s eyes lit up in excitement at the sight of the shambling giant.

“Hehehe, seems that it’s not just the luminknolls that’s getting a visit tonight. Pom nearly killed all of the monsters there so make sure there's a camp to come back to assistent.” Yonny chuckled to himself before turning back to the comms.

Teleporting back to the giant Breadbug, Sherry floated down to the group once more as the Breadbug giant waddled ever closer. Oleander was hiding behind the small breadbug, shaking and sputtering tiny bits of poison. Dingo however could feel a semblance of a plan form in his mind.

“Jack, who is this tiny Pikmin?” Dingo said.

“That’s Oleander! A white Pikmin, they’re poisonous and can withstand poison and can spit acid!”

Acid, that could help slow the creature down. Dingo thought, he looked at Oleander and then at Sherry and Jack. He took off his headband, letting his leaves droop a little. 

“Sherry, you teleport up there with Jack with some distance. Jack, lay this down in case all of it is poisonous, Olender–” “Oleander!” “Oleander, are you fast? If so, I want you to stop that monster’s approach.” Dingo smiled, pointing towards the Giant breadbug.

Oleander nodded and ran at a speed that Dingo hadn't seen any other Pikmin do. Oleander slipped under the Giant Breadbug, spraying strong acid around the area where Oleander could guess it would step next. Acid ate through the earth with such ease that it was almost scary. The Breadbug took its step and fell into the hole. It screamed as flecks of acid began to eat through its legs.

“NOW!”

Sherry grabbed Jack and appeared above the breadbug, jack tossed down the headband and motioned to Sherry to drop them there.

Jack fell, toothpick at the ready. Jack dug the toothpick into the giant moldy breadbug. It screamed and twitched, trying to buck Jack off of it. The sword glowed as the mushroom turned green. It grew bigger as the moldy breadbug crumpled to the ground from the weight. Jack jumped off, taking the sword with them.

The mushroom began to wither away, leaving the giant breadbug’s lifeless body behind and a sobbing breadbug in the slowly rising sun.

(I’m sorry I really am for that breadbug death)

[atissi]

birdsona time ft. a super cute commission by @grimsnark!!!!!! it’s a red-crowned crane with an alternative colour palette given the daily look

[m4st4rd]

the sugar bowl

author’s note: hello friends! the wonderful @guaxinimraccoon has let me use their equally wonderful characters, Brad, Toby, and Siri, to write a fic! please go check them out-- their art is super awesome. i ended up writing a lot more than i expected, but i still love it! this was super fun to make and i’m excited to see what you guys think :). enjoy!

warnings: mild panic & mild swearing but that’s about it

word count: 2.4k

part one | part two 

 “TOBY? ARE YOU READY?”

   After a fitful sleep, Tobias could barely stand to listen to the noise around him. It wasn’t much: the water rushing through the pipes, the skitter of the mice outside his home in the walls. And now, Siri tugging on his leg as he struggled to relax on his hacky-sack chair. 

   “C’mon, man,” she said, huffing a laugh. “You promised you’d grab some more paper and bread like, yesterday. And that you would get sugar.” Toby didn’t know why she even had the time to pick up a hobby as boring as drawing. There wasn’t much to draw in their little home. He’d rather just try and continue his eventful dream instead of getting dressed just for some scraps.

   But he had to. It was his duty as a borrower and as Siri’s best friend. 

   “Alright, alright.” He got to his feet and ran his hand through his sleep-tousled hair. “But this means you’re making dinner tonight, right?” Before she could protest, he added, “Better start cooking that soup now.”

   Siri put on a pouty glare, but her pointed ears twitched with amusement. “Yeah. Whatever,” she mumbled. But she couldn’t keep her face up long. Soon, it disappeared into a grin. He wasn’t prepared when she threw her arms around his neck in an excited hug. “You’re the best, Toby.”

   Tobias couldn’t stop himself from smiling, too. “Yeah. I know.”

   She waved as he disappeared down the corridor. Neither of them could’ve known what was waiting for him.

***

   Ever since Brad moved out of his parents’ place, he knew only one thing: solitary. Not that he necessarily minded — he wasn’t the most extroverted person. Even in college, he would stay in his dorm with a pizza and Netflix while his roommate hit frat parties. In the two years they lived together, they must’ve only spoken a total of eleven words to each other. 

   But what he did mind was the endless, repetitive schedule. Wake up, check his phone. Have breakfast, take a shower, brush his teeth, pop an aspirin for his morning headache. Head to work and return to boxed mac-n-cheese dinner (or, if he was feeling adventurous, spaghetti). He wanted something exciting, even if excitement, for him, meant taking a different route to work. But he was too afraid of change.

   What he found on Saturday evening really threw a wrench into the gears of his brain.

   He got home to an empty apartment. Nothing special: a hand-me-down couch next in front of a 90s TV. He contemplated just napping on the couch for a bit before dinner, but he never did that. So instead, Brad took off his shoes, hung up his coat, and headed to the kitchen. There was some leftover tuna salad that he could munch on if he didn’t feel like cooking.

   Nothing special. 

   That is, until he stood up. 

   He probably wouldn’t have heard it if he was distracted, but it was real and oh-so-soft. A rustle from deep inside his cabinet. Brad could feel his heart stop. Did he have mice? No, that couldn’t be. He cleaned out his cupboard pretty frequently. Bugs? That would be even worse. 

   Shff. There it was again. It sounded too… heavy to be a roach. Whatever the little thing was, it rattled his cereal boxes. And then, the telltale clatter of the sugar bowl top falling onto the shelf. 

   Wait, what? Okay. That was weird. Brad took a deep breath. His interest had piqued. He had to see what this thing was.

   With a silent prayer, he opened the cabinet. 

***

   Paper? Check. Bread? Check. Toby was still dusting his knees off as he remembered that he was still missing something: sugar. With a groan, he got to his feet and shuffled over to his hook. “Damn Siri and her sweet tooth,” he muttered (though he’d never admit to her that he enjoyed something sweet every now and then).

   He didn’t notice the front door open and the giant enter. He was distracted by the looming jar in front of him. It was difficult getting the lid off, but with a sharp tug and a grunt, it fell to the floor of the cabinet and he prepared to dive in to get a cube. 

   But before he could get very far, the cabinet door swung open, and light invaded. 

   And Toby was face-to-face with the human of the apartment.

   Brad wasn’t sure what he was looking at. A little man…? A four-inch-tall person, not much bigger than his finger, was standing by his sugar bowl. Pointed ears, wild, electric blue hair, and even wilder eyes stared him down. A patchy bag sat at his feet, and patchy clothing hung off of his thin frame. Was he drunk? High? Did someone roofie his coffee?

   Whatever composure Brad had left him. “Wow,” he whispered. Just a breath seemed like enough to knock the little guy over. “Hey, there, du—”

   Toby didn’t hesitate to whip his needle out. “Back!” he tried to snap, though it was more like a squeak. God, he must’ve looked pathetic. His legs were jelly. Every bit of him trembled. “St-stay back!”

   The giant blinked. He shook his head of shaggy black hair, rubbed his eyes with unfathomably huge fists. Toby did his best to suppress a lame whimper when those hands appeared. “So I’m not dreaming,” he said, more to himself than to Toby. It took every ounce of courage not to cry. 

   The bean, however, seemed to notice his fear. “Wait, little dude, hey…” He eyed the needle warily. “You don’t hafta be afraid.” Toby didn’t believe him for a second. 

   The borrower looked suspicious. “Back up,” the little guy growled, and surprisingly, Brad obliged. He took a step away so he didn’t tower over him (and so he didn’t suffer the wrath of his needle). 

   How did Brad look right now? He wasn’t the biggest person around, but he certainly wasn’t the smallest in his family. Even so, he wouldn’t hurt a fly. He couldn’t even bring himself to squish spiders. He’d always trap them in a cup and usher them onto the balcony. This little person, though, didn’t know that. He held his needle-sword up high, his toothpick arms shaking all the while. It practically broke Brad’s heart.

   What’s this guy doing? Toby thought. Nothing was stopping him from snatching him up in a fist and stuffing him in a jar or a shoebox. Was he luring him into a false sense of safety just so his experiments would hurt more? Was he p—

   “Hey, man, you okay?” The bean’s thick brows were knit together with concern. “You’re looking a little pale.”

   “Wouldn’t y-you be?” Toby scoffed before he could stop himself. Man, I’m so dead. “I-I-I mean, someone as big as you is a little Goddamn terrifying! God knows what the hell you’re gonna do to me! ” He snapped his mouth shut. He’s gonna fucking kill me for real now. 

   “What I’m gonna d— No, buddy, I swear I’m n—”

   “Stay. Back.” Holy fuck, what am I doing?! Toby thought. The most he could do was poke the bean’s finger with his needle, but that would only make him angry. He contemplated running, but his thought dissipated when he realized the giant would have plenty of time to stop him.

   Brad’s jaw went slack. For such a little guy, he sure was brave. But after a beat, his words finally sunk in. “Wait. C’mon, man. I’m not— I’m not gonna do anything to you. I’m just. I’m just surprised. I mean, it’s not every day you find a little man in your cabinet.” With a chuckle, he asked, “So are you gonna start paying me rent, or what?” It didn’t immediately dawn on him that this tiny person probably didn’t know what rent even was.

   Toby frowned. What the hell is this guy talking about? More to the point, what game is he playing? 

   With a frown, Brad took another small step back so he didn’t smother the little guy and held up his palms. “Okay, okay, look. I promise I’m not gonna hurt you. Cool?” He didn’t respond, but his shaking arm did lower the needle a bit. That’s a start. 

   Brad heaved a sigh that ruffled Toby’s wild hair. “Right. Uhm. I’m… I’m sorry for scaring you, dude. I didn’t mean it. I swear.” He fiddled with his thumbs. A shy look crept over his face. “I think we got off on the wrong foot. I’m Brad. What’s your name?”

   For a moment, Brad was afraid that the guy was too terrified to answer. But then came the timid voice, so quiet compared to the man’s earlier jab. “Toby.” 

   Just play it cool, Toby thought. Do what he wants and maybe he’ll let you live.

   “Toby. That’s a cool name.” A set of teeth that could snap Toby in half without a second thought were bared at him in a wide smile. Toby could barely hold his ground without flinching. “Wait… You were here for food, right?” 

   Toby’s heart skipped a beat. “You… You’re not mad, a-are you?”

   “No!” Brad said, maybe a little too quickly, because the little guy— Toby — flinched. “I promise I’m not mad,” he added. “Y’know, I was, uh. I was gonna have dinner, anyway. How ‘bout you eat with me? You look like you could use a hot meal.”

   “Oh,” Toby said lamely. His head was going a million miles an hour. Was this Brad guy serious? He just found a tiny creature going through his food, and he’s offering him dinner? It’s gotta be a joke, right? Some weird, fucked-up joke. But instead, what came out of his mouth was, “Uh. S-sure.” 

   Brad couldn’t stop a grin from crossing his face. “Cool. Cool, cool cool. How does pasta sound?”

   “P-pasta sounds great.” My God, Siri’s gonna kill me if this guy doesn’t.

   “Awesome. Wait here.” The bean ducked out of sight, his footsteps rattling Toby’s entire world. 

   Is this a trick? Is he gonna put something in the pasta? Why, why did I say yes?! God, Toby, you fuckin’— It took him a while, but Toby finally came to his senses: the giant was gone. 

   The giant was gone!

   He’d left him to his own devices. Never, in all of his years, had Toby heard of a human who would do that. His parents had always told him that humans were malevolent giants that wouldn’t let you go the minute they got their hands on you. Clearly, they were wrong. At least Brad wasn’t like that.

   In spite of that, Toby was scared shitless. Every cell in his body begged him to leave, but his feet were rooted to the spot. But did he want to leave? After all, the giant did just offer him a free meal. And he was nice. He didn’t grab Toby, or even talk too loud. And he listened. 

   One thought trumped all of that: Siri. God, she was probably terrified, wondering where her friend was. On the other hand, she might’ve been ready to jump him when he returned after a talk with a human. Should he go home, or risk it all for some pasta and the chance that he might not die?

   Toby was at a crossroads.

***

   Brad was over-the-moon. Who would’ve thought that he’d be making dinner for a little, blue-haired guy? An unknown roommate, a potential friend? This was the kind of change he needed.

   With a triumphant hiss, he pulled exactly what he needed from his desk drawer: a spool of stiff art wire from his more creative days. He could bend together a little set of utensils so the guy didn’t have to eat with his hands. 

   “Alright, buddy!” he called as he returned to his kitchen. “It won’t be much, but I promise it’ll be ta— Oh.” 

   The cupboard was empty. All that was left was the tiny patchwork bag near the sugar bowl. Somewhere, deep inside his chest, Brad’s heart broke just a little bit. Why am I feeling like this? For some tiny dude I met ten minutes ago?

   He let out a defeated sigh. Not that he could blame him. Brad couldn’t imagine how terrifying he must’ve seemed to a four inch tall man. Toby wasn’t even the size of his hand. It’s not your fault. With that in mind, he grabbed a pot from under the sink and started boiling water for his dinner. A pasta dinner just for him. Not for two.

   At least he knew he wasn’t dreaming.

***

   Toby was out of breath when he finally reached his door. 

   It was late, but Siri was definitely still up and waiting impatiently. How was he going to explain his borrowing run to her? If he told her he was spotted, they would without a doubt have to pack up and leave, which was tedious. That, and they probably would have to live with a human that didn’t have good snacks.

   He took a deep breath. He would be honest. Yeah, honest. Brad wasn’t murderous or enraged when he found Toby looting for sugar. He was good, and nice. Siri would understand. He pushed the door aside and entered his home. 

   Sure enough, Siri was waiting on his hacky-sack chair. But when she spotted him, she looked relieved, not angry. “Good grief!” she cried, charging into him. Her hands shook from where they rested on his arms. “Shit, Toby, were you gone a long time. I thought you were dead!” Toby didn’t have the energy to respond as she looked him up and down. “Where’s your bag?”

   Fuck. My bag. He must’ve left it by the sugar bowl in his desperation to leave. “Rats,” he said blankly. What happened to being honest?  “I ran into a couple of extra territorial ones on my way back. I gave them my bag to distract them so I could get away.” He feigned an apologetic look. “I’m sorry, Siri. I’ll go again tomorrow. Promise.” 

   He prayed and prayed that Siri would believe him. With a sigh, she shook her head.

   “No, Toby, it’s okay.” His friend patted him on the shoulder. “You’ve had quite a day already. Go on and sit down, I’ll fix you a bowl.” As she turned away, every muscle in his body relaxed. He could’ve died twice today and still he managed to come out unhurt.

   Still. He flopped down in his hacky-sack chair and blew his bangs out of his face. There was something missing, and it wasn’t his borrowing bag.

   Why did he feel so bad?

[lilithsgayadoptednephew]

To Be Daumerling

Fandoms: Shall We Date?: Obey Me!   Not Rated Choose Not To Use Archive Warnings M/M Complete Work

Master List

Chapter 3

Lucifer showed no sign of the weariness he felt. He walked just as tall and just as briskly as he always had through the entrance hall of Diavolo's Castle, bottle of wine in hand.

He would not let his despair show. He knew the emptiness he felt when MC wasn't at dinner would sit with him for a long time, but it would fade eventually. Through countless losses and heartbreaks the only thing Lucifer knew to be consistent was that everything faded with time.

No he would not let his despair deter him from his daily responsibilities. He would, however, allow himself to indulge in a fantasy. A coping mechanism he'd developed for the losses in his long life. The fantasy that MC was walking beside him.

Invisible to all but him, MC trotted to keep up with Lucifer's long stride. This was not the first time Lucifer imagined the human followed him on his visits. Asking questions and having made-up conversations with him.

It was a fine illusion until his attention was drawn down an inconspicuous hall by a very unusual sound.

ting

So soft it was like a small bell, he only heard it once before a pause, then it sounded again.

ting

ting

ting

Then another pause. Lucifer had never heard this particular sound on his usual visits to the castle. He thought nothing of it, moving to continue down the hall.

It was MC's vision that stopped him.

Lucifer imagined him pulling on his arm and insisting they investigate the sound. He explained in his head that he didn't want to be late, but Imaginary MC persisted. The human never could mind his own damn business.

With a sigh Lucifer led the imaginary human down the unfamiliar hall in search of the sound.

ting

ting

ting

Pause

ting

ting

ting

Pause

The sound continued in this pattern, so specific that Lucifer realized it couldn't be random. Someone was in Diavolos castle, and he needed to know who.

The door was so normal he almost walked right past it. He didn't know what possessed him to investigate the room, but he persisted anyway.

Opening the door quietly he examined the small room.

0Holy crap that worked!?

MC almost fell off the desk when he saw Lucifer open the door. His first reaction was just pure terror at the sight. If the man was tall before that was completely overshadowed now. Like watching a skyscraper walk with the speed of a wrecking ball. Lucifer stepped fully into the room and MC responded by banging on the table leg rapidly.

DING DING DING DING DING DING

Lucifer obviously noticed the change in sound but didn't look towards MC, instead he spun back and forth and listened. Obviously understanding the sound was coming from in the room, but not being able to pinpoint it.

This was pointless, he had to find some other way to get his attention. Standing from his crouched position he started jumping up and down, trying to look as large as possible.

Lucifer seemed confused the noise had stopped. He lent down and seemed to speak with someone who wasn't there, then turned back towards the door.

NO!

This was MCs only shot! He had to think of something fast.  

The pact…

He'd almost forgotten he had a pact with Lucifer from their encounter the day before. But how to use it?

Carefully he placed a hand to the pact mark on his skin and focused on it. Focused on how he felt when he summoned Asmo all those months ago and tried to replicate the sensation. He felt his skin heat up and prayed it wasn't placebo.

"Lucifer" he whispered experimentally.

Said demon stopped in his tracks, whether or not it was from the pact was unclear.

0Lucifer often imagined MCs voice when he spoke to him in his head, but never had MC actually answered.

The voice was so clear in his mind that it was unmistakable. He turned to look at the imaginary MC and gave a questioning look, but he said it wasn't him. Was he finally losing his mind?

Behind you

He heard it again, practically a whisper on the edge of his mind. It wasn't often that he was confused or caught off guard, but to say he didn't know what the hell was going on wouldn't be a lie.

Carefully he turned around.

There on the table by the fireplace were several model castle's. He didn't know what drew his eyes to them, but they caught his attention for some reason. A strange movement made him step closer for a better look.

He dropped his wine to the carpet.

0Yes! He saw!

MC jumped around madly in triumph. Lucifer's giant face was very close and blinking rapidly. MC would've made fun of his uncharacteristically baffled expression if he wasn't so relieved.

"What do you think you're doing?!" Lucifer shouted. Even with the earplugs MC still staggered at the volume, pressing his palms to his ears and doubling over. Lucifer clasped a gloved hand over his mouth far too quickly than should be allowed for such a large creature. The wind displacement of the action genuinely knocked MC off his feet.

Even after several minutes of staring Lucifer didn't know what to make of the situation. Of all the things he expected to be causing the noise this was definitely bottom of the probability list. Tiny MC seemed to be gesturing next to him, and although it was a struggle tearing his eyes away from the comically flailing human, he saw what he was indicating to.

Written in bits of toothpick on the table were the words.

"Help me"

The human was really committed to the "stranded on a deserted island" thing. Lucifer chuckled before coming to a realization.

MC was making the noise. MC was in the room the whole time. He saw Lucifer spinning around like an idiot looking for a tinging sound. He saw Lucifer talking to what was basically an imaginary friend.

His face went completely red, but he brushed it off. Obviously MC needed help and he had to focus on that for the moment. How had this even happened? He put his hand on the desk and MC climbed into it without hesitation.

It was cute how he trusted him, climbing into the palm of the most powerful demon to ever live.

"You're supposed to be back on Earth" he made sure to keep his voice low as he scolded the human. Obviously noises were affecting him much differently since he shrank to the size of a baby carrot.

The human crossed his arms over his chest and stared Lucifer down. Even at such a stature he was unshakable. Lucifer found himself mesmerized by the tiny boy.

He sat down cross-legged in Lucifer's hand. Lucifer could feel his little feet through his glove. His tiny arms and legs looked breakable as twigs. His head rested in his hand as he stared up at the demon.

"Aww" Lucifer didn't even realize he'd made a noise until it had come out.

He saw the humans mouth move but no sound came out, then he stuck the world's tiniest tongue out of his mouth at Lucifer

"Pardon?"

The human cupped his mouth and shouted, still nothing. Bringing his hand to his ear he tried to listen closer. The human spoke again and Lucifer heard a low humming, but no discernable words. He sighed in exasperation.

Suddenly he felt a sharp tug at his earlobe. He pulled his hand away but found MC was no longer in it.

"Can you hear me now?" The small voice asked from seemingly inside Lucifer's head.

"MC what are you...are you inside my ear?! " He asked in a mildly disturbed voice. MC didn't answer for a second.

"Um…" he looked down at Lucifer's shoulder from his perch just above his earlobe. "Not far…" He answered cautiously. Lucifer sighed again and started out of the room

"Alright I'll ask Di–"

"No!" he pleaded suddenly. "He did this. He can't know I escaped" Lucifer almost tripped.

"No Lord Diavolo wouldn't–"

"He said he didn't want me to leave, you really think he wouldn't do this?" He asked resolutely. Lucifer couldn't deny it.

"Perhaps he can be a bit...rash in his decisions, but I can't go against him. If he's the one who put you there then I have to put you back."

"Oh yeah? Then why are you still walking?" Lucifer didn't have to see him to know the sheer smugness dripping from him.

"Ah well...I can't be any later for wine with Diavolo."

"But you dropped t–"

"Yes I know I dropped the wine!" He was grateful MC couldn't see his face flush from his perspective. He snatched the tiny nuisance from his ear and placed him in his breast pocket. A barely audible squeak as he pulled him away.

"You'll stay in there until I'm done and you'll keep hidden. After this I am putting you back, end of discussion."

MC crossed his arms and sunk into the silky material of Lucifer's pocket.

[a-sweet-pea]

Hospitality: Part Two

I will put the link to Part One right HERE once I look up how to do it.

Was he going to come in? Had he noticed the height of the door and thought better of it? Were the sounds actually coming from a neighbor watching Robin Hood very loudly on their television and there was nothing outside at all?

These questions were answered by a five-inch tall human figure stepping into the space between door and wall; the figure of the man who’d spoken to her. His armor had a flash of red in it, a belt or a sash maybe, and he was carrying a helmet under his arm that had the face of some fierce creature. He looked like he’d just walked out of an illustrated book of Arthurian legend, like literally walked out of a book, because he could fit in a book, because he was tiny. Can-I-hold-your-hamster, action-figure, could-wear-an-acorn-as-a-hat tiny. But he wasn’t a toy or an illustration (or a hamster), he was a living, breathing human. Just...miniature.

“My lord…” His voiced trailed away. He was looking straight ahead, naturally, but the only thing at his eye level was the toe of her brown boot. His gaze travelled upward, past her knee, past her torso, to her face, all the while he was shaking his head, mouth hanging open. His legs trembled like someone just off a rollercoaster.

“Please, don’t be-”

Before her tongue touched her teeth for the ‘d’ of “don’t” he was gone; slipped back through the open door.

Well, shit.

Gwen scooched forward an inch or two so she had a clear line of sight to the man stumbling over the threshold of the door, caught by a broad-shouldered warrior before he hit the concrete step.

“God’s blood, you’re bone-white! What’s the matter, Captain?”

The Captain’s voice was too breathless to make out. Fortunately, what he said was shocking enough that the broad-shouldered man repeated it loud enough for Gwen, and the crowd of little men, to hear.

“A giant?”

Nervous laughter, puzzled expressions, and whispering were the predominant responses.

“I’m not mad!’ The Captain tore himself out of the broad-shouldered man’s grip and took a few steps toward another man in the crowd, presumably the one who’d made the accusation. “Look at the door!” He jabbed a finger back toward the door without turning around. Gwen leaned bit out of the way as dozens of little eyes focused on the crack in the door. The whispering died away as the soldiers looked upward to the full height of it, which to them must have been at least a hundred feet up in the air.

“Did it say anything?

“Are there more?”

“How big is it?”

“Quiet!” The Captain held his palm up; it was trembling.

There was quiet for a moment. No whispers, not even the clinking of armor. Just the airy, featherlight snowfall.

“What do we do?”

The Captain’s hand fell to his side with a whump and the clank of metal plate.

“We slay it.” A new voice. Gwen was saved the trouble of trying to pick it out of the crowd; all the figures turned to face it. The man nearest the new speaker laughed and slapped him on the back, but the Captain did not seemed similarly amused. He took a few steps toward the speaker. “You couldn’t put a scratch on her if you tried.”

 “Is that a wager?”

“No, it is a fact.” It wasn’t an insult, or an attempt to goad; the Captain sounded genuinely worried. “Don’t try it.”

But he was already on the move, pushing past the other men, hopping over the sill.

“Don’t!” The Captain’s cry followed him through the crack, but gust of cold air shut the door behind him, and with it, the Captain’s protests, and all the sights and sounds of the outside.

And there he was, in her foyer, another one. Another five-inch tall person. She had a moment to look him over as he got his bearings in this new space.

His hair was brown and he had the scruff of a growing beard. He didn’t have plate mail like the Captain or the broad-shouldered man, just a tunic, chain mail shirt, and leather shoulders. In his right hand he carried a sword as long as his arm, which is to say, half-again as long as a toothpick.

Like the Captain, he only saw her boot first and the sight of it stopped him in is tracks. When his gaze drifted upwards and they locked eyes, he did something she wouldn’t have believed if she hadn’t watched him do it. He took a few deliberate steps forward, bent his knees as if assuming some sort of combat stance, and raised his sword in a remarkably steady hand.

“Will you fight?”

“Unbelievable,” she whispered, leaning forward.

“No closer, giant!” His teeth were bared, his stance unbroken, but his voice cracked.

“Aren’t you afraid?” She must have looked Godzilla-sized, and yet here he was, sword drawn, ready to...if not slay her, then at least mildly inconvenience with a painful puncture wound.

“I am afraid,” he said, almost too softly for her to hear.

“It’s alright,” she said, reaching a finger toward him.

He staggered backward. “Don’t!” he yelped. His sword wavered in his hand but he jabbed it in her direction, snarling. “You will not touch me.”

“Sorry.” She pulled her hand back. Why did I do that? She wanted to touch him, maybe just to be sure he really was there. Maybe because this was absolutely mind-boggling. But you can’t just go around...touching little people. Especially not if they’re scared of you. “I’m not gonna hurt you, I promise.”

The tip of his sword lowered slightly. “What sort of-” He stopped mid-sentence, eyes so wide they looked white. He raised his sword again, but he was looking past her.

Gwen turned her head just in time to see a grey shape streak past her and envelope the little figure.

How did I forget about the goddamn cat?

Author’s Note:

Gonna go find out how to link things in text posts. To Google! Away! *receding sound of Monty-python-coconut horse gallops*

Author’s Update:

I did it!

[alexiela73]

More Caught by Moonlight pleaase!!! (Yes i am greedy) :3

Caught By Moonlight: Chapter 13

McCree’s POV

The five of them split up as they neared the castle. It was unlike one McCree had ever seen, but so was this world. It was sterile and cold, with no signs of life. Of course, Jesse knew that the Manananggal made nests in dimensions but to have one here in the between world….

This world was dangerous, Jesse knew. It was a step between life and death, and if they died here, their souls would forever be trapped to live among an empty plains, unable to leave. Unable to move on.

Perhaps Jesse didn’t believe in God, but he believed in a better place after death. And this sure as hell was not it.

As Jesse and Hanzo neared, Jesse could see that the castle was actually in the middle of a massive canyon. Looking down, the two could only see so far down, the canyon growing darker and darker. From what they could see, there were many small bridges made from dirt and rock that reached between the castle and the outside walls of the cavern, all at different levels and sides of the structure.

After a moment, Hanzo pointed at one bridge that was perhaps fifty feet down, but not too far away. “There’s a door at the other end of that one,” he says after a moment. “Most of the others have holes. I assume that the Manananggal don’t use doors, so I would think the doors a bit safer.”

A slow grin lit Jesse’s face as he shoved down the unease growing in him. “Nice observation, Shimada. There’s only one bridge that’s level with us now and the others will have to use it. The bridges all look awfully small,” Jesse said, rubbing his chin in thought.

What neither of them said was how small they really were. There was at least sixty feet between the castle and the sides of the canyon, but the bridges were dangerously thin in the middle. Would they be able to hold them?

“Should I…?” Hanzo trailed off in question after a moment, turning his head slightly to look at Jesse. His eyes seemed to change, becoming bright blue and cat like.

Biting down on the toothpick between his teeth, Jesse knew that if Hanzo transformed now that surely everyone would learn of their presence, if they didn’t know already. This already felt like a trap: but Jesse couldn’t afford to lose this opportunity.

No, Jesse had been looking for Zenyatta for a long time. If McCree didn’t do this now, it might be his last chance to take the bastard down.

“Nah,” Jesse said after a moment, before reaching onto his belt. He’d taken some precautions and brought a long rope with him, which had been on his belt. “Thanks, darlin’, but its too risky. We’ll just have to scale the wall. It isn’t too far down.”

Hanzo didn’t seem particularly excited about the idea, Jesse took from his expression, but Jesse knew that he’d follow him no matter what. Now all there was to do was find something to tie it to..

“I’ll hold the rope and lower you down,” Hanzo said, taking the end of the rope and wrapped it around his arm and hand four times each. “I’ll make it down after without the rope.“

Jesse blinked in surprise, before raising an eyebrow. “I don’t know if you’ve noticed, buttercup, but I‘m not exactly light,” he chuckled, though he wondered if his odd partner meant it.

A scowl that Jesse both knew and loved covered Hanzo’s face, but the demon walked closer. Dangerously close, their arms grazing as Hanzo slid the rope through the loops of Jesse’s belt and began to tie it.

Jesse didn’t know when he’d fallen for this strange man, but he sure as hell loved him.  “I don’t know if you’ve noticed, ‘buttercup’, but I’m not your average demon,” Hanzo said, surprising Jesse by the tenderness in his eyes. It always caught him by surprise though, when Hanzo showed even the barest feeling or vulnerability with him.

Before he could ask, Hanzo turned away and dug his feet into the ground a few feet from the edge. “Hurry. We don’t have any time to waste,” Hanzo says crisply, returning to the demon he knew so well.

Pausing, Jesse knew the man was right. “Fine. But if you drop me, I’ll friggin sing the whole damn mission. I know how you love Romeo and Juliet by Taylor Swift,” Jesse chuckled, and smirked at the vicious glare the demon gave him.

For a moment, he was almost scared.

Giving the rope one last tug to make sure it was strong, Jesse began to lower himself over the side of the cliff. He couldn’t help the nudge of panic as he looked down at the endless abyss below, but Hanzo had tied the rope securely and as promised, he didn’t so much as budge when taking on Jesse’s weight.

Jesse lowered himself carefully, the walls around him having little to no places for his footing. No where that would hold him…how Hanzo planned to get down, he didn’t know, but the demon always had a way. 

It seemed like forever, but only a minute or so later Jesse’s foot felt something solid below him. Peeking down, it was most certainly the bridge. He let out a deep breath, and decided that heights…might not be his thing after all.

“I’m all good, darlin’,” he called up in a hushed voice, before turning to look at the bridge.

Not only was the middle thin, but the bridge itself was narrow. They’d have to go one at a time, Jesse thought and grimaced. If it broke on one of them, the two would be a goner…

The rope suddenly went slack around his waist and Jesse looked up…just in time to catch Hanzo in his arms with a loud grunt and a snarl, barely managing to keep his balance. Hanzo was shocking light, though the impact still sent a shock through his legs.

“What the hell was that?” he growled, but he was relieved that he’d at least caught the demon instead of a worse fate.

The demon didn’t even have the grace to look apologetic as he shrugged, neither of them speaking for a moment as Jesse kept him in his arms. “I don’t want to talk about it,” he said finally, grimacing. He didn’t want to admit he’d slipped, nor did he like the fact that Jesse would likely compare him later to a damsel in distress.

He would have badgered Hanzo but the sound of wings flapping in the distance caused him to freeze. “Damn it…we need to get across now. Quickly…but it won’t hold us both,” he growled, putting Hanzo down on his feet.

The archer took a moment to study the bridge, considering the options. McCree kept glancing at the sky, knowing they only had minutes before more Manananggal arrived to fly to their nests.

“You go first, McCree. I’ll keep the rope tied to my arm-If you slip, I will not let you fall. I promise,” Hanzo said at last, looking at McCree with a serious expression.

The plan seemed correct, but Jesse broke the bridge on his way over….Hanzo would have no way over. “What if-” Jesse started.

“Now, McCree. We don’t have time,” Hanzo hissed, shoving his shoulder lightly and Jesse took a step away from the wall, away from the thickest part of the bridge. 

Swallowing hard, Jesse was much too aware of the tapering bridge, of the fact that it would be all too easy to fall. Was there a bottom, he wondered? Was it so deep and dark that the rest of the Manananggal hid down there?

It was a struggle to focus on moving his feet forward, but somehow he managed as he pushed himself to continue across. Each step was careful, one foot in front of the other. He could feel Hanzo’s eyes on him, could tell that the demon was tense. Would this be a success?

As Jesse made it close to the middle, he felt the world waver in his mind. The bridge was so narrow now that he had to put one foot in front of another. It was like walking on a thicker tight rope, but one that might break any second. He heard the sound of tiny rocks falling off as he shuffled, his arms held out at his side.

“You are doing good, Jesse. Almost there,” Hanzo encouraged, his eyes scanning the skies and his mouth tightened as he saw the black specks in the distance. “But could you…hurry a bit more?”

“Yes, Hanzo. Just let me skip across!” Jesse said sarcastically. “Because this is so damn easy. Would you just-”

A cry cut him off and Jesse’s head whipped around. There was one, probably that had come from a hole above. It had spotted him on the bridge, its eyes glowing red with hunger and bloodlust. They were still as ugly as he remembered, too.

It dove toward him, moving faster then he had thought they could move. In that second, Jesse’s panic got the better of him and he immediately leapt forward, bounding across the bridge in long, rough steps. The worry of falling was still there, but so was the worry of his face being ripped off.

Just as he made it to a thicker part of the bridge, the Manananggal was upon him. Jesse saw the flash of its claws, saw the glimmer of blood and teeth, even as he ran  desperately for the wall only a few feet ahead of him.

The rope tightened before going slack, and the impact of the creature never occurred. Jesse’s hand closed on the knob of the door, twisting and ripping the door open. The adrenaline was pounding through his blood, his heart racing a hundred miles per hour and he stepped in the dark, feeling temporarily safe.

Turning, Jesse was about to call back to Hanzo to hurry across, that he would cover him. Except Hanzo was standing where Jesse had been only two moments before, a dagger driven into the chest of the Manananggal. Claws had ripped into Hanzo’s shoulders and Hanzo’s other hand held an arrow that was buried deep into the eye of the creature.

Blood streamed down Hanzo’s muscles, and it seemed the two were almost frozen. And then the Manananggal’s body started to twitch and spasm, and Hanzo managed to push it off.

Jesse saw it fall away, fall back into the chasm and disappear into the darkness below. Immediately he lunged, even as he saw Hanzo sway, just managing to catch his arm and drag the demon into his arms. 

Pulling back toward the door, he half carried Hanzo through and sat him against the wall, leaving the door open as he crouched beside him. “Hanzo! Hanzo, answer me, buttercup,” Jesse said, panicked as he tried to look at the wounds on his shoulders.

The gouges from the claws looked deep, but Jesse had a hard time seeing more with the lack of light. Little scared the cowboy, but the moment he’d turned and seen Hanzo like that…it spooked him pretty bad. 

A hand took Jesse’s trembling one, and in the dim light he jaw Hanzo lift his head. “I’m fine, Jesse,” Hanzo said gently. “Don’t fret. Just give me a minute or two to heal.” Hanzo’s voice sounded so normal, like nothing had happened.

“But your wounds-” Jesse started.

“Jesse,” Hanzo cut him off. “I am fine. I promise. It will be healed within a few minutes, or mostly healed. It will take much for then some little Manananggal to kill me.”

The barest smile lifted Hanzo’s lips as he looked up at Jesse. “You sound so worried, cowboy,” Hanzo murmured, before pressing a soft kiss to Jesse’s hand briefly.

Taking a deep breath, Jesse managed to push down the terror he’d felt. Hanzo was okay...he hadn’t realized how he would react to such a thing. Hanzo almost never got injured: no one ever got close enough, his skills usually defying logic. And yet, without even a second thought Hanzo ran between Jesse and the Manananggal.

After a moment, Jesse’s face scrunched up and he scowled. “You’re damn stupid,” he mutters, getting up and turning his back on him. He didn’t like being weak in front of the demon, to show that something really did frighten him.

“A thank you would have sufficed,” Hanzo says, but after a second he’s pushing himself up onto his feet. “Lets get moving, shall we?”

It wasn’t safe to stay here, he knew. Light wasn’t an option either, Jesse knew, so he’d have to rely on Hanzo to guide him through the pitch black. Only the demon could see in the dark, and neither could afford running into anymore...unwanted company.

Taking one last look at the wounds, he saw that Hanzo was right. They were already beginning to close up, and at worst might leave a nasty scar. The Shimada’s are much more powerful then Jesse had originally thought, he pondered.

Using the rope, Jesse help on and let Hanzo begin to lead them. They needed no words- the two were so used to going on missions together that they often knew how these situations worked out before they were even in them.

Finally within the castle walls, the two began their journeys into the depths of the Manananggal nest, hopeful for their success.

[awalkingcarnival]

Travels

This morning I woke up because there was something in the washing machine causing an imbalance and it was banging and making the bed shake, but as soon as I opened my eyes I realized it was Lester scratching himself at the end of the bed. He has dry skin and tumors. He is a strange creature that I love even though I don’t take him to the vet when I should. He has an odd body, a tiny head on an oblong melon with 4 long toothpick legs, and sometimes I think he will live forever because despite his physical shortcomings and his tiny brain that forces him to do things like stare at me for 10 minutes without blinking once, he has superior survival skills and a capacity for love that remains untarnished.

Anyway, I got up and made coffee and came back to work here in bed and he trotted behind me each way. Now he’s scratching again, and I feel like I’m riding a rickshaw in the back streets of China or a train going through mountains in India. Do they have mountains in India? They do now! I am dressed smartly, as is my traveling companion, I just said traveling companion. We don’t talk. We just look at the view: fields of color and faces and eyes and breath, crowds of people, beggars and pedestrians, none of them suffering or joyful, just alive, alive, alive like me, like him, and our two pinky fingers touching on the seat between us.

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