kitn-underfoot

[kitn-underfoot]

I really want to know the feeling of holding another person in my hand. Even though they know I’m careful, I could feel them shifting their balance, trying to find a comfortable place. I could feel them moving on my hand, every little touch reminding me that there is an entire life in my palm. Their arms might wrap around one of my fingers for extra safety. They would look up at me to let me know they’re comfortable. I would smile back down at them to reassure them. Their weight in my hands would feel so warm, and I might have to keep myself from putting my other hand on top of them to get a better sense of how they feel in my hands. I’ve held so many things in these hands, but I’ve never once held something so precious and special. It’s something that’s usually so normal transformed into a very strange and intimate interaction, one built on trust and care.

[kitn-underfoot]

A dramatic groan woke him up. He bolted upright at the volume of it, remembered the situation, relaxed a little. He slid out of his bed and pulled on a bathrobe, padded through the front room, and opened the front door onto a vista of sadness. There, in the early morning light, was the woman he loved, and who loved him, even though he was very, very small. So small that now his home easily fit onto her bedside table.

“Carol?” he called across the abyss between the bed and the bedside table.

“Oh fuck I feel like a cat who got run over,” said Carol, weakly. She stared straight up, blinking slowly. “I dunno if you should be here. I don’t wanna make you sick, Will.”

Will considered this. He shrugged mentally. “I’m not sure I can avoid it. If it’s coming for me, it’s coming. We’re in the same room and all.” She replied with a brief groan of acquiescence. He stepped onto the rickety but (so far) safe suspension bridge they had rigged up from the table to her bed.

When he made it across, he could feel the fever radiating from her, just from standing near her neck.

“You should probably call my sister. You’re gonna need some soup and lots of liquids.”

“Yeah…” She sighed and grunted and pushed herself up, called Tanya, who said she could be there in an hour or so. Carol hung up and flopped backwards, bouncing Will off his feet. “Oh fuck, sorry…” she whispered, and then clenched her eyes shut.

Will considered her. His partner, who had stayed with him even when he became smaller than a toy. Who was now largely immobile, breathing slowly and loudly. When her eyes were open she stared at the ceiling. She was the size of a demolished building lying on its side.

“I wish I could do something, hon,” he said. He put his palm on her neck. She flinched a little.

“That actually feels nice, little Mister Ice Hands.”

“Oh. Good.” He leaned his whole front against her, feeling her heartbeat thud dully against him. He felt her shiver pass through him.

“Ugh. Thanks.”

“I just wish I could do more.”

“You’re doing everything you can, hon. You are doing literally everything you can.”

“Yeah.”

“Not many people do literally everything they can.”

He leaned forward and kissed the warm soft wall of her neck.

“I’m supposed to be making you feel better,” he said.

“You are.”

He nodded, forgetting for a moment that she couldn’t see it. He thought for a moment. And then he started climbing the pillow by her neck.

“What are you doing?”

“Tell you… soon…” he replied, breathless with effort. Soon he came to a more gentle slope in the pillow as the weight of her head sunk in. Beneath limp strands of her hair was her ear, delicate and very sensitive. He waited to cool down some.

“It’s soon, Will. Spill it.”

“I’ll demonstrate.” He reached out and touched the back of her ear, near the top. She almost yelped, and jerked a little, enough to make him fall back. “If you stay still, I might be able to cool you off a bit. Every so often. Mr. Ice Hands, remember?”

“OK, I’ll try to stay still. Agh.” She clenched her eyes tight.

So he tucked his whole body between the top of her ear and her head. It was like climbing into a furnace for him, but he felt her shiver, then sigh.

“That’s actually really nice,” she said, weakly. He rolled out to cool himself down. “Come back!” she said, piteously.

“Let me cool off a second first,” he replied.

“Oh. OK.”

He did it again, and again she shivered.

“Look at us,” she said.

He looked at himself, and then the thicket of brown hair he was in, and the pink shell of her ear that disappeared into it. “Look at us,” he agreed. She breathed in sharply, pained, then let it out.

“I love you, hon,” she said. “Nobody has ever… gone so far for me.”

“Nobody has ever gone so far for me, either. I love you so much.” He pressed himself to her ear again, and was rewarded with another tremor. The phone rang and Carol turned her head with a jerk, catapulting him over her cheek, into the blast of her hot breath. She made a small noise of surprise, reached her hand up and caught him between thumb and finger. She gave him a kiss. Time was that such a tumble would have caused both of them to panic, but that time was a while back, and they knew the limits of what their bodies could and could not do to each other.

It was Tanya, saying she was running late. “It’s ok,” said Carol. “I’m feeling a little bit better. I’ve got a l’il bit here helping me feel better.”

#g/t writing #g/t #i want a tiny guy

[kitn-underfoot]

G/t includes people who think it's sexy. Kinks are not evil, nor are they eternally activated, just waiting for their hosts to see someone pretty tall or pretty short or pretty to turn them into twisted, drooling mockeries of humanity. I never had a choice. It was what I was born with. There's times I wish it was not the case, especially when I see discourse that makes considering any sort of sexual act in the context of size difference an immoral act.

#this a thousand times

[kitn-underfoot]

I don't know who needs to hear this but "borrower" isn't a catch-all term for a lil guy living in the walls. They are a species from a book series with specific lore on what they look like and how they operate.

#say it louder for the people in the back #one of the sacred texts #full of very well done world building #give it a read

[kitn-underfoot]

On hiatus!

It's that time of the year where I load up on snacks and disappear under my covers, cocooning myself in warm blankets and sadness until the holidays are over. Rough time of year for many.

I tried my best to get my story to the end of part one but didn't quite make it. But don't worry! I will continue once all this has passed.

#this isn't my favorite holiday #the SAD hits hard #I'm just doing my best #i need a giant pocket to hide in until January #if i see my shadow when i emerge in January its six more weeks SADness

[kitn-underfoot]

I find myself thinking, ALL THE TIME, about being held in a soft hand. To my left, rising up, a thumb as long as I am tall, wider than me by half. Behind me, the pillars of the fingers, curling slightly. An architecture of lazy curves, soft dips, gentle mounds. Under me the palm, with its map and its secrets to tell. Everything trembling ever so slightly, matching me. And when I look up, you, smiling. And so am I, there in your hand, and so am I, now, thinking of it.

[kitn-underfoot]

#I enjoy NSFW things #murder is pushing it though #sex, baby. I'm talking about sex. #minors dni #I don't want to corrupt anyone

[kitn-underfoot]

Opening up emergency pay what you want commissions!

I've been unable to pay rent for a few weeks now and things are getting extremely dire.

I thought things would improve, but I'm being shafted by the bureaucratic systems here and my own conditions making it difficult to find permanent work.

Any help at all would be greatly appreciated!

[kitn-underfoot]

if you're cold, they're cold. put them in your cleavage.

[kitn-underfoot]

I binge watched Scott Pilgrim this week so enjoy a sizey sketch in that style :P

#kitdrawings #size difference #giant/tiny #g/t

[kitn-underfoot]

In Raintime

In raintime we walk hunched over, curled over our bodies’ warm centers, our hands clutching each other in supplication and love

for the one hidden between them, staring between our fingers at static sky at gutter rapids and whirlpools in grates.

Hold them up in spite of the rain. Let them feel it. Hold them up in spite of yourself. Let it soak them through. Hold them up in spite of it all. Let them know rain.

[kitn-underfoot]

💙Cherish + Soothe + Glimpse💙

Promptober 2023

Shot in the Dark - Dark Future AU (Cliff, Sylvia, Zia, Oliver)

~1400 words

Life got in the way, and I had to put off Promptober for a bit! But I'm determined to finish the rest of my planned ideas with the prompts. 💕 Enjoy this lovely angst fest 🥰

@marydublinauthor 🌸

Sylvia was still new to hunting. Although Cliff hid his worry behind quips and teasing, it tore him up inside each time she experienced a new horror. Not only was she improving as a hunter, but she was also improving at hiding how distraught she was.

Or maybe she was becoming as numb to it as he and Jon were. Somehow, that was worse.

Even still, she hadn’t learned every trick of the trade. 

Some monsters, like ghouls, were as stupid as they were hungry. Since they preferred living meat, they would shuffle right past a corpse—even a freshly killed one. Play dead well enough, and a ghoul would ignore you in favor of chasing someone who was still moving.

There was no time for Cliff to give her a heads-up. Hey Sylv, don’t worry, I’m not actually dead. Just pretending.

He and Jon had gone for the divide-and-conquer method in the abandoned factory, which was overrun with ghouls. The only ones left were the strongest—and a surprise attack was the best way to take them out. Jon was approaching fast through one of the branching halls that led to the main floor of the factory.

Cliff didn’t hesitate. Nasty as he was, he dropped beside a few of the other corpses and held still. He shut his eyes, listening closely for the right moment to spring up.

Jon hurried past him, aware of the impromptu plan. 

Sylvia screamed. To her, it was real.

The moment the last three ghouls moved past him, Cliff had no trouble springing up and shooting them all in the back of the head in quick succession. From there, it was all too easy for Jon to finish the job.

“Fucking stars, Cliff!” Sylvia’s voice was thick with tears as she flew to him. “I thought you were dead!”

For a second, she looked like she might send him a blast of ice in her rage. But her anger flickered out, and she flew into his chest. She gripped fistfuls of his shirt, burying herself against him as though to check if his heart was still beating.

He chuckled softly, cupping a hand beneath her. “Get a hold of yourself, sweetheart. I’m fine.”

She sniffled, but when she looked up, her expression was oddly blank. “Help me,” she whispered, voice cracking.

Fire reflected in her green eyes. Searing flames burst in every direction—an explosion that took his breath away.

Cliff held her close, looking around in alarm. The factory was gone. There was only fire. When she looked back down at his hands, Sylvia was limp. 

“Sylv?” he breathed. “Sylv!”

She stared up at him with glassy eyes. Empty.

Dead.

~~~~~

A sharp sting attacked the back of his neck.

Cliff jolted and sat up, eyes flying open to entirely new surroundings. His room at the safe house—mostly dark, save for faint glowing lights nearby. He caught his breath. A nightmare, he told himself. Just another nightmare.

“Did you have to be so harsh?” Zia demanded from the nightstand. She was the source of one of the glows, and her annoyance was directed at the other light.

A slight weight settled on Cliff’s shoulder, accompanied by Oliver’s voice. “You realize there’s no way to gently shock someone awake, right?”

Steadying himself, Cliff gruffly shooed Oliver off and rubbed the back of his neck. The sting faded, but his heart still pounded wildly as his racing mind caught up with the reality that he wasn’t in any danger.

As Oliver fluttered up closer, his teasing smirk dropped, eyes widening like he couldn’t figure out what to say.

Faintly embarrassed, Cliff realized his face was wet with tears. “Shit,” he muttered, rubbing his eyes. “How bad was I?”

“You were talking in your sleep,” Zia said delicately. “When it started getting worse, we called your name, but you were sound asleep.” She fluttered up from the nightstand and approached him, laying a tiny hand on his forehead. “Are you alright?”

Judging by her tone, she already knew the answer.

“M’fine,” he muttered. He pulled away from them both and started to get up. “I’m going on a walk.”

“No!” Zia and Oliver said as one.

“You’re exhausted,” Zia said. “You need sleep.”

Cliff rolled his eyes, avoiding their concerned gazes. “What I need is to walk it off and get my mind away from it.”

But the moment he stood, Cliff wavered. His head spun with exhaustion. The past three days had been nonstop with minimal time for sleep in between his drives to and from the safe house. He had little to show for it, too—only a handful of fairies rescued. Of course the first time in days he tried to get a full night’s sleep, he was plagued with nightmares.

“You look like you’re about to collapse,” Oliver said. “And besides, if you head out, I’ll follow, just out of reach, and talk nonstop. You know I will.” He would. 

Cliff hesitated. Zia and Oliver took the opportunity to share a look and nod in agreement. They flew up to Cliff, each of them choosing a shoulder to push against and urge him back to bed. He could barely feel them, but he complied anyway. Laying back down with a sigh, he glared at the ceiling and tried to rid his mind of fiery images.

He felt a slight weight occupy the pillow beside his head. Zia’s soft voice was close to his ear. “Do you want me to do the calming spell?”

She had suggested it many times, but he rarely accepted the offer. It was a mixture of glamour and healing—the kind of spell that any fairy catcher and scientist would kill for. She decided he was worthy of that magic at every slight inconvenience. 

Sylvia’s corpse flashed through his mind. Then Jon’s.

Swallowing hard, he nodded. Not even a beat of silence passed before she started chanting in Fae.

Not too long ago, he was unfortunate enough to get sucked into one of the many news broadcasts that explained the understood science behind fairy’s healing abilities—about every affinity, really. Healers sped up the blood-clotting process and turned off pain receptors. Glamour had the same mind-altering hallucinogenic effects as hard drugs. Lightning magic was the result of a drastic reconfiguration of the electrons in the air.

Strangely, Oliver kept his distance, choosing a perch on the bed’s headboard post. He stared at Cliff with a strange, knowing look as though he’d worked out what Cliff may have been dreaming about. 

After all, Oliver could say he had similar dreams regularly—sometimes when he wasn’t even asleep.

While Zia worked her magic, Cliff raised his eyebrows at Oliver. “What’s got you shy all the sudden?”

Oliver cracked a smile. “I’m not much use for this part.”

“Who says you’ve got to be useful?”

“Who says you do?” Oliver challenged, gesturing grandly at Cliff’s dog-tired form.

There was little Cliff could do to argue against that, so he offered a soft, meltworthy smile and tapped his chest in invitation. “Fine. You wanna be useful? C’mere.”

Oliver gave him a flat look, but his forced indifference lasted for all of three seconds. His wings buzzed, and he landed softly on Cliff’s chest. Cliff’s muscles relaxed as Zia’s magic began to take effect. He felt Oliver crawl under his hand. He closed his fingers slightly, embracing him in a loose fist. He swore he could feel Oliver grip a handful of his shirt, though the gesture was so slight.

“How do you feel?” Zia asked. “Is it too much?”

Cliff turned his head and caught a glimpse of her again. Her gaze searched his face in the dark, eyelids heavy.

“It’s perfect,” he murmured. She knew him well enough by then—the pain was dulled, but not completely erased. It was just enough to lull him back to sleep without feeling that he was taking the easy way out or abusing her abilities. Not that she would ever call it that.

He brought his other hand to her and scooted her closer to his face before letting his grip relax over her. She nestled against him, a tiny exhalation of her breath brushing against his cheek. He had a feeling she’d allowed the net of the spell to wash over her and Oliver too.

With both of them clinging to him, Cliff fell into a deep, dreamless sleep.

#god i love these three #oliver is so adorable

[kitn-underfoot]

AHAGAGAGAVAB I LOVE YOUR TINY DEMON MAN

AAAAA! I'm so happy you like the grumpy little demon. He's definitely having a lot of his world views challenged. But at least there's free food!

Stay tuned for more demon shenanigans

#kgtvan #kitwriting

[kitn-underfoot]

Familiar Demons - Chapter Nine

Van finally has a day to himself.

#kitwriting #kgtvan #g/t writing #size difference #giant/tiny #g/t

[kitn-underfoot]

[kitn-underfoot]

Please put down your olive loaf sandwich and answer this scientific science. Your answers are not being graded.

[kitn-underfoot]

The bug doth protest too much