#- small birds small rodents- the glue traps haven’t come in yet but I’ve heard they will. imagine how frightening that would be for a little

[fissions-chips]

Angsty Shit: Pt 3

Fairies don’t belong in the city or suburbs, do they?

Life is not easy when you’re two-to-three inches tall and resemble a little moth or butterfly. If the natural world already having it out for you, you mouse-sized little creature, wasn’t bad enough- you look like a bug. Humans hate bugs.

Jon, by all logic, shouldn’t be anywhere near humans- if he had his way, he’d be right back out in his nice little field, terrorizing the other fairies and hiding in his cozy little home. But, this year, the local farmer decided he wanted that field too, and Jon has now found himself evicted. Unintentionally, granted, but when they started spraying bug-killer, Jon the bug-adjacent fairy had to flee, quickly.

So now he’s fled to the human city, and so far it’s been… mixed. He’s safe from that awful shit they spray the air with, but now he has to contend with the humans themselves. Indirectly, they’re a threat- their huge feet could crush him before they even realized he was there, or he could get clipped by a car, or kicked as they walk. He could get slammed in a door. He could get trapped. The human world is so, so big.

But that’s indirectly- directly, they’re monsters. That’s all he can think, watching them frantically rush kill spider, beetle or bee whenever it treads to close to them (Jon doesn’t like spiders either, but come on). Mouse traps are absolutely terrifying- they could snap his arm or leg in an instant. The poison ones probably would have gotten him, whatever was inside it had smelled good, and he was hungry- but the mice got to it first and he watched them die from it, so now he knows better.

The sticky ones… the sticky ones are nightmares. He’s seen the bodies on them- in a morbid way, it makes them easier to avoid. Those, he understands and can spot early, simply going around them- he doesn’t want to know what would happen if his wings got caught in such a thing.

However, sometimes he isn’t really looking where he’s going- particularly when he’s being chased by a cat. Fucking cats. They’re terrifying, their claws like daggers, their teeth like swords- he’s dodged them before, but there’s so many here, and they cluster around the human dens looking for food and shelter too. Unfortunately for Jon, they think he’s a perfectly fine dinner- he managed to get out of the cat’s teeth, thankfully (he bit it right on the nose) but now it’s chasing him and he’s hurting and oh fuck- now they’re both caught. The cat squalls, caught by the paw, and Jon flails around to avoid it- but he’s smaller and lighter and he gets stuck. Really stuck

The cat’s wailing is what brings the humans, and when they see it caught they hurriedly shout and try to grab it- Jon is dragged right up with it as they frantically try to get it loose. He can tell by the collar it must be theirs, and maybe that’s why they’re so worried (some humans like cats, he’s learned, and keep them in their homes, he’s mocked them from outside the windows often enough- maybe this is karma).

Somehow, they manage to get it loose, and the cat runs off limping with its fur bushed out, to hide- but then they spot him, frantically trying to tear himself loose, little wings beating, entirely stuck. And their tones change- ‘bug’, they call him. ‘Pest’. The insult of it makes him want to scream.

They freed the cat, but he doesn’t get the same treatment- perhaps because he is a ‘pest’, perhaps because a paw is one thing, and Jon, caught by the entirety of one side of his body, is another. Either way, they talk amongst themselves and Jon just has to sit there, trying to get loose and failing miserably.

They put him outside. Still stuck. On a pile of their human trash. The indignity- he’s not fucking trash!

The more he tries to get loose, the more it hurts- he’s tearing his skin, already wounded from the cat. He doesn’t even know how he’ll free his wings, because those will surely rip, and then he’ll be flightless in the human world, which is no doubt a death sentence. This whole trap might be a death sentence, actually, because he can’t get free and it’s cold outside and he’s hungry and he’s thirsty and-

Someone picks him up. Or, they pick up the trap, with him on it- Jon hisses, as best as he’s able. He can’t really turn his head to see them, but he hisses anyways, because what else can he do? He’s put in a box and put in a car. Some small part of him is a little awe-struck, actually, by that… he can’t help but be fascinated by their machines. Sure, he can’t really see it, but the purr of its engine sounds nice.

He’s taken home and put on a table and suddenly there is a very bright light being shone on him- he wants to hide so bad. All the rage has bled out of him and now all he wants to do is run away and die his miserable little death somewhere dark and warm.

The human pours something on him, something gross and oily, and starts messing with him, gloved fingers poking and prodding him, at the seam between his wings and limbs and the adhesive. Jon’s too tired to bite him, or do much- he chirps a little, but that’s about it.

And, gradually- he starts to come unstuck, little by little. The human holds him so he doesn’t slump right back into it, carefully freeing his wings, sore and damaged, but mostly whole. He didn’t break any bones, at least. The human lets out a sound when he sees Jon’s injuries, and the little, shivering fairy finds himself tucked up in a dish towel while the sink warms up.

He’s washed off- Jon at first thinks he’s being drowned, and struggles a bit. Then he tires out, and the human goes back to cleaning all the oil off of him, carefully scrubbing his wings and his hair to make sure he’s cleaned up. He’s dried off, and something is dabbed onto his wounds- Jon chirps, and tries to twist around to scrub it off, but they’re covered before he can manage it and he gives up the effort. It’s not too bad, really- Jon wonders why this human is being gentle, and what he’s doing.

The unpleasant bit is when he’s picked up, a syringe shoved towards his face. Jon snaps, hisses, and sinks his teeth into the human’s thumb. Then he finds himself caught by the jaw and he becomes frightened again, chirping with alarm. Whatever the first stuff he’s given is, it’s bitter, and he wants to spit it out but can’t quite manage it. The second, thankfully, is easily recognized- water. Water and sugar, and that, at least, he takes without a fight.

After that, he’s not really sure where he winds up, only that it is indeed dark and warm, set on a pile of soft things. Jon doesn’t have the energy to question it- instead, he just curls up to sleep, absolutely exhausted.