#gt x reader

[pfpanimes]

⌕ dragon ball • vegeta.

like or reblog if you save/use.

[kodared]

✰ Stanford & Borrower/Anomaly Reader ✰

fears not enough they have to tear him apart.

Chapter 1/?

Wordcount: 2,057

➤ Summary Based on the borrowers of many universes! I hope you enjoy it, and if you don't know about borrowers, let me be your guide into a world I've loved since I was young. ✰Written because I saw the severe lack of borrower content in Gravity Falls fanfic, i hope you enjoy <3 ✰ - ★Updates irregularly! I write when I want ★

★ - Also on AO3! - ★

https://archiveofourown.org/works/58879087/chapters/150070549

The cottage you moved into was poorly constructed and had many openings to various rooms because of the peeling wallpaper. It was partially why you chose to reside there after many weeks of venturing the forest once your parents kicked you out. 

You lived with your parents in a tree until they decided it was time for you to make your way in this world. Oh, how you could imagine the looks on their faces if you told them the mess you got yourself into this time. 

Your family chose the safety of trees and burrows rather than living in the walls of creatures that could kill you without so much as a flick of a wrist. 

You wouldn't call yourself one for adventure, quite the opposite. Humans terrified you to your very core. You’ve been a first-hand witness to what they are capable of. When the cottage was in the process of being built you watched many trees torn and splintered by their impossibly large machines. 

You rather despised humans. What you didn't despise however was routine and having access to food much easier than foraging. 

Life in the cottage was relatively peaceful, it was about as peaceful as you could get for being only a few inches tall. You swore your species was doomed to fail if it wasnt for humans influence. 

The scientist who lived in the cottage was paranoid, that much was obvious. Even when you first moved in after being kicked out he stayed up much too late and consumed too much coffee to be considered sane. You brushed it off because, after a few days of scoping out the walls of the cottage, you realized he had a very precise schedule that made borrowing easy. 

He would wake up early, and go to bed late. Usually uttering to himself before going down into his basement to do who knew what. It gave you a lot of time to yourself, and a human with a predictable schedule was hard to come by. Most had kids or animals, both very dangerous to someone like yourself. Fortunately, this human only seemed to have one friend who came around periodically, but they stayed downstairs. 

You had noticed that night you were running low on thread and crackers, and the human was in his basement. Of course, night turned into day much quicker than you predicted. 

The shock and horror of hearing the vending machine door open while you were in the middle of climbing up into his shelf literally by a thread still shuddered through your body even now. 

…So what if you screamed and ran off despite him shouting for you? So what if you have to move homes? It didn't even matter much to you that when you let go of the thread you landed on your foot and wrist wrong. 

The faint memory of his hand reaching for you did rattle you to your core, despite how much you insisted you could escape him even if he did grab you. 

The way his eyes bared into your very soul, the way even his shadow in the early dawn lighting engulfed your entire body. Your shaking hands as you pried the loose wood plank off the wall just as you could feel his body heat emitting from his hand radiating on your back. 

… 

 …You push the memories away lest you give yourself another panic attack. You tried to not let it bother you much, though you would miss the plentiful amounts of jellybeans and other snacks he kept on the shelves. 

No. What bothered you the MOST was the fact every little detail, every little move you made before you ran off into the wall, was now being documented. 

You looked down from the crack in the wall with a grimace. There was a foul taste in your mouth as you saw the human below taking vivid and rigorous notes while sitting at the kitchen table. His pen scratched the page so hard you believed it would rip. 

The red journal he carried with him was the bane of your existence. If any information about you or your species was going to become mainstream, it would doom your life as you knew it. Not to mention shatter any dreams you had of a normal life. 

You weren't in any position to do anything about it yet. The effects of the adrenaline pumping through your veins were slowly ebbing away. Leaving a dull ache in your head and a nasty sprain on your wrist and ankle. 

With a sigh, you pushed off the wall and made the long trek back to your room. Deciding that before leaving, you had to get rid of the page in his journal. He had to leave it unguarded at some point. 

Your room in the walls wasnt much, but you spent a lot of time working on it. You hollowed out a space inbetween a few support beams and insulation and put a few pieces of cloth on the walls. 

The pin cushion you called a bed practically screamed your name as you pushed your makeshift cloth ‘door’ open. You broke off a piece of a cracker you swiped a few days prior and shoveled it into your mouth before collapsing on the bed. 

Getting that journal was your only hope. Ignoring the chalky residue left in your mouth by the dry cracker sleep soon found you. 

… 

That man did not leave his journal for one moment. 

It's been two days since your last encounter with the human. You tried so hard to stay patient in the walls and bide your time until you could get ahold of the cursed page, but your rations were running short. 

So you threw on your satchel and stabbed a needle in your pants just in case he was out. You used to not carry it, but you weren't taking any chances. 

Pressing your hands to your eyes you tried to gather courage as you walked in the dark pathways of the walls. You tried not to think about what would happen if you were caught by the scientist. 

You’ve seen him take creatures like yourself down in his basement, and they never come back up. 

Despite this, you still for whatever reason chose to stay. You wished you never stayed. More than anything you wished you had just found a nice, abandoned burrow like your cousin had, and stayed in the woods. 

In your frustration you kicked a piece of rock, it hit a nearby pipe with a satisfying twang. 

There were more predators in the woods but atleast they would just kill you. There was no telling what the human would do if he caught you. 

Taking a deep breath you consoled yourself, if you played your cards right and stayed out of sight this would turn out like it usually did. 

You would take a few crackers and leave, that's all you had to do. 

As you pressed your hands against the wall and shakily pushed, you felt the loose wood disconnect with a satisfying crack while you poked your head out.

You squinted as the bright light from the kitchen flooded into the wall and onto your face.  

Everything seemed completely normal, which should have relaxed you, but it merely put you more on edge. 

This human wasnt normal. There was no reason everything on the countertop was tidied away. He usually left dishes in the sink, and from where you stood you saw none. 

You where about to slink back into the wall and go out a different time before you heard his voice. 

“...It was bipedal!- have you ever-” 

You were quick to pull yourself back into the wall, your hand slipping on the wood and giving yourself a splinter. You sucked in a breath and held your yelp as you heard footsteps coming closer. 

“I know, you haven't stopped talking about it for three hours..” 

The other human's voice sounded southern, you recognized it as the main resident's friend, or ‘associate’ he sometimes said. 

You could hear them picking up various glasses and cups, if you had to guess the humans were probably making more coffee. Your hypothesis was only confirmed as you heard the cursed machine whirr to a start. 

You finally let out the breath you were holding as you felt the splinter that now lodged itself in your palm. Wincing as you continued to listen. 

“I know, I just wish I was able to capture it! I could put a more accurate sketch, what if its the only one of its kind?” 

Predictable as always. 

“Ford, I'm sure you already went scarin’ the thing half to death. I wouldn't be shocked if it left,” 

Ford. The scientist was named Ford. As you picked at the splinter you internally berated the name, yours wasnt much better but atleast your parents loved you enough to not name you Ford. 

…Maybe you where being a bit mean. 

“I doubt it, more than likely I can catch it again early morning. It seemed shocked I was there, it more than likely has a schedule it keeps to.” 

Or maybe you weren't mean enough. Seriously who did this guy think he was? You had half a mind to march out of the wall and stab his stupid hand.

You didn't bother listening to the rest of their conversation, too preoccupied with picking at the splinter. Trying to pull it out with little to no light proved itself to be difficult. 

You could head back to your room, but the string lights in there had limited battery, and you tried to save it for only special occasions. 

To your relief, the pair left a few minutes later. Only when you heard the vending machine door clunk shut did you press against the wood plank. 

Using the small sliver of light provided you pulled the splinter out with your nails, flicking it away before turning and looking at the counter. 

…He left a dish. 

A dish in front of where he last saw you. A dish full of various snacks, ranging from two jellybeans to crackers and cheese. 

You weren't some domesticated house pet. You scowled at the dish as if it had personally scalded you before walking past it. 

You walked quietly despite there being no reason to. Wishing you had your fish hook and thread to get up on the higher shelf. 

You could manage without it though. You only made it a few months prior so you were skilled enough to find some scraps on the counter usually. 

To your dismay, though he seemed to have done a thorough cleaning, and without your hook you had no way to reach the shelves above to gather your food. 

You pressed on and walked over to the sink, careful to balance on the edge. You looked at the faucet and walked over to the handle. Gently and carefully push it just a smidge before taking out a small thimble you used for water. 

After drinking your fill and putting the thimble away, you turned the water off. 

…Not fully though, he could deal with a leaky faucet for a few hours. 

You where going to go back empty-handed until your stomach growled looking at the crackers he left out. 

Surely taking one wouldn't hurt, if you left a message. 

You picked up one and stuffed it into your bag, contemplating taking a jellybean but deciding against it. Right before you went into the wall you kicked the dish off of the counter. Shattering on the floor with a satisfying clatter. 

Snickering to yourself you slinked off into the walls. You’d check back on the human that night to see if he left his journal on his desk this time. 

… 

A few hours later Ford had finally gotten to a stopping point with his research. Thoughts of the little creature in his walls beckoned at his mind as he rode the elevator up. 

He sent Fiddleford home with a goodnight before practically sprinting into the kitchen, seeing the mess left by the mischievous thing. 

One thing on the counter caught his eye in particular. 

As he picked it up he examined it thoroughly. 

A small splinter of wood, ever so slightly tinged at the edge with red. 

“...Fascinating..” 

---

Thank you for reading!! Ill more than likely be updating this when i can, but be assured Chapter 2 is already being written with plans for three others!

Hope you Enjoyed!! My Askbox is always open if you want to hear me ramble more about borrowers! V●ᴥ●V

[karume-everything-else]

Hello! Could I have some headcannons for Piccolo, Frieza, and Vegeta with an S/O who is really good at singing but is super nervous about doing in front of people? TYSM!

Awwww, of course!

Piccolo

Good thing he has gIANT ears

He can sneakily listen from afar while his S/O sings their heart out

Piccolo would never pressure them into singing in front of an audience if they aren't comfortable with it

Though if they were to ever ask/offer to sing in front of him, Piccolo would silently die of happiness

Frieza

He will do everything in his power to catch them singing around the spaceship

From having their sector fixed with silent doors, to bugging them with radios

Frieza will lowkey stalk his partner just to hear them sing for a couple seconds

He hates that they're so shy about their singing, would rather have massive concerts staring them so everyone knows how talented his partner is

Vegeta

Will pretend to ignore them in the hopes that they will sing around him and use all forms of technicality to coerce them into singing out loud

When he can catch a few seconds of their gorgeous voice, he is over the moon

Should they ever ask/offer to sing for Vegeta, he is ecstatic... and trying to figure out how to work a recording device from Earth

Though if figure out recording devices, he is setting up far too many all over the house

[thelostconsultant]

From the GT academy document, since it would be a separate warmup part anyway. Yes, they're in a cat café in Japan. Yes, it was Max's idea.

As he was talking about racing, Max seemed to be in his element. But you still had absolutely no idea what he was planning for the next week, so you cleared your throat and flashed a polite smile at him. “Max, why am I here exactly?”

This seemed to make him focus again. “Right, the plan,” he said with a sheepish smile, but his blue eyes were mirroring his determination. “We get through the weekend, then we'll travel to another part of Japan on Sunday evening. From Monday on, we will train at a track I hired for a few days. I did–”

“Hold on. You hired a race track for days?”

He blinked at you a few times, then he shrugged and looked down at the cat in his lap. “And I got a crew to help with the cars,” he added casually. 

“Cars? Plural?”

“You'll have to drive different cars at the academy, of course there will be more than one.”

“So you rented cars too?”

“I bought them, but it's not important.”

This was getting absolutely surreal. You were fighting the urge to pinch yourself and check if you were dreaming, because it was either a dream or he was simply crazy. “Max, that's a lot, I don't have the money to repay you,” you told him after a break, feeling terrible because you hadn’t known it would come with all these things. 

Max looked up at you with a confused look. “Repa–No, I don't want you to repay me. Look, I know what you're capable of in a sim rig, now I want to know what you can achieve with a real car.”

“Now you're just putting extra pressure on me.”

“Hey, don't say that. I'm not here to put pressure on you. I want to help. That's all. I'll prepare you both on and off the track.”

Letting out a sigh, you picked up a cat and thought about what to say. Some girl came over to your table to take a photo with him, but at least this gave you a minute to consider your next words. This was a once in a lifetime opportunity, that’s why you agreed to come here. And since you were already here and he had already taken care of organizing next week’s programme, the least you could do was sucking it up and do exactly what he told you to do. 

Once you were left alone again, Max raised an eyebrow in an attempt to make you talk. “All right, I’m grateful, and I would be an idiot if I said no to your help,” you said, and he flashed a wide smile at you in return.

[original-person]

First post on here let's go!!

SFW the only warning I can think of is argument?

I had a thought that made me want to try and write something with scaramouche

is probably gonna feel ooc? I don't think I know his character that well so most of this is based on what I deduced from YouTube videos and such.

BEWARE I HAVE NEVER WRITTEN ANYTHING OTHER THAT WHAT SCHOOL FORCED ME TO. ESPECIALLY SOMETHING WITH G/T IN IT. (I've used chat gpt to check gramatic mistakes so if anything blame the damn ai)

If you don't know what g/t is just search up giant/tiny

Note:I think this idea fits sagau soooo-

Angst and hurt/a little bit of comfort

Summary: you invite scara to your realm of solace (your room) to rest. Maybe you should have mentioned that you have another form besides your mortal looking one.

Scaramouche was sitting in his chair next to his desk, working on documents. His hand moved with the pen, the scribbling lightly echoing in the almost empty office. It would have been empty if not for you, looking out the window, staring at what used to be the sunset, now a starry sky.

You moved from the window towards the desk and behind the chair. You hugged Scara loosely around the neck and slowly rested your chin against his shoulder. He stopped his movements to not mess up the writing, put the pen down, and slightly turned his head to you.

"Is there any particular reason you're bothering me?" he asked, his tone irritated. Ignoring his tone, you knew he didn't mean it anyway, and you let out a tired sigh. "Didn't you do enough work already? You should rest." He scoffed, turning his attention back to the documents. "I don't require rest as humans do, and you know that. Besides, I'm not done yet."

Looking at the pile of papers, it seemed like it was going to take ages. "Well, I would have less if you knew how to do your own paperwork." Ah, you said that out loud. "But still, can't it wait? I want to be with you." Burying your head deeper into his shoulder and wrapping your arms tighter around him, Scara let out a sigh and put his hand on his forehead. "Great, Archon forbid you aren't with me for some time."

You stood up and sulked next to him. Scara furrowed his eyebrows and let out a big, annoyed sigh on purpose as he leaned back into his chair before getting up and stretching. Cracking his hand, he did feel sore, but he wouldn't tell you that. Jokes on him, you noticed anyway, and you lit up instantly with an idea popping up in your head.

The god glanced at their partner with a gentle, adoring smile. “Scara,” they said softly, reaching out their hand. “I’d like to show you something special.” Scara turned to them, crossing his arms. "What is it?" "That's a secret," you put your finger on his lips, "but it is going to help you rest."

Curiosity piqued, Scaramouche closed the distance between you, grasping your hand gently. "I somehow doubt that." You raised your other hand, and with a simple gesture, the air shimmered, and the room began to change. The familiar surroundings melted away, replaced by a realm—your realm. The realm unfolded like a dreamscape, an infinite expanse of tranquility that seemed to stretch on and on. Soft, ambient light bathed the surroundings in hues, creating an otherworldly pleasant glow.

Scaramouche almost forgot you were a god. Nowadays, it feels okay again, but it reminds him of when he first found out. Oh, how he felt betrayed. He felt worthless, only a mere plaything for you. But you assured him that you didn't see him that way. That you didn't come to Teyvat, to him, just to play god. No, you just wanted to experience it from their view.

“Welcome to the realm of solace,” you said, as he snapped back to reality from his thoughts, your voice resonating with warmth. The ground wasn't surprisingly smooth; rather, it felt like he was standing on a pile of pillows that seemed to shift subtly with each step. “This is a place where reality bends to offer peace and comfort. It’s where I retreat to find solace sometimes from the world.”

Scaramouche’s eyes widened in awe as he took in the sight. The atmosphere itself seemed to slowly wrap around him like a warm blanket. “Not like anything you’ve seen,” you continued with a hearty chuckle. “I also go here to sleep every night, so I guess that makes it my bedroom."

Scaramouche, still absorbing the strange beauty of the realm, nodded slowly. “It’s... incredible,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper. “Guess I don't need to doubt you anymore.”

As you settled onto the bed? Ground? Its softness enveloped you, your presence reassuring. “I hope you find it as comforting as I do,” you said, scooting a little closer to him. Scaramouche took a deep breath and let his body relax, trusting in the promise of solace, staring at the seemingly endless, changing ceiling that looked really far away. The gentle hum of the realm lulled you slowly into a deep sleep. For Scaramouche, the comfort was otherworldly, a stark contrast to when he sometimes tried to rest before, as he was quite sensitive to any sounds. But as he began listening to your light breaths, he found himself falling more into a deeper sleep.

As the night wore on, you, feeling an unprecedented sense of comfort and trust with Scara next to you, unconsciously began changing to your godly form, as you always did when you slept here. The change was seamless and silent, but it had an immediate impact on the bed's dimensions. Scaramouche stirred half-asleep, his eyes fluttered open, pushing down on the ground to sit up. His eyes widened in confusion as he glanced around. The realm's soft glow seemed to dim slightly, reality seeping back in as he noticed the absence of your familiar form beside him. Was he really sleeping so deeply? How?  Looking to where you were supposed to be, what he saw made him spring up in caution. Your comforting presence beside him had been replaced with a colossal figure, one that he did not recognize. Panic surged through him, and he bolted upright, his instincts screaming at him to run.

"Who—where?" His voice was a frantic whisper, his body trembling as he quickly turned his head in every direction for you. You were here with him, right? Where are you? Where did you go? Those thoughts were repeating in his mind that he didn't notice the slight stir the figure made.

You were drowsy, but sensing discomfort from Scara, as this realm allowed you to, you tiredly opened your eyes and saw him turning around, looking everywhere, before he felt eyes on him and locked eyes with you.

Shit. Shit, shit, shit. Scaramouche couldn't see you anywhere, and to make this considerably worse, the giant figure woke up, looking straight at him, looking almost at his very being. He felt his blood freeze in his body; he didn't think that was possible. Not wasting another second, he turned and sprinted. Can he even outrun it? Where is he running? Where are you? His breath is labored; it's hard to run on this plushy surface, almost falling at every step.

Your senses were flooded with Scaramouche's fear, and you reached out instinctively. He shouldn't be scared. Your hand, as gentle as it was large, moved towards Scaramouche to soothe him, to bring him back closer to you. But to Scaramouche, it was overwhelming.

Scaramouche’s mind raced as he stumbled, desperately trying to escape from the towering figure that had replaced the comforting presence he once knew. His heart pounded, not just from fear, but from a deep-seated sense of helplessness that he had tried so hard to bury. He hated feeling like a mere doll, a puppet whose strings could be pulled with little regard for his autonomy. The sensation of being so utterly powerless, so at the mercy of someone else, triggered memories—memories that he wishes he could forget. Memories of his early days, when he was first created and learned of his true nature. Back then, every interaction had seemed to confirm his worst fears: that he was nothing more than a plaything for a god's amusement.

The plush surface beneath him, which had seemed so inviting before, now felt like a trap, each step a reminder of his vulnerability. As he tripped, he cursed under his breath, the bitterness of past betrayals mixing with his current dread. “No, no, not again...” he muttered, struggling to get back on his feet.

You, now fully awake and aware of the distress you had caused, stopped in your tracks. Your hand hovered as you weren't sure what to do now, though intended to comfort, the hand seemed to loom over him like an ominous shadow. “Please, don't run,” your voice echoed softly, trying to cut through his panic.

But for Scaramouche, the giant form was a stark and terrifying contrast to the familiar person he had come to trust. The overwhelming size of the hand, the massive gesture, only reinforced his feeling of being a puppet caught in a storm of uncontrollable forces. He had always loathed the feeling of helplessness, of being manipulated—that's why he became a Harbinger, after all—but this situation exacerbated those fears.

"Scaramouche," the figure called, their voice resonant and soothing, but it only heightened Scaramouche's panic. Scara's eyes widened in terror as the god’s enormous hand reached towards him. Instinctively, he struggled, wriggling against the closing fingers that covered him. The sensation was overwhelming; the figure’s hand, though surprisingly gentle, felt like an inescapable force.

Your head hurt. Your senses were overwhelmed with fear, the opposite of what Scara should have been feeling. "Scaramouche," your voice was firmer now, hoping to break through his panic.

“Let me go!” Scaramouche shouted, his voice strained as he tried to free himself. His breaths came in short, panicked gasps. His mind raced with so many thoughts, memories, and fears.

Knowing you should listen, to give him at least a little bit of sense of control, you brought your other hand to the one holding him and slowly opened it, fearing he might try and jump off. Scaramouche felt his stomach flip as he was turned around in the hand. As the hand opened, Scaramouche, now on his knees, looked up, feeling forced to. He once again locked eyes with you. His violet eyes, usually sharp and filled with defiance, were now wide and vulnerable. They blinked rapidly, trying to get rid of tears that threatened to spill. Each flutter of his eyelids was a silent struggle to hold onto reality and calm his racing thoughts. The blinking slowed, but his gaze remained intense, flickering with a mix of lingering fear and desperate hope.

You slowly lifted your hands, your eyes softening with guilt almost to the point of tears. "I'm so sorry, Scara." Recognition dawned in Scaramouche's eyes. He froze, his breath coming in ragged gasps. "You—what...?" Confusion consumed him.

The confusion quickly morphed into anger. Scaramouche’s eyes narrowed, and he clenched his trembling fists. "Let me down," he snapped, his voice rising. "Now."

You flinched at the sharpness of his tone, setting him down. He took a few cautious steps back, guilt weighing heavily on you. "I didn't mean to scare you," you said softly. "I thought it wouldn't matter—"

"Wouldn't matter?" Scaramouche cut you off. "How could something like this not matter?" His voice was sharp, cutting through the tranquility of the realm. "Did you think I wouldn't find out? That I wouldn't care? You... you lied to me!"

"I didn't lie," you said softly, trying to keep your voice steady despite the tears threatening to spill. "I just... I didn't know how to tell you."

"That's a lie by omission," he spat, his fists clenched at his sides.

"Scara, please," you reached out a hand, but he flinched away, anger flashing in his eyes.

"Don't touch me!" he snapped, taking another step back. "How can I trust you now? What else have you been hiding?"

The guilt weighed heavily on you, the pain of his mistrust cutting deeper than any blade. "I never meant to hurt you. I only want to protect you."

"Protect me? From what?" His voice was a mixture of anger and hurt, a rare vulnerability showing through his usual bravado. "I don't need to be protected!"

"I know you don't," you said softly, "I'm sorry. I should have told you." You took a deep breath to calm your growing headache and began focusing to slowly form back into your smaller self.

Scaramouche watched as you shifted back, the process like one big fluid motion. His anger was still simmering but mingling with hurt. "You should have," he said as you took slow steps towards him, giving him some space. His voice was quieter but no less intense.

"Let's go back, Scara," you said as you looked at the ground in shame. Scaramouche looked at you, his expression hard but conflicted. "Fine," he muttered, not meeting your eyes. "Take me back."

You nodded, lifting your hand as the realm dissolved and his office materialized around you, the air thick with tension in the small space. Scaramouche immediately walked over to his desk, his movements tense and agitated.

You stood by the door, watching him with a heavy heart. "I'm going to get some fresh air. I'm truly sorry for all of this." He didn’t respond immediately, his back turned to you as he gripped the edge of his desk, his knuckles white. After a moment, he spoke, his voice low and strained. "Just... leave me alone for now."

You nodded, though he couldn’t see it. "Alright..." With that, you turned and quietly left the room, closing the door softly behind you. Outside, you leaned against the wall, taking a deep breath to steady yourself. The pain of his mistrust still weighed heavily on you, but you hoped that, given time, he might find it in his heart to forgive you. You pushed back against the wall as you paced back and forth, your mind equally chaotic. You couldn't help but replay the events over and over, wondering how you could have handled things differently. The weight of your guilt was overwhelming, but you were determined to make things right, no matter how long it took. You started walking towards the exit, ignoring everything around you as you walked.

Inside the office, as the minutes ticked by, the silence was deafening. Scaramouche's mind was a whirlwind of thoughts and emotions. He hated feeling this vulnerable, this betrayed.

Scaramouche sat down heavily in his chair, his mind racing. He was furious, hurt, and confused all at once. The revelation of your true form had shattered the trust he had painstakingly rebuilt with you. He didn't know how to feel, but he knew he needed time to process everything.

BONUS

As you walked down the hall, your mind still reeling from the confrontation with Scaramouche, you barely noticed Tartaglia approaching from the opposite direction. Usually, you would exchange a few words, but today you couldn’t muster the energy.

He lifted an arm in greeting. "Hey, comrade, are you—" You didn’t even glance his way, storming past him without a word. Ajax furrowed his brows in concern. He stood there, watching your retreating figure. Something was definitely off. He had never seen you this upset before. You were one of the few who seemed cheerful every day.

Curiosity and concern gnawed at him, so he decided to head towards Scaramouche’s office. As he approached, he could hear the furious scratching of a pen on paper, punctuated by occasional grunts of frustration. Ajax frowned, pressing his ear to the door, trying to make out more.

Inside, Scaramouche’s anger was palpable. His pen moved with a fury that seemed to match the tempest in his mind. Ajax pieced together the situation, concluding that you and Scaramouche must have had a serious argument.

With a sigh, Ajax stepped back from the door. He knew better than to intrude on Scaramouche when he was in such a mood. As he walked away from the office, he instead decided to find you and see if there was anything he could do.

I  Honestly hope this is okay I've been writting since midnight to 5am

[midnight-black2]

Hiiii! I'd like to request Prompt 11 for Jann 🫣. Idk something probably after winning Le Mans; being all famous and stuff. Meeting reader on a neutral place like a snack bar or smthn. LMAO. Jann absolutely falling head over heels because reader is cute and nice and doesn't know him 😭😭😭😭

𝐐𝐔𝐈𝐄𝐓 𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄

pairing : jann mardenborough x reader

synopsis : genuinely just what the req says

disclaimers : honestly none, just some nice fluff which is not common for this blog lol

note : sorry this oneshot got delayed so much ! also i did not see that you put *snack* bar, and wrote it for an actual real alcohol bar instead, im so sorry lol. anyways, hope you like it regardless !

there was only one place jann could go to get away from everything. away from all the noise, people, and fans. don't get me wrong, he loved everyone who looked up to and supported him. however, there was a point where it all became too much.

the bar. the little one not too far from where he lived. the little hole-in-the-wall, quiet bar. there weren't many people that went there, and most of them were typically too drunk to even notice jann. either that, or they simply just didn't know who he was, which was refreshing. he didn't even go to drink, it was just that most of the time he needed a way out.

so that's where he found himself, walking through the door of the beloved bar. the owner greeted him. jann had been there so many times, that all of the staff knew who he was. jann waved, before taking a seat on a stool near the counter.

"hey, jann," noah, the bartender spoke.

"hi noah," jann said back. "slow night?"

"yep. its a good thing for me, though," noah replied. the two shared a small laugh. there was a moment of pure silence apart from the soft music playing in the background, before jann spotted in his peripheral a woman--you-- sitting and enjoying a drink. you were pretty, and it was odd to jann that you were sitting alone.

you glanced over, and met eyes with him. he almost immediately looked away, not wanting to seem weird, and also not wanting to draw attention to himself. you smiled softly. he seemed around your age, and he was cute. small tamed curls, caramel skin, dark brown doe eyes.

"hi there," you greeted, eyes scanning his body. he was tall, too. really the full package. his eyes darted back over to you, widening slightly at the fact that you had actually spoken to him.

"oh h-hi," he stuttered, blinking a few times to make sure he wasn't seeing things. he wasn't, a beautiful woman was sitting right next to him and did just say hi.

"here all alone?" you questioned, tilting your head to the side slightly. he cleared his throat, in a fruitless attempt gather himself, and some confidence.

"uh, yeah. how about you?"

"yeah, same. i come here for the quiet, and a good drink," you said with a soft smile. "would you like some company?" he grinned slightly, and nodded.

"yeah that would be...that would be really nice actually," he replied, looking down at his hands. you moved to the seat beside him, before taking a sip of your drink.

"so, what's your name?" you asked. he was a bit surprised, not entirely, though. you didn't seem drunk, so he hadn't expected you to disregard him. however, it seems most people at this bar were immune to the news or something because he could finally be a normal civilian here, without anyone knowing who he was.

"jann. yours?"

"Y/N," you responded, reaching out a hand for him to shake, and he happily did so.

"so, what brings you here, since you seemingly don't want to drink," you ask, taking another sip of your drink.

"oh uhm, i come here because it isn't so busy, or loud. i come to get away for a bit, you know?" he explains. you nod.

"i do know. i love this place. it's like the only spot where i can breathe," you said back, smiling. jann noticed you had nearly finished your glass.

"would you let me buy you another?" he queried, nervously.

"another drink? no no no, i couldn't possibly. this was expensive, i'd feel so bad."

"it's not a problem, really." and before you could protest again, he had already ordered another from the bartender.

"you're sweet, jann," you started, and he softly smiled at the compliment. "i like you."

"t-thanks. i...i like you too," he said back, fingers fidgeting a bit.

"so, what do you do?" you asked. he grew even more anxious that you'd find out who he was, and it would ruin this all.

"well uhm, i'm a race car driver..."

"what? like, actually? like you're not screwing with me?" you asked, unbelieving. he chuckled, and shook his head no.

"nope, not screwing with you, i really am, promise. sounds weird, right?"

"no, not at all. i totally meet race car drivers all the time at random bars. it's my typical friday evening." he laughed.

"well, what do you do?" he asked. you explained your job, with this sort of passion. he could tell you did what you loved, which made him fall even more for you. you had this glint in your eyes, and this huge smile on your face. he had never seen someone so beautiful.

"w-wow," he said, after you had finished speaking. you tittered.

"yeah, it's not quite race car driving, but it's what i love."

"no that's amazing. it really is," he replied.

"you're too flattering."

"well i...i think you deserve it," he said, and your smile widened. you gazed at jann, admiring him. he was so kind, and he had even gone out of his way to spend money on you. he was adorable, at the very least.

"thank you," you finally said, keeping your eyes on him. he swallowed.

"you're welcome." time had passed as you two were simply chatting about anything and everything. it was nearly eleven pm before you had decided to call it quits. jann was partially disappointed, but he didn't want to hold you captive or anything. he noticed you pull a pen from your purse, and write something on a napkin.

"call me sometime," you had said, before exiting the bar. on the napkin was written your number, with a heart next to it. he felt his heart flutter with excitement.

turns out the quiet little bar down the street had another pro, too; a kind, pretty lady named Y/N that spends some time there.

𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟒 © 𝐤𝐲𝐚-𝐢𝐬-𝐤𝐨𝐨𝐥

𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐥𝐥 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐫𝐬𝐭𝐲? 𝐟𝐢𝐧𝐝 𝐦𝐲 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞

[vampzzi]

If no one is willing to write a drabble of Hobie licking whipped cream off the readers boobs then I WILL!!

[pfpanimes]

⌕ dragon ball • piccolo.

like or reblog if you save/use.

[derkhue]

goku 💪👊 dragon ball

[kodared]

✰ Stanford & Borrower/Anomaly Reader ✰

fears not enough they have to tear him apart.

Chapter 2/?

Wordcount: 2,684 / 4,741

➤ Summary Based on the borrowers of many universes! I hope you enjoy it, and if you don't know about borrowers, let me be your guide into a world I've loved since I was young. ✰Written because I saw the severe lack of borrower content in Gravity Falls fanfic, i hope you enjoy <3 ✰ - ★Updates irregularly! I write when I want ★ ★ - Also on AO3! - ★

You had spent the better half of that night scheming of ways actually to put your plan into motion. Sure the basic idea sounded easy enough, but you were only about 6 inches tall. His journal might even be taller than you. You tried not to let that thought bother you. 

You had even turned the string lights in your makeshift home on. If you were to think of ways to get the page you needed a comfortable space. You never liked sitting in the dark. 

The only sound in your room was your feet hitting the wooden plank you used as a floor while you paced in a circle. It had to be late at this point, and you could check and see if Ford was still awake, but you knew he’d still be up. 

Once he was enamored by something he stayed up studying, it felt weird for you to be that something, but here you were. 

If you were to take the page out of his journal, you needed something sharp to rip it out. Your needle wouldn’t work, it would take too long to rip the paper. You weren’t too keen on the idea of being caught by the scientist. 

You needed something more similar to a knife a human would use. You knew better than to think of making your own. You weren’t much of a blacksmith or crafter, you tinkered with a lot of things sure, but nothing extravagant. 

Finally getting bored of the scenery of your room, you decided that if you were going to brainstorm anything it would help to look around first. 

You clicked your string lights off and set off into the walls. Your hand fidgets with the needle on your hip anxiously. 

You always had a problem with twiddling with things. Your mother even had to put poison ivy on your nails once so you’d stop picking them and the skin around them. …You still had small scars but you tried not to pick them as bad. 

Absentmindedly walking the dark corridors of the inner walls wasn’t bad now and again. The cottage didn't have any mice, so you didn't have to worry about predators or bugs for that matter.

You wouldn’t have minded befriending a pill bug though, those little critters were always friendly as long as you had a treat for them. 

Your dreams of settling down with a bug friend though would have to wait. Reminding yourself why you came here, you finally felt along the wall for anything that could help. 

You were on the first floor. Meaning you were on the right track to the perfect spot to go looking for scraps the human wouldn’t miss. 

Not that it mattered if he noticed items going missing anymore, he already knew you were here. It was always best to avoid confrontation though.

Gently tapping on the wall as you went, you felt your body stiffening and halting right as you passed the humans room. 

If that was the noise you thought you heard, maybe the plan would be put in action sooner than expected. 

Halting in your tapping you gently pressed your body against the wall, hearing the faint whispers of a snore from beyond the wood. 

Deciding to bite the bullet you pressed harder, feeling the thin wood bend so you could peek. 

True to what you heard, you could see the human, Ford. Passed out at his desk, and even better, the Journal. 

Unguarded and open on his desk next to his hand. He must have been taking notes and fallen asleep. 

If there was any time to waste you weren’t going to be the one to waste it. Quickly pushing off the wall you took off towards the storage room he kept full of random items. 

Usually just rubbish of whatever he was working on at the time, sometimes wires, and more than often boxes full of who knows what. But that didn't matter, because you knew what you were after. 

Cramming yourself against the wall once more you operated quickly. Squeezing through the small crack made by pushing you landed on a box. Quickly you brought your sleeved arm up to stifle your coughing from the sheer amount of dust. 

Would it kill him to dust now and again or was he only interested in studying???

Pushing past your internal cussing you scanned the floor for what you came for to begin with. A small black screw lay on the floor exactly where you recognized it being. Still sharp at the end from disuse, overlooked on the floor for weeks. 

Bingo.

You jumped off of the box, ignoring the protests from your still sprained ankle as you speed walked over to the screw. 

Picking it up it felt cool in your hands. A comforting feeling in the stuffy and still dark room. The only light was from the moonlight that drifted from the window up high. 

Sometimes you wondered if your family was still okay in the woods. If sometimes when you looked at the moon, they where looking at it too. 

You began the long trek back to the humans room, debating whether or not it would be worth it to go back through the walls or just walk on foot. 

Eventually, you decided to just go back through the vent. Climbing back up the box and weaseling your way into the wall would be too much work. Plus the vents usually were easy enough to navigate. 

You used the screw to pry the grate up ever so slightly before using your hands to pull it up the rest of the way. Your wrist also protesting from where you fell on it. You seriously needed to take better care of yourself once this was all over. 

Dropping down into the vents you made sure to pull the grate shut behind you before crawling through the cramped space. Even for you, it was a bit uncomfortable but the cold on your stomach was oddly comforting. 

You oddly preferred a cold room over a warm one, even better if you had a warm piece of cloth. Even as a kid you much liked it better in the early months of fall than in the middle of summer. 

Finally, you could hear the humans' faint snoring from above you, confirming the vents were a pretty straightforward path to his room. 

Taking a deep breath you pushed the grate up. Timing it with his deep snores to make sure he stayed fast asleep.

Clambering up into the open space you could see Ford sleeping at his desk still. His body was uncomfortably curled around and resting on his desk. 

You were no fool. You made sure to plan an escape route just in case he did wake up, quickly scanning the room you could see a small hole in the floorboard. Probably made by the natural cut of the wood, but perfect for you to drop into at a moment's notice. 

You then looked at his desk. Trying to figure out a safe way to travel up it without your fishhook and thread. When something caught your eye. 

The bastard had kept your fishhook. There it lay on his workspace, just barely discernable from your angle on the floor as it glinted in the moonlight. Almost as if it was taunting you. 

Suddenly all the nerves you had were ebbing away into frustration. Who gave him the right to keep your things. You worked hard on getting the proper supplies, and he never noticed. So what gave him the right to pocket it like he made it? 

You made quick work of walking across the floor and getting your footing on the desk leg. The unpolished wood was rough enough to support your hands and feet as you climbed. 

If you could get your fishhook back on top of taking the page you would be ecstatic. Then you could move without worry and find a new place to move into. This would all be behind you and you could talk about it like it was all some bad dream. 

Now was a time for the present though as you neared the top of his desk. You had almost forgotten the human was resting just beside you, frightening yourself as you pulled yourself onto the desk and saw his arm right next to you. 

…You almost forgot how large this guy was. 

He was tall by human standards, you saw him standing next to his assistant before. 

Pushing down your curiosity you peeled your eyes away from the human. 

Quickly scooping up the fishhook and thread that was so rightfully yours. You took one more glance at him to make sure he was asleep. 

By human standards he was attractive. Hell, even by borrower standards he was mildly satisfying. You weren't one of those borrowers who actively sought out humans, but you could admit when someone was pleasing to the eyes. 

He had short brown hair that slightly curled at the ends. His glasses were now crooked with how he pressed his face on top of his arm as a makeshift pillow. You allowed your eyes to scan over him a bit longer. 

Taking in his outfit as well, a simple brown sweater with a collared shirt poking from above it. His usual trenchcoat was hung on the chair he sat on. 

His hands rested on top of his forearms, which- 

… Don't humans usually only have five fingers? 

You could've sworn they had only five. Raising your own you looked back and forth at it. 

You remembered your mother mentioning humans were genetically very similar to borrowers. The only difference is the height, which should mean he would have only five fingers. Not the six he seemed to have on both hands. 

You were getting sidetracked. Soon you wouldn't even be living with this weird scientist, so why did it matter if he had an extra finger? 

Finally focusing on what you came for, you turned your attention to the journal. That cursed, stupid, red journal. The cause of all your anxiety for the past few days. 

He's lucky you're not just burning the entire thing. You weren't above arson, but you didn't want to kill him if the fire got too big. Despite how much you loathed humans. 

You walked over to the journal and skimmed over the page it was open to. To no one's shock, it was open on the page you despised the most. 

Over the top of the pristine white paper was the name he had given you and your species. 

‘Parva persona’. Whatever that meant you didn't care. 

Below it was a crude sketch of what you could only assume was your shadowy figure slinking off into the wall. You thought you dressed better than that in all honesty. He could have atleast drawn you in detail. 

Whatever. Didnt matter as long as the page was gone. He could always rewrite it but you doubt he would remember everything. 

And the more that was lost to time the better in your opinion. 

You placed your foot on the page to hold it down as you positioned the screw at the top of the page. Pressing your whole body weight on it as you dragged it down, it worked beautifully. Leaving a messy tear in its wake. 

You almost forgot about the snoring behind you. 

Until it stopped. 

About halfway through slicing into the cursed paper you heard it. The slight intake of breath. The stutter was all you needed to whip around just in time to catch the human sitting up slightly. 

His eyes were wide as he looked down at you, the holds of sleep still gripping him tightly as he moved sluggishly. 

Screw the page. You dropped the screw and took off to the side of the desk. Already planning on using the hook to drop off the desk and disappear back into the walls before promptly packing your bags and going back to your parents. 

As you were about to drop your hook and use it to swing off the desk, you felt the warmth of his hand on your back once more before those damned fingers curled around your entire being. 

The human wasnt speaking yet but you didn't want to wait to hear him. Thrashing as hard as you could you tried desperately to grab your needle on your hip, but his hand was quick to squish your arms to your sides. 

The dizzying feeling of being lifted off the desk was the next thing you felt. You felt nauseous at the mental image of being manhandled. 

The human was stunned into silence as you screwed your eyes shut, still desperately kicking at his pinkie that held your thighs down. His thumb pressed against your neck and shoulders, almost as if he was examining you. 

Finally, you opened your eyes, and you wished you hadnt. His other hand held his glasses up, pressing them firmly against the bridge of his nose, as if he was afraid he wasnt seeing right. 

His hair messily framed his face as his mouth hung open just a bit. Clearly in awe at what he was seeing. Your heart hammered quickly against your chest as you feared you might die from shock and horror. 

You were stuck. Trapped by a scientist. The most dangerous human to exist to your kind. 

His grip tightened ever so slightly as he tilted you to the left, looking at the items you had on your hip as he lifted his middle finger. Your thighs and shoulder are still pinned to his palm. 

His palm was uncomfortably warm against your back. You hated the feeling of his skin against your clothes. Absentmindedly he used his other hand to poke at the needle on your hip. You contemplated trying to bite him. 

Your blood was rushing past your ears as the effects of vertigo hit your body in full swing once more as he moved. His head tilted to look somewhere beside the desk before you heard him rummaging. 

It was a wonder you weren't passed out at this point as his hand swayed. The motion was natural to him, but entirely foreign to the small sentient being he held in the palm of his hand. 

His eyes focused back on your form as you felt him press something against your side, it was cold and plastic. 

Craning your neck you could see him pressing what appeared to be a ruler to your side. His thumb pressed against your shoulder moving to press against your neck as he held you straight. 

“...6 and a half inches.. That should be impossible..” 

His voice boomed in your ears as you felt the beginnings of a headache nagging at the back of your eyes. In all reality, he was probably whispering. It didn't matter though combined with the closeness he held you at. 

His thumb was beginning to press a bit too hard into your neck and you saw spots forming in your vision. Your body kicked up in squirms as you desperately tried to squeeze in another full breath of air. 

He was quick to notice as he moved his thumb back to your shoulder. 

“Sorry!- I didn't realize, maybe I could..” 

He sat down the ruler before taking a few quick notes. Your vision cleared as you sucked in precious oxygen again. 

Your vision was just starting to clear fully as your brain caught up with his rummaging. He was once again rifling beside his desk. When you saw him pull a jar up into your vision you felt your blood run cold. 

You did not want to be put in a jar. Going into a jar meant transporting you. Which meant you where going down into that lab. 

   “Stop!-” 

The frantic words left your mouth before you could stop them, and you felt the human practically completely freeze. His calculating eyes pierced into your very soul as you felt him grip you ever so slightly tighter.  “You can talk!”

-- --- - - - --

Hope you enjoyed!! Will ford be nicer next chapter? Who knows!! I sure dont!!! ✰ Let me know if you enjoyed in the comments!!! I love reading them :)!!! Feel free to send me any asks in my askbox if you want as well! ✰

╱|、♡ (` - 7 |、⁻〵 じしˍ,)ノ

[deimosphilic]

1 - SAVED ME | NEYTIRI TE TSKAHA MO’AT’ITE

summary : they finally arrived back from the reefs, but not all of them made it back.

pairing : widowed!neytiri x fem!omatikaya!reader

warnings : homosexuals, no jake (sorry jake meatriders xx), angst, mentions of death, homosexuals with children

authors note : FOR THE FELLOW GAYS OUT THERE! LUV YALL !no use of y/n!

word count : 354

request : yes | no

masterlist | series masterlist

"they have returned!" you heard the tsahìk, mo'at, announce from outside of your tent, and you made your way out immediately. neytiri was your closest friend, and you had waited anxiously for ten moons for her to return.

"NEYTIRI!" you called out, running to engulf her into a tight embrace, until you saw the look on her face. she looked numb, empty, almost as if she had lost a loved one. ironic isn't it?

you stopped running right in front of her, too scared to hug her. something had happened, you knew it, every single one of them had the same look on their faces, all except jake. because he wasn't there.

"where is jake?" you asked, eyeing the five of them. the silence they gave you as a response, and the way the muddy floor seemed to be the most interesting thing to them, gave you the only answer you needed. he is with eywa now.

"no." you shook your head in denial, "n- no." your voice cracked as tears began brimming in your eyes. as much as you hated the fact that a uniltìranyu had sneaked his way into your clan by calling himself a warrior, which he told you was a lie further along the line, he had grown to be, besides neytiri, your closest friend.

"i am sorry." you apologised for yourself, before taking your shaking self back to your tent. you hated crying in front of people, you hated showing that much vulnerability to someone you barley knew. of course you knew neytiri, and her children. you just didn't want to cry in front of the children, especially given their situation.

as soon as you entered, and closed the door to your tent, you broke down. knees buckling underneath you, sending you to the ground, as you wept, and wailed loudly, now realising that you would no longer see the man you once called a friend. you were too out of current reality to care about the other na'vi hearing you. they were probably feeling similar emotions to you, they had also lost a loved olo'hapxìtu, their former olo'eyktan.

TRANSLATIONS

uniltìranyu = dreamwalker

olo'hapxìtu = clan member

olo'eyktan = clan leader

[karume-everything-else]

Whumptober 2023

Day 25: "Maybe I'm just hopeless" [Reader x Piccolo] {Dragon Ball Z/ Super}

Another pan hit the countertop, the contents were completely inedible and Piccolo couldn't be more upset. All the advice he had from Gohan, Chi-Chi, and Bulma was going to waste as the Namekian couldn't, for the life of himself, figure out how to cook or bake anything.

How was he supposed to impress his crush if he couldn't even cook?

Pacing around the small Capsule house, Piccolo pulled bandages tight around his fingers. Too many small, angry blisters had formed from his carelessness with the oven and stovetop. He was running out of time.

Sort of... he had already confessed, asked you to come over, and was delighted that you were going to come over. Though you did mention taking things slowly as you weren't entirely sure if you really felt the same way about Piccolo or not.

He was perfectly okay with finding out over the course of a courtship of sorts. A slow-burn relationship wasn't too bad a fate, and should either of you not like where this was going... it would be easier overall to break things off.

Though Piccolo really didn't want to think about that...

No, he needed a plan and fast. You would be here soon and Piccolo's attempts at cooking had all fallen flat. It was a miracle he didn't burn the house down at this rate.

Knock! Knock! Knock!

Piccolo froze mid-step. Well, he clearly had less time than he thought. But he couldn't just not answer the door. Not when he was actually looking forward to someone's company for a change.

"[Name]." He stepped back, gesturing for you to enter, "I wasn't expecting you for a little while yet."

Humming as you slid your shoes off, "Yeah, I hope that's okay. I was a bit nervous for this."

"That... that makes two of us." Piccolo smiled weakly.

"Did... it smells like something burned."

"Ah, yeah." He turned back toward the kitchen, "I was trying to cook but... Maybe I'm just hopeless."

You snickered, causing the poor alien man to blush, "Nah, you just need a little practice. Though..."

Piccolo was trying to remain calm, his mind was racing from the fact that you were here... just a few feet away and no one else was around to ruin the moment.

"I didn't want to be too rude. So I ate before showing up, since Krillen mentioned you don't actually need to eat or anything." You shifted, only slightly nervous from admitting that out loud, "But if you're dead set on cooking... maybe we could try working together? I wouldn't mind teaching you."

"Yeah?" He felt like melting on the spot, "That... that would be nice."

[mci-writing]

Thinking about CEO of Calsule Corp Trunks who’s off on a business trip for a week complaining to his s/o about how helplessly bored he is and how dearly he misses them not even a full day into him being gone,,,

Like he’s aboard the jet, phone on speaker and turned to the highest volume as he indiscreetly asks them to comfort them like this is his first trip away from home (it’s like the 20th trip within the past 3 months, please Trunks)

[vorish-wonderland]

Rook decides to gather all of his targets (including you) in one room and have some fun. He shrinks everyone, and... it's time for the hunt to begin.

Includes: soft/safe vore, unwilling prey, fearplay

★✦A Predatory Medley✦★

☆ﾟ⁠.⁠⁠･⁠｡ﾟ☆ﾟ⁠.⁠⁠･⁠｡ﾟ☆ﾟ⁠.⁠⁠･⁠｡ﾟ☆ﾟ⁠.⁠⁠･⁠｡ﾟ☆ﾟ⁠.⁠*⁠･⁠｡ﾟ

Everyone is in one place.

Leona, Ruggie, Azul, Jade, Floyd........... and you, for some reason.

"Ah... what a shame Monsieur Fier-a-Bras could not attend. I would have quite enjoyed having him here... I would have also enjoyed having the Roi du Dragons here, but, ah, c'est la vie." Rook sighed.

"So why'd you bring us all here, Seagull?" Floyd asked, making sure he kept his arms around you. He's been real clingy all day...

"Ah! I simply wish to share with you an interesting potion I've created! It's a shrinking potion which can usually only be crafted underwater, as it turns into a gas the second it makes contact with oxygen, however, I have created it on land! How impressive, non?"

"Uh... yeah. Real impressive, I guess..." Ruggie awkwardly said. "......so can we go now?"

"Ah, not yet... I do have something more to show you."

"No, I'm leaving." Leona said.

"Me too, I don't trust this one bit." Azul added.

"Oh dear! No no! You can't leave yet!" Rook insisted, running to the door. "I still have to do something!"

"And that would be...?" Jade trailed off, hoping Rook would finish his sentence.

"This."

Rook let go of the potion, letting it fall to the ground. The glass shattered in every direction as Rook quickly left the room and held the door shut.

"THE HELL?!" Leona screamed, pounding on the door. "THAT BASTARD TRAPPED US IN HERE!"

Your eyes darted to the liquid on the ground. You noticed it start popping and fizzing, almost looking like it was somehow bringing itself to a boil...

"Ah! L-look! The potion, it's-!"

And then, the entire room became filled with a magic gas.

"DON'T BREATHE IN!!" Ruggie yelled, placing a hand over his mouth. "QUICK, FIND A WINDOW!"

"There aren't any in here, genius!" Leona sarcastically said. "Octotwerp! Get your damn goons to help me break the door down!"

"I've said it multiple times, they don't answer to me!" Azul yelled.

"I would help you, however, it seems the potion is already taking it's effects on us..." Jade mentioned.

That's when you and everyone else realized that... the room seemed to be slowly getting bigger.

After everything stopped, Rook entered the room once more.

"Ah! It worked!" Rook excitedly said, grabbing Ruggie first. "And now, for what I've been waiting on so patiently for~"

Rook dropped Ruggie into his mouth, and then...

Gulp.

You were completely horrified.

Floyd suddenly picked you up and started running away... somewhere. It looks like everyone else had a similar idea.

You and Floyd hid behind some stones and artifacts just as you saw Azul get grabbed.

"I think we'll be safe here... I am not letting Seagull eat me." Floyd scowled. "You ok?"

"I'm fine, but... w-why would Rook do this...?" You asked, very nearly on the verge of tears. You've always been a bit of a scaredy cat, but this... this was too much.

"Well... y'know... I'll be sure to, um, keep you safe." Floyd blushed, looking away from you.

"You... you would really do that for me?"

"Of course I would..." He sighed. "But I can't believe he was right! Seabream read my palm earlier and told me somethin' was definitely gonna go wrong today, and I don't think it could go any more 'wrong' than this..."

"Haha, yeah, I guess you're right!" You said, trying to deal with the situation.

You then notice Floyd's expression change to pure terror as he grabbed you by the shoulders. Before you could ask what was going on, he shoved you to the side, and then...

"Shrimpy, you have to run."

He was grabbed by Rook.

You immediately started running as fast as you possibly could.

You heard the sound of something being swallowed, and it wasn't long before you were grabbed as well.

"Bonjour, (Y/N), mon petit crevette, as Monseuir Malfeasant would call you~" Rook smiled widely.

"P-please, I... I don't..."

"Oh? Whatever is the matter, petit crevette?" Rook asked. "Are you perhaps missing your dearest murène? Ohhh... how sad that is... but don't worry! You and he will be reunited in due time... ah! How beautiful this is! You're willing to be eaten just to be reunited with your dearest murène!"

"W-WHY ME?! WHAT'D I DO?!" You screamed and cried.

My my, what are with these tears? I'm simply trying to reunite you and Monseuir Malfeasant!" Rook said, dragging his finger gently across your face to wipe your tears. Rook placed a hand to his mouth as he let out a small burp. "Ah... excuse-moi... they're being quite rude in there. You can calm them down, I hope."

You couldn't stop yourself from crying.

"I'm sure you see right through me. And I needn't explain myself to you." Rook glared. "Now, en vous allez."

Rook then placed you in his mouth.

Then, he swallowed you whole as if you were nothing at all.

You were hyperventilating and screaming and kicking and hitting, just trying to do anything.

"That's quite rude of you, (Y/N)." You heard Rook say. "If you're smart, you'll knock that off."

That terrified you into stopping.

You ended up falling directly into the arms of someone.

"Huh. Well that's a coincidence." It's... Floyd. He caught you. "You didn't do a great job at running away, didja-?" You immediately grabbed onto him and started sobbing once more. "Wha- Hey! Hey, hey, calm down! Calm down, Shrimpy! We're gonna be fine, ok? The teacher's would definitely notice if a group of students suddenly went missing, then they'd eventually pin the crime on Seagull, so he can't hurt us."

"A-are you sure.....?"

"...mostly."

And then, Jade arrived.

"Rook is not planning on letting us go and is going to let us die in here." Jade said as he fell down onto the squishy flesh.

Knowing Jade, he was messing with you, but the stress was too much and you burst out crying yet again.

"Great, now they're crying again." Leona rolled his eyes. "Can this day get any worse?"

"Oh yes. I heard them panicking and thought that would be fun." Jade smiled. "My apologies, (Y/N)."

"Ahh!! How wonderful!" Rook squealed. "Oh if only I had the Roi du Dragons to top this all off, but alas... I suppose this is good enough, for now... I'll have to get him some other time."

Rook contently rubbed his stomach, he adored this feeling.

"Though, how ironic it is that NRC's predators found themselves eaten, swallowed whole by a simple human." Roook laughed to himself. "It seems the hunters have become the hunted, hmhm~"

Rook laughed to himself as he began to clean up the glass on the floor.

You didn't like how noisy it was. You didn't like how the walls were contorting and constricting around you. You didn't like how moist and humid it was.

Floyd made sure to keep you in a tight hug the whole time, calming you down enough to not pass out from fear.

Leona had accepted this for now and somehow fallen asleep despite the situation.

Ruggie was still kicking at the walls, trying to get Rook to spit everyone out, sighing every now and again as if he knew it wouldn't do anything.

Azul and Jade were discussing... something, probably businesss.

You lay back, resting your head on Floyd's chest, letting yourself close your eyes and taking a deep breath.

"Good to see everybody's calmed down." Rook said. "I'll let you all out in due time."

[mindmotives01]

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[hearteyesfor17]

I know I don't talk much about Super 17, but trust me, the love for him is all there <3 ~ He's big. In several ways. I'm sure one hand alone can grab your nape or waist while he drags you up and down on his cock (yes, the one that is deliciously stretching you out in all the best ways). ♡