(A/N: Kind of a sequel to my other fic, ROLL ME A 6 ! :> You don't need to read that though to understand this!)
Borrower Tommy accidentally shifts into a universe where his homebrew DND world is real. He still sucks at being a giant.
WORD COUNT: 1,341 words
WARNINGS: None.
"Tommy opened his eyes and what he saw was unlike anything he's seen before…"
Tommy listened in anticipation. What could it be? A new friend, a new foe? He looked at his dad, a smug little smile barely hidden by his serious storytelling.
"And we'll find that out in the next session."
Halfway through his sentence, he and his brothers already knew it was the end of their game for the day. All groaning and complaining about Phil leaving it in such a dumb cliffhanger, Phil only laughed.
It couldn't have been hours already, had it? They barely started! He still had to redeem himself and his character into great glory! "No, come on, let's do one more hour— please, please?" He begged, holding onto one of Phil's fingers like he had all the power to hold him down and force him into another round.
With his other hand, Phil picked up the die and tossed it into the container— folding up the map before putting it back in the box. Tommy knew it was over, they'd start another session again sooner or later.
But he wanted to do another hour, or maybe two more, now. "Pleasee, I rolled so low every turn, I need to redeem myself!"
"I wish we could continue, mate." Phil smiled, "But I got work tomorrow and it's already…" He stared at the clock, making a surprised sound at the 11:48 PM on the wall. Phil cursed under his breath, gently, slowly pulling his hand away from Tommy’s hold. "Alright, get to bed you three."
The blond borrower knew there was no convincing Dad anymore. He crossed his arms with a humph, upset with his bad luck during the game. "Cheer up, Toms! I'm sure luck will make you do justice next time." Wilbur consoled, pushing his chair into the table and picking up the box with their fantasy map and die.
“You are horrible at throwing the die for me,” Tommy grumbled, narrowing his eyes at his older brother who had offered to throw the dice for him earlier. Wilbur’s luck when it came to the game was pretty good, yet whenever he tossed the die for Tommy, the luck seemed to plummet- doing worse than when the borrower himself threw the die.
In the corner of his eyes, he could see Wilbur’s lips press into a thin line. He was stopping himself from being amused at Tommy’s anger. “It really wasn’t on purpose.”
“Yeah, I know,” Tommy replied. Not upset at Wilbur, nor was he upset at the game. He swears he would be able to throw the dice better if he was just… more human-sized.
“You’ll do better next game, I’ll make sure of it,” Wilbur promises.
Tommy looks at him incredulously, slightly laughing. “What, are we gonna cheat or something?”
In response, Wilbur shrugged, a playful smile tugging at his lips. “Dunno, maybe.”
Holding the game board, he placed his other hand on the desk. A trust exercise that slowly grew into a habit none of them thought was strange anymore, Tommy hopped on the hand and held onto the fingers for support. He used to have to walk from place to place, no matter how far it was because the big man was too stubborn to accept and ask for help. In response, they all worked together to install little stairs everywhere so Tommy would at least be able to reach things without having to heave himself up with a rope and a hook. He almost cried in front of them because of how much he appreciated the gesture.
That night, Tommy lay in his bed, uncharacteristically quiet as he stared at the ceiling. His room looked so much like a human's room- constructed by his family after nearly a year of accidentally revealing himself to them. It wasn’t exactly like him to be upset for the dice throws during the game, it really wasn’t Wilbur’s fault. On a good day, he throws exceptionally well for Tommy’s character too.
But Tommy isn’t upset about the dice, is he?
It was never the dice, never Wilbur, never his family, but him.
If he was truly meant to be their family, then couldn’t the universe make him human? Did he seriously have to be something that was never allowed to mingle with larger beings? It was a written code since the beginning of time that borrowers were never allowed to be with humans. Never share anything, what you are, what your name was. Most importantly, never be seen.
Were they never supposed to be a family then? Did he have to break the borrower’s code just to be a part of something he’s not supposed to? He’s not a borrower anymore, he knows that. He barely even follows the code anymore, but he’s not human either. Too exposed to be a borrower, too small to be a human.
Then what was he?
Tommy released a loud, exasperated sigh. His calloused hands rubbed over his face. He knows he shouldn’t think about such things, but lately, he’s been more aware than ever. He notices how Techno looms over him when they do woodwork together, Wilbur’s singing voice goes from soothing to too loud, and Phil barely gives him any chores (Maybe he shouldn’t complain about that one, actually).
They don’t mean it, of course, they didn’t. They probably don’t even notice it as well. Something so small and insignificant to them could be so overwhelming for him. He just wants to be bigger, to fit in…
He should go to sleep. He'll forget about it tomorrow and everything will continue on like it usually does (until the nagging feeling returns and he feels like he's rotting in bed).
Goodnight, me. Tommy closed his eyes, unable to rid of the heavy weight in his chest.
─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───
If Tommy could recall this correctly— and while he may not have the best memory, he can certainly tell when something is just plain wrong… He fell asleep on his bed, right?
His eyes blurred as he gained consciousness and though he wasn't aware of where he was— he could sense danger even from a mile away. His shoulders ached, raised high above him. Something was holding his arms upwards. Cold, tight metal gripping his wrists, uncomfortably pressing into his skin. He tried tugging it downwards, but it barely moved.
Instead of lying on a soft, warm bed, it felt like he'd been kneeling for Prime knows how long. His legs felt numb, ringing uncomfortably no matter how much he tried to move. It didn't matter because he was stuck in place.
It was hot. Sweat was dripping from his forehead to his nose and down to either his clothes or the floor (he made a mental note that he wasn’t wearing his pajamas).
He sucked in a deep breath, humid air filling his lungs in a way that didn't calm him down, but just made him panic more.
Tommy's vision began clearing up and despite the little ache in his neck, he decided to look around. The room was dimly lit, weak artificial lighting barely reflecting the big, metal room he resided in.
There were mini stairs and platforms built around him. The platforms in front of him connected through the middle and had a door on each side of the wall. Above the platform in the wall in front of him was glass, he couldn't make out anything inside, it was darker than the room he was in.
The metal room he sat in was quite spacey. The ceiling was quite high but he couldn't stand up even if he attempted to— his ankles were chained as well, shorter in length compared to the ones around his wrist. Tommy struggled against the chains, everything looked so.. small yet so oddly detailed.
Where was he? Who were these stairs for? Were there more beings smaller than a borrower? Prime, how would they even look next to a human?
Does his family know where he is right now..?
─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───
yayaya thank you sm for reading! & holy shit guppy writing fics comeback??? no way!!!
And the phone keeps ringing and ringing and ringing....
FIRST FIC OF THE NEW YEAR LETS GO!!!!!!
Okay so firstly, this fic has gone full circle. It started as a fake fic title from me to @guppybubbles which she made a prompt for which I liked and the spawned a story so crazy how that works. Link to that post here. But yeah anyways this is that prompt in story form lol. Was a lot of fun to write so enjoy!
cw: Fear, fear of death, minor graphic gore descriptions but nothing fatal, panic, rats, ghosts, Uhhhh I think that's it. Just fluffy stuff lets be real <3
Wilbur had moved into his new apartment, finally free of the constant pestering and confinement of living under his parents roof. Things had been great at first, well they had until his stuff had started going missing.
At first, he assumed it was rats or mice that had gotten into the apartment and had been causing a raucous, but he’d been assured by his Landlord that they made sure to do thorough checks and the last pest control visit had been not even a month ago before he moved in.
Fast forward to now after what had been a month long period of the man thinking his new home was haunted as things fell off shelves or strange noises made themselves apparent in the middle of the night, Wilbur was talking to said Ghost that had made his initial move a living terror.
Well looking back, maybe not a living terror but more of a mild inconvenience.
Tommy- or so the ghost called himself, had been calling him from his friend Jack’s phone at least once or twice a day since the phone was misplaced, and got a call from said ghost proudly stating: “I can see youuu.”
At first, Wilbur was convinced it was just some kid that had stolen Jack’s phone (which technically it was), but after he tried to locate the phone and found the signal was in fact coming from his apartment and yet nowhere to be found, Wilbur relented and gave into the boy’s story. They certainly were adamant about not giving it back or ever showing themselves to get it.
But even if they did steal a phone just to play pranks, Wilbur couldn’t find it in himself to be mad at the boy (We pretend Jack’s feelings about a child stealing his phone are irrelevant). They seemed lonely and after a while, his fear of the ghost haunting his house evaporated and he found himself enjoying talking to Tommy. Tommy seemed to think the same as any chance he could, he seemed to be ringing and wanting to chat.
Like right now as his own phone started vibrating with the classic Xylophone trill, the display showing incoming call from ‘Ghost Gremlin’ on the illuminated screen.
He wondered how the phone hadn’t run out of credit yet. Ghost powers he assumed.
“Hey Gremlin. What’s new in the world from beyond today?”
“Oi! I’m not a Gremlin! I’m a Big Man Ghost! Get it right Wilbitch.”
“Oh my apologies. How’s the world from beyond Ghost gremlin?” The man chuckled as he tapped on speaker modes to continue with copying his music work down hands free.
Wilbur heard a soft groan through the speakers and could imagine the boy probably rolling his eyes.
“It’s fine I guess. Same boring dead plane. Dark and dreary but oh so boring. That’s why I’ve rung my favourite Human Bean.” Tommy responded gleefully.
That was something strange about Tommy. He always called Wilbur a Human Bean no matter how many times he tried to correct his pronunciation of Human Being. Wilbur persummed his ghost was probably something like age 10-12 since he didn’t really seem to know about a lot of things with the number of times he’d explain something despite knowing what a TV was.
“Yeah I guess being dead would get boring if you lived in a place like that.”
“Yep.” Tommy said, popping the p. “So what are you writing down? I see you’ve got your guitar out.”
Wilbur smiled as he wrote down a few more lines in cursive. “I’m just writing out the final version of that new song I’ve been working on. I can play it for you when I’m done later.”
“But Wiiiil! I want to hear it now!!!!” The boy drawled in a whiny tone.
Wilbur practically could hear the pouting face Tommy was making through the phone line.
“You know I don’t get to hear music often. Can’t you just play that funny song about Jared now? You’ve already finished that one AND it’s one of my favourites.”
“Tommy, I literally played Your New Boyfriend for you when you called yesterday. I think you can wait a little bit.”
Tommy huffed in response, the ghost relenting a little mumbling an annoyed fine before the two settled into a comfortable silence. For a being that was quite literally intangible, Tommy sure had a way of making his voice sound very real.
This was how a majority of their calls would go. Simple small talk about whatever the two were doing in the moment or had to do until Tommy ended up going on a rant about something random and Wilbur was happy to listen. It’s how he ended up learning about Tommy’s strange love for mud and he himself sharing his love for eating sand. He’s never heard anyone sound more offended about eating sand for a snack.
What? It’s good he swears!
But some of Tommy’s rant topics were strange. Like what need does a ghost have with needing fishing hooks or dental floss? He assumed that the boy must have had some unusual fascination with tiny things before he died because he seemed to be very particular about how things needed to be if he were suddenly shrunk.
Like today how the Ghosts rant topic was about Rats and what right royal pricks they were.
“Like you don’t understand Wilbur, Rats are the absolute worst! They just come marching into your space and then decide to go through all your food stores and eat it- which they’re never satisfied with by the way, before trying to take a bite of you!” Tommy explained.
“Yes they are quite wretched little creatures. I wouldn’t like it if one bit my hand either.” Wilbur agreed as he finished writing another verse.
“If I could, I’d stab them before they ever even got close. I’d take my sword and plunge it into their hearts, all heroic and stuff.”
“Couldn’t you just use your ghost powers and I don’t know, fling them away?”
How would a rat even bite a ghost? Ghost’s don’t exactly have tangible bodies, Wilbur thought.
“Stabbing them sounds like a lot more work when you can’t actually touch them.”
“Well if you want to be a boring ghost you can. But what other ghosts do you know can stab their enemies?”
“Well you-”
“NONE! EXACTLY!” Tommy shouted triumphantly. “I’m one of a kind Wilbur and the Poggest Ghost to ever live!”
“Sure Tommy. Sure.”
The ghost feigned offense with a long gasp. “You dare doubt me, the great and powerful TommyInnit? I could destroy you if I wanted to, you know.”
“Yeah but you won’t.” Wilbur shot back. “You’re just a sad child that has no one better to talk to and would miss me if you destroyed your only friend.”
“I would not because A. I have lots of friends and B. I’m not a child.” The boy snapped.
“How does that even make sense?” Wilbur queried as he finished off the last few lines in cursive.
“It doesn’t have to make sense purely because I’m better than you.”
“Sure little man.”
The boy huffed through the phone line. “I’m not little.”
“Little Baby Man.” the brunette teased.
“Stop it.”
“Little Baby Man Child.”
“AM NOT A LITTLE BABY MAN! I’M A BIG MAN! BIGGER THAN YOU, THE WORLD OR EVEN THE UNI-”
“But you accept that you’re a child.” Wilbur smirked as he moved the papers to pick up his guitar.
Tommy groaned.
Wilbur played his guitar for a few more hours before Tommy eventually said his goodbyes to do ‘ghostly things’ as per usual for the night, leaving Wilbur the rest of the evening to settle down for bed. He’d been asleep probably an hour or so before being woken to the sound of his ringtone.
Groggily, Wilbur reached for his phone on the nightstand, half asleep as it rang. Instead of grabbing it though, he accidentally knocked it to the ground earning a groan from the man as he lazily searched the ground for it. Just as he grabbed the phone, the call rang out leaving one new voice mail message in his notifications.
Blearily ignoring who the message was from, he opened his phone and tapped on the voicemail raising it up to listen.
‘You have one-new-voicemail BEEP!’
“Wil, WILBUR!”
Hang on. That sort of sounds like Tommy.
“PICK UP YOUR PHONE! PLEASE WIL! I NEED HELP!”
Wilbur bolted upright now fully wide awake. Tommy was in trouble. He needed help. Where was he? How could he help a ghost?
Before his mind could divulge into further panic, his phone rang again and Wilbur didn’t hesitate to answer.
“Tommy? Tommy, where are you? Are you okay? I-”
“WILBUR HELP ME PLEASE! IT’S HERE! IT’S GOING TO GET ME AND I’M CORNERED! I’M GONNA DIE I PLE-” The cries of the boy sending the brunette into panic mode.
“WOAH WOAH woah Tommy I need you to calm down for me.” Wilbur tried, listening to the labored breaths of the ghost on the other line. “I need you to tell me where you are so I can come help, can you do that.”
“I- I’m.. Uh. I CAN’T TELL YOU! YOU’LL HATE ME!” The boy yelled between hiccupped breaths as they began to cry, loud thumping and hisses filling the background noise.
“Tommy, all I care about is finding you to help, I’m not going to hate you.”
“But you will! Everyone hates me when they find out!”
Tommy had never sounded so terrified before. Wilbur never truly believed anything could hurt the ghost before, but whatever had them so panicked must be serious and the increase in thrashing noises was not easing his nerves.
“Toms, I could never hate you. I want to help you, but I can’t do that unless you tell me where you are.”
“I- Promise?” Desperation clear in the boy's voice.
“I promise.”
There was a brief pause from the boy before they shakily instructed him into the Hallway.
“Okay, open the closest and I’m in there.”
A loud screech came through the phone's speakers followed by a cry in pain before Tommy was screaming for help through the speakers.
“WILBUR HURRY! I CAN’T HOLD THEM OFF FOR MUCH LONG—.”
“Tommy? TOMMY?!”
The line was dead.
Wilbur had never run faster in his life. His mind spiraled with horrid thoughts at what that sound was and why Tommy would be in his closet, but despite the ridiculousness of it, his focus was on helping his friend.
As he approached the closet, the sound of muffled hissing and shrieking filled his senses and Wilbur was quick to fling open the closet.
Nothing.
Wilbur stood confused but the noises didn’t cease, only growing louder now the door was open. He followed the sound down to the floor, realising that whatever it was, was beneath the floorboards.
Wilbur was quick to act and ran to grab something from the kitchen to pry the boards up, the sounds growing worse with every passing second. As soon as he had what he needed, Wilbur started heaving each nail out from the floor, prying the board up to reveal what was beneath. With one final pull, the board came loose, and the man yanked the board back revealing an unseemly sight.
A huge rat was scratching and gnawing at what appeared to be a tiny wardrobe. It hadn’t seemed to notice Wilbur yet, hell bent at getting whatever was inside the little cupboard. It was when the rat tried head butting the cupboard did a terrified scream hit his ears.
The brunette grabbed the rat in an instant, gripping the thing tightly as it writhed and screeched in his grasp. Quickly he stood and moved to take it outside where he threw it; standing there, panting heavily watching as it landed with a thump before whimpering away.
What just happened?
He barely had any time to dwell on it further before tiny little thumps could be heard coming from back down the hall.
Tommy
“Tommy!” Wilbur rushed back inside and crouched down on his knees as he observed what laid before him. “Tommy are you alright?”
Despite it being wrecked, it appeared to be a miniature room. Small fairy lights lined the walls and small trinkets made up what could be a wrecked table and chair, sprawled all over the place from the intrusion of the rat. But what really shocked Wilbur, was seeing Jack’s old phone slightly banged up beneath part of a broken floor board in the corner.
Gingerly, Wilbur reached out and lifted it from the debris, to inspect if it was actually real or his imagination. It indeed was the very same phone Jack lost and somehow was even plugged into a charging port.
What is all this?
“Tommy are you?” Wilbur asked, confusion lacing his voice. Why was Jack’s phone in a tiny room? Where was his friend?
Suddenly, the wardrobe the rat had been so interested in moved. Wilbur set the phone down as the small piece of furniture jerked again, making it wobble ever so slightly in place.
With bated breath, Wilbur carefully reached forward, gently picking up the tiny wardrobe between his thumb and pointer finger bringing it into his palm.
It was banged up badly from how the rat had been trying to tear into it, but intact. What was it about this that had the rat so enthralled?
Trying the best he could, Wilbur grabbed the tiny little door knob and pried the door open.
Wilbur froze, dumb founded at what was hidden inside.
Staring at him with blue eyes blown wide in terror, was a tiny little blonde boy, pushed far back into the wardrobe as humanly possible, gripping the sides with all their might. Their breathing was labored and they looked worse for wear, tears through their little jacket and angry red scratches littering their arms, some even appearing to be smeared with blood.
“What on earth?” Wilbur’s brow crinkled in confusion.
He was holding a tiny person in a wardrobe.
A tiny person that had almost been killed by a rat.
The tiny boy’s eyes darted all over the place, seemingly trying to figure out how to escape the mess they were in, as Wilbur tried to process that he was holding an entire person within his palms. How was this even possible?
“I- ” The tiny person begged, Wilbur’s full attention locked onto them as tears continued to stream down their face. “Please don’t hurt me Wilby!”
Tommy?!
No. No Tommy was- Tommy is a Ghost that made random phone calls. Tommy that loved his music and mud that was very much a ghost and not a tiny little person.
“Tommy?” Wilbur brought his free hand to cover his mouth. “What. How?”
“Please don’t hate me! I’ll leave! You’ll never see me again, just don’t hurt me!” The little boy pleaded, curling into themselves in an attempt to hide themself. “I never meant for this to happen. You weren’t supposed to know and now you’ll-”
“Tommy, Toms calm down. I’m not going to hurt you.”
“Yeah right! That’s when you thought I was a ghost! Now you know the truth and I can’t do anything about it.” the boy sobbed.
Wilbur hated how small Tommy looked. He was always so bright and full of life when they spoke on the phone, but now it was like holding a fragile flower. So small, so delicate, so precious and in need of protection. He just wanted to reach out and hold them close.
“Tommy, look at me please.” Wilbur pleaded, waiting patiently for the boy to look at him before he continued.
“Tommy, I would never hurt you. Yes you pretended to be a ghost and took Jack’s phone, but that doesn’t change how I feel about you.” Tommy lifted his head and swiped his arm across his nose of snot and tears as Wilbur continued.
“You’re one of my best friends Tommy. I don’t talk to anyone nearly as much as I do with you and I care about you, whether you’re a ghost or not.” Wilbur brought Tommy a bit closer to himself, lifting the tiny boy up to be eye level.
“Besides, I made a promise to not hate you, remember? I intend to keep it.”
Tommy's lip began to wobble, before the boy burst into tears, unable to hold himself back any longer.
“I’m sorry Wilby!” The boy cried as they crawled out of the wardrobe onto the man's hand. “ I wanted to tell you but I was scared.”
“Shh it’s alright.” Wilbur assured, setting the wardrobe down before bringing Tommy close to his chest protectively. “I’ve got you and it’s all going to be okay.”
While this whole ordeal was crazy and strange, in this moment it didn’t matter.
They’d have to talk about why the boy was living in the man’s floors and why he pretended to be a ghost in the first place (not to mention how and why Tommy was like 3 inches tall) but that could all wait for later.
Wilbur loved Tommy more than the boy ever understood, and it brought great joy to Wilbur that finally, he was able to meet his pseudo little brother face to face. They’d figure everything out eventually, but for now-
This was enough.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
AND THANK YOU IF YOU READ TO THE END!!
For real this was fun to write and I did it all in one sitting lol. Was good to just smash out a short project that was something new and different. It took me far too long to get around to editing it though lol. Thank you Squishy and Munchkin for Beta reading. You're the best! ❤️❤️❤️
Tag List Link here: @local-squishmallow @brick-a-doodle-do @justarandomsloth @veryfunkycheesecake @munchkin1156 @kayla-crazy-stuffs @da3dm @eiscreme135 @orchid-harmony @the-tiny-lurker @colossal-red @nobodywritingao3 @nata2343 @bad-author777 @crazyfoxgirl10 @guppybubbles
OH AND I ALMOST FORGOT, LOOK AT THE ART SQUISHY MADE FOR THIS AFTER THEY FINISHED READING!!!
I MEAN LOOK AT THIS! IT'S THE WARDROBE SCENE! When I tell you I squealed in delight when I saw this I mean it. I walked into work grinning because it's all I could think about lol. Thanks again beautiful! Truly gifted you are <3
Fake fic title:
Soft whispers of you who I call mine
The people of Quesadilla Island are a very tight-knit group. A parent is always ready to take care of another kid when a person is busy, they have their teleportation gems ready whenever a kid is getting attacked by the code to protect them, and despite language barriers, they've found partners and close friends within each other.
Because of this, people would always notice how Slime and Mariana treat one another. It's not like they hide it either. Mariana is quite the tall guy, though Charlie is a special case. He's a giant slime, very overwhelming in height. Not only was his height overwhelming, but his personality was very energetic and mischievous, constantly pulling pranks with JuanaFlippa.
He's also… dramatic. The littlest things will cause him to start arguing with Mariana. Slime is loud, boisterous, and animated whenever he hangs out with anyone. But JuanaFlippa knows there's another side to their relationship.
In private, she sees Slime become so soft and quiet. Slime would always stare at his little lover adoringly, taking him in in peaceful silence. She would hear him whisper soft nothings and laugh so faintly that only his shoulders would move up and down quickly. Whenever Slime holds him close, he's so gentle and slow.
Slime, who's so open and lively, cherishes every private moment he has with Mariana.
And the phone keeps ringing and ringing and ringing...
hey... hey... how yall doing.. *awkwardly walks in* (realised i never posted the other fic titles even though i had already written them)
Wilbur is 100% sure this apartment is haunted. Great. His first taste of independence after moving out of his parents' house and pursuing a career in music, he gets haunted.
At first, he thought he was simply just misplacing things. Though stuff was falling off of shelves when his back is turned, whenever he places something down, it disappears after he turns around for one second and there would be random noises in the walls in the middle of the night. When he gets out of bed to investigate the sound, he finds nothing.
His friends came to visit just to see how Wilbur's been holding up in his new home, though it became a problem after Jack's phone went missing and no matter how much they called the phone and turned the apartment upside down. It was never found. Wilbur apologised and promised to give Jack his phone if ever he found it.
A week has passed, and Wilbur has completely forgotten about it until he receives a phone call from Jack. "Hello? Jack..?"
There was silence for a moment. "I can see youuu." It was a whisper of a voice he didn't know. The voice sounded like a kid, young and playful.
Prank callers. Someone stole Jack's phone and is messing with people. The call ended before Wilbur could reply.
Tommy giggled. Finally, he knew how to use the contacts feature! The borrower found Wilbur's reaction so funny. Maybe he should keep calling…
StopNCII.org is operated by the Revenge Porn Helpline which is part of SWGfL, a charity that believes that everyone should benefit from technology, free from harm. Founded in 2000, SWGfL works with a number of partners and stakeholders around the world to protect everyone online
i've been trying for like i tjink it's been two years now? it was really cool cause the first time i tried to shift it was may 13th 2021, and then i forgot about it a little bit, then a year later i saw a video about shifting on may 13th 2022!!!
anyway i think you can tell who i am so like 👉👈 if you wanted to talk in dms on discord or something you seem awesome !!! but /nf/nf ofc :)
alsooo i'm so excited for the fic !!! honestly it fits so well cause all you really need to shift is the intention so if a borrower had a tough ass day and they just went to bed thinking "i wish i was a human" technically it'd totally be possible for them to shift >:)
YOU KNOW THE EXACT DATE THAT'S SO COOL!! i hope you get to shift soon, i have a friend who shifts, and they talk about how much fun they have in their dr. YOU'LL GET TO SHIFT SOON IM CHEERING FOR YOU!!
YES IM LIKE 101% I KNOW WHO YOU ARE and of course, i'd love to talk on discord!! just send me your @ and ill send a friend req <3!
AND THAT WAS MY THOUGHT PROCESS TOO! i know a few methods when it comes to shifting so repeating your intentions, TECHNICALLY counts, right?? i might be wrong so 😭 BUT THAT WONT STOP ME FROM WRITING!!!
I saw brick ask so Imma send a few too for inspo!!!
The rain that falls like tears
I GOT CARRIED AWAY 😰😭 TY FOR THE FAKE FIC TITLES BECKYU!!! <33 (ignore any grammar errors LMAO)
The rain that falls like tears.
Just like his father and older brother, Wilbur was a farmer. They make ends meet with the crops they grow, and their farm is only growing bigger and bigger, attracting more customers and more workers. However, that was when they were young kids. They helped the farm when they could, and they were promised to take over the entire thing when Phil retired.
Phil has yet to retire, but both Techno and Wilbur are adults, so they spend most of their days on the field. However, the weather wasn't what it used to be during their childhood days.
For the past 16 years, the weather was… decent. In a way that for a decade and a half, there was no sunshine or rain. The weather was damp, humid, and boring. The sun made its appearance (as it usually does every day), but it doesn't shine. The clouds would sometimes cover the sun, but it doesn't block out any sunlight, nor does it rain.
They were glad that thunderstorms and hurricanes barely showed up anymore, but the lack of… any sort of weather was slowly but surely damaging their farming business.
The lack of nutrients to the soil causes the crops to lose quality, effectively losing the big business their dad had built.
After months of research, Wilbur had found out about the God of the Weather. He needed to look for the God and pray for at least any rain or any sunshine. Wilbur felt he and Techno would take over the business soon, and if nothing is done about the weather, their farm industry would be gone in a matter of seconds. Wilbur left their home, leaving Techno and Phil to tend to the crops.
Weeks upon weeks of travel, and he had finally met the weather god. Wilbur first notes down that the god looked very young and then sees how unemotional this kid was. He bowed and spoke respectfully but was only met with a blank stare and a blank introduction. Tommy, the god of the weather.
Wilbur pleaded with the weather god and asked for at least a little rain or a little sunshine, but Tommy refused, saying he couldn't. After days of talking, Tommy agreed to change the weather after doing certain tasks around the forest he lives in. They spent months together, slowly building a friendship as Wilbur continued to complete tasks.
Wilbur learned that the old weather god, Theseus, had died, and Tommy was chosen at birth to be the next vessel for the weather god. However, it proved to be quite difficult for Tommy to control his ability and grew up to be unemotional— trying to train his powers every single day.
On another empty day, Wilbur confronts the god once more. He's been doing everything Tommy asked, no questions and no complaints, yet there's still no updates on whether or not Tommy will do his end on the deal. He feels he's stuck in this forest, trying to desperately please the god with no luck. He hasn't even heard of any updates on his family, and he's beginning to be worried, anxious, and irritated. As he angrily spoke of his frustrations to Tommy, the god's expression didn't move. Not even a flinch.
Wilbur finished off his rant and eventually said he'll leave this forest. He'll find some other way to help his family. He just can't let his father's business go down the drain. He bid his goodbye to Tommy, bowing in respect.
The clouds darkened, and as he walked away, raindrops gently slid off his glasses and onto his skin. It was raining.
Behind him, he could hear a faint sob. Tommy was crying
AS AN ATTEMPTING SHIFTER (especially for being a borrower) THAT IS SUCH A FUCKING COOL ASS IDEA I LOVE THAT SO MUCH ???? LIKE AWHAT ?? COOL!!!! My surprise when you mentioned shifting, I w like ":OOOO" ,,, Anyway I love this idea cause G/T body swapping is one of my favs :D
— You know me I just do not want to reveal my identity
HELLO!! AND IKR???
i tried to shift during quarantine, but it just never worked, and i gave up in the end. i even have a little script and everything!! it's not much, i only understood the basics of it tbh
BUT YES IM SO GLAD U FOUND IT COOL!!! im lowkey making a fic about it already bc my mind can't get rid of it (actively ignoring other drafts)
OKAY LISTEN IDK MUCH ABOUT SHIFTING BUT,, CAN YOU IMAGINE A BORROWER— SOMEONE WHO DOESNT KNOW SHIFTING AT ALL— ACCIDENTALLY SHIFTS INTO A DESIRED REALITY WHERE THEYRE A GIANT?
not even shifting to a reality where they're human, they immediately wake up to a world where they're just bigger than everything
they're just all out in the open, unable to sneak through walls and hide in smaller holes. they're not used to it. they're scared and frightened, and they don't understand what the HELL is going on.
maybe they encountered their friend, the friend is like super confused about why their giant friend isn't giant-ing like they used to. they're terrified of every movement they make, they're always in a daze, they're confused, and they keep asking questions. they're acting like they used to when they first met, and they're just trying to comfort them through everything.
brick, you may have noticed i accidentally posted it before i typed the contents in, haha wdym, no i didn't look over there, a distraction (i also hope you don't mind the tag!)
anyway, it's time i finally posted it so here it is!
list of the fake fic titles brick sent because i feel bad for accidentally posting the ask and having to delete it 😭 (THANK GOD I SAVED IT SOMEWHERE ELSE):
Newly nascent and placed, now, adjacent.
Things of that past dreamt.
Wandering wanderlust, which travels to unspoken territory.
How far could you go?
My life is on the line, trust me, I know.
if you wanna see my ideas for these fake fics vvv
YOU LOOKED :0
Newly nascent and placed, now, adjacent.
Android Jack Manifold is the first prototype for a robot used for everyday life, built with the same knowledge of a cellphone, this android was made to fit in a human’s hand and provide it with the same functions any phone can, except for one thing. This tiny android was given the code of learning emotions, so it’s holder can vent and rant their problems to their tiny buddy, and the robot will run through their code to give the best suited answer to their big friend’s troubles. Not only is it coded to know emotions and react accordingly, it’s also been coded to study and adapt to emotions. This android is coded to literally have emotions.
As Jack continued to interact with his makers, he learned more about their emotions and their troubles. He knows of their lack of financial stability, and right now, he’s the only robot that’s coded to have emotions. He knows of their struggles to find a sponsor willing to take their project seriously. Jack walks them through their problems step-by-step and stayed by their side 24/7.
It’s been a couple of months now, and he can say he feels… joy once their makers happily announce they’ve gotten a partnership with a big company and a sponsor, allowing them to continue their dream.
Production of the actual product begins, and it’s going well! Jack felt excitement, knowing that there would be humans who could finally have a life-long friend, just like with him and his makers. There were many buyers of the little robot once it was released to the public.
His makers arrived home with the same packaging of the little robot, and he was placed in the basement for ‘safe-keeping’. “We wouldn’t want you to potentially get hurt while we aren’t around for our business trip.” No.. No, of course they wouldn’t, because they cared for him. But why couldn’t they bring him with them on their trip? Why did he have to be left alone in the basement for an unknown period of time.
His makers never returned. Jack felt empty.
Things of that past dreamt.
CONTENT WARNING: A dream about suffocating someone
Tommy has been adopted into a family of immortals. He doesn't know that. However, he's been having these weird dreams lately. all in different eras and times, he always had something similar to the name of Tommy, and his family was always there.
It seemed pretty normal as a dream, but what felt weird was that it felt like Tommy had really experienced them all. Sometimes, he'd notice his family's habits in his dreams also happen in real life.
What was even weird was that he was all different sizes. He remembered being so tiny that he could fit into Wilbur's palm and sleep in Phil's hat and being so big that even his tall brother, Techno, could barely reach his knees and fit all three of them in a single palm. Sizeshifter, they mentioned it multiple times.
Then, he actually sizeshifts in real life and realises maybe those dreams DID happen before. Are his family immortals? That could explain why they never have any baby pictures to show, and it could explain why not a single change formed in their faces. But, if they were immortals and he was a sizeshifter in nearly all of his lives, why did they never tell him?
One random night, and he suddenly shrinks down and realises maybe those dreams he was having… Maybe they DID happen before. Yet, the same questions run through him. Why did they never tell him their secret?
He has another dream, or.. a memory? He was a giant, not older than his age now, perhaps a pre-teen, holding Wilbur a bit too tight for comfort. His brother’s face was turning red as he wheezed out a beg for Tommy to let him go. Tommy wants to let go, this wasn’t right, but his gripped tightened and he heard him scream.
Tommy wakes up, sweat grossly sticking to his shirt and clinging to his skin, stray hairs stuck to his forehead and feeling just… gross and sweaty overall. His bed creaks, and he notices a height increase happened while he was asleep. That couldn’t have happened. It was a nightmare, not a memory- he could never hurt Wilbur!
But it seemed like such a plausible explanation. He injured and choked Wilbur, and now they’re afraid of him finding out what he truly is. A size-shifter who doesn’t know what he’s doing, out of control and wild, someone who can easily destroy them when ageing can’t. Tommy sits alone in his room, knowing that his family hates and fears him.
Wandering wanderlust, which travels to unspoken territory.
Ever since he was young, Philza had always known he was meant to travel across the world. Adventuring was deep in his blood. Nothing was going to take that away from him.
After an excruciatingly long period of healing, Philza decided to get back on his feet and take to the skies— in a more figurative sense and less in a literal sense. After losing his wings in a dangerous encounter with a monster, he made the wise decision to step away from his adventuring days and enjoy spending his time with his family back at home. But now, he’s back! As someone who lives and breathes adventure, it will take him more than the loss of flight to completely remove him from adventuring.
Instead of the sky, he takes his journey through the seas. With his life-long friend, Foolish, who loved oceans and seas, they travelled together and experienced different cultures of the world.
A strong storm almost knocked over their ship, but it was saved by someone… a giant merman? He's heard of merpeople, but never any written records about giant merpeople. They had no form of communication, but the merman would silently follow them on their trips, guarding them from other dangers of the sea. Philza and Foolish had thought it wanted something from them. Was it food? Was it treasure? Was it trying to trade food or treasure for the price of its protection?
They tried to give him gold, but the pink-haired merman gave back the exact amount a couple of hours later. They tried to give it different types of food— meat, greens, and fruits— but he refused it as well. He didn’t want any of their offerings, so why was he doing so much for them and wanting nothing in return?
Little does Philza realise, nearly two decades ago, he saved a little, pink-haired merkid from drying out and choking from plastic. The kid had found and immediately recognized him and is just merely paying back for saving his life.
How far could you go?
do you know how much i tried to generate an idea for this one but end up singing SEE THE LINE WHERE THE SKY MEETS THE SEA IT CALLS MEEEEEE AND NO ONE KNOWSS HOW FAR IT GOES!!!!!!! 🗣
anyway, it made me think of L'manburg as this borrower colony living deep in the woods. Tommy would be a Moana kinnie and absolutely try to leave and see beyond the wall of trees, but Wilbur is like, "hey girl its better here."
Something happens, and a magic jewel goes missing. That jewel is what kept the colony hidden from animals and humans. Tommy is determined to keep his home safe, so he runs away in the middle of the night to begin a search for the jewel. Then he meets this pink-haired guy along the way, and they sing songs and what can i say except you're welcome and they go together to return the jewel to the forest and found family things ensue!!!!!
My life is on the line, trust me, I know.
Cellbit has figured out someone has placed a hit on him. He doesn’t know who yet, but he intends to find out. Ever since he’s been paying more attention to the island’s… flaws and attempting to discover it’s secrets, he and his other Brazilian friends have been getting targeted more by the federation’s (not) lovely mascot, Cucurucho. It appears during random times, trying to gather information from them as discreetly as possible, often trying to enter their home to see the secret room Cellbit had set up to figure out what exactly the federation was hiding. He wants to immediately guess it was the federation that set a hit on him, but he’s not exactly so sure. What if it was someone else? One of his closest friends? One of his allies?
He barely even figured out that someone wanted him dead. At least, not until the last minute. It was late at night, and Cellbit couldn’t sleep. He wants to spend more hours studying his notes. Cellbit felt close to figuring out their secrets, but his son, Richarlyson, dragged him to bed, gently hitting his legs and pushing him to his room, encouraging him to get some rest. How could he say no to his son?
Still, hours later, as he lay in bed, his eyes were shut, yet his brain was restless. Even as he attempts sleep, his mind begins to imagine the corkboard and his notes.
Something was crawling on him. At first, he had thought it was a bug. He was wrong, no, it.. shuffled on his clothes with two legs. As the creature was right on his chest, he opened his eyes.
He was right. It was no bug… A half bug, maybe? It… He looked just like a human, except for the extra set of small eyes, six eyes, and big fangs that slid over his bottom lips, similar to a spider. Before the little… half-human thing could attack him, his hand shot out to grab his waist and lift him away from his neck.
Cellbit interrogated him and now knew him as Roier, a spider hybrid working as an assassin. He made an offhand comment about earning a large sum of money for his head. It wasn’t difficult to piece two and two together that someone wanted him dead, but who? And would Roier be convinced to work with him to figure it out?
Back to the corkboard, He thought.
do these make sense, or does my eepy brain make it make sense?
whew, i hope you enjoyed reading all that. i kinda got lazy somewhere in the middle, you wouldn't notice im too good at hiding it /sarc
“Flippa-“ The tears streamed rivers down his slimy cheeks, “I’m so happy I have you back, oh, my huevó, my darling.”
He sobbed, wrapping her shell in his arms, the goop dripping off onto her and oozing down her shell. She beamed towards her dad, contradicting feelings melting away at the moment of pure fatherly love. She leaned into the rare instance of touch, and it felt so different. Slime felt different.
He held her for minutes of end, showing no sign of backing off. He loved her. He needed her. He had to protect her now, forever, never let her go.
He would never let go of her again. He would keep her safe. Forever.
Slime hoisted his beloved daughter into his hands, lifting her as he stood upright. She stared up at him expectantly. And he gave a fond smile, gentle eyes watching over her lovingly, before he opened his mouth. She gazed in, looking over Slime’s teeth with confusion. Her questioning eyes were quickly answered when Slime was mere inches away from her face, and began pushing her eggself into his mouth. There was a wet schlop as she slid past the corners of his mouth, and had a direct view into the hole that was Slime’s esophagus. Flippa’s mind raced, confused, but trusted her dad’s intent. Something about the way he shoved her body further into him felt desperate, needy. As if he needed her, for once. Truly needed and loved her.
Slime pushed his daughter into his maw, hurting the sides of his mouth as his lips desperately tried to get around her. His body adjusted, sliding around her to fit, as his slime absorbed Flippa into his mouth. The river of tears came to a flood as his throat pushed out with Flippa’s newfound place there. Slime nudged the rest of her lower shell into him, pushing her tiny legs in, with the clack of his teeth coming down breathlessly. He panted and cried as he could feel his daughter squirming inside his gooping body. Her weight shifted ever so slowly into his stomach. The safe little space filling out and stretching painfully to make room for the beloved little girl. Slime’s stomach buldged out dramatically, a large hard stomach hiding his daughter away just below the surface.
Slime fumbled on his wobbly knees, falling back on his legs, his profound stomach dragging his weight to the ground. He breathed out deeply, shaky hands coming over his middle, feeling the hardness that was Flippa inside. He tugged up at his shirt, still struggling with air. As the clothing came up over his bump, he could see his beautiful daughter in view, the faint outlines of her shell just barely shown through his belly, green thick filter smudging the details. He could still make out her eyes, pretty pointed glasses sat on her face. Her eyes lit up with a certain blossom of happiness Slime clung onto immediately.
He gripped at his stomach, fingers tracing her figure underneath. She could hardly move around, and as claustrophobic as it was, Flippa seemed to take a liking to the tight constricted space, as it wasn’t anything to be afraid of. The tight room she was inside was Slime, right beside his booming heart. His daughter was safe, snuggled up inside him.
Slime chuckled as Flippa closed her eyes, Slime rubbing circles into his middle, comforting her. She dozed off to sleep, leaving Slime to watch his precious daughter rest.
He decided he might as well pull off a lullaby, and he hummed quietly, lidded eyes staring over her figure protectively.
She was sound asleep, probably the nicest sleep she’d ever had.
“I’m never letting you go, Flippa,” Slime promised, “you’re safe, forever now.”
And he would not let her go. Nor let her out. Flippa would be as protected as possible, carefully tucked away inside Slime’s stomach. Slime couldn’t help but feel like a pregnant mother, gripping at his baby bump and just wishing for life to treat his baby well. He hoped to satan or god or whoever that Flippa would never come in harms way again. That she would forever remain safe. That Slime could always save her.
