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kodared · 2 months ago

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✰ Stanford & Borrower/Anomaly Reader ✰

fears not enough they have to tear him apart.

Chapter 3/?

Wordcount: 2,557 / 7,296

➤ 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! - ★

!!! CONTENT WARNING FOR VIVID DESCRIPTION OF PANIC ATTACKS. !!!

...

More than anything you wanted to get away from this human. Your hands finally weaseled their way out of his vice grip as you pushed at his fingers that held down your body. His thumb still pressed across your shoulders painfully as you tried to pry him off.

“Let GO!-“

Ignoring his question you let out a strangled cry, if you weren’t so frantic and lightheaded you might have believed the expression on his face to be pure shock and awe.

“I'm afraid I can't do that, you'll just take off running and I would like to ask you a few questions,”

That was the point of being put down you quipped back in your head. Your voice lost among your emotions as you screamed internally, not wanting to give this scientist the satisfaction of a response. Your hands still pushing at his digits that curled uncomfortably around you. It was pathetic really. Being able to be pinned by the simple act of being held. His grip wasnt even all that tight anymore, adding insult to injury.

The sheer power the human held over you just by existing made you dizzy and nauseous.

He seemed to be lost in thought as he watched you push and practically claw at his pointer finger. He made no move to pin your hands down again so you assumed you weren't doing much damage to your dismay.

That damned jar once again was lifted and set on the desk, before you could stop it you felt his hand tilting so your legs faced the opening.

You tried to stop it by pushing a foot on the rim, but it was no use. All it took was Ford letting go and gravity pulled you down into the glass with a small thud.

Your injured ankle took the brunt of the force, making you stifle a scream as you landed painfully into the glass. All the while the human just pulled his journal closer and wrote.

Stumbling on your feet you leaned against the front of the glass, your hands balling into fists as you hit the thick and cold glass.

“There, now that I'm not holding you does that help?”

It almost made it worse. Atleast he wasnt picking up the jar and taking you down into his lab.

He wasnt speaking, keeping his eyes trained on you and your heaving form. You could feel the beads of sweat practically rolling down your face.

You were stressed. You could feel the buzz of a panic attack under your skin, your fists no longer hitting the glass as you tried to calm your frantic breathing.

Standing was too much to ask of your body too it seemed as your knees buckled and you fell into the cold floor again.

You only realized Ford was still speaking to you when you finally looked back up and saw almost a panicked expression on his face. Your ears rang painfully loud as you tried so hard to focus on what he was saying.

Ultimately it didn't matter because right as you started looking up at him he seemed to panic more. Helpless to stop him you watched as he stood from his desk and you physically recoiled. Half expecting him to pick up the glass and take you down to his lab the moment you stopped being useful.

He didn't do that though to your surprise. He just left the room. You thought that would calm you down but it didn't, the panic in your chest still raged on.

The once uncomfortable buzz under your skin had now circled its way to your lungs. Your breathing was labored and frantic, the only comfort coming from the freezing glass walls of your prison as you pressed against it.

Small droplets of tears glided down your face, leaving an uncomfortable dryness in their wake. You curled up as small as possible, your knees pressing to your chest.

You had been caught.

Your fate was sealed.

He would drop you off at some lab for more testing if he didn't do it himself. He was probably calling someone to get you now.

Unbeknownst to you at the moment he was making a call, but not a call to any scientist. He was making a call to the most brilliant mechanic he knew for help.

…

It felt like it took forever for the human to come back. You didn't exactly trust your time perception at this moment though, he could've only been gone for a few minutes for all you knew.

You stayed curled in your tight ball as you heard him sit back down at his desk. Your body is tense and awaiting him to do something. He was most definitely looking at you, no doubt writing whatever he could into his journal.

You didn't look at him. Straining your still ringing ears to try to pick up anything that could clue you into what he was doing.

You could most definitely hear his pen scratching away at a page in his journal. He wasnt speaking to you directly which wasnt as big of a relief as you thought it would be.

Why did he leave the room? That was your biggest question in all honesty.

A few more moments of silence passed between the two of you. The only sound was your strained breathing that you doubted the human could hear anyway.

Your shoulders tensed as his voice was once again reverberating around you. Still in a whisper despite how loud it was regardless.

“...It didn't seem to have any claws, how would It have survived in the wilderness.. Does it have some sort of venom? No, if it did-”

…Ah. Muttering to himself. Honestly, the mark of someone who was completely sane was when they mumbled to themselves.

You screwed your eyes shut as you blocked out what he was saying. Especially when he insisted on referring to you as an ‘it’.

You were about to yell at him, to tell him to shut up when your ears heard a loud knocking coming from the front door.

So he had called more scientists after all.

The creaky wooden chair he sat on squealed against the hardwood floor as he stood. Your hands clamping over your sensitive ears before the panic that had just begun to dissipate picked back up tenfold.

His hand reached for the jar.

Denial.

There was no way he was just going to turn you into the others so quickly. He had only just discovered you. Surely he hadn't taken enough notes yet to be satisfied.

You reeled backward, your ankle screaming its protests as well as your lungs. The oxygen your brain craves so much is being exhaled much too quickly to be fully processed.

His hand closed around the Jar. Making your body sway unsteadily as you saw the desk below you rising. The glass flooring heavily disorients you.

Anger.

What reasoning did he have to uproot you from your life? You weren't harming anyone. You were being turned into some scientist to experiment on you just for being born. You hadn't asked for this.

You had just as much control over being born a borrower as he had being born a man. You didn't choose this life.

Your hands hit against the glass as more tears began to go down your face. Hitting the floor of the jar with a faint clink.

The human seemed none the wiser to your protests. His other hand going to cover the top of the jar as he swiftly left his room.

Bargaining.

Your whole body was shaking. The desperation finally made you find your voice as it cracked.

“Let me out!- I'll talk!- I can-... I can tell you more! Don't you want answers? I can give answers!-”

You rambled to yourself through choked sobs. The reality of your situation hits you like a ton of bricks.

The human didn't stop walking to the main room. You both were now at the stairs when he finally acknowledged you.

“We can all talk in a moment,”

His voice was smooth as if he was zoned in on one task and one task alone.

Depression.

The realization that you couldn't stop him put a new weight on your chest as you fell into the glass wall. Not from your shaky legs surprisingly. The human just wasnt holding the jar with the most care it seemed.

You tried to put on a brave face as he set your glass prison on the kitchen table. You were back where it all started.

You should've been more careful that night. He should have never seen you. You should have never moved into this cottage. More than anything you regretted not being able to see your family again.

You could hear the front door open as a second pair of footsteps joined Ford in the kitchen.

You prepared yourself for the worst. So when you looked up and met the eyes of his colleague you stilled.

“...You put them in a JAR?-”

You hadn't expected that.

Ford seemed shocked at his assistants' outburst. Floundering for an excuse.

“It was the best option! It didn't want to be held and if I put it down it wouldve-”

You could only imagine how rough you looked based on how the other human's expression softened when you flinched at the humans raising their voices.

The other scientist Ford invited over had a very thick Southern accent. You never really heard an accent like his unless you counted the shows Ford occasionally played much too loud.

Thinking back on it this human might have made him watch said shows.

He took his thin-framed glasses off and pinched the bridge of his nose. Agitated with his companion.

“You called sayin’ they looked ill, it's not hard to see exactly why.”

It clicked in your head now. Ford must've seen your panic as some sort of illness rather than the emotional trauma he was inflincting.

“I wasnt causing it any harm! It even understands English, do you know how big of a find this is!”

Ford was trying his hardest to explain his reasoning to Fiddleford. He only wanted answers from the smaller being. Fiddleford put his glasses back on and directly addressed the creature in the jar.

You watched as he crouched down by the table, causing you to push yourself backward. Pressing against the glass as hard as you possibly could to put distance between the two of you.

“M’terribly sorry for all this. Do you have a name? Mines Fiddleford. Fiddleford Mcgucket,”

He didn't reach for the jar, he didn't even get closer to examine you. He just sat still, patiently waiting for you to respond.

Ford interjected.

“I already tried talking to it directly, but it gave me no response apart from when we were on the stairs and it was just babbling-”

“y/n.”

Both the humans in the room froze at your weak voice. Of course, it was rough and scratchy from your prior sobbing, but they heard it regardless.

“Thats.. That's my name.”

You could see the way Fiddlefords mouth pinched into a small smile. Almost one of pride at being able to get a response from you.

Ford didn't look upset, but he most definitely wasnt pleased at the thought of the creature preferring Fiddleford over him. After all, he had been the one to discover it, it should want to talk to him.

“Pleased to meet ya, I would offer you a handshake but… Well, I doubt you'd be able to shake more than my pinky”

His chuckle soothed you slightly. Your chest still felt tight, reminding you of just how terrible you looked probably as you wiped your tears away finally.

You even caught yourself trying to smile out of politeness before resting your shaking hands in your lap.

You could see the way Fiddlefords eyebrows pinched together in concern.

“Do ya need any water? How long have you been in there?”

“I uh-”

Neither of the humans heard you as Ford stepped forward again and let out a sigh.

“I’ve only had it in there for an hour or so, if we let it out it could run.”

It most definitely felt longer than an hour. Time must’ve been moving faster since you were in such a panic.

Your body instinctually tensed up as Ford stepped closer. Making Fiddleford finally snap as he stood from his crouch.

“I need a word with you alone,”

He didn't even wait for Ford to respond before yanking him by the sleeve out of the room. Leaving you alone once more as you heard the front door slam.

…

“Ford. Ya can't just trap someone in a jar and expect them to be okay. Mentally and physically speakin’.”

Ford was being actively chewed out and by his assistant no less.

He crossed his arms across his chest defensively. His hands tightened on his forearms.

“I never hurt it! I only asked it a few questions, even the Gnome was calmer than it!”

“The Gnome was an entirely different situation! You asked him if he wanted to come with you! You just found this… What did you call them?”

“Parva persona.”

Fiddleford ran a hand through his hair before reaching into his jacket and pulling out his tobacco. Ignoring the way Ford groaned to himself as the mechanic put a bit in his lip.

“Whatever. Not their name anyway. And while yer’ at it quit callin’ them an it. It's dehumanizing.”

Ford unfolded his hands and threw them in the air before gripping the railing of his porch.

“Exactly my point Fiddleford! They’re not human! It's abnormal! By all rules of science, it shouldn't even be possible for something as small as it to exist!”

Fiddleford spit a bit of his chewing tobacco off the porch before slowly getting more agitated with his partner. He could be so smart but so dumb most of the time.

“What makes something deserving of basic decency Ford? Because ill tell ya’, its normally when they look human but smaller and can speak English. I think you even treated the Gnome with more dignity! You didn't trap him in a jar!”

Ford didn't quip back saying he did put the gnome in a cage after questioning it for a few days to research it. He just sighed and looked off into the woods.

“...I just don't want my discovery to run off if we let it out. If it runs I don't think ill get another opportunity for answers.”

“Why not just talk to them? M’sure you could get them to hang around, you’d just have to accept getting answers slowly. An while yer at it stop puttin’ em in jars.”

…That might work. If Ford could make some sort of connection with it he could get more answers than just interrogating it in the jar. Ford could see the look in his eyes and before he could stop it the other man was already going back into the cottage.

With a heavy groan, Fiddleford spat out the last of his tobacco off the porch into the grass before following him.

He had a feeling this would be a long night with no sleep. For both him and the creature in the jar.

. . .

TAGLIST: @i-am-tiredd

Thank you so much for reading!! More updates soon :)

#gravity falls #stanford x anomaly reader #stanford pines x reader #fiddleford mcgucket #fiddleford mcgucket x reader #g/t #borrower reader #size difference #hurt/comfort #angst with a happy ending #giant/tiny #stanford pines x anomaly reader #young stanford pines #chapter 3 #fears not enough they have to tear them apart

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suzukiblu · 2 months ago

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Thank-you sentences for u-h-h-g-h behind the cut; Billy adopts Conner and it actually goes pretty good! (( chrono || non-chrono ))

. . . wait, actually, is he gonna have to start reading biographies and historical stuff? He’s a dad now. The other dads are gonna expect him to know stuff about the Civil War and World War II and, like, lawnmowers and how to grill, aren’t they. His dad didn’t even grill, Mom did! Dad always got distracted by his book or something and let the hot dogs burn!

Billy is not optimistic about his capacity to mow a lawn, though at least they’re in an apartment. Like–probably somebody handles that, right? That’s gotta be a thing, doesn’t it?

. . . he should check with Batman about that, maybe.

. . . . . . and also figure out what the wisdom of Solomon knows about how grilling works.

Or, uh–work on the focus thing, maybe. Definitely the focus thing. It’s just–it all feels like so much, and Billy doesn’t wanna mess up and wreck Lynn’s whole entire life and make him miserable forever or ever make him feel like any of those foster “families” and social workers ever made him and just about all the other kids he knew in the system feel or–

Billy wonders if he could maybe find a god to talk to about asking to borrow, like, the forethought of Apollo or the precision of Arachne or the strategy of Ariadne or something sometime (though definitely not the concentration of Atalanta, because one golden apple and he’d be right back where he started). Like if he could maybe swap it out with the stamina of Atlas or the courage of Achilles when he needs to, that’s all. Just when it’s, like, situationally useful or whatever.

. . . he’s really not doing a good job with this focus thing at all, yeah. Which he’s pretty sure he’s thought a few times now already, too, just–

He’s just really nervous, still. He’s really glad Lynn doesn’t hate him or think he’s lame, but he could still totally do something that’d make Lynn hate him or think he’s lame and–

Focus.

“Want me to serve?” Billy offers, pointing at the plates. “I mean I know I don’t know how much you need to eat yet, but neither do you, and I’ve seen a lot more people eat than you have, sooo . . .”

“. . . you’ve seen Superman eat?” Lynn asks, looking–uncomfortable, briefly, and looking down at the plates in his hands. Billy’s gonna have to start finding stuff for him to look at instead of people, he’s pretty sure. Like, little puzzles Lynn can be messing around with or little crafts he can be doing or something, so people just figure that’s why he’s not making eye contact with them and not, like, him being antisocial or something.

“Oh, yeah, tons of times,” Billy says, since that’s a valid question and all, considering actually the way big majority of the people he’s seen eat were human and Lynn is actually not, so actually that might not be helpful anyway. Superman’s diet would be way more useful to know about. But the problem there is–“But like, I don’t ever really know if he really needs to be eating or if he’s just doing it to be polite? ‘Cuz I do that sometimes, definitely. But also sometimes it’s just ‘cuz something looks good? So yeah, I dunno. I’ll have to ask him when I get a chance, maybe I can catch him after the next League meeting. Or I guess I could email him, I guess that’s a thing . . .”

He doesn’t really use his League email or messaging accounts or anything like that, like, basically ever, but Batman did give them the phones and all, so he’s not gonna have to go to the library to do it anymore, sooooo . . .

Lynn doesn’t say anything; just keeps his eyes down and on the plates he’s still holding. Billy tries not to frown. Lynn doesn’t talk much or make eye contact all that much, so far, so it’s not like it’s new. Just–he doesn’t know, really. He’s still got this weird feeling like something’s wrong, all of a sudden.

#billy batson #conner kent #captain marvel #shazam #superboy #young justice #young justice animated #wip: billy adopts conner and it actually goes pretty good!#u-h-h-g-h

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