#anyway now i gotta put this on ao3 which i think is wayyy more toubke than its worth but whatevs

[dingbatnix]

Lasagna

Gosh dang you notice how weird that is to spell? English is so freaking weird you'd think there'd be a 'Y' in friggin 'la-za-nya' but no I guess not xD. Anyway, so I had some lasagna the other day and it was really good, + I had a small drabble floating around of Sapnap being able to survive being baked in an oven, sooooo this appeared!

O yeah taglist: @i-am-beckyu @brick-a-doodle-do @kayla-crazy-stuffs here you go @da3dm a bit late but oop xD

Also I did an art for this : D

Poor Sap, he is a frighten. Anyway.

Word Count: 2,686

Warnings: Fear of death, fear of being eaten, yeah that's about it. No actual noms this time, but it's very close ; D

The furnace was hot, and the quickly melting cheddar cheese was even hotter. Sapnap tried to wriggle, heart pounding heavily in his chest from the panic and adrenaline that was overwhelming his system, but it was no use. There were layers of pasta, cheese, and sauce weighing down his entire body, and he just could not move. Honestly, he was surprised he could breathe at all, what with the blanket of noodles over his head. He was lucky his earlier wriggling had created a pocket of air, even if it was only a small one.

Sapnap was…currently stuck. He hadn’t meant to fall into the pan of uncooked lasagna during a brief spell when the human had been gone. It was a total accident! He’d just wanted to grab some of the deliciously alluring cheese that was all over the top of the pasta, but he got startled when the human walked back into the room and had fallen in. Luckily, or unluckily, depending on which way Sapnap wanted to look at it, he’d fallen hard enough that he had been embedded deeply into the noodles, and he was fortunate the human hadn’t noticed the indent, but…the bean had proceeded to put more layers of lasagna over the top, trapping Sapnap underneath them.

Sapnap hadn’t been able to struggle free in time, and next he knew, the pasta, and more importantly, he, was put into the blazing hot furnace. The borrower bit his lip with a sharp canine, holding back a long whine of terror. It wasn't the fear of physical injury that was giving him such horrible anxiety, no, not that. Sapnap was born in fire, the heat didn't hurt him. No, it was the fear of discovery that locked his joints and seized his lungs. He didn’t know what was worse: The fact that he might be discovered, or the fact that there was the very real possibility that he might be accidentally eaten by an unaware human.

That, and also maybe the fact that there was a chance he would be impaled by a human's fork.

He wriggled again, sucking in another short breath, and squeezed his eyes shut. What a way to go out. It was a good thing he didn’t have any family left, a good thing there would be nobody to mourn him. He wouldn’t be able to live with…or, well. He couldn’t bear it if he were leaving anybody to fend for themselves, alone, in the world that was way too big for them. He’d feel awful.

It was a long, long forty minutes Sapnap was trapped in the maybe-a-little-too-warm oven. Sure, he was a nether-born, and he could swim in lava if he really wanted to, but that didn’t mean that it’d be good for him to do so. He’d get heat-sick.

The borrower was almost relieved when the pan was pulled out of the oven, but the overwhelming thought that none of this was over just yet crushed that feeling very quickly. He still couldn’t get free, the weight of all of the pasta on top of his body too much for him to move.

A thud jarred his body, and then he heard the human’s voice, too muffled and indistinct to make out, high above his head. Then, he heard a nauseating squelch as the lasagna was cut. Sapnap shivered, but didn’t have much time to dwell on it. To his utter, complete horror, the chunk he was stuck in was lifted free from the pan. He still couldn’t see anything, but he felt when everything was jarred again. Vertigo swirled through his head as everything started moving, and he had to try desperately to control his breathing and not burst out into terrified whimpering. 

Sapnap tried struggling again, but everything was still too closely packed, and the jarring movements of the human had made the pasta shift, all but burying Sapnap’s small pocket of air. He tried not to hyperventilate. He didn’t know if it’d be better or worse if he was found unconscious. Probably worse. There’d be no chance to run away if he were comatose.

He felt more than saw the tines of a metal fork scrape underneath him, spearing through one of the big flat noodles underneath his body. He felt a tine scrape along his spine, sending skin-crawling shivers wracking his body, and it took him only a moment to realize that the strap of his bag had been caught around the metal prong. He tried tugging at it as he was lifted up, but the leather was caught too tightly.

Sapnap looked up, chest heaving wildly, and a huge, gaping red maw filled his vision. His heart nearly exploded from the sheer terror, and his breath froze in his lungs. Those teeth were nearly as big as he was! 

The borrower jerked his limbs, attempting to jump off of the fork, but the strap of his bag and the congealed pasta held him stuck fast. He tried heaving himself up, but it was no use! A quick glance back up at his approaching death made his own mouth go dry. He was fire-retardant, yeah, but he wouldn't be able to survive being chewed to bits! 

Sapnap let loose a scream that could rival a phantom’s, sure he was about to die. Be it by the human’s teeth, or by the human’s hands, he wasn’t sure, but his doom was imminently approaching, and there was nothing he could do about it.

°°°°°°°°

George froze, fork midway to his mouth. The hand fiddling with his communicator stilled, and he glanced down with wide eyes, sure he had just heard someone scream. A flash of movement snatched his gaze to his forkful of pasta, and then all George could do was stare.

There was a tiny creature on his fork, tangled up in thick clumps of cheese and sauce. Its little chest was heaving, and its tiny teeth were bared in a fearful grimace as it met George’s eyes.

The creature tried to lunge off of the utensil, but the partially congealed cheese held it stuck fast. As George watched, he realized that the strap of its tiny bag was caught on one of the tines of his fork. A terrified noise escaped from the creature’s mouth, jolting the brunette out of his startled stupor.

George shrieked and dropped the fork, shoving back from the table and shooting to his feet. His communicator clattered to the table, forgotten in the brunette’s panic.

The creature gave another tiny scream of its own as it fell, wriggling and thrashing against the congealed pasta that held it hostage, but it didn’t seem like it was strong enough to break away.

It hit the table with a small, wet splat, snapping the strap of its bag and knocking it free from the fork, and then it was trying to scramble away, but cheese was still gluing its limbs together, even the tiny, tufted tail that trailed from its spine. George gaped, watching in bewilderment as the creature struggled to pull itself off of the table. It finally managed to free an arm, which spurred George into action.

He snatched up Dream's empty cup and slammed it down over the tiny creature, trapping it underneath the ceramic container. A tiny, muffled sound escaped from the mug as George yanked his hand back, staring down at it in disbelief. What the hell…?

"George? Everything okay?" Dream poked his head around the doorframe, concern creasing the shape of his brow. His eyes took in the mess on the table and George standing a good couple of feet away from it. 

"There's a tiny man under the mug." George mumbled, staring blankly at the overturned mug, and then up at Dream. The blond’s face scrunched up in bewilderment, and he looked at George like he had grown a second head. “What?” 

“There’s a tiny man under the mug,” George reiterated, pointing at the overturned pink mug for emphasis. His face suddenly screwed up in disgust. "It was in my food!" He exclaimed, waving his hands emphatically at the barely-touched plate of lasagna on the table. Dream had to hold back a small laugh.

Interest piqued, the tall blonde moved to the table and looked over the upside down mug curiously. It seemed normal enough…

Carefully, Dream wrapped a hand around the mug and quickly flipped it over, cupping his other hand over the top so whatever the creature was couldn’t escape and gently set the cup back down on the table. Slowly, he removed his hand, peering down inside of the mug to see what George was freaking out so much about.

Something was pressed up against the inside side of the cup, staring at Dream. Dream had to stop when he finally got a good glimpse of it, shock and disbelief coloring his expression. George was right. It–err, more namely, he, was just a tiny guy. He was incredibly small, maybe about two or three inches in stature. He had a long, thin tail like a mouse that faded to a rich brown at the tip, where a plume of dark fluff seemed to sprout. The fluff was still tangled and gunked up with pasta, but the little guy either didn’t notice, or didn’t care. Two pointed ears stuck out from the sides of his head, also dark at the tips. Those tiny ears were laid back against the little guy’s head, and were twitching rather frantically.

Miniature blue eyes stared back up at Dream, and the pure terror he could see radiating out of them was like a punch to the gut. Dream immediately felt bad for the little thing, and was quick to try and reassure him.

“Hey–” Dream started, but was quickly interrupted by George. "Why were you in my food?" The brunette demanded, stepping closer to the table and leaning over the ceramic cup to see the little creature better. He quailed under George’s gaze, his whole, tiny body trembling as his breath hitched up.

“George, you’re scaring him,” Dream cut in, dropping a hand over the shorter man’s shoulder and gently tugging him away from the mug. Seeing George’s petulant expression looming over him couldn’t have been too nice for the little guy.

“I’m scaring him?” George snapped with a scowl. “Well, I’m not the one who was in the freaking lasagna! I nearly had a heart attack!” He glowered at the tiny ravenette, crossing his arms and straightening up his spine.

"I just…I wanted some cheese, man! I'm sorry! I didn't mean to fall in!" The voice, quiet and breathless and shaking, was a surprise to both Dream and George, but it was nice to know that the little guy could speak, nice to know that he could understand them.

"Well...here," If all the little guy wanted was some cheese, Dream wasn’t going to just deny him any. That would be mean. The blond snagged a small plate from the clean dish rack and set it on the table, then scooped up a forkful lasagna and plopped it in the center of the new plate. He then reached towards the mug, intent on letting the little dude out so he could get some of the pasta. Before his hand was even close, the tiny man shrieked, throwing himself down to the bottom of the cup and shielding his head with his arms. Dream froze, shooting a concerned glance at George, who shrugged, uncertainly. Wh…why was the little guy so scared? It wasn’t like Dream was going to hurt him.

Dream stooped down a little bit, trying not to loom over the guy’s head so much, and dropped his voice down to a whisper. “Hey, it’s alright. You’re alright. I’m not gonna hurt you, okay?” The ravenette only whined, body shaking as his tiny, tufted, cheese-infused tail curled around his form. Dream frowned, and tried again, slowly reaching out to wrap his hands around the mug. “Do you…I’m going to let you out of the cup now, okay? Then you can have some of George’s lasagna. We’re not going to hurt you, little guy.” He assured again, trying to reiterate that everything would be alright.

Carefully, Dream lifted the mug and slowly tipped it over next to the plate of pasta, wincing guiltily when the tiny man uncurled from his ball with a yelp and tried to scramble back up the side of the mug. He slid out onto the table with barely a sound, and he stumbled backwards until the backs of his thighs met the rim of the plate. He tipped over, arms pinwheeling, but managed to land in a sit on the edge of the ceramic. He froze then, staring up at George and Dream while sucking in short, panting breaths of air.

“It’s alright, you’re okay,” Dream tried again, a flash of guilt flaring up in his chest. He and George weren’t…really that scary, were they? Dream hoped not. The tiny guy had nothing to fear from them.

While Dream tried to calm the small man down, George turned to one of the cabinets and pulled out a rag. The little ravenette was still caked in pasta, and it had to be annoying. He ran it under the faucet for a good few seconds, then turned back to the dinner table, where he saw that Dream had crouched down to be closer to eye level with the little guy. George set the warm, damp rag next to the tiny ravenette. “Here. So you can get all of that off you.” George offered. The tiny guy flinched away from George’s hand, but then hesitantly took up a corner of the rag and started working through the tangled mess of fluff and pasta at the end of his tail. George winced sympathetically as he sat back down. That looked like it hurt.

“So…do you have a name, dude? Or should we just keep calling you, ‘little guy?” Dream asked, leaning his elbows against the table as he slid into the chair opposite George’s. 

“S…Sapnap. I–my name is, is Sapnap.” The little guy offered, his tiny voice nearly a whisper. The two humans very nearly couldn’t hear it, and had to lean a bit closer to hear him properly.

“Were you…did I—were you in the furnace?!” George suddenly blurted, stomach twisting. He would have noticed if there was a tiny man in the pasta when he’d gotten some, wouldn’t he? Like if there was an indent or something, right? Maybe George had missed it. He hoped he had. There was no way the little guy would have survived being baked in the nearly four-hundred degree furnace.

“O-oh. Er, yeah, I was.” He seemed to notice the horrified expression of George’s face, because then he raised his hands and shook them disarmingly. “I–don’t worry, I’m fine! I was, I was born in the nether, I can take a little heat!”

George didn’t look like he fully believed him, and when he glanced at the other human, Dream, he looked mostly concerned, but Sapnap didn’t really care. It’s not like it mattered, right? It…they weren’t planning to stick him back in the furnace, were they? He tugged viciously at a particularly stubborn tangle and winced, pushing most of his thoughts to the backburner. He was alive, he wasn’t hurt, yet, and the humans seemed content to just watch him, for now. 

He couldn’t run away as he was right this moment. His bag was still tangled around the pasta-covered fork dozens of inches away, and there was still lasagna all over him, making it harder and harder to move as the cheese started to cool down and congeal. He’d…he’d have to escape later.

Sapnap hoped desperately to End that they weren't going to kill him after all of this. Maybe they just wanted to keep him as a pet…? Even though the thought was so distressing that Sapnap nearly whimpered, it’d be better than being outright killed. At least, if they kept him as a pet, at least he’d have a chance to escape. 

Eventually.