Archive of Our Own

"How do you work..." You mutter. You'd been studying the thing for the past month or so as a side project. You wanted to understand how exactly the miniaturization process of pokémon happened. Could it be triggered outside the pokeball? 

You toss the thing aside, groaning as you stretch. Your back pops loudly in response, clearly disagreeing with all the standing. You felt drowsiness coming on; the coffee you'd been chugging was starting to filter out of your bloodstream. You should probably drink something else.

You move across the room to a small kitchenette; it was what would be best described as tragically retro. Everything was a bit too outdated, but cohesive enough that someone probably found it charming. AZ, your partner, had had the thing installed because otherwise you'd forget to eat. You tended to get utterly enthralled by your work and everything else was forgotten. You pull out a green mug, filling it under the tap before taking a sip. Back to work, you supposed. Maybe you'd head up to bed in an hour or so.

You set your drink down, and your fingers seek out the pokeball again, clicking so that it opens and setting it nearby. It was time to test what you'd been working on, a small energy field that would replicate the environment inside a pokeball and allow for pokémon to be shrunk. You pop the ball into the machine. You'd designed it yourself, but AZ had helped with assembly. He was amazing with that sort of tinkering, though he said he didn't like to think about that particular skill.

You wince as a high-pitched noise is produced, buzzing in your ears so hard it stings. You grit your teeth, thankful the sound lasts only moments before the pokeball begins to emit a hazy golden light. It reminds you of headlights in the fog.

"That actually works," you gasp. You hadn't thought the first attempt would do something so spectacular. You reach out hesitantly, exhaustion clouding your judgement, until your hand basks in the glow. It's a little strange but not all that bad; it just tingles a little... Oh. Oh crap.

It was like you were being pulled by the wrist towards the center of the light; you pulled back, but it only served to jolt your back painfully. You close your eyes, bracing to hit the table, but the collision never comes. No, instead you find yourself floating above the table. The massive table. Wait, that wasn't right; why was the table so big? You feel your heartbeat quicken and your breath comes more rapidly. You kick your legs and flail your arms, but nothing happens. Oh, Arceus, what did you do? Why did you touch it? 

The good news, or perhaps bad news, is that the machine ran on a timer. And 10 minutes later, as it clicks off, you're free-falling back to the table. Well, you would be if you weren't directly above a certain green mug. You feel as if your organs are trying to escape through your head as you quickly descend towards the water. It feels like a great fall; you let out a startled scream, but it's really less than a foot.

The water is a shock to the system but not all that cold thanks to your subpar sink. Your clothes soak up the drink, weighing you down slightly. You cough, sputtering as water enters your mouth and you inhale a bit into your lungs. A part of you can't help but note how refreshing it feels to be in the water, but the louder part reminds you that you're smaller than Floette and trapped in a mug.

Your time in Alola doing your degree had taught you how to swim, and to swim well. So while you aren't in immediate danger, it was still concerning. How were you supposed to get out? You stare up at the ceramic green wall before you, slippery with water droplets. Even if you could climb it, it would definitely strain your already achy joints. So you were left with the option of waiting. Waiting for AZ to come down and shoo you upstairs as he always did when you failed to join him in bed.

~~~

AZ felt concern. He knew you tended to be utterly unreachable while you worked, but it was past midnight now. He'd already changed into a pair of sleep trousers and a dark undershirt and slid his feet into a pair of patchwork slippers. He sighed, running a hand through his loose hair. Better grab you before you passed out at the lab bench, he supposed.

He hated wandering the hotel at night, always certain his heavy footfalls would wake someone from Team MZ. Being so large really was a nuisance in AZ's humble opinion, but you always told him you liked it, so he supposed he could accept it for your benefit. His hand runs along the railing as he reaches the last set of steps. He holds the wood tightly, his left leg shaking slightly, knee particularly weak after a full day on his feet. 

As he enters the lab, AZ frowns, seeing nothing but empty space. He wonders where you would have gone at such an hour, surely not anywhere far. He spots the machine, unactivated but with a pokeball inserted. He sees the mug.

"Ma mie?" He calls out gently, his eye darting around the room as his head slowly swivels, "It's terribly late; you need to get some rest." He leans forward to rest his weight on the table, freeing his leg from its burden. He concludes you must have run to the restroom, because where else could you possibly be? He hums to himself, eyes closing slightly as he prepares to wait for your return. 

AZ coughs slightly as dry air catches in his throat; he absentmindedly reaches for the mug on the table and brings it up against his weathered lips.

~~~

You hear the footsteps coming down the stairs and feel relief. You're soaked to the bone and starting to shiver when the air hits the parts of you that aren't submerged. AZ is here, and you'll finally be saved, you think. Now you can return to regular size and go to bed. You'll change into your softest pajamas and wiggle under the covers before AZ can steal them all, leaning against him when he finally lies down next to you. His weight will dip the mattress, and you'll only fall further into him. All that's between you and that scenario is for him to pluck you out of the mug.

You open your mouth, trying to speak as loudly as you possibly can, "AZ! Over here!" But you know it's much softer than intended. You probably sound like a squeaky little Flabebe. 

"Ma mie?" You hear him call, and as he draws nearer, you can feel it deep in your bones. You gulp on instinct at the feeling of something so much larger than yourself approaching. "It's terribly late; you need to get some rest."

"The cup! In the water!" You try again, vocalizing with your whole chest. But any chance you had is quickly drowned out as he hums something. You love that song; it's one he says used to be popular in a time long before you were born. You've always loved it. But right now it only serves to cover up your attempts at getting his attention. 

You scrabble at the sides of the mug frantically; you need him to find you. You need him to rescue you. And for a moment you think he's noticed; gnarled fingers each larger than your torso begin to close in on the cup. But they simply grip the handle and bring it to his lips. You feel the adrenaline charging through every corner of your being, thoughts racing with fear. So much fear. Because it hits you with all the delicacy of a hammer that you're about to get eaten. AZ is about to open his mouth and you're going to tumble in whether you like it or not.

As the mug tilts up, you find yourself slammed against his lips. Your hands press against the thin Cupid's bow as you desperately try to push away. "AZ? AZ, please, please..." You whimper as you press further against his lips. The gentle lips that always kissed your forehead before bed each night. A part of you thinks it would be nice to be kissed by lips this large; they'd cover your whole body with his affection. But no, no. You couldn't think about that right now. You were in danger!

You yelp as his mouth finally opens and you are washed inside by the water. It's dark and damp, but somehow an improvement on the drink you'd been trapped in. His tongue is soft beneath you, supporting your delicate frame enough to rest your tensed muscles. The sudden warmth of AZ's mouth halts your shivering in its tracks, your body going limp without your say in the matter. You glimpse his teeth, and Arceus, are you glad you were in a drink, because you know they could smash you to a pulp if he chewed. Almost as quickly as you entered his mouth, you were sucked back into his gullet; clearly he was thirsty, clearing his mouth for another gulp. You try to grab on to the muscular surface below you, hands sinking into the bed of taste buds and finding no purchase. There was nothing you could do to stop yourself from being pulled downwards.

His esophagus is tight, but moves you efficiently. You're reminded that to AZ you're not even large enough to be a proper bite of food. No wonder he hasn't noticed your presence. The muscular tube flexes, its slimy surface pressing into your sides as it works you deeper and deeper. You try to look around, to see how near to the end you are, but the muscles hold you tight. 

The sudden sensation of a bass-heavy drumbeat shakes your body and tells you you've passed his chest. It nearly hurts, how loud it is, but the rhythm is familiar to you after so many nights lying against this very same chest. It amazed you that an organ could be so strong, so powerful, to make such a sound and to power such a man. When... If... You ever got out, you'd have to tell AZ how much you love his heartbeat.

You feel yourself squeezed even tighter before your legs dangle into a more open space. The rest of you follows smoothly until you're dropped from his esophagus and into a pool of liquid, hot and wet and stinging your skin just a little bit. This time it consists of whatever was in your partner's stomach. The dark pink walls flex and emanate a great groan followed up by a few small squelches. You can hear echoey sounds somewhere below you, probably the remnants of dinner that had come before you. You stand on shaky legs, darting over to the side of his gut and feeling the flesh there. It's hot, radiating heat like a furnace, and you instinctively lay your head against it. Heat had always helped your joints, and the warmth of the organ surrounding you was almost soothing. Really, the only thing keeping you from melting into the experience was the fact that AZ didn't know you were here. But what were you able to do about that? Not all that much. He would surely figure it out eventually.

You paw against the wall regardless, your panic receding but still present. You weren't food! You were his partner. His confidant. Though every sound from the innards surrounding you begged to differ. To AZ's body, you were just another morsel inside his belly, or at least you should be... But the acid doesn't burn as it should, and you don't seem to be getting churned up. Another inexplicable phenomenon of his body, but one you're incredibly thankful for. Because it meant maybe you weren't in danger after all.

You feel when he stands and begins walking around, sliding to the center of his belly alongside the warm, pooling liquids. A yawn breaks past your lips as you feel the soothing waves ripple around you. Right, it was late. 'Best enjoy it while I can,' you think, before collapsing into a more comfortable position and passing out.

~~~

AZ feels like he's swallowed a bug, hand coming up to massage his neck after taking a drink. He washes it down quickly, initially chalking it up to another strange sensation of his body. Those were all too common for him these days. His body was old and warped into something so far from what it was ever meant to be; tingling and pains were a part of life. 

He impatiently combs through his hair with his fingers, wanting you to reappear so that he can go to bed. His foot taps against the floor, creating an urgent rhythm that echoes in the lab for several minutes before he begins to grow more concerned again. He stands and paces before eventually finding the restroom and knocking softly, "Hello? Are you feeling alright?" Silence. He doesn't want to walk in on you, but he also worries you could be feeling ill, so he cracks open the door. Empty.

Well, that was bad. AZ is starting to panic, having no clue where you possibly could have gone. He feels a small cramp in his stomach, like something not sitting right, and gives his belly a small rub, "Not right now..." He mutters. He could deal with that later; he needed to find you. He turns back to the pokeball still sitting in the machine, brow furrowing and creasing his face with deep lines of concentration. You were distractible, but not when you were working on your projects; you wouldn't just leave it there. Had you turned it on? Had it worked? 

He looks to the machine, to the pokeball, and to the mug on the table.

Oh. 

OH. 

AZ stumbles into the nearest chair, practically falling into the old seat, eyes wide and staring at his abdomen. He pokes and prods it with a terribly distressed expression gracing his normally neutral features. His eye continues to dart around the room. 

The machine. The pokeball. The mug.

He glances down at his belly and lets out a sudden panicked wail, more like a Pokémon than a man. His shaky hands grip the slight chub around his middle and he suddenly feels like he's drowning. He had hurt you, surely he had. 

"Mon cœur?" He croaks, "Can you hear me in there?" He's only answered by a small groan from his innards.

His face crumples and he closes in on himself; he cups his belly protectively. But it won't protect you, not when he's the danger. No, in his mind the only monster here is him. His body. Best case, you must be trapped and utterly terrified; he can't bear to think of what else might have happened beyond that. Oh Arceus, what had he done to you?

His pulse thrums in his ears, his breath coming in short pants as his eyes begin to water. The normally composed man feels so entirely helpless. He tries again to prod his belly, this time with slightly more force, "Are you there? Réponds-moi!"

~~~

You're startled awake by the sensation of the wall next to you pressing in, and an urgent broken voice echoing around you. Your first instinct as you recognize the speaker is to reach out and squeeze his hand, or his fingers, given that's all you could ever fit in your palm. But when your eyes flutter open, you're only greeted by darkness and slick fleshy walls. You'd slept so deeply, better than you had in weeks, that you hardly remembered where you were or why you were there. 

Stomach. Right.

The organ around you clenches, seizing up in time with a shuddering sob. Your very self cries out in response to hearing AZ so distraught, and you quickly try to comfort him. Hands roam across whatever you can reach, massaging small circles into his belly from within. You pay little attention to the gurgles and groans of his guts, only focused on the quiet sobs and racing heart above you. 

"I'm okay, I'm right here." You whisper against him. You know he can't hear you, but you vocalize it all the same. "I'm not mad, I'm not scared. It's actually... Really nice in here." You hope desperately that your fingers feel good against his stomach, that he recognizes them, recognizes your touch, even so small.

AZ shudders, but the cries shift into something more surprised and relieved than anything. You can picture how his bangs fall across his usually visible eye, how strands of white stick to his tear-streaked face in the most unbecoming of ways. The perfect gentleman, reduced to a trembling, terrified mess.

"Mon cœur?" His shaken voice comes from all around you. You wonder how long he's been calling out while you were asleep. Poor thing, he sounded lost.

You want to throw yourself at him. Yes! Yes, you were here, and you were fine. You were comfortable, actually! You settle for opening your arms to hug the surrounding walls as best you can. The rumbles don't scare you, not after having such a comfortable experience, not after being totally unharmed. You want to tell him that. Tell him that even when he didn't know you were there, his body took care of you.

~~~

AZ gasps when he feels it. It's not a panicked clawing but a soft touch inside him. Were you okay? You had to be okay; he couldn't live with himself if you weren't. And this? This was confirmation. Right? He pulls up the bottom of his shirt, revealing pale skin with a thin layer of white fuzz trailing below his naval; he watches intensely. A minute shift, but a shift all the same, greets his waiting gaze. He lets out a stilted huff, wiping his face with the back of his hand. He feels the small weight shifting and can't help but blush as he realizes he enjoys the sensation. 

The man stands, each step cautious of shaking your form within him. He's scared that if he walks normally, he'll startle you, or throw you across his belly. He makes his way to the kitchenette; his hands shake as he goes to plug the sink. He needed to rescue you, needed to get you out. One hand drifts down to massage his abdomen, to remind you that he's keeping you in mind. 

"I am simply preparing to g-get you out." He coughs to cover the way he stutters over his words. AZ prides himself on being well-spoken, and even in distress he can't excuse himself for the slip. "I apologize for all this. And I apologize for what you're about to experience."

~~~

It's a funny feeling to go backwards up an esophagus, but not the worst thing. It lasts only a minute or two before you tumble into a large soft surface. Hands. You fall into his hands. 

Looking upwards, so far upwards, you finally see his face for the first time in all of this. His eye is red, and his lips are downturned further than you've ever seen them. His hair is mussed, sticking to his cheeks and falling haphazardly around his shoulders. He looks over you like a statue, a colossus of old, and it takes your breath away.

"Hey..." You speak. AZ just stares back at you, eye darting around, checking you over. But when your voice finally registers? It's so out of place, so very you, that it earns a startled laugh from the giant.

He leans closer to you, hair falling around his hands and blocking out the rest of the world, "I cannot... I do not... Are you alright?"

"I'm okay, I promise." You run your fingers across the skin beneath you soothingly, so reminiscent of how you touch him from inside. "Please look at me, AZ. I'm okay."

His eye is still tinted with despair, the touch of former tears still lingering. "You cannot possibly be 'okay.' You must be terrified, certainly..." He trails off.

"Come closer." You ask gently, waiting as his head descends until you're almost touching. You vividly remember those lips opening up to gulp you down, but now you follow them to the corner of his mouth to plant a kiss. "I'm not scared of you. Scared of the situation, scared of being so small, but not of you."

AZ freezes at your touch, at your words. He cannot believe it. "Ma mie..."

"It was actually kind of nice. Once I got used to it."

"You cannot be serious..."

"As a heart attack, AZ."

His expression has migrated from distress to sheer disbelief. But he has to believe it, because he knows you wouldn't lie to him. You never lied to him. He looks like he wants to respond but only opens and closes his mouth a few times.

You yawn, stretching your arms out and flopping back into his hands; your nap wasn't enough, apparently. You look up at your partner with big pleading eyes, "Can we fix me in the morning? I just want to sleep."

~~~

AZ had rinsed you under the tap and let you change out of your sopping wet clothes. You'd wrapped yourself in a clean washcloth, surprisingly soft. AZ refused to let you go anywhere like this, terrified you might be stepped on, misplaced, or, Arceus forbid, swallowed again. Instead, he held you to his chest and carried you to bed.

The scent of him filled your nostrils, something adjacent to smoke, coffee, and old books. You could lay there forever and be content. As he settles into the bed, you wriggled your way onto his neck, legs tangling in his long hair. He seems just as exhausted from all this as you are, or perhaps just because it's so horribly late. 

Maybe this whole ordeal was worth it, you think. 

Because you trusted him. Because you loved him. 

All in all, you'd had a good time.

Though AZ may need a bit more convincing of that fact, it could wait until morning.