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i-am-beckyu · 4 months

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One Small Gift

HELLO! I TOLD YOU I'D POST ONE MORE FIC THIS YEAR! And I am very proud of myself for making it a Christmas centered fic! I can't believe it's actually been a year since I last posted a Christmas fic. Like where did the time go and how did this thing spawn?

I'm gonna ramble a bit more at the bottom of this fic about me and the community but lets not hold you up any longer so I give you: The Christmas Fic- One Small Gift :3

cw: fear, death mention (but no actual death), lying, panic and anxiety, fluff- Like, ALOT of Fluff, hidden identity and of course happy endings. You know, the usual angst/fluffy Beckyu fic :3 word count: 8351

Disclaimer! This story is based on the characters of the Dream SMP and not the real life content creators. Anything that occurs in this story is purely fiction and should be treated as such. Thank you.

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Cold

Why did the walls always have to be so damn cold?

Tommy’s mind couldn’t help but linger on the thought, as the Borrower shivered making his way through the maze that was the inside the house walls.

Human Beans invented heaters AGES ago for the insides of their houses to keep warm, so how was it that the inside of the walls were still always so flippen freezing?

Would it kill them to think of the little guy freezing their butt off just once?

Well no, maybe not. But it certainly would Tommy.

As much as the young blonde would love to cuss at the home owner for not giving him a proper source of heat, the Borrowers code quite literally FORBID them from ever telling a Human of their existence. Not to forget the fact that it would mean doom for a borrower if they ever did. All the horror stories of Borrowers being squished or experimented on from the elders to go off being proof enough.

Death by Human Beans?

HA! Absolutely NOT!

That’s exactly the reason why he is trying to get supplies for the Winter to warm himself up, before it gets even colder!

Tommy grumbled to himself as he ducked and weaved past forgotten cobwebs about how it was such a pain to be in this position in the first place. He’d had a perfectly fine home in a tree nook in the forest that had always remained nice and cosy warm during the colder months.

Even if that meant he’d been living on his own, Tommy had been happy living as an Outie borrower for as long as he could remember. Well at least he had, before some tall, pretentious brunette freak decided his home would be the perfect tree to cut down and drag all the way back to his stupid freezing cold house.

But it gets better, because even though the main part of his home was actually still intact under the now stump, the Bean still took the top half of the tree-

With Tommy still inside it!

They flippen took HIS house and wrapped it in a net; effectively trapping the poor borrower and then strapped it to the top of their car and drove hours and hours to a Human Town with him hanging on for dear life.

And that’s not even the worst part because not only did the flippen Bean steal part of his house, but then they had the audacity to cover the tree's dying corpse in fancy decorations and shining lights.

Like seriously WTF?!

A Bean kidnaps him from the only place he’s ever really known and covers his once thriving residence all merrily in ornaments, while he’s forced to flee his only real known place of safety with nothing but the clothes on his back, and the few supplies he did have stored in the upper levels of his now dying home. He hadn’t wanted to leave, but it was the only choice he really had.

Stay in the tree and get caught, or try and survive in the Beans' walls until Winter passes.

He chose the latter of course- (It’s not like staying would have helped him anyways)

Getting down from the top of the tree had been, well- less than a fun time for the Borrower. The big purple bruises across his back were a throbbing reminder from his impact on the floor at times, but he managed.

Instead, Tommy had started to navigate his temporary ‘soon to be home’ in the walls getting an idea of the layout and where the best places were to borrow from. He just had to make it through the Winter and then he could go home. Trying to get back to his nook now would be impossible with all the snow cover on the ground, but he’d get back to the forest even if it killed him.

Which might be the case soon if he doesn’t get some new clothes and heat source quick.

That was the main issue with being kidnapped after all. You only have what’s on your back and well, Tommy hadn’t exactly been expecting to get yoinked away in his scrappy T-Shirt and shorts. He had proudly made them himself with the few scraps of fabric he’d managed to find from some Beans that had been passing through years ago on a camping trip, but the fabric was light, and not made to be worn in such cold conditions.

He’d only meant to go up and check what the heck the loud thumping outside his tree was like any normal person. He was expecting a deer or maybe a bear using it as a scratching post, not a Bean cutting their house down and taking him along with it. You don’t exactly have time to think about putting on proper clothing when your everything is at stake.

So that was step one: Find some material and make some clothes- a jacket the top priority.

Tommy is very thankful that he had his borrowing bag on him, that he still has his self made needle and some old thread so he at least didn’t have to start from nothing. Finding the material hadn’t been too difficult to locate either. When he first scouted the place, he discovered pretty quickly that the Bean had a habit of leaving stuff all over the place, so borrowing supplies hadn’t been difficult to do without being noticed. It’s how he found the most perfect fluffy woollen red sock to make a coat and blanket from. He would already have it now though if the Bean hadn’t come back before he could swipe it.

The Borrower had tried to come back for it later, but the Bean had decided it was time to clean their room up because he had some guests coming for this thing called ‘Chris-mass’- whatever that was- and the sock was gone.

So instead he grabbed what he could and made his way back to the walls with just enough fabric to make a new pair of pants and some crackers for dinner.

But it still didn’t fix the whole freezing situation.

What Tommy really needed was a candle.

To a Human Bean it may seem to be an insignificant source of light, but to a Borrower it could literally be the difference between a warm nights sleep and becoming a Borrower popsicle! But that was easier said then done because all the usual spots Beans would normally keep candles, were replaced with flippen electric ones!!!!

What’s wrong with fire on candles!? Why would you want a fake candle that just flickers and produces less light than a real one?

That or something for a bed. At least that way he’d have a comfortable place to sleep and trap his own body heat.

He really wishes he could have taken those socks…

As if this Bean wasn’t bad enough, not only did they lack the materials Tommy so desperately needed, but they wouldn’t shut up talking into the black box (a fone he thinks it’s called from memory) to other Beans with how excited they were about them coming to stay for the Hole-lid-days and spend time huddled together by the fire or something dumb.

“Come on Dad! Let me host. If you let me host, I’ve got the coolest surprise planned for you and Techno I swear!! Plus don’t you want to come and see me?”

Lucky prick. Got a Dad and a brother…

Now don’t get him wrong, Tommy is a big man, if not the biggest man to ever exist and he doesn’t need anyone. But he also couldn’t help but long for someone to share the cold season with like the Beans did. It had been so long since he’d seen another Borrower like himself and though he’d never admit it, living alone did get a little bit lonely sometimes. It would be nice if just once he could share a night cuddled up close to a loved one, and just bask in each other’s company.

But Tommy didn’t have time to be sentimental about things he’d likely never have.

He needed to find a way to stay warm and get warm now.

But the universe decidedly hated Tommy because, tonight was apparently December 24th-

Chrisymiss Eve.

Tommy had been here about a week or so and in his short stay still wasn’t 100% sure what this whole Khrislermas was, but it appeared to be a BIG deal to the Beans.

Apparently, all the Beans get together whether it’s family or friends to spend time together and exchange gifts. It’s about being thankful for what you have or whatever and something about showing how much you love someone by giving and receiving presents.

Tommy thought it was actually quite a nice thing the Beans did and wished that Borrowers had something similar themselves in their culture. However, there was one thing he still didn’t quite understand about this whole holiday thing.

Who the heck is Santa Claus?

He’d been taking some more crackers the Bean had left out from the kitchen while this ‘tv show’ played on the Bean's big Black box that was talking about this Santa guy. Apparently, he was some elusive, big fat man, dressed all in red with a big white bushy beard, who climbed down the Beans chimneys, and left gifts for all the little boys and girls of the world. He had this list too that knew if you’d been naughty or nice and would leave the good children gifts and the bad children coal in their stockings.

Children could write letters to Santa or he’d visit and children could sit on his knee and ask him for a gift they would like and he would deliver the toys to children all over the world on Christmas eve when everyone was sleeping, only to have disappeared by daybreak.

Tommy hadn’t thought much of this Santa at first- not when it was just another Bean to avoid. That was until he learned two very important details.

1- Santa delivered presents to ALL children of the world.

And 2- Santa wasn’t meant to be seen by Humans either.

So not only did this Santa guy literally just give out free gifts, but Tommy literally had a way to get exactly what he needed for the winter!

All he needed to do was talk to Santa and he’d be saved!

Now you might be thinking: But Tommy, you said it yourself. Santa isn’t meant to be seen by anyone so what makes you the exception?

Simple.

Borrowers aren’t meant to be seen by Beans and neither is Santa.

Which means just like Borrowers, Santa must not want to be caught (which if he thinks too hard about it makes sense since he literally breaks into houses but anyways) and unlike with Beans, there is no rule that says Borrowers can’t see Santa!

All he has to do is wait for Santa to visit Crystamas eve, and then he can ask for his gift! Santa probably even knows what he wants, being made of magic and all! He just never knew Santa existed so he’s never asked for his gift before!

If he were a more greedy Borrower, he could ask for so much more to make up for all the years he never got a gift, but that would probably put him on Santa’s naughty list. And while coal would be good, Tommy doesn’t exactly want to burn the house down with him inside it. So this was his best shot to get exactly what he needed.

The hard bit though, was waiting for Santa to arrive. That meant not only having to be out in the living room where the fireplace was, but also meant he had to wait for the Bean to fall asleep. Which really meant that it would be AGES before Santa would come because the Bean of the house was terrible at sleeping at night.

The man literally had no sleep schedule and would stay up till terrible times in the morning before drifting off. Normally that wasn’t much of an issue for the Borrower having observed this early on, but right now it was very much a hindrance because it could be hours before they went to bed.

It also seemed that they wouldn’t be sleeping anytime soon, because the amount of energy and excitement the Bean had displayed the whole day about his family coming home was overwhelming. He’d come home at one stage with this big bag of stuff talking on the black box about how his super cool surprise was coming along and how it would be awesome since they let him host Chrimpmas- whatever that meant.

Tommy had hoped with the excitement of the holiday they’d have been ready to pass out by now, but he couldn’t be more wrong with the amount of commotion he could hear from down the hall- and that’s through the walls.

At least he could observe everything going on from his place on the bookshelf. It was right next to a small crack in the wall he could just squeeze through, but it gave him a good view of the living room but also enough cover from prying eyes unless he made his presence known. However, being out of the walls had one difference the blonde hadn’t accounted for.

Heat.

The fire had been lit and was keeping the whole room nice and toasty warm compared to the harsh bite the walls somehow managed to keep. The whole atmosphere made him almost want to curl up and fall asleep. It had been so long since he’d been able to just enjoy the warmth in the air and not be shivering to keep alive.

Perhaps it wouldn’t hurt if he had a nap before Santa arrived.

Just a quick one….

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Tommy was awoken to a rather loud THUNK as the Borrower shot up from where he had fallen asleep atop the shelf.

It took the blonde a moment to realise where he was and not panic about being out in the open before his eyes settled upon a figure.

Sprawled out across the floor in a heap of red and white was the jolly big man himself.

Santa Claus.

The one and only.

“Santa!” Tommy yelled excitedly as he hurriedly manoeuvred to stand. “Santa you came!”

Santa’s head snapped up from the floor alarmed, as they pushed themselves to stand and take a defensive stance.

“Who said that?!” they shouted, looking around wildly panicked. “Show yourself!”

Tommy giggled to himself. Santa was so silly.

“Up here Santa! I’ve been waiting for you.” The blonde waved as the man's head turned and their eyes fell onto his small form.

Tommy grinned at the magical man taking him all in.

Just like the figure on the big black box, Santa wore a big red coat with white fluff lining the ends of his sleeves. A big black belt was strapped around their waist, fastened with a fancy golden buckle and sturdy black boots on their feet to keep out the snow. Their head was adorned with an oversized big red hat, with a giant white fluffy pom pom on the end, and they had a long white beard that travelled down their chest. And last but not least was a pair of gold rimmed glasses perched on the tip of their rosy red nose which accentuated their big brown eyes that were staring at him in wonder.

Huh.

He could have sworn that Santa's eyes were blue.

“I can’t believe you came! I wasn’t sure if you would since I never sent a letter but you must have known anyway cause here you are!” The little borrower stated excitedly as Santa removed his glasses, and rubbed his eyes in disbelief.

“I’m so glad you’re here! I really need my Crimpmess present.”

“I’m sorry you’re what?” the man’s eyes furrowed in confusion as they processed what the younger had said.

“My present!.” Tommy rolled his eyes. “You know, the whole reason why you’re here.”

Santa didn’t exactly seem like he knew what was going on. Right now all he was doing was staring and Tommy was getting a bit annoyed.

Was that not why Santa was here? To deliver his present like the show had said?

Tommy huffed annoyed he had to explain all this. Wasn’t this like his job? He should know!

“I’m sorry,” Santa began slowly as if trying to process. “I didn’t actually know you were here.”

“Why else would you have come then?” Tommy crossed his arms unimpressed. “I’m the only kid here, but don’t tell anyone else I said that. I’m a big man! The biggest ever!”

This finally seemed to warrant a different reaction from the older, as they looked the boy up and down unimpressed by this so-called ‘fact’.

“A big man huh? You look more like a child. What are you- 12?”

Tommy feigned a gasp, grasping his chest offendedly. “I’ll have you know I’m 14 and the biggest man alive! I’m only a child for the purpose of getting my gift tonight and tonight only!”

Santa couldn’t stifle a laugh as he watched as the small child stomped his foot in a mini tantrum at being called 12. It was endearing in a way but he still wasn’t sure how to proceed with a tiny child standing on their bookshelf.

“Well whatever you say I guess, but I still I didn’t know you were here.”

The blonde shrugged before moving closer to the shelfs edge. “Ah well it doesn’t matter. You’re here now so I’d like my gift please! You have it right?”

“If I didn’t know you were here, then how would I have your present with me?” Santa asked.

Well he did make a good point. It’s not like he sent Santa a letter and he hadn't met him to tell him like other human bean children had until now.

“Oh right. Guess I better come sit on your knee and tell you what I’d like than.” Tommy stated matter of factly, as the small Borrower moved to the edge of the shelf and stabbed his hook into the wood, quickly jumping off to descend on his rope to the ground.

“Wait, DON’T DO THAT!”

The blonde yelped in surprise, moving instinctually to protect his ears at the sheer volume the man shouted, in turn losing his grip on his rope, quickly plummeting down to the ground below. Santa lunged forward with an outstretched hand as the boy slipped down the rope at a rapid speed, catching him before any real harm could be done. He semi slammed into the wall, clutching his hand to his chest as they did so before quickly unfurling their hand.

“Oh my prime! Kid- kid are you alright?” Santa said frantically checking over the boy he now held in his palm.

Tommy shook his head, dizzy from the sudden force that had rammed into him only moments ago. He tried to steady himself grabbing, onto the nearest thing his hand could find as he begun to regain his bearings.

Oh he was going to ache tomorrow…

“As soon as the world stops spinning, yeah.”

Santa sighed in relief as Tommy allowed himself to regain focus. It was then that he really took note of where he was.

Normally, if a Borrower was sitting in the hand of someone almost 100x his size, he would be kicking and screeching to get away. But this was Santa Claus’s hand and Tommy felt only wonder.

It was like nothing he’d ever experienced before. The thing he had grabbed onto was apparently Santa’s thumb and it was almost as big as his head! Even if it was a bit weird sitting on the leathery texture of their skin, the warmth radiating beneath him was heavenly, and the way the man’s fingers curled slightly over him protectively felt nothing but comforting.

Santa hadn’t moved since he caught Tommy mid air, and was staring at Tommy as if they would disappear. They seemed stuck on what to do next, but also amazed he was sitting there at all.

“You alright there big man?” Tommy raised a brow confused at why the man would act this way. Santa was literally made of magic and had flying reindeer for goodness sake! A borrower existing surely was no cause for such amazement? There were surely way more interesting magical things to see than a lowly Borrower like him.

(But then again, he was a pretty poggers Borrower if he did so say that himself, so staring could be justified for that reason)

This finally snapped the old man out of their wondrous stupor, as they squinted their eyes open and shut with a quick shake of their head.

“Uh yep. All good um. Let's- go sit down. Yeah- yeah, let's do that.” Santa said, confirming more to themself than Tommy.

Santa brought the boy protectively to their chest to brace them before they moved away from the book shelf, smoothly walking over to the couch where the old man sat down ever so slowly to not jostle their small passenger. The second they were bending down to sit though, Tommy was launching himself off Santa’s palm for his knee as the bearded man frantically tried to stop them in their escapade.

“Kid, would you stop doing that? You’re going to hurt yourself!”

“Pfft please. This is nothing compared to how I got down from that tree over there.” The boy grinned as they pointed to the far corner of the living room.

The man's head followed to where the boy was pointing, the Christmas tree displayed proudly in a large pot tied with a red bow, small lights flickering on and off in changing patterns.

“Tree? You mean the Christmas tree?”

“Yep!” Tommy stood proudly popping the p. “I had to get down somehow and my hook would have gotten stuck in amongst the branches if I had tried to abseil down. So I did what any logical Borrower would do and jumped.”

“You jumped?!” Santa’s eyes widened, as he looked back and forth between the boy and the top of the brightly decorated tree. He grimaced, imagining the boy throwing themselves from the upper branches like they had done only moments before onto his knee.

What was with this kid and being so reckless?!

“You jumped from the top of the Christmas tree!? Why were you even there in the first place?”

Tommy rolled his eyes, crossing their arms in front of their chest.

“It’s all that stupid Beans fault.”He huffed annoyed. “He just came waltzing into MY forest, decided to be very rude and put their grubby hands all over MY house wrapping it up in some ugly net, only to cut it down with me still in it!”

Tommy didn’t notice the way Santa’s brows furrowed and their expression changed to one of horror as he continued to ramble on.

“They literally kidnapped me, Santa! They’re so lucky that the main part of my house is under the tree’s trunk and not the higher branches because I swear I would have murdered that Bean in their sleep by now if they had!”

Tommy was very pleased to have finally gotten to vent some of his frustrations to someone other than his internal self, but now he was finished he had a good chance to register the other’s reaction.

Santa looked horrified.

His eyes seemed glossed over as if he was holding back tears, and one hand slapped over their mouth, the other gripping their wrist tightly in an attempt to ground themselves.

Uh shit. He hadn’t meant for that to happen…

“Uh but don’t worry Santa!” Tommy was quick to add. “ I wouldn’t actually do that. That would be a bad thing to do and put me on the Naughty list! I promise I won’t actually murder anyone!”

Phew, that was a close one. He couldn’t jeopardise his only hope with a silly joke!

Santas’ face had yet to change and Tommy subconsciously started to fidget feeling nervous to how the older was reacting. Maybe he had blown it and now he was on the naughty list. Another glance at the old man's face seemed to confirm those fears.

He’d blown it.

His one shot at survival and he practically threw it all away with a vent. No wonder he ended up all alone.

“Please don’t put me on the Naughty list Santa. I need my gift.” Tommy spoke timidly. “I didn’t mean it.”

“I- no. No you’re not on the Naughty list.” Santa dragged his hands over his eyes a few times strained. “I'm just trying to process. It’s more of the whole kidnapping thing. ”

If Tommy had been paying better attention, he may have noticed the few stray brown curls poking out from under the man's hat, but he was more thrown by their following question as the magical man continued on.

“If you were in the tree, why didn’t you say anything?”

Tommy drew a deep breath, before sighing as the boy shoved his hands into his pockets.

“Because Santa, Beans aren’t supposed to know that Borrowers like me even exist.”

“Beans?”

“Human Beans Santa. You know, big people like you, but not magical and stuff.” The Borrower explained. “There’s no way I could tell the dumb Bean he was cutting my house down! Do you know what Beans do to Borrowers like me?”

“Um no?” Santa fiddled with his hands as he looked away, eyes downcast to avoid the youngers gaze as they continued.

“They get rid of us. To them we’re just pests or things to be used.”

Tommy hugged himself tightly, anxiety pooling in his chest for the first time that night. He wished it wasn’t true, but Beans just held far too much power for their own good. Their greed often outweighing their need to do good without reward.

“I’d rather risk jumping out of a tree than ever fall into the clutches of a Bean.”

“But how do you know that?” Santa suddenly said, muscles tensing as they clenched their hand into fists.

Tommy flinched at the sight of hands so close. Closed so tightly that he couldn’t help let slip the thought of himself in the mercy of their grasp, begging to be freed like all the stories had said of the Borrowers trapped in agonising pain. The man noticed his discomfort, and immediately loosened their fists, moving their hands away and under their thighs so as to not startle the boy any further than they already had.

“Sorry. I didn’t mean to scare you.” Santa said with a sense of guilt. “But I just- How do you know that though? Who says that they would have hurt you if you had just made your presence known? You wouldn’t have had to jump or gotten hurt.”

Santa turned away sheepishly, whispering sadly. “They could have helped you.”

Tommy swallowed hard, his shoulders sagging as he observed the sad look Santa had as they stared at the Christmas tree. It was obvious they were blaming themself for what had happened. He was far too kind for that.

“Santa, it’s not your fault.” the boy sighed, “Every borrower is taught this from birth. It’s a known fact that Beans are all cruel, power hungry beings. They always want more and just take, take, take.”

“But what if this ‘Bean’ didn’t know.” Santa shot back, causing the Borrower to falter. “What if you had said something? They would have stopped and left you and your house alone? How do you know they wouldn’t have helped you?”

“Because Santa,” Tommy turned and faced the man head on. “That’s just how Beans are. To them, we're just another thing to take and control.”

Tommy wanted to believe Santa, he really did, but it was hard to just ignore years of being brought up to beware Human Beans and their cruelty. He’d seen it even from when Beans had once come into the forest with their fire sticks, and took down a friendly deer. It was unnecessarily cruel and was all the convincing Tommy needed to deem all Humans bad.

Santa nodded sadly in some kind of understanding, but Tommy couldn’t understand why Santa looked so hurt. It wasn’t his fault the Bean took him and his home, but he seemed so convinced that hiding and not asking for help had been the wrong thing to do.

He thought they were the same, that if Beans caught him on Christmas Eve, then something bad would happen to him like it would for Borrowers. That’s why they had to stay a secret. Why no one could know they were here.

But Santa wasn’t a Borrower who lived in hiding unknown. The Beans knew about the jolly, present giving man that only appeared in December.

He could live among the Beans and it would be fine if he asked for help. Everyone liked Santa. He didn’t take things just to survive. He gave toys and gifts so he would have no worries about the repercussions of taking a paperclip just to get around. He wouldn’t have to worry about Beans hurting him if something went wrong. He would just use his magic and be fine.

It was Santa’s choice to stay hidden as an extra precaution to protect that same magic.

“But you’re different from the Beans Santa.” The boy perked up instantly remembering why he was doing this in the first place. “You only come out of hiding at Christmas and everyone knows who you are! You only hide to keep your magic safe from Beans so they can’t have that too!”

The man gave a small smile as the boy continued to ramble, pacing back and forth on his thigh as he did so.

“But I don’t understand why you give children presents when they already have so much!” Tommy stopped, his lips pursed together as his voice dropped to a whisper.

“Unlike me.” He confessed quietly, lifting his head to meet Santa’s sympathetic gaze.

Santa was staring at the young boy again, leaned forward in concern listening as the blonde continued to share his story.

“It's why I need my gift Santa.” Tommy wringed his hands together with a nervous glance to see Santa’s reaction who nodded in approval, gesturing for him to continue.

Tommy steadied himself.

Now or never.

“I was brought here with basically nothing. Forced to move into the Beans walls or risk being seen. I’ve barely been able to get anything for basic survival and the walls are freezing!”

Tommy shivered remembering the way the air had nipped at his nose as he struggled to keep warm. Clutching himself tightly in a poor attempt to retain any kind of body heat. The one time he went up stairs without his coat and of course he gets kidnapped.

He needed this.

More than anything.

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Wilbur had just wanted to have the perfect Christmas.

It was his first time hosting and had decided he HAD to go all out.

More decorations than his little house needed both inside and out, homemade hot chocolate from scratch and had promised his Father and brother a very special Christmas surprise if they let him host.

Their first ever living Christmas tree and a surprise visit from the Big man himself- Santa Claus.

He’d done a bunch or research into the best spots to go where he could get a tree and quickly had been recommended from several sites about the fir trees in Logstedshire, and quickly made the trip out to find a tree.

What the websites failed to mention, was that said fir trees might be inhabited and the home of tiny people that are terrified of Human Beings.

So if you asked: No, Wilbur was not having a good night realising he had kidnapped a child that was deathly afraid of him and only okay right now because he thought he was the real Santa Claus.

In a way, it was a good thing the kid hadn’t realised yet, because if Wilbur had never dressed up in this silly costume, he probably would have never known about the child freezing to death in his walls.

The child was so cold despite their lively spirit when he’d caught them after they launched themself off the top of the shelf. The fact it wasn’t the first time they’d thrown themself from such a height made Wilbur sick knowing had they not been lucky, could very well not have made the long fall. But the fact the kid had been struggling, terrified and afraid in his walls when he could have helped had the guilt eating him away as the boy rambled on.

They were so sure of themselves with the cruelty of humanity too that they had him so on edge. If the blonde knew he was really the guy that had cut his tree down, he very much doubted they would be this enthusiastic. He was talking about how much he needed his gift- the gift he still had no clue what it was, but just hearing the little blondes tale, and seeing how thin his clothes were had Wilbur making a very long list of things he needed to get to help the kid out.

A kid which he still doesn’t know the name of.

The boy's eyes had brightened, as he bounded up and down on the balls of his feet eagerly, talking about what this gift would mean for him. He was actually quite endearing despite their seemingly dire situation.

“If I tell you my gift, then you can give it to me now and I’ll actually have a chance to survive the Winter!” He explained excitedly, grining.

Wilbur pushed down his anxiousness for the boys well-being. They had already suffered enough from his mistakes. He didn’t want them to suffer any longer than they had by them accidentally discovering the truth.

“What’s your name kid?” Wilbur mentally slapped himself that he hadn’t asked sooner.

The tiny boy chuckled to himself as they crossed their arms. “Oh come on Santa, you know my name don’t you? You have a list with every child's name on it.”

Ah- right. Santa did have that Naughty and Nice list didn’t he? Curse Santa for having to live up to magical standards.

“Uh- I came here in such a rush, I um- ah must have left my list back at the North Pole.”

“So?” The boy argued, raising a brow. “You’re magic. Don’t you just know?”

Did he say endearing earlier? How about difficult for making him use his brain at 9pm at night. (Shut up. Don’t judge him for it)

“Well you know there’s like 2 Billion kids in this world and I see them all in one night. You don’t expect me to remember every name without my list do you?”

The kid hadn’t seemed to account for this, and thought it over before shrugging in agreement.

Oh thank goodness for kids being young and naive.

“I guess that’s fair. But you’ve got a s*** memory in that case Big Man. Getting old.”

Actually, make that an annoying gremlin.

“I think if someone wants their present, they should be more careful about insulting their elders.” Wilbur teased with a chuckle. The boy rolled his eyes with a groan.

Okay, an endearing gremlin then.

“Fiiiiiiiiine.” they drawled letting their arms drop to their sides before extending their hand up in greeting. “The name’s Tommy.”

Wilbur carefully lifted his arm up and slowly extended his pinky finger out for the boy to take in an oversized handshake.

“Nice to meet you Tommy.” His finger dwarfed the boy entirely, his pinky finger only slightly shorter than the boy's total height, but nevertheless, Tommy took the tip and shook it lightly.

“Now, why don’t you sit down and tell me what it is you’d like for Christmas?”

Wilbur couldn’t help but smile at the little boy excitedly sharing in exact detail what he wanted. What the Borrower wanted wasn’t even that difficult to get, and he knew exactly where to find it. Tommy continued to ramble on for a bit longer about what he had been doing since coming here and Wilbur made mental notes of the few places where Tommy talked about entrances in out of the walls for future reference.

He was going to have to look out for Tommy from now on and if he wanted a shred of hope in getting him to trust him as Wilbur, he was going to need a plan.

“So could I have my gift now? I would really love it now and you still have a lot of other houses to visit tonight right?” Tommy asked innocently.

Wilbur really didn’t want to stop talking to Tommy. Tommy trusted the magical Santa Claus; not regular Human Being Wilbur Soot. He knew that if he let Tommy go now, it was unlikely he would see the kid again, but if he didn’t leave as Santa now, they would most likely get suspicious, realising he was a fake and panic.

Wilbur sighed as he brushed a stray hair of fake beard from under his cheek.

“I- yeah I guess so. Best get you to bed then too.”

“Awwww but I’m not sleepy yet!” The blonde pouted. “This is normally when I’m awake so it would be a crime to make me sleep now.”

“Well good little girls and boys go to bed when they’re told if they want to stay on the nice list.”

“You’re not the boss of me!” Tommy stuck his tongue out in defiance and Wilbur had to bite his to stop himself from bursting out loud laughing.

This kid was going to be the death of him he swears.

Wilbur extended his hand to the Borrower, keeping it steady as he waited for Tommy to climb on. He’s still a little huffy at first realising there was no room for argument, but climbs on anyway, sitting down in the middle of Wilbur’s palm bracing themself before he moves.

The brunette curls his fingers over the boy slightly, bringing his hand to his chest protectively. He tries not to linger too long at how it felt to hold an entire person in one hand for the second time tonight before moving to stand.

Steadily, Wilbur makes his way over to the book shelf and cautiously raises his hand up for Tommy to climb off of. He sets his hand down on the wooden surface and Tommy takes no time in hoping off to stand, waiting expectantly for his promised present.

“Okay I need you to close your eyes just for a second.” Wilbur asks the boy who quickly covers his eyes with his hands, only to peak out from behind his fingers seconds later.

“I mean it Tommy. Keep them closed.”

“Ugggghhhhh Fineee!” the boy said huffing, but relented nevertheless.

Wilbur quickly whirled around and crouched down beneath the Christmas tree, snagging a gift from the floor and hastily tearing the gift tag labelled- Technoblade; from the gift before setting it next to the small borrower child.

“Okay, you can open your eyes now.”

Tommy removed his hands and squealed in delight, quickly reaching down to hug the gift.

“Oh thank you Santa! You really are the most poggers man ever!!!” Tommy spoke rapidly, smiling so much his cheeks hurt. “Well after me of course, but only by a little bit!”

Wilbur chuckled as he gazed affectionately at the blonde hunched over the brightly wrapped gift. “You’re welcome Tommy. I’m glad you like it.”

The boy quickly stood, and started hauling the gift to the crack in the wall, as they tried to shove the gift through. Unfortunately while the crack had been enough for Tommy to squeeze through, it wasn’t quite wide enough to let the present go in without getting a tad scrunched up and paper torn.

“Um, Tommy? Is there perhaps a bigger entrance I could take this too?” Wilbur suggested, cringing slightly as the boy gave another hard shove on the gift, intent on getting it through no matter what.

“It’ll fit. Just gotta keep pushing it in.”

After a few more attempts, the boy did in fact give up and relented their efforts allowing Wilbur to pull the now crumpled present back out from the crack, instructing him to take it to the kitchen and place it behind the toaster, assuring him he would get it before the Bean woke up explaining how the electrical socket actually came off as a secret entrance.

He offered to take Tommy over to it too, but the stubborn boy refused, insisting that he had done enough and needed to hurry up and deliver presents to the other children before the night was over.

Taking one more long look at the boy, Wilbur watched as Tommy disappeared through the crack into the walls, the sound of tiny footsteps pitter pattering away before Wilbur himself quietly crept back to his room before he removed the Santa costume and flopped down onto his bed.

He’d just met a tiny child.

A tiny child trying to survive in his walls.

That was deathly afraid of him.

Quickly Wilbur shot up from his bed snatching his phone from the night stand; a plan forming in his mind. The screen read 9:31 pm before he hastily unlocked it and dove into his contacts, quickly stopping on a profile of a girl with light pink hair, dialling their number shortly after.

The phone rang twice before a woman answered on the other end.

“Hello?”

“Niki? Hey! How’s the holidays going?” Wilbur asked as he grabbed his coat and gloves from the wardrobe.

“So I need a favour…”

.｡❅*⋆⍋*∞*｡*∞*⍋⋆*❅｡.

Tommy awoke warm for the first time that week.

He opened his eyes blearily, almost willing himself to fall back into dream land before his eyes snapped fully open. Tommy rubbed his eyes a few times, eyes going wide trying to comprehend that this was real and not just a dream as the thoughts of the previous night played through his head.

He was in his Christmas present: A brand new pair of bright red, fluffy woollen socks- the most perfect bed ever and exactly what Tommy had asked for. He had basically run to get his gift as fast as possible, before hauling it back through the walls to a space close by the bookshelf; the space seemingly much more homely after last night's introductions.

He hugged the woollen fabric tightly, smiling as he remembered the soft smile Santa had as he watched him go and how kind and gentle he had been with him the entire time.

The Borrower was so pleased and grateful that he had been able to meet the Santa Claus, and would cherish the magical night forever.

He stayed snuggled in his new bed for a little while longer before his stomach grumbled in protest that he should go and have something to eat. Albeit a little grumbly, his hunger eventually won out and Tommy made his way through the walls back to the kitchen so he could gather some food before the Bean woke up.

Stealthily, he removed the electrical socket, expecting to make it a quick supply run; stepping out into the open before freezing in surprise.

Laid out in a neat pile behind the toaster was a small stack of brightly wrapped gifts all wrapped in different coloured and patterned paper, and right in the middle, an envelope with his name written in gold cursive. Tommy smiled brightly, as he eagerly ran forward to the awaiting stack of gifts, quickly grabbing a gift reading the label.

To: Tommy From: Santa

Tommy denies that he cried that day.

That he took each gift home and opened each one oh so delicately, afraid if he didn’t they might just disappear, happy tears trailing down his cheek as he opened a gift revealing a beautiful, blue knitted sweater- and in just his size.

His tears didn’t cease as he opened the other gifts revealing several new pairs of warm winter clothes, new rope and hooks for climbing, some tea candles with a tiny piece of flint and steel to light them, and the tiniest iced cookies he had ever seen. He could actually hold this in one hand like humans did and he had a whole bag of them!!! His prayers had been answered and he couldn’t be more thankful.

Soon, the only thing that remained was the envelope.

He dried his face as best he could, doing his best to not smear any tears or snot onto the pristine surface as he opened the envelope, revealing a card with a picture of glitter candy canes decorating the front.

Settled back into his new bed, Tommy opened the card and read the message inside.

Dear Tommy, It was lovely meeting you and getting to know your story. I figured you might like some extra gifts as well to help you be more comfortable in Wilbur’s walls. I think you should try talking to him. You might be surprised. Sincerely, Santa Claus

P.S- He’s not as scary as you think.

Tommy’s smile became puzzled as he reread the last few lines.

Who the heck was Wilbur?

Was that the name of the Bean that lived here?

Oh come on, that's not fair! How come Santa knew Wilbur’s name but not his!

He grumbled a little bit at the thought, but his mind kept drawing back to the last line of the card.

‘He’s not as scary as you think.’

“Hmpf, you keep saying that.” Tommy grumbled.

What was with Santa’s insistence on this?

As much as he wanted to be annoyed at Santa for putting forward such a ridiculous idea, Tommy decided to drag himself out of bed and to the book shelf crack. The Bean had gotten up not long after Tommy had made it back to his new home, but he’d been a tad too distracted to really care about how slow and heavy they had been trudging about this morning unlike their usually poised self.

Currently, said Bean was sitting on the couch, the exact same spot he and Santa had been last night, absentmindedly staring at his hand.

How could Santa think this guy was any good? They had kidnapped him unknowingly, almost let him die from hypothermia unknowingly, destroyed the top of his home unknowingly and Santa still thinks they won’t hurt him?

Okay so maybe it wasn’t their fault all those things happened just because they didn’t know he was there, but that doesn’t mean they’re not still very capable of hurting him for having to do all those things. But then again, Santa knew who was naughty or nice. And he wouldn’t ask him to do something that would endanger his safety if this ‘Wilbur’ guy wasn’t a good person right?

Tommy observed the Bean a little longer, as they ran their thumb over their palm. Their normally neat curly hair was all over the place and he could have sworn there were black bags under their eyes from lack of sleep. They suddenly turned their head and were staring straight at his crack by the book shelf. The Borrower was certain they couldn’t see him from the couch, but ducked back just slightly in case.

The Bean simply sighed as a small smile graced their features. Tommy was right about the black bags. Bean did not look like they had slept at all.

He thought back to what Santa had said.

I think you should try talking to him.

They certainly didn’t seem dangerous. Maybe they really weren’t bad like the Jolly man said?

But was it really worth taking the risk and talking to this guy?

Before he could dwell on it for much longer, the door bell sounded and Wilbur snapped his head to the sound before standing and stretching; their limbs popping and cracking slightly from their limited use. Before he left the living room, the man stopped and stared at his crack once more. Tommy didn’t dare breathe as they simply smiled and shook their head, before exiting and headed towards the front door.

Tommy allowed himself to exhale as the sound of footsteps got further away.

“Weirdo.” Tommy muttered to himself as he pushed himself back from the crack and began to head back to his bed for a well deserved rest.

He’d think about what Santa said, and just maybe he’d talk to this- Wilbur. If not, he hoped he'd meet Santa again so he could thank them in person.

Once he was back in his bed, Tommy quickly slipped in snuggling down, allowing himself to drift off to the chatter of beings much larger than himself from beyond the walls.

“Wil! So good to see you! It’s been ages!”

“Hi Dad, thanks for letting me host. I’m so glad you and Techno could make it!

“So are we, but you look like shit mate. Up late again? Wouldn't be related to that surprise you were telling us about?”

“You could say that…”

.｡❅*⋆⍋*∞*｡*∞*⍋⋆*❅｡.

Tommy never did meet Santa Claus again.

The card proudly on display in his new home, a secret hope he would one day and a constant reminder of what Santa had asked him to try.

And maybe one day, Tommy would finally take up the old man's advice and go and speak to Wilbur, and discover perhaps they may have been right.

Maybe then he’d finally have a friend to keep him warm during the holiday seasons and to rely on like he had wished.

One that seemed to always know just what he needed despite never telling them, and was very insistent about never wearing Santa costumes.

No matter how many times a little boy begged….

˗ ˏ ˋ ★ˎˊ ˗ ༺𝓜𝓮𝓻𝓻𝔂༻༺𝓒𝓱𝓻𝓲𝓼𝓽𝓶𝓪𝓼༻ ˗ ˏ ˋ ★ˎˊ ˗

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

That was a lot of words....

THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR READING TO THE END! I hope you enjoyed reading this as much as I did writing it and it means a lot you read all the way through <3

Tag List: @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

And cue rant: Honestly you guys have no idea just how much you all mean to me an in this community and the impact you've had on me in the last year alone. I could not be more thankful for being apart of this and getting to know you guys. Getting so back into writing has been really good for me and rekindled something I love so I can't thank you enough.

And even though I know I've been a little quieter online, I'm still here lurking about and working on projects. A lot has happened in the last few months alone and I'm quite happy that I'm limiting myself to be a bit more healthier with my online habits.

Anyways thanks so much if you read this far!

Thanks to my Beta readers @a-xyz-s squishy and munchkin for reading this for me, and I wish you all a very safe and wonderful Christmas and a Happy New Year!

-Beckyu ❤️

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brick-a-doodle-do · 8 months

Text

ITS DOOOOONE WOOHOOOOOOO FIC TIMEEE :3333

SPIDERMANSPIDERMANSPIDERMAN! i originally wrote this for beckyu and i kind of still did but i feel bad giving her straight angst so it was INSPIRED by beckyu and her liking of superhero au's at the time dhdjfnnsn

ty to @munchkin1156 and @a-xyz-s for the ending ideas, ANDDD thank you munchkin, @dingbatnix and 3d for proofreading ILY 🫶

(title from doomsday by derivakat)

you're stuck in the web and caught in the lie

wc: 6748

cw: sfw vore, unwilling prey, fatal vore mention, mentions of puking, (lots of) panic, little comfort

—-—

The bulb in the bathroom teases with his sanity, flickering in the corner of Wilbur’s vision as he stares at himself in the mirror. His eyes are heavy, exhaustion lingering on them, for moments before he had been passed out after a long night. Ultimately, he had been woken up by commotion in the streets, but loud feedback from the radio in his room is what drove him out of bed and stumbling into the connecting bathroom.

Tommy, a borrower he had discovered just before starting his vigilante work, hadn’t been anywhere to be seen as of this morning, which he considered a given since he was housed on the other side of the flat and slept through almost anything.

So, it was just him, splashing water on his face and dabbing it dry with a hand towel. His mask hangs over the edge of the sink bowl, looking warped without a wearer. Wilbur stares at it, frowns, and sighs while swiping it off the porcelain. The tight, sturdy yellow and black fabric stretches in his fingers as he fidgets with the edge of it. After a tiresome moment of consideration, he swipes his hair back and slides the mask on, fitting it under the bodysuit. Wilbur then takes his top layers of clothes off, throwing his shirt and shorts onto the hamper and stretching in the skin-tight suit that makes him cringe.

His radio chatters louder than normal, screams and police sirens amplified through fuzzy audio. He briefly hears someone discuss his name—his hero one, at least—and discuss his absence. Wilbur yawns. He’d rather slip back under the covers of his bed and drift off until the foreseeable future. The only thing standing in the way between Wilbur and his comfort is his moral obligation to perform no bad.

Offering his masked face a tired rub, he trudges from the bathroom with heavy feet and finds his way back into his bedroom, listening for any indication of where the disturbances are before shutting it off. It goes silent, and now audible are the distant sounds of police sirens echoing throughout the city. Wilbur unlocks his window and slides it open, stepping over the edge and out onto his fire escape. He shuts it, then places two fingers over his palm. Instantaneously, a pearl white web shoots from his wrist, latching onto a nearby building. Quickly, he pulls himself up onto the railing and jumps, hand wrapped tediously around the web as he swings, legs curled up with practiced ease. Through his fatigue, he finds his way through the city, web after web latching onto different buildings that he only lingers on for a few seconds before jumping to the next.

A few flashes catch his attention from down below as the early-morning crowd of people notice the hero's arrival. For the most part, he ignores them, instead keeping his eyes out for the sounds of sirens and the sight of distress.

Spotting a crowd, Wilbur zeroes in on it, instinctually latching to a nearby apartment building and landing on the roof half-gracefully. He creeps over the edge, crouched as he approaches. There’s a gathering of police cars, a count of three ambulances and two nearby fire trucks. A whole crowd of pedestrians and traffic has positioned themselves outside of a ring of orange barriers. The only thing Wilbur can’t locate is the problem.

He scans the street, looking beyond the crowd and studying the depths of the block. Wilbur gazes over the horizon, where the only thing to meet him was the beginning of a sunrise. Despite his yearn to watch the upbringing of the morning, he turns his gaze away to find his villain.

A scream grows exponentially, echoing through the busy street and filtering through his mask. Wilbur whips his head over his shoulder, eyes narrowing as he scans the skyline. He huffs as he’s left without eyes on the villain.

About half-way to the edge of the rooftop in hopes of contacting the police down below, there’s a piercing screech from directly behind him. Wilbur startles, the noise making him wince and cringe hard enough, leaving him now falling over the edge of the rooftop and into open air, where his eyes widen at the realization of the descent. Reacting quickly, he shoots a web to the railing and latches on, jerking to a stop before letting the web retract and raise him back to the rooftop. Wilbur connects his fingertips and feet with the concrete wall, sticking to it effortlessly while he creeps up the side of the building.

Through his awkward angle of the top of the ground, he spots a misplaced train car half-dug in the concrete, minute sparks still flying from the impact. Wilbur spots a round of people inside through the tinted windows. They’re jarred, no doubt, presumably both mildly and gravely injured. Only few still move about the confined spot, mostly with agitation and fear. He doesn't mind them for the time being, more focused on the culprit of the disturbance.

Despite the size of Essempi and their neighboring towns, he didn't meet a lot of supervillains. Occasionally some with creative costumes, though they don't pose much threat—he had himself half-convinced that the serenity of the town was just the beginning of some in-progress-anti-hero organization.

So, there weren't many villains who could make the technology to haul a train car onto a rooftop.

His imagination doesn't have to run much longer, for the mechanical noises of XD’s robotic extra arms draws his attention to the side, where the approaching villain stares around the skies for him. Satisfied with his obscurity, Wilbur raises a little bit to get a better view of the scene.

Suddenly, there’s an irritating whir that toys with his eardrums. He looks back, a helicopter catching his line of vision. Fuck. Just as he notices it, the spotlight ticks on and lands directly on him.

Wilbur gasps, squints at the bright light. The space now illuminated around him and XD’s attention turned to him instantly. He ducks down, spinning around so his back is against the wall and facing out to the city. Wilbur finds the attention of the aircraft and makes a motion akin to slicing his neck, silently portraying that they’re doing more harm than good.

Abruptly, part of the light is obscured from above him, thankfully shadowing the blinding light, although posing even more of a problem than potential blindness. Wilbur sighs, looking up to see XD’s carved mask—his old one—the cracked thing boring daggers into his own mask.

“Spiderman! Y’know, I thought I hated the cops, they just weren't ever on my side, but look at this! They helped me find you,” XD says, chuckling and then offering a salute to the aircraft. Wilbur’s shoulders slump a little as he flips back over and climbs up to the rooftop, hopping over the railing to find footing on the concrete ground. From this view, he notices that XD’s figure isn't laced with thick armor and his grand mask, and he’s instead stood, black slacks and a neon hoodie with his old smiling mask slapped on his face. His hands are in his pocket, looking casual, almost lazy.

“You look like you've seen better days,” Wilbur says. Why hasn’t XD made a move yet?

Dream shrugs. “Didn't want to be too…noticeable.”

Wilbur looks at the bright green hoodie he’s sporting and then at the train car of people. XD’s arms twitch.

“You should reconsider,” Wilbur suggests. Within a moment, he flicks a web at XD’s mask to distract him enough before darting to the left of him and running after the train car to help the civilians. XD isn't showing much interest in fighting him,

Immediately as he approaches the car, he gets halfway to wedging his fingers between the seal in the doors before there’s five metallic fingers wrapping his torso and pulling him through the air. It throws him, wind screaming in his ears around him and hissing in his ears as he begins his descent—over the open air, no building to catch him. The crowd beneath him gasps, loud enough to bring him back to reality.

His hands find a familiar position and he has the quick reaction to latch two webs onto the railing again. He retracts in a second, back onto the railing, crouched with his hands on the cold bars.

XD still isn't moving. He’s everything but hostile, apart from launching him off the side of the building. The spotlight from the helicopters above whirs loudly, circling the two on the building.

“What the fuck are you doing?” Wilbur asks finally, snapping XD’s attention to him.

“Okay—look, I should've really planned this out, and I don’t want to totally humiliate you…” XD trails off. Wilbur slips off the railing and onto the roof, standing up to await the villain’s plan.

“It's kind of late for reconsidering the humiliation, didn't you just launch me off a building?” Wilbur points out.

“Shut up! I'm thinking,” XD insists.

Wilbur sighs. He runs again, flicking yet another web at the train car. He jumps, the web retracting and he glides overhead the villain, who through the corner of his vision is still caught up picking web off his face.

He lands on the roof of the train car with grace, considering his next move. Wilbur carefully climbs down to the back of the car, where he’s barely visible. Soothed at the fact, he offers a wave to the city-goers in the car. “I'll get you out,” Wilbur whispers, more of a reassurance to himself than anything.

Winding a quick punch and releasing it just as quick, the glass in the window cracks from his enhanced strength. The surrounding people inside the car step to the side on instinct as he punches again, the crack deepening. Through the reflection in the windows, (Any lighting in the car had been replaced by phone lights, making it incredibly difficult to see inside), he spots one of XD’s arms launching at him. Wilbur jumps, landing on the roof of the train car and wincing as he listens to glass break.

“That car isn't for you to save, Spiderman,” XD says, coldly, his voice less casual and reminding him of their typical encounters. The arm launches for him again and Wilbur dashed out of the way, flicking a web across the building and dashing out of the way.

He darts out of the way for the third time, huffing out in impatience. “Oh, so you brought it up here for fun?” Wilbur asks, shooting a web at XD’s arm, effectively folding it against the villain’s back.

He hisses out in victory, although the action is short lived because as he jumps from the railing, overtop of XD and going for another calculated web, the wind is knocked from his chest as he’s grabbed from the air and jerked to the side. Wilbur groans out in pain as he’s shoved to the concrete, which startles a shriek out of him. It’s then that he’s brought back to open air, dangling from the ground with an irritated scowl hidden underneath his mask. His shoulder stings from where it had slammed into the ground, but when he tries to soothe it with a rub, he finds his hands are pinned to his side.

Wilbur glares at XD.

“I’m going to put you down, and we’re going to talk.”

Wilbur knows obliging would be the best decision, leading him to tentatively nodding at the offer. As suggested, he’s lowered down, cautiously, the arm then retracting with a whir and laying on the ground beside XD’s form.

“Have you ever heard of the trolley problem?” the villain asks, his real hands still in his pocket. Wilbur shrugs.

“In passing,” he says, “Why? I don't see anyone else hostage, do you know how the Trolley Problem works?” he muses, brows furrowing at XD’s response: something of a laugh.

“You have two choices here, alright?” Suddenly, a screeching sound is scraping at his ears, two of XD’s arms wrapping the car and holding it up, right near the edge of the rooftop. “Save a train car full of people,” the villain continues, then reaches into his pocket. Wilbur squints as the villain pulls something small from the depths of his hoodie and holds it up, a string with something on the end of it dangling in the air.

His heart sinks. Tommy.

“Or a pest. Your pest.”

Wilbur’s mouth falls agape, his shoulders slump, and his hands tense. Play it off, Play it off. He still has the time to embarrass XD and make him believe he has the wrong guy. Surely XD doesn’t—actually know his identity.

“I don’t see anything,” Wilbur says, his voice rushed and quivering.

“It's—It’s on the end of the string, look—there's some pest at the end of it.” XD clarifies, a smudge of humor in his tone.

Wilbur lets the clarification run dry and finds himself bitterly glaring at XD. The villain hums, shakes the string a little. As he does, Wilbur watches Tommy flail at the end of it. His heart pounds in his chest, twisting at the thought of the poor borrower caught up in his work. He tried hard to keep Tommy out of it—he never even hinted at it. The idea that Tommy dangles in the grasp of Wilbur’s enemy without any hope that someone could save him makes Wilbur want to puke.

A scream from the people in the train car snaps him out of his thoughts, adjusting him to his very real situation that he needs to find a solution to. He can save Tommy from a lethal fall, or save a cluster of people from an equally deadly height.

“Which one, Spiderman?” XD persists.

Suddenly his lax clothing and old mask doesn't seem so lazy anymore, and Wilbur finds himself staring at the carved out smile with disbelief.

“Did you wake up and decide to do this?” Wilbur asks. He’s wasting time. The hero watches as Tommy is drawn a little higher, and the likelihood of death increases massively. Meanwhile, Wilbur just stands there.

“I was bored. Wanted to test my theories about you, turns out…I was right,” XD hums. Wilbur knows that XD is clawing at the inside for a chance to blurt his name out and rip the bandaid off. Something in Wilbur has to hand it to the villain, though, because even with an audience of news reporters and cops and civilians, he still has held off.

Okay. This cannot be hard. (Albeit reluctantly), He’s Spiderman. Wilbur can always do both.

“I’ll take the train,” Wilbur decides, “leave the 'pest’,” he lies, easily. The words are like poison to his tongue, but he’s found an obvious route to take.

“Okay. Okay! Well, what's your heroic plan without a little entertainment?” XD comments, then releases the car immediately, his silver arms retracting and glistening under the rising sun. Wilbur yells out, running near the edge of the building to go after the train, although before he can get the momentum to jump off, he notices that XD has dropped the rope holding Tommy.

His eyes widen at the realization, he screams out a rushed “Tommy!” and quickly, he flings a web in the vicinity of the borrower, hopefully latching onto him before taking to the railing, finding his footing before jumping off of the building.

Calm and calculated, trying to ignore the blood rushing in his ears and the way his head screams about his inevitable failure, he instantly retracts the web holding (what he hopes to be) Tommy, then lifts his mask up in a panic, getting a good grip on the clump of web before shoving the flash of white into his mouth and pulls the mask back down over his mouth. His mouth shuts with a click that blurs his thoughts of a plan.

Briefly, he recognizes movement within his maw, and with the reassurance, Wilbur finds the time to finally focus on the train car, which plummets, although nothing too worrying yet, especially as he now has the opportunity to advance downwards, the wind lapping all around him. He’s done this a thousand times.

Something clicks against his teeth, hitting from the inside. The wind in his ears and the adrenaline completely flooding him makes it hard to focus on the fact that he had hit bullseye on Tommy, and even more is he distracted at the fact that the poor thing is scared out of his life, in the clasp of someone he doesn't know he trusts. Trapped in their mouth no less. He runs a worried tongue over the figure in his mouth to try and resolve the boy’s fear. It was half-assed but all he could muster as a thousand ideas for saving the car floods through his mind and thoroughly bury the memory of Tommy.

A web shoots from his wrist and flies through the wind, whistling against it before coming to a halt when the edge of the web reaches something solid, the edge of a building, just a temporary brace until he can build another. He flicks another web, and another, and another, and he feels the energy leaving his body as Wilbur constructs a base for the car to land in. It’s already caught on the first one he did, but the weight of the metal and the people inside has the web splitting.

By the time he finishes the landing pad, it’s mere feet from the streets, housing the fallen train car. Meanwhile, now no longer distracted, his blurry mind has the ability to shoot one last web onto a balcony near the scene. Wilbur jerks as the web pulls taught, something in his head shifting to panic, but he ignores it while letting the web retract and guide him up onto the balcony, which he clambers onto and falls over in an instant, something of this morning’s fatigue, his mix of emotions, and the overuse of his silk making him a useless pile of black-and-yellow fabric.

(*)

Tommy is screaming. He knows he’s screaming, even though the noise is barely audible over the lapping sound of the helicopters that circle the area, which had irritated him enough into covering his ears, he still is screaming. The disturbance of the helicopter had been enough to distract him, and as he zones back in as Spiderman had yelled out something incoherent, and then weirdly, his own name.

It was then that he finally felt the rush of cold air against his body, and it was then that he registered that he was falling, concrete growing closer and closer and closer, and—his abrupt fate was cut off by an equally abrupt something clashing into him and expanding, surrounding his entire body and jerking him through the air. His stomach sinks at all the movement. He struggles against the sticky web that he’s caught in, memories of getting caught up in spider web as a borrower flashing through his memory. If not for the fact that this situation was nothing similar, and that this was quite literally life or death, he might’ve found comfort in finding some resemblance of his home life.

Wilbur.

Oh, Wilbur's going to get home and think Tommy abandoned him! Oh, oh fuck—

Suddenly, there's another pull in his gut and he’s screaming even louder as he falls, plummets, zips through the air. It whistles around him, his ears throb, and his hands are shaking so much he can barely even wipe the tears off of his face without it being consistent with hitting himself. There’s a thick groan that murmurs from his mouth as, despite the layer of web between him, he’s tossed against someone’s hand, whiplash settling in nicely with his jittering soul.

He barely recognizes the black and yellow fabric all around him before he’s catching his gaze on a distantly familiar bottom profile of a face, one that, terrifyingly, opens up and draws Tommy close.

“No, no, nonononononoNO—” Tommy yells, a mouth suddenly his only surroundings. The morning light illuminates the space around him, rows of human teeth entirely surrounding him, fleshy pink walls and the faint outline of the opening of a throat just mere inches from him.

“Shit! Let me out, fuck—HELP ME!” Tommy pleads, screaming, he can't even help but try to be hopeful in a time like this. He can’t even wrap his head around the fact that he thinks he'll be curled up in Wilbur's hands tonight if he asks. What is he, four?

Tommy sobs. Tears break through, finally the adrenaline of the situation coming to a screeching halt as soon as the mouth he’s in shuts tight, the the jarring view of the city overhead coming to a close with an echoing click that replays in his mind a thousandfold. Tommy sobs again, shaking, his struggling within the cage-like web intensifying. He has a higher chance of avoiding becoming food if he can stand up and fight.

Finally, finally, his legs can move more than a few inches. His legs are free, and he tears his arms free, picking the excess pieces off of him, baring his teeth as he strains his arm just to get free. He can barely fend off an inanimate spiderweb, he can only imagine the idea of fighting off a prodding tongue that’ll inch him slowly to the back of the throat that’ll send him to his real death.

He pulls at the silky material, which has been soaked slightly as the person's saliva fills the room. It's at the moist sensation under his fingertips that he realizes how suffocatingly damp it is. Tommy pats at the surface underneath him, cringing, almost gagging at the fact that he’s sitting atop a tongue. He’s…he’s going to die, he’s sitting on his deathbed.

He can barely maneuver himself to stand up without fucking falling. Tommy jerks a little bit, almost falling into the person's teeth at the movement.

Finally stumbling to a stand with a scowl on his face, he tries to feel around for something solid. He seems to reach teeth, because his pounding fists collide with something hard. He punches at them, sobbing, a sudden weakness in his form overtaking him.

“Let me out! Please! I—I can't die, not right now! I—I just—” Tommy finds himself stuttering over his words. He doesn't know why he doesn't want to die. There shouldn't be a problem if he simply ceased to exist, though the idea still tormented him.

If he were to die, it at least shouldn't be at the hand of something Tommy had spent most of his life avoiding, and certainly not by something he had foolishly begun growing to trust.

The feeling of something wet seeps into his clothing, prodding at him—and so caught up in his cries he takes an embarrassingly long time to recognize that there’s a tongue placed by his shoulder. Tommy shrieks as he does realize, scrambling away from the muscle the best he could, (which wasn’t easy, considering the thing took up most of the mouth).

He swallows down a gulp of vomit, cringing at the fact that he’s even existing right now. Tommy draws a hand to his face, fisting his tears away. It doesn't matter in the end, as by the time he gets his face dry it's ruined by another orbit of tears. He still shakes, his hands propped in his lap while he leans against the closed rows of teeth, awaiting his inevitable fate.

Just as expected, the world jerks, heavy, heavier than before, and suddenly he’s almost downed in a pool of saliva as he’s drawn back, back, and, NO—he claws aimlessly at the tongue, his efforts run useless while he’s shot down the throat in an instant. His hands fail to cling onto purchase and he slides, easily, too easily. He can't flex his limbs enough to flail, and even if he did the struggle would go unmatched against the pool of acids he’s about to meet.

He falls, he screams as he falls. His gut churns at the fact that he’s landed in someplace new, equally as dark as a mouth but painfully obviously not.

It’s hollow, nothing like the tunnel he just traveled down. It’s warm and suffocating, however, and he feels as if he couldn't breathe. Probably because his nose is stuffy and breathing in through his mouth triggered another fit of sobs.

Tommy stretches his arms to feel his surroundings, coughing, then immediately sobbing again upon the feeling of fleshy walls that contort around him, flexing slightly. He’s going to die. He’s going to puke—he is dead. He falls against the surface he’s surrounded by, attempting to draw his knees up, though they slip into the thin pool at the bottom of the chamber, his chamber.

The warm liquid soaks his shoes, and in half a second, he’s convinced himself that it stings, and that he’s going to die within the next five minutes.

If only Wilbur were here. He would know how to calm him down, even if he was dying. If he was on his last breath and Wilbur was there to reassure him, he’d believe him. Full-heartedly.

Tommy punches at the fleshy walls, yelling, despite how much strain it puts on his already-sore throat. “Fuck,” he whines, sliding against the walls and sighing.

He has a plan for everything. Wilbur, as a joke, locked him in a jar once, then proceeded to accidentally forget about him, and he inched off the counter until he fell and broke the jar. He was all cut up but he was out. So, why isn't his brain catching up to date with recent events and getting him a plan?

Tommy knows why, but he doesn't exactly want to admit it just yet.

His surroundings jerk, throwing him to the other end of the area before the walls squish in on him, embracing him from all angles and making him wail at the fact. His face is pressed against the slick flesh, the pool of saliva and, (what he tells himself is) acid, he sobs again. Again again, his body aches as he shakes with somber origins, again he cries again, Prime, why won't he stop crying?

(*)

By the time Wilbur regained feeling in his head and it was no longer a sludge of mixed emotions about what just happened and reassurance that he had Tommy, and by the time Wilbur had picked himself up from where he lay on the cold concrete of a balcony and webbed away, he realized there was nothing in his mouth.

But, he completely remembers the web with Tommy in it being secure in the makeshift pocket while he did his work, so why wasn't it there anymore?

Wilbur lands in the crowd, wincing as he catches the attention of news broadcasters. He’s about to web away to avoid public attention when something in his gut hits him so gently that he pauses, and his eyes widen. Wilbur pauses, freezes, then shudders.

Tommy.

He runs off, immediately, into an alleyway where he leans against the wall and places a disbelieving hand to his gut. “Wh—Tommy?” Wilbur whispers, careful as to not catch the attention of the nearby reporters.

There’s a response. It’s faint, he can’t hear it—shit. At the very least, he’s alive—hopefully for the time it takes to get him out.

Okay, just…focus. He’s focused before—he has to be focused to unstick. But he’s never swallowed anyone before! Wilbur closes his eyes and pulls his attention to the moving figure in his gut, squeezing in his stomach and pretending like he’s trying to puke, (which probably wasn’t the best idea considering he does feel like he’s two webs away from vomiting his guts out).

The attempt is disturbed by flashing cameras, which startle him to a defensive position and make him forget about his focus. He groans, staring at the news reporters that have taken to crowding around him, cornering him in the alley.

“I’m gonna be real with you guys, I think there’s a lot more interesting things to film than me,” Wilbur says, huffing out a dry laugh.

“Why did you wait until the last second to save them?” A reporter asks. I was saving someone else, Wilbur muses in his mind, once again reminded of Tommy.

“Seriously, leave, I’m done with this scene, you should be too,” Wilbur tries.

The reporters only grow closer, photo after photo after photo—it overwhelms him, to say the least, especially with the fact that his gut is being absolutely attacked by Tommy. It takes a lot for him to not curl up against the brick wall behind him and murmur reassurances to him. Flashes and questions blur in his mind, and thankfully his energy has seemed to return and he has half the mind to toss two fingers over his palm. A web sprouts, spiraling up onto the building above so he can get away from the crowd of people.

Landing on the concrete, he sprints behind a doorway and kneels there, just in time for a particularly revolting punch from the inside of his gut that leaves him clutching his gut and gagging as something travels upwards in his gullet—finally. He gags again and feels something thrash in his mouth. Tommy, no doubt.

Without adrenaline rushing through him and numbing his thoughts, he notices there’s a distinct taste in his mouth. It’s tangy and unpleasant, mixed with the taste of salt—undoubtedly tears. He winces at it, making a move for the edge of his mask. Before he could pull it up and beg the trust he just thoroughly undid, the laps of a fucking helicopter catch his attention. Immediately, his hands drop from his face and he scrambles up, flipping them off tediously before running to the edge of the roof and jumping off, landing on the neighboring one.

Wilbur takes a sharp left, his webs wrapping around a street light. Gracefully, he lands on it, looking around the sky for the aircraft. It seems to have lost sight of him.

Gently, with his tongue, he pushes Tommy to the side of his mouth and rushes out reassurances while he glides through the city and back to his apartment building.

“You’re okay—I’m so sorry, Tommy. You’re okay, I promise you’re okay,” he says, it’s half-mumbled but it, hopefully, has gotten the point across.

The little “fuck you!” from within his mouth says otherwise.

Finally, for what has felt like hours when in reality barely half an hour has passed, he finds footing on his fire escape. The security of being home feeling like a boulder off his shoulders. He opens his window, climbing in and shutting it with ease.

Immediately, Wilbur lifts his mask up and spits Tommy out. The boy quivers against his skin, shaking and murmuring curses with his strained voice. Wilbur’s heart twists, guilt coursing through him even more than the adrenaline had earlier. He did this to Tommy.

“Tommy,” Wilbur calls, his voice soft. His hands find themselves frozen, unable to comprehend how much of a trance Tommy has been put under. “Tommy, hey, king, come on, you’re safe,” Wilbur says, taking a distracted seat on the floor. “Are you

okay? Are you hurt?” Wilbur adds, pulling the tiny a little closer to inspect his shivering form.

He’s not sure if Tommy actually recognizes that he’s not in Wilbur’s mouth, or even gut.

“Get the fuck away from me—” Tommy breathes out, his voice shallow and dry. He coughs, shuddering with another sob. Wilbur frowns, deep, watching intently as the borrower collects himself in his cupped hands, shuffling to sit up and glare at Wilbur.

(*)

“I didn’t mean to swallow you, I promise—I just—” Spiderman says, his own lies running dry on his tongue. Why is his voice so familiar? “Just tell me

you’re not hurt, man—”

Tommy doesn't respond to Spiderman and instead takes a look around the space, realizing very quickly that the space is identical to Wilbur’s apartment.

He hiccups, coughing as phlegm gets caught in his throat. “Why are we at Wilbur’s house?”

Something in Spiderman’s face, from what he can see of it, shifts, something of confusion tugging at his lips. Then, in a blink, he’s shifted onto one hand and Spiderman pulls the mask off fully, revealing—

Oh.

“Wilbur,” Tommy breathes out, coughing again. His heartbeat picks up at the fact that Wilbur, out of the whole city, sat behind the mask. “You fucking swallowed me,” Wilbur almost flinches at the words, “and you lied to me.”

“You know I wouldn’t hurt you, not intentionally.” Wilbur returns his hands to the cupped position, but Tommy doesn’t move. His eyes are glued on Wilbur. His hair, his worried eyes with tears swelling in them and fatigue lining them as dark bags, his frowning lips, and the black-and-yellow suit that clings onto his body.

“Fuck, Wilbur, you—I don’t even know—” Tommy says, groaning and leaning into Wilbur’s hold. It feels warm, similar to—-

“Are you mad at me?”

Tommy’s eyes widen as he scoffs. “What the fuck?! Of course—-of course I am, Wilbur! I thought I was going to die! I probably would’ve!”

Wilbur winces. Bastard.

“I’m sorry,” the man whispers.

Tommy looks at Wilbur strongly, and for some reason, the action alone is enough to make him sob again. He shudders, goosebumps trailing his spine.

“No, no—Tommy, you’re okay, man!” Wilbur reassures—or he tries to, it doesn’t really work, because Tommy just ignores it.

“I’m not!” he retaliates, sobbing into the human’s gloved hand.

“Toms, darling,” Wilbur tries gently, taking his thumb and oh-so-gently drawing it along Tommy’s tiny, red-and-puffy face, ridding of his tears in an instant. His heart hurts at the nickname and the show of affection. “You’re still alive, aren’t you?”

“I almost wasn’t,” Tommy seethes out. “I would’ve died from that fucking villain you were fighting, you could’ve chewed me to death, and I probably was going to disintegrate when you swallowed me! Fuck you, Wil.”

Wilbur’s expression shifts. “You didn’t die, though, you’re very alive. And, I told you, Tommy, I never wanted to swallow you. It just happened. I must’ve startled too hard and did it.” Tommy scowls. He shifts, his damp feet sliding on the slick fabric of Wilbur’s suit. He almost forgot he was covered in saliva and acid.

“That doesn’t make up for the fact that you did it, instinctually, or whatever. Your brain wanted to eat me, just admit it!”

Wilbur stays quiet.

“Put me down,” Tommy then asks, now growing impatient after the warmth that Wilbur’s hand had provided has since run cold and proved nothing comforting. Wilbur, the bastard, looks so hesitant to his request it makes him shudder. “Wilbur, put me the fuck down,” he repeats, stronger, masking his (dwindling) panic.

Begrudgingly, looking as if he regrets every moment, the human obliges and lowers the boy onto the floor, close to the bed where Tommy’s nearest nook is. “Thank you,” Tommy offers smally. He doesn’t know if he expected Wilbur to let his hesitance overtake him, but he finds that he’s grateful for the fact that he’s no longer engulfed by Wilbur’s hands and has found a place on the floor, already making a rushing move to the shadows of the bed.

Though, as he walks, he feels his limbs are tired and ache. He doesn’t understand why they do, however—he had only cried, a mental problem, and he had kept his struggle to a minimum (in terms of how he usually flails), so why did he feel such a strong desire to collapse?

Tommy feels tears swell up in his eyes again, soul tugging at him to break down again. He winces at such fragile sensitivity and strays from his path, pulling off to lean against the leg of the bed. He sighs against it, holding back the floodgates of his tears while trying to ignore that Wilbur is still sat on the floor. He blinks away his tears. Tommy’s throat burns from earlier, also now housing the sobs he’s shoving back down his vocal box. He’s not crying again, no fucking way.

“Are you sure you want to be alone, Toms?” Wilbur asks, still soft as ever. It’s hard to be mad at the bastard when he’s been nothing but reassuring. But he almost died because of Wilbur, three separate times in barely an hour. How could he not be pissed? Then again, he had bargained with himself that Wilbur could be the only one to ever talk him out of the fear of death. Ironic, his mind muses.

“Not really,” he says, coughing a bit. He blinks away another circle of tears. It doesn’t work, and the irritating sting in Tommy’s eyes just pushes him far over the edge and he cries again, drawing his knees up and crossing his arms over them while he stares off into the shadows. He can’t hear much, but not in a concerning way, he’s just spaced out long enough for the only constant in his mind being his shallow cries.

Perhaps as he’d expected, he’s drawn back to reality with a nudge on his side. He grumbles, looking over to find Wilbur’s hand next to him, fingers folded into each other except for his forefinger, which pokes at his side again. From under the bed, most of the man’s face is obscured, but he can see Wilbur’s lips, which sport a fine smile, nothing amused, only genuine.

“Do you want to rest? I think you could benefit from a break from this shitty morning,” Wilbur offers, “we can finish talking later,” he then adds, which the thought of reliving today, even in memories, makes him shiver, but falling asleep on Wilbur had been his one wish when in—there.

Hesitant, he shuffles up from where he sat. At his movement, Wilbur’s hand opens up and lays flat against the hardwood floor, moments from Tommy.

A part of him does wonder if it’s a ruse, but a lot of him doesn't have the energy to give a fuck. At least, not for right now.

He climbs onto the hand, his own hands bracing Wilbur's fingertips so he doesn't lose his balance, and he finds a seat on the crease in Wilbur’s fingers that connect them to his palm.

“I'm still actually mad at you,” Tommy says as Wilbur draws him out of the shadows and back into the air.

“That's okay, sunshine,” the man reassures. Once again, he takes his thumb, the gloves digit rubbing over Tommy’s face, tugging up to dry the last of his tears. The boy grumbles at the touch, but his disapproval only makes Wilbur stifle a laugh.

“I thought we were resting, dick.”

Wilbur hums, shuffling up from the floor while keeping Tommy steady in his hand. He walks to the bed, sitting on the edge. “And you're sure you’re not hurt?”

Tommy sighs at Wilbur. “I'm not, if I was I would’ve told you, I still trust you. Kind of. Bitch.”

He has such a way with words.

Wilbur just hums, carefully drawing the boy up to his mouth. Tommy scrambles back, pressing further into the hands under him. The panic is short lived, especially as Wilbur only pecks a kiss on the top of his head.

“Stop that,” Tommy demands. Wilbur draws him back, slightly. At the distance between them, Tommy stumbles to a stand and walks the length of Wilbur's palm and stands on the edge of it, arms outstretched to pull Wilbur’s nose closer to him. He hugs it, or, the best he could.

“Awe, Tommy,” Wilbur says, his tone high in adoration. Tommy pinches Wilbur’s skin, causing the human to retaliate his hand and drag the borrower with it before situating himself in bed. Tommy snickers, slipping off Wilbur's hand and onto his chest. He frowns at the placement and walks, along the Spiderman suit and latching onto Wilbur’s chin, using all the (lacking) strength in his arms to pull himself up Wilbur's face, stumbling only slightly while readjusting. Wilbur stays still, he can spot the man’s eyes on him, but otherwise he remains absolutely frozen until the borrower plops down by the older’s nose and gets extra comfortable.

Only because he knows Wilbur wouldn't be able to move him without waking him up, and the human wouldn't dare.

—-—

taglist: @da3dm, @i-am-beckyu, @local-squishmallow, @skullsnbruises, @krazycat49, @munchkin1156, @nobodywritingao3, @a-xyz-s // taglist request

#mw #brickfic #mcyt g/t #mcyt gt #dsmp g/t #dsmp gt #dream smp g/t #dream smp gt #g/t #dsmp vore #t!tommy #tiny!tommy #g!wilbur #giant!wilbur #moral obligation au

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munchkin1156 · 8 months

Text

I have fallen (but have faith, for I shall rise once more)

. . .

Borrower Techno with rest of sbi as god's? More likely than you think :D

2.2k words for part one, definitely going to make a part two because I'm not about to LEAVE y'all on a cliffhanger like that.

(Cw: Blood, injuries, mention of death (non happens) swearing, angst, accidental fearplay and Techno passes out due to blood loss.)

Hope you enjoy my (technically) first addition to the mcyt g/t community from my user!

. . .

Technoblade wasn’t like other borrowers.

Other borrowers didn’t have voices in their heads, who screamed at him for blood, grew emotionally attached to the most random things, or know things that helped him evade capture multiple times.

Other borrowers didn’t have memories that never existed, searing into his brain at moments when he loses themselves, of friendships with beings of power, of him being a being of power, of falling from the clouds for a crime he did not do.

When his sword is stained red from those who wronged him, then in his head it rings. When the voices, or as he called them, Chat, started chanting. It never made sense, what they chanted.

Blood for the blood god

And it scared him, not knowing what it meant. But he couldn’t dwell on it now, just like he couldn’t dwell on it yesterday. He was a borrower, and that meant he needed to borrow.

Techno stepped outside of the comfort that was the shelter that he had been using for the past week. Being a wandering borrower, he didn’t have a home, exactly. He wandered from place to place, travelling lightly and swiftly, being able to escape at a moment's notice.

He had bases in some places, so he could restock and rest for a bit, but he was exploring a new area and that came with the consequence of not knowing where safety lay, so if a bean were to see him, he might not be able to get out of there fast enough.

But it wouldn’t come to that. Techno was an amazing borrower, and his motto was literally ‘Technoblade never dies’. He started walking through the long grass, humming to himself. He wouldn’t get caught, he was certain of it.

So why did he feel so uneasy?

. . .

“Hey- Hey! Stop it!” He whispered, whipping his sword out as an act of defence. The crow squawked defiantly but didn’t stop trying to pick him up with its beak.

Techno groaned. Crows were always nice to him, and they were one of the few things that gave him those memories other than blood.

Memories of black wings surrounding him, feeling safety and warmth, and when he looked into those eyes-

Other things that did this were music, especially guitars or discs, the colour red, and that one statue. It had been in some rich fucker’s garden, and from what he had overheard the people in it were gods, whatever that was.

Their names, according to the beans he had been eavesdropping on, were Philza, Angel of Death, a golden blonde man with large black crow wings, a fatherly expression on his face as he stared at Soot, the god of music and chaos, a brunette who was laughing and ruffling the hair of Innit, god of discs and the wilderness.

And, standing a little bit away from the others, was a statue with its head gone. According to one of the beans, it was because they had been banished from the kingdom above, for a crime so terrible, and therefore been erased from history.

He also heard them say that it turned out to be an accident, that DreamXD, had framed him. But by that time it was discovered, it was too late, and he had been cast down, though it is said those three gods still search for him, in the hopes that they could bring him back.

They said his name was Blade, the god of war and blood. And that’s how he got his name.

Technoblade.

And, another funny thing is, no matter how hard he sees those gods as Philza, Soot, and Innit, like the man described, some hidden part of his mind changes that to Phil, Wilbur, and Tommy. But that was beside the point.

The point was, that no matter how nice the crows were to him, they kept trying to take him somewhere.

Usually, they’d stop if he complained or shouted, or drew his sword (never intending to kill, just to scare them off) and they’d stop. But this one was even more persistent, and Techno realised now that he’d either have to fight it (something he would like to avoid if possible, he liked crows and they sometimes brought him gifts) or run.

He chose the latter, dashing to the side the moment the crow grabbed him. It squawked in outrage and Techno realised that it couldn’t chase after him on foot, with its legs like sticks. Birds were meant to fly, not walk.

‘Looks like I win this time, eh?’

He thinks, grinning to himself. The crow that he escaped from cawed loudly, and he only had a split second to wonder what that could mean before another crow SWOOPS down out of nowhere and yoinks (he’s not even sure what that word means but it seems about right for this situation) him up in its claws.

He had jinxed it. Techno didn’t believe in superstition, but he was certain that was what had happened.

The pinkette struggled in the crow's grasp, desperate to get free before it took him to… Well, wherever it was taking him. But it was no use. He wondered why it was so determined to bring him wherever it was going. Techno supposed he’d find out, soon enough.

Eventually, after a few minutes of flying, the borrower noticed something very, very strange. The crow was taking him up. And by that, he meant really, really high up. The world below was barely visible, as they went higher and higher, through the clouds.

And once they came out of the clouds, Techno couldn’t believe his eyes.

“The kingdom above… Fucking hell it’s real…”

He muttered to himself in awe. It was made out of pristine white shining material that might’ve been made out of the clouds themselves, with magical glowing lanterns floating in the air.

Techno’s first thought was that it belonged to the ruler of this kingdom, or at least some kind of person in power, I mean it was so fine and well-kept that it had to be, right? Wrong.

On closer inspection, he realised that the people walking down below were… Normal. This was a normal town here, and these were normal civilians.

The crow flew past it though, taking Techno with it. Its wingbeats never slowed, and it showed no sign of tiredness. This was no ordinary crow, he was sure of it.

And this was no ordinary place. Chat had stopped talking altogether, and his mind felt as if it was his own, at last. It was as if someone wanted him to be peaceful, but that was silly since he was literally getting kidnapped by a bird.

What a great day Techno was having, right?

Aaaaand now the crow was flying down, towards three people that looked awfully familiar, but he just couldn’t put his finger on it and then-

Oh fuck that’s Philza, Soot and Innit. He’d recognize them anywhere, after the incident with the statue. Oh, he’s fucked. He’s going to die, oh stars he needs to get out of this mess-

‘But aren’t the gods his family?’

He brushed that thought off with a shudder. Why on earth did he keep thinking stuff like that!? It didn’t make any sense, and you better believe that he was gonna get to the bottom of this.

Not today though. He was about to get caught by some of the most powerful beings in the entire universe, and he’d actually rather not. He valued his life, after all. So he did what any self-respecting borrower would do and fucking stab the bird.

Techno hadn’t particularly wanted to stab the crow. As he might’ve mentioned before, he liked crows. There just hadn’t been another choice.

And it had worked.

The crow dropped him with a screech, alerting the three gods immediately. Their gazes fell on the bleeding crow who flew over to them with a lot of effort and landed on Philza’s outstretched arm. It healed almost instantly.

But the pinkette didn’t know any of this, because he happened to be falling when that situation had played out. And when Techno hit the ground, he felt his body scream out in pain and his head ring in agony.

The world around him felt loud and blurry. His head seemed to be sticky with what he could only assume was blood. He forced himself to stand, he needed to get out of here, needed to be safe-

Chat was back now, just as incoherent and jumbled as his thoughts, and from what he managed to make out, delusional. They kept saying something about… Dadza? Who the hell was- Oh. Wait what!?

So Chat was no help.

Techno winced. He couldn’t think, everything was just so loud and it hurt so damn much and he couldn’t understand and oh fuck did one of the Gods? beans just spot him and oh no they’re all walking towards him now.

The borrower’s eyes widen, and he couldn’t help but shrink back as the three gods towered over him, eyeing him over with such a strange expression of hope and longing that made Techno wonder if he actually was delusional.

The silence was broken when one of the gods, Innit, spoke up, voice breaking slightly and eyes glazed, as if holding back tears.

“Holy shit… Is it him? Like, really him?”

Philza responded, managing to sound calm and yet so desperate that it made Techno’s cold heart shatter, though he was not sure why.

“I don’t know Tommy (wait WHAT-), why don’t we ask him instead of talking over his head?” The angel of death suggested, and now they were all staring at him again, possibly even more intensely than before.

“So,” Philza said curiously. “Who are you, why did you stab my crow and why did it try to bring you here?”

There was no malice in his voice, it was just confusion and subtle amusement, but that just made Techno’s nerves worse. The only reason he could think of that would involve the god being amused about his half-dead state was-

Oh fuck, were they going to torture him?

“I’m Technoblade,” He said, after a few moments of hesitation. The pinkette ignored the sharp gasp of air from above, acting like he didn’t hear it, because he did not want to think of why the god might be shocked, and instead continued.

“I stabbed your crow because I was about to get seen (and look how that ended up) and I have no clue why it brought me here.” Techno knew it was not a smart idea to lie to a god, and he was anything but stupid. His injuries throbbed painfully, but the gods either didn’t notice or didn’t care.

Techno wasn’t about to guess which one…

After a very long while (in which Techno was trying his absolute hardest not to die on the spot) Soot spoke up. “So that’s a- a yes, then? It’s him?” He asked, voice cracking slightly. “Yes, Wilbur, (WHAT THE FUCK) It’s really him.”

The borrower didn’t have time to question what in the world he meant by that, because at that moment Philza reached down, and Techno realised what was about to happen a second too late.

He scrambled backwards as the hand came towards him, absolutely terrified out of his wits, but the god paid no mind to that, plucking him off the ground by his waist easily.

Techno struggled in his grasp but fell limp almost immediately. There was no way he was escaping from Philza, even though he wanted to, and besides, it just made his injuries worse. The tight grip the god had him in didn’t help either.

“What do you want from me!?”

He shouted, glaring at the gods, though it quickly fell as he remembered how easily they could crush him. Soot made a small noise (pity?) but he ignored it. “You- you really don’t remember us?” Asked Innit, with a look of despair on his face.

‘Remember you? I’ve never seen you before in my life!’

Not in this one you haven’t.

Responded one of the voices, before it faded back into the clutter of noise. “Chat?” Philza asked, and Techno almost responded with ‘Yeah, it’s making no sense…’ when he remembered that he never told them about Chat.

Something clicked behind Soot’s eyes, and he spoke up. “So you really don’t know who we are… Right?” Techno nodded. Where exactly was (Wilbur) Soot going with this? “So that means…” “Means what? I’m not about to sit around all day waiting while you give me half-formed answers,” the borrower responded, with more challenge in his tone than was wise.

It’s not like you could stop them from doing that…

Said another one of those loud voices unhelpfully. ‘Thanks a lot…’ He thought to himself irritatedly and stared at Soot expectantly, which was harder than it seemed because his eyes kept unfocusing, and the corners of his vision were blurry and stained red. ‘Blood?’

“Listen, Technoblade, I don’t know what species you think you are, but…” He hesitated again, before continuing.

“You're a god, and our brother, at that.” Soot paused, and then started saying something more. “I’m so glad we finally found you, we’ve-”

But Techno didn’t get to hear what they’d done, the blood loss had finally caught up to him, and he passed out, darkness now surrounding him as he finally drifted into a dreamless sleep.

. . .

Aaaaaand that's it, folks! Great ending we got there, right? Hope you liked it :] Big thanks to Beckyu for helping me choose how to end it, and start next chapter.

That reminds me...

@i-am-beckyu and @brick-a-doodle-do, thank you for wanting to be tagged! If you want to be tagged, comment, ask or dm me and I'll add you! :D

Bye for now!!!

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guppybubbles · 3 months

Text

Sweet Dreams are Made of This. [1/3]

(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!!!

#mcyt g/t #mcyt gt #g/t #giant/tiny #dsmp g/t #mcyt g/t community #dsmp gt #giant!tommy #giant!wilbur #giant!techno #giant!philza #tiny!wilbur #tiny!tommy #tiny!techno #guppy writes!#mcyt gt community #g/t au #g/t writing

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ey-there-little-guy · 1 year

Text

first meeting!

+2 closeups under the cut

#giant!ranboo #tiny!tubbo #mcyt g/t #dsmp g/t #dsmp gt #mcyt gt #Lulled by Waves au #Ranboo is like. 0_0! - and then Tubbo is like ┏(⊙ˍ⊙)┓#i put a surprising amount of thought into their speckles <3 #originally ranboo wasnt going to have any but i figured 'why not?'#didn't get around to drawing a shot showing Tubbo's face but ahhh whatever ^-^#ey.drawing

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kayla-crazy-stuffs · 11 months

Text

Spiderweb

Here I come with another fic :D (A bit short tho)

Hope you enjoy :]

tw: Safe/soft vore, fearplay, fear of dying, death mention

"It's not my fault, you know!?" said a fly hybrid as he flew really fast with his friend. “Yeah, yeah, shut up and keep flying! The stupid bird is about to catch up with us! I don't want to end up being bird food!” said the other.

They were both hovering around the forest they were in, trying to lose sight of the bird that was chasing them.

"Is it still behind us?!" “Yeah, it looks like it's not going to get tired anytime soon! We have to find a place to take shelter!” he answers back, flying faster.

The black-haired man let out a sigh. "I don't think I'm going to make it… My wings hurt…" The other looks at him with concern. “What nonsense are you talking about Sapnap?! Of course you're going to make it! I'm not going to let you die, much less at the hands of a stupid bird!"

Dream quickly approaches his friend and grabs his arm, dragging him along at the same speed. He quickly scanned the surroundings as they flew, his eyes fixing on a hole.

"There! There we can hide from the bird and you can rest your wings!” Sapnap nods as Dream continues to drag him. They quickly head into the hole, when Sapnap's eyes widen in fear. "Wait! Dream stop!” Dream was going to ask him what was wrong, when his eyes also widened in fear and he tried to brake suddenly.

Both hybrids collided with a spider web. “S-Shit…! How could I not see it?!” he yelled trying to get away from it, but it was impossible. The black-haired man next to him sighed deeply.

"Now we are going to die..." Dream looked at him sadly. "Nonono... We'll get out of this Sap-" "No Dream... Not this time..." he interrupted him. He went to try to convince him when a ‘loud’ laugh echoed around them.

“Well, well, well, what do we have here…?” said a voice. Dream and Sapnap looked up, both wide-eyed in terror. "Apparently two small snacks got trapped on my web, huh?"

The voice continued, which turned out to be the voice of a spider hybrid. "Let us go!" Dream yelled at him, being a hybrid, they might have a chance to make it out alive. Or so he thought until the spider spoke again.

"And why should I? You two look really delicious.” He responds with a smirk as he reaches for Sapnap, pulling him out of the web. The raven only squirms in the grip of the larger hybrid.

“Sapnap! Let him go!" Dream yelled, watching helplessly from the web. The spider just looked at him with a smirk, putting the hybrid in his hold, inside his mouth, closing it with an audible click of his teeth.

It wasn't long before the spider swallowed, sending the hybrid down his throat. “SAPNAP!” Dream watched in horror as the bulge, which was Sapnap, made its way down the larger hybrid's throat until it disappeared below the collarbone.

He licked his lips, now looking at the green fly, pulling him out of the web and bringing him closer to his lips. Dream squirmed as hard as he could, but that didn't stop the spider from shoving him into his mouth.

Immediately the tongue began to lick him,covering him in saliva. Dream tried to move away from the muscle in vain. Soon the spider got tired and pushed him to the back of his mouth,swallowing him without any effort.

Dream wriggled his way down until he entered a more open space. He looked around for a moment though he could barely see, someone hugging him from behind. Sapnap.

"Sapnap..." he said softly, looking at the Raven and hugging him back. "I’m sorry..." They both sat up, leaning against the spider’s stomach wall, as Sapnap let out a sob.

He wasn't the type of person who would show his feelings like that, but they were about to die so he really didn't care at that moment.

Meanwhile, the spider just rolled his eyes, they were crying for nothing. They would soon find out about it. So he closed his eyes and with a hand over them, he fell asleep.

#mcyt g/t #mcyt gt #mcyt vore #dsmp g/t #dsmp gt #dsmp vore #tw vore #tiny!dream #tiny!sapnap #giant!???#safe vore #soft vore #they don't know that #fearplay #fear of dying

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goosedawn · 2 years

Note

any wips / art you didn't post for the tiny friend au?? i actually live for that au it's precious ...

im glad you enjoyed that au, it was very fun to make stuff for :]

i tend to post all the finished art i do, buuuuuuuut i did manage to dig up this comic i never finished! i went back and slapped down some colour and also added a couple pages but it is still unfinished and VERY VERY messy ;P i hope you like it anyway <3!!!

tw: a little bit of blood

… I suppose it is.

they went to utah together

#goosedrawn #tiny friend au #giant!wilbur #tiny!ghostbur #g!wilbur #t!ghostbur #mcyt gt #mcyt g/t #ive forgotten how to TAG things ksjdghkjdfhg #dsmp g/t #dsmp gt #anon #anyway sorry for my absence ive been busy being obssessed with skeletons again sorry dkfjghdkfjghdfkgjh #if you for some reason also want to date papyrus. hmu i guess #if not. farewell until next time o7

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quotemenevervore · 1 year

Text

*comes out of the fic void after weeks to throw this and get dragged back in*

Content warnings: soft, safe g/t vore, character thinking they’re going to die or think it’s unsafe for a good chunk of the fic, fear and panic.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

The morning had been a slow one, flurries falling around the city as Quackity watched through the window. He’d finished his paperwork for the day, and with the snow falling, he wasn’t gonna have Foolish work on any buildings. He didn’t wanna risk losing him as well, after everything that’s happened. The city itself was still in shambles, leftover destruction from Dream’s most recent scheme. With a sigh, he dug through his pocket to find his lighter and a spare cigarette, one that had been left by Wilbur. He, too, had vanished, and Tommy had told him what had happened. He sighed, lighting it and stepping out onto the balcony. Wilbur may not have any qualms about making the office smell of cigarettes, but the blackette certainly did.

He spent a lot of his time nowadays like this, smoking and reminiscing about the past. The cold air sucked the warmth from his fingers, made the chain around his neck icy cold. The rings themselves still rested against his heart, the only way they stayed warm in the freezing weather. He didn’t even know why he wore them anymore; not even Sapnap had come to check on him after the fight, and he knew that everyone saw the death message. It seemed that they’d finally given up on him.

Like you knew they would, a voice sounding so unlike his own whispered in his head. It was only a matter of time. Abruptly putting the cigarette out, he turned back to the door, effectively cutting the thoughts off and stepping back inside to the warmth of the office.

And yet… his veins flooded with ice when he stepped in.

There was a glass jar on his desk, one that had not been there when he’d stepped out. It wasn’t the jar itself, no. It was the contents of the jar. Inside, slumped against the side of it and clearly exhausted, were his ex-fiancés. They had to have been shrunken to only a few inches tall, and yet he could still make out most of their features; Karl was asleep, hair disheveled and limbs curled awkwardly against his fiancé. Sapnap was also asleep, but he didn’t seem to be any different than usual, only shrunken.

A dark tendril curled in his core at the realization that he could do anything to them, and nobody would be any wiser. Sapnap wouldn’t be his target, prime no. Sapnap hadn’t been the one who screamed at him, who broke their engagement and tore apart his already fractured heart.

But… Sapnap would be deeply upset if he caught Quackity hurting Karl. And he didn’t have a whole lot of time at the moment anyway, he never knew when someone would come to his office. Foolish hadn’t been happy to be told that rebuilding was on hold, after all. Frowning, he thought over his options.

He wanted Karl to see how badly he hurt him. He didn’t necessarily have to kill him to do that, but he couldn’t up and hurt or toy with him if Sapnap was around. He didn’t want to lose the damaged relationship he had with the fireborn. He… could scare him, though. Carefully and quietly unscrewing the lid, he pulled the unconscious brunette out of the jar, replacing the lid with a soft click. Pulling him closer, he took in the man’s features.

He was paler than he should have been, and the bags under his eyes stood out prominently against his cheeks. His hoodie seemed baggier than it had been before, and Quackity was surprised to feel a twinge of concern. Karl didn’t seem to be taking care of himself anymore, and Sapnap has apparently just been.. letting him. He steeled himself, reminding himself of everything he’d put him through, and opened his mouth wide enough to safely place him inside.

He wasn’t going to hurt him yet. If he even chose to hurt him at all, at this point. It seemed he’d been doing a good enough job of that himself. He was just going to put him in his crop, effectively cutting off the contact between him and Sapnap. He can interrogate him later on, when Sapnap had settled in a little better with him while he tried to figure out how they’d wound up like this. For now, he didn’t trust letting the fireborn out of his sight.

The unconscious form barely even twitched as he gently rolled him around, getting him covered in saliva so that the trip down didn’t hurt either of them. Or wake him up, Quackity realized. He’d freak out if he woke up before he was fully in his crop. Well, he’d freak out either way, but it would take him longer to figure out what had happened if he woke up in his crop.

Deeming him slicked up enough, he nudged him back towards his throat with his tongue, keeping close attention on him in case he began to wake up. With barely a stir, he gently swallowed. It took two swallows to get his lanky body down, and he trailed the limp form down with a hand as his mind drifted back to the situation at hand.

Someone had shrunk his fiancés, and he needed to find out more.

~ ~ ~

Sapnap wasn’t sure what had happened when he woke up. All he knew was that his head was pounding, and he felt strange. It took a while for him to be able to open his eyes, but he almost regretted it the second he did. The world around him was warped, somehow.. but it looked like an office. If the office was built by Foolish for his giant form.

Looking up, he saw a metal roof, and something finally clicked for him: the area looked warped because he was inside a jar. And the office, it must have been giant because he’d been shrunk! Slamming his hand against the jar, he tried to break the glass, but even he could feel how thick it was. There’d be no shattering it, even if he were to try using his fire to do so. Instead of his hand, he slammed his shoulder against it, trying to knock the jar to it’s side. Several minutes passed, and all he earned himself was a sore shoulder.

A muffled sound got his attention, and his head snapped over to the balcony door where- oh, fuck. Not only was he shrunken and in someone’s office, he was in Quackity’s office. He hadn’t seen him since.. the fight. The avian walked back to the desk, sitting down and pulling his paperwork back to him with a sigh. He only glanced at the jar a moment, but upon realizing the other was awake he had the other’s full attention.

“Hang on, I’m turning the jar.” Sapnap stepped back as he reached over, carefully turning the jar on its side and unscrewing the lid. The fireborn hesitated only a moment before coming out of the jar and sitting down a little ways away from the giant. He couldn’t help the instinctual fear he felt from looking up at the other, even if he trusted Quackity wouldn’t hurt him.

“So, do you have any idea how this happened?” He shook his head. “I was just sleeping at Kinoko, then I woke up in that jar.” The other hummed in acknowledgment, tapping his pen against the paper absentmindedly. “I didn’t even know this was a thing until now.” “Me either.” Sapnap admitted.

A small silence followed, but the avian cut it short. “I will do my best to look into this, but until then, it may be safer for you to stay here.” The fireborn sucked in a small breath, knowing that mentioning Karl would be a bad idea. Someone needed to take care of him, but.. Quackity wasn’t likely to let him go home like this. Maybe.. maybe some of the other Kinoko members can check in on him. Hopefully George wouldn’t be completely knocked out the whole time he’s gone… “Yeah, probably.”

Quackity could tell what was bothering the other, and he sighed. “I’m sure Karl will be fine until I figure out what happened.” “Yeah…” He really wouldn’t be if he got any worse. He was barely remembering to eat as it was. But there were more pressing matters at the current hand, such as the giant hand sitting right in front of him. Jerking back, he looked up to the other’s face. “I'm not gonna make you stay in my office all the time, we’re gonna go to my house.” “You have a house?” “Well, I’m currently staying in a penthouse in one of the standing hotels. The rest of the damn country got blown to kingdom come thanks to Dream.”

Sapnap carefully clambered onto the other’s hand, trying not to overthink the whole situation. He was crawling into his fucking fiancé’s hand, while his other one is at home continuing to get worse. Hell, he doesn’t even know how this happened- did something similar happen to Karl? The hand curled slightly around him, steadying him as Quackity started to leave the office, locking the door behind him.

The strangest thing to Sapnap, as he was held against the other’s chest, is that he swore he could hear Karl. But that couldn’t be right, right? Surely he’s just imagining it since he’s really worried..

~ ~ ~

Karl had had the strangest nightmare. Dream had been chasing him down, taunting him that he’d ruined his relationship with his fiancés to trip him up. No matter how fast he ran, Dream always seemed a step ahead, and threw a weird potion at him. And when he woke up, he was held tightly in a now giant Dream’s fist, which only tightened as he understandably panicked and thrashed. The last thing he heard before he felt his bones strain under the pressure was , “Don’t worry. Your precious fiancé will join you soon.”

He woke up with a gasp, breathing the muggy air in heavily as his heart tried to calm down. Jame- Sapnap must have had a similar nightmare, if the warm and restrictive surroundings meant anything. Not even counting the loud heartbeat he could hear, the loud whoosh of air as he breathed deeply in and out. But when he opened his eyes.. Sapnap wasn’t there. Plus, his surroundings seemed damp- was this another tale? Was he teleported in his sleep? Dammit, he usually woke up when that happened!

He sat up, eyes narrowing as he tried to decipher what was going on. So his surroundings were damp, dark, and warm, and also incredibly soft. It held him kind of tightly, like an embrace. It seemed to move around him, like it was- he gasped, scrambling back and flinching when his back hit a wall. He was in something. He was in something living, he’d been eaten!

“Hey! Can you hear me? Please let me out!” He kicked his feet out, hands scrambling for purchase against the walls- the stomach walls, which could start secreting acid at any moment- “Please!” He shrieked, panic overtaking him as he started to thrash in his confines. “I can’t- Let me out!”

He struggled for as long as he could, but he already had so little energy to begin with, and he went limp with a shudder, panting for air as tears began to stream down his saliva-coated face. He hadn’t even made a bruise, he didn’t think. There’d been no pained noise from whatever had eaten him. All he’d done was wear himself out. Maybe.. maybe he could sleep through it. Could just respawn in the In Between, lose his second life and just hide away. He couldn’t get away from XD or his demands, but he could hide from everyone to keep them safe.

His tears only slowed because he let his eyes drift close, and he finally let his mind drift off.

~ ~ ~

Quackity felt slightly guilty as he watched his fiancé sleep on the pillow beside him. His other hand smoothed over his abdomen, where his other fiancé had just went back to sleep. He wasn’t going to lie: the hurt, the fear and misery in Karl’s voice made a dark,dark tendril of satisfaction curl around his heart. He’d finally given the other man the treatment he’d put him through. But..

He’d be lying if the other’s hiccuping sobs didn’t also twist his heart in a way that threatened to break it. He’d only just started quieting down when Quackity got them all to his room, and by the time he had both Sapnap and himself laid down for the night, he could tell the other was already asleep. But while he and Sapnap slept, the avian himself was plagued by his emotions, his heart warring over itself over and over again. On one hand, Charlie’s words kept echoing through his head, repeating his own lessons to him. And even his own commentary..

Is revenge worth it? …No.

And yet… he still found himself justifying his actions. He sighed, letting his eyes fall shut. He wouldn’t sleep, he knew that, but he could rest his eyes at the very least.

In the morning, he brought some food and water to Sapnap, leaving it and the tiny man on the floor so he could roam around. “I’ll let you know when I’m at the door, and I’ll give you time in case you’re right behind it before I open it, okay?” “Sounds fine to me.” Sapnap already knew he couldn’t squeeze under the door, and climbing stuff could lead to him falling and dying to the fall damage, so he simply accepted his current situation. Not imprisonment, because as soon as he thinks of it like that he’s screwed. But he just can’t do much on his own at the moment, and that was fine. It had to be.

Quackity offered him a soft smile and a goodbye before he closed the door, sighing as he began his path to his office. The snow had ended, and Foolish was eager to work again so he had to be there to get the estimate that the other had for him. He put Karl on the back burner for the moment, reminding himself to let him out so they both could eat later on. He just wanted the other to start looking normal so he’d feel less guilty, is all. He tried to erase the guilt from his heart as he shut the door to his office.

And now he waited.

~ ~ ~

“-And I’m telling you that that might not work.” Karl’s eyes snapped open when he heard someone speaking, his brain registering it as Drew- no, Helga?- Quackity. Quackity was speaking, and his voice seemed like it was echoing through the organ that he was still in. “Quackity..?” He whispered, eyes wide in disbelief. Quackity sounded too close to be anything but the person who had eaten him. But how was he still alive?

There was no way he wasn’t trying to kill him, not after what had transpired between them. He did not remember the fight fully, it all vague and fuzzy, but he had enough pieces to put it together. He remembered the rainy evening, the distress he felt, the distraught on his fiancés face when he told him to make Quackity leave, and Quackity’s own hurt and anger that he threw right back at him. Quackity wanted him to suffer, and he chose the worst fate he could think of to bestow on him.

Which… also meant that the nightmare he’d had hadn’t been a nightmare. It had to have been real, how else would Quackity have managed to swallow him otherwise? He was confused, scared and above all just upset, and it made itself known when a sob tore itself out of his throat unexpectedly. Everything around him seemed to still, and he slapped a hand over his mouth, terrified. Quackity had to have known he was awake. His shoulders continued to shake with muffled cries as he heard the larger dismiss whoever he’d been speaking with before. A few moments passed, and something pressed against him.

“Relax, you’re safe.” “Safe!?” “It’s a crop, it’s not my actual stomach. Chill out.” The nonchalant, bored tone that Quackity had made him sick with worry. He bit back another sob, thinking about lashing out and hitting at him again. But then he’d probably just get put into his stomach.. But wasn’t he just gonna end up there when he finally got done with him? He hadn’t even realized he started shaking until a soft sigh came from above and the pressure against him started moving.

His hand. It had to have been his hand.

“…Why-“ he wasn’t proud of his voice cracking, and when he realized what he was asking he stopped. Why would you do this? As if he didn’t already figure it out. And it seemed that Quackity knew what he was going to ask, because he remained silent for a moment before responding, bitterness evident in every word. “You know why.” And, yea, he did now, but he hadn’t even remembered what had happened between them. Between the tales, XD’s constant games, and him getting nowhere closer to getting a grasp on his abilities, he hasn’t been able to get his memory back together again. He can’t even remember the last time he updated his memory book..

But Quackity wouldn’t believe that. He knew that for a fact. So instead of responding, he fell limp against the wall, trying to keep his tears at bay. He was going to die thanks to something he couldn’t even control. He still shook, unable to stop the fear still running through him, but he was not comforted again.

~ ~ ~

He didn’t even realize he’d fallen asleep until his eyes snapped open as the organ around him squeezed inwards. His brain caught on quickly, and he flailed his limbs around. No, please, I don’t wanna go like this- “Karl, stop.” The command was harsh, and he flinched, the walls squishing him into a ball. He panted, tears already streaming down his face. He wanted to at least say goodbye to Mas- Sapnap, and George-

“You’re not dying. I'm bringing you up.” His words were softer than before, and the shift hurt his already confused brain. But he got the gist of what the other wanted, holding still and hoping against everything that he was just bringing him out.

Thankfully, he’d been right. Squished back up through the tight muscles of his throat wasn't all too pleasant, and seeing the sharp teeth before him when he’d finally escaped the pressure only spiked his heart rate. But he was gently grabbed by the man’s tree-like fingers, and deposited onto the desk. Beside him sat a cracker, with a slice of meat and cheese atop it, along with a small container full of water. There was a large, possibly twice the size of himself, sandwich set on a plate not that far away. A drink was also there, though Karl couldn’t tell what it was.

He turned back to the giant once he’d sat himself down, questioning the small meal obviously meant for him. “You have to eat too, I’m not that cruel.” His eyes and words were emotionless, and the neutral line of his mouth didn’t give the brunette any less anxiety. He.. thought about running. Jumping off the desk, see if he survived the fall damage then running off to find himself a solution to the tale he was in. He hadn’t even scooted that far to the edge before a hand shot out, wrapping tightly around him as he was yanked upwards to be face to face with the now irritated Mexican.

“If you’re going to kill yourself anyway, I’ll gladly just eat you. Otherwise, I’d eat what’s provided.” He swallowed nervously at the words, body jerking from fear, but did not make another attempt to jump when he was set back down. He wondered idly if the aches he felt were phantom pains or if he’d just been bruised, but he didn’t mention it. He simply sat down and started eating the food provided to him.

If he pushed any further, would he be denied food and water as well?

“I’m sorry..” he mumbled, though it went unheard as the other continued his sandwich. A shudder went through his body as he thought of every way he could be tormented by his former fiancé. He could be bitten, starved, swallowed into the other’s actual stomach, the other could literally crush his bones in his fist if he wanted to- his shoulders jerked with a sob, but he forced himself to be quiet, shoving a piece of cheese into his mouth to muffle the cries threatening to escape. Anything that could get him in trouble he needed to avoid. He just needed to behave, and maybe he’d be released.

Hopefully.

When they both had finished eating, he was swallowed again, and while he didn’t fight, he couldn’t stop the shivers wracking his small form. They barely relaxed when he slipped into the other’s crop again, this time recognizing it for what it was. He took a deep shuddery breath, pressing his back against the closest wall to him. All he could do now was behave and pray the other would have mercy on him.

~ ~ ~

They continued like this for about a week, Karl refusing to speak unless it was to answer a direct question. Strangely enough, the questions themselves weren’t what he expected. He’d expected taunting and scathing remarks, and instead was asked if he’d had enough to eat or enough water to drink. He’d been granted access to the desk, as long as he didn’t try to jump off of it again while the other finished eating. And even then, he barely utilized it, too scared to be seen as stepping out of line.

He’d been with Quackity for long enough that he knows he has Sapnap as well, and he knows the other is purposely keeping him from knowing Karl’s whereabouts, and keeping them separate. He wonders if that’s part of his punishment. He wished he’d remembered sooner, he wished he never opened his mouth that night. Maybe then he wouldn’t be sitting in the crop of one of his fiancés wondering when he was going to be killed.

There was a part of him that held out hope, that Quackity would realize he didn’t want to do this and free him, or even just let him see Sapnap again before he killed him. He knew after everything he was probably beyond forgiveness, so all he wanted was mercy. But today seemed different, and Karl had a feeling when he woke up that his time was running out. Quackity didn’t speak to him once, nor let him out for both of them to eat. He hung his head in resignation and hoped it wouldn’t be too painful.

~ ~ ~

Quackity had a nightmare unlike the others. In this one, he was put in the same situation he put Karl in, but it had been Schlatt to do it. And then it changed to Charlie at some point, the lessons going through his head again before he was killed, and jolting awake. He was amazed he didn’t wake Karl or Sapnap up, carefully sitting up to get ready without disrupting either. He left food and water for Sapnap, placed his pillow on the floor, and shut the door.

He threw himself into his work, be it physical labor or paperwork. And yea, he should stop, he should let Karl out, get them both fed, but every time he tried to, his anxiety crept up and locked his body up. Foolish had noticed it as well, and told him to head back to his house for the day. Thanking him, and reminding himself to give the totem some extra gems as payment for looking out for him as well as everything else, he went back to the room.

Which led them to now, where Karl had started fidgeting slightly but hiding the movement to the best of his ability while Quackity read a book to distract himself with Sapnap sitting on the desk he was sitting at. But distractions can only work for so long, and Sapnap hadn’t had anything to distract himself from his worry about his memory-losing fiancé. Finally, after a week of staying with Quackity, he built up the courage to ask.

“…Can you do something for me?” Sapnap asked quietly. It was unlike him, catching Quackity’s attention instantly. He put the book he’d been reading to the side, giving the fireborn his full attention. “What?” “I.. know you aren’t a fan of Karl anymore. And I understand why you’d still be upset over what happened. But.. Can you please check on him?” He knew his face had twisted into a frown, but his attention became divided and he wasn’t focusing on hiding his expression.

Karl hadn’t fought back since that first outburst when he released him the first time. Not even when he continued to release him and let him eat, which the dark part of his brain wanted him not to. And yea, he did seem a little weaker from not moving but the bags under his eyes were fading, meaning he was finally getting better. It… warmed his heart, unfortunately. It seemed that the brunette finally realized he wasn’t going to be truly eaten every time he’s stored, and he wasn’t shaking anymore. Until today, that is.

But the main thing is that he also never spoke. Karl was a very vocal person, it was part of the reason Quackity liked him so much. And since the outburst, he hasn’t spoken more than a few words. He knew he cried, but that dark part of his mind relished in it, like it relished when Dream begged and cried. It.. was starting to make him feel sick.

He’d been having nightmares about his second death that whole week. About what Charlie, his closest friend since his fiancés, said before killing him.

You are not a good person.

No, he wasn’t. And he was down to his final life, having nobody but his shrunken and distraught fiancés to keep him company when he caused their divide to begin with. He sighed heavily, overcome with conflict. “..why?” Sapnap shrunk back at the question, but he didn’t flinch. “It’s just… I can’t rely on George to watch over him. He’s always sleeping now, I can’t ever wake him up. And prime knows Dream’s probably got-“ “What does that have to do with Karl?” Sapnap looked worried, tail flicking with nervousness.

“Karl.. doesn’t really remember things anymore. He doesn’t remember me half the time. I.. that night, I thought he’d been playing a sick joke, and I confronted him and he just broke down. He sounded so scared. I’ve.. I've tried my best to keep up with him, help him remember stuff like eating or showering or anything and he won’t. He keeps disappearing, coming back injured or shaky and he keeps calling me by a different name and it’s hard to take care of him alone-“ Quackity’s eyes widened and he raised a hand towards Sapnap to get him to stop. “Breathe, Sapnap. You have to breathe.”

“He probably didn’t want me telling you.” He rasped out before the stern look of the avian finally stopped him. Quackity leaned back as he caught his breath, mulling over everything Sapnap had spilled. Karl was having memory problems. It doesn’t explain why he’s been disappearing, but it does explain the outburst, at least. He wasn’t willing to forgive yet, especially considering that Karl seems to remember what he’d done now. Though, Sapnap probably reminded him every time he didn’t remember.

But… that made sense. The bagginess to his clothes, the paleness to his skin, the severe bags under his eyes… Karl wasn’t taking care of himself. He wasn’t remembering to. It was like he’d become a shell of who he used to be. And Sapnap hadn’t been letting him shrivel up, he’d been trying his damndest to get through to him.

…Suddenly, revenge didn’t feel so nice.

“You’re going to hate me.” Quackity muttered, shaking his head. He knew he had to admit the truth. There was no way he could keep this charade up, not anymore. “Please, Quackity-“ “It’s not that. I.. can’t go check on Karl because he’s here.” Letting Sapnap process that, he started the process of bringing his other fiancé up. Karl didn’t even squirm, surely he knew what was happening now.

At least this time he did deserve his fiancés’ anger.

Gently spitting him into his palm, he didn’t spare Sapnap a glance as he dried the other off with a sleeve. He couldn’t see the hurt, the anger from him. He already felt guilty enough. Quickly drying him off to the best of his ability, he placed the brunette down beside Sapnap and pulled away from the desk, moving his chair away to give them space.

“Sapnap!” “Karl!” He tackled the other in a hug, not caring about the residual saliva soaking into his clothes. He pulled back enough to look at his face, surprised to see the bags under his eyes almost completely faded. He seemed to have more energy as well, yanking the other back into a hug. “I thought he was gonna kill me..” he whispered into the fireborn’s ear. “I’m sorry-“ “But he didn’t. He even took care of me. Why?” Sapnap shook his head. “I don’t know.” His eyes shifted to watch the avian, who remained a good distance away and was avoiding eye contact. He didn’t miss the shift in the air, the guilty silence he was emitting.

“So..” he cleared his throat, catching the other’s attention. There was still no eye contact from him, though. “Is there a reason you ate Karl?” “Stored, not eaten. And I think you can figure that out on your own-“ “But the way you’ve been acting lately tells me that you’re out for blood from anyone who’s wronged you. Karl’s included in that, so why..?” Quackity looked at the two, expression unreadable. Eventually, his shoulders slumped, and he sighed. “I’m on my last life, Sapnap. I’ve lost everyone I cared about. Hell, Las Nevadas is still completely demolished despite me and Foolish working on it. I don’t want to go out in a blaze of overworking only for everything to crumble down like Wilbur did, and I already feel like I’m too far down that path to change.”

“Quackity..” “I’m tired. I thought safety lied in power, and I’ve been proven wrong three times now. The only reason I haven’t given up on this place is because Foolish hasn’t. And if he has, he hasn’t shown it.” Yet.. He forced himself to continue. “There’s no point in getting revenge anymore. All it’s gotten me is scars and pain. Besides, I hadn’t known the whole story behind Karl until now.”

The brunette startled at the mention of his name. “Me?” “Your memory problems. It explains why you yelled at me, you didn’t remember who I was. And you looked like shit when I first pulled you out of that jar, like you hadn’t been taking care of yourself.” Karl looked away, embarrassment tinging his cheeks pink. “I try..” “It’s not your fault. You can’t really control the fact that you can’t remember.” Hesitantly, he scooted his chair closer to the desk. When neither tiny flinched away, he scooted close enough that he could rest his head on his hands on the table to be close to eye level with them.

Sapnap came forward, sitting right in front of him while Karl stayed his distance. He didn’t blame the man, but his heart did hurt at that. When it had just been the two of them, when he let him out to eat, he’d sat close by. Did he do it out of fear? He couldn’t let his mind linger on it, guilt already eating away at his core. Instead, he chose to breach the other topic consuming his thoughts.

“How long has the memory loss gone on for?” He asked softly. Karl looked guilty, sad and scared all in one, and it made Quackity want to recoil and give them distance again. Karl broke his gaze first, fiddling with his sleeves nervously. “Since before Mex- El Rapids. It’s why I begged everyone to leave, something told me it wasn’t safe there anymore.” “And you didn’t think to let me know? Send a quick message saying ‘Hey we’re leaving I don’t think it’s safe here anymore’?” The look on Karl’s face told him what he knew the answer was going to be. “I’m sorry, I for-“ “But Sapnap doesn’t have memory issues.” He gently cut the other off. Sapnap looked guilty as well. “I do take blame for that, and for not inviting you to Kinoko or reaching out sooner. Karl told me he’d done it, and by the time it occurred to me that he probably forgot to, I couldn’t trust him to be alone long enough for me to find and explain everything to you. I searched for months, Quackity. And I already told you about George, he’s asleep all the time. He looks like shit too, but nobody can ever get him up or keep him up.”

Quackity sighed. “I.. can’t forget the shit you said to me, Karl. You really fucking hurt me.” “I know..” tears welled in the shrunken man’s eyes. “But, I may be able to forgive you, now that I know the whole story.” The hope in his other fiancé’s eyes made him continue. “And, I’m sorry for trapping you in my crop and not taking your fear seriously.” “I wasn’t scared the whole time, I kinda figured you weren’t trying to kill me for a while.” “Then I’m sorry I didn’t take your distress seriously. I just got lost in my want for revenge again that-“ “Again?” “Purpled wanted to take my second life. Dream backed him up and so did my right hand man.” “Why would Dream want revenge on you?”

“I went to the prison every day, trying to get him to give me the revival book. It was after he murdered Tommy. I..” he felt reluctant to continue, knowing it would upset Sapnap and Karl both, but everything should have been on the table to begin with. He won’t make the same mistake again. “I snuck in weapons. Or, Sam let me in actually. We came to an agreement about it.” Sapnap sucked in a breath. “You tortured him?” “Yeah.” He felt proud when his voice didn’t hold the same bored tone it had when he spoke about torturing Dream in the past. It was progress.

Maybe he did need the lesson from Slimesicle.

“I can’t kill Dream.” Sapnap spoke up. He didn’t seem too upset about the torture, but he could have also developed a good poker face. “There’s a fucking god that won’t let me.” “Really?” “It’s, what’s his name- I found the opposite of the revival book. The book of death. I wrote Dream’s name in it and he showed up and told me I couldn’t kill him. He said if I tried despite the warning, he’d erase me from existence.” “What?” “Yeah. So, I couldn’t kill him when he escaped.” Quackity nodded, not quite understanding why he was being told this.

Karl caught on faster, realizing that they were sharing the secrets they couldn’t spill to just anyone. Perhaps… they were doing it as a way to rekindle their relationship? Showing that they can trust each other? “I’m a time traveler.” If felt foreign, coming out of his mouth put that way. But he didn’t let himself back down. He wanted to fix things just as much as the other two seemed to want to. When he had both fiancés attention, he continued. “I know it’s like impossible and-“ “There’s been crazier stuff on this server, man. I believe you.” “Could it be causing your memory loss?” Both sounded genuine and concerned, and it made him want to cry. He’s been dealing with all this alone for so long- why didn’t he confide in them sooner?

“There’s a god, XD-“ “That’s the fucker! Sorry, sorry. Continue.” “Right, so he gave me the ability to travel through time, forwards and backwards, except he never gives me the power to control it. He says he does, he says I can learn it, but I still just keep randomly being pulled across time. I’ve met so many variations of ourselves, our ancestors, our descendants, and they’ve tried to kill me or I’d have no choice but to kill them and-“ Quackity gently scooped him into his hand, using his other hand to run a finger down his back. “Breathe, Karl. You’re starting to panic.”

Sapnap sat in thought for a moment, piecing everything they’d been told together. “That explains everything.” He looked up at the two, raising a hand towards Karl so Quackity got the hint and picked him up too. “The memory loss, the absences, calling me by different names- it’s all because of the time traveling.” Karl nodded, sniffling. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you guys sooner, I just didn’t want to be disregarded.” “Karl.” Quackity’s voice had softened. He hadn’t realized the extent of what his fiancé had been suffering through alone, and it made him feel awful. He found it a lot easier to forgive the outburst now. “We never would have turned you away for something like that. It would have saved us all a lot of heartbreak, honestly. I understand your fears, trust me. But you two were the ones who told me I shouldn’t live under them. We all have skeletons, but you shouldn’t have had to face this alone all this time. I’m sorry I didn’t notice.” “You weren’t supposed to. Must have done a pretty good job hiding it, then.” He offered a smile. “Seriously, though. You could have told us sooner, we may have been able to catch onto it and help you before it got this bad.” Sapnap added. “I’m sorry.” “You have nothing to apologize for, mi amor.”

The confusion on the brunette’s face at the nickname yanked on Quackity’s heartstrings, and he came to an impulsive decision. Lifting both his fiancés up to his face, he pressed a kiss to both of them, his lips taking up a good amount of their faces. Sapnap gasped at first, breaking off into laughter as he squirmed from the affection trap he’d been placed in. A smile stayed on the avian’s face as he pulled away, looking at both his fiancés with adoration.

Karl had turned red, confusion and worry flooding his features. “But.. I thought-“ “I can’t say I can’t forgive you knowing the full truth now. You’ve been suffering enough, you don’t need me adding onto it.” “You never did..” Tears finally started to spill from his eyes, and Quackity was quick to reassure, unknowing if they were sad or happy tears. “By separating from you two. By not reaching out myself. I should have, but I thought you guys were just busy for a bit. I could have kept your memory from twisting around and making you believe that I had been guilty of taking your first life.” “Oh, can we not deal with the fucking logistics of everything? I want to kiss you both!” Both fiancés laughed at the fireborn’s outburst, and more at his pout, but they indulged him regardless, Karl kissing him before Quackity smothered both of them with another kiss.

Things weren’t perfect, not by a long shot. And they wouldn’t be until they find out how this had happened, and how to reverse it along with helping Karl with his time traveling issues. But, Quackity had one life left, and he was going to be damned if he didn’t spend it with the two men he loved. He was going to make sure they were going to be okay.

#mcyt g/t #mcyt gt #mcyt vore #safe vore #soft vore #g/t vore #fear play #dsmp gt #dsmp g/t #dsmp vore

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a-xyz-s · 1 year

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2nd teaser for "Death gave me a second chance"??

Have at thee! :D

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dingbatnix · 1 month

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Venture

Chapter 7

Yeah not much to say here, other than the fact that I'm super excited. The story is finally gonna start picking up! Yes! Anyway, enjoy!

Chapter 1

Chapter 6

Dream + Tommy reference

Word Count: 4,800 (exactly!)

Warnings: Spiders and yeah that's about it.

Tommy hit the ground hard. He managed to bring his arms up in time to cushion his head, at least, but his knees and chest and elbows cracked painfully against the unforgiving stone ground. The world swirled for several moments as his mind caught up with his body, and after about a minute or two, he pushed himself upright with a groan and a wheeze. His body hurt, accumulated scrapes and bruises throbbing in random intervals all throughout his skin.

Despite his aches and pains, the teen clambered back up on his feet. Tommy glanced behind himself, at the ledge he had fallen off, and grimaced. It was slanted heavily towards him, leaving an outcropping high above his head, and he didn’t think he’d be able to climb back up. In reality, it couldn’t have been higher than a foot or two, but when you were only three inches tall…

Tommy turned away from the cliff, assessing his options. There was a way forward, thankfully, a yawning void that spanned for what seemed miles and miles.

“Hello?” He called, and his voice echoed for a long, long time before it petered out. The teen swallowed, glanced back up at the ledge he had fallen from, then started walking again.

As before, he stuck close to the wall, occasionally brushing a hand against it to make sure he was going in the same direction. He didn’t know how long he walked in the never-ending darkness, but a gnawing hunger grew in the pit of his stomach, and his mouth was dry.

Tommy kinda wished that he had grabbed his quilt before he made a break for it. The cave system was cold, and his worn, stained shirt was not doing its job in keeping him warm. The fact that he was wearing shorts wasn't really helping, either.

Up ahead, there was the faintest glow of light. Tommy picked up the pace despite his aching legs, eager to be able to see his surroundings. In his rush to reach the light, he may have tripped over stray rocks and scraped his bruised knees more than once, but nobody needed to know about that.

Nobody needed to know that being alone, in the dark, was making him panic, just a little.

As Tommy grew closer to the light, he noticed shapes pushed up against the walls, lumps of crushed up rock, coals, and even a rusty old pickaxe that he had to climb over. He finally got close enough to see the area clearly, blearily blinking his eyes in the light and gazing at his surroundings.

Massive wooden beams were set into the walls, bracing against the thick stone. Impossibly high over his head hung massive lanterns, the source of the warm illumination, suspended from the wooden rafters. Tommy’s neck hurt if he stared at them too long, the angle painful and awkward, so he set his gaze back down.

Not too far away, the stone floor was set with wooden flooring, which gave Tommy little issues when he had to climb up the slight ledge the plank made. The flooring spanned the whole way along the tunnel, and there looked to be offshoots of tunnels spaced along the walls.

Was he in an abandoned mineshaft?!

If that was the case, then that meant that there had to be another way out. No human would have fit through the hole he’d crawled through, so that meant that Tommy had some hope of escaping this massive cave.

He eventually came up to a chest, over a dozen times his own height. He stared up at it with wide eyes before his expression darkened into a glare. There was no way he'd ever get it open on his own, no matter how much he wanted to see what was inside.

Something hissed behind him, making him jolt with a yelp. He whirled around, heart stopping at the sight of the massive arachnid creeping up behind him. Tommy shrieked and bolted, sprinting away from the gigantic spider.

He could hear its legs clicking against the wooden planks of the floor as it skittered after him, which only spurred the blond to run faster. Tommy glanced over his shoulder and saw eight red eyes blinking one-by-one as it took casual steps after him. Tommy clenched his jaw. He wasn’t even fast enough to run away from the thing when it walked! How the fuck was he gonna survive when he couldn’t even outrun the damn thing?

His foot suddenly met air, and he fell for the second time that day, still screaming.

…

°°°°°°

Dream was…Dream was panicking, just a little bit. He had made a mistake, turning his gaze away from Tommy for just those few seconds to dig up a clump of yarrow (it was good for infections, and he liked to collect herbs he could use in place of healing and regeneration potions,) and in the next second, when he glanced over at the teen to check on him, he was gone.

He called out for the teen, and then cursed when he didn’t get an answer. He hadn’t heard any animals approach, nor any screams from a teenager being mauled by a raccoon or something. There weren’t any animal tracks that Dream could see, which meant only one thing. Either Tommy had wandered off, or he had run away. Dream was willing to bet the teen had done the latter. He didn’t seem like the type to just wander off without a purpose in mind.

The assassin swallowed down a swell of anxiety and crouched to the ground, scanning it for any sign of where Tommy had gone to. If he was lucky, he would catch up to the teen before anything bad happened. If not…Dream didn’t want to think about what would happen if not. He cared about Tommy, and he’d be crushed if anything happened to the loud-mouthed teenager.

It took him nearly an hour of meticulous nose-to-the-ground searching, but he finally found a trail of tiny, smallfolk sized footprints leading away into the undergrowth. From there, it didn’t take Dream long to follow them and find a small cliff blocking the path not even thirty meters away. There, the trail took an abrupt left turn along the wall for several paces, where it stopped at a crack in the stone about as wide as Dream’s hand.

He crouched down on his hands and knees to peer inside of the crack, hoping that he would spot a miniature teenager huddled up inside, but he had no such luck. Instead, a gaping pit of darkness met his gaze, making Dream’s brow furrow behind his mask.

“Hello?” He called into the hole, voice echoing through the small entrance. “Tommy? Hello?” There wasn’t any answer other than the reverberation of his own words. Dream bit at his lip before shoving his arm into the hole. It didn’t get very far, about a third of the way up his forearm, and the rough edges of the stone caught on the wrap around his skin, but it was enough for Dream to tell that it opened up into a wide space behind the wall of stone.

Dream pulled his arm free and sat up, casting his gaze around in search of something to break the crack open further. He didn’t usually carry a pickaxe with him (he wasn’t exactly The Blade, he was more skilled with an axe or a sword) so he had to find something he could use in place of the aforementioned tool.

His eyes settled on a branch of a tree that looked sturdy enough, relatively thick along the whole length and low enough to the ground that Dream could break it off safely. He pushed himself to his feet and made his way over to the tree, reaching up to the branch and giving it an experimental tug. It didn’t budge, so Dream drew his sword and reared back, winding up to chop at the base of the branch. It took several heavy blows for the limb to be loose enough for Dream to break it off. He wiped the oozing tree sap from his blade, sheathed it, and snatched up the dismembered tree branch with a huff.

Dream wedged the thicker end of the branch into the crack and shoved against it, wood scraping against stone as he strained to break open the wall of the cliff. It only took a couple of harsh shoves to break the crack open wider, and then it was only a matter of leveraging the branch against the edges to make the hole large enough for him to squeeze through.

The assassin dropped the somewhat-mangled branch to the side, panting slightly, and ducked inside of the gaping, dark hole he had made. It took a bit of shimmying, but he managed to stumble out through the other side into an open space. He wrinkled his nose, breathing in the familiar scent of stale, musty cave air. He wasn’t a fan of being underground. It brought up unpleasant memories that he’d rather not dwell on.

He rummaged in one of his pockets for a moment before bringing out a torch and lighting it in one swift motion with the flint. Light flared up, flickering and illuminating the relatively large cavern. Dream examined the ground, searching for any more obvious trails to follow.

Unfortunately, Dream’s demolition of the stone wall had erased any evidence of anything passing through the cave. The flickering torch light wasn’t helping either, casting down shadows that danced and jittered against the jagged rock of the ground.

Humming slightly, Dream straightened and glanced around. He could always try calling out again…

He did so, voice echoing in the small cavern, worry evident in his tone even though he tried to suppress it. "Tommy? Hey, are you in here?”

The faintest echo of a scream was the only thing he got in reply, bouncing off of the walls and piercing into Dream’s ears. The sound, barely even a whisper, broke the heavy silence of the cavern and spurred the man into motion, legs already striding towards the origin of the noise. Worry flared in his chest, and he actively had to stop himself from sprinting through the cavern, lest he run past Tommy, or worse, run him over.

As he walked, the evidence of past mining began to appear. Lanterns illuminated the way, thick support beams braced into the walls, planks of wood bridging across gaps and ravines, even the occasional abandoned minecart or chest passed by as he moved. A part of Dream wanted to stop and search through the chests for any forgotten valuables, but he pushed that part of his mind aside. Finding Tommy was exponentially more important, especially since the teen might be in danger.

A short dropoff spanning a few feet ended the path abruptly, and Dream slid to a halt, glancing down at the short ledge. Down below, a massive tangle of spiderwebs was strung out between the stone walls, blocking the way forward in a sticky, inconvenient mass. Had Tommy slipped past the webs…? Shit. If the teen was in immediate danger, it would take Dream too long to cut through all of the spider silk to get to him in time.

“Tommy…? Can you hear me?” Dream called out, searching for the least dense section of webbing. He could burn the silk, if he needed to, but he’d use that as a last resort. If Tommy was underneath the mass of webs, that would only end badly.

“Dream!” A tiny, breathless voice shrieked, so close that it made the man startle. Dream sucked in a gasp, eyes searching for the source of the small noise. Tommy? But where the hell was he? All he could see were the spiderwebs, bathed in an orange-yellow glow from his flickering torch and the distant amber light of the lanterns overhead.

It took him longer than he’d like to admit, but finally, his eyes settled on what must��have been Tommy. The poor teen was so tangled and twisted in a mass of webbing that he blended in with it, clumps of sticky silk globbed up around his tiny limbs and body. Dream breathed out a sigh of relief.

“Tommy!” He called down, sinking down to his knees to get a closer look at the borrower’s predicament. He braced his free hand against the edge of the drop, bringing his torch down closer to Tommy’s position to see him better. “Are you alright?”

Tommy’s miniature face was screwed up in panic, and he writhed, tangling himself even more in the spider’s silk. “Do you fucking think I’m alright? I’m fucking stuck, and there’s giant spiders down here!” His voice was shrill and full of terror, and his breathing seemed short.

Dream chewed at his lip again, already trying to puzzle out a way to get down to Tommy. The teen was too far down for Dream to reach, so he’d have to drop down into the pit of webs. He grimaced.

“Stay there, I’ll get you out. Just give me a moment,” he assured the teen, who shot him a dirty look. “Where the fuck am I gonna go? The market? I can’t move, you twat!”

Dream bit back the grin that formed at the blond’s remark and shifted so that he was sitting on the edge of the drop. His torch was set down on the edge, slightly hanging over the precipice to provide light. Dream slung his legs down, sitting on the ledge, and eased himself down until his feet met the ground. There was some resistance as his boots broke through the spiderwebs, but he weighed more than enough to easily snap through the thin strands. It was moving through them that was going to be the problem.

The webs came up to about mid-thigh, sticky strands immediately clinging to his pants and boots. Dream grimaced, pulling out his sword and slashing through the webs in front of his path. Tommy was just a few feet to the side, so it wouldn’t take long to reach the teen.

“Dream!” Tommy yelped suddenly, and there was the slightest shff of movement behind him. The assassin’s body reacted before his mind could. His sword was buried in the black exoskeleton of the spider’s body before he realized, instantly killing the arachnid. Its eight legs twitched in its final throes, and then it fell still.

“Damn,” Dream murmured, yanking his sword from the spider’s carapace with a sickening crack. He shook the blood from his sword while holding back a gag. He wasn’t a big fan of spiders, either, big or small.

Further down the mineshaft, a cacophony of angry hissing echoed, and dozens of furious red eyes flickered open. Dream choked, eyes widening as the sound of many, many legs skittered into the light from various cracks and crevices in the walls. Crap! They needed to get out of the cave!

He lunged for Tommy, wrapping his fingers around the teen’s little body and yanking him free, webs and all. Tommy screeched in surprise, struggling in Dream’s fist, but the assassin was too preoccupied with the wave of spiders skittering towards them to care.

Dream thought fast, heart pounding and adrenaline rushing through his veins. He had a pocket, a very, very safe pocket on the inside of his cloak that he could put Tommy in, but he didn't think he'd have the time. The spiders were barely a dozen yards away, and we're closing in fast.

One of the forerunners of the pack, faster than the rest by a mile, broke free of the group and charged at them. It hissed, red eyes blinking one-by-one as Dream leveled his sword at it, a ferocious expression decorating his face underneath the mask. The arachnid made a false lunge, Dream's sword swiping the air where one of its legs had been moments prior.

Dream curled his fingers a little more securely around Tommy’s small, fragile form and backed up a pace, bringing his hand closer to his chest. Shit. He did not want to fight while he had Tommy in his hands.

Webbing tangled and clung to the backs of his legs as he stepped further away, slowing him down an alarming amount. Dream bit his lip, tossing a quick glance at the ledge behind himself. It shouldn’t be too hard to climb…

The sharp hiss of another spider growing closer spurred him into action. He turned and threw first his sword, then, much more gently, Tommy, onto the ledge that rose an arm's length above his head. The web-bound teenager shrieked, unable to even flail as he fell the short distance through the air and hit the stone ground.

Just as he felt spindly claws snag his boot, Dream leapt and caught the edge of the rock, scrambling wildly to clamber upwards, hooking his elbows over the shelf of stone and heaving his body upwards. Tommy came into view, nearly directly underneath Dream, and the man had to throw himself to the side before he hit the ground and crushed the miniature teenager. His shoulder hit the stone first, a dull impact that would leave a slight bruise in the morning.

Dream rolled onto his back, shooting a hurried look back at the dropoff. Already, black, shining claws were poking up over the edge of the drop. Dream scrambled to his feet, snatching Tommy from the ground in one hand and grabbing his sword in the other, then took off in a dead sprint, mind already whirling with plans. He could head back to the entrance he had made in the side of the cliff, but the gap was small, and he was afraid he wouldn't be able to squeeze through it in time. On the other hand, he didn't know how likely the possibility of finding the mine entrance would be.

The appearance of more cave spiders crawling out from one of the side tunnels in front of them made his decision for him. Dream shoved his sword into its scabbard with little regard for the strands of webbing still clinging to it and booked it through one of the paths on the side of the wall, sprinting away from the sounds of the two masses of spiders crashing into each other.

Dream spared a glance down at Tommy, worried. The teen had been cursing the whole way, wriggling and trying to break free of the spider silk wrapped around his body. The blond seemed fine, but Dream was still incredibly worried. A bite from a cave spider, while non-lethal to bigger folk like himself, would be fatal to an inchling. He had to hurry.

The entrance of the old tunnel spewed out at him suddenly, the bright wash of light nearly blinding him. Dream threw his free arm in front of his face and dove through the opening, blinking rapidly to try and get his eyes to adjust. He didn't stop running for a good long while, wanting to put some distance between himself and the cave.

“Fuck,” Dream finally groaned as he stumbled to a stop. He slapped his free hand over the eyes of his mask and slumped against the rough bark of a tree, chest heaving. Despite his wishes, his hands were shaking, and he couldn't get them to stop. Dream hated being underground, more than anything in the world, and the adrenaline and fear induced by the spiders had done him no favors.

Taking in several deep, calming breaths, he turned his attention to Tommy, who was cursing up a storm and still attempting to struggle out of the mass of cobwebs that were roping his limbs together. Dream brought his curled hand away from his chest and flattened out his palm, scrutinizing the blond to make sure he didn't have any injuries. When he was satisfied that the teen was fine other than a few new scrapes and bruises, it was like a switch was flipped, and a hot seed of anger sparked in his stomach.

"Don't run off like that! You could've died, Tommy!" Dream scolded as he oh-so-gently picked at the gossamer strands that bound the teen. Tommy sent a displeased scowl up at Dream's mask, little hands shoving angrily at the human's fingertips

"Well, nobody told me that there would be huge-ass motherfucking spiders wandering around!" He snapped, grabbing a strand of webbing with his free hand and yanking at it. It didn't even budge, souring his mood even further. Dream's lips twitched beneath his mask, and he nudged the teen's hands away from the webs with a careful fingertip.

While Tommy groused and grumbled, Dream worked to pull the sticky silk away from his body. After several minutes of meticulous work, Tommy was web free. Dream still had webbing that clung to the backs of his legs, but he'd worry about that later. It's not like it would inhibit him like it inhibited Tommy.

“I've told you not to run off. You should know, most of all, how dangerous everything can be for somebody your size.” Dream chided, lifting his hand up to his shoulder. Without a word, Tommy leapt from his palm and latched onto the fabric of his turtleneck. Dream tried not to twitch at the feeling of tiny limbs tickling at his skin.

"The spiders would have ignored you, anyway. You're too little for them to bother eating." Dream grunted, pushing away from the tree and gingerly stepping through the underbrush of the forest. He didn't recognize where they currently were, but that would be fine. He could figure that out later.

“So I would’ve just starved to death in the webs, that’s so fucking reassuring, Dream,” Tommy grumbled, sliding down against the human’s neck and settling against the arch of muscle connecting the human’s head to his shoulders.

Dream sighed, rolling his eyes and turning his gaze to the sky. “It’s getting late. I’m, I’m gonna go ahead and strike up a camp. I don’t know about you, but I’m fucking tired.”

Tommy couldn’t help but agree with the bigger man’s statement. Failed escape attempt aside, the day had been rather exhausting in its own right. Tommy wanted to wrap himself in his quilt and doze off, but unfortunately, it was still in Dream’s satchel, far, far out of reach for the tiny teenager.

It took Dream maybe five minutes to find a good place to build a fire and begin cooking their dinner. Tommy stayed seated on the man’s shoulder, clinging to the side of his neck by the fabric of his shirt. The teen was about ready to drop dead, right then and there from the fatigue of the day. Too much stress and anxiety in too few hours, he figured.

Absent-mindedly, Dream reached towards the blond to pluck him up from his shoulder. Tommy stumbled back with a yell, shoulders hitched up and arms thrown up in front of his face in a readily defensive position. The massive hand faltered at Tommy’s sudden reaction, and the line of Dream’s back slumped down as he realized that he’d scared the teen. Again.

“I have…you-sized swords, if that would make you feel better,” The human offered, slowly pulling his hand away from Tommy. Tommy perked up immediately at the offer, before suspicion clouded his face. He squinted up at Dream, but was unable to discern anything past the blank smile on his mask.

“Why do you have so much smallfolk stuff?!” He snapped, punching the side of Dream’s neck in a sudden flare of outrage. The skin beneath the dark fabric twitched, and Tommy scowled. “Normal people barely even fucking know we exist, and yet here you are, pockets full of items you shouldn’t have, not even the slightest bit curious about me or my kind, what we are, and what we fucking do. That’s not a goddamn normal response, Dream!”

Tommy was shaking, heart thrumming in his chest for about the third time that day. Many more of the ways Dream just was had been bothering him for a while, and he took the opportunity to spew his frustrations out at the human. At the very least, he was getting the words off of his chest.

"Um, well…" Dream trailed off, glancing up at the dusking sky, then slowly, he brought his hand up to his shoulder in front of Tommy, palm flat. “C’mon, let me set you down first.” He murmured, fingers twitching absently. Tommy frowned but obliged anyway, carefully hopping from his perch on Dream’s shoulder and onto the gloved palm. Tommy nodded when Dream asked if he was ready, the human settling down on the ground in front of the fire before lowering his hand to the dirt beside himself to let Tommy down as well.

"I like to help you guys, y'know? Like, if I come across one of you in trouble, I'll help 'em out." Dream finally started with a small shrug. "And sometimes they give me stuff, and others…" He paused, before continuing morosely. "Sometimes I get there too late."

"Why, though? What good does it do you?" Tommy demanded, plopping down on the ground and crossing his legs. He crossed his arms and puffed his chest out, sending a firm look up at the towering form of the older man.

Dream's body seemed to loosen, and his voice went sad and vacant. "I…I had a friend, once. A smallfolk friend. A long time ago. He—I-I, uhm…" Dream bowed his head, looking to the side. "I-I'm hoping that I'll maybe find him again. One day. H-hopefully." The human fell silent, staring solemnly at the dirt and grass of the forest floor. The muted crackling of the fire filled the strangely mournful air, leaving Tommy to stew in the new piece of information.

Dream had a smallfolk friend…? He opened his mouth to say something, then, glancing back up at Dream's bowed figure, thought better of it and closed his jaw, pensively turning back to the brightly burning fire.

Considering, well, everything, it did make sense. The way the man behaved, the gentle, well-practiced manner he had when he had to pick Tommy up or walk with the teen on his shoulder, even his actions when Tommy was freaking out just a little too badly, everything pointed to a great deal of experience with smallfolk.

The teen could even accept the fact that the smallfolk items had been gifts and…��findings that weren’t forcefully taken. Despite the fact that some of the belongings obviously hadn’t been willingly parted with (Tommy’s quilt came to mind, that thing was way too valuable to simply give away) the idea that the previous owners had passed, while still upsetting, was more comforting for Tommy to think about that the fact that maybe Dream had killed them himself.

Tommy exhaled silently from his nose, clasping his hands over his mouth and gazing into the bright, dazzling light of the fire. If…If Dream was telling the truth, then Tommy shouldn’t have to worry about being safe around the man. Tommy would really, really like that to be the case. He was tired of being scared, of Dream, of other bigfolk, of the world. If Dream was a good’un, and Tommy dearly hoped he was, maybe…maybe he wouldn't have to worry so much.

Maybe Tommy could get back home…

…

He did end up getting a sword from Dream. The human even spent a few hours teaching him how to use it (most of which Tommy already knew, thank you very much!) and had promised to continue the lessons in the future. Tommy had been ecstatic, swinging the inch-long blade with a slightly-less-than practiced hand. He’d never actually owned a sword before, (they’d never had any small enough) but he’d practiced enough with splinters of wood and slivers of metal to know how to wield it.

The sun had set, not too long after that, and Dream told them that they needed to get to bed. Tommy had agreed, physically and mentally exhausted from the day’s trials. Dream had held open his satchel for the teen, and closed it securely behind him after Tommy stepped inside. In the warm, nearly oppressive darkness, Tommy found his quilt and sank to the ground, already half asleep by the time he managed to drag the blanket up over his shoulders.

Outside there were the sounds of Dream settling down for the night, the slight sound of the movements amplified by the giant of a man that was causing them.

Tommy drifted off, lulled to sleep by the drag of gravity, the heavy, rhythmic whoosh of Dream’s breathing and the low, muffled sounds of the night critters outside.

Taglist:

@brick-a-doodle-do @i-am-beckyu @da3dm @kayla-crazy-stuffs @local-squishmallow @skullsnbruises @munchkin1156 @gt-daboss

#mcyt g/t #mcyt gt #writing #giant!dream #g/t #g/t writing #tiny!tommy #venture #bat's writing #giant/tiny #dsmp g/t #dsmp gt #duuuude ive hit forty thousand words for this im so fucking ecstatic

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i-am-beckyu · 3 months

Text

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 wc: 2923

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It started a few months ago.

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.

Yeah, Wilbur didn’t mind this at all.

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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

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brick-a-doodle-do · 8 months

Note

Story idea! Which will contain tiny!tubbo tiny!baby michael and giant!ranboo

Tubbo lives alone in the tundra lands of snowchester with his son Michael, tubbo is known for studying and hunting mythical creatures, but after a harsh snowstorm and lack of food he ventures out one night and ends up meeting one of the mythical creatures he has been desperately searching for.

Noms are up to you, btw

yay no more creative slump! thanks anon :D

i kinda switched this around s little bit but i think it's still alright? i mean i didn't read it but eh

(bonus points if you know what the title's from! :3)

agony drips from me, poisonous remedy

wc: 2519

cw: sfw vore (unwilling prey + miscommunication/no communication), panic

—–—

Call him an idiot, call him insane, call his work useless, but he prefers ‘over it’. Because in the depths of all of his pinned up papers, half-finished sketches littering the floors and a thousand theories blurring his head, he has a son, who’s obvious struggles haven't gone unnoticed from Tubbo, and he is over his weird hobby.

He does try, he keeps up with Micheal’s schedule, making sure he’s clean and well-fed and gets to sleep on time, (Although he can't be positive on that because unless his frenzy has kicked up hallucinations, he’s fairly positive he’s heard Micheal’s muffled snorts from just outside his office.)

Tubbo knew about that. He knew his son was distressed and isolated and tired and curious, yet he still persisted with the thing he couldn't even call work, it was just a hobby he clung onto desperately like it was pumping air into his lungs.

So, the recent storm was rather eye-opening. At the first crack of thunder and blast of lighting, Tubbo found it mildly distracting, while Micheal’s panicked squeals had traveled through the mansion and right to Tubbo's office, where the boy then threw himself at his father, burying his face into Tubbo’s chest with panicked breath. Tubbo had jumped at the contact and shuffled his papers around before scooting back to tend to his son.

“Hey, hey, it’s just a storm, the thunder can’t hurt us,” Tubbo reassures, rubbing circles into the kid’s back. Micheal squeals as another clap of thunder echoes from the sky and rattles the windows of the office. Micheal’s grip on Tubbo’s vest tightens and he has to suppress the urge to wince under the pressure of his forming claws. “It's just passing over us,” Tubbo says, although he can't be sure about that, the weather has been showing signs of storms all week.

Another flash of lightning leaves Tubbo jumping at the way the windows light up at the streak, just a mile too close for his word to stay true. Presumably having felt Tubbo’s jolt of fear, Micheal sobs a little, still huddling close to his father for comfort. Tubbo sighs, tearing his wary attention away from the window and turning to focus on his papers, bullet points about a deity blurring together even more than usual at his worry. He moves his attention from his work and focuses on his son, still shaking with sobs. A wet spot has formed on his jumper from the kid’s tears, meanwhile Tubbo is stunned at what to say. He’s never been the most emotionally available, or if he was he wasted it all on useless attempts at humor to try and calm down Tommy.

This was his son, and this was not a laughing matter. He stands, his chair sliding back along the wooden floor with a wince-inducing scrape, to which he ignores and focuses on supporting his son. “We haven't had thunder for a while, so, you know what that means?” Tubbo asks, using old techniques Schlatt had used when Tubbo wouldn't be quiet.

“What?” Micheal asks, smally, voice broken from his tears.

Another clap of thunder. Micheal gasps softly at the sound.

“When there's a clap of thunder, you count the seconds between it, and that's how many miles away it is,” Tubbo informs him, still rubbing along his back as he navigates through the mansion.

The hybrid pulls away from his chest, still secure in Tubbo’s grasp but now facing him eye-to-eye, looking a little suspicious of Tubbo's claim. “Not true?” Micheal inquires. Tubbo cracks a smile and shakes his head.

“It's true! Listen, let's wait for the next one,” he says, heading down the grand staircase to find their way to the family room.

Micheal’s eyes avert his gaze and instead move beyond him to watch the windows, spirit enlightened. Tubbo finds the lift in demeanor satisfying, though without a problem to worry about he finds his mind traveling back to the creature studies sat in his office. Supposedly considered deity amongst the End and the Nether, and the very last creature he has in an old book of monsters he found as a kid.

He’s never been so riled up over finding something, but Ranboo proved so important that Tubbo would forget his own son in their time of panic.

Tubbo plops on the couch, Micheal falling with him, just in time for another clap of thunder. “Alright! One, two, three—” Tubbo is cut off as Micheal takes over.

“Four, five—” Boom! The windows rattle and a few pieces of lopsided furniture shudder. That’s odd. It hadn't been so close before…boom!

Micheal squeals. That was loud.

“Hey, hey, bossman, you're alright! It's just thunder,” Tubbo says, holding his boy tight while keeping his eyes glued to the pitch-black windows.

“Too close!” Micheal squeals out, his hybrid coming out in a fit of snorts and whines that make Tubbo’s heart ache. Why did he tell him about the distance method?

He considers calling Phil, but he doubts his communicator will work in this storm. The loud rush of rain hitting the window becomes apparent to him the more it picks up, rapidly thumping on the glass panes. Micheal’s crying again, his body quivering with every hiccup.

“Hey, baby, you're okay,” Tubbo whispers. He can't handle this. Boom! “Bud, how about a special trip to old man Phil? I bet he and Technoblade can help, huh?” He asks, bouncing the hybrid on his knee. All that Michael responds with is a childish sob.

His heart twists. Tubbo pulls him close, picking the kid up. He can make it to Phil and Technoblade's cabin, and then he can just…pick up where he left off with his work. You know, unless he dies.

Tubbo’s footsteps softly echo around the high ceilings, just barely audible against Micheal’s crying. “We’re going to go out to uncle Technoblade and old man Phil’s cabin, alright Micheal? They’ll know what to do,” Tubbo informs, sliding into his shoes and setting the kid down by the door. “Which coat do you want, bossman?”

Micheal hiccups, staring up at Tubbo with confusion in his eyes. For the most part, it goes unnoticed while he opens up the chest of their jackets and shoes.

“I don't want to be in storm,” Micheal says, frowning. Tubbo pulls a coat from the chest and pulls it around himself, grabbing another one for extra good measure. He zips the two up then crouches down to eye level with the piglin.

“I know, I know. We just need to get somewhere a little safer, okay? Their houses are more prepared for this,” he lies, knowing full well that while he knows the storm is coming closer, he really was orchestrating this so he could just get some quiet work time, no matter how bad he felt about it.

Micheal, at the very least, seems to buy it. “Okay…I want red, Techno color!” the piglin says, squealing in delight at his own mention of Technoblade.

“Ah, what did I expect,” he chuckles, pulling out a red raincoat from the chest and carefully pulling Micheal’s arms through each sleeve, then buttoning it up gently. Micheal flaps his hand as Tubbo pats his chest to let him know he’s ready to go. Tubbo pulls out his wellies, a blue pair to take after Tommy, (Who he’s quite sure took after Ghostbur), then hands them to micheal to fit on. In the end, Tubbo is fighting down his overwhelming guilt of letting Micheal go for the storm.

He's adorable, already abandoning fear because he looks like his uncles, (And his flaunting his excitement of the fact). Techno’s old raincoat almost pools at Micheal’s feet, the faded thing barely fitting yet somehow keeping Micheal in complete bliss.

“You look dapper,” Tubbo compliments, one last time reaching into the chest and grabbing out an umbrella before closing it. “Ready to go visit Philza, bossman?”

Ultimately, Micheal looks a little uncomfortable at the thought of going out into the storm, although the thunder has been distant recently and Tubbo can tell Micheal has registered that.

“I think!” he responds, voice wavering before gaining confidence near the end. He smiles shallowly.

With one arm, Tubbo lifts Micheal up into his hold again, the piglin snorting at the quick movement. He switches the umbrella to the hand holding Micheal and opens the front door, pulling at it until it finally opens with a pop!, leaving him stumbling at the sudden jerk. He keeps it open with his foot and steps out, shielded from the pouring rain under the thin awning. The door slams shut behind him, nearly causing him to drop the umbrella as Micheal jumps at the sound and digs his fingers into Tubbo’s already-sore sides.

He huffs out his pain and slides open the umbrella, which clicks as it locks. Tubbo raises it above their heads and steps out into the storm. Immediately, the constant stream of rain against the material above their heads pounds in Tubbo’s ears, even as damaged as they are.

Boom!

Immediately, Tubbo hears Micheal whisper under his breath: “One, two, three four, five, six, seven, eight, nine, ten—” Boom!

“Ten miles is pretty far,” Tubbo comments, trudging through the thin layer of snow that he’d just shoveled earlier today. It mixes into a sludge with the rain, crunching under his boots in a pleasing manner, something to distract him from his desire to study and his worry of making it through the path to Techno’s cabin. It also distracts him from the impending feeling like he’s being watched.

He tries to convince himself that isn't true, for the most part, even though he does give in with a quick look around his surroundings. The only thing he’s ever met with is the comfort of being alone with just him and his boy.

Wind laps around them, the thunder and lightning seemingly having passed already, the only applicable features of the storm remaining being the strong rain and the surprisingly aggressive winds. He can barely see anything, let alone hear anything outside of the wind in his ears, Micheal’s hushed shivers and whimpers, and the rain on the umbrella. All the mobs have taken a rest for the night, thankfully, but it only leaves him in suspense.

Who had eyes on him if not a zombie or a creeper?

Who was watching him from above, threatening the security of him and his son?

About halfway through the forest to Techno’s cabin, he pauses at the sound of something shuffling. Micheal hums at the motion, his attention also caught on the noise. Perhaps he would've passed it off as a victim of the storm, but it seemed too orchestrated, like something running into a bush. He tries putting it behind him, whispering a reassurance to both himself and the boy.

Tubbo makes it two steps before there's another rustle. Now, he stops. Full-fledged freezes, subconsciously holding Micheal a little closer. His grip on the umbrella handle tightens until his knuckles run pale while he spins around against the wind to look around.

The hue of something red and green catches his eye. Too large to be anyone's communicator or any of the server’s eyes. Too vibrant for a coat or anything of the sorts, too colorful for an animal, no, this was the watchful gaze of Ranboo.

It fit the description of their eyes, the giant creature often hunched low to the forest floor, said to be a nod to their connection with the Nether.

Tubbo can’t help the excitement that flares up against the fear. Ranboo was feet from him. He has been searching for so long—he finally can care about his son the way he needed to.

“Papa?” Micheal inquires, presumably noticing the way Tubbo has stopped in his tracks again.

Tubbo shushes the piglin. “Hold on for a second, bud,” he says, hiking up the kid before he slips out of his hold. Micheal seems to relax, resting his head on Tubbo’s shoulder while he waits.

Meanwhile, Tubbo stands, staring at the vibrant eyes in the foliage ahead.

“Ranboo,” he whispers. The eyes lift up a bit, like the mention of their name intrigued them. Tubbo’s spirit lightens immensely.

A crack of lightning charges through the sky, lighting it up enough for him to make out a rough outline of the crouching monster. “Woah..yeah, that's you, Ranboo!” He says slowly, more of a reassurance to himself than anything.

“You're Ranboo, right?” Tubbo calls out to the forest. The eyes disappear for a moment before reappearing as the creature blinks.

There's a small vwoop! that echoes through the forest. Micheal perks up at that, turning his head in the direction of Ranboo. Against his fingertips, even through the raincoat, Tubbo's feels as Micheal tenses up.

“What's that?!” the kid demands, fear inflicted in his voice. His pink fur has risen at the fear he emits.

“It's nothing to be afraid of, just an important thing I've been looking for,” he informs the kid. Micheal doesn't seem to relax.

Ranvoo releases another vwoop! which is shadowed with a glk! that echoes from their throat.

Suddenly, a thick tail with a furry, split-colored tuft is extending from the forest and into the clearing, rising high above them before, strangely prehensile as it curls around Micheal’s small form, somehow breaking the boy's contact with Tubbo. Micheal squeals at it, crying out for his dad. Before he has the time to react, Micheal is plucked from his grasp and swept up in Ranboo's tail, becoming a speck of pink amongst a sea of black and white.

“Hey! What the fuck?!” Tubbo yells, immediately dropping the umbrella to run after the retracting tail. The rain pours into him immediately, wind rushing in his ears and pushing him as he trails after Micheal quickly. He stumbles over his feet, ankles rolling at his attempts to stay sturdy in snow.

Tubbo can just barely hear Micheal’s panicked squeals and snorts while re-entering the forest, quickly behind the tail as he runs uselessly towards his son. “Ran-Ranboo! Sir–um, oh my god, surely you doing need to do that!” Tubbo calls up, watching from the shadows as Micheal is lifted effortlessly into Ranboo's two-finger hold, dangling him in open air, infuriatingly oblivious to his panic and sobs.

Tubbo’s heart sinks when he watches through another streak of lightning illumates the forest around them, as his son is drawn to Ranboo’s open maw, a fit of sobs and garbled calls for his dad and screams to stop.

Immediately, he runs closer to the giant, who’s still crouched over the clearing.

“Oh god, oh my god, what the—RANBOO!” Tubbo yells, hands cupped over his mouth desperately. Rain pours down into him as he runs, causing him to stumble in the mud. As he approaches, he realizes quickly he can barely reach the edge of Ranboo's leg despite his immediate attempts to jump at it, and at another clap of thunder and bolt of lightning, he’s craning his neck in horror as he watches a lump in the deity’s throat travel down.

—–—

taglist: @i-am-beckyu, @skullsnbruises, @nobodywritingao3, @krazycat49, @da3dm, @a-xyz-s // taglist request

#brickquiries #anon brickling #mw #brickfic #mcyt g/t #mcyt gt #dsmp g/t #dsmp gt #dream smp g/t #dream smp gt #t!micheal #t!tubbo #g!ranboo #tw vore #safe vore

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leaf-stars · 2 years

Text

what lurked in the forest

Hi! I hope I'm doing this right because I've never actually posted on tumblr, and I hardly interact with it besides mcyt g/t so...

I used a prompt inspired by @oh-i-need-a-name , so thank you for that! this is also me outing myself as leaf anon lol

I hope you enjoy!

wordcount: 2386

You couldn’t blame Tommy for being curious about what lurked in the forest.

He didn’t know why he was so obsessed with the forest. Maybe it was a form of escapism from his miserable life in the village. Maybe he just wanted to spite all the people who warned him to stay away from the forest. Either way, he was drawn to it like a moth to a light.

It was stupid, he knew that. He knew the dangers of being so mesmerised by the forest, the rumours of monsters and whatnot in there was too much of a risk. Yet as each day passed by, he felt more and more of a desire to go into there.

But that’s just a fantasy.

He stared at the forest while at the market, for what had to be the millionth time wondering every secret the forest held.

“Thomas!”

Oh shit. He knew that voice. It was the jeweler he stole from.

Immediately, he broke off into a sprint. He needed to get away from this guy.

This was his last chance of ‘being good’ in this village, otherwise he’d get kicked out, teenager or not. He had stolen one too many times from one too many people and he was let off with one more warning before the civilians would throw him out.

It seemed like he wasted his one last chance.

But he had a good reason! He needed food somehow, but everyone seemed to turn their nose up when they remembered not everyone had their perfect life and could afford any meal they pleased.

Left turn. Duck. Take a right. Another left.

And… he hit a dead end. Oops.

“Thomas!” The man screeched. He turned with wide eyes to see the jeweler charging at him with a livid look.

Tommy searched for any direction to run but before he could leave again-

The jeweler grabbed Tommy roughly.

“You.”

Tommy grimaced. “Me.”

“You’ve really done it now. How many times have we told you that you need to put an end to this?” The jeweler scowled. “That necklace took me weeks to make!” He shook his head. “No more of this.”

A crowd gathered around from all the screaming and chasing.

He dragged Tommy closer to the walls of the village. The walls were originally built to keep whatever was in there out, but apparently, it was good to throw children out of their village as well.

“No wait, please!” Tommy looked around the village, desperate for anyone to take pity on him and stop what was happening, but he was only met with disapproving looks.

The man shoved him to the wall, “get to the other side, now,” he gritted out. “If you don’t start climbing in ten seconds, I will not hesitate to throw you over.”

Tommy took a trembling breath and nodded, climbing up the tall wall. It was better than getting injured or worse, his ego getting bruised and he knew better than to think that the jeweler was bluffing.

He was at the top of the wall, it being scarily tall. He looked back at the jeweler, who had an expectant look on him. “Well?”

With no other choice, Tommy jumped down.

White hot pain flared up in his right ankle, causing him to suck in a sharp breath of pain, but after a few minutes, he began to walk, fearing what would happen if he just stood still

Okay, so now what?

Maybe he should be figuring out a full plan, but he was panicking a little, sue him.

There was no way he could go back to the village, to that one at least. If that jeweler or even the crowd watching the two spot him, he’d be in deep shit.

And he had no idea where any other village would be.

He looked at the forest.

He may regret this.

Tommy walked over to the forest, ready to explore. Despite the fear he was feeling, he was curious and even excited to finally see the forest.

He put his hand on the trees, seeing how the rough texture felt.

As he walked through the woods, he couldn’t help but feel like there was eyes on him. That made him wary, but if he got through this quick enough, he’d be fine. Maybe he’d see something magical.

He was always fascinated by magic, if he could meet whatever was staring at him – if anything was – then he would albeit from a distance.

Everything was okay for a little while as he explored the forest. He didn’t realize the sun was beginning to set, he was too captivated by the strange noises and the large trees.

Everything was fine.

Until he heard a growl.

He didn’t care about meeting magical creatures, but this thing did not sound friendly.

Tommy’s heart dropped and he snapped his head to the noise. Fear washed over him as he looked at this animal.

He had no clue what it was. It looked somewhat like a wolf, but it had to be twice the size of one. The creature bared its teeth at Tommy, showing just how sharp they were, making his heartbeat pick up.

It walked over to him slowly, as if he was the prey.

He was.

Tommy stumbled backward. Stupid. This was stupid. He heard the tales of this forest and went in anyway instead of looking for another village and pray they’d take him in. Now he was going to die.

His back hit a tree, leaving him no more room to escape as the creature moved forward.

“Hey,” Tommy whimpered out, “nice… creature thingy? Please don’t hurt me.”

It lunged at him and bit his arm. Tommy cried out.

Before it could do anything more, the creature paused. Tommy tried to stay as still as he could to avoid anymore attention, but it was hard to do with his chest heaving.

Then the creature ran off.

Tommy laughed in relief, perhaps in hysteria as well before looking at his bleeding out arm. The damage was bad. Blood gushed out from it when Tommy so much as moved his arm.

This sucked. An injured ankle and an injured leg.

He needed to get out of here.

With a grunt of pain, he shakily stood up and cradled his injured arm. He ignored the spots appearing in his vision when Tommy looked for where he last was, hoping that he could leave the forest.

And- oh. He was lost.

With the dumb creature throwing him off his tracks, he had no idea where he came from. Tommy didn’t want to accidentally go farther from the forest.

He frowned, trying to decide which way he should go before he felt vibrations from the ground.

Dread washed through him. Is this another one of those creatures? Oh gods, he hoped not.

With a shaky breath, he whipt his head to where the vibrations seemed to be coming from, bracing himself for the worst.

His heart thumped loudly in his ears, making it unable to hear anything else. For a quick moment, he thought he was in the clear and the vibrations were just him going crazy.

And then a giant shoe landed right in front of him.

Tommy immediately yelped and backed away from it quickly.

He looked up.

And up.

His eyes widened as he saw a fucking giant.

They had brown fluffy hair and peered down at him.

What the fuck is the giant going to do to him. He’s going to fucking die. He’s going to-

The giant frowned. “You’re hurt.” His voice rang loudly into Tommy’s ear.

He could talk?!

Tommy willed himself to take a deep breath and calm down. “I am.” Despite trying to keep some composure, fear was still clear as day in his tone.

“You’re bleeding a lot.” He crouched down to inspect Tommy’s wound more, making the blonde back away even more so. “I tried to ward off the goile when I heard screams, but it didn’t work. Sorry about that.”

“‘the goile’?” Tommy parroted, then shook his head. “You know, uh. Thank you for that. But I’m afraid I must… go.” Maybe, hopefully, the giant would just leave him alone.

Of course, he wasn’t so lucky.

“But your far from any village,” the giant told him. “I wouldn’t be here if there was one nearby. And you’re going to bleed out by the time you even try to reach anywhere.”

“I’ll be fine,” Tommy hastily reassured. “Don’t worry about me, big man! Thanks for the help, but this forest is clearly dangerous for me, so I’ll just try to leave as quick as possible.”

The giant, much to Tommy’s dismay, only frowned at that. “Humans take so long to travel though.” The brunette hummed in thought before moving their hand that must be three times the size of the teen closer to him.

Tommy flinched back and yelled, causing the giant to pause. “What are you doing?!” He panted, ignoring how the world seemed to start spinning.

“You can’t go back to any sort of village. The closest one must be far away, and you’re too injured even if you were to travel.” He explained like it was obvious. “So I’m going to bring you to my house.”

“Your house?” Tommy repeated, and gods, this must be some weird fever dream he was experiencing. There’s no way this was real. “You have a house?”

The giant shrugged. “What, you expect me to live in a cave?” They gave a toothy grin, unsettling Tommy even more so.

“I mean, sort of.” Tommy muttered, looking at the ground.

He snorted. “I’ve lived in this forest for as long as I can remember. I can’t live in a cave for my whole life. I built a house.”

“That’s great. Love woodwork and stuff, uh. I’ll pass though.” Tommy fumbled out. “I don’t- I can’t come with you. I’ve got to get home.” Wherever home was.

“At least let me fix you up, with your injury and all.”

“I-” Tommy swallowed thickly. It was getting hard to ignore the spinning. “Is it… I feel sick.” He stated.

And then it went black.

----

Tommy woke up with a groan.

It was warm. When was it ever this warm? He couldn’t remember, but he welcomed it.

Then his memories came rushing back and he hastily sat up becoming overwhelmingly aware of his surroundings. He was on a pillow, but it wasn’t any pillow, no, it was huge.

In fact, everything that surrounded him was massive.

This wasn’t good. He was kidnapped by this giant, that was the only logical explanation, and he couldn’t get out of there.

Hesitantly, he peaked over the edge to see how far the drop was, thinking it could be worth it even if he broke a bone, but it was better than possibly dying by the hands of the giant.

Unfortunately, the drop was much too big. There was no doubt about it that he’d die if he tried to jump down. Fuck.

Humming was heard throughout the room. He snapped his head toward the sound, tensed and prepared for his death.

He was met with the giant, but instead of a sinister expression like he expected, the brunette had a surprised smile on his face. “Oh, you’re up. I thought you’d be awake for at least a few more hours.”

Oh, so that was it. He wanted Tommy to be conscious and experience all the torture and pain. Tommy swallowed thickly. This was fine, he’d be able to stall. “Yeah, why would I be asleep for so long?”

The giant looked at him as if it was obvious. “Because you passed out from blood loss?”

Tommy blinked. Maybe that was obvious. He moved his arm to see it and was surprised to see it messily bandaged up. “Why… why would you help me? I thought…” he trailed off, not daring to finish the sentence.

But the giant caught on. “You thought what?”

“Aren’t you supposed to- I heard rumours of what goes on in the forest,” Tommy started, “and, um. Most creatures, especially with the tales I’ve heard of giants are, you know, kind of… bad?” He finished with a wince, hoping that the giant wouldn’t act through anger after hearing that.

Unexpectedly, there was hurt plastered upon the giant’s face rather than anger. “I wouldn’t ever do that,” he whispered, as if it was a forbidden thing.

Tommy nodded, words failing, and unsure of how to reply. He didn’t even know if he believed that.

“I would never do that,” the brunette repeated firmly, making Tommy’s heartbeat pick up.

Shit, did he offend the guy? That wasn’t what he intended, he just didn’t think lying would be the smartest move to make.

“Okay! That’s good, it’s just what I heard.” Tommy responded, wondering how he could carry on the conversation and possibly how to get the fuck out of here.

“Do you believe it?”

Tommy looked away from the man, and that was the only confirmation the giant needed to see.

“I won’t do anything,” he reassured, clearly desperate to convince Tommy. “I helped you.”

“I know, but you could.” Tommy reminded. “It’d be easy.” He muttered, looking back up to him.

The giant’s face fell even more. “Wouldn’t I have already done it? I could do it anytime I wanted to, and I haven’t. Why would I fix you up if I wanted to see you get hurt?”

That was terrifying, but true. It was unlikely they’d be having the conversation they were having if this person had any ulterior motives.

“Okay,” Tommy replied, sounding more convinced. “Yeah, you’re right. I- thank you for helping me.” He didn’t fully trust the giant, how could he? But he just needed to be wary, not completely paralyzed by fear.

“What’s your name?” The giant asked.

“I’m Tommy,” he answered.

The giant smiled softly. “I’m Wilbur.” He held out his hand, making Tommy flinch, for a millisecond wondering if it was all a ruse, but nothing happened. Then it clicked, Wilbur had his hand out as if he wanted the teen to shake it.

So, with hesitance, Tommy grabbed onto the pinkie finger with both of his hands and said, “it’s nice to meet you.”

#mcyt g/t #tiny!tommy #giant!wilbur #mcyt gt #dsmp g/t #dsmp gt #please bear with me #ive never written g/t #im struggling man #leaf writes

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guppybubbles · 3 months

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Fake fic title:

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…

#guppy's asks #mcyt g/t #giant/tiny #mcyt gt #mcyt g/t community #g/t #giant tiny #dsmp g/t #dsmp gt #tiny!tommy #borrower!tommy #giant!wilbur #fake fic titles #g/t idea #g!wilbur #guppy writes!

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ey-there-little-guy · 9 months

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Made up fake fic title?

OH HECK YEAH I'LL GIVE YOU A FEW!!!!!!!! <3

Take me deeper than I've ever known

Put me together with staples and string

Never Ever

A Race to one's demise

Twisted Fates

DO WITH THESE WHAT YOU WILL!! DON'T HAVE TO DO EM ALL JUST HAVE FUN WITH IT!!! :3

OH THANK YOU :D these are great, so I definitely tried to think of something for all of these <3

They all turned into g/t or somewhat g/t bullet-point plots haha. Still tried to do summaries since that's usual for these tho

Take me deeper than I've ever known

Ranboo doesn't know what happened to him, just that one day he was tall enough to do all the stuff humans do, then the next day so small that a mouse could probably fistfight him and win. The even crazier thing is that he meets someone just as small, who apparently has been the one taking snacks from his stash, and not a ghost. Great, one question solved and a thousand more left unanswered. At least while they're stuck like this they won't have to be alone, Tommy may be strange but he isn't all that bad, besides the fact he'd probably ditch Ranboo if they revealed they're human. But while it lasts, he doesn't mind seeing more of Tommy's world.

magic, tiny fairy or fae, hmm

Ranboo gets shrunk and found by a tiny Tommy who decides 'gosh you suck at survival, i'll help you'

Tommy acts like he doesn't know Ranboo was shrunk, but he does

like 'don't interact with bigs, but they're not big anymore so…'

Ranboo doesn't know this but learns interacting with humans is a no-no so keeps their shrinking a secret

Ranboo learns more than they thought about the world at a smaller size

and they do want to be normal height again, someday (…maybe), but his life with Tommy is something they start to cherish, and the tiny really loves having them around

the twist is that Tommy is a fae of sorts that shrunk Ranboo, bc they were interesting and alone and and it seemed like something fun to do, but then feelings and friendship happened

Ranboo will have to find out eventually..

fae shenanigans and morals

Put me together with staples and string

What do you do when your reason for existing is to comfort and make smiles bloom, but you're built of dead things brought back, nightmarish and far too tall? For Ranboo, the answer is to enjoy what he can. Tubbo certainly makes this strange second-first life worth being a monster, at least.

second idea version:

Tubbo might not be real, full of stuffing and magic, but Tommy wants a friend, a best friend, and maybe Tubbo wants that too. So if Tommy thinks he's real enough to be that friend, despite how much smaller he is and inability to go places with Tommy without acting like a normal doll, then Tubbo is happy. Tommy may have done some questionable magic because he was lonely and desperate, but Tubbo is amazing, so he doesn't regret it. If only others could see it the same way.

Angst angst angst?

ended up with two ideas oops:

Ranboo is a minigiant frankenstein's monster kinda creature (created by Tubbo because Dude Is So Alone He Reanimated A Corpse For Company)

OR Tubbo is a life-like doll brought to life to be a friend (clingyduo and magic)

whichever idea, they have existential issues and put their worth into how useful they can be

both want to be able to go out into the world but don't, because they know if they're seen they'd terrify or unsettle people

Ranboo idea: sad times, fluff times, and sneaky outings with Tubbo

maybe at some point Ranboo's thoughts that he's a monster get real bad and he's convinced he'll hurt Tubbo and runs away to some woods

so then Tubbo has to go find him and bring him back before other people find him and think he's some monster come to terrorize them

who knows maybe Ranboo will even make some friends in a surprising twist?

Tubbo idea: lots of 'im not real' thoughts but also sweet friendship times

possible interference from other people coming back into Tommy's life since the magic to make Tubbo may or may not have been illegal

insisting that Tubbo isn't a real friend and this isn't healthy

Tubbo would normally agree, but seeing how much it hurts and upsets Tommy he might have some Choice Words instead

do these stories have happy endings? I wanna say yes, things work out, issues are eventually addressed, and there is lots of holding small friend in arms throughout.

Never Ever

The lives of borrowers are far from easy, even if they have family, but that doesn't mean it's terrible or always dangerous. A skilled or very sheltered borrower especially has very few worries, to the point that the universal rules of borrowers can be disregarded. But there are times when borrowers are reminded of why these rules are important, so that the worst never, ever happens.

after much thought, a 5+1 story

like '5 things a borrower should never ever forget and 1 thing they do' or something along those lines

5 are angst or close calls, etc. and 1 is good times, fluff

maybe tiny bedrock bros?

or five borrowers, one chapter each, with a borrower problem or angst, and the +1 is something nice with them all together

could be sbi+tubbo in that case

kinda slice-of-life regardless

+1 could also be angst instead of fluff, like they get caught, leaving story with an open end lol

A Race to one's demise

Slaying a giant is no easy task, especially one as infamous as The Lady Death—giants are already enough trouble without magic, thanks. Yet a few people head out for her territory anyway, not from any real drive to kill giants, simply because it was the only option given that lets them live a little longer. Their odds still aren't good, but really how much worse could a giant be from what they came from? (... No, yeah, probably worse.) Kristin and Phil find some truly exhausted kids on their doorstep and decide to invite them in, which they surprisingly agree to. The hard part is getting them to stop the halfhearted murder attempts and open up.

they know they're going to die. will they actually? nah

a handful of people are chosen for what's seen as a suicide mission

(probably benchtrio + wilbur and techno for these guys)

the mission/quest is to steal a magic item from a giant

they all upset the leaders of wherever they're from in some way, so this is those guys' way of either getting them to redeem themselves or get rid of them

both options seem like death though, if not immediate then eventually

they also specified that only one of them can come back victorious, so they're all doing their best to reach the giant's territory before each other, using sabotage or whatever they can, maybe even a little attempted murder or two at the start

near the end of their journey though there is talk of teaming up, because really None of them are capable of taking down a giant alone

The Lady Death is what they call her, a giantess that lives on the edge of a wasteland, who scoops up travelers that come too close never to be seen again

there is a lesser known story about the giantess that some of them know, saying she is more benevolent than she seems, with an angel on her shoulder

if you prove yourself to the angel she will listen and grant you passage into the wastes where, supposedly, there is a lush sanctuary somewhere (Philza's builds inspired?)

none of them actually think this version of the tale holds more truth, but it does stick with them, the tiniest idea that maybe they have a third option that's not 'death now' or 'death later'

Lots of build-up? since i want it to be g/t but the main giant only appears later. more focus on the stories they know and what they imagine they'll find

also run-ins with 'smaller' giants on the way

Obviously Kristin and Philza just gain a bunch of tired, scared kids from this

the story after that likely has found family as a main focus whereas it was more like a subplot when benchtrio+twinsduo were traveling

Twisted Fates

Being a crown prince sounds great unless you're actually a crown prince; Techno would much rather live far away from people, never having to deal with their problems, only whatever challenges come his way. Wilbur longs for a life where providing for himself isn't a constant struggle with danger wherever he looks, a life where he can relax or even meet people. Just watching and swiping the occasional thing from the royalty in this castle isn't enough to fulfill this dream. Until Techno wakes up to the disorienting sight of the castle far larger than he recalls and Wilbur is suddenly big and visible and sees an opportunity for both of them. Being in the wrong place at the wrong time might've just fixed both of their problems, or given them entirely new ones.

for this one I've settled on swapped sizes and royal au

twinsduo. Techno is (reluctantly) a crown prince and Wilbur is (enthusiastically) a borrower in the castle

Wilbur happened to be sneaking around the same room Techno is in when some magic mishap happens, swapping their sizes

princess and the pauper situation where they realize they look very similar and think the other's life sounds amazing so they swap places

I like giving borrowers tails so Wilbur has to either pass his off as the magic accident or hide it, same with his hair or he dyes it

and Techno still has bright pink hair he's unwilling to part with so he stands out a bit too much sometimes

but they seem to be having fun? at least for now. no care for fixing the situation yet

Philza is the king who loves his son very much but starts suspecting this might not be his son

angst and misunderstandings and reveals, by the end of this Phil has two sons

And that's all of them! Thank you again, I had fun brainstorming these. Also if anyone else likes these ideas feel free to use them or whatever :]

#dsmp g/t #dsmp gt #mcyt g/t #fake fic titles #ey.writing #it kinda counts lol

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