#g!wilbur

[skullsnbruises]

whoops! trauma.

#posts by sunny #sunnys art #mcyt g/t #dsmp g/t #mcyt vore #dsmp vore #vore tw #sfw vore #g!wilbur #t!tommy

[i-am-beckyu]

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 ❤️

#beckyu writes #beckyu but on ao3 #my writing #my fic #tiny!tommy #t!tommy #borrower!tommy #giant!wilbur #g!wilbur #human!wilbur #g!santa claus #mentioned g!technoblade #mentioned g!philza #mcyt gt #mcyt g/t #dsmp gt #dsmp g/t #mcyt gt community #mcyt g/t community #giant tiny #giant/tiny #gt #g/t #gt writing #g/t writing #gt community #g/t community #I AM SORRY FOR ALL THE TAGS! QwQ #BUT THERE WAS A LOT TO ADD

[brick-a-doodle-do]

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.

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

[sheena-yuet]

Bunch of random sketches ✨✨

Idk somehow I’m really into giant show their affection by licking their tiny. It just cute so me :3

Or using their finger to lift the tiny’s head uwu

#giant/tiny #mcyt gt #g/t #mcyt g/t #giant!dream #giant and tiny #giant tiny #tiny!george #dsmp g/t #g/t art #gt #g/t community #g/t drawing #g!dream #g!wilbur #giant!wilbur #tiny!tommy #t!tommy

[luna-lokisdottir]

Meeting Wilbur - Music Giant AU

(This is so bad for my first writing. You might think it's good, but I don't)

-------

"Tallulah!" The young giant heard her papa called out

She gasped and then looked at the human before exclaiming, "Papa!" getting up to greet her father at the cave entrance, Tommy raised an eyebrow.

"Papa?" he parroted.

There were more of them? Oh gods.. if there were that, just made Tommy more nervous. A baby giant was bad enough, but a full-grown one? that was a whole other story.. what were they gonna do to him?

"Papa!" he heard her exclaim in an excited tone, He watched as the other giant gasped excitedly, "Tallulah! mi niña!" he replied with the same excitement his daughter gave him, embracing his daughter in a big hug as he ruffled her hair up, Tallulah giggled as she returned the hug, and then she seemed to have remembered that Tommy was there because she quickly followed up with:

"Papa! I have something to show you!"

The Giant raised his eyebrows curiously, "Oh?" he said Tommy felt the vibrations in the ground as he exited the hug.

"What is it, love?" Tommy watched as a little grin grew on the younger ones face, and then, without any real warning, he was picked up from off of the ground and cupped into her hands he jolted as she walked over to her father to show him.

Wilbur crouched down as his daughter brought the human to him, just to gain a better look. "Ta da!" she raised her hands up to the giant who looked in surprise when he saw the little human in his daughters hands.

Tommy, on the other hand, was naturally terrified, this giant was BIG at least several feet taller than his child and given the look on his face he didn't seem too happy about him being there, Tommy gave a nervous little wave to the giant who looked down at him and then back at his child questioning:

"You brought a human into our home?" in a light yet slightly suspicious tone, Tallulah's face fell as she lowered her hands and brought Tommy closer to herself.

"Well.. no- technically, he brought himself into our home."

"That's even worse!" The Giant exclaimed as he looked back down at the human before adding:

"Tallulah, I've told you how dangerous humans are. They're smarter than they look. They'd kill us if they had the chance." The young giant looked down as her father explained this to her, "I know.. but can I just keep him Papa? please! I'd keep an eye on him if he tries anything, and he really doesn't seem like he has anywhere else to go!" she said.

Wilbur raised an eyebrow at the question, "Keep him?" he laughed lightly, "Lulah he probably has a family to go back to, we shouldn't hold him back he probably has a life too, you know."

"Please, Papa?" Tommy had to stop himself from laughing as the young giant gave her father puppy dog eyes, Wilbur sighed.. how could he say no to that face?

Tommy just kind of vibes as the two giants talked it out while being kept by a giant didn't seem like a good idea, he kind of had no where else to go since Cellbit's guards were still after him.

So, maybe this could work? For the time being, at least stay with the two giants until they finally stopped looking for him; "I-" he cleared his throat, which got the other male's attention he looked down nervously those big brown eyes were intimidating to look at even if they meant no harm.

"I actually wouldn't mind staying here with her, if that's alright." He said. Honestly, he couldn't believe that those words came out of his mouth. Wilbur raised an eyebrow while Tallulah gasped in excitement.

"Are you sure?" the giant replied, "I don't want to take you from your family or friends or whoevers waiting for you back there."

Tommy shook his head.

Although a little suspicious, Wilbur sighed and eventually gave in; "Then I guess.. he can stay." Tallulah smiled widely as she exclaimed in excitement.

"Thank you, Papa!" she smiled as she hugged her father. He laughed as he patted her on the head, "I'll take good care of him, I promise." The girl smiled, Tommy looked up at her as she took him into her side of the cave and thought to himself, 'Oh gods.. what did I get myself into-'

#giant!wilbur #giant!tallulah #tiny!tommy #mcyt g/t #dsmp g/t #qsmp g/t #g!wilbur #g!tallulah #t!tommy #this is so bad #aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa #Music Giant AU #idk what to put in the tags

[munchkin1156]

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!!!

#g/t #g/t community #sfw g/t #sfwgt #gt community #borrowers #gt #munchkin writes #mcyt gt #mcyt g/t #dsmp gt #dsmp g/t #t!techno #tiny!techno #g!wilbur #giant!wilbur #g!philza #giant!philza #g!tommy #giant!tommy #g/t writing #gt writing #I- think? That's all of them... #is this an au or not? Time will tell #Until then it's going in oneshots #maybe if I get asks about it I'll change my mind~ #that's. That's a hint. #Send me asks you cowards!!!! #but seriously. Please do. Not only about this I'm just lonely #I swear I (probably) won't bite!

[guppybubbles]

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!

[2-sleepy-for-this]

Our little brother pt.3

Finally, one of the long awaited favorites is uploaded once more! This took longer than expected and I’m headed into finals week soon so I may not upload for a bit (feel free to give me prompts still!) :D

here it is folks (I’ve had this half done for so long)

tw ~ unintentional fearplay, minor claustrophobia, anxiety, grabbing, technical kidnapping???, annoyed Technoblade

word count ~ 1.5k

The fast pitter-pattering of tiny feet sped down the hallway, nearly silent compared to the conversation and giant footsteps from the humans all around him.

Tommy didn’t know what to do. First, he was trapped in the brown-haired human's pocket for what felt like forever. Then the guy started petting him like an animal. He is not an animal! 

And he did not nearly fall asleep with those giant fingers caressing his back.

He is a big man, the biggest man, and big men don’t relax at some giants touch.

Now he just had to find somewhere to hide until all the humans went away and he could get back to the walls where he belongs. Tommy continued running against the wall, in a small hidden space near the gigantic heavy doors that humans kept walking through. No human could see him there.

The huge door slammed near him again as more humans walked out. He clutched his sensitive ears. Humans were too loud.

A shoe bigger than him slammed down just inches from his hiding place as he covered his mouth to suppress a squeak of fear. 

Even a big man like Tommy would admit that running so close to humans was terrifying, and he didn’t know what to do. There was nowhere to go.

So Tommy did the only thing he could think of. He curled into a tiny ball right on the floor in the shadows, where he hoped no human could find him.

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

“Wilbur.”

Wilbur winced in surprise at how stern Techno’s voice was over the phone. He had received a call from his twin not long after he lost his sunshine and nearly jumped out of his skin when his phone rang in his pocket.

“Heyy Tech, just got out of my exam. I think it went well personally, but I could have done better on the essay honestly-“

“Wilbur. Stop talking.”

Wilbur knew his attempt to change subjects was futile, and he knew exactly why Techno had called.

“So… what are you calling for?”

Wilbur tried to ask, smiling innocently while talking, even though he knew Techno couldn’t see his facial expression.

“A few minutes ago, I came home to check on the creature we found, and it’s not here.”

Techno waited for Wilbur to speak but kept going when the other end of the call stayed quiet.

“I looked in the cage and it wasn’t there, Wil. So, either it escaped, or you brought it to class after we agreed you wouldn’t. Judging by the silence, I’m guessin it’s the latter?”

“…alright, yeah, it was me… I just thought it would be nice to take them out for a while!”

“Well, you said you were done with your exam, so come back here. I wanna see the little thing again.”

This time, Wilbur paled at Techno’s response. He couldn’t go back to the apartment empty handed…

Now he was on a time limit.

And a very short one at that.

…he just hoped his sunshine was close by.

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

Tommy didn’t know how long it had been since he hid. It felt like forever, but it couldn’t have been more than half an hour. 

He couldn’t see any good openings to run or get into the walls. The constant foot traffic calmed down, but there were still a handful of humans standing and talking. Too risky to move yet.

One of the humans that was in a pair started walking away. His white hoodie was hard to look at under the bright lights, but the shiny necklace around his neck was mesmerizing.

Tommy watched him disappear down the hallway before turning to look at the other guy who was just standing there on one of those glass rectangles that humans love.

After a few minutes, the guy—who was wearing a bright green hoodie, who does that?—still hadn’t looked up and seemed oblivious to his surroundings.

Tommy had a choice.

He could stay in his little corner, curled up for who knows how much longer… or he could try to make it under the door he was next to.

He needed to see if there was a way out.

Tommy held his breath as he uncurled his body, keeping his tail wrapped around his leg tightly.

He slowly inched to a stand and started to shuffle closer to the door.

He took shallow, silent breaths, even though his body wanted to hyperventilate.

As more minutes ticked by, he got closer and closer to his destination. He could almost touch the wood of the door.

Then the human sighed.

Tommy couldn’t help the full body flinch he reacted with… when he opened his eyes, large green ones stared right back.

The human stepped forward and was close enough to grab him in seconds, so he ran, bolting for the crack under the door even though he knew it would be pointless.

His escape plan was foiled as the human noticed where he was running and swept him off the ground and into a giant fist… the third one he’s been in since the alleyway.

Tommy, so desperate for an escape, screamed as he was lifted higher, tears rolling down his cheeks while he struggled.

“Wha…? Hey, hey, hey, little guy, relax.”

The human's eyes widened at his struggles. 

Good. He caught him by surprise. A better chance of escaping.

Tommy continued to squirm and fight against the hand he was in until the other giant hand came up and restrained Tommy. 

He was completely trapped, pressed against two palms with just his head to move. His limbs were completely stuck in place.

Still, his squirms continued for a few moments more before it just became too much for him. Tommy had been so close to escaping all the human monsters, but it was all for nothing now.

Tommy couldn’t help it when he muttered one word in fear;

“Please!”

In an instant Tommy froze in the humans hold.

He had just spoken.

No borrower was ever supposed to speak to a human. He broke the borrower code.

Tommy closed his eyes, tensing up while he waited for the human to do something to him. All of the scary stories he was told about breaking the borrower's code came to the front of his mind. What could the human be planning to do with him?

“It’s alright, little guy… you’re safe.”

Tommy opened his eyes in surprise. Those huge green eyes were still looking at him, but now they seemed… softer, more welcoming.

He was confused. Why did the human look like that? They were supposed to look mean and scary! 

His head tilted slightly as the hands around him loosened. Now Tommy was sitting in the giant's palm, mouth agape as his body relaxed from tiredness.

“My name is Dream… do you have a name? Or should I keep calling you little guy?”

Tommy wasn’t sure what to do, he can’t speak to a human again… but he had already talked before. 

The human knows he can talk… what if he gets mad that Tommy won’t?

“T-…Tommy.”

“Hm, Tommy? That’s a nice name. Can you tell me why you’re here all alone, Tommy?”

What could Tommy say? He was alone… but he couldn’t tell the human, Dream, that. 

But he was also running away from someone too…

Maybe, if the hu- Dream thought he was trying to find someone, then he’d let Tommy go… 

It was risky, but Dream looked like he could be tricked.

“I.. I’m lost… I lost my human. I can’t find him anywhere..”

Dream looked at him with a mix of confusion and pity… it was working.

“Your human? Like… your friend?”

“Uh… yeah.”

“Well.. what does he look like? And what’s his name? I can help you look.”

Great. Now he was stuck with this human while he looked for the one he didn’t want to find.

“He has… brown hair, and brown eyes… and a yellow hoodie. And his name is… um..”

What was that humans name again? The pink haired one said it so many times, but he could barely hear over his heartbeat…

Wil… Wil-something. He still couldn’t remember… he would just have to make it up then. He was too far into this now.

“Wilby… his name is Wilby.”

“Alright.. let’s go find.. Wilby then!”

Tommy was lifted higher into the air as Dream stood to his full height. He clasped at his tail anxiously while he was cupped against Dream’s chest. Tommy hoped he’d never have to get used to this…

Tommy watched Dream walk the length of the entire hallway in seconds, faster than Tommy’s tiny legs could cross in hours, like it was nothing, while he looked for Tommy’s human.

Tommy could only hold his breath and hope ‘Wilby’ had already given up looking for him and left.

He didn’t want to be put right back into the hands he tried to escape from so hard.

Then he saw that brown-haired beanpole crouched on the ground, and once he felt the chest he was leaning against breathe a sigh of relief, he knew he was done for.

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

hope you enjoyed! (Told you there would be another main character)

I wonder how poor Wilby will react when he sees his sunshine in Dream’s hands?

as always, get some rest, eat and drink something, and send me things! :)

#g/t community #giant/tiny #mcyt g/t #g/t #tiny!tommy #t!tommy #giant!techno #g!techno #giant!wilbur #g!wilbur #our little brother au #i honestly like this chapter #Very cute #techno was not happy #XD #ily guys #<3 #giant!dream #g!dream #mentioned giant!punz

[ana-lmao]

The Borrower In My Walls (Chapter I)

Hehehe, Sneeg fic!

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Sneeg was a borrower that lived in many peoples walls, He was caught often or left himself because of the lack of food. However, this house was almost perfect! True there was a big family living there with a lot of guests but they left often and left out a lot of food!

There was a blonde haired tall man with 3 kids, Oh god they were chaotic, really loud as well... there was one with matching blonde hair that was the loudest and probably the youngest, there was a pink-haired one which was calmer and liked to read books and then there was a brown-haired kid who was in the middle. The blonde haired kid always had a mess in his room so it was the easiest to "Borrow" from, anything missing would be blamed on the messes he made. Sneeg does not know much about the guests that visit, he often hears the name ran-ranbo, ranboo or something and tub-o, He can't memorize them.

Phil once came home from the park and it was really late, Sneeg did not expect him to be outside, he thought he was sleeping! Faster then light Sneeg bolted into his tunnels, leaving a mess of things he was getting for the night. Phil noticed this and thought that one of the kids made a mess...again. He cleaned up and went to sleep.

Sneeg was having a mini panic attack realizing he had almost been caught, that could have been really REALLY bad, when he was sure the human went to bed he continued his heist, he saw random bags on the table and peeked inside, there was A LOT of food, Sneeg thought the bags meant it was going to be thrown out so he took out as much food as he could and went back inside his tunnels, getting ready to sleep on his hand-made bed made from wool and matches.

Next morning:

-ALRIGHT! WHO THE FUCK TOOK ALMOST ALL OF THE GROCERIES I LEFT!- Sneeg heard the adult human yell, he realized what he had done and his antennas flew upwards and his eyes widened in fear.

-Not me! -The blonde one said

-Me neither -That was the brown haired one

-I didn't-The pink-haired said in confusion

-Well somebody took the food in here and if nobody confesses I will check the camera footage!-The adult human states.

Sneeg felt his heart stop. They had cameras. They were going to see him. They were going to KILL HIM, torture him! Maybe even put him in a jar and keep him as a pet! They were going to do experiments on him! Sell him! something awful was going to happen...But...If he left...He would not have to deal with this...He packed everything he could and when the adult went up into the attic to check the cameras he started to get out, it was going to be hard considering all 3 kids were in front of the door.

Meanwhile Phil:

-Okay now to check which one of these little shits stole all the food.-Phil pulls up the camera footage and watched closely, nobody was coming down, except for a small blur on the screen that went on the table and grabbed stuff, he thought it was a mouse but after zooming in he saw a small...Creature? it was wearing blue clothing, which looked like he just stitched random blue pieces of fabric and had antennas. He also reverted the camera footage to see the same thing peeking out of a mouse hole and getting ready to escape.

Phil bolts out of the room goes downstairs to see his sons in confusion on why he was so quickly running down the stairs, were they in that much trouble? Phil quickly notices the blue Creature near a window and grabs it on instinct.

Sneeg's heart was racing and he was squirming in the adults hand, trying to bite him but failing, he was screaming- or to say screeching and could barely see through his tears but all of them were staring at him.

-LET ME GO! LET ME GO! PLEASE! I'M SORRY! I WILL LEAVE! LET ME GO! DON'T HURT ME! -Sneeg was blurting out each word.

-D-dad what the fuck is that?!-The brown haired person shouts in confusion

-I-I don't know!-The adult says while tightening his grip, which makes the creature screech more.

Phil notices an empty jar on the table and puts the thing in there, which calms him down enough to stop screaming but still makes him even more panicked.

-L-LET ME OUT! I DON'T WANT TO BE A PET! I DON'T WANT TO BE ENSLAVED! I WANNA LEAVE! PLEASE!-Sneeg kept crying out.

-Uhm...What do we do with it?-The blonde kid tunes in.

-Well, we are not keeping him, he is clearly terrified but he has certain injuries that caught my attention...Also yes he was the one stealing the food.

-Eh whatever, I'm going back to my room to read-The pink haired one spoke up and went to his room.

Sneeg rolled up in a ball and was crying, for a long time until the lid of the jar opened up and the adult dropped some food in it, he was right, he was going to be a pet.

After eating the blonde kid picks up the jar and heads to his room, Sneeg is panicking being picked up but gets used to it quickly.

-Soo, how long have you been here?-He asks, Sneeg does not answer, still scared.

The kid taps the glass on the jar to have him speak up.

-A-A few months! d-don't do that again please...-Sneeg speaks up.

-Well, I'm Tommy! What's your name little one?-Tommy introduces himself, but Sneeg stays quiet for a few minutes before quietly saying:

-Sneeg.

-Nice to meet you.

-P-Please let me out, I don't want to be a pet...Please...

-Pet? You are not a pet?- Phil said you had some injuries he wants to help out with.

-O-oh...Can you still let me out?..

-Nuh uh, you will run away!

-I won't! please! I don't wanna be in here anymore!

-Ugh fine! but if you run away You and I are going to be in so much trouble.- Tommy opens the lid and pulls Sneeg out with his hand.

-No. Running. Away-He says while placing Sneeg on his bed, he does not run, even if he really wants to, Tommy will outrun him.

#t!sneeg #g!tommy #g!philza #g!wilbur #g!techno #sneeg g/t #philza g/t #tommy g/t #wilbur g/t #techno g/t #borrower!sneeg #dsmp #osmp #moth!sneeg #The Borrower In My Walls #sneeg #tommy #philza #wilbur #techno

[zero-to-zero-to-zero-again]

Ophidiophobia (1)

Ophidiophobia: Overwhelming Fear Of Snakes

Word Count: 1,711

TW's: Unintentional Fearplay, Little Bit of Angst, Fear of Death, Profanity, Referring to a Person as "it"

Characters: C!Tommy, C!Wilbur

Summary: Tommy's new home in the forest is very safe...except for the giant snake that slithers about the place. That's fine, though. How hard can it be to avoid a single naga?

Aka: I have naga brainrot and I'm about to make it everyone's problem

Of course the stupid snake had to decide to take a little sunbath right near the only pond in the whole forest. Sometimes, Tommy had to wonder if the giant beast's every action was just to spite him. It was the only thing that made sense. Feel like climbing? Snake in the tree. Trying to take shelter during a storm? Snake in the cave. Thirsty? Snake by the water.

And yet, he wasn't planning on moving away any time soon. This decision rested on two blatant facts:

The naga's presence scared off most other predators

He had to prove that he wasn't going to be pushed around by some bitch that just loused about most of the day without a care in the world.

Tommy glared spitefully at the golden scales glistening in sunlight. Part of him wondered if he should just go for it. If they were asleep then he'd just be able to dip in and dip-it was looking at him.

He backpedaled on the branch. The leaves snapped together without his hands to hold them apart, effectively serving to provide him with cover. He grabbed his chest just to make sure his heart was still beating inside. It was. Very fast.

"Are you stalking me?" a silky voice inquired. Tommy's blood ran cold. It was talking to him. That...was fine. That was totally fine. It could taunt him so long as it taunted him from a distance. "From stalking me to ignoring me. You really must decide whether you're obsessed with me or not."

"I'm not!" Tommy shouted overzealously. He clapped a hand over his mouth. What was he thinking?

"Ah, right. And in your pursuit of totally not being obsessed with me, you've been following me for at least a week now."

The winged boy ground his teeth together. How was it possible for him to hate the naga even more than he already had?

"I'm not following you! You're always wherever I'm going!"

The naga snorted. Tommy dared to peek through the leaves just to ensure it wasn't trying to sneak towards him while he had his guard down. The snake didn't seem bothered at all. It rested its chin on folded arms, savoring its every care-free second spent in the sun.

"You caught me. I've been using my soothsaying ability to figure out exactly where you're going to be and get there first."

Tommy stiffened.

"Really?" he asked.

"No," the naga laughed. It's laugh was so deceptively sweet. Like a siren's song. Tommy's face heated.

"Fuck you!"

His shout only seemed to further egg on the giant snake being as its light chuckling crescendoed into an all-out fit of laughter.

"Ugh, I hate you!" Tommy hollered.

The beast propped its torso up on the soft soil at the water's edge. It leaned its chin into its hand, drowsily staring at nothing in particular in the distance.

"Don't be like that. I'm only teasing."

"Tease someone else," Tommy muttered.

"Who else is there? I only have one stalker."

"I'M NOT STALKING YOU!"

Tommy flew off in a huff to the sound of smug tittering behind him. Maybe by the time he came back, the damn thing would be gone.

...

Tommy's head was on a swivel. The naga hadn't left until there was hardly any sun left to soak up. The clearing was likely the last place you wanted to be at night. If not for the fact that the nocturnal animals were on the prowl than for the simple fact that Tommy wouldn't be able to see them.

That meant he was on a timer, racing the sun as it slowly crept across the burnt orange sky.

He dipped cupped hands into the cool water and raised it to his lips. He savored each greedy sip he managed to get down before taking the time run a few handfuls of water through his hair. He threw it over his head onto his outspread wings, shaking the cool droplets from his feathers in a spray.

"Huh, I'm surprised you came back."

Tommy choked on his next sip. He coughed hard, dislodging clear liquid from his throat straight back into its source.

Glittery gold eyes were locked on him from the edge of the treeline. Slitted pupils tracked his every breath. And yet, it had the nerve to still lay there so casually as it watched him.

"You almost...you almost killed me, you dick!" Tommy shouted between ragged breaths.

"Oops," the creature deadpanned.

Right. Tommy almost forgot who-or what-he was talking to. This thing wouldn't care if he died. Hell, it probably wanted to kill him. It was even scarier closer up. Clean, white talons at the ends of its slender fingertips, two sharp teeth on either side of its mouth, and an eerie amount of bronze scales lining its face.

Not even a beast of its massive size could close the distance between them before Tommy would get a chance to react but that didn't make him feel any safer. He retreated back a few more paces, ready to take off at the first sign of trouble. Er-well-maybe the second sign of trouble. The beast itself was practically trouble incarnate.

"I would have been gone already if you hadn't hogged the pond the whole day," Tommy snapped.

"You'll have to forgive me for blocking access to the only water source in the entire forest," the naga said flatly with a roll of its eyes.

Tommy knew it was being sarcastic but how could he possibly dispute that? The only reason he wanted this pond in particular was because it was the sole water source in the naga's territory. If he admitted to that, he'd probably be called a stalker again.

"You're such a dick," Tommy opted to mutter instead.

"So you've said."

"And I'll say it again!"

"Do it."

"You. Are. A. Massive. Dickhead."

The snake flipped itself onto its back, coils shifting ever so slightly against the shrubbery surrounding it. It pressed a hand to its chest.

"I'm heartbroken. The rabid gremlin child thinks I'm a dick," it sighed.

"I'm not a child!"

"But you are rabid?" the snake asked, inching away slightly as though Tommy had just admitted to radiating poison.

Tommy growled in frustration. There was no winning when he was talking to this thing, was there?

"Fuck you. I'm leaving."

The boy stormed off.

"Nooo. Please. Come back. I don't know what I'll do without you around to insult me," the naga said dryly.

Sardonic prick. If Tommy never saw that snake again, it would be too soon.

...

Tommy stretched his feathery limbs skyward with a groan. Soft pops and creaks rippled through his joints. Morning had come quickly. He was almost disappointed to find the sunlight streaming through the foliage. As beautiful as the sight was, it was also his sign to get up.

It came as no shock to him that the naga had returned to the pond. Now that it knew he needed the water, it would probably stay there all day just to spite him. A brass tail was laid straight out behind him, his arms folded beneath his head as he laid on a rock inches from the water's surface.

Its head was turned to the side, eyes closed gently. Sleeping. It was sleeping.

Tommy swallowed thickly. He couldn't go a whole other day without a drink. His dry mouth had carried over from the previous day given how little he'd gotten. He raked his fingers through messy blonde locks.

It was worth a shot. He wasn't afraid. Not in the slightest. If that naga came at him, he'd punch it square in the jaw. Knock out.

He glided on the morning breeze and landed on the opposite side of small body of water. If he followed the stream long enough, maybe he'd be able to find a new source but it ran too far beyond the border of the naga's territory for his liking.

He kept his eyes glued to the snake as he landed. As silently as possible, he knelt down beside the pond and dipped his hands in.

"So do you have a name?"

Though he should have been terrified to hear the naga's voice-and to a degree, he most certainly was-Tommy was surprised to find that the first emotion he felt at the sound was annoyance. He finished drinking and took a step back. The monster hadn't moved so much as an inch.

With its eyes still closed, Tommy had to wonder how it had even known that he was there.

"Do you usually ask your meals what their names are?" he demanded.

"Mm, sometimes."

That answer didn't quite sit right with him. He didn't know what he'd been expecting.

"Tommy," he stated.

"Tommy," the naga tried the name for itself. "Hello, Tommy, I'm Wilbur."

Tommy didn't like whatever game they were playing.

"I don't care?" he said in a tone laced with confusion.

The naga-Wilbur-scoffed.

"You're supposed to say, 'Nice to meet you Wilbur. Sorry for calling you a dickhead. I now see what a kind and gentle soul you are.'"

Wilbur's impression of his voice was gritty, nasally, and loud. Three things that Tommy absolutely was not.

"Nice to meet you Wilbur," Tommy said. His voice was a caricature of itself, more akin to Wilbur's mockery than his own tone. Wilbur smiled contently. "Dickhead."

Wilbur sighed. He lifted his head up ever so slightly.

"Here am sharing my pond with you and you can't even bring yourself to acknowledge my kindness. I'm honestly a little hurt," Wilbur purred.

"Good," Tommy snapped.

The naga raked languid fingers through his cocoa locks. It blinked bleary eyes at him.

"You've stuck around a lot longer than I thought you would," Wilbur remarked. "Is that desperation or do you really love me that much?"

"It's just...quiet around here."

The pair seemed equally surprised by the genuine nature of the response. The naga hummed.

"That's why I like it, too."

Tommy idled there by the pond, savoring the exact tranquility he'd come for. It wasn't until the snake's scales slid against the rock that he remembered the exact reason he wasn't meant to stay there. He flew off into the trees, leaving Wilbur to lay there alone.

~

This piece ran a little longer than I thought it would so I'm chopping it up into a few parts. Stay tuned! The next one's where it gets angsty ; ) Should be out soon.

Part Two Part Three

#g!wilbur #t!tommy #naga!wilbur #winged!tommy #mcyt g/t #g/t fluff #giant/tiny #g/t writing #g/t #unintentional fearplay

[goosedawn]

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

[skullsnbruises]

when ur stupid little brother is heavy and insists on sleeping in ur stomach

#mcyt g/t #posts by sunny #sunnys art #dsmp g/t #mcyt vore #dsmp vore #vore tw #sfw vore #g!wilbur #t!tommy #naga!tommy

[i-am-beckyu]

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

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.

----------------------------------           ▶• ılıılıılıılıılıılı. +1 ----------------------------------

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.

__________________________             ▶• ılıılıılıılıılıılı. +1

__________________________

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

#beckyu writes #beckyu but on ao3 #my writing #my fic #tiny!tommy #t!tommy #borrower!tommy #ghost!tommy #giant!wilbur #g!wilbur #human!wilbur #mcyt gt #mcyt g/t #dsmp gt #dsmp g/t #mcyt gt community #mcyt g/t community #giant tiny #giant/tiny #gt #g/t #gt writing #g/t writing #gt community #g/t community #I swear every new story I add more tags and it hurts my brain when I stare at them all #but also: HAHAHA SEE MY FIC PEOPLE IN YOUR TAGS!!! I'M THAT WRITER GREMLIN WHO WANTS YOU TO TAKE AND EAT MY WORDS MWAHAHA

[brick-a-doodle-do]

i'm so sleepy but i decided to finish this <3 i've had insomnia the past couple of months, and while finally i'm slowly starting to feel a little better i got the idea for this in like may on probably the worst night of it. not very good, just some comfort noms 'cause who doesn't love those? :D

and though it's no improvement

wc: 1988

cw: vore (sfw, nsx), half-willing prey, swearing, mention of depression, mention/description of gore (very brief)

—–—

Nobody could sleep. 

Tommy wasn’t talking for Tubbo, or Ranboo, or Dream (Although with the imprisonment of the guy he couldn’t be positive on that one), or anyone else. 

He, Tommy, couldn’t sleep, and he wanted to make sure he felt like everyone was sharing his problem.

A consistent two nights of tossing and turning, throwing his blanket off of him when his skin pulsed uncomfortably with the warmth, and pulling it back on when the night grew too windy, and crying into his pillow with a dry-wet throat over the fact that his eyes felt so heavy but he couldn’t drift off. He counted the animals that passed by his window, stared at his ceiling, like maybe he’d wake up in a tent with a tedious headspace and a hyper ghost there to talk to him about his latest story with a particular blue sheep. But everything in his fantasy is gone. 

Logstedshire has been blown up, his tent has been abandoned, and Ghostbur has been sent back to Limbo. Everything good in his life always leaves him. It was only a matter of time before the days he called useless and the time he called torturesome were brought to and end, and it hurt him to think the last ounce of happiness from his was when he was with Technoblade, the traitor he thought to be a friend, or when he was running around with a Mexican and female edition of his mentor-slash-torturer that he was half convinced were hallucinations. Those were gone, Technoblade was thousands of blocks away, Ran-bitch is taking over his Tubbo, and even with Dream in prison, Tommy’s life was awful, and flavourless.

It’s been lately that he realised it’s because of him; had he not kept his secret stash, had he not pulled out his axe so eagerly, or had he kept a better eye on his only remaining remnant of Ghostbur, he’d still be clinging onto his happiness. 

Not like exile was a particularly reminiscent-worthy time.

Or, rather, was it? It had been the only time that he’d ever gotten the chance to feel productive, like he was doing something. He’d claimed he’d been lonely but he was surrounded by people—although in the moment he’d been shadowed by anger of being pitied that perhaps it felt lonely. He had been free, and had gotten a taste of letting himself choose, and had let himself bask in the piss-poor feeling of not being the crowd favourite any longer. For some reason, that felt pure now, a feeling that he had never experienced before that made him delusional, yet delusionally thrilled.. Dream wasn’t there to dictate him, he was just there to reset him, which got the cogs moving in Tommy’s brain if he was thinking about it, because how else was he to convince himself a secret stash was a good idea if not because someone kept resetting his progress?

Tommy tosses again, half of his blanket crumpled at his bed. He tosses onto his back and the blanket slides off. He sighs, then grumbles. The night is unusually cold, but it’s also unusually warm. It’s not right though. His head feels like it’s splitting. A million thoughts race through his train of thought, never condoning his slumber—no matter his pathetic desire for it.

Before he lets the lights behind his eyes grow any longer as his body goes numb but his thoughts keep busy, he opens his eyes and sits up. His hands grab anxiously over the side of his bed, grabbing the clay cup floating in an iron bucket of water. He drags it in the water and takes an eager sip of it, the room-temperature water sliding down his throat. As he swallows, it stings, but it feels better.

Carelessly, Tommy tosses the cup back into the bucket and shifts out of bed, shoving his blanket back onto his bed before walking around to the front door. He can barely call it that anymore, but he needs one for it to be home. Otherwise he wouldn’t be beating the raccoon allegations. 

He pulls the crooked and whiny thing open and steps out. The night air is like a slap to his face, but it felt nice. 

Tommy steps out and shuts the door behind him, then faces the quiet world. To his right, the bench is left untouched with the newest version of the jukebox set slightly off. He considered listening to one of them, but it didn’t feel right. There was no occasion for it, no conclusion to celebrate. Because Tommy liked happy endings, and Wilbur didn’t feel like one.

“Still can’t sleep, huh?” Tommy jumps, his skin crawling at the sound of the loud and gravelly voice. Speak of the devil. Abruptly, the nice air turned into a cloud of disappointment that reeked of cigarette smoke.

“What?” Tommy asks, turning around to source the giant—who he realised very quickly was sitting on the hill behind his home, legs crossed and looking down at him. His glasses give off an eerie red glare that makes him shiver. Tommy’s eyes widened. “What the fuck are you doing?!”

“Enjoying the fresh air! Do you know how long it’s been since I saw the night, Tommy?” 

Tommy scoffs. “Do you have to do it on top of my house, though? Rather disruptive, don’t you think?” he bargains, eyes narrowed. He slips his arms over his chest, trying to ignore the voice in the back of his mind telling him to run. 

“I don’t recall having a house, I think that blew up. Or—rather, have you seen much of Pogtopia?”

He tenses at the name. “It’s been abandoned since the last time we were there, I don’t fucking give a shit about that place, it messed you up.”

“Aw, Tommy, you think so?”

“I know so, man. You were n—” Tommy pauses. “Stop fucking talking to me! I’m not here to talk about your mental health. I just want to sleep. But I can’t because you’re fucking alive!” 

“Ouch,” Wilbur murmurs. “I thought you wanted me back?”

Tommy flinches at the words. “I didn’t want shit, don’t put words in my fucking mouth,” he spits out, looking off into the distance for a moment, before settling back on the revivee. 

Wilbur throws his hands up gently in defeat, a god-awful smile peeking through the torch-lit property.

Somewhere in the distance, through the silence grown taut, is the growl of a nearby zombie. Not as near as the one sitting on his fucking roof.

“That’s my house you’re sitting on,” he points out. 

Wilbur huffs, like it was a joke. “I thought so.”

Tommy wrinkles his face. What a fucking asshole to be here, unannounced, basically stalking him. Tommy sighs, ‘Prime’ coming out in a gravelly whine from his throat. He wants to say something, he really does, but Wilbur beats him to it before he can shuffle his thoughts into something appropriate for their situation.

“You’re having trouble sleeping, aren’t you?” Wilbur accuses. Tommy doesn’t have it in him to pick a fight, so tentatively, he nods.

“That’s kind of why I’m out here,” he mumbles.

Tommy can practically feel Wilbur’s urge to ask him The Question seeping off of his roof and pooling around his feet—so much that he shudders at it. Wilbur wouldn’t, he knows Tommy’s hesitance with him now. Things weren’t like L’manburg anymore, they haven’t been for a long while.

“Can I help with that?”

There it was.

“No.” Simple. Tommy’s hands are shaking. Wilbur stares at Tommy so intensely, so attentive to his little brother, if they could be considered that anymore. The giant’s hands twitch, Tommy notices through his peripheral vision.

“Not even as a brotherly welcome-back gift, Tommy?” Wilbur asks, almost pouting. Infuriating.

Tommy, though, does consider it. The feeling of being embraced by Wilbur all around. If he was lucky, such a cold soul would follow down to a cold gut. He smirks at the thought. Still, he persists with a decline: “No, Wilbur.”

The next moment goes by in a blur; he’s standing on the grass near his house, then a second later his vision is obscured and gravity shifts as something grabs him, gently but secure, and Tommy’s left squirming in what he recognized as Wilbur’s grasp. He kicks aimlessly at Wilbur’s domed fingers, grumbling at the entrapment. 

When torch-light comes back to view, he’s met with Wilbur’s face. He rolls his eyes at it, looking away. Or, the best he can when there’s a giant mouth and a willing predator who’s captured his prey.

“It’s been thirteen years, I’ve felt empty. So fucking empty, Tommy. Haven’t you just felt useless without my embrace?”

Tommy snickers. “No, Wil. I haven’t felt useless, I’ve been productive out from under your wing. I felt free for the first time in years.”

A low grumble comes from Wilbur’s throat, something of a purr, less graceful than it had in L’manburg, but still almost lulling. If not for the suffocating stench of smoke, he might’ve folded.

Tommy’s pulled a little further from Wilbur’s face, who stares at him, long and hard, long and sad. Tommy still feels free at this moment, like he can do what he wants to do.

And…he doesn’t want to sit in a stomach with the same humidity as out here, in arguably worse conditions considering the absence of a nightly breeze. But, Wilbur was back, and there was always some part of him that has vouched to never say no to Wilbur. So, he shrinks a little in defeat. “Fine, dickhead. I don’t say no to you, blah blah, fucking eat me if you have to.”

Wilbur seemed satisfied enough to whisper a small thank you before pulling Tommy back to his face, parting his lips and letting Tommy do his own thing. Pleased with the effort, Tommy stood up and placed a tentative lip to Wilbur’s blood-stained and scarred lips, climbing over them and his bottom row of teeth, almost tumbling over when he loses his balance. He stumbles, catching himself on Wilbur’s instinctual tongue, which flicks up slightly to offer its support. He stands on the edge of Wilbur’s gums before clambering onto his tongue, padding along the uneven surface before sitting in the middle with practised ease. 

Wilbur’s turn.

At Tommy’s still form, Wilbur tilts Tommy slowly to the side of his mouth. Tommy shifts carefully to sit on his molars as Wilbur licks at him, coating him in a generous layer of saliva for an easy trip. The feeling used to be so alien to him, then it was once normal, and now, he hates to say it was nostalgic. Part of him was waiting for Wilbur’s lips to part and for light to flood in from the morning, trees fluttering in the wind and the Camarvan somewhere in the distance as the two of them treated each other to a picnic for the early days of their Nation’s upbringing.

When Wilbur’s lips part, it’s dark. He can see the bench, vaguely, and the stupid fucking duck that sat in the middle of the server with trident pools decorating the rest. He pats at Wilbur’s frozen tongue, letting him know he’s okay. Satisfied, Wilbur’s maw becomes pitch black again and he goes off of muscle memory for the next chain of events.

He’s brought over to the edge of Wilbur’s mouth, half-dangling over throat, and suddenly, Wilbur swallows and he’s sent down a squeezing tight tunnel along with a pool of saliva. He travels down, the disruptive beating of Wilbr’s heart distracting him enough for him to barely register his final destination. 

Tommy lands with a squish, the surface under him having shifted from teeth to gut in a few half-predicted seconds. The blond sighs at the intense heat that follows in Wilbur’s gut. It was fine, he could suck it up for a few hours. 

—–—

#mw #brickfic #tw vore #mcyt g/t #mcyt gt #dsmp g/t #dsmp gt #dream smp g/t #dream smp gt #t!tommy #tiny!tommy #g!wilbur #giant!wilbur #mmgmmfmdfhdf i love them sm <333 #this feels like my old fics ahg the rushed ending with the witty last sentence !! dfjvjdsf those will haunt me but i love 'em<3

[sheena-yuet]

g!Wilbur giving all his friens a lick :p

the idea of affectionate licks is adorable

But I don’t think all his friends enjoy his affection hahahahah just look at their face

-

Small update ikr I’m not very active recently cuz I got too many things to do oof but I got several ideas and maybe I should try to draw some oc . I somehow wrote a brief concept of the story but I just need some time to sort out the whole story. Cuz I’m not really good at story and always give up on the half way :p

#giant/tiny #g/t #giant tiny #mcyt gt #mcyt g/t #giant and tiny #inbox response #g/t art #g/t community #gt #g!wilbur #t!phiza #t!tommy #t!techno

[luna-lokisdottir]

Meeting Wilbur - Music Giant AU Pt. 2

------‐---

"Tallulah!" Tommy heard a voice call out from the cave entrance, the blonde watched as the giant gasped.

"Papa!" and then gently dropped him on her bed, Tommy made a small 'oof!' as he watched her stand up to greet the other giant at the door and then parroting:

" 'Papa!?'" There were more of them!? oh gods.. a baby giant was bad enough, but a full-grown one? who knows what might happen, especially since Tallulah had said he wasn't very fond of humans. What was he going to do with him?

His thoughts faded as he heard the little giant exclaim, "Papa! Papa! you're back!" "Tallulah! mi niña!" The Giant exclaimed with the same excitement his daughter had given him; the little one giggled as her father ruffled her hair a little, Tommy smiled a slight bit as he watched the brunette fix her hair back up and then she seemed to have remembered that he was there because the first thing she did as she exited the hug was:

"Oh! Papa, guess what! I have something to show you!" Tommy could feel his stomach drop as she said this, watching as the other giant raised an eyebrow at his daughter.

"Oh?" The ground shook as her father knelt down. To her height, Tommy could make out his brown fluffy hair and glasses as he did so. "What is it, love?" Tallulah giggled as she ran over to her bed and picked the blonde up from the covers and placed him into the palm of her hands.

"Oh! up we go!" He exclaimed. She giggled as she ran over to her father, "Close your eyes!" The brunette said, the elder giant chuckled as he did as he was told.

"What's this about love?" he asked now with both of his eyes closed."You'll see! hold out your hands, too!" he held out his hands, Tommy yelped a little as the toddler put him into her father's hands.

"Okay! you can open them!" Tommy sat uncomfortably watching as those big brown eyes stared down at him. From the look on his face, he could already tell this giant didn't look too happy that he was here, he watched as the giant looked down at him and then back at his child as he cleared his throat and spoke:

"You brought a human into our home?" Tallulah's face fell as he spoke, Tommy watched as the young one rocked back and forth on her two feet.

"Well.. no, " she replied as her father raised an eyebrow, "Technically he brought himself into our home, he just.. woke me up so-" her father took a deep breath as he stood to his full height and even though he wasn't a fan of the little one, Tommy was kind of surprised to see how gentle he was being with him, he was also a bit terrified because this giant was BIG at least several feet taller than his child.

The ground shook as the giant moved closer to his child, putting a hand on her shoulder as he said, "Tallulah, I've told you how dangerous humans are they're smarter than they look.. they could kill us if they had the chance. Do you think I want to see you end up like your mo-"

"I know, Papa!" she quickly interrupted, "But can I just keep him, please?" Tommy panicked internally.

'Keep me?'

"Keep him?" the Giant replied, "Lulah, he's not a dog or cat he probably has a family to go back to. You wouldn't want--" "Pretty, please?" he chuckled as his daughter gave him puppy dog eyes. How could he say no to that face?

Tommy just kind of vibed in the giants hand as they talked it out before beginning to weigh out his options while being stuck with two giants didn't seem ideal. He really didn't have anywhere else to go at the moment, and since no one really enters the enchanted forest to begin with, it would be the perfect place to hide out in at least for a little bit.

So before he changed his mind, he began to speak up, "I- *ahem*" he cleared his throat, catching the other males attention he laughed nervously those big brown eyes were intimidating to look at even if they meant no harm at the moment.

"I actually wouldn't mind staying here with her if that's alright with you?" The giant raised an eyebrow suspiciously as Tallulah gasped in excitement. "Are you sure? You don't have any family or friends who are waiting for you back there?"

He shook his head no, as the giant sighed and then looked over at his child. "Then.. I guess he can stay" Tallulah exclaimed in excitement as she grabbed the little human from her father's hands.

"Yay! oh, thank you, Papa! I'll take good care of him!" she smiled as she gave her papa a big hug he laughed as he ruffled her hair again.

"Oh, since you're going to be staying here, I'm Wilbur, by the way." The giant- Wilbur introduced as he crouched down to eye level with Tommy lifting a finger as if he was holding his hand out to shake.

"Tommy." The human replied, reaching his hand out to shake his um.. finger Tallulah giggled at the exchange, and then she took Tommy to her room.

"I can't wait to show Chayanne, Quackity, Tilín, and Uncle Philza! I wonder what they'll say.." she ranted as Wilbur watched her take him into her room. He laughed before going off to do other stuff.

[Tags: @brick-a-doodle-do @local-squishmallow @i-am-beckyu ]

#giant!wilbur #dsmp g/t #g/t community #mcyt g/t #g!wilbur #giant!tallulah #qsmp g/t #giant!philza #giant!chayanne #giant!tilin #giant!quackity #all mentioned #tiny!tommy #t!tommy