#giant!techno

[x-pair-o-dice-x]

"quick" little thing i made for this post,,, sksmslsmsk.

#mcyt gt #mcyt g/t #my art #tiny!ranboo #giant!techno #pretty happy with this;;; sksnksjsks #water took a hot second to draw; but i like how it came out! #just don't look at it too long or you'll start to see where it starts repeating kejdkdmdkd

[2-sleepy-for-this]

Our little brother pt.4

here it is folks! Finally I’m back and writing for my surprisingly popular au :)

Sorry I took so long to post, but the hiatus is done. I’m pretty stressed at the moment though so fics may take longer than usual..

Now without further ado…

tw~ panic, dehumanization (??), unintentional fearplay, having a crisis

word count~ 1.5k

Wilbur was panicking. Sunshine was gone, and he had no clue how it had happened. He could’ve sworn they were in his pocket the whole time, but somehow the little escape artist had gotten lost…

Techno will be suspicious if he isn’t at the apartment in a few minutes… but how can he go without the small creature? Techno will know he screwed up immediately.

Wilbur continued to search the halls, but with the few people still lingering, it was difficult to not draw attention. He didn’t care much, but he had the feeling that he didn’t want anyone else to see Sunshine… he didn’t know why, but it just felt wrong to reveal them to anyone else.

“C’mon, little guy… where are you?”

He whispered, more to himself than anyone else. They couldn’t have gotten so far… with how tiny Sunshine was, it was hard to believe they could have gotten far or… hopefully not out of the building. The outside was frosty with a chill in the air. Wilbur shuddered at the thought of Sunshine being out there, lost again.

… then Dream walked up to him. 

Now, Wilbur didn’t dislike Dream but… well, he kinda did. Not for any reason in particular, but Wilbur just didn’t like the more extroverted guy. Wilbur was surprised that Dream had come up to him with such purpose until… the color yellow in the corner of his eye. 

It was Sunshine! Right there… in Dream’s hand.

Wilbur gasped slightly as he looked at Sunshine.

“Sunshine! You’re.. you’re alright.”

He said happily and reached out to grab them from Dream. He snatched up his sunshine from the other hold and held them against his chest in a makeshift hug. He didn’t notice the minuscule trembling of the tiny body in his palms.

Wilbur looked at Dream. He wasn’t even thinking in the moment as he glared.

“Dream..”

He greeted the shorter coldly.

Dream had the decency to look slightly sheepish.

“Uh.. hey, Wilbur… sorry about the surprise, but, uh, I found Tommy on his own and heard he was looking for you so…”

Dream tried to explain, but Wilbur stopped listening after that. Tommy? His Sunshine had a name? Had Dream given it to him?

Wilbur looked down at ‘Tommy’ with a confused look. The small thing looked up at him with a wide eyed one. 

Wilbur had never noticed the little shine in his tiny blue eyes before… he looked so human.

Dream was still speaking and Wilbur thought he should tune back in to that. He might be saying something important about.. Tommy.

“-and then he said he was looking for a ‘Wilby’ but I knew he was talking about you. I mean, who else would have that yellow of a hoodie on, right?”

“Says the guy in bright green..”

Wilbur shot back, not appreciating the fashion slander before processing what was just said.

“Wait- said? He.. can speak?”

Dream looked surprised for a moment before raising an eyebrow.

“Uh, yeah? You… knew that, right?”

Wilbur looked at Dream before lying.

“Of course I did! I’m not saying- he just-… yeah..”

Dream looked unconvinced at that stuttered answer, but Wilbur didn’t care. Right now, he just needed to get Tommy home and figure out whatever he just heard. He sighed.

“Look, Dream, you can’t tell anyone about this, okay?”

“…I get that.”

“Good… now I’m gonna take.. Tommy.. home, see you later.”

Wilbur walked away without hearing Dream’s reply… he couldn’t help but feel like the little weight in his hands felt a lot more.. real to him than before.

———————————

Tommy was anxious… more than anxious, terrified even. 

He was back with his previous human captor, back in the hands that took him from his secretive borrower life… 

But now… now he knew. The one thing he had control over, his voice. The human, Wilbur, as Dream has said, knew he could talk now… what would he do? Would Wilbur force him to tell him everything about borrowers? Tell the pink haired human about it? 

Wilbur knew his name now… 

And what could Tommy do about it? Nothing…

He was out… he had escaped; he was gone away from everyone…

He was caught.. twice now. He was a terrible borrower.

Tommy was deep in his self depreciating thoughts when he felt the prodding of a giant finger he started to get familiar with. He was nervous. He looked up at Wilbur and met his gaze. Wilbur was looking down at him, conflicted, before opening his mouth to speak.

“I… I’m gonna put you in my pocket now… alright, Tommy?”

Wilbur spoke his name… gave him a warning before doing something to him…

He kinda liked it…

Tommy nodded slowly and watched as Wilbur still looked shocked at Tommy actually acknowledging his words.

Then Wilbur gently placed his hand into the joined pockets of his hoodie and shielded Tommy with the yellow fabric of the pocket and the human’s hand. It kept everyone else from seeing even a glimpse of Tommy.

———————————

Wilbur walked back to the apartment in a hurry, trying to get there quickly to not seem suspicious about the amount of time he’d been gone. 

He walked through the door and closed it quietly before carefully crossing the living room space, hoping to make it to his room without being seen and lectured. Then there was the deep clearing of a throat and Wilbur winced, turning to face his twin sitting on the couch with his arms crossed, an unimpressed look on his face.

Wilbur immediately put on a smile of mock innocence. 

“Hey, tech, didn’t know you’d be home so quickly today…”

Techno sighed. That wasn’t a good sign.

“Wil, where’s the thing?”

Wilbur felt the minuscule boy tense against his pocketed hand. Yet he pulled him out into the open anyway.

Tommy looked up at him and then to techno with a wide-eyed gaze, an expression that was a cry for help, surrounded by the two humans.

“Relax, tech, Tommy’s right here… see, I’m responsible.”

He acted like he hadn’t lost Tommy after only a few hours…

Techno sat up straighter and leaned closer to see Tommy, a raised eyebrow and a slightly confused expression on his face.

“You named it already?”

Wilbur looked down at Tommy at the same time the little guy looked up at him. They shared the same anxious look of ‘shoot’. Wilbur had a feeling he wouldn’t be able to convince techno of his findings about Tommy without taking a bit to process it himself. So he lied. Again.

“Uh.. yeah! Yeah, I named him Tommy.. he looks like a Tommy, right?”

Techno looked at Tommy for a moment with an unreadable look before nodding in agreement.

“I guess so. Looks like one to me.”

Wilbur let out a breath he didn’t know he was holding. 

“Great.. now, uh.. I’m gonna go to my room.”

Wilbur started tensely walking away before techno stopped him, standing and walking in front of him.

“Aren’t ya gonna put ‘Tommy’ back?”

“Well.. uh.. actually I was gonna let the little guy keep me company for a while…”

Wilbur subconsciously ran his finger down Tommy’s back, not noticing the way Tommy leaned into the touch hesitantly, too focused on acting not suspicious to his very hard-to-lie-to twin.

Techno shrugged and sat back down.

“Alright, but don’t hog the thing. I wanna see it sometime too.”

Wilbur nodded and continued to his bedroom, closing the door a bit too fast for his calm act and walking to his desk. 

He sat in his desk chair, using his one unoccupied hand to shove the sheets of half written music off of his desk. He could clean those up later.

Then he gently set his other hand on the desk, watching intently as Tommy climbed off and took a few scrambling steps away from him nervously.

Tommy looked up at him from the desk in anxiety and confusion.

“Alright… okay, okay, okay… wow..”

Wilbur covered his face with his hands in exasperation with a long sigh before taking a second and looking at Tommy, finally processing everything.

“You… you can.. talk?”

He asked with apprehension.

“Dream said you can talk.. Tommy? You… are you…”

Wilbur didn’t know how to word this the right way…

“You’re sentient?”

——————————

hope you liked this one!

also please tell me if you want to be added to a tag list! (*´∀｀*)

#giant/tiny #g/t community #mcyt g/t #g/t #tiny!tommy #giant!techno #giant!wilbur #our little brother au #<3 #i think this fic is getting good #It’s gettin somewhere

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

Pocket-Sized Sidekick (3)

Part One Part Two

Word Count: 1,829

TW's: Fear, Accidental Fearplay, Violence, Injury, Implications Of Past Abuse, Threats Of Violence, Mentions of Cults, Medical Stuff, Panic

Characters: C!Ranboo, C!Technoblade, C!Dream, C!Philza, C!Wilbur

Summary: Ranboo's officially been de-masked in front of a group of villains. At least that means things can't get any worse...right?

Ranboo drew in a hissing breath between his teeth.

"Would you please sit still? I'm not used to doing stitches on people this small."

That was one of the first things Ranboo learned about Wilbur. He never held anything back. Frankly, it was becoming a challenge for Ranboo to hold back everything he wanted to say in retaliation. He'd been laying there getting stabbed by a needle nearly as tall as him for at least half an hour. Even with the attempt at numbing the area, it felt like an eternity.

"You did stitches on a cat once," the Blood God pointed out. He'd been idly clicking through something on the laptop sitting on the kitchen counter. Ranboo was surprised he'd been paying attention at all given how engrossed he'd seemed it whatever he was reading on that screen.

"You are aware that cats are larger than six inches tall, right?" Wilbur snapped.

"Small is small."

The brunette let out a frustrated huff.

"Phil told you not to bother me."

"He did but he was givin' me those 'don't let Wilbur out of your sight' eyes."

"He was not."

"You just don't notice because he's always got that look."

"Done!" Wilbur announced with a final snip. Ranboo could only assume that meant that was the last bit of thread being cut. Should he be thanking this guy for what he'd done? Sure, he'd tended to his injuries but he was still a villain. Thanking a villain was probably listed on the unspoken rules of being a hero right between being kidnapped by a villain and showing your face to a villain.

He slowly pushed himself to sit upright. His bruises still stung like crazy but at least the majority of his fractures had been dealt with and cuts bandaged. Wilbur never really shared his assessment of Ranboo's injuries but from the repetitive "Yeesh" 's from the villain, he could only imagine there was a lot of work to be done.

Wilbur scooped his jacket up off the back of the couch.

"Where are you going?" the Blood God demanded.

The brunette threw a guitar case over his shoulder.

"Out," he announced vaguely.

"Aren't you supposed to be looking after the kid?"

Wilbur rummaged through the cubbies next to the door until he uncovered a pair of keys from the clutter.

"Phil told me to clean him up. He's about as good as he's going to get so I'm out of here." Wilbur paused on the way out to shoot the Blood God a look over his shoulder. A coy smile tugged on his lips. "Don't worry, I'm sure you'll be fine until Phil comes back. You're great with kids."

Wilbur managed to yank the door shut behind him just as a dagger lodged itself in the wood where his head was only seconds ago. The brunette's laughter retreated into the night, making way for a tense silence to fall over the house. Ranboo's teeth ground together.

He dared to sneak a peek at the villain sitting only a single room over. It was odd. Ranboo knew that Corvus was a supervillain but he walked around out of costume in his own house. That made sense. Wilbur was a villain by association at the very least but if he worked in the field, he probably had a costume too. Not once had he donned in it while Ranboo was there.

The Blood God, on the other hand, had yet to change out of that signature uniform of his. The cape, the skull, the gaudy boots. The whole package was admittedly a bit too extra to be typical loungewear. If it was all for the sake of ensuring Ranboo was kept on edge then, damn, it was working.

The boar's skull snapped in Ranboo's direction. The abrupt motion caused an instinctual reaction in the sidekick, sending him scrambling to focus on literally anything else in the room. The villain sighed.

"So why's Hero Corps exploiting child labor? Indoctrinating adults into their little cape cult get too pricey?" he asked.

Nothing about that question was accurate but it wasn't like Ranboo was in any position to correct him. He wasn't sure he was in a position to say anything, honestly. So he didn't.

"What, did that one hypno-hero hit you with a tongue tying spell or somethin'? What's he like? Fun at parties?"

The beats of silence passed at an agonizingly slow pace for both parties trapped within the tense atmosphere. The Blood God groaned.

"Come on, kid, give me somethin' here," he practically begged.

Ranboo shifted uncomfortably. There was nothing he could say that he wouldn't be reprimanded for when he got back to HQ. If he got back to HQ. As scary a prospect as that was, the fact that he was more likely to never get home was even scarier.

"W-why the skull mask?" Ranboo tried. Maybe if he couldn't answer questions, asking them would help pass the time a bit quicker for the both of them.

"What, this?" The Blood God asked, drumming his fingernails against hollow bone. Ranboo nodded meekly. The villain's insouciant demeanor went dismal all at once. "It's not a mask. It's just my face."

The sidekick's blood ran ice cold. He couldn't even hide his mortified expression when he turned back to the man in the kitchen. What? How was that even possible? Sure, people got bizarre mutations when super powers started popping up but this had to be one of the strangest ones that Ranboo had ever seen. Not even the attributes of a bore, just its skull where your head should have been? It made his stomach churn thinking about how that worked.

The Blood God snorted.

"I'm messing with you," he chuckled.

He was...oh. The sidekick's shoulders sagged. As indignant as Ranboo was to be toyed with, he had to admit that it was a relief knowing it was all a farce. He hadn't even realized his jaw had dropped open until he shut it with a click. He couldn't help but laugh, though his was more incredulous than a product of the Blood God's sense of humor-if you could even call it that.

"Just thought it was a cool gimmick, I guess. Didn't wanna look like every other loser in a mask and a cape. What about you? They force you to wear that fashion faux-pax of a suit or are you just really into gray?"

"It's a uniform," Ranboo said. He couldn't think of a single sinister thing that the guy could do with that sort of information beyond mocking him a little further.

"Of course it is. Is that where you get your shrinking power from, too?"

Ranboo stiffened. Momentary distraction over. The villain really was just trying to pry info out of him. Of course he was. That was literally his job. He wasn't really as mad at the guy for nearly getting him to give up some top secret Hero Corps info as much as he was at himself for almost doing it.

The way the color drained from Ranboo's face must have given away the answer to that intrusive question all the same.

"Don't mean to sound like a jackass but you don't really handle yourself like a hero who's used to being small. I mean, I did see you get punted across an alleyway so..."

Ranboo fought to keep his expression flat. Maybe that was the reason all those heroes wore masks; to hide just how scared the poor bastards behind them were. Ranboo wished more than anything that his helmet wasn't cracked to pieces so he could shove it back on and leave it there.

"If it's broken, we can try to fix it," the Blood God pointed out.

"No! You can't touch it!" Ranboo blurted, grabbing the suit from beside him and holding it in a white-knuckled grip. The last thing he needed was to hand over some of Hero Corps' most advanced tech to their most dangerous competition.

It took far too long for Ranboo to actually realize what he'd done. When it dawned on him, it hit him like a brick to the teeth. His heart stuttered in his chest. Maybe yelling at his villainous captor wasn't really the smartest idea. He knew what happened when he raised his voice. One of the first lessons he'd learned under Dream's guidance. And that was when he was a fairly normal height.

Standing only a few inches tall in front of someone with far worse intentions than his mentor's, he didn't stand a chance of making it out alive.

"Geez, alright. I was just offerin'," the villain muttered. "Figured this whole thing might be a little easier if you weren't six inches tall."

Sure, like Ranboo was going to believe that this guy had nothing but good intentions towards the hero's sidekick he had in his possession. Then again, he wasn't wrong about his height putting him at a stark disadvantage. At six inches tall, the Blood God could probably just pry the suit out of his hands. As a matter of fact, Ranboo couldn't wrap his head around why he had yet to try.

"Hey, are you-"

Vvv Vvv

Saved by the buzz. Whatever question the Blood God was about to ask was swiftly interrupted by the vibration against the counter. He grabbed his phone. He went tense when he saw the screen. Without a word, he rose to his feet and slid the window behind him open.

He double checked the laces on his boots and the sword sheathed on his hip. Ranboo flinched at the squawk from just beyond the house. Wings beat at the air, a crow dipping in straight through the open window to land on the counter.

"Lead the way," the Blood God instructed.

The black bird tilted its head, turning over its shoulder to stare straight at Ranboo. A chill crawled up his spine at the extra attention.

"Oh, right. You-uh-you stay here," the villain commanded with all the conviction of a man who'd never held a leadership position. "I gotta go help Phil but I'll be back real soon."

Ranboo could only nod in reply. The villain dawdled. He stared at Ranboo a while longer, the sidekick doing his best not to meet the supervillain's sweeping gaze.

"'kay. Let's go," he tried again. The bird let out an ear-shattering squawk before claiming its perch atop the Blood God's shoulder. He slid out the door, ensuring that he clicked the lock into place on his way out.

The hero-in-training swallowed thickly. The silence was even more deafening than before. This certainly wasn't on his bucket list. He was all alone in a supervillain's hideout.

His eyes darted about the vacant space, snagging on the window over the sink. Wait. He was all alone in a supervillain's hideout. The curtains waved in the breeze, beckoning him forward. He'd be a fool not to answer that call.

~

College is kicking my butt so upload schedule is insanely chaotic but thank you to everyone who waited for this next part! :)

#mcyt g/t #g/t #g/t writing #giant/tiny #mcyt #unintentional fearplay #g/t angst #angst with a happy ending #accidental fearplay #giant!techno #giant!wilbur #tiny!ranboo #superhero au

[guppybubbles]

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

(A/N: Kind of a sequel to my other fic, ROLL ME A 6 ! :> You don't need to read that though to understand this!)

Borrower Tommy accidentally shifts into a universe where his homebrew DND world is real. He still sucks at being a giant.

WORD COUNT: 1,341 words

WARNINGS: None.

"Tommy opened his eyes and what he saw was unlike anything he's seen before…"

Tommy listened in anticipation. What could it be? A new friend, a new foe? He looked at his dad, a smug little smile barely hidden by his serious storytelling.

 

"And we'll find that out in the next session."

Halfway through his sentence, he and his brothers already knew it was the end of their game for the day. All groaning and complaining about Phil leaving it in such a dumb cliffhanger, Phil only laughed. 

It couldn't have been hours already, had it? They barely started! He still had to redeem himself and his character into great glory! "No, come on, let's do one more hour— please, please?" He begged, holding onto one of Phil's fingers like he had all the power to hold him down and force him into another round. 

With his other hand, Phil picked up the die and tossed it into the container— folding up the map before putting it back in the box. Tommy knew it was over, they'd start another session again sooner or later. 

But he wanted to do another hour, or maybe two more, now. "Pleasee, I rolled so low every turn, I need to redeem myself!" 

"I wish we could continue, mate." Phil smiled, "But I got work tomorrow and it's already…" He stared at the clock, making a surprised sound at the 11:48 PM on the wall. Phil cursed under his breath, gently, slowly pulling his hand away from Tommy’s hold. "Alright, get to bed you three." 

The blond borrower knew there was no convincing Dad anymore. He crossed his arms with a humph, upset with his bad luck during the game. "Cheer up, Toms! I'm sure luck will make you do justice next time." Wilbur consoled, pushing his chair into the table and picking up the box with their fantasy map and die. 

“You are horrible at throwing the die for me,” Tommy grumbled, narrowing his eyes at his older brother who had offered to throw the dice for him earlier. Wilbur’s luck when it came to the game was pretty good, yet whenever he tossed the die for Tommy, the luck seemed to plummet- doing worse than when the borrower himself threw the die. 

In the corner of his eyes, he could see Wilbur’s lips press into a thin line. He was stopping himself from being amused at Tommy’s anger. “It really wasn’t on purpose.” 

“Yeah, I know,” Tommy replied. Not upset at Wilbur, nor was he upset at the game. He swears he would be able to throw the dice better if he was just… more human-sized. 

“You’ll do better next game, I’ll make sure of it,” Wilbur promises.

Tommy looks at him incredulously, slightly laughing. “What, are we gonna cheat or something?”

In response, Wilbur shrugged, a playful smile tugging at his lips. “Dunno, maybe.”

Holding the game board, he placed his other hand on the desk. A trust exercise that slowly grew into a habit none of them thought was strange anymore, Tommy hopped on the hand and held onto the fingers for support. He used to have to walk from place to place, no matter how far it was because the big man was too stubborn to accept and ask for help. In response, they all worked together to install little stairs everywhere so Tommy would at least be able to reach things without having to heave himself up with a rope and a hook. He almost cried in front of them because of how much he appreciated the gesture. 

That night, Tommy lay in his bed, uncharacteristically quiet as he stared at the ceiling. His room looked so much like a human's room- constructed by his family after nearly a year of accidentally revealing himself to them. It wasn’t exactly like him to be upset for the dice throws during the game, it really wasn’t Wilbur’s fault. On a good day, he throws exceptionally well for Tommy’s character too. 

But Tommy isn’t upset about the dice, is he?

It was never the dice, never Wilbur, never his family, but him. 

If he was truly meant to be their family, then couldn’t the universe make him human? Did he seriously have to be something that was never allowed to mingle with larger beings? It was a written code since the beginning of time that borrowers were never allowed to be with humans. Never share anything, what you are, what your name was. Most importantly, never be seen. 

Were they never supposed to be a family then? Did he have to break the borrower’s code just to be a part of something he’s not supposed to? He’s not a borrower anymore, he knows that. He barely even follows the code anymore, but he’s not human either. Too exposed to be a borrower, too small to be a human.

Then what was he?

Tommy released a loud, exasperated sigh. His calloused hands rubbed over his face. He knows he shouldn’t think about such things, but lately, he’s been more aware than ever. He notices how Techno looms over him when they do woodwork together, Wilbur’s singing voice goes from soothing to too loud, and Phil barely gives him any chores (Maybe he shouldn’t complain about that one, actually).

They don’t mean it, of course, they didn’t. They probably don’t even notice it as well. Something so small and insignificant to them could be so overwhelming for him. He just wants to be bigger, to fit in… 

He should go to sleep. He'll forget about it tomorrow and everything will continue on like it usually does (until the nagging feeling returns and he feels like he's rotting in bed).

Goodnight, me. Tommy closed his eyes, unable to rid of the heavy weight in his chest. 

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

If Tommy could recall this correctly— and while he may not have the best memory, he can certainly tell when something is just plain wrong… He fell asleep on his bed, right?

His eyes blurred as he gained consciousness and though he wasn't aware of where he was— he could sense danger even from a mile away. His shoulders ached, raised high above him. Something was holding his arms upwards. Cold, tight metal gripping his wrists, uncomfortably pressing into his skin. He tried tugging it downwards, but it barely moved. 

Instead of lying on a soft, warm bed, it felt like he'd been kneeling for Prime knows how long. His legs felt numb, ringing uncomfortably no matter how much he tried to move. It didn't matter because he was stuck in place. 

It was hot. Sweat was dripping from his forehead to his nose and down to either his clothes or the floor (he made a mental note that he wasn’t wearing his pajamas). 

He sucked in a deep breath, humid air filling his lungs in a way that didn't calm him down, but just made him panic more. 

Tommy's vision began clearing up and despite the little ache in his neck, he decided to look around. The room was dimly lit, weak artificial lighting barely reflecting the big, metal room he resided in. 

There were mini stairs and platforms built around him. The platforms in front of him connected through the middle and had a door on each side of the wall. Above the platform in the wall in front of him was glass, he couldn't make out anything inside, it was darker than the room he was in.

The metal room he sat in was quite spacey. The ceiling was quite high but he couldn't stand up even if he attempted to— his ankles were chained as well, shorter in length compared to the ones around his wrist. Tommy struggled against the chains, everything looked so.. small yet so oddly detailed. 

Where was he? Who were these stairs for? Were there more beings smaller than a borrower? Prime, how would they even look next to a human?

Does his family know where he is right now..?

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

yayaya thank you sm for reading! & holy shit guppy writing fics comeback??? no way!!!

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

[i-am-beckyu]

Just out of Reach, but Never out of sight

HIIIIIII! I DID IT! I HAVE WRITTEN AN AU :000

Okay okay okay! This is gonna be my first ever multi chapter story so fingers crossed I actually keep up with this but I really hope you guys love it as much as I do! Thank you to @a-xyz-s for proof reading <3

Chapter 1

chapter 2 , chapter 3,

cw: abandonment (its touched on but nothing major I think), general fear, panic and anxiety (ya know standard terrified borrower), fear of death, word count: 2611

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.

Alone. That seemed to be a common thing for the Great Tommyinnit. He was abandoned as a child when the colony found him, rejected by his peers when he lived there and now outcasted. So as stated before: alone. He knew why no one wanted him around, but it didn’t mean it didn’t sting any less. From the moment he was brought to the colony, he was always told there was something wrong with him. For one, he's a lot smaller than all the other borrowers and is the opposite of quiet, stealthy, and ya know: good at borrowing. But he tries his best to please everyone anyways.

A borrower is quiet; never heard and never seen and well, Tommys’ always had quite the larger than life personality. He practices to be a good borrower, helping out where possible, doing all the right things. But still, no one wants him around and more often than not shun him. He never knew his parents so he didn’t know what that ‘thing’ that made him different could be, just that whatever it was meant no one wanted him around. He tried to be a good Borrower, he really did, but more often than not, found himself surrounded by disaster. “You’re too little.” “Not strong enough.”,  “Annoying little shit”, “Wrong”, “Useless Child”, “A mistake”; things the colony told him every day despite everyone avoiding him at all costs. He was an orphan anyways so why should he hope that would change anything?

It never really surprised him that when he turned what they thought was 13, (since no one knew how old he actually was) he was given a hook, a bag and told to get lost. So Tommy did as told and left. He wandered the underground tunnels from the colony for a long time before coming upon a human town. That was 3 years ago, and since then, he has been through 7 different homes. All different reasons. 2 were infested with rats, 1 had young children that were just too risky to live with, another 3 had cats that always knew how to find him (stupid felines and they’re stupid good noses) and the last one had another borrower family living in it, and just like the borrower’s at the colony, told him to get out. That one had been the worst. Not only had it been the first interaction Tommy had had with anyone in years, it was also just another blow to remind him that no one wanted him. Which led to now. He’d been traveling for weeks looking for his forever home. He was sick and tired of having to pack up and leave after just settling. He didn’t care how long it would take, Tommy would find the perfect house and stay. Nothing was going to stop the Great Tommyinnit! He’s a big man, not some scrawny pipsqueak like everyone says. He’ll show the colony. He’d make it and be the best borrower ever!

Finally, after scouting the 5th house that week, Tommy found it. This house was inhabited by 3 Beans. The Crafts: as Tommy discovered from his reconnaissance. There was Phil, a tall Bean with blonde hair similar to his own and his two sons Wilbur and Technoblade. From the bit of bickering he’d heard from the two Beans, apparently they were twins, but Tommy found that hard to believe when Wilbur had soft looking curly brown hair, and Techno’s (as his family called him) was bright pink! Now how Techno was born with pink hair he didn’t know, but surely anyone with hair that was pink had to be a Wrong-in. The family were quite the rowdy bunch and while normally 3 humans such as these would be a no go house, but Tommy was drawn to them. It wasn’t the familial love he could feel radiating off the 3 or anything that drew him in. Nope! It was strictly that the walls were pest free, cat free and that all 3 Beans ticked all the boxes for simple borrowing. Definitely no other reasons. It had taken some time, but soon Tommy was set up within the Crafts walls. He’d chosen to settle near Wilbur’s room. Out of the 3 Beans, he was the messiest and easiest to borrow from without items being noticed as missing. He’d managed to borrow a really nice shiny red plastic thingy called a guitar pic for a crawl through door because of that, but also because Wilbur did something that very few Borrowers got to experience. He played music. Playing music was such a rarity in Borrower society. Too loud and too much risk of being caught, but here Tommy could listen as much as he liked. He didn’t know any of the songs Wilbur played, but he loved them all. Especially the ones when Wilbur used what was called a guitar. The man’s voice was just so soothing and often Tommy found himself falling asleep to the melodies. When he wasn’t listening to Wilbur, sometimes Tommy would be in Technos’ room. It was risky as Techno was the most observant of the 3 Beans Tommy had come to find out when he had been setting up his room. He had wanted the knife bit of this thing called ‘utility knife’ and almost had it if not for the man coming back and immediately coming over to inspect it as if he knew it had been touched. That had been a terrifying experience, but Tommy liked the man’s quiet demeanor. There was a spot on the bookshelf that Tommy could perch on and was able to read along with the books that Techno read whilst remaining hidden. It was hard at times with the font so small and looking down from up on the shelf, but when the books had pictures, Tommy would just stare for hours at a time or until Techno finished the book. And of course then there was Phil. Phil never did anything too over the top. Most of the time, he was just doing paperwork, but the man was kind and often Tommy would just hang out in his office while he worked on fixing equipment, enjoying the comfortable one sided silence. 

Yep the Crafts were perfect and Tommy loved that he had found a good house. But it still wasn’t quite right. He tried not to, but he envied what the Crafts had. They were a family. They ate together, watched movies together, went out together. They had each other for comfort and Tommy? Tommy had them from a distance. He could only watch. No matter how much he wanted to be a part of their family, it was impossible. Not only that, it was also terrifying. They were HUGE! Tommy had seen Beans before, most around Phil’s height, but Wilbur and Techno? Tommy was sure they were giants among Beans! No matter how badly he wanted to be a part of what they had, the overshadowing fear of what they could do to him if found outweighed his wants. It would be all too easy to squish his insignificant life out of existence. They could grab him, squeeze him, hurt him, experiment on him, make him a pet; the list goes on and on. And that’s just not a risk he’s willing to take. Even if he remained alone forever, at least he was alive…

~~~

It was supposed to be a routine borrowing trip. Tommy often borrowed during the night time hours of the early mornings to avoid the 3 Beans. They never seemed to go to sleep at a good time and someone was almost always at home during the day, but he managed. Tommy had just finished up a supply run to the kitchen when he spotted it. It shouldn’t have interested him as much as it did but on the counter was a brown and white looking stuffed animal keychain. A cow he vaguely thinks back to when he had been in a child’s nursery whilst scouting for a good house. The cow keychain was about an inch in size. The perfect size to cuddle with for a borrower such as himself. And it was right there. All he had to do was run straight across the counter, un-attach it from the keys and take it home. It wouldn’t take long… So leaving his previous borrowings of the trip from before and two hooks behind the safety of an electrical socket, Tommy crept out and over to the cow keychain. It was sticking out slightly from a bag lying on the counter filled with paperwork and many pockets, but Tommy paid it little mind as he set to work getting the cow. He had just about worked the plush off the chain when he heard it. The sound of a door creaking open as thundering footsteps began to make their way down the hall. No no no no. Not now! He almost had it off the chain! In a last chance effort, Tommy tugged at the cow to come loose. Thump, Thump, thump, the sound of footsteps getting closer. F***, F***, F***! Giving up on his prize, Tommy dove into an open pocket of the bag and shuffled his way inside. The sound of a light switch could be heard flicking on, as light flooded the opening of the bag. Tommy stayed deathly still. He couldn’t be caught, he just couldn’t! He heard a few more things turned on and moved about as the Bean began to get ready for the day. Phil, Tommys mind supplied with how the man sometimes had an early shift start. He didn’t know how long he stayed frozen for before the world suddenly lurched upwards, and he was flung to the bottom of the bag. He gripped on tightly to the pockets fabric as Phil began to walk, his eyes scrunched firmly shut. They walked for ages to what Tommy assumed was Phil’s work before the bag was eventually set down again, whilst Phil began his work shift. He didn’t know how long he was in the bag for, but it was a nightmare. If he didnt find a better place to hide soon, Phil would find him. But Tommy couldn’t will himself to leave the bag either. He was in the Beans world now and if he left, he may not make it back to the house! No, the best option was to try and blend in with the fabric and pray that Phil would finish work soon so he could get back in the walls. But there was a slight issue with that. At the bottom of the bag was a hole. Not a hole big enough to lose anything large like a phone, but big enough that if not careful, Tommy could slip through. Every time the bag was moved, Tommy gripped on for dear life. If he let go, he’d fall through. It was a miracle he hadn’t fallen out on the trip there in the first place.

Finally, after what felt like lifetimes, Tommy heard Phil packing up for the day to head home. It was a miracle that he never seemed to need anything in the pocket Tommy was in. Maybe the Bean knew about the hole? The bag was suddenly opened once more and Tommy gripped the fabric tightly as his world was thrown about once again, and then just as quickly the bag was closed as Phil began to make the journey home. Just like the trip there, the walk back was an antagonizing long one. Tommy was sure his arms were just about to fall off from how tightly he had been clinging to the fabric, but he couldn’t let go. Surely it couldn’t be much further and he’d be able to escape back to the walls? But luck was not on Tommy’s side. His arms were burning from how long he’d had to use them for and he was exhausted. He wanted to curl up and fall asleep, adrenaline from his initial panic leaving him tired. His eyes felt heavy and slowly he found himself releasing his grip on the fabric, as his eyes fluttered open and close battling to stay awake. Suddenly, Tommy felt himself slipping down towards the hole. As his legs began slipping through the hole of the bag, he shocked himself awake as he tried to grasp back onto the fabric. At the last second, he clasped onto the few loose threads of fabric that he could reach, effectively managing to stop himself from plummeting to the ground below. Tommy’s eyes shot around wildly at his surroundings. He was in the open. Dangling out of the bag. Holding on for dear life. Desperate to get back inside, he tried to start climbing back inside. But without his hooks for climbing like normal, it was extremely difficult. Especially with the world constantly moving. He gripped the fabric’s edge like a lifeline, desperate to stay on, but his weight on the already frayed edges was not strong enough to support his weight and began to unravel further. It wasn’t long before the edges had frayed enough that Tommy was now dangling by a few single threads. Please! Just hold on a little longer! We’ve got to almost be there! Just a little more! Don’t break! Tommy pleaded internally. As if his thoughts had summoned it, the thread snapped, and Tommy was hurtling down towards the pavement. He landed roughly but was otherwise okay. He’d have a few bruises but that was the least of his worries. He snapped his head up, eyes searching desperately for the Bean. “No.” Tommy let out in disbelief. “No, no, no!” The borrower gathered himself up and started sprinting. Adrenaline coursed through him, panic and fear driving him as he raced after Phil who was getting further and further away. If he lost sight of Phil, he’d never get back home! He couldn’t lose him! If he did, he’d never see him or Wilbur or Techno ever again! Even if they didn’t know of his existence, even if he’d only watched them from afar, Tommy just couldn’t lose the life he’d built for himself! They were the closest thing he’d had to a family bond in his entire life!!! He ran after the Bean, not caring for being out in the open as his own thoughts plagued his mind. He screwed everything up back in the colony for being small, being weak. If only he was faster, stronger, bigger! Yes, that's it! If he was bigger he wouldn’t have slipped out of the bag! He’d be able to catch up! He wouldn’t have been seen as different, wouldn’t have been alone! If he was just bigger, he could catch up he could- Suddenly, Tommy slammed harshly into something causing him to back peddle and fall to the ground. He’d been so focused on keeping up with the Bean, he hadn’t been watching where he’d been going. Tommy touched his head and let out a groan of pain from the impact. “Are you alright mate?” Tommy snapped his head up to the familiar voice, eyes blowing wide at the sight before him. Phil was looking directly at him, a concerned look on his face. But that’s not what Tommy was shocked at. Oh no. Because instead of a giant Phil looming over him like he should be, he was eye level with the Bean crouched down before him. Tommy looked around wildly at his surroundings that had magically shrunk and then at himself; realization hitting him like a bullet train. The world hadn’t shrunk. He’d grown.

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

AHHHHHHH I HOPE YOU ENJOYED!! This chapter was more of to establish the world building for Tommy’s life. Please if you have any questions about the au, hit me in my ask box!!! I can not wait to get the next part out!!!

#Just out of reach but never out of sight au #my fic #mcyt gt #mcyt g/t #tiny!tommy #borrower!tommy #sizeshifter!tommy #giant!phil #giant!wilbur #giant!techno #giant!sbi #gt #g/t #giant tiny #gt writing #g/t writing #mcyt g/t community #mcyt gt community #beckyu writes #beckyu but on ao3

[cyncerity]

alien terrarium au!!

here it is! i said it’d be today, so it’s done! 1 min before it becomes tomorrow!

minor thing, tho: this is extremely unedited. like, there are a lot of things i post that aren’t edited fully, but i didn’t even fully read this one in one sitting. but i’m not free again until this tuesday or wednesday, so i’m not gonna make you guys wait that long lol

basically it’s midnight and i’m way too fucking busy so i’m gonna post it and edit it when i have time to later in the week. if you wanna wait for the fully edited version, ignore this until i specify that I edited it. if you don’t care, i hope you enjoy! this has been an on again off again thing for a few weeks and i’m so glad to finally have it like 95% done :)

tw: soft safe vore, unconventional vore ig?

“We have to cut our losses here. We don’t have enough to fund this any longer, and there’s no one we can reach out to for more money. We can’t risk this getting out.” “Fine, I- I know, it’s just…this is a breakthrough. We can’t afford to give up now.” “We won’t. We just need some time to get back on our feet is all. Besides, he knows what to do now…” the scientists turned their heads to the one way mirror they stood behind. A little boy, barely a teenager, sat behind it on his bed, his eyes glassy and unblinking, turned a glossy pearlescent white. Their project, practically their life’s work. Well, the container for it, anyway.

***

Wilbur heard the three scientists come into the room, and somehow registered one of them motion vaguely with their hand despite his eyes being effectively turned off, which meant they wanted him back in their world. Ugh. Still, he cut off his thoughts with his practically other half, eyes beginning to function again and the scientists approaching him as they saw his eyes shift back to the colors they were supposed to be.

“Wilbur, what we’re going to tell you is very, very important, so you have to listen carefully. It’s your life at stake if this goes wrong. And his.” The one in blue said, gesturing to Wilbur’s torso. Well, that was certainly a way to get his attention. Wilbur didn’t say a word, though; the green one didn’t like it when he ‘sassed them,’ so he instead scooted back and placed both arms protectively around himself and his…what did they call him once, ‘cargo’? He was sure he heard Green call him a ‘parasite’ once, which was rude. Still, they must have noticed his panic, cause the orange one responded immediately. “It’ll all be ok, things will just have to change for a minute here. You’re…youre not going to be able to stay here for a while.” “What?!” Wilbur said, unable to restrain himself. The green one went to speak up but was silenced by blue, who just whispered something about him being ‘scared’ and how this was ‘probably a lot to handle.’ Yeah, no shit it was!

“I get this is a huge change, I do, but it’s necessary for now. We don’t have the necessary resources to keep taking care of you here. We need to find a way to keep you safe and healthy, both of you. You’ll be staying somewhere secure while we find somewhere more reclusive to hide you. We don’t want anyone finding out anything and putting the two of you in danger.” Orange said, sitting next to Wilbur and rubbing a thumb across his knuckles. Right. Right, he had a purpose. And if part of his purpose was to survive without his caretakers for a short while, he could do it. If it meant safety for his stowaway, he could do it.

“You doin ok, bud?” Orange asked, and Wilbur nodded slightly. Orange was his favorite of the main three. He was always nice, and even gave him extra treats when he was behaving! “When do you think you can be ready to leave, Wil?” Green asked, crouching to be at level with where he sat. “Whenever you need me to be, sir.” Green smiled and ruffled his hair. Wil always tried to be extra good for Green. It’s not like he didn’t like him, it’s just that Green was more likely to yell at him if he messed up. “Good kid. We’ll leave tomorrow morning and introduce you to who you’ll be staying with. Try to get some rest.” He said, smiling before leaving and leading the other two out with him.

***

“Sam! Hey buddy!” Dream said, jumping out of the side of his van and running over to his old friend. “Dream! How’ve you been?” “Pretty good, you?” “Doin pretty good myself.” Sam replied, pulling Dream in for a hug. “So, who’s this kid you found?” “Calls himself Wilbur. We found him a few months ago, but we’re a bit short on money right now and can’t handle another mouth to feed. He won’t stay here for long, promise, just till we find a more stable income.” Dream hated to lie to an old friend, but he couldn’t afford his secret to be leaked. “I’m always lookin to help out, especially for a friend. Anything I need to know about him?”

“Yeah, he’s a bit of an odd one, but that’s what we love about him.” Dream chuckled, hoping his friend was still oblivious. “He disassociates a lot. Like, constantly, and tends to get really upset if people try to mess with him when he’s like that. He also doesn’t do a lot of physical activity. Bruises take longer to heal for him, he gets sore easily, and his immune system doesn’t handle cuts well. He’s not very talkative, and he’s got some weird scars all over him. We think the two are connected, but we don’t know what this kid has been through.” Dream finished, and Sam nodded solemnly. Great, he was taking the bait. He was less likely to ask questions if he thought he was prying into the past of an abused child.

meanwhile, in the van…

“We found you abandoned. You’re just staying here until we get more stable jobs and can afford to feed you again. If he ever asks you about where you came from, you look away or change the subject as quickly as possible. You don’t know why you disassociate. You don’t know where the scars came from. Never do any of your caretaker necessities for him in front of Sam. He can’t know. Got it?” “Got it. He’ll never know.” Blue nodded back. Orange had just kind of been pacing in the van as Blue gave him the rundown again. Green came back to the van with a hand out towards Wilbur, giving him a reassuring smile.

Wilbur was about to take the hand before his arm got tugged and he was pulled into a hug from behind. A gentle one, obviously no one wanted to risk damaging what was inside of him, but a hug all the same. He didn’t get many of those. When the person pulled away he saw it was Orange, who was smiling proudly. “You’re gonna be fine kid. We believe in you. I’ll miss you, ok?” Wilbur just smiled back and nodded. “I’ll miss you, too. We both will.” He said before taking Dreams hand and walking outside with him.

***

It had been an…odd week with Wilbur in Sam’s opinion. Firstly, he’d been way more interested in things like trees and grass than any normal child would be, but refused to touch them. He also spent 95% of his time in the guest bedroom with the door locked, never making a sound. Who knows, maybe the kid just liked to sleep. He refused to play any sort of physical game, like Dream had warned him, but he seemed overly cautious of anything that could hurt him. But he wouldn’t pry, that wasn’t his job. His job was to take care of the kid until Dream, George, and Sapnap could take him back. Right?

That’s what he was supposed to do, but somehow, against all logic…he knew this kid. The giant brown eyes, the curly brown hair, his face shape, it was all so familiar. But why?

Until it hit him.

He’d woken up in a cold sweat, immediately racing to his computer to see if he was right. And his suspicions were confirmed, against all odds. There, on his friends facebook page, was a photo of him and his young son. His young son who was Wilbur’s age. His young son who used to have an identical twin brother who went missing when he was just a few years old.

Sam knew Wilbur’s face because Wil wasn’t the only person he knew with that face.

Sam wasted no time calling. He must’ve called 12 times before someone answered, which was fair given the ungodly hour, but this was urgent. “What the fuck, Sam…” and groggy voice answered. “Mate, it’s, like, 4 in the morning, what could possibly be this important-”

“Phil, I think I found your son.”

***

Breakfast was different the next morning. Wilbur walked downstairs only to see two strangers sitting at Sam’s table, one an adult and one a child around his age. The adult looked about as old as Sam, which was to say a bit older than his scientists. He had blonde hair and kind blue eyes, and was wearing a dark green sweater jacket over a white button up. The other had long pick hair pulled back into a loose messy braid and glasses almost reminding Wil of his own except square instead of circular. He wore a simple pink hoodie and dirtied jeans and surprisingly clean white sneakers, but he must have been staring, cause soon the kid looked over to him and-

Wilbur’s breath froze.

Why…why did this kid have his face?

At this point, the man had looked over to, and immediately shot up from where he was sitting, knocking over the chair he was sitting on in the process and making Wilbur flinch. “Orpheus?” Wilbur stared blankly for a few moments before the man rushed him, barely giving him time to react before he was pulled into a hug.

Not a gentle one like Orange knew to give. Not one given by someone that knew why so few people were even allowed to touch him. A lung crushing, tight hug that was unbelievably painful after so much time with such infrequent gentle touching. He rarely found his mind drifting back to his the feeling of cargo in him, given that he’d lived most of his life with him and had gotten used to the odd sensations, but now it was impossible to ignore. Everything in him, everything that had been worked on so diligently, everything that had been removed and replaced and rearranged to make him perfect for his purpose, and his stowaway inside were being crushed. His purpose, the thing he’d been raised to protect, his only true constant in his life, was being crushed. It was the most horrifying downpour of fear he’d ever felt.

Wilbur screamed.

He screamed bloody murder as the adult let go and backed away, eyes wide. Wilbur vaguely noticed that both the strangers were crying, but he didn’t care. Wilbur only stopped screaming once his air was gone and now replaced by jagged breathing and spasms in his lungs. He felt like he was about to collapse as his vision darkened and his limbs began shaking. He needed to know if he was ok. If he wasn’t, Wilbur would never forgive himself. He needed to know.

“Kiddo, I need you to take deep breaths, ok, I think you’re having a panic a-“ “Stay the hell away from me! All of you!!” Wilbur screamed, voice hoarse as he smacked Sam’s hand away and ran up to his guest room and locked the door. He sat on the bed with a thud and tried to stop his shaking, but couldn’t spare much time for that since he had to make sure his cargo was still ok. He needed him to be ok. God, he was still just a kid, even younger than Wilbur. He can’t have let him get hurt.

He tried to take deep breaths and reached his mind out to some foreign instinct he knew. He wasn’t sure what it was, or how it came so easily, but it was such a central part of his brain that he could find it with ease. The second he got close to it, his whole body relaxed involuntarily. He hadn’t done that, which only meant…

“Oh, Tommy, thank god.” Wilbur sighed out loud, though the rest was said just to Tommy in the special way only they could communicate. He felt Tommy slow his heart rate more as he felt like he was being sucked away from his body into a void that words couldn’t possibly describe. “Wilbur!” a voiced called out. It hadn’t come from anywhere, just everywhere, like Wilbur’s did when he was here. Wherever ‘here’ was. He didn’t really know. It wasn’t like a darkness or white area, it was just…nothing. Not a nothingness that couldn’t be seen, but felt. Devoid of anything that could make it describable. Wilbur liked to joke that it was the emptiness in Tommy’s brain. “What was all that outside? You know i’ve got se-“ “Sensitive hearing, I know. I was being loud. Sorry.”

Wilbur could basically see Tommy huff and roll his eyes, despite the fact that he’d never seen Tommy at all. He knew every detail of his little brother friend, and Tommy knew every detail of Wilbur. Despite neither of them being able to see in their respective nothings, somehow they could sense every “move” (aka the movement they imagined themselves making since they didn’t have bodies in the nothingness) the other made in the void. Also Tommy can sometimes see through Wil’s eyes to look at reflections, but he rarely does that. Green doesn’t like when he does that.

Still though, he knew Tommy. He may not know what he looks like perfectly, but he knew Tommy. In an odd sense, he knew his details, but never what he truly looked like. He could list the facts of how Tommy was, but he had a feeling of deja vu whenever he tried to imagine a face or any detailed image of his body. He never could, he just knew the facts, like he’d seen Tommy but the detailed image in his brain had been removed and blurred beyond recognition. It seemed kind of unfair to him, given that Tommy knew exactly what he looked like because of the shared vision things and mirrors existing.

Still, though, he knew the pale white-blue of his skin the bright blonde of his hair and otherworldly accents. The shining, almost glowing iridescence of his eyes and the strange markings found on his body. He was mostly humanoid, which had initially shocked Wilbur and the scientists. Orange had warned him once that since they had no idea what Tommy was, something inhuman and vicious could easily rip through him. It scared him a little, but at that point he’d seen Tommy’s egg once and had grown monumentally attached, lethal beast creature or not. But Tommy was humanoid, except for one thing; he didn’t have legs. Rather, he had a long predominately red scaly tail like a snake.

When Wilbur was first getting used to Tommy’s being in there, the hardest thing to deal with was one: the odd feeling of scales against his sensitive organs and two: Tommy was almost always cold. How he could stay shockingly chilly in almost 100° Wilbur didn’t know, but that’s probably a big factor on why Tommy couldn’t be in open air; he’d freeze to death. Or his aversion to any form of light (maybe that was an understatement: a dim lamp 2 rooms over could kill him). But besides that, his unnatural colors, and a few other random snake-like features, Tommy was far from the horrific deep space lovecraftian monster he or the scientists were expecting. He was more just a little person who also happened to be a snake from space. No biggie.

“I- I don’t know what happened down there. There’s…there’s these two people, and one looks exactly like me and the other called me the wrong name and rushed to hug me and I panicked cause I thought he hurt you. You’re not hurt, are you?” “I’m right as rain, mr. human man. I’m sturdier than you think. Er, well, you’re sturdy and I’m in here so yeah I’m good.” Tommy responded, letting out an unearthly mix of a rumble and a hiss as he did. Wilbur liked Tommy’s weird alien noises, it comforted him. He sighed. “Still, I should’ve been more careful-“

“No you shouldn’t have! Stop bein a..a uh…” he paused for a minute to mumble a series of his weird Tommy noises before starting again. “what’s the english word for someone who takes blame for no reason and thinks that they need to solve every problem ever cause somehow everything is their fault?” “I think you’re talking about a martyr complex.” “Stop have’n a martyn complex!” Tommy yelled back, making Wilbur laugh. He pressed a hand against where he felt Tommy within himself, in one of the open areas that had been cleared just for him. Tommy pressed back and started to purr, a common reflex for him when he was happy, excited, or just needed to comfort Wilbur.

Even if Wilbur’s and Tommy’s consciouses were in the nothingness, they could still feel their body’s and move a little bit, even if it was more difficult than when they were awake. Wilbur liked to think of it as the same type of gesture that his scientists would do when they rubbed his hair or gave him a side hug, something he would love to try but could never do with Tommy. He thought Tommy deserved to have his hair played with or to be hugged, but it could never happen. But the pressing in, the only amount of intentional contact they’ve ever had and could ever have, worked just fine as a replacement. Something comforting and quick to show he cared. Of course, Tommy knew he cared, they’ve lived together (well, one within the other, but same difference) for most of Wilbur’s life and all of Tommy’s.

“Still, though…i don’t know what to do. Sam hasn’t had anyone else over, i don’t know what they’re doing here.” “I’d say good old fashion spying, then. See if you can get closer and make out what they’re saying.” “Good idea-“ Wilbur said, beginning to break off the connection before Tommy shouted out. “Wait! Aren’t you gonna let me see?” Wilbur rolled his eyes and somehow, in a way he couldnt describe, let Tommy’s weird telekinetic force into his mind. He opened his eyes and he was back in his room, the nothingness vanished and his body back in his full control. He looked to his mirror and sure enough, the shiny white gloss that overtook his eyes when talking to Tommy had confined itself to just Wilbur’s pupils. He’d given Tommy access.

“There, is that better?” Wilbur asked quietly, unable to respond telepathically when not in his weird zoned out state. The lack of that void didn’t seem to pose an issue for Tommy, though, as Wilbur heard an enthusiastic “Yup!” mixed with a few alien chirps echo through his mind as a response. Wil nodded to his reflection (and Tommy by proxy) and went to the stairs. He probably didn’t need to go down, he just needed to be able to hear them.

***

Ok that was, in hindsight, a bad decision.

“‘Dad?!’ I have a dad!? And a brother!?!” Wilbur whisper yelled, pacing back and forth across his room. With Sam and the now-not-so-much-strangers still talking in their kitchen, he figured it’d be safe to talk outside of the mind void. Tommy, meanwhile, laid himself against the front of Wilbur’s storage, rubbing circles into the walls to try and calm him down. “Maybe that’s not so horrible! I mean, you’re not an orphan! That’s normally a good thing, right?” Tommy said skeptically.

“Maybe it would have been 9 years ago! But now I have you!” Wilbur said, stopping to sit on his bed and pressing the heels of his palms into his eyes. “I don’t know them. I don’t remember them at all; you’d think if they were a good family to me I’d at least recall that they existed. But I don’t. How could I ever trust them with knowing about you?” “I…I don’t know. But…you have a dad, Wil! And a brother! That’s not something you can just ignore! Neither of us know what it’s really like to have a family, maybe…you could learn for the both of us?”

Wilbur sighed. He knew Tommy was right. And they’d both wondered where their families were; if they missed their sons, if they even wanted to give them up in the first place, what ever happened to them. Wilbur always felt awful because Tommy would likely never know. The odds that his parents were even still alive were slim, and it’s not like he ended up on earth with very specific instructions on how to take care of him by accident. But Wilbur had never thought his family could show up, either, yet here they were.

“What do we do about the trio?” “You know how I feel about them. Let’s see if those two are any better.” To be fair, Wil did know how Tommy felt about them; he didn’t like them at all. Tom didn’t like the tests they ran on him, he didn’t like what they put Wil through in order to do tests on him, he didn’t like how they treated his big brother caretaker as the less important one in their experiments, and he didn’t like how damn nosy they were. That part even bugged Wilbur. How the hell did they expect Tommy to be able to explain so much about what he was? He’d never met anyone like himself either, he’d been hatched on earth!

“Well, at least we know them. They’re predictable, and we know they have our best intentions at heart. Our. They know how to help the both of us and I- I don’t know if I can do all this alone.” “Wilbur you haven’t been alone since the day I was born. You’re not gonna start now.”

“What if something happens to you and I don’t know how to fix it? It’s my job to make sure nothing bad happens to you. I couldn’t live with myself if I let myself get caught up in some familial adventure and you ended up getting hurt because of it.” “I get it but don’t you think that’s unfair?” Wilbur paused. “Wh..what do you mean ‘unfair’?” “We’re kids. You’re a kid. It sucks for you that I’m your responsibility, it’s unfair that you gave up your childhood to keep me safe. But you can get it back, some of it, at least. Just…see if this can work out. If not for you, then for me. I hate seeing you put yourself on the back burner like this, Wil, I hate it. I can’t stand that i’m the reason you can’t have friends or play or be a kid. But this could change that. If it can’t, we’ll go to whatever lab the trio puts us in next. I’m sure they’ll be sooo thrilled that you’ve met your family.”

“Tommy don’t say those things about yourself.” Wilbur said, hugging his arms around himself. “I chose to take care of you, and I’ve never regretted it. Not for a second. You’re worth everything I willingly gave up, ok?” He heard a disgruntled noise in response. “Fine, we’ll come back to this conversation later. For now…ok. I’ll..I’ll give them a shot-” He heard Tommy cheer with a mix of wooing and trilling that he made when he was excited “-but Sam obviously knows the trio, so i’m sure he’ll tell them about my family at some point if he hasn’t already.” “I figured, but what are they gonna do? They can’t take you if you want to stay.” “Emphasis on if I want to stay, remember?” “Got it, bossman.”

“Wilbur?” He heard a voice outside call while knocking before the door opened a crack. “Were you…talking to someone..?” Sam said, poking his head in through the gap a bit. “Uh, no, I just..uh..kinda talk to myself sometimes. But I’m, uh, I’m sorry.” Wilbur said, trying to move past his previous conversation as quickly as possible. The less Sam questioned why he was talking to an empty room, the better. “I shouldn’t have freaked out like that, I just…don’t like being touched.” Not exactly true, but if it would keep the blonde guy and his clone from touching him it could be the truth for a while. Sam just solemnly nodded. “I’m sorry, I told him about you and how you were just kinda found with no memories, but…I don’t think he believed that your amnesia was as bad as I told him it was. I don’t think it hit him that you really didn’t know him until you ran off…Wil, he’s-” “He’s my dad, apparently. I was eavesdropping, i heard you talking downstairs.” Sam stared wide eyed for a second before he nodded solemnly.

“I know this must be a lot. I’m sorry if I made you uncomfortable by calling them here, you obviously didn’t expect to meet your long lost family while you stayed for the month. But…I’ve been friends with Phil for a while. That’s the blonde guy, by the way. He…he didn’t take losing you well. I was there for him when he and Techno were grieving and it..it was horrible. They were so broken.” Sam said, eyes beginning to shine from unshed tears. “I can ask them to leave if you want, I understand if-“ “I don’t want them to go.” Wilbur interrupted, almost mad at himself that he’d let Tommy talk him into this. “I want to meet them. I want to see what they’re like again.“

“Really? I mean, you can, but I just thought-“ “I’ve made up my mind. Can I meet them again?” “Y-yeah, yeah, absolutely.” Sam said, leading Wilbur out the doors down the stairs. He heard Tommy make a few more excited chirps before he started purring again. Like always, it put Wilbur at ease a bit. He followed close behind Sam down the stairs and back to the kitchen, where he saw the pink haired boy leaned over the blonde guy, who was sitting at the table with his head on his folded arms. The pink haired boy’s head snapped up from where he’d been comforting his father as Sam and Wilbur re-entered the room, eyes narrowing at Wilbur like he was a rabid animal. In the awkward silence, Phil looked up, and it almost pained Wilbur too see his red cheeks and puffy eyes. He really hadn’t meant to hurt the guys feelings, he just panicked. They all stared at each other for a moment before Wilbur realized that they were probably waiting for him to speak up. Great.

“Uh…I’m sorry for screaming at you, Mr. Phil. I don’t do well with…surprise contact. You just scared me, is all.” The man just continued to stare back at Wilbur for a moment. “You…you really don’t remember me, do you, Orpheus?” Wilbur looked back and took a deep breath. This may have been for Tommy, but he had to stand his ground here. “I’m going to say this once, and only once cause I don’t think you can handle hearing it a second time, ok? You think you can handle this?” Phil looked a bit confused at the annoyed tone but nodded, prompting Wil to continue. “Good, cause here it is: I don’t know who Orpheus is. I don’t know who he was. All I know is he’s not me. Maybe he was, but not anymore. So maybe your grieving wasn’t in vain: because he is in fact very much dead.”

Wilbur paused as Phil’s face fell and tears started to run down his face again. Even the pink haired boy had started crying. He tried to ignore it. “My name is Wilbur. If you want to know me, not Orpheus, me, I…I’m willing to try to connect with you again. I don’t mean to be heartless but I need you to understand that if you want me back, there will be no prior standards for me. I won’t try to change how I am now to be the person I used to be for your amusement, because frankly? I couldn’t give less of a shit about what you want, because I don’t know fuck all about either of you. If you came here to find the son you lost, I’d suggest leaving. Any questions?”

Shocked silence filled the room. Phil stood silent and still as tears poured down his face, his clone even started to cry when he saw Phil crying, and Sam looked like he’d just watched a bomb go off. Wilbur just stood at the center waiting for something to change. For Sam to send him to his room, for Phil to break down even worse or for him and his son to deem Wilbur too different and abandon him (again), but nothing was happening. ‘Way to sugarcoat it, Wil.’ quietly played in his head, as if Tommy was afraid he’d somehow interrupt the group despite them not being able to hear him. He’d elbow himself in the gut later, that’d probably look really weird if he did it now.

“…Do you want to come home with us?” Phil said after a few minutes, shocking Wilbur. “Do you want me to?” Phil just nodded and wiped a few more tears from

his face. “Even if you don’t remember us, you’re still my son. You always will be. I’ve missed you so, so much Wilbur.” He said, kneeling to be at eye level. Wilbur just sighed. “Ok, then…let’s go home, I guess. I didn’t come here with much, I can just go with you now?” “Really?” Phil said, surprised but seemingly excited. “Oh, o-ok then! I thought you’d want a few days but, uh, sure! As long as Sam is ok with that?”

“Oh yeah, Sam!” Wilbur interrupted, turning to face the man who’d just kind of been standing silently, clearly unsure of what to do in the situation. “I need you to tell my guardians what happened. They’ll

probably understand, but they’ll also want to meet my long lost family

since they raised me and all.” ‘More like interrogate them and possibly file a restraining order so they can never take us again, but same difference I guess.’ Tommy chimed in unhelpfully. Wilbur ignored him. “Give them Phil’s address asap so they know where to find me. Also give me their phone numbers, i don’t remember them.” “Wait, guardians?” Phil chimed in, lightly tapping Wilbur on the shoulder with a concerned look. “You have legal guardians?”

“Three college aged guys, yeah. But I wouldn’t say legal,” Wilbur explained, “they just kind of took me in when I was lost without my memories. They tried to find you for a few years but gave up after a while. I couldn’t really give them any info to go off of.” “Oh…do they treat you well?” “Yes.” ‘No.’ Wilbur and Tommy said at the same time, though obviously only one was heard. “That’s…that’s good, i guess.” Phil said quietly, then it was back to the awkward silence. Godammit, Wilbur hated silence. Was it gonna be like this all the time with Phil?

“Well then, let’s get a move on.” Said the pink haired boy who Wilbur had only remembered was in the room when he spoke up. He’d been pretty silent, but at least his tears had dried. That was better than Phil was doing. “And you are?” Wilbur asked. “Technoblade, but most people call me Techno.” he said, holding a hand out. Wilbur just stared trying to figure out why he was doing that. Was it a high five? Sometimes orange would give him a high five when he did a good job testing, but why was he doing it sideways?

Wilbur smacked his hand quickly and pulled away, smiling awkwardly. Techno just lowered his hand and stared. Shit, he was wrong about the high five, wasn’t he?“Ok…” Techno said, “we’re gonna have to re-teach you some stuff, aren’t we?” “Uuuhhh…maybe.” Wilbur said quietly as he heard Tommy laugh at him. Asshole.

Wilbur made his way to their car after grabbing his bag and saying goodbye to Sam. The packed into the car, and Wilbur was met with the silence again. Phil seemed…weary of him, to put it best. Like he was dam one bad storm away from breaking. Techno seemed more disinterested in him, just playing on a phone as Phil started to drive, never looking up at him. Well, he wasn’t going to be the one to break the silence this time. He didn’t want to talk to them anyway.

Instead, he let himself fall into his nothingness, connecting with Tommy on the other side. “Well that went great!” Tommy said sarcastically. “I stood my ground.” Wilbur shot back. “I don’t want to be treated like some lost broken kid. I’m 13. I know what I’m doing.” “Well, I like them. They seem nice!” Wilbur wasn’t sure how to respond. Sure, Phil seemed like he wanted to care about him. Techno seemed…willing, at least, even if he was a bit nonchalant. But could he trust these people? They were the people who abandoned him and left him to almost starve to death in the woods as a toddler. That wasn’t exactly something a loving family would do, but they seemed happy to see him alive. Was it a mistake? How could they have fucked up badly enough that he got amnesia and almost died at the ripe age of 4?

But Tommy seemed so excited. As much as the scientists always tried to make sure it didn’t happen, Wilbur loved Tommy. He really was like a little brother, they’d grown up together. They’d both always been told that it would be for the best that they didn’t make that kind of connection in case something where to go wrong, but who else did they have? Tommy was family to him, and damn if he wouldn’t do anything to make the little boy happy. He sighed. “Yeah, well���let’s hope so.”

#i’m too tired to even type essays in the tags what have i become #jokes aside tho im conkin out once i type this all #cyncerity #mcyt g/t #mcyt gt #alien terrarium au #cynwrites #mcyt g/t vore #tw vore #soft vore #safe vore #tiny!tommy #alien!tommy #giant!wilbur #giant!phil #giant!techno #giant!sam #alright gn y’all peace

[chequered-career]

totally on time birthday gift :’)) for the best puzzle piece ever

fanart for chapter 1 of Puzzle’s cat and mouse AU which is SO COOL

#dsmp g/t #giant!techno #giant!technoblade #tiny!phil #tiny!philza #tw vore mention #for the chapter! #life has been a lot but i finally have time to do stuff :D #marque g/t art

[nobodywritingao3]

Shameful Company [ch 3] Lady Lie [3/4]

masterpost | previous

The village Tommy grew up in was located in a beast's territory, a man eating serpent's. Isolated from the world, all he's ever known is loneliness. When he's forced outside the safety of the town walls he meets a stranger who claims to live beyond the village. They become fast friends despite the fact that the man is clearly hiding something - but can you really blame Tommy? He's never had a friend before.

CW for entire fic: - Wilbur eats people lol - swearing

title taken from 'Shameful Company' by Rainbow Kitten Surprise

chapter title taken from 'Lady Lie' by Rainbow Kitten Surprise inspired by the talented @beckyu and her story 'My Monster to Slay' (tumblr) (AO3)

word count: 4.3k 🐍 read it on AO3

CW for section: depiction of depressive episode including suicide attempt, self harm, disordered eating, and anger issues

Kintsugi (金継ぎ, "golden joinery"), also known as kintsukuroi (金繕い, "golden repair"), is the Japanese art of repairing broken pottery by mending the areas of breakage with lacquer dusted or mixed with powdered gold, silver, or platinum; the method is similar to the maki-e technique. As a philosophy, it treats breakage and repair as part of the history of an object, rather than something to disguise. Kintsugi

How have things been since last you messaged me? I'm reminding you to keep the antidote close, perhaps on your body. I can't imagine he'll be happy trapped in human form and I recommend you keep your guard up.

"FUCK. YOU!" Wilbur screamed, smashing Phil's equipment on the ground. There was a noise like shattering glass as it landed,.

Phil winced, wondering what exactly got ruined. He toyed anxiously with his necklace. "I'm sorry," he said soothingly. "But you need to - "

"What I need is to not be stuck in this - this body!" He crumpled into a ball on the floor, breathing heavily and shaking like a leaf.

"I'm sorry," Phil repeated. "I'm so, so sorry." He made to approach him but Wilbur fell back with a growl at his first movements, and he stopped dead in his tracks.

He's had a hard time adjusting. I'm worried he won't move past this. I'm trying to be patient and I'm doing everything I can in the meantime, but sometimes he just -

"Wil, sweetheart, you need to eat something."

"No." His voice was bitter and hot.

"You haven't eaten anything in days - would you please try the stew? It would put something into your belly without you having to - "

"No." He was more insistent that time, but as well, his voice cracked and wavered. He looked away from Phil and harshly blinked tears from his eyes.

Phil nudged a half bowl of mushroom soup towards him. "There are some potatoes and the like in there, but they're softened from being cooked. I know chewing is new to you, but it's a skill you can practice and - "

"I don't want to learn how to chew," he gritted out. "I'd rather starve."

"Wilbur - you will if you don't eat, please, just try - "

I'm sorry, Phil, that's terrible.

"Oh fuck - honey, what did you do?" Phil dropped his bag and hurried to Wilbur. Kneeling down, he gently took the boy's hands in his own and delicately held them palm up to expose the wrists.

Wilbur stared blankly at the wall. He was completely unresponsive and looked terribly pale.

Phil tried to focus on his labored breathing. Dead children don't breathe. And Wilbur was breathing very hard indeed.

"We're gonna get you cleaned up, okay? It could be a lot worse than it is, but you're still - you're losing a lot of blood."

He pulled him up and Wilbur went without resistance.

The motion seemed to pull him from the fog, from the dark place he was trapped in, but only by a little. He focused hazily on Phil's face before his eyes slid away. He leaned into Phil's touch.

Phil complied, curling protective arms around him and entirely supporting his weight. His heart pounded painfully in his chest as he felt warm, sticky blood beginning to soak into his clothes. "You're okay, you're okay... you're gonna be okay," he mumbled to him. "Everything's gonna be okay."

I'm worried about him. I don't think he's gonna get better.

It took Wilbur three days to wake up.

Every few hours, Phil would press his fingers against the boy's neck just to make sure his pulse was still going.

He lost sleep.

Whenever his body did finally succumb to the exhaustion, he was plagued by the same nightmare. In it, there was a cold body that wouldn't breathe but wouldn't stop bleeding, no matter what he did. He could apply any amount of bandages or tourniquets or even stitches, but the blood would soak through and the wounds would split open. He didn't know why he was even trying to stem the blood flow as the child was long dead, but he couldn't stop himself. Phil just wanted him to be okay.

The cave overflowed, a testament to his failure. The blood was viscous, solid, and completely nontransparent. As it engulfed the floor and the beds and the furniture, he became overcome with the paralyzing fear that everything it swallowed was gone forever, and he could dive deep and swim hard without ever reaching the bottom. The only thing left unblemished by the void was the body itself, frail and small and helpless and dead. Phil couldn't stop trying to save him, futile as it was. The red seeped into his eyes. He was rendered blind, and the last thing he took in before it filled his delicate lungs and killed him dead was the overpowering smell of iron and the distinct, hollow feeling of shame.

He would wake up crying and soaked in cooling sweat, and he'd fall over himself to reach Wilbur's bed. The only thing that could calm him down after those dreams was placing his ear over the boy's heart and listening to the steady beat.

Phil didn't leave the cave. He spent his days watching Wilbur. In preparation for his waking, he'd cook, boiling potatoes and grain and meat until they lost form from the gentlest touch, and impatiently, he waited. He cleaned the wounds and fought the infection with a combination of antiseptic and magic. He redressed the bandages constantly (thanking his stars that the blood never seeped through), and reapplied balm twice a day.

Under his gentle care and watchful eye, Wilbur's body healed. His body healed, but Phil never stopped worrying for his mind.

Shouldn't think like that. He had a bad moment, but he's already proven he's a strong kid. He must have been, to survive what he has. Have faith in him. He needs to be loved before he can be lovable.

"Why did you save me?"

Phil looked up sharply. It was the first thing he'd said in a week. The boy's voice was rough from disuse, and he visibly swallowed. Phil cautiously approached him, handing him his second serving of soup.

"I'm not sure how you mean that question."

He wouldn't look him in the eyes. "Just - why?"

Phil was quiet for a few seconds. "Do you think I shouldn't have?"

The boy looked uncomfortable and didn't say anything.

"I won't be angry if you say yes," Phil said gently. "I'm asking because you did that to yourself. And I have to wonder if you did it because you feel like you deserve to - "

"Does it matter why I did it?" He snapped, his fingers curling into a fist.

Yes. More than anything. "We don't have to think about that right now."

Wilbur softened. He was quiet several seconds. "So why did you save me?"

Because you were hurt. Because you're a kid. Because I don't believe anyone deserves to die. Because I believe you deserve to live. Because I love -

"Do I need a reason?" He sat on the edge of Wilbur's bed. Absentmindedly, his hand reached for the boy's hair and started to ruffle. He froze, realizing what he was doing, and made uncomfortable eye contact with Wilbur.

His cheeks were a bright red... but he wasn't withdrawing from the touch.

Phil slowly restarted his movements, scratching the boy's scalp. "You're adorable," he chanced.

Wilbur sputtered and slapped his hand away, earning a laugh from Phil. He tried to frown at him, but it didn't take long before he was laughing just as hard.

I hope you're right Tech, I really want this to work out for him. I admit, sometimes it feels like he's getting better, but other times -

Wilbur hadn't left his bed in two days.

"Take my hand, okay? I'll bring you up, and then you and I are gonna take a short walk outside. Get you some sunshine? Sounds nice, right mate?"

He stared at Phil's hand with weak contempt. "Can't you just leave me alone?" There was no real bite behind his words. "If you want to take a walk, just go by yourself."

Phil shook his head firmly. "Come with me." He kept his hand extended. "Fifteen minutes. I want to talk to you."

"About what?" Wilbur asked mistrustfully.

"About nothing. I don't have anything I want to talk to you about, I just want to talk to you."

"Well, we're talking right now."

Phil sighed and dropped his hand, his heart sinking to his feet. "Please come with me."

Wilbur glared at him.

~

"I made your favorite," Phil said hopefully, motioning towards the set dining table.

His face crumpled. "No thanks."

"When was the last time you ate?"

He didn't answer.

"Wil?"

~

"Put it down!" Phil yelled.

Wilbur scrambled backwards, a bloody bread knife still clutched desperately in his right fist. For someone who had only started walking regularly a year ago, he was surprisingly agile when pumped full of panic and adrenaline.

"What the fuck is your problem?!" He screamed back. Tears were streaming down his face and his left arm was bleeding freely.

"Please," Phil said, with as much patience and love as he could muster - which at the moment wasn't a lot - "just hand me the knife, okay?"

"Fuck no! And fuck you!"

"You can swear at me later," he begged, frustration seeping into his voice, "please just give me the fucking knife!"

Wilbur dodged his hands and sprinted towards the entrance of the cave. "Eat my fucking ass, Phil!"

Sometimes getting better looks like getting worse.

"I'm not - I can't do this!" Wilbur wailed, hugging his knees. "It's too hard, Phil, I'm never gonna get it."

Phil sat down next to him and pulled him into a tight hug, letting Wilbur empty himself of his emotions. It must have been an hour of heartbroken crying before Wilbur quieted down into sniffles and sharp breathing.

Phil sighed and traced patterns into his back. "I'm sorry. I know I say it all the time, but I'm so, so sorry."

He waited for Wilbur to snap at him, start yelling about how he should be sorry, how 'sorry' doesn't fix anything, how he hates him and no amount of 'sorry' can fix it, but he stays quiet.

Tentatively, Phil continues, "You've been working so hard. Learning to walk on two feet, and chew, and adjust to being small - it's a lot. You should have had someone to teach you these things when you were younger. I'm so sorry, Wilbur. It's so much, isn't it? It's not easy for you."

Wilbur's breathing hitched and Phil felt guilt well up inside of him.

"I - shit, sorry mate, I didn't mean to make you cry - "

Wilbur pressed himself into Phil's chest, leaning in hard and practically forcing Phil to keep his arms around him.

"Oh..." he said softly, blinking down at him.

"Are you gonna leave me?" He blurted out, voice muffled in Phil's chest.

Phil's heart ached. "No. Never. Never ever."

Wilbur clung on tight and didn't say anything else.

~

Wilbur was screaming again. Phil watched helplessly from his bed, where he'd woken up twenty minutes earlier to smashing and yelling. He fiddled with his necklace, worriedly taking in the scene before him.

Every book on nagas had its pages ripped out and crumpled, strewn across the ground like confetti, and a large portion of Phil's clothing had been torn into and cut up. Food was spilled across the floor. Everything was in disarray.

Wilbur was currently tossing things into the fireplace. The fire inside was steadily dying. He didn't seem to give much regard as to if what he was burning was flammable or not, but he still tossed anything he could reach into the pile.

Phil stood up, his heart aching, and made his way to the kitchen area. He gingerly stepped over broken shards of glass and spilled rations while Wilbur stared at him, breathing hard and looking ready to brawl.

Phil just gave him a sad look.

"Will you fucking quit that?!" Wilbur snapped, sending a pile of papers onto the ground.

He winced as they went down, and Wilbur bared his teeth in a mock smile.

Phil just sighed and pulled open one of the cabinets, happy to find that the tea, kettle, and cups were still perfectly preserved. He started to set some water boiling on the stove.

Apparently dissatisfied with his reaction, Wilbur screamed again before picking up a lantern and smashing it down as hard as he could. Shards flew and spread across the ground.

Phil ignored it.

Wilbur started to march towards him, but stumbled and gasped in pain as a long shard of glass lodged itself into his foot. He made a throaty, angry noise and stomped his foot down hard, pushing the debris deeper into his skin before continuing to limp towards Phil. He readied a hand to smack the boiling kettle off the stove, and it was here that Phil finally stepped in.

He grabbed Wilbur around the wrists and tugged him away, firm but gentle. Wilbur writhed in his grip but he paid no mind, sweeping him into bridal style and carrying him to his bed as he clawed and thrashed. Phil deposited him onto the mattress and turned away, back to the tea. He continued preparing it in silence.

Wilbur stood up and hobbled to the kitchen. Phil made to stop him again, thinking he was still trying to knock the tea over, but instead he reached for the cabinet containing their silverware and dishes. He snapped open the little door and started grabbing for the contents.

Staring him in the eyes, Wilbur took a dish at a time and smashed them against the wall. He got through five while coldly glaring at Phil before he started to pick up the pace, gradually paying less and less attention to his reactions - or more accurately, his lack thereof - as he threw everything he could at the walls, the ceiling, the floor. Hot tears streamed down his face. Then he ran out of dishes. He kicked a half broken bowl into the wall and stepped into the shards. By now, there were bloody footsteps all over the floor, tracing out his meltdown, and he seemed all too happy to add more paint to the canvas. He fell to his knees and the glass sank into his flesh there as well. He pressed his palms into the floor and he raised his hands, Phil caught sight of the torn up, encrusted skin.

Wilbur started to whimper, and then he started to sob.

Phil poured two cups of hot tea and left them on the table to cool. He made his way to Wilbur, assuming he'd gotten it out of his system.

He looked up at Phil, his cheeks splotchy and red and his eyes completely bloodshot, and then he reached for the nearest sizable glass shard. Seeing Phil quicken his pace, he quickened too, raising it rapidly towards his face - towards his eye. Just as he made to plunge it into his skull, Phil grabbed him around the arm and held him back. He pulled the glass from his grip, ignoring the cutting sting on its edge and let it shatter on the floor before Wilbur could further self mutilate. He tried to grab him around the armpits, get him to his feet, but Wilbur kicked him hard and shoved him away.

"GO AWAY!" Wilbur screamed. "JUST FUCKING GO!"

Phil tripped as he backed away, his breath catching in his lungs.

Wilbur inhaled sharply. "Fuck - just fuck off..." His voice came out considerably weaker.

It was silent, save for his soft crying.

After a painfully long half minute, he managed to choke out a single, heartbroken, "Why?"

"Why... why what?"

A sob fought its way from his mouth in spite of his best attempts to choke it down, and a fresh cascade of tears went down his face. "Just - why?" A dam broke. "I don't -  I don't get it," he cried, barely able to speak for the sobs wracking his body. "I don't understand. Why? Why? I don't - I just... I just don't fucking get it."

He raised his a hand to wipe away his tears, and the invisible barrier keeping Phil anchored to the spot dissolved. He shot forward and stopped Wilbur's hands, insistent on wiping away his tears himself.

"Glass hands," he murmured. "Let me, okay? Just let me..."

Wilbur hung his head and continued his broken wailing, but he didn't fight as Phil carefully wiped the tears and snot from his face.

Phil sifted through the debris on the ground until he unearthed one of his day packs. He opened it and reached into a padded inner pocket, pulling out a small vial. He returned to the table and pulled one of the teacups forward, emptying the potion into the warm drink.

"Healing pot," he gentle explained. "Let's get you fixed up."

He returned to Wilbur's side and helped him to his feet. Slowly guiding him to the table. An absurd thought hit him then, how similar this action was to when he'd first guided Wilbur to the cave after trapping him in human form. He winced with each limped step Wilbur took, knowing the shards in his feet would only wedge itself deeper into his body. He sat him down at the table.

Wilbur reached out a bloody, glass encrusted hand for his drink and Phil shooed him off, raising the cup to the boy's lips instead. "There's enough in this cup to heal all the damage you took, so you need to drink all of it. But you can pace yourself."

He took a few sips before miserably pulling away. Phil obliged, setting the cup down and pulling his own towards himself. He watched idly as the glass in Wilbur's hands slowly started to push itself out.

"There you go," he murmured warmly. "Potion's doing its job just fine."

By now, Wilbur's crying had begun to taper off.

Phil raised the cup to the boy's mouth again, and he accepted the drink. The last of the glass pushed itself free from his hands, and Phil gently set it into his grip.

They sat in silence. The sun was starting to rise. Their home was a broken mess.

Wilbur stared shamefully into his cup. "I just don't get it," he repeated, voice broken and raspy.

Phil nodded. "Which part?"

"The whole thing."

They continued sipping their tea.

Phil returned to the cabinet, grabbing a jar of honey. He stirred a few dollops into Wilbur's cup and refilled it with another portion of tea. "It'll soothe your throat."

They drank until the sun sat low in the sky.

"I made a mess," he said, breaking the silence.

Phil hummed. "It's okay."

Wilbur clenched his jaw. "How can you say that?"

"Easily."

They lapsed back into silence.

Wilbur chugged the rest of his tea, and then threw the cup against the wall. He turned to Phil with a curious, guarded expression.

Phil regarded him inquisitively. Wilbur's action had lacked anger or passion. If anything, it seemed half-hearted.

He continued sipping his tea. "Do you want another cup?" He clarified in afterthought, "Specifically to drink from."

Wilbur stared at him expressionlessly. "What. The fuck?"

"I'm not going to punish you, Wil," Phil stated with a slight note of exasperation.

He frowned at him. "I don't want you to," he said coldly, clearly offended by the implication.

Phil finished his own cup. "Okay."

"I don't!" he insisted.

"I said okay."

Wilbur was quiet. Then he inhaled sharply and spat out, "Aren't you mad at me?!"

"... I feel like that's irrelevant."

Wilbur glared at him, his hands starting to ball into fists.

Phil sighed, relenting. "Sometimes I am. Sometimes I can be very frustrated with your behavior."

Something in his face dropped and his body went limp, a devastated look like disappointment flashing across his face before he could properly cover it up with a snarl. "Good," he hissed.

"I get angry at you because I care about you, mate. If your goal is self destruction, I wouldn't count this as a victory."

"That doesn't make any sense - none of this makes any sense!" Wilbur exploded.

"I know it doesn't."

"Well, do you care to explain?"

Phil scrubbed at his face. "I would if I thought it would make you feel better." Before Wilbur could say something to add to his spiral, he continued plainly, "I'm going to throw this cup at the wall."

This caught him off guard. "Excuse me?"

Phil threw his teacup at the wall. It exploded. Wilbur stared at him with a slack jawed expression.

"I want to show you something."

He began to murmur under his breath while making quick motions with his hands. Light and sparks began to dance and fill the air behind his fingers' movements. Wilbur's eyes widened. The cup fragments lifted and floated airily towards the table from where they'd collected on the ground. They arranged themselves neatly in a circle. With a deliberate flick of his fingers, the shards fit themselves together like a jigsaw puzzles, and with a softly hummed three note tune, clean gold liquid started to materialize in the air and apply itself to the cracks. Wilbur watched in awe as the delicate shards slowly came together, even the smallest pieces finding their way to where they used to be. The cup, repaired with beautiful gold binding over its cracks, gently set itself onto the table before the pair.

"It's a kintsugi spell. And I want to teach you how to perform it. I also want to teach you how to brew healing potions."

Wilbur swallowed, a conflicted look crossing his face. "Is this why you aren't punishing me?" Because the damage I did wasn't permanent, wasn't big enough. Because I haven't truly pushed you to the edge?

Phil gave him a look. "I'm not punishing you because there's nothing in this world that you could do to me - or to anyone else - that would make me think you deserve to be punished."

A defiant look crossed his face and he spat out harshly, "That is bullshit. You're a fucking liar - or you're delusional. I don't know what's wrong with you, but that isn't how this works. I just want to know - " he cut himself off, glowering at the table.

"It is how this works," Phil gently countered. "It is how this is working."

Wilbur glared at him. "I've killed a lot of people, Phil."

"I know you have."

"And the majority of them didn't deserve it. At all. They were innocents." His voice broke at the end and he furiously blinked back tears. That indignant, heated look never left his face.

"I know that too."

"I ate most of them alive."

Phil didn't respond, only looking at him sympathetically.

"I heard them screaming and dying inside of me, and I never once felt bad about it." Liar.

"I know, Wil - "

"No. No, I don't think you do."

Phil sighed. "Sweetheart, I saw you eat Jared."

Wilbur's mouth fell open in shock, and a mortified look crossed his face.

"Don't be embarrassed that I know. The first time we met, you kept trying to kill me too. You kept trying to eat me."

He averted his gaze, his cheeks heating up and fresh tears collecting in his eyes.

Phil started to perform the kintsugi spell again. "The point is that I know. I know very well. And I still don't think you deserve to be punished."

He worked silently for another minute, pretending for Wilbur's sake that he didn't notice the streams of tears dripping down his face. He finished repairing the teacup Wilbur had thrown, and when he was done, he poured another portion of tea - the last portion left in the kettle - and gently dropped a spoonful of honey in. He stirred it, the sweet noise of the spoon moving in circles absolutely musical.

"I know it seems bad. I know it feels like this is a lost cause, that the damage is too much." He pushed the cup into Wilbur's hands. "But you would be surprised at the things you can fix."

Wilbur accepted the cup. His fingers traced over the gold sealed the cracks. Something in him seemed to die. "You can feel where it broke," he said desperately. His voice cracked into a whimper. "You can feel - they're still there."

"Of course they are," Phil said soothingly, running a finger across one of the gold veins on his own cup. "But the cups still hold tea just fine, don't they? You can tell our cups were broken, but they're still fully functional. And just as beautiful as they were before, even if they look different."

He touched the cup irreverently. "This tea set was a gift from my son, actually. Lots of love in these cups. Lots of history in them too."

Wilbur shrank back, fresh shame taking over his features. "I'm sorry," slipped past his lips. Phil looked at him curiously. It was the first time he'd ever heard him say that.

"You're misunderstanding me. I love these cups, mate. I'm still going to love them even if they get a little broken or chipped. I'm not going to throw them away just because of a little damage. Especially if the damage can be fixed."

He reached forward and gently pushed a few strands of hair from Wilbur's eyes. He adoringly thumbed the boy's temple. "I have every reason to keep these cups. I love these cups. Very, very much." He stared at him for a few seconds, a tender, sweet quality in his eyes. He let go of Wilbur's face and motioned for him to give him his hand.

"Will you learn the spell? I can't always be around to put things back together, and it would make me feel better if I knew someone taught you how to take care of the things you care about."

Still sniffling, Wilbur nodded. "Okay." And then he blurted out, "Thank you."

Phil smiled. "Of course. Anytime. I'm always happy to help you navigate these things, okay?"

Wilbur gave him a small smile in return, and for the first time since he'd brought him home, Phil felt like their story might have a happy ending.

~ ~ ~

🏷️: @i-am-beckyu @da3dm @flowers-of-plenty @gracideaviolet

ah haheuaheuhaeuahe. well i hope you enjoyed this

#rose writes #tiny!phil #giant!wilbur #naga!wilbur #mcyt gt #mcyt g/t #shapeshifter!wilbur #sizeshifter!wilbur #mcyt fanfic #adoption #angst #fluff #fantasy au #Shameful Company (fanfic) #character death #giant!techno #minigiant!techno #dragon!techno #shapeshifter!techno #cw suicide #cw self harm #cw eating problems

[mysterious-gizem]

𝚄𝚗𝚎𝚡𝚙𝚎𝚌𝚝𝚎𝚍 𝙴𝚗𝚌𝚘𝚞𝚗𝚝𝚎𝚛

Warning/s: (???)

Prompt given by: @da3dm

Taglist: @gt-mcyt, @coolest-moon.

〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️

Tommy proudly came home from his little haul, he placed his findings on the ground and inspected every item—A decent amount of clean fabric, and even a few fruits—He thanked the gods he lived on the outer part of the city, so he could forage for food on the plants.

(He misses the food humans made though-)

He sat down in content, having already eaten on his outing. He quickly fixed up his area and snuggled underneath his covers for warmth, the night was spent with eerie silence, yet nonetheless, the borrower slept comfortably that night.

As the sun rose, rays of light beamed down onto the rundown streets of the once-populated city—it was still fairly populated, just not with the living—The borrower still slept soundly in the walls of one of the apartment buildings, Tommy was not a light sleeper in any way; that's when his instincts kick in and warn him if anything happens while he's sleeping.

His eyes blinked open, as he let out a groan while rolling out of bed. The blond grabbed his satchel and his items; he was planning to go to the inner city, risky yet necessary.

The young blond began to head out of his little cavern, he peeked out of the semi-opened window, and saw vast empty streets; he hurriedly started to run across the empty streets, still hiding under objects in case of any unexpected interactions, he knew better than to expect the streets were going to be this empty along the way.

He passed by a few of those mindless creatures, luckily none seemed to pick up on his scent; which was their most highly sensitive sense. As he neared the core of the city, groans became more apparent to his ears.

Tommy could do this! He was a big man, never mind that he was trembling.

Tommy dashed across the streets, nearly getting stepped on in the process; the blond yelped as he almost tripped over a tiny pebble. As he quickly regained his stature he spotted a store not too far away, the blond grinned widely as he began to sprint towards the store. The door was slightly ajar which worked in the blond's favor.

He rushed inside and he was instantly met with rows and rows of looming shelves, albeit it was a bit messy; it seemed that there was still edible food on the shelves. He immediately started to search for crisps; one of the few human foods he had the luxury of tasting, he eventually found the aisle that kept the junk foods.

The teen was practically drooling at the sight as he spotted one of the few crisps he tasted before. The borrower; despite his small stature, was strong enough to carry the lightweight bag back to his home, he however chose to open one of them to munch on.

His taste buds practically melted as the taste brought him nostalgia, he cherished the moment as he got lost in the taste. The blond kept scarfing down the food, as the teen continued with his actions; he was completely oblivious to the door creaking open.

He was snapped out of his trance as he heard a loud grumbling groan looming over him, he was met with the grueling face of the creature; the borrower screamed in terror as he tried scrambling away falling off the shelf in the process. The creature stumbled about, chasing the borrower knocking over the shelves, chaos brewed as the blond dodged objects.

His heart pounded in his chest, the rush of adrenaline pushing him to run faster and faster. He barely grasped the fact he ran face-first at a wall, he scrambled to the sides; not realizing he backed himself into a corner.

He turned around, registering that a shelf had fallen atop the mindless creature, it hissed and growled as it slowly broke itself free. Other shelves and various items blocked his way, he wasn't in great shape to climb any of them as well, that's when it dawned on him.

Shit...

He's done for.

His eyes watched intently as it wiggled itself out of its awkward position, the blond took a shaky breath; the entity roared as it reached out an arm, the sudden act forced him to instinctively shut his eyes and prepare for the worst. His ears felt like it was about to burst; all he could hear was loud ringing.

And then nothing.

He tried grasping onto the wall behind him, but his hold faltered as he dropped to his knees. The borrower trembled as he sensed a shadow loom over his wobbly frame. Incoherent words made their way to his ears, words that boomed, so much so that it sounded cold and terrifying.

Their words blurred together until he was met with a huge hulk of a man with a terrifying boar mask. His voice returned to him as he started spewing out curses or sentences like 'get the hell away from me!' The teen was nothing short of frantic as suddenly another figure came into vision, the new person was shorter than the man with a boar mask but was still significantly taller than him.

That didn't stop him from swatting and cursing at them until the man with golden locks like him spoke in a deep yet loving tone.

"Hey mate, we're not gonna do anything, but you look pretty shaken up-" The taller was cut off by the borrower's bold mouth. "Oi just back off man, I can take care of myself!" He retorted and stubbornly flipped him off.

"We still have to take these supplies back to our base, how about you think about it?" As the teen turned back around the two men already sheathed their weapons and began grabbing items, he wanted to protest as he watched them take away mostly all the food, yet his mouth snapped shut.

Was it that bad if he decided to go with them?

He was lost in thought until the familiar voice asked again, "Hey kid we're leaving, you sure you don't wanna come with us?" He was met with silence as Tommy blankly stared up at him. The man sighed as he turned to walk away.

He came to an abrupt stop as he heard the borrower's voice, now sounding smaller and rather...weak.

"Wait..."

"I'll come with you."

#g/t #giant/tiny #gt #mcyt gt #mcyt g/t #writing #dsmp g/t #giant!philza #g!philza #giant!techno #g!techno #t!tommy #tiny!tommy #request #borrower!tommy

[x-pair-o-dice-x]

hehehehhehhooooo,,, guess who made a fic :3... haven't transferred it to ao3 yet, so– gimme, like– an hour or so? judging from past experience.

in the meantime,,, take these related doodles i made for @wendy130's ghost chasers prompt,,,, skndksmskdj.

#mcyt gt #mcyt g/t #my art #vore tw #<- ??????? well. he's ABOUT to be eaten #yeah this is a noms fic. what else did you expect #tiny!ranboo #giant!techno #giant!philza #giant!tubbo #giant!dream #giant!tommy #redesigned tommy so that's why he's there twice #body horror #<- ????? it's.. minor? just dream's mouth. but jic #anyway time to go edit the fic cya in a bit o7 #can't wait to go fix all the goddamn spaces that'll appear after italicized words orz

[2-sleepy-for-this]

Cause for Celebration

hey guys, here’s the new years fic I impulsively decided to write last minute. Sorry to say it’s not beta read or checked but it’s just a lil oneshot I wanted to get out before midnight.

tw ~ loud noise, Tommyinnit at night

word count ~ 930

Philza followed his daily routine just like he always did after sun down, he walked through the inner workings of the house, it’s walls and vent were familiar to him so much so that he didn’t even need a light when walking. He had rather good night vision as a borrower as well which he was glad for.

He made his way through the tunnel that would take him to the inside of the snack cabinet, admiring the way the light flittered through the cracks of the floorboards overhead. He liked the little things, pun intended, and tried to take things slow despite borrowers quick paced nature.

Not that he needed to be paranoid anymore, the humans of the house, the three beans that had been brothers without other family, knew about him.

No need to hide from the supposed danger, his sons. Despite them not being his by blood, his paternal instincts went wild when he first moved here, and he wasn’t even sure why until he was caught by Techno and found out they were orphans. That didn’t sit right with him.

So of course he had immediately adopted them all, regardless of the size difference and from that point on he was their father, their tiny father that loved them very much.

He was shaken out of his thoughts by loud footsteps running down the hallway he was under. It must be Tommy, that teenager still didn’t understand the concept of quiet, even with a tiny father.

Phil was curious to see what Tommy was so excited about though if his footsteps gave any indication to his mood. So he shifted his course to the nearest wall exit he had, though he still took his time getting there. 

At least, he would have if not for the sudden pounding in the wall near his living room exit, accompanied by sounds of a gremlin child screeching for him, the familiar sound of:

“Phiiiilllll!”

He huffed to himself at his youngest’s attempt to get him out of the walls. Well, it worked, but Phil didn’t mind if his sons needed something.

“What do you want, gremlin child?”

He crossed his arms, walking out of the wall with a glare, no real heat behind it. 

“It’s new years! You gotta celebrate with us, dadza!”

Now this was new… what was that? Sure, Phil knew human beans had holidays for a lot of things, a lot more than borrowers had, but new years? What was the point of celebrating a new year when it was just the passage of time?

Tommy seemed excited about it though, and Wilbur and Techno were there sitting on the couch too… he couldn’t say no to spending time with his sons.

“Alright.. so what exactly do we do?”

“Watch the ball drop, it’s on the television.”

Wilbur pointed to the TV, a machine he rather enjoy watching during family movie nights, it was on a channel show a brightly colored gigantic ball on a building and a countdown timer underneath it. Phil had to admit, the colors were very mesmerizing.

“And once the clock reaches zero we celebrate and drink.”

Techno chimed in with a smirk, Wilbur butted in at Philza’s apprehensive expression.

“Grape juice. We drink sparkling grape juice.”

He clarified with a chuckle, Phil sighed in relief, he couldn’t have his sons drinking alcohol at their ages, he knew that humans needed to be twenty one years old for some reason and he trusted human law when it came to his boys.

Philza agreed to staying and together the family watched the television and laughed, telling stories as time ticked on. It was times like this that made Philza truly happy in his lifetime. If he heard a year ago that this would be his life, sitting with humans who deemed him their dad in a home that felt safe, he’d scoff and say it was crazy…

He liked this crazy life.

Even as Tommy managed to drain his energy before midnight, passing out on the couch while Wilbur and Techno had a ‘civil’ argument with Phil sitting on Techno’s palm, he felt happy. This was the kind of life he thought wasn’t possible for a borrower like him yet he was living proof it was.

Finally his sons, minus Tommy, started counting down from 10

9

8

He was held close by Techno, the surface of his palm rough and textured nicely.

7

6

5

Phil was given to Wilbur and he was hugged against his chest, he clung to the fabric of his sons favorite yellow sweater, feeling comfort.

4

3

2

He looked at Tommy, his youngest son asleep, looking so peaceful as he slept. Phil smiled softly at his secure feeling.

1…

“Happy New Year!”

Three of the four shouted, Phil could care less about how his ears rang at the noise, he could only feel love as he watched his family, Tommy jumped up awake from the jump scare and shouted.

Once they calmed down from the height of the night they were all quick to settle down, the television was off and the lights were dim as the brothers relaxed on the couch, too tired to go to their respective bedrooms. Phil didn’t care though, because while they were all on the couch together it meant he didn’t have to go back to his room in the walls either. 

He didn’t have anything to worry about as he laid down on a pillow in Techno’s lap between Wilbur and Tommy. Maybe new years wasn’t so bad.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ happy new years! Hope y’all enjoyed and my posting schedule will hopefully get better so dw if you gave me a oneshot prompt!

tag list:

@da3dm @i-am-beckyu @lunar-but-little @phoenix-on-the-run

#giant/tiny #g/t community #g/t #mcyt g/t #giant!techno #giant!tommy #giant!wilbur #tiny!phil #<3 #new years g/t #Love borrowers being confused about human holidays

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

Pocket-Sized Sidekick (2)

Link To Part One

Word Count: 1,970

TW's: Fear, Fearplay (Intentional and Unintentional), Violence, Injury, Implications Of Past Abuse, Threats Of Violence

Characters: C!Ranboo, C!Technoblade, C!Dream, C!Philza, C!Wilbur

Summary: Ranboo finds himself in a totally relatable situation where he's been abducted by one of the scariest supervillains in existence.

Ranboo gets bullied in this one >:)

"...dunno, the freezer?"

"I'm not putting a person in our freezer."

"He probably wouldn't take up much room."

"Don't be an idiot. He'll get blood on my ice cream."

"Scratch the hero. Why don't we just put Will in the freezer?"

"Nobody's putting anyone in the freezer."

The world was a bokeh photo. Clarity was slowly afforded to Ranboo. His mind swam as he gradually pushed himself upright. The argument had become little more than background noise. The entirety of his focus was on the sharp pain coursing through his back in bolts.

"Did you even try to get his suit off? See what we're dealing with?"

"Yeah. Things got an airlock or something."

Airlock? His suit had an airlock on it. Nobody could get the thing off without popping his head off in the process. Maybe he should mention something to...to...

Who was talking?

He could have sworn one of the voices sounded familiar and yet he couldn't place it. Ranboo having memory problems? How entirely out of character. A weary groan leaked from his lips. Dream was going to give him an earful for this one.

His eyes slowly lifted to take in his surroundings. It seemed like a normal enough room. A sofa, a television, a couple windows...all of which seemed comically larger than the hero-in-training. Nausea churned Ranboo's stomach.

Three figures jarringly proportionate to their surroundings stood around in the kitchen. As soon as one with suspiciously pink hair started turning towards him, Ranboo pulled a Toy Story maneuver. He immediately went limp as a ragdoll, dropping flat down against the wood surface beneath him.

There was a long pause.

"He's awake," the Blood God's menacing voice rattled his very bones.

"How do you know?" someone else inquired.

"Will, unless you're going soft on me, he's awake."

Shit. Ranboo made every attempt to suppress whatever fear the Blood God was detecting from him but acknowledging it alone only seemed to make grow stronger. His skin was slick with sweat beneath the impossible heat of his suit. It was like being in a greenhouse. Or an oven.

"Little hero."

The gravely voice was a stark contrast to the sing-songy tone it was forcing.

Ranboo dared to open his eyes only to find an all too familiar boar skull towering over him. A shaky sigh slipped from the sidekick's lips. His head lolled to the side like an answer to the call of darkness lulling him straight back into the state of unconscious he'd only just escaped.

A reckless pressure on his side startled him wide awake.

"Aw, don't die yet. If you keel over before we start interrogating, I owe Will twenty bucks."

Interrogating?

He really was screwed. No doubt about it. The only real question was whether the stress or the villain would do him in first.

"You'll be out a Jackson if you keep poking him like that," someone else from the kitchen pointed out.

The pressure hastily retreated.

"What'd you find on this guy?" the Blood God inquired. He canted his head like a confused puppy. "He seems kinda spineless for a hero."

Ouch. Mentally, physically, emotionally. What ways hadn't this guy wounded Ranboo?

It wasn't like the villain was even wrong. In fact, if Ranboo miraculously made it out of this alive, he swore to himself that he'd resign right then and there. Turn in his badge and what little was left of his suit and beg for his server job back.

"Nope. Our mini-man here is a ghost," a heavily accented voice replied.

"Alright, Casper, I'm going to need you to take your helmet off so we can have a little chat," the Blood God stated. Ruby ringlets in hollow eye sockets kept Ranboo pinned in place. The bright eyes cast a warm glow against the beige bone material of the skull on the villain's head.

No way in fresh hell was he taking off his helmet. It may have been busted in by the foot of the villain he'd stumbled across in the alleyway but it was the only thing standing between him and the three villains in the room with him.

"What, d'ya want me to say please?" the Blood God drawled. He brandished the dagger from his hip, giving it a skillful twirl between his fingers. Without warning, the blade was buried in the wood mere inches from Ranboo's head. "Or are ya looking for some proper motivation?"

The sidekick's heart stuttered to a halt in his chest. Where he once found fear within the red eyes bearing down on him, he was bombarded solely with promises of death. Demise. Something worse. He didn't usually make a point of considering fates worse than death but it was impossible to ignore when they were looking you straight in the face.

It was like he was frozen but couldn't stop twitching all the same.

"I-I can't," Ranboo ground out between chattering teeth. He could hardly breathe.

"Why not?" the Blood God demanded.

"Dream'll kill me if I show you my face."

The broad man let out a dark chuckle.

"You're really more scared of that homeless Teletubby than you are of me?"

There was a pause. The ever-present grin on the villain's face faltered. He leaned back only a hair's width but even that much was a mercy.

"Wait, seriously?" he asked in bewilderment. Ranboo felt the urge to apologize. Scaring people was kind of his whole brand and while he was doing a bang-up job, nothing was more terrifying than the prospect of pissing off Dream.

Someone let out a hardy laugh from the kitchen. The Blood God shot a lethal glare in their direction.

"He's more scared of a smiley face in tights than he is of you!" they wheezed. "You fell off, Techno."

The Blood God reached forward without looking. Ranboo braced himself only to find the villain's fingers wrapped around the hilt of the dagger beside him. With disturbingly little effort, he pried the knife free of its wooden prison and threw it with inhuman grace.

With the sound of something shattering into pieces followed by an indignant squawk, the laughter ceased all at once.

"That was my favorite mug!"

The Blood God scoffed. "You say that about every mug I break."

"Stop breaking my mugs!"

"Stop making them such easy targets!"

"Oh you-"

"Uh-uh," a third voice-Phil, Ranboo presumed-interjected. "Take it outside."

"With pleasure," the Blood God snarled. He rose to his full, intimidating height. It was like he'd forgotten about Ranboo altogether. Not that he was complaining, of course. He cracked his knuckles as he strode off. Ranboo pitied whoever he was planning on squaring off against.

Two sets of footsteps retreated somewhere through the house. It wasn't until a door slammed shut that the chaos resumed, only this time it was far too muffled to make any of it out.

Ranboo was slow to push himself upright. Even so, pain zipped through his abdomen in reprimand. He drew in a hissing breath.

"Take it easy, mate," Phil prompted. He slowly came into view as he shuffled around the side of the sofa to kneel before the coffee table. Even without the costume, Ranboo easily recognized him. Only one villain in his memory bank had massive black wings like those.

Corvus.

"I want to help you but I can't really do that unless I see where you got hurt," Phil tried. He had a deceptively kind smile. When Ranboo didn't respond, he seemed to try a different approach. "The crows told me you seem to be having a bit of a glitch with your suit. Maybe I could help with that?"

Right. The crows. The whole reason this group of villains in particular seemed to have eyes everywhere was because they did. The crows were like little spies. Ranboo wasn't sure how it worked but somehow, the birds always got back to Corvus.

"Are you supposed to be...'good cop' or something?" Ranboo asked between pants.

Corvus chuckled.

"Something like that, I suppose. Look, I've been through this routine a dozen times. We take a hero, we get the info we can, the hero organization bargain for them, and we give them back with only a few strings attached. But I'd really rather not return a corpse because that would look pretty bad on us, wouldn't it? So just let me take a look, we'll get you patched up, and then you'll be on your way in no time."

So much of what Corvus said didn't make sense and yet, he made it sound like the most logical explanation he could convey. Was this gaslighting? This felt like gaslighting.

The sidekick sighed.

"Dream's not going to give you anything for me. There's plenty of recruits worth wasting the resources on but I'm not one of them."

The villain tilted his head in consideration.

"Is that so? Well, then I really should get working on those injuries if you're going to be staying a while," Corvus pointed out.

Ranboo drew in a deep breath. Weighing his options, there were only a few things within the realm of his capabilities. He could just lay there and wait for the bloodloss to pull him under, he could try to make a run for it, or he could take the suit off and pray that the villain was being genuine in their concern for his wellbeing.

None of them seemed to have an assuredly good outcome so he'd just have to go with the one that might give him the best chance of living.

He raised his hands under his helmet. The glove let out a weak chime as it connected to the mechanisms within. He drummed in a quick combinations of buttons and the lock reluctantly clicked out of place. With a deep breath, slowly raised his only method of protection up off his head.

With even more hesitation, he pulled his suit down around his ankles. He was just glad protocol called for them to wear clothes beneath the super suits. Otherwise he'd feel even more exposed than he did in that moment.

When he his gaze trailed back up to meet Corvus', he found the man gawking down at him with his hands clasped over his mouth. Did Ranboo really look that bad?

"How...how old are you?" Phil blurted. His tan complexion had faded to a sickly grey.

Ranboo chewed at his lower lip. Was he really meant to answer that? Then again, what harm would it do?

"Seventeen."

Something unreadable sparked to life in Phil's eyes.

"Does Dream know that?"

Ranboo's focus shifted elsewhere.

"I-I guess? He's the one that hired me."

Phil continued on staring for far too long before hooking his index fingers into his mouth. He let out a shrill whistle that nearly shattered Ranboo's eardrums. Right on command, a flutter of wings sounded overhead. A sleek, black bird claimed its perch on Phil's waiting arm.

"Go get Wilbur," Phil instructed.

The crow let out a caw before taking off in the direction the Blood God had gone off in.

Ranboo raked through his words with a fine-toothed comb in search of something he'd said that could have shocked Phil so badly but he came up with nothing. A not-so-convincing smile was plastered on the blonde man's face as he returned his attention to the tiny hero waiting on the coffee table.

"You just wait here, okay? Wilbur will take care of you. I just have to...er...grab the first aid kit."

The villain took off before Ranboo could even get another word in. He was left standing there wallowing in his own confusion. Ranboo had learned a thing or two about identifying a lie during his time working under Dream. The only real question that remained was:

Why was Phil lying to him?

#g/t #mcyt g/t #g/t writing #g/t angst #giant/tiny #giant/tiny writing #giant!wilbur #giant!techno #giant!philza #tiny!ranboo #accidental fearplay #intentional fearplay #hurt/comfort #angst with a happy ending

[guppybubbles]

oooo,, i really like your writing!!

if you’re still taking prompts- mayhaps something including.. dragons(i 👉👈 i really like dragons), or mers? as for with who, my personal preferences are peer pressure duo or alliumduo, but if you’re not up for writing either of those, feel free to do whatever!

apologies for not following the fake title format, i am- not good at titles of any kind,, dkdnkdndkdk. hope you have a good rest-of-your-day! — 🎲

GOLD FEVER [1/2]

Ranboo is an Enderman being hunted down by monster hunters. Unable to protect themselves, they offer tons of gold to The Blood Dragon.

Word Count: 2777 words

CONTENT WARNING!!! : mentions of scars and swords, general fear, fear of death, implies being eaten (but nothing happens)

( A/N: no need to apologize!! the fake titles prompts was just smth beckyu wanted to do! nothing wrong with not following the format <33 anyways, i hope you enjoy! teehee )

He's been standing here for an hour, maybe even two. Ranboo just can't bring themselves to enter. The entrance looked so intimidating, he can't even imagine what lies inside.

The mouth of the cave was huge, big enough to possibly fit every single tree in this forest. Every time he tries to hype himself up to go inside, his fear pulls him back to where he started.

But would he rather die by hunters who've been known to make their bounties deaths slow and merciless, or die by a dragon who would most likely just make their death as quick as possible?

Yeah, dragon. Dragon sounds better.

Ranboo took in one deep breath of air and stepped in once more, trying to ignore the strong urge to run away and return home. Even with their excellent night vision, the cave still looked dark. They could barely make out the claw marks scratched on the walls. It felt like something out of a horror book.

He knew he was nearing more into the dragon's den when he noticed thin stripes of light being hidden behind a thick layer of leaves. Ranboo felt like their heart was going to break out of their chest with how intense it’s been beating. As quietly as possible, they pushed through the foliage and held their breath.

Redstone ores were scattered around the den. Ranboo remembers they shine much brighter than other ores he’s mined, he’s not a rock expert but he assumes the reason why they shine so much is their energy source. It’s one of the main ores being used in many advanced communities, perhaps the shine is an indicator of how much energy just one ore has.

Redstone wasn’t the only thing sparkling in the dark cave, because right in the middle was a large pile of gems that could make a King seem poor in comparison. Ranboo swears they can see crystals they didn’t even know exist, and they mine as a hobby! They feel entitled to at least know a decent amount more than basic knowledge when it comes to ores.

Ranboo froze when he saw whose head lay on top of the gold pile. The Blood Dragon.

Staring right at him.

"It— it's not—" They stuttered, "It really isn't what it looks like." Ranboo fully emerged from the curtain of leaves, holding their hands up to emphasize their intentions.

The dragon growls, a rumble so loud that the Redstone's lights flicker with fear. Its large tail wraps around the mound of riches, assuming that the enderman was here to steal their possessions. Ranboo couldn't blame them, he was holding a suspiciously big brown sack that reminded him slightly of the material thieves used.

"I'm here to give you offerings—! Actually!" He quickly added, throwing the sack in between the both of them and gold spilled through its opening. The rumbling stopped and Ranboo released a breath of relief.

The Blood Dragon looked interested in his gold, to say the least, and Ranboo wasn't even sure if they could understand his words. There have been cases that stated most dragons have a consciousness and can understand simple phrases, and Ranboo was desperate for any sort of protection— so he'll keep trying until he was sure they could understand him.

Slowly, they picked up the sack of gold again and approached the dragon. The dragon's eyes squinted, skeptical of the enderman.

"I'm… I'm being hunted by monster hunters and I need your protection. Not forever! Just, just enough to… I don't know, scare them off to make them leave me alone?" Ranboo stopped right in front of the pile.

A gust of warm air washed over him, the dragon just huffed out a puff of smoke— almost looking tired and annoyed. It seemed less angry than it was when he first entered, so he'll take it as a good sign.

"… Okay. I'll take that as an… unsure response." Ranboo slowly placed his brown bag right next to the bundle of gems.

The dragon stared at him, then carefully inspected the bag with its snout. Seeing a dragon— not just a dragon, the BLOOD Dragon, up close is a surreal experience Ranboo did not know they would ever have. The tales spread across the SMP mentioned how the Blood Dragon would slaughter anything and anyone in its path, yet here it was now, pouring the bag's contents onto his pile, seemingly accepting the offer, but still wary of the enderman.

"It's not a lot of gold, I know— Compared to your treasures." Ranboo spoke, "But, I promise, I'll keep paying you until you accept to protect me from the hunters… Is- Do we have a deal?"

The dragon stared at him for a long period, and Ranboo starts to think he was insane for even trying to make a conversation with them. Then, the Blood Dragon slightly bows its head and closes its eyes, accepting the enderman's offer.

Ranboo lets out a sigh of relief.

──────⊹⊱✫⊰⊹──────

Ranboo arrives the next day with another big brown bag of gold, mixed with bits of diamonds and iron. While there was still a bit of anxiety when he entered the mouth of the cave again, it didn't take him nearly two hours to even consider going inside, which isn't a big victory, but a victory nonetheless.

The dragon was there when he set foot in the den. He huffed out another puff of smoke through his nostrils but remained lying down next to his riches. He didn't seem aggressive today, though still looked wary of his presence— Ranboo regarded that as another small victory. "Hello, um, dragon."

The Blood Dragon softly grumbled in response. He decided to think of that as the dragon greeting him back. “Maybe you won’t like being called just dragon. Do you have a name? You probably do but you can’t tell me. Should I call you something else?” He rambled, “Should I just call you Blood, Gold, or I don’t know, Michael?”

The dragon stared at him silently, and Ranboo felt like he was being judged for his name choices. “What? I think Michael is a good name!” He defended, “Though, I guess it doesn’t suit you…” The suggestions may suck, but in his defense, he’s never been good with names. As he offered another addition of gems to the dragon, he took that time to examine the treasures he has from afar. Ranboo noticed a sharp sword encrusted with the shiniest diamonds and even bits of Netherite. “Oh! What about Dagger, or Blade?”

They laughed at themselves, Prime, what were they doing? They were trying to make conversation with a dragon and trying to give him a name. He felt stupid and pathetic. “What am I even doing?” They silently asked.

The dragon moved to examine Ranboo’s offering, and the enderman plopped himself on the ground. “I’m talking to a dragon.” This was unbelievable, “I can’t find anyone willing to protect me, so- so I have to turn to a dangerous dragon because, because what? The hunters find me dangerous since I’m half enderman, half—” Ranboo cut themselves off, opting to sigh instead.

He can’t ramble on about something the dragon wouldn’t care about. Mob hybrids aren’t usually treated with the greatest respect. He’s met Charlie, a slime hybrid, they acted with childish wonder yet had random times where they showed an infinite amount of wisdom. They’ve been on trips together and he’s seen how many villagers disregarded his existence. It felt unfair, Charlie has been nothing but kind yet still treated like an unredeemable criminal.

Fortunately, Charlie found a safe place for shelter from the hunters. They were taken in by one of the richest people on the SMP, a gambler who owns multiple casinos and owns a big portion of land dedicated to stealing money from the unsuspecting in a ‘legal’ way, Quackity from Las Nevadas. Ranboo did have his doubts meeting him, but he noticed the strong bond between him and the slime hybrid, and who was he to interfere with that?

Ranboo thought he could find safety in a person just like Charlie had with Quackity. It doesn’t even need to have a strong bond, just someone to shield him from harm. He attempted to pay experienced fighters for that reason, but he’s been accused of stealing something that was rightfully earned by hours and hours of mining.

“Do you accept my offer, Blood Dragon?” The dragon made a low growling sound, not as scary and hostile as before but it did make Ranboo tense up. It reminded him of exactly what he was dealing with, he shouldn’t let his guard down no matter what whenever he gets near this giant dragon. The dragon letting him enter and giving him mercy by not outright killing him shouldn’t be a reason for him to relax.

Ranboo scrambled to his feet and patted off the dust on his pants,

“Okay… Next time then.”

──────⊹⊱✫⊰⊹──────

Ranboo didn’t visit the day after that, nor the following days after that either. They decided to spend their time mining in ravines and mineshafts. Who knew giving most of your gems to a dragon would almost empty your supply of ores? They didn’t mind it though, they loved spending their time mining around and always get satisfied with how many resources they got from hours and hours of emptying various caves.

It wasn’t all that dangerous either. Because he was half-enderman, Mobs recognized him as just another mob and left him alone, giving him a safe space. He was hidden away from the judgments of villagers, the spying eyes of hunters, and the awful stares of other beings. In here, Ranboo felt safe.

Safe, but isolated.

It’s what he wanted, but did the price of safety mean taking away his company? Any sort of interaction would be void if it meant living in the caves forever. Mobs aren’t very responsive to his attempts at socialization. It didn’t help that he was an enderman hybrid either, one of the mobs most known for not being able to handle interaction with species that aren’t other endermen and hate eye contact.

He wanted to visit the dragon today, but he hesitated on that decision. Hours of mining led to him upgrading his items at his base using those materials, which left him with nearly the same amount of materials he had before he started mining. Most of what he had was a bunch of emeralds he didn’t have much use for. Trading them with villagers was great, they’d trade some decent stuff but the quality slowly declined over the years. The last time he tried to trade, they tried offering ten pieces of paper for 8 emerald gems, which he didn’t need when he had an entire library of books and journals back at home. It meant most of the emeralds he has and the emeralds he’s mined collect dust in chests.

He debated if he should give emeralds to a dragon who clearly prefers gold, but wouldn’t it be better to have something other than nothing? Ranboo didn’t have the energy to keep mining either. Don’t get him wrong, he loves mining but he loves rest as well.

Ranboo held a large bag of emeralds, and he had that deja vu of wavering fear when he reached the dragon’s den again. What if he didn’t accept his offer? Everyone knows emeralds aren’t of much use other than trading, they can’t be used to make armor or tools. They’re pretty much useless!

Just like the times before, the dragon was there next to their heap of jewels. “Hello, Blade.” Ranboo greeted softly, and he knew he heard him when he did his signature puff of smoke as a hello. “D’you get lonely without me? I know, I’m pretty good company.” He joked and Blade thumped his tail on the ground.

Ranboo chuckled. “Ah- I think I should just be honest here. I don’t… have gold, I just have emeralds and I—”

The Blood Dragon then suddenly popped up from where they were laying and stared at Ranboo. In instinct, the enderman immediately looked away. Oh Prime, Oh Prime, Oh Prime. Coins and metal shuffled around, Blade was moving. Fear struck in Ranboo, especially since they have never seen the dragon stand up or move away from their treasure before.

Thud. Thud. Thud.

He was walking closer and they closed their eyes, trying to touch into their teleporting skill and get out of there. Ranboo could feel the particles surrounding him, and he attempted to imagine the forest outside to teleport to. They weren’t great with teleporting, in fact, it mostly only works when he’s scared and oh, he’s so scared. “Sorry, sorry, sorry, sorry!” They screeched out ender apologies, only coming off to the dragon as warbles of sounds.

Blade pressed their snout against Ranboo’s chest, effectively trapping them between him and the wall of the cave. “Oh my Pr- please, please, don’t kill me!” Panicked clawed hands made an effort to push the dragon’s face away, to no avail. This is it, the exact scenario he was worried about. He should’ve just waited for more time and come back with the items the dragon had wanted, or maybe he shouldn’t have even come here at all. This deal was nothing but just the dragon milking out Ranboo’s resources until he was bone dry. Tears welled up in his eyes and they burned his eyesight. Wow, thanks for giving him every enderman trait except for great teleportation skills. Thanks a lot, Universe.

Ranboo didn’t know what he should feel in his last moments. Whether it was anger or sadness, he just wanted the dragon to get it all over with as swiftly as he could. He knew he was taller than the average human but the Blood Dragon was huge, so he could make quick work with him.

Thump. Thump. Thump.

Blade made a sound, a small roar that sounded a lot like curiosity.. Or was it happiness?

Ranboo opened their eyes and felt their heart thump louder than they had before. The dragon was mere inches away from himself, though their attention was focused on the brown bag on the floor, or maybe what was inside it. They never noticed the dark pink scales scattered across his body before, and the scars of what were presumably sword scars were displayed at his neck. Not just on his neck, but scars displayed on his wings, tail, and even on his chest.

Blade sniffed at the bag and made soft sounds, gently poking the bag with his snout. Ranboo, still in a state of shock, tried to speak. “Oh. Oh- so you were- you like emeralds?” He questioned, and noted that the continuous thumping was just Blade’s tail excitedly hitting the floor.

Slowly, he picked up the bag full of emeralds again and watched as how Blade’s thin irises expanded, reminding him of a cat focusing on a red dot from a laser pointer. “Jeez, you-” Ranboo breathed deeply, unable to find the right words for their feelings. They approached the heap of treasures again, and Blade followed right behind them. Their massive shadow covered the entirety of the enderman and they made a delighted trill sound as the emeralds were added. “There. Happy?” Ranboo squeaked an ender curse as Blade pressed his snout against his body again, and the sound of thunder outside just made his nerves rise again.

Wait… Thunder?

He could barely hear it in this huge cave, but there were sounds of raindrops and the occasional thunder outside. That was strange, he could’ve sworn there weren’t any clouds in the sky when he had first entered- but to be completely fair, he wasn’t paying attention to the sky when he was contemplating about entering the cave earlier. He’s stuck. “Crap…” He mumbled.

Blade turned their head to the ceiling of the cave, aware of the thunderstorm happening outside. Ranboo walked up to the curtain of leaves to see just how bad the storm was, maybe they could set off back to their home. Sure, it may hurt but— “Wait, wait, wait, what are you doing?!” Blade’s tail wrapped around his waist and lifted him just a few inches off the ground and brought him closer.

Blade laid down and gently placed Ranboo by his neck. Was he asking him to stay here? “Thanks, but I got to get home, Blade.” He said, patting the dragon's neck. The dragon replied with a pleading rumble, eyes closed and cuddling their neck closer to him.

Ranboo smiled softly. He couldn’t say no.

#mcyt g/t #mcyt gt #dsmp g/t #dsmp gt #g/t writing #g/t #g/t au #giant/tiny #tiny!ranboo #giant!techno #guppy's asks #guppy writes! #Gold Fever au #mcyt g/t community #mcyt gt community #gt writing #dragon!techno #edits will be made after i sleep zzzzz

[plant-gt-thought-box]

Blueberry Bush Family

Hi hello welcome to my TED talk about a new au I made inspired by this post. I hope you all like it! *buries myself in dirt and disappears once again*

Also @brick-a-doodle-do take it

------

° Eret recently got into gardening and baking so she bought a small blueberry bush she can grow in her garden! Techno and Wilbur agree to help Eret plant it when one of them sees a tiny lil head poke out of the bush…

° The three brothers just look down at the tiny boy very confused on why there is a tiny person in the blueberry bush Eret got

° Then Wilbur calls dibs on the tiny boy and very carefully take some out of the blueberry bush to inspect him, Wilbur has decided this tiny gremlin that is biting his fingers and looks a little bit like a mouse is his lil brother and no one can stop him

° Techno and Eret start inspecting the blueberry bush to see if there's anything else strange about it and find a tiny log leading down into the dirt and a pair of blue eyes staring right back at them from the darkness

° Techno, being the brave soul he is, sticks his finger in and pulls out an angry looking birdman who is also small (but still much bigger than the tiny mouse boy)

° Eret decides after the discovery of yet another tiny person in the blueberry bush gets a small piece of string and ties one of the blueberries that's right to it, she lowers it into the small hole and when she feels something tugging on it quickly pulls another small person out…they look like a black and white bunny person and instantly start crying once they realize they have fallen for a trap

° Techno takes the tiny mouse and tiny bunny boy from his siblings and reunites them with the bird person, they start trying to question the bird man as it's very obvious they can talk (do to the tiny mouse boy swearing like a sailor)

° As the bird man slowly starts to talk Wilbur starts to get attacked with blueberries and Eret sees three more tiny people at the base of the blueberry bush

° Eret carefully picks up the tiny fox, duck, and bunny person so they stop attacking her brother with blueberries

° The three brothers then just sit there awkwardly as the big bird guy who seems to be the eldest of these tiny people starts yelling at them in chirps, well there doing this Eret and Techno just carry the tiny people inside (well Wilbur goes to change his clothes cuz they're staind with blueberries)

° Techno and Eret set the six tiny people down on a pillow on their kitchen table and then properly start asking questions

° they find out all of the tiny's names (Tommy, Philza, Ranboo, Fundy, Niki, and Quackity) and is that the reason they were emerging from the blueberry bush Eret got was that their home had been uprooted with the bush and because they were in a crowded area surrounded by humans they didn't get a chance to properly move before Eret bought there home

° Eret ask the Tiny Family if they possibly want to just stay in their backyard as she's going to use the berry bush to grow a nice small garden and she wouldn't mind them staying there, Philza originally was going to decline but all of his kids instantly start agreeing thinking it would be a great idea

° Techno is then left all alone with the tinys Tommy, Ranboo, Fundy, Niki, and Quackity

° Techno being extremely awkward and not actually wanting to socialize takes the tinys to the living room and puts on a marathon of studio Ghibli movies, he succeeds in distracting everyone so they don't have to talk (he does make them snacks)

° Meanwhile outside Eret, Wilbur, and Philza are very carefully bearing the blueberry bush from its pot into the soil of the garden well also making sure they don't accidentally destroy the tiny's home

° Philza also set some basic rules down for the humans telling them that they're not allowed to just take his kids without telling him and they're especially not allowed to take them aside the house

° Philza realizes these rules will be completely ignored by his children when he goes inside and sees them watching something called "movies" and sees how much his kids enjoy them

° Well everyone else is watching the movies Eret ask Philza to help her decide what she should grow in the garden since his family well also be using probably whatever she grows there for food

° Philza really hopes this humans are nice…

#mcyt g/t #mcyt gt #mcyt g/t community #mcyt gt community #tiny!tommy #tiny!quackity #tiny!phil #tiny!philza #giant!eret #giant!wilbur #giant!technoblade #giant!techno #tiny blueberry bush fam au

[kayla-crazy-stuffs]

I decided to add Techno into my surfer Dream au so, here he is :D

(It's the first time that I draw Techno btw :"])

He's a Narwhal mer :]

#mcyt g/t #mcyt gt #dsmp g/t #dsmp gt #giant!technoblade #giant!techno #mer!techno #narwhal mer!techno #kayla's drawing #surfer!dream au #mermay

[bittydragon]

Birds of a Feather

Notes: Let me preface this by saying dear god I am so so sorry about how late this is. This is my (extremely late) secret santa gift for @2-sleepy-for-this. This was supposed to be done so long ago and I apologize for it taking so long. I do hope you still enjoy this gift! @mcyt-gt-events

Techno leaned against the counter, tapping the counter as he waited for the milk to finish heating up. The chocolate and can of whipped cream were sat nearby and a mixing spoon sat directly next to them.

It didn’t take long for the tell tale sound of the microwave going off and Techno pushed himself away from the counter, taking the three steps to the microwave to grab the now hot milk. He mindlessly grabbed the mug with his uncovered hands, the heat barely affecting him as he had an abundantly high tolerance for heat. Growing up in the Nether and you’d be used to intense heat as well.

Shifting his grip on the mug, placing the hot mug into one hand, he reached over and added the chocolate. With clear practice Techno didn’t look up as he grabbed the spoon and stirred the chocolate in. Once he was positive the chocolate was all melted he let go of the spoon, leaving it sitting in the mug as he grabbed the whipped cream and poured a generous amount on the thick liquid.

Satisfied with his hot beverage he made his way out to the living room. He settled himself on the couch with a happy sigh, bringing the mug up to his mouth and taking a long sip. He relished in the hot feeling it spread throughout him. The cold doesn’t affect him too much but he will never pass up an opportunity to further warm himself up.

As if someone heard that thought, a sudden weight fell onto the top of his head. He barely reacted to the familiar sensation and ignored the intruder, opting for another sip of hot chocolate. He let out a grunt of confusion as whoever landed on his head continued moving around, wings continuously flicking the inside of his ears which was a rather uncomfortable and ticklish feeling. All that his silent question was met with was upset chirping and more squirming.

Techno chuckled and leaned forwards, gently setting the mug down onto the coffee table. He sat back up, subconsciously noticing the squirming had weakened. He knew it wasn’t because the kid was exhausted, the damn kid had too much energy in him to let that of all things tire him. Kid just probably accepted he needed to be rescued.

He lifted his hands up to his head and began gently trying to maneuver the small avian out of his hair. A few minutes of tussling with his hair and a giggling child, he finally managed to get him out of his hair. Techno brought his hands and the small hybrid down to his face, raising an eyebrow at the grinning child in his hands.

“And what do you think you’re doing, Toms?”

Techno let a fond smile grace his face as the kid responded in a giddy laugh mixed in with his happy chirps. Tommy’s bright red wings flapped around a bit, not really taking any action in lifting the cardinal hybrid out of his hands, just flapping in place as he laughed. 

Techno brought a finger up to the kid’s hair and ruffled it gently. Almost immediately Tommy began protesting and trying to push the giant finger away. The piglin’s eyes narrowed as a couple tiny, messy looking feathers fell from the kid’s head.

“Tommy…” Techno sighed as Tommy crossed his arms and looked away, clearly pouting at the situation he found himself in but also looking just a little bit guilty. “Are you trying to get out of a preening session?”

Tommy stayed silent for a couple moments still, looking as if he was debating on actually answering the larger being. He eventually looked up at Techno, guilt clear in his eyes.

“Maybe… but it’s so boring Tech! I just sit there! Besides, I’m a big man. I don’t need any stupid preening sessions.”

Techno gave Tommy an unimpressed look and moved his free hand to the middle of Tommy’s back, gently massaging the small space in between his wings. The piglin hid his smirk and Tommy began to obviously melt into the touch despite trying to hide it.

“You are a big man, I agree. But if you don’t preen your feathers then you can’t fly, and you have to be able to fly to be the biggest man ever, right?”

Tommy nodded to himself before grinning up at Techno. He spread his wings out and puffed out his feathers, doing his best to keep his wings still.

“I am the biggest of men! Preen my wings!”

“Wait, me?” Techno stared down at the kid in shock as the cardinal hybrid eagerly nodded and shifted to be a bit more comfortable in the warm and fuzzy hand he was sitting in. “I may be a little bit too big to do a good job, kid.”

Tommy shrugged. “Then Dad can finish, he’ll be looking for me anyways. But I want you to preen me first!”

Techno quickly accepted the fact that Tommy was definitely correct that Phil would come searching for him and that he would not leave the matter alone until Techno at least tried preening him. So the next few minutes were spent with Techno trying to gently preen Tommy’s feathers as best he could. With his fingers being so large compared to the tiny feathers on the kid’s wings it was far from easy. But he was doing a decent enough job that Tommy seemed relaxed during the whole ordeal.

It only took ten minutes for the tell tale sound of wings flying through the air to be heard throughout the house. Techno glanced up from Tommy’s wings and watched both Phil and Wilbur flew into the room.

Wilbur immediately zipped over as soon as he spotted Tommy, landing on Techno’s palm with ease. Phil followed suit, albeit much slower and opted to perch on Techno’s shoulder instead, giving Tommy a soft glare as he did so.

“Tommy! You have to stop flying off every time we try and do a preening session! You can’t fly from everything you don’t want to do.”

Tommy craned his neck around to give Wilbur a playful glare and stuck his tongue out at the hummingbird, blowing a raspberry at his older brother. Wilbur scrunched his face up in mock disgust and turned his attention to the eldest avian, perched happily on Techno’s shoulder.

“Daaaaaaad, Tommy’s being an ass!”

“Wilbur! What did I say about calling your brother an ass?”

“Yea bitch! No calling me an ass!”

“TOMMY! Uhg, see what I have to deal with Techno? Gremlins, both of them.”

Techno couldn’t help but laugh in agreement with the eldest avian. He watched as Wilbur and Tommy argued for a little longer before Wilbur sighed and positioned himself behind Tommy and began finishing the preening job that Techno started. Based on the pleased trills coming from Wilbur as he inspected Tommy’s wings, Techno figured he did fairly well on the kid’s wings.

Techno eventually did his best to maneuver his free hand towards the coffee table, somehow managing to grab his hot chocolate mug and pull it back towards him. He was happy to note that Wilbur and Tommy basically ignored his movements and sat back against the back of the couch, feeling Phil relax against his neck as he finally stopped moving.

He brought the mug to his mouth and took a long sip, enjoying the chocolatey taste of the hot chocolate. Though if he was honest, it was lukewarm at best now. He must’ve spent more time than he thought preening Tommy’s wings.

Eventually, Techno sat an empty mug down onto the coffee table. He sighed, content at the silence filling the room. Wilbur had long since finished preening Tommy’s wings and the two young avians were curled up together in his free hand. He frowned at how the cold seemed to slowly seep into them and he brought them to his chest, holding them against himself and nearly completely surrounding them in warmth.

The two of them let out a few chirps and attempted to squirm closer to him, not like they really could. Still, it was an adorable sight to behold.

Phil was still pressed up against his neck, burrowed in as far as the crow could get, most of his body surrounded by his soft fur. Techno brought a hand up and gently stroked Phil’s back with his finger, receiving a happy trill and the eldest avian trying to burrow in closer.

Techno sighed and fell back against the couch. The tiny avians had the right idea, a nap sounded wonderful right now. He closed his eyes with a content smile on his face and let himself drift off, knowing that when he woke he’d have his small family with him.

#mcyt gt #mcyt g/t #tiny!tommy #tiny!wilbur #tiny!phil #giant!techno #bitty writes