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jinx-blackout-84 · 9 months

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The Shady Kid From The Alleyway

Chapter 1

Tommy-centric SBI TNTduo Benchtrio fic

Dream stans DNI you won't like this one I made hum a manipulative villain.... like IRL

4016 words

TW for mentions of violence, mentions of blood, and cursing

Anything in slashes are in /italics/

Anything in dashes are -bold-

“Motherfucking fuck!”

Tommy saw a spark jump across his hand before he felt it. He snapped his hand away from the piece of metal in his hands that he was trying to install a computer chip in.

He picked it back up, sighing and glancing at the clock.

2:32 AM

His eyes were heavy, threatening to fall closed as he sat in his apartment’s kitchen. Picking up a screwdriver and the computer chip, he went back to fiddling with the metal gauntlet he had been staring at for the better part of four hours.

Does he sleep, or finish the gauntlet?

He weighed the two options in his head before conceding to finish the gauntlet on the grounds that he wouldn’t sleep anyways.

The light above the table reflected into his exhaustion-glassy eyes as he finished installing the microchip, leaving him with only a few pieces left to do. He first checked that a simple code Tubbo had written would work when run through the chip, activating a simple digital motor that would open one of the flasks attached to the gauntlet’s side, which would later be used to store gasoline to help Tubbo, in his words, “make arson more efficient, don’t you want my arson to be efficient, Tommy?”

Tubbo’s ability, the ability to conduct heat and electricity, made setting fires very easy for him even without the gasoline, which Tommy mentioned and was then debated by Tubbo. Do not debate Tubbo.

Tommy called over to the couch where insomniac Tubbo was pretending to sleep while Ranboo watched TV.

“We’re patrolling tomorrow, right?”

“Should be unless you fall off of a roof again. Think you can get that gauntlet done by tomorrow so I can code it?”

“Yeah, I just have to get a few panels screwed in and hook up the other digital motors and we should be good.”

“Awesome, let me know when you finish it up.”

“Yup, by the way, how’s the coding for my boots going?”

“Pretty shit.”

“Bugs?”

“Nope, just some new mechanics I don’t quite understand yet.”

Ranboo, enthralled moments ago by a documentary about art forgery, said, “He threw his computer at the wall earlier and I had to teleport it onto the bed so he wouldn’t break it.”

“I also had an English test today so I don’t want to hear it. That shit is difficult,” Tubbo grumbled.

“No, no, he has a point,” Tommy agreed. English was his worst subject back when he was in school.

Tommy chewed on the inside of his cheek as he hooked up a few wires from one of the motors to the CPU.

He slipped his hand into the gauntlet, flexing his fingers a few times before throwing it at Tubbo, who caught it without looking. Tommy was impressed.

“Try it on to see if it fits,” he said to Tubbo

Tubbo snarked back at him “Nope, it’s three sizes too small.”

Tommy threatened to make the gauntlet fit; and after watching Tubbo try on the gauntlet to make sure it fit, nodded, extremely proud of himself for being the most intelligent person to ever exist.

The stuffy air in the apartment was stale, and since it was not too cold outside, Tommy decided he needed some air, calling out to Tubbo and Ranboo,

“Hey, I’m heading up to the roof”

"Okay, don’t die again, thanks,” Ranboo replied, and Tubbo gave a thumbs-up.

Tommy opened the grimy window and pulled himself out onto the fire escape, which creaked concerningly under his weight. Scaling the rusted metal with expertise gained by years of practice, he finally got his hand over the upper lip of the apartment building’s roof.

The wind was quite harsh, cold against Tommy’s face, but not unwelcome after being at the table working on the gauntlet for so long. As he sat back on his hands, three things happened.

First, Tommy’s hand supporting his weight slid into a puddle and out from under him. Gross. Roof puddle.

Second, Tommy heard a scream from a nearby alleyway.

Third, he fell off the roof, directly into the alley the scream had come from.

“MOTHERFUCKER” He screeched, trying to throw out his hands to use his power.

A sudden gust of wind slowed his fall considerably, but hitting the concrete hurt like a bitch, which he said.

“That hurt like a bitch.”

“Looked like it,” A gruff and oddly robotic voice answered.

Tommy spun around quickly, making eye contact with a towering man. A man with a red cape and pig mask.

“Nope. I think the fuck not. I’m going back to my apartment. Fuck no.” Tommy said with conviction.

Just as he turned to leave, the man’s hand caught his hood, turning him around.

There was something cold under his chin, Tommy realized. Ah, it was a sword. Wonderful.

“You can’t just leave,” the man drawled “How do I know you won’t report me?”

“I promise that you, The Blood God, SBI and syndicate member, highest kill count villain, can handle being reported,” Tommy pointed out, before his brain could tell him to please shut the fuck up.

“You’re pretty mouthy for a hostage.” The Blood God drawled

After a moment of thinking, Tommy added “Please do not stab me. I do not have health insurance.”

“I am probably not going to stab you, just,” The Blood God pressed the heel of his hand against his forehead, “need a second to think.”

“Who screamed just now?” Tommy’s shoulders relaxed upon receiving the news that he was not to be stabbed, “was it you? Did you fall off of one of the roofs?”

After saying this, Tommy noticed a massive pool of blood below his feet.

“Oh, never mind,” he said cheerfully.

The Blood God sighed. He did not get paid enough for this. “Look, kid-”

“Fuck you I’m 16”

“-just, I don’t know, let me knock you out.”

“In a dirty alleyway? I cannot afford to be sick right now, bitch, and I probably already have AIDS from standing in this blood so thank you for that.”

Tommy tensed to run out of the alley, not liking his odds if he tried, but liking his odds if he got knocked out less.

“Okay, then just stay here or something. You can't get past me anyways."

"You can't hold me here, that's child abduction," Tommy said matter-of-factly.

He could maybe yell for Tubbo? Maybe Ranboo could teleport him out?

"Ah, well you see, as a criminal, I am hardly concerned about what is or is not a crime." The Bitch God responded.

Ah. The Bitch God had a point, Tommy conceded

Well. Tommy knew more than all men because he was far cooler than them, he decided.

Tommy said this to The Blood God, who looked down at him with disdain. The Blood God then tapped the side of his mask and spoke into it, "Yeah, so I found a kid," he paused, "Yup in the alleyway with me, no I cannot kill him. Yes we are still meeting here."

Tommy watched him, curious, and said, "who are you talking to?"

Okay. Shit. Tommy had to get out of this. How could he get out of this.

"None of your business," The Blood God replies

Tubbo and Ranboo were out of the question because The Blood God had heightened reflexes and would not hesitate to kill Tommy before Ranboo could teleport him out.

“Just tell me," Tommy protested

"You're like a toddler," The Blood God said, pinching his nosebridge.

"I AM NOT, BITCH," Tommy said, defending his honor against The Blood God's deceit.

"FINE I was talking to the rest of the Syndicate," The Blood God replied.

"You said they were coming here. Are you going to kill me?"

"Yes," the Blood God deadpanned.

Tommy hoped that was a joke "well good luck, I am the coolest and biggest man ever."

The Blood God looked over at him, raising his eyebrows and dropping the sword to his side.

Tommy’s posture relaxed the moment the sword was removed from his throat.

He felt the air in his fingers and imagined pulling it all towards him. The air pressure suddenly grew and he shot upwards, flying high enough he could've grabbed the top of the building if he hadn't been pulled back to the ground. Fuck.

Tommy hit the ground for the second time that night, and felt a thud reverberate through his ribs. They were for sure gonna kill him now. Panic clutched Tommy’s chest, though he tried not to let it show.

He heard an impressed whistle behind him.

Turning around, Tommy saw a large pair of wings and shining green eyes. Oh shit. The Raven.

"This the kid?" The man spoke and it had the same robotic sound as the Blood God’s. Voice changers then.

"Yep. Annoying as fuck, too," the Blood God Replied.

"You don’t want to do this" Tommy said, panic in his eyes.

"Ah, I see what you mean, mate, but he's just scared" The Raven replied.

"Oh no, he's very bitchy for a hostage. Give him a minute to get his attitude back." The Blood God said.

Tommy flicked his eyes over The Raven, trying to size him up under the cloak he wore.

And then, Tommy heard a snicker from the entrance of the alleyway.

And holy shit.

Tommy's favorite villain.

Mercury.

Mercury who could make anyone do his bidding with just a word. Who had never been apprehended, who fought with a smoothness Tommy had tried to emulate for years. Holy shit.

Mercury spoke, "so you can fly?"

"Well, sort of," Tommy said.

"What's your mutation?" Mercury asked.

"I can’t just tell you that" Tommy said.

Mercury rolled his eyes. "Well I can make you tell me, what is it?"

"Air pressure control."

The Blood God's eyes widened incrementally and he said, "damn."

"Do you have strong control?" Mercury questioned.

"Usually."

"Damn. That's a strong power." The Blood God said.

"I don't know, I can just jump around and fly a little"

"Then you're not using it right" Zephyrus said.

"Huh? Don't tell me how to use my powers bitch!" Tommy yelled, indignant.

"Oh, there's the attitude," The Blood God said.

Shit. He let his tongue get away from him. Shit he was dead. He got lower to the ground, pulling an exacto knife out of his hoodie pocket. It wasn’t much, but it might work if he was lucky.

Mercury snickered "Is that an Exacto knife?"

The Blood God began to speak "You’re gonna need more than tha-"

The crackle of a radio attached to The Raven's hip cut him off, and all of them fell silent to listen to it

“Hey, you need to get out of there, someone reported you.”

Three faces turned to Tommy.

"How would I report you? I left my phone inside. Plus, I would rather /not/ help the heroes if I have the choice. " He said.

"What do you mean, mate?" The Raven asked.

"They're not as great as everyone says. Even I know that, and I didn't even finish high school," Tommy muttered

"Huh, you an anarchist?" The Blood God asked.

"Not an anarchist, just a hero-anti I guess. I mean I could care less, they protect us in Logstedchire about the same amount as they would if they weren't here. Dosen't matter much if they're around or not," Tommy shrugged.

"Huh," The Raven said.

Mercury spoke into his mask, but there was something different in his voice than when he spoke to Tommy, “Hey Ace, can you figure out who reported us?”

The radio crackled again, “I mean I can try.”

"Well," Mercury said, "that's our cue. Bye kid"

He watched as Zephyrus took off carrying The Blood God, spiraling into the sky. Mercury used some smoke bombs on his belt to cloud the alleyway, gone by the time the smoke dissipated.

Tommy did not want to be in the alleyway. It was full of diseases and blood.

He walked through the entrance to the apartment building, disheveled and tired, and decided to think about that interaction later.

He then walked back through his apartment door, Tubbo's head popping up to look at him.

"Why didn't you come in through the fire escape?" Tubbo asked.

Shit. He needed a good lie.

"Fell off the fuckin roof again," Tommy grumbled.

Ranboo spoke, muffled by the pillow his face was squished into, "called it."

"Why is there blood on your shoes?" Tubbo questioned.

"I dunno man, there was blood in the alleyway." Tommy said.

"You're suspect."

Tommy grumbled some more.

He glamced at the clock

3:31

"I'm going to fuckin bed."

"Not until you shower," Tubbo said, "You have that interview tomorrow"

"Fuckin fine." Tommy replied.

---------

Wilbur tapped his pencil against his notebook as he sat criss-cross in his bed.

He had sheets of paper strewn around him, trying to draft a song he had been writing for awhile, but he couldn't think.

He couldn't seem to focus on the song when every time he blinked he remembered how that kid had looked at him. Something in the kid struck Wilbur as familiar, and he looked at his Mercury mask sitting on his bedside table.

Eventually, he gave up on trying to write new lyrics, knowing it was a fruitless effort.

He walked into the kitchen, seeing the clock sitting in the corner of the kitchen.

4:13 AM

He rubbed his eyes as he grabbed a glass, jumping when he saw a looming figure enter the kitchen. Techno's pink hair looked orange in the low light that shone through the kitchen.

"Couldn't sleep?" Techno asked.

"Couldn't stop thinking about that kid," wilbur replied, filling up his glass with ice cubes.

"Reminded me of you, you know," Technoblade said.

"That's funny. He made me think of you," Wilbur replied

----------

Tommy had not slept. He had laid in bed staring at the roof, which was so familiar by now that he thinks he could point out a new crack or stain instantly.

The room had been quiet, and Tommy's mind had made up for it, turning his interaction with the villains over in his head over and over again.

He eventually dragged himself out of bed, looking to the red numbers on the clock

4:47 AM

Tomorrow was Wednesday. Well, technically it was already Wednesday, but he didn't have to be at the interveiw till 11 AM. Shuffling around the kitchen for a moment, he sat down at the table with a mug of coffee and opened his laptop.

It was old, but it worked well enough as he tried to model some peices for printing on the 3d printer him and Tubbo had built shortly after becoming vigilantes.

He was making a new mask for Ranboo with night and thermal vision and a voice changer. He and Tubbo already had voice changers, but the pieces for thermal and night vision were too expensive for them to all have it, so he gave it to Ranboo, the least likely to break it. Tubbo shouldn't have to code this one much, so maybe if tommy could make it quickly enough Ranboo could have it by Saturday.

He worked on the rims of the goggles, making sure they were proportionate and would fit Ranboo, before sending the file off to the printer to realize.

The clock blinked.

5:34 AM.

Tommy blinked.

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

The carpet in the waiting room had a stain in it, Tommy noticed. The rest of the carpet was an even grey, but the stain was red-brown. Gross.

It was 10:49

He was fiddling with the spacebar on his laptop as he tried to focus back onto a new support tech item he was supposed to be designing was a dart gun that you didn’t have to reload.

His current idea, the darts were stacked into the gun like toothpicks in a toothpick holder. It could probably shoot about five times between reloads. This was unrelated to the fact that Tommy had accidentally stabbed himself with a dart in the middle of a fight and passed out six times to date. He didn’t need help reloading a dart gun. He just thought it would be cool. Yup.

He rubbed his hand over the band-aid under his chin from The Blood God’s blade. He considered the interaction. Why hadn’t the villains killed him? Why did The Blood God say his power was strong? Tommy heard footsteps and snapped his laptop shut. Someone came out of a door to his left his glasses, with odd red and blue lenses, caught on the fluorescent light. His nametag read “Jack.”

The man nodded at him, asking “You Thomas Innit?”

“Yup.”

“Awesome, your interview is this way, follow me.”

Tommy trailed after Jack, tempted to ask about the glasses.

“Hey, why are your glasses like that?” Tommy paused, “not to be rude. Sorry.”

“Nah you’re good mate. It’s part of my power. I can vaguely see people’s emotions based on color, and the glasses help to get rid of it. It’s kind of distracting and feels like an invasion of privacy so I like having them but I don’t have to wear them,” Jack explained.

“Dude that’s fuckin’ awesome,” Tommy replied, faltering. “Am I allowed to say that here?”

“I mean I would avoid saying it in front of Bad but yeah,” Jack said.

“Awesome.”

They came up to a door and Tommy took a deep breath.

“Nervous?” Jack asked kindly.

“Fuckin’ terrified” Tommy replied with a huffed laugh.

“Well, I’ll put in a good word for you.”

“Thanks, big man.”

“Oh, I never said my word meant anything, I’m just an assistant,” Jack smiled.

“Still nice to know I’ve got at least one of you bastards on my side.”

Jack smiled again and walked away.

Tommy pushed open the door.

The first thing he noticed was not the floor-to-ceiling windows or the giant desk.

It was the man’s eyes.

They were a bright green, cold and calculating as they watched the door.

He also noticed how they widened in shock when he saw Tommy.

Tommy looked at his shirt to make sure he didn’t have something on it. He knew it wasn’t a suit or anything fancy but he tried to dress up a little and wore a collared shirt with jeans.

By the time Tommy looked up, the man had regained his composure, and the confidence on his face made Tommy wonder if he had even seen the man’s shock at all.

He walked into the room a bit further.

“Hello, Thomas,” The man spoke, with warmth in his voice as his glare softened into a more laid-back type of playfulness “Please sit. You’re here for the interview, correct?”

Tommy sat, and when he spoke, he did not drawl his words, giving them a crisp lightness, “Yes, I’m glad you could make time to meet with me.”

“My name is Philza and I will be interviewing you for a job as a Tech Department Manager," The man said.

Philza looked at Tommy and spoke, "what makes you qualified for this job, Thomas?"

"I think you can see that for yourself, Big man," Tommy said.

Philza smiled.

"Yes," he picked up Tommy's resume, "I can see you have a degree in Engineering from L'manburg Technology and Mathematics University. by the way, how old were you when you graduated high school?"

"Oh," Tommy paused, "I was fifteen."

This, Tommy knew, was a lie. He had no degree, had never finished high school.

You know, the kind of stuff that happens when you were supposed to be dead.

"Now, these are unusual circumstances because our last technology manager was killed by villains, and we currently have no one on staff that could take over the job.”

Tommy nodded to show he was listening. Now, I’ve read over your resume, and It’s impressive, I’m not going to lie, especially for a, oh how old were you?”

“Eighteen, nineteen in a month or so.”

Philza smiled sharply. “Ah, yes, how could I have forgotten. So, you were emancipated at sixteen, correct?”

Tommy nodded.

“Yes, I had a rough home life, so I applied for emancipation. I think this job could help.me get my footing.”

“It’s not an easy process, takes some determination,”

Philza said, ignoring Tommy’s attempt to change the subject.

“It’s easier when It’s the only way you’ll make it to eighteen,” Tommy said with false calm, letting some of his Upper L’manburg accent slip, quickly adjusting his voice to have the definitive posh lilt.

Philza backed down.

“So,” Philza said, grinning, “Why this job?”

Tommy leaned back in the chair. He could do interviews now that the questions about his past were over. “Well,” he began “I think I have a fitting skillset and could flourish in this position,” he ignored as his brain made a that’s what she said joke, “I think I could be an asset and I have been working in technology and engineering since I was sixteen. I am responsible and work well in leadership and would love to collaborate with the people here to produce new and innovative designs to improve the-” he faltered for a moment, “the capabilities and influence of heroes,” He finished.

Boom, Perfect answer, Tommy thought to himself.

“Huh. Okay then mate,” Philza paused, leveling his eyes to meet Tommy’s again and he felt himself pierced by the viridian gaze.

Philza continued, “What do you think about heroes, Thomas?”

Tommy paused. “Well, they keep the community safe and help to stop villain attacks and are wonderful role models. If I had a better Mutation, I would want to be one, but I just aspire to represent them as much as I can in my day-to-day life,” Tommy lied, talking with his hands like the people in upper L’manburg. “I think they do a great job of showing how we can all come together to prote-” Philza put a hand up, “Cut the shit” Tommy balked, “I beg your pardon?” Philza made eye contact with him

"Your accent is good," Philza said.

"Pardon?" Tommy asked.

"The accent's great, but Upper L'manburg citizens talk with their hands. Yours were in your lap the whole time."

Tommy froze.

"You can cut the shit, mate," Philza said.

“What are you suggesting?” Tommy asked, a threat veiled as politeness.

“I think you know exactly what I’m suggesting, Thomas,” Philza said evenly, pausing, “I want to know your opinions on heroes. Say what you think not just recite some news article from Upper L’manburg to me.”

“Well, I am entirely indebted to the heroes of L’manbur-”

Philza set his hand down on the table, not slamming it, but hard enough to make a noise.

Tommy flinched, watching as Philza stored that information.

“I said cut the shit.”

Tommy laughed, letting his accent fall away. “Okay, you want to know what I think of heroes? I think that if they cared about my side of L’manburg, like Logstedchire and theFarlands half as much as they do the center district and Upper district, then L’manburg would be crime free. Instead, I have face-to-face encounters with the villains they’ve sworn as their enemies in alleyways full of blood while they’re off saving some millionaire’s watch so they can put it on the fucking news. I think if they really want vigilantes gone, they should do their goddamn job so teenagers and non-trained citizens in masks don’t have to do it for them. I think I should be able to sleep through the night in my Logstedchire apartment without being woken by fucking gunshots. I think they do it for the money and the fame and spit on anyone who dares question them. That’s what I FUCKING think.”

Philza looked at him with something Tommy couldn’t decipher. “We’ll call you to let you know if you got the job,” he said, no tells of any emotion in his voice.

Fuck. Tommy had needed this job and he had gone and fucked it up.

God fucking damn it.

Tommy passed Jack on the way out, who gave him a questioning look, and Tommy shook his head slightly.

Jack’s shoulders sagged. He gave him a sad nod and waved as Tommy left.

Tommy waved back, holding back tears.

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ao3feed-crimeboys · 2 years

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we are not family, we’re hardly even friends.

by normalpeople

“How much room d’ya have in that backpack?” He asked. The boy thought for a moment. “A lot.”

“Get to packing, c'mon hurry up.” Wilbur ordered before stepping back outside, ducking behind the railing and bringing out his gun. A group of guys were making their way over to where him and the kid were. He could hear the boy shoving things into his backpack. Wilbur pointed his gun at one of the guys, waiting.

They were laughing and rounding shots into the air like it was funny to them. Wilbur’s gut turned, he definitely didn’t have bullets to waste. It was another useless fight.

“You done kid?” He echoed.

The boy let out a faint gawk and peeked from the window. “Mhm.”

“Cmon, let’s go.” Wilbur jumped down the building, landing in the soft snow. The boy followed, almost losing his footing. —

OR a SBI Rust fic because I miss rust crimeboys and wilbur promised us rust??? where is it mr.soot ^-^.

Words: 3294, Chapters: 1/5, Language: English

Fandoms: Dream SMP

Rating: Not Rated

Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence

Categories: Gen

Characters: Wilbur Soot, TommyInnit (Video Blogging RPF), Phil Watson (Video Blogging RPF), Toby Smith | Tubbo, Ranboo (Video Blogging RPF), Niki | Nihachu, and more

Relationships: Wilbur Soot & TommyInnit, Toby Smith | Tubbo & TommyInnit, Ranboo & TommyInnit (Video Blogging RPF), Ranboo & Toby Smith | Tubbo & Wilbur Soot & Technoblade & TommyInnit & Phil Watson, Niki | Nihachu & Ranboo

Additional Tags: Protective Wilbur Soot, Mental Health Issues, Alternate Universe - Apocalypse, SBI Rust, Blood and Violence, Gunshot Wounds, BAMF TommyInnit (Video Blogging RPF), Wilbur Soot is Not Okay, tommy is gonna give him grey hair, Hurt/Comfort

source https://archiveofourown.org/works/38965518

#IFTTT #ao3feed #wilbur soot #tommyinnit #crimeboys #crime boys #crimebois #crime bois #mcyt

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dreamsclock · 3 years

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another fic, red run cold, is up!!! it’s about tommy and wilbur’s characters in their rust server — i had a lotta fun writing this!!

“Wilbur,” Tommy says earnestly one night, “play me a song. You haven’t in ages.”

Wilbur thinks of his guitar, collecting dust under an old blanket, and of his hands, which shake too much to ever play it again. He doesn’t mention this to Tommy. Instead, he smiles.

“Let me teach you a song,” he says instead, and watches Tommy’s face light up.

[Or, Wilbur is dying. He is determined to give Tommy something to live for after he’s gone.]

[Or, an exploration of Wilbur and Tommy’s characters in their new Rust server.]

READ IT HERE!!!

#mcyt #wilbur soot #dream smp fic #tommy innit #tommyinnit #dream smp #sbi rust fic #sbi rust #-> my posts !!#> my writing !!

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smp-live · 3 years

Text

The apocalypse happened a few years ago. And- it's vague, the apocalypse. It's not some big earth-shattering moment. It's confused tv reports and impulse decisions and little growing bits of tension until the pot boils over.

The details are fuzzy; it all happened so quickly that many civilians were left unaware of what exactly went down. One day, they were living, and the next, most weren't.

Nukes, EMPs, solar flares - the survivors find it doesn't matter. One way or another, the world ended, millions died, and everything’s different. Hostile. Harsh. Unforgiving. The sun is bright and searing, and radiation burns skin not covered head-to-toe.

People are cruel and will take advantage of anything they can. If you're not a part of an already-existing group, good luck.

Somehow, two men end up on a wooden pallet floating in the middle of the ocean. Maybe it was a plane crash, one of the few still running downed by a stray shot; maybe a boat capsized, embrittled by the radiation. Same as the apocalypse, it doesn't matter. What does is that now they’re surrounded by debris and a shark thirsting for blood and there’s one thing they both know: trust no-one.

So they don’t. Names hold power, as they’ve learnt over the past few years; names imply trust. When it becomes apparent they’re stuck together and the time comes to introduce themselves, the elder of the two stares out to sea and says, “Call me...” And that phrase brings back memories of a book he’d read long ago, in the Before Days, and so he finishes, “Ishmael.”

The younger panics and blurts out the first thing that comes to mind: “I’m Gunk.”

‘Ishmael’ raises a skeptical eyebrow, clearly amused. “Gunk,” he repeats. And ‘Gunk’ nods, crosses his arms.

“Yeah, bitch. It’s...” his mind blanks, “Russian.”

Ishmael’s brow climbs further, and he looks on the verge of laughing, lips twisting ever-so-slightly upward. “Last name?”

“Uh,” Gunk wracks his brain, and something from a history class, years ago, stands out. Nearly forgotten amongst all the useless information - what he calls anything that doesn’t directly contribute to survival, nowadays - and only clinging on through his brain classifying it as ‘important’ for God-knows-why. “Gorbachov.”

“Like... Michael Gorbachov?” There’s a hint of laughter in Ishmael’s tone now, the first in a while. He tries not to let that thought depress him.

Gunk nods, relieved at the reminder of the rest of the name, even if he still can’t place it. “Yeah. He was my father.”

“Michael Gorbachov, eighth and final leader of Soviet Russia, was your father,” Ishmael deadpans, and, frustrated at having been outplayed, Gunk scowls.

“What of it?” he challenges, which makes Ishmael laugh, throwing his head back to the blistering sun high above.

“Okay, Gunk,” he says, and yet it doesn’t feel patronizing.

They both know the other is lying, that much is obvious from the constant teasing and jokes about Gunk’s ‘father.’ But it doesn’t matter, because in the slow turning of the days, they grow close. After all, there’s not much to do on a makeshift raft in the middle of the ocean, other than chat.

Ishmael is handy, and the main reason for their survival. He knows how to purify water and fillet a fish, how to add on to their raft without nails and swim against the ocean current. Gunk wonders where he picked all that up, but never asks.

(A survivalist father and paranoid brother, whom Ishmael hasn’t seen in half a decade. The thought that they’re probably still alive brings him comfort.)

Gunk, on the other hand, does most of the grunt work. Fishing in debris that floats by, diving down for rocks when they briefly dock, and the ever-important duty of keeping the shark they named Clive from destroying their miserly raft. He keeps up a steady stream of chatter through it all, and Ishmael thinks that’s what makes the monumental effort to go on worth it. Then, he wonders when he let himself get attached.

(It was a week or so in, when Gunk had fashioned himself a shelf out of the bottom of a storage bin and some planks, and proclaimed it his ‘comfort shelf.’ Gunk felt the same when Ishmael didn’t tell him to dismantle it, only pushed it aside, even though they were supposed to use that wood to repair Clive’s last attack.)

They survive, they grow closer, they hesitantly trust, and yet, they don’t pry. They don’t share their real names. Not until one day.

Ishmael goes swimming out to a nearby island to scavenge for food and chop down a few trees, if he can manage. Gunk stays on the ship - an anchor is next on their to-do list, and so he’s responsible for keeping it from drifting off with his tiny paddle. Except it’s not well-crafted, and grey jaws reach up to snap at the wood he’s standing on so he uses it to stab Clive, and the tip breaks off. The raft starts drifting away.

“Ishmael!” he calls, then again, louder, “Ishmael! Fuck, man!” But he’s nowhere to be seen, and the current is dragging Gunk awfully far out from the island.

He keeps calling, shouting, screaming, increasingly panicked at leaving his friend, the man who’d helped him survive for months, now, behind. Until his voice grows hoarse the way it never did from rambling for hours on end, and a little speck appears on the beach of the island.

Ishmael waves widely at him, and he must be shouting but Gunk can’t hear it over the lapping of the waves. So he assumes what was said, hollers, “I can’t fuckin’ come back, arsehole!” and raises the remains of the paddle over his head to clarify.

The speck stills, then bursts into motion, tossing everything he’s holding aside and shucking his shoes. Gunk can practically hear him mutter about what an “ridiculous child” he is, because although they’ve never shared their ages Ishmael’s decided he’s the elder of the two, which obviously means Gunk is a child.

And then Ishmael dives into the water, and he’s closing the distance between himself and the raft with each stroke. He cuts a straight line through the waves, until he suddenly swerves to the left. Gunk is confused a moment, before he notices - a grey fin jutting out of the water next to him.

Clive goes in for another pass, then another, and Ishmael jukes him out both times. He’s maybe five meters away, now, but the shark is coming back so Gunk screams. But Ishmael’s head is underwater, and he doesn’t hear. Just keeps going, towards safety he won't make it to.

Clive barrels into him. Ishmael vanishes underwater.

He doesn’t come back up.

Gunk is diving in before he can properly think, pushing past the cold shock of the sea, as he uses his self-taught skills to bring him to where he guesses Ishmael last was. Then, he takes a deep breath, squeezes his eyes shut, and goes under.

After a nervewracking few moments, his elbow bumps into something and he latches on, desperately dragging it upwards. They break the surface and he gasps for breath, Ishmael limp against him.

The trip back is agonizing. Ishmael is deadweight, their clothes are waterlogged, and Gunk has never been the best swimmer. But Clive is still lurking, and he refuses to drown after all this time, so he manages to drag them both back to the raft through pure willpower and spite.

Gunk collapses next to where he’d heaved Ishmael onto the planks, taking a second to compose himself. Shivering violently, he curls into a ball - he'll have to go for a spare change of clothes. His eyes drift shut. In a moment.

Then, panic seizes his heart as he becomes aware of how still Ishmael is. He jerks up, staring at him, searching for any sign of life, anything-

But a moment later he relaxes, when Ishmael rolls over and starts heaving out saltwater. Gunk reaches over and pats him on the back until it subsides, and he falls back onto the wood.

“You,” Ishmael says, letting his eyes flutter shut, “are so stupid.”

Gunk feels a burst of indignation. “Hey, what the fuck! I just saved your dumbass, Ish-ma-el.” He scowls at Ishmael’s placid little twist of the lips.

“Wilbur,” he murmurs, hands folded over his chest.

“What?”

“My name is Wilbur.”

Oh.

“I’m Tommy,” he says after a moment of silence where it sinks in, what he’d just been told, the trust laid on him, and then lays down next to Ishmael - Wilbur, now.

Wilbur just hums and wraps an arm under his shoulders, tugging him close - which is new; they’re really going all-in with this trust thing, huh? - then says, “So, so stupid.”

“Oi,” Tommy protests, but leans in closer.

Things aren’t really visibly different, after that. They still bicker, still do the same daily tasks, still slip up and call each other ‘Ishmael’ and ‘Gunk’ - though it becomes less and less common, other than with a teasing tone. They finally get their anchor, which means Tommy has the chance to go on land; though he quickly grows to dislike it after an incident with a particularly pissed-off boar.

To an outsider, everything remains the same. But to the inhabitants of the raft, it feels different. More homely. Warmer.

Once, after Wilbur chides Tommy over something or another, Tommy rolls his eyes and says, “You know, we really are like brothers.” He tries to keep his tone joking, and to not let himself hope for the words to be true.

Wilbur freezes. “Don’t say that; I’ll cry.” He blinks once to keep the tears at bay, and tries to push down the warmth in his chest.

(They both fail.)

About four months in, a light appears in the distance, at night. They angle their sail towards it and the dark shadow on the horizon. A few days later, it becomes apparent what it is: a lighthouse.

Inhabited land. Civilization.

They gather their meagre supplies once they dock, then ditch the raft in favour of climbing the lighthouse. And, from the top, off over a hill, Wilbur spots it first, points it out to his brother, who squints-

A Dome.

#wilbur soot #tommyinnit #Fic #enderspeak #sbi rust #crimeboys #Love how we all saw that stream and went #''Yes. Those are the Rust boys.''#Also I can't write anymore apparently. Pain

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dyinginlava · 3 years

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Some SBI Rust fics for @theonewhocallsthemselfnight (sorry it took a while, sorta forgot)

the rust on our hands

Rusty Boys

what would I do without you at my side?

metal corrodes with copper rust clinging to it, but that doesn’t have to be a bad thing

all my friends

#mcyt #sbi fanfic #sbiblr #sleepy bois inc #sbi rust #fic dealer

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rebelpeas · 2 years

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i want to do something with the vibes that rust has so bad

#dee talks #like probably wouldn’t write rust fic bc sbi rust itself doesn’t have enough characters to grab me for anything more than a oneshot #im not a crimeboys main they don’t hold my attention for anything longer than that #but just. mmmmm. scavenger apocalyptic vibes. it’s good shit

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mcmactictac · 2 years

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Me? Actually posting updates? I know it’s exciting for me too

https://archiveofourown.org/works/35728948/chapters/92254615

Now we spice it up and we get some Techno POV’s in here! I’ve got a dteam side plot that I’m super excited about that is now officially underway, so stay tuned for that!

Also we just hit 30k words! Yay! Looking at my chapter outlines we probably have a lot further to go so if you like sbi fics! Boy oh boy do I have one for you

#sbi #sbi fanfic #i just saw sbi rust in the tags here god that makes me sad #Tommy centric fic #shameless self promo #dsmp fic #dream smp fanfiction #crimeboys fanfic #i don’t know what else to tell you guys I’m very clearly a fan of 3/4 of these characters #Phil is complex and interesting and fun to write but that does not mean I like his character in this <3

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fridgeza · 3 years

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i would like to thank @cowboy-sapnap for liking a fuckton of my posts in a row. i see you. i love you.

#shark and gho found family speedrun #where is my logstedshire fic where its just ghostshark and me hmmmm??#where is my sbi rust cult fic with me and shark huh???#we r tommy and wilbur but better bc we arent men #<3 #/j #shark tag 🦈

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conarcoin · 2 years

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writing for a mostly lost series is so hard like am i being canon compliant 🥲

#anyways i love the one (1) sbirust ty fic but i dont like that it doesnt include milo whatsoever so this one includes milo #but all of milo and ty’s sbi rust streams are gone so. i am just winging it here. and using the barebones wiki and my memory from jan 2021 #the best i can

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sillyboi-inc · 5 months

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the amount of burs i could make out any wilbur soot piece of media, so i now will be giving my list and their sources \(^o^)/

(most of these are from random videos of his)

1. simpbur (your new boyfriend)

2. incelbur (the internet ruined me)

3. Ebur (im in love with an egirl)

4. softbur (softboy)

5. ARG/argbur (wilbur soot’s ARG)

6. catbur/dogbur (my random headcanons)

7. lmanbur (when wil was president on the dsmp)

8. q! wilbur (qsmp wilb)

9. revivedbur (wilbur after getting revived)

10. ghostbur (when wilbur was dead and in the limbo)

11. vilbur/pogbur (before wilbur died, but after schlatt took over and kicked him out of manburg)

12. c! wilbur/alivebur (when he first joined the dsmp)

13. ycgmabur (based off wilburs album your city gave me asthma)

14. msrbur (a very sad bur based off his album mammalian sighing reflex)

15. godbur/100pbur (based off his 100 players ‘series’)

16. raftbur/ishmael isaac(when wilbur played raft with tomz)

17. mulebur (when he trapped tubbo in his basement and sold mule bits, in tommys minecraft weather mod video)

18. tiptup (when wilbur play geoguesser)

19. sorrybur/s!bur (sorry boys wilbur)

20. phantombur (origin SMP with his phantom powers)

21. cc! wilbur (content creator wilbur so just regular wilbur)

22. modbur (literally every time he uses mods)

23. lvjybur (when he does tour/conserts/makes music with lovejoy)

24. rustbur (when he played rust w sbi)

25. zombur (we survived a zombie apocalypse video)

26. wimpfred (his character in we spent 100 days in hardcore minecraft apocalypse)

27. wilma (his fem version on the sorry boys)

28. dark wolf/cultbur (sorry boys ep4 we started a cult)

29. daynjer boy (wilburs chaotic/risk taking character/side)

30. draq’thar, killer of men (wilburs “no haircut til my new song comes out” stream where he wore a wig)

31. dr. malpractice (from toms minecraft surgery video when wilbur would steal everyones organs)

32. ylylbur (when wilbur did you laugh you lose)

33. skybur (when wilbur played sky block)

34. smallbur (when wilbur was really small in the size mod video)

35. sogbur/wetbur (when wilbur, george, and tommy went to the water park)

36. drugbur (when him and tommy had the drug van)

37. earthbur (when he did earth smp)

38. youngbur (when wilbur made videos when he was younger)

39. decaybur (minecraft but the world is rapidly decaying)

40. rockbur (minecraft but i leave a trail of bedrock)

41. livebur (wilbur doing smp live)

42. boringbur (maybe i was boring)

43. sandbur (when wilbur bugged philza about sand)

44. flowerbur (when wilbur would go on servers as ‘flowergirl86’ [or smth idr :,)] and tell people he was friends with techno)

45. voicebur (when him, phil, quackity, and tommy did the voice mod)

46. bodbur (body shuffle mod)

47. ao3bur (when wilbur tweeted about his fic on ao3 and was upset when it got hacked)

48. winbur/crownbur (when quackity won him and wilbur the crown in mc championship)

49. salmonbur (when wilbur was w sally and gave philza the 8 buckets of salmon)

THOSE ARE ALL MY BURS FOR NOW ITS 2 IN THE MORNING 😭

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waddei · 2 years

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no y'know what? I'll never forgive this fandom for the lack of dimension travel fics. we have docens of posible already stablished timelines to merge together (dsmp, osmp, rust, smpe, the SBI family dinamic universe, the one off bits like arginnit)

and still!!! theres so little content!!

#wddy #mcytblr

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ao3feed-crimeboys · 1 year

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What a world

by Afrogyworld

Top villans who hat the government find a locked up kid (aka tommy)sbi and go mine

This is my first fic so please me nice

Words: 848, Chapters: 1/1, Language: English

Fandoms: Minecraft (Video Game)

Rating: Not Rated

Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings

Characters: TommyInnit (Video Blogging RPF), Phil Watson | Philza, Wilbur Soot, Technoblade (Video Blogging RPF)

Relationships: Wilbur Soot & Technoblade & TommyInnit & Phil Watson, Wilbur Soot & Phil Watson | Philza, Wilbur Soot & TommyInnit, TommyInnit & Phil Watson (Video Blogging RPF)

Additional Tags: Why Did I Write This?, TommyInnit Needs a Break (Video Blogging RPF), How Do I Tag, Sleepy Bois Inc Week | SBI Week 2022, Alternate Universe - SBI Rust Setting, Tommyinnit is missing body parts

#ao3feed #wilbur soot #tommyinnit #crimeboys #crime boys #crimebois #crime bois #mcyt #This is an automated process #If you see any fic that breaks boundaries #or the fic is yours and you don't want it shared send an ask #it will be looked at and removed if need be

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dreamsclock · 3 years

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“Wilbur,” Tommy says earnestly one night, “play me a song. You haven’t in ages.”

Wilbur thinks of his guitar, collecting dust under an old blanket, and of his hands, which shake too much to ever play it again. He doesn’t mention this to Tommy. Instead, he smiles.

“Let me teach you a song,” he says instead, and watches Tommy’s face light up.

a snippet from the sbi rust oneshot i’m writing!! it’ll probably be up in a few hours or some time tomorrow, depending on how fast i write :]

it’s super angsty and focuses on wilbur and tommy’s brotherly dynamic, and i’m having so much fun writing it!!

if you wanna be tagged in it, let me know!! ^^

#mcyt #dream smp #tommyinnit #tommy innit #wilbur soot #wilbur #sbi rust #sleepy boys inc #sleepy boys #sleepy boys fic #sbi rust fic #-> my posts !!

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hollenka99 · 3 years

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October Fic Recs

Multi-Chapter Fics

Wasting Your Time by shutupanakin - T, 20k, ongoing

Planning to use a late night train to end his life, Tommy meets Wilbur who challenges him to stay alive for one more week. They meet again and again on the same train at the same time each week for a routine trip where they catch up. But Wilbur seems awfully guarded about his own life for someone who is so eager to get Tommy to open up to his loved ones. Obvious warnings for suicide. I could tell that something was up with Wilbur and it felt great to learn I was right, though how right hasn’t been revealed yet. The foreshadowing is great and as a story about a friendship formed from trying to remind a stranger why life can be worth living, it’s quite sweet. Also shout out to Jack with his pins and late closing hours.

thus always by emmellohi - T, 21k, ongoing

When the Antarctic Empire conquers Newfoundland, Wilbur resents them for the propaganda he is made to write as a journalist. Out of spite, he creates an underground publication where he can combat the lies and help others navigate their new way of living. When I got to the end of chapter 1, I just sat there thinking “Oh, when they get Wikipedia or an equivalent, this moment is definitely going to get a few sentences on the pages about the rebellion and their respective lives”. It has a lot of promise and absolutely deserves way more hits than its current low count. Warnings for themes of oppression and abuse of power.

One Big Human Heart (Gently Beeping) by grasstastic - T, 22k, ongoing

Wilbur discovers Stick Boy, the main character of an arcade game from work, has more to him than it first appears. The more he gets to know Tommy, the more he learns about the sinister truth about why he acts so alive. Warnings for body horror and kidnapping. Tommy’s habit of shocking disrespectful players is great and I love his past with Techno. This fic is also to blame for me listening to Cabinet Man and Redesign Your Logo exclusively for over a week in August.

One Foot in the Grave by Raisans_Grapeon - T, 17k, completed

A trip to get Tommy a music disc for his birthday goes disastrously wrong for Techno and Wilbur, the consequences of which are devastating for the family. It also leads to new information coming to light. Warnings for major character injury, (temporary) death and grief. The part with Phil trying to get Techno to listen to him while Techno insists on giving Wilbur the potions still destroys me. The same with Wilbur trying to work out what happened to him.

Two Villages and a City Away From Salvation by Anonymous - NR, 46k, ongoing

SBI are 18th century farmers who suffer a terrible harvest year. However, as winter rolls around, a poor harvest is arguably the least they have to worry about with the looming presence of soldiers in their village. Warnings for character death and themes of oppression. A couple moments that stick in my mind are the argument about Henry and Techno finding Tubbo in bed.

One Shots

amethyst and flowers on the table (is it real or is it fable?) by bonesandthebees - T, 10k

Tommy is not loved by the locals but he still helps them out if it means he gets food in his stomach. He meets a faerie upon accidentally stumbling across a clearing. The two of them soon become friends with Tommy visiting Faebur pretty much everyday. Both this and its inspiration (wildflower by sailingthenightsea) are quite enjoyable and I really liked how their spins on fae myths. Warnings for mistreatment of a child and violence.

is this what being vulnerable feels like? by call_me_steve - M, 10k

While running from Punz and the others hunting them down at Schlatt’s command following their election loss, Wilbur takes an arrow for Tommy. It hits him in the neck and even when they get him stable, he still requires treatment Tommy can’t handle on his own. I liked how Wilbur kept going back to the fact he has something in his neck because that would certainly be difficult to ignore. I loved Phil’s attempts to comfort him through the whole procedure too. Warnings for major character injury, blood and (temporary) character death.

Look Alive, Sunshine by hallmarked_error - T, 20k

A Fabulous Killjoys au that you don’t need to know anything about the source material to enjoy, given that I have never listened to the album or seen the comics before. Tommy is taken in by the other members of SBI after being found half dead in the desert. He becomes an honorary killjoy but his past in Battery City causes conflict as he struggles to leave those ideals and experiences completely behind him. Warnings for major character injury and dystopian authorities.

not great, not terrible by Zylina - T, 8k

SBI Rust fic where Wilbur and Tommy run low on supplies and it is Wilbur who risks his health to try get them some more. This does not have great consequences for either of them. Warnings for radiation poisoning and self sacrificial tendencies. The part with Wilbur in the trolley and their different interpretations of Tommy’s laughter, my beloved. I also loved the detail about 99.9 rads.

You Wonder What Happened by Cheeto_the_Cat - G, 2k

A story about a newcomer attempting to learn about the true Wilbur Soot from the locals they bump into. I enjoyed the exploration of everyone’s perspective of Wilbur and how the person whose pov this is would react to the conflicting accounts. I should have seen the ending coming but only caught on right before it was laid out explicitly.

#dream smp #mcyt #dsmp fic rec #wilbur soot #tommyinnit #technoblade #philza #long post

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