Tumgik
#it’s meant to be tnt duo
cyncerity · 1 year
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Secret Santa time!! @mcyt-gt-events
My secret santa was @pixiethesizeshifter!! I absolutely fell in love with your second prompt about a borrower’s first Christmas with their human, and you were kind enough to help me with my senior project so I was really excited when I got you as my secret santa and I wanted to make it really good
fun fact i’ve actually become like really attached to this story and I can almost guarantee there will be more content for it later
also it’s like 9k words and very unedited so there is a possibility that I may post this story again in 2 parts once I’ve edited it but for rn here!! I hope you enjoys Crimeboys hurt -> comfort
tw: vore, angst ig but it’s generally very fluffy <3
Tommy had never celebrated Christmas
That’s something that Wilbur has come to learn over the past few hours. Tommy had never had a Christmas. Something that had always been a right of passage for him. Something that had formed his childhood, even if he didn’t celebrate much anymore. His family had never seen the importance of having a giant celebration, or making Wilbur believe in the Santa fantasy, or making him go to church, but it was something he looked forward to every year nonetheless. A day for food, gifts, just a day to forget about all other troubles and focus on family and love.
Tommy had never experienced that.
It made sense, if he thought about it. He’d found the poor boy in a pet store, the same place most other borrowers that were captured went. He had bought adopted Tommy after a…particularly bad break up, just after valentine’s day that February. He was just…lonely. But Tommy wasn’t exactly what he’d wanted, at the time. He was unresponsive to anything Wilbur did to bond with him for a solid month after he was bought, enough that Wilbur went back to the pet store to ask if it was ok to return the young tiny. As much as Wilbur feels guilty about that to this day, without having done that, he probably wouldn’t have grown closer to Tommy like he did.
Orphaned at a young age, Wilbur learned from the store’s cashier that Tommy had been abandoned by his colony along with many other young children and left as bait for approaching tiny hunters so the others could get away. He’d been taken away, locked in a cage, had a hole scarred through his ear for a tracker and tag and only had a third left of his tail after it had been chopped of like he was a designer dog. His family had abandoned him at 5 years old to a place that would treat him more as an animal than a person. The employee said they weren’t surprised at Wilbur’s wanting to return him, since the previous over five dozen people had done the same.
Apparently, no one had been able to properly bond with Tommy, and his month stay at Wilbur’s house had been a record for him. They said they were hoping Tommy would have finally found a home, since he had been in the store for most of his life, being traded back and forth between humans. But, if Wilbur brought Tommy back, he would hit his 10 year stay in the store, and it was policy that he’d then be put down, like any other unwanted pet. If he couldn’t get along with anyone who may want him, then he didn’t have a purpose, so why should they let him live?
Wilbur ran back home, after telling the cashier that he’d changed his mind, which turned out to be the best decision he’d ever made. He started to see Tommy for what he really was; he started treating him less like a disobedient pet and more like a scared, traumatized child.
Tommy miraculously started to open up after that. After Wilbur reassured him time and time and time again that he was safe, that he would be treated like a person, he’d never be abandoned, and that he was, above all else, loved, Tommy began to open up.
Over the past ten-ish months, Tommy had grown so, so much. Hw wasn’t perfect, Wilbur knew that he likely never would be, but that was just fine with him, as long as Tommy was happy. He and Wilbur talked, talked for hours on end about the most mundane or stupid things. Tommy also, as Wilbur soon learned, had quite a sense of humor as well. They’d laugh and joke together, and they played off each other perfectly. Tommy had a sailors mouth to rival Wil’s, and though the tiny was very on edge about using foul language and insults for a while because “pets weren’t supposed to use that kind of language” (Wilbur wanted to punch whoever told him that) even after he started to trust Wilbur, the two of them now traded lighthearted insults back and forth like it was nothing. Tom’s hair was longer and healthier, now that it had been washed and cared for properly. He has better clothes that Wilbur had ordered specially for someone his size, and his eyes were monumentally brighter now that he had felt some kind of familial love. Tommy even trusted him with an...odd bit of borrower information; apparently, they were digestion proof. How Tommy learned that he had no idea, and quite frankly he was too scared to ask. All he knew was that that information tended to come in handy whenever Tom had nightmares or was having an anxiety attack.
And most importantly, somehow, by some miracle, Tommy trusted that Wilbur wouldn’t abandon him. Wilbur had convinced the child that he was different than every other person who’d taken him in, and he was determined to be. He was determined to help make up for the childhood that Tommy had never had, to give him every experience he was robbed of because of that awful store.
So when Tommy had mentioned that every time he was bought he was returned before Christmas, and had spent the holiday in what was essentially a hamster cage, it shattered Wilbur’s heart.
Tommy had never had a day to forget about his troubles, his trauma.
Wilbur was going to fix that.
~~~
Wilbur “went to bed” earlier that night, only slightly confusing Tommy, but the borrower seemed to brush it off. He needed a game plan.
You see, Wilbur had pretty much ignored Christmas after he moved out of his dad’s house. Sure, he got his family gifts and stuff, but he’d spend most of the day holed up in his room with a pizza and whatever shitty christmas movie was playing on tv. That wasn’t gonna work. He needed something better than that. For Tommy.
He wrote out a list of everything he remembered from his childhood Christmases; opening gifts in the morning, baking cookies with his family, playing out in the snow, and drinking his Dad’s hot chocolate. He looked at his calendar; two weeks. Alright, he could do that.
First up was presents. What did Tommy like?
The first thing that came to mind was music. Tommy had been ecstatic when he learned Wilbur played guitar, and loved to listen to him any chance he got. Apparently, constant music was one of the best parts of living in a public store. It had become his escapism while he waited for the next person to come alone and buy him only to bring him back a week later. Despite this, he seemed to dislike a lot of Christmas music. Something about the same 10 songs on loop for two months being the most irritating thing in the world to him. God, and Wilbur thought retail workers had it bad, at least they didn’t have to live with the constant bombardment of shitty Michael Bublé covers. He’d keep that in mind for Christmas.
What could he do with that, though? It’s not like he could get Tommy an instrument, they were all too small. Right? Could he make one? He’d never been very crafty. He wrote it down as a possibility. What else, though?
A disc player? That could work. He could make a disc of all of Tommy’s favorite songs, and buy him a disc player. He thought Tommy would like that.
He wrote it down as he brainstormed some more. Tommy liked gardening, maybe a little indoor garden? He was also pretty active, maybe he could buy something to attach to his walls that Tom could have fun with when Wil wasn’t around to go outside with him (Tommy usually chose to stay inside unless Wilbur went out with him, though he couldn’t really blame him. Tom had always been an indoor borrower, so he didn’t know how to deal with big animals. Wilbur would be scared of finding a squirrel double his size, too). Maybe more things for Tommy’s room wouldn’t be a bad idea: a full, human size bedroom with an occupant barely a few inches tall was bound to feel a bit empty.
Wilbur continued to write ideas until one suddenly struck him; clothes. He should get Tommy more clothes. He had a pretty decent collection of t-shirts and pants, a couple of jackets thrown in there, but one thing that Wilbur realized he was missing was sweaters. Oversized, soft, ugly but comfortable sweaters, a staple of wintertime. Probably because he’d never seen them on sale before. It was hard enough to find anyone that was willing to commission clothes for a figure only a few inches tall, and harder to find someone that would make them comfortable and, y’know, wearable to a person. So what if Wilbur didn’t know how to sew or knit? He could make a few shirts. Probably. Hopefully?
A quick google search told him that was a definite no.
Ok, so maybe he can’t make shirts, but he had a plan. He just needed to call up a friend to help him.
~~
The next morning came quickly. Wilbur peeked into Tommy’s room to find the borrower still fast asleep, thankfully. Wilbur wasn’t planning on being gone too long, but he figured it wouldn’t hurt to leave a note and some breakfast behind anyway letting Tommy know what was up.
With that all taken care of, he locked up his apartment and headed off to his old neighborhood, where his best friend still lived.
God, he missed her. It’s not like they lived all that far from each other, but they rarely saw each other much since they actually started to grow up. He hadn’t even seen her since her engagement party a few months prior, though her fiancé Puffy seemed like a perfect match with her. She still lived in the house she grew up in, Puffy choosing to move in with her, and it happened to just be a few doors down from Wilbur’s old house, which is precisely how they met.
He made it there after only about a half hour after taking a stop to pick her up some chocolates and a gift card as a quick thank you and early Christmas gift, and walked through the snow up to the familiar old and re-painted pink front door, knocking with a smile.
It didn’t take long for her to answer. She opened the door with a matching smile and was hugging Wilbur within seconds, her pink hair the nice strawberry scent that it had been since their childhood, bringing him a sense of deja vu. Wilbur hugged her back.
“Niki!”
~~
Tommy woke up with a yawn, stretching himself out as sunlight beamed through his windows and right into his eyes. Fuck, he should really start sleeping on a part of the bed where that couldn’t happen. Not like he didn’t have enough room, sleeping on a human sized bed. He got up and made the trek off the pillow he slept on in the center of the bed to the small table next to the headboard, only to notice a small cup of blueberries and chopped up strawberries and a note.
‘Hey Tommy! Went to go visit an old friend this morning, should be back before lunch! Love you! -your favorite big brother’
Tommy smiled as he set the note back down, taking a bite of a blueberry. What time was if anyway?
He checked the clock up on his wall; 2:34
Man, did he really sleep in that late? And wasn’t it…past lunchtime already?
He got out of bed quickly, not even bothering to get dressed before he slid off his bed and headed out into the hallway. “Wil? Wilbur?” He shouted, walking from room to room but still seeing no sign of his human. Ok, so maybe he was home alone. Wouldn’t be the first time. And of course Wilbur wasn’t obligated to spend every second of his time with Tommy. But…he said he’d be home. Wilbur wasn’t a liar. Maybe it was just taking him a while to get home. After all, maybe he was stuck in traffic, whatever that actually was. All Tommy knew was that traffic had caused him to get home late before. Plus, Tommy just woke up, he had shit to do today other than wonder where Wil was. Right. He was independent, he was fully capable of being his own person. He didn’t need Wilbur, not right now. He’d be home soon.
But what if he wasn’t?
No, he would be home soon, Tommy repeated to himself over and over, digging his palms into his eyes to stave off the tears he felt well up. He would be home soon. He trusted Wilbur.
~~
Ok, so maybe learning how to sew and knit was harder than Wilbur had thought. Niki had sat him down and taught him basic sewing patterns on a spare fabric sheet, and after stabbing himself for the twentieth time he gave up. Crocheting was surprisingly more fun for him, though. He had made a decently sized blanket for Tommy as a warm up, and he knew the tiny would love it, but he didn’t want to stop there.
As it turns out, having a best friend whose favorite hobby was crafting came in handy when you have a tiny little brother. Niki quickly started to sew some little t-shirts, leggings, and long sleeved tees with a nice, stretchy tech fabric that she had scraps from after seeing that Wilbur simply wasn’t going to pick up a needle again. Wilbur, however, kept crocheting. He managed to make a little beanie on his third attempt, and Puffy even showed up to help him learn how to make a little sweater. And make one he did. Scratch that, he made way more than one. He even made a few scarves, jackets, and even got Niki to sew a little sock for the end of Tommy’s tail since he knew the borrower was self conscious about the scars from where it was amputated.
By the time they were done, Tommy had clothes of all sorts, shapes, textures, and colors, though a lot was red and blue; his little brother’s favorite colors. A few shirts even had little logos and words from Tommy’s favorite shows after Puffy had remembered they owned a Criquet. Wilbur was absolutely beaming with joy once he gathered all the clothes into a box and started to head out.
“Thank you again for helping me, Niki. I really don’t know what I’d do without you sometimes.” Wilbur smiled as he placed the box into his car. “Don’t mention it.” Niki smiled back, giving him one last hug. “Let me know what that kid thinks of them, alright?” Wilbur smiled, though a little less genuinely than before. As much as he trusted Niki, Tommy wasnt human. And though Niki was one of the sweetest people Wilbur had ever met, he didn’t know what she thought of tinies. Of Tommy. He’d tell her eventually, but…not today. For today, she was helping him make tiny clothes because the little boy he’d started babysitting loved dolls. Proper enough lie for the time being. “I’ll be sure to tell you how happy he is when he gets these. Seriously, he’s going to love them. Merry Christmas!” He finished, stepping into his car and turning it on. He watched Niki wave to him as he pulled out, and only then did he notice the sky starting to darken. Fuck. What time was it?
His dashboard read 5:46
Fuck
~~
“Tommy! I’m home!!” Tommy heard yelled from the front entrance as the door slammed open. Immediately his ears perked up. He honest to god felt like he could cry.
Wilbur was here. He was back. He hadn’t left, he was here with Tommy again.
“WIL!!” Tommy screamed as he ran for the front door, seeing Wilbur’s expression brighten as he ran closer. Wil kneeled to the ground with his hands out and let Tommy throw himself into them, barely giving the tiny any time before scooping him up and pressing him to his cheek. “I missed you! I missed you so much, sunshine, I was thinking of you the whole time I was away.” Wilbur said, running a finger up and down Tommy’s back. He knew he fucked up; Tommy hated being left alone for too long. He needed that constant reassurance that he was wanted, and Wilbur couldn’t blame him for that after what he’d gone through. “I didn’t mean to be gone that long,” Wilbur continued, “I was just catching up with someone, and I didn’t realize how long it’d been till the sun started to set.”
“‘S alright. You’re back now, yeah?” Tommy said. Wilbur nodded. “Absolutely. You hungry?” “Fucking starving.” Tommy said, pulling away from Wilbur’s cheek. “You didn’t leave me lunch and I can’t open a fridge, you prick.” “God, you’re so needy.” Wilbur scoffed as he placed Tommy on his shoulder, making his way to the fridge and getting food out for the both of them before settling down on his couch to watch something.
It wasn’t long till he and Tommy had almost fallen asleep, and Wilbur moved to bring Tommy to his room, only for the sleepy borrower to cling to his finger. “Tom you have to go to sleep.” Wilbur said, yawning as Tommy shook his head. “No, fuck you, you left me alone all day you owe me cuddles.” He slurred, half asleep. Wilbur sighed, having seen this coming. “Do I know what you mean by ‘cuddles’ or are you being normal for once?” “Which do you think, bitch?”
Wilbur rolled his eyes and lifted Tommy higher to his face as he moved to sit on the tiny’s bed. To be fair to Tommy, though he as a normal human found this a bit weird, it seemed to help his little brother tremendously when he felt insecure. And he really would do anything for Tommy.
With that thought, he lifted the borrower up to his mouth, immediately feeling Tommy trying to weakly pry his lips open in his groggy state. He laughed softly as he opened his mouth and Tommy almost immediately fell forward, loosing his perch on the lips and tumbling straight onto Wilbur’s tongue. He felt the tiny relax as he slowly closed his mouth, making sure Tommy was fully inside. He felt and heard Tommy giggle as Wilbur licked him, quickly slicking him up and tasting him. Tommy’s weirdly good taste always surprised Wilbur less, even after they’d done this plenty of times. He didn’t know why he tasted good, or if it was only Tommy or every other tiny as well, but he wasn’t too concerned about it.
He felt a weak pat to the top of his mouth and took that as his cue to swallow, given that Tommy probably wanted to go to sleep. He could understand that, he was tired as well. He lifted his head up slightly, gently swallowing and tracing his little brothers descent with one hand. He laid back onto the bed as he felt Tommy enter his stomach, but he panicked a little when he didn’t feel him move around or get himself comfortable or anything. Wilbur propped himself up with one arm and pressed gently onto his midsection with his other, trying to feel if anything was wrong.
“Tommy?” he whispered. “You alright in there?” He sucked in his breath a bit and went quiet, now starting to register the calm, steady breaths from under his skin and the faint sound of snoring. Man, Tommy must have been really tired then. “Goodnight, Toms” Wilbur whispered quieter than before, lying back down. He released the pressure on his belly but still keeping a hand over it, rubbing it gently as sleep hit him as well
~~
Ok. It had taken a week, but all of Tommy’s clothes were wrapped and the smaller-than-average-and-therefore-useable-to-Tommy sized disc player that he ordered had come in, so everything was going well. Sure, he was staying up later to get everything done and make sure Tommy wasn’t catching on and was spending more time in his room hiding anything that could spoil the surprise from his little brother, but he was fine. Phil did it every year for him and Techno, he was fine. He was fine. He just had to get everything else done before Christmas. He could do this.
He just needed a bit more help.
~~
Tommy was fine. Really, he was fine. It’s just that Wilbur had been avoiding him for the last week and he had no fucking idea why. And it’s not even like he hadn’t been home, he just been locked in his room. Every time Tommy went to talk to him, he’d always look to guilty and scared, and he’d say something cryptic, hang out with Tommy for ten minutes, then run back to his room.
Had..had he done something wrong? Was Wilbur mad? Did he just want to be away from Tommy? Was he really that hard to like?
No, no… Wilbur wasn’t like that. He couldn’t let himself think that way. Wilbur cared about him, Wilbur loved him. Tommy couldn’t think of anything he’d done to make Wilbur mad at him, so it all had to be in his own head. Wilbur wanted him, and wanted to be around him.
Tommy heard footsteps.
He turned to the entryway and saw Wilbur zipping up a coat and pulling a beanie over his head, getting ready to leave. Without saying goodbye.
“…Wil?” Tommy asked, and immediately the human’s head snapped towards him, eyes widening in surprise. “Toms!” Wilbur smiled awkwardly. “I, uh..I didn’t know you were out here.” He said, shoving his hands into his pockets and shifting his weight back and forth impatiently. Tommy stared. “Where are you going?” “Just to see someone again. This time of year, man, everyone wants to get together!” He forced out a laugh, but Tommy didn’t budge. Wilbur sighed. “I’ll be back soon, ok? As soon as I can be.” He said, pulling the door open and taking a step out. “I love you.” Tommy didn’t answer as he left and the door closed behind him, the car starting up moments later.
Tommy couldn’t help it. Silent tears fell down his cheeks as he cried, his face frozen and expressionless as he tried to process what he was feeling. The first time Wilbur had left his room of his own volition in days and it was to leave Tommy alone. Again. Wilbur had never acted that way towards Tommy, either. Tommy had never seen him so desperate to leave a conversation.
Maybe he had gotten too used to being cared for constantly. Maybe it was bound to end up like this. Or maybe he was too spoiled. After all, this was still leagues better than he’d ever been treated. Wilbur wasn’t hurting him, or treating him like a lower life form. He was just…giving him less attention.
God, what was wrong with him? Wilbur wasn’t doing anything wrong, it was Tommy, just like it always had been. It was his skewed perception of family and his constant nagging need for attention that drove people away, Wilbur had every right to not like him. To ignore him. To send him back, if he really wanted.
How had Wilbur turned into his everything? He never formed any sort of attachment before. Hell, even in his colony, he was the orphan that no one wanted. Yet somehow Wilbur had made him desperately dependent on a family. On a human, nonetheless. And he loved it. And hated it. He loved Wilbur, his family, and he loved that after all this time he could finally love enough again to the point he could consider someone a brother to him, but he hated that Wilbur held his tiny, fragile, broken and haphazardly glued back together heart in his giant hands.
He hated that part.
~~
The drive to Phil’s had taken a little bit longer than expected, but he wasn’t gonna speed there with ice in the roads. He had been greeted in by his other little brother (technically his twin brother, but Wilbur was born first and he’d never let Techno forget it), who was staying over for the holidays so he could meet with his nerdy book club or something. His father was also beyond excited to see him, despite Wilbur having called to make sure they had time to see him a week before Christmas, it seemed like Phil was surprised he showed up all the same.
“It’s been too long, mate.” Phil said, wrapping his eldest son in a hug. “You never stop by anymore.” “I know, I know, I’m a horrible son.” Wilbur laughed as he leaned out of the hug. “I just really need your help with something.” “What’s up?” “Well, this is going to sound odd, but do you remember on Christmas when Tech and I were kids and we’d all make cookies and you’d make hot chocolate?” Phil laughed, the corners of his eyes crinkling as he smiled. “Of course I do. It was one of your favorite parts of the holidays. What about it?” “Could you give me the recipes?” “How come?”
Wilbur sighed. Phil knew about Tommy, he just…didn’t know exactly what Tommy was to Wilbur. Phil still thought of tinies as pets, which was why they’d still never met, and Wilbur really didn’t have the time to explain how wrong that was. Besides, Phil never seemed to look down on Tommy. He could even temporarily forget what Phil thought of Tommy most of the time, until he said something a little out of pocket that would bring the illusion crashing back down. “It’s just…it’s that borrower I adopted a while ago.” Phil smiled and laughed. “Right, I remember you telling me about it him! How is the little guy?” “He’s well!” Wilbur said, ignoring how using ‘little guy’ to describe a teenager rubbed him the wrong way.
“It’s just, he’s never had a Christmas before. I’m his first real family, and I want him to give him as good a Christmas as I had as a kid.” “Aw, mate, that’s so sweet! Of course I’ll help you! But where’s the fun in just giving you the recipes, hm?” “Whats that supposed to mean?” Wil asked, but Phil was already walking past him, going to the staircase that led to Techno’s room. “Techno! Get down here, we’re making cookies!” “Dad, I really should get home as soon as possible.” Wil argued, looking up at a nearby clock. 12:08. He’d left Tommy alone with no better reason than an awkward excuse at around 11:25 in the morning. He should really try to be home soon. “Don’t worry, Wil, this won’t take long. We haven’t bonded like a family in forever, either. You want to learn how to make these, right?” Wilbur sighed.
He could tell how much this meant to Phil. After all, his father wasn’t wrong. It had been a while since it was just the three of them hanging out together. Techno came down the stairs and Wilbur could tell how happy his brother seemed when he saw Phil pulling out all the cookie ingredients, even if to the untrained eye Techno still looked pretty stoic. He sighed. “Fine, but I can’t stay for more than an hour. I really do need to get home.” Wilbur relented, taking off his coat and throwing it over a kitchen chair. “How do we do this?”
It was 8:30. Godammit, how did he even manage to do that?
He’d just gotten so distracted with his family. Sue him, he missed them. Techno was always busy doing..whatever Techno did, usually fencing tournaments, and Wilbur rarely had the time to visit either. He really had missed being around his family.
And he really had meant to just leave as soon as the cookies were done. He’d even written down every ingredient and instruction as they made the cookies so he could go as soon as they were done and he could verify that they were the same they’d been in his childhood. But then Phil saw the list and walked Wilbur through every step in more detail, making sure to add little details like exactly how long an ingredient should be refrigerated before being added to the mix, and specific brands that would make all the difference in the cookies. And he had to admit that it did work. Plus, he still wanted that hot chocolate recipe, so Phil ended up writing all the ins and outs of that as well, along with making 3 cups of it.
Then he almost left but then he remembered Techno had a cd burner in his room and he really wanted to make Tommy something for his cd player. He ended up making multiple cds, some of Tommy’s favorite videos game soundtracks (he debated making one that would just loop The Able Sisters, but decided against it since it would drive him absolutely fucking insane), some of his favorite normal songs, theater music (including a separate disk for the entire Hamilton soundtrack, he didn’t care if that was illegal), and, the one he thought would mean most, a cd of his songs. The songs that he had written, that were mostly just his own voice and a guitar. He wasn’t sure if Tommy knew, but Wilbur always took special note of the songs Tommy liked. He worked the hardest on those, always being sure to ask for Tommy’s input and suggestions, and those were the songs that had the most effort put into them.
Techno and Phil hadn’t heard these songs. It had been so long since Wilbur had played his music for his dad and brother, of course they’d wanted to see what he’d been working on. So, he’d shown them. And he forgot he had a back up guitar at his Dad’s house, so he played them some of the songs he’d been working on. He did tell them that some of the songs were for Tommy, and Techno actually surprised him a bit when after Phil had got up to do something, he held Wilbur up and excused himself to grab something from his room, returning with a small cow keychain.
“What’s that?” Wilbur asked, taking the toy as Technoblade gently tossed it into his hands. “Just a cow. I don’t have much use for it, it came free with one of my online sword orders, so I thought maybe your borrower would like it. He is a kid, right?” Wilbur looked wide eyed and nodded, mindlessly fiddling with the stuffed cow in his hands. Technoblade smiled. “You mentioned it was his first Christmas, figured it would be nice to give him something. Plus, borrowers need ‘stimulus’ or something and I know they’re supposed to have, like, pet toys, but I think every little kid needs a plain old fashioned stuffed animal. I mean, he’s important to you, so he’s important to me, you know?”
Wilbur was actually speechless. Techno was never that outwardly thoughtful, he always had an issue expressing how he cared about people. Even though Wilbur was pretty sure Techno still saw borrowers as pets, he’d gone out of his way for Tommy. This…must have been really important to him. Tommy, who he’d never even met but had heard Wilbur gush about on the phone for hours, was important to him. He took a moment to wipe unshed tears from his eyes as he hugged his brother. “That means more to me than you know. And he’ll love this, genuinely. Funny enough, he has a weird love of cows.” Wilbur felt Techno laugh into his shoulder. “Send me a picture or something of him with it. And Phil and I want to meet the kid someday, remember?” “You will, I promise. Someday.” Wilbur smiled.
And before he knew it it was night, and Tommy had been left alone. Again.
He was a horrible brother, wasn’t he?
~~
He snuck into the house at around 9:10 at night, after the long drive home. He wasn’t sure if Tommy was asleep or not, but he wanted to be quiet all the same just in case. He didn’t see him anywhere at first, but he did notice the light in his room was off.
Wilbur creaked the door more open slightly, and saw a small figure under a blanket in the center of the bed. Ah, so Tommy had gone to bed early. He closed the door back to its neutral position of only slightly open (since Tommy couldn’t reach the doorknob). He had some cd cases to add designs to and wrap.
Had he taken a closer look, he may have noticed the minute shaking from under the blanket, or heard the sniffling of the tiny’s cries.
~~
Christmas Eve.
At least, that’s what all the calendars said. It meant fuck all to Tommy. All he’d ever associated Christmas with was obnoxious songs on the store radio (seriously, fuck those, if he ever had to hear any version of “Last Christmas” again, he’d scream), shiny decorations on the shelves, and parents coming in to buy their children mice or fish as a cheap replacement of the puppy their toddler had said they wanted. He’d been picked up a few times by those parents, thinking he’d be a good fit for their child, but he learned pretty quickly how to avoid being bought by those kinds of people. Parents didn’t want a pet that would curse at and bite their children. The only thing he actually enjoyed was that on Christmas day, the store was closed. No lights, no music, no crusty little kids or asshole employees. Just silence and peace for one day. Still alone, but alone with less of a reminder of where he was, what he was seen as, and how unwanted he’d been for so long.
But he didn’t have to worry about that this year. He’d found his forever home. At least, he hoped he did. He’d never had a reason to doubt that before.
But it had been two weeks. Two. Weeks. And Wilbur wasn’t around as much anymore.
For two weeks he’d been stalking around the house avoiding Tommy, leaving for hours on end and giving some bullshit excuse he made on the spot. Tommy wasn’t stupid. He just didn’t know why. What had he done to push Wilbur away?
Fuck this. Fuck all of this. Wilbur had always pushed Tommy to think for himself, to stand up for himself. He’d told Tommy his treatment at the store had been wrong. He’d told Tommy before that he had a habit of just letting himself be treated poorly. Back in the early days of his and Wil’s relationship, he’d let Wil just push him around. He’d go days without eating if Wil forgot to leave food for him, and he’d let himself be flung around like a ragdoll, content with the bruises. He never cared what happened to him. He’d never been wanted, he always assumed he was just not good enough. He wasn’t worth anything, why should he care about himself when no one else did?
Wilbur changed that. He changed all of it. He loved him. He made Tommy feel like he was worth something, godammit. What was the point of that if Wilbur was just going to throw him away? What kind of cruel, suck joke would it have been if Wilbur cared about him so much for all this time only to forget and abandon him now.
Fuck this. Fuck Wilbur. Fuck him for making Tommy feel like he was worth something, and fuck that he’d taught Tommy how to care about himself.
Tomorrow. Tomorrow, he’d stand up for himself. Tomorrow he’d ask Wilbur…well, he wasn’t sure yet. But he had till tomorrow to think of something to say. Something to verbally sort out how hurt and sad and confused he’d felt.
Tomorrow.
~~
Tomorrow.
God, Wilbur was so excited he could hardly wait.
Tommy had spent most of the day in his room already, but Wilbur had gone in for a minute to drop off his breakfast and lunch just to ensure that Tommy didn’t have to leave. He needed the rest of the apartment empty.
Time to decorate.
He had a few bins of Christmas decorations that he’d bought from the dollar tree over the years, not much, but enough. He had a pretty basic tree, but it was more than enough to put Tommy’s gifts under.
He was proud of himself. Sure, he felt awful about not being home, and he hadn’t slept this little since his high school finals, but he was proud of himself. Tommy would love this.
Along with the clothes, the cow (that Wilbur had removed the bulky clip from), cd player, and cds, Wil had bought a bunch of supplies to make a decently sized parkour park for Tommy’s room and had made a big custom terrarium. Granted, neither of these were finished; the wood for the park was too rough to grab without splinters and the terrarium was mostly just a bunch of connected boxes filled with dirt (and a small buried fish bowl that functioned as as in ground pool to Tommy, Wilbur was pretty proud of that one), but he wanted Tommy to have some part in these things. They’d still be surprises, but after Christmas he’d get to pick how the park was set up and what colors it was, and he’s get to pick out what plants went in the terrarium, though Wilbur had already bought a couple of bigger Bonsai’s and made a small swing to hang from one of them. He knew Tommy would love these. He knew Tommy would love all of it.
He was going to give his little brother the best Christmas ever.
~~
Tommy hadn’t slept much. He was too worried about what to say. What could he say? Should he just wait a bit longer to say anything? Maybe Wilbur was just having a rough time with…something. Tommy wasn’t his only priority, after all.
No, fuck that. It’d been two weeks. If Wilbur really was having a hard time, he’d have said something. He’d have assured Tommy it wasn’t his fault, like he always did. Wilbur always reassured Tommy. Tommy’s well-being was always at the forefront of his mind, and he truly believed that; that’s one of the reasons he grew to trust the man so much. And if Wilbur was having a hard time? Tommy would find out. He just had to talk to him. He just had to suck it up and talk to-
His thoughts were cut off by the door opening more, his head snapping to the entrance as he heard an excited gasp. The lights were flicked on, and there in the doorway was Wilbur; Christmas pjs on, hair a mess, and bags under his eyes. By all means he looked tired, he looked fucking exhausted, but somehow only physically. Tommy took a minute to look at his expression and realized he hadn’t seen his human this happy in weeks, or, hell, ever. Wilbur looked ecstatic.
“Tommy!!” Wilbur yelled rushing forward and scooping the tiny into his hands, holding him against his cheek for a moment before pulling back and holding him at eye level. “Are you excited?” Tommy was speechless. Utterly fucking speechless. This was…now how he expected today to start. “…for what..?” Tommy asked, and that seemed to be just the question Wilbur was looking for. “For Christmas! It’s Christmas, Tommy!” “…yay?” Tommy said, still unsure of what to make of Wilbur’s sudden shift in attitude. But Wilbur just laughed and moved his hand a bit lower, beginning to walk out of the room. “C’mon, there’s something we have to take care of.”
Tommy could’ve sworn his heart stopped in that moment. ‘Please don’t be taking me away,’ he pleaded in his own head, squeezing his eyes shut and clenching his whole body. He felt himself start to shake as he tried not to cry out loud. ‘Please don’t be preparing to pack me away and send me back to that fucking store. I can’t do it. I can’t fucking do it again, not after all this. Not after you. Us. Please, please, don’t abandon me. Please, please, plea-‘ “Tommy?” Wilbur asked, stroking a thumb down Tommy’s back, the familiar gesture helping immensely. Tommy cracked an eye open, turning back to look up at Wilbur. He only focused on Wilbur’s confusion and pity for a moment before something else caught his eye. Lights. Strings of lights lining the ceiling borders around the room. He followed the strands paths and realized they spread out into the next room, the living room, so he turned to see where they led.
He gasped.
A tree stood in the back corner of the room, giant and shiny and glowing. It was gorgeous. The room itself was decked out as well, green, red, silver, and gold tinsel hung off every surface, and christmas patterned blankets lined the couches. A fake fireplace video played on the tv as peaceful jazz renditions of Christmas tunes played quietly in the background. Most shockingly, under the tree, there were stacks of gifts of all varying sizes and wrapping papers, and some were even taller than he was!
“Do you like it?” Tommy turned back, seeing the hope in Wilbur’s eyes. He couldn’t help it. He just burst out crying, burying himself in Wilbur’s chest as soon as his big brother pulled him in closer.
“Woah, woah, Tommy, what is it, are you ok??” “I- I th- I thought-“ Tommy could barely bring himself to speak, his breath hiccuping with every sob. “Shush, shh, sh, it’s ok, Toms, you’re ok. Everything is fine. I’m here for you, ok?” Tommy felt large, gentle fingers down his back, and he fell back into a normal breathing rhythm. This was Wilbur. This was the Wilbur he’d missed. His brother was still here.
“…you did all this for me?” Tommy whispered, not lifting his head from Wilbur’s chest. “Of course! I had to give my little brother the best Christmas ever, of course.” He could hear the pride and excitement in Wilbur’s voice. “Took a bit of work, but I think you’ll love it. You wanna open some presents?” “They’re all for me?!” “Of course!” Wilbur beamed, bringing Tommy closer to the tree and setting him right in front of his presents. Tommy sniffled and wiped his eyes, nodding. “I didn’t get anything for you, though.” “And that’s alright,” Wilbur said, sitting down behind Tommy and leaning down to be closer to his level. “I didn’t expect you to. This is your first proper Christmas. Today is about you.” Wilbur finished, reaching behind the tiny to pick up a smaller present and hand it off to him.
Tommy took it carefully, as if he’d simply break it by holding it. The package was about the size of his torso, and was very light and squishy. The weirdest part of it was the tag, though. From…
“Technoblade..?” Tommy asked aloud, and Wilbur’s smile grew. “My twin. I saw him a few days ago and he wanted you to have this.” Tommy stared up at Wilbur, confused. “Did you tell him to get me something?” “Nope.” Wilbur said, popping the p at the end as Tommy took in what he was saying. Wilbur’s other brother thought of him? He knew the technical rest of his family didn’t really view him as a person, but…Techno had thought of him. And wanted to give him a gift. People didn’t do that for pets, did they?
Tommy began to carefully unwrap the paper around it before Wil told him he could just rip it up. That seemed a lot more fun, so he did, and he found a soft, squishy stuffed cow with little button eyes looking back up at him. Wilbur’s brother…knew his favorite animal? Tommy looked at it for a bit longer. It was a stuffed animal, just like other normal kids had. His size. It was practically made for him. Tommy just sat, taking the time to process it when he noticed a camera on him. He looked up with confusion and Wilbur laughed lightly.
“Techno wanted to know what you thought of it. You like it?” Tommy looked back at it before grinning widely. “Like it? I love it” He yelled, squeezing the cow to his chest. “Look at it, look at it, Wil! It’s amazing! She’s gorgeous. Her name is Henry. I will love her for the rest of time, I have never seen anything so fantastic in my life-“ He heard Wilbur laugh as he continued to rant. He heard a quick whisper of “I think he likes it” from Wilbur before the camera was set down. “Well, what do you say you open some more?”
~~
Wilbur hadn’t been disappointed by Tommy’s reactions to his gifts.
They started with clothes, which Tommy was somewhat skeptical about (probably cause he’d been through his fair share of clothes that Wilbur ordered that didn’t fit), but after learning that Wilbur had recruited his friends to make them specially for him and he’d even learned how to crochet to make some of the clothes himself, he was far more excited to open them. Tommy literally cried when he opened the first sweater Wilbur had made him. Wilbur forgot that Tommy had never owned a warm knitted sweater, apparently Tommy hadn’t even known that clothes could be made that soft. Needless to say he put it on immediately, as Wilbur couldn’t help the pride he felt. He was actually a bit shocked at some of Tommy’s reactions to things, given that he’d been severely confused by the idea of tech fabric and he didn’t know what to do with the scarves at first either. He was very excited to pull out a shirt with the Hamilton logo printed on it, though.
Next up had been the parkour wood, which Tommy hadn’t really understood until Wilbur drew out what he thought it should look like in the tiny’s room. Then Tommy spent the next 30 minutes drawing what he thought it should look like, and it became a collective effort to make it as cool as possible. Tommy also decided that it definitely needed to be painted red and definitely also needed flame decals. Wilbur could agree with that.
The next thing was the garden, and Tommy almost immediately wanted to get in the “pool” section of it, now that he knew he owned swim shorts (Wilbur really needed to get Niki something to thank her for this, she was a saint), but Wilbur convinced him to at least wait until presents where done. He told Tommy that as long as he was really careful, he’d take him to the store to buy whatever plants he wanted for the garden, and he knew that to Tommy, that was a present in itself. Tommy didn’t get to go to public places very often, but he loved it. Tommy literally gasped as he saw the bonsai swing, and started to talk about what he wanted the garden to look like; what plants, maybe small tiling, maybe even little benches. Wilbur just lightly pushed Tommy back and forth and listened.
The last gift he gave Tommy was the cd player and the disks. Those were the most personal to him, and he thought that Tommy would find them the most meaningful. He was soon proved right.
Tommy opened the Hamilton one first, and was ecstatic, his joy only rivaled by the next two, the more personal ones of all his favorite songs and soundtrack music that Wilbur had known. And as if Tommy hadn’t done enough crying today, he cried when he opened the cd of Wilbur’s own music. The songs that Tommy had loved, so Wilbur had made them even better for him. Tommy immediately popped that one into the cd player.
~~
Wilbur’s music continued to play out over the speaker as he and Tommy made cookies on the stove. As much as Wilbur wanted the cookies to be as good as Phil’s, Tommy was impatient as fuck and also a major kitchen menace. He had sit still long enough for Wilbur to properly make a decent bit of hot chocolate, but after that started to cool and he started making cookies, Tommy apparently just…couldn’t sit still any longer. He was a little bit helpful, but he couldn’t really help with most of the ingredients, so he ended up just getting covered in them and had also started using Wilbur as a jungle gym, making him mess up as well.
Wilbur put up with it until Tommy managed to hurl himself into the bowl of cookie dough. The human didn’t feel like taking Tommy all the way over to the sink, so he did what any rational person would do and just stuffed Tommy in his mouth, ignoring the profanities and screeches from the tiny. And if he “forgot” to let Tommy out until the cookies were in the over and the ingredients were put away, it was totally on accident.
By the end of the day, they were both sat on the couch, a mug of hot chocolate being shared between the two of them, watching some awful Christmas movie. Wilbur had tried to put on one of the ones he watched as a kid, but Tommy quickly proved too terrified of stop motion to keep them playing for long. So, they ended up just watching whatever came up on their tv, not that either of them were really paying attention, to caught up with everything that had happened all day. Tommy curled up into the side of Wilbur’s neck, pressed between a turtleneck sweater and warm skin, with Wilbur lifting the hot chocolate up to him to take sips from (coffee stirring straws were a blessing for that), fully content to just lay there forever. Even when Wilbur went to retrieve the cookies from the oven and started to break pieces off for Tommy after they cooled, he stayed right where he was.
“Y’know, Wil…” Tommy said after they had made their way back to the couch, bringing the plate of warm cookies with them. “You had me scared for a bit.” Wilbur hummed in confusion, unable to talk past the cookie in his mouth. Tommy sighed. “You just…I dont even know, really, you just kept…disappearing.” The tiny laughed shallowly. “I know it’s dumb, I know you better than to think you’d ever…yeah. I just…you went out of your way to ignore me. And, I get that now, I know why, I just…never mind, it’s stupid, I know what you were doing I just-“ “It’s not stupid.” Wilbur interrupted, lifting a hand to lay over Tommy. “Don’t ever try and invalidate your feelings like that. I…I know I fucked up. I just got…I got so worked up over making everything perfect for you. I was so focused on how you’d feel today that I ignored how you felt for the last two weeks, I don’t have an excuse for that. I’m so, so sorry, sunshine.”
God, Tommy really wasn’t gonna cry again. He didn’t want to cry this much on his first Christmas. He just felt…so much relief. He could feel an almost physical weight lift off his chest as Wilbur spoke. He had said exactly what Tommy wanted to hear, and he could tell that his big brother had meant every word. “Thank you. For..for apologizing. It’s ok, really, it is, you just know how I get sometimes.” Tommy looked down, and he felt Wilbur tilt his head towards him, squishing him farther into the neck and giving him a sideways hug of sorts. “And..and I know that you didn’t take me in just to have to spend every second with me, you have a life, too, and I don’t want to get in the way of that.”
“And you’re part of my life. I love you, Toms, and I love to be around you. And I will never be offended by your fear that I may leave. That’s a recent trauma for you, no one said you had to get over that quickly. I’ll be here every day to make sure that having a proper, loving home becomes your new normal. I’ve become emotionally dependent on you, gremlin, you will never be able to get rid of me now.” Wilbur said, finishing by pressing his cheek against the boy, who only giggled and leaned farther into it it. “Thanks, Wilby.”
The two of them sat like that the rest of their movie, content to just be in each others company until Wilbur reached down to grab the hot (well, maybe now just warm) chocolate. Wilbur was a bit confused when Tommy took off the big sweater he was wearing, just leaving his tank top underneath, but that quickly turned to confusion when Tommy fell forwards into the mug. Wilbur panicked and quickly brought the cup up higher, seeing Tommy surface from the sweet liquid and start laughing. “Fuck, Tommy, are you ok, what the fuck was that?!” But Tommy only laughed harder. “You ignored me for two weeks, let me have this. Besides, don’t you wanna finish your hot chocolate?”
Wilbur scoffed and brought the cup up higher. “You’re lucky I love you.” Was the only warning Tommy got before Wilbur tipped the mug up and Tommy tumbled out of it with a yell, hot chocolate following behind him as Wilbur swallowed quickly. He felt Tommy squirm down his throat, hitting against the muscles around him but not trying to cause any real damage. Wilbur felt warmth bloom in his core as Tommy finally dropped into the stomach, along with the rest of the warm liquid. Wilbur pressed a hand onto his belly and felt Tommy press back. “You’re not gonna drown in there, are you?” “Nah,” Tommy said as Wilbur felt him flop back into the hot chocolate, making his stomach rumble. “It comes up just above my waist, I’m good. Now don’t move around to much, your stomach making noise shook me enough.” “Oh? You mean like…this!” Wilbur said, standing up only to flip back onto the couch face down, hearing Tommy scream and start laughing, and Wilbur couldn’t help but laugh with him. “Yes like that you bitch!! Get up you’re squishing me!!” Tommy yelled playfully, smacking the muscles around him. Wilbur rolled back over onto his back, breathless from laughing. He felt Tommy start to rub at the muscles around him and went limp, the internal massage making his muscles melt. “Merry Christmas, Wilbur.”
Wilbur could have cried in that moment. He didn’t deserve this kid. This little boy who’d made him happier than he’d been in years, who put faith in him after so many failed attempts at family, who even trusted him to hold his life within him. Maybe later there would be more mishaps, more misunderstandings. Maybe Wilbur would mess up again, and Tommy would start to lose that faith. But Wilbur would do anything for Tommy, and he’d have all the patience in the world for him to heal and grow, and he’d grow with him. They could grow together. But that was all for the future. For now, they’d be busy planting a garden, building a parkour course, playing music, and whatever else they could think to do. Together.
Wilbur smiled and rubbed back at where he felt his little brother.
“Merry Christmas, Tommy.”
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fernlessbastard · 1 month
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hot take moment cwilbur is literally just psychotic as all hell and i think people got way too comfortable villianizing the shit out of a man who was clearly portraying signs of severe mental illness. cwilbur was like im so fucking paranoid and scared and i think everyone is out to get me and hurt me and ive spiralled to the point i cant reach out to the people closest to me because im so afraid and lost in this spiral and im having constant panic attacks and hurting myself because i dong know what to do with myself and the only way out for me is to die. and everybody was like EVIL MAN WHO ENJOYS HURTING OTHERS AND IS ABUSIVE ON PURPOSE AND A VILLAIN AND SHOULD NEVER BE TRUSTED AGAIN. and then he came back and was like im still deeply troubled and afraid but im desperately trying to make up for the wrongs i did in the past and the people i hurt in my own way and communication is really hard for me but i hope people know that im truely sorry and i love them. im going to try my hardest to fix this in the only way i know how and then respectfully remove myself from the situation because i feel thats the kindest thing i can do to the people ive hurt. and people were like ABUSER ABUSER ABUSER EVIL MAN ABUSER. like girl
Yeah no based true real no questions asked
I'd hope I manage to portray Wilbur the way he deserves in my content, cause that man is heavily bpd coded and he just needs therapy and someone who genuinely loves him but also can handle his bullshit (which has exclusively and reliably been Quackity like, canonically)
But yeah no completely agreed. The man has issues and has definitely fucked up a lot but at the end of the day he really does need love and care and patience, but also boundaries (and therapy and meds, obviously)
#i deeeefinitely have no reason to have strong feelings about bpd bitches deserving love and care and stability ha ha nooo it's definitely-#-not like I've been dating one for well over 4 years now and even though we've been through so much shit together and I still can't-#-understand why people with bpd and conditions that have similar symptoms are so demonised. It just makes no sense to me.#my bf is the love of my life and i can't imagine /not/ supporting it through all the splitting and episodes and all of that cause they're-#-absolutely worth everything#i don't know not to be too gay on main but tbf it's too late now anyway i think--#is it unstable? sure. but it's also the most caring and loving person i've ever been close with and it always makes sure i'm ok#and it loves me so undeniably deeply no matter what purely for who i am#i've never had anyone care about me this much and this genuinely and this unconditionally - it'd always be what /they/ can get out of /me/#but my boyfriend just cares about me - the actual me - no matter if i'm acting how it imagined i'd act. what matters is if i'm /me/#listen bpd isn't sunshine and rainbows - we've been through some TERRIBLE shit (including s-cide attempts)#but when people claim it makes a relationship toxic/abusive it's so stupid cause ultimately with mutual love support and reassurance-#-and professional help you can have a genuinely happy and healthy life with someone with bpd#love isn't mean to be easy. it's meant to be safe and supportive and genuine but a relationship always takes effort and work on both sides#you should never sacrifice your well being of course!#but when love takes effort and extra care it doesn't inherently mean it's unhealthy or toxic or abusive. it just means you're people.#tldr if you love someone then don't care about some diagnosis - care about the actual perso.#ask#asks#ask fern#tntduo#dsmp#tnt duo#wilbur soot#quackity#quackbur#dream smp#tntblr#c!quackbur#c!tntduo
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ladeldee · 2 years
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Whatever. Gives you Them Happy <3
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lunelicmoone · 1 year
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c!tntduo is so hamilton and angelica coded its insane
like: the longing, the tragic elements and imagery, the letter in take a break, angelica chewing him out in congratulations, SATISFIED.
"my dearest, quackity" with a comma after dearest ; and there you are an ocean away, do you have to live an ocean away? ; i begged you to take a break, you refused to. ; i languished in a loveless marriage in manberg, i lived only to read your letters. i look at you and think, "god, what have we done with our lives, and what did it get us?" ; i'm not here for you. ; you strike me as a man who has never been satisfied. i'm sure i don't know what you mean, you forget yourself. ; so this is what it feels like to match wits with someone at your level, what the hell is the catch?
the little song and dance they had going on that they both expected to come to an end after one of them got married, but it continued anyway.
the tension (whether painfully tense and awkward or something else entirely) that settles whenever the two of them are in the same room and everyone (including themselves) not knowing if it's in poor taste to even slightly acknowledge it.
them never truly getting together because something (or someone) was in the way and they didn't think that removing that obstacle was worth it.
something about the angelica + hamilton to c!tntduo pipeline makes me go absolutely insane
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Anon from the Philza and Wilbur post here
I don’t like c!tnt
There I said it— It’s just pumpkin duo if Quackity finally grew a spine. Don’t get me wrong I love a good angsty parasitical relationship because I think it’s great to show these kinds of relationships while also being aware that they’re BAD relationships. Wish is why I’ve hated the Pretty Little Liars show due to romanticizing predatory relationships.
On a side note I do like how the duo was progressed with time. I wish Quackity’s grief and cannibalism (even if metaphorical) had been explored more. Love me some Quackity angst.
But consider,
They could have animalistic gay sex and eat each other.
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ladyddanger · 2 years
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Rivals before hoes: a tnt gets married crack fic.
(This is just a joke not my serious take on the characters thank u :)
Also this is crack crack. Like I wrote this on 3 hours of sleep crack. Tw for slut shaming, lots of cursing, drunkenness, suggestive themes, making out and light c!dnf. Also! This party is adults only so none of the teenagers like c!tommy are here. Enjoy
The dinner party for the grand opening of the casino was going great until Wilbur started flirting with Quackity. “Oh my gods we’re not dating.” Wilbur said sitting on Quackity’s lap while he fed him grapes. “We’re just rivals why dose this society have to sexualize everything?” Quackity leaned over rubbing his neck. “Literally I’m so sick of it.” Wilbur kissed his cheeks. “You’re so cute.”
Sapnap stood up having enough. “Hey!” He shouted loudly. “Stay away from my fiancé you ugly zombified bitch.”
“Me and your finance had sex last night.” Wilbur shouted back . The crowd gasped. Quackity dropped to the ground and started faking a heart attack just like Sam had taught him in avoiding responsibility 101.
“I think you mean your fiancé and I.” Technoblade corrected quietly. Wilbur glared at him. “You’re literally an anarchist shut up.” Niki who was an instigator smirked. “Yeah Techno.” The Piglin stared at her. “You’re also an anarchist.” Ignoring him she and Wilbur gave each other a high five. Phil took a sip of his wine and reached for Wilbur’s glass as well. Quackity had stoped fake choking and hurried towards the mic on the large stage in the front of the room. The moment he was out of ear shot Sam sidled over to Sapnap with a nosey look on his face. “Now this just might be me.” He said quietly. “But I would not let someone talk about my fiancé like that.” (Sam was also an instigator)
Sapnap nodded. “You’re so right Sam, I think the only reasonable response is go up there and beat the shit out of Wilbur. I’m sure Quackity will appreciate that violence and it won’t bring up any traumatic memories.” Sam nodded. “Go for it Sapnap!” He cheered. Sapnap raised his hands like a football player and charged for Wilbur. “FIGHT! FIGHT! FIGHT!” Niki cheered, she and Phil had found somewhere else to be a safe distance away where they could still see the drama. (One table away) Technoblade started eating their cake looking unbothered.
“Hey Wilbur come down and fight like a real man!” Sapnap yelled. Wilbur was hiding on top of the table just out of Sapnap’s reach. “I’m perfectly fine being a real man up here.” He yelled back. Quackity had made it to the mic. “Good evening.” He slurred more then a bit drunk. “I just wanted to make it clear that Wilbur and I are getting married. Tonight!”
Sapnap turned. “What?” Wilbur looked just as shocked. “What?” Quackity swayed grabbing the mic. “This is definitely a real thing and not something I just thought of because the loves of my life are happy without me and it’s not fair.” He broke off sobbing for a good minute while everyone stood awkwardly and then continued like nothing had happened. “Wilbur and I are going to get married. And then we’re going to go to my room get on our knees and-.”
Sam rushed forwards and grabbed the mic away. “ -Pray to the prime gods bless us all. Such religious men you love to see it.” Everyone crossed themselves. Sam beamed. “I am so happy about this and I’m so glad Quackity told me in advance because if not I would be very mad. So I’m glad he told me like the great friends he is!” Quackity was sitting down on stage having exhausted himself. “I’m such a good friend.” He agreed.
Techno leaned over to Phil. “I’m an empath so I knew this was gonna happen. There was a lot of dark feminine energy from Quackity and Wilbur. Also i caught them making out. It was really gross. Wilbur gave me fifty bucks not to tell anyone so I bought ice cream for Niki and told her the whole thing.”
Wilbur flushed. “Please shut up.” Sapnap gasped. “You’re a slut Wilbur Soot!” Wilbur glared. “So what? At least I get bitches!” Sapnap lunged on top of the table and started beating him up. “Nooo.” Quackity wailed form the floor. “Two hot men are fighting over me. I hate my life.” Techno stood up and dragged Sapnap off Wilbur like a feral cat. “Please don’t kill my friend’s child or I will be forced to murder you and this is a new cape I don’t want to get blood on. You know how it is.” Sapnap hissed at him. Techno hissed back. Sam walked back to mic ready to do his job and cause more issues now that the drama was over. “Quackity you’re too drunk to get married.” He said into it. Quackity shrugged. “Change the law I’m the gods damned leader of this place.”
“Well you need a blessing-.”
“PHIL!” I want your blessing to marry Wilbur.” Phil glared. “No.” Quackity sighed and grabbed something from his inventory, it was a bell. “WHAT ABOUT NOW?” Techno stoped hissing at Sapnap and dropped him on the ground. “My clout Phil.” The older man looked pained. “But- but my son.”
“What’s more in important to you?
“My clout or your son?”
Phil sighed. “Your clout always.” Everyone clapped. Sam brushed a tear away. “What a sweet moment.” Dream looked confused. “Am I the only one who thinks this is messed up?”
George glared. “You literally weren’t invited Dream. You just showed up in that dumb dress and started throwing yourself at Punz like a whore.” Punz who had been stealing the fried shrimp looked confused. Sam gasped. “Damnnnn. You know if that was me-.” Wilbur and Quackity somehow got up on stage. Quackity turned to Sam. “MARRY US.” He ordered. Sam hurried over. Phil was crying and holding the bell. It was unclear if he was crying over the bell or his sons wedding. Techno was taking pictures of the wedding but they where all selfies.
“Ok.” Sam said. “Are you both in a sound state of mind?” Quackity swayed. “No I’m fucking wasted. I gotta be honest with you.”
“I think I have a concussion. “ Wilbur said sadly. Sam patted his back. “Take it like a man, king. You’re doing great buddy. Clearly you two are mentally stable and sane so Quackity do you take Wilbur to be your one and only side bitch?” Quackity sniffed. “Yes.”
“And Wilbur do you-.” Wilbur cut him off. “Yes! Yes, yes, yes, I do because in the end the love you take is equal to love you make and you are my love.” Sam sniffed. “So sweet.” Dream huffed. “He literally googled sexy marriage quotes. I can see his phone in his hands.” Sam spoke loudly over him. “You can now kiss the husband.” Quackity and Wilbur kissed dramatically.
“I HAVE AN OBJECTION.” The crowd gasped. (Everyone was an instigator that this point) Sam blinked. “Well their already married but sure go ahead. I need a new thing to have nightmares about anyway.”
Sapnap stood up. “WILBUR SOOT IS A SLUT. everyone gasped. “I KNOW FOR A FACT HE AND DREAM WEANT ON A DATE TO PIZZA HUT AND WILBUR AND I DID IT IN THE HOLY LANDS. He paused for dramatic effect. TWICE.” Sam gasped. Phil fainted. Dream did the Debby Ryan. Wilbur flushed. “You said that was between us and lady prime you asshole!” Quackity whirled on Dream. “You ruined my life. I hate you so much.” Dream stared at him as Quackity sobbed. “You horrible man. Do you have any idea what you put me through?”
Wilbur turned to the scared man . “Babe I can explain.” (It was unclear which scared man he was talking to) Quackity noticing everyone was staring cried harder. “I WANT A DIVORCE.” He sobbed running off stage and into Eret’s arms. “This is so upsetting I need a big strong king to carry me away.” When Eret didn’t move Quackity nudged her. “That’s you! Hurry you’re ruining my dramatic exit.” Eret nodded. “Of course.” Sweeping their cape dramatically they headed out of the doors with Quackity in their arms. Wilbur sniffed. “The love of my life gone.”
Wilbur sank to the floor and pulled out a cigarette. Sapnap looked down at him. “Gods above you’re pathetic. Wanna make out?” Wilbur looked up at him. “You’re terrible for me and much like my father barely acknowledge my existence. Of course I wanna make out with you.” They started making out. Dream groaned. “Can we talk about Wilbur’s daddy issues please?” George booed him. “Literally nobody here likes you Dream.” Dream huffed. “If you’re that mad about Punz we’re not even dating their just my evil best friend. He enables me.” Punz grinned offering a hand to George. “It’s a full time job trust me. Also I’m trying to seduce that guys ex.” He pointed at Sam. “Wait wha-.”
George beamed cutting Sam off. “Really Dreamy?” Dream grinned. “I’m all yours baby.” And with dnf being cannon peace was restored to sever.
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flamedraco · 3 months
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c!Wilbur Redesign
This is my compromise to the current situation regarding Shubble and the speculation surrounding Wilbur. This is coming from a fanfiction writer who has always, and always will, see the CCs as nothing more than voice actors for their characters. Buckle in, this is going to be a long one. But please read all the way through. If you don't know, recently Shubble came forward with a video about how she was in an abusive relationship. And she dropped some hints because she wants people to speculate about who it is. Wants to make sure that a person with bad intentions can't get away with more bad things. A lot of people are speculating that, due to said hints and previously established crush that he had on her, Wilbur is the person who abused her. Now personally? I do not believe this. It's hard for me to believe that Wilbur would do something like that. I don't like the idea of hopping on the hate train or immediately jumping to cancel someone. So I will be waiting for real facts and confirmation before saying anything regarding the CC. A lot of the speculation doesn't make sense to me logically and I also never got the chance to see the video before it was deleted. This is not me calling Shubble a liar. I 100% believe her and my heart goes out to her completely. She doesn't deserve being treated horribly, nobody does. The situation I'm hearing she went through is a wretched thing and I will not TOLERATE people insulting her or saying that she should just say who it was. That shit is not okay and never will be okay. HOWEVER! I will NOT stop writing Wilbur's character. A little fact about me is that when I came into this fandom, it wasn't because I watched the CCs. It wasn't because I was interested in MCYT. The reason I came here was because a very close friend of mine asked me to cowrite a fic with them. At the time the only fandom we really shared even vaguely was DSMP. I knew very little about it but I knew some things. I let my friend choose the ship. They chose TNT Duo. And it's thanks to that friend that I wrote Arsonist's Waltz. That I started to adore Quackbur and wrote my most well known fic, You Were Never Meant to be a Hero. And thanks to YWNMTBAH I made so many cherished friends. It's all because of these two little characters that still have me in a chokehold even though I've been writing them for quite some time now. And that's why I can't simply let go of Wilbur's character. But regardless of my ability to separate the Cs from the CCs, for some people that distinction is harder. The CCs to me are just glorified voice actors. For other people it's harder. They can separate the characters from the content creators just fine, but this situation hits them close to home. And it hurts. So, this is my proposed solution, brought to my attention by a friend who was heavily affected by this situation, but loved the work she was doing and didn't want to have to let it go. C!Wilbur doesn't have an actual canon design. When you think about it, the only thing we have to go off of is his Minecraft skin. Something that, when you think about it, doesn't tell us much about the character at all. There is no canon design because most of what we see as "canon" is based on the CC, not the character himself. When you look at c!Wilbur, the skin, does he have an eye color? Do we know his height? What about his hair length? His build? What do we actually know about this character outside of the clothing on his back and the personality his actor gave him? And when you make an AU everything changes. From now on? My c!Wilbur design that I'll use as a baseline for most of my fics is a 6ft man with heterochromia. One eye blue, the other teal. He's going to have brown curly hair that dips just below his shoulders and a light scar over one of his eyes. Sometimes he'll have freckles because what the fuck can we tell from a Minecraft skin anyways? He wears black nail polish because why not? Slay.
I already treated him and c!Quackity like glorified OCs already. Why not further OC the glorified OCs? So what if they aren't a faithful adaptation? How can anyone say what is and isn't "faithful" when we're talking about BLOCK MEN. Make them eldritch. Make them supernatural. Make them whatever kind of hybrid you want them to be! I'll die on my Magpie!Wilbur and Shrike!Quackity hill! Give them different eye colors and let them dye their hair sometimes, I'm going to make the white streak PINK because TWINS DUO and CHERRY BLOSSOM TRIPLETS! Give your Phantom!Wilburs green eyes and glowing blood! Give your Shapeshifter!Wilburs more hair and eye colors! Do what you want because the character has no actual canon design. Go wild with your AUs and remember that you're doing this for fun. For your enjoyment. Don't conform to what someone else wants from you just because your adaption, your interpretation, "isn't the real Wilbur". The characters are what we make them. Because the reality of the situation? They are literally just blocks in a cube game. There is no canon design. Don't let the actions of some asshole ruin what you love.
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julesthequirky · 1 year
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Beautiful Trauma - A Soldier Boy Miniseries: Chapter 2
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Beautiful Trauma
Pairings: F!Reader x Ben/Soldier Boy
Summary: The reader is the real widower of Ben/Soldier Boy and loved their life together before the incident. In 1983 she took Compound V, so she could be with Ben forever, but in 1984 her life crashes to the ground, and she’s stuck in a world without him. In 2022 a knock at the door changes her life, and when she’s told that Ben is alive she hopes that there can be a forever after all.
A/N: Reader has certain traditional gender values, that are antiquated today.
Chapter Warnings: Antiquated views, language, and mentions of domestic violence.
Chapter W/C: 2435
This work is unbeta’d so all mistakes are mine. If you like it, heart, and reblog it. All feedback is gold.
1984
The baby slept in the bedroom, and some random crap played on the radio – the busted tv still in its place – it never got replaced. The stubbed-out end of a blunt lay in an ashtray along with the others, its job complete in dosing you up. Trapped smoke lingered around the room with nowhere to escape, and you were dozing on the sofa after smoking enough to take out a whole football team.
The boot bashing in your door jerked you awake. Still high, you rubbed your eyes and watched Payback, minus Gunpowder, and Swatto, storm in.
“Jesus, fuck. Smells like a ganja farm in here.” Mindstorm commented, coughing and waving his hand to waft the smoke away.
Confused, mind foggy from the blunt, you continued to stare.
“Look at her. She doesn’t know what time of day it is.” Crimson Countess noted, walking around the apartment living area.
“She probably doesn’t even know we’re here,” Tessa said, and she and her brother laughed.
“I do.” You slurred.
Crimson Countess picked up a photograph of you and Ben on your wedding day. You were standing on tiptoe, kissing Ben on his cheek, and he looked handsome as ever in his Philly baseball shirt, with one arm hooked around your waist and the other in the pocket of his slacks. It had been taken outside the registrar’s office. She put it back with a curl to her lip.
“Disgusting.” She muttered.
You blinked, and she continued to loiter, mumbling under her breath about the photos on the mantle and the Soldier Boy memorabilia. Then she spun on her heel, marched to the closed door where your daughter slept, and ripped it from its hinges.
“Mindstorm, do your worst.”
Instinct kicked in, if a little too slowly, and you flew off the couch only to topple to the floor. Stumbling, head-fogged, you attempted to barge through the TNT and Mindstorm barricade.
You shoved Mindstorm to one side, but the TNT duo pushed you back.
“I don’t understand.” Mindstorm muttered as you fell on your ass.
“TNT! Detonate!” Tommy and Tessa yelled in unison and joined hands. Then, they each held a hand up, aiming at you.
Your eyes widened. Shit. In your stoned-out state, you froze and waited for the electric bolt that would surely come your way. You squeezed your eyes shut, expecting the inevitable. Nothing. No electric. And certainly, no nightmares.
“What the fuck!” Tommy and Tessa screeched.
“Nothing’s happening.” Mindstorm muttered.
You opened your eyes. Mindstorm and TNT were staring at you, trying, but failing to use their powers against you.
“I can’t hear her. It’s so quiet….”
You didn’t understand. Compound V had been a dud. You hadn’t gained any powers – not even the most common – super strength. You’d sobbed on Ben, and he had comforted you as best as he could. Compound V had meant to be the way forward – it had meant forever with Ben. And the lack of powers had destroyed that. But here you were, gasping in breaths with three members of Payback powerless in front of you.
“Crimson! We’ve got a problem!”
Crimson walked out with your daughter on her hip and a hand on the other. “What?”
“Our powers are useless.” Tessa said.
“Sweet peace…”
“Useless…” Crimson muttered and held out a hand. She smirked, and where a fireball typically erupted – nothing. Not even a wisp of smoke.
“The hell?” Crimson attempted another fireball, this time putting some effort into it. But still nothing.
You used the fact that three out of four were stumped to your advantage to grab your daughter from Crimson Countess. Then, still unsteady, you stumbled and fell into TNT.
“Don’t just stand there. Do something!”
Spurred on, Tommy yanked you up by the collar, but Tessa got excited. Her manic smile swam in your view as she clocked you in the jaw. Stars burst, and Tommy pushed you down. Unable to save yourself, your head bounced on the carpet, and in the distance, you heard their hyena cackles and Crimson’s throaty voice, “Vought sends their regards.”, before blacking out.
2022
Silence fell around the room as the information was revealed to them. Looks were exchanged that you weren’t privy to.
“What? That’s what you didn’t know about?”
The unkempt one cussed under his breath.
“Butcher, this just got a whole lot fuckin’ complicated.” The black man said. His tone warning.
“Nah. It’ll be fine, MM.” Butcher said, waving him off.
He then gave you a sly look. “Hang on, if you were wiv Soldier Boy back then, ‘ow come you ent snapped out of the cuffs?”
You tugged at the cuff attached to the table leg. “I would if I could.”
“But you’re a Supe.” Butcher stated.
You laughed bitterly. “I’m not a Supe.”
“Well, excuse my French lady, but you look fucking phenomenal for 70. Fuckin’ ‘ell, bo’le, what you got up and rinse that shit for all its worth.”
“The V didn’t work. I didn’t get powers,” It wasn’t entirely true, but some secrets were worth keeping to yourself. “Except for the no ageing thing. That’s it.”
Butcher sat with his hand on his chin, taking it in. Then, finally, he opened his mouth to speak, but the youngun beat him to the punch.
“Are you the one that keeps leaving flowers on Soldier Boy’s statue?”
You nodded. Every anniversary, Valentine’s, birthday, and Christmas. And sometimes whenever you felt like it. Ben’s statue embodied the only living resemblance that he had been alive in a world that continued to slip from your grasp. Sitting there and talking to him restored balance in your life.
“If you know that Vought are scummy fuckers, why ent you done anyfink about it?”
“Like what? Storm in there and demand my daughter back and for them to tell the truth? Yeah, that would work really well.”
Butcher held up his hands in surrender. “Alright, luv, don’t getchur knickers in a twist.”
“Those fuckers stole a baby. Mon Dieu...”
The Asian beside him rubbed her hand up and down the Frenchman’s back, comforting him.
“Somethings not sitting right,” MM started. He stood and paced the room. “Vought grabbed your child, and they didn’t kill you?”
“Why would they kill me? They got what they wanted. Taking my daughter sent the message plain and clear– that they can get away with anything.”
“But—”
“Oi, leave off, wouldja.”
MM tensed his jaw, his fists clenched, but he questioned you no more. Instead, he sat and glared at Butcher.
You turned your attention to the leader of the gang, Butcher. “Can I please go now?”
He shook his head. “Nah. Tell us where Crimson is first.”
You huffed, annoyed.
“I don’t know where she is.”
“The fuck you don’t. She was Soldier Boy’s public girlfriend, and I fink you hated her wiv ev’ry fiba of your being.”
Yeah, you hated her, but after they’d taken your daughter, you just didn’t give a shit about anything anymore. Waking up sober with Vought lawyers knocking on your door with papers to sign about your daughter’s “untimely death” put you into three decades’ deep depression.
“I lost everything. You think I’m gonna care about some washed-up, has-been cooze? Ben was Payback, and without him, those losers are nothing.”
“Tell us!”
“She’s a two-bit trailer trash whore! Now tell me where Ben is!”
*
The bastards left you handcuffed to the table leg as they searched for Crimson Countess. As they left, you heard MM to Butcher, “There’s something she’s not telling us. Something’s not adding up. Why would they leave her alive after sending…”. You strained to hear the rest, but they were too far away.
Stupid fucking cuffs. You screamed in frustration, eventually managing to snap the table leg and free yourself. The handcuff dangled from one wrist – that would have to wait. More important things were at stake. You threw a chair at the window of the door, smashing it. With another one, you swiped the window free of glass and escaped. Nothing would stop you from getting to Ben.
Ben was in America. And he wanted revenge. He deserved payback for what those fuckers did to him in Nicaragua. And you would be there right by his side, supporting him.
*
The car swerved as a boom went off. The glass in the windows disintegrated, and the earth shook. You saw a bright light erupt into the sky. What the fuck? Desperate to return in the right direction, you turned the steering wheel until it gave out as the car continued to hydroplane.
It spun out, and you conceded death as the car careened into a fence post. The airbag deployed, and you smacked into it. Dazed but otherwise alright, you left the car and ran to the explosion site.
The lactic acid burned in your chest and legs, but you kept running. Ben was your world; you’d been without him for so long.
“Hughie!”
Butcher’s cockney accent punctured the air nearby, and you almost knocked into the kid.
“Fuck!” He yelled, jumping out of the way as you came whizzing by. You heard the sound of a Geiger counter ticking for a split second.
An orange glow emitted from Cuntess’ trailer, and a figure stood amidst the wreckage. Your heart leapt, and you used the last ounce of adrenaline to run to him. He moved away from the burning trailer.
Hope bloomed. Your pride and joy. Your world. Your feet pounded the grass. Your heart hammered in your chest. You shouted his name, and Ben turned around, ready for the threat pursuing him, but when he saw you, he stood stock still, his shield dropped, hitting the grass with a clank.
Ben stumbled a few steps as you latched on, arms wrapped around him. He stunk of smoke, but you didn’t care. Overwhelmed, you stuffed your face into his chest and broke down. Never in a million years had you thought it possible. You’d dreamt of reuniting with Ben, but the sad reality began again when dawn’s light pushed through the crack in your curtains, and you awoke alone.
His hand threaded into your hair, his head dipped, and he pressed his lips to yours.
“I’ve missed you so much, woman.” Ben breathed you in, taking slow and steady breaths, recounting for all the lost time.
The off-kilter angle of your world started to adjust itself, and you felt whole. Complete. You had your man. Now you just had to find your daughter.
He tilted your chin up and wiped the tears away with gentle thumbs, softly telling you to hush.
Nearly forty years later and this man still managed to leave you breathless. He honestly was flawless. Dark hair, which flopped over, so inviting your hands itched to sink into. Green eyes so dazzling and pretty, along with sinfully plush lips that whispered lewd things in your ear and gave scalding kisses in the dead of night. The fuzz he sported brought his flawless, gorgeous look together.
“You’re giving me a real chubby looking at me like that.”
You matched your bedroom eyes with a come hither smile. “Let’s go find some hay to roll in, then.”
You couldn’t catch his words, but the searing look told you of his intentions for the night.
“Sorry to interrupt the reunion.” A certain Cockney accent butted in.
Ben’s eyes became cold and flinty, and his stance became protective. He bent and picked up his shield, stepping in front of you. Irritated, you sidestepped, noticing Butcher and Hughie. Ben gripped your arm and shoved you behind him again.
“Stay put, woman.” He demanded.
“Charmin’. If I talked to my missus that way, she’d give me a bloody nose.”
You couldn’t see, and his hand on your arm stopped you from moving. He had a nice back, but you were getting tired of looking at it, so you leaned over, but he yanked you back in place.
“Well, mine knows her place.”
You couldn’t see, but you were sure he wore a tight smile. Probably pissed that you were showing him up.
Being a good wife to Ben gave you pride. Keeping him happy made you happy. You had dinner ready for him as he came through the door, fetched him beers when he asked, and, importantly, made sure you looked pretty for him. It gave you a purpose, and having your daughter only expanded that.
At times he could be abrasive, but you attributed that to Payback and Vought. They demanded so much from him, and he gave what he could. Whenever he did snap, you snapped back, which let him know you weren’t gonna take any of his crap. Sometimes if you crossed a line, he would rebuke you with a swat to the cheek. But you were always ready and willing with your apology – between his legs, on your knees.
“Alright—” Butcher started.
“I’m in. Meet me tomorrow, and don’t forget the stuff.”
In? Tomorrow? Stuff? Ben dragged you away before you could ask. If Butcher and his team had spoken to Ben, you’d bet your bottom dollar that they’d conveniently forgotten about you.
“Ben, I know them. The English bastard falsely arrested me, and they hounded me for information on Cuntess.”
“I’ll deal with it.” He gruffly snapped.
This side of Ben was all business, and you knew better than to cross Ben like this. Getting on the wrong side warranted a visit to the hospital with a well-thought-out lie.
“Okay.”
A heavy hand laid on your heart. Ben could be harsh, but he had a heart of gold and meant well. Your happiness resided in him. If he wasn’t happy, then neither were you. You couldn’t let it disrupt your forever. But something would until she was found. It wasn’t fair for him not to know.
Ben reached a car. He popped the trunk and placed his shield in.
“You gonna get in, or are you gonna stand there looking gormless?”
“Ben. I need to tell you something.”
He turned to you, irritated. “What?”
You stalled, and he gave you that look, meaning he had no patience for your antics.
“Vought took Heather.”
The air stilled, and the tang of burnt metal filled your nostrils. Ben bared his teeth, and the roof edge creaked as it bent under his hands. His breaths came out fast, like a raging bull. You expected another explosion, but nothing.
“Ben?”
At your tentative question, he looked up, fixing you with an intense stare. “I’ll get those fuckers. Don’t you worry.”
And you knew he meant it.
Tags:
@spnfamily-j2
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fany-the-bunny · 6 months
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Okay, since this fandom gonna die, there's one more thing i have to share with you all
I did not care for TNT duo
Edit: Well the fandom did not died, so i might as well elaborate on that. TNT Duo is pretty damn boring, i mean the kind of dynamic they have could be interesting but the way is written just make it boring as hell, in the Dsmp we were meant to believe those two were bitter rivals with some sexual tension specially after Wilbur been revived which is interesting, but other than that there's not much, like yeah we get that they are always on odds but...what else?
The only thing they do is argue all the time, which is fine at first but then they keep doing it, all of the time and just becomes boring, also is a pretty toxic ship if you think about it (i can't elaborate much on that since i didn't watched all the live streams but everytime i saw them, they we're arguing). And in the Qsmp is not much different, they argue all the time, Quackity tried to steal his kid multiple times (he was even planing on killing her at one point) and Wilbur just left at some point so yeah...what a great couple.
I know that Wilbur and Quackity are very great friends and they have this ongoing joke about liking each other, but im tired of this couple, is not very fun to write or watch and is probably the least interesting Quackity ship.
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Fanfiction Singalongs: August by Flipturn x TNT duo fanfiction
I wanna start a series where I recommend fanfictions and songs that remind me of them.
This fic is about two friends who've been friends for a very long time, one colossal misunderstanding. This fic is about two messy people getting messy, and getting messed up as a result of it. It sports a gorgeous writing style, paired with very deliberately formatted paragraphs to pack an extra punch. It's sarcastic, adorable, infuriating, and makes you want to drop-kick some sense into the both of them. You feel everything that Quackity is feeling and more, and that is both a blessing and a curse. Albeit long for a one-shot, this fanfiction is definitely worth the read.
I cannot express how much I was blown away by this fanfiction.
Additionally, I cannot listen to this song the same.
This song, I presume, is about two people who've had a shit ton of sexual tension that finally hook up. They do so over the summer, and once the summer is over, their friendship is never the same.
They move on and try their best to never acknowledge it. The singer laments, expressing how they've always loved this person, and how they are looking back on when this person was theirs. And although they've moved on with their lives physically, this person cannot move on emotionally.
"And it sounded so damn good And it tasted just like it should We don't talk about it We don't have the time We thought love was something We weren't meant to find But now you're a stranger And I'm still July But don't you remember August, honey, you were mine."
I'm literally screaming, crying, and shitting my pants over this I cant
Also the acoustic version just goes so much harder?? So yeah, that's the one I'm recommending.
Content warnings:
If smvt in fanfiction is something you're wary of, stay clear. If it's something you enjoy, you'll very much be satisfied with the amount of scenes in this fanfiction. And yet, it is a lot more than the s3x, and that is more than obvious from everything that builds around it. This isn't p0rn with plot. This is plot that uses p0rn as a storytelling tool.
The same thing goes for the substance abuse shown in this fic. Usually, anything that showcases smoking weed, is something I have to immediately click away from. I'm in recovery for addiction, and so mentions of narcotic use is usually something that I'm p sensitive to. However, this fic doesn't harp on the act of getting high. It's only used in detail in one scene, and it doesn't feel like it's glorifying anything. It just feels like it's there. I took the risk and was SO pleasantly surprised, and heavily grateful that I was able to push past the first scene. It's the only scene where they get high.
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2am-cursed-fanfic · 1 year
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Quack, Quack, Can Break Your Back
A TNT duo fanfic, a goose soulmate au, mafia au, everyone is dead except them au, SMUT. For basille: Happy Late Birthday 
Being paranoid was always his strong suit, maybe that’s why he survived so long in the mafia.
He loved his friends there, more like brothers at this point, the PG2020 was a good place to be when you had family with you.
Not that any of that mattered now,
The violence they rage at the SW2020 mafia, it started with a little misunderstanding. Just some land blocks 5 and 6 on seventh Street. Maybe there could’ve been a better way, a peaceful way, but when you are raised with guns and blood you believe them to be your friends.
No, Wilbur sees they truly were his only enemy.
He stood knowing that his family in the mafia was dead, it’s been two weeks, the cops look for anyone who is involved, but hiding in the shadows saved his very skin.
The funny part about it was, the place that was saving him was the abandoned building on the sixth block of seventh Street.
The sky is gray, it was all the Wilbur could think of all the other darkness that swirled in his mind for a moment felt calm. He didn’t want them to die in vain, but revenge was for someone who felt like going on for years.
A year was the longest time he could think of living before he lost himself to his own madness.
Then he heard it tapping at the window,
He looked out and saw no one, perhaps his paranoid mind had already lost.
But then again, it tapped once more.
He still saw nothing.
But every time he looked away the tapping began all over again, and again, and again, until finally-
He swung open the window
“OKAY WHO IS EVER OUT THERE THIS BETTER BE A THREAT BECAUSE I WILL COME TO CUT OUT YOUR TONGUE WHEN I FIND YOU”
Than
“Quack”
The fuck was that- Wilbur thought, but before he could finish his thought, IT flew in.
“Quack, Quack”
It was a fucking hell-
“You're just a goose, and I threaten that I would- I would-“ and for the first time in two weeks he was laughing.
He laughed and giggled. He must of sounded like a madman to the streets below but he didn’t care because something he couldn’t really explain was happening.
“I can’t- even-“ he laughed more,
The goose stood still understand his roars of laughter were over.
“We’ll I guess I have a pet goose now,”
He watched the goose ruffle it’s feathers,
“Now what should I call you-“ he said reaching for its head, but than
“OW BLOODY HELL!!”
It bite him,
“OUCH, OW, THE FUCK,”
At this point the goose looked downright furious, and to be completely honest Wilbur was downright terrified.
He started sprinting for the door, unlocking all 3 of his protective locks and an angry goose chased after him.
But the goose didn’t stop it’s hunt,
It chased him out the door, to the stairs, than down to the 3rd floor, and the 2nd, and also the 1st, all the way until he was out of the building entirely, running out of breath to the alley between the buildings.
And for the unluck of god, Wilbur found himself cornered,
By a goose,
In a alleyway,
Fearing for his life,
His family was laughing from beyond the grave and he could hear them.
And than,
“OW, THE FUCK DO YOU WANT FROM ME YOU DAMN BIRD-“
Another man with black hair, red glasses, and a cigarette burning at his lips, and in Wilbur’s opinion with pretty brown eyes at a glance, was also getting chased by another goose, to the same alley way, what are the chances.
“I SWEAR TO GOD I AM NOT ABOVE SHOOTING A BIRD, YOU HAVE ANY IDEA WHO I HAVE KILLED YOU LITTLE BI-“ And this other goose bite him, right on the nose.
The man stumbled back, not seeing Wilbur behind him also in the alleyway.
Wilbur, wanting to help a stranger in similar conditions, reached out to catch him.
And that was it, it felt like a sparkler was lit on the bottom of his tail bone straight to the top of his spine, like the world had freezed and heated both at the same time, he felt…hopeful for the first time in years.
Oh,
He knew what this meant, and judging by the way the stranger stiffed the same way he did, he was guessing he knew too.
They were soulmates.
Destined to love each other no matter what, to hold each other in the other’s arms sweeter than any embrace, to never let go like the fated Romeo and Juliet.
… and perhaps something that Wilbur needed the most at that moment, a companion.
Someone to keep his mind away from nightmares and kept his bed warm lying next to him, someone to love him through his worries and keep him safe, and Wilbur would return the favor he knew, ten times if they needed.
He loved them.
Who ever he was holding in his arms,
He knew that as simply as the sky is opposite of the earth.
He was going to love them until the day he died.
“Um..” the man in his arms mumbled,
“Oh, uh, sorry,” he tumbled, letting go of the man-his soulmate, and letting go of that contact felt like a torturous thing to do.
The other man straighten himself, and turned around without warning, with still a bleeding nose.
And brown eyes meant brown eyes,
And they realized the horror that they’ve seen each other before.
He was Quackity, part of his family’s warring mafia of SW2020.
A month ago they could have murdered each other.
A heat of anger rushed over him, the universe put him with his sworn enemy that helped kill his family…
But at the same time he had probably helped kill his…
The anger rushed away as quickly as it arrived, but the heat of the anger stayed, morphing into something else.
Quackity was part of the SW2020 mafia.
Wilbur was part of the PG2020 mafia.
But that didn’t matter now, because they were soulmates, destined to choose each other despite all obstacles, and because there was no one else left that they loved.
The war of the mafias is over, they both decided in that second.
“I’m sorry, I wanted to give you the world well I had it, my soulmate” Quackity says dropping to his knees,
There was a Silence,
“I’m afraid a I’m a simple man,” Wilbur says dropping to his soulmates level
“I don’t need the world,” he touches Quackity’s face gently like it was the most precious thing in the world,
“Maybe I just want someone to love me, is that too much to ask,” he says with a daring look the other in the eyes.
And all hell breaks looses, the moment they look into each other’s eyes, they can’t stop themselves if they tried.
Their lips meet, heated, they waste no time letting the other explore their mouths, getting tangled and untangled so quickly it could feed the fire raging in their souls.
And yet it wasn’t enough, nowhere near enough.
Quackity wasted no time after realizing this he pushed his soulmate to his building door, not stopping the kissing, as if he would ever want the other to stop anyways.
In the building his room was close but they both had been trying to combine so tightly waving fingers in hair and pulling the other towards them like they needed them to breathe.
Quackity’s broken nose was starting to turn their kiss metallic, but Wilbur couldn’t care for the life of him, all he knew was he didn’t want it to stop.
In Quackity’s humble room, a mattress and a lamp, they fall onto the bed naturally, Wilbur hitting his back against the mattress was a moment he would never forget.
Before he knew it he had his shirt off, so did Quackity, it was just too goddamn hot to have it on. Then the kisses stopped, Wilbur almost whined at the sudden lack of contact.
“Do you want more, my lovely?”
Quackity asked as he played with the button of Wilbur’s pants, smiling at the rise in the fabric that was holding up.
“Yes, yes, yes,” Wilbur begged, too desperately for Quackity’s contact to be proud.
“Okay than let’s make this the best thing you have ever felt,”
And with that Quackity tore off his pants, and then his underwear.
Leaving him bare to his soulmate, and damn, he didn’t want to be anywhere else in the world at that moment.
“Now turn over,” Quackity asked and Wilbur did graciously panting.
Then Quackity let his dick go inside Wilbur and Wilbur screamed, but it wasn’t near the end, Quackity started moving, and Wilbur couldn’t stop himself; he moaned so loud he didn’t care if the cops found them right now.
The best part was the more he moaned the more his soulmate was trying to pleasure him more, and more, and more, until
“AAAohah!”
The climax one they could both get off to for years.
They fell side by side, still tangled together.
They breathed, they breathed the same breath, and let the other’s warm feed their hunger.
That was the moment everything ended and everything started.
The war was over.
The SW2020 and PG2020 mafias were over and overtaken by a beautiful inseparable pairing.
They would take the world by storm, they wouldn’t be able to leave their mafia lives behind, but they couldn’t go back to being enemies, no, now they became something stronger together.
And they would be known as the TNT Mafia.
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loreanth · 2 years
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DOUBLE LIFE SPOILERS AHEAD
*distant shrieking*
Pearl WON
Pearl and Scott were the last duo left, Pearl who spent the first session gathering resources and making sure Martyn didn’t die, only to be rejected by her soulmate and blamed and abandoned by Martyn, Pearl who was called crazy by the others and treated like a live bomb any time she was near them, whose only company was her dog, Pearl who brought death with her wether she meant too or not.
She won, and she deserved it, and Scott AGREED.
That last session, Scott clearly cared, was reaching out to her, and she was scared to reach back, she trusted Scott yes, but still preferred the idea of partnering with Impulse and Bdubs, because they had been the only people who weren’t terrified of her mere presence (except Scar but he has like, no survival instinct), because while she trusted Scott not to kill her she still didn’t feel welcome, he still had Cleo and still clearly cared about her, enough so that even as a Red he didn’t want to hurt her, so where was her place with him? She didn’t know, and so went somewhere she did know her place, because while she couldn’t trust the other reds it was at least familiar, she could ally with them and only have to watch her back, only look out for herself even if there was no one looking out for her.
And then she was forced to chose there as well, join the other reds and risk Tilly’s life with someone who was a known threat to them, or slink back to Scott because at least she knows he won’t hurt Tilly (even when they were enemies, he never tried to hurt Tilly), and of course she chose Tilly, because Tilly is the only constant she has now that her tower is gone.
And then Etho and Joel die in the Nether and she hunts down Impulse and Bdubs and Tilly dies and Cleo turns on Scott and Martyn turns on her and she kills them and it’s just her and Scott left.
And even has Scott says she deserves the win more, he pulls out TNT and she runs because she assumes he’s going to hurt her because that’s all they’ve done to each other this season, but Scott has won before, and he knows what the ghosts demand, and he knows neither of them are making this out alive, and instead of killing Pearl, instead of hurting her anymore, he blows himself up, a quick, painless death for the both of them that technically makes Pearl the ‘most victorious’
And it’s just, I’m screaming, Scott saying ‘you deserve this more’ and Pearl thinking he means death and not victory, Pearl running from him, scared of being hurt anymore, Scott extending the last olive branch he can to the person who, though they weren’t friends or even friendly, remained loyal to him even when his chosen partner turned on him.
And finally, in the end, Pearl forgiving him, for abandoning her, for hurting her, accepting that in the end he did care.
I hope that they get to be happy together, as ghosts.
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spyroforlife · 1 year
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What if we rewrite the stars?
Say you were made to be mine
Nothing could keep us apart
You’d be the one I was meant to find
Uhh I don’t really go here but Rewrite the Stars makes me think of TNT Duo, idk. Have a lazy MS Paint thing
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pidgeon-brained · 2 years
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Mutually Assured Destruction
1k hurt/no comfort desert duo angst. Mild mentions of death, almost like domestic abuse but like, flavored funny. Idk. I don't believe in betas so if this is bad I'm sorry. Anyway!! Enjoy!!
The first death was an accident, the second was revenge. 
Grian was more than happy to share his monopoly with his soulmate, At odds constantly or not, they were still soulmates, and business partners at that. So he shared the sand, and he was even excited when they crafted tnt together. It was a new era, a dangerous era. The other soulbonds better watch out. There was something oddly nice about creating weapons of mass destruction as the strings connecting you pull back and forth. It was almost peaceful. Maybe he could share his life with Scar after all. 
This thought was ripped away from him when he stepped on the block. There was no indication he’d done something wrong, no click, no pressure plate compressing, not even the sound of a rail cart. Just a hiss and darkness. 
Well. Not quite, before the darkness came the pain, came the ground being ripped from underneath him and the searing ever present sensation of being ripped limb from limb. His wings had opened, attempting to pull him from the blast; they had not opened fast enough. Every feather on his wings had singed and burned. He felt every single fiber, sending shocks through him. He felt only the shock and surprise coming from Scar’s end. He did not have time to process anything other than the burning before the dark screen came. 
He stared at the message in awe, dropped into a random spot in the world. It was nearly nighttime. 
Grian Blew up
GoodTimeWithScar died
The chat was filled with messages, asking about traps and what happened. How did Grian explain that it had been in his own base? There was only one other pair of red names on the server, and they wouldn’t do this to him. Surely not. Big B was his secret soulmate. He wouldn’t hurt him. 
Besides, he was the only one with enough tnt to do something like that. Well him and . . .Scar. How could Scar be so stupid? Setting a trap where he knew Grian would walk. He would almost think it was intentional. He stewed on that for a while, as he made his way back to the base. Trying not to die to a variety of mobs. He sent and received a variety of minor hits. Nothing too serious, but enough to let each other know how stupid they had been. 
They met at the base, down in the crater, trying to look for anything that hadn’t exploded. Grian was hoping to recover some of his armor, his weapons. Just something. He was out of luck, at least their valuables (the sand and tnt) were safely stored away. Scar looked incredibly embarrassed, especially considering the mess the trap had made. He had apparently swung by where he had died to retrieve his armor and sword. 
“Sorry Gri!”
“Why did you trap our base!” Grian couldn’t help the anger and indignation that colored his voice.
“It was meant to just be a test! I wanted to see if it would work. How was I supposed to know you’d come back to the base before I could get a sheep to set it off?” The edge of annoyance in his voice only made Grian angerier. 
“You could’ve warned me Scar!! We’re yellow now because you.”
“Me? You stepped on the trap. You blew up.” 
There wasn’t anything sheepish or shy about Scar now, he was angry, reaching for a weapon. But that little part of his mind that could still care pulled him away from it. Grian didn’t have a weapon, didn’t have armor. He ripped his off with a speed that must’ve been practiced, he shoved the current item in his hand into his inventory. This would be an even fight, if only for the sake of proving his point. 
“You gonna hit me Scar? Like a child? Go ahead. It’s your life too.”  There’s a look in Grian’s eyes, a sort of burning, that tells Scar this won’t be a one off thing. This is war. 
So he swung. Because war was something. Was some sort of turn of events, was a way of dealing, a way of breaking the tension. The sound Grian made was almost satisfying, a huff of air and a small gasp of pain. Scar squared up, and it was oddly reminiscent of a very different battle. But they were allies then. They meant something to each other, there wasn’t this well of unspeakable anger. There wasn’t this uncrossable void. He feels the pain through their line, a single heart of damage, still enough to sting. 
Grian pulls back to swing and the move pulls Scar towards him, putting him easily in range. Scar could curse that string. It’s supposed to be a safety net, pull your soulbound out of danger, protect them at any cost. The hit comes when he’s too busy thinking to get out of the way. 
Another heart, how many more is Grian worth? 
He pulls on Grian’s fist, turning a little as he does so, dodging, but also yanking him around. Grian’s bird bones make him fragile, slamming into the wall comes with a sound not unlike falling through twigs in a tree. He squawks loudly, one wing hanging uselessly against his body. 
His screech is blood curdling, and he lashes out with sharp claws, raking them across Scar’s face, reopening long closed wounds. The pain was dizzying, knocking them both half a heart from death. He wonders if he should plead for his life, but the vindictive look on Grian’s face tells him there will be no mercy. He doesn’t deserve mercy after all. 
What has Scar ever done to deserve mercy? 
There is a moment where he thinks Grian will stop. Perhaps he thinks there will be some hesitation. Surely there would be some hesitation. Is your life worth destroying your enemy? Inevitably linked at the cost of your own soul. Does Grian value it all so little that he would destroy himself in the pursuit of destroying Scar? 
It never should’ve been a question, the answer has always proven yes. 
The Last blow doubles and triples, rebounding back and forth in waves of inevitablity, in waves of shame and barely restrained emotions. It bounces around the empty tie like a screensaver, like a constant reminder that this device is on. Do not forget. Do not burn out the battery and leave it alone. 
GoodTimeWithScar was slain by Grian
Grian died
Scar opened his eyes alone, his heart red like the cord attaching him to his enemy. They were meant to be friends. At least there was one thing he could always count on. No matter how close they were meant to be, Grian and Scar would always destroy one another.
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fridgrave · 1 year
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hey i’m one of the people that tagged a tnt/duo thing and i’m sorry you saw it negatively!! i meant it as positive and iconic (only seen surface level images) but i understand what you mean if you don’t like the comparison. also all your qsmp art is very cool and you have a good sense of composition! be well now
thank you for understanding and nice words, i know you don't mean anything bad and offensive and it's not just because tntduo thing, but also i just can't get it and it upsets me. why of all kissing dudes art it should be specifically mine? did tntduo invent the kissing arts or what
that's really upsets me and when I'm upset I'm getting angry. i saw a tag comment under my first ask not to compare this and i was literally told to take it with honor and to think it's something cool. IT'S NOT, I DON'T LIKE THIS. i don't care about this tntduo pasta at all and i don't want to be involved in such things, i hate this ship and this person acted like a legit asshole
and i never said anything bad about this pairing, don't get me wrong. if you like it you like it, just don't touch me with it bc it makes me uncomfortable. i hope people will respect that, i don't ask much and don't insult anyone with my personal opinion about this ship
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melissa-s23 · 7 months
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Ok,
This is me asking about the tnt duo
Go
-ghost anon
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we are SO CLOSE to a bingo they are scratching many itches.
they won't die in each other's arms because they're meant to never reach each other. Their path won't stop crossing but they'll never match for long and it's much more haunting than anything else. They're not meant to spend their lives together but they influenced the rest of their lives every time they met.
Are we in lore mode? I adore tnt duo
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