#Tommy doesn’t slap ranboo.. he just gives them a hug | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

ray-ray-writings · 4 years ago

Note

UMM THIS

https://vm.tiktok.com/ZMe24dvmM/

Im sorry I know you are packed and busy but can I make a request based on that video?? BECAUSE HOT DAM JUST WILBUR ENTERING LIKE

‘WHAT IS THIS I HEARD ABOUT HURTING Y/N AND TOMMY ‘

LOOK AT THAT VIDEO LOOK AT IT AND TELL ME YOU ARENT SIMPING TO THAT MAN

I simply cannot tell you that because it would be untrue because I am SIMPING so hard…. Also this was way longer and had a lot more plot than I originally planned so…. There’s that lol. Hope you enjoy. (P.S. Because it’s so long, this is going to be the only post tonight, my brain is a bit fried rn lol. Have a great night everyone!)

Warnings: Mentions of very quickly losing a lot of weight, it’s brief but it’s there. As well as, manipulation from Dream. At one point the reader is like “wow it’s been three days since you hit me… Thanks Dream!” And a few swear words here and there.

Before Wilbur died, you and Wilbur were married. It absolutely broke your heart to watch the love of your life lose his mind (and then his life) for the nation that you and he created to raise and protect your boys in. But you stood by his side until the very end. You held his hand as he died and clutched his body with Phil once it was over. Ghostbur gave you somewhat of a shock. Because you’re husband was back, and he remembered you. He was the man you had married. The person he was before the presidency, before the war, before L’Manberg… You’re Wilbur was back. But you were still sad. You couldn’t hug him or kiss him like you were able to and although he seemed to be right in front of you, it felt like he couldn’t be farther away. Ghostbur can see this and decides that if he can, he really wants to try to come back to life. He tells his father and older brother about this and so they begin planning and researching. In doing this, they kind of accidentally turn a blind eye to what is happening to you and Tommy.

While those three are figuring out how to bring Wilbur back from the dead, you and Tommy are being harassed by Dream. Something else you lost when you lost Wilbur was protection from Dream. For some reason, Dream was always afraid of Wilbur. Perhaps it was his ability to always stand up for what he wanted and fight for the things he loves… Or perhaps it was because he was Techno’s brother. Doesn’t matter. Point is when you lost Wilbur you lost the protection from Dream. Dream threatens you and Tommy, trying to provoke Tommy and trick him into doing stuff so that Dream could get him in trouble and one day it finally works. Dream tells Tommy where George’s vacation house is because he knows that Tommy cannot resist checking a place out and looking through other people’s stuff. So Tommy drags Ranboo over there and while they’re there they accidentally knock over a lantern and burn some of the house and some of the chests. On the other side of the server, Dream is in your home, poking fun at you for losing your husband and telling you that it was partially your fault and just stuff like that. You didn’t react. You never could when talking to Dream. But his words stung and slashed deep, and he knew it. Finally after a while of this, Tommy comes bursting through your front door, out of breath and seemingly panicked. “What’s the matter?” You ask softly, leaving your kitchen and going to comfort your boy. Tommy is about to spill everything but when he looks up he sees Dream and immediately swallows his words. “We were playing tag… That’s all… Tag” he says. You absolutely do not believe him but you catch his gaze and know that whatever he’s done he cannot say it in front of Dream. So you decide you’ll just have to wait…. You don’t have to wait long.

“You burnt down George’s vacation home?” Dream’s deadly tone sounds from the kitchen. Your eyes widen and scan Tommy’s face and the look that overtakes him, you know it’s true. “I did not burn it down… I knocked over a lantern and a small fire broke out… I tried to repair everything, it’s fine.” Tommy insists. But Dream seems too pissed to listen to reason. “Come with me” he hisses, marching forward and snatching Tommy’s wrist tightly and marching out of the house. A small whimper left Tommy’s lips as he was pulled causing you to fly into a rage. “Let go of him!” you demand, chasing after them. Dream doesn’t listen and so you reach out and shove his shoulder causing him to stumble, let go of Tommy’s wrist and whip around to face you too. A chilling smile rests on his face, “Oh you just messed up big time.” Before you can react, he reaches out, grabs your wrist, grabs Tommy’s again and continues on down the Prime Path. You’d try to fight it but the grip on your wrist was just too strong. Dream pulls you to Tubbo and immediately jumps on the boy. He explains what happened as well as says that you assaulted him and that he wants you two exiled from L’Manberg or there will be hell to pay. Dream tells Tubbo he will start a war and will kill everyone and everything if his orders are not followed. You can tell Tubbo really doesn’t want to, but it’s something he has to do. Tubbo lets out a small sigh and nod, “Okay Dream. You win.” He murmurs, not looking at Tommy’s betrayed face. “Excellent choice, Mr. President,” the man spits out. “Tubbo” Tommy utters broken heartedly, staring at his best friend, silently begging him to say sike… It never comes. “Dream please escort Tommy and Y/N out of my country.” “With pleasure” You wrist is seized again and you’re being dragged away from your home.

After you three get out of the SMP, Dream lets go of your wrists and lets you walk for yourself. You approach Tommy and wrap a comforting arm around him. “It’s going to be okay Tommy. Everything is going to be okay.” You comfort the young boy who sighs and nods, “I just can’t believe that he would throw me under the bus like that,” Tommy murmurs. “I know kiddo. I know.” You follow Dream for a very long time until he is satisfied that you are far enough away from the rest of the SMP. “Okay, we stop here… Put your stuff in this hole,” Dream commands, digging a small hole for the two of you to throw your stuff in. You let out a scoff and roll your eyes, “No way. You’ve already forced us into exile. There’s no way we’re giving you our stuff.” Dream’s face flushed a bright red before he lurched forward and grabbed you. Putting in a headlock to where you’re back was pressed against his chest, his arm around your throat while he has a crossbow to your head. “I’ve had enough of you fucking attitude Y/N. You have no power here. I do. I’m in charge and when I say to do something, you do it. If I ask you to jump, the only thing you may ask after that is “How high?” Do you understand?” You don’t speak, not wanting to give him the satisfaction of obedience. But then the tip of the arrow digs into the side of your head causing you to let out a small pained whimper, “I said, do you understand?” he demands again. “Yes” you finally whimper out. He moves the crossbow away from your skull and lets you go and shoves you forward, stumbling into Tommy who catches you and stabilizes you. “Put your stuff in the hole… Now” he growls, not in the mood for any more ‘games’. You and Tommy share a look and then a sigh and slowly put your things in the hole like he demanded. And you could only watch as he placed TNT above it and blew up everything. All of your items that you had worked hard for… Gone in a moment. Dream leaves with a cackle. You and Tommy are just there. Shocked. Finally, after a few moments, you’re able to shake yourself out of it. “Okay… Let’s get started, there’s no time to waste.” Tommy just looks at you and then he sighs and nods. “Let’s do it then.” The two of you spend the rest of the day gathering materials and building yourself a little shelter. You were all alone… At least you were all alone with your brother.

As we all know, Dream comes back almost every day. He comes back, blows up your stuff and leaves. The first time he came back you tried to stop him… It didn’t go well. “Dream, please he just-“ He cut off your words with a harsh slap across the face. It sends you flying and leaves your head spinning. “Haven’t you learned yet? Stuff. Hole. Now.” And you have no choice but to obey. You watch with a broken heart as Tommy slowly begins to actually trust Dream and believe him when he says that no one misses him. You do your best to be there for him and convince him that it’s not true but as days go by and no one, not even your Ghostbur, you can’t help but slowly believe that they’ve forgotten about you two. As time goes on, it seems that you and Tommy fade. You lose a lot of weight. Your food source is scarce and you have to do a lot of work because you’re restarting every. single. day. You get hurt a lot easier and it takes a lot more time to recover. Every once in a while, Dream will physically hurt you. Whether it a slap or a small sword slash, he does it just to make sure you still remember who’s in charge. You just learn to take it and deal with it. It hurts, but at least it’s you and not Tommy. Ranboo visits you once and is horrified at what he sees. He’s worried about you, but knows he can do basically nothing to help you. He makes a mental note to tell someone about it back in the SMP…. And even though he has memory problems, this is one thing he cannot forget.

On the other side of the SMP, Philza, Techno, and Ghostbur have done it. They’ve cracked it. They have figured out how to bring Ghostbur back to life and to bring back Wilbur. The three make the plan and tell no one, especially not you. (Yeah…. They don’t even realize that you and Tommy aren’t around rn lol) They want to make sure this works before they tell anyone. So they do all the prep and the work and then they perform the ritual. They perform it in a cave somewhere just a little bit away from Techno’s house so that absolutely no one would know where they are or what they were doing. They begin just as nightfalls. Carefully completely each step and making sure they’re doing everything just right, knowing if they fuck up one small thing it’s over and they won’t be able to get Wilbur back. The three complete the final step and wait…. Nothing happens. “Fuck!” Techno curses, his eyes falling to the book, “We did everything right! It should have worked!” “Techno calm down, we’re all upset but at least we-” Philza doesn’t get to finish. All of the sudden a bright light floods the room. The light? It’s coming from Ghostbur. “Uhh guys?” the ghost questions in fear as he is levitated off the ground. Philza and Techno cannot look at him for fear of going blind. Ghostbur is unsure of what is happening but then the shredding pain fills his body. A scream rips from his throat as his whole form begins to physicalize. The skin begins to become real as the bones, blood, organs, and all other internal body parts forms. All memories that Ghostbur had forgotten flood Wilbur’s mind as his whole life flashes before his eyes, reminding him of everything. It only lasts a few moments more before the light fades and Wilbur is dropped from the air. His body hits the ground with an extremely harsh thump. He feels the impact and lets out a groan. His whole body is sore… But he’s there. He’s real and most importantly he’s alive. “Wilbur?” Philza asks hesitantly. Wilbur lets out another groan. The two standing men share a look before rushing to his side. They kneel beside him and gently reach out. Don’t tell anyone but tears threaten to fall from both men’s eyes, Philza and Techno’s, as their hands actually are able to touch Wilbur and they don’t go through him as if he were a ghost. They gently help him from his side to laying on his back. At the movement, Wilbur opens his eyes and is met with the tear laced ones of two of his family members. “Hey guys” he manages to croak out, “how’s it going” “Wilbur” Philza breaks, a tear streaming down his cheek before he lurches forward and wraps the boy into a warm hug. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry” the older man sobs to his son. “Shhhh,” Wilbur calms his father, “It’s okay Dadza. I wanted it. You did what you had to do. It’s okay.” To the two’s surprise’s Techno’s buff arms wrap around the two and join in the hug. “It’s uhhh… it’s good to see you Wilbur” Techno grumbles, not really liking the emotion that had built up in his chest. Wilbur let out a soft laugh, “Good to see you too Tech.”

The sweet moment is broken by someone calling Techno’s name a little ways away from the cave. At first, they elect to ignore it, but then the voice calls again, this time for Philza and they can tell now that whoever it is, is panicking. So the two help Wilbur up and gently help him out of the cave. They look out over the snow and find Ranboo there, standing on Techno’s front porch. “Ranboo!” Techno calls out causing the tall boy to turn around and then run at them. “Techno! Phil!.... Is that Wilbur? Like actual real Wilbur? He’s alive?” Ranboo asks, his tone still slightly panicked. “Yes Ranboo… It’s a long story but to sum it up we managed to bring Wilbur back to life… Now why are you here and why are you panicked.” Ranboo’s eyes shift back to Wilbur and gulps, “I knew you weren’t going to like this… But now you’re really not going to like this… Dream is hurting Y/N and Tommy…” All three, especially Wilbur, snap to attention at that. “What?” Wilbur asks harshly. Ranboo gulps and nods before diving into his story. He tells them about your exile and how Dream has been treating you two, blowing up your stuff and even physically harming Y/N. He tells them that Dream has the two convinced that nobody cares about them anymore. The three go stiff at that. Have they all been so focused they really missed all of this? Well time to go right some wrongs. It is almost as if all ache and tiredness left Wilbur’s body at the thought of his spouse being hurt, especially at the hands of Dream. He straightens up and takes a few steps toward Ranboo, “Take them to us” he speaks, his tone pretty damn dark. Ranboo nods and quickly turns around and leads the three men back to the exile spot.

Back in exile, you and Tommy built a house… Logsted! It wasn’t exactly your taste, but it made Tommy happy so you lived in it together. You had woken up, actually feeling kind of good. The bruises and nicks on your face had slowly begun to heal and Dream hadn’t hit you in the past three days. You had a nice dinner last night, you and Tommy had found some chickens and made a small chicken farm a little ways away from the house so that way Dream couldn’t easily find it, but point is you had chicken for dinner… that’s what I was getting at… I’ll move on. So long story short, you were feeling good. The sun had risen and so Tommy and you were just kind of waiting for Dream to show up so you could get the daily blowing up over with. And like clockwork, he shows up, but for some reason he’s angry. For the past couple days he’d actually be pleasant to be around, greeting you asking you how you’ve been. But today was different. He slammed the door open and begins digging a hole in the middle of Logstedshire… That’s really weird. He was going to blow up the stuff inside the house? No way. But he points to the hole and you know he wants you to dump your items in. You move to the hole but don’t throw your stuff in, “Inside the house? Can we please go outside, I don’t want to ruin our hard work” wrong thing to say. A growl escapes Dream’s lips as he reaches forward and slaps you hard across the face, harder than he’s ever slapped you. It is enough to make you dizzy, but you don’t even have time to recover because his hand is in your hair, yanking it back forcing you to look at him. “You stupid bitch. You would think that after all this time, you would have learned by now… I mean you were doing so so well. But it just seems that you never learn your lesson… Guess I’ll have to teach you yet again.” And he pulls out his sword and points it at your stomach, ready to slice you again. Just as he’s about to harm you, the door swings open again and someone stumbles in. They lean against the doorframe with their hand grabbing the top of the frame. You can hear Tommy let out a gasp and you watch Dream’s eyes widen in fear. “So Dream,” an all too familiar voice calls, “What’s this about hurting Y/N and Tommy now?” And then you’re let go by Dream. You crash to the ground, fall flat on your ass, but you manage to scramble to a stand as you stare at the door frame in complete... Shock? Amazement? Fear? You can’t tell. You’re husband, Wilbur, is standing there in the flesh. Literally in the flesh. He’s alive again and you cannot believe it. “Wilbur” Dream stutters out, “You’re alive? How-” “That doesn’t matter, Dream. What matters is the fact that you’ve been hurting Y/N and Tommy… We can’t have that. So now what is going to happen is I’m going to take my family back to L’Manberg and you are never going to hurt them again,” Wilbur announces, moving ever so slightly further into the room. Seeming to have recovered just a bit from shock, Dream actually retorts, “Or what?”. Two more people enter the house and it causes Dream to blanch even further. “I think you know what… now run along.” Not wanting to risk it, Dream takes off running.

Once you’re sure he’s gone, you allow yourself to speak. “Wilbur?” You whisper out, still not sure if this is real or if you’re dreaming. Wilbur’s attention shifts to you and he completely soften. “Hello,” he greets with a soft smile on his face, taking a few steps toward you, “Have you missed me?” Deciding you don’t care if he’s real or not, you rush forward and throw yourself into his arms. You, like Philza and Techno, almost cry at the feeling of your body’s connecting. He’s here. He’s real. And he’s alive. His arms wrap around you and hold you to him so tightly, you almost can’t breathe. But you don’t care. You’re hugging your husband. You’re actually hugging your husband. “I missed you so much, Wilby. I mean we had Ghostbur but it wasn’t the same. I missed you,” you mumble into his shoulders, the tears slowly falling out of your eyes. His hand comes up and slowly pets your head, in silent comfort and reassurance.

After a few minutes you pull away slightly, “How are you-” You’re cut off by his lips pressing against your and you cannot help but melt. It has been months since his passing and this was just the absolute best feeling in the world. You kiss back with so much passion it makes your head spin, this time in a good way. It’s also probably the only time ever his brother’s didn’t fake vomit at the sight of you kissing. You only pull back to catch a breath, but right as you breathe in, Wilbur’s lips are back on yours. The process repeats a few times, before you manage to breathe out a “Will,” causing him to pull back, but leaving his forehead resting on yours and his lips just hovering above yours. “Yes my love,” he mumbles to you. “Can we go home please” you ask, not wanting to be here at Logstedshire any longer. He gives you a warn grin, leaning the inch forward and kissing you once more before giving his answer. “Of course my love. Let’s get out of here.”

#mcyt #mcyt imagine #mcyt x reader #mcyt drabble #wilbur soot #wilbur soot imagine #wilbur soot x reader #wilbur soot drabble #philza #technoblade #tommyinnit #ranboo #dream #tubbo #ray responds #our beloved alex8o

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onecanonlife · 4 years ago

Text

Wilbur has never had wings. He has long since resigned himself to that fact. However much of his father's blood runs through his veins, it is not enough to grant him that gift.

Wilbur comes back to life, and his back begins to ache.

(word count: 6,141)

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

It’s stupid, but when his back first begins to ache, he assumes it’s old age.

The thing is that he doesn’t have any real frame of reference for what constitutes as old and what does not. His father is old, but his father has lived for literally thousands of years. Technoblade is not quite so old as that, but Technoblade never dies is more than just a catchphrase. Tommy is young, he’s sure of that much, but Tommy has days where he wakes up and his head and ribs won’t stop aching, remnants of that third death that have never quite left him, so Tommy is perhaps not the best gauge of what pains are and are not normal for a young person.

Wilbur doesn’t think that he’s particularly old. He’s still not yet thirty, unless he counts the void years. Then, he’s older than thirty. Then, he’s older than his own bones. He tries not to dwell on the void years, because dwelling on the void years gives him urges that he’s still learning how to ignore. Urges like informing everyone gaily and at length when the inevitable heat death of the universe will be, or giving everyone a graphic description of what happens at a microscopic level in the human body when it picks up a stomach bug.

The point is, he’s not very old. But he feels it, a lot of the time, so when he wakes up one morning and his back is killing him, he shrugs it off and goes about his day. It hurts, sure. It hurts kind of a lot. But he’s had worse. The void took him apart molecule by molecule and put him back together again so many times that he learned to love it, and compared to that, this is nothing at all.

Life in the Arctic has been—nice. It’s been nice, reconnecting with Phil, cautiously rebuilding his relationship with Technoblade. Tommy comes to visit a lot, and it’s odd, trying to juggle the kid he thinks of as a brother with his father and his father’s best friend, especially when there’s so much bad blood between the lot of them, but they make it work. And Ranboo is around a lot, and he’s a nice kid, and Niki stops by every so often, and it’s good to see her. No one else is very interested in coming to visit him, which is understandable, but she always smiles at him, and he knows that they’re still friends. Which is good.

He’s fairly sure that the four of them, Phil and Techno and Niki and Ranboo, have some sort of secret club thing going on. They always give him different answers when he asks about it; Niki blinks and tells him it’s a book club, and Ranboo does not blink because he does not have eyelids, but Ranboo claims that it’s a pet grooming society. So they’re lying to him for sure, and he thinks he could know the truth if he wanted to, if he tapped in just a bit more to those bits of void that have nestled in his heart. The temptation is strong, sometimes, but he resists.

He doesn’t want to mess with a good thing, is all. He’s found a peace here in the snow that he didn’t think he would be able to find outside of the grave. He is hesitant to call himself healing, but most days, when his head cries out for blood and fire and burning the world and himself along with it, he can push the idea away and carry on without trying to act on it. That is healing, perhaps.

Captain Puffy tells him it is, anyway, and he’s found that Captain Puffy tends to know what she’s talking about.

But so. His back hurts. And he expects it to stop after a while, because even old person aches surely can’t last forever. Except, it doesn’t, and in fact seems to only get worse over the next few days, to the point that he starts to worry that it’s going to begin interfering with his functionality. Which he doesn’t want. He needs freedom, freedom to go where he wants, even if where he wants to go usually isn’t very far. It’s the principle of the thing. He does not do well with confinement, with spaces that are too enclosed, and if this pain ends up laying him out in his room, he’s going to go insane.

Poor choice of words, that. But the point still stands, so he makes a decision. The decision is this: he’s simply not going to allow that to happen.

So he slaps a smile on his face and carries on with his business, and does his best to ignore the way his spine starts to feel like it’s cracking open and stabbing into the surrounding muscle. And he is a very good actor, if he does say so himself, so for the most part, no one seems to notice that anything is wrong. Phil asks him if he’s feeling alright, but he’s able to deflect by claiming fatigue, and Phil accepts the explanation easily. And the pain only increases, does not let up at all, but it’s a gradual sort of increase, so before too long, he figures out how to adjust to it. It’s fine. He’ll be fine.

And then Tommy stops by for a visit, and they’re chatting outside for a moment, and Tommy says something stupid and ridiculous, so he smacks him gently upside the head, which Tommy takes objection to. And then they’re wrestling, which makes the pain flare a bit, but it’s manageable, especially since he gets Tommy pinned in about four seconds flat, which. Is concerning, a bit, because he is not particularly strong, physically, so if he can pin Tommy, there are a lot of other people who could also definitely pin Tommy.

But he’s probably not thinking about it the right way. This was a play fight, not a real one, and it’s difficult, sometimes, to remember that the server is currently at peace.

He pins Tommy, both of them panting and grinning in the snow, and he doesn’t let up until Tommy admits defeat. And then he gets to his feet, and here is where he makes the error: he turns his back.

The snowball impacts him right between his shoulder blades. He stumbles forward with the force of it, and his knees hit the snow.

Tommy is already cackling, is calling him a bitch. Wilbur barely has time to think oh, shit before something spasms, and it’s like something has taken a knife to him from the inside out. He hears a strangled little scream, choked and agonized, and barely recognizes the fact that it’s coming from him, because black spots are dancing across his vision and his lungs aren’t inflating properly and he can hardly think.

“Oh, come on,” Tommy says, a wide smile still in his voice. “Don’t be such a pussy. I didn’t even pack any ice in.”

He can’t reply. The agony is centered where the snowball hit, but it’s radiating outward, and the whole of his back feels like it’s burning and freezing all at once, and he shudders violently, breaths coming in short, quick gasps. He clenches his fists, braces them against his thighs, pressing down hard enough to leave bruises.

“Wilbur?” Tommy asks, more uncertain. And then, Tommy is there, kneeling down in front of him, and his face goes all wide and panicky. “Wilbur? Holy shit, are you dying? Are you having a heart attack? A stroke? Are you freezing to death? Have I just killed you with a snowball? You’ve got three lives again, right? Where are you hurt, Wil, come one, you’ve got to tell me, you’ve gotta tell me so I can fix it, are you—”

“My back,” he manages, “my back’s been—my back’s been hurting, it wasn’t your fault, it’s just—” He cuts off with another gasp as all the muscles in his back convulse, tensing and untensing and tensing again and sending a wave of stabbing pain through his nerves.

“Oh, Prime,” Tommy says, “oh, Prime, alright, you’re gonna be fine, big man, let’s just get you inside, alright? Can you walk? Nevermind, just—” Tommy hooks his hands underneath his arms and hauls him to his feet, slinging one of his arms across his shoulders as soon as he can get them in the right position. He lets out a little whimper, and hates himself for doing so, just a little bit, but fuck, that hurts.

The stairs are a trial. His feet drag, and he would trip and fall flat on his face if it weren’t for Tommy. But then, they’re inside Phil’s house, and Tommy sits him down on Phil’s ratty little couch, and he immediately curls in on himself, hands gripping his forearms as if the pain will go away if he hugs himself hard enough.

“Okay, shirt off, Wil, let me see,” Tommy says, and he blinks dumbly for a moment.

“What?” he asks, his tongue thick and heavy in his mouth.

“No, just—you’ve got to let me see what’s wrong, yeah?”

“‘S old man aches,” he mumbles, but doesn’t try to fight it when Tommy begins manhandling his arms, pushing at his coat sleeves.

“What the fuck are you on about?” Tommy demands. “You’re not that old. Who do you think you are, Philza fucking Minecraft? Come on, just let me see—” He finally manages to get the coat off, and then the shirt, and his skin erupts in gooseflesh as it’s exposed to the air. Tommy freezes.

“What?” he asks. “What is it, what’s—”

“I don’t,” Tommy says, running a hand through his hair, “I don’t, Wilbur, I don’t know what this is, I don’t—holy shit, that’s actually kind of scary. Um! No, nevermind, don’t pay attention to me, just keep um, breathing! Breathing is good! Breathing exercises!” He breathes in and out, loud and exaggerated. “See, just like that. I’m just gonna—”

And he puts a hand out, and before Wilbur can stop him, he rests it on his back. Light and cautious, but still too much, and Wilbur stuffs a fist into his mouth to stop himself from screaming. In the same motion, he flinches away, violently, but the damage has already been done. Because the contact hurts, a lot, but what’s worse is the horror, because in the split second that Tommy’s hand touched his skin, he could feel the way that it is wrong, that his back is wrong, that there is something terribly wrong. Because there are ridges protruding from his back, long and thick and raised, and it’s wrong and it hurts and Tommy’s right, actually, this is scary, he’s fucking scared.

“Shit, shit, shit,” Tommy is saying, “I’m so sorry, I’m so fucking sorry, I won’t do that again, I’m so sorry, Wilbur, are you okay? Please be okay, please—”

He nods, though it’s more like he lets his head fall and then painstakingly brings it back up a little.

“Okay, I think we need—” Tommy says. “I think that I don’t know what to do, so I think we need—” He takes a deep breath. “Phil! Phil!” Loud, panicked, earsplitting. Wilbur winces. “Phil! He is home, isn’t he? Phil!”

A second passes, and then, drifting up from the basement, a distant, “Tommy? Everything good?”

“Phil, get up here right fucking now!”

There is a beat of silence, and then there are footsteps, quiet at first but growing closer, and they are quick, hurried. Phil must have detected the genuine fear in Tommy’s voice, because Tommy and Phil generally stand on very shaky ground with each other, so while Phil will typically indulge Tommy in his whims, it depends on the day as to how far he’ll go, how quick he’ll respond. But it’s only a moment or two before Phil’s head pokes out of the floor, his hands clinging to the ladder, his face twisted in confusion.

“What on earth is the matter?” he asks, and then breaks off as his eyes land on Wilbur, who—he must be a sight. He doesn’t know. He doesn’t care. But terror flashes across Phil’s face, and he is crossing the floor in an instant, hands hovering over him, fluttering helplessly, though thankfully, he doesn’t touch.

“What’s wrong, where are you hurt, what—” The words come out in a jumbled flurry, but he stops just as abruptly, and Wilbur knows that he is looking at the horror show that is his back.

“It hurts, Phil,” he whispers.

“Okay,” Phil says, sounding—still concerned, but perhaps marginally calmer? “Okay, you’re going to be alright. I think I know what this is.” He settles himself on the couch right next to him and opens his arms, and Wilbur doesn’t hesitate before leaning forward, slumping against him. Phil seems to know better than to put any kind of pressure on his back, and instead places one hand on his arm and the other on the back of his head, threading his fingers through his hair.

“Then what the fuck is it?” Tommy demands.

“Tommy, I need you to run over to Techno’s and ask him for something for pain, and something for sleep. Can you do that for me?” Phil asks instead of answering, and perhaps Wilbur should be terrified by the implication that he’s going to need either of those things, but the promise of some kind of relief overrides any kind of trepidation.

“Like fuck I will,” Tommy says, “Not before you tell me what the fuck is wrong with him!”

Another convulsion wracks him. He bites his lip to keep from crying out, and tastes blood. His breath is hitching, and he can’t stop it.

“Tommy.” Phil’s voice is sharp, but then, Wilbur feels rather than hears him sigh. “It’s wings, I think. I don’t understand why now, but I went through this a long time ago, when I was very young. I recognize the signs. So Tommy, please.”

Tommy makes a surprised little sound. Wilbur isn’t looking, has his face buried in Phil’s shoulder, but he can imagine the look on his face: the slack jaw, the wide open eyes. And then, there are rushed footsteps retreating, and the door slamming, and Tommy’s muffled voice calling out for Technoblade.

And then, Wilbur processes what Phil just said.

He twists his head around so he can see his face, regretting it a moment later. Any kind of movement seems to make the pain worse, and he has to take a moment to tremble through it.

“Wings?” he whispers. “How?”

He’s never had wings.

If he were going to have wings, he would have gotten them a long time ago. He remembers nights spent as a child, staying up and hoping for feathered appendages to somehow miraculously appear on his back, just so he could be more like his dad. He remembers the crushing disappointment when he finally accepted that no matter how much divine blood runs in his veins, it is apparently not enough.

But he did accept it. He accepted it years ago. There is absolutely no reason for him to be developing wings now, as a fully-grown adult, but Phil sounds so very sure, and his back hurts so very much, and perhaps that’s consistent with actual appendages trying to sprout out of him.

“I don’t know,” Phil says. “I’ve never heard of it happening so late, even in avians. Which, I’m not exactly, but I got mine when I was a kid like they do, and I don’t—I don’t know, Wil, I really don’t, but I remember what it was like, yeah? I know what to do. It’s gonna suck for a little while, but you’re going to be fine, I promise.”

“Okay,” he croaks, “okay—” and then he has to stop talking, because the pain flares again, bright and intense and holy shit, but it’s worse this time, because now that he knows what’s going on, he can feel them. He can feel things inside of him, pushing against his muscles and his skin in ways that absolutely should not be possible, and there is too much of him to be contained in his body, and there are things inside of him trying to escape—

It’s almost like the way he gets when he thinks about the void too hard. Except not, because when he does that, he feels the urge to dissolve away, gently and peacefully, to let himself back into the quiet that is not quiet and the darkness that is not dark, where all the knowledge of the world is at his fingertips, too much for a mortal brain to contain and remain sane. That is not this. This is his own body trying to explode. There is no peace, no dissolution; it’s messy and physical and Prime he just wants it to stop.

He shifts in Phil’s grasp, fruitlessly trying to find a position that takes the pressure off, a little bit. It’s no use, of course, because he can still feel something moving under the skin of his back, and his vision whites out, and when he comes back to himself, he’s shivering, shivering and shaking and sobbing in Phil’s hold, and he doesn’t remember when he started crying but he can’t seem to make himself stop. Phil is keeping up a steady stream of soothing nonsense, and he latches onto the sound of his voice like it’s the only lifeline he has.

And then the door bursts open, and Wilbur doesn’t bother trying to look, but there are two sets of footsteps, not just one.

“Here,” Tommy says, panting, and there are several thumps, and several clinks, glass on glass.

“Oh god, don’t—and he’s doing it, he’s just dumping all of that on the floor. Don’t break those, Tommy, those aren’t splash pots. Have you never handled a potion before.” Technoblade pauses for a moment. “So, what exactly’s wrong with him? The child was making no sense at all.”

Wilbur thinks he detects a note of concern. But he’s not thinking clearly, and it’s always hard to tell anyway, with Technoblade.

“He’s got wings growing in,” Phil responds, voice clipped. Wilbur feels his hand leave his arm, and he whines at the loss of touch. And then another spasm, and he whines again, pressing his face harder into Phil’s shirt.

“Oh. Huh. Yes, that makes perfect sense, of course.”

Phil’s arm dips a bit, and Wilbur finds himself being moved, his head gently tilted back. Phil’s face comes into view, pale and blurry.

“You want to drink this for me, Wil?” he says, and then there is glass at his lips, and he parts them immediately. He doesn’t like being knocked out, doesn’t like the loss of control that comes with it, but if he has to be aware for another five minutes, he’s not going to be able to keep himself from screaming aloud.

He swallows, grimacing at the taste. The effects start hitting right away. His mind detaches from himself, and the pain drains from him. Every muscle goes lax.

He exhales.

“There we go,” Phil murmurs, “there we go. It’s gonna be alright, Wil. I’ll be here the whole time. You’re gonna be okay.”

The world falls away. He lets it. He trusts his father to catch him.

----------

He wakes up a few times, and each time, it hurts. Phil is always there, and usually, Tommy too, and sometimes Techno, and he can barely move but they always see that he’s awake, and they give him a potion and he’s under again, and he’s glad for it, because those moments of consciousness are a spiral of pain and confusion and his thoughts flying apart because he barely understands what’s going on or why he’s hurting and he just wants it to go away.

And then there is the time he wakes up and he thinks somebody is cutting his back open, and he can feel his own blood on his skin, sticky and hot, and he thrashes, trying to get away, and that makes the pain so much worse, and the sound that comes out of his mouth is inhuman, and he fights until a potion is poured down his throat and it’s back to sleep again.

And then there is the time he wakes up, and people are talking in low, hushed tones. He can’t make out what they’re saying. He cracks his eyes open, and it’s Phil and Technoblade, deep in some discussion, both looking terribly concerned. He decides he’ll ask what’s wrong later, and then closes his eyes and goes back to sleep again.

And then there is the time he wakes up, and some part of him is moving, and he doesn’t understand what it is because it’s not any of his limbs, not his arms and not his legs, and it feels alien and foreign and his back feels like it’s been shoved under a woodchipper and then tossed through a paper shredder for good measure, and he’s not aware enough to know why, so he panics. There is a bit of the void that still dwells in his heart, and he calls on it, cries out to it, and it answers, comes rushing in around him, and his mind expands to peer into galaxies.

Philza is at his side a moment later, and he is able to look at him and see all the weight of years that lie behind his eyes, and all the years that lie ahead of him, and the moment of his death, all spiraling out like a tapestry and like a mass, and the music is atonal, confused, but a closer glance reveals it to be twelve-tone, order in the chaotic lines. Wilbur is with the void again, and his heart still beats, but it’s a near thing, and he could stop it if he chose.

“Do you want to know, Philza?” he asks, words spilling from his lips like rain, like the river, like the flood. “Do you want to know when it will happen? I can see it. I can see how some part of you wants it. All our histories are like tangled up threads, but they all come to an end, and I can see those endings, Philza, I can tell you about them if you like.”

Pain constricts Philza’s face, and Wilbur doesn’t know why. He doesn’t know who wouldn’t love the void and its peace and its everything.

“I know, Wilbur,” Philza says, “I know, but how about you come back to me now, okay? Come back to me?”

“We’re all little bits of code, Philza,” he informs him. “None of us are real. We’re little bits of code and words on a page and lines in a script written by our better selves. Nothing in this world really matters. We might as well have all the fun we can before the lights go out. Do you want to know when that will be, Philza? Not too long after you, Philza. Not too long at all. I told Tommy, he knows, he didn’t want to know but that’s alright, he’s better off for it, if he hasn’t forgotten.”

“Come back, Wil, come on,” Philza says, “you can do it. You’ve got a heartbeat, do you feel it?”

Philza takes his hand and places it over his heart, and—that’s right. He’s alive. He’d forgotten. The void spins, and then it tucks itself away again, waiting for the next moment he needs it, and he is left with only vague impressions of what he’s just said and a vague idea that everything hurts and something is wrong with his back and he’d like to go to sleep now, please.

“Alright, yeah,” Phil says, “here, you can have this, you can sleep. You’re doing so well, Wil, I promise it’s almost done.”

He takes the potion. Or tries to; Phil has to hold it for him.

“Okay,” he says faintly. “I’m sorry.”

“You’ve nothing to be sorry for,” he hears Phil say, very far away. “So long as you come back, everything’s okay.”

He goes back to sleep again. He thinks he wakes up a few more times, but he doesn’t really remember. He doesn’t really want to.

----------

And then: awareness.

The first thing he processes is that everything aches, deeply and acutely, but none of it feels nearly as bad as it did before, and not even as bad as it’s been over the past couple of weeks. It’s irritating, painful, but more than manageable, really, practically a relief. The second thing he processes is that he’s lying on his stomach, and that there is something weighing him down.

His mind puzzles over this for a moment. He tries to roll over, to see what’s going on, but something stops him, and then he remembers: wings.

He’s got wings. There are wings on his back. Growing out of him. A part of his body. Wings.

As soon as he realizes that, he becomes aware of them. And it is so very strange, to suddenly have access to two extra limbs, to suddenly have additional body parts to move about and control. It’s a feeling impossible to describe, and he has to take several minutes to process it, to try to become accustomed to it. It doesn’t really work, but he tries moving them anyway, just a bit of a flex, and—

Ouch.

He groans, shoving his face into the pillow. A mistake. That was a mistake. He’d rather like to go back to sleep now and pretend that none of this is happening.

But his vocalization draws attention, and then there is a hand on his shoulder, gently brushing him just enough to feel, not enough to pain him. He turns his head to the side, reluctantly, and Phil is kneeling beside him, his face open and soft and clearly relieved, his lips curling into a slight smile.

“Hey,” he says. “How you feeling, Wil?”

He considers this, and decides on honesty. “Bit like I’ve been caught between a piston and a wall for the past couple of days,” he admits. “Better than before, though.”

“Good to hear,” Phil says, and then his face goes a bit more serious. “How much of that do you remember?”

“Not much?” he says. “I don’t think? Impressions, I guess. I know I wasn’t having a good time. I’m glad I don’t remember it too clearly. I was out for most of it, yeah?”

“Most of it,” Phil agrees, and Wilbur thinks that perhaps there is something he’s not saying, but he doesn’t feel like pressing the matter. He can guess what it is, anyway; there is a chill in his chest, and his thoughts feel just slightly more fractured than usual, so it’s not hard to assume what might have happened. Not hard to assume where he might have gone. He’s sure he’ll feel terrible about it when everything stops feeling so surreal.

He has wings.

“It’s over now?” he asks, and winces at the way his voice cracks. “It’s done?”

Phil’s eyes do the thing where they go immeasurably soft and crinkly at the edges, and it’s love and relief and sadness all at once. “It’s done,” he agrees, and then hesitates. “You’re not gonna be able to fly on them for a while, but would you like to see?”

He doesn’t understand why Phil is being so cautious about it. Of course he wants to see. If he’s going to be put through hell, he wants to see what came of it. He wants it to be worth it.

“Usually, when wings grow in, they’re all downy and shit. Like a baby bird,” Phil says, probably in response to whatever face he’s sure he’s making. “Flight feathers come in over the next few weeks.” He pauses again, and Wilbur thinks he understands his reticence, now, understands the still-present concern.

“But that’s not what happened with mine,” he states, and Phil shakes his head.

“Yours are fully fledged,” he says. “Probably part of why it hurt so much. I don’t know why, Wil. But do you wanna have a look?”

Wordless, he nods, and Phil takes that as his cue to reach out and help him sit upright. It’s far more effort than it should be, compounded by the fact that his sense of balance feels all wrong, and that’s going to take some getting used to, he can already tell. And he’s sore, like he’s run a marathon or fought another half dozen wars all in one go, and his head spins a little bit when he finally situates himself. He closes his eyes against it, breathing in sharply.

He feels Phil guiding his wings forward, into his field of vision. He opens his eyes.

They are very big, is the first thing he notices. They would have to be, of course, to hold his weight up. Magic and suspension of disbelief only stretches so far. They are very large, and the feathers are very large, and they are very angular and neat as well, so neat that someone has to have arranged them while he was unconscious, because there’s no way that they came out looking like that.

The color, though. The color. He swallows, hard.

They are black, perhaps. They look black. But he knows on an instinctive level that they are black in the same way that the void is black, and that if someone were to stare at them for too long, they would realize as much, would realize that actually, they are not black at all, but rather some color or some lack of color that is beyond human comprehension. The void translates as black to the human mind because it is as close as the human mind can get to true perception, and most of the time, Wilbur remembers it as black, but it was not, and his wings are not, and he is never going to be free of it, is he?

On some level, he knew that. Knew that the void is in him and about him, and no matter what he does, it will never leave him completely, not after all the years he spent with it, intertwined with the infinite nothing. But now he has wings on his back, and they should be a connection between him and Phil, should be something to celebrate, but he stares at the plumage and feels sick to his stomach.

“Wil?” Phil asks. He sounds confused, sounds worried by his reaction. “You okay, mate?”

He’s not sure how to phrase this in a way that Phil will understand. Not sure that he wants to.

“Void,” he manages, voice a broken whisper. “They look like void, Phil.”

He looks up just in time to see Phil’s face crumple.

“Wil—”

“They look just like it, Phil,” he continues. “Just like it. And I know I’m not always good about, about being here, about keeping myself stable, but I’m trying. I try to ignore it when it calls, I try not to reach out to it, and when I fail, I, I try to come back, I do, I swear. I can’t—I can’t have these, Phil, they’re from it, that’s why I’m getting them now, maybe it triggered something, I don’t know, but I can’t, Phil, I can’t—”

He reaches out toward them, intending to do—something, maybe, and Phil must have a better idea than he does, because his hand darts out and snags his, stopping him in his tracks.

“No, Wil, don’t do that, okay? We can work on it, we’ll figure it out, but please don’t—”

“You’re up!”

He and Phil both freeze, and as one, look to the door. Tommy is standing there, grinning like nobody’s business, and Technoblade is lurking behind him, his face contorted into an expression that looks like he wants to murder someone but really just means he’s feeling very awkward.

Tommy glances back and forth between the two of him, and his face slowly falls.

“Is everything okay?” he asks. “Nothing—I mean, it all went right, didn’t it?”

He blinks. Tilts his head slightly. Gently removes his hand from Phil’s grasp, and then spreads out his wings behind him, putting them on full display, as far out as he can make them go, and it aches and he’s not going to be able to hold them there for long, but it’s worth it. He wants Tommy to see. Because Tommy will know. Tommy remembers. And unlike him, Tommy hates to remember. Tommy hates the void. So perhaps this is an act of self-sabotage. That’s what Captain Puffy would say. But he does it anyway, because he wants someone else to see and understand, understand in a way he knows Phil won’t be able to.

“I’ve got void wings, Tommy,” he says, and a smile splits his face. “See them?”

Tommy’s eyes widen, and he flinches.

Gratification is not nearly as sweet as he thought it would be. Actually, he just sort of feels like crying.

But then, Tommy’s brows draw together. And he steps further into the room, coming closer and closer until he’s standing right up against the bed, staring at the feathers. Wilbur holds himself very still.

“I see,” Tommy says slowly, “but Wilbur, I’m not sure you do.”

“What are you talking about?” he asks, and cranes his neck to try to see whatever Tommy’s looking at. For a moment, he doesn’t; there’s just the feathers, void feathers, death feathers, a reminder that—

But arctic sunlight slants through the window, and if he shifts his angle just a little bit—

The noise that escapes him is small and involuntary. He hopes no one calls him on it, but that’s the least of his concerns right now. Because the colors do not change, not exactly, but if he holds them to the light, the sun illuminates the feathers, haloing their edges in gold, and there is a sheen of color running across them, a sheen that ripples and moves as he shifts them in the sunbeam, and it is a beautiful, rich blue.

And they’re lovely.

“Oh,” he says, and Tommy laughs at him, the fucking gremlin.

“Yeah, fucking oh,” he says. “You’re such a moron. They’re so fucking ace, Wilbur.”

“I think that maybe you need to work on rememberin’,” Technoblade says from the doorway, “that you’re the sum of all your experiences, and not just one.”

Wilbur stares at him.

“Oh my god,” he finally says. “That’s so cheesy. Who the hell are you and what have you done with Technoblade?”

“Alright,” Techno grumbles, “see if I do anythin’ nice for you ever again. I didn’t come up here to receive this kind of treatment. This is an outrage.”

He laughs. He laughs, from the sheer relief of it, and his trepidation is melting away like snow in the sunshine, and he can allow himself to revel in it, to revel in the wings on his back, and he is sore and tired but this is what glory feels like, maybe, and perhaps he can fly into the air and there will be no wax to drip away.

Perhaps these wings are of the void, but they are of him, too.

And he looks to Phil again, and Phil is smiling at him, warm and happy. His own wings are flared out behind him, tattered at the edges, so many feathers torn or still missing entirely, and the more time that passes, the more and more likely it is that those feathers are never going to grow back, that Phil truly will never fly again. Phil has already resigned himself to it, he knows, but Wilbur has never given up hope, will never be able to bring himself to give up hope.

“It’s not fair that I can fly when you can’t,” he says quietly, and the room goes still and quiet. Especially when it’s my fault, he doesn’t say, though he knows everyone hears it.

“Wil,” Phil says, “nothing could bring me more joy than this.”

And Wilbur hears what he means: you, here.

So he flexes his wings and revels in the ache and revels in the sunshine and revels at his family, here, his father sitting by him and his friend-protege-brother poking at curiously at his feathers and Technoblade still in the doorway, not leaving even for all his grumbling. He revels in this, revels in this life, and for a time, the void recedes entirely.

And in its wake is the sunlight.

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shyrose57 · 3 years ago

Note

Caught up on Starlit and have ideas

1. One day when Tommy is very tired, like can barely keep track of where his stitching is under his fingers tired, two versions of Karl show up at the shop from different times simultaneously. Tommy sees them both, assumes he’s just seeing double from exhaustion and finally decides that he needs to go to sleep, or at least get more caffeine. Neither mention this happening when he’s slightly more lucid.

2. Time Police stopping in the shop to try and find Karl is a semi-regular occurrence and some of the Time Police start to get attached to Tommy, even though they’re like 90% sure that he’s hiding a “dangerous time criminal”. He’s been commissioned to make their uniforms before and most of them even do what they can to avoid him falling under the suspicion of their superiors when it’s pretty obvious that he is in fact helping Karl

3. When Tommy made his first new material by accidentally spilling a potion on some cloth, it was because he sneezed, meaning that he didn’t actually see the physical transformation and just assumed that he had misplaced the material he had been working with beforehand

4. Mumza semi-adopting him and giving him materials that he shouldn’t be capable of seeing, never mind manipulating into clothing. She gets a gorgeous new gown for Mother’s Day that year made with the literal fabric of the void and starlight weave that makes it look like a clear night sky or the depths of the ocean depending on how you look at it. She gives him a hug when she gets it and he swears that it feels just like when Clara and Clementine used to hug him. He totally didn’t cry when it happened, how dare you accuse him of crying, he is a Big Man TM, he’s never cried a day in his life, tears? never heard of them. (yes, he would like another hug, thank you)

5. Part of why Tommy doesn’t take pictures of some of the pieces he makes using the magical fabrics (which he thinks are just obscure) is because they never show up correctly in photos. They’re always too dull in color, you can’t properly see the way the fabric seems almost to float lightly across the other layers, sometimes there’s weird blurring that just ruins the look. He stopped trying after the fifth time or so.

6. While Ranboo prefers making accessories, he also discovered that he has a talent for book binding. He tends to make his own journals these days. He and Tommy also sometimes work together to make clothing and journal sets that are usually bought by royal courtiers who need an easy way to hold on to sensitive information that goes seamlessly with their outfit. Sometimes the journals can even be embedded into the outfit to make them more secure

7. The more acclaim that Tommy’s work gets with non-humans, the more that move into town. Most of the humans that used to live there move away over the years. Despite the influx of non-humans, Tommy somehow remains oblivious as ever. Tubbo has no clue how

Hope you like these!

!!!!!!

Karl one, and Karl two both give Tommy a nod and start browsing. He nods back, bags what they buy, writes down Karl two's commission, and then closes shop early and goes to bed. At some point, even he has to recognize that he's been awake for too long.

Meanwhile, Ranboo's just staring wide-eyed from a corner and wondering if this is normal in this dimension. Tubbo never answers him on that.

Time Police Boss: And what of the tailor? Have you discovered any evidence that he's hiding the fugitive?

Random Time Police, watching Karl push some past variant of Quackity out the door while another Karl frantically bags and pays for a hoodie while Tommy watches on with dead eyes behind the Boss's back: No sir.

He spends an hour looking for that fabric until he gives up and just decides to use the new one-it's for Wilbur anyway, he won't care about the fabric type, as long as it's the same color.

Or so he thought, but a day later, the man looks like he's about to start crying as he holds it.

Mumza!! She gives him...a little....skeleton calf for his birthday, and he names it Henry.

That'd be so confusing if he ever posted them. Clients come in expecting drab clothes and get slapped in the face with color and elegant designs-are the stars on that dress moving?!

Oh, that sounds so cool!! Journals that match with the outfits, enchanted by Ranboo or Tubbo or someone to be extra secure, or left blank so the owners can do it.

The two call orders for these the Allium Duo order.

There will be a literal dragon just chilling on some modern castle recently added and Tommy won't notice because he's trying to steal his pencil back from a not-squirrel and just. Never looked up.

These are so cool, thank you for sending them in.

#Starlit Boutique AU #dream smp au #dream smp #tommyinnit #ranboo #karl jacobs

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starrywolf101 · 4 years ago

Text

My brain just connected The Egg to The Guy Who Didn't Like Musicals and–

I feel like I've got this 6th sense for angst potential.

Tommy just wanted Phil to be proud of him... why didn't his dad even acknowledge him? Was he ashamed of him?

He didn't even come for the hotel... maybe Tommy should've counted himself lucky because Phil had a track record of destroying the things his sons' loved. L'Manberg was Wilbur's pride, yet Phil blew that up.

And then there was the egg... while it didn't really affect him, Sam Nook told him to destroy it. But, Tommy didn't want to. It made people happy, like Bad and Ant! If he destroyed it, would it start another war?

Maybe... if it made others happy, it could make him happy to?

So here Tommy was, standing in front of the egg once more. He could hear the hissing whispers fighting to invade his mind. Footsteps were running up from behind him, and Tommy turned to look. There was Bad, sword held at the ready.

"What are you doing, Tommy?"

The boy hums, dull blue eyes meeting blinding white. "Is it true?"

"Huh?"

"Does the egg give you anything you want?"

Taken aback, Bad lowers his sword. "Well– yeah-"

"Can it make me happy? Will it take away the hurt?"

Seating his weapon, Bad walks over to Tommy and puts a hand on his shoulder. Grinning, Bad's voice takes on a sweet tone: "Of course, Tommy! Here, just touch it and submit, and all the bad memories will feel like nothing more than bad dream."

Tommy presses his forehead against the egg, it's surface giving off a dull warmth... its almost comforting. Like a hug from his dad... he gives in, allowing the whispering to settle into his mind....

Techno and Phil took a trip to the main SMP area, the weird egg cult was starting to become more like a government and they decided it was time to gather some information to take it out. While Phil hasn't directly interacted with the egg, Ranboo and Techno had.

The two of them sneak into cavern housing the egg, only to be surprised by someone being there. Surprisingly, it was Tommy, though the boy was nothing like his usual self. He spoke quietly to someone invisible, and the way he held himself was alien. When he turned to look at the two intruders, his eyes shined a bright red— no blue anywhere in sight. Red tendrils traveled down his cheeks from his eyes much like dried tear-stains. An unnatural grin stretched across his face.

"Philza Minecraft! Blade! Nice to see you! Have you met my friend, The Egg?"

"Tommy...?"

"It was just telling me the funniest thing! About how you, Techno, didn't want to join in on the fun!" Tommy took a step towards them, and never before would Techno have thought this kid could be unnerving. "But I just couldn't believe it! I said– I said 'Now, Egg, why wouldn't The Blade want to join in? He's a fun guy, I can vouch for him!'"

Tommy took another step towards Techno, head tilting as his eyes bore straight through him. Then his attention snaps over to Phil, who instantly flares out his wings to appear bigger. Like prey trying to scare off a predator

"Phiiil, mah friend! I think you would benefit the most from just a talk with The Egg! Did you know it can take all that guilt away?"

Grimacing, Phil steps back from Tommy. "What do I have to feel guilty about? I'm perfectly happy with my life as it is."

The expression on Tommy's face turns malicious. "Well, seeing how you're a failure of a father, I would think you'd want to forget about it. You've killed not one, but both of your sons. Their blood is on your hands."

"That's enough–" Techno could see the pain on Phil's face, so he tried to stop the conversation. Too bad that didn't deter Tommy from continuing.

"Tommy's dead because daddy didn't love him enough."

Phil looks like he was just slapped, and he reaches out for Tommy. "My son..."

Tommy pulls away, still grinning. "I'm not your son anymore. I overtook his mind and body with an infectious spore!"

Techno hears noises up above... voices. They needed to leave quickly. "Phil!" Techno calls out to his friend. Yet, Phil doesn't budge from his spot, staring at Tommy. "We need to go before we're caught!"

"You're gonna leave me again? Why not stay and join us! You could have your family back— you can have Tommy and Wilbur back, don't you want to that?"

Phil nods, tears in his eyes as he stepped forward towards Tommy– towards the egg. Suddenly, the older man is yanked back by Techno, "WAIT! We can't leave Tommy!"

"Goddamn it, Phil! Thats not Tommy! We can save him later by destroying that damn egg, now let's go before its too late!"

"Just like always, you run away from your problems with your favorite." Tommy spite out, and it just sounded so real– Phil wants to run to his son and wrap him up in his arms and wings. "Fine. Its not my fault anymore. No more anxiously waiting by the door."

Phil doesn't turn to face Tommy as Techno leafs him out of the cave. Tears build up in his eyes as the consequences of his actions weigh down on his shoulder.

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strawberrylemonz · 4 years ago

Text

Past and Present

Part 12

Part 13 [CURRENT]

Part 14

DT: @petrichormeraki @applepie1000 @jump-in-the-cadillac @ivorylin @sydneys-sketches

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Tommy quickly slapped a hand over his mouth, but it was too late. The group in front of them turned to face the source of the group. Tommy mentally smacked himself upside the head as he pulled Fundy behind him, the Lovely Trio slipping behind him as Kristin and Grian stepped in front of Sam and Puffy, who held the children close. It wasn’t until three familiar faces made their way to him, that he felt like breaking. It wasn’t because Phil was there, concern and relief flooding his face as he looked over Tommy. It wasn’t because Techno was looming over them, facial expression unchanging, only betrayed by the several emotions going through his eyes. It wasn’t because of Ghostbur, because Ghostbur wasn’t floating there. He wasn’t even floating he was standing. There, standing with his hands stuffed into his pockets, stood Wilbur, who was very much alive. The three of them stepped towards the youngest member of their family, the one they missed so dearly, only to stop when he put his hands up in defense, stepping closer to the fox shifter behind him.

“Wilbur, you’re...you’re-”

“Tommy, you’re okay!”

Everyone on the Dream SMP frowned as Tommy made an “eh” noise, making a balancing movement with his hand as he peered back at the group behind him, all who, aside from Sam and Puffy, made similar noises and movements back at them. Much to their embarrassment, they were the only ones who found amusement to it. Regaining his composure, Tommy turned back to Kristin, giving her pleading eyes. She nodded before nudging Grian, who was already moving to pick up Theo. Clem smiled as she climbed into the embrace of her grandmother, hugging her with delight. After being reassured that the children were away from the group, Tommy returned his gaze to the members of his older server.

“Let’s go to a more private space. I would very much like you all more if you don’t start anything unnecessary during my opening.”

Without waiting for a response, Tommy turned and, after ensuring Fundy was safely in front of him, began walking out of the cavern, everyone else following behind. As he waved to guests and Hermits alike, he led the group into one of the larger taverns. Taking out a keycard from behind the automated desk, he patted the robot working there before walking over to a large set of double door. Humming a tune that caught Wilbur’s attention, he inserted the keycard and pushed the doors open, leading the group in. He closed the door after the last two people, who happened to be a very disgruntled Jack and Niki. After everyone was sat down in their own seats, they all exchanged uncertain looks. Finally, Fundy decided it was best to break the silence.

“So, I see the resurrection was successful.”

“Yeah, we managed to get Wilbur bac-”

“You have a son.”

Tommy saw Fundy stiffen beside him as the voice of Wilbur spoke up, quieter than they remembered. Fundy pressed his lips in a thin line as he peered up to his newly revived father. Giving him a little nod Fundy cleared his throat as he scratched the back of his neck.

“Yeah, I do. He’s great, you know. Very smart and fun, sneaky too.”

“Do I know who your significant other is?”

“I wouldn’t call him my significant other, we aren’t together. He was very...the situation was...we didn’t work out. But, yeah, you know him. You all do, actually.”

“Who is it?”

“Dream”

Fundy quickly spoke the name, reeling back as he waited for the expected backlash. Hesitating for a moment, he almost believed that, much like the situation with Tommy, he would receive no backlash. He was, however, quickly proven wrong. The only other revived man there was the first to speak up.

“WHAT?!”

“YOU FUCKED DREAM?!”

“LANGUAGE!”

“THE FURRY FUCKED GOD, OH MY FUCKING ENDER-”

“George? George, can you hear me? Dude, blink if you can hear me-”

“When we said ‘suck it green boy’, we didn’t mean literally!”

“How did you manage to get him to-”

As the chaos began to rise, Fundy began to shrink in his seat, panic settling in. Taking note of this, Tommy frowned as he tried to settle everyone down. When no one responded to him, he grew frustrated. Getting annoyed, Tubbo sat up to yell at the source of the chaos, only to find that he was beat to it. With a loud foot stomp, a booming voice yelled over the chaos.

“Will you all shUT UP?!”

Silence filled the room as everyone turned to face the source of the yell. There, fists clenched tightly by her side, stood Drista. Everyone hesitated about her next course of action, as the eyes on her mask seemed to glow with her annoyance. As she sat down, crossing her arms and legs together, she huffed as she prepared to speak up once more. Much to her annoyance, however, the door to the room creaked open, a new presence creeping in.

“Sorry I’m late, you all have seem to have forgotten me back on my server.”

Everyone watched as the figure approached, Fundy shrinking in his seat. Tommy stiffened in his own, one hand in Tubbo’s, the other clamped around Fundy’s wrist. Tubbo, on the other hand, glared at the floor as he held onto Tommy’s hand, as if that alone would solve their issues. The figure, now more visible to be Dream, hummed as he stood in between the three boys and the members of his server. Seeming to only focus on the three, he crossed his arms as he laughed.

“Wow, I didn’t think I’d see you three again. Tommy, Tubbo, it’s been years. Good to see you two in good shape. Fundy, I haven’t seen you in a little over two years. Didn’t think that I’d find you here, of all places. Did you all miss m-”

SMACK

Everyone stared in shock as Dream held onto his face, trying to keep his mask steady as he regained his balance. Once he quickly regained his composure, he quickly turned to face his “attacker.” Standing in all her glory, stood his sister, hands on her hips as she stood there, anger simmering underneath her mask. As she stood up straight, she hummed in acknowledgment as Lani walked up beside her, leaning on her for support. Holding her hand out, Lani smirked as Drista gave her a high five. The beginning of their best friend handshake was cut short, however, when Dream spoke up once again.

“Drista? When did you get here? Is this where you’ve been? Why haven’t you come by to visit me-”

“Oh, I don’t know, why did you never reach out to me? And if you had bothered to show up to the revealing of the park on time, you would have known where I’ve been. Now sit down and stay quiet so we can all catch up.”

“And none of you better try attacking! All guests are unable to do any form of pvp that’s not in any of the special arenas, so don’t even try!”

“Yeah, what Lani said!”

--------

The group was walking to the opposite side of Tavern Town, towards the booth games. Fundy was walking with Quackity and Karl, telling them of al the projects he had done since he last saw them. Not trusting her brother at all, Drista walked beside Dream, Lani joining in on keeping an eye on the admin. Tubbo was catching up with Ranboo, as well as timidly speaking with an unusually kind Schlatt. Humming as he walked in the front of the group, Tommy bopped his head as he replayed a song in his head. Opening his mouth, he quietly sang out the lyrics that swam in his head.

“He’s in your bed-”

“-I’m in your Twitch chat”

Jumping slightly, Tommy turned to see Wilbur, walking up to be by his side. Joining him in this was both Phil and Techno, the three of them as awkward as ever. Unsure as to what to expect from them, Tommy just gave them a nod of acknowledgment. As much as he wanted to embrace the three of them into a grand hug, telling them how much he missed and loved them, he didn’t dare to do so. After all the years they spent away from each other, he was able to reflect and forgive them for the wrong things they’ve done to him, intentional or not. What he didn’t know, however, was how they viewed him after all these years. Did they forgive him for all the troublesome chaos he caused, intentional or not? Could they find it in themselves to do so? He didn’t blame them if they didn’t, he wasn’t even sure if he would.

“You know, we thought that you had died, mate. No one had seen you in so long after...after L’manburg. And I know he isn’t family, but he practically was, so it was concerning when Tubbo went missing too. Then, out of nowhere, Fundy was gone overnight. I thought I lost my family, so I became desperate to get Wilbur back so that the three of us could get you all back.”

“Why?”

“What do you mean, mate?”

“Why get us back? Why want us as family?”

Did he forgive them? Yes, of course he did. Doesn’t mean that he had to forget their actions, as well as the consequences that came from them. Doesn’t mean that he wasn’t allowed to question their decisions. He still loved them, sure, but he needed answers. He needed to know if they loved him back, if they loved all of them. He watched as Wilbur was in deep thought, trying to find the right words to say. He turned to see Phil, emotion running through his face as he stared at Tommy, not knowing what to say to his questions. The last person he thought would speak up, spoke up.

“We were blinded by our own emotions, Thes- er, Tommy. That’s not an excuse for our impulsive decisions, especially ones that put your life at stake, we know this. But we are family, as much as I tried to run away from that fact over the last few years. I let the voices and the power that I held as a pvp god distract me from my original mission.”

“Original mission? What was that?”

“Protecting you. Well, protecting everyone in my family. I have always been protective of my family, but the first night you were brought home changed how I handled that. The moment you laughed, I knew that I had to get stronger to keep all of you safe. I never thought that I’d use that strength against the very same person who brought me to want to become stronger. I’m not going to beat around the bush, we’ve been a shit family to each other these past years. We’ve hurt you, in ways that we may not even know. But, Tommy, if you let us, we can try to be the family you deserve.”

Tommy stared at his eldest brother, surprise painting his face. Blinking a few times, he switched his gaze over to both Phil and Wilbur, before returning it to Techno. Lightly biting his tongue, he took his gaze off of the pink haired warrior and faced the front, refusing to look at any of the three men walking beside him. Finally putting proper words together in his mind, Tommy spoke up once more.

“You all have hurt me in a handful of ways, that is true. But I’ve also hurt all of you, too. For all that, I’m sorry. As for not being a family, that can’t be solved quickly. This isn’t something we can speedrun into a healthy dynamic.”

“Tommy, we-”

“But that doesn’t we still can’t heal. If you are all willing to take the time and effort to work with all of us to fix our family, I’m willing to give you that chance. Oh, and Technoblade? You can call me Theseus, it is a part of my name, after all.”

Tommy couldn’t help but smile as the tension from the three men left their bodies, relief taking its place. Peering behind him, he made eye contact with his nephew, who stared back with worry. His worry, however, melted into a content smile as Tommy gave him a reassuring nod. Waving him over, Tommy smiled as Fundy excused himself, jogging up to be at his uncle’s sign.

“Hey, Tom- Hey!”

“Haha! Look at you, being all amazing!”

“Can you not be an embarrassing uncle for five seconds?”

“Nope!”

Fundy rolled his eyes at his uncle, laughing for a while before standing up straight. Ducking his head in nervousness, he gave a shy smile and wave to his grandfather, as well as his other uncle and father. Before words were exchanged, however, a frantic wail filled the air, catching Fundy’s attention immediately. Taking a few steps in front of everyone else, he kneeled down with arms open. Running towards him was Theo, wide eyes as he reached for his father, who lifted him into the air in an instant. Burrowing his face into the neck of his father, Theo dramatically wailed once more. The concern that once filled Fundy and Tommy had melted away at this. They now knew that he wasn’t in danger, he was just overreacting. The two of them would bet anything that a certain gremlin was behind this.

“Theo, what’s wrong, buddy?”

“SHE WAS GIVEN A SWORD, WE’RE ALL GOING TO DIIIIIIEEEEE!!!!!”

Fundy and Tommy gave each other a look, both unsure as how to respond to that. A shrill shriek of joy caught the entire group’s attention. There, frantically swiping a wooden sword in the air, came a joyful Clementine at full speed. Running up to Fundy, she began to jump up and down, sword waving in the air, as she tried to reach Theo, who had managed to climb on top of his father’s head.

“DON’T LET HER REACH ME, PAPA!!! SHE’S CRAZY WITH THAT THING!!!”

Theo shrunk behind his father’s hat as Clementine reacted to his statement by growling at the fox hybrid. Sighing, Tommy scooped up the rowdy child, who squealed as she hugged the sword.

“Clem, ya can’t go around swinging a sword at your cousin. And don’t ever hug an actual sword, ever, dear god. I’d like you to keep your fucking limbs, Jesus Christ.”

Clem only responded to this with a giggly smile, turning back to face her cousins. Fundy rolled his eyes as he plucked his son off his head, cradling him in his arm as Theo hugged his father’s hat in his chest.

“Clem, what do we say when we hurt someone or make them scared?”

“SUCK IT!!!”

“For fucks sake, Clementine, no. We say that to jackasses and assholes, not to your cousin. Try again, Clem.”

“Humph, sorry, TT.”

“Hm, okay! I forgive you, CC!”

Before the children, who were now conversing in their own secret language, were introduced to everyone, a concerned Grian and Kristin ran over. Once they saw the children, they physically relaxed.

“Thank goodness they came to you guys, we nearly panicked when they ran. Things were going great, but then Clementine whacked Grian on the foot before turning her attention to Theo.”

“It’s what we expected, this is Clementine we’re talking about.”

“Grian? Is that really you?”

Grian stiffened as he turned to face Phil, Wilbur and Techno staring at him in disbelief. Rubbing his arm in uncertainty, he watched as Phil walked up to him. Eyes scanning his face, Phil let out a strangled noise as he threw his arms around Grian, never expecting to see his first missing son after all the years that passed by. Grian let out a sigh as he hugged back, a smile painted on his face. Pulling away, he let out a laugh as he turned to his brothers. Shooting Tommy a look, Grian snickered at the nod of approval given to him. Turning back to Wilbur and Techno, he let out a hearty laugh as he yelled out words that Techno knew too well.

“OH, I’M PRESSING THAT HUG BUTTON!!!”

“Wait-”

Tommy wheezed out a laugh as Wilbur and Techno were pulled into a group hug by Grian, the triplets finally being reunited. It wasn’t until they heard the choked up and shy tone that came when Phil spoke.

“Kristin? How, uh, hey! How up? What’s you? Shit, wait, no. How are you?”

“Really? Decades separated, and this is the greeting I get.”

“I didn’t mean to be-”

“At least buy me dinner, sheesh.”

#memories in the stars #memories in the stars au #hermit!tommy au #hermit!fundy #hermit!Kristin #hermit!Tommy fankid #fwt fankid theo #mcyt fanfiction #PRESS THAT HUG BUTTON POG #Grian Wilbur and Techno are triplets au #Grian Wilbur Techno and Tommy are brothers au #Clementine and Theo are at it again #Pogs for the gremlin children

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votederpycausemufins · 4 years ago

Text

And this is the end of the story. Sort of. I’m going to do one or two more ‘chapters’ that are more just... you guys send me asks about the story and I’ll compile them into a chapter or two. it can be stuff like ‘i didn’t fully understand this’ or ‘can you tell more about that’ or ‘what if X happened instead.’ I’m also doing this on the Ao3 side since more people have been commenting there, but you can still use my inbox or leave messages on this post itself, whatever works for you.

Of course, all this is possibly due to the Hermit!Tommy au being created by @petrichormeraki

Mumbo groaned as he woke up, most of his body aching for some reason. Looking around, he was glad to see he was in his own bed at least. Next to him, curled up in the covers was Jrumbot who seemed to be hooked up to his redstone chargers. Mumbo patted his son’s head before pushing himself up so he could look around.

Grumbot was propped up in a nearby chair, also asleep and charging. The door to the room was cracked open and Mumbo could hear voices coming from somewhere behind it. His eyes were then drawn to an item frame with a mask of his robot skin. At least it seemed to be similar if not exactly the same. Most likely Grian had hung it up because he sure didn’t himself.

Mumbo dragged himself out of bed and walked towards whoever was talking. Getting closer, he could recognise Tommy and Grian’s voices, but there seemed to be a third person there as well. It was probably someone from Tommy’s old world, so Mumbo wasn’t too worried.

Before he could quite tell what exactly they were discussing, they stopped as Grian noticed Mumbo walking their way. “Mumbo! You’re awake!” The avian went over and hugged Mumbo before pulling him over and using the redstoner as something to lean against, nearly pushing him over in the process. “How are you feeling?

“Like I got crushed working on a redstone project with pistons. What are you wearing?” Mumbo saw Grian’s Watcher mask, not having seen it before.

“Oh this? Well… uh, you hit your head pretty hard back there, what do you remember?” Even though the mask covered Grian’s eyes, he could tell that the avian was sending glances to Tommy and the other person in the room.

“I remember up to confronting Dream after we got you back. But much after that is a bit fuzzy. I still remember bits and pieces of course.”

“Told ya.” The unfamiliar voice spoke and Mumbo finally got the chance to turn and look where their guest was sitting. He almost drew his weapon when he saw them, but he held himself back.

“Why’s Dream here?” Mumbo hazarded a glance back to Grian, hoping for an answer but Tommy was the one to answer instead.

“Not Dream, this is Drista. She’s Dream’s sister but she’s cool.” Mumbo accepted that answer as he could see the resemblance with their taste for similar mask styles.

“Yep, sorry about that. You panicked and attacked and I clocked you over the head.” Mumbo frowned at her cheerful tone but then Grian spoke and drew his attention away from the girl.

“As for the mask, while I’m mostly fine, there’s still some stuff I’m recovering from and the Watchers panicked since someone was able to mess with me and gave me a prescription for these. I might even keep them because it helps me not go crazy when in a Watcher State.”

Mumbo nodded, glad for the explanation. Then he turned his attention to Tommy. “Tommy? I’m sorry for yelling at you earlier. I wasn’t in a good headspace at the time. I of course can’t recall everything I was thinking at the time, but either way, I want to apologize.”

Tommy just rolled his eyes. “Whatever. Grian told we what shit was going on since he talked with you. It doesn’t fucking matter.”

Mumbo started to open his mouth to reply, but Grian stopped him. “Can you go wake the kids? They’ve been charging for a while and I think they’ll want to be up now that you’re awake.” The Redstoner hesitated, but did agree and headed back to his room. Once he was far enough away, Grian sighed. “That was close.”

“I’m sure he won’t have a complete mental breakdown if you bring up the VGs.” Drista said, leaning back against the wall behind her. “If anything happens, just slap the mask back on and then pull it off, it should pull it away.”

Grian crossed his arms, wings folding tightly behind him. Even though they couldn’t see his face well, he still looked down to the ground. “It still doesn’t feel right. He essentially is always going to have one part of his life he can’t remember.”

Drista gave an exasperated groan. “Oh stop complaining! He wanted this because he wanted to stay with you for whatever reason. He can always just stay a Vault God and you can never see him again. How’s that sound?” Grian was quiet. “That’s what I thought. Welp, now that we know he’s fine, I’m out of here.” And then she was gone.

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

Tubbo didn’t stay with Crumb and Sparklez for too long, needing to get admin training from Xisuma with Ranboo. Xisuma would not admit to a single person how many times he needed to take something for the headaches he got from teaching the two of them, but after interacting with the other smp members, he was perfectly fine with the current pair.

The smp island didn’t last long as members griefed it so many times that Scar finally threw his hat down and said he wouldn’t fix it anymore. He tried two more times after that, but it was the principle of the matter. The area was moved further away to a larger chunk of land that wasn’t too close to anyone’s base so that way the smp members could still have a place to start in Hermittown but also have areas to expand to. Most people went back and forth, though Philza seemed to be taking up a permanent residence in the town.

Grumbot went to visit his grandpa once, but he quickly was given the rule of not being able to go alone after that when he immediately tried to set up an election for mayor of the town. Techno tried to attack him, but he forgot the details of Grumbot being a robot, specifically one that had extensive knowledge of political figures, and Techno being both a former prince and an anarchist, the bot had a good idea of how to defend against the warrior. He still needed repairs when Grian arrived to scold him, but no one died.

After Tubbo had learned enough from Xisuma, he went back to traveling around with his dad and Crumb. It would never be longer than a week, but it was painfully obvious when he was gone as Tommy would seem down. At the very least there were a few times that Tommy was able to go along with Tubbo to see the sights.

Tommy and Mumbo eventually warmed up to each other again, mainly because Grian forced them to do more things together. They finally seemed to officially be on good terms after dragging a few smp members into Hermit Challenges together.

Grian attempted another war, which started poorly as the smp members jumped to conclusions and escalated on their own. Tubbo and Ranboo had to step in to stop it for the hermits to give them a rundown of how wars worked on the server. There were a few hiccups after that, but for the most part, things went well.

After Hbomb had first gotten a tour of the server and had seen Cub’s base, he ended up mining a large amount of ancient debris and making a wall of it on the smp side as a social experiment. It lasted longer than he thought, but still didn’t last all that long. After a few weeks he made a second one and was pleasantly surprised to see it stand longer than the first had.

With Dream gone, things started to calm down for the smp members, but a number of them still tended to wake up thinking things were back how they used to be. Mumbo ended up buying a space close to Odea and making a therapy shop which did quite well. He was also pleasantly surprised to see the Odea store suddenly getting sales as the smp members seemed to actually want the services.

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

Grian sat on the railing on the balcony of his mansion, right under the large G. Next to him was Tommy and they looked down at the two teams of four people doing a barge box quest. Grian specifically wanted two hermits and smp members on each team for a better balance and he had even reduced the prices for the smp members specifically. Sure it was a competition, but really Grian wanted the two worlds to get along.

“Didn’t Scar say you did this in the last one?” Tommy looked over at Grian who didn’t take his eyes off the people below.

“Hmm, sort of. It’s a little different. They’re placing blocks instead of putting them in the chest. Mumbo helped with the redstone for it. It cycles placing blocks inside so you can’t just take them all out and not do anything. There’s a delay once the last block is out so after a short bit they’ll get their note saying where to fly to next.”

Tommy nodded, glad Mumbo wasn’t the one telling him this and making it sound even more complicated. “How’s he doing by the way? That war got a little crazy near the end.”

“He’s fine. I made up some excuse for the mask. Accidentally overcharged it with Watcher magic so only for extreme emergencies.”

“Sorry for being busy end-busting.”

“Not your fault. It sounds like it was fun.”

Tommy laughed. “Yeah, Tubbo only tried cheating once. Xisuma noticed almost immediately and called him up to scold him. I didn’t even realize he was doing it in the middle of a fight.”

“Speaking of, why didn’t Tubbo bring you back when he teleported home to deal with things?”

“So we could continue once he was done with that. We want to kick back and relax, not get in another war.”

“Oh, I see how it is. Our wars are too good for you!”

Tommy and Grian laughed until Grian noticed one group start flying off, the second group not that far behind. “Alright, time to head to the third checkpoint. You want a head start before I beat you there?”

“Hey Big G, that’s not fair. You got those fucking wings of yours.”

“That’s why you get a head start.” Grian smirked, making Tommy realize what was about to happen and he immediately jumped off the balcony and used a rocket to propel himself in the direction of the next checkpoint.

“See you later bird boy!”

“Not if I get you first!” Grian yelled back. He would give Tommy a few minutes, but then the gloves were off. He loved how grumpy Tommy looked when he carried the blond while flying. And any chance to make a little game of it was something Grian liked. “Alright, that’s enough time.” And then he was in the air, flying off towards his brother.

#hermit!tommy #hermit!tommy au #tommyinnit #grian #grian xelqua #watcher!grian #avian!grian #mumbo jumbo #vault god!mumbo #drista #xisumavoid #tubbo #ranboo #grumbot #jrumbot

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whyiask · 4 years ago

Text

more bitter than sweet (Ch. 2)

Masterpost Ao3 Link tw: mentioned fighting, mentioned child abuse (only mentioned offhandedly and not described in detail) Notes: (at the end because they are long)

---

A crack of lightning interrupted the relative calm of the mansion. Tommy titled his head to the side in confusion. They hadn’t predicted any thunderstorms on the weather channel. Another flash of lightning and Tommy was standing up and moving towards the door. As soon as he saw what was outside, he rushed to open it.

The wind pushed him back, but Tommy took another step forward. What appeared to be a swirling blue vortex had appeared in the middle of the courtyard. The others were already outside.

“Stay back, Tommy,” Tommy heard someone- probably Schlatt- yell. He scoffed, though the sound was ripped away by the wind. Like hell he would stay put.

A figure was barely visible, pushing through the vortex. Schlatt and Techno tensed up, ready for battle. With a strangled cry, the figure pushed themself all the way through the portal and it closed up behind them with a vwip .

Tommy staggered with the sudden lack of wind, before rushing forward to join the half-circle his siblings had formed around the stranger. They groaned and pushed up to their knees, breathing heavily.

“Uh-” Ranboo said. Everyone turned to glance at him. His eyes were blown wide as if he had seen a ghost. Ironic.

“Is it just me...or is that Niki?”

Tommy’s mind short circuited. He rushed forward to help the figure off the ground, and she looked up at him. He held a hand to his mouth and tried to keep his emotions in check.

“Niki?” He asked quietly. He didn’t have to ask. It was undeniably her, with her bubblegum pink hair and her round, open eyes, still wearing her SBI uniform. She smiled hesitantly at him.

“Hi, Tommy,” She said, brushing a strand of hair behind her head and standing up fully.

Tommy didn’t want to take his eyes off of his not-dead sibling, but he could imagine his siblings were just as shell shocked as he was.

“Niki-” a voice choked out. Wilbur. “We thought you were dead.” Tommy could hear the sorrow in Wilbur’s voice. They had always been close, growing up. Always there for each other. Wilbur had taken Niki’s disappearance particularly hard.

“Well, I’m back,” she said, not unkindly.

Wilbur froze for a second, before rushing towards her and sweeping her up in a hug. Niki tensed for a moment, before relaxing slightly and hugging him back. She pulled back after a few seconds. Wilbur looked like he wanted to hug her again, but she ducked beneath his arm and started walking towards the house as if things were normal.

Tommy caught up to her, walking by her side, unable to take his eyes off her face. He had thought he would never see her again. They all did.

“I have many questions,” Techno drawled, but Tommy could see that even he was shocked.

“And I’ll gladly answer them,” Niki smiled back at him. Tommy wanted to ask her where she had gone and why she had come back, but he bit his tongue. Niki led them to the kitchen, walking briskly, and the brothers all followed close behind. She made herself a sandwich while everyone settled around the kitchen, perched on various counters and stools.

Niki took a bite of her sandwich and closed her eyes in bliss. She took a few more bites, before regretfully setting it down and looking at her assortment of siblings.

“So,” she began casually. “What do you want to know?” Chaos resounded as everyone started asking questions immediately, cutting each other off and trying to get Niki to listen.

Tommy tried a few times, before sighing and screaming at the top of his lungs, “Shut up!”

It worked, everyone’s grumbles slowly faded out, and Schlatt cleared his throat.

“Where did you go?” he asked first.

Niki pondered the question for a second. “I went to the future,” she said eventually, “Looks like dad was right, huh? I was never ready for time travel.”

Ranboo perked up. “What was the future like?”

Niki glanced at him, something unrecognizable on her face. “It’s...not good.” She looked down at her hands and took a shaking breath.

“Niki?” Wilbur prompted gently.

“I was stuck there for 45 years . I think I’m done thinking about it for a while. I’ll tell you someday.” She pushed herself up to her full height and let her eyes roam to each person individually, daring them to contradict her. When she caught Tommy’s eye, he resisted the urge to shrink down. Her gaze was so intense, and even he knew better than to push farther.

Tommy couldn’t stop staring at his sister, as if she would vanish again the moment he looked away. Niki saw him watching her and offered a small smile.

“Don’t worry,” she said quietly to him, reading his expression. “You won’t lose me again.”

---

It was raining by the time they went outside for the funeral proceedings. Tommy suspected as much- looking at the weather when he had arrived, it didn’t come as a surprise. His umbrella helped him stay dry, but the ripping winds still sent shivers through his body. Ranboo’s multi-colored umbrella stuck out like a sore thumb and Tommy had to give props to him for his audacity. Reginald had never liked colors.

Schlatt’s umbrella was all but broken in the wind yet he didn’t seem to notice. The urn with their father’s ashes was held gently under his arm. Schlatt stepped forward, passing his umbrella off to Wilbur.

“Does anyone want to say a few words?”

Nobody stepped forward. Schlatt looked around disapprovingly.

“Why aren’t you sad that our father, the man who raised us, is dead?”

Tommy resisted the urge to scoff. He figured it wouldn’t go over well. Reginald might have raised them, but he had never been good at it, and he certainly had never been a father.

Techno had no such reservations, letting out a quiet “good riddance.”

Schlatt turned to him, anger alight on his face. He had been especially sad and irritable recently, even if none of his siblings shared the sentiment.

“How can you say that?” he accused. Techno stayed silent, sharpening his blade with a methodical back-and-forth motion.

“Ranboo,” Wilbur interrupted before a fight could break out. Ranboo looked up at Wilbur, a question in his eyes. “Can you summon dad’s ghost?”

Even Schlatt fell silent to await Ranboo’s answer.

He laughed. “I thought I was the one with the memory problem,” he joked. “Of course I can, that’s literally my power.”

After a moment’s pause, Techno drawled out, “Well…?”

Ranboo startled, before nodding rapidly and Schlatt set down the urn on the damp earth. Ranboo crouched next to it and settled his hand on it, coughing loudly to clear his throat.

“Um, hi,” he said out loud. “Dad? Yeah, can you uh- come talk to me, maybe? Schlatt wants to know whether your death was accidental and will never get off my case if this doesn’t work. Techno is still doing his weird hero-complex stuff and probably needs a good lecture; Wilbur has abandoned us, come talk some sense into him; Niki actually admitted you were correct for once- and I know you always wanted to see the day. Uh- Tubbo’s still dead but he’s still a nerd and still way too chaotic- though I suppose you might’ve already met him in the afterlife or wherever you are.”

Ranboo paused, glancing to his side and hissing, “Shut up, I’m trying to talk to dad.” Tommy looked to his siblings but they were all too busy gaping at Ranboo or opening their mouths for an angry retort to question who he was talking to.

“C’mon, c’mon,” Ranboo muttered, slapping the ashes lightly. “Hurry up, get over here, you stupid ghost.”

After another minute of nothing happening, Tommy moved forward and put a hand on Ranboo’s shoulder, pulling him away from the urn. Ranboo groaned and raked a hand across his face.

“I feel him,” he admitted sullenly. “I feel his ghost but he refuses to talk to me.”

“Or maybe you just aren’t good enough,” Schlatt muttered.

Techno pulled himself up to full height and glared at Schlatt’s head as Schlatt picked up the urn. He went to scatter the ashes, but the rain clumped them all up, ruining the effect. Niki snorted at the pathetic display.

“You just love tearing everyone down, don’t you?” Techno glowered, sending a look towards Ranboo, who seemed crestfallen at Schlatt’s offhand comment, though he was hiding it well.

“What?”

“Does it make you feel better about yourself? Is that why you do it?” Techno advanced towards Schlatt, menacing. “Does it help you sleep at night, upholding dad’s legacy to the point where you will do anything in your power to make us all feel like garbage?”

Hypocrite , Tommy thought, remembering the way Techno refused to even look in his direction.

“Dad only wanted what was best for us,” Schlatt sniffed, not backing away from Techno’s silent challenge.

“Are you joking? Schlatt, I don’t know how long it will take for you to get this in that thick skull of yours, but Dad abused us. He’s not some picture perfect role model, and yet you’re trying to turn out just like him!”

Tommy sighed and followed Ranboo, who was already leaving the scene. He tapped Niki’s arm as he passed, and without a backwards glance, she followed them back inside. Tommy winced at a thud and looked over his shoulder, just in time to see Schlatt tackle Techno to the ground. Techno whipped out one of his knives. Wilbur was flitting around, unsure of what to do.

Techno slashed out towards Schlatt and rolled out from his hold, and Tommy turned back around for deniability. He refused to be a witness if Techno actually stabbed Schlatt, which didn’t seem like such a wild possibility at this point.

He only did look back towards the fight when he was safely back inside the manor, umbrella tucked away and in the process of tugging his coat off. A crash resounded through the courtyard.

With a rapidly sinking heart, Tommy looked back to see Tubbo’s memorial statue, on the ground, broken from its pedestal. It had originally been placed there as a reminder of the SBI’s failure to protect their brother, but as it fell, it felt like another part of Tubbo’s memory had been destroyed too.

---

Schlatt is fourteen years old. He is the oldest of all the Hargreeves siblings. The children sit in a row of chairs, ordered by how important they supposedly are. Schlatt, Number One, sits in the first chair, arm cuffed down. Phil is tattooing a small symbol on his inner wrist, a design of a dark, threatening bird taking flight. Schlatt bites his lip to keep from crying out.

They all take their turns, each trying not to cry as the insignia is burned into their skin.

Tommy is only five, but even young, he understands. He watches, almost sadly as everyone gets a tattoo, except for him. Later that night, Tubbo complains to him about how much it hurt. How he wishes he was in Tommy’s place, exempt from the pain their father put the rest of them through.

Tommy sees it as the opposite though. It’s better to be united in suffering than to be alone. Still, Tommy lets Tubbo rant and doesn’t share his thoughts.

Alone in his room at midnight, Tommy draws on his own crow in black sharpie.

---

With the pathetic funeral over, the Hargreeves were avoiding each other like the plague. They only met briefly in the kitchen to get breakfast. Schlatt poured himself a cup of coffee, and Niki blinked into the kitchen, snatching it from his hand and ducking under his arm, ignoring her brother’s shout of protest. In one gulp Niki downed the coffee, before making a face and tossing the empty cup over her shoulder.

She ignored the loud smashing sound and Wilbur’s mournful cry of “My favorite mug!”

“Where around here can I get a decent coffee?” she asked irritably.

Techno stared at her from his place in the corner. “Do you not remember-?”

Niki rolled her eyes, sticking her hands in her pockets and leaning back on her heels. “No, idiot, it’s been 45 years since I was last here. A lot is changed in the future.”

Ranboo raised a hand as if waiting to be called on. “Then- why do you still look 12?”

“I made a mistake in my calculations, and eventually had to resort to moving my consciousness into a version of me that exists in this timeline, and the last time I existed in this particular timeline was when I was 13 and first time jumped, so, ergo, my mind has been stuck into this ridiculously small body.”

Based on Ranboo’s expression, he didn’t fully understand at all, but he nodded anyway.

“You could head down to Quackity’s donut shop downtown?” Tommy suggested from on the counter, having just taken his anxiety pills and tuning into the conversation. “He makes a fairly good cup of coffee, plus: donuts.”

Niki tilted her head to the side. “That’s not actually a horrible idea. Care to join me?”

“Can’t, sorry,” he shook his head. “I’ve got piano lessons to teach in about an hour or so.”

“I’ll come,” Ranboo offered with a grin.

To everyone’s surprise, Technoblade sighed, standing up fully and stretching. “Somehow I doubt that either of you actually have any money, and Niki looks 13, so I’ll drive you there.”

“Great, let’s go!” Niki said, clapping her hands and taking large strides towards the door. Techno followed at a leisurely pace and Ranboo waved back to the other as he left.

Tommy gave a mock salute to Wilbur and Schlatt who continued to stand in the kitchen.

“I’ll be staying for a week or two before flying home,” Wilbur offered. “Come find me after you're done with your lessons for the day. As annoying as you are, I want to hang out with you a bit before I leave.”

Right. Wilbur was flying back across the country soon. He had almost forgotten. Tommy nodded and exited the building.

Wilbur and Schlatt both finished grabbing breakfast and headed their separate ways in the mansion.

...

Across the house, Philza had been dusting the same lamp for an hour straight. In the back of his mind, it registered that he was malfunctioning again. He was rather self aware that way. Straightening up, Phil went back to his charging station and plugged himself in. His work was done for the day.

---

----

-------

Notes:

Okay a couple of things:

1. you can absolutely read this fic without knowing the plot of TUA. 2. I call them the SBI instead of the Umbrella Academy, even though y e s, i know that a lot of them aren't in the SBI. shh. that's just what I'm calling the group as a whole. 3. unlike the show, they aren't all the same age. they were all born on the same day at the same time, but on different years, because I said so. Schlatt is the oldest and around 25 and Tommy is the youngest and around 16 and everyone else is somewhere in between. 4. as in the show, Schlatt has been on the moon for four years directly before the events of this fic. Wilbur is a famous musician rather than a movie star. Techno is still a vigilante. Ranboo isn't a drug addict, he just has a really bad memory and blacks out occasionally(because of his powers, somehow). Tommy plays piano instead of violin and gives younger kids lessons. 5. Wilbur and Techno both moved out of the house when they hit 18, respectively. About a year before the events of this fic, Ranboo and Tommy ran away and got an apartment together. 6. for people who haven't seen the show, basically Schlatt has super strength, Techno can manipulate the trajectory of objects, Wilbur can 'rumor' people and convince them of stuff/to do stuff. Ranboo can speak to ghosts, Niki can 'blink' or jump through space and time. Tubbo is dead(I will talk about his powers more during the actual fic), and Tommy doesn't have a power.

+7. (cursed) one of my friends who was beta-ing this said that they kept picturing Philza in a maid dress in this AU and now I cannot get that mental image out of my head. someone help me. please note that he is *not*, in fact, wearing a maid dress.

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square-blunt · 3 years ago

Text

I wanna fight for what we got 'cause I believe in family.

So @savvyart101 remember when you said you wanted more Ram family dynamic bullshit and that gave me brain rot so I wrote this for you-

Tw- Reference to abandonment, a minor anxiety attack, shitty parents, the usual Wc: 1489 AO3 link: in case it works better for you <3

Tubbo is standing, shivering, in the pouring rain.

It's one, maybe two in the morning, and he didn't know why he hadn't just stayed in Snowchester. Couldn't this just have waited until the morning? She wouldn't be awake anyways. He should just turn around and get back in bed with his husband, worry about his son, and go to sleep.

Why was he here? Standing in the pouring fucking rain?

He knew why. He knew why he couldn't wait. He knew why he couldn't sleep, he knew why he hadn't been sleeping. It's because of what he didn't know. Something he hoped she could tell him.

He knows why he's standing in the pouring rain.

Tubbo wants to know how to be a dad.

A good one. One that won't leave his son in a cardboard box on the side of the road. One that won't take over the nation he gave his life for and then execute him. One that won't kill the man he gave his life for and then blow up that nation.

He's standing in the pouring rain, in front of a home, housing a dad who's done none of that.

Tubbo is standing, shivering, in front of Puffy's door.

A knock.

A light.

A bang, and a curse.

A sound of locks moving.

A door opening.

Puffy appears, hair in complete disarray, and a worried look on her face- that softens when she sees Tubbo.

"Tubbo-"

"I'm cold." Tubbo says, not meeting her gaze.

"That's what I was gonna say, come in, come in" Puffy pulls Tubbo into a half hug, a hand lightly squeezing his shoulder.

Puffy pulls him away from the pouring rain.

"How long have you been out there, kiddo?" Puffy says, grabbing her coat off the hanger and wrapping it around his shoulders.

"How do you be a dad? A good one?" Tubbo asks, reaching out and catching Puffy's hand.

Puffy doesn't answer right away. Instead she navigates them to a couch, and sits them down, bringing Tubbo into a better hug, rubbing his back.

"I- I honestly couldn't tell you. You definitely shouldn't take after me- I'm mean Foolish-" Puffy begins.

"Those were things you couldn't control, but he forgave you and he still sees you as a parent- how do I do that? How do I not fuck it up? How do I be there for him no matter what? How do I protect him from things that can't be killed? How do I not be like them? Puffy, how? All I've known were… my birth parents left me, Puffy. They abandoned me. I got picked up by Phil, you saw how that turned out- I'm trying- I want to be a better father than them. I'm trying to be a better son- I'm giving Phil a second chance and I want to give-" Tubbo stops himself. His eyes sting, he tastes salt. "I want to give Schlatt a second chance. If somehow, he ever comes back, I want to give him a second chance. But that doesn't change the fact that-"

"He's not the best example-"

"You are. I want to be what they weren't. I want to be what you are. What you are to Foolish, what you are to Tommy, what you are to me? I want to give my son golden apples when he fights God, yknow?" Tubbo laughs a little, so does Puffy.

"Yeah, those didn't really help in hindsight-" Puffy says.

"But they did. Puffy, they might not have helped in the physical sense, but when you went out of your way to get us those- that showed me that people still cared. Despite everything, they still cared. If I didn’t make it back, you’d mourn me. You, out of almost everyone else on the server, were one of the only people to mourn Tommy. You took the time to gather his favorite block- you took the time to know what his favorite block even was! You took the time to get to know Tommy, to know what his favorite block was- you saw more in him than what everyone else painted him up to be! You did what hardly anyone else did. You cared about him, you showed everyone that you cared. Puffy, how do i fucking do that? How do I be like you, and care enough about my son that i don’t fucking throw him out like he’s nothing. Like he’s useless, worthless, unwanted- Puffy, how do I make him feel wanted? How do I.. not be like that?"

“You don’t give up. Tubbo, something that I’ve noticed about you- you’re special. You’ve got that… that thing. That spark. That light- you don’t give up. On people, on projects- on anything. You don’t give up on the things you create. Snowchester. You never gave up on it. You wanted to build a safe haven and that’s exactly what it is. You didn’t give up on it and look at it- it’s thriving, it’s thriving because you never gave up on it. L’manburg. Even though it took two of your lives you never gave it up-”

“But-”

“I know, ‘But, Puffy, it’s a crater’ it was never a place. Tubbo, L’manburg was never just a plot of land, a few buildings and a set of rules, Tubbo, L’manburg was never a place. It was a bond. You’ve never given up on L’manburg. You’ve never given up on that bond between you and Tommy- hell, Eret, Niki, Jack, Fundy- even Wilbur- you’ve never given up on that bond. You knew- you were smart enough to know that if you built L’manburg back up again it would just get torn right back down- you knew what was best for it. But you never gave up on the true L’manburg. You never gave up on the bonds you created. Bonds- you just said that you’re giving Phil a second chance- you’re willing to give Schlatt a second chance- you haven’t given up on them. That’s what makes you different from them. You don’t give up. You never will. That’s how to be a good dad. You don’t give up on your kid. Even if they get rowdy and rambunctious- even if they do something bad- don’t- don’t give up on them. There are exceptions, but for the most part. Don’t give up on them. That’s rule one. Don’t give up. Rule two… Use your experience to help prepare him. You, and Ranboo, have both been through a lot. Make sure you give as much advice to Michael as you can. Even if you're just learning it, make sure he’s prepared. Rule three, support him through anything. Even if it isn’t the best idea, sometimes letting him have that experience is the best. You don’t get calloused hands if you have never been in a sword fight. But make sure you’re on the sidelines cheering him on- and always have a regen pot just in case. Rule four, don’t be afraid of change. I know, letting him kill his first zombie will be absolutely terrifying, but he’s a growing… boy? Zombie-pigman boy. He’s a growing Zombie-pigman boy. He’s going to change. You can always change with him. And rule five, don’t kill him or blow up his nation- no, I’m just kidding- I’m kidding- rule five. Know when you need help and don’t be afraid to ask for it. You’ve already got this rule down easy, but it’s a good thing to remember. Another good thing to remember- I will always be here for you. Me, Eret, Foolish- we’re gonna be here for you. Til the fucking end we’re gonna be here for you. I am so fucking proud of how far you’ve come. I’m so grateful that you see me as- that you see me the way you do. I’m so unbelievably grateful that you see me the way you do. I care about you so much, and I want you to know how proud and how grateful I am that you’ve come to me. I swear to fucking Church Prime if I ever see your birth parents I will kill them-” Puffy laughs.

“Promise?” Tubbo mumbles, having pushed his forehead into Puffy’s shoulder.

“Well, maybe not kill them- bitch slap, yes, but killing them might be a little too far.” Puffy squeezes Tubbo’s hand. “Do you want me to walk you home- it’s still dark out.”

“Yeah, I’m really tired, too, I would probably take a wrong turn somewhere.” Tubbo yawns, shifting deeper into Puffy’s coat. Puffy, in turn, fixes the coat so it sits comfortably around Tubbo’s face.

Tubbo rubs his eyes with the back of his hand, finally tired after a week of sleepless nights, and follows Puffy out the door.

He remembers Puffy helping him up the ladder.

He remembers her singing a lullaby.

He remembers what he noticed as they walked out the door.

The rain had stopped.

#dream smp #dsmp #dsmp writing #c!puffy #<- i would die for her #c!tubbo #michael_#captain puffy #tubbo #savvyart101 #ram family #RamFam #gremtalks

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