#Villainous Inc. AU | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

issybettyx · 2 years ago

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BEDROCK BROS AU

Tdlr; Tommy was born into a crime family and is forced into their ideals and pursuits since a young age. Aged 14, he finally goes to therapy without his brother and father knowing. Technoblade is a therapist, purely because he understands the human mind very well and not because of his terrible comforting skills.

Tommy: i have trauma oh and my family is like the most well known crime organisation the police havent been able to catch

Techno: chill, don’t worry man i’m here for you

Or; i listened to music again. And ‘Bust your kneecaps’ came on. And i kind of accidentally made it bedrock bros.

-- // weapons, trauma, blood mention, murder mention, death mention, terrible parents (bad parent Phil, i know, who have i become), arguing

Tommy wasn’t sure when his first heist was. He didn’t remember much of it, that much he was sure of. But he did remember the gut wrenching fear mixed with a determination only caused by the want for a father’s approval.

Wilbur had said he was 7, his mask didn’t fit perfectly but his gun fit fantastically between his fingers, and simply his presence was enough for news of The Syndicate’s newest and youngest member to spread faster than wildfire, and it was news stations’ top story for over three weeks.

Theories of who he was, how old he was, why he seemed to confident despite his young age and questions of why The Syndicate would take in a recruit so young.

“You were our ray of sunshine, Toms,” Wilbur told him with a grin that Tommy couldn’t help but return, accepting the hair ruffles whole-heartedly, “Simply you being there made the entire mission so much easier, I’m so proud of you.”

Maybe those words weighed too much for Tommy to let go, maybe he knew that if he told them how much he was truly against their actions he would never hear them again, and that fear was enough for him to keep his head high for the next seven years of his life. His name made it onto the villain rankings within a matter of months, dubbed number 15 aged 8. It was when Tommy was 11 he reached number 4, and aged 13 when he was number 3, just below his brother.

It had always been that way, Tommy being one of the best but never the best. Phil had always made sure he knew it, assuring him he was amazing at what he did, correcting his hold on the knife until it was perfect for flicking at his opponents, a smile on his face the whole time as he congratulated him. But the way he looked at Wilbur, with a brighter smile, with more pride radiating from his glistening blue eyes as his son burned down entire streets without a single fingerprint to lead it back to him.

Wilbur had always been better than him, and Tommy had come to accept that.

Well, he thought he had.

It was on Tommy’s 14th birthday that he went downstairs to find Wilbur muttering something into his phone, an angry lilt to the way he spoke that made the kid pause.

“No, not today,” he huffed, and Tommy could practically hear him pinching the bridge of his nose, rubbing the corners of his eyes and slightly lifting the glasses off his face in the process, “No, it’s my brother’s birthday, I’m not- dad.”

Oh, it seemed Phil wasn’t there that morning, how strange.

“Well one of us has to be here, he deserves a proper birthday and to be surrounded by people who love him, I’ll help you on fucking Christmas if it means I get to stay home today.”

There was such a firmness to his voice that made Tommy shiver, cupping a hand over his mouth to mask his shaky breaths.

“Fine, but you better be home for dinner.” Wilbur scowled, and the ringing sound of someone hanging up could be heard.

After a moment of deathly silence, Tommy finally walked out, forcing his face into a smile as he peeked his head around the doorframe. The moment Wilbur saw him, his smile widened, and he was rushing right up to him, lifting him up and spinning him.

“Happy birthday sunshine!” He cheered with a bright smile, and Tommy smiled back, knowing his grin could never rival the sun that was his brother’s. “Would you like presents or breakfast first?” He asked, gently landing Tommy’s feet on the carpeted ground and crouching down to his level, ruffling his hair as he giggled, attempting to swat the hand away.

They opened presents first, and despite the fact Tommy wanted to state just how much he adored each gift, thoughts kept swimming around his brain.

Why was Phil working that day? Why did Wilbur seem so off? Why was Wilbur better than him? Why, no matter how hard he tried, was he never enough for his family?

These thoughts led him to Google, seeing as no one else had the answers he assumed Google would (he’d asked Tubbo a random question once, and he’d replied with ‘just ask Google, Google knows everything’). The Google search led Tommy to something called ‘therapy’, which led him to standing outside of a random building two weeks later, taking shaky breaths as he thought everything over.

Everything in therapy, apparently, was confidential. Unless of course it put you or others in danger, but therapists were forced by law to keep everything else in the room within the hour slot given.

As long as Tommy was extremely careful and didn’t mention anything about evil plots and how his father and brother were the top two villains of L’Manberg, he himself being number three, then he could get away with it.

The doors swung open with his forceful confidence, and he flashed a smile at the receptionist as he sauntered over to her, leaning against a wall that was provided. “Here for therapy.” He stated, as if it wasn’t completely obvious. The woman looked him up and down, sighing before smiling, clicking a few times on her computer.

“Name?”

“Tommy Craft.”

“Age?”

“14.”

She looked at him in a strange way, raising an eyebrow that he only returned.

“Do you have parental consent?”

Oh, Google had told him about this too. Lying was never off his agenda, you learn from the very best in fact.

“Well my doctor permitted it, said I was aware enough of my treatment to understand I need it, my Mum dropped me off.” He explained, pointing out front to the car park. Only then did the woman sigh again, clicking again a few times before smiling back at him.

“You can go right in, down the hall and the second door on the left.” She pointed, and Tommy nodded, giving her a short bow.

“Appreciate you,” he told her, before strolling down the hall, keeping his head high and his shoulders lax, humming a melody his brother had played him on his birthday evening when their father still hadn’t gotten home (he got home at 2am, Wilbur was absolutely infuriated, Tommy was surprised to find he didn’t really care). Eventually, he found the door, reading the name plate on the door before knocking.

“Come in.” A deep voice called back to him, and Tommy turned the handle, smiling at the man behind the desk.

A buff man with pink hair wouldn’t be his first guess at a therapist; however, Tommy was a villain, not a horrible person. The man’s hands were crossed across his chest, his legs propped onto the desk showing how his boots didn’t have a speck of dirt, and a pair of reading glasses were perched on his nose.

In one aspect, he looked terrifying. His very small smile matched with his horribly white and completely uncreased frilled shirt painting a strange image, his folded hands too calloused to be anything normal.

In another aspect, Tommy could kick him square in the face and he’d immediately pass out.

“You must be Tommy,” he greeted, and he expected a handshake or something, but instead he just received a small gesture to a w chair with wheels opposite himself. “Take a seat.”

“What’s your name, Dr Blade?” Tommy teased with a grin, falling into the chair and leaning his ankle on top of his knee, sinking into the plush as the wheels rolled it slightly backwards. The man rolled his eyes, flicking a coin between his fingers - when in hells name did he pick up a coin?

“Techno. My name is Techno Blade, you can call me whatever.” He said with a shrugged, chucking the coin into the air and letting it land in his shirt pocket, smiling slightly with pride at his little trick. “How are you today, Tommy?”

It was in that moment that Tommy decided therapy was extremely strange and not for him at all. This man looked completely indifferent, he looked like he would rather be at home reading a book as he threw raw meat at his wolves, not sitting and asking how people’s days are going.

“Technoblade, today I am absolutely fantastic, I woke up, got breakfast, and came here.” He explained, bringing his arms out in a wide gesture. “Pretty remarkable day.”

The man huffed, seemingly amused by the sarcasm.

“Hate to ask such a blunt question kiddo,” Tommy frowned at the name, but decided against commenting on it for now. Didn’t want to upset the man on his first day meeting him. Totally wasn’t a choice made completely out of the rising fear in his chest. “But why are you in therapy? We ask this too all of our patients.”

“Patients? You make it sound like a hospital.” He scoffed, clearly avoiding the question in such a slick way only he and his brother were able to master. But Techno stayed quiet, watching him with a careful eye. Tommy frowned. “What are you doing in therapy? Huh? Technoblade?”

He still didn’t reply.

Strange.

“You’re creeping me out man, your eyes are practically red- oh my god you have red eyes, that’s so cool!”

Silence.

Tommy frowned further, sinking into his chair.

Why was he in therapy?

Google told him to be here, was his first thought. But then he remembered his English lessons, how the teachers always asked why, how they never took anything at face value. Techno seemed like an English teacher, he didn’t seem like someone who would take kindly to the answer ‘Google told me to be here’.

“Family stuff, I guess.” He replied, not one bit pleased, his face quite the contrary to the satisfied hum Techno gave him, picking up a pen and post-it-note, scribbling a few words before looking back up.

“Wanna draw?”

“I’m sorry?”

“This is the first session,” he started, folding his hands in front of him, “We don’t need to get emotional on the first day, it’s about building trust. Speaking of which,” Techno started, and Tommy already knew what he was about to say, “Everything you say in this room is confidential, I only take notes of things I need to remember for future sessions, however if you say something that could put you or others in danger I am legally meant to pass it on, do you understand?”

“No revealing my villain schemes to you, got it.” He replied, half seriously and half jokingly, but the man didn’t seem to hear the former part of the tone, huffing again.

“Well, if they include burying bodies, I know a guy.” He replied just as quickly, and Tommy couldn’t help his laughter, stealing a pen and a post-it-note, immediately sitting it to the arm of his spinning chair and doodling the first thing that came to mind.

The first session went… better than Tommy first thought it would.

There wasn’t any stress when be talked to Techno, and for just that hour he felt a strange safety in the chair as he listened to his therapist talk about polar bears. Tommy found himself rambling about moths half way through, paused to realise the man was listening so carefully that he involuntarily continued, smiling all the while.

After the hour of serenity, the house of chaos he walked into wasn’t exactly what he expected.

“Maybe my grades would be better if I wasn’t out fucking shooting up buildings!” Wilbur yelled way too loudly, and Tommy was glad he’d shut the door as quickly as he had, kicking his shoes off at the door. “Be so fucking glad I respect this organisation and my reputation, or I would be booting it into the sewers.”

“Tommy’s grades are great and he does more shit than you do!” Phil yelled back, and Tommy immediately grimaced, walking into the room with furrowed brows. Neither spared him a glance. “What happened to you, Wil? You used to be so good.” He finished almost wistfully, lifting a hand to touch his cheek, but the brunette immediately slapped it away, ignoring the pained look on Phil’s face as he did so.

“I can’t fucking believe you.”

Tommy didn’t like hearing his brother swear, flinching as he took a careful step back, not entirely sure who to side with.

“Never compare your children! It’s fucking disgusting!”

“I don’t compare you guys, I love you both equally-“

“Equally my arse-“

“Stop!” Tommy shouted over them, and that finally made them pause, staring at him as he stood in the doorway, struggling to hold down his shivers at the icy glares sent his way. “Both of you are acting so fucking childish it’s pathetic!”

“But-“

“You’re just proving my point, Phil.” Tommy never called his dad by his first name out loud, mainly out of pure respect, reserving his first name only for his thoughts or times when Phil wasn’t showing him the same respect back. It seemed to hit a sore spot, because the man flinched, confusion and hurt written over his face. “Whatever you’re both arguing about, you should shut up and get over it! You chose to create this organisation, you chose to have no spare time to study or be at your children’s birthdays, so get over it and get on with stabbing whatever orphans you chose this weekend.”

And without waiting for an answer, Tommy rushed upstairs, leaving behind a stale silence that he didn’t bothering acknowledging, falling onto his bed with a sigh.

Apparently, Tubbo cried when he was angry; that’s what he’d said anyways.

Tommy wasn’t sure what he did when he was angry, but he sure knew what the emotion itself felt like, and he knew most people didn’t simply brush it off as a normal Friday evening and fall off to sleep with ease, letting the emotion simmer until it ultimately gave up.

For a moment, he wondered what Techno did when he was angry, but he pushed the thought away before he could entertain it, forcing his eyes shut until his mind drifted into the abyss.

—

Tommy knocked on the door, the same low voice calling him in as last time forcing him to turn the doorknob. After a moment, he slipped into the chair, keeping a frown on his face as Techno waited expectantly, clearly not a fan of starting emotional conversations despite his job.

“How-“ he started, biting his lip as he tried to push the question away. And yet, he’d been trying it all week, dodging past the longing stares and the tired eyes in favour of going on walks or calling Tubbo. The thought kept returning as the anger simmered away. Phil had never liked stupid questions, constantly scolding him when he asked something he should know the answer to.

But how would he know the answer to this? He didn’t know Techno, not enough anyways.

Was it a stupid question? He knew Phil would say so.

“How do you deal with anger?” He asked anyways, fighting away the anxiety sitting in his head with a sigh to release any tension in his shoulders, keeping his legs still and his face even.

Tommy expected many things in reply; maybe a laugh and a ‘I don’t feel anger, you’re on your own kiddo’, or maybe a ‘don’t be stupid you should know’.

However, he never would’ve guessed the man would genuinely reply. “I do fencing in my spare time, helps release any pent up emotions, a friend recommended it when I was still in school.” He explained, and Tommy forced his face to stay apathetic, keeping just how baffled he was in his nagging mind. When Techno looked up at him, plucking his glasses from his face and twisting them in his hands, that strange sense of safety returned. “Why do you ask?”

Now, Tommy had many options.

He could lie; say he was angry at his friend Tubbo who stole his sandwich at lunch that day.

He could stay silent; a safe option, it would risk not leaking any information about anything.

He could go on a ramble about moths again; now that one was certainly tempting, moths were certainly interesting.

However, he did none of these things, and did one thing that was so foreign to his tongue it made his fingers twitch.

“My brother and Dad had a fight on Friday and brought me into it, it just pissed me off I guess.”

He told the truth.

Tommy couldn’t remember the last time he’d told the truth so easily and without an ounce of consideration, telling the truth wasn’t in his plans at all! And yet, the words were forced out of him as easily as a river flows. And Techno simply hummed, writing something down on a post-it-note.

“How do you usually deal with strong emotions?” He asked slowly, raising an eyebrow at the kid who frowned, looking at the ground in thought.

“I don’t feel strong emotions.” Was what he finally decided on, and that seemed to shock the other a little more than expected.

“What about that anger you were just on about?” He asked, a little baffled and clearly a little joking, yet there was a genuineness to his tone that made Tommy falter. Now that was where he drew the line. Tommy didn’t falter, he didn’t stumble amidst a fight or shake when he he held a gun, and he certainly didn’t start to like the idea of being listened to for once by someone who seemed horrendously trust-worthy.

“That-“ he started, shaking his head as he tried to force his mouth firmly shut, but it seemed his brain had other plans, “That feels normal at this point, that anger that I felt is just how I always feel, it’s natural I guess.”

The room fell into a strange silence, with Tommy clamping his hand over his mouth and Techno thinking in a quiet consideration.

“Do I have your permission to ask a possibly sensitive question?” Techno asked after the moment stretched on too long, and Tommy found himself blinking in confusion, pulling his hand away from his mouth as he slowly nodded. Techno cleared his throat, “What was your childhood like?”

The way Tommy froze was likely answer enough.

Tommy remembers the joy he felt as Phil gave him his first knife for Christmas when he was 5, and Wilbur’s giddy chuckles were enough to make him treasure it. Phil had also bought him a dummy to practice on, and he made sure to spend any spare time he had on mastering the arts of wielding a knife.

He remembers hearing a muttered promise as he drifted off to sleep, he was four at the time and had woken from a nightmare.

‘Whatever the cost, I will always protect you.’ Phil had whispered when he assumed Tommy had fallen asleep; but a four-year-old who’d just witnessed a murder because of an attempt on his own life never drifted off easily.

And that was… it. Anything else from before he was seven, he didn’t have any recollection of it.

However, he felt the dread in his stomach, the feeling of blood on his fingertips and noticed how his legs had started to shake despite no pressure being applied to them at all.

Those sweet memories apparently didn’t mean much to Tommy’s mind, despite how much joy he looked back on them with.

“Honestly?” He asked, Techno nodding encouragingly. “I don’t know.”

“You froze when I mentioned it.” The man pointed out, and Tommy frowned, forcing his leg to stop bouncing before the other noticed that too. “It can’t have been great.”

“I remember that I was loved, and I was safe, and I remember about two memories before the age of 7.” He confessed, his attempts at stopping the words flowing almost completely gone already with the knowledge he couldn’t stop. Maybe it was the calm atmosphere, maybe it was the genuinely interested expression on Techno’s face, or maybe it was the painting of a polar bear that was hung on the wall staring into his soul and commanding he let out all his secrets. Whatever it was, Tommy couldn’t manage to fight it no matter how hard he tried.

“Why before 7?” He asked, and Tommy paused, staring into his eyes with something uncertain. This time, not even his body willed him to speak, which Tommy was ever thankful for. “You don’t have to tell me, you’re not obliged to.”

“Why do you speak like that?”

“Speak like what?”

“Obliged,” he mocked, trying and failing to mimic the man’s extremely small smile, “Permission.” He expressed, and the man’s hands moved in front of his mouth, a questioning look on his face, “They are very strange words.”

“Would you rather me say ‘need’ and ‘allowed’?” He asked cautiously, clearly asking a question that Tommy somehow didn’t catch, sighing with a soft smile that said ‘you are so fucking dumb it hurts me’.

“I would rather you talk to me like the child I am,” he explained, deciding that this was a lesson well worth teaching the other, “I don’t get a chance to choose, you don’t need ‘permission’ from me, and I am obliged, that’s my entire point of being here, to listen to what adults tell me to do without a second thought.”

The room was silent, and Tommy sighed, frowning at the strange expression on the man’s face.

“What? The honest truth too much for you to handle?”

“Tommy.” He started, the boy humming, partially keen to hear how he’d learned his lesson. “Tommy you-“ he paused, thinking over his words carefully and making Tommy pause with him, fear returning ever so slightly. “Who told you that?”

“I-“ he started, clamping his mouth shut in favour of glaring at Techno. The man sounded and looked a little insane, thought Tommy would be lying if he said he didn’t consider dying his hair pink after their first session (he ultimately decided it wouldn’t look good for his villain brand).

“As a human, you’re entitled to respect, do you know what that means?” He asked, and the question seemed… foreign, in a way. Usually, questioned worded as such were said with such malice and scolding he was forced to say yes and agree; but Techno asked it so honestly, genuine concern written beneath his words.

“No?”

Tubbo had probably said it once, but then again Tubbo said many things.

“Respect means to regard other people’s feelings, opinions, emotions, and so on,” he explained, and Tommy frowned, tilting his head to the side in questioning. “For example, if you told me you didn’t want to eat mint ice cream, I wouldn’t force you to eat it, because i’m taking your feelings into regard, does that make sense?”

The concept made sense, but that wasn’t how the world worked.

Wilbur had explained it as such; the world doesn’t give you love, so why love it? Why, if the world was going to destroy you, should you not destroy it first?

“I- kind of?” He tried, bringing his knees to his chest and resting his chin on top of them, pulling his arms around his legs. “But who respects people? Do you respect people?”

“I do, I respect everyone who respects me,” Techno explained, “And sometimes even those who don’t respect me.”

Tommy frowned even further.

“Why?”

Techno hummed for a moment, tapping his pen on his desk in thought.

“Who’s your closest friend?”

“Tubbo.” Tommy replied immediately, no hesitation, and Techno smiled as if he’d won the lottery (in the Technoblade smile books anyhow).

“Okay, so imagine if Tubbo did something terrible, and he made you feel really sad.” It sounded as if he was a toddler, but again Tommy didn’t comment. “But then he apologised and showed he was really regretful of his actions, what would you do?”

After a quick moment of thought, Tommy replied, “Forgive him.”

“Right. But would you have to forgive him?”

“Yes.” Tommy replied just as quickly and just as confidently, and was only confused when Techno paused, his onslaught of questions coming to a halt. So, he decided to explain his opinion, maybe he would finally agree with something he said. “It’s not good to hold grudges, and if I forgive them it makes them happier, and I want Tubbo to be happy.”

The room stayed silent, and Tommy decided it would be best to stay quiet, watching the other closely as he looked across the room, a lost look in his eyes.

“Can I give you some homework, Tommy?”

At the prospect, he scoffed. “Therapy homework? Seriously Technoblade, you’ve fallen to a new low big man.”

“Your therapy homework this week is to not do anything that makes you uncomfortable.” Techno said it with such seriousness he couldn’t argue, slowly nodding. “Set boundaries, and if Tubbo comes and says he’s murdered your cousin don’t immediately forgive him.”

“If Tubbo committed murder he would have a damn good reason to do so.”

“Tommy.”

“Right, therapy homework, boundaries, learn respect, got it.”

Techno leaned back in his chair, and despite it all, Tommy found himself doing the same, enjoying the calm environment far more than he probably should.

Maybe he could get used to this.

They spoke about raccoons for the rest of the session, and Tommy felt a determination burning in his chest as he strolled down the hallway, waving goodbye to the receptionist lady.

The determination was a foreign feeling; it wasn’t the determination to make his father proud of him, or to be better than his brother, but rather to make him proud of himself.

And maybe, it all started with Technoblade.

//////——————////////

There was so much more i wanted to write but this shit was getting long and my heart is playing up again, so uh, bedrock bros :D

Hope yall enjoyed, yknow if you somehow managed to read the entire thing I sure hope you didn’t waste your time LMAO

Ily all <3

#tommyinnit #technoblade #wilbur soot #philza #dream smp #mcytblr #sbi #sleepy bois inc #bedrock bros #crimeboys #dream smp au #bedrock bros au #sand duo #therapist technoblade #villain tommy #villain wilbur #villain philza

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aimasup · 2 years ago

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G A Y H A T

I want bi bitch to show a whole stack of papers she's printed out of them in a relationship and white hat stopping slug from gaslighting her by kissing him for a good minute to make him crash then just saying "yes" to her and walking away with dizzy boi

Seems nonsensical enough to happen in that house, sure

No offense but it's kinda funny seeing the difference between cute non-au-canon ship posts

and the actual relationship between them in the AU, which is 'Asshole #1 who is only tolerable because Infinite Money Dispenser' and 'Asshole #2 who the goverment is keeping hostage in Asshole #1's Basement'

#villainous heroic!au #villainous valiant!au #everyone is a loser at wh inc #white hat #dr zug gleis #lumencia #non canon au #paperhat

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nomsfaultau · 2 years ago

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Reverse Fault Au for April 1st

Basically, what if SBI + Tubbo were humans working for the SCP Foundation, as well as anomalifying villain ocs at the end (which is where most of the tws come into play)

Tommy: Thomas. A Threat Assessor, like Dr Blake. He has an uncanny knack for driving even the most docile objects to bloodlust, which is useful in ascertaining exactly how much resources must be allocated to containing that SCP. No one is quite sure how he does it, only that a simple conversation can send objects into rages that somehow never touch the man. Thomas simply wears a delighted grin as devastation unfolds. Why does he do it? Why, the love of chaos of course. He’s only bringing out their innate evil, after all. The anomaly wanted to do it, he just gave it the push to act upon its violent nature.

Philza: Dr. A. Gon. Is an ancient decrepit old man from The War. He picks up little favorites among the anomalies and is super kind to them. Basically acts as a father figure for them, offering advice, giving little treats, limiting punishments, and helping them cope with the trauma of the Foundation…up until the moment he grows bored. After that it’s experiment after experiment trying to squeeze any last drop of interest out of the object before he discards them and moves onto the next. Anomalies tend to be completely psychologically and physically wrecked by the time he’s done with them. Likes to trap anomalies in complex promises that the Foundation can exploit easily. His cane is actually a sword stick, and the cape he has (to mimic wings) can act as a weighted net.

The Blade: Agent Boore. An MTF captain who leads a squad that somehow literally never manages to fail to recapture an anomaly thanks to his leadership. A lot of anomalies are terrified of him, as he tends to handle the containment breach punishments after catching them. Anomalies don’t tend to try to escape ever again after encountering Agent Boore. He armed to the teeth with near batman levels of gear. Tactics include pumping adrenaline into his veins, filling a room with toxic gas (immune bc of his gas mask (he wears it even while sleeping)) and the humble bazooka. Definitely on steroids. Agent Boore sees a containment breach as a challenge. He likes proving humanity (but mostly himself) stronger than monsters. Is insanely paranoid and tends to be the straight man who is secretly more insane than everyone else. Met Dr. A. Gon in WWII but got Captain America’d, and is actually now trying to sue marvel for using his life story. He does the job in order to protect the poor orphans of the world (evil)

Tubbo: Security Camera B. Is a security officer. Not a single thing goes unnoticed in the entire Foundation. The second an anomaly is out of line they’re reported and appropriately punished. Their personalities are represented in reverse fault by their favorite monitors. Jasmine has a picture of a dinosaur as her screen saver, Rhodes is a picture of an apple tree and technically it’s the oldest of the new computers but they run a mean legal complaint software that really saves the Foundation’s hide. Rosalind is a pic of someone meditating in a field of flowers and Sec Cam B secretly uses that computer to play games to distress. Sec Cam B also works as a recruitment officer given how much conviction about the Foundation they have. ‘It’s the moral thing to do, you have to join. Don’t you want to save humanity?’ They’re insufferably righteous in moral conviction. Lawful evil.

Wilbur: A. Void. Initial contact researcher, as he has a sharp eye (the other lost to an anomaly years ago) and an even sharper tongue that tends to not only save his life but also weasel out information from the object that would otherwise not have been gotten. His prejudices are flipped from Fault Au. Now, he thinks it unfair that anomalies have more power than humans, and that such a dominance would only lead to subjugation if given time. After all, the powerful always abuse such might don’t they? He believes everything he does is necessary for his own survival. He thinks his punishments are fair, which they could almost be considered to be compared to actual sadists like Agent Boore or Dr. A. Gon.

———————————————————————

And on to the villain SCPs!

Webb: A humanoid SCP with eight eyes, six arms, mandibles. Webb has incorrectly healed surgical scars on its throat from an encounter with Dr. A. Gon’s scalpel. An anomaly that can shoot out tendrils of spiderweb that, when making contact, suppress heightened emotions. Effect is strongest while webbing is attached to both object and target, though loses effect about ten minutes after creation, so it is sometimes used to capture other anomalies. While not strong, it is important that Webb doesn’t escape because any urge to recontain it will be suppressed. At most extreme, it can shut down a person till they’re paralyzed, which on a few occasions was enough to stop a human heart because continuing to beat was simply too much effort.

Dr. Blake: The Scimitar Smile. It is a set of 32 humanoid teeth with a crack through the upper right incisor due to an encounter with Agent Boore. The teeth can move somehow, and tend to hunt in a pack. On their own, a person within their aura will be acutely aware of their own flaws. Often persons with disabilities such as PTSD or anxiety will be triggered by its presence. Exposure to this object leads to strong self loathing and occasional suicides.

It’s when it gets a Host that the Scimitar Smile is at its most dangerous. Once a Host is selected, the teeth will crawl up them and burrow like ticks into the flesh of their cheeks in the arrangement of an external smile. The Scimitar Smile prefers to keep Hosts for a while, but will inevitably abandon it, and during escapes will take many Hosts in rapid succession. Old Hosts tend to scream when they hear their own names, have very little agency, and are incredibly compliant to orders.

Once assimilated, both the Host and the Scimitar Smile’s mouths will begin to speak, saying different things. When recorded and replayed, it sounds like chattering nonsense. Despite being unaware of its contents, the noise is regarded as a cognitohazard as it tends to drive people insane. Only a few reports of what individuals hear in person exist, as those that survive are left in psychological annihilation and refuse to talk about what they heard and did as a result. What we can piece together is this: Past being aware of their flaws, a listener is manipulated into acting on them in the most self destructive way possible.

The Scimitar Smile brings out the worst in people.

#I feel like Thomas would be the most tolerable to hang around #Except for the racist rhetoric #Like Sec Cam B probably gets the fewest people killed but they’d be insufferable #Scp Webb does swing around like spider-man #The scimitar smile is kept in one of those freaky baby teeth wooden boxes #I think Dr. A. Gon is horrifying but still probably less evil than fault Philza #Just bc Philza is a bit of a dad yandere #happens to the best of us #I loved contorting their flaws in order to make them villains. Just pushing them all to extremes until they became awful #scp ocs #scp au #sbi scp au #dark sbi #sleepy bois inc #scp tubbo #scp philza #scp tommyinnit #scp technoblade #scp wilbur #villain oc #Oh let’s see about those tws #body horror tw #teeth cw #suicide mention #human experimentation #emotional abuse #scp oc #fault au #something to nom on #sbi au

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youreyeslookliketheocean · 1 year ago

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Chapter summary:

It should be easy. Shoot a vine, grab Wilbur’s wrist or torso or, really, whatever he can with the limited time he’s been given, pull him back. He’s yanked the heroes out of danger dozens of times. All it takes is a good shot.

Instead, for a split second, Tommy hesitates. For some reason, Wilbur’s voice is ringing in his head, telling him he shouldn’t have powers. That he’s just like his parents. That he’s not a hero.

Tommy hesitates.

And with a release of Jester’s hand, Wilbur falls.

Or, Wilbur's starting to form connections and Tommy gets semi-kidnapped

#mcyt #mcyt fanfic #sbi #sleepy bois inc #sbi fanfic #sleepy bois inc fanfic #tommyinnit #philza minecraft #technoblade #wilbur soot #dsmp #heroes and villains #heroes and villains au #fanfic #crimeboys #crimeboys fanfic

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paper-gold-theories · 2 years ago

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HeroFlugAU [That Thing is a Killing Machine]

GoldHeart: You know, you could have told me earlier you used BlackHat’s dna to create that thing!

Flug: I needed to run some tests firsts before we jumped to any conclusions, like now…

[Flug gestures to the makeshift barricade GoldHeart created for the both of them by flipping the living room couch over, with 5.0.5. at the other side of the room with his drawings]

Flug, anticipated GoldHeart might react this way and already planned for it: Don’t you think you’re being a little paranoid about 5.0.5. ?

GoldHeart, sputters: Paranoid! It's BlackHat’s offspring, the monster might come back for his child. That thing is a killing machine!

[5.0.5. happily spins in a circle before falling down on a pile of his drawings]

GoldHeart (shaking Flug): I bet one day it’s waiting for us to fall asleep and then *wham*, we’re easy prey, Flug. Easy prey. We’re sitting targets!

Flug (calmly trying to explain to a paranoid GoldHeart): GoldHeart, BlackHat doesn't care about any of his offsprings to get them back, which he has hundreds of and not all of them turn out to be evil.

Flug: Plus, I ran some tests on experiment 5.0.5. and he’s completely harmless and innocent. And most likely indestructible, so there’s nothing we can do about it but take care of him.

GoldHeart: That’s exactly how the gremlins start off first, Flug!

GoldHeart: Okay, I have a plan. I’ll call the P.E.A.C.E. extraction team and they’ll fly here with their choppers and release him back into the wild -

Flug: …GoldHeart, we can’t just release Pachoncito into the wilderness he's-

GoldHeart, confused: Pachoncito? What’s Pachoncito?

Flug: That’s my nickname for experiment 5.0.5. Is there a problem?

GoldHeart, facepalms: Flug, you’re not supposed to name it, once you name it you start getting attached to it.

GoldHeart: Now, put that thing back where it came from OR SO HELP ME!!

_____

It took a lot of convincing, but Flug managed to get GoldHeart to agree to let him keep 5.0.5. for now.

Flug knows how to deal with GoldHeart…

#goldheart pulls a mike wazowski #flug pulls a sully trying to calm him down #villainous #villanos #dr flug #dr kenning flugslys #goldheart #gold heart #herbert leth #incorrect quotes #source: mosters inc #villainous incorrect quotes #villainous headcanons #villainous au #HeroFlugAU #villainous black hat #villainous blackhat

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midnightfire830 · 10 months ago

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@sirensea14 I blame you. This is your fault. /lh /jjjjjjjjj 🫵🏻

HE’S THE PRETTIEST GIRL AT THE PARTY!!! /ref

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starlooove · 28 days ago

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Speaking of Velma bring Coco Diablo back pls

#mi gente latina #i Can smell and afro latina a mile away ok #the toxic yuri we could’ve had in mystery Inc with her and Marcy <3 #Tho I do love one off obscure characters like hee bc they’re so easy to slot into my au clashes in my head #like coco diablo DOES make all the villain fits in Gotham #post jail and gay ass arc with yet to be determined #she makes hero costumes too #and still villain ones on the side SHES GOTTA MAKE MONEY GUYS ✨🙄

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calmthefuckdownalright · 1 year ago

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Villain Pool AU

guess what! I'm still on my shit and I was thinking about the different groups in the Dream SMP. The Syndicate particularly. The big 4 would be Phil, Technoblade, Niki, and Ranboo. That's them.

They're our beloved mobsters and with that thought I circled back to the MANY supervillain au's where the Syndicate is made up of basically all of SBI, Beeduo, Jack is there with Niki, and then our lovely Las Nevadas bois Q and Slime. I have yet to see Foolish there but he's an honorable mention

ANYWAY

The Dream Team and their various comrades are commonly seen as "heroes" so-

This got me thinking. The real Syndicate, the og 4 mentioned above is a mafia group. They're mean and exclusively do things themselves. They have money, they have power, but it's all their own and no one has dared take it from them. Except for our lovely rival mafia that was founded out of spite by the Syndicate's head honchos oldest son who basically stole his youngest son to keep him from being influenced.

L'manberg. Aka The Revolutionists. They specialize in causing havoc without hardly lifting a finger or revealing who the hell they really are. They're great at expressing their intentions without being seen. Some call them cowards, and those people are quickly snuffed out.

Now, who is L'manberg you might ask.

Well obviously Wilbur is the eldest son I mentioned and he took Tommy when he was young to get away from Phil's violent business before Tommy got drug into it as a child as Wilbur did. Wilbur tries to convince Technoblade to join them but his brother craves violence and is forever loyal to their fierce father.

In a habit of taking in those who he wishes to keep out of Phil's violent path, Wilbur finds Fundy and takes him in as well. Then along comes Eret, and eventually Tubbo. Others come and "help" L'manberg but they never get close enough to find out who exactly is a participant in the Revolutionists.

There are a few that get in but go through a process to leave as long as they promise to help when called for, and L'manberg will extend their protection to them as well.

These people are few and far between, most of them never being heard from again. But one man...one man causes issues for both the Syndicate and L'manberg.

Quackity Nevadas forms a vigilante group called the Butcher Army where both people from L'manberg and the Syndicate join in. This causes issues and under an alliases of Orpheus and Theseus, Wilbur and Tommy meet with Phil and Techno (who is the Army's target) to get their men back. Of course, everyone from L'manberg is require to keep their identities secret under any and all circumstances. Fundy, Eret, and Tubbo are not real names. They're covers. Even Wilbur doesn't know their real names and they don't know his. They call him Mr. President, and Tommy is Vice.

In the Butcher Army they keep their identities secret as well, Quackity being one of the only ones who flaunts his. In L'manberg he was known as Q which was short for his new allias Quackity but people don't know this and assume that Quackity's parents were just odd since it was weird for a villain to go by two names without one of them being their real one.

With time, Techno dismantles the hunting party for his head without much trouble and both Fundy and Tubbo return to L'manberg with a thourough scolding from their President. Fundy is particularly affected by this because at this point he has considered Wilbur a kind of father figure, or at least a big brother.

(Side note: Everyone in L'manberg doesn't know Wilbur and Tommy are actually brothers. Phil and Technoblade don't know Wilbur and Tommy are Orpheus and Theseus.)

I've gotten a little off track here and forgot to explain in depth how the Syndicate/L'manberg meeting went.

No one has met President and Vice. No one's seen their faces, no one even knows if they exist really besides the ones in L'manberg and even then the both of them stay behind screens during meetings. Wilbur has made sure of that because he knows that if Phil wants to, he can find out who is running the show with the smallest bit of information. Fundy is the closest one to Wilbur and all he knows is that he's tall and has brown hair.

This leads to Phil (who is known on the street as Zephyrus) and Technoblade (The Blood God) not having a clue that their forgotten family is right in front of them. (who they think either left the city or were killed in one of the many villain hero fights (Wilbur totally didn't plant evidence of their bodies to get Phil off their tracks when they first left or anything))

Wilbur knows, Tommy doesn't because he was too young and Wilbur never exactly told him who Zephyrus and The Blood God really were. Anyway here's the little scene I cooked up from the POV of Wilbur:

"I was told we were meeting with the heads of L'manberg. Not some two bit lieutenants." The Blood God snarled. Technoblade. Wilbur itched to punch him, it was always like that when they met. Only one of them knowing everything.

"Who are you calling two bit Tusks?" Tommy spat and Wilbur held back his little brother from lunging forward. Tommy's temper was vital and it made Wilbur smile underneath the carefully crafted mask. The voice modulator distorted Tommy's voice to a much lower pitch which didn't fit his height, but then again Tubbo sounded like a fucking smoker of 30 years some days with hardly even a surgical mask on.

"Easy Theseus." Wilbur warned.

"Get your dog under control." Technoblade demanded and that hurt. That made Wilbur's blood burn in confliction. If only he knew it all.

"Zephyrus if you would refrain your comrade from insulting mine that would be appreciated. This is business, not pleasure." Wilbur said cooly. His voice sounded so smooth, no cracking from dusty rooms and cheap cologne. Ivory keys in a symphony.

"Blood." Zephyrus obliged. Phil, oh Phil made Wilbur angry. All he saw in the glimpses of his face behind the veil was the violence of his own childhood. Phil wasn't abusive, he was rough when he needed to be and overall it was fairly normal. But his expectations...they crushed Wilbur even now. Good thing he thought he was dead.

"Blood God is right, we were told we were meeting with President and Vice of L'manberg. Not their subordinates. We don't even know who you are." Phil was careful in his tone. Cold and daring for aggression.

"We're who they send to do their business. I'm Orpheus and this is Theseus." Wilbur kept a steady hand on Tommy's shoulder. The tight leather gloves over his hands flexed as Tommy tensed to move. Impatient as always.

"Cowards." Technoblade scoffed and Wilbur snapped his head to the one he used to call his brother. If there was one thing he couldn't stand to be called, it was coward. Bastard, fucker, idiot, two bit trash. A burning ship drowning everyone around him. Call him anything but coward. He was just trying to protect those he loved.

"Say that again." Wilbur said low and the voice modulator almost didn't pick up his voice correctly and there was a fault. A glitch and the illusion of Orpheus' voice was ruined.

"You use voice modulators?" Zephyrus inquired and Wilbur cleared his throat. Tommy was practically begging to jump at Technoblade, but Wilbur knew he'd be skewered before he even moved an inch.

"Our identities are sacred if you couldn't tell." Wilbur lifted his chin to reveal just how high his turtleneck went and a dark beanie fully covered his hair. The mask he wore took up his entire face and another mask under it covered his lower jaw and anything on the side that might show. Tommy had his hoodie and similar ski mask material covering his features. The hood over his hair was secured to the mask, so any possibility of it coming off was unlikely.

"Right." Zephyrus examined them and Wilbur could feel those bright blue eyes running alone every crack and crevice of his body to try and find something to use. A description of his hands, a fault in his stance or posture. A habit. Anything.

"Orpheus and Theseus. Mythological heroes. Interesting choice." Phil noticed and Wilbur's blood ran cold.

"Don't analyze, don't analyze, don't analyze." He begged in his head and tore the conversation away from the topic.

"Orpheus wasn't a hero, and Theseus killed his father technically. I wouldn't call them heroes." Wilbur hissed and he saw Phil's eyes blink knowingly. There was his information. All he needed. Wilbur knew his greek fairytales. In a city full of crime, those who were educated enough to even think of those stories were few. Let alone be well versed in them enough to know the technicalities of them all.

"We're not here to chat over aliases." Technoblade cut in and Wilbur clenched his fist, removing his hand from Tommy and folding them neatly behind his back.

"Right. The Butcher Army is after your head and it consists of both our people." Wilbur smiled behind his mask. Force of habit to appear charming and all.

"No habits. Stop it. Phil will notice." He reminded himself and dropped the smirk. He didn't know if there was anything in his body language to show the grin but he didn't want to risk it.

"Your men are leading it." Technoblade reminded him and Wilbur felt the sting of Quackity's betrayal. And just after losing Eret. It hurt like a bitch to remember.

"Quackity is not one of ours. He completed President's exit trial." Tommy had stilled his temper apparently and Wilbur sent a silent thanks to the heavens.

"I wasn't aware people could leave L'manberg." Phil observed curiously and Wilbur bared his teeth behind the mask.

"It's a difficult task, like everything else and if you'll notice, Quackity isn't exactly untouched." There was an ugly scar running down the man's chest where Wilbur had sliced him. Quackity had earned his keep, and his silence, so Wilbur was forced to send him to a healer known as Ponk. Ponk was in a duo with a technician Wilbur knew as Warden. Warden made all their technology at a costly price, and his loyalty was undecided. He was a neutral party and Wilbur had reluctantly agreed to offer them protection in exchange for services.

"That doesn't change the fact that two more known L'manberg members are in the Butcher Army." Phil reminds him and Wilbur straightens his back at the threatening tone.

"Doesn't change the fact that one of your trusted members is as well." Wilbur looked to Technoblade. "I wonder what violence you must've done to him to make Ranboo hate you enough to join your own murder gang."

Technoblade growled. Oh he growled and Wilbur growled back.

"Prince doesn't hate me." Technoblade growled the code name and Wilbur chuckled, stepping in front of Tommy and facing his brother.

"Ranboo, has met with us a few times himself. He's taken a fondness to-" Tommy kicks Wilbur in the calf and Wilbur blinks. The enchantment vanishes and Wilbur steps away.

Adrenaline; that was part of Technoblade's powers. Causing so much of it to go through a person they don't think clearly until its too late. Perfect for hunting down those who've crossed him and the Syndicate.

"Fond of who? Go on." Technoblade dared and bared his fangs in an ugly smirk. Wilbur scowled.

"This was supposed to be peaceful." Wilbur muttered, lacing his Influence into his tone. Technoblade blinked away the magic quickly, it was weak, only meant to suggest the idea of calming things down. nothing that would alert Phil at whose powers his own were so similar to.

"It is." Phil said, Wilbur's voice had never worked on him. Probably something to do with those damn bird traits of his.

"You've done nothing but threaten and accuse." Tommy stepped back to Wilbur's side.

"Allegedly." Phil said and flared his black wings. "You take care of your own, and we'll handle ours. how's that sound?"

There was something ominous. Something warning and teasing and something that told Wilbur that Phil knew something he shouldn't. A habit of presenting himself as charming and intelligent surely couldn't be enough to narrow it down. Phil did like the hunt though.

That much Wilbur knew for a fact.

Hehehehe

Anyways, I'm working on maybe making an A03 account and publishing this fic there. I need a title though. I didn't expect this to turn into something. This started as an AU rant...now I need titles and I'll figure out a proper name for the AU later

#dsmp #wilbur soot #tommyinnit #sbi #sleepy bois inc #philza minecraft #philza #villain au #mafia au

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