#ctommy fic

[4thebedrockbros]

THE SBI 'PJO' AU I DESERVE

( The base is PJO but I'm still making shi- up, this is Tommy centric btw )

Philza Minecraft as a Chiron like figure to the camp, just taking in the god's stray children, very in character. He's married to Thanatos (whos is actually Kristen in this AU).

Technoblade as an Athena son but cursed by Ares because of his human family cult and disrespect toward the war god. The curse of the voices is hard to control and he's luckily found by Phil after loosing control once.

He's been in the camp since he was 8 and is 19(?) at the time of the story.

Bonus info: The guy has a lot of respect for Demeter since farming is one of his favourite thing to do.

Tommy as a non-claimed kid, found by Tubbo (a Satyr) while a monster was attacking his school (because of him). They both run away from it, but Tommy has to kill it when the monster grabs Tubbo (He's his first ever friend, he can't just let him die) and that's how our guy made his way to the camp

Bonus info: Mortals just thought Tommy was crazy and seeing monster everywhere, they also put it on the account of him being autistic (Autistic!cTommy <3)

Tommy is very much against all of the rules and very angry about the fact that his godly parent just chose to ignore him so he tends to cause problem and get into fights a lot in his first days at the camp

+ Tubbo being in a semi coma from being injured is really not helping

So Phil kinda puts Techno on the case because of him being one of the best fighter and Tommy clearly needing an outlet, Phil is also worried about the youngling just turning against the gods and even the camp (Luke style yk) which is enhanced when the Pythia (that is possessing Ranboo here) appears and says a new prophecy in front of the whole camp where Tommy is mentioned to be the cause of the world's end or the hero that will save it.

(It's honestly still a messy idea but y'all get it)

[urfavcrime]

dsmp is still SO insane to me. still not completely convinced it wasn't a social experiment. it is something that can never be replicated again due to the really specific circumstances that attributed to it's creation and popularity

[teethkid67]

i went up and came down different

separates & details under the cut

been running with this concept that ctommy post revival is a uneven .... skull not quite realigned and jaw not quite relocated . as a result his eyes are off and his depth perception is fucked . thank you all and goodnight

[sunsetcdiscs]

Posting to tumblr as well because its genuinely just sooo. Ugh

[nomsfaultau]

FINAL SECTION

Hybrid AU in exile week where avian instincts can take over to a degree that is almost horrific, erasing someone’s personality and rationality when they’re panicking. First part here.

“I can’t make promises that this will cure anything,” Philza reminds him. Tommy scoots towards the cliff ledge of the frozen bay, a kicked pebble plummeting, plummeting, crunching into the ground below, blood and pain spilling out of him. He tries to focus on fluffy white clouds and pretty scenery but all he can see is the tower from exile. The choppy, turbulent waters of the sea he always woke up drowning in. His chopped off feathers fanning around his abuser’s mask. 

He’s pulled away from the hypnotizing reverie when strong arms wrap around his chest. Philza’s steady heartbeat hums against the back of his head. It’s so wonderfully comfortable in a way that makes him nervous. He’s tried to avoid close contact with Phil, but there isn’t much of an option now. “.....ommy? Tommy? Mate?”

“Huh?” His head feels like it’s swimming. 

“I asked if you feel secure enough.” No. Tommy can’t remember the last time he felt safe. Well. Aside from what his avian instincts were tricked into believing. He doesn’t trust the feeling all that much. 

What he says instead is, “If you drop me I’ll stab you.” Philza chuckles. 

“Fair enough. If it helps I never dropped Techno the few times he let me fly him.” 

“Bruh. Never accidentally, more like,” Techno mutters darkly, earning a smirk. But Phil assures Tommy it’s going to be as gentle a flight as possible. Which probably isn’t a very accurate replication of a first flight. Vaguely Tommy remembers his own from when he was a kid, a scrambling terrifying elating freeing chaotic tangle rushing at him faster than the wind. It had felt so right, once. Natural, like he was growing up. Finally independent, not needing to rely on a guardian anymore. Tommy wants that feeling more than anything in the world right now. Tommy needs Philza to be right, for this flight to fix him. Even just a little, just enough to know it’s possible. 

But the memory of his recent failed flight is far sharper, of the moment he realized his abuser was right about him. An overhanging shadow of doom, despair, dependence. 

Phil tries to nudge Tommy forward, towards the edge, and suddenly Tommy’s panic spikes. He scrambles back, almost expecting resistance, expecting Phil to dump him off the tower. But Philza easily gives away, letting him retreat even as scarlet shame fills him. 

“Uh…are you scared of heights?” Techno asks. 

“No, don’t be stupid,” Tommy snarls. “Stop laughing at me, oh how ironic the avian hates heights, I’m not stupid, I’m not scared of the tower. How about you try jumping off a cliff and see how you like heights, pig boi. I’m not scared. I’m not stupid.” 

“Never said you were. I wasn’t making fun of you,” Techno replies mildly, hooves held out in pacification. “And, uh, what’s the tower?” 

Shame throttles Tommy. Philza frowns at a memory. “...is it the structure I found you at?” 

“I was trying to fly,” Tommy mumbles. He had been trying a lot of things. Some of them had very nearly succeeded. 

Techno and Philza wince as they remember the bloody, almost dead state they’d found Tommy in all those weeks ago. “Could do it with your eyes closed,” Techno suggests. “Just like when I clean up your wings.” Techno’s tusks twist in thought, then he roots around in his bag. He presses a glass bottle into Tommy’s hands. 

“It’s not going to work if I’m asleep, idiot.” 

“Nah, it’s Slow Falling. Just smash it if you need it, alright? It’s the extended version so no matter how high up you are you’ll get to the ground safely. Whenever I get anxious about somethin’ I like to over prepare. That way I have a plan to think about instead when my brain tries to run through disasters.” Oh. Tommy stares at the foggy, half frozen potion. The knots in his gut ease a little. Not the terrifying plummet of the tower, but something slow and gentle. It can’t quite ease the instinctive fear rolling inside his subconscious, but it soothes his more logical balking. What helps even more is knowing Techno cares enough to look at his fear and somehow untangle it in a way Tommy could never manage on his own. 

Techno and Phil are both trying so hard to help Tommy with the messy, ugly parts of himself. Not pushing him away because of it or ignoring the bad, but accepting and working with it. And if they’re trying so hard, they must think it’s possible for it to get better. Maybe they’re right, or will be if Tommy gives it his all, too. 

“... and if that’s not enough I can get you Feather Fall boots. I’d give mine but, well, hooves. It’ll take a bit to make, but you wouldn’t get hurt as badly if there’s ever another fall like that.” 

Tommy splits into a tentative smile. “Really? You’d do that for me?” 

The tension lining his broad shoulders eases, taking on a lopsided grin. “Well. Well you’d have to pay me. I’m not a charity out here, kid. But. Maybe I can get you a friendship discount.”

“We can wait till the boots are done to fly,” Phil offers. “There will be another windless day.” But Tommy clutches his potion. Now. He needs to do it now, when hope still hums in his chest. He can do whatever he has to for it to be easier for himself, not get overwhelmed with shame and loathing and refuse to ever make it better. 

And if what it takes for him to fly is a potion clutched for dear life, is large black wings that aren’t his own spreading out, is his face buried in the crook of Phil’s neck so he doesn’t have to see, then all that means is Tommy is flying. Maybe not the way he’s meant to, but the only way he can. Maybe it’s enough. 

He screams with the first swoop, clawing into Philza for safety. Strong arms press him closer to Philza’s chest, reassuring in their tight hold. The nascent reverberations of a coo Philza bites down rumbles in the throat Tommy’s tucked into, instinctively weakening his coiled tension. The flight smooths into a gentle glide, the plummet of Tommy’s gut vanishing. Only the wind tearing past assures him of their movement. 

He knows they can’t be falling, but he can’t shake the thought. Scared, he pries open a eye. Unlike the tower, the ground isn’t rushing up to shatter him. Icy waves scroll past slowly beneath them, almost still. Sunlight glitters across glaciers, burning in radiant streaks. The tranquil arctic sea is starkly incongruous with the terror ebbing in his chest. His urgent nightmares give way to new peaceful memories, the spark of fear unable to catch. Tommy’s death grip on the potion eases from its white-knuckled terror. 

It hasn’t been long enough when they’ve crossed the bay, Phil coming to a careful stop on an outcropping. There’s an awkward moment as Phil tries to set him down and Tommy still clings on. As cold as it is Tommy doesn’t mind being tucked underwing. 

“Alright, check in time. How was the glide? Do you want to try more compli- oh- oh mate,” Philza says in a soft, fragile way as he finally catches a look at Tommy. He bends slightly till they’re face to face, carefully brushing away blossoming tears. Tommy wants to shove him away, pretend it was the wind. But it feels so nice to sink into the warm, calloused palm cupping his cheek. “This cliff connects to the mainland if you’d prefer to walk back. We can try again later. Or never. Whatever you need���” 

Tommy shakes his head, dismissing his worries. “I didn’t know how much I missed it.” 

Philza’s smile is a mixed thing, half relief half heartbreak. “Flying should’ve never been taken from you. But before long your new primaries will come in and you’ll be able to soar on your own.” Before the thought had filled him with dread, but the memory of wind gushing through his feathers dulls the edge of his insecurities. One day he’ll have feathers his abuser never touched. 

On the return flight Tommy doesn’t need to hide, instead facing outward like Phil initially planned. Probably more aerodynamic that way, and it gives him a better view. Tommy’s wings scrunch up, trying not to get in the way of Philza. The flight is rougher than the glide, Philza flapping quickly to gain upward momentum. Tommy’s gut swoops, but the ascension is so unlike his plummet, a controlled and triumphant race towards the heavens. The arms wrapped around his midriff are secure and not for a second does he imagine falling. The shift of Philza’s muscles against his back with each beat of his wings almost feels like his own strain against the wind, almost feels like his own wings. He finds himself tensing in the pattern of it, echoing Philza’s minute adjustments to the wind current. 

Tommy’s wings instinctively begin to spread. They’re so ragged and ugly compared to Philza’s sleek ebony plumage. Mud colored, his abuser teased once. But in the streaks of close sunlight they glow with auburns and golds, the white undersides softer than the surrounding clouds. They wobble slightly as wind buffets the pair, and quickly Tommy straightens out fully, hesitance forgotten. As air slips through his feathers something wakens in him. It feels right in a way so little has recently. 

Philza caws at him, subtly rocking, and Tommy leans into it, copying the tilt of his wings as they arc into a loose gyre. Tommy grins as he earns an approving coo, dutifully mimicking Philza’s exaggerated, coached movements. He flaps, Tommy’s wings awkwardly crashing into his the first few times till he gets in rhythm, the pair climbing higher into the azure. Perhaps for Philza it feels like teaching, but for Tommy it feels like remembering. All the little instinctive details he’d forgotten, all rushing back like they’d never left, like an old nostalgic song he’d thought he forgot the lyrics to until he heard the tune again. His own short wings stretch out beneath Philza’s massive black ones, flapping and angling to match. It’s as if they become one. 

An elated chirp bursts out of Tommy, and for once he doesn’t slam his hands over his mouth. It doesn’t overwhelm him, this joy, doesn’t rob him of his senses. It feels like laughter, something drawn out, not forced upon him. A wild, booming caw explodes from Philza in response, vibrating deep in the chest Tommy is flush against. Tommy is delighted to discover his vibrant, bubbly chirps are prettier than Philza’s raspy caws, though they surely hold no less enthusiasm. Suddenly it makes sense why they’re always so loud and ear-piercing. Words are only whipped away in the rush of the wind. The pair twitter back and forth, less a language and more intuition and tone. It feels like pure joy. 

Their descent is slow and winding, Philza careful to avoid anything resembling a dive or swoop. He’s disappointed when they finally land at the first cliff. It’s dizzying to go from feeling like the wind itself to be standing on firm ground once again. Unconsciously Tommy’s wings flare out, echoing the memory of freedom still ringing in his head. The careful angling for aerodynamics, adjusting to currents of wind. He steps back towards the cliff, tensing as if to launch once more. 

A hand lands on his shoulder, and Tommy blinks. “Hold on, I need a break first.” Phil smiles at the impatience in his eyes.

“Tired old man! I bet I’ll be an even faster flier than you. I’ll leave you in the dust.” Tommy puffs up his chest, but mischief suddenly dances in Philza’s eyes, and Tommy huffs. “What’s so fun-”

“BOO!” Techno shouts, jabbing Tommy in his soft sides. The boy shrieks, feathers fluffing up as he’s seized and lifted into the air. He thrashes and flaps wildly, but the piglin’s long arms prevent retaliation. 

“OOOOOH I’M GOING TO STAB YOU. YOU DON’T EVEN KNOW HOW MUCH I’M GOING TO STAB YOU.” Tommy smirks in satisfaction as his wing bashes Techno in the snout. It falters as Techno swings him around and around until the world blurs. Tommy stumbles as he’s set down, then leans against Techno as he tries to overcome the vertigo. “There, now I got my turn flying you. I’m sure it was the exact same deeply bonding experience you just had with Phil. I’m guessing it worked?” 

“It was fantastic!” Tommy enthuses, stretching his wings out. 

“I meant the hatchling thing. Like, you didn’t freeze up when I spooked you.”

“Oh.” Tommy had…kinda forgotten about that part. “...maybe?” He catches himself and jerks his head up. “Actually, since I have no possible way of knowing we’ll just have to go on a bunch more flights. You know. Just in case. You never can be sure with these things.” 

Philza chuckles and tucks him neatly underwing, pulling him close. “Oh yes, really cement the milestone to your instincts.”

Tommy laughs as Philza scuffs up his hair, batting him away. “Oi! Don’t mess with the Tommy Charm™!” When meticulously fixing his locks, he freezes as his fingers encounter a foreign object. He slowly pulls out one of Philza’s feathers from where it had accidentally gotten lodged in his hair. He runs his finger along the vane, watching dark barbs ripple, iridescence catching the light in flashes of indigos and wines. 

Philza goes a little rigid. “Ah- sorry mate, didn’t mean to shed on you.” He reaches for the feather, but Tommy is mesmerized by it, flicking the edges so the barbs part then preening them back into smooth completion. 

“Can I keep it?” he asks before he quite plans to. He doesn’t mean to, knows he’s only getting Phil’s hope up. He wants to shove it back in his mouth. He doesn’t. 

“Y-yeah. Sure mate. If you want to.” Phil barely clamps down on bursting euphoria, trying to be as calm and nonchalant as possible. In avian culture, wearing another’s feathers is a promise to carry the person as safely as their own two wings. Hadn’t Philza already done that? Hadn’t he already promised to always? He’s so, so ready to be family, but even if Tommy is painfully aware of it, Philza never intentionally pressures him. He’s just…allowed to take things at his own speed. Tommy doesn’t slip the feather behind his ear, but he doesn’t let go of it, either. That night he tucks it next to a picture of the three of them. It doesn’t feel overwhelming, more like a gentle promise for when he’s ready for it. 

And one day he will be. Not now, though. Not when some small panicked creature in him wants to bolt at the thought of wearing Philza’s feathers, let alone how he feels about his own. 

But one day he’ll wear both their feathers with pride. 

Fin.

[goldenduoses]

i miss u forever c!goldenduo

theyre strictly queerplatonic AND THE CHARACTERS before u get any ideas [speechless]

CTOMMY DESIGN BY URS TRULY !! MY FAVORITE DEMON HYBRID BEING >_< (he uses every pronouns available) ft. cpurps big ass jacket

[liakunemui]

tumoasd tommy fanart from last year :D

[thatweirdguyinthebushes]

hunger games au where ctubbo volunteers for ctommy because he knows he’ll be able to kill and tommy wont. he wins the games by shutting himself down completely but then cant stop doing it when he comes back, and becomes so repressed and emotionally distanced from himself that he’s not even the same person and ctommy doesnt know how to help. the gold by manchester orchestra. you agree.

[your-local-crypt1d]

@urfavcrime hope it was okay to tag but I've been itching for an excuse to talk about Gem and Tommy!! Forgive me if this is a bit ooc I've only watched a few of Gems videos-

Gem takes her role as Auntie very seriously. 

At first, she was a bit miffed about the whole situation. fWhip had no intention to tell her—his sister—about this, and she would have gone on unaware of Tommy even longer if fWhip wasn't terrible at hiding him. Doesn't fWhip trust her?

After fWhip explains the whole situation (Tommy has come from some kind of abusive situation; fWhip doesn't know the details, just that Tommy pleaded to be kept hidden so "he" never finds him), Gem eases up about the whole affair. 

Seeing the fondness fWhip has for Tommy, the way he effortlessly laughs at his jokes and gently scolds him for his bad language, is enough to convince Gem that everything is okay and that her brother hasn't made some huge mistake she'll need to fix. 

Gem's actually quite proud of fWhip for taking on such a big responsibility. I don't think she'd view him as parent material until she sees the way he interacts with Tommy.

Gem acts sort of like an old grandma when Tommy visits, always checking if he's hungry, and even if he says no, she's shoving plates of food towards him. complaining about how fWhip doesn't feed him enough, and he's all skin and bones (which, when you live in the snowy mountains, body fat is very important). 

She lets Tommy borrow a few simple spell books after he whined and pleaded to be taught magic (not enchantment table magic that's cringe and lame, real poggers magic like hers!). If she had any doubts about Tommy being fWhips' kid before, she certainly has none after Tommy nearly blows up half of the Eastvale Manor with magic. He is promptly banned from performing magic at home unsupervised. 

The Crystal Cliffs are a nice getaway from the Grimlands when Tommy needs it. Gems' tower doesn't have the regular echo of explosions and fireworks. Tommy has slowly grown to learn that he's safe in Eastvale and that fWhips' experiments won't ever be used to hurt him. But even if you consciously know something isn't dangerous, that doesn't necessarily translate over to your subconscious, and it certainly doesn't for Tommys' C-PTSD. So on occasion, he goes to stay with Gem when it's all too loud and stressful at home.

The only problem with it is that Tommy has a habit of running off and not telling anyone where he's going. Tommy does it a lot more than he'd admit—a flight response to his fear of abandonment, I suppose. Tommy could get away with it when no one was worried about where he'd be going, but now he has people who care for his safety (fWhip) and would burn down empires to find him. He's raising his whole familys' blood pressure; Papa fWhip is no exception. 

Luckily, Gem knows this and will send a message to fWhip every time Tommy comes to see her, regardless of whether he says fWhip is aware or not. Gem is good at remembering the little things that are important with Tommy: the areas he doesn't like being touched but won't say, the way he likes his tea, the kinds of sounds that upset him, etc. 

Gem, as usual, tries to be the voice of reason in her chaotic family, so she's usually the one who has to stop Tommy from causing problems on purpose (fWhip is an instigator, and Sausage always wants to join in). Think of Gem picking him up by the scruff of his clothes so Tommy doesn't bite someone who mildly inconvenienced him. She can and will invent a whole new spell that's just an up-sized child leash if she has to, young man, do not test her. or she just lightly bonks him on the head with her staff; that works when he steals her hat. 

All that being said, Gem is a lot more forgiving of Tommy if he does something genuinely wrong. I imagine she'd view him in a similar light to the way she views her Pillager students, "good people from bad homes," and all. She's patient when Tommy doesn't understand why something he did is wrong and never expresses anger towards him, just understanding and kindness. It works surprisingly well, especially with some sort of physical touch (handholding, hugs) to help ground Tommy in the present and remind him that he's not going to be exiled or hurt for 'fucking up' again. 

It's confusing for Tommy why fWhip and Gem are both so nice to him when he clearly doesn't deserve it for inconveniencing them all the time. But he's also desperate for the love and attention they give him, so as much as he hates it and feels weak leaning into it, he happily calls her Auntie Gem, and out of earshot, he refers to fWhip as 'dad'. 

Gem is the #1 supporter of fWhip officially adopting Tommy, and she's not subtle about it whatsoever. fWhip hasn't signed the papers yet because he doesn't want to lock Tommy into something he doesn't want, and Tommy hasn't brought it up because he doesn't want to annoy fWhip, and it is so frustrating to watch. More frustrating than Gem watching Scott and Jimmy not realising their crushes on each other are mutual. 

That's all I've got so far with her. Sorry, it's not a whole lot 🖤

[maigetheplatypus57]

honestly to me cbench's canonical ending after the nuke is cbeeduo divorce with ranboo having full custody of michael and raising him in the nether (in whichever server caimsey has their finale in) while clingy run their town on tommy smp (or occasionally server hop)...

...but there's a part of me that was and still is so enamored with cbench qpr endings... and in that version of canon in my mind I like to imagine that after ranboo and michael left aimsey's house they hop off server and meet up with tommy and tubbo who were waiting for them in the server hub... cbench's rings glinting in the sunlight... and together the four of them walk off, tommy and ranboo swinging michael in between them as he giggles... heading home to their bustling town... full of new friends and laughter and happiness and love... so much love...

[icebear4president]

“Techno, Techno look at me,” he demanded, roughly grabbing Techno’s face with his hands, until he was forced to look him in the eyes. Tommy ignored the way the snow was turning red underneath his feet and the blood that trickled down his chin, instead pulling Techno downwards so their foreheads touched. Techno was snarling and twisting to get out of his grip, sword abandoned to now dig his claws into the boy’s arms.

Tommy winced, but refused to waver. “Fight it, Techno! I know you’re stronger than this! I know it’s not your fault. And I’m here, I’m here to make it all better. Always.”

Why wasn’t it working? The scent of blood should have broken through the voices, so why didn’t it. Did one too many betrayals finally snap the thread that bound them together. Had Tommy broken the last of their relationship that was left. Tommy choked on a sob, no longer able to hold his own weight, and wrapped his arms around Techno’s shoulders.

“Come back to me, please. Don’t be afraid, I’m here, your little brother is here,” he whispered into Techno’s neck. “I love you, Techie.”

But Techno didn’t love him enough anymore for the voices to be quelled. And that was okay, Tommy understood. At least he tried, one last time.

With that thought, he let himself fall.

-

Techno startled awake, chest rising and following with the pain of a million needles puncturing his lungs.

He had gotten angry, he doesn’t even remember what for, all he knew was how he let the anger fester instead of pushing back against it. He didn’t want help this time, he wanted to feel blood on his hands and he didn’t care whose it was.

But now he needed to get home. He needed…

“Tommy.”

His brother’s name left his lips as quiet as a whisper. His brother, the little kid he would hold in his arms as if he was still a little baby, his runt, his family. He looked so small curled up like that in the snow, and if it wasn’t for the horrible scene if almost looked as if he was sleeping, that Techno could just scoop him up and bring him home to tuck him into bed.

Techno crawled forward and shook his shoulder gently. “Tommy, time to get up.” No answer. Why wasn’t he answering. “Tommy this isn’t funny! Wake up!”

He began shaking him more vigorously now, but it didn’t phase the boy in the least. His eyes remained close, blood now beginning to dry into his once golden curls. “Tommy, please…”

Techno could fight a thousand men in one go to protect his little brother, but this, this was a battle Techno couldn’t win. This time, Techno couldn’t be the hero in Tommy’s story.

And for the first time in his life, the voices went completely silent.

[hunnicakez]

Ctommy having a nightmare about exile and ctubbo comforting him but also feeling awful cause he was the one who had made the decision to exile Ctommy

When Tommy woke up, he wasn't expecting to be covered in sand. Where was he?

It took him a moment to realize exactly where he was. Oh.

He felt incredibly confused, why was he here? Wasn't he at home earlier?

—You've been sleeping for a good while, what a pity that all of that was just a dream, right?—

That voice... Tommy turned around immediately.

—Dream...what are you..—

—Have you forgotten? I'm your best friend, of course I'm going to be here—

Dream's mocking tone was sending the boy into hyperventilation. No way. He couldn't be back here. No.

No no no no no no.

—No, I was-... I was with Tubbo, at home, I spent so long away from this place.—

—Oh so you really think that you could escape?—

His eyes were dwelling up with tears. Had all his freedom really only been a dream? No, it couldn't be.

—Don't cry, Tom, you'll always have me, even if Tubbo blatantly betrayed you and stabbed you in the back, I'm your best friend! You are never alone, Tommy—

Tommy was horrified, so much so that his chest started to hurt and felt sick to his stomach.

Abruptly, he woke up. A scream coming out of his own throat breaking the calm silence in the room. He had barely a couple of seconds to turn to the side before he was already throwing up on the floor.

It was a nightmare. Right? It had all just been a cruel nightmare... Can't Dream just leave him alone once and for all?

His chest still hurt, and he felt dizzy all over. He couldn't help but break down sobbing.

Suddenly, the lights in his room turned on, Tubbo walking in, worried.

—Tommy-? Tommy! What happened? I heard a scream and- did you throw up? Oh my god, wait, I'll go clean that.—

The blond didn't even register anything of what Tubbo said. He simply kept crying and shaking on his bed. A couple of minutes later, the vomit poodle was gone, cleaned off by Tubbo, who was sitting on Tommy's bed, trying his best at comforting him.

—Shh... Shh... Everything is going to be alright... What happened?—

Tubbo asked, his voice as gentle as he could make it, softly caressing Tommy's head.

Tommy had clung to Tubbo, hugging him tightly as little by little his sobbing faded out.

—I... It was a nightmare—

Tommy's shaky voice made the brunet hug him tighter, wanting to comfort his best friend with all his might.

—I was back in Logstedshire, exile... Dream was there...—

It's all the explanation the younger could muster. Those words hit Tubbo like a bucket of ice cold water falling down on him.

Exile was all his fault. Completely his fault. He had basically stabbed Tommy in the back.

Tubbo felt like throwing up. To this day he could not forgive himself for such a thing, probably never will.

He felt horrible, hiding his face on Tommy's shoulder.

—It's okay... You're okay... Your exile ended long ago... You're with me now—

Whispered Tubbo reassuringly, maybe for the both of them.

Not too long after, both of them fell back asleep, still clinging tighter onto each other.

[kingpinparrot]

Drew my fic cTommy’s interacting because I believe they could fix eachothers problems.

[doodlebloo]

Hi I wrote a quick fix-it ficlet to make me feel better. Enjoy <3

-

"And then, I turn to him and I say, 'Do you want to be friends?' Fade to black."

Tubbo and Ranboo share a glance.

"...That sucked."

"Yeah. That might have been your worst story so far."

Tubbo disagrees, really - He thinks Tommy's worst story tonight has been the one about Skeppy being named the server's new king - but this story has put an equal damper on their sleepover.

The blanket fort they've haphazardly arranged in the mansion's living room seems to agree. It leans pecariously to one side, threatening to collapse and bury them in linens and sheets.

Tubbo cradles his pillow close to his chest, legs crossed. To his right, Ranboo lies on his back, staring up at the ceiling. Tommy sits in front of them, lying on his stomach with his head in his fists, pouting.

"It did not suck," Tommy protests with a whine. "Tubbo, you- You got to use a nuke, man, I made you so badass."

"Yeah, but like, why? And why did we lose all our memories?"

"And why did you forgive Dream?" Ranboo chimes in. "He was- I mean, he was pretty awful to you."

"Yeah, but this- In this story, he's a good guy deep down. He's just- He was really lonely, and so he-"

"Bullshit," Tubbo interrupts. "Dream is a fucking maniac, and you know that, Tommy."

Tommy looks away, chewing his lip.

Tubbo's brow furrows. "Tommy."

"No, no, I- I know. Dream was... Dream was bad."

"Mhm," Ranboo agrees encouragingly.

Tommy swallows roughly. "And... And he wasn't my friend. He was not my friend."

Tommy sounds like he's convincing himself more with each repetition, but Tubbo steps in regardless, leaning forwards to meet Tommy's eyes.

"He wasn't," Tubbo quietly insists. "And you don't have to forgive him if you don't want to. Ever."

Tommy opens his mouth to say something, but shuts it quickly. He takes a shakey breath, burying his face in the pillows beneath him.

Tubbo leans backwards on his hands to give Tommy space. "Besides, he's fucking dead now, dude. Nobody to even forgive."

"Mm. I'm glad that guy's dead," Ranboo murmurs.

Tubbo smiles, flopping down on his back to lie next to them. "Yeah?"

"Yep."

"Well, I'm glad this guy's alive," Tubbo pokes at Ranboo's side teasingly.

Ranboo giggles, turning to look at him. "Aw, you don't mean that, come on now."

Tubbo grins. "I do, actually. Nice to hear you breathing and shit."

Tommy groans, so loudly and abruptly that it makes Ranboo jump.

"Stop fuckin' flirting right in front of- I'm having a moment of reflection! I'm- I'm coming to terms with all of my fuckin'- And you two are just, 'Mimimimi, ohh, we're married!'"

"Do we really sound like that?" Ranboo quirks a brow.

"Yes," Tommy and Tubbo respond in unison.

Ranboo sighs. "Well, do you have any idea when you're gonna be done reflecting? I either want to keep flirting or go to sleep."

"Sleep," Tubbo agrees, climbing underneath their designated sleeping blankets. "Fuck flirting. Not worth it."

Ranboo lets out a sad trill, speaking with an audible pout. "No flirting?"

"No, now go to sleep," Tubbo murmurs. "You too, Tommy."

"I wasn't done telling stories, though."

"Then I'll tell a new one. 'Once upon a time, Dream was dead, and me and Tommy and Ranboo all went to sleep. The next morning Michael came and woke us all up and our fort fell down. But we rebuilt it later. The end.'"

"Hooray," Ranboo cheers half-heartedly.

Tommy scoffs, though he moves to climb into their pile of pillows and blankets anyway. "That story was shit."

"You're shit."

"Shut up, man."

"I hate it when you guys fight like this," Ranboo sarcastically murmurs, already half asleep. "Tearing this family apart."

Tubbo yawns. "Yeah, Tommy, stop fighting. Think of the families."

"Fuck you." Tommy throws an arm around Tubbo's waist, thrashing until he's comfortable.

Tubbo smiles. After a few moments of struggling he's able to locate Ranboo's hand under the mountain of blankets on top of them, and he tangles their fingers together. Ranboo reaches to turn off the singular redstone lamp they'd had lighting the fort.

"Love you too, prick," Tubbo slurs. "And you too, honeysuckle."

"Eugh. Now you two are really just doing it to piss me off."

Ranboo snuggles back into bed, tossing and arm across Tubbo's shoulders.

"You should piss him off more often," he whispers into Tubbo's hair.

Tubbo chuckles quietly.

"Don't worry, I plan to. I've got time."

He means to say something else, to keep antagonizing Tommy or snarking to Ranboo or both, but Tubbo quickly drifts off before he's able to form any more coherent thoughts, fading slowly away into overwhelming warmth.

[nomsfaultau]

Hybrid AU in exile arc where avian instincts can take over to a degree that is almost horrific, erasing someone’s personality and rationality when they’re panicking. 

During exile week, Tommy’s abuser takes advantage of the fact, acting nice and doing traditional avian parental behaviors like cooing or wing grooming. They’re way too intimate and make Tommy uncomfortable but as time goes on and he’s starving for affection (and doesn’t want to get punished) Tommy doesn’t resist like he used to. It’s relaxing, or is until the fingers combing through his feathers stop and he remembers to shudder.

During one grooming session, his abuser asks to keep some of his feathers to wear. In avian culture that’s a very intimate familial practice, a mixture between a claim to signify a close bond as well as a promise to carry the person as safely as their own two wings. Tommy’s gut rolls at the thought of his abuser wearing his feathers, and he can’t tell if it’s excitement or dread. But he’s learned not to say no by then, and tries not to flinch as his long pretty primaries are cut. 

An impulsive little stab of happiness shoots through his chest every time he sees his feathers fanning out of his abuser’s mask. He automatically feels a little safer when he sees the feathers, which the rest of Tommy is kind of freaked about. He’s starting to lose his grip on what’s him and what’s his instincts, even if his abuser keeps assuring him to trust his gut since listening to his stupid ideas is what got him in this mess in the first place. The negging is still happening of course, Tommy being weak and too fragile and useless to be able to fly. A chick like him isn’t safe on his own. Tommy doesn’t leave because something inside him is terrified of abandoning the ‘nest’ even though his real home is in L’Manburg.

After putting his stuff in a pit, Tommy accidentally stands too close. The blast catches him. Not the first time, one caught him a day or two ago and he rounded upon his abuser, cursing him out rather stupidly. But now Tommy drops to the ground, feathers fluffed up and pupils dilated as he freezes on the spot. The only movement he can manage is to reach for the man who hurt him in the first place. His distressed chirping noises are only capable of ceasing once he’s in his abuser’s arms. Or rather, his guardian’s embrace. Afterward, Tommy follows him everywhere, until he’s scolded at the nether portal, forced to wait until he comes back. It’s hours before Tommy realizes what he’s doing. The separation is agonizing.

He’s finally imprinted. Took the brat long enough. But Tommy is finally, finally in the palm of his hand, instincts ensnared in a chokehold.

Next>

[merctheplanettotally]

ctommy limbo thoughts that i formulated on twt (scary ik) ((also spoilers!? for the dsmp!?)

ctom's eventual limbo later on, i feel, would change drastically than how it was presented before with her final canon life taken in the prison- the once suffocating void that made him feel like nothing, that had ripped her to shreds and then forced him back together- it takes a softer shape, now.

her limbo is fuzzy, like the static on tv- but there's no buzzing, no sound at all. just. . . this.

i'd like to think ctom wouldn't actively fight death, either. her time came. she's. . . she's not ready, but it is her time. she'll put the sword down, take his armor off, suck in a deep breath.

maybe ctom will decide to sit on the bench, play cat while he observes the flowing water below. maybe she'll decide to give tubbo one last visit, bake something with him. it doesn't matter what he ends up doing- or maybe it does, but he'll do something.

the sun will either set, or rise, or blaze in the middle of the sky, and ctom will be there. the earth welcomes her, flowers growing closer, centipedes and spiders whispering the song of endin his ear. the sun shines a goodbye, clouds becoming wisps and the sky becoming the brightest blue the server has ever seen-

and ctom will be there. relaxing her war-torn muscles, letting her bones rest, closing his eyes, and finally getting the peace she's always deserved. there's no last revenge plan, no sneaking around, no arguing. just. . .

just resting.