#dream smp g/t

[brick-a-doodle-do]

ITS DOOOOONE WOOHOOOOOOO FIC TIMEEE :3333

SPIDERMANSPIDERMANSPIDERMAN! i originally wrote this for beckyu and i kind of still did but i feel bad giving her straight angst so it was INSPIRED by beckyu and her liking of superhero au's at the time dhdjfnnsn

ty to @munchkin1156 and @a-xyz-s for the ending ideas, ANDDD thank you munchkin, @dingbatnix and 3d for proofreading ILY 🫶

(title from doomsday by derivakat)

you're stuck in the web and caught in the lie

wc: 6748

cw: sfw vore, unwilling prey, fatal vore mention, mentions of puking, (lots of) panic, little comfort

—-—

The bulb in the bathroom teases with his sanity, flickering in the corner of Wilbur’s vision as he stares at himself in the mirror. His eyes are heavy, exhaustion lingering on them, for moments before he had been passed out after a long night. Ultimately, he had been woken up by commotion in the streets, but loud feedback from the radio in his room is what drove him out of bed and stumbling into the connecting bathroom. 

Tommy, a borrower he had discovered just before starting his vigilante work, hadn’t been anywhere to be seen as of this morning, which he considered a given since he was housed on the other side of the flat and slept through almost anything.

So, it was just him, splashing water on his face and dabbing it dry with a hand towel. His mask hangs over the edge of the sink bowl, looking warped without a wearer. Wilbur stares at it, frowns, and sighs while swiping it off the porcelain. The tight, sturdy yellow and black fabric stretches in his fingers as he fidgets with the edge of it. After a tiresome moment of consideration, he swipes his hair back and slides the mask on, fitting it under the bodysuit. Wilbur then takes his top layers of clothes off, throwing his shirt and shorts onto the hamper and stretching in the skin-tight suit that makes him cringe.

His radio chatters louder than normal, screams and police sirens amplified through fuzzy audio. He briefly hears someone discuss his name—his hero one, at least—and discuss his absence. Wilbur yawns. He’d rather slip back under the covers of his bed and drift off until the foreseeable future. The only thing standing in the way between Wilbur and his comfort is his moral obligation to perform no bad. 

Offering his masked face a tired rub, he trudges from the bathroom with heavy feet and finds his way back into his bedroom, listening for any indication of where the disturbances are before shutting it off. It goes silent, and now audible are the distant sounds of police sirens echoing throughout the city. Wilbur unlocks his window and slides it open, stepping over the edge and out onto his fire escape. He shuts it, then places two fingers over his palm. Instantaneously, a pearl white web shoots from his wrist, latching onto a nearby building. Quickly, he pulls himself up onto the railing and jumps, hand wrapped tediously around the web as he swings, legs curled up with practiced ease. Through his fatigue, he finds his way through the city, web after web latching onto different buildings that he only lingers on for a few seconds before jumping to the next. 

A few flashes catch his attention from down below as the early-morning crowd of people notice the hero's arrival. For the most part, he ignores them, instead keeping his eyes out for the sounds of sirens and the sight of distress. 

Spotting a crowd, Wilbur zeroes in on it, instinctually latching to a nearby apartment building and landing on the roof half-gracefully. He creeps over the edge, crouched as he approaches. There’s a gathering of police cars, a count of three ambulances and two nearby fire trucks. A whole crowd of pedestrians and traffic has positioned themselves outside of a ring of orange barriers. The only thing Wilbur can’t locate is the problem.

He scans the street, looking beyond the crowd and studying the depths of the block. Wilbur gazes over the horizon, where the only thing to meet him was the beginning of a sunrise. Despite his yearn to watch the upbringing of the morning, he turns his gaze away to find his villain. 

A scream grows exponentially, echoing through the busy street and filtering through his mask. Wilbur whips his head over his shoulder, eyes narrowing as he scans the skyline. He huffs as he’s left without eyes on the villain. 

About half-way to the edge of the rooftop in hopes of contacting the police down below, there’s a piercing screech from directly behind him. Wilbur startles, the noise making him wince and cringe hard enough, leaving him now falling over the edge of the rooftop and into open air, where his eyes widen at the realization of the descent. Reacting quickly, he shoots a web to the railing and latches on, jerking to a stop before letting the web retract and raise him back to the rooftop. Wilbur connects his fingertips and feet with the concrete wall, sticking to it effortlessly while he creeps up the side of the building. 

Through his awkward angle of the top of the ground, he spots a misplaced train car half-dug in the concrete, minute sparks still flying from the impact. Wilbur spots a round of people inside through the tinted windows. They’re jarred, no doubt, presumably both mildly and gravely injured. Only few still move about the confined spot, mostly with agitation and fear. He doesn't mind them for the time being, more focused on the culprit of the disturbance. 

Despite the size of Essempi and their neighboring towns, he didn't meet a lot of supervillains. Occasionally some with creative costumes, though they don't pose much threat—he had himself half-convinced that the serenity of the town was just the beginning of some in-progress-anti-hero organization. 

So, there weren't many villains who could make the technology to haul a train car onto a rooftop. 

His imagination doesn't have to run much longer, for the mechanical noises of XD’s robotic extra arms draws his attention to the side, where the approaching villain stares around the skies for him. Satisfied with his obscurity, Wilbur raises a little bit to get a better view of the scene.

Suddenly, there’s an irritating whir that toys with his eardrums. He looks back, a helicopter catching his line of vision. Fuck. Just as he notices it, the spotlight ticks on and lands directly on him.

Wilbur gasps, squints at the bright light. The space now illuminated around him and XD’s attention turned to him instantly. He ducks down, spinning around so his back is against the wall and facing out to the city. Wilbur finds the attention of the aircraft and makes a motion akin to slicing his neck, silently portraying that they’re doing more harm than good. 

Abruptly, part of the light is obscured from above him, thankfully shadowing the blinding light, although posing even more of a problem than potential blindness. Wilbur sighs, looking up to see XD’s carved mask—his old one—the cracked thing boring daggers into his own mask. 

“Spiderman! Y’know, I thought I hated the cops, they just weren't ever on my side, but look at this! They helped me find you,” XD says, chuckling and then offering a salute to the aircraft. Wilbur’s shoulders slump a little as he flips back over and climbs up to the rooftop, hopping over the railing to find footing on the concrete ground. From this view, he notices that XD’s figure isn't laced with thick armor and his grand mask, and he’s instead stood, black slacks and a neon hoodie with his old smiling mask slapped on his face. His hands are in his pocket, looking casual, almost lazy. 

“You look like you've seen better days,” Wilbur says. Why hasn’t XD made a move yet? 

Dream shrugs. “Didn't want to be too…noticeable.” 

Wilbur looks at the bright green hoodie he’s sporting and then at the train car of people. XD’s arms twitch. 

“You should reconsider,” Wilbur suggests. Within a moment, he flicks a web at XD’s mask to distract him enough before darting to the left of him and running after the train car to help the civilians. XD isn't showing much interest in fighting him, 

Immediately as he approaches the car, he gets halfway to wedging his fingers between the seal in the doors before there’s five metallic fingers wrapping his torso and pulling him through the air. It throws him, wind screaming in his ears around him and hissing in his ears as he begins his descent—over the open air, no building to catch him. The crowd beneath him gasps, loud enough to bring him back to reality. 

His hands find a familiar position and he has the quick reaction to latch two webs onto the railing again. He retracts in a second, back onto the railing, crouched with his hands on the cold bars.

XD still isn't moving. He’s everything but hostile, apart from launching him off the side of the building. The spotlight from the helicopters above whirs loudly, circling the two on the building. 

“What the fuck are you doing?” Wilbur asks finally, snapping XD’s attention to him.

“Okay—look, I should've really planned this out, and I don’t want to totally humiliate you…” XD trails off. Wilbur slips off the railing and onto the roof, standing up to await the villain’s plan. 

“It's kind of late for reconsidering the humiliation, didn't you just launch me off a building?” Wilbur points out.

“Shut up! I'm thinking,” XD insists. 

Wilbur sighs. He runs again, flicking yet another web at the train car. He jumps, the web retracting and he glides overhead the villain, who through the corner of his vision is still caught up picking web off his face. 

He lands on the roof of the train car with grace, considering his next move. Wilbur carefully climbs down to the back of the car, where he’s barely visible. Soothed at the fact, he offers a wave to the city-goers in the car. “I'll get you out,” Wilbur whispers, more of a reassurance to himself than anything.

Winding a quick punch and releasing it just as quick, the glass in the window cracks from his enhanced strength. The surrounding people inside the car step to the side on instinct as he punches again, the crack deepening. Through the reflection in the windows, (Any lighting in the car had been replaced by phone lights, making it incredibly difficult to see inside), he spots one of XD’s arms launching at him. Wilbur jumps, landing on the roof of the train car and wincing as he listens to glass break. 

“That car isn't for you to save, Spiderman,” XD says, coldly, his voice less casual and reminding him of their typical encounters. The arm launches for him again and Wilbur dashed out of the way, flicking a web across the building and dashing out of the way.

He darts out of the way for the third time, huffing out in impatience. “Oh, so you brought it up here for fun?” Wilbur asks, shooting a web at XD’s arm, effectively folding it against the villain’s back. 

He hisses out in victory, although the action is short lived because as he jumps from the railing, overtop of XD and going for another calculated web, the wind is knocked from his chest as he’s grabbed from the air and jerked to the side. Wilbur groans out in pain as he’s shoved to the concrete, which startles a shriek out of him. It’s then that he’s brought back to open air, dangling from the ground with an irritated scowl hidden underneath his mask. His shoulder stings from where it had slammed into the ground, but when he tries to soothe it with a rub, he finds his hands are pinned to his side. 

Wilbur glares at XD. 

“I’m going to put you down, and we’re going to talk.”

Wilbur knows obliging would be the best decision, leading him to tentatively nodding at the offer. As suggested, he’s lowered down, cautiously, the arm then retracting with a whir and laying on the ground beside XD’s form. 

“Have you ever heard of the trolley problem?” the villain asks, his real hands still in his pocket. Wilbur shrugs.

“In passing,” he says, “Why? I don't see anyone else hostage, do you know how the Trolley Problem works?” he muses, brows furrowing at XD’s response: something of a laugh. 

“You have two choices here, alright?” Suddenly, a screeching sound is scraping at his ears, two of XD’s arms wrapping the car and holding it up, right near the edge of the rooftop. ���Save a train car full of people,” the villain continues, then reaches into his pocket. Wilbur squints as the villain pulls something small from the depths of his hoodie and holds it up, a string with something on the end of it dangling in the air. 

His heart sinks. Tommy.

“Or a pest. Your pest.”

Wilbur’s mouth falls agape, his shoulders slump, and his hands tense. Play it off, Play it off. He still has the time to embarrass XD and make him believe he has the wrong guy. Surely XD doesn’t—actually know his identity.

“I don’t see anything,” Wilbur says, his voice rushed and quivering.

“It's—It’s on the end of the string, look—there's some pest at the end of it.” XD clarifies, a smudge of humor in his tone. 

Wilbur lets the clarification run dry and finds himself bitterly glaring at XD. The villain hums, shakes the string a little. As he does, Wilbur watches Tommy flail at the end of it. His heart pounds in his chest, twisting at the thought of the poor borrower caught up in his work. He tried hard to keep Tommy out of it—he never even hinted at it. The idea that Tommy dangles in the grasp of Wilbur’s enemy without any hope that someone could save him makes Wilbur want to puke. 

A scream from the people in the train car snaps him out of his thoughts, adjusting him to his very real situation that he needs to find a solution to. He can save Tommy from a lethal fall, or save a cluster of people from an equally deadly height.

“Which one, Spiderman?” XD persists. 

Suddenly his lax clothing and old mask doesn't seem so lazy anymore, and Wilbur finds himself staring at the carved out smile with disbelief. 

“Did you wake up and decide to do this?” Wilbur asks. He’s wasting time. The hero watches as Tommy is drawn a little higher, and the likelihood of death increases massively. Meanwhile, Wilbur just stands there.

“I was bored. Wanted to test my theories about you, turns out…I was right,” XD hums. Wilbur knows that XD is clawing at the inside for a chance to blurt his name out and rip the bandaid off. Something in Wilbur has to hand it to the villain, though, because even with an audience of news reporters and cops and civilians, he still has held off. 

Okay. This cannot be hard. (Albeit reluctantly), He’s Spiderman. Wilbur can always do both. 

“I’ll take the train,” Wilbur decides, “leave the 'pest’,” he lies, easily. The words are like poison to his tongue, but he’s found an obvious route to take. 

“Okay. Okay! Well, what's your heroic plan without a little entertainment?” XD comments, then releases the car immediately, his silver arms retracting and glistening under the rising sun. Wilbur yells out, running near the edge of the building to go after the train, although before he can get the momentum to jump off, he notices that XD has dropped the rope holding Tommy. 

His eyes widen at the realization, he screams out a rushed “Tommy!” and quickly, he flings a web in the vicinity of the borrower, hopefully latching onto him before taking to the railing, finding his footing before jumping off of the building. 

Calm and calculated, trying to ignore the blood rushing in his ears and the way his head screams about his inevitable failure, he instantly retracts the web holding (what he hopes to be) Tommy, then lifts his mask up in a panic, getting a good grip on the clump of web before shoving the flash of white into his mouth and pulls the mask back down over his mouth. His mouth shuts with a click that blurs his thoughts of a plan. 

Briefly, he recognizes movement within his maw, and with the reassurance, Wilbur finds the time to finally focus on the train car, which plummets, although nothing too worrying yet, especially as he now has the opportunity to advance downwards, the wind lapping all around him. He’s done this a thousand times. 

Something clicks against his teeth, hitting from the inside. The wind in his ears and the adrenaline completely flooding him makes it hard to focus on the fact that he had hit bullseye on Tommy, and even more is he distracted at the fact that the poor thing is scared out of his life, in the clasp of someone he doesn't know he trusts. Trapped in their mouth no less. He runs a worried tongue over the figure in his mouth to try and resolve the boy’s fear. It was half-assed but all he could muster as a thousand ideas for saving the car floods through his mind and thoroughly bury the memory of Tommy.

A web shoots from his wrist and flies through the wind, whistling against it before coming to a halt when the edge of the web reaches something solid, the edge of a building, just a temporary brace until he can build another. He flicks another web, and another, and another, and he feels the energy leaving his body as Wilbur constructs a base for the car to land in. It’s already caught on the first one he did, but the weight of the metal and the people inside has the web splitting. 

By the time he finishes the landing pad, it’s mere feet from the streets, housing the fallen train car. Meanwhile, now no longer distracted, his blurry mind has the ability to shoot one last web onto a balcony near the scene. Wilbur jerks as the web pulls taught, something in his head shifting to panic, but he ignores it while letting the web retract and guide him up onto the balcony, which he clambers onto and falls over in an instant, something of this morning’s fatigue, his mix of emotions, and the overuse of his silk making him a useless pile of black-and-yellow fabric. 

(*)

Tommy is screaming. He knows he’s screaming, even though the noise is barely audible over the lapping sound of the helicopters that circle the area, which had irritated him enough into covering his ears, he still is screaming. The disturbance of the helicopter had been enough to distract him, and as he zones back in as Spiderman had yelled out something incoherent, and then weirdly, his own name. 

It was then that he finally felt the rush of cold air against his body, and it was then that he registered that he was falling, concrete growing closer and closer and closer, and—his abrupt fate was cut off by an equally abrupt something clashing into him and expanding, surrounding his entire body and jerking him through the air. His stomach sinks at all the movement. He struggles against the sticky web that he’s caught in, memories of getting caught up in spider web as a borrower flashing through his memory. If not for the fact that this situation was nothing similar, and that this was quite literally life or death, he might’ve found comfort in finding some resemblance of his home life.

Wilbur. 

Oh, Wilbur's going to get home and think Tommy abandoned him! Oh, oh fuck—

Suddenly, there's another pull in his gut and he’s screaming even louder as he falls, plummets, zips through the air. It whistles around him, his ears throb, and his hands are shaking so much he can barely even wipe the tears off of his face without it being consistent with hitting himself. There’s a thick groan that murmurs from his mouth as, despite the layer of web between him, he’s tossed against someone’s hand, whiplash settling in nicely with his jittering soul.

He barely recognizes the black and yellow fabric all around him before he’s catching his gaze on a distantly familiar bottom profile of a face, one that, terrifyingly, opens up and draws Tommy close. 

“No, no, nonononononoNO—” Tommy yells, a mouth suddenly his only surroundings. The morning light illuminates the space around him, rows of human teeth entirely surrounding him, fleshy pink walls and the faint outline of the opening of a throat just mere inches from him. 

“Shit! Let me out, fuck—HELP ME!” Tommy pleads, screaming, he can't even help but try to be hopeful in a time like this. He can’t even wrap his head around the fact that he thinks he'll be curled up in Wilbur's hands tonight if he asks. What is he, four? 

Tommy sobs. Tears break through, finally the adrenaline of the situation coming to a screeching halt as soon as the mouth he’s in shuts tight, the the jarring view of the city overhead coming to a close with an echoing click that replays in his mind a thousandfold. Tommy sobs again, shaking, his struggling within the cage-like web intensifying. He has a higher chance of avoiding becoming food if he can stand up and fight. 

Finally, finally, his legs can move more than a few inches. His legs are free, and he tears his arms free, picking the excess pieces off of him, baring his teeth as he strains his arm just to get free. He can barely fend off an inanimate spiderweb, he can only imagine the idea of fighting off a prodding tongue that’ll inch him slowly to the back of the throat that’ll send him to his real death. 

He pulls at the silky material, which has been soaked slightly as the person's saliva fills the room. It's at the moist sensation under his fingertips that he realizes how suffocatingly damp it is. Tommy pats at the surface underneath him, cringing, almost gagging at the fact that he’s sitting atop a tongue. He’s…he’s going to die, he’s sitting on his deathbed. 

He can barely maneuver himself to stand up without fucking falling. Tommy jerks a little bit, almost falling into the person's teeth at the movement. 

Finally stumbling to a stand with a scowl on his face, he tries to feel around for something solid. He seems to reach teeth, because his pounding fists collide with something hard. He punches at them, sobbing, a sudden weakness in his form overtaking him. 

“Let me out! Please! I—I can't die, not right now! I—I just—” Tommy finds himself stuttering over his words. He doesn't know why he doesn't want to die. There shouldn't be a problem if he simply ceased to exist, though the idea still tormented him. 

If he were to die, it at least shouldn't be at the hand of something Tommy had spent most of his life avoiding, and certainly not by something he had foolishly begun growing to trust. 

The feeling of something wet seeps into his clothing, prodding at him—and so caught up in his cries he takes an embarrassingly long time to recognize that there’s a tongue placed by his shoulder. Tommy shrieks as he does realize, scrambling away from the muscle the best he could, (which wasn’t easy, considering the thing took up most of the mouth). 

He swallows down a gulp of vomit, cringing at the fact that he’s even existing right now. Tommy draws a hand to his face, fisting his tears away. It doesn't matter in the end, as by the time he gets his face dry it's ruined by another orbit of tears. He still shakes, his hands propped in his lap while he leans against the closed rows of teeth, awaiting his inevitable fate. 

Just as expected, the world jerks, heavy, heavier than before, and suddenly he’s almost downed in a pool of saliva as he’s drawn back, back, and, NO—he claws aimlessly at the tongue, his efforts run useless while he’s shot down the throat in an instant. His hands fail to cling onto purchase and he slides, easily, too easily. He can't flex his limbs enough to flail, and even if he did the struggle would go unmatched against the pool of acids he’s about to meet. 

He falls, he screams as he falls. His gut churns at the fact that he’s landed in someplace new, equally as dark as a mouth but painfully obviously not. 

It’s hollow, nothing like the tunnel he just traveled down. It’s warm and suffocating, however, and he feels as if he couldn't breathe. Probably because his nose is stuffy and breathing in through his mouth triggered another fit of sobs. 

Tommy stretches his arms to feel his surroundings, coughing, then immediately sobbing again upon the feeling of fleshy walls that contort around him, flexing slightly. He’s going to die. He’s going to puke—he is dead. He falls against the surface he’s surrounded by, attempting to draw his knees up, though they slip into the thin pool at the bottom of the chamber, his chamber. 

The warm liquid soaks his shoes, and in half a second, he’s convinced himself that it stings, and that he’s going to die within the next five minutes. 

If only Wilbur were here. He would know how to calm him down, even if he was dying. If he was on his last breath and Wilbur was there to reassure him, he’d believe him. Full-heartedly. 

Tommy punches at the fleshy walls, yelling, despite how much strain it puts on his already-sore throat. “Fuck,” he whines, sliding against the walls and sighing.

He has a plan for everything. Wilbur, as a joke, locked him in a jar once, then proceeded to accidentally forget about him, and he inched off the counter until he fell and broke the jar. He was all cut up but he was out. So, why isn't his brain catching up to date with recent events and getting him a plan? 

Tommy knows why, but he doesn't exactly want to admit it just yet. 

His surroundings jerk, throwing him to the other end of the area before the walls squish in on him, embracing him from all angles and making him wail at the fact. His face is pressed against the slick flesh, the pool of saliva and, (what he tells himself is) acid, he sobs again. Again again, his body aches as he shakes with somber origins, again he cries again, Prime, why won't he stop crying? 

(*)

By the time Wilbur regained feeling in his head and it was no longer a sludge of mixed emotions about what just happened and reassurance that he had Tommy, and by the time Wilbur had picked himself up from where he lay on the cold concrete of a balcony and webbed away, he realized there was nothing in his mouth. 

But, he completely remembers the web with Tommy in it being secure in the makeshift pocket while he did his work, so why wasn't it there anymore?

Wilbur lands in the crowd, wincing as he catches the attention of news broadcasters. He’s about to web away to avoid public attention when something in his gut hits him so gently that he pauses, and his eyes widen. Wilbur pauses, freezes, then shudders.

Tommy. 

He runs off, immediately, into an alleyway where he leans against the wall and places a disbelieving hand to his gut. “Wh—Tommy?” Wilbur whispers, careful as to not catch the attention of the nearby reporters.

There’s a response. It’s faint, he can’t hear it—shit. At the very least, he’s alive—hopefully for the time it takes to get him out.

Okay, just…focus. He’s focused before—he has to be focused to unstick. But he’s never swallowed anyone before! Wilbur closes his eyes and pulls his attention to the moving figure in his gut, squeezing in his stomach and pretending like he’s trying to puke, (which probably wasn’t the best idea considering he does feel like he’s two webs away from vomiting his guts out). 

The attempt is disturbed by flashing cameras, which startle him to a defensive position and make him forget about his focus. He groans, staring at the news reporters that have taken to crowding around him, cornering him in the alley. 

“I’m gonna be real with you guys, I think there’s a lot more interesting things to film than me,” Wilbur says, huffing out a dry laugh.

“Why did you wait until the last second to save them?” A reporter asks. I was saving someone else, Wilbur muses in his mind, once again reminded of Tommy.

“Seriously, leave, I’m done with this scene, you should be too,” Wilbur tries. 

The reporters only grow closer, photo after photo after photo—it overwhelms him, to say the least, especially with the fact that his gut is being absolutely attacked by Tommy. It takes a lot for him to not curl up against the brick wall behind him and murmur reassurances to him. Flashes and questions blur in his mind, and thankfully his energy has seemed to return and he has half the mind to toss two fingers over his palm. A web sprouts, spiraling up onto the building above so he can get away from the crowd of people. 

Landing on the concrete, he sprints behind a doorway and kneels there, just in time for a particularly revolting punch from the inside of his gut that leaves him clutching his gut and gagging as something travels upwards in his gullet—finally. He gags again and feels something thrash in his mouth. Tommy, no doubt.

Without adrenaline rushing through him and numbing his thoughts, he notices there’s a distinct taste in his mouth. It’s tangy and unpleasant, mixed with the taste of salt—undoubtedly tears. He winces at it, making a move for the edge of his mask. Before he could pull it up and beg the trust he just thoroughly undid, the laps of a fucking helicopter catch his attention. Immediately, his hands drop from his face and he scrambles up, flipping them off tediously before running to the edge of the roof and jumping off, landing on the neighboring one. 

Wilbur takes a sharp left, his webs wrapping around a street light. Gracefully, he lands on it, looking around the sky for the aircraft. It seems to have lost sight of him. 

Gently, with his tongue, he pushes Tommy to the side of his mouth and rushes out reassurances while he glides through the city and back to his apartment building.

“You’re okay—I’m so sorry, Tommy. You’re okay, I promise you’re okay,” he says, it’s half-mumbled but it, hopefully, has gotten the point across. 

The little “fuck you!” from within his mouth says otherwise.

Finally, for what has felt like hours when in reality barely half an hour has passed, he finds footing on his fire escape. The security of being home feeling like a boulder off his shoulders. He opens his window, climbing in and shutting it with ease. 

Immediately, Wilbur lifts his mask up and spits Tommy out. The boy quivers against his skin, shaking and murmuring curses with his strained voice. Wilbur’s heart twists, guilt coursing through him even more than the adrenaline had earlier. He did this to Tommy.

“Tommy,” Wilbur calls, his voice soft. His hands find themselves frozen, unable to comprehend how much of a trance Tommy has been put under. “Tommy, hey, king, come on, you’re safe,” Wilbur says, taking a distracted seat on the floor. “Are you

okay? Are you hurt?” Wilbur adds, pulling the tiny a little closer to inspect his shivering form. 

He’s not sure if Tommy actually recognizes that he’s not in Wilbur’s mouth, or even gut. 

“Get the fuck away from me—” Tommy breathes out, his voice shallow and dry. He coughs, shuddering with another sob. Wilbur frowns, deep, watching intently as the borrower collects himself in his cupped hands, shuffling to sit up and glare at Wilbur.

(*)

“I didn’t mean to swallow you, I promise—I just—” Spiderman says, his own lies running dry on his tongue. Why is his voice so familiar? “Just tell me

you’re not hurt, man—”

Tommy doesn't respond to Spiderman and instead takes a look around the space, realizing very quickly that the space is identical to Wilbur’s apartment.

He hiccups, coughing as phlegm gets caught in his throat. “Why are we at Wilbur’s house?”

Something in Spiderman’s face, from what he can see of it, shifts, something of confusion tugging at his lips. Then, in a blink, he’s shifted onto one hand and Spiderman pulls the mask off fully, revealing—

Oh.

Oh.

“Wilbur,” Tommy breathes out, coughing again. His heartbeat picks up at the fact that Wilbur, out of the whole city, sat behind the mask. “You fucking swallowed me,” Wilbur almost flinches at the words, “and you lied to me.”

“You know I wouldn’t hurt you, not intentionally.” Wilbur returns his hands to the cupped position, but Tommy doesn’t move. His eyes are glued on Wilbur. His hair, his worried eyes with tears swelling in them and fatigue lining them as dark bags, his frowning lips, and the black-and-yellow suit that clings onto his body.

“Fuck, Wilbur, you—I don’t even know—” Tommy says, groaning and leaning into Wilbur’s hold. It feels warm, similar to—-

“Are you mad at me?”

Tommy’s eyes widen as he scoffs. “What the fuck?! Of course—-of course I am, Wilbur! I thought I was going to die! I probably would’ve!”

Wilbur winces. Bastard.

“I’m sorry,” the man whispers.

Tommy looks at Wilbur strongly, and for some reason, the action alone is enough to make him sob again. He shudders, goosebumps trailing his spine. 

“No, no—Tommy, you’re okay, man!” Wilbur reassures—or he tries to, it doesn’t really work, because Tommy just ignores it. 

“I’m not!” he retaliates, sobbing into the human’s gloved hand.

“Toms, darling,” Wilbur tries gently, taking his thumb and oh-so-gently drawing it along Tommy’s tiny, red-and-puffy face, ridding of his tears in an instant. His heart hurts at the nickname and the show of affection. “You’re still alive, aren’t you?” 

“I almost wasn’t,” Tommy seethes out. “I would’ve died from that fucking villain you were fighting, you could’ve chewed me to death, and I probably was going to disintegrate when you swallowed me! Fuck you, Wil.”

Wilbur’s expression shifts. “You didn’t die, though, you’re very alive. And, I told you, Tommy, I never wanted to swallow you. It just happened. I must’ve startled too hard and did it.” Tommy scowls. He shifts, his damp feet sliding on the slick fabric of Wilbur’s suit. He almost forgot he was covered in saliva and acid.

“That doesn’t make up for the fact that you did it, instinctually, or whatever. Your brain wanted to eat me, just admit it!”

Wilbur stays quiet.

“Put me down,” Tommy then asks, now growing impatient after the warmth that Wilbur’s hand had provided has since run cold and proved nothing comforting. Wilbur, the bastard, looks so hesitant to his request it makes him shudder. “Wilbur, put me the fuck down,” he repeats, stronger, masking his (dwindling) panic. 

Begrudgingly, looking as if he regrets every moment, the human obliges and lowers the boy onto the floor, close to the bed where Tommy’s nearest nook is. “Thank you,” Tommy offers smally. He doesn’t know if he expected Wilbur to let his hesitance overtake him, but he finds that he’s grateful for the fact that he’s no longer engulfed by Wilbur’s hands and has found a place on the floor, already making a rushing move to the shadows of the bed. 

Though, as he walks, he feels his limbs are tired and ache. He doesn’t understand why they do, however—he had only cried, a mental problem, and he had kept his struggle to a minimum (in terms of how he usually flails), so why did he feel such a strong desire to collapse?

Tommy feels tears swell up in his eyes again, soul tugging at him to break down again. He winces at such fragile sensitivity and strays from his path, pulling off to lean against the leg of the bed. He sighs against it, holding back the floodgates of his tears while trying to ignore that Wilbur is still sat on the floor. He blinks away his tears. Tommy’s throat burns from earlier, also now housing the sobs he’s shoving back down his vocal box. He’s not crying again, no fucking way.

“Are you sure you want to be alone, Toms?” Wilbur asks, still soft as ever. It’s hard to be mad at the bastard when he’s been nothing but reassuring. But he almost died because of Wilbur, three separate times in barely an hour. How could he not be pissed? Then again, he had bargained with himself that Wilbur could be the only one to ever talk him out of the fear of death. Ironic, his mind muses.

“Not really,” he says, coughing a bit. He blinks away another circle of tears. It doesn’t work, and the irritating sting in Tommy’s eyes just pushes him far over the edge and he cries again, drawing his knees up and crossing his arms over them while he stares off into the shadows. He can’t hear much, but not in a concerning way, he’s just spaced out long enough for the only constant in his mind being his shallow cries.

Perhaps as he’d expected, he’s drawn back to reality with a nudge on his side. He grumbles, looking over to find Wilbur’s hand next to him, fingers folded into each other except for his forefinger, which pokes at his side again. From under the bed, most of the man’s face is obscured, but he can see Wilbur’s lips, which sport a fine smile, nothing amused, only genuine.

“Do you want to rest? I think you could benefit from a break from this shitty morning,” Wilbur offers, “we can finish talking later,” he then adds, which the thought of reliving today, even in memories, makes him shiver, but falling asleep on Wilbur had been his one wish when in—there. 

Hesitant, he shuffles up from where he sat. At his movement, Wilbur’s hand opens up and lays flat against the hardwood floor, moments from Tommy.

A part of him does wonder if it’s a ruse, but a lot of him doesn't have the energy to give a fuck. At least, not for right now.

He climbs onto the hand, his own hands bracing Wilbur's fingertips so he doesn't lose his balance, and he finds a seat on the crease in Wilbur’s fingers that connect them to his palm. 

“I'm still actually mad at you,” Tommy says as Wilbur draws him out of the shadows and back into the air. 

“That's okay, sunshine,” the man reassures. Once again, he takes his thumb, the gloves digit rubbing over Tommy’s face, tugging up to dry the last of his tears. The boy grumbles at the touch, but his disapproval only makes Wilbur stifle a laugh. 

“I thought we were resting, dick.”

Wilbur hums, shuffling up from the floor while keeping Tommy steady in his hand. He walks to the bed, sitting on the edge. “And you're sure you’re not hurt?”

Tommy sighs at Wilbur. “I'm not, if I was I would’ve told you, I still trust you. Kind of. Bitch.”

He has such a way with words.

Wilbur just hums, carefully drawing the boy up to his mouth. Tommy scrambles back, pressing further into the hands under him. The panic is short lived, especially as Wilbur only pecks a kiss on the top of his head. 

“Stop that,” Tommy demands. Wilbur draws him back, slightly. At the distance between them, Tommy stumbles to a stand and walks the length of Wilbur's palm and stands on the edge of it, arms outstretched to pull Wilbur’s nose closer to him. He hugs it, or, the best he could. 

“Awe, Tommy,” Wilbur says, his tone high in adoration. Tommy pinches Wilbur’s skin, causing the human to retaliate his hand and drag the borrower with it before situating himself in bed. Tommy snickers, slipping off Wilbur's hand and onto his chest. He frowns at the placement and walks, along the Spiderman suit and latching onto Wilbur’s chin, using all the (lacking) strength in his arms to pull himself up Wilbur's face, stumbling only slightly while readjusting. Wilbur stays still, he can spot the man’s eyes on him, but otherwise he remains  absolutely frozen until the borrower plops down by the older’s nose and gets extra comfortable.

Only because he knows Wilbur wouldn't be able to move him without waking him up, and the human wouldn't dare. 

—-—

taglist: @da3dm, @i-am-beckyu, @local-squishmallow, @skullsnbruises, @krazycat49, @munchkin1156, @nobodywritingao3, @a-xyz-s // taglist request

[2-sleepy-for-this]

Our little brother pt.1

Hey lovelies! So sorry for the long wait, I didn’t realize how busy my week would be, but I managed to finish the first part of my newest au!

I now realize how much I suck at writing little kids so I’m just gonna change Tommy’s age range to around 7-10 :’)

Without further ado here it is!

tw ~ dehumanization (calling a person ‘it’), squeezing, minor injury, fear of death, (technically) abandonment, unintentional fearplay

word count ~ 1.5k

Tommy couldn’t find them. His family is gone. They told him to stay, but they never came back. It’s been hours, his legs are tired and his body’s numb from the cold snowy air around him.

Large snowflakes fell around him while the ground became colder by the minute. It had to have been hours since they left him in the shadowed alleyway, telling him it wasn’t safe in the open. He had curled up in a crack on one of the brick buildings surrounding him and fell asleep with the help of his mum. By the time Tommy woke up, the sun had already set and his parents were missing.

All Tommy could do was stand in the open, calling out for them. Sure, they said to stay hidden till they got back, but they should’ve been back hours ago.

He could feel his tail shaking as he wrapped it around his leg, trying not to squeeze his leg and make it more numb than it was already. All he had to do was find his family and everything would be fine again, right?

A loud, miserable noise echoed through the alley, making Tommy jump before realizing that it had come from him. He tried calming down but he couldn’t and in an instant sobs tore their way up his throat. It wasn’t fair. Where were they? 

Tears fell freely from his eyes, only making his face colder from the wind blowing on his shivering body. Tommy tried to look around for the hundredth time, but he couldn’t see anything but blobs of light from the street lamp above. The tears blurred his vision until he couldn’t see his own hands in front of him.

All of a sudden, there was a loud slam and the ground started shaking harder than he was. Tommy could hear the thumping of something big getting louder, getting closer. He needed to move, hide, do anything, but he couldn’t. Tommy honestly didn’t know if he was frozen from fear or if the ice on the ground had finally frozen to his feet.

There was only one thing that could sound like that, a beast his parents told him about so many times. Earlier today he would have told you there was no such thing, but after he heard it the first time, thudding louder than his mum's panicked voice, he knew it was real.

That thudding was what stole his family away. Everything was okay until it started and everything was gone when it thudded away.

His legs felt like they would drop him any second, and he still couldn’t move an inch. 

Tommy wanted to close his eyes. Maybe if he couldn’t see it, then it wouldn’t see him? Still, he kept his sight sharp. If he let his guard down, who knew what would happen?

His head whipped around, eyes focused on a giant hand that grabbed the corner of the wall. He trembled harder. As if in slow motion, Tommy could see a huge head move out from behind the building's wall, its giant eyes scanning for something, scanning for him. It’s weirdly pink long hair moved with the cold wind. Maybe if he wasn’t about to die he would think it’s pretty.

Tommy could see the moment its eyes snapped to him.

Its large mouth opened slightly before it went back behind the building, leaving Tommy alone. This didn’t last long though. A few seconds later the pink-haired human came back, but this time it brought another one.

The new one stared at him and even though it wasn’t as intimidating as the first human, its gaze was still terrifying to be under.

Everything was silent and still except for Tommy’s rapid shaking, more from the fear than the cold now. 

Then the worst thing happened.

Tommy sneezed.

Time started again all at once. In a single moment, the gigantic brown haired beast stepped into the alleyway and began moving towards him.

Tommy tried to show off his sharp teeth and claws but it did nothing to slow it down.

The huge monster just came closer. His threat displays weren’t working. Tommy tried backing up, but his tail got in the way and he fell onto his back, but he didn’t waste a second and kept skittering across the concrete floor. The giant didn’t seem fazed as it kept walking towards him with its too big feet, staring at him with its too big eyes, talking at him in its too big voice. Tommy’s brain couldn’t think about anything, it was all too much. He couldn’t focus. Tommy didn’t see the giant's too big hand reaching out until it was too late.

For the first time in a while Tommy felt warmth as giant fingers wrapped around his small form. He fought the urge to lean into the touch. This was a beast. It’s gonna hurt him. He needs to fight. 

He tried kicking his legs and thrashing, but nothing was working, his body was trapped completely. So he did the only other thing he could think of. Tommy put his head down and bit the skin surrounding him as hard as he could.

All at once, his surroundings jolted and squeezed in on him more, leaving him without any air. He tried to scream but all he could manage was a small pained wheeze.

The giant above him yelled out in pain, but Tommy couldn’t cover his ears from the agonizingly loud noise. The other giant seemed shocked and moved closer to Tommy fast, grabbing him.

All Tommy accomplished while fighting with all of his strength was moving from one pair of hands to the next. It was hopeless. The giants were probably angry at him now, they’ll definitely hurt him bad.

The new grip Tommy was in was firmer, it wasn’t suffocating but he knew the giant could squeeze him even tighter than the other one. He stopped moving completely at the silent threat. 

The brown-haired giant was still being a baby about his bite. Good. At least he could hurt them enough to not seem so helpless. 

The brown-haired giant glared at him while holding his thumb, Tommy shrunk back at the gaze. Tommy thought this had to be it for him, he pushed his luck, but then the gaze softened. It tried to speak to him again, but Tommy still couldn’t understand a word. The pounding of his heart still occupied his ears. 

After what felt like ages, the two giants started moving, walking across the alleyway that would take Tommy hours to cross in seconds. They walked up to a giant door before pausing.

Inside the building, Tommy could hear more loud voices. Were they gonna show him to a whole bunch of humans? Were they gonna fight over who gets to keep him? It didn’t matter. Tommy wouldn’t be able to stop them if they did.

Suddenly the hand he was in started moving, his vision went dark as he was stuffed into the pocket of the giants hoodie. He saw the light outside briefly before both of the giant's hands blocked the two holes of the pocket, caging him in.

Without the fingers holding him in place, Tommy tried finding a hole or anything he could use the get away without going near those giant hands again. Tommy gave up after a few minutes of searching, not finding anything. 

He could feel the pocket sway as the giant began to walk again. Tommy was stuck and couldn’t do anything about it, so when he heard an even louder new voice and felt the vibrations of the giant speaking, he began to listen.

“Hey Techno! Wilbur! Are you both still going to dream’s place after exams are over? I heard the party’s gonna be awesome.”

“Yeah, spending the night after draining tests cramped in a room with a bunch of loud drunk college students sounds great, Quackity. "

Quackity stared unamused at Techno before looking at Wilbur.

“What about you wil? I bet you’ll be there right?”

“I’ll think about it. Oh and tell dream I said hi.”

The two started towards the elevator, pressing the button to go up. 

Tommy was left confused. Why didn’t the giants give him away to the other one? Maybe they wanted him all for themselves? Yeah, that had to be it.

The hands near him twitched as the giants walked into the small box in the wall and the whole thing started moving up. Tommy felt nauseous by the time the floor stopped moving and the doors opened again.

The humans walked to another door before pulling out a key to open it. Seriously, how many doors do humans need? 

Stepping inside and locking the door behind them, Tommy heard and felt the giant around him let out a sigh.

The hands started moving around him again, grabbing him and blinding Tommy with the lights in the new room. When his vision cleared, Tommy could see the two pairs of eyes on him once again. 

He tried squirming briefly before the pink-haired giant spoke.

“So, what do we do with it now?”

Tommy paled, freezing in place, waiting for the answer.

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

And there you go! Hope you enjoyed reading, I’ll try to get the next part out asap

eat a snack, drink some water and get good rest! :)

[ingo4you]

STARTING THE LIGHT |ch.3

Tw: soft, Description of corpses/Vomiting.....i Guess thats all.

,,I brought you here" He said excitedly. What does he really want from me?

,,why?" There was a hint of fear in my voice.

,,It's simple, I'm lonely and you're lonely too, so why not be friends? So neither of us will be alone!"

Rusty wheels turned in my mind before finally clicking into place.

,,how old Are you.....?"

,,im 12! And im a big man that fears nothing!" In his speech, he unconsciously brought me closer to his mouth. Those teeth. Those sharp teeth that could easily crush me. Tommy was still babbling, but I didn't notice, I was just focused on his teeth. So sharp.

,,you good big man?, You don't smell very well. oh! that reminds me I still have to fix your leg"

Tommy pulled me closer to his chest now, crawling deeper into temple.

Wait.......how? He. can smell? Feeling??? My head didn't mind, So i let it go. I can deal with this when I'm safe.

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

That human didn't sound too happy, I messed it all up again. I slowly crawled towards my nest with the human in my hands. I knew where to go, I've lived here for as long as I can remember. And I also follow the smell. I don't need to see when I can smell. I dont know how to describe it.

I put the human on the "table" and started looking for some old bandages.

,,So? We'll be friends......?" I asked hesitantly.

Wilbur was quiet. A golden snake emerged from Tommy's hair and looked in Wilbur's direction, and he hissed something. Tommy listened to him. He said the human/Wilbur was trying to escape. The snakes were also like eyes for Tommy. He couldn't see through, but they always told him what was going on or what something looked like, but not otherwise.

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

After Tommy turned around, Wilbur carefully got up and tried to run away. He reached the edge of the flat stone on which Tommy laid him. Shit. It was too high. Suddenly he hears a hiss. He turns that way and there's that golden snake hanging from Tommy's hair. He had the same color as Tommy's hair.

Tommy suddenly turned in Wilbur's direction. Shit.

,,where are you going? I thought you'd stay a while, a-at least until I fix your leg"

The snake has already disappeared. It was just me and Tommy. He sounded disappointed, and he looked it too. His ears were drooping and his shoulders slumped, he was holding some bandages in his hands.

As I was looking at him like that, I didn't notice the tail that was behind me. Out of nowhere, something spun around me and squeezed.

,,Stay"

He placed me back in front of him with the end of his tail. I still had the end of his tail wrapped around my waist. I shed a tear again. There were more of them. I couldn't hold it in any longer and burst into tears

,,p-please, just let me go o-or kill me already, please, s-stop playing with me like that"

,,what-? W-wait! Like I said, I don't want to hurt you, I just wanted a friend"

,,So you'll keep me as a pet?!"

,,no i dont! I promise!" Tommy wanted to cry, he hated being yelled at.

,,So leave alone please! I-i want to go back to my family!"

Tommy didn't answer, his mouth twisted and he began to whimper. He squeezed his tail a little harder around Wilbur. Wilbur felt a little bad, he was a child after all.

,,Tommy?"

Tommy wiped his tears over his handkerchief and adjusted his ears. He seemed to be listening, so Wilbur started.

,,Tommy im sorry i yelled at you but you have to understand that I can't stay here, I have a family who are probably worried about me now because I disappeared, so please let me go"

Tommy kept whining.

,,um- T-Tommy? can you put your head on the table?"

Tommy nods and rests his head on the table. Very reluctantly but determinedly, Wilbur steps closer. He doesn't go directly to his face but to his head. He leans against his head into a hug. Tommy's hair is so soft and fluffy. Wilbur would never want to interrupt this moment. Tommy's hand rests on Wilbur's back. Wilbur doesn't even notice as he is caught up in such a beautiful moment. His hair even smells nice. Like strawberries and vanilla yogurt.

______________________________________________________________

"Phil.....? Phil!" The sudden panic in his son's voice woke Phil up. "U-uhgh what's going on?"

"Wilbur's gone!" Phil finally fully woke up, he didn't understand what was going on. “W-what do you mean gone?!”

he looked around the camp but he didn't see his other son anywhere, Techno was right wilbur was gone.

"Where could he have gone? Do you think he went ahead?" Phil asked even though he knew it was stupid, Wilbur wouldn't just go anywhere by himself, especially not when they were on a trip together.

"No, I do not think so" Techno looked at the map.

"There's a temple or something nearby, maybe Wilbur went there if someone didn't kidnap him" He packed the last things, turned to Phil and waited for him to leave.

"What?! Techno stop saying such nonsense, who would kidnap him? And um- maybe he really did go to that temple..........Okay let's go" He said walking towards Techno.

After about half an hour they arrived in front of the temple. The temple was huge. The doors of it were gigantic, the whole temple looked gothic. Techno melted over the beauty, you don't see a temple like this often. It was unique. Meanwhile, Phil shuffled from place to place, wondering what could have happened to Wilbur.

"So let's go inside" Techno moved closer to the entrance, Phil went too, albeit a little more cautiously. something didn't seem right to him here.

They walked down the long corridor for about a few minutes. Phil noticed something on the ground. It was dark but you could still see quite a bit. They should have taken torches.

"Is that Wilbur's backpack.....?"

"yeah, looks like he was there"

"yeah"

We continued down the corridor. The waning sun shone on our way through the broken ceiling. But the light was slowly fading. I think the temple is partly set in the rock.

"Can you hear that too?" Techno stopped and listened.

"hear what?" I listened too. I didn't hear anything for a while but then I did. It was some shuffling. It wasn't footsteps, it sounded more like something sliding across the ground.

"What do you think it is?" I whispered.

"I don't know and I don't want to find out, we're going there" Techno whispered and quietly made his way to one of the side corridors. It was closer. The sound was getting closer. I think it already know about us.

It was darker. I ran into something. It was Techno.

"sorry mate, but....why you stop?" I whispered.

Techno just turned to me and covered my mouth with his hand. And with his other hand he signaled for me to be quiet.

I nodded and waited. There were sounds in front of us. It sounded like tearing fabric.....or flesh.

I'm afraid what happened to Wilbur. The sounds stopped, and now the footsteps were different from the previous ones. These were already 100% steps. Fortunately, the sounds were receding. After the noises stopped, we waited for a while and then went to the front part of the corridor. We appeared in a small, circular and rather devastated room. A strong stench of the unwelcome hit our noses. I looked to the left of the entrance, and there he saw two corpses rolling in their own blood. One had her stomach ripped open and all her entrails gone, the other had her head crushed And the arms and legs broken in an unnatural shape, the entrails were also gone. I almost threw up, Techno was probably the same, but when I turned to look away on the other side there was more of them. They were all variously deformed and inhumanly mutilated. I couldn't take it and threw up. We hadn't eaten anything the night before, so the stomach acid was burning in my esophagus. It hurt like hell.

Techno supported me and we both left the room. We walked slowly through another corridor, there was more light here than in the previous ones, we are probably in the front part again. Techno sat me down with one pillar on the other side, and took water and a piece of bread from his backpack and offered them to me. I accepted and ate. I probably forgot to mention but.....those "hallways" were actually rooms....I guess...it was that huge.

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

Have a cookies :3 🍪🍪🍪🍪🍪🍪

Tag list: @andy3110

[kitty-fighter]

[Seeing snippets of Dream's New video-]

I swear Dream's discovered the g/t community somehow and is just littering the ground with crumbs for us all to snatch up-

[hereforthenoms]

i guess to engage more i should probably start reblogging lol

Just out of Reach, but Never out of sight

HIIIIIII! I DID IT! I HAVE WRITTEN AN AU :000 Okay okay okay! This is gonna be my first ever multi chapter story so fingers crossed I actually keep up with this but I really hope you guys love it as much as I do! Thank you to @a-xyz-s for proof reading <3

Chapter 1

cw: abandonment (its touched on but nothing major I think), general fear, panic and anxiety (ya know standard terrified borrower), fear of death, word count: 2611

Keep reading

[cyncerity]

forgot to post my new banner, so here in case anyone wants it:

[sheena-yuet]

Recently, I can’t stop reading stories about g!wilbur and t!tommy. I just obsessed with their chemistry ahaha uwu

Like the big bro energy, should protect smol bro-!

Just two boiz enjoying their moments <3

[crystalsblogcorner]

Decided to draw Roveger ranboo from Dice’s by nature AU, I tried to stick with the overall anatomy but it didn’t turn out as planned, but I hope you all still like it! And if you haven’t read Dices by nature au, you rlly should because it has a great plot and storyline ad it’s really well written. I’m head to bed now GN!

By Nature AU: by x-Pair-O-Dice-x

[astraymetronome]

I know this is a really overdue post! Sorry it's taken so long but here is the next chapter of the Trapped Dream AU! I've been pretty busy with college and work but I'm gonna try to get these chapters out more often.

Warnings: Vore, Vomiting, Self-Harm mention, Panic Attacks, Mentioned fatal vore

Chapter 1 | Chapter 3

Tommy had expected more of a reaction from his older brother other than well... Laughter. Techno burst into loud and boisterous laughter when those words passed his lips, it confused him but he understood his brother’s point of view. It probably sounded crazy, one of the best fighters being beaten by some teenager. 

The piglin hybrid was still laughing, leaning over the counter in the kitchen as Tommy anxiously hugged his abdomen. He felt nervous as his brother began to calm down, the avian watching as he caught his breath before speaking up. 

“I need you to be serious with me Tommy.” His brother said simply, the humor still riding his voice as he spoke. The blonde could feel his nerves getting the better of him, he didn’t like being brushed off like some child. He was old enough to be treated and respected the same way anyone else would be. He gave a small glare as he spoke up.

“I am being serious, I ate Dream.” He said sternly. The avian’s wings opened behind him, the feathers flaring as he glared at the man. He knew Techno wasn’t trying to be mean. He knew full well it just didn’t sound like something real, but it was real! He had the bastard green teletubbie sitting in his body where he wouldn’t get out unless he let him out. Tommy watched as Techno’s face shifted through his emotions, a mix of uncertainty and astonishment. 

“Okay, Okay,” Techno mumbled, it was pretty obvious his brother didn’t understand it or really believe him. The blonde knew the piglin didn’t want to know if this was true but he didn’t know how to prove this, if he coughed Dream up he’d either have him taken away, released, or maybe killed. None of them seemed like good options, he couldn’t bring himself to kill him. Dream may be his enemy and his killer, but he still couldn’t fully get himself out of the mindset from those years in exile. 

He recognized the bad situation and how tragic it was to be trapped in such a shitty way of living but he couldn’t bring himself to treat the ram hybrid with any form of remorse. Tommy had been so stuck in his own brain that he only blinked back at the situation when the mug of hot chocolate was pushed up. “Drink up little bird, you need to warm up,” Techno told him with a huff.

Tommy reluctantly sipped at the mug of liquid, he blinked a little bit at the lack of any real flavor as he swallowed a mouthful of what was probably just pure milk.  The blonde blinked for a moment once he swallowed the liquid before panic swelled in his chest. He pushed the cup into his brother’s hands feeling the swell of magic under his skin fade within seconds. “The fuck!” He yelled, looking up at his brother as the piglin spoke. 

“You were acting weird and with pot particles around you-” The man started before Tommy growled, his wings flaring behind him as he glared. He looked a lot like Phil when he flared his feathers, the main difference being their size and wings. He glared, angry as he leaned over the kitchen sink, feeling as Dream began to return kicking up a fuss in his stomach. The teen gaged himself, his older brother quickly trying to stop him as he did this. 

Tommy folded his wings close and chirped angrily before he felt his stomach clench and force a wiggling form up and out of his body. He coughed, a familiar man slipping out of his mouth and into the basin below. He was uncomfortable, trembling slightly as he wiped the mix of saliva and milk off his lip with his sleeve, the uncomfortable tingle of acid burning the back of his throat as he gave a thick swallow. The avian swirled himself around, his finger immediately being pushed against the other man’s chest. 

“You just fucking assumed I was lying!? You could have killed him!” He squawked out. Tommy was mad that Techno had believed he’d lie so much he seemed eager to prove himself right. 

The piglin had quickly put his hands up, a defensive and passive motion to fain innocence. “Heh-” The man started before he stopped and spoke up. “I didn’t know if I believed you! You were talking kind of crazy and had particles, I assumed a potion had a bad effect on your head, Runt.” Tommy found himself growling as he looked at his big brother with a mix of anger and frustration. He understood his brother while also being mad that he’d not believed him. 

“But shit… You actually ate him.” Techno mumbled, taking Tommy’s attention back to the small man. The avian’s eyes drifted, zeroing in on the small form that sat inside the sink. His eyes drifted over his body, taking in the slight red spots of irritation on Dream’s neck and around his ankles. The ram hybrid had started to itch at his skin, clearly unhappy with the situation. He avian glared right back, not scared to meet the blonde man’s gaze as he was spoken to. 

“You’re so fucking stupid, Tommy! You seriously thought eating me was the best way to trap me! How ignorant are you!” Tommy rolled his eyes as he listened to Dream ramble on about how horrible and stupid he was. He glared before moving his hand and turning on the faucet. He held back a giggle as his tormenter sputtered, the man looking like a drowned rat. His pointed ears twitched at the loud laughter behind him, turning over to see Techno kneeling over as his chest racked with chuckles. He couldn’t help the smile that pricked his lips, 

He missed hearing his big brother’s laughter as his wings fluffed up a little. Tommy could feel his flock instincts swelling, wanting to chirp and trill at seeing his flockmate so delighted at something he’d done. He was pleased but he quickly forced the sensation down as he spoke up. “Shut up, you’re lucky I even let you out.” He said sternly. 

He saw the slight look of panic in the man's eyes and the avian was guessing that he wasn’t fond of the sensation of acids against his skin. He felt a sense of control wash over his mind, it was intoxicating but he was swift to shove it away. “Tommy, how long have you… been in this predicament?” Techno asked. He looked over at his older brother, blinking in a bit of surprise. He’d kept Dream for probably just a day… It’s only just a day but it’s felt like he’s been doing this for a week. He ran his hands through his hair. 

“It’s been most of today? But I um… I’ve only had him in for probably about two hours.” He said softly, he felt uncomfortable but he’d been the one to get into this situation and the one to bring it up. He looked up at his older brother, taking note of how the piglin stepped towards the sink. He watched as Techno began to push Tommy away from the sink. 

“I’ll handle this, go drink some water and take a hot shower. You need to warm up little bird. Phil will kill me if he comes back to find you with a cold.” The blonde felt his heart sink at the idea of leaving Dream alone. He didn’t want to risk having the ram hybrid escape! He finally had Dream somewhere he couldn’t escape from and he wasn’t gonna risk letting him hurt others. 

“You can’t let him leave. He’d been threatening Micheal! He’ll hurt him or worse… try to turn him into some reliant puppy..” Tommy found his words hesitantly, it felt too close to home as he held back a shutter of discomfort. He still remembered being treated like some kind of pet back in exile. He refused to be the reason someone else had to feel that way. 

He looked at his big brother, knowing his blue eyes were bleeding with a silent plea. The avian could only hope the piglin would recognize how desperate he seemed. He didn’t like to talk about exile, not even bringing it up to Puffy back in his therapy sessions. He knew she’d had some idea of the things he’d experienced but he hated getting into the thick of the trauma. “I promise I'll keep an eye on him.” 

Tommy nodded at the words, knowing Techno wasn’t someone who liked to lie over something so trivial. He walked towards the stairs, heading up them without another say. He was careful, stumbling into the bathroom. He let his eyes drift down to his wrist, his bandana had slipped free at some point. He’d paniced at the lack of the deep green fabric but the sight of his bare wrist was the cause of his stomach to churn again. He gaged, throwing up this time but not of his fruition. 

He was panting as he leaned over the toilet, finally noticing how his body shook and he felt so much panic in his chest. He got to his feet, nervously as he covered his right wrist with his hand. He was quick to turn on the sink, washing out his mouth of bile before turning on the shower.

He needed a distraction.

▪────  ⚔  ────▪

Techno had noticed Tommy’s building panic the entire time they’d been talking. The truth was, he had believed the avian from the start but he knew that right now playing the role of an ignorant observer was the safest situation. He let his eyes drift from the stairs and instead focused on the small man who was sitting in the basin. He held back a growl as he reached over and picked his rival up by the scruff of his green hoodie. His eyes kept flashing back to the marks that littered Tommy’s wrist but mostly the very obvious scar that had been branded into the location of sensitive tendons. 

Tommy’s sword skills had been rougher since his exile. The man had assumed it had been due to the lack of practice in the five-year period but that made more sense. He had recognized the shapes, they were identical to the mask that was currently attached to the small man’s waist. 

“We’re gonna have a long talk.”

⊹ ˖ 𓍊𓋼𓍊𓋼𓍊⊹₊⋆

Thank You guys for reading! @cyncerity

[melissart-s]

A spooky art I did for my fic: Broken bond! Go check it out on AO3!

[brick-a-doodle-do]

Story idea! Which will contain tiny!tubbo tiny!baby michael and giant!ranboo

Tubbo lives alone in the tundra lands of snowchester with his son Michael, tubbo is known for studying and hunting mythical creatures, but after a harsh snowstorm and lack of food he ventures out one night and ends up meeting one of the mythical creatures he has been desperately searching for.

Noms are up to you, btw

yay no more creative slump! thanks anon :D

i kinda switched this around s little bit but i think it's still alright? i mean i didn't read it but eh

(bonus points if you know what the title's from! :3)

agony drips from me, poisonous remedy

wc: 2519

cw: sfw vore (unwilling prey + miscommunication/no communication), panic

—–—

Call him an idiot, call him insane, call his work useless, but he prefers ‘over it’. Because in the depths of all of his pinned up papers, half-finished sketches littering the floors and a thousand theories blurring his head, he has a son, who’s obvious struggles haven't gone unnoticed from Tubbo, and he is over his weird hobby.

He does try, he keeps up with Micheal’s schedule, making sure he’s clean and well-fed and gets to sleep on time, (Although he can't be positive on that because unless his frenzy has kicked up hallucinations, he’s fairly positive he’s heard Micheal’s muffled snorts from just outside his office.)

Tubbo knew about that. He knew his son was distressed and isolated and tired and curious, yet he still persisted with the thing he couldn't even call work, it was just a hobby he clung onto desperately like it was pumping air into his lungs.

So, the recent storm was rather eye-opening. At the first crack of thunder and blast of lighting, Tubbo found it mildly distracting, while Micheal’s panicked squeals had traveled through the mansion and right to Tubbo's office, where the boy then threw himself at his father, burying his face into Tubbo’s chest with panicked breath. Tubbo had jumped at the contact and shuffled his papers around before scooting back to tend to his son. 

“Hey, hey, it’s just a storm, the thunder can’t hurt us,” Tubbo reassures, rubbing circles into the kid’s back. Micheal squeals as another clap of thunder echoes from the sky and rattles the windows of the office. Micheal’s grip on Tubbo’s vest tightens and he has to suppress the urge to wince under the pressure of his forming claws. “It's just passing over us,” Tubbo says, although he can't be sure about that, the weather has been showing signs of storms all week.

Another flash of lightning leaves Tubbo jumping at the way the windows light up at the streak, just a mile too close for his word to stay true. Presumably having felt Tubbo’s jolt of fear, Micheal sobs a little, still huddling close to his father for comfort. Tubbo sighs, tearing his wary attention away from the window and turning to focus on his papers, bullet points about a deity blurring together even more than usual at his worry. He moves his attention from his work and focuses on his son, still shaking with sobs. A wet spot has formed on his jumper from the kid’s tears, meanwhile Tubbo is stunned at what to say. He’s never been the most emotionally available, or if he was he wasted it all on useless attempts at humor to try and calm down Tommy. 

This was his son, and this was not a laughing matter. He stands, his chair sliding back along the wooden floor with a wince-inducing scrape, to which he ignores and focuses on supporting his son. “We haven't had thunder for a while, so, you know what that means?” Tubbo asks, using old techniques Schlatt had used when Tubbo wouldn't be quiet. 

“What?” Micheal asks, smally, voice broken from his tears. 

Another clap of thunder. Micheal gasps softly at the sound. 

“When there's a clap of thunder, you count the seconds between it, and that's how many miles away it is,” Tubbo informs him, still rubbing along his back as he navigates through the mansion.

The hybrid pulls away from his chest, still secure in Tubbo’s grasp but now facing him eye-to-eye, looking a little suspicious of Tubbo's claim. “Not true?” Micheal inquires. Tubbo cracks a smile and shakes his head.

“It's true! Listen, let's wait for the next one,” he says, heading down the grand staircase to find their way to the family room. 

Micheal’s eyes avert his gaze and instead move beyond him to watch the windows, spirit enlightened. Tubbo finds the lift in demeanor satisfying, though without a problem to worry about he finds his mind traveling back to the creature studies sat in his office. Supposedly considered deity amongst the End and the Nether, and the very last creature he has in an old book of monsters he found as a kid. 

He’s never been so riled up over finding something, but Ranboo proved so important that Tubbo would forget his own son in their time of panic. 

Tubbo plops on the couch, Micheal falling with him, just in time for another clap of thunder. “Alright! One, two, three—” Tubbo is cut off as Micheal takes over.

“Four, five—” Boom! The windows rattle and a few pieces of lopsided furniture shudder. That’s odd. It hadn't been so close before…boom!

Micheal squeals. That was loud. 

“Hey, hey, bossman, you're alright! It's just thunder,” Tubbo says, holding his boy tight while keeping his eyes glued to the pitch-black windows. 

“Too close!” Micheal squeals out, his hybrid coming out in a fit of snorts and whines that make Tubbo’s heart ache. Why did he tell him about the distance method? 

He considers calling Phil, but he doubts his communicator will work in this storm. The loud rush of rain hitting the window becomes apparent to him the more it picks up, rapidly thumping on the glass panes. Micheal’s crying again, his body quivering with every hiccup. 

“Hey, baby, you're okay,” Tubbo whispers. He can't handle this. Boom! “Bud, how about a special trip to old man Phil? I bet he and Technoblade can help, huh?” He asks, bouncing the hybrid on his knee. All that Michael responds with is a childish sob. 

His heart twists. Tubbo pulls him close, picking the kid up. He can make it to Phil and Technoblade's cabin, and then he can just…pick up where he left off with his work. You know, unless he dies. 

Tubbo’s footsteps softly echo around the high ceilings, just barely audible against Micheal’s crying. “We’re going to go out to uncle Technoblade and old man Phil’s cabin, alright Micheal? They’ll know what to do,” Tubbo informs, sliding into his shoes and setting the kid down by the door. “Which coat do you want, bossman?”

Micheal hiccups, staring up at Tubbo with confusion in his eyes. For the most part, it goes unnoticed  while he opens up the chest of their jackets and shoes. 

“I don't want to be in storm,” Micheal says, frowning. Tubbo pulls a coat from the chest and pulls it around himself, grabbing another one for extra good measure. He zips the two up then crouches down to eye level with the piglin.

“I know, I know. We just need to get somewhere a little safer, okay? Their houses are more prepared for this,” he lies, knowing full well that while he knows the storm is coming closer, he really was orchestrating this so he could just get some quiet work time, no matter how bad he felt about it. 

Micheal, at the very least, seems to buy it. “Okay…I want red, Techno color!” the piglin says, squealing in delight at his own mention of Technoblade. 

“Ah, what did I expect,” he chuckles, pulling out a red raincoat from the chest and carefully pulling Micheal’s arms through each sleeve, then buttoning it up gently. Micheal flaps his hand as Tubbo pats his chest to let him know he’s ready to go. Tubbo pulls out his wellies, a blue pair to take after Tommy, (Who he’s quite sure took after Ghostbur), then hands them to micheal to fit on. In the end, Tubbo is fighting down his overwhelming guilt of letting Micheal go for the storm. 

He's adorable, already abandoning fear because he looks like his uncles, (And his flaunting his excitement of the fact). Techno’s old raincoat almost pools at Micheal’s feet, the faded thing barely fitting yet somehow keeping Micheal in complete bliss.

“You look dapper,” Tubbo compliments, one last time reaching into the chest and grabbing out an umbrella before closing it. “Ready to go visit Philza, bossman?” 

Ultimately, Micheal looks a little uncomfortable at the thought of going out into the storm, although the thunder has been distant recently and Tubbo can tell Micheal has registered that.

“I think!” he responds, voice wavering before gaining confidence near the end. He smiles shallowly. 

With one arm, Tubbo lifts Micheal up into his hold again, the piglin snorting at the quick movement. He switches the umbrella to the hand holding Micheal and opens the front door, pulling at it until it finally opens with a pop!, leaving him stumbling at the sudden jerk. He keeps it open with his foot and steps out, shielded from the pouring rain under the thin awning. The door slams shut behind him, nearly causing him to drop the umbrella as Micheal jumps at the sound and digs his fingers into Tubbo’s already-sore sides. 

He huffs out his pain and slides open the umbrella, which clicks as it locks. Tubbo raises it above their heads and steps out into the storm. Immediately, the constant stream of rain against the material above their heads pounds in Tubbo’s ears, even as damaged as they are. 

Boom! 

Immediately, Tubbo hears Micheal whisper under his breath: “One, two, three four, five, six, seven, eight, nine, ten—” Boom! 

“Ten miles is pretty far,” Tubbo comments, trudging through the thin layer of snow that he’d just shoveled earlier today. It mixes into a sludge with the rain, crunching under his boots in a pleasing manner, something to distract him from his desire to study and his worry of making it through the path to Techno’s cabin. It also distracts him from the impending feeling like he’s being watched. 

He tries to convince himself that isn't true, for the most part, even though he does give in with a quick look around his surroundings. The only thing he’s ever met with is the comfort of being alone with just him and his boy. 

Wind laps around them, the thunder and lightning seemingly having passed already, the only applicable features of the storm remaining being the strong rain and the surprisingly aggressive winds. He can barely see anything, let alone hear anything outside of the wind in his ears, Micheal’s hushed shivers and whimpers, and the rain on the umbrella. All the mobs have taken a rest for the night, thankfully, but it only leaves him in suspense. 

Who had eyes on him if not a zombie or a creeper? 

Who was watching him from above, threatening the security of him and his son?

About halfway through the forest to Techno’s cabin, he pauses at the sound of something shuffling. Micheal hums at the motion, his attention also caught on the noise. Perhaps he would've passed it off as a victim of the storm, but it seemed too orchestrated, like something running into a bush. He tries putting it behind him, whispering a reassurance to both himself and the boy. 

Tubbo makes it two steps before there's another rustle. Now, he stops. Full-fledged freezes, subconsciously holding Micheal a little closer. His grip on the umbrella handle tightens until his knuckles run pale while he spins around against the wind to look around. 

The hue of something red and green catches his eye. Too large to be anyone's communicator or any of the server’s eyes. Too vibrant for a coat or anything of the sorts, too colorful for an animal, no, this was the watchful gaze of Ranboo.

It fit the description of their eyes, the giant creature often hunched low to the forest floor, said to be a nod to their connection with the Nether. 

Tubbo can’t help the excitement that flares up against the fear. Ranboo was feet from him. He has been searching for so long—he finally can care about his son the way he needed to. 

“Papa?” Micheal inquires, presumably noticing the way Tubbo has stopped in his tracks again. 

Tubbo shushes the piglin. “Hold on for a second, bud,” he says, hiking up the kid before he slips out of his hold. Micheal seems to relax, resting his head on Tubbo’s shoulder while he waits. 

Meanwhile, Tubbo stands, staring at the vibrant eyes in the foliage ahead.  

“Ranboo,” he whispers. The eyes lift up a bit, like the mention of their name intrigued them. Tubbo’s spirit lightens immensely. 

A crack of lightning charges through the sky, lighting it up enough for him to make out a rough outline of the crouching monster. “Woah..yeah, that's you, Ranboo!” He says slowly, more of a reassurance to himself than anything. 

“You're Ranboo, right?” Tubbo calls out to the forest. The eyes disappear for a moment before reappearing as the creature blinks. 

There's a small vwoop! that echoes through the forest. Micheal perks up at that, turning his head in the direction of Ranboo. Against his fingertips, even through the raincoat, Tubbo's feels as Micheal tenses up. 

“What's that?!” the kid demands, fear inflicted in his voice. His pink fur has risen at the fear he emits.

“It's nothing to be afraid of, just an important thing I've been looking for,” he informs the kid. Micheal doesn't seem to relax. 

Ranvoo releases another vwoop! which is shadowed with a glk! that echoes from their throat. 

Suddenly, a thick tail with a furry, split-colored tuft is extending from the forest and into the clearing, rising high above them before, strangely prehensile as it curls around Micheal’s small form, somehow breaking the boy's contact with Tubbo. Micheal squeals at it, crying out for his dad. Before he has the time to react, Micheal is plucked from his grasp and swept up in Ranboo's tail, becoming a speck of pink amongst a sea of black and white. 

“Hey! What the fuck?!” Tubbo yells, immediately dropping the umbrella to run after the retracting tail. The rain pours into him immediately, wind rushing in his ears and pushing him as he trails after Micheal quickly. He stumbles over his feet, ankles rolling at his attempts to stay sturdy in snow. 

Tubbo can just barely hear Micheal’s panicked squeals and snorts while re-entering the forest, quickly behind the tail as he runs uselessly towards his son. “Ran-Ranboo! Sir–um, oh my god, surely you doing need to do that!” Tubbo calls up, watching from the shadows as Micheal is lifted effortlessly into Ranboo's two-finger hold, dangling him in open air, infuriatingly oblivious to his panic and sobs. 

Tubbo’s heart sinks when he watches through another streak of lightning illumates the forest around them, as his son is drawn to Ranboo’s open maw, a fit of sobs and garbled calls for his dad and screams to stop. 

Immediately, he runs closer to the giant, who’s still crouched over the clearing. 

“Oh god, oh my god, what the—RANBOO!” Tubbo yells, hands cupped over his mouth desperately. Rain pours down into him as he runs, causing him to stumble in the mud. As he approaches, he realizes quickly he can barely reach the edge of Ranboo's leg despite his immediate attempts to jump at it, and at another clap of thunder and bolt of lightning, he’s craning his neck in horror as he watches a lump in the deity’s throat travel down. 

—–—

taglist: @i-am-beckyu, @skullsnbruises, @nobodywritingao3, @krazycat49, @da3dm, @a-xyz-s // taglist request

[2-sleepy-for-this]

SLEEPY!!!! I HAVE SUCH BRAINROT OVER OUR LITTLE BROTHER RIGHT NOW!!! IVE RE READ YOUR FIC IDK HOE MMAY TIMES!!!! ITS SOOOOO GOOD AND IM DYING FOR MORE!!!!!

Pleaseeeeeee what happened to Tommy??? Is he okay!?!? PLEASE GIVE ME SOMETHING!!!

Also more questions, (forgive me if I’ve asked before) but will you be adding other characters to this au apart from who’s been mentioned? And if yes will they have a main role or more side character type?

Will anyone outside of twins duo get to meet Tommy? If yes, any hints as to who👀

And and and what about other tinies? Will there be more or is just Orphan boi Tommy?

OKAY THANK YPU FOR YOUR TIME AND CANT WAIT FOR PART 3!!!!!

Have these to show my appreciation 🍭🍭🍭🍭🍭🍭🍭

Hi Becky! Don’t worry Tommy will be okay! He’s just a bit lost rn.

I haven’t started chapter yet so no snippets (for now ;) )

there will be other characters introduced but most of them will be side characters

In the next chapter there will be another main character tho-

I don’t wanna give too much away with my plans tho so let’s just say Wilbur doesn’t find tommy before someone else does :).

Also Tommy will be the only tiny maybe in the main plot but it is a big apartment building.

thanks for the candy! 🍭 ٩( ᐛ )و

[ingo4you]

some Art :3

.......Tw: safe/soft vore

pX ɹǝɥ ǝʞıl sʞool ʇusǝop ǝɥS znɔ ɥɔnɯ ʎɹǝʌ ʇɹɐ sıɥʇ uı ıʞıN ǝʞıl ʇ,uop I ʇnq 'ʎpunℲ puɐ ıʞıN ǝq oʇ pǝsoddns sɐʍ ʇI

tag list: @andy3110

[melissa-s23]

Well, we've reached the end.

The final chapter of my fic, Broken Bond: Something that we'll try to repair, will post its final chapter tomorrow.

After 2 years, 5 months and nearly 100k words, this baby of mine will finally leave its nest and fly high for the rest of the world to appreciate in its entirety.

Thank you everyone who supported me through this. Your comments and feedbacks matter more than you'll ever know.

[mysterious-gizem]

Sacrificed

———

This was a prompt given by my friend @sheena-yuet

I hope you enjoy!

〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️

Dark brown hazy eyes scanned the organized room filled treasures worth so much gold, His eyes landed on a mesmerizing purple gem, which was placed on a pedestal. He crept up to the pedestal with a focused gaze, He pulled out a counterfeit gem to switch. The brunette steadied his posture and swiped the gem, and instantly switched it.

A grin grew on his face as he examined the the purple gem, Watching it shimmer in the faint light of the room. "George we need to go." A voice came from across the room, The male turned around facing his partner whom was holding a bag filled with gold.

"Yea-" George agreed as he tucked away the purple gem carefully, Both men snuck into the vents once more. Leaving the vault.

———

George took deep breaths of air as they were now far from the place they had been before, The two males giggled as they set up a small camp to stay for the night.

"That was sooo easy!" A ravenette boasted as he sat beside the fire they set up, "Pfft- Yea." George giggled along while reaching out at a basket with raw fish. "We have..." George started meddling in the basket, "Salmon or Cod?" George asked, turning his head to look at the other male.

The ravenette contemplated for a few seconds until deciding, "Eh I'll take Salmon." Sapnap said as he nipped at his bottom lip. George took out two Salmon's and started cooking it above the fire.

After a still yet calming silence Sapnap started speaking which made the brunette lightly jump at the sudden noise. "I heard there's this place called Las Nevadas." George's interests perked as each word flew out of Sapnap's mouth, "They have tons of casino's so I bet we can snag a pretty penny from them." Sapnap giggled.

"Let's head there tomorrow to check things out." George suggested grabbing the cooked fish, Handing one of them over to Sapnap. "Yea sure." Sapnap simply agreed while munching on his food. Both males finished the night by trampling over their fire, Sapnap stretched his arms over his head and bent down to snuggle himself in his sleeping bag.

———

When Sapnap's eyes fluttered open seeing the dim lighting of the sky. He groggily sat up staring at the calm sky—It was probably around 5 AM—He watched the brunette shuffle in his own sleeping bag. He sighed as he started packing up.

A while later the brunette sluggishly woke up, Sapnap gestured for George to fix up and get ready to leave. Whilst whining George slowly moved to collect his own items. Once all of their items were collected the sun was starting to unveil itself from the horizons.

The two males swung their leather satchels to their backs and continued to head into a specific direction Sapnap pointed to, The gusty wind hitting their faces. Sapnap's bandana flailed around like a fish out of water.

While George's hair danced around his head covering his eye view every once in a while, The wind increased as it howled. George sputtered as a fly entered his mouth before Sapnap let out a heavy laugh, Whilst the brunette glared at him.

"Shut up." George said while rolling his eyes, Sapnap swiped away a tear in his eye. Their hair continued to sway against the wind as they continued to traverse across the lands leading to Las Nevadas.

Even as the wind slowed down a bit, It still made their hair bounce around softly. Both males eyes stung as the sand flew into their eyes, Tears pricked on the ravenette's and brunettes eyes from the desert sand.

A sigh of relief was let out after the wind died down. George blinked a few times as red puffy eyes looked around, They made their way to the giant casino infront of them. The intimidating modern building standing tall and proud, Both theives focused their gazes on the empty yet clean pathways of the land.

"Hmm..." A voice rang in their ears as they whipped their heads around being met with a short duck hybrid wearing a white collard shirt with suspenders and black pants, Sapnao noticed the small golden wings rested on the side. Although George noticed the blue beanie on the males head and all the gold and silver jewelry he was wearing.

"Who are you?" Sapnap asked fixing his posture, "Shouldn't I be asking that?" The duck hybrid spoke, "I mean-...You guys are the one stepping on my lands." He stated putting one of his arms on his waist.

Sapnap opened his mouth to respond, But George spoke first before he could muster a word. "We're traveller's and we heard about this place." The brunette explained to the short ravenette.

He recieved a hum in response as the man's eyes scanned the two of them with a questionable gaze, "Hmm...If that's so then how about I give you guys a tour?" The duck hybrid proposed with an ear to ear grin.

"Sure-" George and Sapnap spoke in unison, "Great!" The shorter exclaimed. "Let me introduce myself. I'm Quackity from Las Nevadas." The man now known as 'Quackity' greeted in a formal manner.

"Let's begin the tour!"

———

After what felt like hours, Quackity offered for them to stay for the night in one of the buildings there. "Finally, I thought that guy would never stop blabbering." George groaned flopping down on the soft bed, "Atleast we now know where he keeps all his precious items." Sapnap snickered while kicking off his shoes. "I'll do a background check tomorrow and we'll take his stuff at midnight."

George nodded as he dozed off to sleep.

———

Midnight eventually came and they were standing on the roof of the casino where a vent layed beside them, George kneeled down and started to unscrew the vent. It popped off as it was moved to the side.

George held his head over the vents scanning around for possibly any rodents, In the clear George leaped down making a loud thud as his feet slammed against the metal. He went in a crawling position and crawled deeper into the vent, Soon he heard another loud thump against the metal vents, The brunette assumed it was his ravenette companion as he continued to make his way around the ventilation system. After passing multiple vents leading into different places he abruptly stopped infront of a specific vent.

He once again unscrewed the vent once again and was instantly met with the glimmering and shimmering of gold and gemstones. He snickered as he swiftly hopped down landing on his legs, He hungrily looked at the treasure before him as if he would consume them.

With quiet steps he went closer to the pile if gold coins and started stashing his bag. He heard a soft grunt hearing the familiar footsteps of the ravenette, "I'll get the diamonds." Sapnap spoke as he went over to a decently sized box filled with diamonds in different shapes and sizes.

George stared at the accumulated amount of gold he had in his satchel, Yet with the pure joy rushing in his veins another feeling aroused as if...

Something was off...

George has seen one to many gold peices to know what they would look like, He picked up one of the gold nuggets and scanned it. He let out a light gasp at the realization, Everything was wrong...

The color was too yellow...

It's texture did not feel normal...

It was fairly weighted different especially for the size was close to the size of his palm...

This is not gold.

George turned his head to warm Sapnap something wasn't right, But when he turned around Sapnap was gone and he was alone in the white colored vault.

He suddenly felt something sharp prick his neck, His panicked gaze looked at his neck.

A dart...

His vision went blurry, in a matter of seconds as he fell unconscious on the ground with a thud.

———

Clink...

"Huh?'

Clunk...

'Wha-'

Clink...

———

George's eyes shot open as he woke up. His wide eyes looked around seeing multiple guards in their uniforms, Another guard was holding Sapnap who was starting to wake up aswell. George snapped his head to the side when he heard a chuckle echo eerie dark room.

Sapnap looked at the dark silhouette, Emerging from the dark corner.

"Well look what we have here~" Quackity grinned as he tilted his head to the side. "Where the hell are we!?" George screamed struggling against the guards grip on him, "You are in no place to speak." The shorter growled.

"If I recall correctly, You two theives we're the ones pricking and prodding around." Quackity said in a taunting voice. Both males looked at him with hatred in their eyes, Yet he wasn't wrong.

"Sir, Should we bring them into the dungeon." The gruff voice of the guard asked. George's faced flushed with worry as his gaze flickered from Sapnap to the duck hybrid.

He watched as the duck hybrid looked at them. Suddenly Quackity had an idea as a smirk formed on his face, Sapnap and George looked at eachother with agitated eyes.

"Bring them to the beast."

Those words rang in both males ears repeatedly, They snapped back into reality when they we're yanked away leading them to a long hallway, The mossy stone walls and the concrete floor made George tense at how it looked.

Sapnap however kept a stern gaze watching the path they were taking occasionally scanning the guards, They turned a corner seeing a tall wooden door at the end of the hallway. The guards pulled open the door and shoved both of the theives in.

The guards chuckled before they slammed the door close, George winced at the sound and they were left alone in a gigantic room with dirty stone walls and cobwebs and bugs all around. "George-" Sapnap said kneeling and pulling George into a hug "We'll be fine don't worry." The ravenette spoke in a reassuring tone. George screwed his eyes shut as he cried against Sapnap's shirt. A choked sob escaped George's lips. Sapnap rubbed circles on George's back as he hummed a soothing tune to calm him down.

Terrified eyes gazed above...

A growl made both their heads snap into the darker side of the room. They heard a shuffle, Then a thump, They heard ragged breath from above.

A green gaze met their's, Both males let out a shriek as they stood up and backed away. The figure went closer lowering down to meet them. Their eyes widened as they realized what the silhouette was.

A giant...

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I did not proofread, so if I made any mistakes, tell me <3

[cyncerity]

merry christmas to all who celebrate!!

here’s my boys from the Store Shifter au celebrating christmas for the first time 💕

they live in the vents lol, Dream gave them a bunch of stuff to decorate their little hideout with!

i have a little bit of a backstory to this drawing that i might post later, but i just really wanted to get something out for the holidays! it’s been a long while since i’ve drawn something fully rendered out like this, so it was a lot of fun!!

here’s to another year of art and fics, im not burning out with this content anytime soon and that is both a threat and a promise! 💕