#dream smp gt

[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

[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

[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...

〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️

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

[stardelabourgeoisie]

the dream SMP will always be a part of me but DAYUM I'm glad its over. for many reasons. mainly the creators.

I think I miss it sometimes. The quiet death of that world was the most devastating things to witness, especially as I joined the fandom in 2021, which was about halfway through the peak of it. I was a sucker for benchtrio. I loved revivebur's plotline and dream going insane in prison. Those 2 both had an ending. Karlnapity was the ship that made me sign up to ao3. I stayed up until 3 am to catch the last time travel story Karl made, and it ended on a cliffhanger that never got resolved.

I don't miss my ignorance of who the people who made these stories were, (Fuck most of them are shitty people and we just didn't know) I grieve the quiet death of the server, and with it all of these stories that meant so much to us. I recently started reading Karlnapity fanfic again. I reread crimson rogue. I look back on my subscription list on ao3 and I stop when I see the stories abandoned because of the author's grief over Technoblade's passing. I grieve what could have been, what should have been. And now, years later, I let myself grieve over the thing that got me through the worst years of my life. The thing that let me meet a friend I still talk to to this day.

The fact it's a Minecraft server is irrelevant. It mattered. It mattered to me. I will continue to interact with the fandom, even if it is not to the same level as before, and I will grieve its unfair silent death.

DON’T STOP THE PARTYYYY

[dingbatnix]

I have the curiosity and wish to know about the following wips

Maneater

Dough

Untitled document (X5) the 3rd one :3

Axolotl

Hostage

Clingy

Dragon

This all peak my interest GREATLY!

Alright, finally getting to this one!! Letsa go!

Maneater: I think I've spoken Abt this one before, but y'know. Dream is a man eating giant, and he, George, and Sapnap run around collecting people who have been sacrificed to him. They start the smp (village in the mountains) that way, and try to live a happy life. The king of the country is amassing an army to hunt dream down, tho.

Dough: one shot, borrower Sapnap falls into some cookie dough that Dream is making. Whoops...

Untitled doc #3: Dream noms Tommy sometime after he escapes prison. Tommy spends his time cussing Dream out and listening to the man break down into panic attacks and general aftermath of torture stuff. Lost of snark and feels between the two of them.

Axolotl: Sapnap finds Dream, a small axolotl hybrid, suffering in the care of Quackity after the server deemed Dream too dangerous to run around on his own. Sapnap takes Dream to his house, puts him in one of his old fish tanks, and spends his time struggling to help Dream recover.

Hostage: (eddsworld) Edd gets kidnapped and held hostage by an unknown group with two other men, Paul and Patryck. Turns out they were all kidnapped because they're all close friends with Tord, who is the leader of an organization called the red army. The three of them need to escape together, but...an experiment gone wrong via the people that kidnapped them ends up with Paul and Patryck smaller than Edd's hand, and he needs to figure out how to get all three of them out alive.

Clingy: One shot, George is clingy when he sleeps, which ends up kind of dangerous for a borrower Sapnap. Oof.

Dragon: Sapnap is a dragon, and he has a human friend named George who freed him from captivity a long time ago. Well, George gets kidnapped by a giant named Dream (who just likes to troll people, really) and Sapnap spends months hunting them down while Dream and George end up bonding. Eventually, they'll form an odd trio that has all sorts of adventures.

Now, idk if any of these will be fully written, but hopefully one day.

Taglist cuz why not:

@brick-a-doodle-do @i-am-beckyu @da3dm @kayla-crazy-stuffs @local-squishmallow @skullsnbruises @munchkin1156 @gt-daboss

[arc852]

Do you write anything that isn’t mcyt gt? Like just g/t, or just mcyt, or any other fandoms?

Not at the moment! My hyperfixation is currently Hermitcraft/Life Series and G/t is my favorite thing to write so that's were I'm at right now lol.

I have written some other stuff for other fandoms in the past, including Sanders Sides and Dream SMP. All G/t still. You can find them on my AO3.

[nobodywritingao3]

Could you link Your Love (Deja Vu) part 4, cuz I can’t for the life of me find it

!! yeah

i decided not to post chapters of my stuff to tumblr unless it had g/t or vore and chapter 4 had neither. it's on my ao3 but i dont have plans to post it on tumblr

here is the ao3 link

all of my stories are locked so only registered ao3 users can see them

[smoll-stace]

Hey, question for you- what are some things you don’t enjoy in the G/t community? (Turn-offs, in lack of a better term.)

For the most part, I'm fine with anything but here are a few I avoid: Pet trope. giantess/female toll (I love the art, and I have a few myself. I just avoid it in writing, ) cookie-cutter borrower stuff dream smp fan fiction (i don't mind art, just avoid writing drama (i usually avoid posts about drama within the community just because i'm a sensitive person. i try to stay caught up, but without diving to deep into them) things i just avoid in general not specific to gt: nsfw sad endings stuff with 30+ chapters (mostly just cause I don't have a good attention span. if i'm reading it as it is being released or incomplete that's different but otherwise, I avoid it.

hope this answers your question :> i'm sure i missed something but atm this is all i can remember thanks for the ask!

[lamyaasfaraini]

Day 6 - A song that makes you happy

30 days song challenge

Buat aku tersenyum! Baru denger intronya aja udah happy haha. Duh album 7 Des inimah paling fav, karena punya kasetnya, didengerin di walkman kesayangan. Semua lagunya suka bgt, tp lagu ini best of the best sih. Ini ada di side A dan aku selalu tungguin vclipnya di Mtv. Liriknya sederhana bgttt, dari awal sampe akhir liriknya bagussss.. 7 des ini album yg seluruh member bandnya nyiptain lagu dan lagu ini ciptaannya sakti, ngga kalah puitis dr lirik2nya eross kan~

Karena engkaulah satu-satunya untukku, Dan pastikan kita selalu bersama

Karena dirimulah yang sanggup mengerti aku, Dalam susah ataupun senang

Dapatkah engkau selalu menjagaku? Dan mampukah engkau mempertahankanku?

Bila 'ku lelah tetaplah di sini, jangan tinggalkan aku sendiri

Bila 'ku marah biarkan kubersandar, jangan kau pergi untuk menghindar

Liriknya utk pasangan biar saling ngerti satu sama lain gt gaksieee

Strawberry Swing~ yaampun vibe lagunya aja happy bgt ini, liriknya juga kaya lg menikmati hidup, it is what it is gitu. Suatu wkt aku dengerin lagu ini sepulang ngampus di bus damri, cuaca lg panas bgt lewat supratman pohon rimbun dan adem (wkt itu aku naik damri jurusan Jatinangor-DU), eh ini lagu keputer gt kaya dpt aja momentnya lsg happy dengernya.

Bahkan vclipnya juga gemazzz dan bagus.. Ay layyykk.. Bisa ku repeat lagu inimah

Now the skyyyy could be blueeee i don't mind~ without you is a waste of time~

My only one! Setelah SMP suka bgt sama album My Diary, beranjak SMA album Friends lg kenceng bgt di radio2. Pas My Only One launching aku gabisa berhenti dengerinnya, lagunya ceria bgt liriknya bucin kaya baru jatuh cinta terus gapeduli sekitar haha

He's my only one i give him all my love even though my mom said no, i just go on and on~

No one's gonna take him away from me, every day and every nite i just wanna hold him tight and make sure that's everything stays right. And every day and every nite to dream of him is my delight and know that he'll stays with me all the way~

Walapun terkesan bucin tp ini beneran vibe jatuh cintanya dpt bgt biar pol sambil joged2 yagaksi wkwk

[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

[ao3feed-crimeboys]

Far Apart but Together in Heart

by Somerandom_person

Intro to the world, basically, there are mer people and humans. King of humans is Phil (hes wifeless but he apparently got rizz) Queen of mers is Kristin. They fall in love and have two twins (Techno and Wilbur) Their subjects come close to finding out abt their relationship, and since both species despise each other Kristin and Phil split apart, and take one of the children each. (Kristin takes Techno while Phil takes Wilbur) Only after they split apart Kristin realises shes pregnant with their third child, and sends a secret letter to Phil about him. She gets assasinated by Mer hunters just before giving birth. Techno managed to save Tommy from the wound just in time. With her dying breath she names him "Theseus" and then sadly passes in techno's arms. Her body is taken away by mer hunters and taken to their secret hideout or whatever. Phil finds out and BURNS IT DOWNNN WOOOOOOOO!!! And then he sees kristin's body without the child, so he took relief in the fact that atleast he didnt lose two family members. He then tries to live with his subjects in kristins image (as he saw her as kind, compassionate, giving, yet powerful and headstrong) anyways *sobs in goose* thats the summary ;o;also sry for bad grammar, im tired D:

Words: 194, Chapters: 1/?, Language: English

Fandoms: Dream SMP

Rating: General Audiences

Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, No Archive Warnings Apply

Categories: Gen

Characters: Kristin Rosales Watson, TommyInnit (Video Blogging RPF), Technoblade (Video Blogging RPF), Wilbur Soot, Phil Watson | Philza, Toby Smith | Tubbo, Ranboo (Video Blogging RPF), Niki | Nihachu, Clay | Dream (Video Blogging RPF), GeorgeNotFound (Video Blogging RPF), Sapnap (Video Blogging RPF), Luke | Punz, Grayson | Purpled (Video Blogging RPF)

Relationships: Sleepy Bois Inc./Sleepy Bois Inc. (Video Blogging RPF), Wilbur Soot & Technoblade & TommyInnit & Phil Watson, Technoblade/Phil Watson (Video Blogging RPF), Wilbur Soot & TommyInnit, Wilbur Soot & Technoblade, TommyInnit & Phil Watson (Video Blogging RPF), Technoblade & TommyInnit (Video Blogging RPF), Wilbur Soot/Technoblade/TommyInnit/Phil Watson, Wilbur Soot & Technoblade & TommyInnit & Kristin Rosales Watson & Phil Watson, Ranboo & Toby Smith | Tubbo & TommyInnit, Grayson | Purpled & Ranboo & Toby Smith | Tubbo & TommyInnit, Grayson | Purpled & Luke | Punz, Clay | Dream & GeorgeNotFound & Sapnap (Video Blogging RPF)

Additional Tags: will add more tags later :D, anyways i hate setting up fics, i just wanna get this over with, aiming for 10 kudos rn >:), Anyways, back to the actual tags now, RIP technoblade btw, Wilbur Soot and Technoblade and TommyInnit are Siblings, Alternate Universe - Merpeople, Alternate Universe - Fantasy, No Smut, Only romantic relationship is with Kristin and Phil, but kristins dead soooo, everyone knows shes not real anyways

[mysterious-gizem]

★Masterpost★

〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️

Hello!

Welcome to my blog!

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Asks are open, as well as Requests!

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Friends/Moots:

@sheena-yuet

@cgs-8

@foxyloxy2000

@fruitydraws

@dazrealqueeen

〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️

-𝗠𝗖𝗬𝗧 𝗚/𝗧-

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A God With No Control || Sizeshifter!Dream, Tiny!Technoblade.

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Blue or Black? || Sizeshifter!Dream, Tiny!Ghostbur, Tiny!Awesamdude.

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The Decimate of Human's || Sizeshifter!Dream, Tiny!George, Tiny!Sapnap.

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You Cry, I Die || Giant!Dream, Borrower!Sapnap.

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Sacrificed || Giant!Dream, Tiny!George, Tiny!Sapnap, Tiny!Quackity.

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Sticky Situation || Giant!Tubbo, Borrower!Ranboo.

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A Forced Revelation || Borrower!Dream, Borrower!George, Borrower!Sapnap.

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A Pixie and A Human || Giant!Wilbur, Tiny!Tommy.

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〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️

-𝗠𝗖𝗬𝗧 𝗢𝗻𝗲𝗦𝗵𝗼𝘁'𝘀-

———

I Can't Patch You Up... || DragonHybrid!Dream.

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Quit Pretending Idiot || God!Dream.

[sheena-yuet]

Every time when u want to draw a gt art but you try to not cringe or scare everyone :

I keep smiling while I draw this art :D

Plz check out my twitter too ! ><

[2-sleepy-for-this]

That Squeezing Feeling

And just like that, it’s finally done! This was for the 2022 MCYT G/T Secret Santa ‘winter wonderland’ and my assignment was 🥁🥁

@deathemo !! :)

I hope you like it! The prompt was: g!naga tommy and surprise tinies are out in the snow, tommy has to carry them and gets some intrustive thoughts, especially about how fragile the tinies and just how easy it would be for him just to squish them. It ends with them comforting tommy and it turns into a big fluf

Tw: intrusive thoughts, squeezing, dehumanization, slight fear (I think that’s it?)

word count: 1.5k

Cold. That was what led to this. Tommy’s tail slithered over the fresh snow as his human family trailed next to him. As a Naga, you’d think he would be freezing right now, with stiff limbs and a slowed heart while he slept in his brumation period. But Tommy wasn’t like most Nagas. As the biggest man alive, he was able to block out the cold with his thick scales and stay nice and warm from his human half.

The snowstorm took them completely by surprise while the misfit family spent a day in a nice field Tommy had found. It was sunny and warm earlier in the day as Tommy basked in the sun, Tubbo convincing Ranboo to join him in climbing Tommy’s tail while Wilbur watched from a few feet away. The weather changed quickly after that and as the clouds rolled in and the wind picked up; they tried leaving to beat the storm home. This didn’t work as planned. Now all of them were stuck walking in the forest as more snow drifted down to taunt them.

“Guys, I’m tired,” Tubbo groaned. “Can you carry me the rest of the way, Toms?”

When Tommy looked over to make a snarky comment about laziness, he was met with the one thing he couldn’t say no to: Tubbo’s puppy eyes at full force. Tommy had to take a stuttering second to collect his thoughts from the sudden look. Tubbo used his puppy eyes occasionally, whenever he wanted something fast, or just to mess with people, but it caught Tommy off guard every time. 

Finally, he gave in with a sigh and scooped up Tubbo with no warning, earning a startled noise.

The four continued on their way through the Forest, one now getting a reluctant, free ride. Eventually, as Tommy was in a deep focus on moving forward, and the small life in his hands that felt so small, so fragile-

There was a sudden weight on his tail, and he stopped. Tommy’s first instinct was to curl around the thing and squeeze. 

But Tommy’s a big man and big men don’t live off of their instincts, not anymore, so he instead turned to look at it. There, sitting like a king on a scaled throne, was his older brother, Wilbur. He let out a sigh of relief, still riled up from the scare.

“Hey, warn a guy next time, why don’t ya,” Tommy scoffed, slightly annoyed, “and get off my tail!”

“If Tubbo gets a free ride, then I’m not walking. "

“…fine”

Tommy gave in. It made sense to just carry all of them, really. He was faster, after all. Besides, even an idiot could see the side eyes Ranboo was giving him, it’d be a lot easier if he just asked to be picked up though.

“What are you waiting for, Ranboo? Get up here,”

With only a small hesitation, Ranboo made his way up, claiming a spot next to Wilbur on Tommy’s red scales. Tommy started hopefully the way they came earlier, now with two more added passengers. But for some reason, that instinct of squeezing something stayed, even after calming down.

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

It had been a few minutes of Tommy slithering on the fresh snow when Wilbur and Ranboo moved from his tail to his hands, where Tubbo was sitting. Apparently, his human hands were much warmer than his scaled tail and none of them were dressed right for the cold weather to begin with.

With his friends held gently to his chest, blocking out the cold, the conversation lulled into a comfortable silence, letting their minds wander. Tommy’s mind especially had the tendency to wander far.

Every so often he would get this feeling, a sense of dread. It would only grow as his small family got closer to him. Most of the time it just stayed in the back of his mind, but right now he had nothing but the forest in front of him to concentrate on. 

Tommy could feel the slight shivers of his family against his chest as he tried his best to protect them from the cold. How do they survive anything being this small? He could hold all of them in his hands, no problem, he could do anything to them with ease. 

Suddenly, those instincts were back with one simple thought: squeeze them. 

Tommy felt horrified when he heard that, doing his best to shake the thought out of his head, but it wasn’t working. 

A human is just so so fragile, it wouldn’t take much for it to break.

Them. His family aren’t ‘it’s. What was he thinking? 

But imagine how satisfying it would be, the fear in their eyes. It’s been so long since he saw them like that. Their first meeting was so long ago and since then, they’d gotten used to him quickly.

Just a bit of fear wouldn’t hurt anyone. He’s a naga, he’s made to do a lot worse than scare these little creatures.

“Uh…toms?”

Wilbur’s voice echoed in his ears, snapping him out of his trance. What was happening again? They were going home, right? And he’s holding them- he’s holding them too tight-

Looking down at his family, he could see some uncertainty in their eyes. They would look much more worried if they could read his thoughts. But what he was petrified of was feeling his hold on them loosen as they took a collective gasp of air.

He was squeezing them. He was squeezing them. Not hard enough to hurt or even bruise, but it could have been if he zoned out any longer.

“What’s going on?” Ranboo said, concerned, but Tommy couldn’t miss the edges of fear in his voice. “A-Are you ok Tommy?”

“I.. yea, yea, I-I’m fine. Just tired from having to carry my lazy friends. "

He tried joking to change the subject. It mostly worked, as they gave him a few offended remarks before starting a new conversation. But Tommy couldn’t focus on what was being said. He had almost hurt his family.

He couldn’t help it when he stared at the surrounding snow, breaths coming in short and shaking.

They trust him so much and he wants to scare them..wants to hurt them. 

No, he doesn’t want that. It’s his stupid instincts that want him to throw away all the trust he knows he doesn’t deserve. He’s better than this! 

Looking in the distance, he can see a familiar cave opening and rushes the rest of the way inside, wanting to put the fragile lives in his hands down before something else happens.

“Finally, I thought we’d be stuck out there all night!” 

Tommy tried to laugh at Tubbo’s joke, but it came out forced. He had to get away from them.

He jumped as something cold stroked his scales

squeeze it

No! 

He looked to see Ranboo petting the side of his tail. He looked concerned. He found his other family members had similar expressions. 

“Tommy, you can tell us if something’s bothering you,” Ranboo said. “You know that, right?”

“Yea! We’re family, and that means you can tell us all your secrets. "

“What Tubbo means to say is, we care about you and if something’s wrong, we want to know. "

Wilbur sounded so sincere, they all did. Maybe he was just overreacting. With a sigh, Tommy tried opening up about everything that had happened that night.

“W-well, it’s nothing really, I mean not nothing nothing but also nothing to worry about, I promise. I'm just overreacting… it’s nothing serious but, ..every once in a while I get, uh. I-I getthesethoghtstohurtyouguyseventhoughIwouldntdothatbecauseyourmyfamilyand- “

“Woah, woah, woah calm down toms, it’s alright.” Wilbur tried reassuring, “just breath and try this again, slowly”

“… Sometimes I get thoughts that tell me to hurt you guys. I-I wouldn’t ever do it though! They just show up when I don’t want them to. And sometimes I get these instincts in the back of my mind telling me what to do… they just got really bad. I’m so sorry, please don’t leave. I promise I can learn to stop.”

The three humans on the floor seemed shocked as Tommy rambled. How had they never realized, of course, Tommy would have instincts like this. He’s a naga. Even though they’re close, it’s still ingrained in his head. 

It must be so hard for him to deal with all this alone.

They weren’t gonna let that happen anymore.

It took some time, but eventually, the humans got Tommy to calm down and told him they had no plans of leaving him. Never.

And as the commotion from the inside of the cave grew quiet, if a hiking human were to wander in past the brush hiding the entrance, they would see not a fearsome naga with its helpless victims, but a family held close together with trust.

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

ta-da! Hope you all enjoyed and I may start writing more after this ;)

[mlmborrower]

hi i think you're really cool! i'm going to bed now, so i probably won't see your response until the morning, but could i get a g!bench trio (all of them or just one if you prefer) x t!reader? if not, don't worry about it. <3

Giant!Tubbo, Giant!Tommy, Giant!Ranboo x Tiny!Reader

Warnings: None

You were tired.

You were so so tired.

You clumsily swung your fishing hook to grasp to the counter of the house you borrowed in.

It was a relatively new house, but the owners often weren’t around so it made it easier to borrow.

This was currently not the case, as the owners were around, but you were too tired to notice or care.

You needed food. Now.

The fish hook locked into place and you began climbing. The amount of times your hands slipped became innumerable, and you collapsed on the countertop the minute you got to the top.

Just a few minutes… you told yourself before you passed out.

You awoke swaddled in soft cloth, with loud voices floating around you.

“Do you think they’re okay?”

“Agh, for the last time Tubbo, they’re fine, just exhausted.” An irritated accented voice replied.

“Quiet, I think they’re waking up,” a third voice piped up.

You slowly blinked awake to see three familiar faces.

A short brunette ram hybrid, a tall lanky enderman hybrid, and a blonde human.

The owners of the house.

Your eyes darted between theirs, immediately noticing none seemed aggressive… just curious, if not confused.

“Uh, hi. I’m Ranboo. You kinda… fell asleep on our counter. Are you alright?” The enderman hybrid asked.

You nodded nervously, biting your lip. Your eyes quickly trailed to a bag of chips held in the blonde human’s hands.

Your stomach growled.

There were a few mixed reactions. The blonde human smirked and proceeded to dangle a chip in front of your face.

“What? Ya hungry- Ow!”

“Don’t be mean, Tommy!” The ram hybrid smacked the blonde human, Tommy, in the arm and grabbed the bag, fishing a chip from it and cautiously placing it in front of you.

You eyed it nervously for a second before snatching it up and taking a bite, almost sobbing as the food hit your stomach.

“Thank you…” you mumbled between bites.

“So it can speak- Ow! Tubbo!”

Ranboo rolled his eyes at the other two, crouching down so he was closer to you.

“Ignore them. They’re just… them,” he laughed slightly.

“So, uh… what’s your name?”

You paused, flushing slightly as all the attention suddenly turned to you.

“Y/N. My name is Y/N.”

The trio smiled genuinely, even Tommy.

“Well, it’s nice to meet you, Y/N! Welcome to the family.”