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#g/t tommy
skullsnbruises · 1 year
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Borrower Tommy is a silly guy.
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Taglist: @poprockpanda @brick-a-doodle-do @local-squishmallow @dingbatnix
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cyncerity · 1 month
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more Hiraeth AU!! Here’s Ranboo and Aimsey, they’re siblings :)
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bonus-
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dingbatnix · 3 months
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"Hey what's your name?"
"Ezekiel."
"Fuck you, Ezekiel!"
Taglist :D
@brick-a-doodle-do @i-am-beckyu @da3dm @kayla-crazy-stuffs @local-squishmallow @skullsnbruises @munchkin1156 @gt-daboss
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i-am-beckyu · 3 months
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Just out of Reach, but Never out of Sight
So..... it's been *looks at last update* SHEESH A YEAR ?!?! Uhhhh I'm so sorry this took so long to update, but I am far from done with this au so let's go for getting another upload! I've shared my views on the whole William Gold thing so further explanation is here. But without further a do, enjoy!
Chapter 4
chapter 1, chapter 2, chapter 3 cw: panic, anxiety, fear of abandonment, mentions of child abuse/neglect and a whole lot of fluff :3 wc: 3938
Disclaimer! This story is based on the characters of the Dream SMP and not the real life content creators. Anything that occurs in this story is purely fiction and should be treated as such. Thank you.
 ・ 。゚☆: *. .*  ・ 。゚☆ : ☽ .* ・ 。゚☆: *. .* 
Wilbur sat at the dining room table, his plate of syrup-drowned waffles staring back at him.
He wanted to know what Phil and Tommy were talking about and why the boy had hid under the bed.
He thought they’d calmed him down last night? 
The second he’d given Tommy the little cow plushie, Wilbur noticed how the boy’s eyes had widened with wonder. It was the sweetest thing the blonde had done since he met him, and he’d had to hold himself back from cooing and wrapping the boy into a hug.
But doing that would definitely be overstepping some kind of boundary judging by Tommy’s reactions and that was the last thing the brunette wanted to do. All the evidence was right there when he’d thought about it as he drifted off to sleep the night before. The flinching, the withdrawnness and the fear of saying the wrong thing; it all just began to add up. 
Tommy had been abused.
No child would be dressed in poorly put together rags and react the way they had if they hadn’t thought they were going to be hurt. Hiding under the bed was the confirmation he needed that his assumptions were true and all he could think about was how he didn’t want anyone else hurting that sweet little boy ever again.
Not if he had anything to say about it.
“What’s got you in a tizzy?” 
Wilbur lifted his head to see his twin, Technoblade, leaned up against the kitchen counter with a freshly poured steaming cup of coffee.
“Morning Techno. Sorry, didn’t hear you enter.”
“It’s not like you to be up so early Wil.”  The pink-haired teen commented curiously. 
He couldn’t help but observe the way his brother kept their gaze trained towards the hallway as he joined them at the dining table. He could make out the muffled voice of Phil talking from the other room but not what was being said.
“Is it that kid Dad brought home?” Technoblade asked. “I heard you both calling for them this morning which woke me up.” 
“Yeah, sorry about that.” Wilbur smiled apologetically as he faced his brother across the table. “We were, but Dad’s with him now under the bed.”
“He’s what?” Techno arched his brow perplexed. “Under the bed?”
“Yeah.” Wilbur sighed heavily. “I think I spooked him when I was going to come in about breakfast, and he panicked.” 
He couldn’t help but think about how closed off Tommy had been the night before. The way he seemed to carefully choose his movements and would shrink back if he felt like he overdid it. He wanted to see the Tommy with the spitfire attitude. Not the child that felt the need to tread carefully through every interaction.
“I think- I think wherever he came from he was abused, Tech.” 
“Well from how you and Dad described him in the messages, it certainly wouldn’t be too far-fetched to assume it.” Techno sipped his coffee as Wilbur grabbed his knife to cut into his waffles and sighed.
“Well whatever happened to Tommy, I’m hoping we can get him to open up and talk to us.” 
For his sake.
 ・ 。゚☆: *. .*  ・ 。゚☆ : ☽ .* ・ 。゚☆: *. .* 
Leaving the guest bedroom had been far harder than what it should have been.
While he knew Phil was only concerned for his well being, Tommy wasn’t quite sure he was ready to be in the presence of all 3 Beans at once. 
He knew Phil had mentioned the night before about Techno coming home late which undoubtedly meant the teen was up by now having his morning coffee and Tommy knew how Techno tended to act around ‘new visitors.’ 
One good perk of living in the walls was you learned how every person of the household acted around each other, and new people. Phil and Wilbur were always fairly welcoming, but Techno wasn’t the easiest to talk to. If you didn’t know him, he may come across as cold and calculating. Not the easiest person to approach without shaking in your boots that’s for sure.
But as Tommy would tell you, he knew that after the guests had all left, the sheer amount of relief the pinkette would feel, further revealing how awkward they had been about being around these ‘strangers’ was hilarious. It wasn’t a villain behind glasses moment, just an awkward teen with limited social skills. 
Tommy couldn’t help but giggle to himself as he’d watched the teen collapse in his bed after a certain interaction with a salesman as if it had drained all the life out of him. People just weren’t Techno’s strong suit.
But even knowing this didn’t ease the boy's nerves. It didn’t change the fact that even if Technoblade was socially awkward that he wasn’t capable of harm. The fencing trophies in his room a testament to that feat of strength.
His nervousness about having breakfast with the 3 must have been obvious, because Phil had gently placed his hand on his shoulder, giving it a reassuring squeeze before leading them both out of the guest room and to the dining room.
Just breathe Tommy. They don't know what you are yet. 
You’re okay for now.
“Morning Tech, good to see you up and about.” Phil greeted chipperly as he manoeuvred himself into the kitchen leaving Tommy to observe by the hallway. “I’d like you to meet Tommy.”
Tommy briefly met Techno’s gaze and was met with a solemn stare as they sipped on their coffee. He’d be joking if he said he knew what was going on in the teens head. 
The blonde forced himself to give one short acknowledging nod at the pinkette, not trusting his voice to form any coherent words as he shifted uncomfortably from where he stood. He deliberately kept his eyes averted from the twins at the table, fully well knowing Techno was most definitely staring at him, if the hot feeling of holes being burnt through his chest wasn’t already obvious enough. 
It took everything in him to not run right there and then.
“Tommy, why don’t you take a seat next to Techno and I’ll fix you up something to eat.”
Okay now would be a good time for his voice box to work because there was no way he wanted to sit next to Technoblade. 
That was NOT his ideal way of getting caught. 
It didn’t matter if humans couldn’t read minds, if anyone could catch on to something being off, it would be Technoblade. It was like the teen had a sixth sense and somehow just always knew when something wasn’t quite right. Just like the moving of the craft knife, he was sure if he slipped up in front of Techno, they’d know and it would be game over and onto the torture in a heartbeat.
Thankfully, it didn’t seem like it would come to that, as Techno was quick to stand and tuck in his chair as he excused himself to finish some upcoming school work.
“All good Dad, I’ve got homework to finish before school on Monday. I’ll just excuse myself.”
Tommy felt himself relax. Oh, thank Prime for humans and their absurd amounts of homework! Even if he didn’t really understand why they got it.
“Alright Techno, just make sure to have something more than coffee this morning alright? And don’t let me catch you having something potato-based before lunch, got it?”
“No promises.” The pinkette replied, before grabbing an apple from the refrigerator and began walking towards his room.
Tommy however was still glued to the hallway. 
The hallway that led to said Bean's bedroom.
Even though he was Bean sized right now, Technoblade still towered over the young boy. So much so that the light overhead was slightly obscured, casting an eerie shadow over the teens face making his deep brown eyes appear to glow a dark red. Tommy felt the way his heart spiked, his instincts screaming at him to run as his eyes darted around looking for potential tunnels and crevices to escape to. Anything to get away from this predator of man as they came to a steady stop before him.
“Ahem.” The teen cleared his throat along with a flick of his head.
What did he want? He hadn’t even done anything and was already in trouble? Should he have moved to the table quicker? Or had he stared too long?
A second cough with another jerk of the teen's head as Tommy’s anxiety began to grow finally keyed what Techno wanted from him.
Oh . 
He wanted him to move.
“Tech, quit scaring the poor kid and go around them.” Phil teasingly scolded. “You’re gonna give Tommy a heart attack.”
Techno huffed in minor annoyance before shuffling past, minorly brushing against Tommy’s arm as he did. It wasn’t hard or anything, but Tommy couldn’t suppress the flinch it caused from his prior panic. He missed the way Techno’s eyes furrowed in concern as he hurried to move before he caused any more problems.
“Don’t mind him Tommy,” Wilbur piped up, drawing the younger's attention back to the table. “He’s not much of a people person.”
The blonde finally let himself breathe as he brought his attention back to the brunette as they continued. “Come take a seat and have some breakfast, yeah?”
Tommy nodded, gingerly making his way over to the table plopping down opposite Wilbur as instructed before. As he sat, Phil picked up a plate and served a freshly cooked waffle onto it, before drizzling it in thick golden syrup and strawberries.
“Here you are, mate.” The man said placing the decorative dessert in front of him with a knife and fork.
He whispered his thanks as he picked up the utensils, but the Borrower couldn’t help but be on edge. Even if Phil and Wilbur had been nice to him his whole stay, Techno clearly didn’t want him here. He was sure that after breakfast, Phil was going to take him back to the park like he’d said, but then what? He couldn’t tell them that his real home was actually here, but also couldn’t risk being taken to the park and never finding his way back.
There had to be a way to figure out this whole mess before they brought up leaving. At most he just had to figure out a way to get back from the park after they left him there because it’s not like the walls were an option until he had a grasp on how he kept growing and shrinking.
Tommy cut a bit of the waffle off before stabbing it and a strawberry onto his fork, the maple syrup having sunken into the fluffy dessert. At least he’d get to enjoy one more good meal before he gets temporarily kicked out. 
‘Hopefully not forever’ the Borrower thought bitterly at the idea of abandoning yet another home.
“So, Tommy,” Phil began as he set a plate of his own waffles down to join the pair at the table. “Feeling a bit better?”
“Yeah, a bit.” He answered as he took another mouthful of waffle. “The waffles are really good.” The boy said, muffled between chews.
“Ew, finish your mouthful before you speak.” Wilbur grimaced as Tommy shovelled another forkful of waffle in. “I don’t want to see your mushed-up breakfast, thanks.”
Tommy slowed his chewing and allowed himself to swallow. Shoot, he hadn’t meant to upset him with how he ate again. Did he now have to be conscious about how he ate too? He thought humans ate like this all the time though?
“Wilbur.” Phil scolded as he elbowed his son in the arm. “You’re almost as bad as Techno.” 
The man sighed before turning his attention back to the tense blonde with a sympathetic smile. “It’s alright Tommy that’s not what Wilbur meant. It’s just you need to finish your mouthful before speaking. You could choke if you’re not careful.”
The boy nodded hesitantly before taking another mouthful and chewing it fully before swallowing. Why did humans have to have so many rules? In the colony, no one would have bat an eye if you spoke with your mouth full. You’d get your share and move on. How you ate was no one’s business and certainly no one cared about how Tommy ate. Then again, he’d never really had enough food to stuff his face when he was at the colony for it to be an issue. 
Perhaps he was being sloppy…
“Sorry.” He whispered before taking another bite. 
Phil sighed, setting down his knife with a soft clink. How was he going to get this kid to see that he was safe here? He hadn’t meant to make them feel more uncomfortable but it seemed the stress of it all was starting to get to the kid.
The man stared at the plate in front of him, his waffles half-eaten and starting to get cold. Each step of progress to make Tommy feel comfortable felt like it took 2 steps back. The kid was probably itching to get to the park and get back home too, but the thought of leaving Tommy like this just didn’t sit well with him. He glanced at the young blonde as he took his time with each bite, noticing how his gaze flicked from Wilbur to him and back to the plate worried as they ate in silence.
So tense, like walking on thin ice…
After finishing pacing himself on breakfast, Tommy had been intercepted by Wilbur. 
The brunette had taken one look at him and insisted he have a shower, shoving some clean clothes into him and ushered him into the bathroom. It’s a good thing he knew how taps worked, because understanding how to change water temperature would have been an awful experience had he not. 
Despite feeling bad about using the Crafts water, Tommy had to admit being able to wash up properly after so long felt wonderfully refreshing. Even seeing his own reflection in the mirror; clean and well-groomed for the first time in years, had him taken aback at how nice his hair and skin looked after a good wash.
The clothes Wilbur had given him had been some old clothes he didn’t fit into anymore and had had lying around. A pair of jeans, a basic t-shirt with some humans on it that Tommy didn’t recognise and an old blue sweater that was slightly too big on him. It felt odd to wear clothes made with fabrics of such high quality, but he instantly fell in love with the sweater. 
Now yes, he was aware of how bad his clothes had been. They were basically falling to bits on him, but it’s not like he didn’t know that. The Great Tommyinnit knows how to make nice clothes thank you very much.
If anything he was a pro tailor back in the colony, but considering he’d been roaming for weeks at a time carrying only the bare necessities before finally settling in at the crafts; new clothes hadn’t been much of a priority. He’d only really just managed to get his new home to his liking and with all the necessities he would need. New clothing had been next on his to-do list, if the mud-stained and holey garments he wore daily had made any indications of needing them.
He just needed a few days to gather the fabric and thread and he’d have a new wardrobe within the week. But the clothes he made vs the clothes Wilbur had lent him were nothing in comparison to quality! It was all just so soft and silky feeling and Tommy almost never wanted to take any of it off even if it was slightly too big. It wouldn’t be hard to adjust the seams on the jeans to make them fit better and the same with the shirt. His trusty handmade needle could make quick work of that. 
Maybe Wilbur wouldn’t mind if he took them home with him? 
That was, if he’d ever be able to go home.
Tommy still didn’t understand how any of this worked and trying to make himself leave the bathroom to ‘take him home’ was not helping.
The curling feeling in his gut telling him to just stay put and hide kept him mulling over the options in his head. But how could he do that after he told Phil he lived near the park? They would expect him to be fine once he left and go back home just like he supposedly wanted.
He turned to face himself in the mirror, stray water droplets dripped down the side of his face from his still-damp hair. The clean, presentable Tommy he saw now, no longer the same dirty, orphan he knew he was. Perhaps if he’d always been like this, he’d never have been kicked out of the colony. He never would have been alienated by those meant to care, never felt so small when it was normal. But now he was big, clean and everything someone might love as a Human Bean and yet he felt so fake hiding behind a false facade.
After all, he was only a Borrower.
The dreaded small feeling came creeping back in and all it took was one glance at the mirror for Tommy to wish he was back to his old self. He shouldn’t have put the thought of being loved in his head again. As much as he wanted to, he couldn’t bear the thought of the Crafts turning on him should this disguise fall. Tommy squeezed his eyes shut tightly as he clutched the edge of the sink counter.
He wanted to go home and be small again. Hide away where it was safe from all that was out to get him. Away from this reflection of a boy he didn’t recognise. A tingly sensation pricked at his skin as tears began to drip steadily down his cheeks. He was being childish; he knew that, but he didn’t care. Why couldn’t he just be loved as he was?
Upon opening his eyes to look at the disgrace that was him in the mirror, Tommy found he was no longer staring at himself, but rather at the side of the wooden cabinet- three times smaller than he’d been almost seconds before. 
He’d shrunk. Again?
Confusion swept over his mind as he scrubbed at his face. How did this keep happening? One second he’s big and hating his Bean size counterpart, the next he’s smaller and wishing….
To be smaller…
It suddenly all began to make sense as the puzzle pieces began to slot into place. Every time he’d grown or shrunk, he’d been wishing to change. To be bigger to catch up or smaller to go home. He willed it, and it happened. 
Did his desire to change trigger the shift of his size?
Tentatively, Tommy stood back from the counter and focused hard. He wanted to be smaller, like his old self. Small enough to fit through the cracks, small enough to hide out of sight, be 3 inches tall again, the only right size. The Tommy size.
The tingling returned, this time all over his body as the blonde focused on changing his shape to be what he envisioned. It was a warm sensation and Tommy thought it was strange how he’d never felt it until now. When the tingling dissipated, Tommy slowly opened his eyes as a small gasp escaped him.
“I shrunk.” He whispered in awe as he took in the now enlarged bathroom. He grabbed at his hands and arms, patting himself down to prove that he indeed had changed with a disbelieving laugh. “I’m me again.” 
“Ha, I’m actually me! Oh, thank prime.” Tommy cheered as he hugged himself tight. “I thought I’d never work this out.”
The familiarity of large objects and tall ceilings finally returned the Borrower's sense of normalcy. How he missed this. He could finally go home, size not restricting him at all and return back to the safety of the walls. Just the walls, his tiny shoebox home and-
Me.
Tommy glanced around the little bathroom. The light green tiles were clearly a design choice by Phil but the fluffy light blue towels were definitely a conscious decision by Wilbur, and you’d never guess the yellow daffodils were put together by Technoblade. Each had their own little way of expressing themselves.
Tommy sighed as he stared at his hands, inspecting them front and back.
So a simple thought was all it took to change size right? 
Just think big- be big. Simple. 
Right?
Only a bit of tingling later and Tommy was back to his Bean height. It truly took no effort at all, as if it was second nature to him. Not Borrower nature, but certainly something. Maybe the other Borrowers had always been able to sense that in him. This thing that wasn’t quite right was this incredible size-shifting ability that probably no one had ever heard of and he had it. He certainly was no Borrowerer and definitely not a Bean. 
But no one else knew that.
Tentatively, Tommy reached out and picked up a single Daffodil and twirled it in his hand. He’d heard Technoblade talking about how there was a whole language of flowers and that each one meant something different when presented to another person. He couldn’t remember what a Daffodil meant but, the flower itself brought the happy memories of Crafts to the forefront of his mind.
They didn’t know what he was and with this shifting ability sort of figured out, what could stop him from staying? Or at least from getting to know the Crafts better. With something to leave behind, all it would take is to leave a trail back to the Crafts house from the park and he could go and come when he pleased. He’d be able to walk distances that used to take him days in a matter of minutes with ease and the Crafts would never have to know about where his true place of residence was.
It was a second chance at having a real family, or at least a relationship with someone that didn’t immediately hate him. He wouldn’t have to leave forever and could come back and actually talk to someone! It may be risky without knowing the full extent of the shifts, but it was a chance and a chance he was willing to take. 
A knock at the door caused the boy to jump, but thankfully he remained silent this time. 
“Tommy you alright in there?” It was Phil. Bless the old man's heart for his concern. “You’ve been in there awhile and just wanted to check if you were okay?”
“Yeah, yeah I’m alright,” Tommy called back through the door looking around the bathroom for something to enact his hastily thrown together plan. “Just about done. I’ll be out in a minute.”
“Okay, we’ll get ready to leave shortly to take you back to the park then, if you’re happy to.” 
The blonde finally spotted something suitable for his trail and quickly grabbed a handful of decorative little blue pebbles from the bottom of a vase filled with fake pink camellia flowers and shoved them into his pocket before grabbing his dirty clothes.
“Sounds good, big man,” Tommy said as he opened the door to where the taller blonde was standing a little bit away looking minorly concerned.
“Let’s get going.” the boy said with a smile.
This was going to work. 
He knew it.
 ・ 。゚☆: *. .*  ・ 。゚☆ : ☽ .* ・ 。゚☆: *. .*
__________________________
YAY! WE FINISHED CHAPTER 4!!! WOOOOO Again I am so sorry this took so long to do. I've been working on it on and off for awhile with little progress and life has just been kicking my butt lately that finishing stuff up sucks. I have made a start on chapter 5 and I do plan to finish this fic, it just may take awhile with current circumstances.
HUGE thank you to @a-xyz-s and @munchkin1156 for beta reading this chapter and grammar issues! You are my heroes TwT.
TAG LIST: @local-squishmallow @brick-a-doodle-do @justarandomsloth @veryfunkycheesecake @munchkin1156 @kayla-crazy-stuffs @da3dm @eiscreme135 @orchid-harmony @the-tiny-lurker @colossal-red @nobodywritingao3 @nata2343 @bad-author777 @crazyfoxgirl10 @guppybubbles @box-beanz
Link to tag list for future tags :3
✨Thanks for reading! <3✨
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nobodywritingao3 · 9 months
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unnamed monster & caretaker au
Tasked with feeding and caring for the king's resident monster, Tommy is constantly overworked and fully expects to die before he's twenty. He has an odd relationship with the beast and makes it a point to keep details about himself private, but it's difficult when the creature is the closest thing in the world he has to a friend.
wordcount: 2.3k 🕸 read it on AO3
CW: - hard vore mention - soft vore mention - mentioned abuse and dehumanization
‼️‼️‼️ Unfinished, unedited one shot. Proceed with caution
@gracideaviolet sent me a writing prompt and this is what i originally wrote for it. i like the concept but i wrote this at a not-good time and when i reread it, i didnt like the quality enough to fix it. if you like this story, let me know cuz that might give me motivation to properly finish this thing. feel free to take the idea but please credit and send it to me cuz i like this story and wanna see what someone else does with it
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Tommy finished loading the cart and took a second to breathe.
He heard the beast shifting around in the dark. "Are you doing okay out there, Sunshine?"
Despite his tiredness, the sweet nickname made him smile.
"You know you eat a lot? It's a pain in the ass to load myself."
He meant it as a joke but silence hung in the air a second longer than it should have.
He cleared his throat. "I don't mind it. I'm compensated."
The beast snorted. "Not enough."
Tommy laughed awkwardly and didn't say anything.
He walked over to the control panel and started up the track.
The cart was big enough to fit a barn, and filled to the brim with various livestock, prisoners of war, and whoever else might have found themselves on the king's hit-list. Nothing sent to the monster was alive. It was a point the monster whined about a lot, but Tommy much preferred it that way. It was already disgusting having to spend hours upon hours piling the cart with bloody meat (sometimes human!) by himself, and the day he was handed a living person would be the day he faked his death and fled the kingdom.
He pressed a few buttons, tried not to cut himself on several rusty levers, and the rail obediently started itself up with a few revs and puffs.
The beast hummed contentedly at the noise.
The cart began to run along the track, disappearing from his view and descending into the inky black cave. He heard the gate creak open and he heard it creak close. And then he heard the beast begin to eat.
They weren't nice sounds by any stretch of the imagination - ugly rips and wet squelches of flesh - but Tommy had been at the job for a while and was long used to it. He settled in and waited for the creature to finish its meal.
"So how was your day, Keeper?"
Tommy hummed. "About the same as it always is. My master told me that the king will be coming in soon for a performance review, but I've no idea when that might be."
The beast paused its munching before hesitantly starting again a moment later. "I - why?"
He shrugged, assuming the monster could see him from the dark. "Something about me holding down this job the longest out of anyone before."
"Hm."
"I don't understand why that would intrigue the king. And no offense to you personally - "
"Uh huh," the monster sarcastically interjected -
" - but this isn't exactly the career path I'd have chosen. If I knew how to transfer I probably would have. Honestly - I have no idea how the others could have quit this job. I was under the impression that this is the sort of thing you do until you die."
It laughed at that.
Tommy sighed.
He was quiet for a few moments, a question sitting heavy on his tongue.
He shouldn't ask. It's impolite.
The monster shifted around. "Spit it out."
He gave the darkness an accusatory look. "I don't know what you're talking about."
There was a huff of laughter. "You know exactly what I'm talking about. You're doing that thing where you want to say something but are worried about what I'll think. It would be adorable if I wasn't desperate for decent conversation."
"Fuck you." He said it with a smile.
"Well? Are you going to say or not?"
He scrubbed at his face. Fuck it. "What were your other keepers like?"
The beast went silent for several long moments.
Shit. "You don't have to answer if you - "
"I didn't much care for them."
Tommy didn't say a word.
"The feeling was mutual." It sighed heavily. "You're a much better replacement, Sunshine."
"I'm sorry for asking."
The beast purred. "Don't be, dear. I pressed you. And I don't mind answering." It jostled the cart. "And I'm done eating."
Tommy nodded and powered up the control panel again. The cart began to recede. 
It appeared from the darkness, picked completely clean and shiny as if it never been covered in blood at all.
It scared him a little, how quickly the monster could eat such a large amount, but he dismissed those thoughts as easily as they came. When would that ever affect him?
He checked the clock. He still had a few hours before he had to report back. "Do you mind if I stay with you longer?"
The monster laughed conspiratorially. "Oh, but that's against the rules," it said in a high mockery of his voice.
He flushed.
He had been terrified of the monster when they first met. He gave any excuse to leave the beast as soon as he could, including that the rules specified that spending unnecessary time with it was prohibited. That was true, but no one would have known if he chose to linger. In hindsight, it had been terribly obvious how afraid he was and he's only embarrassed that the monster pretended to believe him.
"You're the worst."
"And you still want to spend time with me?"
Tommy blew a raspberry at the darkness, earning a few laughs.
It was comfortably quiet for a few seconds before the monster spoke again. "Why are you curious about my old keepers?"
He tugged at his fingers. "Do you know how I ended up here?"
"You never talk about it."
He frowned. "And I never will," he responded coldly. It never gave up asking. "But do you know, generally, how someone ends up working this kind of job?"
The monster was quiet. "Yes."
Tommy didn't say anything for a minute. "The king is very angry with me. I don't want to see him again. However the other keepers escaped..." He shook his head. "I don't know. I don't know what I'm saying. If the king requests an audience with me, it isn't for any good reason."
~
When the king acquired his monster, he hired out help to feed the thing and keep it under control. He made sure the beast ate lavishly, but now matter what they fed it, it never seemed like to satiate the creature. But it hadn't died of starvation and that was good enough. When its caretakers started to disappear, it wasn't difficult to guess what happened.
But acknowledging the problem would mean addressing it too, and the king simply didn't care. In the end, he realized he had the perfect way to quietly do away with those he needed gone. He sourced this job, with its one hundred percent rate of 'job abandonment' to political adversaries or people growing affluent enough to take his throne.
Which takes him to the present day, and a rather interesting problem.
When some servant boy had spilled a bottle of red wine down his front during a gala several years prior, the king had been so angry that he threw the child in a dungeon and left him there. When the monster's then-keeper inevitably disappeared, the king came to the boy and grimly informed him of his punishment.
He hadn't expected the child to last more than a couple of days. He'd even picked out his replacements.
But lo and behold, the boy remained present at his job post for a week. And then that week became several, and those several became months, and those months became a year and a half.
The king couldn't understand why it hadn't eaten him yet. He was fifteen at this point, certainly the youngest to feed the monster. Was it waiting for him to grow up? Did it want to watch him sprout up before it made its attack? It was perfectly sentient, and the king knew this even though he denied it upfront. Shouldn't the monster trust that the sooner it finished its current keeper, the sooner he would be replaced by another?
Had there been someone who had managed to bring this creature to subservience? If so, then the king took special interest.
And if not, then it was long overdue that the servant boy be put to death.
~
Being a human's lapdog wasn't a dignified experience, but it was a fed one. Driders were megafauna, making it hard to get enough food. It certainly didn't help that the human kingdom believed everything was its rightful property and saw driders as a threat to them owning more than they could eat.
Wilbur certainly didn't enjoy his life, and he was almost always hungry anyway, but at least he was alive.
He lived in a dungeon below the castle, but he wasn't sure what a castle was and he barely understood the concept of a dungeon. He hadn't seen the sunshine in years, and his keeper was his only company.
He liked his keeper. The boy was kind. He didn't threaten to pee in Wilbur's food or throw rocks at him. He asked him how his day was, and even made it a point to handle the meat carefully as he transported it into the cart. He seemed lonely, and made up excuses to stay. He was a cute little thing, and Wilbur wanted to stick him into his brooding pouch and keep him there.
~
The cart rolled into Wilbur's enclosure, and he greedily snatched it up and began to eat.
His keeper sat at a table in the light.
Wilbur finished his food in a few seconds and toyed with the cart. He always made it seem as if it took him longer to eat than it did.
"Do you have a family?"
The boy froze at the question. "Why do you ask?"
Wilbur pouted even though he knew he couldn't be seen. "We've known each for so long. I don't even know what your name is. Can't I know just a little?"
His keeper awkwardly laughed, fidgeting with his fingers. "Oh... I guess you're right."
Wilbur's heart leapt.
"I don't have a family."
"Oh." Shit.
"Yeah."
What was he supposed to say?
"I don't have a family either."
His keeper peered into the darkness. "What are you?"
Wilbur smiled. He skittered to the bars of his cage and leaned against them, towering over the boy, though he had no idea. "Would you like to play twenty questions?"
"You're so lame, seriously, what are you? I don't even know what you look like."
I could show you, he wanted to say.
Coming out of his cage was easy. The king assumed it could hold him but no one actually checked. And aside from his keeper, no one had been in his dungeon for years. In reality, the bars had long been bent open and Wilbur could get out whenever he pleased.
It wouldn't be difficult to come through the bars and present himself to his keeper. Pick the little figure up in his hands and take him into his cage with him.
When he'd eaten his previous keepers, they'd always been replaced. If he captured his current keeper and stored him away in his brooding pouch, then he'd never be lonely again.
It was tempting.
"That's probably for the best," he said. He stepped away from the bars of his cage and curled up on the floor.
He liked his keeper. He wanted him to be happy. Just because Wilbur was stuck in a cage didn't mean he had to be as well.
"Do you think I'd be scared of you?"
Wilbur looked down at himself, at his large stature and eight legs. His fangs came down to his mid chin. "I think you'd be terrified, dear."
His keeper smiled. "I don't think so. I have a suspicion that you're just harmless."
His heart melted. Oh stars, he wanted to eat this kid.
He massaged his aching brood pouch. "You're sweet, Sunshine."
~
The cart was left in his cage while he was sleeping. He woke up confused, spying it in the corner of his enclosure and wondered why he'd been fed overnight. Where was his keeper? His mind jumped to the worst conclusions.
He found him inside the cart. Bound and gagged and looking terrified beyond all reason.
"Oh, Sunshine," he murmured.
His words had the opposite intended effect, his keeper starting to panic and writhe at the sound of his voice.
"Hey, hey... Calm down, okay? I'll get you out of there." He reached into the cart and picked him up in his hand.
Despite the circumstance, his heart soared. This was the closest they'd ever been.
The figure was tiny in his palm, and still struggling.
Wilbur quickly undid his bounds, being mindful of his sharp claws against the human's body. As soon as his hands were free, he was clawing at the gag around his mouth.
"Don't eat me! Please, do not eat me..."
Wilbur's stomach dropped.
"What? Sunshine, why would I eat you?"
The boy continued to sob.
Wilbur cupped him to his chest and headed towards the bars of his enclosure. He expertly clambered through and came out the other side, his skin exposed to the light for the first time in more than a year.
"Dear? Can you talk to me?" He stroked his head with his thumb and brought him eye level. "Why were you in my feeding cart?"
His keeper stared at him in shock, and it was then that he remembered his keeper had never truly seen him before.
A hot wave of embarassment and self consciousness overtook him.
He awkwardly set his little human on his table and receded back into his enclosure.
"Sunshine?" He prompted once back in his cage. "Are you..."
"Could - could you get out the whole time?"
Wilbur's mouth went dry. "I - well, yes, I could but - "
His keeper stumbled off the table and hit the ground with a nasty sounding crack.
Wilbur sprang to his claws and scrambled forward. He popped his head out between the bars and stared down at his little keeper. "Are you okay?"
The human stared up at him with terror on his face and scrambled backwards, running for the door.
"Shit, shit, wait, I'm sorry! Please stay, please, Sunshine - "
The door slammed behind him with a resounding crack and Wilbur flinched backwards.
~ ~ ~ 🕸
i used to love drider aus back in 2020 🕷️🕷️🕷️
just a freaky little guy whose half dude and half Fear. potential off the charts.
my tag list got lost when my computer was annihilated (</3) but let me know in replies if you want to get @'d and i'll make a new one
oh yeah link to the writing prompt and story i did fill out
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sheena-yuet · 1 year
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Sunshine
Awwww just look at themmmm
I always love the chemical of these two <33333 Like they treasure and protect each others.
I just can’t resist gt fluff scenes qwqqqqq
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I got a crime boii gt au. I have a rough idea (I wrote a main story plot. Yet I don’t have time to draw them outttt! Cuz I don’t think I’m a good writer so I want to draw the scenario to let u guys know what I imagine them in that au. Or maybe at last I just gave up I’ll just post the whole plot lol
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2-sleepy-for-this · 10 months
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One shot idea!!!! (cause more yes)
Neck cuddles.
That's it.
That's the prompt :3
hey beckyu! Here’s a lil oneshot for you, crimebois ofc :)
Thanks for the prompt and wow I haven’t written fluff in a bit (´∀`*)
Chilly cuddles
Tw ~ being cold, mentions of freezing, slight unintentional fearplay, feeling vulnerable, grabbing, Tommyinnit with a borrower
word count ~ 830
Wilbur sat in his home, shivering. The borrower hated how little insulation there was in the little space of the walls. He felt like he was freezing and it could have been his small size, or maybe the lack of fabric scraps he had other than a small blanket… he was usually somewhat prepared for things, but the sudden winter chill snuck up on him. 
He knew he’d have to get warm somehow before he froze… or at least felt very chilly all night.
The sudden yelling from the outside of the walls caught his attention, and he got an idea, a stupid idea, but one that would work. Wilbur needed to get Tommy’s attention, then once the easy part was done, convince him to fix his cold problem. 
Wilbur set out to one of the secret exit tunnels of his home, walking out into the open of Tommy’s bedroom. He’d never get over the feeling of being exposed out in the open, even after months of being friends with the human family in the house. 
Though unfortunately, Philza and Techno were out of the house, leaving him with only the gremlin child to help, that’s never a good thing for him or his sanity.
“Tommy!”
He yelled up at the human playing games on his PC. He had to yell a few more times before he was able to get Tommy’s attention. Tommy looked down, locking eyes with Wilbur immediately. An instinctual shiver ran up Wilbur’s spine that wasn’t from the cold, but he held his ground.
“Wil! What’s up, big man?”
Tommy smiled at him, moving off his chair to sit on the ground in front of the borrower. Wilbur smiled up at Tommy with a slight eye roll at the nickname.
“Hey toms, could you get me a blanket or something? It’s cold.”
Tommy took notice of how Wilbur trembled, hunched over slightly with his arms wrapped around his torso, trying to retain body heat, and took pity on him.
“Ha, you look miserable.”
Tommy laughed at his misery as usual before Wilbur was grabbed. Tommy’s smug face took up his vision as Wilbur sat in his open palm. He usually hated grabbing and would yell a bit in protest, but this time, the warmth was appreciated.
He was taken to the living room as Tommy walked, albeit unsteadily, through the hallway and sat on the couch, putting Wilbur down on a blanket. It felt soft underneath him and Wilbur immediately grabbed a part of it to wrap himself in, though the leftover chill of it sitting in the cold air without body heat left him feeling colder.
Back to shivering, Wilbur groaned in annoyance.
“Tommy! I’m gonna freeze!”
“Well excuse me, I’m doing my best, thank you very much.”
“I don’t need your snark right now, child.”
Wilbur got a deep sense of satisfaction at the offended gasp that left the human's mouth. Though as he was grabbed again, that feeling soured back to annoyance.
“How dare you! I am the biggest man ever!”
The borrower winced at the volume of the yell, along with how close he was to the source as he was brought in front of Tommy’s face. 
However, Wilbur realized how much warmer it was the closer he was to Tommy… so that was a plus. Then he had an idea.
“Toms! Hey!”
He yelled, getting Tommy’s attention and effectively silencing him. Tommy looked curious to what the typically soft-spoken borrower had to say.
“Can I just… lay on you for a bit?”
“..huh?”
“Like…”
Wilbur narrowed his eyes at Tommy, looking him over before stopping at a spot on his shoulder near the crook of his neck.
“There.”
He pointed at the spot. Tommy attempted to tilt his head to look at the spot, but found it was out of his eyesight, too close to his neck.
“Uh.. why?”
Tommy looked at him questioningly, genuinely confused at why the borrower wanted to be so close to him, despite Wilbur’s usual insistence on being left alone during his off days. 
“Because I’m cold! Freezing even! And you’re warm, you human furnace.”
Wilbur glared with no real heat behind in. He knew Tommy would give in since the human never stood up an opportunity to be near the borrower.
That seemed to convince Tommy as he let out a laugh at the fuming look Wilbur had on, then carefully, or as careful as Tommy can be, he was placed on Tommy’s shoulder. Wilbur immediately struggled for balance and scrambled to cling to his neck, sitting right between the human's neck and hoodie collar, now secure. 
The two spent the rest of the night like that, with Tommy actually settling down and watching a movie while feeling the borrower doze off against his neck. If he took a few selfies for himself that his tiny brother would be embarrassed about in the morning, then that was his own business.
————————
Hope you enjoyed that lil oneshot, honestly fluff isn’t so bad every once in a while… I can just give all my characters angst… cough our little brother cough cough something to remember…
:)
——————
tag list:
@i-am-beckyu
@da3dm
@lunar-but-little
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smimon · 1 year
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owo
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beansthough · 11 months
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Snake Charmer Oneshot
{The Thrill of the Chase}
Tw/Cw: vore, mouthplay, fear, fear of death, angst, hurt/comfort.
All was calm in the forest… until it wasn’t. Branches and bushes snapped and rustled as a beast going top speed closed in on his prey. The prey in question weren’t being any more quiet. Tubbo let out a crazed laugh as he zipped through the air. Ranboo right behind him, a little out of breath. Staying as close to Tubbo as they could without losing the blurred form of the bee.
“Get back here!” Ranboo would swear he could feel the Naga’s hot breath on his back, the hint of delight in the snake’s voice made the bat’s adrenaline shoot through the roof. They flapped their wings with a newfound burst of energy.
The Naga let out a frustrated growl and Ranboo and Tubbo let out loud shrieks of amusement as a clawed hand swiped in between them in the air.
Tubbo zipped away, leaving Ranboo scrambling away from the claws that we’re closing in without a leader to follow. “Tubbo! You can’t just leave me!” Ranboo growled out angrily. The bee snickered and gave a wave of his hand. “Too slow Boo! This is about survival!” The worker bee then shot away. Ranboo huffed angrily, to distracted by the traitorous bee to notice the two clawed hands coming to cup him from behind.
His world was surrounded by darkness as warm flesh was pressed firmly around him. The bat couldn’t help but squirm around under the pressure. They let out an angry groan and the hands loosened around him. He winced as the bright sunlight entered his vision suddenly.
“Aww Ranboo, thought you could get away?” Tommy’s grin was sharp but his eyes softened as he saw Ranboo’s irritated expression.
The bat huffed and crossed their arms. Refusing to meet Tommy’s gaze. “I was so close this time! If only Tubbo wasn’t so selfish! But no he just has to keep his perfect record!”
“Here,” Tommy raised his hand away from himself. “Do you wanna try again?” Ranboo sighed and shook his head. “Nah, that be like cheating… but make sure you make Tubbo pay for it, okay? Even if you don’t catch him.” The bat smiled and stood up from his sitting position. “Besides I think this is the farthest I’ve gotten so far.”
“If you say so.” Tommy picked up Ranboo by the scruff and dangled him over is open maw. “And don’t worry, Tubbo’s gonna get what’s coming to him.” Tommy’s face formed a mischievous expression and Ranboo gave a nervous laugh. “Nothing too bad right?” The snake only gave a cheeky smile before plopping Ranboo down in the warm cavern that was him mouth, mindful of avoiding his fangs.
In just one gulp he sent his friend down to his storage. He purred happily at the feeling of the small weight in his gut.
“Don’t worry Ranboo, today’s the day I’ll finally catch him. I can feel it.”
Now time for some good old fashion revenge. Tubbo had gotten away one to many times, and Tommy had the perfect plan to bring his rain of tyranny to an end.
———————————————————————————
Tubbo had landed on a branch to rest, breathing deep and heavy as he caught his breath. Ranboo’s Sacrifice always gave him a little chance to rest, felt a little bit go guilt for leaving his friend. He just had to make it back to the village and he was home free.
He had yet to lose a single match. Always flying away the last second. It was invigorating, it was daring, and it was honestly a little terrifying.
Sure Tubbo had been stored before, and heck! He had even willing crawled into Tommy’s mouth the first time they met.
But this was….
The chase made it like is was serious. Tubbo’s instincts wouldn’t comprehend that they were playing. His tiny bee body was screaming life or death. He had even accidentally stung Tommy one of the other times they had grabbed him out of the air.
He had gotten away, but with the price of Tommy being upset at him for a week. He had tried to down play it, but guilt ate away at his heart.
Besides, how was he supposed to tell one of his best friends that he was scared of him. Well he wasn’t really scared of him.
His instincts were.
When the 8ft behemoth would come charging out of the trees, his claws sharp, and teeth bared. It would sometimes shake Tubbo to his core, but it was also one of the most exciting sights that Tubbo could experience.
The thrill of the chase was almost addicting. The adrenaline rush made Tubbo feel on top of the world, but then he would forget that it was just a game.
Then it was about survival.
But he could never tell Tommy about this. He couldn’t. The bee remembered every hurt look when the other villagers would whisper and give nervous glances. He remembered the tears that trailed down after the Naga had confided in Tubbo of some of the remarks that were being said about him.
He couldn’t do that to Tommy.
So here he was, sprinting as fast as he could towards the village. As long as Tommy didn’t catch him, he could avoid his problems. For now he could enjoy the chase.
A sharp cry suddenly called out from the forest, freezing Tubbo in his tracks. That was Tommy…
It sounded like he was hurt.
The bee burst into action, going to the aid of his friend. What if he was in trouble? Was Ranboo alright? Were there hunters?
Another cry of pain and Tommy calling out Tubbo’s name. He had to be hurt.
“Tommy where are you?!” He flung leaves out of his path as he flew frantically through the trees, desperately searching for a sign of either of his friends.
“Tubbo, I’m here!”
There. He had pinpointed the sound.
Tubbo barreled out of the tree line and into a dark cramped clearing. The forest was so dense that no sunlight dared to enter this part of the wood. He hovered in center, confused by the sudden lack of calls for help. Now that he had time to process their was a lack of any sound at all.
A deep routed fear, something primal, buzzed around in his gut. Something was off.
“Tommy?” Tubbo barely managed to peep out. Like the darkness that choked out the light, he found his own voice was consumed by the fear of the dark and all that lurked within it.
Nothing replied.
Tubbo took a shaky breath. He closed his eyes tightly, wishing all of this to be some kind of messed up dream. Maybe he flew smack into a branch while running from Tommy, and he was actually currently passed out in the medical clinic.
He peaked through the slits of his eyes. A red glow illuminated the outside of his small quivering form in the darkness, like a sick twisted version of a silver lining.
Even more confusion filled Tubbo’s mind before a low and sinister hiss shook him to his very core. His stomach dropped all the way down to the forest floor below.
He turned his body as fast as he dared. Every second felt like hours as he finally spun around to reveal the horror that lurked in the dark.
White fangs glinted red as the eerie glow from slit eyes reflected off of the wet surface. The eyes were squinted in delight, like they found a dark satisfaction in seeing their prey cornered.
“Found you.”
Tubbo couldn’t even scream.
The white jaws parted in less than a second, far wider than they needed to. The beast lunged forwards and all the bee could do was stare helplessly at his fate.
Tubbo shrieked as warm wet walls pressed down on him on every side. The pressure increased slightly before it released its hold.
He laid disoriented in a jumbled mess. His wings laid heavy with saliva. There was no chance to fly.
His breathing increased to panicky little breaths, he struggled to stand, then instead tried to crawl to the open of where he entered.
The floor underneath him lifted once more, but instead of being pushed to the roof of the mouth, Tubbo found himself laid upon a hard pointed surface.
Tubbo gasped as he realized he was laid between the beasts sharp teeth. He desperately tried to move out of the way, but the snakes forked tongue kept him in place.
A yelp of terror left his mouth as the jaw beneath him raised to meet the teeth above.
Instead of being crushed or pierced by the sharp bones, he was simply squeezed between them, roughly, but not enough to do any real damage.
A warning then, to show what this monster was truly capable of.
Tubbo struggle to get out of the beast unclenching hold, even trying to sting, but missing anything he could actually pierce.
Exhausted from his struggling he laid limp between the beds of teeth. A amused chuckle bellowed form the depths of the beast.
It was laughing at his misery…
That would usually make Tubbo angry. He couldn’t take anyone mocking him or his work, one wrong word and he would let his anger consume him.
Now he felt hollow despair, trapped and unable to fight.
He didn’t even realize that tears were pouring down his face until a harsh broken sob left his mouth.
The world went still and another sob made itself known.
The pressure around him released immediately.
The bee was met in the outside world once more. This time in a much more well lit area. The cool breeze made his wings shiver subconsciously, his small frame layered in spit.
Sobs now poured out of his mouth, he didn’t register the naga worriedly asking if he was alright or if he was hurt. His also didn’t notice the seemingly one sided conversation that the snake was having with himself.
The bee just curled up into a ball and let the tears roll down his face.
———————————————————————————
Tommy didn’t know what was wrong. At first he thought Tubbo was playing a trick, a flip on what he did to get the bee to be lured back to him.
But as Tubbo just lay there, eyes squeezed shut and no response except for the occasion choked sob, he realized that this definitely wasn’t an act.
He immediately asked for Ranboo’s aid, the small bat had been sitting concerned in the Naga’s stomach as he heard Tommy trying his best to comfort the bee.
Ranboo soon found himself traveling upwards and suddenly outside on Tommy’s other palm. He was immediately brought to a crumpled up Tubbo.
The bee shrunk into himself as Ranboo approached. The bat put a hand on his shoulder and Tubbo whimpered. Tommy let out a nervous hiss and lowered the pair to the ground.
Ranboo pulled the bee into a one way hug as the insect laid limp in his hold.
Tommy seemed to shrink back as well, trying his best to blend into the forest around him as guilt and confusion filled his mind.
He had stored Tubbo countless times before and the bee always seemed thrilled about the notion, but now Tommy was unsure.
Was Tubbo actually always afraid of him?
Or did he actually hurt the bee and didn’t realize it?
He though he was being gentle, he had only put him between his teeth to tease, and they had roughhoused like that before…
But what if he was actually to ruff this time?
Would Tubbo hate him for it?
Tommy’s panicked thinking was interrupted by a quiet “oh gods…” and two small coughs that followed.
His eyes focused back on the pair on the ground. Ranboo rubbing small circles on Tubbo’s back as the bee seemed to find himself again.
Then Tommy’s hurt eyes met Tubbo’s own.
Tommy went to speak, but before he could the bee beat him to it.
———————————————————————————
Tubbo finally came back to himself with the rhythmic circling on his back and the soft whispered words in his ears.
That was Ranboo… they were alright, and so was he?
Confusion clouded his mind, the last thing he remembered was looking for Tommy and then he was ambushed by…..
He was ambushed by….
“Oh gods….” He choked on this own words, his voice sore from crying.
This is exactly why he would never let Tommy catch him.
His instincts took over and he lost it…
And now Tommy knew that a part of Tubbo was still scared of him.
He could already see the hurt on the Naga’s face, and it made Tubbo’s throat burn with sorrow.
The naga opened his mouth, but Tubbo quickly cut his off.
“I’m sorry!” That seemed to Surprise the snake as well at the Bat next to him.
“Are you injured?” Ranboo ignored the outbursted apology, and looked on in bewilderment and concern.
Tubbo shook his head, “I’m fine.” He said with a sigh.
He turned back to Tommy and stood to his feet.
The snake finally found his words.
“No, I’m sorry! I took it way too far.. I should’nt have tricked you like that. I’m sorry I scared you” Tommy adverted his game from Tubbo’s hold.
“I’m not scared of you Tommy!” Tubbo groaned. “We’ll maybe a little sometimes, but only subconsciously!” That didn’t seem to help much. Tubbo huffed.
“I didn’t want you to find out like this… I wanted to tell you but I couldn’t build up the courage. Or it was my pride that was in the way.”
“Tubbo if your uncomfortable being around me, I get it. I mean I know how some of the other villagers-”
“ACK!” The bee cut him off. “Tommy I’m not uncomfortable and I’m definitely not like those other jerks at the village. I just-”
Tommy looked at Tubbo with uncertainty, it made the Bee ache.
“I just get to caught up in the chase… my instincts take over and I forget that well… that it’s you that’s chasing me…”
“Oh…” Tommy muttered out. Ranboo stood up from Tubbo’s side and dusted off his knees.
“We’ll the good thing is that we know now.” Ranboo stated. “We just need to learn to talk things out.”
The snake and the bee nodded. “Everyone struggles with instincts every now and again. But we can help make the struggle better by accommodating to them and avoiding certain triggers.” The bat continued.
“So now we know to talk about what we’re struggling with to the whole group, before it gets to us.” Tubbo looked embarrassed and Tommy awkward. Ranboo let out an amused laugh.
Tommy finally slithered his way back to the group and lowered his plan back to the ground. Tubbo crawled on without hesitation. “Tubbo, I just want you to know that if you need to tell me something, even if it might hurt my feelings, tell me.” Tommy deadpanned and the bee gave a nervous laugh.
“Sorry Toms…” Tubbo buzzed an apology. He shook off his wings and buzzed to Tommy’s head, bumping his own to Tommy’s.
“Y’know Wilbur was scared around me too at first.” Tommy leaned a little more against the small bee, like a cat seeking affection.
“Really?!” Tubbo exclaimed. “Did you make him cry?” The Bee smirked.
“What do you think?” Tommy grinned and Tubbo let out a mischievous laugh. “Oh, I’m never gonna let him live this down!” He Cackled.
“Oh yeah? What about you then Bee Boy?” Tommy questioned . “I’m sure Techno and Wilbur would love to hear about how you being to competitive led to your own downfall.” The Naga teased.
“You wouldn’t!” Tubbo exclaimed face growing red.
Tommy gave a sly smile. “Maybe I would.”
Ranboo let out a disappointed sigh as the pair began to bicker and race back to the village, all that had happened already pushed behind them.
Ranboo grabbed hold of Tommy’s golden locks and enjoyed the ride as Tubbo chased behind them.
They’d be having a serious talk about this later, and unlike Tommy, Ranboo most definitely would be telling the Naga’s older brothers what had occurred.
If anything it would help the group to come up with healthy solutions to their problems with instincts, especially with some older experienced adults.
It also wouldn’t hurt to let them know about how to help their little brother and friends.
But for now Ranboo just took a deep breath and laughed alongside his friends. Relishing in their unusual bond of friendship, no matter what problems they faced, the world couldn’t seem to keep them apart.
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brick-a-doodle-do · 1 year
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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
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skullsnbruises · 9 months
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whoops! trauma.
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cyncerity · 6 months
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Any AU
Someone- "Tubbo where's Tommy?"
Tubbo who making Tommy rest- "No idea :D"
Tommy who is resting peacefully- "Zzz"
-Plant
HI PLANT TY
man it’s been a while since i posted anything about the Sizeshifter Tommy au, but i checked and I have literally no other aus where Tubbo can nom Tommy cause this is the only one where he’s not a tiny. Wild. Anyway-
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i almost never draw big prey for how much i like the overstuffed pred trope, so here’s some big prey Tommy cause he’s got a bad habit of shifting in his sleep lol
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dingbatnix · 4 months
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I've dropped off the radar for longer than I'd like, so have a sketch! He's teaching Tommy how to read and write. And being interrupted, whoops. Tommy better hide quickly : D
Taglist: @brick-a-doodle-do @i-am-beckyu @da3dm @kayla-crazy-stuffs @local-squishmallow @skullsnbruises @munchkin1156 @gt-daboss
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i-am-beckyu · 9 months
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One Small Gift
HELLO! I TOLD YOU I'D POST ONE MORE FIC THIS YEAR! And I am very proud of myself for making it a Christmas centered fic! I can't believe it's actually been a year since I last posted a Christmas fic. Like where did the time go and how did this thing spawn?
I'm gonna ramble a bit more at the bottom of this fic about me and the community but lets not hold you up any longer so I give you: The Christmas Fic- One Small Gift :3
cw: fear, death mention (but no actual death), lying, panic and anxiety, fluff- Like, ALOT of Fluff, hidden identity and of course happy endings. You know, the usual angst/fluffy Beckyu fic :3 word count: 8351
Disclaimer! This story is based on the characters of the Dream SMP and not the real life content creators. Anything that occurs in this story is purely fiction and should be treated as such. Thank you.
.。❅*⋆⍋*∞*。*∞*⍋⋆*❅。.
Cold
Why did the walls always have to be so damn cold? 
Tommy’s mind couldn’t help but linger on the thought, as the Borrower shivered making his way through the maze that was the inside the house walls.
Human Beans invented heaters AGES ago for the insides of their houses to keep warm, so how was it that the inside of the walls were still always so flippen freezing? 
Would it kill them to think of the little guy freezing their butt off just once?
Well no, maybe not. But it certainly would Tommy. 
As much as the young blonde would love to cuss at the home owner for not giving him a proper source of heat, the Borrowers code quite literally FORBID them from ever telling a Human of their existence. Not to forget the fact that it would mean doom for a borrower if they ever did. All the horror stories of Borrowers being squished or experimented on from the elders to go off being proof enough.
Death by Human Beans?
HA! Absolutely NOT!
That’s exactly the reason why he is trying to get supplies for the Winter to warm himself up, before it gets even colder! 
Tommy grumbled to himself as he ducked and weaved past forgotten cobwebs about how it was such a pain to be in this position in the first place. He’d had a perfectly fine home in a tree nook in the forest that had always remained nice and cosy warm during the colder months. 
Even if that meant he’d been living on his own, Tommy had been happy living as an Outie borrower for as long as he could remember. Well at least he had, before some tall, pretentious brunette freak decided his home would be the perfect tree to cut down and drag all the way back to his stupid freezing cold house. 
But it gets better, because even though the main part of his home was actually still intact under the now stump, the Bean still took the top half of the tree- 
With Tommy still inside it! 
They flippen took HIS house and wrapped it in a net; effectively trapping the poor borrower and then strapped it to the top of their car and drove hours and hours to a Human Town with him hanging on for dear life.
And that’s not even the worst part because not only did the flippen Bean steal part of his house, but then they had the audacity to cover the tree's dying corpse in fancy decorations and shining lights. 
Like seriously WTF?!
A Bean kidnaps him from the only place he’s ever really known and covers his once thriving residence all merrily in ornaments, while he’s forced to flee his only real known place of safety with nothing but the clothes on his back, and the few supplies he did have stored in the upper levels of his now dying home. He hadn’t wanted to leave, but it was the only choice he really had. 
Stay in the tree and get caught, or try and survive in the Beans' walls until Winter passes.
He chose the latter of course- (It’s not like staying would have helped him anyways) 
Getting down from the top of the tree had been, well- less than a fun time for the Borrower. The big purple bruises across his back were a throbbing reminder from his impact on the floor at times, but he managed. 
Instead, Tommy had started to navigate his temporary ‘soon to be home’ in the walls getting an idea of the layout and where the best places were to borrow from. He just had to make it through the Winter and then he could go home. Trying to get back to his nook now would be impossible with all the snow cover on the ground, but he’d get back to the forest even if it killed him.
Which might be the case soon if he doesn’t get some new clothes and heat source quick.
That was the main issue with being kidnapped after all. You only have what’s on your back and well, Tommy hadn’t exactly been expecting to get yoinked away in his scrappy T-Shirt and shorts. He had proudly made them himself with the few scraps of fabric he’d managed to find from some Beans that had been passing through years ago on a camping trip, but the fabric was light, and not made to be worn in such cold conditions. 
He’d only meant to go up and check what the heck the loud thumping outside his tree was like any normal person. He was expecting a deer or maybe a bear using it as a scratching post, not a Bean cutting their house down and taking him along with it. You don’t exactly have time to think about putting on proper clothing when your everything is at stake.
So that was step one: Find some material and make some clothes- a jacket the top priority.
Tommy is very thankful that he had his borrowing bag on him, that he still has his self made needle and some old thread so he at least didn’t have to start from nothing. Finding the material hadn’t been too difficult to locate either. When he first scouted the place, he discovered pretty quickly that the Bean had a habit of leaving stuff all over the place, so borrowing supplies hadn’t been difficult to do without being noticed. It’s how he found the most perfect fluffy woollen red sock to make a coat and blanket from. He would already have it now though if the Bean hadn’t come back before he could swipe it.
The Borrower had tried to come back for it later, but the Bean had decided it was time to clean their room up because he had some guests coming for this thing called ‘Chris-mass’- whatever that was- and the sock was gone.
So instead he grabbed what he could and made his way back to the walls with just enough fabric to make a new pair of pants and some crackers for dinner.
But it still didn’t fix the whole freezing situation.
What Tommy really needed was a candle. 
To a Human Bean it may seem to be an insignificant source of light, but to a Borrower it could literally be the difference between a warm nights sleep and becoming a Borrower popsicle! But that was easier said then done because all the usual spots Beans would normally keep candles, were replaced with flippen electric ones!!!! 
What’s wrong with fire on candles!? Why would you want a fake candle that just flickers and produces less light than a real one?
That or something for a bed. At least that way he’d have a comfortable place to sleep and trap his own body heat.
He really wishes he could have taken those socks…
As if this Bean wasn’t bad enough, not only did they lack the materials Tommy so desperately needed, but they wouldn’t shut up talking into the black box (a fone he thinks it’s called from memory) to other Beans with how excited they were about them coming to stay for the Hole-lid-days and spend time huddled together by the fire or something dumb. 
“Come on Dad! Let me host. If you let me host, I’ve got the coolest surprise planned for you and Techno I swear!! Plus don’t you want to come and see me?” 
Lucky prick. Got a Dad and a brother…
Now don’t get him wrong, Tommy is a big man, if not the biggest man to ever exist and he doesn’t need anyone. But he also couldn’t help but long for someone to share the cold season with like the Beans did. It had been so long since he’d seen another Borrower like himself and though he’d never admit it, living alone did get a little bit lonely sometimes. It would be nice if just once he could share a night cuddled up close to a loved one, and just bask in each other’s company. 
But Tommy didn’t have time to be sentimental about things he’d likely never have.
He needed to find a way to stay warm and get warm now.
But the universe decidedly hated Tommy because, tonight was apparently December 24th-
Chrisymiss Eve.
Tommy had been here about a week or so and in his short stay still wasn’t 100% sure what this whole Khrislermas was, but it appeared to be a BIG deal to the Beans. 
Apparently, all the Beans get together whether it’s family or friends to spend time together and exchange gifts. It’s about being thankful for what you have or whatever and something about showing how much you love someone by giving and receiving presents. 
Tommy thought it was actually quite a nice thing the Beans did and wished that Borrowers had something similar themselves in their culture. However, there was one thing he still didn’t quite understand about this whole holiday thing.
Who the heck is Santa Claus?
He’d been taking some more crackers the Bean had left out from the kitchen while this ‘tv show’ played on the Bean's big Black box that was talking about this Santa guy. Apparently, he was some elusive, big fat man, dressed all in red with a big white bushy beard, who climbed down the Beans chimneys, and left gifts for all the little boys and girls of the world. He had this list too that knew if you’d been naughty or nice and would leave the good children gifts and the bad children coal in their stockings. 
Children could write letters to Santa or he’d visit and children could sit on his knee and ask him for a gift they would like and he would deliver the toys to children all over the world on Christmas eve when everyone was sleeping, only to have disappeared by daybreak.
Tommy hadn’t thought much of this Santa at first- not when it was just another Bean to avoid. That was until he learned two very important details.
1- Santa delivered presents to ALL children of the world. 
And 2- Santa wasn’t meant to be seen by Humans either.
So not only did this Santa guy literally just give out free gifts, but Tommy literally had a way to get exactly what he needed for the winter!
All he needed to do was talk to Santa and he’d be saved! 
Now you might be thinking: But Tommy, you said it yourself. Santa isn’t meant to be seen by anyone so what makes you the exception? 
Simple.
Borrowers aren’t meant to be seen by Beans and neither is Santa.
Which means just like Borrowers, Santa must not want to be caught (which if he thinks too hard about it makes sense since he literally breaks into houses but anyways) and unlike with Beans, there is no rule that says Borrowers can’t see Santa!
All he has to do is wait for Santa to visit Crystamas eve, and then he can ask for his gift! Santa probably even knows what he wants, being made of magic and all! He just never knew Santa existed so he’s never asked for his gift before! 
If he were a more greedy Borrower, he could ask for so much more to make up for all the years he never got a gift, but that would probably put him on Santa’s naughty list. And while coal would be good, Tommy doesn’t exactly want to burn the house down with him inside it. So this was his best shot to get exactly what he needed. 
The hard bit though, was waiting for Santa to arrive. That meant not only having to be out in the living room where the fireplace was, but also meant he had to wait for the Bean to fall asleep. Which really meant that it would be AGES before Santa would come because the Bean of the house was terrible at sleeping at night. 
The man literally had no sleep schedule and would stay up till terrible times in the morning before drifting off. Normally that wasn’t much of an issue for the Borrower having observed this early on, but right now it was very much a hindrance because it could be hours before they went to bed. 
It also seemed that they wouldn’t be sleeping anytime soon, because the amount of energy and excitement the Bean had displayed the whole day about his family coming home was overwhelming. He’d come home at one stage with this big bag of stuff talking on the black box about how his super cool surprise was coming along and how it would be awesome since they let him host Chrimpmas- whatever that meant. 
Tommy had hoped with the excitement of the holiday they’d have been ready to pass out by now, but he couldn’t be more wrong with the amount of commotion he could hear from down the hall- and that’s through the walls. 
At least he could observe everything going on from his place on the bookshelf. It was right next to a small crack in the wall he could just squeeze through, but it gave him a good view of the living room but also enough cover from prying eyes unless he made his presence known. However, being out of the walls had one difference the blonde hadn’t accounted for.
Heat.
The fire had been lit and was keeping the whole room nice and toasty warm compared to the harsh bite the walls somehow managed to keep. The whole atmosphere made him almost want to curl up and fall asleep. It had been so long since he’d been able to just enjoy the warmth in the air and not be shivering to keep alive.
Perhaps it wouldn’t hurt if he had a nap before Santa arrived.
Just a quick one….
.。❅*⋆⍋*∞*。*∞*⍋⋆*❅。.
Tommy was awoken to a rather loud THUNK as the Borrower shot up from where he had fallen asleep atop the shelf. 
It took the blonde a moment to realise where he was and not panic about being out in the open before his eyes settled upon a figure. 
Sprawled out across the floor in a heap of red and white was the jolly big man himself.
Santa Claus.
The one and only.
“Santa!” Tommy yelled excitedly as he hurriedly manoeuvred to stand. “Santa you came!”
Santa’s head snapped up from the floor alarmed, as they pushed themselves to stand and take a defensive stance.
“Who said that?!” they shouted, looking around wildly panicked. “Show yourself!”
Tommy giggled to himself. Santa was so silly. 
“Up here Santa! I’ve been waiting for you.” The blonde waved as the man's head turned and their eyes fell onto his small form. 
Tommy grinned at the magical man taking him all in. 
Just like the figure on the big black box, Santa wore a big red coat with white fluff lining the ends of his sleeves. A big black belt was strapped around their waist, fastened with a fancy golden buckle and sturdy black boots on their feet to keep out the snow. Their head was adorned with an oversized big red hat, with a giant white fluffy pom pom on the end, and they had a long white beard that travelled down their chest. And last but not least was a pair of gold rimmed glasses perched on the tip of their rosy red nose which accentuated their big brown eyes that were staring at him in wonder. 
Huh. 
He could have sworn that Santa's eyes were blue.
“I can’t believe you came! I wasn’t sure if you would since I never sent a letter but you must have known anyway cause here you are!” The little borrower stated excitedly as Santa removed his glasses, and rubbed his eyes in disbelief. 
“I’m so glad you’re here! I really need my Crimpmess present.” 
“I’m sorry you’re what?” the man’s eyes furrowed in confusion as they processed what the younger had said.
“My present!.” Tommy rolled his eyes. “You know, the whole reason why you’re here.”
Santa didn’t exactly seem like he knew what was going on. Right now all he was doing was staring and Tommy was getting a bit annoyed. 
Was that not why Santa was here? To deliver his present like the show had said?
Tommy huffed annoyed he had to explain all this. Wasn’t this like his job? He should know!
“I’m sorry,” Santa began slowly as if trying to process. “I didn’t actually know you were here.”
“Why else would you have come then?” Tommy crossed his arms unimpressed. “I’m the only kid here, but don’t tell anyone else I said that. I’m a big man! The biggest ever!”
This finally seemed to warrant a different reaction from the older, as they looked the boy up and down unimpressed by this so-called ‘fact’.
“A big man huh? You look more like a child. What are you- 12?”
Tommy feigned a gasp, grasping his chest offendedly. “I’ll have you know I’m 14 and the biggest man alive! I’m only a child for the purpose of getting my gift tonight and tonight only!”
Santa couldn’t stifle a laugh as he watched as the small child stomped his foot in a mini tantrum at being called 12. It was endearing in a way but he still wasn’t sure how to proceed with a tiny child standing on their bookshelf.
“Well whatever you say I guess, but I still I didn’t know you were here.”
The blonde shrugged before moving closer to the shelfs edge. “Ah well it doesn’t matter. You’re here now so I’d like my gift please! You have it right?” 
“If I didn’t know you were here, then how would I have your present with me?” Santa asked.
Well he did make a good point. It’s not like he sent Santa a letter and he hadn't met him to tell him like other human bean children had until now. 
“Oh right. Guess I better come sit on your knee and tell you what I’d like than.” Tommy stated matter of factly, as the small Borrower moved to the edge of the shelf and stabbed his hook into the wood, quickly jumping off to descend on his rope to the ground.
“Wait, DON’T DO THAT!” 
The blonde yelped in surprise, moving instinctually to protect his ears at the sheer volume the man shouted, in turn losing his grip on his rope, quickly plummeting down to the ground below. Santa lunged forward with an outstretched hand as the boy slipped down the rope at a rapid speed, catching him before any real harm could be done. He semi slammed into the wall, clutching his hand to his chest as they did so before quickly unfurling their hand.
“Oh my prime! Kid- kid are you alright?” Santa said frantically checking over the boy he now held in his palm. 
Tommy shook his head, dizzy from the sudden force that had rammed into him only moments ago. He tried to steady himself grabbing, onto the nearest thing his hand could find as he begun to regain his bearings.
Oh he was going to ache tomorrow…
“As soon as the world stops spinning, yeah.”
Santa sighed in relief as Tommy allowed himself to regain focus. It was then that he really took note of where he was. 
Normally, if a Borrower was sitting in the hand of someone almost 100x his size, he would be kicking and screeching to get away. But this was Santa Claus’s hand and Tommy felt only wonder. 
It was like nothing he’d ever experienced before. The thing he had grabbed onto was apparently Santa’s thumb and it was almost as big as his head! Even if it was a bit weird sitting on the leathery texture of their skin, the warmth radiating beneath him was heavenly, and the way the man’s fingers curled slightly over him protectively felt nothing but comforting. 
Santa hadn’t moved since he caught Tommy mid air, and was staring at Tommy as if they would disappear. They seemed stuck on what to do next, but also amazed he was sitting there at all.
“You alright there big man?” Tommy raised a brow confused at why the man would act this way. Santa was literally made of magic and had flying reindeer for goodness sake! A borrower existing surely was no cause for such amazement? There were surely way more interesting magical things to see than a lowly Borrower like him. 
(But then again, he was a pretty poggers Borrower if he did so say that himself, so staring could be justified for that reason)
This finally snapped the old man out of their wondrous stupor, as they squinted their eyes open and shut with a quick shake of their head. 
“Uh yep. All good um. Let's- go sit down. Yeah- yeah, let's do that.” Santa said, confirming more to themself than Tommy.
Santa brought the boy protectively to their chest to brace them before they moved away from the book shelf, smoothly walking over to the couch where the old man sat down ever so slowly to not jostle their small passenger. The second they were bending down to sit though, Tommy was launching himself off Santa’s palm for his knee as the bearded man frantically tried to stop them in their escapade.
“Kid, would you stop doing that? You’re going to hurt yourself!”
“Pfft please. This is nothing compared to how I got down from that tree over there.” The boy grinned as they pointed to the far corner of the living room.
The man's head followed to where the boy was pointing, the Christmas tree displayed proudly in a large pot tied with a red bow, small lights flickering on and off in changing patterns.
“Tree? You mean the Christmas tree?”
“Yep!” Tommy stood proudly popping the p. “I had to get down somehow and my hook would have gotten stuck in amongst the branches if I had tried to abseil down. So I did what any logical Borrower would do and jumped.”
“You jumped?!” Santa’s eyes widened, as he looked back and forth between the boy and the top of the brightly decorated tree. He grimaced, imagining the boy throwing themselves from the upper branches like they had done only moments before onto his knee. 
What was with this kid and being so reckless?!
“You jumped from the top of the Christmas tree!? Why were you even there in the first place?”
Tommy rolled his eyes, crossing their arms in front of their chest. 
“It’s all that stupid Beans fault.”He huffed annoyed. “He just came waltzing into MY forest, decided to be very rude and put their grubby hands all over MY house wrapping it up in some ugly net, only to cut it down with me still in it!”
Tommy didn’t notice the way Santa’s brows furrowed and their expression changed to one of horror as he continued to ramble on.
“They literally kidnapped me, Santa! They’re so lucky that the main part of my house is under the tree’s trunk and not the higher branches because I swear I would have murdered that Bean in their sleep by now if they had!”
Tommy was very pleased to have finally gotten to vent some of his frustrations to someone other than his internal self, but now he was finished he had a good chance to register the other’s reaction.
Santa looked horrified.
His eyes seemed glossed over as if he was holding back tears, and one hand slapped over their mouth, the other gripping their wrist tightly in an attempt to ground themselves. 
Uh shit. He hadn’t meant for that to happen…
“Uh but don’t worry Santa!” Tommy was quick to add. “ I wouldn’t actually do that. That would be a bad thing to do and put me on the Naughty list! I promise I won’t actually murder anyone!” 
Phew, that was a close one. He couldn’t jeopardise his only hope with a silly joke!
Santas’ face had yet to change and Tommy subconsciously started to fidget feeling nervous to how the older was reacting. Maybe he had blown it and now he was on the naughty list. Another glance at the old man's face seemed to confirm those fears.
He’d blown it.
His one shot at survival and he practically threw it all away with a vent. No wonder he ended up all alone.
“Please don’t put me on the Naughty list Santa. I need my gift.” Tommy spoke timidly. “I didn’t mean it.”
“I- no. No you’re not on the Naughty list.” Santa dragged his hands over his eyes a few times strained. “I'm just trying to process. It’s more of the whole kidnapping thing. ” 
If Tommy had been paying better attention, he may have noticed the few stray brown curls poking out from under the man's hat, but he was more thrown by their following question as the magical man continued on.
“If you were in the tree, why didn’t you say anything?”
Tommy drew a deep breath, before sighing as the boy shoved his hands into his pockets.
“Because Santa, Beans aren’t supposed to know that Borrowers like me even exist.”
“Beans?”
“Human Beans Santa. You know, big people like you, but not magical and stuff.” The Borrower explained. “There’s no way I could tell the dumb Bean he was cutting my house down! Do you know what Beans do to Borrowers like me?” 
“Um no?” Santa fiddled with his hands as he looked away, eyes downcast to avoid the youngers gaze as they continued.
“They get rid of us. To them we’re just pests or things to be used.”
Tommy hugged himself tightly, anxiety pooling in his chest for the first time that night. He wished it wasn’t true, but Beans just held far too much power for their own good. Their greed often outweighing their need to do good without reward. 
“I’d rather risk jumping out of a tree than ever fall into the clutches of a Bean.” 
“But how do you know that?” Santa suddenly said, muscles tensing as they clenched their hand into fists. 
Tommy flinched at the sight of hands so close. Closed so tightly that he couldn’t help let slip the thought of himself in the mercy of their grasp, begging to be freed like all the stories had said of the Borrowers trapped in agonising pain. The man noticed his discomfort, and immediately loosened their fists, moving their hands away and under their thighs so as to not startle the boy any further than they already had.
“Sorry. I didn’t mean to scare you.” Santa said with a sense of guilt.  “But I just- How do you know that though? Who says that they would have hurt you if you had just made your presence known? You wouldn’t have had to jump or gotten hurt.”
Santa turned away sheepishly, whispering sadly. “They could have helped you.” 
Tommy swallowed hard, his shoulders sagging as he observed the sad look Santa had as they stared at the Christmas tree. It was obvious they were blaming themself for what had happened. He was far too kind for that.
“Santa, it’s not your fault.” the boy sighed, “Every borrower is taught this from birth. It’s a known fact that Beans are all cruel, power hungry beings. They always want more and just take, take, take.”  
“But what if this ‘Bean’ didn’t know.” Santa shot back, causing the Borrower to falter. “What if you had said something? They would have stopped and left you and your house alone? How do you know they wouldn’t have helped you?”
“Because Santa,” Tommy turned and faced the man head on. “That’s just how Beans are. To them, we're just another thing to take and control.” 
Tommy wanted to believe Santa, he really did, but it was hard to just ignore years of being brought up to beware Human Beans and their cruelty. He’d seen it even from when Beans had once come into the forest with their fire sticks, and took down a friendly deer. It was unnecessarily cruel and was all the convincing Tommy needed to deem all Humans bad.
Santa nodded sadly in some kind of understanding, but Tommy couldn’t understand why Santa looked so hurt. It wasn’t his fault the Bean took him and his home, but he seemed so convinced that hiding and not asking for help had been the wrong thing to do. 
He thought they were the same, that if Beans caught him on Christmas Eve, then something bad would happen to him like it would for Borrowers. That’s why they had to stay a secret. Why no one could know they were here. 
But Santa wasn’t a Borrower who lived in hiding unknown. The Beans knew about the jolly, present giving man that only appeared in December. 
He could live among the Beans and it would be fine if he asked for help. Everyone liked Santa. He didn’t take things just to survive. He gave toys and gifts so he would have no worries about the repercussions of taking a paperclip just to get around. He wouldn’t have to worry about Beans hurting him if something went wrong. He would just use his magic and be fine.
It was Santa’s choice to stay hidden as an extra precaution to protect that same magic. 
“But you’re different from the Beans Santa.” The boy perked up instantly remembering why he was doing this in the first place. “You only come out of hiding at Christmas and everyone knows who you are! You only hide to keep your magic safe from Beans so they can’t have that too!” 
The man gave a small smile as the boy continued to ramble, pacing back and forth on his thigh as he did so.
“But I don’t understand why you give children presents when they already have so much!” Tommy stopped, his lips pursed together as his voice dropped to a whisper.
“Unlike me.” He confessed quietly, lifting his head to meet Santa’s sympathetic gaze. 
Santa was staring at the young boy again, leaned forward in concern listening as the blonde  continued to share his story.
“It's why I need my gift Santa.” Tommy wringed his hands together with a nervous glance to see Santa’s reaction who nodded in approval, gesturing for him to continue. 
Tommy steadied himself.
Now or never.
“I was brought here with basically nothing. Forced to move into the Beans walls or risk being seen. I’ve barely been able to get anything for basic survival and the walls are freezing!” 
Tommy shivered remembering the way the air had nipped at his nose as he struggled to keep warm. Clutching himself tightly in a poor attempt to retain any kind of body heat. The one time he went up stairs without his coat and of course he gets kidnapped.
He needed this. 
More than anything.
.。❅*⋆⍋*∞*。*∞*⍋⋆*❅。.
Wilbur had just wanted to have the perfect Christmas.
It was his first time hosting and had decided he HAD to go all out.
More decorations than his little house needed both inside and out, homemade hot chocolate from scratch and had promised his Father and brother a very special Christmas surprise if they let him host.
Their first ever living Christmas tree and a surprise visit from the Big man himself- Santa Claus.
He’d done a bunch or research into the best spots to go where he could get a tree and quickly had been recommended from several sites about the fir trees in Logstedshire, and quickly made the trip out to find a tree.
What the websites failed to mention, was that said fir trees might be inhabited and the home of tiny people that are terrified of Human Beings. 
So if you asked: No, Wilbur was not having a good night realising he had kidnapped a child that was deathly afraid of him and only okay right now because he thought he was the real Santa Claus. 
In a way, it was a good thing the kid hadn’t realised yet, because if Wilbur had never dressed up in this silly costume, he probably would have never known about the child freezing to death in his walls.
The child was so cold despite their lively spirit when he’d caught them after they launched themself off the top of the shelf. The fact it wasn’t the first time they’d thrown themself from such a height made Wilbur sick knowing had they not been lucky, could very well not have made the long fall. But the fact the kid had been struggling, terrified and afraid in his walls when he could have helped had the guilt eating him away as the boy rambled on.
They were so sure of themselves with the cruelty of humanity too that they had him so on edge. If the blonde knew he was really the guy that had cut his tree down, he very much doubted they would be this enthusiastic. He was talking about how much he needed his gift- the gift he still had no clue what it was, but just hearing the little blondes tale, and seeing how thin his clothes were had Wilbur making a very long list of things he needed to get to help the kid out. 
A kid which he still doesn’t know the name of.
The boy's eyes had brightened, as he bounded up and down on the balls of his feet eagerly, talking about what this gift would mean for him. He was actually quite endearing despite their seemingly dire situation.
“If I tell you my gift, then you can give it to me now and I’ll actually have a chance to survive the Winter!” He explained excitedly, grining.
Wilbur pushed down his anxiousness for the boys well-being. They had already suffered enough from his mistakes. He didn’t want them to suffer any longer than they had by them accidentally discovering the truth.
“What’s your name kid?” Wilbur mentally slapped himself  that he hadn’t asked sooner.
The tiny boy chuckled to himself as they crossed their arms. “Oh come on Santa, you know my name don’t you? You have a list with every child's name on it.”
Ah- right. Santa did have that Naughty and Nice list didn’t he? Curse Santa for having to live up to magical standards.
“Uh- I came here in such a rush, I um- ah must have left my list back at the North Pole.”
“So?” The boy argued, raising a brow. “You’re magic. Don’t you just know?”
Did he say endearing earlier? How about difficult for making him use his brain at 9pm at night. (Shut up. Don’t judge him for it)
“Well you know there’s like 2 Billion kids in this world and I see them all in one night. You don’t expect me to remember every name without my list do you?”
The kid hadn’t seemed to account for this, and thought it over before shrugging in agreement. 
Oh thank goodness for kids being young and naive. 
“I guess that’s fair. But you’ve got a s*** memory in that case Big Man. Getting old.” 
Actually, make that an annoying gremlin.
“I think if someone wants their present, they should be more careful about insulting their elders.” Wilbur teased with a chuckle. The boy rolled his eyes with a groan. 
Okay, an endearing gremlin then.
“Fiiiiiiiiine.” they drawled letting their arms drop to their sides before extending their hand up in greeting. “The name’s Tommy.”
Wilbur carefully lifted his arm up and slowly extended his pinky finger out for the boy to take in an oversized handshake. 
“Nice to meet you Tommy.” His finger dwarfed the boy entirely, his pinky finger only slightly shorter than the boy's total height, but nevertheless, Tommy took the tip and shook it lightly.
“Now, why don’t you sit down and tell me what it is you’d like for Christmas?”
Wilbur couldn’t help but smile at the little boy excitedly sharing in exact detail what he wanted. What the Borrower wanted wasn’t even that difficult to get, and he knew exactly where to find it. Tommy continued to ramble on for a bit longer about what he had been doing since coming here and Wilbur made mental notes of the few places where Tommy talked about entrances in out of the walls for future reference.
He was going to have to look out for Tommy from now on and if he wanted a shred of hope in getting him to trust him as Wilbur, he was going to need a plan.
“So could I have my gift now? I would really love it now and you still have a lot of other houses to visit tonight right?” Tommy asked innocently.
Wilbur really didn’t want to stop talking to Tommy. Tommy trusted the magical Santa Claus; not regular Human Being Wilbur Soot. He knew that if he let Tommy go now, it was unlikely he would see the kid again, but if he didn’t leave as Santa now, they would most likely get suspicious, realising he was a fake and panic. 
Wilbur sighed as he brushed a stray hair of fake beard from under his cheek.
“I- yeah I guess so. Best get you to bed then too.” 
“Awwww but I’m not sleepy yet!” The blonde pouted. “This is normally when I’m awake so it would be a crime to make me sleep now.”
“Well good little girls and boys go to bed when they’re told if they want to stay on the nice list.”
“You’re not the boss of me!” Tommy stuck his tongue out in defiance and Wilbur had to bite his to stop himself from bursting out loud laughing. 
This kid was going to be the death of him he swears.
Wilbur extended his hand to the Borrower, keeping it steady as he waited for Tommy to climb on. He’s still a little huffy at first realising there was no room for argument, but climbs on anyway, sitting down in the middle of Wilbur’s palm bracing themself before he moves.
The brunette curls his fingers over the boy slightly, bringing his hand to his chest protectively. He tries not to linger too long at how it felt to hold an entire person in one hand for the second time tonight before moving to stand. 
Steadily, Wilbur makes his way over to the book shelf and cautiously raises his hand up for Tommy to climb off of. He sets his hand down on the wooden surface and Tommy takes no time in hoping off to stand, waiting expectantly for his promised present.  
“Okay I need you to close your eyes just for a second.” Wilbur asks the boy who quickly covers his eyes with his hands, only to peak out from behind his fingers seconds later.
“I mean it Tommy. Keep them closed.”
“Ugggghhhhh Fineee!” the boy said huffing, but relented nevertheless. 
Wilbur quickly whirled around and crouched down beneath the Christmas tree, snagging a gift from the floor and hastily tearing the gift tag labelled- Technoblade; from the gift before setting it next to the small borrower child. 
“Okay, you can open your eyes now.” 
Tommy removed his hands and squealed in delight, quickly reaching down to hug the gift. 
“Oh thank you Santa! You really are the most poggers man ever!!!” Tommy spoke rapidly, smiling so much his cheeks hurt. “Well after me of course, but only by a little bit!” 
Wilbur chuckled as he gazed affectionately at the blonde hunched over the brightly wrapped gift. “You’re welcome Tommy. I’m glad you like it.”
The boy quickly stood, and started hauling the gift to the crack in the wall, as they tried to shove the gift through. Unfortunately while the crack had been enough for Tommy to squeeze through, it wasn’t quite wide enough to let the present go in without getting a tad scrunched up and paper torn. 
“Um, Tommy? Is there perhaps a bigger entrance I could take this too?” Wilbur suggested, cringing slightly as the boy gave another hard shove on the gift, intent on getting it through no matter what.
“It’ll fit. Just gotta keep pushing it in.” 
After a few more attempts, the boy did in fact give up and relented their efforts allowing Wilbur to pull the now crumpled present back out from the crack, instructing him to take it to the kitchen and place it behind the toaster, assuring him he would get it before the Bean woke up explaining how the electrical socket actually came off as a secret entrance.
He offered to take Tommy over to it too, but the stubborn boy refused, insisting that he had done enough and needed to hurry up and deliver presents to the other children before the night was over.
Taking one more long look at the boy, Wilbur watched as Tommy disappeared through the crack into the walls, the sound of tiny footsteps pitter pattering away before Wilbur himself quietly crept back to his room before he removed the Santa costume and flopped down onto his bed. 
He’d just met a tiny child.
A tiny child trying to survive in his walls.
That was deathly afraid of him.
Quickly Wilbur shot up from his bed snatching his phone from the night stand; a plan forming in his mind. The screen read 9:31 pm before he hastily unlocked it and dove into his contacts, quickly stopping on a profile of a girl with light pink hair, dialling their number shortly after.
The phone rang twice before a woman answered on the other end.
“Hello?”
“Niki? Hey! How’s the holidays going?” Wilbur asked as he grabbed his coat and gloves from the wardrobe.
“So I need a favour…”
.。❅*⋆⍋*∞*。*∞*⍋⋆*❅。.
Tommy awoke warm for the first time that week.
He opened his eyes blearily, almost willing himself to fall back into dream land before his eyes snapped fully open. Tommy rubbed his eyes a few times, eyes going wide trying to comprehend that this was real and not just a dream as the thoughts of the previous night played through his head.
He was in his Christmas present: A brand new pair of bright red, fluffy woollen socks- the most perfect bed ever and exactly what Tommy had asked for. He had basically run to get his gift as fast as possible, before hauling it back through the walls to a space close by the bookshelf; the space seemingly much more homely after last night's introductions. 
He hugged the woollen fabric tightly, smiling as he remembered the soft smile Santa had as he watched him go and how kind and gentle he had been with him the entire time.
The Borrower was so pleased and grateful that he had been able to meet the Santa Claus, and would cherish the magical night forever.
He stayed snuggled in his new bed for a little while longer before his stomach grumbled in protest that he should go and have something to eat. Albeit a little grumbly, his hunger eventually won out and Tommy made his way through the walls back to the kitchen so he could gather some food before the Bean woke up.
Stealthily, he removed the electrical socket, expecting to make it a quick supply run; stepping out into the open before freezing in surprise.
Laid out in a neat pile behind the toaster was a small stack of brightly wrapped gifts all wrapped in different coloured and patterned paper, and right in the middle, an envelope with his name written in gold cursive. Tommy smiled brightly, as he eagerly ran forward to the awaiting stack of gifts, quickly grabbing a gift reading the label. 
To: Tommy From: Santa
Tommy denies that he cried that day. 
That he took each gift home and opened each one oh so delicately, afraid if he didn’t they might just disappear, happy tears trailing down his cheek as he opened a gift revealing a beautiful, blue knitted sweater- and in just his size. 
His tears didn’t cease as he opened the other gifts revealing several new pairs of warm winter clothes, new rope and hooks for climbing, some tea candles with a tiny piece of flint and steel to light them, and the tiniest iced cookies he had ever seen. He could actually hold this in one hand like humans did and he had a whole bag of them!!! His prayers had been answered and he couldn’t be more thankful.
Soon, the only thing that remained was the envelope.
He dried his face as best he could, doing his best to not smear any tears or snot onto the pristine surface as he opened the envelope, revealing a card with a picture of glitter candy canes decorating the front. 
Settled back into his new bed, Tommy opened the card and read the message inside.
Dear Tommy, It was lovely meeting you and getting to know your story. I figured you might  like some extra gifts as well to help you be more comfortable in Wilbur’s walls. I think you should try talking to him.  You might be surprised. Sincerely, Santa Claus
P.S- He’s not as scary as you think.
Tommy’s smile became puzzled as he reread the last few lines.
Who the heck was Wilbur?
Was that the name of the Bean that lived here?
Oh come on, that's not fair! How come Santa knew Wilbur’s name but not his!
He grumbled a little bit at the thought, but his mind kept drawing back to the last line of the card.
‘He’s not as scary as you think.’
“Hmpf, you keep saying that.” Tommy grumbled. 
What was with Santa’s insistence on this?
As much as he wanted to be annoyed at Santa for putting forward such a ridiculous idea, Tommy decided to drag himself out of bed and to the book shelf crack. The Bean had gotten up not long after Tommy had made it back to his new home, but he’d been a tad too distracted to really care about how slow and heavy they had been trudging about this morning unlike their usually poised self.
Currently, said Bean was sitting on the couch, the exact same spot he and Santa had been last night, absentmindedly staring at his hand.
How could Santa think this guy was any good? They had kidnapped him unknowingly, almost let him die from hypothermia unknowingly, destroyed the top of his home unknowingly and Santa still thinks they won’t hurt him?
Okay so maybe it wasn’t their fault all those things happened just because they didn’t know he was there, but that doesn’t mean they’re not still very capable of hurting him for having to do all those things. But then again, Santa knew who was naughty or nice. And he wouldn’t ask him to do something that would endanger his safety if this ‘Wilbur’ guy wasn’t a good person right?
Tommy observed the Bean a little longer, as they ran their thumb over their palm. Their normally neat curly hair was all over the place and he could have sworn there were black bags under their eyes from lack of sleep. They suddenly turned their head and were staring straight at his crack by the book shelf. The Borrower was certain they couldn’t see him from the couch, but ducked back just slightly in case.
The Bean simply sighed as a small smile graced their features. Tommy was right about the black bags. Bean did not look like they had slept at all. 
He thought back to what Santa had said. 
I think you should try talking to him.
They certainly didn’t seem dangerous. Maybe they really weren’t bad like the Jolly man said?
But was it really worth taking the risk and talking to this guy?
Before he could dwell on it for much longer, the door bell sounded and Wilbur snapped his head to the sound before standing and stretching; their limbs popping and cracking slightly from their limited use. Before he left the living room, the man stopped and stared at his crack once more. Tommy didn’t dare breathe as they simply smiled and shook their head, before exiting and headed towards the front door.
Tommy allowed himself to exhale as the sound of footsteps got further away.
“Weirdo.” Tommy muttered to himself as he pushed himself back from the crack and began to head back to his bed for a well deserved rest.
He’d think about what Santa said, and just maybe he’d talk to this- Wilbur. If not, he hoped he'd meet Santa again so he could thank them in person.
Once he was back in his bed, Tommy quickly slipped in snuggling down, allowing himself to drift off to the chatter of beings much larger than himself from beyond the walls.
“Wil! So good to see you! It’s been ages!”
“Hi Dad, thanks for letting me host. I’m so glad you and Techno could make it!
“So are we, but you look like shit mate. Up late again? Wouldn't be related to that surprise you were telling us about?”
“You could say that…” 
.。❅*⋆⍋*∞*。*∞*⍋⋆*❅。.
Tommy never did meet Santa Claus again.
The card proudly on display in his new home, a secret hope he would one day and a constant reminder of what Santa had asked him to try.
And maybe one day, Tommy would finally take up the old man's advice and go and speak to Wilbur, and discover perhaps they may have been right.
Maybe then he’d finally have a friend to keep him warm during the holiday seasons and to rely on like he had wished. 
One that seemed to always know just what he needed despite never telling them, and was very insistent about never wearing Santa costumes.
No matter how many times a little boy begged….
 ˗ ˏ ˋ ★ˎˊ ˗   ༺𝓜𝓮𝓻𝓻𝔂༻༺𝓒𝓱𝓻𝓲𝓼𝓽𝓶𝓪𝓼༻  ˗ ˏ ˋ ★ˎˊ ˗  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
That was a lot of words....
THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR READING TO THE END! I hope you enjoyed reading this as much as I did writing it and it means a lot you read all the way through <3
Tag List: @local-squishmallow @brick-a-doodle-do @justarandomsloth @veryfunkycheesecake @munchkin1156 @kayla-crazy-stuffs @da3dm @eiscreme135 @orchid-harmony @the-tiny-lurker @colossal-red @nobodywritingao3 @nata2343 @bad-author777 @crazyfoxgirl10
And cue rant: Honestly you guys have no idea just how much you all mean to me an in this community and the impact you've had on me in the last year alone. I could not be more thankful for being apart of this and getting to know you guys. Getting so back into writing has been really good for me and rekindled something I love so I can't thank you enough.
And even though I know I've been a little quieter online, I'm still here lurking about and working on projects. A lot has happened in the last few months alone and I'm quite happy that I'm limiting myself to be a bit more healthier with my online habits.
Anyways thanks so much if you read this far!
Thanks to my Beta readers @a-xyz-s squishy and munchkin for reading this for me, and I wish you all a very safe and wonderful Christmas and a Happy New Year!
-Beckyu ❤️
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astraymetronome · 11 months
Text
In order to thank @dingbatnix for helping me stumble upon the story I'd been looking for, I offered to write them a Mcyt story! This is the outcome of my endeavor and I think it's cute. I wrote all of this from just being asked for Primeboy noms.
This isn't the best but I enjoyed writing this regardless!
Apex Insight
Word Count: 3,972
Warnings: Vore, mentions past life-threatening events, and cursing.
Dream wasn’t a bad person. Tommy knew this now after the months they’d been around each other. His human seemed rather sweet and kind despite everything going on around them and he was well aware of how protective he could be. Being warned about his friends before they even were allowed to come over was enough to help him understand where they both stood with one another. 
Clay saw him as a close friend and Tommy saw him like an older brother. 
Regardless of the familiar feelings between them both, he had felt horrified about meeting other people. The human wouldn’t let anything happen, that was clear, but he couldn’t guarantee his safety since some things couldn’t be anticipated. George and Nick seemed really lovely with the latter even asking to be called Sapnap instead. He found riding on their shoulders and even sleeping in their hoodies amazing since it helped his nesting needs. 
Tommy got to basically join in on their hangouts whenever they were congregating at the apartment. He was scared of the world outside. He knew this over everything. There was one time he tried to sneak out of the place via Clay’s college bag and within moments he’d started to freak out. He was lucky the blonde human had heard his panicked whimpers before he’d left the driveway or else he probably would have passed out due to his fear. 
Of course, that was what led them to what everyone was trying right now. Each and every single one of them was trying to convince him to leave. Not permanently, of course, just to try to handle a block or so with Dream. He wasn’t sure about this.
The last time they had convinced him to try something new he had to experience Brussels sprouts, or as he liked to call them, dog shit. All three of them had busted into laughter the moment he gagged. It was so gross and bitter. Trying vegetables wasn’t the greatest experience but he learned he liked carrots and broccoli… if they were drowned in a strange dip? Sapnap called it, vegetable ranch dip. Despite the name, he enjoyed it. They gave him coke afterward, at least that was more sweet than the veggies. 
He was adamantly denying their desires. Yeah, it was nice out, and no one would be around for a few hours but he couldn’t do it. Right before he’d moved into the apartment complex and ended up in Dream’s flat, he’d almost died. The cold had been miserable and 2 years ago he’d not even been 14 yet. Animals were frightening and some raccoon almost made a snack out of him. It was the main reason he felt… unsure. 
“Come on Tommy! It isn’t that bad, there is even a kid's playground a few blocks away.” Sapnap started to try and convince him. He refused to go to a playground. Whatever that was.
“I’m not a fucking kid!” He yelled out, quickly stepping from his shoulder to Dream’s as he started to scramble into his hoodie. Sitting against his neck and between the fabric of his shirt and the jacket was nice. He liked the feeling of Clay’s signature green hoodie on his body, it reminded him of his nest and the fact he had more access to softer and thicker fabrics. The warmth of his body was the icing on the cake for the perfect comfortable napping spot. 
The small chuckle that left the tall blonde shook his small body but he wasn’t mad. He liked to be close to his big brother as his tail carefully wrapped around his neck and under his Adam's apple. He felt his body vibrate as he spoke up. “Come on Toms, you’ll have to get over it eventually.” He stated simply.
“Yeah! Eventually you assholes!” He concurred as his small form hid under the fabric slightly. He couldn’t bring himself to do this yet. Tommy took a moment to steel his feelings before George gave a small comment.
“How about we all go out to the balcony? It’s outside but it’s an environment we can control.” He found himself contemplating it. Tommy didn’t think this would be that bad. He would be outside and it wasn’t like he had to move away from where he was currently perched. 
His moment of silence was interrupted as Dream got up from where he was, causing the borrower to wobble into the nook of his collarbone. “I can try.” The blonde found himself mumbling as he pulled himself back to his shoulder, getting back into his comfortable purchase. 
His moment of resolve had to be immediately ruined as the three humans were quick to holler about how many things they could finally show him once he was comfortable being around other people, but Tommy found himself shaking at the idea. Outside and people were two different things. He felt Dream’s hand gently brush against his side, causing him to move and bring himself back down into his palm.
Tommy was larger compared to some kinds of borrowers, the smallest he’d ever seen was a few inches but here he was as big as a human hand. He sat in his hold without much fear, kicking his legs over the side as he leaned back into his thumb. He liked being caressed in Dream’s grip.
____
The balcony actually hadn’t been that bad in his opinion. The sun and wind had felt nice while giving him a chance to bathe in the light. It meant he was teased for acting like a cat, but he couldn’t help it! Tommy has spent around 16 years in the walls, getting to sit out in raw sunlight was an experience he enjoyed. He understood why they’d been pushing him to get past his fears but it wasn’t like he would actually let them know this. Once George and Sapnap had left he found himself sitting right next to the open screen door, taking in the scents and sunshine. Dream walking around the apartment, he knew this, probably making dinner or working on something around their home. 
He found his eyes drifting as he watched clouds go by and the sun slowly start to set. “Tommy!” Only to realize he’d zoned out as he glanced over his shoulder, his human crouching near him with his hand out. The borrower scrambled to his feet, running over to his hand and clambering into his palm without any struggle. He smiled brightly as he held onto his thumb to ensure that he did not fall. His eyes were brightly shining and now that he thought about it, they looked a lot like the sky. 
Tommy let his tail wrap around Dream’s ring finger as he heard him continue with the started conversation. “I made dinner it’s not something you’ve had yet.” He said simply. He felt his small body grow a little dizzy at the speed before it was slowed down. He took note of the giant sheepish smile before he resumed. “It’s called Egg-drop soup. My mom used to make this all the time.” He told him without much thought. 
He’s never met Clay’s family. The borrower was doubtful this was on purpose but he wasn’t upset regardless. Family wasn’t something he had so it wasn’t like it really mattered. “That sounds good! I like eggs but why is it called Egg-drop soup?” He asked swiftly as he was set down on the table, slipping off without much effort as he smiled. 
“Well, you drop egg whites into the broth as it cooks in order to cause these little strings,” Dream told him as he sat down a small take-out container. He knew this was once used for some kind of condiment but it was better than Tommy having to eat from a medicine cup. “The broth is made of chicken broth and egg yolks so it’s called Egg-drop soup.” 
He found himself nodding as he looked down at the pale yellow soup, the small strings were big in his opinion but he knew full well they were small for Clay. “If you buy it instead of making it, it’ll be this bright yellow color because people add yellow food dye to make it more appealing. I don’t really see why but it doesn’t change the taste.” 
Tommy moved to reach his hands into the soup. The bits of egg were too big for his whittled spoon but he wasn’t one to shy away from messy eating. He couldn’t help an eager purr at the seasoned taste that spread across his tongue. This was one of the best things Dream had made over the few months they’d known each other. 
The low chuckle that left his human wasn’t a surprise considering he was very prone to this kind of reaction as he felt his tail sway. “Good?” He heard the blonde question before digging into his own meal without any question. 
He could feel his body warm up from the inside with each and every mouthful. He knew he wouldn’t be able to stomach the entire cup, he never could, but he was happy enough to not care. Dream, as always, finished his own bowl of soup before he did. It wasn’t very surprising considering he was aware that his handfuls still lost plenty of it due to how much would drip out between his fingers and such. 
Tommy was licking his fingers to clean up the residue of broth as he finished up, motioning to his friend to take the container. With practiced ease he watched Clay scoop up the bowl, throw his head back, and gulp down the content. He wasn’t very surprised, well aware he didn’t need much to be fed but he still found himself fascinated every time he did this. 
He’d heard rumors about how humans had these things called storage. It was described as a pouch in the abdominal area practically right next to the stomach. He didn’t really think it was true, and he was always tempted to ask but he remembered something that an elder had once told him. She’d claimed the easiest way to tell if a giant had one of these sacs was if they had sharp fangs. He’d been curious for a while but Dream had always been careful about that kind of stuff. 
He knew he had them, Tommy had snuck up to him one night after he’d dozed off. It had been hard to wiggle his hands under his lips in order to make enough of a gap to see. The one advantage he had was his natural night vision. It let him take notice of the sharper canines in the front of his mouth that slightly faded towards his molars with each passing tooth. It had frightened him just as much as it had piqued his curiosity. 
Of course, this was a risk but Clay had known about his kind before they’d even properly met. It was the main reason he’d revealed himself to a human in the first place. He’d been desperate to eat and had no choice but to beg for something from him. 
Last winter had been harsh, actual mice kept getting to what had been left out for him and it led to a lot of problems for the two of them but he grew attached and it seemed his human had to. 
“Dream?” Tommy felt himself shake as he mustered up his courage. If he could manage to step outside without being dragged or forced he could do this. It may have not been far, just a balcony by human standards, but for him, it was a wonder of his life. 
The borrower wrung his hands together as he looked up, green eyes settling on his trembling form as he heard a worried voice shake the air. “Are you alright, Tommy?” His human was concerned and as bad as it made him feel he needed to feed his desires. Mice were curious by nature and he was considered part mouse so it made complete sense. 
“I’m fine dickhead! I just have a question…” He mumbled before he placed his hands in his lap. “Do… Do you know about storages?” He asked softly. It wasn’t in his normal confident way, he knew this would set alarm bells off but he didn’t want to confuse the everloving fuck out of Dream if he had no idea. 
He watched as his human paused, seemingly fine before he watched color flush up his face. Tommy felt confused, he expected more anger or confusion but not…
Embarrassment?
His tail swayed with his curiosity as he went ahead and stepped closer. Dream had to know what he was talking about, why else would he react in such a way? He went ahead and smiled as he crept closer knowing full well the bright green eyes that settled on his small form were aware of his teasing. 
“Clay? How does it work?” He asked as he put his hands up and reached for his friend, giving grabby hands as he asked to be held. “Please!” He begged. The borrower giggled as he was removed from the table and felt warm hands under him. A part of him was nervous, after all, he’d been told that storage was inside a person. If it was near his stomach then… 
Well, he’d have to be eaten. Right, that's how it would have to work… But being eaten was a huge fear for his kind. He couldn’t do that… but he had to curb his curiosity like many of his kind before him. “W-well..” The human started before he stuttered and looked down towards him.
Tommy did his best to give him his biggest and brightest puppy dog eyes. He was hiding his fear with his smile as he pleaded with his gaze. The finished sigh that escaped Dream told him all he needed to know as he spoke. “Well, in the past, people saw borrowers as food. I don’t know all of the details.”
“We developed the sacs in order to... Well originally held food for later but plenty of people ended up using it to keep your kind safe. So it no longer held the purpose of digesting things. It stopped having a purpose so plenty of people lost it as generations passed. Some people still have it.” The man added before Tommy reached up. He wasn’t sure about this but he needed to know. 
“Could… Would you store me?” The blonde borrower asked before he pushed his hands against his lips. “I know you have one… because of your teeth.” He added to help Dream understand where he was coming from. He knew full well they wouldn’t hurt to try it out. 
“Think about it this way, if I can hide inside of you then I can confront my fears somewhere safe. I won’t overreact or panic because I can’t see anything.” He started to ramble on before he took notice of how a smile spread up to his cheek. He could feel his own face flushing and becoming a bright shade of red. 
“Toms, are you telling me you’ve been curious about this since we met?” His human asked smugly making the comment as the borrower was slightly pulled from his face. Tommy didn’t hesitate to kick his leg and speak up.
“Maybe I have! It’s none of your business dickhead! Don’t get your panties in a twist!” He called out as he crossed his arms before turning his head away. The all-too-familiar chuckle almost broke his gise of confidence before he heard him speak up.
“Well, I can at least give you this..” Dream muttered, his face just as bright. 
This got him thinking… This was just as embarrassing for him as it was for the human. He had to be just as flustered and unsure as he was but they were both going to experience this together. It made him feel like a little kid again, happy to be allowed to go out borrowing on his own instead of being overwatched by an adult. 
“I know how to.” He started making the smaller blonde look up in surprise. “I got into a lot of trouble as a kid, so having this little pocket I could put things in was a nice way to get out of trouble for a moment or two.” There was so much Tommy didn’t know about Clay and this was what he really needed to help ingrain this fact into his memory. He found himself quiet as he was brought up close. 
His instincts wanted him to run away. He knew what was about to happen as he sat down, placing his hands in his lap he gave an anxious shiver as he was held close. Having both of Dream’s hands under him was nerve-racking but he was well aware he was doing it to give him more room to shift or move if he felt uncomfortable. The heat under him as his tail swayed, displaying his overwhelming curiosity, was quick to feel ice cold as he watched his lips part. 
His abdomen twisted and squeezed at the sight. He could make out his teeth and how blinding white they seemed to be despite how his lips seemed to block them. Clearly to try and keep his anxiety deep down. The way the light behind them allowed him to take notice of the glistening saliva that spread across every part of his mouth and sunk into each crevice. 
He tried to ignore the scent his mouth seemed to waft off. It wasn’t the best thing but it was better than he expected to smell. Regardless of this, he found himself leaning forward and placing his hands on his lower lip. He couldn’t help letting his own mouth drop open in awe as the human’s tongue curiously pushed towards his little fingers. 
The warm slime that began to coat his palms made him slightly cringe but it wasn’t as bad as he expected. Dream’s nervous breath washed over him allowing him to understand just how similar they were. As he’d pointed out earlier, both of them were just as embarrassed and unsure but they both wanted this. Tommy knew this. 
As he slid his hand inside, settling his upper body’s weight onto the pink muscle in front of him. He felt the tongue twitch and squish as he pushed his hands deeper into the moving flesh. The sudden gasp that left the large blonde made him burst into laughter.
“Oh My Prime! Y-you’re more scared than I am!” He called out as he gasped for his breath only to feel his weight unbalanced and his body slip forward. He spit out any spit that got into his mouth after his face planted into the muscle, his legs kicking slightly in an attempt to help himself righten his form in order to sit up. The warmth was surprisingly intoxicating. He found it more inviting than frightening despite being in the mouth of something his kind has always seen as a hunter. 
Tommy let his gaze drift to look around the space he sat inside. His eyes turned to the cheeks, allowing him to focus on the white discolored tissue that decorated some spots of the internal side pouches. He was well aware of how Dream was prone to biting his tongue when he focused so, by his guess, it had to be from that. Right? Still, he found himself tilting his head out of curiosity only to feel a glob of clear, hot slime drip onto his head. “Shit!” He yelled out as he moved, slipping and falling onto his back in his desperate attempts to right his balance. 
The small fit Clay burst into at his action almost went completely unnoted as he felt himself bring his hands onto his chest. As he watched the roof of his mouth, he took in the small harsh ridges and the sharp, animalistic-like teeth before his eyes drifted back to see the uvula danging over a darkening abyss. He felt his anxiety spike once more but he took a deep breath before he lifted one hand over his head. He gave the softer pallet a very gentle pat as he spoke up. “Alright, you big dumbass! Send me into your black hole of a storage!” He yelled out as he kicked his legs letting his tail wrap around his left thigh as he closed his eyes.
Tommy could feel the hesitance they both held but he wasn’t worried. Dream wasn’t going to hurt him nor would he allow him to stay in his stomach if he somehow ended up in that unforgiving space. He gently shifted but as he felt the tongue under him shift, forcing his head to slip back and bump against the entrance of his throat and slightly past his tonsils. 
It didn’t even take a second before he heard the moving of muscles as they squelched and opened before a gulp filled his senses. His torso was pushed against the walls before his body was grabbed and tugged downwards. He yelped at the sudden motion, kicking his legs slightly as one arm was trapped above his head and the other pinned to his chest. 
Tommy kicked his legs as he was forced down and into the tight tube that seemed to be endless as he felt himself being forced into an upside-down fall. He didn’t like the sensation very much since it was forcing saliva down his nose and into his respiratory system. The soft sound of pounding only seemed to grow even louder as a soft wooshing filled everything around him before his head hit something rather rough. Without a moment's warning, he felt his body push through after it softened up only leading to him tumbling into an open space. The lack of a sour or a sulfur smell and a very shallow puddle was enough to tell him he wasn’t in his stomach. 
Within a second he felt weight against his back, causing him to scramble to an upright position. There wasn’t as much room as he expected. He couldn’t lay flat or really sit straight up without hitting a wall and stressing out his surroundings. He smiled a little as he moved, pushing his own hands against the weight against the wall. He felt it shift around him as soon as he made contact as Clay’s voice boomed all around his space. 
“Toms. Is it okay in there?” He asked, voice shaking slightly. The nerves explained the heavy pounding that seemed ever so concerned. 
“Yeah! I’m a big man! Nothing can scare me!” He found himself yelling. He figured this was the best choice since he was buried in the human’s body at the moment. Of course, his snark had to be followed with some in return as his friend spoke up.
“Yeah, like how you weren’t scared of taking a walk around the block.” Dream told him with obvious humor riding his tone. He didn’t hesitate to kick out, his foot coming in contact with the shifting flesh and it simply flexed in response to his small weight. He growled at the comment and turned to lie on his side. It didn’t take much before he felt the warmth and shifting walls all-encompassing his body. It really reminded him of the nests he had made in the walls before and the plush one in Dream’s end table. It was overwhelmingly comfortable. 
Not that he would admit this.
“Fuck off.” Tommy grumbled in response as he crossed his arms over his chest, a soft smile creeping across his face as he nuzzled into the walls. He had a feeling this wouldn’t be the only time they’d do this. 
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sheena-yuet · 1 year
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Bunch of random sketches ✨✨
Idk somehow I’m really into giant show their affection by licking their tiny. It just cute so me :3
Or using their finger to lift the tiny’s head uwu
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