#g/t tommy

[cyncerity]

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-

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

[skullsnbruises]

Borrower Tommy is a silly guy.

Taglist: @poprockpanda @brick-a-doodle-do @local-squishmallow @dingbatnix

[dingbatnix]

"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

[i-am-beckyu]

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✨

[nobodywritingao3]

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

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

[sheena-yuet]

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

-

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

[astraymetronome]

how would it have goon if, when Tommy and dream were stuck in prison together dream shrunk and Tommy's instincts took a front seat ?

Well first things first, this really reminds me of something I read on here involving Tommy and Dream. I don't remember who made it or when I read it but I do remember it being an au with predators and such, Dream lets himself be eaten as a sign of trust to apologize to Tommy, and in the end, he is let go but not forgiven. It was also not g/t.

If I can find it, I'll link it later on but if someone else finds it feel free to @ me!

One last side note before we get into this, for simplicity's sake, Tommy has a storage for this short story.

Edit from Future Nomie: It's not.

Warnings: Vore, Unwilling Prey, Instinct Driven Pred, Fear, Cursing, Talking of a person as an It, Long as Fuck.

Tommy had grown used to the aching loneliness of his current life, but things were getting better. Yeah, he might have fucked things up with his family and Wilbur was dead... but he was learning to get out of the shitty programming in his brain.

Puffy made him understand how much had been done to his head, she helped him acknowledge the mental blocks and changes he'd built to protect himself and he was working on growing into a proper adult now that he was 17. He knew what Puffy had said, she had explained to him that he didn't need Dream's apology to heal.

It was described in a way he didn't want to admit he understood, even now, with the man who hurt him right in front of his face, he refused to listen to that tidbit of advice. "When a snake bites you, you run away and heal. You don't chase the snake and ask why it bit you."

He understands that Dream won't give him an answer, but that wasn't the reason he was here. He was here to talk and say goodbye, not ask him why. He was ready to put this part of his life in the past, he could only hope Dream would do the same. Tommy recognized that their relationship was unhealthy, he recognized that he wasn't good for him and he wanted to make sure they'd never have to be around each other again.

He was listening as the man began to say some random shit, speaking about something stupid. He was bringing up exile, trying to get in his head like he always did.

Tommy was on his final nerve, the man wouldn't shut his trap! He wanted Dream to just shut the fuck up! He wanted him to leave him alone for once in his life! He gave a glare as he felt his wings bristle behind his back, hands gripping the soft blue cardigan made of Friend's last shear. He could feel himself trembling as he stressed his still-healing leg and chewed the inside of his cheek.

Normally he'd yell. He'd scream and cry and beg until Dream finally forgave him or he hit him. Either way, both options felt bad. The avian could feel his brain scratching, wanting to slip into the mindset of a scared fledgling. The mindset he'd been in shortly after exile started when he was wung. But that was a story for another day as he stomped over towards the man.

Tommy knew how to handle himself, everyone knew this before the wars, during them, and even after. He could handle weapons, hand-to-hand, and even guns. So the look of surprise on Dream's face as Tommy shoved him against the obsidian wall and glared in his face. His arm was forced against his neck, pushing against him with a great amount of strength as he shifted his weight, they were in a position where if he moved his grip and threw him back he'd easily be thrown over his shoulder.

The man's mask had been confiscated when he'd first been locked up, but Tommy wouldn't have been surprised if he'd been given it back for... good behavior or some shit. Either way, he didn't really care about that right now. He wasn't used to having his eyes on him, he always knew they were watching but it was different without the mask. It was... empowering.

It was a reminder that Dream was human. Dream wasn't some god he couldn't even consider standing up to but now he knew he could.

"Shut, the fuck up." Tommy growled out, his wings flaring out behind him as the collage of black and red feathers. He knew some of them were crooked and he was well overdue for a preen but that didn't mean they weren't intimidating. He wanted him to just finally shut up and leave him alone. He was tempted to call out for Sam, to beg for another figure here to keep Dream in check, but right now he knew it wasn't an option. He's been trapped in here with the bastard for a few days now and he was at his limit.

"For once in your prime forsaken life, shut the fuck up and leave me alone." He snarled, pushing Dream's head up and forcing him to look up at the roof of their cell. He heard a choked noise slip past the ram's lips and Tommy dropped him.

The avian stepped back, lifting his hands and bringing them up to his face. He looked down at him, watching as the man slid down the wall. He was clearly being a little overdramatic but the wide grin that spread across his face told Tommy everything he needed to know. Dream had a sickening smile that seemed to just grow as he burst into cackling laughter.

He was laughing and seemed unable to stop as he spoke. "You're just like me, Tommy." He said ecstatically, "You've killed people, you've killed me. There is no difference between the two of us." The way these words left him sounded so matter-of-fact, like nothing Tommy could say or do would change his opinion.

All the avian could do was clench his teeth and dig his fingernails into his palms. He stepped back towards the opposite wall and let his weight slide into the farthest corner. He felt nervous and unsure as he covered his ears, wings wrapping over his limps and covering his body. He was shaking, partly rocking himself to feel a sense of security and safety as he closed his eyes.

ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁💿𐰁 𝗓 ᶻ𐰁 𝗓 ᶻ

By the time he'd finally opened his eyes, Tommy hadn't even realized he'd been asleep. The last two days he's been in here he hadn't managed to get a wink of sleep and he'd finally reached a point he couldn't help it anymore. Of course, it had to happen after such a huge argument. He let his wings unfurl, blinking at the glow of lava as he let his eyes drift over his surroundings.

The avian should have been happy that he was alone, honest, but... why would they take Dream out.. and not him.

It made no sense.

Panic swelled in his chest as he got to his feet, his tennis shoes squeaking as he scrambled from the floor. He ignored the crook in his neck and the soreness of his back to instead look around. He could feel his chest heave with each breath, panic swelling heavy and constricting his lungs like a snake.

Of course, it all went back to that fucking snake. He could feel anger bubbling where it wasn't before and such but he didn't really care...

He could feel himself spiraling, a panic attack like before. When Puffy had first explained what they were he'd felt.. angry. Angry that he couldn't control himself, he had to be in control or... or something would go wrong.

His breathing was hitching and he felt like he wouldn't be able to fix it before too much longer. He wanted to scream out and beg for someone to just take the pain and throw it into the deepest pit. A deep pit where his feelings of resentment, anger, fear, and sadness could live rent-free and not bother him. He needed to just feel nothing. His eyes drifted over everything examining the corners of the room and trying to find any signs of what could be going on. He needed to calm himself down.

He did what Puffy said, counting things and colors he could see. The lava popped around 6 times in a minute, the cauldron of water was a gross green, and he could...

He could see...

Were those small feet?!

His panic was quickly overturned by his confusion. He could see small socked feet, peaking out from behind the chest. He took a second, catching his breath and whipping his eyes, before crouching down. He reached over, pulling the wooden trunk towards his form. It scraped across the ground, sounding like chalk on a board. If he hated the sound, then the owner of those green eyes, probably despised it.

His eyes widened at the sight of blonde hair and an orange jumpsuit, he probably would be more careful if it wasn't for the fact he knew exactly who he was staring at.

Dream was small. Smaller than Skeppy who was barely over 2 feet. If he had to make an educated guess, he was probably around 6 or so inches tall. The teen found himself staring at him, unable to properly comprehend the fact he was so tiny.

A frightened face told him everything he needed to know before he saw orange skitter past his face and in the direction of... well nothing? There wasn't anywhere for him to hide, so Tommy didn't understand what he was doing. It wasn't like it really mattered since as he watched him run, something triggered in his brain. A fuzzy sensation overtook him, his pupils blowing wide as the desire to catch the small creature overwhelmed him.

Tommy bounded forward, his wings flaring behind him as he flapped them. The avian hadn't expected this but he felt a coo escape his throat as he trapped the small form down with his hands. The avian knew he was being too rough but right now he couldn't bring himself to care. He was happy with hunting after something so small, something he could easily catch.

He scooped him up, happy as he sat on his knees and lifted his treat up near his face. He let his eyes drift over the small form, taking in the details of his little meal.

When did he start thinking of him as a meal? He didn't hesitate to look over him, seeing frightened green eyes turn to rage as their owner began to yell something. He couldn't quite make it out as he lifted them to his face and eagerly slipped the small form into his mouth.

His wings flapped, shedding a few stray feathers as he pushed the squirming form deeper into his maw, able to feel as it slipped on his saliva and flailed in what he assumed was fear. He didn't feel bothered by it, cooing still as he closed his lips around his catch's waist. He wanted to feel this sensation in his stomach, knowing he did a good job and caught something!

Phil was gonna be so-

Why was he thinking of Phil right now- wait why was he doing any of-

A chirped, feeling something hit the back of his throat. This would normally trigger someone's gag reflex but Tommy can only throw things up once they're in his stomach. He grinned to himself, swallowing as he felt the form slip into his esophagus. He gave a happy warble as he swallowed again, feeling as his catch squirmed down his throat. Tommy didn't hesitate to sigh as the shape slid past his collarbone and into his chest, leaning back and supporting himself with a hand. He felt a weight slip into his abdomen, hunger bleeding away as he fluttered his wings.

He couldn't help the relief that washed over him, a feeling of safety and contentment he'd never considered before as he glanced around a tad. He wanted to make a nest but there wasn't really anything he could use in this cell. He gave a tired chip, curling back where he'd been just minutes prior, and placed his hands on his stomach as his wings wrapped over him. Tommy was cooing and chirping to himself, lost in a haze of his natural desire.

He could feel something moving inside of him, the small ram he'd managed to catch and he was eager to feel this until he let them out.. Tommy curled closer to the corner, gently pushing against where his little friend sat, eager to let them tire out. It's not like they actually in any harm, at least some part of him knew he was fine. Either way... the bird had some sleep to catch up on.

Oml. I wrote this all in one sitting and finished at 3 am. Didn't expect it to go this long so I'm gonna schedule the post. I've watched three movies since I started and I might write a part two of Dream's point of view if anyone wants that. Also, this is completely non-fatal. I do dabble in that side of the spectrum but I don't think I'll post any of it on my Tumblr. Anyways! I hope this is what you wanted~

[webbymcbebby]

Tommy my boy! (He’s terrified) anyways he got hurt and dre went “child hurt, protec now!!” And kinda nommed him so.. yippee!!

@dingbatnix I used dre and Tommy for this TOMS TERRIFIED AND CONFUSED AT GHE SAME TIME LOL😭😭

[2-sleepy-for-this]

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

[smimon]

owo

[cyncerity]

more Hiraeth AU!! Here’s Ranboo and Aimsey, they’re siblings :)

bonus-

[skullsnbruises]

whoops! trauma.

[dingbatnix]

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

[i-am-beckyu]

Patience is a Virtue and Trust is Earned

A continuation of my Christmas fic One Small Gift

AYOOOOO! 3RD YEAR IN A ROW I'VE WRITTEN A CHRISTMAS FIC! LETS GO! I've been writing this fic on and off for almost a year ever since posting the first fic and got a few people wanting a sequel so congratulations!! You got your wish!!!

I recommend reading the first fic if you haven't already as this fic references plot that may not make sense without context so please consider reading it first before reading on. I'm gonna ramble on at the end of this fic but without further ado, MERRY CHRISTMAS AND ENJOY!!!

cw: fear, lying, panic and anxiety, hidden identity, magic and a TONNE of fluff and whimsey!

word count: 9180

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.

༘⋆ ❅ ･:*:｡ ❆ ₊˚ ｡⋆❆⋆｡˚₊ ⋆ ⁺₊❅⋆ ⁺₊❆⋆

Borrowers.

Tiny scavengers that take human things for survival.

Well, that’s what all the articles say.

Wilbur leaned back in his chair, stretching his arms over his head. His back popped from the unhealthy way he’d been hunched over his computer for the last few hours, but he hardly noticed as he scrolled the internet.

“Yet another useless article that tells me nothing about how to actually coax one out.” He sighed dejectedly.

Now you are absolutely right, he should be studying right now while at University and not googling Borrowers again for the millionth time, but it’s not like he wanted to risk doing it at home. No way was he going to jeopardise having Tommy leave.

It had been a few weeks since Wilbur had met the young boy that fateful Christmas Eve and he was positive they hadn’t left. Not when he was now able to recognise the tell tale signs of a scavenger living in his walls. But the man was getting a tad testy about not being able to speak to them in person. 

Over and over Wilbur had to tell himself that Tommy trusted Santa Claus, not him. If they ever got a tiny hint that he knew of their existence, then that would be it and the boy would be gone. If a Borrower was seen, the rule they set for themselves was they had to leave no matter the circumstances. Staying after being seen was an absolute no no and never worth the risk. The articles had been very extensive on that point.

His other option to try and unknowingly lure the boy out wasn’t going very well either. Every idea seemed either too obvious, or too dangerous to attempt. (No he definitely did not consider using a mouse trap…)

Tommy was smart enough to avoid those anyway.

But he couldn’t ignore the growing urge to speak to them despite how foolish it would be to do so. It’s not like he could just walk straight up to Tommy’s wall and be like: “Hi I’m Wilbur but you already know that and I know you’re living in my walls. Sorry for ruining your house and kidnapping you haha.”

…

Yeah that would definitely send Tommy packing.

So like anyone does when they’ve run out of ideas, Wilbur rushed to the internet and started doing his research.

Borrowers- who are they, and how to befriend one.

Surprisingly, it seemed there were definitely people who knew about them. The few articles proof enough; but no one seemed to know anything further or wanted to speak up about how they knew what they did. The few authors or bloggers he’d emailed ended up ghosting him when asked to elaborate or rudely shut him down (looking at you PandasCanPVP) and though it did make sense they didn’t answer his questions; protect the borrowers and their code etc, it was still damn frustrating that no one was open to helping him. 

He’d at least done a few things to aid Tommy a bit more. He left more food out for longer than required and on the lower shelves so the blonde didn’t have to go to such lengths for a meal, and he’d creatively turned an unused draw into a junk draw and filled it with a bunch of mismatched items with multiples of each so that Tommy didn’t have to worry about him getting suspicious. (He definitely did not smile when he counted 6 paper clips instead of 7)

But there wasn’t really anything more he could do in terms of coaxing Tommy out. Wilbur just had to hope that either his message as Santa got through to him, or that he’d catch sight of Tommy one day and have an opportunity to acknowledge his existence. He hoped for the first of the two, but he’d take either to just make progress with the boy at all.

At least he had peace of mind they were doing better now then they had been before Christmas Eve. Niki was an absolute legend for helping him make all those tiny gifts. So yes he owed Nicki a massive favour when he absolutely bamboozled her for showing up outside her front door in the middle of the night and begged her for help to make tiny clothes for Tommy without explaining what for and why he needed them done that night. And yes he’d had to suck it up Christmas Day when he was tired as hell from working through the night to do it, but not for a second did Wilbur regret it when he knew how happy those gifts would have made the Borrower child.

It took everything in him not to tell his family about the encounter too, not wanting to risk the blonde hearing him, but it was for the best. One day it was going to pay off and then he could properly apologise for what he had done and get Tommy home.

Even if it meant he’d never really get to know the little guy, he would do it!

And that was a promise.

༘⋆ ❅ ･:*:｡ ❆ ₊˚ ｡⋆❆⋆｡˚₊ ⋆ ⁺₊❅⋆ ⁺₊❆⋆

This Wilbur guy was weird.

Did he have any reasons to back that statement up? 

NOPE! 

Wilbur was just decidedly a wrong-un and that was a good enough reason for him to accept.

Tommy had been finding his time in Wilbur’s walls a lot more pleasant now that he had some proper supplies. Santa really did spoil him rotten with all the extra gifts and was making getting by so much more achievable than what he had been previously. Even before his kidnapping, living in the forest certainly did not come with quite the same number of luxuries that living in a Human Beans house did.

For one: Constant food source. 

Wilbur was one sloppy guy. 

Bean did not seem very keen on putting things away properly before he left the house for hours at a time for this ‘You-knee-verse-it-tea’ thingy he went to for school. Anyone normal would probably think he was a slob, but for Tommy it was the golden ticket to trying foods he’d never even dreamed of! Did you know bread could actually taste good when it wasn’t mouldy? 

Wilbur’s house was just a treasure trove of things to borrow from and Tommy had pretty much anything and everything he could ever want here. He still had plans to get back to his nook home, but perhaps it wouldn’t hurt to stay for awhile longer while he figured out where home actually was.

There wasn’t really a rush to leave with all the snow still about anyways. He couldn’t be the bestest Borrower ever if he was frozen solid before he got home, but he couldn’t help but think about what Santa had said. 

‘He’s not as scary as you think’

After the whole meeting with the REAL Santa, Tommy hadn’t felt the same. After being so used to the isolation of the forest, physically talking to someone that wasn’t an animal or a tree had left the Borrower a tad empty. He’d spoken to someone, and they had spoken and listened back. The candy cane card sat in front of his bed and every day Tommy would wake up and reread the message and reminisce about that fateful night. 

It seemed bonkers to the boy, the idea of actually speaking to another Human Bean, but Santa’s kindness and words seemed to ring loud in his head. He’d been longing to talk to someone again for so long, and after observing Wilbur all this time; the Bean hadn’t done anything to suggest that they were a bad person. Believing that Santa was telling the truth wasn’t hard, but the thought of willingly revealing himself? Well it was easier said than done.

Because what if Santa was wrong? 

What if Wilbur was kind to other Beans but looked at him and decided he was more of a ‘Tommy shaped pet’ instead of an actual person? Just what would he do when he held all power over him? He would be powerless to stop them and could quite easily end off worse than where he started.

Tommy tried to shake the thoughts away before he thought too hard about it. 

Wilbur would never catch him.

That wasn’t going to happen if he could help it.

Speak of the devil and they shall appear, as the sound of faint keys being slid into a lock as it clicked, signalled the return of said Bean. The man gently opened and shut the door as they sighed before walking into the kitchen, as Tommy listened intently to their routine.

Put their bag down on the table. Open and close the fridge Shuffle through the cupboards for something to eat. Take out a box of half eaten crackers. Eat one and toss the rest on the bench for later.

Move into the bedroom to relax and close the door with a soft-

‘Click’

Tommy grinned mischievously to himself.

Now was his time to shine.

It might be foolish to any other Borrower to take food while a Bean was actively awake and home, but Tommy had seen Wilbur do this enough times to know now that that man was not going anywhere for at least another 20 to 40 minutes while they de-stressed their day away watching Tikky Toks on their phone, and there was no way he was wasting the opportunity to get food while it was easy access on the bench right now.

Silently, Tommy grabbed his hook and borrowing bag as he made his way through the maze of walls to the kitchen outlet. Just a quick trip and Dinner would be acquired. 

Easy.

With little effort, Tommy slipped the electrical cover off the outlet to the kitchen, double checking the coast was clear before making a move straight for the crackers. 

“Ugh, Seaweed again?” Tommy scrunched his nose up at the obnoxious packaging. 

He really shouldn’t be complaining about the easy borrow, but the blonde knew there were BBQ flavoured ones up on the high shelf he couldn’t reach. Stupid Wilbur gatekeeping his favourite snacks. Okay, unknowingly sure, but come on; Seaweed? The same stuff fish eat? Yuck.

Secretly the boy actually didn’t mind them too much but it does get a bit much eating the same thing 5 nights in a row. Better plan a supply trip to the high shelves next time Wilbur’s out to get stocked up with a bit more variety Tommy decided, as he opened his bag and stored a broken up cracker. 

As he gathered up his borrowings, the unusual pangs of an instrument in pain sounded down the hall. Tommy gasped as he sped up his movements before grabbing his hook and hastily making his way down to the ground. Another few pangs of an off note sounded through the walls as Wilbur messed with his guitar strings.

Looked like it was dinner and a show tonight!

Lady Life’s music of the Forest was good and all, but Tommy never knew music like Wilbur’s even existed till he got to experience it one night. It was just like tonight, Wilbur in the other room with Tommy borrowing before the man started doing what was called ‘tuning the guitar’ to get the instrument in the right key. 

Tommy thought he’d been destroying the poor instrument until they started playing a song he didn’t know. The brunette had talent and listening to them play felt like a private concert just for him. It wasn’t long before Tommy had crossed the kitchen and was back in the walls to Wilbur’s bedroom, nestled atop the Bean’s shelf out of sight in a discarded Beanie.

The soft strum of the guitar filled the room and Tommy found himself relaxing to the constant rhythm. It was easy to just let himself drift and sway with the melody. The way it put him at ease was almost hypnotic, but the boy found he didn’t care if it meant he could indulge in it forever. 

Wilbur had been working on this song for awhile and it had quickly become one of his favourites. There were many times he had wanted nothing more than to cheer and clap whenever the Human Bean had finished playing, but the lingering fear of being caught was ever present in the boy's mind. This however didn’t seem to defer his ever growing loneliness. 

‘Would it be so bad if he were to talk to Wilbur?’

‘What if he was one of the so-called good Beans?’

‘What if he had a chance to make a friend?’

Tommy peaked over the edge of the shelf down to where Wilbur was busy absorbed in his playing. How would he even approach them? It’s not like he could just walk out into the open and be like: ‘Hi I’m Tommy and I’ve been living in your walls ever since you kidnapped me and using all your stuff. Want to be friends?’

…

Yeah that’s definitely going to result in him winding up in a jar or something.

If only Santa Claus was still here. It was his suggestion to befriend them in the first place so he’d probably know exactly what to say and do. 

Wait, THAT WAS IT!!!

Why didn’t he think of this sooner? Why not just ask Santa what to do! It made perfect sense! He’s a Bean and talks to them all the time so obviously he would know exactly how he could approach them! 

Tommy crept back into the walls and quickly ran off in the direction of the house's study. 

He had a letter to write.

༘⋆ ❅ ･:*:｡ ❆ ₊˚ ｡⋆❆⋆｡˚₊ ⋆ ⁺₊❅⋆ ⁺₊❆⋆

“Okay, Dear Santa…” Tommy said out loud as he began to write in his best handwriting. 

As soon as he’d found an unused marker in the study, Tommy had been quick to fashion it into one his size from the red tip. His hands had been stained red, but red was the poggest colour ever so he didn’t mind. He had gone to start writing a letter with some borrowed paper back in his home that night, but quickly realised Santa probably wouldn’t be able to read his letter if the letter was written in his regular handwriting- AKA too small to read with Santa’s bad eyesight from being old. This would require a bigger piece of paper and writing with his Big Man writing skills!

That also meant needing a bigger piece of paper and room to write it which meant waiting for Wilbur to leave and that took far too long with it being a Sunday. Tommy had had to wait HOURS for Wilbur to leave to do the grocery shopping, but at least it meant he’d be out for awhile and the Bean had left the kitchen window open, so it was a good day to enjoy some fresh air, albeit if it was a bit cold still and windy.

So with his new marker in hand and a few sheets of Wilbur's scrap pieces of paper from the Kitchen, Tommy now had everything he could possibly need to write his letter.

“Dear Santa.”

…

“---Dear Santa?”

…  …   …

“Dear Santaaaaaaaa UGHHH WHY IS THIS SO HARD!?”

Well, everything but the right words…

“It shouldn’t be this difficult!” The boy complained, as he crossed out another attempt at writing. 

“Dear Santa, so you know how you said to talk to Wilbitch? How exactly do I do that?” 

Tommy groaned as he furiously scribbled over the dear santa line before flopping himself on top of the stack of papers. He had been trying to write this letter for 15 minutes and he was getting frustrated. He just didn’t know how to start the letter. 

Get straight to the point or ease into? 

Is there even a way to write a letter correctly? 

6 year old Beans do this for goodness sake!

He just wanted to ask for the best way to approach Wilbur without the worst occurring. He knew the Beans schedule so he could probably work out a good time to talk to them based on their mood but he also still had to get over the idea of willingly exposing himself and that he definitely needed Santa’s help with. Not to forget to mention he still had to thank Santa for all his gifts too! He honestly couldn’t thank him enough for what he had done and the Borrower wanted the old man to know that.

Perhaps just being honest would be the best way to write this? Get it all down in one go and out in the open so he and Santa were completely on the same page. It was at least worth a shot. Wilbur would be back soon and he needed to get something written before that. With a little more internal deliberation, Tommy took a deep breath, and began to write.

Line after line the Borrower wrote his letter- as well as stopping to rest his aching hand as the letter grew longer letting the words flow as best he could. It wasn’t perfect, but then again he added pictures and doodles to make it better so he’s pretty sure that evens it out.

The last thing he needed to do was address the letter to Santa and get it to the letterbox. With his best precision skills, Tommy folded the letter in half and wrote on the front in his best writing.

TO: SANTA

NORTH POLE

Once he was done, Tommy stepped back to admire his handy work.

It was a bit wonky and anything but fancy, but for the first letter he’s ever written, it wasn’t too bad for a giant letter written by a Borrower.

Now all that was left was to deliver it. The boy quickly put his marker away into his borrowing bag and cleaned up the stack of papers back into a neat pile like how he found it, discarding any of his first bad attempts in the bottom of the bin where Wilbur wouldn’t find it, before moving to the window with the letter in tow. 

Now the best way to get the letter to Santa would be to post it and Tommy had seen some Human Beans put letters in their letter box before on the big black box, and then they were taken to be delivered like magic, so that made the most logical sense to him. He’d have to go outside to send it, but if he went now and waited till the sun went down, he would be able to scale the letterbox under the cover of darkness and do it with less risk. 

Tommy set the letter down beside him as he prepared to descend from the window sill to the outside world. The wind had picked up a little bit, but the Borrower was confident in his abilities to scale down the wall without any issues. Just like climbing up and down the trees back in the forest. Hook in, and descend down. Piece of cake.

Once he was sure his hook was secure, Tommy gathered up the letter in one arm before raising his other to shield his eyes from the setting sun, basking in the serenity of the afternoon as a chilly breeze blew through his golden curls.

Tommy exhaled a content sigh. He missed watching the sunset through the trees of the forest, the soft music of trees swaying and birds chirping as they did their birdie things. Hopefully he’d be reunited with his old nook and could enjoy them like he once did again soon. His letter was sure to fix everything. 

Santa would fix everything.

Tommy gently closed his eyes to savour the feeling one last time, but the boy lingered for just a moment too long as a strong gust of wind was all it took to throw the Borrower off balance and snatch his letter from his grasp, sending it flying off with the wind.

“NO!” The blonde shouted, watching as his letter drifted left and right off into the distance. 

It was almost magical in a sense, as he watched how it danced through the air and Tommy had to wonder, what if that was intentional. Santa had managed to do things he didn’t think possible with his magic, so perhaps he knew when letters were addressed to him and sent a magic wind to collect it for him?

Yeah that made sense! Good old Santa Claus looking out for his favourite Borrower! Prime he should have thanked Santa more in his letter.

Satisfied with coming to this conclusion, Tommy packed up his gear before heading back to the walls for a well deserved rest; blissfully unaware of the true whereabouts of his letter as it drifted through the wind over buildings and roads, before finally flying straight into a certain brunettes face on his way back from the shops.

“What on Earth?!” Wilbur grabbed at the piece of paper from his face prepared to throw it away before abruptly coming to a stop to read the bright, red scrawl across the front.

“Okay, interesting spelling.” Wilbur examined the poorly addressed letter. 

It was obviously a lost Christmas letter written on what looked like sheet music from some kid judging by the spelling and array of doodles. Little faces in the O’s to make it look like Santa, but obnoxiously written in capital letters to make it stand out. It made him think of Tommy and how he went into all the finer details of his life that he couldn’t help but opt to read the childish letter and pique his growing curiosity. 

Dear Santa

Hi, it's Tommy! TommyInnit the Borrower you spoke to on Christinimass Eve. I’m sure I don’t need to explain which Tommy to you being the most amazing Tommy to exist ever but anyways I’m writing this letter to ask for your help.

Firstly, thank you for all the pogger gifts. They’re all so AWESOME so thank you! (Like seriously, you are the Greatest Man alive- After me of course >:3 )

Anyways, the reason I sent you this letter. You know Wilbitch Wilbur? The Human Bean that kidnapped me? Well I’ve decided to be the bigger man and befriend him despite him kidnapping me and destroying my home (You know it’s still in his living room slowly dying? Weirdo).

Thing is, I don’t really know how to do that. I know you said I can trust him, but I’m still scared of what he might do to me if he finds out I’ve been using and taking his stuff. I know his schedule by heart at this point and wait till he leaves to get anything done outside the walls, but ever since talking to you I’ve felt so lonely. I loved talking to you but I know I can’t do that with you all the time so I’m willing to give the Bean a chance. 

Do you have any ideas for how I can talk to him?

Thank you for your help and if you do this I won’t even ask for a Christmas present this year!!! Seriously I won’t!!!  I would just like a friend.

From the coolest Borrower ever,

-Tommy

P.S. You’re the best.

Wilbur couldn’t believe his eyes.

It- It was a letter to Santa, from Tommy.

His Tommy.

This was it! This was his in, his chance!!!

Wilbur carefully folded the letter back in half and slipped it into his trench coat pocket before hurrying home, formulating a plan of action the whole way. Finally he had a shot to befriend Tommy and there was no way he was going to waste it.

༘⋆ ❅ ･:*:｡ ❆ ₊˚ ｡⋆❆⋆｡˚₊ ⋆ ⁺₊❅⋆ ⁺₊❆⋆

Waiting.

Waiting..

More waiting…

Great. Just great.

Wilbur couldn’t help but keep his eyes glued to the clock on the class room wall. His leg bounced in anticipation as the minutes ticked by to the end of the day. He should really be listening to his lecturer, but it was almost impossible to do so when all the uni student could think of was getting home as quickly as possible.

The only way to catch Tommy would be by surprise, and to do that would be to break his schedule. 

Wilbur couldn’t lie and say he didn’t love a well structured schedule. It was the only way he found he really ever got anything done and if sticking to his timed out plan was the way to do that, then so be it. Sometimes that meant postponing other things like hangouts and was a pain, but right now it was his ticket to meeting one Borrower. 

His Plan- Get home an hour earlier than normal by skipping study and hope to catch Tommy in the open.

Okay, so yes the whole plan was just one big gamble. It’s not like he got home at exactly the same time every day so he doubted Tommy was going to be out borrowing still even if he was home early, but it’s the best idea he’s got. The letter said Tommy knew his schedule so being early was rarity for him. It’s not going to hurt to give it a try. 

He’ll either see Tommy, or he won’t. 

Wilbur idly traced the words of Tommy's letter as he sat and waited for his lecturer to signal the end of class. So much energy and bright smiles were hidden beneath the red writing and he wanted to know it all. 

After what felt like an eternity, his lecture finally ended and the brunette wasted no time in gathering up his things and racing out the door. He didn’t really need to sprint home, especially given that the roads were still a bit icy, but there was no time to waste. 

It only took a matter of minutes for him to reach the end of his street, huffing and panting. He took his time walking down to his house allowing himself to catch his breath and recompose himself for the task at hand. 

This was a stealth operation. No loud noises allowed.

Wilbur treaded lightly up to his front door, taking out his keys holding the key chains tight to prevent any jingling sounds before slipping the key in the lock. He turned the key as slowly as he dared, opening the door in a similar manner, before poking his head inside the door frame, eyes immediately looking to spots he thought the small borrower child might be hiding. 

No signs of Tommy.

Wilbur crept into the hallway, closing the door behind him with a loud click. “Shoot.” he muttered before slapping a hand over his mouth sharply, before realising his mistake as he cringed at the slight stinging pain now blooming across his jaw. 

‘Don’t talk, you idiot!’ Wilbur internally chastised himself. 

Ignoring his first blunder, Wilbur quietly shuffled across the carpet to peek into the living room. Nothing appeared out of place, and Tommy’s spot on the book shelf remained as empty as ever. 

‘Not here,’  Wilbur thought as he turned and tiptoed across the hallway. ‘Try the kitchen. Just slow and steady, keep quiet, move slow and steady and- ‘CREAKKKKKKK’  An old floorboard groaned loudly as it took the man’s weight. 

‘So much for stealth.’

Holding onto a sliver of hope he hadn’t messed up, Wilbur peered into the kitchen. Just like the living room, everything remained untouched and just the same as ever. Wilbur sighed heavily, dropping his bag loudly in defeat. If Tommy had been here, there was no way he hadn’t heard that floorboard move.

Resigning himself to his failed efforts, Wilbur didn’t bother to stay quiet as he trudged into the kitchen defeated. He flung the kitchen cupboard open, grabbing the BBQ crackers from the top shelf cracking the package open. He then grabbed a bottle of water from the fridge and his bag from the floor before moving off to his room. 

So his one and only plan didn’t work, now what was he going to do? Guess he’d have to try and think of another time to break his schedule that wouldn’t compromise his study life a different way. 

The brunette sighed as he grabbed his phone, chucking on one of his favourite playlists and booting up his Bluetooth speaker. Might as well do some study since he skipped his study block back at the campus. It was as he sat down his stomach suddenly grumbled. 

Oh, right- the crackers.

Wilbur rose from his chair and moved through the halls before abruptly coming to a stop and hiding behind the kitchen door. There was movement from the BBQ Crackers packet. The man’s breath got stuck in his throat as he watched a tiny blonde boy emerge from the packaging with a cracker looking extremely pleased with themself, as they set it down next to a little blue bag. 

Tommy.

Wilbur couldn’t help but stare as he watched the boy work. He should have known that Tommy would come out for food. It never occurred to him that he would try and get the discarded crackers when they were left out on the bench. It was dangerous for the Borrower considering he was home and could be seen, but it was easy access for the boy so of course the risk would be worth it.

With careful precision to avoid the creaky floorboards, Wilbur crept forward. Said blonde had crawled back into the Crackers packet and was distracted. He didn’t want to scare Tommy away, but the boy was far too close to the electrical socket and he’d determined it was a wall entry/exit a while ago. The last thing he wanted was for Tommy to bolt.

It wasn’t till he was about a step or two away that the Borrower popped back out of the bag with another cracker in tow.

It was now or never.

“Ahem,” Wilbur cleared his throat and tried not to feel guilty, as he watched the Borrower on the bench flinch, stumbling back in surprise. “Hi there.”

Wilbur remained completely still as he watched in anticipation for what the blonde would do next. Tommy’s face seemed to morph 100 different ways all at once before stopping at terrified as they processed the situation. The pure terror on the Borrowers face showed he knew there was no escaping this, as their eyes darted around trying to formulate the next best course of action despite their seemingly ‘dire’ situation, but Wilbur continued to remain calm. 

He needed Tommy to understand he wasn’t in danger. 

The silence stretched on for a few more moments, only broken by the sound of the cracker Tommy had been clutching to his chest, snapping into several pieces. The borrower was so frightened for being caught, he’d subconsciously been clutching the cracker tighter and tighter till it snapped. 

“Can I help with that?” Wilbur asked, pointing to the broken cracker in the boy's lap as he stepped closer. 

Tommy was fast to react. The blonde sprung to his feet, cracker and equipment forgotten as they bolted for the electrical socket.

“No wait, STOP!” Wilbur cried as lunged forward to stop the boy. Before he even realised what he’d done, he’d swept the Borrower up in his hand, the boy now kicking and screaming in his grasp. 

“LET ME GO!!!” he shrieked as they dug and scratched their nails into Wilbur's skin. 

Tommy felt the way the hand flexed as he did so, but his attempts weren’t enough to get the man to budge. This was only the second time he’d ever been picked up by a human, and it was nothing like the way Santa had treated him. It felt far too tight and confining and Tommy wanted nothing more than to be free of it. Tommy always knew that Human Beans could be fast, but he never realised just how fast they actually might be.

His futile attempt to make it back to the walls had been wishful thinking at best. Now the very real threat of his head being popped off for being caught stealing the Bean's food had his heart hammering out of his chest. He was going to continue his plans of bloody murder, but as his stomach lurched and he was lifted up and away from the counter, all attempts died off as he was brought closer to his impending doom's face. He couldn’t suppress the small whimper that slipped as his body shook as the Bean seemingly studied every inch of him, before their eyebrows furrowed. 

“Hey, hey it’s alright.” Wilbur reassured. “I’m not going to hurt you Tommy.”

Tommy’s blood ran cold. 

How did he know his name?

No, no he couldn’t have. He’d been careful. Never seen, not once. There was no way Wilbur could have known he was here let alone his name right? Right???

“How the heck do you know my name?” he spat. 

Did this mean they knew he was here? Had the Bean been trying to lure him out this entire time just so they could trap him and punish him for taking their stuff?

“Ahhh so about that..” Wilbur began before quickly adjusting his grip and reached into his coat pocket, pulling out a small, thin piece of paper with red scribbled all over it. “I got your letter. It didn’t quite make it to the North Pole I’m afraid.”

Tommy couldn’t believe his eyes.

It was his letter to Santa.

All his worst fears were confirmed in the Beans grasp. If Wilbur had his letter then that meant he DEFINITELY had read it and would know everything!! As if magic wind was a real thing! Prime, why did he think writing to Santa when it was no longer Christmas would be a good idea? 

“Hey, hey it’s okay. I’m not going to hurt you Tommy, I just want to talk honestly.” Wilbur tried to reassure as he placed the letter down. The boy only shook his head in response, trembling as they squeezed their eyes shut expecting the worst.

“Okay, I know you’re scared Tommy, but I’ve read your letter, and I just want to help you. You can trust me I-” 

“WHY SHOULD I TRUST YOU?!” The boy shrieked. “YOU SNATCHED ME OFF THE TABLE AND ARE HOLDING ME AGAINST MY WILL!”

“Well yes I know, and I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to grab you, I just didn’t want you to run away!” 

“If you’re really sorry then you’ll let me go!” Tommy pleaded, tears starting to well up in his eyes. “Please just let me go.”

Wilbur sighed, realising his terrific plan to speak to Tommy wouldn’t get very far with their current circumstances. If the roles were reversed, he’d be rightly terrified out of his mind too. You’d think after all his research on Borrowers, this is something he’d be aware of. Looking around the kitchen, he knew he couldn’t just put them down on the bench and risk the boy making another run for it, and instead turned and headed for the dining room table, despite the boy's sniffling cries.

“Tommy, I’m going to put you down now.” Wilbur explained, trying to be gentle as he sat down on one of the wooden chairs.  “I promise I won’t hurt you and you can leave straight after, I just want to talk.”

The boy didn’t speak as he brought his hands down to the wooden surface and slowly released his grip. The blonde immediately wriggled out from his fingers and dropped to the table with a slight thud, but was just as quickly scooting away from his hands now he was free. Wilbur brought his hands away and slipped them under the table into his lap to be less intimidating, but could see Tommy was still highly on edge as they tried to gain distance. He was breathing heavily, eyes fixated on him with a terrified expression, seemingly knowing that he had no hope of getting away in the Beans presence. 

He felt bad for putting them in such a vulnerable position, but if he wanted any hope to get him home, then they needed to talk properly- face to face. 

“There,” Wilbur said, retracting his hands placatingly. “See, you’re fine.”

Tommy didn’t look particularly convinced, his eyes red from crying and snot running down his nose. Like seriously, who did this guy think he was? After the way he just behaved, why should he trust him?

“Define fine.” The boy snapped hugging himself as he turned away so he didn’t have to face the brunette's constant staring.

Wilbur sighed. Why did he have to be so stubborn? He’s the one that wanted to make friends in the first place.

Wilbur glanced at the letter he’d placed on the edge of the table. Tommy was the one that wanted to talk to him but was just unsure of how to approach him. But instead here he’d come waltzing in and frantically grabbed him without any consideration for how this would make him look. The boy believed Santa when he told him he was a good guy, but any truth in that was gone and rightfully so. In Tommy’s eyes, Wilbur didn’t deserve to be trusted. 

How could you trust someone that held your life in their hands?

Wilbur sighed as he knew how to fix this, as much as he didn’t want to admit it, but if he wanted Tommy to trust him then his actions had to match his words.

“Okay so I know I didn’t make the best first impression so how about we start over?” Wilbur tried even slinking down to be a bit lower so he wasn’t looming over him so much. “My names Wilbur and if you need anything you can just ask okay?” 

Tommy didn’t reply, even going as far to give him the finger which had the man having to suppress a laugh despite it being fair. He waited for the blonde to speak up a little longer but it didn’t seem the Borrower would be talking any time soon.

Sighing realising this wasn’t going to work, Wilbur stood from the table and walked back to the kitchen. Tommy remained still only glancing a little bit to the side when he heard crackling of plastic, before the heavy foot falls of Wilbur's return signaled he was back before something was put down behind him, and a chair was dragged out and around from the table facing backwards.

“So I don’t blame you for not trusting me. I should have realised how my actions would have affected you so I won’t keep you any longer.” Wilbur stepped back from the table and around to the other side where Tommy could see him and towards the hallway back to his room.

“I’ve uh- left the chair next to the table so you can get down with your hook and things, and I promise I won’t go looking for you, but if you ever need anything- please don’t hesitate to ask.” Wilbur took a deep breath and exhaled as he rubbed the back of his head. “I hope in time, maybe we could be friends.”

After waiting for a reply and receiving none, Wilbur turned and walked into his room, closing the door with a soft click before walking over and flopping onto his bed. He couldn’t force Tommy to trust him. He just had to hope giving them space might change the kids' mind.

The second the Bean was gone, Tommy didn’t hesitate to grab his things and descend down the chair with his hook. He then booked it for the nearest wall entrance he could find and didn’t stop running until he was back in his little room in the walls. 

His heart pounded realising how close that had all been and now there was no time to waste.

Hastily he began to load his clothes into his bag and supplies for the journey he had ahead. He couldn’t stay now Wilbur actively knew of his existence. He’d been at the complete mercy of the Bean and that was never going to happen ever again. He kept doing this until he had completely stuffed his pack. As he prepared to leave he made his way to the door and had one final look around at his home for anything he missed. 

He couldn't pick up on anything specific, not until his eyes landed on the card from Santa. All those happy days he had gotten from just waking up to a pretty card. His encounter with Santa the best day of his life and the reason he was so comfortable here now at all. The memory felt bitter sweet now though, as he trudged over to the card, picking it up harshly flipping it over for one last read.

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.

“Not as scary as you think my ass.” Tommy spat bitterly as he set it back in place. 

So what if he’d apologised a bunch of times? That didn’t change the fact he almost hadn’t been freed at all. Sure he’d escaped now, but Wilbur might have just made it look like he was free to go as an act to trick him into feeling guilty enough to stay to catch him later. 

But then again, he did apologise a lot and gave him a quick way back down the table. If he really thought about it, he hadn’t looked like he was going to hurt him or anything, just guilty he’d grabbed him in the first place. In fact he hadn’t really done anything besides scare the living daylights out of him by snatching him up.

It was perfectly logical for him to be scared of being grabbed, but apart from that, had the Bean actually done anything wrong? He was just reacting to the situation, and if he had read his letter, then maybe it wasn’t as bad as he thought. 

But no that can’t be right? He can’t seriously be considering Wilbur not a threat after all that?

“Ughhhh my head hurts!” He groaned frustratedly before dropping his pack to the floor and flopping head first into his bed. Why do Human Beans never make sense? Tommy curled himself into the fabric squeezing the sock blanket tightly in his grasp. This was all far too much for him to think about right now. 

The events of the day finally seemed to catch up to him as he laid there, adrenaline wearing off, replaced with a heavy fatigue. Perhaps sleeping would be better than trying to leave right this second? Who knew when he’d have another chance once he started the move. 

Rather than fight it, Tommy soon fell asleep, snuggled in his bed, his thoughts dreaming of what ifs and Wilbur.

༘⋆ ❅ ･:*:｡ ❆ ₊˚ ｡⋆❆⋆｡˚₊ ⋆ ⁺₊❅⋆ ⁺₊❆⋆

The next day, Tommy had yet to leave.

He’d spent most of the morning mulling over his options and what the best course of action was and was having a hard time making up his mind.

On the one hand, leaving meant he was 100% safe from Wilbur and whatever his plans might be, whether they be good intentions or not. But on the other hand, that meant giving up the space he’d spent so long getting right and traversing the winter terrain without a guarantee of finding a place that was safe to stay in. While the Bean knew of his presence, at least he had a warm bed and didn’t have to worry about frostbite. But of course that still left one problem: 

Wilbur.

The more he replayed yesterday's events over in his mind the more he wanted to believe that maybe, just maybe Wilbur was one of the good Beans. It’s not like he’d ever met or interacted with one before he came here. Everything he knew of them came from stories and warnings from his parents about Borrowers getting trapped in Jars and what not, but there was always some truth in stories one way or another. 

Still though, he had one thing going for him that no other Bean did. Santa trusted him. And while Tommy may not trust him, (not completely anyways) perhaps there was a way he could test them.

Tommy had his borrowing bag strapped to his back and his hook and rope at his side as he sat perched atop the bookshelf in the living room, watching and waiting for Wilbur to enter. He’d test the Bean. See if he stayed true to his word and be in plain sight of the man and see if he was worthy of his presence. If he tried to catch him or hurt him in any way, all he had to do was get back through the crack in the wall and grab the rest of his things and book it out of there.

The blonde's knee bounced in anticipation. It was one thing trying not to be seen by a being 100x your size, but another to willingly just be waiting in the open for your maybe/maybe not demise to show up. Strange how the last time he stood out here, he did so waiting for Santa happily, but now it felt like he half wanted to throw up as he waited for the brunette to show.

His thoughts must have summoned him, because entered an exhausted Wilbur with a cup of coffee in hand before they plonked themself down on the couch. He took a long sip and sighed before putting the cup down and threw their head back against the couch. 

He looked sad. Big dark bags under his eyes and he was frowning as he stared up at the ceiling. Tommy couldn’t help but think that was probably his fault. Seems yesterday's events had affected Wilbur just as much as it had him and he did feel a bit guilty for that. Did he really care that much he’d lose sleep over him? 

Only one way to find out.

“Ahem.” Tommy cleared his throat and the Bean jolted up almost immediately, head looking around wildly for the source. 

“Hey, up here big man.” The boy called with a wave to down below and clenched his hook tightly with the other hand as the brunette's sweeping gaze snapped up onto him.  “Sorry if I- uh startled you.”

“No, no it’s fine, I just- I thought you left.” Wilbur said as he turned himself to be better facing the Borrower without leaving the couch. 

“Why would I do that?” Tommy asked even though he knew the answer. 

“Well, I don’t know I just thought- I’d scared you away.” Wilbur looked away, staring at his coffee as if it was far more interesting than the boy on his shelf. “I figured you’d have left because of how I- how I um..”

“Grabbed me?” Tommy asked, raising a brow as he did so.

“Yeah… I truly am sorry about that. I never should have reacted like that. I don’t know what I was thinking. I promise I never planned to do anything to you when I did, I just- my hand moved without thinking and yeah. I’m sorry Tommy.” 

“It wasn’t particularly nice of you.” Tommy tried to ignore the tingly sensation of phantom hands wrapping around him as he stood up. “I just felt so helpless when you did.” 

Wilbur nodded sadly in agreement. “Yeah I can’t imagine what it must feel like for you. Based on what I read in your letter, it must be really hard living at your size when everything is so big.”

“Well I was born this way. I learned to live cautiously to protect myself. You Beans are just too busy thinking of yourselves than about who else might be living out of sight.” Tommy glanced down to Wilbur and noticed how the Bean twiddled their thumbs in their lap, gaze now resting on the table and a familiar piece of paper. His Letter.

“Hey I’ve got to ask,” Tommy started as Wilbur brought his head back up to the shelf. “How did you get your hands on my letter? Last I saw it, it was flying out in the wind randomly to who knows where.”

Wilbur chuckled as he leaned over and picked up the letter carefully to admire the craftsmanship of it once more. “Well, I was walking home from grocery shopping the other day and it kind of just flew into my face. It was by chance that I decided to open it and read it that I noticed the paper was one of my discarded music sheets I use for scrap paper. Kind of connected the dots from there since it was my work and here we are.”

Tommy nodded as he listened. He supposed that made more sense than magic wind, even if the chances of it flying into Wilbur's face were bizarrely low. 

“Still a shame it didn’t make it to Santa. I wanted to thank him properly for what he did for me.”

“You could always write him another letter if you want.” Wilbur suggested. “I don’t mind helping you if you like.” 

Tommy nodded considering the idea before speaking up. “I think you might have to write to Santa for yourself though. You’ll probably be on his naughty list for a while when I tell him about everything that’s happened.” 

Wilbur smiled as he nodded in agreement. “Yeah I deserve that. I’ll have to really work hard to get back on the nice list then won’t I?”

“You sure will. Gonna take a lot to get back in his good books though.” 

Wilbur smiled as he set the letter back down and leaned back into the couch. “Do you have any ideas on how I could do that?”

Tommy scratched his head for a moment in thought.

“Well for starters you’d have to be extra nice and always use proper manners like asking before you do something.” 

Wilbur nodded as the boy continued. “And you’d have to always announce your presence coming in and out of rooms cause if you don’t that’s just rude.”

Wilbur couldn’t help but chuckle as Tommy kept listing nice specific things off. “Anything else?”

“Annnnd always leave extra food out on the counters- specifically the BBQ crackers and chocolate because that’s how you show you're being extra nice.”

“Right, well it sounds like I’ve got my work cut out for me then.” Wilbur replied as he looked back up to where Tommy stood upon the shelf. The boy seemed rather pleased with himself before he realised he was in sight and timidly stepped back from view. 

“I’ve got to ask though, why are you still here? I assumed the last place you’d want to be is anywhere near me and well, yeah.” It was a question that was starting to eat at him as why the Borrower would go against the code and all the other things he had read about not making sense.

“Well initially, I was going to leave straight away, yes. But with all the snow on the ground and not knowing the area, it made the decision of leaving more complicated so I’m giving talking one last shot and then deciding.” 

Wilbur smiled as he felt warm that the blonde was at least giving him a chance, even if they had their hesitations. He didn’t blame Tommy for being wary after everything that had transpired but maybe there was still hope to salvage things.

“Hey Tommy, do you think maybe we could start over?” the brunette asked. “I think we got off on the wrong foot and I’d really like to show I mean you know harm.” 

Tommy stood back from the shelf edge where he couldn’t see the Bean. This was exactly what he wanted. A chance for the Bean to prove himself and he hadn’t even had to ask. 

Wilbur watched the bookshelf nervously waiting for a response. What if he’d over stepped? He didn’t have to wait long for an answer as the blonde came back into view with his arms behind his back, before breaking into a smile.

“Yeah, that would be nice. But don’t even think about putting me in a jar cause I know Santa and Santa will absolutely beat your ass if you do.” 

“And why would he do that?” Wilbur smirked teasingly.

“Because,” Tommy stated. “I’m his favourite.”

Wilbur’s heart melted as the boy blew a raspberry at him before pulling a bunch of different faces. In a way, he guessed it was true. 

Tommy was his favourite.

And he wasn’t going to mess this opportunity up a second time.

༘⋆ ❅ ･:*:｡ ❆ ₊˚ ｡⋆❆⋆｡˚₊ ⋆ ⁺₊❅⋆ ⁺₊❆⋆

In the days to come, Wilbur and Tommy began to slowly get to know each other. 

Albeit at a distance with Tommy still hiding on shelves and behind items that he was sort of a discombobulated voice, but it was a start and made the Borrower feel safer.

Wilbur didn’t mind in the slightest as they were actually talking and making progress! If Wilbur thought Tommy had talked a lot on their Santa encounter, well the kid had certainly been holding back as they chatted away about anything and everything they could speak on.

In fact, soon the two were bantering back and forth like they’d been life long friends and it didn’t take long for Tommy to start showing himself on the shelves. 

Wilbur was always super cautious around the boy and made sure to give him space, and even gave him extra warning about what he was doing to ease the boy more around his presence. While Tommy initially had his reservations, he was quickly beginning to see what Santa had meant in his card. 

Wilbur truly was doing everything he possibly could to show he wanted to help him and be friends and that gave Tommy the confidence to take the next step and actually be in close proximity with the man rather than the safety of shelves. 

Eventually, Tommy would tell Wilbur of how he came to be in his apartment and Wilbur would offer to take Tommy back to his home. It didn’t take long for the boy to realise how close he’d actually grown to the Bean and when the time came to actually go, the Borrower would decide that maybe the Forest wasn’t necessarily his home any more. 

From there, the two continued to grow closer and eventually table talks turned to movie nights on the couch, to hand cuddles on chilly days. And whenever things got too much, Wilbur gave Tommy the space he needed and one day Tommy realised that Santa was right.

Wilbur wasn’t as scary as he once believed. 

In fact, he finally had a friend he could depend on.

Just like he had always wanted.

༘⋆ ❅ ･:*:｡ ❆ ₊˚ ｡⋆❆⋆｡˚₊ ⋆ ⁺₊❅⋆ ⁺₊❆⋆

Annnnnnnnnnnnd that's a wrap!!!

Thank you so much if you read the whole thing through. It was a lot of fun to write as it's not the kind of topic I see written about very often and especially not in a gt sense so I loved exploring what Santa is to a Borrower that lived outside most of their life never knowing about these things.

HUGE Thank you to @quotemenevervore for beta reading and helping me get unstuck to write the ending!!! Always very thankful for your input and so glad I got this done before Christmas like I planned <3

Thanks again to everyone who's stuck around and continues to enjoy my writing despite all the circumstances of previous creators constantly changing. As times gone on, while I still really enjoy writing these characters, new ideas to use them in the future have certainly been becoming less, so I still fully intend to finish JORNOS but after that's done, I have one more chapter fic I want to post and then I think I might explore some new characters. Dunno yet tbh. Work is being a pain and will probably continue to delay new stuff, but I'm certainly not done yet :3

Anyways that's my last fic for this year so Merry Christmas and a Happy New Year and I'll see you all on the next fic <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 @box-beanz @gracideaviolet @a-xyz-s

[beansthough]

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.

[brick-a-doodle-do]

ITS DOOOOONE WOOHOOOOOOO FIC TIMEEE :3333

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

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

(title from doomsday by derivakat)

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

wc: 6748

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

—-—

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Shut up! I'm thinking,” XD insists. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

Wilbur glares at XD. 

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

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

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

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

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

His heart sinks. Tommy.

“Or a pest. Your pest.”

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

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

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

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

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

“Which one, Spiderman?” XD persists. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

(*)

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

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

Wilbur. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

(*)

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

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

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

Tommy. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

(*)

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

you’re not hurt, man—”

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

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

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

Oh.

Oh.

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

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

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

“Are you mad at me?”

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

Wilbur winces. Bastard.

“I’m sorry,” the man whispers.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Wilbur stays quiet.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I thought we were resting, dick.”

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

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

He has such a way with words.

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

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

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

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

—-—

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