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frogs-in3-hills · 10 months ago

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hey do y’all remember when i said i might post that crimeboys & bedrock bros avatar fusion AU i’d written like 2 yrs ago? because. i might have just impulsively decided to clean up the first of two chapters and. yeah.

short disclaimer: i’m not in the dsmp fandom anymore, i don’t fully remember how to write these characters or even entirely where i was going with this fic, so don’t expect a continuation. sorry!! i'm just posting this for the sillies and for the couple of people who said they were interested. also, obligatory apology for referencing the gene yang comics in even the vaguest of senses…. i like the general conceit of the promise way more than uh... what they actually did with it.

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Safe Return (11,240 words) sorry about the length but y'all know me :|

Characters: Tommyinnit, Wilbur Soot, Technoblade, Captain Puffy

Tags: Avatar: the Last Airbender fusion, Tommyinnit-centric, angst and fluff, alternate universe, Wilbur and Tommy are brothers, found family, unhealthy relationships, no beta

CW: fucked up immigration policy and a few stomach/gut-based analogies that may trigger emetophobia. also be aware of very lightly implied exile arc and briefly referenced suicidal tendencies.

Summary: Wilbur enlists the help of a stranger in the hopes of getting safely into Ba Sing Se. Tommy is not very pleased with this development, but they both know he'll follow Wilbur anyway.

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“Names?”

“Wilbur, ma’am. And he’s Tommy.”

Tommy flinched a little as Wilbur placed a hand on his shoulder. It was loud. They’d been standing underground for a few hours now, and before that they’d been waiting in the line trailing outside of Full Moon Bay since the early, early morning. The air was unpleasant in the same way it feels gross to hold a raw egg in your hands, bloated with sweat and the quiet shuffle of feet. The sooner Tommy was out of here, the better.

The woman before them had a perpetual pucker to her lips, as if she were holding something sour between her teeth. She raised a thin eyebrow.

“Hm… those are some unusual names. Where are you from, Wilbur and Tommy?”

Wilbur’s grip tightened slightly, and Tommy shuddered, worming two fingers into his pocket to fiddle with a loose thread.

“Well —” Wilbur started, but he could barely be heard over the hustle and bustle. He cleared his throat. “Well, we hail from Yu Dao, but we’ve been traveling north longer than we can remember, so we…”

Wilbur trailed off. Despite having asked, the woman looked uninterested in their story. Tommy could practically hear the social-interaction-cogs turning in Wilbur’s head. Distantly, he recalled a few minutes ago when Wilbur had begged him to “be civil” when they talked to the immigration officer.

Well, Wil had been too distracted to notice he never actually agreed to that, so he didn’t feel that bad for glaring daggers into the woman’s eyes. It was the least he could do, really.

“I see,” she drawled. “Passports?”

“We’re just humble refugees seeking asylum and work in the great walls of Ba Sing Se, ma’am,” Wilbur said.

“Either of you boys have an education? Or any in-demand skills?”

Wilbur sucked in a breath and his hand left Tommy’s shoulder. His words were familiar, a few short sentences having been practiced a hundred times over. “Both Tommy and I have a unique skillset from working a variety of jobs. I have political experience and he’s well-versed in agriculture and animal care. And we—we’re both young and can pick things up quickly. I’m confident we can—”

The woman raised her hand and Wilbur’s mouth clamped shut. The sight of it made Tommy want to strangle both of them. He wove the thread in his pocket so tight that it threatened to cut off the circulation in his fingers.

After a moment of uncomfortable silence, Wilbur attempted to continue. “…We can be of value to this great city’s community if… if you would lend us the opportunity…”

Oh my god, shut up! Tommy thought. This was it, wasn’t it? Their entire lives basically ruined in thirty seconds. Wilbur was bungling it, wasn’t he? Tommy should… Wil just needed a bit of inspiration. Right. Tommy gave him a gentle and motivational stomp on the foot.

Calm down, idiot, Tommy attempted to communicate to him through eye contact alone. He wasn’t sure if it worked. Wilbur only responded with a series of difficult expressions, all layered thinly under his best imitation of a more pleasant kind of human being, which made it hard to tell.

The woman sighed, sounding sort of dissatisfied, and then her eyes turned sharply to inspect Tommy.

“Show me your hands, little boy,” she said, her voice pitching somewhat as if she was trying to sound more approachable. Tommy felt butterflies rear in his stomach, anyways. He swallowed back the instinctual “I’m not a little boy, I’m fifteen!” retort and slowly presented his hands.

They were bony, nimble, fingers sprinkled lightly with scrapes and small moles. On the back of his left hand, a burn scar trailed from just under his sleeve and all the way down to his elbow. His nails left four angry, crescent-shaped indents in each palm as he unclenched his fists.

She reached out and snatched one of his hands.

Tommy hissed, immediately trying to yank it back to no avail as she ran a scrutinizing thumb over the tips of his fingers.

“What the fuck?” He shouted, the crude words slipping out of his mouth before he could stop them. “Don’t touch me!”

Her fingers felt soggy, like when a grandma kisses you on the cheek but without any of the affection. After a moment of tug o’ war, the woman, seemingly mollified, let go. Tommy stumbled backwards into Wilbur. Two warm, steadying hands met both his shoulders, and this time, Tommy wasn’t even sure if it felt comforting or restricting.

“I’m so sorry, ma’am, he didn’t—” Wilbur started, attempting some damage control. Tommy would normally have been offended that Wilbur wasn’t taking his side, but the protective grip on his shoulders told him that Wilbur was just as upset as he was.

“Save your breath, young man,” the woman interrupted, then gave them a little lopsided smile that didn’t quite reach her eyes. “I can’t admit you. Look at all these people behind you, they’re hard workers, and they have nowhere else to go. You tell me this kid’s a rancher of sorts, but look at his hands; he hasn’t worked a day in his life. We simply don’t have room for everyone.”

“Please, you need to understand—”

“I’ve worked! I’ve worked fucking plenty, bitch!”

“Denied. Next!” the woman called, waving a hand at them as if dismissing servants from her court. Tommy thought, optimistically, maybe she was just tired. Maybe he was just tired and none of this was actually happening. But then he blinked, and when he opened her eyes, her face was painted with cruelty instead. Maybe.

His stomach ignited with anger, but Wilbur reigned him in. “Tommy, we can’t—look, there are guards all around. Let’s go.”

It was true. Tommy glanced up to see that a group of women in guard uniform were standing in a group near the wall. One of them met Tommy’s eyes, but she didn’t seem like she was gearing up to drag them out or kill them or anything. For a moment, Tommy was distracted—they all looked extremely cool—but another tug on his arm reminded him of the situation.

“Ugh, but Wil—”

“I’m afraid we have no more business here.” The finality in Wilbur’s voice shut Tommy up long enough for him to twist around, practically dragging Tommy with him as he began to powerwalk to the exit.

Well, it was more like he was confidently squirming through the gaps in the crowd. Tommy pressed closer, growing ever more conscious of the mass of people in the huge station. The rumble of chatter soaked through his ears and into his brain. He could barely think. He was gonna—it was ruined. Everything had gone wrong.

Tommy made an effort to step on Wilbur’s heels as they walked, trying to distract himself from the fact that he wanted to spew his guts all over the floor or something.

But Wilbur just ignored him. His entire body felt too light, like butterflies but worse. Like if all the butterflies had turned to worms and they were eating him from the inside out now.

Still staring straight ahead, Wilbur’s grip slid from Tommy’s forearm down to lace with his fingers. Tommy tried not to rip his hand away.

They eventually made their way out of the cove. It was bordering on late afternoon, the sun low enough to cast long, dark shadows but not quite tired enough to set. Outside, something of a town had formed, though still innocuous as to avoid raising suspicion from the Fire Nation. The trailing line was shorter than it had been when they’d arrived, and Tommy reveled a little in the fact that he was right that they hadn’t needed to wake up in the asscrack of dawn and stupid Wilbur was wrong.

The two went to sit, finally, against the side wall of a small shack. As soon as Tommy felt like he could breathe right again, he yanked his hand away from Wilbur’s and stuffed it back into his pocket.

He could tell Wil was looking at him, probably something very interesting and complicated happening on his face. Eventually, he turned away to face the rocky shore, murmuring, “That was it, then.”

Tommy felt his throat do a laugh-so-you-don’t-cry thing and he kicked his heel against the wall, which was only a little better than just stamping his foot like a child.

“I don’t know what the fuck they’re looking for in refugees if not—if—I don’t know how we didn’t—!” he started to ramble.

He looked back at the lines of families, waiting so patiently, only to be turned down like them. Some were injured or ill. There had been women holding their children close to them, people from all over the Earth Kingdom come to escape the war.

“Yeah,” Wilbur said, morosely shoving his stupid beanie back over his stupid hair.

Tommy felt warm tears building in his vision, so he wiped his eyes roughly with his sleeve. “Haven’t worked a day in my life—like you—like she can tell my whole fuckin’—a guy’s life story just ‘cause he likes to stay moisturized! Seriously, it’s such bullshit, it’s—it’s—but it’s fine, ‘cause we can just—we’ll just—we—I can, like, I can pretend to be sick and we’ll go back. And they’ll say oohh, we’re so sorry for doubting you Tommy, you’re so sad and destitute and Wilbur is so bitchless, I’ll be a little soggy, they wouldn’t dare—I reckon they’d let in a soggy little man like me.”

“There’s no need for that, Tommy,” Wilbur sighed. “I don’t think having any transmissible diseases is going to help our case anyway. Look, the ferry was our best bet, but it was never our only bet, okay?”

Tommy scoffed. “Oh! I guess now you wanna go with old Tommy Scammy’s plan of forging our passports, great time to get on board, Wil. We already—they already fuckin’ turned us down, alright?”

“No, dude, I mean my plan. The back-up plan.”

Ugh. The backup plan again. Sometimes Wilbur could be so fucking vague with things, always thinking he was the boss and Tommy was just a little kid following along. Making decisions without him and not telling him like he was doing Tommy some big favor. Every time Tommy asked, he was met with a dismissive “don’t worry about it” or an “it won’t even come up”. Clearly, it fucking did, and now Tommy had no say in their next move even though Wilbur was barely older than him. Probably. Well—five years wasn’t that big a gap, was it?

“Well apparently, it’s our plan now,” Tommy corrected. “It’s not the fuckin’ Wilbur Soot show. It’s not—it’s not all about you, you prick bastard.”

Wilbur’s hand juttered between five different motions, like he was trying to exhasperatedly rub his temples and fidget with the hem of his coat at the same time. “I—Tommy, would you say I’ve been self-centered in all this?”

Tommy pressed his lips together. “Fuckin’ trick question.”

He’d meant the whole thing to come off as a joke, or like, one of those things you can take seriously if you agree with it or take it as a joke if you don’t. But he could tell by Wilbur’s wince that maybe he hadn’t gone with the joke interpretation.

“You’re right,” Wilbur said, turning away.

That made Tommy feel kind of bad, but… it’s not like he was wrong, really, and he wasn’t in the habit of enabling Wilbur’s chronic flirtations with his impending emo arc anyway, so he swallowed the vague apology that had begun to form in his mouth. It went down like chalk.

“You’re right about that,” Wil repeated. “Look, I’m just thinking… I know someone willing to guide us. An old friend.”

“Who? Where?” Tommy asked.

Wilbur chewed idly on the broken upper clasp of his coat before muttering, almost as if he was ashamed of the words, “through the Serpent’s Pass.”

Tommy’s breath caught in his throat.

“You want to—the—Wilbur, we—The Serpent’s Pass? What do you mean? We can’t—Wil, we’ll fucking die, Wil.”

“No, we won’t,” Wilbur responded, obviously trying to be firm, but his voice teetered off at the end like he wasn’t so sure.

A flame of frustration bloomed in Tommy’s stomach. “Oh, fuck off, bitch, you—ohh, are you fucking kidding me?! Now, I don’t—I don’t know about you, Wil, but I—I remember what happened last time you wanted to meet up with an old friend. What, you’re risking everything—risking it again because you think—you fuckin’ think some stranger will save us? Yeah, that’s great Wilbur, real great. The fact that it’s called the fuckin’ Serpent’s Pass isn’t springing any red fuckin’ flags in your head, man? Y’know, serpents?! Does that seriously sound like a nice friendly little creature to you?”

“Tommy!” Wilbur hissed, shoving a palm over Tommy’s lips.

“Fucking what?!” Tommy snapped back, though he instinctively lowered his volume to a whisper, following Wilbur’s lead.

Wilbur pressed his hand closer over Tommy’s mouth. “You’re smoking, you brat, that’s fucking what!”

Tommy’s eyes widened as he caught a dark trail of clouds puffing through the gaps of Wilbur’s fingers.

Immediately, Tommy glanced out towards the sparse group of people exiting the cove, probably having been rejected just like them. None of them looked all that interested in the two, nor did anybody seem to notice the tiny plume of smoke wafting out from the top of the small alley they’d settled in.

He had to admit, breathing smoke whenever he got pissy was damningly quirky. And a little inconvenient to the whole secrecy thing.

“Sorry,” Tommy said insincerely, his voice muffled. He reveled in the halfhearted glare that Wilbur sent in return. Tommy licked his hand for good measure.

“Tommy!” Wilbur cried, yanking his hand back.

Hah. Loser.

Wilbur heaved the world-weary sigh of a man who’d been forced to tow around an Innit child for the past three years. Tommy folded his arms and leaned back, satisfied with the amount of annoyance he’d caused within the past thirty seconds. (And maybe feeling a little better now that he’d gone and screamed his frustrations out. Just a bit.)

“I know you and I don’t have the best track record with this kind of thing, but I—I promise this person isn’t like—like. Y’know.”

“Okay, Wil,” Tommy said, really genuinely trying to sound like he believed it even though he didn’t.

It wasn’t like they had much of a choice now. Beggars can’t be choosers and all.

Wilbur studied him for a moment before pointedly turning on his heel, focusing his attention on forming a plan. “This alley might be a good place to settle for the night.”

He wasn’t stupid enough not to notice the transparency of that subject change, but maybe Wilbur was stupid enough not to notice that Tommy noticed? He frowned, picking at the edge of his sleeve. “This is a transport hub. Surely there’s—I reckon there’s somewhere that refugees gather and like, set up little tents, yeah?”

“Yeah,” Wilbur said absently, then turned back around. “Oh. Yeah, you’re right.”

Tommy snorted. Wilbur rolled his eyes.

It felt so achingly close to normal.

Still, they needed to find some food for the night and see if they could find some other folk to sleep near. They still had a few copper pieces and a silver split between them, and food would likely be cheaper at Full Moon Bay to accommodate for the constant influx of poor customers.

In Tommy’s mature, humble opinion, most Earth Kingdom food couldn’t hold a candle to Yu Dao cuisine. Wilbur was lucky—his favorite food had always been crab puffs, which, while not common, could still be found in other parts of the Earth Kingdom. But no amount of squeezing lemons and sprinkling chili flakes into a bowl of soup would ever come close to the suan cai yu back at home.

They eventually found a cheap place and brought a bowl of possum chicken noodles along with them as they perused the barely-existent streets, pretending to be tourists. As was routine, Wilbur took the bowl first, adding some chili flakes from the jar they always kept in their bags, then picking out most of the vegetables Tommy didn’t like. Once he’d eaten half, he handed it off to Tommy, who snatched up the chili flake jar and shook it violently over the leftovers until red became the dominant color in the bowl.

They came across a small encampment of people who hadn’t had time to depart from the harbor before nightfall, or who had arrived in advance and would be trying their luck the next day. And everyone was nice, too. Tommy didn’t even have to watch Wilbur grovel too much trying to get in. He saw one of the cool guard ladies there, but it didn’t seem like she was there for work; she’d shed the outer layer of her uniform to offer as a makeshift dinner plate for some other refugees.

They settled down in a corner against the earthen wall of a tiny house. A few struggling bushes kept them out of sight from most of the other folks, but it wasn’t solitary enough to be rude about it. As soon as they set their packs on the ground, Wilbur was already on his hands and knees, examining the stony slab.

“I think this was earthbent,” he beamed. “Look, you can even see where these pieces of limestone were split.”

Tommy was temped to do his due diligence and call Wilbur a nerd or something, but it was kind of cool, so he figured it wouldn’t be so bad to indulge the guy every once in a while. He still managed to slip in a few insults between Wilbur’s interesting bending facts.

It didn’t take long for most everyone to settle in for the night. Tommy could hear low murmurs drifting from various groups, but didn’t bother to parse what they were saying. It was getting too dark to tell who was who, anyway.

“Y'know, I wanted to ride the ferry,” he remarked, pulling a thin blanket from their pack. "It seemed nice, right?"

Wilbur, who had been scribbling something into a journal, dropped his quill and looked at Tommy. His face twisted into something unidentifiable.

Right—of course—that was childish. The fucking ferry ride to Ba Sing Se, yeah, that was the biggest blow to their plans by far.

Tommy glanced away, worrying the blanket with his thumb.

Obviously he liked acting like a brat, otherwise he wouldn’t do it so much, but he wasn’t an idiot, either. He knew tagging along made things harder for Wilbur and that’s probably the reason he hasn’t gone off to, like, study something awesome or enact political change and stuff. Whatever he wanted to put his big fucking head to. He knew if they’d stayed in Yu Dao, Tommy’d have been drafted a year ago. He was old enough to fight, but all Tommy could think about was boat rides, really? He was…

“Tommy,” Wilbur said, in that way he does when he’s trying to be embarrassing, but there wasn’t anything playful in his voice.

He frowned. “What's up, Wil?”

Then Wilbur was reaching out, his hand hovering over Tommy’s shoulder. “Can I—?”

“Yeah, sure,” Tommy said, quickly ducking his head and pulling his friend into a hug. His ratty wool coat was rough against his cheek. It smelled bad, too. Sweaty and kind of like smoke (ugh).

“I’m sorry,” Wilbur sighed.

“Wha—Wil, it—it’s okay, it’s just a boat ride,” Tommy replied, brows furrowing.

“I…” Wilbur paused and sniffed quietly. “Can I be real with you?”

“Yeah, ‘course.”

Wilbur was silent for a moment, and when he spoke, his voice came out a little less watery. “That… you said that, and I… it’s like a switch just flicked in my brain. Y’know, I fuckin’ wish we could’ve. You deserved to get to take the ferry and have something fun for once. And yet, I…”

Tommy heard the note of frustration building in his voice, and his body went cold. He wanted to break free from the hug, but before he do anything about it, Wil pulled away first. Worst part was, it didn’t make him feel any less cold.

“Seriously, it’s not a big deal,” Tommy mumbled, but as soon as he got done saying it, he realized that wasn’t even the point.

Wilbur chuckled weakly. “Believe me, I know you don’t like to be coddled, Tommy. I like to think that, y’know, you don’t feel like I’m ever looking down on you. But you know you’re still… I think of you as—”

“I know, Wil.” Tommy said, then glanced over with a wry smile. “You don’t have to say it. I know you’ll cry.”

He knew Wilbur was blaming himself over their encounter with the border lady, how it ruined everything they’d been working towards. Really, it was Tommy’s fault for freaking out—but, well, that wasn’t all that unreasonable of him, was it? It was that they hadn’t been good enough. Not needy enough. Wilbur could have—why didn’t he plan this out more? Why—?

No, that wasn’t fair. That lady was just an asshole.

“It wasn’t your fault. Dickhead,” Tommy said, an edge of finality in his voice.

Wilbur sighed, in that annoying way when it was clear he was doubting Tommy Trusty’s words of wisdom.

“Alright, brat,” he finally said. After a moment of what looked like calculating hesitation, he reached out and mussed up Tommy’s hair.

“Fuck you!” Tommy cried, shoving Wilbur away (and then immediately felt bad for yelling when people were trying to get some shut-eye).

They settled down the way they always did: doing their best to share a blanket between them, with their pack of supplies kind of smooshed between their heads like the world’s most ineffectual privacy partition.

Tommy was often the first one to fall asleep, but not tonight. It was only the turn of spring, so there were still some vestiges of the winter chill clinging to the darkness like a spider to her web. Tommy tried to salvage some warmth by tugging over a little more than his allotted 50% of the blanket, but even then he could still feel himself shivering.

Every time he looked back out into the dilapidated streets of Full Moon Bay (Shit name, by the way, it was clearly a waxing crescent tonight), his heart jumped a little. Like they were being watched or something. Flashes of light disappeared and reappeared in the distance like fireflies. Every time he caught one, Tommy shut his eyes tight and prayed they would disappear for good when he opened them.

He tossed and turned—well, as much as one could when sleeping next to somebody and still not be a dick. He considered waking Wilbur up for about two seconds before deciding that was baby behavior and it’d probably be the most embarrassing thing to ever happen to him.

He didn’t know how long he laid there, but at some point he realized he could still hear a little conversation from the other refugees.

“I just… don’t know where we’re supposed to go from here, dad.”

A pause, then a second voice answered quietly.

“Listen, dear, if you really think we’ll be safe in Ba Sing Se, we could try the other way.”

“Do you mean the Serpent’s Pass?”

Tommy’s toes curled at the mention of that name. The place Wilbur wanted to take them. Because he was a fucking wrong’un and an idiot.

“I don’t know if that’s a good idea, guys,” someone new whispered. Tommy realized it was that guard lady, which meant the other two were probably the woman and her elderly father he’d seen earlier. “It’s one of the most dangerous passages in the world. On foot, at least.”

“But, haven’t you heard, young lady? They say there’s a half-spirit who guides people along the pass.”

“A half-spirit? What, like the Avatar?” The woman scoffed.

“Who’s to say?”

Tommy’s eyebrows furrowed at that. Wilbur had been talking about an old friend who might help them on their own journey, but Wilbur definitely wasn’t cool enough to know any half-spirits, let alone the Avatar.

“Dad…”

Another pause. “Oh, you’re too serious sometimes.”

“I’m really not trying to lower your mood,” the woman sighed, some bitterness in her voice. “I just don’t think it’s worth putting all our hope into any spiritual business.”

“Oh alright, I understand…”

“Actually,” the guard lady cut in, “I’m kind of curious. Seems like you know your spirits, sir.”

The old man laughed. “Oh, I wouldn’t say that. I’ve heard many different rumors. That he was once an assistant in the Spirit Library, or that he’s from another world entirely…”

The guard hummed. “You’re talking about The Blade, aren’t you?”

In the dark, Tommy’s eyes widened. It’s not like he really thought they were the same person-spirit-thing, but if this somehow turned out to be Wil’s guy, Tommy was gonna fucking strangle him. As if accentuating this thought, Wilbur did a stupid little snort in his sleep.

“Oh, yes, that was his name.”

The daughter chuckled a little. “Sounds friendly.”

“I don’t know a lot about him either, but I think he was around when Avatar Kyoshi was alive,” the guard remarked. “But I’ve also heard he doesn’t show up for just anybody, so… I’m sorry, but I wouldn’t bank on it, either.”

“Don’t apologize, dear,” the old man said. “Jia Li and I will be alright, one way or another.”

The rest, Tommy supposed, was too private for words, because after another moment of listening, he didn’t hear anything else after that.

Well, it sounded like he and Wilbur didn’t need to worry about any “The Blade”s trying to come and murder them or anything like that. Not like Big Man Tommy Innit was gonna be scared off by a spirit who probably didn’t even want to help out perfectly nice people like Jia Li and her father. He scrunched his eyes shut once again, trying to calm down.

But his thoughts wouldn’t stop racing. The Serpent’s Pass kept jumping to the forefront of his mind—what it was like, whether Wilbur really seriously wanted to go, all the potential ways they might die there without anyone finding their bodies. That kind of thing.

And it was so. Fucking. Cold.

As slowly as he could, Tommy tilted his head up to see if Wilbur was asleep yet. In the faint light, he could tell his brother’s face was slack, peaceful. But the lines of stress and deep bags under his eyes were still there. They could almost make Tommy forget that the man before him was only twenty years old.

But he was asleep.

Quietly, Tommy took a deep breath. It was shaky at first, so he curled tighter around the feeling in his gut, willing his fears to melt away. Buzzing energy gathered inside him.

He breathed out.

It was as if he was holding a pile of kindling. It started with with a speck of red, barely even hot against his palm.

A little fire grew, swaddled in Tommy’s hands. It was warm. Not as big and burning as he would’ve liked, but still warm. He held it close to his chest so none of the light would flutter out from behind him.

He breathed deeply, in and out, until he, too, finally managed to fade into the restless night.

---

Wilbur did, in fact, really seriously want to go.

“So. What’s this—this old friend, what’s he like?” Tommy asked, trying to suss out Wilbur’s real feelings towards their new… route. If you could even call it a route. To Tommy, it obviously seemed more like a suicide wish. He didn’t want to wonder if that’s why Wilbur liked it so much (he really, really didn’t want to think about that).

Wilbur sighed a little and shifted his pack. “I always knew him as Techno.”

Tommy raised his eyebrows. “Real shit name, innit? How do you even know he’ll help us? Or even fucking be there?”

“I mean…” he trailed off.

“Wilbur, you—are you—!” Tommy groaned. “You have got to be fucking kidding me, man!”

“Oi, he is gonna be there, alright? He will. He just—he’s always where he needs to be. That’s what he does.”

“Oh, so what, the little birdies whispered it in your dumb oversized fuckin’ ear. You want to go on—” he recalled what the people from last night had said—“one of the most dangerous passages in the fucking world, because that’s the vibe?”

“My ears aren’t oversized,” Wil protested.

He looked vaguely unhappy with the direction of the conversation, so Tommy broke eye contact and began to focus on the path ahead of them: a long stretch of rocky earth, speckled with sleepy anthills and crusted with slabs of limestone emerging from the dirt. The Serpent’s Pass couldn’t have been more than two day’s determined travel from Full Moon Bay, but he still wasn’t excited for the short journey.

Especially since they’d be meeting with this “Techno” at some point. Allegedly.

Tommy just wanted to get to Ba Sing Se, where the war couldn’t touch them, where—where that tyrant freak couldn’t touch him, where he could go on pretending there wasn’t any Fire Nation in his veins, and where Wilbur could do… well, whatever he wanted to.

Tommy also wanted to not fucking die. And, if he was being honest, he wasn’t exactly keen on some random stranger barging in on his and Wilbur’s dynamic, either. Didn’t he know that an extra party member always ruins the vibe? Obviously not, the bastard.

So. If Wilbur didn’t like Tommy being a bitch about the whole thing, then he would just have to fucking deal.

“Look, Tommy, I know you don’t like this,” Wilbur started, a little undiplomatically. “But you need to—I need you to give him a chance. He’s done this before. You can trust him. I’m afraid we don’t have many other options.”

Tommy pointedly kept his gaze to the ground, dodging another anthill as they trudged along.

“Fine. What’s he like?” Tommy asked again.

Wilbur told him. Apparently, Techno had been close to Wilbur’s father, but eventually grew to care for him as well. Tommy thought it was stupid that Wilbur refused to call him dad anymore, but he also kind of got it.

“So they were friends?” he asked.

Wilbur’s nose scrunched up a little and his glasses bobbed stupidly with the motion. “I guess. I—I mean, it was perhaps more than just being friends, I would say.”

Tommy snorted. “So they were—they were in love? They made out and stood on furnaces ‘n’ all that shit?”

Wil briefly made a face like he was going to throw up, but less in a grossed-out way and more in a I-hate-my-life-way. “No, I… don’t think so.”

According to Wilbur, the guy was quite easygoing, preferred things to go his way, awfully stubborn, and criminally funny. Tommy scowled at the description.

“What? What’s that face for?”

“Nothing. I trust him,” Tommy lied.

“Tommy…”

Tommy had some trouble reading the tone of that one. It was a little drawn out, but exasperated didn’t seem quite right. He somewhat prided himself on being able to read Wilbur when others couldn’t, but sometimes he was too much of a closed book even for Tommy’s magnificent, gargantuan mind.

Suddenly, Wilbur gasped.

“Awwe, Tommy…”

Oh, he knew that one well enough.

Wilbur grinned. “Are you fucking jealous?”

Immediately, a flame of embarrassment licked at Tommy’s cheeks and he halfheartedly shoved Wilbur away. “I’m not — I’m not jealous, dickhead.”

“You’re jealous! You’re fucking jealous!”

“No, no, I’m not! I’m not! I’d never be—I’d never be jealous of—of—I’m not jealous!”

“It’s okay, Tommy, it’s okay, don’t be embarrassed!”

“Mmm! Mmm! Mmmm… Can’t hear you, can’t—shut up! Humina humina humina humina…”

“Look, you’ll like him, it’ll be fine! Don’t worry, Tommy, I’ll still pay the most attention to you,” Wilbur crooned.

“Dickhead prick bastard, you’re unpleasant to be around, you—you’re the worst person to be born, Wilbur, ever. Fuck you.”

The two walked on until night returned, taking little breaks to rest. They hadn’t fully restocked their waterskin—for the billionth time, Wilbur passionately expressed how much he wished he was a waterbender so he could pull water out of thin air for the both of them. Tommy figured if it was that easy then every waterbender would fucking be doing it. But go off, he supposed.

This part of the Earth Kingdom was a different type of cold than they were used to, a thick humidity permeating the air. It was the worst kind of weather ever. Now that they were back on the road, they could at least set up a real camp. The sun’s last dredges were about ready to fade behind the horizon. Instead of forcing him to help like usual, Wilbur got busy pitching the tent, letting Tommy watch the sunset bleed out.

“Wil,” Tommy said.

Silence.

“Wilbur.”

Wilbur’s finally glanced at Tommy.

“Wil, I heard some of the other people talking last night.”

His mouth popped in an “oh” shape. “What did they say?”

“They said—well, there was that really pretty guard lady and they were talking and all, and they were talking about—they said that on The Serpent’s Pass, there was some kind of spirit.”

“A spirit?” Wilbur perked up.

“Or like, a half-spirit, I don’t know,” Tommy amended, “like the Avatar ‘n’ shit.”

Wilbur frowned. “The Avatar isn’t a half-spirit.”

“Oh my—whatever, you fucking nerd.”

That made Wilbur laugh, which made Tommy feel about 2% better than he did before.

“So, who’s this half-spirit?”

“Well,” Tommy started, trying to remember. “They said it, like, helps people across the pass, but I guess only certain people, like some kind of fuckin’ capitalist or something. It’s called The Blade or something stupid like that.”

“Oh,” Wil said, “That’s Techno.”

“What the fuck?!”

Tommy gaped as Wilbur started laughing again.

“Your friend is a fuckin’ spirit?!”

“No, no,” Wilbur attempted through his stupid fucking giggle fit. “He’s just a guy. Like, he’s just a dude. That must be some kind of rumor.”

“Oh my god.” Tommy put his face in his hands.

“I bet he’ll be pleased to hear he’s got a reputation, though.”

“Oh yeah, he sounds like a right fuckin’ egotist—I mean, like, a fuckin’ bastard.”

Wilbur made a little "pffft" sound like he kind of agreed, but didn’t say anything more, so Tommy turned back to the sunset and hummed to himself for a bit.

“Wil,” Tommy asked approximately two minutes later. “There’s nobody around here, right?”

A short silence followed before he heard Wilbur call back, “No.”

“Let me set up a fire?”

Tommy’s heart stood still as he waited for the reply with bated breath. Wilbur must have been expecting the question, though, because he just smiled. “Sure, king.”

“WOO! Fuck yeah!” Tommy cheered, bouncing up immediately. No sleeping cold tonight!

He was able to gather some firewood fairly easily. Some of the twigs and branches Tommy found didn’t feel quite as dry as he would’ve preferred, but he’d been getting better with his control, so… At the very least, he was just quick enough that by the time he’d wandered back to the camp, some residual heat from the sun was still lingering in the sky.

Wilbur was sitting outside the tent on their ratty blanket. He watched silently, seemingly absentmindedly, as Tommy began to make a small firepit.

“Now,” Tommy boasted, “the moment you’ve been dying to see! Gentlemen…”

He looked to Wilbur, then all around the desert, then back to Wilbur. “Wilbur.”

He snorted. “Child.”

“Fuck you,” Tommy dismissed, then continued on with his exciting performance. “Please pay attention now, keep your eyes peeled all the way open like an orange. The Great Big Tommy Danger Hands, sleightest of fingers, Breaker of Chains, will demonstrate his finest and most manliest trick, which all the women love and they drool over him and try to marry him constantly… as he now delicately starts… a fire!”

He plopped down into a low squat, like he’d seen in the picture books Wilbur used to show him before they got banned from the Yu Dao library (Admittedly, that was Tommy’s fault). It was technically an earthbending form, but Tommy figured it didn’t matter that much. It wasn’t like he had any other old masters to teach him.

He could do this.

Breathe in.

Tommy felt the air hum and pulse with warmth. Something buzzed alive inside his stomach.

Breathe out.

Energy flowed through his breath and a wave of heat curled from the firewood.

Breathe in.

A few bright sparks whistled around the sticks, and Tommy had to quickly calm the rush of excitement he felt so he wouldn’t lose control. He was going to do this like a real master.

Breathe out.

A little flame sprouted and affirmed itself like mushrooms rooting into a tree stump, stretching its tendrils into the clouds above.

Breathe in.

He opened his eyes, and the light caught on the edge of the scar on his hand.

(“I thought we were friends, Tommy,” the bastard said.

Tommy said… Tommy said—

Everything was really hot suddenly. He looked down, and he saw red, and he wasn’t scared. He wasn’t…)

Stop, stop, stop! Tommy gasped as his little fire crackled burst into a roaring blaze.

“YOO!” Wilbur cheered from the other side of the firepit.

He blinked, suddenly aware of the tension in his knees as he held his squat. He was…

Breathe out.

The fire shrank down from its outburst, fluttering pleasantly in the air like a lovely dancer. The tinder and logs shifted a little as smoldering chunks fell to the bottom. Right. He was…

Right.

He watched Wilbur lean in, excited. Flecks of light danced in the reflection of his shitty stolen glasses like confetti. Tommy could feel the heat pulse through his arms, both from the fire and from his own energy, but it was a pleasant sunbathing warmth instead of the cold, mango-sticky feeling they’d been trudging through all day.

Breathe in. What was he so freaked out about, anyway?

With the final bit of air in his lungs, Tommy slowly pushed out the rest of his energy into the fire.

Breathe out.

A golden glow lit up Wilbur’s face like a firefly hovering in the night. It caught against every early wrinkle and stray hair on his cheeks and cast long, somber shadows on his face. His smile brightened as he watched the flame bloom.

Tommy bit his lip, feeling ashamed for some stupid fucking reason.

“Dude!” Wilbur cried. “That was fucking amazing!”

Tommy glanced down at the fire, popping gently, a product of his own soul and practice and care. He sank into the dirt, watching it for a second and muttering a string of astounded curses under his breath.

A tiny laugh radiated from Tommy’s chest. It was beautiful, this thing that he made all on his own, and a lightness rose in his throat like a bubble of mucus, but in a good way. It was alive.

“Yeah—yeah—I fuckin’—that was so fucking cool!”

They both cheered, Wilbur bestowing Tommy with a searing high-five, a communication of only the utmost respect. Even though it was nearly too dark to see past their little circle of light, everything somehow felt brighter than it had in days.

All the times Wilbur had to shove a blanket over Tommy’s emotionally reactive firebending in public felt so worth it just for this moment. Tonight, they would fall asleep with warmth and light in front of them, backs unguarded in the open field. The boiling weight in Tommy’s lungs would be forgotten.

---

The Blade was late to their rendezvous. You know, the one that only existed in Wilbur’s head.

Wilbur seemed to know Techno lived somewhere around this little port down near the start of the Pass, but nothing more than that. He’d seemed confident that they would just… run into him, or something like that. Apparently Wilbur has sent the guy letters before, but never got a message back, which meant either Wilbur was fucking wrong, or Techno was fucking rude.

Tommy, the self proclaimed “polite one” of the two brothers, bit back about six “I told you so”s throughout the morning. It wasn’t much, but it was honest work.

At first, Wilbur didn’t seem too stressed about it, explaining that Techno was just trying to maintain a cool and fashionable facade, but after about an hour of walking around doing nothing, he’d started to pick up on Tommy’s antsiness.

“Technolate,” Wilbur said.

“Technolate,” Tommy agreed, not feeling the least bit smug about it, as was the kind and brotherly thing to do.

After another hour of wandering and playing various word games—that devolved not once, not twice, but three times into promises of future violence—the two decided to wander off in search of cheap food. Considering this was a fishing port, it didn’t take them long to find somewhere near a dock on the shore.

A slightly older looking woman with a mane of thick, curly hair was unloading a small fishing ship. Tommy made eye contact with Wilbur for a second before bounding over the sloped ground towards the boat.

“Hello? Hello?” Tommy asked, fingering their remaining coins in his pocket.

“Oh! Uh, hello, friend.” The woman startled a little, nearly dropping a crate she’d been heaving onto the dock. Tommy heard Wilbur walk up behind him at a leisurely pace, and the woman smiled. “…Friends.”

Tommy opened his pitch with a dazzling smile. “Well, miss—?”

“Puffy,” the woman supplied.

“Miss Puffy—you are incredibly beautiful, by the way—”

“Tommy,” Wilbur groaned. He went on, probably needlessly apologizing to Puffy like he always did when Tommy started talking to strangers, but Tommy decided not to comprehend it.

“My brother—my big brother Wilbur and I, we—we’re very poor and sad. We—we’re impoverished, we scramble around on the floors and we—and we eat up all we can like little mice. We came down to the lovely town of—?”

Puffy laughed. “Well, it’s really more of a club than it is a town, but—”

Wilbur straightened up, trying to dominate Tommy in the conversation, and cried, “well, we love your fishing club!”

“Yes!” Tommy agreed, doing everything in his power to resist the urge to jab his thumb into Wilbur’s belly button. Instead, he gestured out into the barren land of the cliffside. “It’s like—it’s like a fancy little forest! With little fish just—little fish swimming around and being… delicious.”

“Goods! Fish! Your wares are available for purchasing?” Wilbur added, sounding more embarrassed with himself with each new syllable.

This seemed to break Puffy, as she immediately sputtered into a round of buoyant laughter and pressed her face into her hands. “I’m—I’m so sorry you two, but I—”

“Look, look, Wil—now’s the—now’s our chance. Let’s steal her wares. She won’t see a thing,” Tommy conspired unsubtly.

“What?” Puffy asked. It sounded more like a wha-ha-haaat? because she was laughing still.

“Tommy!” Wilbur groaned. “You are the worst salesman I’ve ever seen, and every time you open your mouth your ineptitude fucking spreads to me like a disease.”

Tommy sighed. “But I’m not selling anything, Wil, except—except for my winning smile and my vivacious abs-sculature. I’m a Crime Boy, I’m a Dirty Crime Boy!”

“I regret passing that title to you every fucking day.”

Puffy, with a lingering grin on her face, cleared her throat. Tommy and Wilbur’s mouths snapped shut. She was not laughing anymore and the jig was up because Wilbur was afraid to take action in the moment of truth.

“Look, I’m really sorry you two, but I’ve honestly been struggling to get by with the whole, uh, fishing thing myself. Serpent and all,” Puffy admitted. “I’m actually trying to set up shop somewhere else right now, and I’ve already sold all the good fish.”

“Right. The Serpent.” Tommy shot a glare towards Wilbur.

Wilbur ignored him. “We’re okay with the bad fish, too,” he negotiated, overeager.

Puffy smiled apologetically. “I hate to break it to you, but this lil’ shack is fresh out of fish. But, I mean, if you two need money, I wouldn’t mind having some helpers on the boat. In fact, uh, I picked up someone like you a few hours ago for the same reason.”

“Oh, sorry, we’re looking for someone today”, Wilbur replied, raising his arms purposelessly then letting them awkwardly fall back down. “We appreciate the offer, though.”

“Wil,” Tommy protested, “You don’t even fucking know where he is.”

“I know he sticks around these parts,” Wilbur spat back, but he sounded unsure.

Suddenly, a heavy clank rang from the back of the fishing boat. Puffy didn’t seem too alarmed.

“Hey Captain, remind me exactly how much of this ya need me to carry out?” A voice called from inside the cabin.

From the corner of his vision, Tommy caught Wilbur’s eyes widening. “What? What?” He asked, ramming his elbow into Wilbur’s side.

“Uh, just one or two boxes,” Puffy replied, then turned back to the two. “That’s the guy who’s been helping me today.”

On cue, a hulking figure stepped out of the cabin, carrying a large crate with a line of slime dribbling from one of the bottom corners. Peering over the top, Tommy saw what he was pretty sure was maggots squirming around inside. Cute.

The man was wrapped in a thick, woolly cloak that looked like it could have cost more than twice Tommy’s lifetime earnings, but it was so worse for wear that he wasn’t entirely sure how the man could even touch the thing without it dissolving into a pile of thread. Like Puffy, he had a mane of brown hair, but his was streaked with pink, like how middle-aged ladies sometimes have a salt-and-pepper greying thing going on.

Most interestingly, he wore what looked like a thoroughly cleaned moo-sow skull over his face, obscuring most of his features and making him look both batshit crazy and indescribably awesome.

“Holy shit!” Wilbur said, his mouth opening and closing like a fish.

“Uh…” The man set his box down—yep, definitely maggots— onto solid ground. “Wilbur?”

Wilbur’s shock quickly transformed into a bright grin. “Techno, my man, it’s good to see you again!”

Oh, Tommy thought. Great. Wilbur's mysterious friend actually did appear.

“Ha, you still have those old glasses! Nerd,” Techno said, stepping over and immediately wrapping Wilbur in what looked like a warm, crushing hug. Tommy grimaced and looked away.

It was kind of funny how Wilbur clung back to him though, like a weird little stick. “We were looking for you, actually.”

“Oh, right, ‘cuz—”

“Did you get any of my letters?” Wilbur asked.

“I got, like… three.”

He frowned. “I've sent more than that. Which ones got through?”

Techno freed Wil from the massive hug, patting him hard on the back and causing him to let out a sharp oof. “Well, there was the one about that girl who dumped you, or you dumped her, I didn’t really get it, honestly.”

Wilbur’s frown deepened. “Other than that one.”

“Well, I got the one where you adopted, like, a raccoon child? That was cool.”

Tommy decided enough was enough.

“AHEM.”

“Oh, Techno—” Wilbur, presumably, began to introduce him, thank god.

“Oh, riiight,” Techno cut him off, “and I got the one from a month ago saying you might want some help up The Serpent’s Pass. I don’t have anythin’ to do right now, really, so that’s fine.”

What?

Tommy clenched the edge of his shirt. “Excuse me. Excuse me.”

“Oh,” Techno said. “Hullo.”

“Wilbur, you—” Tommy said, feeling kind of ill in a flippy way, like when you spin around in circles for too long. “You’d already told him to come?”

Wilbur sighed. “Tommy, listen, I was just letting him know it was a possibility.”

Techno tiled his head curiously, but that ridiculous skull mask made the gesture look predatory instead. “Oh yeah, Tommy, that’s right. The raccoon child.”

Tommy tried to stab him with his eyeballs. “And you’re Techno. The Blade.”

“Yep,” he said, unbothered.

Wilbur straightened up, obviously trying to take control of the conversation from there. “Now, there’s no need for hostility, you two.”

“Yeah, I’m gonna be honest, I’m feelin’ kinda attacked right now, don’t know why though. Definitely some sort of wave of antagonism coming from… about this direction,” Techno said, gesturing towards Tommy.

Tommy bristled. Before he could say anything, though, Wilbur pushed forward. “I’m sorry it’s sudden, Techno, but we’re just trying to get to The Impenetrable City. It’s important.”

“Nah, it’s fine. I was kinda prepared for you to be here, like I said. And I owe ya one, anyway.”

Wil shot him a little smile. “Planning on putting us through Serpent’s Pass boot camp or something like that?”

“Eh. Sounds like a lotta work.” Techno said. “I mean, you guys’ll be fine if you just listen to what I tell you out there. Not to brag or anything, but like, I kinda know my way around.”

“I know it might not be a big deal to you, but this really means a lot to us,” stupid Wilbur said, speaking for Tommy like he knew what he was thinking. “I failed to get us a ferry in, so now I’m afraid we have to take the next-best option.”

Tommy was… he was pissed. Actually pissed. Not fake-pissed or funny-pissed. Miffed, one could say. Fuming, even.

First off, he told the dipshit it wasn’t his fault, but there Wilbur went putting it all on himself like it was nothing again, like he was just that used to covering for Tommy’s fuck-ups. It was humiliating. It was wrong. And then he decides to pull some stupid stunt and pretend that’s what he meant from the very fucking beginning? And he wanted Tommy to just go along with it, his stupid Tommy, his Right-Hand Tommy. His—whatever.

“Well, I think it’s a fuckin’ horrible idea, if either of you give a shit,” he declared. Just because he was still gonna stick with Wilbur didn’t mean he couldn’t be a bit of a dick about it. Had to keep his brand image and all.

“Tommy,” Wilbur said, frustrated.

At that, Puffy stepped forward with an air of authority. “Okay, I guess today’s been a weird day for everyone, and I don’t exactly know what’s going on, but I’d like to remind everyone that this is my dock. So I think we can all be chill, right?”

Tommy leaned back against the shack and crossed his arms. “‘M not trying to start shit,” he muttered. Honestly.

“I’m very sorry about all this, ma’am,” Wilbur said.

Puffy waved him off. “Hey, no need for the formality. I appreciate it, it’s just that Techno’s been helping out on the boat all morning. And when I’ve got someone working with me, I don’t let anyone bother them, you get me?”

“Yeah,” Techno said. His voice was lighthearted, but the animalistic appearance to his mask made it feel shallow. “I didn’t expect to get all caught up with this, but it turns out Captain Puffy here is kinda based. Makin’ a real connection out here.”

“Oh, well, that’s good,” Wilbur said.

“Yeah, turns out we have a lot in common,” Puffy smiled, “like having surprisingly compatible political beliefs.”

“And havin’ similar hair problems,” Techno supplied.

“And we both think eggs are only okay.”

“We’re basically besties now, is what I’m sayin’.”

Tommy huffed to himself, thinking that was kind of funny but not wanting to show it.

Techno’s gaze fell on him.

“Uh, so I’m kinda feelin’ like we got off on the wrong foot. Maybe a bit of a misunderstandin’ between you two, I dunno.”

“Well—I think this has been just lovely, Techno-Blade,” Tommy said, making sure to emphasize how stupid the man’s name sounded.

“Uh, that’s not—” Techno started, then interrupted himself with a huff. “So… I’ve heard a bit about you.”

“I most certainly—well, I certainly do not fuckin’ want to know what you’ve heard,” he lied.

“Nothing good, don’t worry,” Wilbur rolled his eyes.

Techno looked somewhat uncomfortable as he wiped his hands against the front of his pants, leaving a subtle stain of sweat in their wake. He reached up to twist a strand of hair between his fingers, but he’d already dropped his hands again by the time Tommy had the brilliant idea of making fun of him for it.

“Okay, cool, ‘cause this is like, really awkward,” Techno said, and despite looking mildly weirded out by the whole thing, he somehow seemed above it all at the same time.

Something bubbled inside Tommy’s gut, and he didn’t feel like examining it. This Techno guy was obviously fucking with him, and Wil wasn’t even saying anything!

“I do not—okay—I do not fuckin’—Techno-Blade, I’d like to have—I would like to have a talk with you. A private audience. With you.”

Techno simply stared for a second, then shrugged before shambling off to a nearby tree. He glanced expectantly at Tommy to follow.

“Tommy…” Wilbur said.

“I’m so sorry, Ms. Puffy. Mr—Mr. Soot. I’ll be—I’ll be right back,” Tommy said, straightening his back in mock politeness. Wilbur looked—well, not upset. Tommy couldn’t tell. He hated it when he couldn’t tell.

Tommy stomped towards Techno.

“Alright, listen here, The Blade. Real shit name, by the way.”

“Hey, man,” Techno protested. “I’m literally just vibin’ here, I—”

“You—you think—you think…” Tommy trailed off.

He couldn’t identify the feeling burning inside him. It wasn’t quite anger, since he really was just trying to annoy Wilbur’s friend. Make a good impression. Nothing personal, right? And Techno was obviously trying to troll him back. Nothing personal. Tommy didn’t know what he was planning on saying.

“��Wilbur likes me more??” was what Tommy decided on.

Techno did something of a half-laugh. “I’m not tryin’ to, like, imply anything here, but you honestly don’t seem sure about that.”

“Fuck off!” Tommy hissed. “That’s not what I fucking meant. You’re like a little snap pea to me. You’re a little ant. And there’s like, a fuckin’ million of those per anthill, so you’re not even, like, a special ant.”

Techno leaned back against the tree, contemplating that mind-shattering insult—the whole thing bent a little under his weight, and it pissed Tommy off so bad because he couldn’t even tell if it was an intimidation tactic or the guy wasn’t even aware of how fucking massive he was.

“Alright, we got a firecracker here,” Techno said slowly.

“Don’t condescend to me, bitch—!” he started, but Techno cut him off and Tommy snapped his mouth shut without meaning to.

“I’m gonna talk to you the way you want to be talked to,” he rumbled easily. “So if you’re gonna act like a brat, then that’s how I’m gonna treat you. Uh, no offense.”

Sore luck for you, then, Tommy thought bitterly. Because I’m always a fuckin’ brat.

“So here’s the deal. I don’t—” Techno’s mountainous shoulders raised in what Tommy guessed was some facsimile of a shrug— “I don’t really get why you’re beefing with me so hard, it’s honestly kind of sad? Again, not to imply anything…”

“Oh my god, you are actually a fucking asshole,” Tommy blurted.

“Oh, but I’m an asshole for a really good reason, Tommy.”

Something cold ran swiftly through Tommy’s veins, and for the second time in just a few minutes, he was embarrassingly shut up without Techno even having to raise his voice.

“You’re tryin’ to go down the Serpent’s Pass?”

He glanced away. “I don’t fuckin’—I dunno, I don’t fucking want to.”

“Sure,” Techno agreed, “But are you gonna?”

Fighting the urge to make myself smaller, Tommy nodded ever so slightly. “Yeah. What of it?”

“The Serpent’s Pass is a dangerous place. People die here, kid. Sometimes people die even when I’m supposed to be there, protectin’ them and guidin’ them along the way. And ya know why that is?”

Tommy clenched his teeth, raising his head to look at The Blade through the eye socket of his moo-sow skull. “Why?”

“Because they thought they knew better. They didn’t listen to me when they needed to.”

“…Prolly ‘cause you’re a fuckin’ asshole,” Tommy said, raising an eyebrow.

To be honest, Tommy didn’t know what he was expecting when he said that. He thinks he maybe wasn’t expecting anything, like a dumbass little kid who doesn't know how to think ahead. But he was still surprised when Techno planted a goodnatured hand on his shoulder.

“Pffft. Nah,” Techno said flippantly. That light tone carried into his next words, foreboding as they were: “‘S ‘cause they just saw me as a tool. Y’know, like a carriage or somethin’, just a way for them to get from one place to another. They never really trusted me. Tommy, you know the story of Orpheus?”

“Fuck is an Orpheus?” Tommy scoffed.

“Dude…” Techno muttered to himself, scratching his neck. “I keep forgettin’ people in this world don’t have Greek mythology.”

“What? What’s that mean?” Tommy asked. He remembered what that lady and her dad were saying about The Blade—he was some kind of half-spirit, or maybe not even from this plane of existence. But there was no way that could be true, because he was friends with Wilbur. Cringe…

Techno folded his arms. “Well, the story goes somethin’ like this. So there was this guy named Orpheus who lived a long time ago. He had a wife, Eurydice, she went off to dance with nymphs one day, but while she was doin’ that, she got bitten by a snake and died. And now, Orpheus was a bard, so all he could do to cope with how much he missed her was to sing, and sing, and sing for days straight.

“And he was so upset that he went all the way to the god of the underworld to ask for her back. His song of grief was so moving, so rich with the deepest feelings of love and loss, that even the god of the underworld decided to humor his foolish request. He said that he could lead Eurydice all the way back home, and she’d get to stay alive—as long as he could manage one little thing. Orpheus couldn’t turn around to look at her until they made it out of the underworld. Not even once.”

“But then he wouldn’t be able to tell if she was following,” Tommy argued. “That’s a shitty thing to make him do.”

“That’s true. But that’s how it goes when you’re dealing with the gods,” Techno tilted his head back to rest against the tree. “So Orpheus leads his wife all the way out of the underworld. They climb up together for hours and hours, passing by all sorts of dangerous things, but Orpheus managed to hold on to his faith that his true love was still following. But just when they got to the exit, Orpheus realized he couldn’t hear her footsteps anymore. And so—”

“Shut up, man!” Tommy interrupts, his heart racing. “I—this is fuckin’ stupid, I get it, alright? You’re a real bastard, y’know that, Techno-Blade? That’s—shit name, by the way.”

Infuriatingly, Techno chuckled. “There ya go. Guess you can figure out what happened yourself, huh. You’re obviously a smart kid, Tommy—”

“Stop fuckin’ patronizing me, bitch!”

“—So,” Techno emphasized. “I think ya know what I’m tryin’ to say. Those guys who died out there on the Serpent’s Pass died because they didn’t trust me, they trusted their instincts. Or maybe they just took one millisecond too long mulling it over… guess it ends the same both ways. Anyway, I’ve been doin’ this for a while, so you’re gonna have to listen to what I tell you when we get out there, Tommy. You’re gonna need to trust me over yourself, and over Wilbur. ‘Cause I have the skills to get through this place and you don’t. That’s all I’m sayin’, alright?”

This guy was a real piece of shit, Tommy decided.

“Are you fuckin’...” He hissed under his breath. Down at the dock, Wilbur was talking with Puffy about who-knows-what, doing that thing where he just kept kind of walking between a few points as he talked, which he only does when he’s nervous. Tommy watched out of the corner of his eye for a moment, but twisted back to Techno just as Wil was about to look up.

“This is stupid. I can’t believe I’m about to go on a fucking field trip with you,” Tommy told him.

“I think it could be kinda fun,” he replied, right back to being weirdly laid back.

“I tell you what, big man. Here’s the thing, I don’t—I don’t know why you think I’m gonna trust you when I don’t even fuckin’ know you. I look at you, and I—do you know what I see? I see some fucking weirdo who thinks he can never be in the wrong. If you ask me, kinda seems like—sounds to me like maybe you’re more like that Orpheus fellow, and those guys only died because you weren’t paying attention, and listen, I mean this in the nicest way possible, but that does not inspire confidence, man.”

At that, Techno just stilled, but Tommy just kept going. “But I trust Wilbur, I fuckin’—I fuckin’ guess, and he trusts you for some reason, so—listen, that means you get a little baby shred of my trust, but not a lot. It’s gonna, like—it’s like secondhand trust. And secondhand trust isn’t good for you, it—like, it wiggles all up in there, Mr. The Fuckin’ The Blade, but it’s what you fuckin’ get, alright? So my suggestion is, you make it work.”

Silence. The moo-sow skull hanging from his face went very suddenly from vaguely creepy to… Actually Really Threatening.

“Fuckin’. Uh…” Tommy said awkwardly, not sure if he should attempt to retract what he’d just said, but Techno was still chewing on it so he just kept insulting him. “Dick bastard son-of-a-bitch. You fucking wrong’un. Shit.”

Why did he say any of that again? He kind of thought it would be funny, but maybe it… wasn’t.

“Maaan…” Techno sighed, and his whole stature kind of drooped like a deflating balloon. “You sure are Wilbur’s little brother.”

A few questions flickered through Tommy’s mind. The first ones to rise to the surface were what the hell does THAT mean? and why is Wilbur friends with him again? But in the end, the thought that won out was great, so he isn’t going to murder me?

“So you’re not going to murder me?”

“Wha—no,” Techno said. It was offputting. He spoke with a janky, dispassionate intonation, like he was reading lines from a script. “Did ya think I was going to—dang. I was kinda trying to stay light here, like, keep it PG ‘n’ all, ‘cause, y’know.”

“…Oh my god, you are fuckin’—you are being for real right now,” Tommy laughed. “Techno-Blade, you are fuckin’ nuts, man, you’re worse than Wilbur and he’s like—well, he’s not crazy, y’know, like he’s—but it’s—listen, look, it’s like—fuck you even mean I’m his little brother, anyway? What’s that supposed to mean?”

Techno raised a hand to his neck again. “Nothin’, you just… he made you out to be so nice and all, and then.”

Tommy made a face. “No he didn’t.”

“Heh. Nah, he didn’t, really…” With a grunt, Techno lifted his weight off the tree (the leaves rustled a little from the weight of the movement). “But what he did write makes ya seem like an angel now that I’ve actually met you. Anyways, uh.”

Tommy took the smallest step back as Techno stepped forward. Not because he was scared, honest, but the guy was just so big it just felt right to give him some space. Techno stretched a hand towards him and his heart jumped a little. But it just stayed there, hanging between them, not doing anything.

“Hope we can work well together, Tommy.”

Right.

Tommy shook his hand like an idiot.

Fucking prick.

---

“Hope you didn’t scare him too bad, Tech,” Wilbur remarked as the two of them returned, Tommy trailing quietly behind Techno, whose cape he could now see in all of its disheveled glory. The fur lining that poked from the edge was so caked with grime it was hard to tell what color it was originally. Against the rail, Wilbur was tapping out a nervous rhythm with his fingers.

Tommy clenched a fist in his pocket. “I’m not fuckin’ scared.”

Tommy could feel Wilbur watch him for a second, but when he looked up, his brother was narrowing his eyes at Techno instead.

“What’d you say to him?”

Techno didn’t look like he noticed anything out of the ordinary, or maybe he just didn’t care. “Nothin’ special. Just levelin’ expectations, y’know how it is.”

“Cut it out, Wil, I’m not a baby,” Tommy said, walking past Techno to join Wilbur at the railing, turning his back towards the sea. It was strange, because for the one second he stood between the two of them, he’d almost felt like he was defending Techno.

“Child,” Wilbur retorted.

“Bastard.”

Near the entrance to the boat, Puffy cleared her throat. “Sorry, whatever you guys are talking about… this something I need to know about?”

Techno turned to her, and from a profile view, Tommy could spot the faintest curve of some kind of huge tooth peeking from behind his moo-sow skull. “Aww, nah, Captain, I’m just takin’ these guys up the Serpent’s Pass tomorrow. Didn’t mean for you to feel left outta the conversation.”

“Oh. So you guys are really serious about that, huh…?” She put her hands on her hips. “Not that you don’t look capable, but like, that seems… misguided. Y’know, the Serpent herself has been kinda aggressive lately, from what I’ve heard.”

Wilbur stood up, clearly trying to be polite (Tommy, of course, knew such a thing wasn’t possible). “Please don’t worry about us, Captain Puffy. It’s the best option we’ve got. Right, Tommy?”

It’s the ONLY option we’ve got, fucking apparently, Tommy thought sardonically. Not like his own ideas were any good.

“Yeah. We’re sure,” he agreed, standing up next to Wil.

“Well, alright,” Puffy said, shrugging a little. “I get it if you guys need to head off soon, but if you’re planning to stay a little longer, I’m still happy to throw some compensation your way if you still wanna help out on the ship.”

Tommy glanced towards Wilbur, who glanced towards Techno.

“Uh…” Techno seemed to wilt a little under the attention. As much as someone built like a rock could wilt, anyway, which wasn’t very much at all. “I was kinda planning to stick around a little longer and finish up with ya, but I mean, I can’t speak for these two nerds, so.”

“We’ll join you,” Wilbur decided, placing a hand on Tommy’s shoulder. “Thank you for the opportunity, Captain.”

“Hey, I like the extra company,” Puffy smiled before turning to lead them inside.

Wilbur’s hand was only lightly resting on top of Tommy’s shoulder, never wanting to touch too much without permission, but Tommy shook it off like it was burning him anyway.

This was gonna be a rough few days, he thought, but Tommy Trusty’s made it through worse before.

---

since this is already so self indulgent, i thought it’d be fun to leave a more in-depth AN here. i’d set up a lot of backstory details to be explored in chapter 2, but that’s ofc not happening, soo… yeah! no need to read all this. hope you liked the fic! :)

chapter 2 was going to be about our boys’ journey along the serpent’s pass. techno would reveal himself to be an earthbender and offer to teach tommy some bending basics. you see in this chapter that tommy has a complicated view on firebending due to his trauma, but he still obv thinks it’s cool and wants to learn. learning from techno lets him get in touch with his earth nation roots and maybe even start to get through his firebending block. they would eventually make it to ba sing se and part ways with techno, with tommy and him having become friends. we also would have seen more of wilbur’s motivations, how everything he does is for tommy and how he struggles with the aftermath of his own traumatic event in which he feels he “should have died”. but most of those feelings would remain unsaid, only gleaned from his actions and loyalty to tommy.

on to some fun commentary:

wilbur lies to the immigration officer quite a bit. he says they’ve been traveling for as long as they remember, but him and tommy only left yu dao 2-3 years ago. his “political experience” also comes exclusively from reading history books, and tommy’s skill with “agriculture and animal care” is derived from the fact that he loves animals and was a fire nation soldier’s gardener back in yu dao. but we’ll get to that more in a bit.

the reason tommy and wilbur want to get to ba sing se so badly is because tommy dodged the draft lol. yu dao is a fn colony, so there’s a lot of cultural mixing—tommy and wilbur both feel more earth nation and are treated as such (ie. extremely poorly), but tommy is also a firebender. he feels a lot of guilt for dragging wilbur along to escape his own problems, but he also kinda feels like wilbur’s dragging him along, too.

if you’re thinking ba sing se probably isn’t a good place for either of them, you’d be right. wil’s interest in politics, tommy’s trouble-magnetism, and their combined tendency to start drug empires would have the dai li on their tails eventually. it’s almost lucky, then, that i see this story taking place during the very beginning of avatar’s season 2, only a few weeks to a month before the drill and the following fn takeover. tommy and wilbur still have a while to go before they’ll be truly safe.

a few times, tommy and wilbur mention another “old friend” with whom things didn’t go down too well. this friend is eret, of course! up to interpretation whether she is connected to wilbur’s above-mentioned traumatic event.

i decided it wasn’t unreasonable that tobacco might exist in the avatar world, so wilbur’s canonical smoking habit gets to stay.

yes, the guard lady tommy thinks is cool is a kyoshi warrior! she knows “the blade” was around during kyoshi’s era because he shows up in some of the historical texts she’s read about kyoshi. that means the blade was around at least 200 years ago, probably longer.

wilbur is very insistent that techno is just “there” whenever he needs to be. it’s completely up to interpretation whether techno is a god, a spirit, a human, etc… it’s not even clear who the blade is or whether it’s really techno. so do with wilbur’s claims as you will.

so, tommy mentions he wants to get away from a certain “tyrant freak”, and later has a flashback to something burning and a man calling tommy his friend. this is a reference to the exile arc equivalent in this AU. dream was an accomplished fn soldier who’d been released from duty due to an injury that prevented him from bending for a long time. he lived in yu dao and hired tommy as his gardener. eventually he found out that tommy was a firebender and threatened to send him to the fn army if he didn’t cooperate. the rest, i think, can be extrapolated.

the bit where tommy is upset about wilbur having sent letters to techno about the serpent’s pass was going to be a whole thing in the second chapter, but i don’t really remember where i was going with it.

wrt wilbur: techno does not, in fact, owe him one. he thinks phil would want him to help, though, so that’s basically the same thing.

techno telling the story of orpheus is where i picked up on this draft after like, two years of not touching it. so if it feels a little janky from there, it’s because i don’t really remember how to write these characters, lol.

thanks for reading all this way!

#dsmp #mcyt #c!crimeboys #c!bedrock bros #dsmp fanfic #dsmp fic #frogs.fic

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lavender-annd-lilac · 2 years ago

Text

Author: I wouldn’t mind some feedback! 😃

Me: ok will u accept like 5 pop culture references from the same movie instead? 😭

I just learned how to do cuts so I’m going to put one here!!!

Jokes(?) below the cut??!

You go to the counter where a woman in a black turtleneck dress smiles flirtily at another customer

Oooooh it’s Emily Blunt from the Devil Wears Prada 😍😍😍

the associate, her name, Kelsey, etched on her silver name tag

Oh ok, I guess it’s Kelsey Grammer from Fraiser? 🫤

Colin doesn't care if you give him gold or a card, he's just happy with whatever.

You just want him to feel special. For one day. To feel like he didn't settle, like maybe, he got the prize.

Ok so I’m prob being an asshole but like… Who is the one that’s really trying to feel special here? 🤔

Is she getting the gift for him? Or for her? Not as in the watch is for her, but like, she’s getting it so she can feel good about getting him something fancy even tho he’s not really a material gworl….

Me: 👉👈AITA for feeling like this gift is more about proving something about herself than what he actually wants as a gift??

Everyone: YES 🖕😡😡😡

"I'm gonna have a look at the tie pins."

Tie and tie pins are outdated come at me bro.

Like, idk maybe a skinny tie with a shrunken suit for some hipster Wes Anderson chic but like otherwise… it’s just like… a long ass tongue hanging down from your neck picking up germs like some kind of flaccid cotton swab 🤢

"Sure, sorry about the wait. We're a bit short staffed at the moment," she smiles

Ok so definitely not Emily Blunt. That stone cold bitch (affectionate) would never apologize to anyone that isn’t the editor of Vogue

"with the blue."

I swear I make this reference every time the colour blue is mentioned but it’s obligatory at this point

“It’s not just blue, it’s not turquoise, it’s not lapis, it’s actually cerulean.”

"My husband," you smile, "he needs a new one.

Ok girl.. NO!!!! 🙅‍♀️🙅‍♀️🙅‍♀️ Him not having a watch is the prefect setup for him to ask u the time so u can say, “time to get a watch!!” And then cackle maniacally

"There's a Wal-Mart down the road," the man mocks as he leans on the glass, "think they might be more in your range."

This is one of those things where if someone accuses u of attending a satanic mass u can just be like, ok bitch well what were u doing at the satanic mass, huh???

Like, dude, how do u know there’s a Walmart down the road? Is that where u got ur shitty stick on moustache? 🥸

"Sure thing, how do we want to split it?"

Kelsey so nice 🥺 using the inclusive “we”

You peel open the top and start to count through the twenties, tens, fives, and hundreds, apologising for it as you do.

Me counting out change at the grocery store tbh

frazzled as a few bills slip and flutter down to the floor

"It's okay," Kelsey says, "I'll count."

Dang, ok rain man. Kelsey’s got skills 😲

youtube

"Sir," Kelsey says as she puts the cash in her till,

Sir, this is a Wendy’s

"Mind your business," he snaps

FUCK NO. Don’t u dare come for my girl Kelsey 😤😤😤

"No wonder you're splurging, gotta keep him around somehow."

Ok but like why are u splurging on fucking tie pins man?? Who are u trying to keep around huh

"Sir, please, I'll have to call security," Kelsey warns.

🛎️🛎️🛎️ DING DING DING!!! 🥊🥊📣📣📣 Aaaaand in this corner, we have consummate professional and best employee of the month 8 months running, KEEEELLLLSSEEEYYYY🥳🥳🥳 *crowd goes wild*

"You won't. I'm about to drop a month's worth of sales on you so you'll sit pretty and wait for me, dolly."

📣📣📣 Aaaand in the other corner *boo, hiss*, we have rich asshole… oh hang on… I’m getting a payment from Venmo?? 💰😳😳😳Holy shit ok well…

…in the other corner…. we have… this very stylish and handsome man.. I guess 🫥

"Tell daddy you need a good fucking to get that stick out your ass," the stranger snorts after you

Me trying to figure how how that even makes sense from a physics perspective

🤔🤔🤔

Is this like the thing where u can’t pull out fish hook or an arrow bc it’s barbed at the end? So u have to push it through the other side?

Idk how it happened, but I’m like high key cheering for Kelsey and reader to become like best gal pals or maybe even cousins, if u know what I mean 😉

Unsolicited 1

Warnings: bad self-thought/talk, bullying, insults, low self-esteem, money problems, more dark elements to come.

Wouldn't mind some feedback! Lloyd was driving me nuts so I had to do it. Thank you in advance 💜

The glass cases and sparkling gems contrast your unbelonging as you step through the elaborately decorated entry. Your imposter syndrome nips at your neck as you twist the strap of your purse, the brown leather faded and cracked.

You swallow and look around. Unlike the rest of the mall, the shop is mellow and nearly empty.

You pick at your wooly cuff poking out from under your puffer coat. You go to the counter where a woman in a black turtleneck dress smiles flirtily at another customer. He looks like he belongs, though you're not a fan of the mustache. He chuckles as she helps clip a gold watch around his wrist.

"Does it bring out my eyes?" He kids as he puts his arm straight and pushes his shoulders back.

"They don't need help," the associate, her name, Kelsey, etched on her silver name tag, "it suits you."

"Mm, sure, you're not just saying that for the commission, are you?" He holds out his arm for her to unclasp the watch, his dark jacket is no doubt designer, if not tailored to his tapered torso.

You tune out their back and forth, the superficial exchange only adding to your displacement. You have a budget and a mission. You want to be in and out before you can dwell on everything you can't afford.

You peer through the glass at the Rolexes, casios, and Tom Ford pieces. Your eyes wander, looking for another employee to fetch your purchase. You don't want it to sell before you can get your hands on it. The silver watch with the sapphire face is exactly like the picture saved on your phone.

You lean forward trying to see behind the tall counter then pace to the corner and around the rear of the store. There is only the security guard at the door, watching shoppers mill by. You go back to the front where the customer continues his playful tet-a-tet.

You sigh and cross your arms, heat gathering in your thick coat. Your scalp speckles damply and you sway as your patience dwindles. The man browses the cufflinks as he asks advice on style.

"Ahem," you swallow your reticence at last, "sorry to interrupt–"

"And yet you did," the man retorts, "you can wait your turn." His sneer is derisive as he takes you in, head to toe, almost revolted by your dumpy attire. "That is if you can afford it."

"Excuse me, I…" your voice crackles and you shrug away the insult, "I'm sorry, just, when you have a moment."

You step away and drop your arms as you pretend to look at the earrings. The man scoffs and the associate gives a tinkly giggle.

"You know what would look good on you," the man says as you look out through the open wall into the mall, "pearls."

"Pearls?" Kelsey preens.

"Oh, yes, a nice little necklace around that pretty neck," he intones.

"I don't know, aren't pearls kind of… outdated?"

"Not the ones I have in mind."

You cringe at his entendre and roll your eyes. You should just leave. You really don't have the money. A year of scrimping and saving and for what? Colin doesn't care if you give him gold or a card, he's just happy with whatever.

Still, he deserves it. You just want him to feel special. For one day. To feel like he didn't settle, like maybe, he got the prize.

"You hold onto those for me, sweetheart," the man's voice carries in the vacant shop, "I'm gonna have a look at the tie pins."

You turn your head to watch his figure from the corner of your eye. He sidles around the other side of the store and you spin around. You go to the counter as Kelsey puts away a tray of cufflinks.

"Hi, yeah, if you don't mind I wanted this silver watch," you point over to where you found it.

"Sure, sorry about the wait. We're a bit short staffed at the moment," she smiles, "um, which one was it?"

"This one," you shift over and point over it, "with the blue."

She takes out the watch and brings it onto the counter. "Is it for someone special?"

"My husband," you smile, "he needs a new one. He got a new job so…"

"Oh, how exciting, is this the one then?"

"Yeah, I think so."

"And were you interested in the insurance plan? It includes free cleaning and battery replacement."

"Hm, how much would that be?"

"For this price range, an extra one-thirty."

"Oh," you can't hold back the impact of the number, "um, what's the total for just the watch?"

You hear a snicker and a shadow blurs in your peripheral. Kelsey goes to the till and you move along to stand across from her. The taxes are more than you expect.

"There's a Wal-Mart down the road," the man mocks as he leans on the glass, "think they might be more in your range."

You don't acknowledge him, merely biting down. What an asshole.

"I'll take the insurance, am I able to split the transaction?"

"Sure thing, how do we want to split it?"

"I'll pay for the watch in cash and the rest credit."

You put your purse on the counter and search through your clutter of receipts for your ziploc of bills. You peel open the top and start to count through the twenties, tens, fives, and hundreds, apologising for it as you do.

"You could have a good time down at the strip joint," the stranger comes closer and you turn slightly as you try to block him out. "Aw, baby, am I hurting your feelings? Maybe you could take that money and get a manicure instead? Or sort out that rat's nest."

"What do you want?" You slam down your hand as you lose count.

He smirks as you meet his eyes, bold and sparkling with amusement, "that."

"Leave me alone," you start over, frazzled as a few bills slip and flutter down to the floor. You bend to pick them up and grit your teeth as you resume your count.

"It's okay," Kelsey says, "I'll count."

You look at her and nod, pushing over the loose money and the ziplock. You take out your wallet and slide free your credit card, for emergencies only.

You wait as the man lingers closer. You wince as you feel him touch your hood and you pull away from him.

"Don't touch me. What are you doing?"

"Sir," Kelsey says as she puts the cash in her till, "please, I–"

"Mind your business," he snaps and keeps his eyes on you, "I'm just tryna figure who would marry… you?"

"Credit," you say to Kelsey as you motion with your card. She hits a button and you swipe.

"No wonder you're splurging, gotta keep him around somehow."

You key in your code and submit payment. You shakily place the card in your wallet and pack up your purse as Kelsey closes the watch box and slips it in an ivory paper bag. She tears off your receipt and staples it to the warranty.

"You gonna cry for me? Hm? Or maybe you can go home to the old man and tell him another guy actually noticed your fat ass–"

"Shut up." You snap as you swipe the bag off the counter, "I told you to leave me alone."

"Just one tear for me," he steps closer.

"Sir, please, I'll have to call security," Kelsey warns.

"You won't. I'm about to drop a month's worth of sales on you so you'll sit pretty and wait for me, dolly."

She flinches and curls her lip, fighting against her customer service smile.

"It's fine," you wave her off, "I'm leaving."

"Tell daddy you need a good fucking to get that stick out your ass," the stranger snorts after you, "if he can even find a hole."

You steam and puff your chest as you pass into the mall. Your lashes flick as your eyes sear. Just your fucking luck to run into the biggest douchebag in the place.

#lloyd hansen x reader #Lloyd hansen

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