#tiny!tommy

 ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *. .*  ･ ｡ﾟ☆ : ☽ .* ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *. .*

Things fell into a comfortable pattern after that Saturday.

Once a week, Tommy would come around for lunch or dinner and hang out with the Crafts. At first, it was to just watch a tv show or chat, but slowly over time it became an afternoon out in the park, or baking with Phil, listening to guitar with Wilbur. A short thirty minute stay grew to an hour, then two, then three and soon Tommy was around a couple times a week. The more time he spent out in the open with the family, the less time he began to spend in the walls.

Even on days when they weren’t home, Tommy often found himself hanging out in the open at Bean size. He’d slowly been starting to understand the clock on the wall and how time worked.  Turns out the little sticks on the clock were actually important, and now Tommy knew what it meant when Phil said he’d be working from 9:00 till 5:00pm. 

Essentially, the need to borrow at night all the time became less of a necessity, as did bringing his borrowing gear with him. Why use a hook and rope to reach the top shelf, when you can just grow and reach the shelf with your hands? Although he did still keep his hook on him, just until he left the walls. 

The number of mousetraps had doubled since he accidentally set the one off in the garage. The following day, Tommy had done a scout for more traps and disarmed six traps, (three of which were also in the garage) but when he returned to set the phone charger up, the traps were reset with more surrounding the last.

Though he had set the phone up, the traps were starting to appear in other rooms, and it certainly had Tommy more alert until he was clear of the walls. If setting them off caused Phil to get more, then he was better off leaving them untouched to reduce the risk, but having traps lurking around every corner was extremely nerve wracking with the threat they posed. Shifting into the open was honestly an instant relief to just escape the damn traps.

He found the quiet life he once had in the walls had begun to be overtaken by his want to remain a part of the Beans’ world. The key Phil had given him was hung proudly on his wall, since he didn’t really need it to get in and out of the house. While he knew Phil and Wilbur said he could come whenever he wanted, he never had the heart to leave a note like Phil had asked. He knew he was welcome to visit, but something about telling the Beans he’d visited while they were away didn’t sit right with the Borrower. 

Borrowers weren’t meant to be seen, afterall. Leaving a note felt wrong, and went against the boy’s instinct to remain hidden. 

When the Crafts weren’t home, he was learning about their world in a way he never would have dreamed of as a Borrower. Watching movies was a personal favourite pastime, as was tinkering with the house appliances. Did you know that a toaster makes bread like, ten times tastier? It comes out warm and crispy and with butter added on top, it’s like a party in your mouth! Except when it’s burnt- he doesn’t recommend the black bread. No amount of butter can save it- trust him, he’s tried. 

If he left a note saying he’d been and spent the whole afternoon fiddling with the record player or TV, he’d look a bit silly. Although he had a sneaking suspicion Phil knew whenever he’d been over. Of course, he’d shrink and leave before the Crafts ever arrived home to find out he’d been, but the knowing looks he’d get when he next visited and as they randomly decided to show him how to use whatever he’d been messing with without them, was enough to confirm Phil was at least somewhat aware of what he’d been doing. 

There was however still one member of the Crafts not so fond of his visits.

Technoblade rarely ever spent any one-on-one time with Tommy. Had the blond not watched him from the walls, Tommy would know basically nothing about the Bean. If he ever overstayed his welcome, Technoblade had a way of letting him know. He was grateful that Phil and Wilbur very rarely ever pushed questions about his past, and had long since stopped asking him about his parents and trying to walk him home from the park without his permission, but Technoblade still pushed the occasional uncomfortable question. 

Ever since his outburst at that first lunch, Tommy had been extra wary of just how observant the pinket was, but he was running out of excuses to his onslaught of questions. Questions that were always a little too close for comfort…

“How’s school Tommy?”

“Oh you don’t go to school Tommy? 

“Why is that Tommy?”

“What’s home life like Tommy?”

“What did you do today Tommy?”

While the questions may not sound bad to the average listener, Technoblade always asked them in a way that had him on edge. Often he just changed the subject or would answer with the same fake cover story, but those answers wouldn’t satisfy the insistent teen for long. Wilbur and Phil sort of covered his reasoning by answering for him, but it only made Technoblade more persistent the next time he asked.

As much as he wanted Technoblade to like him, Tommy didn’t want to jeopardise his secret and figured with time, he may be able to work something out to gain the Bean’s favour. Probably not any time soon, but that was okay. 

He’d been patient this long.

･ ｡ﾟ☆: *. .*  ･ ｡ﾟ☆ : ☽ .* ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *. .*

It was another normal Thursday afternoon, and based on the lights' high position in the walls, nearing mid-day. That aching feeling in the Borrower’s chest was creeping up on him again. Tommy hated to admit it, but he recognised the feeling well, and was determined to not let it bring him down. He had coped with far worse and for far longer before. Just because he felt lonely again did not mean he was going to let it consume him now.

He stared around his room knowing it was probably due a clean and dust down, but his gaze trailed back and lingered on his guitar pic door. It had been a couple of days since he last caught up with one of the Crafts. Maybe he could head out and just pop in for a bit? Or even hang out in the living room and watch a movie till someone got home, shrink and then reappear? That certainly sounded more appealing than staying here for much longer. 

At least movies drowned out the quietness the room held. 

Tommy decided that was probably for the best. Better to escape his plaguing thoughts and try and distract himself then clean a home no one would ever see. 

‘Greedy brat.’ 

The bitter comment hung heavy whenever his home held just a few too many items. His old alley in the colony only ever had a trashy bed made of leaves and small food storage of one or two crumbs at a time. If he ever had anything more, it wouldn’t be long before another Borrower decided he had too much, and would strip it of everything that Tommy found remotely important. Those were harsh weeks, scouring for scraps to simply survive the night. 

Looking at the cow plush and feather key chain he’d been given made his heart warmly swell, knowing that no one could take these gifts from him now. 

Throwing on his red hoodie, Tommy slipped out the front door and began a slow walk to Wilbur’s bedroom. Thanks to the floor entrance by the Bean’s bed, he wouldn’t need his gear to emerge in the Bean’s space, but his hook still bumped rhythmically against his side as he walked, just in case. 

Tommy’s house was only a meter or so from Wilbur's bed behind the walls. When he first scouted the place, he found the old shoe box crammed into the wall, untouched besides the thick layer of dust that had formed on the outside. How the old box had ended up in the wall was beyond the Borrowers' understanding, but on his first scout, it had not been his first choice of living quarters. 

It would serve as a decent enough camp whilst he looked for somewhere more permanent, but of course it just so happened that same first night, Wilbur had come home and decided to play guitar all evening. Any other plans he’d had to scout further were immediately diminished by the sweet strumming of Wilbur on his guitar, which had Tommy’s thoughts completely enthralled. It was all he could think about whilst he tried to scout a better home base, but every time he found somewhere more suitable, the guitar melodies would play in his mind on loop. 

Sure it was dangerous living in a space so close to a Human Bean, but logically he argued Wilbur was the easiest to borrow from, and only two rooms down from the kitchen which made food runs a lot easier with less distance to traverse. Besides, Danger was his middle name- Of course he lived life on the edge!

As he walked down the thin corridors, Tommy ran his hand along his safety line, checking everything was still intact. He passed by an old entrance he had semi closed back up since Wilbur rearranged his room, leaving the initial entry/exit spot exposed between the Bean’s bed and dressing table, and continued on to the one in the far corner under the Bean’s bed. 

This entrance was cleverly hidden in the very far corner behind where the wallpaper met the floor. It blended in with the dark shadows cast by the bed overhead, and had bits and bobs shoved in front of it from Wilbur's lazy cleaning habits, which made it perfect to hide by when Tommy wanted to be closer to the music in action- even if he couldn’t actually see anything. 

He emerged slowly, looking and listening for any sign of the Bean being around and edged his way to the end before peering out and up to the bed above in case Wilbur was on top of it. Not seeing any discarded school bag, or socked feet over the edge, Tommy inched out further confirming the coast was clear.

It was a Friday afternoon and a quick glance at Wil’s alarm clock showed in red it was 12:46pm. Phil had gone to work this morning and the twins were at school, so they wouldn’t be home for at least a couple more hours yet. Now would be a good time to do a quick food restock and then a movie whilst no one was home. 

Tommy focused his thoughts and allowed himself to grow in size, taking a moment to adjust to the room change as he regained his bearings. The head spinning he felt afterwards was slowly getting better with practice, but it was still always such a rush knowing this was something he could do.

Slowly opening the door and closing it behind him, Tommy tiptoed down the hallway carefully surveying the kitchen and living room, just in case someone was home. He made almost no noise as he went, his movements slow and intentional as though a single sound would echo like a screech. Body pushed up against the wall, the blond peaked around the corner to the kitchen and spied the phone charger port. As per usual, all three phones were missing from their cords, and looking by the window showed that no new lunch dishes appeared to be by the sink. 

The coast was clear. 

Tommy breathed, releasing the tension he’d been holding and slunk into the kitchen, going straight for one of the upper cabinets. Hopefully they had bought some more- AH HAH! Yes! They did buy more BBQ crackers like he hoped! A new packet had just been opened, and he quickly pulled out a good handful, popping them on the bench and returning the packet back to the shelf closed back up. 

Now if he just had something to wrap them up in, looking around the other shelves… Ah, perfect! Cling film on the top shelf. A bit of that would do nicely. The blond reached up on his tip toes as high as he could to reach the roll of plastic wrap, but even at his Bean height he couldn’t seem to reach it. 

‘Ugh, what's the point of being able to shrink and grow if I still can’t reach the top shelf?’ 

Not overly considering his safety and whether this was a good idea, Tommy pushed himself up onto the kitchen counter, and hastily stood up on the wooden surface. He teetered out on the edge a little bit to get around the open cabinet door and stuck his hand into the cupboard, feeling about till his hand landed on the smooth surface of the plastic, and began to gently tug it out. 

“Almost- got it.” He mumbled in concentration, as he stuck his tongue out for extra focus.

“What are you doing?” a loud voice demands from behind the boy.

Tommy yelped in surprise and slipped forward, grabbing onto the cabinet door for purchase as he tried to regain his balance. Clinging to the door, he pulled himself back up to stop himself from falling to the kitchen floor below, hitting the door with a slight thud. His head shot back over his shoulder, fire in his eyes, ready to cuss out whoever almost sent him tumbling to the floor.

“HEY! Can’t you see I’m trying to-” The words died in his throat.

There standing with a steely glare in the entry doorway was Technoblade- and he looked pissed. 

･ ｡ﾟ☆: *. .*  ･ ｡ﾟ☆ : ☽ .* ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *. .*

Technoblade just wanted to eat his lunch.

While technically he should be in school right now, he’d left his lunch at home and he wasn’t particularly fond of the cafeteria food they served. Wilbur had joked, and dared him to run home and get it not believing he’d actually go for it, but it had been awhile since he had gone for a decent mile run and he really didn’t feel like eating whatever slop they were serving. Besides, any opportunity to stick it to his brother's ego was always funny.

What he hadn’t expected when he came through the locked doors of his house, was to see Tommy scaling his kitchen cupboards. 

Now don’t get him wrong, he was slowly getting over how attached his brother and father were to the kid- as long as they left him out of it. But having the kid over and knowing he was coming was one thing; but having them in their house, when no one was home and getting in without a key was something else entirely. The front door was locked, he knew that when he slipped the key in and unlocked the latch; but somehow that same kid was in his house, scaling their furniture and stealing their food? 

How did he know he wasn’t stealing their stuff too?

Tommy froze like a deer in headlights, with Technoblade’s gaze trapping him in place. He’d seen the Bean mad before from a distance, but this was an entirely different level of ‘you’re stuffed.’ Technoblade’s brown eyes were almost glowing red with fury and Tommy felt powerless against them. Phil and Wilbur hadn’t had a problem with him taking their stuff, but Techno clearly was not. 

“I-um was, um.” Tommy fiddled with the cabinet handle, avoiding Technoblade’s gaze atop the kitchen counter as he tried to think of a reasonable excuse.

“Get. Off.” Technoblade gritted out, his jaw clenched as he motioned once with his hand for Tommy to get down.

Tommy obeyed instantly, his heart rate spiking as he tumbled off the counter as fast as his gangly limbs would let him. He honestly didn’t know what to do. In Techno's eyes, he’d magically appeared in the kitchen and was taking food without permission- that would look bad to anyone! 

“Do you want to explain why you’re in my house?” The pinket spat as he stalked closer to Tommy. “Or better yet-” now only a foot away, Techno leaned in as the boy swallowed hard as he was threatened.

“How?”

Rather than answer, Tommy's breathing picked up and the instinct to flee screamed at him to run. 

‘Did he not know about the spare key? Surely Phil would have told Technoblade it was okay for him to be here when they weren’t?’

One glance his way told the Borrower he didn’t think as much. He needed to escape, to flee, to getaway or else Techno would skin him alive! His body began to grow warm and instantly the Borrower realised what it meant. 

No, no no no! His body was trying to shift! 

His fight or flight response was kicking in and now was the worst possible moment! If he shifted now, Technoblade would know he wasn’t Human and everything he’d worked for would be ruined. He couldn’t let that happen. He had to control it. 

Technoblade stood expectantly waiting for an answer. The kid looked terrified, and had his head down, eyes squeezed firmly shut, as they tried to steady themself. It almost looked like his whole body was moving with his breathing and it made the teen feel off. Part of him felt bad for scaring Tommy so badly, but at the same time he wanted answers and was sick of the kid dancing around the truth. If he wouldn’t be open and honest, then that made the kid a threat. He would do anything to protect his family, and if that meant terrifying some orphan child to do so, so be it.

“Well?” Technoblade insisted impatiently, when Tommy’s breathing finally evened out. “I’m waiting.”

Tommy took a deep breath, feeling the last of the tingly sensation die out, noting the world hadn’t changed size and he had stayed the same size minus maybe a centimetre or two. 

‘Okay good; one crisis averted.’ Tommy thought as he prepared to face whatever Technoblade had in store for him.

“Umm, fancy seeing you here.” The blond greeted awkwardly. 

Okay look he doesn’t have a lot of options in this situation and if there was one thing he was good at, it was lying his way out of sticky situations. Though Technoblade didn’t look all that convinced.

“I live here dumbass. Try again.” 

Tommy bit his lip as Techno’s impatience grew. 

“I was in the area, and being the incredibly handsome man I am, I decided I’d come pay you all a visit but whoops! I forgot you losers had school so thought I’d come in anyways and treat myself to your hospitality without you, because CLEARLY, you are lacking it.” 

Technoblade didn’t seem to appreciate that answer either…

“Look, I was just hungry and grabbing a couple of crackers.” Tommy pointed to the stack of BBQ crackers he’d gathered on the kitchen counter. Techno side eyed them but didn’t move.

“I was just trying to grab some cling film to wrap them up and go. Phil gave me a spare key and said I could come whenever. I was going to leave a note. Honest! ” 

It wasn’t exactly a lie. He really was going to grab the crackers and go. Maybe not leave the note thing or before the movie, but Phil did say he could come whenever he was hungry and take what he wanted. It’s why Phil had given him a spare key in the first place- even if he never actually used it.

“Don’t play ‘coy’ with me, kid.” Technoblade spat as he stepped forward to jab a finger into the blond's chest. “You don’t just show up in someone's house randomly to grab a bite and dip without asking first.” 

“But it’s the truth!” Tommy insisted. “Ask Phil and he’ll tell you!” 

Techno’s patience was thinning now. He of all people would know if his Dad gave out a spare key to the house. You don’t just give the random street kid a key and not say anything to your family. 

Tommy looked just about ready to bite or cry- it was kind of hard to read them, not that he overly cared in the moment. It wasn’t completely unreasonable for his Dad to have given Tommy a key. His father did have a soft spot for kids and babies of sorts. He was convinced that Phil was half avian purely by the number of baby birds that man had nursed back to health; but a human child is a bigger deal than some fledglings, and he still should have told him if he was giving them a key.

Technoblade huffed as he rolled his eyes, harshly snagging Tommy by his hood, and dragged him into the living room where he unceremoniously dumped the boy on the couch.

“Don’t. Move.” Technoblade warned with a pointed finger, before moving to the hallway to call Phil, leaving Tommy splayed across the cushions to regain his bearings. 

He was getting to the bottom of this, kid be damned.

･ ｡ﾟ☆: *. .*  ･ ｡ﾟ☆ : ☽ .* ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *. .*

Ohhhh I've been waiting to post this chapter >:3 Honestly this fic was never meant to have this happen, but hey ideas happened and you're girl loves the angst and fluff times- even if we haven't had the fluff yet... (I'm sorry for the cliff hanger but the chapter got too long and I needed to split it!!!!) Also be honest, how many of you thought there would be a reveal this chapter? Genuinely curious if you did so let me know ;P

Thank you to my lovely beta reader @dingbatnix and the number of times I kept asking 'does this sound too forced' lol. I swear I kept asking you so many times about Techno's character in the lead up to this chapter and during it, you were probably sick of it lol. Thanks again for putting up with me and reading!!

TAG LIST: @bag-o-gummies @brick-a-doodle-do @justarandomsloth @veryfunkycheesecake @kayla-crazy-stuffs @da3dm

Link to tag list for future tags :3

"Caged"

—

[I'm just going to do some of the lines of Dialogue]

[Context: Sapnap has Borrower!Dream in a Cage, as you can imagine, Dream doesn't like that one bit-]

—

|One of the Weaker ones|

|•

Borrower!Dream: "Hey, it's fall, you know what that means?"

"..."

Borrower!Dream: "Leaves!........ Like what I'd like to do!"

——————————

|Some of My Favorites-|

|•

"You seem to have never heard the word 'No' in your life, so allow me to spell it out for you. 'N'. 'O'. 'NO'! You know what 'No' rhymes with? 'Go', as in 'Let Me Go!!!'"

———————————

"Your highest grade was an F in 'how to read a room'."

———————————

"You went to college? Was your degree a Masters in Misery per chance? If so, they taught you a bit too well."

———————————

Sapnap walks over to the Cage

B!D[Borrower!Dream]: "I assume your back for your usual stand up routine?"

Sap: "No-"

B!D: "Then sit the fuck back down!"

———————————

B!D: "Hey…. Hey…. Heeeeey…. HEY!"

Sap: *Turns sharply* "What?!"

B!D: *Flips him off through the Cage* "Fu¢|⟨ You!"

Sap: *Rolls his eyes with a Scowl before leaving the room*

———————————

|Cut Lines|

|•

[This was an addition to the Second line] "Oh, sorry I missed the B in 'B'ing an asshole!!!"

———————————

"Your Career is in Comedy?! You couldn't get laughter from a crowd of clowns!"

———————————

[The Full Line]

|•

"Your highest grade was an F in 'how read a room'. Oh, sorry I missed your B in 'B'ing an asshole!!"

——————————

[Yeah- Dream is Not happy at All-]

[Also, it's worth mentioning that these lines were said over the course of a few weeks, Sapnap is not a great person in this{I apologize-}, there's mice in the walls, George is a Dormouse Hybrid in Hibernation & Dream is absolutely terrified for George's well-being while he's stuck trapped in a Cage afraid of telling Sapnap why he's so desperate to be let go{because of formentioned not great person-ness}]

|[——————————]|

MC_Poke_T; 'School Grounds'

—

[Have a summary of Stuff 👍]

—

So basically, right now my Brain is spiraling through who people's Pokemon are going to be, since it takes place in the Scarlet/Violet game academy.

Dream has a Mimikyu named "Eevee" because it's disguised as an Eevee instead of a Pikachu, which is technically his starter, since he got Mimikyu before he turns 10 & gets an official starter from the professor.

He chooses Sprigatito as his 'official' starter & names it "Patches". So right now Dream has Eevee The Mimikyu, & Patches The Sprigatito. I don't imagine Dream{or anyone really} to be the MC from the games {so no Koraidon/Miraidon}. I want him to get a Leafeon at some point, as a little angst bit for Eevee & Dream so they can have a Sweet wholesome bonding scene afterwards.

Sapnap & George are in this as transfer students, although, putting this out there now; I don't plan on having any ships for anyone in this AU, since they're all 10 year olds. Sapnap is a transfer student from Galar & is a Scorbunny Poke-Person [Think 'Hybrid' but Pokemon{Please Don't Ask}], with a Scorbunny partner.

George is a transfer student from either Kalos or Kanto, I haven't decided yet. But I already want him to be a Water or Ice Type Poke-Person, I'm immediately thinking his Vapaceon [Water/Ice Type] from Eeveelution;SMP, just because I feel it fits him, plus it's from Kanto. I actually feel like George would hide his Poke-features, simply because he's a bit self-conscious about them.

|[——————————]|

"Borrower Brothers"

—

[Who wants something small for their brain to rattle about?]

—

Dream paused, wondering what to do. He shuffles his hand slowly until it's facing palm up next to them. The smaller of the two crawls into the palm of his hand, pulling the other with them; the pair curl up with each other, possibly from the chilly air. Dream moves his other hand to where he's carefully cupped around the two tiny forms in his hand.

He slowly brings them close to his chest, opening his hands slightly & peering down at the pair huddled together. The Bat borrower reaches out before pausing briefly, slowly grabbing the soft fabric of Dream's jacket. Dream holds the pair close as he walks into the living room/kitchen area, once he's there he grabs his phone from the table & dials a familiar number.

After the other end picks up, Dream speaks in a hushed voice into the phone, "Hey Bad……"

"Hey!" Came the cheerful reply, "What's up? You're not usually a caller, especially without notice."

Dream shuffles a bit, "It-it's hard to explain…. Over the phone at least- but, could you please come over real quick…. & bring Sapnap with you-?",

"Yeah?" Bad's confusion radiates through the word, "hold on, we'll be right there."

Dream nods to himself, "Thanks…" He responds before he hangs up.

|[——————————]|

Tags;

@baka-monarch @gl1tche5 @milder-manners

@dusk-in-neon @catchthesehands-onao3

@blueinkphantom @mad-mild @ingo4you

@rumy1313 @scoops404 @i-am-beckyu

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It was night, Dream was asleep, and Tommy was determined to see what was under the man's mask. For the entire time Tommy had been with the human, he hadn’t seen his face, not even once. Dream never took his mask off around the teen, and whenever Tommy pestered him about it, Dream would either avoid the question or just give him dumb reasons, like; “I’m too handsome, I can’t show off too much,” and; “I got mauled by a bear once. Nobody wants to see that.” Tommy was pretty sure that Dream’s excuses were bullshit.

He wanted to know what the human’s face looked like. He was pretty sure that Dream was a human, and not a hybrid, because he had normal human ears and didn’t have any horns or anything obvious to give it away. With a smirk, Tommy had the thought that Dream might be a bunny hybrid. Then he frowned. That wouldn't fit in with the sheer size of the human. Maybe he was a donkey…? That would certainly explain the slight wheeze to Dream’s laughter whenever Tommy said something particularly hilarious.

Tommy had stayed awake until he was sure that the human was asleep, listening intently to the great whooshing lungfuls of air Dream took until they evened out to a slow, steady rhythm. When he was certain that Dream was dead to the world, Tommy crawled out of his makeshift bed and made his way to the entrance of Dream's satchel.

It had gotten too hot during the past few nights, the last of the fall heat resurging with a vengeance, so Dream had taken to leaving the flap of the satchel cracked open for the inchling. It had gotten to the point where Tommy didn’t particularly feel like running away, and Dream trusted him enough to not keep him totally captive all of the time.

Neither of them wanted another repeat of the cave spider incident, so Tommy stayed near Dream. If he really needed to, he could make a run for it when they made it to the city, but...after all that Dream had done to keep Tommy safe...he wasn’t as inclined to escape anymore. Even if...even if Dream had killed people.

Tommy pushed past the flap of the bag and beelined towards the dark monolith of the human’s sleeping figure. Dream was curled on his side, but he still towered over Tommy, the dark shadow of his shoulder almost ten times higher than the miniature teenager.

The human was turned towards the bag, one thick arm pillowed underneath his head and the other resting on the ground in front of his masked face. He had removed his cloak for once, having spread it out over the mulchy ground to sleep on for the night. His mask glittered in the moonlight filtering in from the canopy, a stark white compared to the murky greys and blacks of the night forest.

Tommy sidled closer, slipping carefully underneath the gap between the human's arm and chest. He paused for one long moment, grimacing at the heat he could feel radiating from the human’s skin, but pushing past it to listen closely to Dream's breathing. Deeming it safe, Tommy began inching along the small space until he reached the small gap between the human's huge hand and stubbled chin.

Now was the moment of truth. Tommy let loose a wicked grin as he reached for Dream's mask, chest fluttering with excitement. Finally, he would see what Dream's face looked like!

Just as he set his hands on the edge of the white porcelain, there was an abrupt rush of movement, and something huge wrapped around his whole body, sweeping him off of his feet and jerking him high into the air.

“Prime, fuck!” He yelped, body attempting to lunge out of the way, but it was too late, and he was trapped. His chest began to stagger, lungs stuttering for air as he realized that it was a colossal hand that was wrapped around his body, fingers way bigger than he could ever hope to be firmly squeezing around his limbs.

Tommy couldn’t help how his heart began to frantically pound behind his ribs, shoulders creeping up to his ears as he squeezed his eyes shut against the creeping terror that snagged the back of his neck. Shit, this was a bad idea, What was he thinking? What if Dream got mad that Tommy had woken him up? He’d…he wouldn’t hurt Tommy over it, right?

What if the human was too tired to be careful with Tommy?

The fist rose into the air, and Tommy’s eyes snapped open at the muddled groan that warbled out of the human’s broad chest. Pale shoulders shone silver in the moonlight as the colossus pushed himself upright, one knee curling upwards as he hunched over the smaller blond.

Tommy fought back the shiver that crawled up his spine, wriggling fruitlessly against the rough, calloused fingers wrapped around his body. He could feel the pattern of the fingerprints pressing into his limbs, almost like sandpaper against his skin.

A low, indiscernible mumble had his breath stuttering, and Tommy snapped his gaze upwards, past the dark chest in front of his face to the bright, silvery mask looming over him like a hanging moon.

"Tommy," Dream groaned, glancing up at the dark, starry sky past the canopy and then back down at the tiny teenager. "What are you doing?" His dirty blond hair was a dark grey in the shadows of the night, but his mask glinted brightly, contrasting heavily with the muted colors of grey and silver and black the moon created.

“You weren’t trying to escape again, were you? I thought we were past that.” Dream’s voice was thick and gruff from sleep, but there was still a gentle underlying tone that made Tommy’s shoulders relax. This was Dream. Tommy could trust him. Dream…probably wasn't mad, and he definitely wasn't going to hurt Tommy if he actually was.

Tommy forced a scoff and attempted to pull his right arm free from the warm prison of the fist. “No! I was trying to look at your face!” He could barely even twitch his fingers, much less move his whole arm. He was hopelessly trapped, until Dream decided to let him go.

Tommy choked back an odd lump growing in the back of his throat and tried not to panic. This was a situation that he had put himself in, after all.

The human adjusted his grip suddenly, fingers peeling away from Tommy's body and hand tilting until the palm was a platform that the inching could stagger to his feet on. Relief washed away the budding panic, and Tommy huffed out a shaking breath as he regained his balance.

Dream seemed to squint at him for a long, long moment before a low, long yawn escaped from behind his mask. “You don't need to see my face. I'm too ugly,” he drowsed, reaching up with his other hand to blearily bump it against his mask. He flinched, pulling his hand back and tilting his head at it accusingly.

Had...did Dream forget that he had the mask on? That was hilarious. Tommy forced back an amused smirk and strode forward over the bare palm instead, cocking his hip and pointing an accusing finger up at the bright mask.

"You don't have a face, huh? Is that it? It's gotta be!" He exclaimed, waving emphatically at the huge disk. “I bet that’s why you wear it. Because you’ve got like, no nose or something!”

"It's to protect my identity, you doof," Dream huffed, exasperated. "Nobody's ever seen my face."

"Not even your mother?" The teen shot back. Dream sucked in a breath to reply, but before he could say anything, Tommy pushed on. "Are you just that butt-ugly, then? Not even your mum wanted to look at you?"

That drew out a startled laugh from the human, a laugh that quickly devolved into a long, strangled series of wheezes. Tommy leaned back on his heels, slightly concerned. He’d never heard Dream make a sound like that.

"Are you–are you fucking dying?" Tommy accused, brows furrowing as he hesitantly stepped closer. “That doesen’t sound fucking normal, man!”

Dream just wheezed harder, curling up over his lap as he struggled to force out words. He drew the hand holding Tommy closer to his chest, large fingers curling in around the teen as he struggled to breathe past the air squeezing out of his lungs.

"You—haaaaa—no?” Dream’s voice pitched up so high that Tommy almost couldn’t hear it, and a wide grin spread over the borrower’s face when he finally realized what was going on. Dream was laughing.

“You sound like—like a goddamn teakettle!” Tommy finally cackled, and then he couldn’t help it. An explosive sound, almost like a cough, ripped out of his throat, and then he was doubling over, overcome with barking laughter.

“You—” Dream squeaked out, planting his free hand over the face of his mask. “You sound like an asthmatic duck.” And Tommy lost it, nearly keeling over from the explosive giggles rattling out of his small frame. Dream almost seemed to compose himself, but then a small snicker escaped from his lips, and it was all over.

It was almost compounded. Tommy would start to catch his breath, but then he would hear a particularly high whistle from Dream and lose it all over again. Tommy was on his knees in Dream’s palm, guffawing roughly enough to send Dream back over the edge of hysteria.

“We sound—ridiculous,” Dream finally managed to gasp, massive chest heaving as it struggled to draw in enough air to compensate for everything he’d just choked out.

“You sound like a fuckin’ donkey, man,” Tommy coughed, pounding a hand against his chest to try and clear his throat. There were tears in the corners of his eyes, and he felt nearly breathless, but in a good way. He hadn’t had a laugh like that in a long time.

“I’ll have you know, my Ma likes the way I laugh, thank you very much,” Dream mumbled, but the grin was still evident in his voice. He glanced up at the sky again, audibly yawning, and looked back down at Tommy.

“What time is it, even?” Dream muttered, turning in place ever-so-slightly. He reached down to his cloak and poked around a pocket for a minute before he pulled out a coin-sized golden disk on a chain and squinted at it. There was a dark half-circle taking up half of the front surface of the disk, and a tiny white dot decorated the right quarter section of the dark half.

Dream groaned and all but rolled backwards onto his makeshift bed like the world's gentlest landslide, hand underneath Tommy steady despite his uncoordinated movements. His hand dropped down suddenly, and the palm tilted, forcing Tommy to slide off of his palm and onto the human’s expansive chest.

Tommy lunged for the human’s face the moment his feet hit solid ground, intent on tackling his mask, but a broad, heavy palm dropped over his back and flattened him against the warm cotton stretched over the human’s chest.

“Go to sleep, Tommy,” Dream yawned, bringing his left hand to cover the seam between his mask and chin. “It's way too early to be awake…”

His free hand moved down to join the one pressed over Tommy, reaching around to cradle the back of the right hand and create a dark cave against his chest. The palm pinning the teen rose up, freeing him, but before he could make another attempt for Dream's mask, a thumb bigger than he was slid around to block his way out of the shelter Dream's hands made.

With his way out blocked so efficiently, Tommy grumbled and sprawled out onto his back. Even though it was dark, he could feel the presence of the palms hanging above his head, and could feel the warmth radiating from the skin underneath his back. Each breath Dream took rocked Tommy's body in a steady one, two, three out, one, two, three in, and he couldn't help the way his eyelids drooped.

Despite the last-minute fall heat, the warmth generated by Dreams’s body heat wasn't unbearable. In fact, it was rather soothing, lulling Tommy down into the deep dredges of sleep.

He'd get Dream next time.

The first snowflakes slowly began to fall upon the city. Christmas was drawing near, the markets were bustling, and the holiday spirit once again came alive. By evening, the snow had piled up into heaps, and it didn’t look like it would stop falling anytime soon.At the orphanage on the edge of town, the children and caretakers were also preparing for the upcoming Christmas. Everyone was busy decorating, baking, and cleaning. Everyone except Tommy. He was locked up in his room. Alone. Isolated in the darkness of his small chamber, with only the moonlight shining faintly through the torn blinds.He sat on his bed, staring at the flakes drifting slowly down outside the window.

After a while, his gaze wandered to the broken fence behind which stretched a vast forest. Everyone knew something lived in those woods… something that shouldn’t be there. And everyone who had ever dared to enter never came back. That was what fascinated Tommy. He dreamed of a grand adventure—of facing the monster said to dwell within the forest.

Maybe, with some luck, he might even slay the beast. Tommy was a foolish teenager with impossible dreams, but not foolish enough to ignore the fact that no one would really miss him if he left. People would shrug their shoulders and move on with their lives. He had wanted to run away for a long time, but never found the courage… until now. Now, he knew he was ready.

He packed his backpack with food, water, and a change of clothes. He put on a warm hoodie and jacket, wrapped himself in a scarf, pulled on a hat and gloves. A pocketknife hung from his belt. With a deep breath, he opened the window.One last glance around his room, a quiet sigh—and he leapt out.

The fall wasn’t far, and he landed safely in the fresh snow. Picking himself up, he made his way quickly toward the broken fence.Darkness and silence surrounded him as he walked the worn path into the woods. Then—something cracked behind him. He spun around sharply… but saw nothing. He stared into the shadows, but no matter how hard he tried, he saw nothing.

He regretted not bringing a flashlight.He pressed forward.

The further he went, the more it seemed as though the trees and the world itself were growing larger around him. The snowfall thickened until it nearly became a blizzard.He was cold. He didn’t know where to go. And he was afraid. Afraid of the legends.Tommy sighed.

Again—crack. Behind him. He turned—nothing. His pace quickened. Now the cracking came more often.

Suddenly, his feet slipped and he sprawled onto the ground. He had slid onto a frozen lake. For a moment, he just lay there, staring at the sky, as the heavy snowflakes quickly covered him. Then—crack. Louder this time. Closer.He shook the snow off, carefully getting back to his feet so he wouldn’t slip again. Something was there. Moving between the massive trees, barely visible through the storm. But he knew what he saw.

A towering figure. A giant…Panic struck him. This was exactly what he had hoped to avoid.His breathing grew sharp and fast. He had nowhere to hide. No real way to run. He stood exposed on the open plain of the frozen lake, with no chance of cover. And surely, it already knew where he was.

Tommy’s breath came in shallow bursts. His body screamed at him to stay still, to not make a sound, because the giant was sitting barely a few steps away, close enough to end him in a heartbeat. He found the giant's camp...or something. The fire popped, and Tommy flinched. His hands clutched the straps of his backpack until his knuckles hurt. The giant didn’t move much, only shifted his weight, a shadow larger than life bending with the flames. When he finally spoke, his voice carried the same weight as the storm outside—low, heavy, merciless.

“You shouldn’t be here.”

The words struck harder than a blow. Tommy’s throat tightened.

He wanted to explain—he didn’t even know what. That he hadn’t meant to intrude? That he hadn’t thought the stories were true? The words tangled in his mouth and died. The giant's eyes narrowed. In the flickering light, they seemed to glow faintly, like embers buried in ash.

“Humans,” he muttered, almost spitting the word. “Always wandering where they don’t belong."

Tommy felt his chest seize. He hates me. He hates all of us. His voice finally cracked free, small and trembling:

“…Are you going to kill me?”

The giant’s gaze held him still, and for a heartbeat Tommy swore he saw the answer there—yes. His skin crawled with the certainty of it. But then the giant looked away, staring into the fire instead. His jaw tightened.

“No” he said flatly.

The silence that followed was worse than any threat. Tommy’s pulse raced so loud he was sure the giant could hear it. He curled in on himself, trying to make his body as small as possible, as if that could hide him.

He was shaking, not just from the cold that still clung to his bones, but from the weight of the presence before him. the giant's massive hand shifted, tossing another log into the fire. The flames roared higher, throwing sharp light over his face. Tommy saw scars etched deep into his skin, an expression carved of stone, and eyes that looked as though they’d seen too much and cared for none of it. Yet, buried beneath that glare, Tommy thought—maybe he imagined it—there was something else.

Sam

Using the logic that he's a creeper, Sam would probably be pretty protective over small Tommy. Like, he'd be borderline possessive. Tommy would definitely curl up with cats to keep Sam from storing him when he's in trouble. Unorthodox but effective at keeping from time outs.

Sam would so be a very careful pred, he'd not want to hurt Tommy and probably hold his breath whenever they did noms, because his exhales hold thick smoke and heavy carbon. Think of it like his lungs are a working explosion, constantly burning the oxygen he pulls in to make the smoke and stuff he needs? It's weird but cool in my opinion.

Tommy definitely makes smoker jokes and constantly mocks Sam in a smoker voice. It's often the reason he gets nommed because he won't stop insisting Sam smokes 3 packs a day when he needs to be quiet.

At first, Tommy was very scared, like he would scream his lungs out and claw at Sam's storage until he was let out: levels of fear. Now he just squirms and will randomly be loud to scare Sam into thinking he's back when they first started doing this. Aka protective creeper go brrr.

Sam has a colored green storage and Tommy is constantly put off by it like- 'it shouldn't be that color!' and Sam just constantly reminds him that he's barely human and isn't gonna have human insides. Tommy still thinks he needs to fix it. He can't.

Tommy

Tommy took probably five minutes after Sam shrunk before he shoved him in his mouth because: instincts. Let me have this. He is the raccoon child for a reason.

Sam so freaked out and probably gave Tommy plenty of indigestion- probably let off an accidental explosion or two due to his panic. Let's just say Tommy had a scar in his stomach lining that Sam hasn't mentioned. Tommy finds out after having swallowed another shrunk person, probably Tubbo or Ranboo.

He loves teasing Sam, nipping and biting him all the time because it's his love language. Aka he wants to show Sam he cares and does it the only way he really knows- violence and noms. Noms too.

Using raccoons as reference, Tommy soaks Sam in water before he noms him, like Sam knows what's gonna happen when he's being held and Tommy pulls out a water bottle and a bowl.

Tommy spends the entire time Sam is in his storage, or stomach I haven't decided it should have the same conditions as Trapped Dream Au, purring and chittering to himself. He will poke and prod Sam until he's squirming around and stuff because he absolutely loves having the sensation!

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