0bsidians
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Summary
Technoblade gives Tommy a long look. Then, he shakes his head. "Fine. Whatever. A runt is…something precious. It's- hm, it's difficult to explain in common." He glances at the other piglin grunting a repetitive sound for a moment.
"Runts are piglins that are smaller than average. Much smaller. They're meant to be cared for. Healthy runts mean a healthy bastion. They're meant to me cherished," the brute pauses before adding on, "they're a good thing."
"Then why the fuck are you calling me that? I'm not a piglin."
Technoblade exchanges another glance with the other piglin. The latter nods with a determined look in his eyes. Technoblade sighs as he turns back to Tommy.
"My friend here is of the opinion that you're a hybrid. A piglin hybrid."
////Tommy should really pay better attention to his surroundings. Otherwise, he might not have ended up abducted by a pack of piglins and dragged back to their base.
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“You- you were supposed to be imps!” Tommy cries, and if he could, he would be clawing at the arms restraining him. Attempting to leave scratches with his blunt nails. He doesn’t want to imagine how sharp demon ones are, especially how Phil so effortlessly cut thickened twine.
"Well, well. You got a lot more than you bargained for, little celestial." Wilbur’s voice is a patronizing sneer, making it obvious that he finds the angel-boy harmless. "So much more." This has to be a part of their grand scheme, because they must have known from the start that he was sent from Heaven. But, why not kill him immediately?
OR: Tommy, under the misguidance of Dream, is sent on his final mission to return three imps back to Hell. What he doesn't know, is that there were never any imps and that there was a secret plan the entire time. Phil, on the other hand, is just delighted to finally meet his third son.
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“My gold.” Techno spoke, thousands of voices echoing in his words. Whispering and chattering. His calloused hand reaching up, dragging along the blood that was dripping from Tommy’s neck. Dripping down and burning away in the flames consuming the roots that held him.
The same hand that had fed him and given him shelter, as involuntary as it had been, was gently placed at the back of his skull. Techno’s thumb pulling across the golden earring that now felt like an anchor dragging him below the surface of a pool of magma.
Wearing Techno’s face, the Blood God grinned at him.
Tommy did not regret punching him.
***
Td;lr: Tommy unwillingly takes refuge into the hold of a banished god.
Series
- Part 1 of God's acre
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I Didn't Volunteer For This by DevourerOfStoriesAndGarlic for MintTeaEnby, JavaHoney
Fandoms: Minecraft (Video Game), Subnautica (Video Game)
19 Mar 2023
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Summary
Tommy didn’t know if he was lucky or cursed. He survived the crash landing on this supposedly “safe” planet, but he’s too far away from the other survivors and their messages are coming through garbled. The only people close enough for him to get a clear message from ended in screams. At least he’s in the shallows.
This wasn’t the planned landing sight. All the other survivors were too far away and busy, y’know surviving, to help him. He was on his own. He would survive, he had his escape pod, base building tool, and a somewhat damaged PDA with information on this planet's wildlife.
Now if only the leviathans circling near where his shallows drop off into deeper ocean could stop singing like whales and fuck off that would be great.
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“Who the fuck are you?” Tommy blurted out, before he could think about what he was saying.
The man’s brown eyes went wide, before he burst out laughing. “Well, that’s not the greeting I expected but, uh, I’m Wilbur. Wilbur Soot.”
“You weren’t here yesterday.” He responded in an almost accusatory voice.
Wilbur chuckled, looking around nervously “I mean, that’s usually how people work? They’re not in the same place 24/7.”
Tommy suddenly realized how ridiculous his words were and backtracked. “No, I mean I’ve never seen you here before. This stand has always been empty.”
“Oh! Yeah that’s fair, I’m pretty new.” He laughed, “I bought this stand last week, but it took me forever to set it up.”
He nodded, still wondering about the keychain, the one with Wilbur’s picture in it he found the day before. “That makes sense. Welcome to the mall. Also, sorry about toppling your stand yesterday.”
Wilbur blinked “You did what?”
Or, Mall AU where Tommyinnit is homeless, hiding from foster care, and trying desperately to ignore both a stalker, a haunting, and his own crushing loneliness.
Illusions of safety are just that. Illusions
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