#to be so secretive because if it's not she dies and wilbur dies and her friends in 12 die and her family dies.

[faebriel]

ough *roblox damage noise* thinking about niki’s speeches at the green festival/doomsday but in the context of hunger games au

burr kai faebriel has caused me brainrot

THE BRAINROT SPREADS

i feel like before her games and during them niki is running on pure survival mode....she works better in communities but I think part of her would be so cautious in the arena because she knows only one of them can make it out of the arena and she has wilbur counting on her, it has to be her, and the idea of betraying her allies so violently turns her stomach a little too much to be making any inspiring speeches.

after, though.....

okay it's difficult. because she is so closely monitored by the capitol, there is very little she can do - they can go back to her district and find her friends, wilbur is still in their clutches, even she and jack are not really safe themselves. and also i think something that people kind of overlook with niki (myself included) is that like... during the manberg era in canon she despises schlatt, don't get me wrong, but in the early days she is scared of him. she reacts fearfully when she sees he's online and she tries to avoid him at all costs. she'll spit in his face when she actually has to speak with him, she puts on a brave face, but that doesn't mean she's not scared. (also i think this is kind of an overlooked part of her character because we all just remember her being a fucking badass whenever she does interact with him. she's not brave because she's an unfeeling girlboss, she's brave because she's scared and she feels alone and abandoned but she stands up for herself and for l'manberg anyway!!!)

ANYWAY my point is she's still scared when she leaves the area, especially as she starts her victory tour...... she has thousands of capitol eyes on her and it's uncomfortable and she doesn't like becoming a victor and a mentor. they don't have a great reputation in 12. after all, every victor in the capitol is another person who killed 12's children, and that's exactly how she's felt about all but one victor ever since she was old enough to be aware of the games. she knows that's how everyone else in every other district sees her, she knows the capitol is always watching her, and jack reminds her that there's no chance schlatt and his pals in government are happy with the mess she made of the arena, cracking open its fuel to spread the fire. (she wasn't thinking about that at the time, she was just thinking about surviving - but now she's painfully aware of the danger she's put herself and everyone she cares about in. it's uncomfortable to say the least.)

but then. i think bonding with the other victors empowers her. she starts to piece together that even if she feels extremely alone, there are people who feel the exact same way that she does. people who are a little cold to outsiders, but who can be worn down. it starts with people like puffy and sophie, and it spreads from there. not exactly loud speeches, but these brief flashes of empassioned conversation do get to happen, even if they're constrained to hushed whispers and dark closets. sometimes it's not even whispers at all. there are ways to communicate beyond her words, she's learning that now.

i think once district 13 comes in she'd be a real passionate orator. that's when she's the perfect balance of safe and furious to stand atop an upturned crate and start shouting her heart out. it just takes a long time for her to get there.

[acutemushroom]

My opinion on some Hatchetfield ships

The title says it all, these are my opinions on Hatchetfield ships that nobody asked for ! 😅 More seriously. I first want to make it clear that these are my personnel thoughts on them and that you are free to like those you like and think what you want on them. I also want to get out of the way the fact that I have a bias for canon ships. So yeah, I'm generally a bit less into the ships involving a character in a canon ship and another.

Now, to the ships !

PAULKINS (Paul Matthews x Emma Perkins)

The one, the only, the original, the OG, the Paulkins ! I quite like them. A boring but also brave office worker and his crabby barista with survival skills. They're cute together, how can I not like them ? Though, I admit I prefer them in angst fics and don't really read Paulkins fluff. Part of it is because I love to see the character I like suffer. But also because of how they got together in the first place. In an apocalypse, a dire situation filled with stress. Paul who was constantly protecting her and fighting a literal God's control to try to save her. Emma who we discover a softer side to because of her relationship with Paul. I think they work best in desperate situation than in pure fluff. But that's just me though.

PAULKOTHO (Paul Matthews x Pokotho)

They are my roman empire. I've already talked in length about them. I've wrote fics in which I explored my view on their relationship, even if they weren't the only focus. I have others staring them planned. I fucking adore them. A relentless, controlling, uncompromising God and his absolutely unwilling and resisting prophet. I love them more than is probably healthy.

ROASTED CHAI COFFEE (Paul Matthews x Ted Spankoffski)

I am mostly neutral about them. Not my cup of coffee, but I see their appeal. Though, I can see it happening in a context where they both know for the cosmic horrors ruling Hatchetfield, that there are Gods interested in them both. But without being under Pokey and Tinky's clutches either. They just have to deal and cope together with the knowledge of what happened to them in other timelines.

Paul Matthews x Bill Woodward

Not a ship I go out of my way to read, but one that I am quite fond off. I especially love the interpretation of it where Bill divorced when Alice was still young and Paul was there for him. A solid friendship that evolved into something more. It's a really cute ship and one I can definitely see happen in different timelines.

TIME BASTARDS (Ted Spankoffski x T'noy Karaxis)

"That's a ship ?" was my first reaction upon stumbling on them for the first them. But I definitely see it's appeal and it absolutely grew on me. That Tinky loves his Spankoffskis is not a secret. So, him taking human form in at least one timelines and reaching another level with Ted ? Yeah, that sounds about right.

Ted Spankoffski x Charlotte Sweetley

Again, not a ship I'll necessarily go out of my way to search for but that I am quite fond off. It's clear they care about each other. I love to see it in timelines where Charlotte leave Sam. She makes Ted less off a bastard. He makes her more confident in herself. That's how I see it.

LEXTAN (Lex Foster x Ethan Green)

Yes. They care so much for each other and it breaks my hurt that they'll never be able to go to California together. Ethan is Lex safe heaven and he cares so much for her. He also care so much for Hannah to the point of considering her like his kid. He put himself in danger, and once died, just to protect them. Lex left Hatchefield with Hannah in an attempt to protect him. I just want them to succeed, alright.

TOCKY/BARNSTON (Tom Houston x Becky Barns)

Highschool sweetheart that found each other again, good person wrong moment. They're cute. Again, not a ship I am particularly passionate about, but I do like stumbling upon them from time to time. After what they went through, it is nice to see them being in love with someone again.

Wilbur Cross/Uncle Wiley x Wiggog Y'rath

Another flavor of human and Eldricht abomination ship that I quite like a lot ! They have this big tsundere side to them, at least how I see it, but they're also the embodiment of "assholes in love". I do love a villain power couple.

LAUTSKI (Stephanie Lauter and Peter Spankoffski)

I love these two. She's protective of her nerd and he's so supportive of her. They were both ready to sacrifice themselves for the other and during The Summoning Pete was trying to shield her from a literal God. I love them.

Stephanie Lauter x Grace Chasity

I could swear I remember their ship name... Not one I shipped at first, but they are starting slowly starting to grow on me. I have no particular reasoning as to why, it's really just because of fanfics I've stumbled upon. I like this ship in angsty fic dealing with the aftermath of Nerdy Prudes Must Die (show). I don't know, I like hurt/confort and they provide hurt/confort.

JAGERTITTY (Max Jagerman x Grace Chasity)

That ship name will never fail to make me laugh... I am generally not really found of the whole jock x nice/nerd girl dynamic but they do strike a chord in my heart. Max is so whipped it's adorable. And he's making her reconsider her basically everything. I love them. I would love see them change the other for the better as much as I'd love see them kill people together. I'd read as much fluff as I'd read angst of them. A heavenly good match made in Hell. I love them.

MICHIE (Max Jagerman x Richie Lipschitz)

I will be burned on the public place for this, but I don't ship them. I am really not a fan of jock x nerd like said above and they don't have the same unhingedness that makes me like Jagertity. I don't hate Michie. I can see why the ship is so popular. It simply not for me. Sorry. Though, great respect to you all for making like, a third of the NPMD fics !

Peter Spankoffski x Richie Lipshitz

Two bros being in love. Didn't have the chance to stumble upon them on Ao3, mostly just some stuff here and there on Tumblr. But I do like them. After all, aren't the best romantic relationship also really great friendship?

THE NERDS or THE NERDY PRUDES ( Ruth, Richie and Pete or Ruth, Richie, Pete, Stephanie and Grace)

What I am going to say apply to both. Haven't really read or seen anything on them. But I absolutely love the idea !

[imagines-babes]

Header from Pinterest. Masterlist

Quackity

If you were dating _________

Prt 1, Prt 2, Prt 3

Headcanons (q!)

Prt 1

While We’re Young

After meeting y/n, I felt for them and they felt for me. Meeting them once again at a diner. I tried to take to her but they didn’t remember me one bit. (Movie: 51 dates)

Only (c!)

This has somethings to deal with las Nevadas lore. When c!quackity came back from seeing his ex-fiance. Ten seeing dreamxd saying the reader knows what's gonna happen next. To ether risk their life or to risk Charlie.

Curly Up & Die (c!dsmp)

Y/n always been there for him. But he would always give them a choice. After many decisions they have given up on each other. But they always go back to each other. (This lore is from c!Wilbur of the hitting on sixteen. And dash with other lore.)

Who is she? (c!dsmp)

He lost two people that day. Or so he thought.Dream revive y/n and Purpled tells you the reason you died is because of Quackity. So now it’s revenge.

Lovers

Only two hours till the wedding starts. Y/n starts to Remember everything before they said yes and smile at the memory

Lover Rock

Walking in his stream was something y/n would do. But now that he has been doing Spanish stream y/n wants to know how to speak Spanish.

Fall in Love with You. (c!qsmp)

After stealing from people around. Y/n decided to leave him a gift. But not putting their name only putting secret admire.

Perfectly Wrong (c!qsmp)

Many ups and down you two will always be back in the same bed together acting like a perfect couple.

Colorblind (q!Qsmp)

You are invited to Cellbit and Roier Wedding. I hope nothing bad happens or hope no one will be taken.

[issybettyx]

Sbi but it’s ‘The Good Place’, the netflix show (spoilers for the show ahead)

// mentions of death, mentions of torture

The premise: sbi have all died and have been carefully selected based on their attributes to torture eachother, but end up becoming family

Below is the crimeboys ones, i haven’t written emerald duo yet but eifheobdoe :D

-

Wilbur opens his eyes, and the first thing he sees are 5 words: “Welcome to The Good Place”. It’s a confusing sight, and he doesn’t exactly remember how he got there. The click of a door lock turns his head to the left, and he meets a pair of heterochomatic eyes, one green one red. A black and white mask covers the bottom half of his face, and he’s dressed in a fancy black suit.

“Wilbur Soot, come on in.” He says with a smile, and Wilbur smiles back, standing before making his way in.

~

Tommy opens his eyes. Alarm bells ring in his head the moment he reads the words. His brother warned him about this, explained his opinions on the afterlife.

He wasn’t sure how he’d died, but he remembered the day before, how they had a plan. Though he wasn’t entirely sure what it was, clearly it didn’t work, because Tommy was apparently (according to the accurately placed sign) in The Good Place.

And then this all knowing, god-like, freakishly tall man told him he had lived the best life.

But that couldn’t be true.

He’d lived his life on the edge, committed several crimes, and he even scratched his vinyl once. He wasn’t meant to be in heaven. Listen, he wasn’t a smart man, but he knew one thing and that was that somehow the god sat in front of him had made a mistake.

Would he say anything?

Hell no.

And then he met Wilbur, and something changed.

“Tommy, everyone in the universe has a soul mate,” The God (who named himself Ranboo?) said, walking up to a house and opening the door, letting Tommy walk in before him. “Some people have romantic ones, others friendly, but yours is something unlike the both.”

Tommy looked back at him, raising an eyebrow, refusing to speak incase he accidentally revealed he hated the red knitted blanket laid over the back of the sofa.

“Your soul mate is a brother-“

“Excuse me,” Tommy interrupted, holding up a finger to make Ranboo pause, “A brother?”

Maybe heaven wasn’t for Tommy. But when the door opened, and on the other side stood an also tall man, possibly 6’5, brown hair messed in front of his face with a guitar bag strapped to his back, Tommy wondered if keeping his misplacement a secret would be worth it to get to know this soulmate of his.

“This is Wilbur, your soulmate.” Ranboo introduced, waving his hand towards the man who looked Tommy up and down, a smile growing on his face.

Turned out, Wilbur had lived an amazing life.

He wrote books, wrote songs, helped people find the right path in life. The man held so much passion for things. And that was really all Tommy needed to let his secret out.

“So my Mum came to me right?” Wilbur was saying, leaning on the sofa as he fiddled with a ring on his finger, “And she asked if I could write her a-“

“Wilbur I don’t belong here.” Tommy cut him off, the man immediately pausing to look at him, eyebrows knitted carefully. His silence said enough. “I didn’t live a good life, I was horrible to everyone around me, I’m not meant to be in The Good Place.” Tommy tried, not attempting to swear as he’d tried before and it came up as a futile attempt. Wilbur continued to look at him with a confused face, a strange smile on his lips as he studied the seriousness on Tommy’s face.

“You’re lying.” He tried, moving his brown hair out of his face as he raised his chin, almost as if he was challenging him. But Tommy didn’t stand down.

“On my 14th birthday, my friend Tubbo and I created a nation, I had to steal my parents wallets to pay for it and ended up sending a kid to hospital in a horrible war.”

“A war?”

“It was moreso a friendly standoff with nerf guns, shot it into his eye he went blind.”

Wilbur blinked.

“Fudge this I’m telling Ranboo-“ Wilbur immediately stood up, but Tommy reached for his arm, grabbing his wrist and making the man turn, a stern look on his face, “What?”

“You fudging tell Ranboo and I’ll- I’ll-“

“You’ll what?”

Tommy thought for a moment, before grinning. Just the simple act told Wilbur he didn’t even want to imagine what plan was forming in the kid’s brain, taking a moment to pinch the bridge of his nose before sighing, shaking the kid off so he toppled to the floor.

“I’ll help you earn your place here, but if you fail you’ll be sent to heck or whatever it’s called in this place.” Wilbur mumbled, not seeming all too pleased with his comprise; but Tommy jumped at the chance of not being caught, agreeing to his brother’s terms.

Turns out, Wilbur and Tommy made a pretty good team. Ranboo wasn’t one bit pleased.

[flowerberry-dump]

Im writting a Crimson peak dreamnoblade au, wich goes a bit like this:

•Phil and Kirsten have 3 children, and after her death Philza stars neglecting them, reason why the oldest, Wilbur, stars taking care of his siblings every need

•that protectiveness becomes a bordeline unhealthy need to be near them, and when they try to separate them, Wilbur takes drastic meassures and they end up separated anyways

•years later they reunite, and life seems bright until a series of unfortunate (and quite murderous) deaths shakes everything again

•Wilbur clinges to the only thing he has left from his life, his brother Technoblade, desperate to not be left alone also by him

It got long so the rest is under read more

•When their family house starts badly falling appart and their inherited money becomes sparce, they start looking for ways to get more money. Techno tries to sell the idea of one of their associates, working with the clay mines on their terrain. It does not work out very well

•At a party, Wilbur meets Quackity, a young and promising american aristocrat, and he comes up with the idea to marry him for money. So, when Q has to go back, Wilbur and Techno travel too so Wil can try and woo Quackity.

•At arrival, they encounter that Quackity is actually engaged to Sapnap and Karl, but Wilbur is in desperate need so he keeps trying.

•Meanwhile, Techno tries to sell the work idea he had and for that he meets with important bussiness people, and in one of those reunions he meets the son of Captain puffy, Dream, a bright aspiring writter

•They realize they have a lot of things in common, and more often than not, when Wilbur is trying to spend time with Quackity, Techno goes to reunite with Dream. They go out and they just enjoy each other's company, and Techno even reads the novel Dream is working on

•After seeing them interact, Wilbur questions Techno on the nature of their relationship, and makes his brother promise he will never fall in love and leave him alone, telling him its only the two of them, and no one will truly understand them less love them with all the secrets they keep together. Techno, unconvinced, promised Wilbur that he will not leave him alone, more than anything to keep his brother's thinning sanity.

•After his attempts are unsucessful, Wilbur realized their best bet to get the money is actually Dream's relationship with his brother, so he convinces Techno they both should get married and move back to their family house.

•Dream says yes, but Puffy doesnt trust the brothers, so she seeks out to someone that can investigate their past, and after doing so, threatens to reveal the whole true of the deaths in their family if they dont go away and never come back.

•Shortly after, the threat never gets completed because Captain Puffy is murdered.

•After some time, Dream and Techno decide to get married, and they travel to the Minecraft's family house to start fixing it so they can love there. With Wilbur, of course.

•Dream starts noticing weird things happening around the house, and on top of that he starts suddently getting sick. He starts looking for answers, and finds about how many deaths actually happened there, and under what conditions those people died

[rainydaystudios]

DSMP HEADCANONS BC IM MAKING A ONESHOT BOOK RLLY SOON!

Every version of Wilbur all loved making friendship/charm bracelets but Alive and Revivebur kept it a secret. Ghostbur openly revealed to everyone else that Alivebur did it and he does it too and everyone got shocked. They all know that Rev probably makes them too but it’s one collective secret they have.

In Ranboo’s memory book, if you read it you can see how the hand writing gets progressively worse.

Tubbo speaks fluent sign because of the festival he got blow up with fireworks and is now 2/3 of DEAF.

Techno loves painting. Like, a lot. A lot a lot.

Techno can speak Latin, Spanish AND Dutch. He doesn’t talk about or speak those languages because he doesn’t wanna look like a nerd. Except when he’s with Phil though.

Glatt probably cam back through Ghostbur at one point just to say LGBTQ rights because people called him transphobic when he was president.

Schlatt would eat paper when he was president, this was a problem because he kept eating important documents.

Bad, Skeppy, Puffy, Karl, Tubbo and Sam all have a betting pool on literally anything and everything on the DSMP, even if they aren’t getting along in that moment they all show up every Friday for bet night. Sometimes others join too.

Revivebur has secret tattoos. (Specifically butterfly on his neck, the words ‘this was a dare’ on his forearm, the autistic symbol on his ankle and the LManburg flag somewhere on his back.)

Tubbo used to love fireworks, but now he can’t watch them because of the festival.

In prison, Dream had an imaginary friend before Techno came because he go lonely.

Adding onto the Revivebur tattoo thing, both Rev and Alive know/knew how to give stick N poke tattoos and once Rev was, well, revived he got his hands on a tattoo gun.

When Alive died Tommy developed a drug addiction (I’m actually pretty sure this is canon too.)

George made a flower crown for XD and he loved it so much he never took it off.

Sam probably smells like gunpowder.

Schlatt was really fascinated by space, but never told anyone.

This is just a bit of a personal one, Schlatt wasn’t abusive to Quackity. More short tempered than anything.

Every version of Wilbur owns a lot of candles.

On top of the last one, Schlatt isn’t a pyromaniac to say, but really likes fire. One time Schlatt, Tubbo, Fundy and Quackity had a bonfire and Schlatt zoned out so hard just staring at the fire.

Techno loved Michael.

I’m just going to list it out bc I thought this bit deserved its own section:

[DSMP STIM HEADCANONS

Alivebur would pick at things like his own skin, his hair or basically anything he touched.

Techno plays with his hair a lot and he repeats little noises over and over, specifically behp.

Phil would shake a lot, not nervously but just because.

Tommy would get really bouncy, like bumping his legs up and down and jumping in place.

Dream would crack his neck a lot and pop his jaw.

George would constantly adjust his glasses and bite the sides of his fingers.

Sapnap would flick a lighter, even if he didn’t have one he’d just pretend like he did.

Bad would do the flappy hands at things he got excited at.

Quackity would pull it his hoodie strings or sleeves.

Schlatt would mess around with his non canonical rings that we all collectively agree he wears and would make goat noises, but only when he would be alone or with the cabinet. He would also always whistle.

Niki would hit her wrists together or just tap her hands on whatever she’s around. ]

DSMP STIM HEADCANONS OVER

[NOW ONLY SCHLATT HEADCANONS FOR A BIT BC I CAN

Schlatt could only wear zip up hoodies or button ups because anything else would get caught on his horns.

Schlatt would show up drunk to speeches and most times you could tell

He always smells like alcohol or cigarette smoke

He can dance really good. I will fight who ever disagrees with this one it’s my favorite.

Since he’s a ram, he can do anything rams do. Like eat paper from a previous one, but also look down and still see whats going on infront of him.

ok Schlatt section is done]

Karl loves flowers. Don’t ask why, it just fits.

Techno pierces ears really good. Because of this fact, he has a bunch of piercing, mostly on his ears but in other places too.

When Alive died and became Ghostbur, Tommy started selling drugs to honor his dead brother.

(My Wattpad is Rainy Day Studios so in case you wanna stick around for the upcoming oneshot book go follow)

[peninkwrites]

Lines Drawn in Sand & Concrete - Ch 6 of ?

Niki feels like she's in a tea kettle. Wilbur is alive out of reluctant obligation.

[CW: description of injuries, dead bodies, discussion of suicidal thoughts.]

crossposted to ao3

Ch 1

Ch 5

Ch 7

Mafia AU

~ Niki & Wilbur ~

Niki doesn’t like the way things are heading.  She would have thought after Schlatt’s death there would be some peace, instead, she has new reasons to worry.  It’s like she can measure the health of the city by the attendance at the Secret City. She rarely sees any of the Badlanders, Puffy only on rare occasion, and always busy and absentminded.  Even more worrying to her, Tommy and Tubbo don’t come to the Secret City very much anymore, and never together.  Ranboo, already quiet, has gotten quieter.

Niki’s business worries have at least declined.  In Schlatt’s absence, her profits have nearly doubled, or rather, she’s kept the other half of her income she’d been making before.  She doesn’t have to reorder alcohol from Puffy as often, which is another good thing considering Puffy seems to be dealing with her own troubles at present.  In theory, Niki should be doing better than ever.  She’s not.

The bloodiest parts of this mess are probably what should scare her the most, but she isn’t sure.  Bodies are turning up in the streets, and since Tubbo has apparently taken on the mantle of controlling the streets, she’d expected the violence to die down, but it hasn’t.  The Badlanders are more aggressive, territorial and secretive, and Tubbo’s lot––she doesn’t really know what to call them, they’re certainly not Schlatt’s dogs anymore––are too bold, bold in the way a cat puffs up to scare away a bigger animal.  Attendance at the speakeasy has died down in part due to that.  People are nervous to go out at night, because if it’s not the gangs getting into petty scuffles around the block, it’s other dead.  Someone is attacking people deemed undesirable.  Niki’s speakeasy caters to no one but the undesirable.  She doesn’t know what worries her more, the dead bodies, often times faces she recognizes as local common criminals, and those she doesn’t recognize, she can guess also share similar records, or the ones who aren’t murdered. 

It seems there is one person behind this threat, or maybe a group sharing the same mask.  People will ask to spend the night at the Secret City, skittish and bruised.  They’re not hardened criminals––largely because it seems this person doesn’t like to let hardened criminals live––the people that come to her for help, injured but alive, they’re the homeless, they’re fences who work on the street, people like Karl doing something harmless like selling stolen watches, and whoever is out there, lurking like a ghost, thinks that warrants bloody retribution?  This is wrong.  All of it, whatever is happening out there, she feels like she’s trapped in the bottom of a kettle, waiting for the pressure to build and finally boil over.  She’s considered on more than one occasion moving the bakery, finding property deep in Puffy’s territory, Puffy had offered her help more than once, but she can’t bring herself to do it.  This is where she’s always been, it’s where people know to go, and changing that now, it feels unfair.  She won’t abandon any of them.  Tubbo still keeps her bakery safe, actually safe, not in any manner like Schlatt’s so-called protection, and he does so perhaps viciously, but at least for now, there’s no reason for her to move.  Not really.

Trouble does not keep itself neatly contained in the streets away from her and her family, nor is it always something so blunt as violence.  Her little brother doesn’t talk to her.  He doesn’t go out with Tommy and Tubbo.  He just works.  Niki will tell him he doesn’t have to, that she’s fine on her own and he can go see friends, but Ranboo just shrugs and says “they’re busy.  I’d rather just hang out with you right now.”  Niki isn’t used to Ranboo not telling her things, nor Tubbo and Tommy.  She prefers when they had stumbled home after getting into trouble and immediately babbled a confession at her, like her knowing was important somehow, like she could always make things right.  It doesn’t feel that long ago.  Where Tubbo had learned he could tell her when something had gone wrong and there wouldn’t be harsh consequences, where Tommy trusted her enough to not act like a guarded, hunted dog, all bark and no bite, and instead had talked to her like her help wasn’t a threat.  And Ranboo, who did things for himself and not for her for once in his life; he’d run around with his friends and had come home late sometimes and had finally had something to actually apologize to her for. 

Niki doesn’t know why that has slipped away.  Tubbo had acted oddly, cutting off Quackity and arguing in her speakeasy––Niki cannot remember Tubbo ever raising his voice like that, let alone in front of an audience––and he never looks open to conversation when he does still turn up, he just sits quietly in the corner with Jack, the two of them talking in hushed tones and Niki knows they stop talking whenever she walks too close.  It hurts, and worse than hurt, it’s wrong.  Her boys don’t sneak around her unless it’s for shoplifting from a sweet shop or trying to smuggle an injured squirrel into Ranboo’s bedroom.

The nights Tommy still turns up––rarely on the nights Tubbo is there, and never together, and if someone is there, whoever was there first will find some excuse to leave, which is profoundly wrong––if Tommy is there it’s usually to heckle Wilbur.  Tommy seems unchanged, he’s still loud and a bit rude and always ready for a good joke, but Niki knows him better.  There’s the more surface-level changes, he’s a bit scruffier than usual, and there’s this strange duality of him being more quick to refuse her offers of help and more inclined to ask for it.  She’ll ask if he wants to spend the night and he jumps to say no, but that same day he’ll ask her if she has anything leftover from the bakery that she needs to toss.  Always with a joking tone, like he’s just a teenager with a sweet tooth, but Niki knows it’s different now.  She buries the urge to ask him, “are you not eating enough?” because she knows doing so will make Tommy not accept anything. 

There are deeper changes too, ones she has to look more carefully for.  Tommy comes to the Secret City alone.  He will still talk with Ranboo, he’ll talk with her, and oddly enough he’d talk quite a bit with Wilbur, but in the pauses in between his usual rough banter, when he’s stopped taunting Wilbur, he looks tense.  He looks tense like he did before he realized the speakeasy was for people like him.  Tommy views strangers as threats or targets or often both.  He moves through the world like a prey animal and a scavenger, but Niki hasn’t seen that tension cross her doorstep in a long time.  He looks tired too.  Maybe as tired as Tubbo does.

She can’t read Ranboo anymore.  She thinks he might know more about what’s going on than she does, but she’s not sure.  She’s never not sure.  When she asks, Ranboo is always neutral and avoidant in reply, and it’s hard to decide if he looks more worried when she asks about them or if that’s just the persisting, quiet anxiety he’s worn for weeks now.

Niki is good at not prying, to a point.  She’s been perhaps too lenient with Wilbur, who had turned up so mysteriously.  She’d done the basics, told him he should look for a job, that he can’t live on their couch forever, but that doesn’t tell her much.  Wilbur had once been her best friend.  That was a long time ago.  Still, between the two of them, Niki finds it easier to dig a little more at a man she hasn’t seen in years than at her little brother about his friends who might be her little brothers too.

“Morning, Wil,” Niki says.  It’s Monday.  The Bakery closes on Mondays, it gives them time to rest from the weekend rush.  Hence, this is one of the few times she’s still in the apartment when Wilbur stirs.

Wilbur sits up blearily from the couch, curls askew.  “Morning…” He rubs his eyes.

“How are you so tired?” Niki asks.  “You don’t have a job, what is it you stay up late to do?”

Wilbur smiles halfheartedly.  “Find trouble.”  He adds more insistently, “and play for your speakeasy sometimes.”

“Could you work on finding a job before you find trouble?” She teases.  “And play at my speakeasy.  I need you there to keep me company, but maybe a proper job too.”

Wilbur wakes up a bit more in his embarrassment, sheepish.  “Er, yeah.  Probably should do that.”

“Yeah,” Niki says pointedly.

Wilbur gets up, pulling on the same wrinkled white button up he wore yesterday over his undershirt.  “You… didn’t happen to make enough coffee I could have some, perchance?”

She rolls her eyes at him and nods to the pot.

“Ah, you’re a saint,” he mumbles.

There is a brief calm, Wilbur getting himself a cup, and Niki content to lean against the counter and drink hers, thinking.  Wilbur is freshly awake.  He is not a morning person.  Niki knows he is weak and however much he’ll loathe it, it’s the perfect time to push.

“So, we haven’t had much time to talk, Wil.  Feels like you’re always running around doing something, or I’m running around doing something.”

“Oh?” Wilbur says mildly.  “Yeah, yeah guess so,” he sips coffee.

“How’s home?”

Wilbur seems to almost choke, quickly lowering his mug.  “Home?”

“You know, where you came from?  Where you’ve been living?  For the past eight years?” Niki raises her eyebrows at him.

Wilbur almost winces.  “That, uh.  That didn’t really feel like home.”

Niki laughs.  “Okay, you’re very dramatic, do you know that?”  She’s unfazed, continuing on.  She knows some, she knows quite a bit, actually.  Niki can be quiet, but she listens.  There’s something wrong with Phil and Wilbur, and while that’s not new, maybe she’d imagined he’d have grown out of it when he grew up into a proper adult.  “How’s Phil?  How’s…”  She tries to remember other things she’s learned from their brief conversations over the last months and her even briefer amount of contact with Phil over the last eight years.  “How’s your… step-mom?  Do you get along okay?”

“Kristin?” Wilbur seems surprised, as if he hadn’t imagined she was an option for a subject of conversation.  “She’s great. Like, professionally she sort of scares me, but she’s really fun and she makes my dad happy, so.”  He shrugs.  “Can’t hold her choice in business against her, really.”

Niki notes he had skipped over her question about Phil.  “She’s great, but she sort of scares you?  Professionally?”

“She’s, you know,” Wilbur sets down his mug and waves his hands mysteriously, “the Lady Death of Salt Lake City.”

“Oh.”  Niki had not heard that name before, but then again, she already knows more than she wants to about the criminals that can touch her life, let alone keeping up with the ones that don’t.  “So. When you said Phil is more working in the background..?”

“Working for her,” Wilbur nods.  “He’s got a new––well, not really new now––reputation. Angel of Death,” Wilbur says mildly like his father has done something as simple as getting a promotion at the bank.

Niki nods, processing this.  That reputation truly isn’t new to her.  She can’t imagine Wilbur hadn’t heard it before, but Wilbur seems to be under the impression the title came from Kristin.  Phil had chosen the Crowfather as his title, but the City comes up with their own names for their Gods.  It was here that label started.  Phil was a complex man.  He could be, and often had been, ruthless.  He had rules, though.  If he kills someone who still has family to leave behind, he pays for the funeral.  The payments are anonymous, but connections were made regardless.  Phil would murder someone and then lay them to rest, sometimes to the horror of and other times to the relief of their families.  Phil was an Angel of Death long before he found a Death to follow.  Niki continues carefully, nudging the subject.  “Bit of a change from the Crowfather.”

“Not really,” Wilbur says gloomily, and Niki thinks perhaps he did know that title.  “Same business.”  That blasé addition makes her reconsider.  It seems Wilbur is just as unsettled by his father’s work as before.  Niki doesn’t blame him for it.  Of course, she has a bit of a soft spot for Phil.  He’d been good to her and Ranboo.  She’s not so picky as to scorn that even if he’s done things she cannot consider as anything but awful.

Niki continues quickly, before her own line of thinking strays any more grim.  “And is Techno still around?”

“Yeah, as long as Phil is.”

“Yeah, I thought so,” she smiles.  “How is he, then?  Well, how do you think he is?”

Wilbur shrugs.  “They’re the same, Niki.  Alright?  I don’t have anything to tell you, because they’re the same as they always were,” he says coldly.  “You don’t need to bother asking anymore.”

“Wil, I’m asking because I care about them.  You’re really going to be weird about it?” Niki says almost gently, because she knows that way will get Wilbur to actually care.

He wilts.  “Sorry, I’m sorry, Niki,” he presses against his forehead, eyes closed as if warding off a headache.  “You’re right, that was… that was a bit dick-ish of me.”

“Yep.  It was a bit dick-ish,” she laughs.  “I know I’ve said it before, but I’ve missed you, Wil.”

Wilbur, as always, looks surprised.  “Yeah?  What’d you do that for?” He teases.

That gets another laugh out of her and Wilbur looks so proud of himself.  Niki doesn’t know what help this will bring, but knowing a shred more about what’s going on with Wilbur at least feels like progress of some sort.  It doesn’t touch the bigger issues haunting her life or her business, but she wants to know her best friend again, she wants him to be her best friend again.  One day.

“I do have a request for you today, Wilbur.”

Wilbur shifts, sitting up straighter.  “Oh?”

“When you’re out… finding trouble, could you also find a few job applications?  For me?”

Wilbur nods, slouching in his shame.  “I will.  I can for sure do that, Niki.”

“Okay.  I’m going to hold you to that, Wil,” she says warningly, because she knows him, and even with the best of intentions, she knows he’s just as likely to turn up with zero job applications and some grand story about what happened that day instead.

“It was… it was good talking, Niki.  Really,” Wilbur is eager to get out of this conversation.  “Um, I’m gonna… I’m gonna get a start on my day, yeah?”  He smiles awkwardly and side steps past her out of the kitchen.

She smiles.  It’s a little fun to make Wilbur nervous, and quite warranted considering his slacking on his side of their friendship.  “Bye, Wil.”

“Bye!”  The front door shuts, and Niki is once more alone.  She’d let Ranboo sleep in.  She doesn’t have especially high hopes for Wilbur, but somehow he still seems like the problem she has the best understanding of and therefore the best chance of fixing.  Niki sighs, regretting her own line of thought.  She shouldn’t have to fix any of them.

~

Wilbur had told Niki while wandering today he’d grab a few job applications.  Thus far he had not done so.  Wilbur had never had an actual job in his fucking life, and he wasn’t enthused by the thought of starting now.  He hadn’t planned on sticking around long enough to have to pay rent, but here he’s remained.  Thus far he’s just wandered the streets as per usual.  He’d deny it if asked, but right now he’s waiting for Tommy to come barreling into him.  That kid always manages to find him in this city, it’s almost impressive, if not also a bit concerning.  Thus far, the kid hasn’t showed.  Wilbur doesn’t know why that makes him nervous.  Last he saw him, Tommy had complained about the new management at the hotel giving him grief, bad enough his hands were all bloody.  It doesn’t bode well.

Wilbur also wants to go back down into the subway tunnels.  It’s not a logical draw, more it feels like a morbid compulsion, l’appel du vide and all that.  He knows there’s nothing down there for him, except maybe rats and tetanus, but nonetheless.  He’s not scared, but also he sort of doesn’t want to go without Tommy, for no reason in particular.

It’s like Wilbur summons him into being.

“Hello, you stupid swiss cheese of a man!” Tommy appears beside him, making him jump.  “Thrown yourself at any more local mob patrols lately?”

Wilbur has one hand over his racing heart.  “No.  Haven’t found the time,” he says irritably.  “The fuck d’you mean swiss cheese?”

“Oh, ‘cause you were almost full of bullet holes.”  Tommy makes finger guns.

“Right, of course,” Wilbur scoffs. “Where did you even come from?”

“The shadows,” Tommy says with a dramatic whisper.  “Actually, if you don’t mind I’d like it if you joined me in the shadows,” he’s staring at something over Wilbur’s shoulder.

“What?  Why?”

“‘Cause that man––the one across the street obviously looking for me––I currently have his wallet,” Tommy nods at an irritable man wandering in a suit and ducks back into an alley, Wilbur finding himself quick to follow.

“So, still hard at work, I see?” Wilbur says dryly.

“More so than you, I see,” Tommy says mockingly.  “Not an especially productive day, though.  I’m… I’m not tired, but I’m a bit bored of the daily grind, so!” Tommy nods like that settles the matter, excusing some weariness that Wilbur hadn’t even noticed.  Wilbur had noticed that Tommy clearly has some hangups about being seen as weak, so he doesn’t question it.

“Yeah, yeah fair enough.  I told Niki I’d pick up some job applications,” Wilbur says gloomily.

“Ha!  Have fun with that!  Chaining yourself to the Machine, huh?”  Tommy tuts him.  “Poor thing.”

Wilbur glances at Tommy’s hands, which are currently perusing his stolen wallet.  He can see cloth stained a rusted red.  “How’re your… battle wounds, then?”  He nods to them.

Tommy snaps the wallet shut, burying his hands in his pockets.  “Fine, thank you very much.  I heal like, super fast.”

“Really?  Looks like you could use some actual bandages.”

“These are basically the same thing,” Tommy pouts.  “But…” he glances at his hands in his pockets.  “If you’re buying?”

Wilbur is not as broke as he was previously, as he’s gotten at least some tips playing at the Secret City.  He gives some of it to Niki, a feeble approximation of rent, but it’s still something.  It’s definitely not much.  Not enough he should be blowing it on getting some gauze and anti-infectant for some random kid.  Wilbur sighs.

“Come on.  There’s a drugstore around the corner.”

“I know there is.  This is my city.”

“It’s mine too!  I’ve lived here longer than you have.”

“Yeah, but it’s changed since you were here, old man,” Tommy nods wisely.  He stops outside the drugstore.  “I’ll wait here.  I’ve definitely nicked shit from here before and they won’t want to see me.”

“Haven’t you nicked shit from everywhere?”

“Yeah, but here I got caught.”

“Touché,” Wilbur smiles, amused before entering the shop.  He grabs gauze and neomycin before heading up to the counter.  “A pack of Marlboros too.”

The man behind the counter nods, grabbing a pack.  Wilbur glances at the register and what it rings up to.  He stares doubtfully at his own wallet, hesitating over his lineup.  He grabs the neomycin, intending on putting it back, but as he turns he sees movement out of the corner of his eye and glances over to see Tommy pressing against the glass and making faces at him.  Wilbur buries a laugh.

“Actually, scrap the Marlboros.  This is it for me,” he puts the antibiotic back on the counter, only processing his own choice after the fact.  It unsettles him. This wasn’t supposed to happen.

Nonetheless, he returns to the street.  “Here,” he shoves the gauze and neosporin into his hands.

“Thanks, man!” Tommy sits down right there on the window ledge and begins peeling the scraps of sheets off his cut up hands.

“Wait, you’re not gonna wash them first?” Wilbur reaches out to stop him.

Tommy looks amused, glancing around the street.  “You see a bath anywhere?  Trust me, the river will do way more harm than good.”

“No, that’s not what I–” Wilbur sighs.  “Come on,” he nods toward the store.

Tommy shakes his head.  “No, it’s like I said, they won’t want me in there–”

“Who gives a shit?  I’ll go with you, we’ll go to the bathroom, and I’ll help you dress them,” Wilbur says more insistently.  He’s more surprised when Tommy doesn’t continue to protest, just stands to follow.  Tommy looks surprised as well.

Tommy very deliberately stays behind Wilbur, whistling and scanning the shelves in the most conspicuous way possible, until Wilbur drags him into a vaguely horrifying bathroom.

“Honestly, this feels worse than the street,” Tommy crinkles his nose.

Wilbur gives him a look.  “Wash your hands.”

Tommy rolls his eyes but obliges, wincing all the while.  Wilbur stares disapprovingly at the crusted blood and cracked scabbing of the cut across either hand.  Tommy’s hands are also filthy.  Wilbur is also trying to bottle every screaming warning about infection; he knows Tommy isn’t exactly in a place to take good care of himself.

“This fuckin’ sucks,” Tommy mutters.  “Do you have any idea how hard it is to pick pockets in these conditions?”

“It’s not like I did that, why’re you complaining to me?”

“Because you’re here.”

Wilbur rolls his eyes.  “Fine.”  He shoves a wad of paper towels at him.  “Dry them.”

“I know how to dress a wound, dickhead!  Just ‘cause I’m not rich enough to buy all this fancy shit doesn’t mean I don’t know how to dress a wound,” Tommy snaps.  “And I don’t need your help!” He says when Wilbur reaches toward him.

“Your hands are hurt!  You need hands to dress a wound!  Come on, man, stop being a little bitch and just let me,” Wilbur snaps back.

“Fine!  Fine, go for it!  If you want to play doctor, fine!” Tommy rolls his eyes, muttering, half under his breath, “call me a little bitch… from the king of little bitches…”

Wilbur ruefully does so, pasting antibiotic cream onto the cuts, Tommy flinching and pulling away as it burns.

“Ow!  Careful!” Tommy whines.

“It’s so it doesn’t get infected!” Wilbur snaps.

Tommy grumbles wordlessly before trailing off grumpily.

It’s quiet for a time, for once Tommy without anything snarky to say.  Wilbur gets nervous when the silence continues by the time he starts wrapping one hand in gauze.  He glances up, but Tommy is just watching him work with a solemn frown, wary and unsure, like he’s expecting Wilbur to do some harm.  Wilbur deigns not to think on that too hard, instead he refocuses, finishing wrapping Tommy’s other hand.

“Oooh, look at me, I’m Wilbur I can wrap cuts like an expert, I’m so smart,” Tommy says in a high voice, staring at his wrapped hands with clear satisfaction.

“Is that supposed to be a thank you?” Wilbur says dryly.  “Take this, okay?  Just… Don’t let your hands get so grubby,” Wilbur shoves the rest of the roll of gauze and antibiotics into his hands.

“Right, I got a choice in that, do I?” Tommy scoffs.

“Come on.  This place is fucking rank,” Wilbur heads back out the door.

“My hands still hurt.”

“Tough luck.”  They return outside, Wilbur rummaging in his pockets.  “Actually, I’ve got something else for you.  You still got that torch on you?”

“What?  Yeah, why?” Tommy asks suspiciously.

Wilbur offers Tommy two batteries.  He’d been holding onto them for a few days now, having scrounged them from Niki and Ranboo’s junk drawer.  “Fancy another trip into the tunnels?”

“Oh, I knew there was a catch!  What, you think ‘cause you buy a guy a bandage that he has to follow you around and obey your every whim?!” Tommy scowls, genuinely reproachful.

“What?  No!  No, that’s not why I got you a fucking bandage, are you joking?  If you don’t wanna go, I don’t care, I just thought…” Wilbur doesn’t know what he just thought.  “I dunno.  Might be another adventure.”

“I don’t need more adventure.  I’m fuckin’ made of adventure.  I’ve got oodles of adventure.”

“Okay, then don’t come,” Wilbur shrugs, still walking in the general direction of the maintenance entrance they had fled through before.

Tommy keeps pace.  “Wait, wait but that doesn’t mean I want you to go alone!  You’ll get eaten by rats, remember?”

Wilbur laughs.  “I knew you’d want to come.”

“You knew I’d what?  You knew I’d fucking want to what?”

“Shut up!” Wilbur cackles.  “You’re the most annoying fucking child!”

“And you want me to follow you into some fuckin’ dark-ass tunnels?  Hm?  You’re fucking bonkers.  I’m not about to get serialed by a man talking about come–”

“Get what?  Get cerealed?”

“Yeah!  Yeah, serialed!  As in serial fuckin’ murdered!” Tommy snaps.  He does stop in the alleyway, staring at the old maintenance door they had fled through last time.

“Wait, wait go back, you would get serial murdered?  Doesn’t that imply plural?  How the fuck would you get murdered multiple times?” Wilbur scoffs.

“You don’t know me.  You don’t know my murder history,” Tommy says aloofly.  Tommy puts the batteries in his torch, glancing up at the door on occasion like it might bite him.  “No, no but really, why the fuck do you want to go down there again?”

“Aren’t you curious?  That banging noise, look, it was probably just like… pipes settling or old machinery, but I bet we could… we could find other sneaky entrances over the city or something!” Wilbur says.

Tommy looks unenthused, but nonetheless, he’s put batteries in his torch and looks grimly prepared.  “Fine, fine I will go with you, but after this you’re buying me food, got it?”

“That… that sounds like worse bribery than me just getting you some gauze, what the fuck?” Wilbur gives him look.  “What, am I like, dangling cheese on a string down there for you?”

“Now you’ve just made it weird,” Tommy glowers at him before opening the door.  “Surprised no one else has gone down here if it’s that easy.”

“Um, that lock looks like it’s not busted and normal people obey big danger signs,” Wilbur points out as he enters the stairwell.

“Ah, psh.  Cowards!” Tommy scoffs, striding into the dark behind him before flicking on his torch.  “Oh, this is loads better!  I can actually see shit.”

“Don’t shine it in my eyes!” Wilbur hisses, batting his torch away.

“Don’t put your eyes by my torch!”

Wilbur gives him a look.

“Fine, fine, sorry,” Tommy says reluctantly.  “So, mole-man, what are we doing in the tunnels today?”

“I am…” Wilbur hesitates.  “I’m looking for this one platform.  It’s… for nostalgia reasons.”

“You’re nostalgic for a grubby ass train platform?” Tommy raises an eyebrow, striding ahead along the tracks.  They’ve been out of operation for years, but both of them keep off the actual rails.

“Yeah,” Wilbur tries to think of a reason he can give.  “Just…”

He’s saved from replying by Tommy shouting into the dark.  “HELLO?!”

Echoing back, “HELLO?!”

“HI, TOMMY!” Tommy shouts.

“HI, TOMMY!”

Tommy looks over at Wilbur, grinning.  “This tunnel is very polite.”

“Is it?  Are you and the tunnel making friends?” Wilbur says sarcastically, but he can’t resist a smile.

“SHUT UP, WILBUR!” Tommy shouts.

“SHUT UP, WILBUR!”

“See, we’re in agreement.”

“I’m not the one shouting, why do I need to shut up?”

“You were giving me sass, mister.  Tunnel and I don’t like that disrespect,” Tommy tuts him haughtily.

“And stop going ahead!  You don’t know where we’re going,” Wilbur quickens his pace to catch up.

“Oh, like you do?  Last I checked, you didn’t wander from platform to platform this way back in the olden days,” Tommy points out.

“Yeah, but I still know the direction–” Wilbur goes quiet.  There’s another noise, and it is not an echo.  It’s that same sound of metal banging together they had heard the last time.  It sounds about as close as it had the last time, that is, concerningly close.  Wilbur looks over at Tommy, to find him already staring back with wide, nervous eyes.  They listen.  There is silence for a time, the echo of the banging noise fading off, but then it resumes rapidly, three sharp bangs that echo off.  It stops for a moment, then three more, slow, measured.  Wilbur is quickly starting to doubt is “old machinery” theory from last time.

“It’s down that way, right?” Tommy whispers in the next pause, pointing down the tunnel.  He jumps when there are once more three sharp bangs.

“M-Maybe?” Wilbur says.  “The echo– I’m not sure which way.”

“I think it’s that one,” Tommy nods ahead.

Neither of them move.  The banging has yet to resume.  Knowing the direction doesn’t dictate what they do now.  Neither of them really want to see what it is, or more probable, who it is.  Tommy looks forward, shining his torch straight ahead.  The tunnel goes straight longer than the light reaches, so it shows only more blackness.

“What kind of nutcase goes banging around tunnels?” Tommy mutters.

“I mean, us kinds of nutcases,” Wilbur points out, but still he doesn’t move down the tunnel.  It’s Wilbur’s turn to jump when the banging returns without warning, three sharp clangs of metal, and a pause.

“I wanna check it out,” Tommy says, but he already looks like he regret the thought.

Wilbur waits for the next three slow bangs to fade out to reply.  “Okay.  Okay, fine, but the moment we see anything weird, we bail, alright?”

Three sharp bangs.

“Yeah, alright,” Tommy nods and seems to muster some bravery.  He starts off down the tunnel first, stopping often to look back and make sure Wilbur is close behind him, even as he can see Wilbur’s torch shining ahead alongside his.

The banging continues on like clockwork.  Three sharp knocks, whoever is responsible seems to take a break, and then continues slowly, before trying rapid knocks again.  Always in sets of three.  Wilbur feels like he’s missing something; he’s already deeply uneasy, and then his torch glances off of a shape splayed out across the tracks.  Wilbur fumbles forward, reaching out to stop Tommy, his torch refocusing on it.  It’s definitely a body.  He has a feeling they’re not merely unconscious.  Wilbur can’t see their face, they’re laid out on their stomach, head turned the other way, so all he can see is what looks like a red cloth tied around a head of short, dark hair.  There’s definitely blood, covering the arm visible to them.

Tommy spots what his torch is shining on, and to Wilbur’s shock, starts running forward.

“Oh fuck, no, nononononono, hold on a fucking second, it can’t– no, oh my fucking god, no fucking way, it can’t be, it can’t be– f-fuck–” Tommy babbles frantically, voice high and hoarse, words almost overlapping.  Wilbur lunges forward to stop him when he runs toward the strange corpse in the dark, but Tommy is too quick.  Tommy falls to his knees by the body, and before Wilbur can warn him of the hundred reasons why it’s a bad idea, Tommy touches it, rolling it over onto its side.  Tommy falls back, face buried in his hands, and it takes a moment for Wilbur to process that he’s relieved.

“Fuck… fuck, it’s not him… it’s not him…” Tommy’s knees are tucked up into his chest, rocking slightly, sounding breathless.

“Tommy?” Wilbur says cautiously.  “Are you… are you okay?”  He asks a rather stupid question, but he doesn’t know what else to do.

Tommy sniffs loudly, wiping his nose on his sleeve, and Wilbur pretends he can’t see Tommy’s cheeks are shiny and damp in the torchlight.  Tommy stares at the corpse again, without any apparent squeamishness at the sight, he still pores over it, like he’s trying to make sure.  “It’s not him,” Tommy croaks, reassuring himself more than informing Wilbur of anything.  Wilbur dares to stare at the body’s face.  The corpse it seems had been blindfolded by a strip of red cloth, but Wilbur can still see the lower half of his face, it’s a man with a patchy beard, a narrow, crooked nose, he seems to be just a few years older than Wilbur.

“Not who?” Wilbur asks gently.

Tommy blinks, and seems to come back to himself in some way, clambering to his feet.  “Nothing,” he’s still staring at the corpse.  “Thought it was… no one.  Just, one of my mates.  An old friend.  I don’t… I don’t see him as much anymore, and he’s… he gets dragged into some shit.  Doesn’t stay out of it like I do, and I always warned him, I always told him…” Tommy trails off, moving on.  “And wears a fuckin’ red headband, and from behind, it…” Tommy nods to the blindfold, trailing off again, his thoughts disconnected.  “A-And the blood on his arm, thought maybe it was… Just from behind and a ways back, not… not the face at all, just…” Tommy shakes his head.  “It’s… it’s not him,” he repeats.

Wilbur still feels almost sick with nerves.  This exchange had happened over the course of a lull in the banging, Wilbur isn’t sure if this pause has lasted longer than the last, but he’s not sure he wants to wait around for it to continue.  “We should go, Tommy.”

“What-?” Tommy glances up at him.  “Yeah,” Tommy takes one step back the direction they had come before pausing.  “What about the… the noise?” Tommy looks both ways, as if inviting it to continue.

“Tommy, that man, he didn’t die from natural causes,” Wilbur says softly.  “And if whoever did that to him is prowling around down here…” Wilbur hesitates.  He doesn’t want to scare the kid.  “I mean, the noise hasn’t gotten any closer.  We’ve gotten closer to it.  Like…” Wilbur looks back toward the stairwell he knows is somewhere in the dark behind them.  “Like they’re trying to draw us deeper in.”  Wilbur looks back at Tommy and sees he’s certainly failed to not scare the kid.

“We… we can’t tell anyone.  We can’t tell anyone about this, about the…” Tommy doesn’t even look at the corpse now, but Wilbur understands.  “Can’t go to the cops, least I can’t.  We… we can’t explain how we were down here a-and–”

“I know, Tommy.  We should go.”  Wilbur doesn’t know why he does it, he doesn’t think, he just does, but he offers Tommy his hand.  Wilbur almost doesn’t realize he’s done it until Tommy accepts.

Tommy’s expression doesn’t indicate confusion on his side of things, but he still seems sort of hazy, so Wilbur just starts walking, guiding them back to the street.  They emerge just as the surviving streetlights kick on, but it’s still far preferable to the dark underground.

“Right, I think… I think we should get out of here,” Wilbur starts walking.  “Don’t… don’t get all defensive if I offer, but d’you want me to walk you back to the hotel?”

“Nah, I’m… I’m good,” Tommy shrugs.

“Don’t do that, man, just… let me do it, alright?  It’ll make me feel better–”

“Not everything is about you, ay?” Tommy scoffs.  “I’m not going to the hotel no more.”

“Are you still having a hard time getting inside?  I thought you figured out a way around the… the stuff,” Wilbur stops when he realizes Tommy isn’t following, instead scuffing his feet and leaning against the wall of the alley.

“No, not just that…” Tommy trails off gloomily.  “The nutter that replaced Jack, y’know the one that put razors on the windows?  Now he’s checking the empty rooms with a fucking golf club.  Thought he was gonna crack my fuckin’ ‘ead open…”

Wilbur steps closer to Tommy, immediately finding himself bottling rage and horror in equal measure.  “He came at you with a golf club?!”

Tommy steps back on impulse, scowling.  “No, he asked if I wanted to go a round and I told him I only did crazy golf- yes he swung at me, dumbass…”

“Holy shit, Tommy, you– Don’t tell me you’re going back there!  I mean, where are you gonna go?”  Wilbur doesn’t know why he feels panicked.

“Obviously not!  That’s what I just said.   I’ll…” Tommy’s feeble excuse of saying he’ll find somewhere else to crash dies with a shiver.  After the night they’ve had, he’s a little more vulnerable.  “Can I… Can I walk to Niki’s with you?  And… And I’ll figure something out on the way there.”

“Yeah, something like sleeping there.”

Tommy frowns, but he doesn’t say no this time.

~

Niki wants to talk to Ranboo.  She doesn’t know what to do with herself on her days off anymore.  Puffy doesn’t have time to go boxing with her anymore, and Eret is busy with the museum and some fancy new investments she’s made so she rarely has time to come over for their usual chats, and if Eret is busy HBomb is busy too, Karl even seems to be busy nowadays.  Ranboo is in the same boat, not that Niki really understands why.  Even if Tubbo has something going on, Tommy is always available.  Niki also has a feeling that Ranboo knows she wants to talk to him, because he’s been finding excuses to go back to his room, before realizing there’s nothing to do in there, coming back out, realizing his sister clearly having some sort of emotion towards him, and finds an excuse again.

“Aren’t you going to help me with dinner?” Niki asks as Ranboo is halfway down the hall back to his room.  He turns on his heels, looking a shred less anxious than someone walking to the gallows and nods.

“Yep!”

“Okay,” Niki can’t help but be amused.  Even if she were actually mad at Ranboo, which isn’t the word she would use for whatever she’s feeling at present, Ranboo is well past the age where she could attempt to ground him, at this point what he’s dreading is her saying she’s disappointed in him.  Which, to be fair, tends to be viewed as a death sentence by all three of them, Ranboo and Tommy and Tubbo.

Ranboo hums to fill the quiet, glancing at her often, and to her surprise, he speaks up first, methodically chopping vegetables so he doesn’t have to look over at her.  “You doin’ okay?”

“What?” She looks over at him, thrown off.  “Yeah.  I think so.  Are you?”

Ranboo doesn’t seem to believe her.  “Yeah!”

Niki doesn’t really believe him either.  Quiet for a bit, neither quite sure of how to proceed.

“How’s Tubbo?  And Tommy?”

“Huh?  Oh, I think…” He falters, "I think okay.”

“Have you not seen them much?”  She already knows the answer.  She asks anyway.

“No,” he sounds amused.  “I mean, I’ve been with you.  When would I have seen them?  I mean, you haven’t seen your friends much.”

“Well, they’re busy with criminal things,” Niki says teasingly.

“Yeah, well, mine too.” Ranboo says, his humor sharper, bitter.

“But even before, you all made time for each other, didn’t you?  Do you know why Tubbo hasn’t come to the Secret City with Tommy at all?  It doesn’t seem like them.”

“I don’t know everything they do, Niki,” Ranboo snaps.

“Ranboo,” Niki can’t help the hint of hurt in her voice.

“Sorry,” he mutters.

“It’s… it’s fine,” she sighs.  “You don’t talk to me anymore, Ranboo.  I just… I just want to know what’s happening.”

“Maybe I just don’t have much to say,” Ranboo shrugs.

“Are you… are you guys not friends anymore?”

“No,” Ranboo says quickly.  His face scrunches up, and he doesn’t even look upset really, more so worried.  “Do we have to talk about this right now?”

“When else are we going to?!” Niki snaps.  “Sorry.  I’m sorry, Ranboo, I’m just… I don’t want you to lose them.”

“You say that like I have a choice.”

“You always have a choice!” Niki grows emphatic.

“Really?” Ranboo is defensive.  “Did you have a choice when you lost Wilbur?”

Icy silence.  Niki is taken aback, a lump in her throat, because it wasn’t just harsh or startling, coming from Ranboo, saying that to her, it’s almost cruel.  Worse when he continues.

“He left you, Niki, and now you’re… you’re letting him live here…”

“You agreed!”

“I thought it was gonna be for a couple days!  Not a couple months!”

“He left everyone, Ranboo. He didn’t just leave me.”

“I don’t care about everyone!  I care about you.  And he hurt you!  And– And it’s like you’re not even mad at him!” Ranboo’s voice breaks slightly, choked up rage that isn’t just meant for Wilbur.

“It sounds like you are.”

“Because you should be,” he says accusingly.  “A-And it’s not fair that he stopped talking to you, he just… he just moved on.  He didn’t… he didn’t think about it.  Like he didn’t even care.”

“Ranboo…” Niki reaches out to him, he pulls away.  “You know it’s okay if you’re hurting right now, right?”

“This isn’t about me. Not right now, okay?  I know I– I know–” Ranboo cuts himself off, frustrated by his own emotions.  “Let’s– Let’s just pick one, and right now I… I wanna talk about Wilbur, and–”

The front door of their apartment opens.  Wilbur and Tommy enter, and immediately read the tension of whatever they have just interrupted.

“Uh.  Ayup?” Tommy gives the two of them a nod.  “Well, I’ve got you home safe, Wilbur, I ought to be going–” he turns back to the door and Wilbur grabs his sleeve.

“Tommy needs somewhere to stay.”

“Do not–”

“The new hotel manager came at him with a golf club.”

“He what?!” Ranboo is snapped out of his own brooding.

“And I kicked his ass and left!  It’s not a problem,” Tommy whines.

“Yeah, but you can’t go back, and you shouldn’t be just sleeping outside, Tommy,” Wilbur says pointedly.

“I’ve done it before!”

“No,” Niki says sharply.  Tommy stares at her, startled.  “Tommy that is in no way safe.  Not right now, okay?  You’re staying here.”

Tommy quickly realizes he no longer has a choice.  “Right… fine, but just for tonight, alright?”

Niki turns to Wilbur, just as piercing.  “Did you get any job applications?”

If Wilbur could sink into the floor, he would.  “W-Well, I… I meant to, it’s just… some things came up…”

“What?  What things?”

“Sorry, sorry, nothing, it was… it was stupid of me.  Never mind,” Wilbur winces, knowing how useless his excuses are.

Ranboo gives Niki a weighted glance that Wilbur is at a loss to understand, and Niki is resolutely ignoring it.

“Tommy, I’m sorry, but if you’re staying here, you’ve got to take a shower,” Niki nods Tommy down the hall.

“Okay, rude, not my fault that I haven’t been able to use the hotel showers in a… in a little while…” he grumbles, following her.

For a dangerous, brief amount of time, Wilbur and Ranboo are alone.

“What came up?” Ranboo asks.

Wilbur notes the hint of ice in his tone and hesitates.  “It was… it was a cheap excuse, I… I got distracted with Tommy.  That’s all.  No good reason.”

“So… so why’d you say you did?” Ranboo says quietly.

“I don’t… I don’t know.  Felt bad about it, really,” Wilbur shrugs.

“Right,” Ranboo is cool and unfeeling.  “Niki and I were making dinner.  Do you think you could help?”

Wilbur knows it’s not a request.

“Right, right, let me… let me wash my hands,” Wilbur nods, going to the sink.  “What’re you making?”

“Um, baked rutabaga and parmesan chicken?”

“Rutabaga…” Wilbur laughs fondly.  “Right.”

Silence until Niki returns.

“Thanks, Wil,” Niki says, reentering the kitchen.

“Sure!  Sure, it’s the… it’s the least I can do.”

“Yep,” Ranboo agrees quietly.

Niki gives him a warning look, before proceeding as if she hadn’t heard him.  “Ranboo, Tommy is going to borrow some of your clothes.”

“Fine with me,” Ranboo says.

Wilbur looks between the two of them, eyes wide.  He focuses on his assigned task.  A terse half hour passes before Tommy returns, hair still dripping wet, dampening the collar of one of Ranboo’s shirts.  Tommy’s had to roll up the pant legs of his jeans substantially.

Wilbur laughs.  “You look like a wet dog.”

“Do I?” Tommy strides over to him and shakes his head so water flies everywhere, largely into Wilbur’s face.

“Tommy!  Come on, man, not… not in the kitchen,” Ranboo says helplessly.

“Sorry,” Tommy rolls his eyes, before catching sight of Niki and offering with more sincerity, “sorry!”

“Ranboo, can you get your desk chair?  We need one more.”

“Yeah, sure.”

Their tiny dining table is typically only used for two, a third chair is there for a guest, but it’s rare for them to have more than that company in the apartment.  It’s far easier to host in the speakeasy.  Niki has dragged the table out from the wall so a chair can be put on the fourth side.  Wilbur helps set the table and Tommy gathers drinks and despite the lingering tension, it feels almost cozy.  The four of them have settled in, Tommy eating with a disconcerting amount of enthusiasm, but no one at the table has the heart to scold him for it.  Once Tommy has cleared a plate and gone back for seconds, he begins to peer around the table.

“Brrr. Bit chilly in here, eh?  What’s got you all up in a huff?”  Tommy is quite good and prodding the one issue everyone else is still avoiding.

Wilbur doesn’t feel like he knows what’s going on, so he doesn’t speak, Ranboo loathes the thought of being the one to speak up first, especially about confrontation, and Niki neither wants to lie to Tommy nor get into things.  Tommy waits.

“Well I think whatever has gotten you lot in a mood, you should do some soul searching, reevaluate your pri-or-i-tees,” he enunciates every syllable around a mouthful of rutabaga.  “Like, Ranboo, handsome lad like you, what on earth could be troubling that brain of yours?  You’re a baker, you’re a looker, you’re all… like, sensitive and shit, you’re a catch!  Niki, if you’ve got problems, you should just… y’know, kick their asses like you always do.  In what fuckin’ world does Niki Nihachu feel troubled by something she can’t wreck shop over?  You’ve got a badass speakeasy and everything!  You don’t fear no pigs, the state should fear you!”  Tommy nods once like that settles the matter, before refocusing on his plate.  The tension doesn’t break, but it does crack a little.

“No grand input for me?” Wilbur says dryly.

“Nah, I know why you’ve got troubles, and it’s your own fault,” Tommy shrugs.

Ranboo laughs.

“Hey!” Wilbur says, indignant.

“You gonna tell me I’m wrong?  Hm?” Tommy gives him a look.

“Yeah, are you, Wil?” Niki smiles.  “I mean, you couldn’t pick up one job application?”

Wilbur is flushing red.  “Look, maybe I… I’m not thrilled at the thought of scrounging together some shitty nine-to-five with a dickhead boss…”

“How do you know what job shit is like?  You’ve never worked a day in your fuckin’ life,” Tommy jeers.

“Have you had a job before, Tommy?” Wilbur says pointedly.

“More than you.”

“I’d say both of you don’t know anything about having a real job,” Ranboo points out.

“And I’d say you don’t know much about having shitty nine-to-five and a dickhead boss,” Niki adds.  “You got lucky too, Ranboo.”

“I mean, maybe I do–”

Niki gasps, dramatically acting offended, throwing her napkin at him.

“Hey!  Hey, I’m kidding,” Ranboo hunches down which does very little to make himself a smaller target.

“I dunno, Ranbus, she’s a tough egg to crack, y’know?  She runs a tight ship.  She hasn’t put up with any nonsense as long as I’ve known her.  She’s been immovable since she was twelve, probably longer,” Wilbur teases.  Niki rolls her eyes at him, poorly masking a laugh.  Wilbur glances back over at Ranboo, startled to find Ranboo staring at him, eyebrows slightly raised, mouth open slightly like he’s unsure of how to say something, to describe whatever unreadable expression he’s currently stabbing into Wilbur’s chest.  “What?” Wilbur shifts uncomfortably.

“You haven’t called me that since I was little.”

“Well, I– I haven’t been here a lot, have I?” Wilbur stammers.

“Yeah.  Guess not.”

Tommy snorts.  “Ranbus?  That’s fucking adorable, aw, little Ranbus!”

“No, nuh uh, you’re not starting with that,” Ranboo breaks his gaze, turning sharply to Tommy.  “Not allowed!  Not for you!”  He says it like he’s trying to get a dog to drop a sock.  “I’d prefer when you call me Ranboob to you calling me that.”

Tommy grins, “aw, good to hear it, Ranboob!  I shall only respect your proper title.”

Ranboo sighs head in his hands as realizes what he’s done.  “Oh no…”

Tommy continues his teasing, and Wilbur plays along, but he’s wrapped up in deeper thoughts right now, so many old aches and pains mingling with new ones, and he doesn’t know where to put it all down.

Dinner finishes in better spirits than it had started, Tommy offering to help clean up after with the same heroics of a soldier offering to dive on a grenade, but nonetheless, he does it.

“Right, then, good night, lads– and Niki,” Tommy settles in on the floor with ease, stealing a pillow from the couch.

“Tommy, you take the couch, man. I’ve had it for ages, I should shake things up and sleep on the floor for a change,” Wilbur offers.

“What’ve you got against floors?  I got nothin’ against ‘em!  Me and floors are old friends!” Is Tommy’s attempt at a defense.

“Mhm, Tommy, where did you sleep last night?” Niki asks pointedly before she goes to her own room.

“On a bench over on 30th until one of the pigs woke me up, why?”

Niki and Wilbur exchange a look.  “Take the couch, Tommy.”

“Tommy can stay with me in my room for the night!” Ranboo says perhaps too excitedly.

Tommy raises an eyebrow at him.  “Look, Ranboob, I did admit, you’re a handsome lad, but me?  I’m shy, I’m not ready for this step in our relationship–”

“Tommy,” Ranboo cuts him off exasperatedly.  “Come on, it’ll be like when we’d have sleepovers and stuff!  It’ll be fun,” Ranboo claps and points to his bedroom door.  “Come on!  Let’s go!”

“What, are we gonna braid each other’s hair and talk about girls?” Tommy rolls his eyes but clambers off the ground to follow.

“I mean, you can talk about girls.  I don’t think I will.”

Niki smiles, fond and relieved.  Ranboo had missed having company.  None of them are acknowledging the hole, the absence once occupied for so many years by Tubbo.  He should be here.  

Even as Tommy is grateful to have a bed, as he’s missed Ranboo’s company just as Ranboo had missed his, he’s trying really hard not to get weak right now.  He refuses to cry over something as ridiculous as the idea of his best friend––his former best friend?––not being in the place he is meant to.  Tubbo has changed.  Tommy knows this, Tommy knows he should be able to let go, because that’s not his best friend anymore, in more ways than one.  At the same time, Tommy knows if Tubbo showed up right now, no matter the state, no matter the blood on his hands, Tommy would only be able to hug him, to bring him back into the fold and say “Where have you been, Bee Boy?  You’re late.  And you missed dinner.”

Instead, he just follows Ranboo, and even as neither of them say it, he can read Ranboo’s silence for the same thought.  They miss him.

~

Wilbur has a difficult time falling asleep.  He’s perturbed by troubling thoughts, thoughts he hadn’t been prepared for.  It’s a peculiar list that’s been growing.  Only looking at today, not even the past months, and it’s enough to make his head spin.  He’d forgone cigarettes to get that scrappy kid some medicine he probably won’t even use.  And when Tommy had run to the body, he hadn’t felt scared like that in a long time.  Probably in as long a time since he called Ranboo Ranbus.

“Fuck…” Wilbur mutters into the dark.  He rolls over and almost screams.  Niki is currently making her way silently across the living room, he sits up sharply.  “Niki?”

“Sh!” She presses a finger to his lips.  She motions for him to follow.  “Come on the roof with me,” she whispers.  In her other hand, she has a bottle.

“The roof-? Right, fine,” Wilbur clambers to his feet.

“Take that blanket too.”

He does so, following her to door in the back of the kitchen, within it is a pantry, and on the opposite wall, a ladder.  He does not ask questions.

Niki unlocks a trapdoor, wincing when it creaks loudly, but as far as they can tell the boys haven’t been woken.

The roof isn’t quiet.  It’s well past midnight, but there’s the wind through the buildings and cars still making their way across the city.  Niki shuts the hatch behind him, gesturing to the roof.

“Put the blanket down.  Over here so we can look out,” she nods to the front of the building.  At this angle to the street, Wilbur can see all the way to the river, to the distant lights of the bridge.  They can’t see a single star in the sky here, but there’s something beautiful about it anyway.

Niki sits on the blanket, patting the spot beside her.  She rips the cork out of the bottle with her teeth, spitting it over the edge of the roof.  She spots Wilbur’s expression out of the corner of her eye and giggles.

“I run a speakeasy, Wilbur,” she says by way of explanation.

“I don’t think most bartenders are comfortable ripping a cork out with their teeth.”

Niki shrugs.  “How would I know?  I can’t exactly meet up with other bartenders in a prohibition state.”  She takes a swig, wincing.

“Touché,” Wilbur sits beside her.  “What’re we drinking tonight?”

“Um,” she takes another swig.  “Gin.”

“Gin?”

She nods.  “It’s popular.  I thought we might as well,” she offers him the bottle.

“Might as well…” Wilbur mutters.  He takes a drink, shuddering.  “That’s… that’s some strong gin, shit.”

“Feels…” Niki mulls it over, “appropriate?”

“What’s the occasion?” Wilbur smiles, still puzzled, but also oddly delighted.  He’s missed this.

“Um, not really an occasion, more like… a goal,” she takes back the bottle, takes a swig, and passes it back, nodding at him.  He obliges and takes another drink.

“Goal?”

“To get you, Wilbur Soot, drunk enough to… to spill your guts to me.”

Wilbur had been halfway through another swig when he chokes.  “Pardon?”

Niki smiles, all mischief.  “To be fair, I am drinking too.”

“Feels like I’ve been brought here under false pretenses.”

“What pretenses?” She laughs.

“Fine.  I dunno,” Wilbur smiles, offering her the bottle.  “Okay, if we’re… if we’re spilling guts, lets do it tit-for-tat, quid pro quo.”

She nods, “wie du mir, so ich dir.”

“Wie du mir, so ich dir,” Wilbur attempts to copy her pronunciation and he can’t tell from her smile if he succeeded or failed.  “So,” Wilbur asks the first thing that comes into his head.  “Is Ranboo… is he mad at me?  He seems… well, about as pissed off as Ranboo can be, if I’m honest.”

Niki nods, like it’s an easy truth.

“He is?”

“Yeah, it’s ‘cause he knows you leaving hurt me.”

“Oh,” Wilbur feels like a weight has just pressed down harder on his shoulders.

Niki nods amicably.  “And now you’re back.  And he thinks you have a lot to prove.”

“Yeah.  I… I think I do,” Wilbur takes another swig.

“Do you have anything to do with the…” Niki gestures vaguely to the streets below.

“The what?” He’s puzzled out of his melancholy.

“The changes.  A lot of little things.  I don’t know,” she shrugs.  “It all sort of started when you turned up, and, sorry, Wil, you…” she almost looks pitying.  “You break things.  Sometimes.”

Wilbur nods, staring out at the patchy trail of streetlights, some lit, some not.  “I break things,” he agrees softly.

“Sometimes,” Niki reminds him pointedly.

He laughs, half under his breath, “sometimes.”

“There’s something wrong, Wil.  Schlatt is dead, and I thought…” Niki frowns.  “I don’t know what I thought.  When I first found out, I was mostly worried about Tubbo, but then I… I thought it was gonna fix things.”

Wilbur once more thinks of his father, and it’s hard to resist the bitterness curdling in his stomach.  “It was bad, then?”  Quiet.  He glances over at Niki, who is looking with the same thoughtfulness out at the city.  Wilbur continues, “Schlatt, I mean.”

She glances at him, clearly measuring up how little he knows.  “It’s like I said, Wil.  You’ve been gone a long time.”

“I have,” Wilbur says like it’s an apology.  It isn’t an apology.

“Drink more.  You’re bigger than me, you need to catch up,” she presses the bottle into his hands.  He obliges.

“I didn’t want to, you know.  To leave you, to leave the city,” Wilbur knows it’s a feeble defense, but it’s all he can think to say.

She still look like she knows something, something she isn’t saying, not directly at least.  “Didn’t you?”

“I…” Wilbur feels very vulnerable.  He can’t imagine Niki knowing, knowing the whole of it, but it’s clear she understands him in a lot of ways.  Which makes sense.  Niki had once been his best friend.  “I don’t know,” is what he settles on.  It’s a safe answer, maybe too safe.

Niki sighs, sitting up, legs folded beneath her.  Wilbur offers her the bottle once more and she pushes it back.  “You first, then me.”

He takes a drink.  She follows.

“You all left, you and Phil and Techno, and… and Phil leaving was hard.  He… he sent money until I asked him to stop.  He called until I… I got too busy to pick up,” she shrugs.  “I don’t know,” she echoes his sentiment, staring down at the roof.  “Techno said goodbye.  A… a pretty good goodbye, I think.  And I was… I was mostly okay for a while.  Schlatt… Schlatt didn’t get involved until I was eighteen.  That’s when I opened the Secret City, ‘cause before I was worried if I got caught while underage it would fall back on Eret’s family, so…”

Wilbur knows it’s far from important, but on impulse he asks her, almost defensive, like a childish teen rivalry has resurfaced.  “Eret?”

“Yeah.  Her family helped look after us.  You… you can’t own a business at sixteen, Wil,” Niki says wryly.  “I mean, we were on our own, really.  Me and Ranboo.  They didn’t really interfere, it just made sure no one was like, trying to take Ranboo away from me or anything like that.”

“Oh,” Wilbur feels almost embarrassed now.  “I… I understand.  Got it.”  He takes another drink.

“You said you were coming back, Wil,” Niki says softly.

“I meant to,” he says hoarsely.  He means it.

“Okay, but when you weren’t anymore, when you didn’t,” she looks over at him, eyes too shiny.  “Why didn’t you call?  Why didn’t you… why didn’t you write?  Why didn’t you say anything to me?”

Wilbur feels like that look in her eyes, grief and broken trust and wounds still unhealed, like it might burn him up from the inside.  He can’t bring himself to look away.

“I don’t have any good answers for you.”

“Give me a bad one, then.”

"Fuck, I'm just a mess," Wilbur wipes his eyes.

"Yeah, you are," she says teasingly.  "Give me an answer."

Wilbur swallows thickly, a lump forming in his throat, finally tearing his gaze from hers to stare at the way the bottle in his hand gleams in the streetlight.  “It was supposed to be a clean break.”  He gives the wrong excuse, but it’s the only one he has.

Niki feels an ache in her chest grow sharp.  She had expected a bad answer, but that one stings, especially when she knows what festers underneath.  “Clean…” she scoffs.  A pause, Wilbur with nothing to say in his own defense, and Niki thinking.  “I was... I was okay on my own.  Really.  Schlatt wasn't a problem until I opened the Secret City and... and when he first started showing up and taking money and... and then alcohol, I didn't... I didn't know what he was gonna do to us.  I'd never... Phil kept us away from that stuff, you know?  I... I made sure they didn't know about Ranboo," Niki nods once, as if reassuring herself, proud and certain she did right by him.  "They wouldn't fucking touch him, I made sure.  I couldn't stop them from knowing he worked there, but... they didn't know he was my family.  So, that was... a bit safer?  I think?  And... I hate this," she says vehemently.  "I hate that this is the truth, but when I stopped fighting, it got easier.  I gave them the money, my supplies, whatever they asked for.  I only fought back when... when I thought it would actually sink us, and before I got brave enough to do that I had to ask Eret for help sometimes and I hated doing that, because I knew I shouldn't have had to.  Once I gave up, his men stopped coming and threatening to break things, and instead it was just Tubbo.  It felt... it felt easier that way.  I gave up so much of what we earned, and that just became normal," she says that word like it's something vulgar.  "But I did it.  I did it.  I kept everyone safe, everyone.  I looked after them all.  Homeless kids, and Schlatt's kid, and Schlatt's boyfriend, and Schlatt's boyfriend's boyfriend, and Schlatt's doctor, and... and Badlanders and ex-Badlanders, and ex-Empire kids, because... because they were gone.  You were gone.  The Empire left us, and I wasn't gonna let that hurt us.  No way.  Maybe I didn't have Phil's authority or Techno's reputation or... or anything like that.  But I kept them all safe.  All of them," she looks at Wilbur, and he is almost in awe of the fire burning behind her eyes.  Wilbur feels so sure that if Niki wanted to burn this city down, she could and she'd probably have the right to.  The fire drains out of her, and once more she looks so tired.  "The earlier years were the hardest.  The ones where I missed you the most, Wil."  Niki takes a shaky breath.  She looks away.  "When I say Schlatt was bad, I don’t say it because I think you could’ve fixed things.  Maybe if Phil had stuck around, he could’ve made it better, but that’s different.  That’s not you.”  A pause.  Wilbur almost feels like he can’t breathe.  Niki continues, “even with the bad parts of it, really I just wanted you to be there, Wil.  You were– you were supposed to be there,” Niki says it with the certainty of a girl who had been eighteen, and alone, and scared, and trying to defend herself from threats so much bigger than her, and waiting for her brother to get taken away, and all the while wishing she could cry on her best friend’s shoulder.

“I am… I am so sorry, Niki.  I don’t expect forgiveness, I don’t, I just need you to know how sorry I am.”  A strange apology for someone utterly certain his father had dragged him out of this city kicking and screaming, but maybe he’s not talking about that kind of leaving.  Maybe Niki knows that.

Niki does not forgive him.  “I believe you, Wil.”  That counts for something too.

Wilbur has felt something building in his chest for weeks, discontent forever rising as his plans never turn out quite right and he has been unable to do the one thing he came to this city for.  A lot has changed in the past months.  His discontent finally spills over.

“I came here, I came back to the city two months ago,” Wilbur stops, taking a deep breath to stop his lip from trembling.  He quickly wipes his cheek.  He doesn’t look at her.  “I came back here to kill myself.”

Niki doesn’t say a word.  She doesn’t know what she could say, but she isn't really surprised.  She takes his hand.

“N-Not here, here.  I wasn’t… I wasn’t gonna do it in your house,” Wilbur continues to spill over, a rambling defense for something he knows cannot be defended.  “I was… I had a plan, it was… it wasn’t supposed to take this long, but I had to– It had to be– Someone else has to do it,” he says forcefully.  “I wanted it to be Schlatt.  Or Schlatt’s dogs, whatever.  If not him, any gunfire would do.  I tried prodding the Badlands, I tried going down the wrong streets and… and spraying stupid graffiti on claimed territory, and none of it worked.  Closest I got was that stupid fucking car bomb, and all it did was almost kill Tommy…”

Now Niki can think of a reply, not to the matter on the whole, but to this piece of it.  “Why?”  Wilbur glances at her, burden evident at the thought of answering that sort of question, Niki corrects.  “Why… why did it have to be someone else, I mean.”

Wilbur laughs bitterly.  “It was supposed to be for Phil?  I thought… I thought it might be nice for it to mean something, so, I thought if I got myself killed in the crossfire of some petty street violence, maybe…” Wilbur trails off, as if by voicing it aloud he’d realized the childishness of his plots.  “Maybe it would make him want to change.  To do better.  Something like that,” he sighs.

“For Phil,” Niki repeats, processing.

“Yeah,” Wilbur says wearily.

“Don’t… don’t take this the wrong way, Wilbur, but… but once all that didn’t work, why didn’t you… you know, try something else?” Niki asks carefully.

Wilbur had forgotten how direct Niki could be.  “Um, well, lots of… of little reasons, I guess.”

“Little reasons?”

Wilbur huffs, almost annoyed with the idea.  “It was… it was that stupid fucking kid, alright?  It was Tommy.”

Niki smiles, almost amused.  “Tommy?”

“Not… not for lovely sentimental reasons, not at first at least, but he just… he kept showing up.  Every day, I’d be wandering around, debating between the river and a highrise, and there he’d fucking be!  Calling me a layabout and following me and hounding me until I’d decide it was worth trying a few more schemes to see if I could get myself killed that way, and even then!  Even then, he’d find a way to get in the way.  Like, I tried to get out in front of a Badlands patrol, when they were first starting to get all nervous, and this kid latches onto me like a furious fucking koala, and he won’t let me out of the alleyway without him, so I gave up that time.  And shit like that just kept happening,” Wilbur sighs, shaking his head, almost amazed.  “He just… by accident, he just kept me out of it.”

“That sounds like Tommy.”

Wilbur laughs dryly.  “Does it?”  Wilbur broods, once more returning to the thoughts that had been circling his sleepless brain earlier.  “And he’s… he needs help, right?  He obviously needs help, and needs it worse than any of us first thought, apparently, and I…” Wilbur sighs.  “And I can’t.  Okay?”

“You… you don’t think you can help him?  Wil, no one would expect that of you.”

“No, not that, and it’s not a matter of expectation, it’s–” Wilbur runs a hand through his hair, tugging at his curls as he feels like Niki and all her love for him is digging a confession out of his chest, but he wants this, he wants to tell her, because he loves her too.  “I can’t kill myself.  Not until… not until he’s better.  ‘Cause I… I almost forgot about Ranbus.”

“You… what do you mean you almost forgot Ranboo?” Now Niki is properly confused.

“Not Ranboo– Ranbus.  I… I said it so effortlessly, I didn’t even think about it, but before tonight, I almost forgot what I called that kid, that I… I was something to him,” Wilbur sighs.

“You still are something to him.”

Wilbur smiles weakly, grateful for her kindness even if he doesn’t think he deserves it.  “Maybe.  I… you’re good to him, Niki.  You were still a kid yourself, and you took care of him.  He’s lucky, and I think he knows how lucky he is, to have you for a big sister, and…” Wilbur trails off, words coming together slowly.  “And Tommy’s not lucky.  In more than one way, because he had no one, and instead of someone like you, Niki, he gets stuck with me instead,” Wilbur laughs.  “So, I can’t kill myself.  Because he needs… he needs someone.  That’s all.”

Niki scoots closer, resting her head on his shoulder.  “I’m sorry, Wilbur.  For… for a lot of things you’ve had to go through, but I’m really glad you’re here now.  And I’m really glad you’re not going anywhere.”

Wilbur takes a shaky breath, no longer trying to ward off tears or the tremor in his voice.  “Thanks, Niki.”

“Maybe Tommy isn’t as lucky as Ranboo, but he’s still lucky to have you.”

Wilbur nods.  “Thank you.  For a lot of things, but Niki,” Wilbur looks over at her, looking her in the eye for once without fear or guilt or shame.  “Thank you for being my best friend.”

Niki smiles, reaching out to mess up his hair.  “You’re welcome.  Thank you for… for trying to bring my best friend back.”

Wilbur understands.  “I’ll be him again.  I promise.”

Niki gets to her feet, unsteady and offering him a hand off the ground.  “I’ll hold you to that, Wilbur Soot.  Don’t think I won’t.”

Niki doesn’t like the way things are heading.  She would have thought after Schlatt’s death there would be some peace, instead, she has new reasons to worry.  It’s like she can measure the health of the city by the attendance at the Secret City. She rarely sees any of the Badlanders, Puffy only on rare occasion, and always busy and absentminded.  Even more worrying to her, Tommy and Tubbo don’t come to the Secret City very much anymore, and never together.  Ranboo, already quiet, has gotten quieter.

Niki’s business worries have at least declined.  In Schlatt’s absence, her profits have nearly doubled, or rather, she’s kept the other half of her income she’d been making before.  She doesn’t have to reorder alcohol from Puffy as often, which is another good thing considering Puffy seems to be dealing with her own troubles at present.  In theory, Niki should be doing better than ever.  She’s not.

The bloodiest parts of this mess are probably what should scare her the most, but she isn’t sure.  Bodies are turning up in the streets, and since Tubbo has apparently taken on the mantle of controlling the streets, she’d expected the violence to die down, but it hasn’t.  The Badlanders are more aggressive, territorial and secretive, and Tubbo’s lot––she doesn’t really know what to call them, they’re certainly not Schlatt’s dogs anymore––are too bold, bold in the way a cat puffs up to scare away a bigger animal.  Attendance at the speakeasy has died down in part due to that.  People are nervous to go out at night, because if it’s not the gangs getting into petty scuffles around the block, it’s other dead.  Someone is attacking people deemed undesirable.  Niki’s speakeasy caters to no one but the undesirable.  She doesn’t know what worries her more, the dead bodies, often times faces she recognizes as local common criminals, and those she doesn’t recognize, she can guess also share similar records, or the ones who aren’t murdered.  It seems there is one person behind this threat, or maybe a group sharing the same mask.  People will ask to spend the night at the Secret City, skittish and bruised.  They’re not hardened criminals––largely because it seems this person doesn’t like to let hardened criminals live––the people that come to her for help, injured but alive, they’re the homeless, they’re fences who work on the street, people like Karl doing something harmless like selling stolen watches, and whoever is out there, lurking like a ghost, thinks that warrants bloody retribution?  This is wrong.  All of it, whatever is happening out there, she feels like she’s trapped in the bottom of a kettle, waiting for the pressure to build and finally boil over.  She’s considered on more than one occasion moving the bakery, finding property deep in Puffy’s territory, Puffy had offered her help more than once, but she can’t bring herself to do it.  This is where she’s always been, it’s where people know to go, and changing that now, it feels unfair.  She won’t abandon any of them.  Tubbo still keeps her bakery safe, actually safe, not in any manner like Schlatt’s so-called protection, and he does so perhaps viciously, but at least for now, there’s no reason for her to move.  Not really.

Trouble does not keep itself neatly contained in the streets away from her and her family, nor is it always something so blunt as violence.  Her little brother doesn’t talk to her.  He doesn’t go out with Tommy and Tubbo.  He just works.  Niki will tell him he doesn’t have to, that she’s fine on her own and he can go see friends, but Ranboo just shrugs and says “they’re busy.  I’d rather just hang out with you right now.”  Niki isn’t used to Ranboo not telling her things, nor Tubbo and Tommy.  She prefers when they had stumbled home after getting into trouble and immediately babbled a confession at her, like her knowing was important somehow, like she could always make things right.  It doesn’t feel that long ago.  Where Tubbo had learned he could tell her when something had gone wrong and there wouldn’t be harsh consequences, where Tommy trusted her enough to not act like a guarded, hunted dog, all bark and no bite, and instead had talked to her like her help wasn’t a threat.  And Ranboo, who did things for himself and not for her for once in his life; he’d run around with his friends and had come home late sometimes and had finally had something to actually apologize to her for.  Niki doesn’t know why that has slipped away.  Tubbo had acted oddly, cutting off Quackity and arguing in her speakeasy––Niki cannot remember Tubbo ever raising his voice like that, let alone in front of an audience––and he never looks open to conversation when he does still turn up, he just sits quietly in the corner with Jack, the two of them talking in hushed tones and Niki knows they stop talking whenever she walks too close.  It hurts, and worse than hurt, it’s wrong.  Her boys don’t sneak around her unless it’s for shoplifting from a sweet shop or trying to smuggle an injured squirrel into Ranboo’s bedroom.

The nights Tommy still turns up––rarely on the nights Tubbo is there, and never together, and if someone is there, whoever was there first will find some excuse to leave, which is profoundly wrong––if Tommy is there it’s usually to heckle Wilbur.  Tommy seems unchanged, he’s still loud and a bit rude and always ready for a good joke, but Niki knows him better.  There’s the more surface-level changes, he’s a bit scruffier than usual, and there’s this strange duality of him being more quick to refuse her offers of help and more inclined to ask for it.  She’ll ask if he wants to spend the night and he jumps to say no, but that same day he’ll ask her if she has anything leftover from the bakery that she needs to toss.  Always with a joking tone, like he’s just a teenager with a sweet tooth, but Niki knows it’s different now.  She buries the urge to ask him, “are you not eating enough?” because she knows doing so will make Tommy not accept anything.  There are deeper changes too, ones she has to look more carefully for.  Tommy comes to the Secret City alone.  He will still talk with Ranboo, he’ll talk with her, and oddly enough he’d talk quite a bit with Wilbur, but in the pauses in between his usual rough banter, when he’s stopped taunting Wilbur, he looks tense.  He looks tense like he did before he realized the speakeasy was for people like him.  Tommy views strangers as threats or targets or often both.  He moves through the world like a prey animal and a scavenger, but Niki hasn’t seen that tension cross her doorstep in a long time.  He looks tired too.  Maybe as tired as Tubbo does.

She can’t read Ranboo anymore.  She thinks he might know more about what’s going on than she does, but she’s not sure.  She’s never not sure.  When she asks, Ranboo is always neutral and avoidant in reply, and it’s hard to decide if he looks more worried when she asks about them or if that’s just the persisting, quiet anxiety he’s worn for weeks now.

Niki is good at not prying, to a point.  She’s been perhaps too lenient with Wilbur, who had turned up so mysteriously.  She’d done the basics, told him he should look for a job, that he can’t live on their couch forever, but that doesn’t tell her much.  Wilbur had once been her best friend.  That was a long time ago.  Still, between the two of them, Niki finds it easier to dig a little more at a man she hasn’t seen in years than at her little brother about his friends who might be her little brothers too.

“Morning, Wil,” Niki says.  It’s Monday.  The Bakery closes on Mondays, it gives them time to rest from the weekend rush.  Hence, this is one of the few times she’s still in the apartment when Wilbur stirs.

Wilbur sits up blearily from the couch, curls askew.  “Morning…” He rubs his eyes.

“How are you so tired?” Niki asks.  “You don’t have a job, what is it you stay up late to do?”

Wilbur smiles halfheartedly.  “Find trouble.”  He adds more insistently, “and play for your speakeasy sometimes.”

“Could you work on finding a job before you find trouble?” She teases.  “And play at my speakeasy.  I need you there to keep me company, but maybe a proper job too.”

Wilbur wakes up a bit more in his embarrassment, sheepish.  “Er, yeah.  Probably should do that.”

“Yeah,” Niki says pointedly.

Wilbur gets up, pulling on the same wrinkled white button up he wore yesterday over his undershirt.  “You… didn’t happen to make enough coffee I could have some, perchance?”

She rolls her eyes at him and nods to the pot.

“Ah, you’re a saint,” he mumbles.

There is a brief calm, Wilbur getting himself a cup, and Niki content to lean against the counter and drink hers, thinking.  Wilbur is freshly awake.  He is not a morning person.  Niki knows he is weak and however much he’ll loathe it, it’s the perfect time to push.

“So, we haven’t had much time to talk, Wil.  Feels like you’re always running around doing something, or I’m running around doing something.”

“Oh?” Wilbur says mildly.  “Yeah, yeah guess so,” he sips coffee.

“How’s home?”

Wilbur seems to almost choke, quickly lowering his mug.  “Home?”

“You know, where you came from?  Where you’ve been living?  For the past eight years?” Niki raises her eyebrows at him.

Wilbur almost winces.  “That, uh.  That didn’t really feel like home.”

Niki laughs.  “Okay, you’re very dramatic, do you know that?”  She’s unfazed, continuing on.  She knows some, she knows quite a bit, actually.  Niki can be quiet, but she listens.  There’s something wrong with Phil and Wilbur, and while that’s not new, maybe she’d imagined he’d have grown out of it when he grew up into a proper adult.  “How’s Phil?  How’s…”  She tries to remember other things she’s learned from their brief conversations over the last months and her even briefer amount of contact with Phil over the last eight years.  “How’s your… step-mom?  Do you get along okay?”

“Kristin?” Wilbur seems surprised, as if he hadn’t imagined she was an option for a subject of conversation.  “She’s great. Like, professionally she sort of scares me, but she’s really fun and she makes my dad happy, so.”  He shrugs.  “Can’t hold her choice in business against her, really.”

Niki notes he had skipped over her question about Phil.  “She’s great, but she sort of scares you?  Professionally?”

“She’s, you know,” Wilbur sets down his mug and waves his hands mysteriously, “the Lady Death of Salt Lake City.”

“Oh.”  Niki had not heard that name before, but then again, she already knows more than she wants to about the criminals that can touch her life, let alone keeping up with the ones that don’t.  “So. When you said Phil is more working in the background..?”

“Working for her,” Wilbur nods.  “He’s got a new––well, not really new now––reputation. Angel of Death,” Wilbur says mildly like his father has done something as simple as getting a promotion at the bank.

Niki nods, processing this.  That reputation truly isn’t new to her.  She can’t imagine Wilbur hadn’t heard it before, but Wilbur seems to be under the impression the title came from Kristin.  Phil had chosen the Crowfather as his title, but the City comes up with their own names for their Gods.  It was here that label started.  Phil was a complex man.  He could be, and often had been, ruthless.  He had rules, though.  If he kills someone who still has family to leave behind, he pays for the funeral.  The payments are anonymous, but connections were made regardless.  Phil would murder someone and then lay them to rest, sometimes to the horror of and other times to the relief of their families.  Phil was an Angel of Death long before he found a Death to follow.  Niki continues carefully, nudging the subject.  “Bit of a change from the Crowfather.”

“Not really,” Wilbur says gloomily, and Niki thinks perhaps he did know that title.  “Same business.”  That blasé addition makes her reconsider.  It seems Wilbur is just as unsettled by his father’s work as before.  Niki doesn’t blame him for it.  Of course, she has a bit of a soft spot for Phil.  He’d been good to her and Ranboo.  She’s not so picky as to scorn that even if he’s done things she cannot consider as anything but awful.

Niki continues quickly, before her own line of thinking strays any more grim.  “And is Techno still around?”

“Yeah, as long as Phil is.”

“Yeah, I thought so,” she smiles.  “How is he, then?  Well, how do you think he is?”

Wilbur shrugs.  “They’re the same, Niki.  Alright?  I don’t have anything to tell you, because they’re the same as they always were,” he says coldly.  “You don’t need to bother asking anymore.”

“Wil, I’m asking because I care about them.  You’re really going to be weird about it?” Niki says almost gently, because she knows that way will get Wilbur to actually care.

He wilts.  “Sorry, I’m sorry, Niki,” he presses against his forehead, eyes closed as if warding off a headache.  “You’re right, that was… that was a bit dick-ish of me.”

“Yep.  It was a bit dick-ish,” she laughs.  “I know I’ve said it before, but I’ve missed you, Wil.”

Wilbur, as always, looks surprised.  “Yeah?  What’d you do that for?” He teases.

That gets another laugh out of her and Wilbur looks so proud of himself.  Niki doesn’t know what help this will bring, but knowing a shred more about what’s going on with Wilbur at least feels like progress of some sort.  It doesn’t touch the bigger issues haunting her life or her business, but she wants to know her best friend again, she wants him to be her best friend again.  One day.

“I do have a request for you today, Wilbur.”

Wilbur shifts, sitting up straighter.  “Oh?”

“When you’re out… finding trouble, could you also find a few job applications?  For me?”

Wilbur nods, slouching in his shame.  “I will.  I can for sure do that, Niki.”

“Okay.  I’m going to hold you to that, Wil,” she says warningly, because she knows him, and even with the best of intentions, she knows he’s just as likely to turn up with zero job applications and some grand story about what happened that day instead.

“It was… it was good talking, Niki.  Really,” Wilbur is eager to get out of this conversation.  “Um, I’m gonna… I’m gonna get a start on my day, yeah?”  He smiles awkwardly and side steps past her out of the kitchen.

She smiles.  It’s a little fun to make Wilbur nervous, and quite warranted considering his slacking on his side of their friendship.  “Bye, Wil.”

“Bye!”  The front door shuts, and Niki is once more alone.  She’d let Ranboo sleep in.  She doesn’t have especially high hopes for Wilbur, but somehow he still seems like the problem she has the best understanding of and therefore the best chance of fixing.  Niki sighs, regretting her own line of thought.  She shouldn’t have to fix any of them.

~

Wilbur had told Niki while wandering today he’d grab a few job applications.  Thus far he had not done so.  Wilbur had never had an actual job in his fucking life, and he wasn’t enthused by the thought of starting now.  He hadn’t planned on sticking around long enough to have to pay rent, but here he’s remained.  Thus far he’s just wandered the streets as per usual.  He’d deny it if asked, but right now he’s waiting for Tommy to come barreling into him.  That kid always manages to find him in this city, it’s almost impressive, if not also a bit concerning.  Thus far, the kid hasn’t showed.  Wilbur doesn’t know why that makes him nervous.  Last he saw him, Tommy had complained about the new management at the hotel giving him grief, bad enough his hands were all bloody.  It doesn’t bode well.

Wilbur also wants to go back down into the subway tunnels.  It’s not a logical draw, more it feels like a morbid compulsion, l’appel du vide and all that.  He knows there’s nothing down there for him, except maybe rats and tetanus, but nonetheless.  He’s not scared, but also he sort of doesn’t want to go without Tommy, for no reason in particular.

It’s like Wilbur summons him into being.

“Hello, you stupid swiss cheese of a man!” Tommy appears beside him, making him jump.  “Thrown yourself at any more local mob patrols lately?”

Wilbur has one hand over his racing heart.  “No.  Haven’t found the time,” he says irritably.  “The fuck d’you mean swiss cheese?”

“Oh, ‘cause you were almost full of bullet holes.”  Tommy makes finger guns.

“Right, of course,” Wilbur scoffs. “Where did you even come from?”

“The shadows,” Tommy says with a dramatic whisper.  “Actually, if you don’t mind I’d like it if you joined me in the shadows,” he’s staring at something over Wilbur’s shoulder.

“What?  Why?”

“‘Cause that man––the one across the street obviously looking for me––I currently have his wallet,” Tommy nods at an irritable man wandering in a suit and ducks back into an alley, Wilbur finding himself quick to follow.

“So, still hard at work, I see?” Wilbur says dryly.

“More so than you, I see,” Tommy says mockingly.  “Not an especially productive day, though.  I’m… I’m not tired, but I’m a bit bored of the daily grind, so!” Tommy nods like that settles the matter, excusing some weariness that Wilbur hadn’t even noticed.  Wilbur had noticed that Tommy clearly has some hangups about being seen as weak, so he doesn’t question it.

“Yeah, yeah fair enough.  I told Niki I’d pick up some job applications,” Wilbur says gloomily.

“Ha!  Have fun with that!  Chaining yourself to the Machine, huh?”  Tommy tuts him.  “Poor thing.”

Wilbur glances at Tommy’s hands, which are currently perusing his stolen wallet.  He can see cloth stained a rusted red.  “How’re your… battle wounds, then?”  He nods to them.

Tommy snaps the wallet shut, burying his hands in his pockets.  “Fine, thank you very much.  I heal like, super fast.”

“Really?  Looks like you could use some actual bandages.”

“These are basically the same thing,” Tommy pouts.  “But…” he glances at his hands in his pockets.  “If you’re buying?”

Wilbur is not as broke as he was previously, as he’s gotten at least some tips playing at the Secret City.  He gives some of it to Niki, a feeble approximation of rent, but it’s still something.  It’s definitely not much.  Not enough he should be blowing it on getting some gauze and anti-infectant for some random kid.  Wilbur sighs.

“Come on.  There’s a drugstore around the corner.”

“I know there is.  This is my city.”

“It’s mine too!  I’ve lived here longer than you have.”

“Yeah, but it’s changed since you were here, old man,” Tommy nods wisely.  He stops outside the drugstore.  “I’ll wait here.  I’ve definitely nicked shit from here before and they won’t want to see me.”

“Haven’t you nicked shit from everywhere?”

“Yeah, but here I got caught.”

“Touché,” Wilbur smiles, amused before entering the shop.  He grabs gauze and neomycin before heading up to the counter.  “A pack of Marlboros too.”

The man behind the counter nods, grabbing a pack.  Wilbur glances at the register and what it rings up to.  He stares doubtfully at his own wallet, hesitating over his lineup.  He grabs the neomycin, intending on putting it back, but as he turns he sees movement out of the corner of his eye and glances over to see Tommy pressing against the glass and making faces at him.  Wilbur buries a laugh.

“Actually, scrap the Marlboros.  This is it for me,” he puts the antibiotic back on the counter, only processing his own choice after the fact.  It unsettles him. This wasn’t supposed to happen.

Nonetheless, he returns to the street.  “Here,” he shoves the gauze and neosporin into his hands.

“Thanks, man!” Tommy sits down right there on the window ledge and begins peeling the scraps of sheets off his cut up hands.

“Wait, you’re not gonna wash them first?” Wilbur reaches out to stop him.

Tommy looks amused, glancing around the street.  “You see a bath anywhere?  Trust me, the river will do way more harm than good.”

“No, that’s not what I–” Wilbur sighs.  “Come on,” he nods toward the store.

Tommy shakes his head.  “No, it’s like I said, they won’t want me in there–”

“Who gives a shit?  I’ll go with you, we’ll go to the bathroom, and I’ll help you dress them,” Wilbur says more insistently.  He’s more surprised when Tommy doesn’t continue to protest, just stands to follow.  Tommy looks surprised as well.

Tommy very deliberately stays behind Wilbur, whistling and scanning the shelves in the most conspicuous way possible, until Wilbur drags him into a vaguely horrifying bathroom.

“Honestly, this feels worse than the street,” Tommy crinkles his nose.

Wilbur gives him a look.  “Wash your hands.”

Tommy rolls his eyes but obliges, wincing all the while.  Wilbur stares disapprovingly at the crusted blood and cracked scabbing of the cut across either hand.  Tommy’s hands are also filthy.  Wilbur is also trying to bottle every screaming warning about infection; he knows Tommy isn’t exactly in a place to take good care of himself.

“This fuckin’ sucks,” Tommy mutters.  “Do you have any idea how hard it is to pick pockets in these conditions?”

“It’s not like I did that, why’re you complaining to me?”

“Because you’re here.”

Wilbur rolls his eyes.  “Fine.”  He shoves a wad of paper towels at him.  “Dry them.”

“I know how to dress a wound, dickhead!  Just ‘cause I’m not rich enough to buy all this fancy shit doesn’t mean I don’t know how to dress a wound,” Tommy snaps.  “And I don’t need your help!” He says when Wilbur reaches toward him.

“Your hands are hurt!  You need hands to dress a wound!  Come on, man, stop being a little bitch and just let me,” Wilbur snaps back.

“Fine!  Fine, go for it!  If you want to play doctor, fine!” Tommy rolls his eyes, muttering, half under his breath, “call me a little bitch… from the king of little bitches…”

Wilbur ruefully does so, pasting antibiotic cream onto the cuts, Tommy flinching and pulling away as it burns.

“Ow!  Careful!” Tommy whines.

“It’s so it doesn’t get infected!” Wilbur snaps.

Tommy grumbles wordlessly before trailing off grumpily.

It’s quiet for a time, for once Tommy without anything snarky to say.  Wilbur gets nervous when the silence continues by the time he starts wrapping one hand in gauze.  He glances up, but Tommy is just watching him work with a solemn frown, wary and unsure, like he’s expecting Wilbur to do some harm.  Wilbur deigns not to think on that too hard, instead he refocuses, finishing wrapping Tommy’s other hand.

“Oooh, look at me, I’m Wilbur I can wrap cuts like an expert, I’m so smart,” Tommy says in a high voice, staring at his wrapped hands with clear satisfaction.

“Is that supposed to be a thank you?” Wilbur says dryly.  “Take this, okay?  Just… Don’t let your hands get so grubby,” Wilbur shoves the rest of the roll of gauze and antibiotics into his hands.

“Right, I got a choice in that, do I?” Tommy scoffs.

“Come on.  This place is fucking rank,” Wilbur heads back out the door.

“My hands still hurt.”

“Tough luck.”  They return outside, Wilbur rummaging in his pockets.  “Actually, I’ve got something else for you.  You still got that torch on you?”

“What?  Yeah, why?” Tommy asks suspiciously.

Wilbur offers Tommy two batteries.  He’d been holding onto them for a few days now, having scrounged them from Niki and Ranboo’s junk drawer.  “Fancy another trip into the tunnels?”

“Oh, I knew there was a catch!  What, you think ‘cause you buy a guy a bandage that he has to follow you around and obey your every whim?!” Tommy scowls, genuinely reproachful.

“What?  No!  No, that’s not why I got you a fucking bandage, are you joking?  If you don’t wanna go, I don’t care, I just thought…” Wilbur doesn’t know what he just thought.  “I dunno.  Might be another adventure.”

“I don’t need more adventure.  I’m fuckin’ made of adventure.  I’ve got oodles of adventure.”

“Okay, then don’t come,” Wilbur shrugs, still walking in the general direction of the maintenance entrance they had fled through before.

Tommy keeps pace.  “Wait, wait but that doesn’t mean I want you to go alone!  You’ll get eaten by rats, remember?”

Wilbur laughs.  “I knew you’d want to come.”

“You knew I’d what?  You knew I’d fucking want to what?”

“Shut up!” Wilbur cackles.  “You’re the most annoying fucking child!”

“And you want me to follow you into some fuckin’ dark-ass tunnels?  Hm?  You’re fucking bonkers.  I’m not about to get serialed by a man talking about come–”

“Get what?  Get cerealed?”

“Yeah!  Yeah, serialed!  As in serial fuckin’ murdered!” Tommy snaps.  He does stop in the alleyway, staring at the old maintenance door they had fled through last time.

“Wait, wait go back, you would get serial murdered?  Doesn’t that imply plural?  How the fuck would you get murdered multiple times?” Wilbur scoffs.

“You don’t know me.  You don’t know my murder history,” Tommy says aloofly.  Tommy puts the batteries in his torch, glancing up at the door on occasion like it might bite him.  “No, no but really, why the fuck do you want to go down there again?”

“Aren’t you curious?  That banging noise, look, it was probably just like… pipes settling or old machinery, but I bet we could… we could find other sneaky entrances over the city or something!” Wilbur says.

Tommy looks unenthused, but nonetheless, he’s put batteries in his torch and looks grimly prepared.  “Fine, fine I will go with you, but after this you’re buying me food, got it?”

“That… that sounds like worse bribery than me just getting you some gauze, what the fuck?” Wilbur gives him look.  “What, am I like, dangling cheese on a string down there for you?”

“Now you’ve just made it weird,” Tommy glowers at him before opening the door.  “Surprised no one else has gone down here if it’s that easy.”

“Um, that lock looks like it’s not busted and normal people obey big danger signs,” Wilbur points out as he enters the stairwell.

“Ah, psh.  Cowards!” Tommy scoffs, striding into the dark behind him before flicking on his torch.  “Oh, this is loads better!  I can actually see shit.”

“Don’t shine it in my eyes!” Wilbur hisses, batting his torch away.

“Don’t put your eyes by my torch!”

Wilbur gives him a look.

“Fine, fine, sorry,” Tommy says reluctantly.  “So, mole-man, what are we doing in the tunnels today?”

“I am…” Wilbur hesitates.  “I’m looking for this one platform.  It’s… for nostalgia reasons.”

“You’re nostalgic for a grubby ass train platform?” Tommy raises an eyebrow, striding ahead along the tracks.  They’ve been out of operation for years, but both of them keep off the actual rails.

“Yeah,” Wilbur tries to think of a reason he can give.  “Just…”

He’s saved from replying by Tommy shouting into the dark.  “HELLO?!”

Echoing back, “HELLO?!”

“HI, TOMMY!” Tommy shouts.

“HI, TOMMY!”

Tommy looks over at Wilbur, grinning.  “This tunnel is very polite.”

“Is it?  Are you and the tunnel making friends?” Wilbur says sarcastically, but he can’t resist a smile.

“SHUT UP, WILBUR!” Tommy shouts.

“SHUT UP, WILBUR!”

“See, we’re in agreement.”

“I’m not the one shouting, why do I need to shut up?”

“You were giving me sass, mister.  Tunnel and I don’t like that disrespect,” Tommy tuts him haughtily.

“And stop going ahead!  You don’t know where we’re going,” Wilbur quickens his pace to catch up.

“Oh, like you do?  Last I checked, you didn’t wander from platform to platform this way back in the olden days,” Tommy points out.

“Yeah, but I still know the direction–” Wilbur goes quiet.  There’s another noise, and it is not an echo.  It’s that same sound of metal banging together they had heard the last time.  It sounds about as close as it had the last time, that is, concerningly close.  Wilbur looks over at Tommy, to find him already staring back with wide, nervous eyes.  They listen.  There is silence for a time, the echo of the banging noise fading off, but then it resumes rapidly, three sharp bangs that echo off.  It stops for a moment, then three more, slow, measured.  Wilbur is quickly starting to doubt is “old machinery” theory from last time.

“It’s down that way, right?” Tommy whispers in the next pause, pointing down the tunnel.  He jumps when there are once more three sharp bangs.

“M-Maybe?” Wilbur says.  “The echo– I’m not sure which way.”

“I think it’s that one,” Tommy nods ahead.

Neither of them move.  The banging has yet to resume.  Knowing the direction doesn’t dictate what they do now.  Neither of them really want to see what it is, or more probable, who it is.  Tommy looks forward, shining his torch straight ahead.  The tunnel goes straight longer than the light reaches, so it shows only more blackness.

“What kind of nutcase goes banging around tunnels?” Tommy mutters.

“I mean, us kinds of nutcases,” Wilbur points out, but still he doesn’t move down the tunnel.  It’s Wilbur’s turn to jump when the banging returns without warning, three sharp clangs of metal, and a pause.

“I wanna check it out,” Tommy says, but he already looks like he regret the thought.

Wilbur waits for the next three slow bangs to fade out to reply.  “Okay.  Okay, fine, but the moment we see anything weird, we bail, alright?”

Three sharp bangs.

“Yeah, alright,” Tommy nods and seems to muster some bravery.  He starts off down the tunnel first, stopping often to look back and make sure Wilbur is close behind him, even as he can see Wilbur’s torch shining ahead alongside his.

The banging continues on like clockwork.  Three sharp knocks, whoever is responsible seems to take a break, and then continues slowly, before trying rapid knocks again.  Always in sets of three.  Wilbur feels like he’s missing something; he’s already deeply uneasy, and then his torch glances off of a shape splayed out across the tracks.  Wilbur fumbles forward, reaching out to stop Tommy, his torch refocusing on it.  It’s definitely a body.  He has a feeling they’re not merely unconscious.  Wilbur can’t see their face, they’re laid out on their stomach, head turned the other way, so all he can see is what looks like a red cloth tied around a head of short, dark hair.  There’s definitely blood, covering the arm visible to them.

Tommy spots what his torch is shining on, and to Wilbur’s shock, starts running forward.

“Oh fuck, no, nononononono, hold on a fucking second, it can’t– no, oh my fucking god, no fucking way, it can’t be, it can’t be– f-fuck–” Tommy babbles frantically, voice high and hoarse, words almost overlapping.  Wilbur lunges forward to stop him when he runs toward the strange corpse in the dark, but Tommy is too quick.  Tommy falls to his knees by the body, and before Wilbur can warn him of the hundred reasons why it’s a bad idea, Tommy touches it, rolling it over onto its side.  Tommy falls back, face buried in his hands, and it takes a moment for Wilbur to process that he’s relieved.

“Fuck… fuck, it’s not him… it’s not him…” Tommy’s knees are tucked up into his chest, rocking slightly, sounding breathless.

“Tommy?” Wilbur says cautiously.  “Are you… are you okay?”  He asks a rather stupid question, but he doesn’t know what else to do.

Tommy sniffs loudly, wiping his nose on his sleeve, and Wilbur pretends he can’t see Tommy’s cheeks are shiny and damp in the torchlight.  Tommy stares at the corpse again, without any apparent squeamishness at the sight, he still pores over it, like he’s trying to make sure.  “It’s not him,” Tommy croaks, reassuring himself more than informing Wilbur of anything.  Wilbur dares to stare at the body’s face.  The corpse it seems had been blindfolded by a strip of red cloth, but Wilbur can still see the lower half of his face, it’s a man with a patchy beard, a narrow, crooked nose, he seems to be just a few years older than Wilbur.

“Not who?” Wilbur asks gently.

Tommy blinks, and seems to come back to himself in some way, clambering to his feet.  “Nothing,” he’s still staring at the corpse.  “Thought it was… no one.  Just, one of my mates.  An old friend.  I don’t… I don’t see him as much anymore, and he’s… he gets dragged into some shit.  Doesn’t stay out of it like I do, and I always warned him, I always told him…” Tommy trails off, moving on.  “And wears a fuckin’ red headband, and from behind, it…” Tommy nods to the blindfold, trailing off again, his thoughts disconnected.  “A-And the blood on his arm, thought maybe it was… Just from behind and a ways back, not… not the face at all, just…” Tommy shakes his head.  “It’s… it’s not him,” he repeats.

Wilbur still feels almost sick with nerves.  This exchange had happened over the course of a lull in the banging, Wilbur isn’t sure if this pause has lasted longer than the last, but he’s not sure he wants to wait around for it to continue.  “We should go, Tommy.”

“What-?” Tommy glances up at him.  “Yeah,” Tommy takes one step back the direction they had come before pausing.  “What about the… the noise?” Tommy looks both ways, as if inviting it to continue.

“Tommy, that man, he didn’t die from natural causes,” Wilbur says softly.  “And if whoever did that to him is prowling around down here…” Wilbur hesitates.  He doesn’t want to scare the kid.  “I mean, the noise hasn’t gotten any closer.  We’ve gotten closer to it.  Like…” Wilbur looks back toward the stairwell he knows is somewhere in the dark behind them.  “Like they’re trying to draw us deeper in.”  Wilbur looks back at Tommy and sees he’s certainly failed to not scare the kid.

“We… we can’t tell anyone.  We can’t tell anyone about this, about the…” Tommy doesn’t even look at the corpse now, but Wilbur understands.  “Can’t go to the cops, least I can’t.  We… we can’t explain how we were down here a-and–”

“I know, Tommy.  We should go.”  Wilbur doesn’t know why he does it, he doesn’t think, he just does, but he offers Tommy his hand.  Wilbur almost doesn’t realize he’s done it until Tommy accepts.

Tommy’s expression doesn’t indicate confusion on his side of things, but he still seems sort of hazy, so Wilbur just starts walking, guiding them back to the street.  They emerge just as the surviving streetlights kick on, but it’s still far preferable to the dark underground.

“Right, I think… I think we should get out of here,” Wilbur starts walking.  “Don’t… don’t get all defensive if I offer, but d’you want me to walk you back to the hotel?”

“Nah, I’m… I’m good,” Tommy shrugs.

“Don’t do that, man, just… let me do it, alright?  It’ll make me feel better–”

“Not everything is about you, ay?” Tommy scoffs.  “I’m not going to the hotel no more.”

“Are you still having a hard time getting inside?  I thought you figured out a way around the… the stuff,” Wilbur stops when he realizes Tommy isn’t following, instead scuffing his feet and leaning against the wall of the alley.

“No, not just that…” Tommy trails off gloomily.  “The nutter that replaced Jack, y’know the one that put razors on the windows?  Now he’s checking the empty rooms with a fucking golf club.  Thought he was gonna crack my fuckin’ ‘ead open…”

Wilbur steps closer to Tommy, immediately finding himself bottling rage and horror in equal measure.  “He came at you with a golf club?!”

Tommy steps back on impulse, scowling.  “No, he asked if I wanted to go a round and I told him I only did crazy golf- yes he swung at me, dumbass…”

“Holy shit, Tommy, you– Don’t tell me you’re going back there!  I mean, where are you gonna go?”  Wilbur doesn’t know why he feels panicked.

“Obviously not!  That’s what I just said.   I’ll…” Tommy’s feeble excuse of saying he’ll find somewhere else to crash dies with a shiver.  After the night they’ve had, he’s a little more vulnerable.  “Can I… Can I walk to Niki’s with you?  And… And I’ll figure something out on the way there.”

“Yeah, something like sleeping there.”

Tommy frowns, but he doesn’t say no this time.

~

Niki wants to talk to Ranboo.  She doesn’t know what to do with herself on her days off anymore.  Puffy doesn’t have time to go boxing with her anymore, and Eret is busy with the museum and some fancy new investments she’s made so she rarely has time to come over for their usual chats, and if Eret is busy HBomb is busy too, Karl even seems to be busy nowadays.  Ranboo is in the same boat, not that Niki really understands why.  Even if Tubbo has something going on, Tommy is always available.  Niki also has a feeling that Ranboo knows she wants to talk to him, because he’s been finding excuses to go back to his room, before realizing there’s nothing to do in there, coming back out, realizing his sister clearly having some sort of emotion towards him, and finds an excuse again.

“Aren’t you going to help me with dinner?” Niki asks as Ranboo is halfway down the hall back to his room.  He turns on his heels, looking a shred less anxious than someone walking to the gallows and nods.

“Yep!”

“Okay,” Niki can’t help but be amused.  Even if she were actually mad at Ranboo, which isn’t the word she would use for whatever she’s feeling at present, Ranboo is well past the age where she could attempt to ground him, at this point what he’s dreading is her saying she’s disappointed in him.  Which, to be fair, tends to be viewed as a death sentence by all three of them, Ranboo and Tommy and Tubbo.

Ranboo hums to fill the quiet, glancing at her often, and to her surprise, he speaks up first, methodically chopping vegetables so he doesn’t have to look over at her.  “You doin’ okay?”

“What?” She looks over at him, thrown off.  “Yeah.  I think so.  Are you?”

Ranboo doesn’t seem to believe her.  “Yeah!”

Niki doesn’t really believe him either.  Quiet for a bit, neither quite sure of how to proceed.

“How’s Tubbo?  And Tommy?”

“Huh?  Oh, I think…” He falters, "I think okay.”

“Have you not seen them much?”  She already knows the answer.  She asks anyway.

“No,” he sounds amused.  “I mean, I’ve been with you.  When would I have seen them?  I mean, you haven’t seen your friends much.”

“Well, they’re busy with criminal things,” Niki says teasingly.

“Yeah, well, mine too.” Ranboo says, his humor sharper, bitter.

“But even before, you all made time for each other, didn’t you?  Do you know why Tubbo hasn’t come to the Secret City with Tommy at all?  It doesn’t seem like them.”

“I don’t know everything they do, Niki,” Ranboo snaps.

“Ranboo,” Niki can’t help the hint of hurt in her voice.

“Sorry,” he mutters.

“It’s… it’s fine,” she sighs.  “You don’t talk to me anymore, Ranboo.  I just… I just want to know what’s happening.”

“Maybe I just don’t have much to say,” Ranboo shrugs.

“Are you… are you guys not friends anymore?”

“No,” Ranboo says quickly.  His face scrunches up, and he doesn’t even look upset really, more so worried.  “Do we have to talk about this right now?”

“When else are we going to?!” Niki snaps.  “Sorry.  I’m sorry, Ranboo, I’m just… I don’t want you to lose them.”

“You say that like I have a choice.”

“You always have a choice!” Niki grows emphatic.

“Really?” Ranboo is defensive.  “Did you have a choice when you lost Wilbur?”

Icy silence.  Niki is taken aback, a lump in her throat, because it wasn’t just harsh or startling, coming from Ranboo, saying that to her, it’s almost cruel.  Worse when he continues.

“He left you, Niki, and now you’re… you’re letting him live here…”

“You agreed!”

“I thought it was gonna be for a couple days!  Not a couple months!”

“He left everyone, Ranboo. He didn’t just leave me.”

“I don’t care about everyone!  I care about you.  And he hurt you!  And– And it’s like you’re not even mad at him!” Ranboo’s voice breaks slightly, choked up rage that isn’t just meant for Wilbur.

“It sounds like you are.”

“Because you should be,” he says accusingly.  “A-And it’s not fair that he stopped talking to you, he just… he just moved on.  He didn’t… he didn’t think about it.  Like he didn’t even care.”

“Ranboo…” Niki reaches out to him, he pulls away.  “You know it’s okay if you’re hurting right now, right?”

“This isn’t about me. Not right now, okay?  I know I– I know–” Ranboo cuts himself off, frustrated by his own emotions.  “Let’s– Let’s just pick one, and right now I… I wanna talk about Wilbur, and–”

The front door of their apartment opens.  Wilbur and Tommy enter, and immediately read the tension of whatever they have just interrupted.

“Uh.  Ayup?” Tommy gives the two of them a nod.  “Well, I’ve got you home safe, Wilbur, I ought to be going–” he turns back to the door and Wilbur grabs his sleeve.

“Tommy needs somewhere to stay.”

“Do not–”

“The new hotel manager came at him with a golf club.”

“He what?!” Ranboo is snapped out of his own brooding.

“And I kicked his ass and left!  It’s not a problem,” Tommy whines.

“Yeah, but you can’t go back, and you shouldn’t be just sleeping outside, Tommy,” Wilbur says pointedly.

“I’ve done it before!”

“No,” Niki says sharply.  Tommy stares at her, startled.  “Tommy that is in no way safe.  Not right now, okay?  You’re staying here.”

Tommy quickly realizes he no longer has a choice.  “Right… fine, but just for tonight, alright?”

Niki turns to Wilbur, just as piercing.  “Did you get any job applications?”

If Wilbur could sink into the floor, he would.  “W-Well, I… I meant to, it’s just… some things came up…”

“What?  What things?”

“Sorry, sorry, nothing, it was… it was stupid of me.  Never mind,” Wilbur winces, knowing how useless his excuses are.

Ranboo gives Niki a weighted glance that Wilbur is at a loss to understand, and Niki is resolutely ignoring it.

“Tommy, I’m sorry, but if you’re staying here, you’ve got to take a shower,” Niki nods Tommy down the hall.

“Okay, rude, not my fault that I haven’t been able to use the hotel showers in a… in a little while…” he grumbles, following her.

For a dangerous, brief amount of time, Wilbur and Ranboo are alone.

“What came up?” Ranboo asks.

Wilbur notes the hint of ice in his tone and hesitates.  “It was… it was a cheap excuse, I… I got distracted with Tommy.  That’s all.  No good reason.”

“So… so why’d you say you did?” Ranboo says quietly.

“I don’t… I don’t know.  Felt bad about it, really,” Wilbur shrugs.

“Right,” Ranboo is cool and unfeeling.  “Niki and I were making dinner.  Do you think you could help?”

Wilbur knows it’s not a request.

“Right, right, let me… let me wash my hands,” Wilbur nods, going to the sink.  “What’re you making?”

“Um, baked rutabaga and parmesan chicken?”

“Rutabaga…” Wilbur laughs fondly.  “Right.”

Silence until Niki returns.

“Thanks, Wil,” Niki says, reentering the kitchen.

“Sure!  Sure, it’s the… it’s the least I can do.”

“Yep,” Ranboo agrees quietly.

Niki gives him a warning look, before proceeding as if she hadn’t heard him.  “Ranboo, Tommy is going to borrow some of your clothes.”

“Fine with me,” Ranboo says.

Wilbur looks between the two of them, eyes wide.  He focuses on his assigned task.  A terse half hour passes before Tommy returns, hair still dripping wet, dampening the collar of one of Ranboo’s shirts.  Tommy’s had to roll up the pant legs of his jeans substantially.

Wilbur laughs.  “You look like a wet dog.”

“Do I?” Tommy strides over to him and shakes his head so water flies everywhere, largely into Wilbur’s face.

“Tommy!  Come on, man, not… not in the kitchen,” Ranboo says helplessly.

“Sorry,” Tommy rolls his eyes, before catching sight of Niki and offering with more sincerity, “sorry!”

“Ranboo, can you get your desk chair?  We need one more.”

“Yeah, sure.”

Their tiny dining table is typically only used for two, a third chair is there for a guest, but it’s rare for them to have more than that company in the apartment.  It’s far easier to host in the speakeasy.  Niki has dragged the table out from the wall so a chair can be put on the fourth side.  Wilbur helps set the table and Tommy gathers drinks and despite the lingering tension, it feels almost cozy.  The four of them have settled in, Tommy eating with a disconcerting amount of enthusiasm, but no one at the table has the heart to scold him for it.  Once Tommy has cleared a plate and gone back for seconds, he begins to peer around the table.

“Brrr. Bit chilly in here, eh?  What’s got you all up in a huff?”  Tommy is quite good and prodding the one issue everyone else is still avoiding.

Wilbur doesn’t feel like he knows what’s going on, so he doesn’t speak, Ranboo loathes the thought of being the one to speak up first, especially about confrontation, and Niki neither wants to lie to Tommy nor get into things.  Tommy waits.

“Well I think whatever has gotten you lot in a mood, you should do some soul searching, reevaluate your pri-or-i-tees,” he enunciates every syllable around a mouthful of rutabaga.  “Like, Ranboo, handsome lad like you, what on earth could be troubling that brain of yours?  You’re a baker, you’re a looker, you’re all… like, sensitive and shit, you’re a catch!  Niki, if you’ve got problems, you should just… y’know, kick their asses like you always do.  In what fuckin’ world does Niki Nihachu feel troubled by something she can’t wreck shop over?  You’ve got a badass speakeasy and everything!  You don’t fear no pigs, the state should fear you!”  Tommy nods once like that settles the matter, before refocusing on his plate.  The tension doesn’t break, but it does crack a little.

“No grand input for me?” Wilbur says dryly.

“Nah, I know why you’ve got troubles, and it’s your own fault,” Tommy shrugs.

Ranboo laughs.

“Hey!” Wilbur says, indignant.

“You gonna tell me I’m wrong?  Hm?” Tommy gives him a look.

“Yeah, are you, Wil?” Niki smiles.  “I mean, you couldn’t pick up one job application?”

Wilbur is flushing red.  “Look, maybe I… I’m not thrilled at the thought of scrounging together some shitty nine-to-five with a dickhead boss…”

“How do you know what job shit is like?  You’ve never worked a day in your fuckin’ life,” Tommy jeers.

“Have you had a job before, Tommy?” Wilbur says pointedly.

“More than you.”

“I’d say both of you don’t know anything about having a real job,” Ranboo points out.

“And I’d say you don’t know much about having shitty nine-to-five and a dickhead boss,” Niki adds.  “You got lucky too, Ranboo.”

“I mean, maybe I do–”

Niki gasps, dramatically acting offended, throwing her napkin at him.

“Hey!  Hey, I’m kidding,” Ranboo hunches down which does very little to make himself a smaller target.

“I dunno, Ranbus, she’s a tough egg to crack, y’know?  She runs a tight ship.  She hasn’t put up with any nonsense as long as I’ve known her.  She’s been immovable since she was twelve, probably longer,” Wilbur teases.  Niki rolls her eyes at him, poorly masking a laugh.  Wilbur glances back over at Ranboo, startled to find Ranboo staring at him, eyebrows slightly raised, mouth open slightly like he’s unsure of how to say something, to describe whatever unreadable expression he’s currently stabbing into Wilbur’s chest.  “What?” Wilbur shifts uncomfortably.

“You haven’t called me that since I was little.”

“Well, I– I haven’t been here a lot, have I?” Wilbur stammers.

“Yeah.  Guess not.”

Tommy snorts.  “Ranbus?  That’s fucking adorable, aw, little Ranbus!”

“No, nuh uh, you’re not starting with that,” Ranboo breaks his gaze, turning sharply to Tommy.  “Not allowed!  Not for you!”  He says it like he’s trying to get a dog to drop a sock.  “I’d prefer when you call me Ranboob to you calling me that.”

Tommy grins, “aw, good to hear it, Ranboob!  I shall only respect your proper title.”

Ranboo sighs head in his hands as realizes what he’s done.  “Oh no…”

Tommy continues his teasing, and Wilbur plays along, but he’s wrapped up in deeper thoughts right now, so many old aches and pains mingling with new ones, and he doesn’t know where to put it all down.

Dinner finishes in better spirits than it had started, Tommy offering to help clean up after with the same heroics of a soldier offering to dive on a grenade, but nonetheless, he does it.

“Right, then, good night, lads– and Niki,” Tommy settles in on the floor with ease, stealing a pillow from the couch.

“Tommy, you take the couch, man. I’ve had it for ages, I should shake things up and sleep on the floor for a change,” Wilbur offers.

“What’ve you got against floors?  I got nothin’ against ‘em!  Me and floors are old friends!” Is Tommy’s attempt at a defense.

“Mhm, Tommy, where did you sleep last night?” Niki asks pointedly before she goes to her own room.

“On a bench over on 30th until one of the pigs woke me up, why?”

Niki and Wilbur exchange a look.  “Take the couch, Tommy.”

“Tommy can stay with me in my room for the night!” Ranboo says perhaps too excitedly.

Tommy raises an eyebrow at him.  “Look, Ranboob, I did admit, you’re a handsome lad, but me?  I’m shy, I’m not ready for this step in our relationship–”

“Tommy,” Ranboo cuts him off exasperatedly.  “Come on, it’ll be like when we’d have sleepovers and stuff!  It’ll be fun,” Ranboo claps and points to his bedroom door.  “Come on!  Let’s go!”

“What, are we gonna braid each other’s hair and talk about girls?” Tommy rolls his eyes but clambers off the ground to follow.

“I mean, you can talk about girls.  I don’t think I will.”

Niki smiles, fond and relieved.  Ranboo had missed having company.  None of them are acknowledging the hole, the absence once occupied for so many years by Tubbo.  He should be here.  

Even as Tommy is grateful to have a bed, as he’s missed Ranboo’s company just as Ranboo had missed his, he’s trying really hard not to get weak right now.  He refuses to cry over something as ridiculous as the idea of his best friend––his former best friend?––not being in the place he is meant to.  Tubbo has changed.  Tommy knows this, Tommy knows he should be able to let go, because that’s not his best friend anymore, in more ways than one.  At the same time, Tommy knows if Tubbo showed up right now, no matter the state, no matter the blood on his hands, Tommy would only be able to hug him, to bring him back into the fold and say “Where have you been, Bee Boy?  You’re late.  And you missed dinner.”

Instead, he just follows Ranboo, and even as neither of them say it, he can read Ranboo’s silence for the same thought.  They miss him.

~

Wilbur has a difficult time falling asleep.  He’s perturbed by troubling thoughts, thoughts he hadn’t been prepared for.  It’s a peculiar list that’s been growing.  Only looking at today, not even the past months, and it’s enough to make his head spin.  He’d forgone cigarettes to get that scrappy kid some medicine he probably won’t even use.  And when Tommy had run to the body, he hadn’t felt scared like that in a long time.  Probably in as long a time since he called Ranboo Ranbus.

“Fuck…” Wilbur mutters into the dark.  He rolls over and almost screams.  Niki is currently making her way silently across the living room, he sits up sharply.  “Niki?”

“Sh!” She presses a finger to his lips.  She motions for him to follow.  “Come on the roof with me,” she whispers.  In her other hand, she has a bottle.

“The roof-? Right, fine,” Wilbur clambers to his feet.

“Take that blanket too.”

He does so, following her to door in the back of the kitchen, within it is a pantry, and on the opposite wall, a ladder.  He does not ask questions.

Niki unlocks a trapdoor, wincing when it creaks loudly, but as far as they can tell the boys haven’t been woken.

The roof isn’t quiet.  It’s well past midnight, but there’s the wind through the buildings and cars still making their way across the city.  Niki shuts the hatch behind him, gesturing to the roof.

“Put the blanket down.  Over here so we can look out,” she nods to the front of the building.  At this angle to the street, Wilbur can see all the way to the river, to the distant lights of the bridge.  They can’t see a single star in the sky here, but there’s something beautiful about it anyway.

Niki sits on the blanket, patting the spot beside her.  She rips the cork out of the bottle with her teeth, spitting it over the edge of the roof.  She spots Wilbur’s expression out of the corner of her eye and giggles.

“I run a speakeasy, Wilbur,” she says by way of explanation.

“I don’t think most bartenders are comfortable ripping a cork out with their teeth.”

Niki shrugs.  “How would I know?  I can’t exactly meet up with other bartenders in a prohibition state.”  She takes a swig, wincing.

“Touché,” Wilbur sits beside her.  “What’re we drinking tonight?”

“Um,” she takes another swig.  “Gin.”

“Gin?”

She nods.  “It’s popular.  I thought we might as well,” she offers him the bottle.

“Might as well…” Wilbur mutters.  He takes a drink, shuddering.  “That’s… that’s some strong gin, shit.”

“Feels…” Niki mulls it over, “appropriate?”

“What’s the occasion?” Wilbur smiles, still puzzled, but also oddly delighted.  He’s missed this.

“Um, not really an occasion, more like… a goal,” she takes back the bottle, takes a swig, and passes it back, nodding at him.  He obliges and takes another drink.

“Goal?”

“To get you, Wilbur Soot, drunk enough to… to spill your guts to me.”

Wilbur had been halfway through another swig when he chokes.  “Pardon?”

Niki smiles, all mischief.  “To be fair, I am drinking too.”

“Feels like I’ve been brought here under false pretenses.”

“What pretenses?” She laughs.

“Fine.  I dunno,” Wilbur smiles, offering her the bottle.  “Okay, if we’re… if we’re spilling guts, lets do it tit-for-tat, quid pro quo.”

She nods, “wie du mir, so ich dir.”

“Wie du mir, so ich dir,” Wilbur attempts to copy her pronunciation and he can’t tell from her smile if he succeeded or failed.  “So,” Wilbur asks the first thing that comes into his head.  “Is Ranboo… is he mad at me?  He seems… well, about as pissed off as Ranboo can be, if I’m honest.”

Niki nods, like it’s an easy truth.

“He is?”

“Yeah, it’s ‘cause he knows you leaving hurt me.”

“Oh,” Wilbur feels like a weight has just pressed down harder on his shoulders.

Niki nods amicably.  “And now you’re back.  And he thinks you have a lot to prove.”

“Yeah.  I… I think I do,” Wilbur takes another swig.

“Do you have anything to do with the…” Niki gestures vaguely to the streets below.

“The what?” He’s puzzled out of his melancholy.

“The changes.  A lot of little things.  I don’t know,” she shrugs.  “It all sort of started when you turned up, and, sorry, Wil, you…” she almost looks pitying.  “You break things.  Sometimes.”

Wilbur nods, staring out at the patchy trail of streetlights, some lit, some not.  “I break things,” he agrees softly.

“Sometimes,” Niki reminds him pointedly.

He laughs, half under his breath, “sometimes.”

“There’s something wrong, Wil.  Schlatt is dead, and I thought…” Niki frowns.  “I don’t know what I thought.  When I first found out, I was mostly worried about Tubbo, but then I… I thought it was gonna fix things.”

Wilbur once more thinks of his father, and it’s hard to resist the bitterness curdling in his stomach.  “It was bad, then?”  Quiet.  He glances over at Niki, who is looking with the same thoughtfulness out at the city.  Wilbur continues, “Schlatt, I mean.”

She glances at him, clearly measuring up how little he knows.  “It’s like I said, Wil.  You’ve been gone a long time.”

“I have,” Wilbur says like it’s an apology.  It isn’t an apology.

“Drink more.  You’re bigger than me, you need to catch up,” she presses the bottle into his hands.  He obliges.

“I didn’t want to, you know.  To leave you, to leave the city,” Wilbur knows it’s a feeble defense, but it’s all he can think to say.

She still look like she knows something, something she isn’t saying, not directly at least.  “Didn’t you?”

“I…” Wilbur feels very vulnerable.  He can’t imagine Niki knowing, knowing the whole of it, but it’s clear she understands him in a lot of ways.  Which makes sense.  Niki had once been his best friend.  “I don’t know,” is what he settles on.  It’s a safe answer, maybe too safe.

Niki sighs, sitting up, legs folded beneath her.  Wilbur offers her the bottle once more and she pushes it back.  “You first, then me.”

He takes a drink.  She follows.

“You all left, you and Phil and Techno, and… and Phil leaving was hard.  He… he sent money until I asked him to stop.  He called until I… I got too busy to pick up,” she shrugs.  “I don’t know,” she echoes his sentiment, staring down at the roof.  “Techno said goodbye.  A… a pretty good goodbye, I think.  And I was… I was mostly okay for a while.  Schlatt… Schlatt didn’t get involved until I was eighteen.  That’s when I opened the Secret City, ‘cause before I was worried if I got caught while underage it would fall back on Eret’s family, so…”

Wilbur knows it’s far from important, but on impulse he asks her, almost defensive, like a childish teen rivalry has resurfaced.  “Eret?”

“Yeah.  Her family helped look after us.  You… you can’t own a business at sixteen, Wil,” Niki says wryly.  “I mean, we were on our own, really.  Me and Ranboo.  They didn’t really interfere, it just made sure no one was like, trying to take Ranboo away from me or anything like that.”

“Oh,” Wilbur feels almost embarrassed now.  “I… I understand.  Got it.”  He takes another drink.

“You said you were coming back, Wil,” Niki says softly.

“I meant to,” he says hoarsely.  He means it.

“Okay, but when you weren’t anymore, when you didn’t,” she looks over at him, eyes too shiny.  “Why didn’t you call?  Why didn’t you… why didn’t you write?  Why didn’t you say anything to me?”

Wilbur feels like that look in her eyes, grief and broken trust and wounds still unhealed, like it might burn him up from the inside.  He can’t bring himself to look away.

“I don’t have any good answers for you.”

“Give me a bad one, then.”

"Fuck, I'm just a mess," Wilbur wipes his eyes.

"Yeah, you are," she says teasingly.  "Give me an answer."

Wilbur swallows thickly, a lump forming in his throat, finally tearing his gaze from hers to stare at the way the bottle in his hand gleams in the streetlight.  “It was supposed to be a clean break.”  He gives the wrong excuse, but it’s the only one he has.

Niki feels an ache in her chest grow sharp.  She had expected a bad answer, but that one stings, especially when she knows what festers underneath.  “Clean…” she scoffs.  A pause, Wilbur with nothing to say in his own defense, and Niki thinking.  “I was... I was okay on my own.  Really.  Schlatt wasn't a problem until I opened the Secret City and... and when he first started showing up and taking money and... and then alcohol, I didn't... I didn't know what he was gonna do to us.  I'd never... Phil kept us away from that stuff, you know?  I... I made sure they didn't know about Ranboo," Niki nods once, as if reassuring herself, proud and certain she did right by him.  "They wouldn't fucking touch him, I made sure.  I couldn't stop them from knowing he worked there, but... they didn't know he was my family.  So, that was... a bit safer?  I think?  And... I hate this," she says vehemently.  "I hate that this is the truth, but when I stopped fighting, it got easier.  I gave them the money, my supplies, whatever they asked for.  I only fought back when... when I thought it would actually sink us, and before I got brave enough to do that I had to ask Eret for help sometimes and I hated doing that, because I knew I shouldn't have had to.  Once I gave up, his men stopped coming and threatening to break things, and instead it was just Tubbo.  It felt... it felt easier that way.  I gave up so much of what we earned, and that just became normal," she says that word like it's something vulgar.  "But I did it.  I did it.  I kept everyone safe, everyone.  I looked after them all.  Homeless kids, and Schlatt's kid, and Schlatt's boyfriend, and Schlatt's boyfriend's boyfriend, and Schlatt's doctor, and... and Badlanders and ex-Badlanders, and ex-Empire kids, because... because they were gone.  You were gone.  The Empire left us, and I wasn't gonna let that hurt us.  No way.  Maybe I didn't have Phil's authority or Techno's reputation or... or anything like that.  But I kept them all safe.  All of them," she looks at Wilbur, and he is almost in awe of the fire burning behind her eyes.  Wilbur feels so sure that if Niki wanted to burn this city down, she could and she'd probably have the right to.  The fire drains out of her, and once more she looks so tired.  "The earlier years were the hardest.  The ones where I missed you the most, Wil."  Niki takes a shaky breath.  She looks away.  "When I say Schlatt was bad, I don’t say it because I think you could’ve fixed things.  Maybe if Phil had stuck around, he could’ve made it better, but that’s different.  That’s not you.”  A pause.  Wilbur almost feels like he can’t breathe.  Niki continues, “even with the bad parts of it, really I just wanted you to be there, Wil.  You were– you were supposed to be there,” Niki says it with the certainty of a girl who had been eighteen, and alone, and scared, and trying to defend herself from threats so much bigger than her, and waiting for her brother to get taken away, and all the while wishing she could cry on her best friend’s shoulder.

“I am… I am so sorry, Niki.  I don’t expect forgiveness, I don’t, I just need you to know how sorry I am.”  A strange apology for someone utterly certain his father had dragged him out of this city kicking and screaming, but maybe he’s not talking about that kind of leaving.  Maybe Niki knows that.

Niki does not forgive him.  “I believe you, Wil.”  That counts for something too.

Wilbur has felt something building in his chest for weeks, discontent forever rising as his plans never turn out quite right and he has been unable to do the one thing he came to this city for.  A lot has changed in the past months.  His discontent finally spills over.

“I came here, I came back to the city two months ago,” Wilbur stops, taking a deep breath to stop his lip from trembling.  He quickly wipes his cheek.  He doesn’t look at her.  “I came back here to kill myself.”

Niki doesn’t say a word.  She doesn’t know what she could say, but she isn't really surprised.  She takes his hand.

“N-Not here, here.  I wasn’t… I wasn’t gonna do it in your house,” Wilbur continues to spill over, a rambling defense for something he knows cannot be defended.  “I was… I had a plan, it was… it wasn’t supposed to take this long, but I had to– It had to be– Someone else has to do it,” he says forcefully.  “I wanted it to be Schlatt.  Or Schlatt’s dogs, whatever.  If not him, any gunfire would do.  I tried prodding the Badlands, I tried going down the wrong streets and… and spraying stupid graffiti on claimed territory, and none of it worked.  Closest I got was that stupid fucking car bomb, and all it did was almost kill Tommy…”

Now Niki can think of a reply, not to the matter on the whole, but to this piece of it.  “Why?”  Wilbur glances at her, burden evident at the thought of answering that sort of question, Niki corrects.  “Why… why did it have to be someone else, I mean.”

Wilbur laughs bitterly.  “It was supposed to be for Phil?  I thought… I thought it might be nice for it to mean something, so, I thought if I got myself killed in the crossfire of some petty street violence, maybe…” Wilbur trails off, as if by voicing it aloud he’d realized the childishness of his plots.  “Maybe it would make him want to change.  To do better.  Something like that,” he sighs.

“For Phil,” Niki repeats, processing.

“Yeah,” Wilbur says wearily.

“Don’t… don’t take this the wrong way, Wilbur, but… but once all that didn’t work, why didn’t you… you know, try something else?” Niki asks carefully.

Wilbur had forgotten how direct Niki could be.  “Um, well, lots of… of little reasons, I guess.”

“Little reasons?”

Wilbur huffs, almost annoyed with the idea.  “It was… it was that stupid fucking kid, alright?  It was Tommy.”

Niki smiles, almost amused.  “Tommy?”

“Not… not for lovely sentimental reasons, not at first at least, but he just… he kept showing up.  Every day, I’d be wandering around, debating between the river and a highrise, and there he’d fucking be!  Calling me a layabout and following me and hounding me until I’d decide it was worth trying a few more schemes to see if I could get myself killed that way, and even then!  Even then, he’d find a way to get in the way.  Like, I tried to get out in front of a Badlands patrol, when they were first starting to get all nervous, and this kid latches onto me like a furious fucking koala, and he won’t let me out of the alleyway without him, so I gave up that time.  And shit like that just kept happening,” Wilbur sighs, shaking his head, almost amazed.  “He just… by accident, he just kept me out of it.”

“That sounds like Tommy.”

Wilbur laughs dryly.  “Does it?”  Wilbur broods, once more returning to the thoughts that had been circling his sleepless brain earlier.  “And he’s… he needs help, right?  He obviously needs help, and needs it worse than any of us first thought, apparently, and I…” Wilbur sighs.  “And I can’t.  Okay?”

“You… you don’t think you can help him?  Wil, no one would expect that of you.”

“No, not that, and it’s not a matter of expectation, it’s–” Wilbur runs a hand through his hair, tugging at his curls as he feels like Niki and all her love for him is digging a confession out of his chest, but he wants this, he wants to tell her, because he loves her too.  “I can’t kill myself.  Not until… not until he’s better.  ‘Cause I… I almost forgot about Ranbus.”

“You… what do you mean you almost forgot Ranboo?” Now Niki is properly confused.

“Not Ranboo– Ranbus.  I… I said it so effortlessly, I didn’t even think about it, but before tonight, I almost forgot what I called that kid, that I… I was something to him,” Wilbur sighs.

“You still are something to him.”

Wilbur smiles weakly, grateful for her kindness even if he doesn’t think he deserves it.  “Maybe.  I… you’re good to him, Niki.  You were still a kid yourself, and you took care of him.  He’s lucky, and I think he knows how lucky he is, to have you for a big sister, and…” Wilbur trails off, words coming together slowly.  “And Tommy’s not lucky.  In more than one way, because he had no one, and instead of someone like you, Niki, he gets stuck with me instead,” Wilbur laughs.  “So, I can’t kill myself.  Because he needs… he needs someone.  That’s all.”

Niki scoots closer, resting her head on his shoulder.  “I’m sorry, Wilbur.  For… for a lot of things you’ve had to go through, but I’m really glad you’re here now.  And I’m really glad you’re not going anywhere.”

Wilbur takes a shaky breath, no longer trying to ward off tears or the tremor in his voice.  “Thanks, Niki.”

“Maybe Tommy isn’t as lucky as Ranboo, but he’s still lucky to have you.”

Wilbur nods.  “Thank you.  For a lot of things, but Niki,” Wilbur looks over at her, looking her in the eye for once without fear or guilt or shame.  “Thank you for being my best friend.”

Niki smiles, reaching out to mess up his hair.  “You’re welcome.  Thank you for… for trying to bring my best friend back.”

Wilbur understands.  “I’ll be him again.  I promise.”

Niki gets to her feet, unsteady and offering him a hand off the ground.  “I’ll hold you to that, Wilbur Soot.  Don’t think I won’t.”

[imsosocold]

A very (un)comprehensive review of the TOH Season 2 Finale: 

Me: This episode is our finale to this little series. We’re taking a long break after this, I can’t handle making these, it took like fourish days to do so. I do hope to release an OPM MA arc review eventually. I chose this episode in particular because it at least resembles a finale, unlike the season 1 finale. 

Lomes: The fact you complimented this episode means we’re going to insult it purposefully more.

Me: You foolish fools-

Lomes: Check out this castle, it’s so boring. Where’s my Luang Prabang?

Sunniva: I want it more to be like the Sagrada Familia.

Jorah: I don’t care if it’s not canon accurate or not, Belos should wear outfits in the same style those saint statues do.

Me: I haven’t been this scared since you’ve last taken control of my tumblr account.

Sunniva: What happened to the wild witches and demons like Hooty?  What did the witches think would happen on the Day Of Unity? Taking over the human realm?  

Lomes: If the latter is true, Belos’s hatred makes more sense.

Me: It’s white boy stuff and white boy stuff doesn’t make sense.

Lomes: Dana is a white girl so it’s white girl stuff.

Sunniva: Stop blaming Dana alone, there was a whole team-

Lomes: She’s the big guy, and besides, she did the same to Belos, our favorite mysticist-

Sunniva: Dana is a real person-

Divorce arc no fun </3

*******************************************************************

Jorah: Okay, what is Belos planning do once he goes to the human realm? Is he planning to stay in it or just checking it out before he dies or something? Did he not even know, like the Collector implied?

Sunniva: I like the idea of him going to live in an eco village.  

Lomes: He was going to take down the rich and him being defeated leads to a Trolley sort of problem- 

Me: Belos is letting Jesus take the wheel on that one. But yeah, they should’ve at least elaborated on his plans more.

*******************************************************************

Jorah: Belos does not take well to family abandonment.

Lomes: The series writers killed Kiki long before this. The fact they conveniently made her know all this supposedly secret information just made canon events so much more confusing.

Me: Kikimora is a real figure in Slavic mythology, like how the TOH Titans bears similarities to the Titans in Greek mythology. In universe, did the Boiling Isles influence these myths or, somehow, was it the other way around?

Sunniva: The fact we know these questions won’t ever be answered and yet we ask…

Jorah: It’s All Futile.

Me: It’s All Pointless.

Lomes: William Gold is cooler than Wilbur Soot.

…

*******************************************************************

Me: Stop doing thumb wars, you’re missing the episode. 

Lomes: We need stimulation. 

Me: So do I, and I only get it from people liking my content even though it also makes me disgusted and uncomfortable! At least talk while doing it, silence makes me incredibly uncomfortable and I myself struggle to fill it myself. I am constantly searching for what I need from others.

Lomes: Bro who asked.

Me: I will force you to watch more series with me, like the anime version of Turnabout Big Top.

Jorah: That’s the good one!

Lomes: You’d suffer, since you would have to write our reactions and organize them and deal with your hyperempathy.

Me: I wish I had a whip, I like hitting and breaking things.

Lomes: You would probably hit yourself.

Me: Yeah, I would, but that makes it more fun.

Sunniva: Guys, we are missing the plot! And I just lost…

*******************************************************************

Sunniva:  Belos is still an asshole even when trying to convince people. 

Lomes: You are what you eat.

Me: “ I’m gonna give all these witches lobotomies!”

Sunniva “Stop it… get some help…”

Jorah: The fact even Steve left meant his plan was doomed from the start, Belos should’ve focused on getting him back.

Lomes, while throwing a Swedish Fish at me: I found Steve the Ceasg!!

What happened next stays in Oakland baby.

*******************************************************************

Me: I don't think Belos being cocky is a good enough explanation for his actions, specifically for all the times he loses, in my opinion. His desperation makes sense but it’s not fleshed out enough to feel justified. I like the idea of him knowing Luz is lying and just saying anything she can to avoid turning into stone but taking her hand anyway. Because Luz wasn't much older than he was when he first came to Isles and even he had moments of temptation. She was stranded alone with nowhere to go and was taken in by a wild witch who taught her black magic. Sure, she's "crazy" in his eyes but her "sense of reality" has been warped but if she can go home maybe she still has a chance to be saved. Plus Belos heard her apologize to her mother before in the season 1 finale and he wouldn’t want to break apart a family. Anything to potentially save a human life. Sure, Belos still gets tricked because he didn't expect her to have a sigil, but it then becomes a mistake he made due to being merciful for once in his life.

Jorah: You are so right. *Places something in my hand.*  Have a Sanrio copper penny.

*******************************************************************

Lomes: The Collector returned from the shadow realm!  [ Noelle’s] home.

Sunniva: It’d be cool if they were from the celestial realm.   

Me: Our northern circumpolar star! Play honeysuckle lavender butterscotch!

Jorah: Mad favorite gendervoid. 

Lomes: Mae is the ultimate gendervoid.

Jorah: Imagine if the Collector was so bright he overtook the screen until all the characters’ eyes adjusted to them.

Me: Imagine if there was a moment where Cole and Belos just paused to look at each other, being in the same plane and being able to see each other’s full forms.   

*******************************************************************

Lomes:“ I need you back Cole, how else am I supposed to get the waiter to realize I asked for no pickles.”

Jorah: Awww, look at him and his jelly bean toesies!~

Me, watching Belos get splattered: It’s a better death than he got in the finale, especially if we are viewing the Collector through the lens of them being a representation of wild magic.

Jorah: I thought the Collector wasn’t trying to kill Belos, splattering was a non lethal yet tortuous punishment. They still cared for him, with all the memories of centuries spent with him, in the sense they wanted to understand why he did that. And for Belos to have somebody know how he is and face betrayal similar to what Caleb did to him yet still want to stay, it’d be something irreplaceable. 

Sunniva: I like the idea that Belos will never go away entirely, like the toxic ideologies he’s supposed to represent, methinks.

Lomes: Pog. I don’t think there’s anything to this story. 

*******************************************************************

Lomes: I'd take this for the permanent finale, however dark it is. 

Jorah: You are a fan of the likes of Replica.                         

Sunniva: Even if it’s not well written, TOH needed a happy end.

Lomes: I don’t care if it’s better for society or people or whatever to have a happy end, I care about good writing, morals attached or not. 

Jorah: Yeah, art should exist for its own sake and trying to censor and cut it up to make it palpable to others insults its existence.

Sunniva: Nothing exists in a vacuum-

Me: Guys, guys.

I just  realized… TOH is bad. Not DSMP bad, not Daganronpa 3 bad, not even OPM bad, but… bad.

Sunniva: Acceptance is the first step.

Me: This is the last of the TOH stuff for now, thanks for coming along for the car ride but it’s over now.

Jorah: Back to the void we go. Schrodinger’s existences. 

Sunniva: Check out the Coffin of Andy and Leyley!

Lomes:Unfollow Noelle.

Baiii

[ghosts-and-blue-sweaters]

k I'm gonna go off with this. have fun. also I always accept headcanons as answers. canon is forever on thin ice in this house

Philza: 8, 12, 16, 33, 37, 49

Wilbur: 1, 4, 9, 14, 21, 23, 24,

Ranboo: 2, 3, 5, 8, 15, 17,

Tubbo: 2, 5, 6, 13, 16, 30, 36, 48

Tommy: 1, 4, 6, 14, 16, 20, 29, 50

Philza

Unpopular opinion about them

Gosh I don’t know… oh! He doesn’t know nothing about cooking! I feel like a lot of people have this idea that he’s Good at making meals, but I just don’t see it. He can’t cook nothing, man! A lifetime of immortality can’t change that! It’s ingrained into his very being.

He can, however, make incredible tea.

Crack headcanon

He puts up photos of Wilbur and Techno and Tommy all up in his house like a grandma <3

Everyone is embarrassed about it except Tommy, who gazes at himself with pure adoration and loudly declares that Phil should have more pictures of him.

Wilbur is more sad than anything, really. He looks around and sees who he used to be, and he knows he’s not that guy anymore. He kinda misses old-Wilbur.

Techno Avoids the pictures At All Costs.

Deepest darkest secret they won’t even admit to themselves

That he did kill Wilbur, and that he had a choice in the matter. He was pressured, sure, and he was confused and overwhelmed, but he still did it. He chose to do it.

Something guaranteed to make them cry

See, this one’s tricky, because Phil doesn’t really cry ever, at least around other people.

I feel like even if something awful and traumatic happened, like Wilbur’s death, Phil wouldn’t really cry about it, at least for a long long time.

This one really is tricky lol

I don’t know, maybe seeing Kristin after a long while. He is so in love with his wife and she is beautiful and he loves her and he doesn’t know what to do with all that love so it just comes out in tears <3

What they really think about themselves

I honestly feel like Phil is chill. He knows he has faults, but he also knows he has strengths, and overall I genuinely thinks he’s chill with himself.

However. That does not stop the Anxieties that come at night.

Favorite toy as a child

AWWWWW THIS IS CUTE

Something wooden, I think. A little block he’d carve or chew on, or a little figurine he’d play pretend with.

Or like. A piece of rope. Or a wilted celery stick. Something odd.

Wilbur

Canon I outright reject

Easy: that he was born and raised in Utah.

I accept that he went to Utah later—took me a bit to accept that but I’m chill with it now—but I just can’t come to terms with him literally living in Utah for his childhood. Like. What the heck. No. Stop it.

Nah, he grew up somewhere in the Minecraft world (not the Dream SMP) with his dad and his dad’s friend and it was next to a lake/beach and that’s where he met Niki as a child and that’s where he met Sally as a teenager and that’s where he packed up and left for a new land. Not freaking Utah. The heck…

Favorite line

“I was very sad.” — The pure vulnerability and the utter lack of fancy words and eloquent monologue and the sadness in his voice… it shows a side of Wilbur that we don’t see all that often.

“But I never did quite forgive myself.” I- okay. Look. It’s like

DO YOU KNOW HOW OFTEN THAT LINE HAS PLAYED IN MY HEAD AT NIGHT. TORMENTING ME. MAKING ME LIE AWAKE IN HORROR AND PAIN. GAH.

It’s not “forgiving myself was hard” or “I don’t know if I’ll ever forgive myself”. No.

It’s “I never forgave myself.” KEY WORD HERE IS NEVER!!! HE NEVER FORGIVES HIMSELF!!! EVER!!! UNTIL THE DAY HE DIES HE NEVER FORGIVES HIMSELF!!! DO YOU KNOW HOW HEAVY I FEEL BECAUSE OF THIS???!!!! HELLO????? NEVER???????

Scene that first made me love (or hate) the character

Honestly? I can’t remember!

Now that I’m thinking about it, I find it strange that I like Wilbur so much in the first place; he’s not really… my type, as far as fictional characters go. I don’t typically like the dramatic, main character-esque guys, which Wilbur most definitely is.

Huh. Dang now I’m confused lol- why do I like him so much??

But yeah, I genuinely can’t remember what made me start liking him lol

CC!WILBUR, ON THE OTHER HAND- I REMEMBER THAT!!!

I watched this video and this video and thought to myself, “Oh, he’s a good singer. That’s nice. Oh wow, and he’s weird too?? Hey.”

The rest is history <3

Most heroic moment

I think that time where Wilbur heard Schlatt being awful to Niki and decided to hurry down, showing himself in plain sight, and told Schlatt to leave her alone and hurt him instead was really heroic. Wilbur knew that if he showed himself, he could be captured or killed, but he did it anyway to try and save Niki. Just… yeah. Cool moment.

Drink of choice (not just alcoholic)

Hot chocolate! He loves that stuff! He dislikes tea, which angers Technoblade a Lot, but he will absolutely consume a mug of hot chocolate, even in the middle of summer. Tommy think it’s weird and wrong.

I saw a post one time that was like, “c!Wilbur is the type of guy to say ‘this water is spicy’ while holding a can of coca-cola” and I think about that a lot.

If they were a scented candle, what would they smell like?

Like… smoke and spring rain and coffee and a teeny bit of chocolate and whatever food he’d had that day (he is a messy eater so he constantly Smells of Food)

The candle would also smell dirty, because Wilbur does not shower (cc!Wilbur has confirmed this). It’s a problem.

Most annoying habit

I don’t find this annoying—it’s kinda fun—but he’s a messy eater. After every meal, he’ll either have food smeared on the edges of his lips or fingers covered in crumbs or spotty stains on his clothes or bits of food stuck between his teeth, or all of those things at once. He gets significantly more messy after he’s revived, and it annoys Tommy greatly.

Ranboo

A canon or headcanon hill I will die on

I like the idea of two ender-ladies taking care of him when he was little <3 I just think it’s cute :)

Obscure headcanon

Hrrmm…

He likes to eat yogurt. And fries. Together. And he’s so innocent about it, too. Tommy is disgusted and Tubbo is proud.

Best personality trait

He always tries to put people first—even when that turns out to be an unwise decision, it’s so incredibly clear that he cares so so much. He doesn’t want anyone to be hurt, and he wants to try and help everyone, and I think that’s lovely!

Unpopular opinion about them

I kinda don’t think I have any? I don’t have many opinions at all about Ranboo, not gonna lie.

Worst thing they’ve ever done

I’m kinda coming up empty alsgaksgkags

I mean… he went along with Tommy and they burned George’s house together, and that kinda… caused the whole Exile thing. So that wasn’t great.

So maybe that?

Quotes, songs, poems, etc. that I associate with them

Not Waving But Drowning by Stevie Smith and I’m Not Here For You by Emma Hamel!

Tubbo

A canon or headcanon hill I will die on

He loves bees <3

Best personality trait

He thinks through all his options very carefully before he makes a decision, rather than just jumping in headfirst. That’s kind of a rare trait on this server lol

Worst personality trait

Sometimes, he can put so much thought into things rather than people. He put l’manburg over Tommy, even though Tommy was his best friend.

And like… I get it, but… people are more important than things, aren’t they?

Dumbest thing they’ve ever done

Strapped Ranboo to an electric chair and dropped an anvil on his head alsvakdgoags

Like… there really wasn’t a point to that. It was just an experiment on Tubbo’s side lol

Deepest darkest secret they won’t even admit to themselves

That he caused Tommy’s exile, and that he caused Tommy to consider suicide, and that he caused months of anxiety and loneliness and fear for Tommy. He caused that.

True, Dream is the one who made things so bad, but Tubbo still put Tommy in Exile to begin with. It’s still his fault.

Sleeping habits

Very quiet sleeper! No snoring or sleep-talk or anything.

It always takes him a while to fall asleep; the blankets are too hot or too rumpled, and he’s not comfortable enough, and his pillow is too flat. He’ll wrestle with the bedding for a good while before laying flat on his back, breathing hard and staring at the ceiling.

And then he still can’t fall asleep, because his mind is racing.

Very long nights for Tubbo, yep yep.

He also has a habit of not realizing how late it’s getting, so he’ll stay up until 2am working on a little invention before Ranboo makes him stop.

But Tubbo always wakes up early! He hardly ever sleeps in!

Their favorite season

He likes spring because of all the flowers, and he loves summer because of the bees, and he likes autumn because of the cool weather, and he likes winter because of the snow.

Hmm.

I think I’d say he likes summer the best. Everything is green and colorful, and there’s bugs everywhere, and Tommy is always going on walks and exploring and he brings Tubbo along, and there’s swimming and shady trees and picnics with Ranboo, and Michael gets lots of ice cream :D

It feels happier than the other times.

Scariest moment of their life

Being killed by Techno.

Oh, and looking up at the tower on Logstedshire.

He’s had a real fun life, hasn’t he?

Tommy

Canon I outright reject

The whole… amnesia/dying thing. 0-o

Honestly, I don’t really see any of the finale streams as canon. They just… don’t fit. They’re not right.

Nah, Tommy gets some other ending—a happy ending, mind you.

And maybe somehow he can get Ghostbur back 😭

Favorite line

HE’S GOT SO MANY GOOD LINES WHAT THE HECK!!! Okayokay, let me look at my notes real quick…

“People used to tell me it wasn’t my place to speak, and then I decided that everywhere was my place to speak, and ever since then, my life has gone so much better.” — I feel like this encapsulates his personality near-perfectly lol

“I remember when I’d listen to these songs, and I’d feel something.” — He’s talking about Animal Crossing music.

“Don’t call me a broken record. If anything, I’m a sturdy record.” — Yes <3

Dude, I’ve got so many other quotes saved lol he’s such a Great Talker I love him.

Worst personality trait

Gahhhhhh

Sometimes, he doesn’t know when to stop. He gets so caught up in the thrill and excitement of doing something that he fails to see how it could hurt someone in the future.

Most heroic moment

Honestly, one of the first things that comes to mind is when Ghostbur’s about to die; Ghostbur is really panicking, and he’s scared and crying out, and Tommy is also really hekkin scared, and it’s awful.

But even in the midst of all that, Tommy still takes the time to help Ghostbur calm down by counting to ten. He didn’t have to do that, but he did.

I don’t know, I think that’s pretty heroic.

And also when he gave Dream the discs so that l’manburg could be free! I could tell it was really hard for him to do that, but he chose to be selfless and give them up anyway :’)

Deepest darkest secret they won’t even admit to themselves

I feel like Tommy is pretty honest with himself and wouldn’t not admit something he’s done wrong. Hmm…

Maybe that he caused Ghostbur’s death, albeit indirectly. The only reason Ghostbur died was because he was doing what Tommy wanted him to do.

I think that probably weighs on Tommy a bunch.

Scars

A stab wound in his back from his first death, an arrow puncture in his chest from his second death, and lots of scars scattered about from his third death (he doesn’t like to pay attention to those).

In addition, he has lots of smaller scars from smaller fights, including a little line across his middle finger that he got when he was a kid. He… quite likes that scar lol

I think when he got his first scar as a little kid, he was pretty excited about it, and would flaunt it around and brag about it.

But then, once he realized that the scar would be there forever, he got sad :(

Tommy just seems like the type of guy that always has a bazillion band-aids on him. That’s one of my favorite headcanons, actually :)

Eating habits

Contrary to popular belief, he’s quite a neat eater! He doesn’t get all messy like Wilbur does.

No no, Tommy eats (most) of his food with a fork and he’s very polite and makes sure to wipe off all the food residue from his face with a napkin. Very polite Tommy Innit.

He really likes pasta, and fresh fruit, and burgers. He’s kinda lost his love for hot dogs, but they’re okay. He loves ice cream. He really likes sweet tea. He Dislikes lemons (gross!).

So basically he’s from South Carolina.

A memory they’ve blocked out

Like I said before, I think Tommy is very honest with himself and doesn’t try to hide things away.

Oh. Oh wait. Oh ho ho, now I’m thinking about ANGST

He’s probably “forgotten” about a time that Wilbur hurt him in Pogtopia. Like… physically. Wilbur probably didn’t mean to do it, but he did, and it hurt Tommy, but Wilbur would never do something like that, so Tommy had to have imagined it, and the mark on his face is just a coincidence, and it’s not real, Wilbur would never do this, he wouldn’t… he wouldn’t do this? Would he?

No. He wouldn’t. He would never.

Wilbur didn’t do that. The mark on Tommy’s face is just a coincidence. It’s not real.

:)

[bonesandthebees]

Wilbur thinks that Niki is pissed, but that’s probably only the tip of the iceberg of emotions she’s feeling. I’ve already talked about how she thought that he only just started looking. But hearing how long he spend looking for her drags up all the emotions about being left again.

And her break down is just so well done. The solem conversation about the facts until Wilbur mentioned not having a choice and having had to leave her behind. Then Niki snaps as the anger and betray floods back. And it hurts and the build of her thumping her fists against Wilbur’s chest until she says [“I thought you were dead!”] I’m glad she gets hugged after this because she absolutely deserves it.

She spend the entire time since Wilbur left until hearing a rumour that he’s alive thinking that he was dead. Bee, why. That poor girl. Anyway, this is also where the time skip becomes relevant. Niki has had enough time to realise and accept that there was nothing Wilbur and Tommy could have done. This probably has to do a little with the thinking that they were dead. And then relief at finding out that they are alive. Either way it makes it easier to reunite with Wilbur.

And just her telling herself that Wilbur betrayed her to try and cope with the fact that she thinks he’s dead. To try and make it hurt less. Because she really didn’t know. No one told her. They made it out but she didn’t know and she might have thought that they stayed too long trying to save her and didn’t make it. Not knowing what happened to them is so much worse than if she had seen them get caught. But in the end they were fine.

(8/10)

-🌲

yupppp her being pissed is only the tip of the iceberg. there's so many unresolved emotions she has about wilbur. her betrayal, her worry, her fear, the lingering trauma she still has from the invasion as a whole—there's a LOT going on in her head when she talks to wilbur. and it slowly just drags up all those old emotions she's tried to shove down over the years

aaaa i'm so glad you liked the way i wrote her breakdown. i wanted it to be clear how overwhelmed she is with everything. how she's feeling ten different conflicting emotions at once. seeing wilbur again just brings all these old feelings back to the surface and it only takes the tiniest push for her to completely fall apart. because more than anything, she's so relieved to see him. so relieved that the rumors were true, and he's actually alive.

she needed that hug so so badly poor girl :(

and yes finally the readers understand why there needed to be a time skip!! she needed that time to reflect and accept that there was nothing tommy and wilbur could've done. that leaving her wasn't their fault. because again, when the invasion happened, she was 19 years old and didn't know what was going to happen to her. the closest thing she had to a family were tommy and wilbur, and they left her behind. she was terrified, and she needed time to process what happened and accept that it wasn't their fault for leaving her. it took a LONG time for her to come to that conclusion (think: c!niki's secret city kind of 'arc' on the dsmp) but she eventually accepted it and made a kind of peace with it. but it wasn't proper closure. not until now.

she really didn't know :( no one told her anything in that cell so she genuinely thought they had died. poor stars!niki has really gone through the wringer

[shubblelive]

— SECRET ADMIRER

— summary : niki liked putting notes in her crush’s locker during high school, it felt like a safe way of confessing her feelings. now an adult and living with that same crush, she works up the courage to send just one more note.

— genre : fluff! niki's a little anxious for the first bit but it gets better

— warnings : coming out scene (goes good!), swearing, mentions of eating/food, mentions of periods, reader is afab and uses she/her

— pairing : cc!nihachu x fem!reader

— featuring: cc!nihachu, cc!tommyinnit (mentioned), cc!tubbo (mentioned), cc!aimsey (mentioned), cc!ranboo (mentioned), cc!wilbur soot (mentioned)

— pronouns : she/her

— word count : 2.3k

— note : my first niki fic ever ahh!! niki's said that she's pansexual but just calls herself bi because it's easier to explain, but i've called her pan in this fic. if she says that she prefers to just be referred to as bisexual then i'll definitely change that. reader is a lesbian in the fic, but has only just come to terms with it.

She didn’t know why you hadn’t been home a lot lately, but Niki had a sinking feeling it was her fault.

It had started with you claiming you were going for runs in the morning, then when she was usually streaming you’d claim you had too much work to do to join her. Then you started skipping meals with her, which would make her worried if it wasn’t for the fact that she’d seen you eat. Just not with her. All of those things by themselves, while disheartening, weren’t anything to lose sleep over, but then you went out in the evening and didn’t come home until the next morning without so much as a text.

You and Niki had been best friends since you were kids. You told each other everything, from when you got your first period to when she got her first boyfriend. You were a mod in her chat, though you usually joined her for streams a lot more since you’d moved in together. Normally, if something was bothering you, you’d take some time to process it before confiding in her. But it had been a week since Niki had even spoken to you in person, and three days since your most recent text, even though you slept three feet away from her. 

Well, except for last night. She didn’t know where you were last night. Your car was gone when she’d gone to bed, and you hadn’t responded to her messages. When she got up the next morning, you were still gone. Or maybe you were gone again; there was a note on the kitchen counter.

Hi Nik,

Sorry about this, my phone died and I had to run out again. I’m safe I swear, so so sorry for not texting earlier. Gonna be with some friends for the next few days so you’ll have the place to yourself. Miss miss miss you.

You’d put a heart after your name, and Niki spent far too long looking at it. It wasn’t the first time either of you had done this. During high school, when one of you would have your phone taken off you by your parents, you’d get to school early and slip her a note. 

She did the same, but not for that reason.

You still had all of Niki’s letters, albeit you’d shoved them away and forgotten about them now. At the time, you’d been so excited, but that was years ago. She knew they were in a box in your closet, all signed the same way. Your Secret Admirer.

It was cheesy, she knew it, but it was also safe. Any other sign-off could have been linked back to her, and that would have been disastrous, especially since your school was small. News of her sexuality would spread like wildfire, and then she could run the risk of permanently losing you. 

She’d never actually talked about her being pansexual with you before. She didn’t know how to broach the subject and, after she’d started gaining a following, she assumed you’d find out from the internet. Despite the fact that she knew you would never judge her for anything, there was still that niggling feeling that telling you would end your friendship.

She couldn’t say any of this to you, though, especially since you weren’t there. She sent a quick ‘Love you, hope you’re having fun. Call me if you need’ text that you hadn’t opened, and streamed for a few hours instead, hoping to take her mind off it.

But when she finished up, she was looking for someone else to raid, settling on Tommy. As she went into his stream, she was met with you.

It wasn’t just you and Tommy. Toby, Ranboo and Aimsey were there too, and she had to hide her physical reaction to not alert the stream. She finished up her stream and resisted the urge to call you.

Why were you avoiding her?

You finally got home the next day, one of Ranboo’s hoodies on. She was sitting at the kitchen counter on her laptop, and you attempted to breeze past her with a quick hug and an excuse for needing a shower before she spoke up. “What’s going on with you?”

You looked so tired and stressed, that for a second she felt bad. She was reading too much into things, she was sure. You and her were together practically every second of every day, of course you wanted to spend some time with other people. But you sighed and rubbed a hand over your face. “I’m sorry, Niki,” you said, sounding so upset that it scared her.

She furrowed her eyebrows and you came and sat beside her. “I’ve been… I don’t know,” you shook your head, not knowing how to explain it in a way that wasn’t silly. She sat there patiently until you’d gotten your words sorted. “I’ve been trying to figure some things out lately, and I needed to be somewhere else. Don’t get me wrong, I love our place, it’s my home. You’re my home. But I think for me to kinda sort stuff out I needed to be away,”

“Sort what out?” she asked tentatively, not wanting to push too hard.

“Well, I’ve been thinking about this for a while,” you were fidgeting in front of her, and the thought made her sad. It was a nervous habit; you were never nervous in front of her. “And I wanted to tell you, but I think I just needed to figure it out before I could put it into words,”

She was trying so hard to be patient, but the longer you talked the more worried it made her. 

“I think I’m…” you shook your head, not happy with how uncertain you sounded. “I am a lesbian.”

Of all the things she thought you would say, that certainly was not one of them. She launched herself at you, and you faltered. “Thank you for telling me,” she said earnestly. “I love you, so much - of course I do. I thought you were mad at me,” 

You laughed and hugged her back. “No, no. I’m sorry I’ve been so shitty,”

Niki shook her head. “It’s okay. Thank you so much for trusting me with this information,” she didn’t know how grateful she was that you trusted her enough with information that could potentially ruin your life. 

“Thank you,” you replied. “For being the most wonderful person that I know. I’ve been really shit recently, and I had to talk to people who kinda… understood what it was like, and I just needed to get outside more,”

You didn’t have to explain it to her, but you needed her to know that it wasn't her.

She just nodded and hugged you again. "Don't apologise for needing time to figure yourself out," she said, cheek pressed into your shoulder. "It's okay. I love you,"

"I love you too," you said, squeezing your eyes shut tightly as you held her.

After that, you were less distant. You weren't comfortable enough coming out on social media, but you'd started going on the occasional date. While you didn't stream, Niki's fanbase absolutely adored you, and you'd appeared on others' streams too, like Wilbur's, Jack's and, of course, Tommy's.

She was so proud of you, so glad you were comfortable enough in yourself to go on a date with another woman, but at the same time it made her stomach twist. 

She knew she had no right to be jealous, but she couldn't help it. One of your dates had walked you to the front door and from her position on the couch, Niki saw the way you flushed as she kissed you on the cheek.

You weren't confiding in her like you would when you were dating men, but that was because you didn't want to tell her that it had been going badly.

Niki had been so endlessly supportive of you ever since you came out, but there was always the chance that she could turn around with "it's not working because it's with women." 

So you both suffered in silence, but you were more or less back to your normal dynamic. Once, a few weeks after you'd come out, the two of you had been streaming, and you noticed a comment saying how cute you guys were, asking if you were dating. Neither you nor Niki commented on it, but someone else did — someone with text- to-speech.

Guys, just because Niki's pan doesn't mean she's dating every girl she streams with. They've mentioned how they're childhood friends, leave them be.

After the stream, you'd brought it up while doing the dishes. "Hey, did you hear that one TTS message earlier?"

Niki was poking around with the last of her dinner, and she hummed, not looking up.

"Are you… you know?" She looked up at you, and you recognised the uncertainty in her eyes. You rushed to reassure her. "It's okay if you are, of course! You just never said anything,"

Niki bit her lip and pushed her bowl away. "Yeah. I am," 

That was the last either of you spoke of it, but Niki felt something change between the two of you that she couldn't place.

Movie nights where you'd normally sit separately ended with legs tangled together in the middle of the couch. Times when she'd move past you would involve gentle touches as she brushed past. 

You were in the back of an Uber one afternoon when you'd made your move, snaking your arm across the backseat to lace your fingers through hers.

You stopped going on dates, and Niki didn't want to be too presumptuous, but she felt like this was all practically an invitation to make her move.

But the thought of actually doing something completely terrified her. So, she did it the way she knew best.

You had been out with Aimsey, the two of you striking up a quick friendship since you'd met him on stream. She was actually the first person you'd confided in, knowing that she was a lesbian herself. They'd given you plenty of advice, and you found them easy to talk to, and he swiftly became one of your closest friends.

You shrugged off your hoodie, which had actually been one of Ranboo's that she'd stolen and collapsed on your bed. Your head hit the mattress and made an unfamiliar crinkle sound. 

Without getting up, you blindly looked around for whatever it was with your hand, assuming it was just a random piece of notebook paper you'd left. Instead, it was an envelope, pastel pink with neat black handwriting on it.

It wasn't the first time you'd seen an envelope like this, but the last one had been the last year of secondary school. You slid off your bed and searched your closet for a minute before finding the rest of them. The handwriting matched — not exactly, but enough.

Hi, 

I'm not really sure of the best way to do this, so please bear with me. You're my best friend, you have been for years. I can't tell you how much I value your friendship, and I would never want to do anything to ruin us.

After everything with Wilbur, I decided that I didn't want to be shipped with my friends any longer, not when I saw how people were. But when I saw that donation shipping me with you, well. It didn't feel like it did with Wilbur.

You mean the world to me, which is why I need to be honest with you.

I like you a lot. I have for a while now, but ever since you came out as gay, those feelings have gotten stronger. I guess it's because I realised I might have a chance.

I know this is a whole lot, so you can take as much time as you need. I hope I haven't ruined our friendship, and I'll be there for you in whatever way you want me to be.

Love, 

Niki (Your Secret Admirer)

God, how did you not see it? You spent years copying that exact handwriting and you'd never put two and two together. 

You folded the letter carefully, just as it had been before, before sliding it back into the envelope. You placed it in the box with the others and ventured down the hall to Niki’s bedroom. You could hear music playing faintly, which meant she most likely wasn’t streaming. You knocked and when you opened the door she was sitting at her computer typing a discord message to someone. You waited until she’d sent it and closed the tab until you spoke up. “Hi, Nik,”

She gave you a nervous smile, unsure if you’d seen the letter yet. “Hey,” The two of you looked at each other for a second, nervous smiles on both of your faces as you tried to think of what to say. “Everything okay?”

You nodded at her, before finally giving her a proper smile. “Your handwriting hasn’t changed much since high school, has it?”

You were rewarded with a beaming smile in return, Niki’s cheeks turning the exact colour of the envelopes she’d given you. 

[unfoundhoney]

a sister’s sacrifice ; part three ↠

↠ platonic!c!sleepy bois inc x fem!reader , platonic!c!tubbo x fem!reader ; angst just angst

↠ masterlist

↠ part one ; part two ; part three ;

↠ @leafyturtle @basheverythingyesterday @terribletoothbat @bestioe @junoblad3 @machiebach @ok-honey

when considering the deaths of the people on the dream smp server, yours is the hardest

schlatt was detested by all when he’d died

few people still truly cared for wilbur when he met his end; the man he once was was long gone by then

but you

you never changed

you were a constant for so many & immovably kind to the rest

selfless, giving, caring

even when you just wanted an escape, you came to the aid of your brothers

you gave the ultimate sacrifice & paid the price

everyone mourns you

when the battle is won & dream locked away indefinitely

once everyone has come down from the high of freeing themselves from dream’s reign, the server goes into a state of grieving

there’s no denying your death

they all saw the message in chat

you’re dead

those that were close to you took it hard

niki was narrowly stopped from burning down the bakery you encouraged her to open and helped build

eret put her emotions into work on a memorial in their museum for you

even under the egg’s control, bad & ant put the eggpire aside for you

of course, those who took it the hardest is your family

when ghostbur learns of your death, he’s distraught

he doesn’t quite know how to handle the information

he protects your home & only allows people to enter when he supervises them

tommy took a while to move past his anger & deal with the fact that you’re gone

tubbo ran off to start snowchester

he chose to distract himself rather than truly process his emotions, even if you’d always done your best to break that habit of his

now that you’re not around, who’s to stop him from letting himself be numb to it all?

techno is another one of your family members who chose to barely acknowledge your passing

he became somehow more monotonous & emotionless

and phil

...

there’s no word for a parent who loses a child

wilbur was gone & of course it messed phil up to be the one to take will’s last life but by that point his son was gone

but you

you’d always been such a genuinely good person

phil did so little for you as a father

he was so absent

he never apologized to you for that

he never told you how much he loves & appreciates you & everything you’ve done to keep their family together when he couldn’t be bothered

it’s a few hours after he received the news from ranboo that all the guilt for everything he had ever put you through hit him

he broke down in his kitchen while trying to distract himself by organizing his cupboards

but all he could think about was you

you & your never ending kindness & compassion

he was never a father to you

yet you never hated him

why couldn’t you have hated him?

it would hurt less to lose you if you hated him; it’s what he deserves

he’s unworthy of your love

but he can only dwell so long on you

you are given a proper funeral

you’re buried by the seashore, somewhere between l’manberg and tommy’s abandoned vacation homes in an open field

the sever members plant so many flowers, your gravesite becomes a flower field

but soon, life goes on

it will only hurt for longer to draw out the mourning period

it would do no good for anyone

besides, you wouldn’t want the server to be sad for your sake

techno supposes it’s for the best that you died

he does his best to move on, filling his days with resource gathering and upgrading his tools, weapons, and armor while trying to think through his emotions logically

as much as he liked you

as much as everyone liked you, you were too good

you were the best of them

fate is not kind to heroes

“hello!”

technoblade is not an easy man to sneak up on, let alone scare

the greeting itself isn’t want startles him

it’s turning toward the voice to lock eyes with you

you who is dead

techno is not proud of the sound he made when he saw you but you of all people wouldn’t make fun of him for it

he just stares at you, slowly realizing what’s happened

you look desaturated, the color drained from your clothes

your skin is grey & almost translucent

you’re a ghost

“y/n.”

“hello! who are you?”

techno tells no on one of your ghost form

he even keeps the rest of the server a secret from you

he leads you to your old home & leaves you there w/ ghostbur

he hopes your and ghostbur’s combined amnesia will keep you out of harm’s way i.e. the rest of the server

he visits you occasionally but mostly leaves you be

you live happily with ghostbur for a while

he is very glad to have you back

his memory is nearly as bad as yours, so the story of the server & what happened to you when you were alive is only given to you in bits & pieces that are near impossible to fit together

it was only a matter of time before someone came to visit your house

“...y/n?”

it’s tubbo who finds you first

or he finds your ghost

(tubbo) y/n! oh my god! you’re a ghost! you’ve come back!

(you) hello! *whispers* ghostbur, who is this?

(ghostbur, whispering obviously) that’s tubbo, one of your other brothers i’ve told you about

(you, whispering) oh, right

(tubbo) how long have you- oh, this is incredible! i have to tell tommy! he’s been so sad since you died; he’ll be so glad to see you!

tubbo messages tommy, who is skeptical but reluctantly comes to your house anyway

but there you are

your ghost anyway

which is good enough, honestly

(tommy) y/n!

you catch him in a hug easily, even if you’ve never met him before

(tommy) you’re alive!

(you) no i’m not. i’m a ghost!

techno happens to check in on you when tubbo & tommy are there

bad news for technoblade: you’d told them about techno leading you here

meaning: tommy knows techno hid you from him & everyone else

needless to say, he is not too happy about that

(tommy) you hid her! you kept her away from us!

(techno) tommy, you have to understand-

(tommy) i don’t have to understand shit! you hid her from us! you lied to us!

(techno) tommy-

(tommy) you kept her from everyone! you’re selfish and you’re a liar and you’re horrible and-

(techno) i did it to protect her! she’s been hurt enough protecting others; it’s our turn to protect her. the only way we can do that is by leaving her alone

(tommy) she’s my sister

(techno) your sister is dead, tommy. for once in her life, let her have peace

tommy gives up on techno & goes to you instead

(tommy) y/n! y/n, we can bring you back. we can revive you. well, dream can revive you but he’s in prison so he has to do what we say so we can bring you back. we can be a family again. don’t you want to come back?

(you) ...no

that

...

that isn’t what tommy was expecting

(tommy) what?

(you) if alive y/n comes back, i won’t exist anymore. and i’ve only just got here. i don’t want to go yet

(tommy) don’t you understand how much y/n means to me? y/n has to come back. she has to. she’s so important. not just to me but to, um... tubbo as well! right, tubbo? don’t you want y/n back?

tommy looks to tubbo for some backup but the shorter boy looks away

(tubbo) i think we need to let y/n go, tommy

the betrayal that fills tommy’s chest is soon gone as he locks eyes with techno

tommy knows techno is right

you’re too much of a good person

you’re too willing to sacrifice yourself for others

even as a ghost your kindness is blinding

this server will only drain you of everything you have yet again

he will drain you of everything you are

he’s just tried to convince you to cease to exist to bring back the former version of yourself

(you) i’m sorry. it’s just- i’ve heard there are these really pretty blue flowers in the swamp biome that i haven’t got to see yet-

(tommy) no. it’s fine. i’m sorry. i-... i should go.

tommy leaves your house & tubbo goes with him

even if tubbo caught on a bit sooner to techno’s reasoning, he’s still concerned at his friend’s sudden change in character

(tubbo) tommy... are you alright?

(tommy) ...i really want her back

(tubbo) i do, too. but she’s gone

(tommy) she doesn’t have to be

tubbo can’t argue with that

(tommy) but... maybe it’s for the best

(tubbo) really?

(tommy) yeah.

(tubbo) but just earlier you were telling me about your plan to get the revive book from dream

(tommy) techno’s right, tubbo. all everyone- myself included- has ever done to y/n is take. and she’s given everything

(tubbo) because she loved us

(tommy) as much as she loved us and as much as we loved her... the only thing we’ve ever brought her is pain. i think now... now is her time to rest.

(tubbo) ...that’s very pog champ of you, big man

tommy had planned to visit dream as many times as it took to get the revive book location off of him so he could revive you, but now he’s accepted that he needs to move on

he needs to move on from you & dream & everything dream has put him through

he decides to pay one last visit to dream, put him behind him, & never look back

he’s ready to start a new chapter in his life, one without dream

and the first one without you

but then he’s locked in the prison

two weeks pass

nearing three weeks & tommy still isn’t allowed out of dream’s cell

he’s irritated and annoyed and most of all he’s scared

but he can’t let dream know he’s still afraid of him, that’s why he pisses dream off enough to the point of being beat to death

tommy begs him to stop

but then he’s gone

everything is dark

black

empty

nothing

is this what death is?

conscious in absolute nothingness?

tommy’s feet feel the ground beneath him

his senses come back to him

it’s still dark but he feels as though he can see again

where is he?

heaven?

no, probably hell

or maybe neither?

both...?

what the hell happened?

the first thing to break the silence is the voice tommy has known since he was an infant

the voice of the person who raised him

the voice of the person who has always been there for him

the voice of the person who he has finally let go of

your voice

saying one simple word

“tommy?”

[anynerd]

Being Pregnant with (Dsmp) members Baby: hc's

Dream

When you Told him you were Pregnant he thought it was some type of Prank video and started to search for the Camera in the Room,

But you said it wasn't a Joke and looked very serious he believed you.

He wanted you to Move in with Him which you said Yes to.

And wanted the Baby to be held a secret since he didn't want the baby to have a Childhood filled in the Media.

And when the Baby was Born he made sure to spoil her/him to rotten.

Even if you said not to over done it he just made the Excuse

"Let them enjoy their childhood, it's only once in a lifetime"

Overall you guys lived Happily ever After

c! Eret

He wanted to Marry right when you said you were Pregnant

Eret was so Happy and Nervous at the same time,

He didn't want the Baby to have his Eyes.

But when the Baby turned out to be with his Eyes he regretted what he Said-

Because the Baby was cute as ever!

He bought the Baby it's own Crown just like his so they could be Twinning.

She also gets very Protective of you Two since you guys are now Family.

I could say you guys lived a Fairly Tale like in the Books.

c! Wilbur Soot

After Sally died he thought he wasn't gonna find someone again. But it was until you came along

You guys have been hiding your Relationship but when both found out you were Pregnant

The first thing you guys did was Tell Philza and his Brothers.

Fundy was the Last one you guys told and he pretty upset you guys hid your relationship from him

But at the Same time Fundy is excited like his Dad cause there is another Family member!

Wilbur's Singing;

When you can't fall asleep you lay down on your back while Wilbur sings you a Song while holding your Bum.

(It's actually so cute in my Mind!?!?)

And Wilbur promised that he wouldn't let anything happen to you and his Family.

[thespoonisvictory]

ok so firesnap made this very good post earlier today about the problems with niki and wilbur’s dynamic, and I have so much brain rot over it it’s getting it’s own separate post.

my general thesis for it is that I don’t mind niki having less going on as a character in s1, it’s that it’s not expanded on in s2 that’s the kicker.

In s1, even pre election, we get a lot more for Niki than is generally credited. Her relationship with Wilbur is central to her character, but that makes sense, because that’s her hook into the story: Wilbur wants her to join because they are friends. Cool! While it’s initially a bit awkward, their cc dynamic immediately gives a sense of warmth and closeness to their relationship that Wilbur doesn’t really have anywhere else. He’s close with Tommy, sure, but in a more mentor/sibling way, and it fleshes him out a bit more to see him bond with someone else. Leading up to the election, we also get more key traits of Niki’s character

1. She’s kind and compassionate, shown through her general demeanor, but also through the creation of her bakery and her deep care for Fungi.

2. She’s very independent, and doesn’t rely on others to form her opinions. We can see Wilbur is probably her closest friend, but she befriends Eret and basically demands that Wilbur be ok with it because it’s her choice, and literally runs against him in the election. It’s an interesting depth to her character that doesn’t really get brought up, and while it is related to Wilbur, it’s still individual development and characterization

3. She’s very vocal about her beliefs, even at a cost to her safety. She is the one to make the giant flag showing her alliegance, she is the one to be most vocal and aggressive towards Sapnap during the pet wars, she’s vocally against Schlatt before nearly anyone else.

None of this stuff is dependent on Wilbur, or is weakened without it. Wilbur is the catalyst for her joining, but her character is still well established without him and enriched with him. This isn’t your typical “woman only exists in the context of a man” to me, because, well, Niki is a strongly characterized firecracker of a character who has strong individual moments and arcs (in s1 at least...). 

Throughout Pogtopia, while there’s definitely room for her to do more, especially post festival, I’m not mad about her character then, either. We see strain placed on both Niki and Wilbur as he’s forced to leave her behind, her anger with her treatment under Schlatt, and her stress upon seeing Wilbur’s deterioration. We’re reminded that she’s close to Wilbur, and Wilbur’s kindness to her serves the narrative purpose of reminding us that he is very much still the same person from before, and maybe could be again. It’s not the show stopping arc that other characters have, but it isn’t trying to be. s1 is very much Wilbur’s story with other arcs added in, and Niki being less “important” doesn’t bother me.

What s1 is for Niki is good setup. It’s quite common in media for side characters to be introduced earlier in relation to main characters, and to be more strongly developed later. The best example I can think of is Nico Di Angelo from the Percy Jackson series, or Jaime Lannister from asoiaf. If you left Nico after the third/fourth book, or Jaime Lannister after the first, they would come off as incomplete and a bit one dimensional, but when they start to shine, they really start to shine. Jaime in particular comes off as a plain villain until we get his pov in the third book, and suddenly he’s getting development galore.

s1 sets Niki up perfectly for that: she’s got a strong personality, a set of beliefs and distinct worldview, and a close relationship to a key player who just died, not to mention the beginning of her building her Secret City to keep refugees safe. It could’ve included her more, for sure, but what’s there is a solid base.

In the beginning of s2, we have a Niki forming new relationships (Puffy, namely), navigating the world without her narrative crutch (Wilbur), and generally being in the perfect spot to begin coming into her own as a character, espeically with the Secret City stuff. I’ve talked extensively about the opportunities for her character: being part of the egg arc, getting involved with Eret, being in the new l’manburg cabinet, actually exploring a spiral arc.

But instead, it’s all just... dropped. Call it cc!niki being busy, not being communicated with, etc etc, the fact of the matter is there. Niki as a character completely drops off, and has been kind of fumbling since to find her footing as a character. Unfortunately, that leaves her relationships with Wilbur as the only throughline of consistency, and suddenly Niki goes from a character who started off Wilbur-centric but was veering off in her own direction... back to Wilbur-centric again.

I don’t hate what’s shown! I think it could really work, but the issue is that Niki and Wilbur’s s1 relationship was never built up to carry Niki through three seasons, it was a catalyst for the existence of her character and a nice grounding bond for both of them to have. It’s not that the s1 stuff is bad, it’s that the follow up offered was never carried out, so instead of:

s1: Wilbur heavy with relationship to Niki in the background and s2: Niki heavy with relationship to Wilbur in the background

we get:

s1: Wilbur heavy with relationship to Niki in the background and s2: Niki’s barely there and it’s mostly central to Wilbur.

There’s something very sweet about the Wilbur Niki dynamic that really appeals to me. I like the way Niki’s confidence contrasts with Wilbur’s insecurity, the idea of loyalty to a place through a person, the intimacy of being the last person someone trusts and of course the concept wearing each other’s clothes. The festival scene alone is one of my favorites ever (just like the brain rot over Niki defending Wilbur on inauguration day vs him defending her at the festival... chefs kiss). It’s a good relationship that sets up Niki to be a strong solo character, as well as s1 lore in general setting her up. 

But that relationship never should have been the entirety of her character, and that’s why it feels lopsided. It all comes back to s2 failing to deliver on Niki as a character, but I don’t think it’s the fault of the Wilbur Niki interactions or dynamic

tl;dr: s1 Niki, and Wilbur and Niki’s relationship is good and should be kept, we just needed to add more solo Niki in later seasons

[enderwoah]

ORIGINS SMP HEADCANONS (because i love them): SEASON TWO EDITION BAYBEEE

(this is really long ENJOY :gun:)

tommy

he is phil's son smile

phil's most recent son at least

he's got like one more somewhere

he picked this one up off the dangerous streets a few years ago and he's been sticking with phil ever since

his wings are small- not too small to fly, but they're untrained to the point where it would take a lot or work to get him off the ground

but at first, he didn't really seem to want to learn all that much?

(he has three scars on his face- all from trying to learn how to fly when he was younger)

(he gave up after the third one)

("if at first you don't succeed; try, try again" is his motto, and he tried all three times)

but!! phil and wilbur are very persuasive :) and now that he knows he can fly, he's not going to rest until he does

he's a little manipulative to get what he wants sometimes, but can you blame someone that lived on the street for so long?

he had to do that to survive! it's not his fault.

(it's a great excuse.)

he laughs like a kookaburra amen

he squawks when he gets scared

he chirps. he tries not to because it makes phil go absolutely bird-brained but he does sometimes and he hates it.

tubbo

NOW'S YOUR CHANCE TO BE A B[GUNSHOTS]

god he is. so fucking annoying (/rp)

he simply does not know when to stop

he ignores social cues to see when someone is annoyed

(see: he can read social cues. he does read social cues. when you get annoyed that's when he starts being more annoying, because you're more likely to give him what he wants to get him to shut the fuck up.)

he loves talking to (at) people, especially people he doesn't really know that well

so he's trying to be friends with ranboo, but the absolute prick keeps trying to avoid any actual conversations, so that's not working

he buzzes when he gets excited-happy

his fingertips are completely blackened and horrendously sharp, functioning as ten individual stingers

they don't do any actual damage but he's working on that

techno

wither hybrid (??)

how can you be a wither hybrid?? nobody got down and dirty with the wither

he's an experiment

the reason we haven't seen him yet? he's staying away from the main area of the smp

he doesn't want to ruin its natural beauty with his withering effect, so he keeps to himself on the outskirts of the smp

which sucks

withers get health from killing things

he's not fully a wither, so he gets energy from being around people and sort of draining their life force a little bit

he feels terrible when he's with just one person because they are Literally his life support and it makes the person feel like shit

when he's with a big group of people its great!! he only has to take a little bit from everyone and its barely noticable!!

but then there's the wither part. so he has to stay away.

he's always tired

always exhausted

he's a farmer, so taking it from animals works, but god does he miss people

but he can only visit a few times and for very short

(he's afraid that one of these days he'll get so bad that the next time he sees someone he'll accidentally kill them)

(it already happened once. he's blessed that he's been forgiven, even made friends with by the victims, but he doubts he'll be able to pull that off again with no consequences like last time)

wilbur

phantlings are dead elytrians, and given that wilbur was phil's son...he's a phantling

he died in the late 50s and was a librarian when he was alive, so he's very possessive (ha) over all of his things

you should never ask to "borrow" anything from him, he will hound you about it until you give it back

it's best to just say that you want something from him to keep

even if youre going to give it back

just for your own peace of mind

phantlings can feel fear and get a genuine feeling of elation from scaring people

of course, sometimes its unwelcome (feeling large amounts of fear from someone they care about in a bad way just makes them pissed)

but for the most part, wilbur loves appearing in the corner of people's visions just to jumpscare them a few minutes later

all in good fun, of course!! it's just hilarious :)

being the lighthearted, fun guy he is, he's not particularly secretive about his method of death

"how did i die? well, it all started -- ended -- on november 16th, 1958!"

"i walked out of the library late, since i took the shift for my wife since she was feeling sick and i worked there anyways,"

"the streets were dark and only lit up by gaslamps...and out of an alley...appeared..........."

techno.

he didn't mean it. wilbur isn't at all mad at him (anymore)

he was starving. he didn't know that one touch would be enough to fully revitalize him...

and murder wilbur where he stood.

sneeg

has details on everyone on the server

you Cannot Hide Shit From Sneeg

its impossible

if you find of his any shittly little mouse holes then you're doomed

you find one and there are twenty more

he's under your floorboards while you're having your important discussion about trapping the nether roof

sucks to suck ig??

he seems to be the favourite of many, which is weird since he rarely goes out of his way to actually talk to many people

he's the only person that tubbo doesn't actively try to annoy (or maybe he just doesn't find tubbo's antics all that annoying)

he's the only person that ranboo stays around (or maybe he stays around ranboo- he and Phil seem to be the only ones not off-put by his slightly sadistic and whiny demeanour (not counting tubbo, who annoys him anyways)

phil seems to be more protective of him than he thinks is normal (he lets sneeg ride on his shoulder while travelling, so he doesn't really complain)

niki is completely protective over him (again, not complaining)

contrary to popular believe, he does not get high from sugar

if anything he gets

high-per

(get it)

(high-per)

(hyper)

he's literally just a nine-year old getting a sugar rush leave him alone

phil

take the normal "bird-brain" headcanons and multiply it by like sixty-four

and you've got origins phil

he can't see glass- or, rather, he can, but it doesn't register that 'hey, this is a solid surface i am going to slam into'

its very funny for everyone else but he's pretty sure he has permanent brain damage from the blunt force trauma

if there is ANYONE on the server who dares to chirp, bird or no, they must understand that they are signing away their privacy and giving phil the right to go absolutely bonkers over them momma bird style

(shoutout to tommy, wilbur, ranboo, and fundy for having to suffer through this)

"oh??? you don't have wings?? you don't have feathers?? omg?? then what's this im preening?? what do you mean im just braiding your hair?? nono this is preening smile"

god help you if you dare to have wings

poor tommy, wilbur, sneeg, and tubbo

phil can't help himself alright

do you think he wants to be any sort of protective over sneegsnag?

no!! but he cant stop himself!! sneeg might damage his wings if he keeps flying those super long distances!!! nnnno! carry the bug man!!!

it's weird, he's always had that protective sense over ranboo, too

but ranboo very obviously doesn't have wings, so he doesn't get it...

ranboo

yes ur a peasant

yes ur poor

yes im cooler than u

what r u gonna do about it

the enderdragon's son! partially a dragon, partially enderman, partially human (don't ask, his other mom is a hybrid), all spoiled brat!

given that he has a ton of dragon genes, he's extremely possessive over his stuff and Yes He Does Do The Hoarding Thing

he has a pile of rings and gold chains and necklaces and most of his jewellery hidden underneath his bed

(if you ask him, no, he doesn't)

not to wear

just to Have

one time, fundy stole one (1) bracelet from the hoard and ranboo was sent into a panic for a good 24 hours

he wouldn't leave his cave and kept counting and recounting as if that'd make the missing piece reappear

(when fundy had to give it back because of the guilt, he expected to get his face bitten off)

(instead, he just watched as the prince was flooded with relief, telling him to get the hell out and nothing more)

it's weird, he has so much gold and even a crown, and yet here he is

living with all those people ^^^

truth be told, the enderdragon isn't a very nice dragon

nor is she a very kind queen

nor was the other queen

nor was her son

there was a mutiny in the end, leading to the dragon queen and her wife being killed brutally by the crowd of angered people

they went after their son next, who had ordered executions and worked servants to the bone just as much as they had

they cut off his wings in the middle of the square

he was sure he was going to die until a random person (a peasant) jumped up and yelled at them for publicly torturing a child

but ranboo didn't really catch all of it, given he was delirious from pain

he got to get some stuff quickly and escape with his life

this wasn't too long ago, either, so he's still trying to...adjust...to people talking rudely to him

(he's also trying to adjust to not having wings)

(hence why he hurls himself off the edges of cliffs and then has to teleport to the bottom instead of glide. he keeps forgetting.)

[stuff-from-the-void-matron]

Laurel Wreaths & Animal Teeth (11)

(c!technoblade x fem!reader)

(people showed chapter 10 some nice love so here’s chapter 11. sorry it took so long to get out. I threw my back out and doing just about anything has been physical torture. but I’m starting to feel better so here’s hoping I’ll write more soon. but remember, please comment and reblog. they keep me motivated! <3)

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Things settled down pretty well after the election. Almost unbelievably so. Wilbur pretty much completely disappeared afterwards. You felt worried and voiced your concerns with Niki, saying you hoped he wasn’t terribly upset he’d lost the election. You understand he no doubt felt incredibly attached to the title of president, and he may feel resentful of you for ‘stealing’ it from him. Niki smiled at you, glad you were being kinder about this than the other contestants would be in your shoes, but sighed and said,

“Yeah, he’ll probably be upset for a while. But I’m sure he’ll come around to accept you as the new president.”

You gave her a thankful smile, even if you didn’t quite believe her words. But then you paused and wondered if maybe, despite all your reservations about the brunet man, it was possible to smooth things over with him? Maybe all you needed to do was sit and have a talk with him. Perhaps he’d gone insane in the original timeline because both Schlatt and Quackity were… well, for lack of a nicer term, total dicks to him. They were openly antagonistic to the former president, banishing him and his younger brother from the very nation they fought and died for, which no doubt added to his crumbling mental state after L’manberg chose a new leader.

But maybe you could be different from Schlatt and Quackity. Honestly you had no desire to be cruel to Wilbur, though you would not put up with any of his BS, and honestly you hoped to have a neutral relationship with the man. So you decided right then that there was no harm in trying. Your smile brightened and you nodded and said to the blonde woman,

“You’re probably right, he just needs some time. Maybe after a few days he and I can have lunch and just talk. Clear the air between us. I’ve never been president before so I’m sure he’d be a great help in getting me better settled in!”

Niki was super glad you were being so chill about all of this. She knew you were the best choice for president. That’s probably why she’d voted for you. (yeah she’d heard your little speech and was really moved) But she’d never tell Wilbur that. He fully believed she’d voted for Coconut2020, and to be fair she had intended to until she was so moved by your speech. You had a way with words that just put the listener at ease.

“Yeah, I’m sure things will be alright,” Niki replied with a cheerful smile.

-0-

You settled into being president pretty well all things considered. There wasn’t as much work as you were expecting there to be for a president. But perhaps your only frame of reference (the US president) was a bit different than your current job (l’manberg president). L’manberg was super small actually. Especially compared to the United States. Hell, Punz’ house was almost as big as L’manberg if you remember right. 

You’re glad there wasn’t much presidential work to do at that moment. Because you wouldn’t have had time to juggle that work plus going back to your village and packing up some of your stuff in your ender chest before telling the villagers (and azo) what actually happened while you were gone. Which had been an ordeal in itself. You felt bad for just leaving to a new place so out of the blue. But you felt obligated to complete the role of president given to you. You’d feel less obligated if there was some other option you felt safe passing the torch to. Someone not a child. That left out every minor on this server and Wilbur. 

Part of you considered Fundy and Niki for the job but another part of you doubted if they’d be able to handle it. Honestly they shouldn’t have to either. It’s no secret that being president is one of the most stressful jobs a person can have. Being in charge of the safety and well-being of a group of people is enough to turn anyone’s hair grey. Even if the group was just like 10 or so people like L’manberg had. You remember seeing a post about pictures at the start and end of American presidents’ time in office. And each president looked at least a decade older in each after picture. Complete with wrinkles and grey hair. Those happened in FOUR years! Their jobs were so stressful that they aged 10+ years in only 4 years.

You were pulled from your thoughts by Tommy practically shouting “We’re here!!” as you all made it over the hill that led to your village. The first thing you saw was the towering bamboo wall around the perimeter of the place. You’d been so in your own head that you’d actually forgotten about the two boys on either side of you. They’d insisted they accompany you to your village as ‘presidential bodyguards’ despite the fact you said you would be fine. They’d practically demanded to go, to ensure the ‘new prez’ didn’t get attacked on the journey. Amused and touched that they cared, you’d finally relented and let them come along. You’d only be gone a short while anyways. At least that’s what you told yourself. 

It didn’t take long to pack up everything you wanted to take with you to L’manberg. You put all the nice gifts the villagers gave you (as well as a couple of the banners you made) and some of the stuff you made and packed it away into a shulker box you pulled from the Creative inventory before picking up said box and putting it inside your ender chest. Then you just picked that chest up and tucked it safely in your inventory and you were basically done. With packing anyways.. You still had to talk to the villagers and let them know you had to move away for a while. But you doubted they’d be heartbroken or anything. Maybe bummed out but they’d understand. It’s not like they’d be lost without you. They’d been living in this world long before you showed up and they’d probably be here long after you left.

Then you were ringing the village bell. And like every time you did the villagers all poked their heads out from wherever they were to see who rang it and what was going on. And when they saw you they brightened and hurried over to see what was happening. They gathered around you and the bell, murmuring curiously between themselves. You sighed and cleared your throat, gathering their attention to you before you hesitated, not entirely sure what to say. Should you explain the entire story from start to finish? No, probably not. That would take a while and you felt like they’d get bored fast. But just blurting out that you were leaving felt too abrupt and blunt. Though your indecision ended up not mattering because Tubbo finally lost patience with the silence and just let the metaphorical cat out of the bag in his usual laid back candid way.

“Are you gonna tell them you’re moving away?”

Oh that caught the villagers’ attention and suddenly you were surrounded by displeased grunts and hums, like surround sound stereos. You sighed and confirmed yes, you were. So with the news out there you started explaining what happened the day before, or at least a shortened version of it. You mentioned how you’d gone to support Tommy, placing a hand on his shoulder as you said this. Then you said how you’d sorta advised everyone to vote for who they felt would lead them smartly, and how you guess they took that as you entering the presidential ring.. And finally how you’d won the election by some points and how you’d not wanted to reject their trust so you’d accepted the job…

“Reader is our new president!!” Tommy practically shouted, clearly excited. 

Though from the disgruntled murmurs from the villagers they didn’t seem happy.. But you told them it would be okay. You’d come and visit them as often as you could while juggling your new job. But even with that promise they didn’t seem happy. Your shoulders slumped a bit and without thinking you said,

“I’m not happy about having to leave the village and move away either. But I made a promise to the people of L’manberg, one I intend to keep.” 

Despite not feeling the best about this you were determined to keep your word.

“Besides, it’s not like I can just pack up the village and move you all next to L’manberg!” you said with a flippant wave of your hand.

But the idea didn’t sound too bad to the villagers. They basically worshipped you as their guardian deity. So if loading up all their possessions and hauling them to a new place meant they got to stay within reach of their deity then so be it. They’d still be living in squalor if it hadn’t been for your kindness and generosity, so they wanted to follow you wherever you went. Be it sunny skies, harsh rain, freezing snow. 

So they all made excited grunts and you blinked at them, catching on to their train of thought pretty fast. You shook your head, missing the confused looks the two teen boys were shooting between you and the villagers, and said they couldn’t follow you to L’manberg. Hearing this made the boys’ eyebrows shoot up and they started asking if the villagers wanted to come live in L’manberg. You sighed and said they seemed to, yes, but it wasn’t viable because there was nowhere for them to live! Moving them all on a spur of the moment thing would be reckless. Not only would the journey be very hard on them and take quite a while but there’s also no homes available for them in L’manberg. 

“We could make some houses for them if they want to move to L’manberg!” Tubbo said with a little grin, not seeing the issue with them coming over.

You rubbed a hand down your face, careful not to jostle your mask too much. But then you sighed and finally caved in. 

“Okay, you can all move next to L’manberg,” you began, but before they could cheer you cut them off with, “BUT! They can’t leave today. I refuse to let them take the whole long journey to L’manberg just so they can be homeless when they get there.”

You said you and some others (who you would pay) would build a new village next door to L’manberg for them. And once it was complete you would come back and help ferry them all over safely. But you might have to take them over in small groups to avoid hostile mobs and stuff. Though despite all the risks the villagers seemed quite happy with everything. So you pulled out your notebook, the same one you’d used when you first showed up to the village actually, and made a note to start construction on a new village to either the North or East of L’manberg. Or whatever side had better building room. But now that that all was settled you bid the villagers goodbye, saying you’d start construction as soon as possible.

With that out of the way you decided to pay a visit to Azo. You missed the adorable little piglin and hoped she was doing okay. Your boys followed you into the Nether, asking what you needed from there so badly. That made you pause and realize they’d never officially met Azo! You smiled down at them and said you’d sort of taken up guardianship of a little piglin girl who lost her parents. You’d expected questions and some comments but got nothing but silence in return, which left you feeling a bit confused. But when you glanced over at the boys you saw Tubbo looking lost in thought and Tommy looking mildly upset. This caused you to stop short, which made them pause and look back at you. 

“What’s wrong?” you couldn’t help but ask.

But they both waved you off, Tubbo with a soft ‘what do you mean?’ and Tommy with an almost harsh sounding  ‘nothing’, both of which didn’t sound the least bit convincing. So you tilted your head to the side and in a firmer (but still gentle) tone you asked again what was wrong. Tommy’s nose scrunched up and he crossed his arms, adamantly saying nothing and asking if you all could hurry up and see ‘this kid’ since you had to hurry back to L’manberg. Tubbo tried to piggyback off Tommy, his smile attempting to be brighter as he agreed, saying he wanted to meet your ‘new kid’. That’s when it hit you..

“Are you two upset that I adopted a kid?”

Tommy wasn’t very subtle with his feelings, his loud “WHAT?! NO!” didn’t convince you of his supposed ‘uncaring’ regarding the situation. Tubbo however reacted slower than his friend, like he was processing what you’d asked before he gave a laugh that sounded too stilted to be genuine and denied being upset, saying that was ridiculous. Tommy actually started walking away, heading in the direction you three had followed when you were together here last time, with the goatish brunet watching him anxiously. But you called for him to stop and come back, maybe a touch sterner than you’d wanted. But when the blond came back to you he refused to look at you, just scowling down at his feet. You felt your heart ache at the sight and let out a calm breath.

You wrapped one arm around the blond’s shoulders and the other around his back, pulling him into a comforting hug. You laid your cheek on the top of his mop of hair, glancing down at Tubbo who was shifting between watching you both and glancing away nervously. Without much thought you removed the hand holding Tommy’s back and instead used it to carefully tug the brunet boy into the hug. They just stood there at first, still and awkward almost. But once Tubbo wrapped his arms around your hips and Tommy’s back his blond friend quickly caved and sunk into your warmth, wrapping his arms around you both tightly, like he was afraid you’d both disappear. 

You took a breath and gently began to rock the two back and forth, missing how Tommy’s eyes pricked with hot tears as he heard your steady heartbeat against his ear. After a couple minutes of just standing there relaxed into the hug you said quietly but with as much emotion as you could put into it,

“Tommy, Tubbo, please talk to me. I can do many things, but reading minds is not one of them.”

You felt your shirt become warm and you frowned and hugged them tighter,

“If something is bothering you two, if you’re sad or upset or angry then you need to tell me so I can maybe do something to make you feel better. I never wanna see either of you upset, so please… talk to me?”

The air around you three was unintentionally heavy, only the sound of fire crackling nearby broke up the silence. It was killing you to remain quiet but you didn’t want to push them to speak. That would just make them clam up and possibly push you away. So you waited, just holding and rocking them as you did. And your eyes brightened when your patience was rewarded.

“.... Why’d you have to go and get a kid?”

You half expected for Tommy to be the one to break the silence, he was always so against the quiet. But no, instead it had been Tubbo who finally buckled and voiced his thoughts. You couldn’t help but ask what he meant. And he sort of stuttered over his words, not sounding exactly sure what he wanted to say before he got his thoughts and mouth to cooperate.

“I thought you already-.. I mean you have us.. Why’d you-..”

If your heart could physically break like glass then you knew after hearing that it would be in a hundred pieces on the floor. You couldn’t help but pull them closer and bury your face between theirs, unknowingly letting out a softened keening sound. 

“I want you both to listen, just because I take another child under my wing doesn’t mean I no longer care about you two. I don’t think I could ever stop caring about you. You’re my boys, and I-....” here is where you hesitated, not wanting so sound weird but you continued,

“If you both want… I mean since neither of you have one to my knowledge… I’d happily be your mom.”

Shy isn’t exactly how you’d describe the two boys you’d begun to care for, but there was no other word accurate enough to describe how they agreed to your offer to be their mom. Tubbo gave an almost meek, “alright, sure” while holding onto your waist and Tommy gave a long-suffering sigh while trying to discreetly wipe his eyes and said, “I guess you’re cool enough to be my mum. Barely though.” That caused you to let out a loud guffaw, your grip on them loosening enough to where you could ruffle the blond’s hair.

“Ohhhhh, Big man himself thinks I’M cool? Very high praise~”

The heavy atmosphere lightened and your laughter had the two boys laughing too. But then a sly grin took over your face and you chuckled. The sound alerted the boys of your mischievous mood and they looked up when you started talking.

“Well, now that you’ve accepted me as your mom I’m legally obligated to do all sorts of ‘Mom Stuff’, I hope you realize that. Like making sure you both eat things besides bread and meat, make sure you sleep regularly, and do the spit thing when you’ve got dirt on your face.”

They gave you a look that was a mixture of confusion and mild disgust, and Tommy couldn’t help but blurt out,

“What the fuck do you mean by ‘spit thing’??”

Unbeknownst to him, he’d activated your Mom Trap Card and your grin grew into a smirk and you raised your hand, casually commenting that he seemed to have a bit of dirt on his cheek, and then you licked your thumb and moved it towards his face. He shrieked and practically threw himself backwards to avoid your spit covered finger. But you still had your arm around his shoulders so he didn’t get far. He rapidly screamed out a verbal blur of ‘nonononoNONONO!’ that had Tubbo nearly doubling over, howling with laughter.

Though his laughter abruptly cut off with a gasp when Tommy escaped your hold, causing you to turn your sights on him. He let out a noise that sounded suspiciously like the bleat of a goat before turning and running from you. You just cackled and chased after him, your longer legs giving you the advantage. You caught up with him before he knew it and lifted him in a backwards hug. Now it was Tommy’s turn to laugh at Tubbo.

But you did let him down, without cleaning his face, and smiled down at the pair and said sincerely,

“All joking aside… I think you two would make a cool pair of big brothers..”

Tommy took that and ran with it, saying of COURSE he would be! He was practically Tubbo’s big brother already! Which just caused Tubbo to argue with him that uh, NO, he was older than Tommy! So HE was the older brother out of the two of them, if anything! And oh boy that caused them both to go back and forth, arguing about who was the ‘older brother’ between them. Tubbo insisted it was him because he was born first but Tommy insisted it was him because he was taller. You just shook your head and led the bickering duo down the familiar path to Azo’s little ‘house’ you built her. And as you reached the open area you saw her outside the house playing with a couple other baby piglins. But when she looked up and saw you she squealed happily and all but sprinted over to you. You made sure to bend down and hold your hands out to catch her. 

She was so excited to see you again that she totally missed the two boys standing at your sides. At least until she heard them and then she stiffened and stared down at Tubbo from her place in your arms. Neither boy really knew what to say so you decided to intervene and put out introductions. You tapped her hand and smiled down at her, helping her worry ease a bit.

“Azo, I missed you! I want to introduce you to my sons! This,” you gestured to Tubbo, “is Tubbo. And this,” you turned your head and pointed to the blond on the other side, “is Tommy. They’re both very nice. And they wanted to meet you!”

You turned so you and Azo were both facing the boys and saw them smiling genuinely. Relief flooded you, thinking they were actually glad to meet the little piglin, unaware the smiles were more stemming from the fact you’d called them your sons so easily.

But you saw the wariness still on Azo’s face and worried she’d not like her new brothers. Suddenly you got a bright idea and your smile widened as you spoke up and said, 

“Hey, don’t you two have a gift for Azo? Maybe something yellow and shiny~?”

Tubbo’s mouth dropped down into an ‘o’ as he realized what you meant. Then he elbowed Tommy and then pulled open his inventory and started looking through it. Tommy glared at him, moving his arm away after getting jabbed, but then his eyebrows raised when he saw his best friend pull out a gold ingot from his inventory. Then he understood what you meant and hurried to look through his inventory as well. Thankfully he did have some gold ingots leftover from when he was crafting golden apples.

Azo perked up when she saw the gold ingot Tubbo had taken from his inventory. And when he offered it to her she couldn’t hold back the happy snort she let out as she joyfully accepted it. You giggled at how she admired the saffron colored bar. And when Tommy extended his own gold ingot you laughed when Azo’s little tail began to swish back and forth in glee as she took that one too. She looked so cute as she admired her new items. You rubbed her back and said,

“See? They’re pretty nice, right? Why don’t we go have something to eat? And we can hang out.”

The tiny piglin seemed more than happy with that plan and snorted happily. You carried her towards the house, her little friends having long since scurried off. The teens behind you followed your lead, joining you in the house. You sat Azo down and suggested she show off her toys to Tubbo and Tommy, which she started doing gladly. The two played with her while you brewed some tea and crafted some cookies. Chilled rosehip tea and shortbread cookies were on the menu and after it was all done you laid it out on the table before calling them over. The boys were all too happy for the chilly drink, the cold giving them reprieve from the heat of the Nether. But Azo was shocked by the cold, not having experienced something like this before. It took a bit of explanation to get her to give it a try, and despite how it made her shiver she seemed to really like it. And cookies were always popular. So the plate was emptied in a flash.

As you sat with the three, listening to Tommy brag to Azo about how ‘cool and tough’ he was and how he’s practically a hero in the Overworld while Tubbo interjected with contradictions, you felt yourself smile serenely; truly happy where you were right then.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

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