#villain sbi au

[that-sweet-jester]

Beware the Angel of Death

Yet another entry into my superhero au, I just wanted to draw Philza being a scary villain.

Also I couldn't pass the opportunity to draw younger Phil with his emo hair.

[pancakebluess]

no one’s ever burnt you - never grow up

- SBI hero / AU

- WIP

Unlike what his family seems to think, Tommy’s not stupid . He can see the way they ignore the news, he can hear how the windows slid open at night- the shadows that passes by the blondes own before they leave. How they wince and hiss at covered wounds when they come home, how they ignore his questions as if they were poison.

He’s not stupid.

He knows he lives with three criminals, three criminals who appear on the news every other week, claiming a persons life as of it was nothing . He’s not stupid, he sees how Puppeteer has the same curly hair as his brother, how Bloodhound snarls just like his own- and how Nightwing holds the same hair that is a perfect match to his.

Tommy knows he lives with villains; but, he doesn’t think his family realizes how he winces at his own wounds, how his window is left a little open every night so he can slid through, how on some days, he’s so tried that he can’t even get out of bed from hours and hours of training. While he knows that his family is the feared syndicate, he doesn’t think they realize that he’s the new upcoming hero - Apollo - and that they laugh with one of the people they fight every week.

They don’t notice how they live with an underaged hero.

☀︎︎

Tommy pours cheerios into his bowl, frowning once realizing there’s no milk. “Dad forgot to go shopping’, I guess.” Huffing, he grabs a spoon and sits down, eating dry cereal, as he watches amusedly as Wilbur stumbles down the stairs. He snickers, the brunette shoots him the middle finger, which, rude.

“Nice bruise,” Tommy speaks through a blob of messed up cheerios, pointing out the black eye that his brother sports. “Fall down another staircase?” He’s being sarcastic, and Wilbur seems to recognize that as he burrows through the cabinets. “Something like that.”

Tommy, offhandedly, feels some level of guilt at the bruise - knowing the only reason he has a bruise is because Apollo had used Puppeteers face as a springboard last night in a last ditch effort to get away. Oops. He swallows down a chunk of cereal. “Stay away from staircases,” the blonde mumbles out, flicking a dry cheerio at the brunette. “Gremlin.” Is hissed out, as he gets another middle finger in response, and a comment half mumbled about rabies.

☀︎︎

Tommy realized he lived with three villains when he was thirteen, digging through his brothers closets in hopes of a new sweater - instead finding the masks of the most feared villains amongst the city. In all grown out honesty, he couldn’t bring himself to be scared, more so numb at the information. Because in the end, it made sense, the whispered conversations when he left the table- the nights where he wasn’t invited out with the rest of them; it made sense.

Despite that, he used to be bitter at the fact, bitter that he was left out, abandoned every planned out movie night - instead of watching some flashy new musical per Wilbur’s request, he watched as his family destroyed, or nearly get killed on live television.

He used to be bitter when he was thirteen, cold at the fact he was left out; now, he was fifth-teen and a had secret of his own, an unwilling hero.

[sapphire-blossoms]

au where top hero!phil assigns his hero friend techno on a mission to spy on vigilante!tommy. techno accepts the mission and soon learns that tommy is just a good kid with even better intentions. eventually, he comes out of hiding and approaches the boy in his civilian form and starts a connection with him, feeling guilty whenever he has to report everything he’s learned to phil. 

(plot twist is that phil gets attached to the idea of who tommy is based on techno’s descriptions of him too) 

cut to villain!wilbur finding out about emduo’s attachment to tommy and kidnapping him. crimebois ensues, and while neither comes to a consensus on what is the right thing to do for the world as villain and vigilante respectively, they still become friendly with each other. 

he’s let go soon after, and now he just has connections to both the top hero(es) and villain.

[youreyeslookliketheocean]

Chapter summary:

Wilbur sat down on the bed. “I almost watched you die to one, Tommy. I can’t teach you to fight, knowing that something like that might happen again. You’re my little brother.”

“And you’re my older brother. I still let you do this, knowing what might happen. Knowing what it feels like to… to hurt.”

“That’s different.”

“It’s not.”

Wilbur’s gaze drifted up to Tommy’s eyes, contemplative, and Tommy put effort into looking the part. He tilted his chin up, pushed his shoulders back, tried to bleed confidence as shimmering and brilliant as… well… gold.

“I’m not scared, Wilbur,” he said. “Please just let me help.”

****

Final chapter!!!! I hope you guys have enjoyed this fic as much as I enjoyed writing it :)

[twentytworoses]

COMMON TROPES IN SBI SUPERHERO/VILLAINS AU FICS THAT I ABSOLUTELY LOVE

The trope where Tommy is the sidekick to the Number One Hero, Dream, and they have a close-knitted bond, plus points if their relationship is unhealthily co-dependent. Reading Tommy struggle as he's torn between the loyalty for Dream or Wilbur and maintaining his duty as a hero never gets old.

Villain Siren Wilbur Soot is my favorite. I know it's been overdone in many, many fics—but having the power to brainwash people through voice and words just fits his character so much, it's like butter and bread, it just works perfectly.

The trope where Tommy is simply minding his own business but finds a wounded, passed out villain on the street— usually its Wilbur, sometimes its Techno— and going on a mental struggle on whether he should save them or call the cops. Bonus points if Tommy has healing powers.

Where Las Nevadas is a neutral ground away from normal laws; your status as vigilante, superhero or villain doesn't matter, Quackity is in charge once you step foot to his domain.

CLASSIC SUPER POWER FIGHTS. VILLAINS AND HEROES DUKING IT OUT.

The dramatic secret identity reveal. Either it's anticlimactic and sort of meh or holy fuck, i need a breather. The latter I'd like to put in example that scene in Everything Costs by AmberRunnel. If you read it, you guys know what I mean.

Where Tommy is an underage minimum wage worker and one of the SBI supervillain/heroes takes an interest on him. Later on the story, They'll persuade him into adoption— illegally, and maybe forcibly— and shower him with affection, Tommy's response to it would depend on how shitty his past and self-esteem are.

Tommy getting kidnapped. I don't need to explain this one lmao.

[nomsfaultau]

I was chatting w a buddy about cursed character concepts, and she posited a character who has a crush on someone they deem subhuman, judge Frollo style. Internal conflict, potential catalyst for character development both positive and negative, incredibly messed up dynamics. Unfortunately my brain has one setting (thinking about Fault) and now I present one of my more cursed (completely noncanon for the love of God) thoughts:

Webb has an (extremely unrequited) crush on scp Philza

Does it completely ruin his character? Yes. However…I can’t stop thinking about it. Evidence (with Fault spoilers of course):

Webb uses pet names for Philza (refuses to acknowledge he’s a person with an actual name)

They watch movies together (videos of Philza’s kids being abused)

Tries to get alone time with Philza (by separating him from his family)

Monologues about how much he’ll miss their relationship while amnesticized Philza blinks at him.

if you think about it the amnestics arc was basically Webb reloading on a dating sim to get the dialogue tree right. by giving Philza a lot of irreversible brain damage.

Webb lounges in his house drinking whiskey and thinking about Philza (murdering all of his friends and coworkers).

Webb is literally bisexual and ”””experimenting””” on Philza its basically canon already.

Philza, for his part, despises Webb and is waiting for the first opportunity to torture him to death. Which....oh you're consumed by vengeance? So you spend all day thinking about another man??

They're so. so clearly enemies to. enemies to lo. Okay I can't say it without choking but you know what I mean. Presumably. Look I'll be level, my publisher said I had to add romance to Fault to appeal to more demographics and I'm a struggling aroace. This is what y'all like, right? Villain x Hero? Attempted murder is homoerotic or something?

[issybettyx]

BEDROCK BROS AU

Tdlr; Tommy was born into a crime family and is forced into their ideals and pursuits since a young age. Aged 14, he finally goes to therapy without his brother and father knowing. Technoblade is a therapist, purely because he understands the human mind very well and not because of his terrible comforting skills.

Tommy: i have trauma oh and my family is like the most well known crime organisation the police havent been able to catch

Techno: chill, don’t worry man i’m here for you

Or; i listened to music again. And ‘Bust your kneecaps’ came on. And i kind of accidentally made it bedrock bros.

-- // weapons, trauma, blood mention, murder mention, death mention, terrible parents (bad parent Phil, i know, who have i become), arguing

Tommy wasn’t sure when his first heist was. He didn’t remember much of it, that much he was sure of. But he did remember the gut wrenching fear mixed with a determination only caused by the want for a father’s approval.

Wilbur had said he was 7, his mask didn’t fit perfectly but his gun fit fantastically between his fingers, and simply his presence was enough for news of The Syndicate’s newest and youngest member to spread faster than wildfire, and it was news stations’ top story for over three weeks.

Theories of who he was, how old he was, why he seemed to confident despite his young age and questions of why The Syndicate would take in a recruit so young.

“You were our ray of sunshine, Toms,” Wilbur told him with a grin that Tommy couldn’t help but return, accepting the hair ruffles whole-heartedly, “Simply you being there made the entire mission so much easier, I’m so proud of you.”

Maybe those words weighed too much for Tommy to let go, maybe he knew that if he told them how much he was truly against their actions he would never hear them again, and that fear was enough for him to keep his head high for the next seven years of his life. His name made it onto the villain rankings within a matter of months, dubbed number 15 aged 8. It was when Tommy was 11 he reached number 4, and aged 13 when he was number 3, just below his brother.

It had always been that way, Tommy being one of the best but never the best. Phil had always made sure he knew it, assuring him he was amazing at what he did, correcting his hold on the knife until it was perfect for flicking at his opponents, a smile on his face the whole time as he congratulated him. But the way he looked at Wilbur, with a brighter smile, with more pride radiating from his glistening blue eyes as his son burned down entire streets without a single fingerprint to lead it back to him.

Wilbur had always been better than him, and Tommy had come to accept that.

Well, he thought he had.

It was on Tommy’s 14th birthday that he went downstairs to find Wilbur muttering something into his phone, an angry lilt to the way he spoke that made the kid pause.

“No, not today,” he huffed, and Tommy could practically hear him pinching the bridge of his nose, rubbing the corners of his eyes and slightly lifting the glasses off his face in the process, “No, it’s my brother’s birthday, I’m not- dad.”

Oh, it seemed Phil wasn’t there that morning, how strange.

“Well one of us has to be here, he deserves a proper birthday and to be surrounded by people who love him, I’ll help you on fucking Christmas if it means I get to stay home today.”

There was such a firmness to his voice that made Tommy shiver, cupping a hand over his mouth to mask his shaky breaths.

“Fine, but you better be home for dinner.” Wilbur scowled, and the ringing sound of someone hanging up could be heard.

After a moment of deathly silence, Tommy finally walked out, forcing his face into a smile as he peeked his head around the doorframe. The moment Wilbur saw him, his smile widened, and he was rushing right up to him, lifting him up and spinning him.

“Happy birthday sunshine!” He cheered with a bright smile, and Tommy smiled back, knowing his grin could never rival the sun that was his brother’s. “Would you like presents or breakfast first?” He asked, gently landing Tommy’s feet on the carpeted ground and crouching down to his level, ruffling his hair as he giggled, attempting to swat the hand away.

They opened presents first, and despite the fact Tommy wanted to state just how much he adored each gift, thoughts kept swimming around his brain.

Why was Phil working that day? Why did Wilbur seem so off? Why was Wilbur better than him? Why, no matter how hard he tried, was he never enough for his family?

These thoughts led him to Google, seeing as no one else had the answers he assumed Google would (he’d asked Tubbo a random question once, and he’d replied with ‘just ask Google, Google knows everything’). The Google search led Tommy to something called ‘therapy’, which led him to standing outside of a random building two weeks later, taking shaky breaths as he thought everything over.

Everything in therapy, apparently, was confidential. Unless of course it put you or others in danger, but therapists were forced by law to keep everything else in the room within the hour slot given.

As long as Tommy was extremely careful and didn’t mention anything about evil plots and how his father and brother were the top two villains of L’Manberg, he himself being number three, then he could get away with it.

The doors swung open with his forceful confidence, and he flashed a smile at the receptionist as he sauntered over to her, leaning against a wall that was provided. “Here for therapy.” He stated, as if it wasn’t completely obvious. The woman looked him up and down, sighing before smiling, clicking a few times on her computer.

“Name?”

“Tommy Craft.”

“Age?”

“14.”

She looked at him in a strange way, raising an eyebrow that he only returned.

“Do you have parental consent?”

Oh, Google had told him about this too. Lying was never off his agenda, you learn from the very best in fact.

“Well my doctor permitted it, said I was aware enough of my treatment to understand I need it, my Mum dropped me off.” He explained, pointing out front to the car park. Only then did the woman sigh again, clicking again a few times before smiling back at him.

“You can go right in, down the hall and the second door on the left.” She pointed, and Tommy nodded, giving her a short bow.

“Appreciate you,” he told her, before strolling down the hall, keeping his head high and his shoulders lax, humming a melody his brother had played him on his birthday evening when their father still hadn’t gotten home (he got home at 2am, Wilbur was absolutely infuriated, Tommy was surprised to find he didn’t really care). Eventually, he found the door, reading the name plate on the door before knocking.

“Come in.” A deep voice called back to him, and Tommy turned the handle, smiling at the man behind the desk.

A buff man with pink hair wouldn’t be his first guess at a therapist; however, Tommy was a villain, not a horrible person. The man’s hands were crossed across his chest, his legs propped onto the desk showing how his boots didn’t have a speck of dirt, and a pair of reading glasses were perched on his nose.

In one aspect, he looked terrifying. His very small smile matched with his horribly white and completely uncreased frilled shirt painting a strange image, his folded hands too calloused to be anything normal.

In another aspect, Tommy could kick him square in the face and he’d immediately pass out.

“You must be Tommy,” he greeted, and he expected a handshake or something, but instead he just received a small gesture to a w chair with wheels opposite himself. “Take a seat.”

“What’s your name, Dr Blade?” Tommy teased with a grin, falling into the chair and leaning his ankle on top of his knee, sinking into the plush as the wheels rolled it slightly backwards. The man rolled his eyes, flicking a coin between his fingers - when in hells name did he pick up a coin?

“Techno. My name is Techno Blade, you can call me whatever.” He said with a shrugged, chucking the coin into the air and letting it land in his shirt pocket, smiling slightly with pride at his little trick. “How are you today, Tommy?”

It was in that moment that Tommy decided therapy was extremely strange and not for him at all. This man looked completely indifferent, he looked like he would rather be at home reading a book as he threw raw meat at his wolves, not sitting and asking how people’s days are going.

“Technoblade, today I am absolutely fantastic, I woke up, got breakfast, and came here.” He explained, bringing his arms out in a wide gesture. “Pretty remarkable day.”

The man huffed, seemingly amused by the sarcasm.

“Hate to ask such a blunt question kiddo,” Tommy frowned at the name, but decided against commenting on it for now. Didn’t want to upset the man on his first day meeting him. Totally wasn’t a choice made completely out of the rising fear in his chest. “But why are you in therapy? We ask this too all of our patients.”

“Patients? You make it sound like a hospital.” He scoffed, clearly avoiding the question in such a slick way only he and his brother were able to master. But Techno stayed quiet, watching him with a careful eye. Tommy frowned. “What are you doing in therapy? Huh? Technoblade?”

He still didn’t reply.

Strange.

“You’re creeping me out man, your eyes are practically red- oh my god you have red eyes, that’s so cool!”

Silence.

Tommy frowned further, sinking into his chair.

Why was he in therapy?

Google told him to be here, was his first thought. But then he remembered his English lessons, how the teachers always asked why, how they never took anything at face value. Techno seemed like an English teacher, he didn’t seem like someone who would take kindly to the answer ‘Google told me to be here’.

“Family stuff, I guess.” He replied, not one bit pleased, his face quite the contrary to the satisfied hum Techno gave him, picking up a pen and post-it-note, scribbling a few words before looking back up.

“Wanna draw?”

“I’m sorry?”

“This is the first session,” he started, folding his hands in front of him, “We don’t need to get emotional on the first day, it’s about building trust. Speaking of which,” Techno started, and Tommy already knew what he was about to say, “Everything you say in this room is confidential, I only take notes of things I need to remember for future sessions, however if you say something that could put you or others in danger I am legally meant to pass it on, do you understand?”

“No revealing my villain schemes to you, got it.” He replied, half seriously and half jokingly, but the man didn’t seem to hear the former part of the tone, huffing again.

“Well, if they include burying bodies, I know a guy.” He replied just as quickly, and Tommy couldn’t help his laughter, stealing a pen and a post-it-note, immediately sitting it to the arm of his spinning chair and doodling the first thing that came to mind.

The first session went… better than Tommy first thought it would.

There wasn’t any stress when be talked to Techno, and for just that hour he felt a strange safety in the chair as he listened to his therapist talk about polar bears. Tommy found himself rambling about moths half way through, paused to realise the man was listening so carefully that he involuntarily continued, smiling all the while.

After the hour of serenity, the house of chaos he walked into wasn’t exactly what he expected.

“Maybe my grades would be better if I wasn’t out fucking shooting up buildings!” Wilbur yelled way too loudly, and Tommy was glad he’d shut the door as quickly as he had, kicking his shoes off at the door. “Be so fucking glad I respect this organisation and my reputation, or I would be booting it into the sewers.”

“Tommy’s grades are great and he does more shit than you do!” Phil yelled back, and Tommy immediately grimaced, walking into the room with furrowed brows. Neither spared him a glance. “What happened to you, Wil? You used to be so good.” He finished almost wistfully, lifting a hand to touch his cheek, but the brunette immediately slapped it away, ignoring the pained look on Phil’s face as he did so.

“I can’t fucking believe you.”

Tommy didn’t like hearing his brother swear, flinching as he took a careful step back, not entirely sure who to side with.

“Never compare your children! It’s fucking disgusting!”

“I don’t compare you guys, I love you both equally-“

“Equally my arse-“

“Stop!” Tommy shouted over them, and that finally made them pause, staring at him as he stood in the doorway, struggling to hold down his shivers at the icy glares sent his way. “Both of you are acting so fucking childish it’s pathetic!”

“But-“

“You’re just proving my point, Phil.” Tommy never called his dad by his first name out loud, mainly out of pure respect, reserving his first name only for his thoughts or times when Phil wasn’t showing him the same respect back. It seemed to hit a sore spot, because the man flinched, confusion and hurt written over his face. “Whatever you’re both arguing about, you should shut up and get over it! You chose to create this organisation, you chose to have no spare time to study or be at your children’s birthdays, so get over it and get on with stabbing whatever orphans you chose this weekend.”

And without waiting for an answer, Tommy rushed upstairs, leaving behind a stale silence that he didn’t bothering acknowledging, falling onto his bed with a sigh.

Apparently, Tubbo cried when he was angry; that’s what he’d said anyways.

Tommy wasn’t sure what he did when he was angry, but he sure knew what the emotion itself felt like, and he knew most people didn’t simply brush it off as a normal Friday evening and fall off to sleep with ease, letting the emotion simmer until it ultimately gave up.

For a moment, he wondered what Techno did when he was angry, but he pushed the thought away before he could entertain it, forcing his eyes shut until his mind drifted into the abyss.

—

Tommy knocked on the door, the same low voice calling him in as last time forcing him to turn the doorknob. After a moment, he slipped into the chair, keeping a frown on his face as Techno waited expectantly, clearly not a fan of starting emotional conversations despite his job.

“How-“ he started, biting his lip as he tried to push the question away. And yet, he’d been trying it all week, dodging past the longing stares and the tired eyes in favour of going on walks or calling Tubbo. The thought kept returning as the anger simmered away. Phil had never liked stupid questions, constantly scolding him when he asked something he should know the answer to.

But how would he know the answer to this? He didn’t know Techno, not enough anyways.

Was it a stupid question? He knew Phil would say so.

“How do you deal with anger?” He asked anyways, fighting away the anxiety sitting in his head with a sigh to release any tension in his shoulders, keeping his legs still and his face even.

Tommy expected many things in reply; maybe a laugh and a ‘I don’t feel anger, you’re on your own kiddo’, or maybe a ‘don’t be stupid you should know’.

However, he never would’ve guessed the man would genuinely reply. “I do fencing in my spare time, helps release any pent up emotions, a friend recommended it when I was still in school.” He explained, and Tommy forced his face to stay apathetic, keeping just how baffled he was in his nagging mind. When Techno looked up at him, plucking his glasses from his face and twisting them in his hands, that strange sense of safety returned. “Why do you ask?”

Now, Tommy had many options.

He could lie; say he was angry at his friend Tubbo who stole his sandwich at lunch that day.

He could stay silent; a safe option, it would risk not leaking any information about anything.

He could go on a ramble about moths again; now that one was certainly tempting, moths were certainly interesting.

However, he did none of these things, and did one thing that was so foreign to his tongue it made his fingers twitch.

“My brother and Dad had a fight on Friday and brought me into it, it just pissed me off I guess.”

He told the truth.

Tommy couldn’t remember the last time he’d told the truth so easily and without an ounce of consideration, telling the truth wasn’t in his plans at all! And yet, the words were forced out of him as easily as a river flows. And Techno simply hummed, writing something down on a post-it-note.

“How do you usually deal with strong emotions?” He asked slowly, raising an eyebrow at the kid who frowned, looking at the ground in thought.

“I don’t feel strong emotions.” Was what he finally decided on, and that seemed to shock the other a little more than expected.

“What about that anger you were just on about?” He asked, a little baffled and clearly a little joking, yet there was a genuineness to his tone that made Tommy falter. Now that was where he drew the line. Tommy didn’t falter, he didn’t stumble amidst a fight or shake when he he held a gun, and he certainly didn’t start to like the idea of being listened to for once by someone who seemed horrendously trust-worthy.

“That-“ he started, shaking his head as he tried to force his mouth firmly shut, but it seemed his brain had other plans, “That feels normal at this point, that anger that I felt is just how I always feel, it’s natural I guess.”

The room fell into a strange silence, with Tommy clamping his hand over his mouth and Techno thinking in a quiet consideration.

“Do I have your permission to ask a possibly sensitive question?” Techno asked after the moment stretched on too long, and Tommy found himself blinking in confusion, pulling his hand away from his mouth as he slowly nodded. Techno cleared his throat, “What was your childhood like?”

The way Tommy froze was likely answer enough.

Tommy remembers the joy he felt as Phil gave him his first knife for Christmas when he was 5, and Wilbur’s giddy chuckles were enough to make him treasure it. Phil had also bought him a dummy to practice on, and he made sure to spend any spare time he had on mastering the arts of wielding a knife.

He remembers hearing a muttered promise as he drifted off to sleep, he was four at the time and had woken from a nightmare.

‘Whatever the cost, I will always protect you.’ Phil had whispered when he assumed Tommy had fallen asleep; but a four-year-old who’d just witnessed a murder because of an attempt on his own life never drifted off easily.

And that was… it. Anything else from before he was seven, he didn’t have any recollection of it.

However, he felt the dread in his stomach, the feeling of blood on his fingertips and noticed how his legs had started to shake despite no pressure being applied to them at all.

Those sweet memories apparently didn’t mean much to Tommy’s mind, despite how much joy he looked back on them with.

“Honestly?” He asked, Techno nodding encouragingly. “I don’t know.”

“You froze when I mentioned it.” The man pointed out, and Tommy frowned, forcing his leg to stop bouncing before the other noticed that too. “It can’t have been great.”

“I remember that I was loved, and I was safe, and I remember about two memories before the age of 7.” He confessed, his attempts at stopping the words flowing almost completely gone already with the knowledge he couldn’t stop. Maybe it was the calm atmosphere, maybe it was the genuinely interested expression on Techno’s face, or maybe it was the painting of a polar bear that was hung on the wall staring into his soul and commanding he let out all his secrets. Whatever it was, Tommy couldn’t manage to fight it no matter how hard he tried.

“Why before 7?” He asked, and Tommy paused, staring into his eyes with something uncertain. This time, not even his body willed him to speak, which Tommy was ever thankful for. “You don’t have to tell me, you’re not obliged to.”

“Why do you speak like that?”

“Speak like what?”

“Obliged,” he mocked, trying and failing to mimic the man’s extremely small smile, “Permission.” He expressed, and the man’s hands moved in front of his mouth, a questioning look on his face, “They are very strange words.”

“Would you rather me say ‘need’ and ‘allowed’?” He asked cautiously, clearly asking a question that Tommy somehow didn’t catch, sighing with a soft smile that said ‘you are so fucking dumb it hurts me’.

“I would rather you talk to me like the child I am,” he explained, deciding that this was a lesson well worth teaching the other, “I don’t get a chance to choose, you don’t need ‘permission’ from me, and I am obliged, that’s my entire point of being here, to listen to what adults tell me to do without a second thought.”

The room was silent, and Tommy sighed, frowning at the strange expression on the man’s face.

“What? The honest truth too much for you to handle?”

“Tommy.” He started, the boy humming, partially keen to hear how he’d learned his lesson. “Tommy you-“ he paused, thinking over his words carefully and making Tommy pause with him, fear returning ever so slightly. “Who told you that?”

“I-“ he started, clamping his mouth shut in favour of glaring at Techno. The man sounded and looked a little insane, thought Tommy would be lying if he said he didn’t consider dying his hair pink after their first session (he ultimately decided it wouldn’t look good for his villain brand).

“As a human, you’re entitled to respect, do you know what that means?” He asked, and the question seemed… foreign, in a way. Usually, questioned worded as such were said with such malice and scolding he was forced to say yes and agree; but Techno asked it so honestly, genuine concern written beneath his words.

“No?”

Tubbo had probably said it once, but then again Tubbo said many things.

“Respect means to regard other people’s feelings, opinions, emotions, and so on,” he explained, and Tommy frowned, tilting his head to the side in questioning. “For example, if you told me you didn’t want to eat mint ice cream, I wouldn’t force you to eat it, because i’m taking your feelings into regard, does that make sense?”

The concept made sense, but that wasn’t how the world worked.

Wilbur had explained it as such; the world doesn’t give you love, so why love it? Why, if the world was going to destroy you, should you not destroy it first?

“I- kind of?” He tried, bringing his knees to his chest and resting his chin on top of them, pulling his arms around his legs. “But who respects people? Do you respect people?”

“I do, I respect everyone who respects me,” Techno explained, “And sometimes even those who don’t respect me.”

Tommy frowned even further.

“Why?”

Techno hummed for a moment, tapping his pen on his desk in thought.

“Who’s your closest friend?”

“Tubbo.” Tommy replied immediately, no hesitation, and Techno smiled as if he’d won the lottery (in the Technoblade smile books anyhow).

“Okay, so imagine if Tubbo did something terrible, and he made you feel really sad.” It sounded as if he was a toddler, but again Tommy didn’t comment. “But then he apologised and showed he was really regretful of his actions, what would you do?”

After a quick moment of thought, Tommy replied, “Forgive him.”

“Right. But would you have to forgive him?”

“Yes.” Tommy replied just as quickly and just as confidently, and was only confused when Techno paused, his onslaught of questions coming to a halt. So, he decided to explain his opinion, maybe he would finally agree with something he said. “It’s not good to hold grudges, and if I forgive them it makes them happier, and I want Tubbo to be happy.”

The room stayed silent, and Tommy decided it would be best to stay quiet, watching the other closely as he looked across the room, a lost look in his eyes.

“Can I give you some homework, Tommy?”

At the prospect, he scoffed. “Therapy homework? Seriously Technoblade, you’ve fallen to a new low big man.”

“Your therapy homework this week is to not do anything that makes you uncomfortable.” Techno said it with such seriousness he couldn’t argue, slowly nodding. “Set boundaries, and if Tubbo comes and says he’s murdered your cousin don’t immediately forgive him.”

“If Tubbo committed murder he would have a damn good reason to do so.”

“Tommy.”

“Right, therapy homework, boundaries, learn respect, got it.”

Techno leaned back in his chair, and despite it all, Tommy found himself doing the same, enjoying the calm environment far more than he probably should.

Maybe he could get used to this.

They spoke about raccoons for the rest of the session, and Tommy felt a determination burning in his chest as he strolled down the hallway, waving goodbye to the receptionist lady.

The determination was a foreign feeling; it wasn’t the determination to make his father proud of him, or to be better than his brother, but rather to make him proud of himself.

And maybe, it all started with Technoblade.

//////——————////////

There was so much more i wanted to write but this shit was getting long and my heart is playing up again, so uh, bedrock bros :D

Hope yall enjoyed, yknow if you somehow managed to read the entire thing I sure hope you didn’t waste your time LMAO

Ily all <3

[thatoneasianartist]

I got a book to practice writing my fan fic

[unfinishedficsillneverwrite]

tommy the ex secretary

tommy is dreams super competent secretary who was hired underage because the hero's could just not pass up having someone with the ability to see the future as backup for the number one hero

so tommy gets dragged around behind the scenes by dream as a kid, most his life does alot of dirty work for dream and does it really well, but eventually gets to the age 17 and realizes dream's morals suck in comparison to his villain counterparts,

the sbi, whos goal is to make hero's commision have a forced reform by make all their dirt public.

tommy knows alot bc he can see the future and is dreams secretary and he gets in contact with the sbi and using all that knowledge gives them all they'll need to complete their goal in return that they hide him away from the hero commission, and dream, who is his abuser

so like obvi this is where sbi are like okay obvi we'll help you hide from the people you're betraying we wouldnt want them to kill you

sbi give tommy an apartment to stay in, kinda shabby but perfect for someone hiding from heros

anyways this is where sbi turns into dark sbi and then even after the hero reform they keep in touch with

on the surface and from tommys perspective, theyre using tommy as like an informant on other villain groups in return for that he gets to stay in the apartment

but actually thats just an excuse to keep tommy around and hang out with him,

i have it scriped that they fight over taking turns when hanging out with tommy bc they still have villain busness

after they start hanging at his place alot they like buy him new furniture cause they dont think the stuff they gave him originally was good enough anymore

and then like because this is dark sbi eventually wilbur and techno start calling tommy brother and phil starts calling tommy son

and like tommy is dense about the extra friendliness for a while but when he realizes theyre for real about considering him family he is still kinda just apathic and impassive about it bc he doesnt really consider them family back but he also doesnt care that they think he's family

untilllll

like eventually tommy is kidnapped or somthing and drugged up by his kidnappers

(i think i was thinking it would be goerge or dream kidnapping tommy in revenge but i wrote this without saying who would be doing the kidnapping???)

and the sbi get there all freaked out and angy and tommy is all woozy and cuddly and stuff

idk what happens after this i think the implied ending is that they go home and like snuggle, tommy realizes he considered them family the whole time or somthing

but i did not write more after this so i have no clue,

[anymal28]

Sbi Heroes AU ideas.

What if instead of Tommy being the Vigilante that the other 3 take in, it's Wilbur.

Phil and Techno are villains. Wilbur and Tommy are brothers. Wilbur is trying to keep up with rent and food for them. But he's also going out at night and fighting crime, trying to make his neighborhood a little safer for Tommy. One thing leads to another and he finds himself face to face with a villian/hero fight way too close to his apartment. He panics because Tommy is there alone and hurries to get him.

OR

Wilbur became a vigilante or small time villian because his younger brother Tommy was taken by the heroes because of the kids powers. He's dead set on working by himself but soon realizes he needs more help and eventually gets taken in by Phil and Techno..

[cricketblabbers]

Help finding a fanfic!(could contain spoilers)

I have been trying to find a fic for a while now and just can't figure out what it's called. Idk if it's been taken down or what but I want to read it again. It's a SBI hero/villain centered around Bedrock bros. Tommy and Techno are piglin hybrids, techno a brute and tommy a runt, 3/4 sbi are villains I think. Tommy is evil hero dreams brother and uses him to find weaknesses of piglins to fight techno. I think quackity is a lawer in later chapters that sapnap calls up to go against dream? It starts with tommy finding techno in an alley and their instincts cause them to bond and techno takes him home(not really kidnapping but could be idk) and Tom meets the fam. They descover dreams bad to him and want to keep him.

I don't remember much else but I forgot to save it and now I can't find it please help!

[that-sweet-jester]

busted

I am here to post you yet another segment of my superhero au >:DDD

And also to recommend some fic I've been reading as of lately:

A Hero Scorned (is a hero lost) by Lotsalizards

Sometimes you should've just stayed home by Nissified

TommyInnit's Infamous Taxi Service by Roohoo

All on Ao3 and all worth the read <3333

Also why didn't I draw Wilbur's costume with a jabot, that's like the most theather kid drama liking hamilton stan thing he could wear.

[calmthefuckdownalright]

Villain Pool AU

guess what! I'm still on my shit and I was thinking about the different groups in the Dream SMP. The Syndicate particularly. The big 4 would be Phil, Technoblade, Niki, and Ranboo. That's them.

They're our beloved mobsters and with that thought I circled back to the MANY supervillain au's where the Syndicate is made up of basically all of SBI, Beeduo, Jack is there with Niki, and then our lovely Las Nevadas bois Q and Slime. I have yet to see Foolish there but he's an honorable mention

ANYWAY

The Dream Team and their various comrades are commonly seen as "heroes" so-

This got me thinking. The real Syndicate, the og 4 mentioned above is a mafia group. They're mean and exclusively do things themselves. They have money, they have power, but it's all their own and no one has dared take it from them. Except for our lovely rival mafia that was founded out of spite by the Syndicate's head honchos oldest son who basically stole his youngest son to keep him from being influenced.

L'manberg. Aka The Revolutionists. They specialize in causing havoc without hardly lifting a finger or revealing who the hell they really are. They're great at expressing their intentions without being seen. Some call them cowards, and those people are quickly snuffed out.

Now, who is L'manberg you might ask.

Well obviously Wilbur is the eldest son I mentioned and he took Tommy when he was young to get away from Phil's violent business before Tommy got drug into it as a child as Wilbur did. Wilbur tries to convince Technoblade to join them but his brother craves violence and is forever loyal to their fierce father.

In a habit of taking in those who he wishes to keep out of Phil's violent path, Wilbur finds Fundy and takes him in as well. Then along comes Eret, and eventually Tubbo. Others come and "help" L'manberg but they never get close enough to find out who exactly is a participant in the Revolutionists.

There are a few that get in but go through a process to leave as long as they promise to help when called for, and L'manberg will extend their protection to them as well.

These people are few and far between, most of them never being heard from again. But one man...one man causes issues for both the Syndicate and L'manberg.

Quackity Nevadas forms a vigilante group called the Butcher Army where both people from L'manberg and the Syndicate join in. This causes issues and under an alliases of Orpheus and Theseus, Wilbur and Tommy meet with Phil and Techno (who is the Army's target) to get their men back. Of course, everyone from L'manberg is require to keep their identities secret under any and all circumstances. Fundy, Eret, and Tubbo are not real names. They're covers. Even Wilbur doesn't know their real names and they don't know his. They call him Mr. President, and Tommy is Vice.

In the Butcher Army they keep their identities secret as well, Quackity being one of the only ones who flaunts his. In L'manberg he was known as Q which was short for his new allias Quackity but people don't know this and assume that Quackity's parents were just odd since it was weird for a villain to go by two names without one of them being their real one.

With time, Techno dismantles the hunting party for his head without much trouble and both Fundy and Tubbo return to L'manberg with a thourough scolding from their President. Fundy is particularly affected by this because at this point he has considered Wilbur a kind of father figure, or at least a big brother.

(Side note: Everyone in L'manberg doesn't know Wilbur and Tommy are actually brothers. Phil and Technoblade don't know Wilbur and Tommy are Orpheus and Theseus.)

I've gotten a little off track here and forgot to explain in depth how the Syndicate/L'manberg meeting went.

No one has met President and Vice. No one's seen their faces, no one even knows if they exist really besides the ones in L'manberg and even then the both of them stay behind screens during meetings. Wilbur has made sure of that because he knows that if Phil wants to, he can find out who is running the show with the smallest bit of information. Fundy is the closest one to Wilbur and all he knows is that he's tall and has brown hair.

This leads to Phil (who is known on the street as Zephyrus) and Technoblade (The Blood God) not having a clue that their forgotten family is right in front of them. (who they think either left the city or were killed in one of the many villain hero fights (Wilbur totally didn't plant evidence of their bodies to get Phil off their tracks when they first left or anything))

Wilbur knows, Tommy doesn't because he was too young and Wilbur never exactly told him who Zephyrus and The Blood God really were. Anyway here's the little scene I cooked up from the POV of Wilbur:

"I was told we were meeting with the heads of L'manberg. Not some two bit lieutenants." The Blood God snarled. Technoblade. Wilbur itched to punch him, it was always like that when they met. Only one of them knowing everything.

"Who are you calling two bit Tusks?" Tommy spat and Wilbur held back his little brother from lunging forward. Tommy's temper was vital and it made Wilbur smile underneath the carefully crafted mask. The voice modulator distorted Tommy's voice to a much lower pitch which didn't fit his height, but then again Tubbo sounded like a fucking smoker of 30 years some days with hardly even a surgical mask on.

"Easy Theseus." Wilbur warned.

"Get your dog under control." Technoblade demanded and that hurt. That made Wilbur's blood burn in confliction. If only he knew it all.

"Zephyrus if you would refrain your comrade from insulting mine that would be appreciated. This is business, not pleasure." Wilbur said cooly. His voice sounded so smooth, no cracking from dusty rooms and cheap cologne. Ivory keys in a symphony.

"Blood." Zephyrus obliged. Phil, oh Phil made Wilbur angry. All he saw in the glimpses of his face behind the veil was the violence of his own childhood. Phil wasn't abusive, he was rough when he needed to be and overall it was fairly normal. But his expectations...they crushed Wilbur even now. Good thing he thought he was dead.

"Blood God is right, we were told we were meeting with President and Vice of L'manberg. Not their subordinates. We don't even know who you are." Phil was careful in his tone. Cold and daring for aggression.

"We're who they send to do their business. I'm Orpheus and this is Theseus." Wilbur kept a steady hand on Tommy's shoulder. The tight leather gloves over his hands flexed as Tommy tensed to move. Impatient as always.

"Cowards." Technoblade scoffed and Wilbur snapped his head to the one he used to call his brother. If there was one thing he couldn't stand to be called, it was coward. Bastard, fucker, idiot, two bit trash. A burning ship drowning everyone around him. Call him anything but coward. He was just trying to protect those he loved.

"Say that again." Wilbur said low and the voice modulator almost didn't pick up his voice correctly and there was a fault. A glitch and the illusion of Orpheus' voice was ruined.

"You use voice modulators?" Zephyrus inquired and Wilbur cleared his throat. Tommy was practically begging to jump at Technoblade, but Wilbur knew he'd be skewered before he even moved an inch.

"Our identities are sacred if you couldn't tell." Wilbur lifted his chin to reveal just how high his turtleneck went and a dark beanie fully covered his hair. The mask he wore took up his entire face and another mask under it covered his lower jaw and anything on the side that might show. Tommy had his hoodie and similar ski mask material covering his features. The hood over his hair was secured to the mask, so any possibility of it coming off was unlikely.

"Right." Zephyrus examined them and Wilbur could feel those bright blue eyes running alone every crack and crevice of his body to try and find something to use. A description of his hands, a fault in his stance or posture. A habit. Anything.

"Orpheus and Theseus. Mythological heroes. Interesting choice." Phil noticed and Wilbur's blood ran cold.

"Don't analyze, don't analyze, don't analyze." He begged in his head and tore the conversation away from the topic.

"Orpheus wasn't a hero, and Theseus killed his father technically. I wouldn't call them heroes." Wilbur hissed and he saw Phil's eyes blink knowingly. There was his information. All he needed. Wilbur knew his greek fairytales. In a city full of crime, those who were educated enough to even think of those stories were few. Let alone be well versed in them enough to know the technicalities of them all.

"We're not here to chat over aliases." Technoblade cut in and Wilbur clenched his fist, removing his hand from Tommy and folding them neatly behind his back.

"Right. The Butcher Army is after your head and it consists of both our people." Wilbur smiled behind his mask. Force of habit to appear charming and all.

"No habits. Stop it. Phil will notice." He reminded himself and dropped the smirk. He didn't know if there was anything in his body language to show the grin but he didn't want to risk it.

"Your men are leading it." Technoblade reminded him and Wilbur felt the sting of Quackity's betrayal. And just after losing Eret. It hurt like a bitch to remember.

"Quackity is not one of ours. He completed President's exit trial." Tommy had stilled his temper apparently and Wilbur sent a silent thanks to the heavens.

"I wasn't aware people could leave L'manberg." Phil observed curiously and Wilbur bared his teeth behind the mask.

"It's a difficult task, like everything else and if you'll notice, Quackity isn't exactly untouched." There was an ugly scar running down the man's chest where Wilbur had sliced him. Quackity had earned his keep, and his silence, so Wilbur was forced to send him to a healer known as Ponk. Ponk was in a duo with a technician Wilbur knew as Warden. Warden made all their technology at a costly price, and his loyalty was undecided. He was a neutral party and Wilbur had reluctantly agreed to offer them protection in exchange for services.

"That doesn't change the fact that two more known L'manberg members are in the Butcher Army." Phil reminds him and Wilbur straightens his back at the threatening tone.

"Doesn't change the fact that one of your trusted members is as well." Wilbur looked to Technoblade. "I wonder what violence you must've done to him to make Ranboo hate you enough to join your own murder gang."

Technoblade growled. Oh he growled and Wilbur growled back.

"Prince doesn't hate me." Technoblade growled the code name and Wilbur chuckled, stepping in front of Tommy and facing his brother.

"Ranboo, has met with us a few times himself. He's taken a fondness to-" Tommy kicks Wilbur in the calf and Wilbur blinks. The enchantment vanishes and Wilbur steps away.

Adrenaline; that was part of Technoblade's powers. Causing so much of it to go through a person they don't think clearly until its too late. Perfect for hunting down those who've crossed him and the Syndicate.

"Fond of who? Go on." Technoblade dared and bared his fangs in an ugly smirk. Wilbur scowled.

"This was supposed to be peaceful." Wilbur muttered, lacing his Influence into his tone. Technoblade blinked away the magic quickly, it was weak, only meant to suggest the idea of calming things down. nothing that would alert Phil at whose powers his own were so similar to.

"It is." Phil said, Wilbur's voice had never worked on him. Probably something to do with those damn bird traits of his.

"You've done nothing but threaten and accuse." Tommy stepped back to Wilbur's side.

"Allegedly." Phil said and flared his black wings. "You take care of your own, and we'll handle ours. how's that sound?"

There was something ominous. Something warning and teasing and something that told Wilbur that Phil knew something he shouldn't. A habit of presenting himself as charming and intelligent surely couldn't be enough to narrow it down. Phil did like the hunt though.

That much Wilbur knew for a fact.

Hehehehe

Anyways, I'm working on maybe making an A03 account and publishing this fic there. I need a title though. I didn't expect this to turn into something. This started as an AU rant...now I need titles and I'll figure out a proper name for the AU later

[ghostsknewmynights]

For awhile, Heroes and civilians alike (Villains didn’t particularly care since as he didn’t get in their way) thought the villain ‘Risk’ had ‘reflection’, the ability to, you guessed it, reflect attacks after they’d hit.

Though it was similar, it wasn’t right. They figured that out, unfortunately, catching inconsistencies with every new fight—if he was hit by, say, a punch (which were surprisingly common in a super-powered world), he would stumble back normally. If he were hit by a fire blast, often belonging to the hero Ignite, he would be burned and turn-tail.

But when Eight shot blue energy at him through his signature staff? It would turn-tail, changing direction to hit it’s user (Risk seemed to have it out for Eight, for whatever reason—he’s almost never been hit by one of the man’s attacks, taking extra care to dodge and throw back).

When a sound wave from Dream, the no.1 villain who saw him as a nuisance (which he took great pride in), didn’t move fast enough, it twisted without a pause, often hitting the man back. This was a slightly better outcome, for the heroes—if Dream had a ‘rival’, which is what the media called it for simplicity, he’d be occupied, giving the heroes more time to prepare.

But even then, their efforts weren’t enough. Even distracted, Dream worked quickly, and with Risk in the mix, it was getting harder and harder to hold their ground.

Dream, you see, was objectively superior to most all heroes power-wise. He was one of the rare few to be born with three powers—Weaponised sound, wingless-flight, and enhanced speed. He could move swiftly and without care for gravity, allowing him to dodge with ease: sound-waves were forceful and you never knew where they’d come from (the chatter of civilians, the sound of attacks colliding, your own voice. Silence was highly recommended), making for strong attacks.

He could only be defeated by The Blade, the no.1 hero, who had superhuman strength, reflexes, and stamina. But even then, if Dream left the ground, it was over. The strength let him jump higher, yes, but he couldn’t stay higher.

So in short, Dream was powerful. And fast. And above every hero even if they loathed to admit it.

So with another villain on the streets who could very possibly rival and weaponise that power? They’d be screwed. Absolutely screwed.

So patrols went up. They needed to catch one—most likely Risk—before the two teamed up (though that didn’t seem likely, it was possible). Heroes patrolled more often, working to the point of exhaustion. Dream seemed to be playing it safe and, despite his cockiness, laying low.

Risk was doing the same, somewhat. He showed up every so often, narrowly evading capture and leaving damage in his wake, but otherwise wasn’t sighted.

And, thanks to the fatigue and need for more assets, nobody seemed to notice when two people—both blonde with opposite colour schemes, coincidentally listed as powerless—were hired at hero-tower. And worse, nobody noticed the signature lime of a villain or the vibrant red of a reflector creeping into the supposed haven.

And when they do?

Well, it’ll be far too late by then. Maybe it already is: they’re armed with information and files, a begrudging alliance, and the realisation they’re a dynamic duo when they tolerate the other.

So, safe to say, hero-society, or at least the tower, is screwed.

—

Sorry if this got confusing in any way. This was originally meant to be another prompt (Tommy with reflection powers) but it got out of hand and somehow became a full AU.

To clear things up, Risk is Tommy, a notorious villain with a a type of telekinesis that lets him control powers. Though not mentioned, he can also manipulate his own energy (being red, which morphs and solidifies at will).

Eight is Wilbur, who uses the same (condensed energy but blue, which burns more than solidifies and often harms the user (hence the staff)). The Blade is Techno, ofc, who has superhuman strength, speed, stamina and reflexes.

Dream is, well, Dream, who weaponises sound waves, can fly, and walks fast (a deadly combo, I know /j). Ignite, though only mentioned in one line, is Sapnap, able to generate fire with his hands and withstand both hot and cold temperatures.

[youreyeslookliketheocean]

Chapter summary:

It should be easy. Shoot a vine, grab Wilbur’s wrist or torso or, really, whatever he can with the limited time he’s been given, pull him back. He’s yanked the heroes out of danger dozens of times. All it takes is a good shot.

Instead, for a split second, Tommy hesitates. For some reason, Wilbur’s voice is ringing in his head, telling him he shouldn’t have powers. That he’s just like his parents. That he’s not a hero.

Tommy hesitates.

And with a release of Jester’s hand, Wilbur falls.

-

Or, Wilbur's starting to form connections and Tommy gets semi-kidnapped

[jinx-blackout-84]

The Shady Kid From the Alleyway

Chapter 2

Interlude: The Ace and the Man With the Silver Tongue

My TNTduo stuff really kicks off here.

Much shorter chapter

TWS: cursing, yelling, alcohol consumption

Wilbur was not a happy man.

His father had sent him to do trade deals with Las Nevadas.

The country was loud and bright, home to the richest con-man on the server.

The receptionist looked at Wilbur with a look of disdain the he didn't think she even tried to conceal. She clicked a pen, "who are you and why are you here?" She paused, "Actually, I don't care. Go home kid."

Wilbur made and held unblinking eye contact with the receptionist, "I am Wilbur Soot, heir to the Myncraft Tech Corporation, son of Phillip Watson, and, as you may know, your sole provider of all of the technology in this building." The words dripped with malice.

He blinked, "And I am here to speak with Quackity Nevadas."

---------------

Quackity noted that his office window was very large.

This was not new information, but very difficult to not take note of. It spanned from floor to ceiling, showing him a view of /his/ empire, one he had built from the ground up and killed to protect.

The buildings glittered.

Blood dripped off of his hand onto the tiles of his office floor.

-----------

The receptionist Wilbur was speaking with hesitated, picking her words carefully, "Mr. Nevadas is on break."

Wilbur grit his teeth.

"Where?" He hissed.

The elevator dinged.

Wilbur watched as a man left the elevator. His coal-black hair covered by a navy beanie was the first sign that this was the man Wilbur was looking for.

The second sign was the way that the man immediately turned around and stepped back into the elevator, jamming the buttons frantically.

Wilbur strode over, putting his hand over the elvator doors so he could walk into it.

Quackity sighed.

Wilbur smirked at the shorter. "That scared of me, Mr. Nevadas?"

"That scared of this shitty conversation. I can already feel myself losing flirting skills by talking to you," Quackity bit back.

"Well, I don't really care, Quackity," Wilbur replied.

"That's Mr. Nevadas to you, Wilbur."

"Oh, I see. I would never disrespect you, sir" Wilbur snarked.

"Good," Quackity said.

The elevator dinged.

The doors openened to the 81st floor of Nevadas Tower.

"So," Quackity said, "Do I have to talk with you in my office or can we get this over with while we have a drink?"

Wilbur pondered, "Probably an office matter."

Quackity ignored him. "Great, we're going to the bar."

"If you take me to that fucking casino-"

"In the new Navadas Casino."

-----------

The lights were bright enough that Wilbur would not be shocked have a migrane later, but perhaps that was Quackity too, insufferable bitch.

"So," Quackity said, stirring his drink, something with vodka in it, Wilbur didn't recognize the name, "what did you need to talk to be about so badly, Wilbur?"

Wilbur glared. "I need information about Dream."

Quackity put a finger to his cheekbone, sipping his drink. "Okay, what do you need to know?"

"His real identity." Wilbur said.

"And why do you need to know that?" Quackity asked.

"He poses a threat to my company."

"And what are you willing to give me?" Quackity asked, making eye contact with Wilbur.

"The ability to have my company's products sold to your residents," Wilbur said.

"Huh. You don't need the sales to Las Nevadas?" Quackity smirked.

"Oh no, we do, but I think you need us more." Wilbur said.

"Oh, so eager to walk in dad's shoes now Will. What happened to that kid who wanted to stay with me after you ran away?" Quackity tapped his finger on the side of his glas,. "Plus, dad's shoes won't ever fit. Maybe Techno could take over, but you? Emotionally unstable, unreliable, and lazy." Quackity smiled.

People's heads were beginning to turn, eyes locked on their country's leader. Quackity stood up, walking over to a poker table."Play me?" He asked Wilbur.

Wilbur nodded, curtly.

"By the way, how'd that latest product release go?"

"Oh you mean the one you tried to sabotage?" Wilbur smirked, venom dripping from his tone, "great actually"

"I wonder what happens when daddy can't clean up your messes anymore, Wilbur," Quackity spit.

Quackity dealt the cards.

"And you'll never know," Wilbur said.

"I mean, it wouldn't be inconvenient for me to have one less market rival" Quackity said, blurring the line between sarcasm and truth.

"When dear old dad is dead, will you be able to pick up your own messes? Can you run a country? You can't run your own life, Wilbur. You're some stupid fucking kid who got lucky enough to adopted by some rich prick because he was bored."

"I am an owner of the company thay provides you all of the technology that keeps this city of yours functioning, Quackity," Wilbur spit.

"Mr. Nevadas," Quackity corrected.

He then raised his eyebrows "No, Will, you aren't. Your father is, and when he dies, It's your job to keep the company running, along with the entire country that depends upon it for their economy," he said.

"What will you do when it's you job," Quackity tilted his head, "to be your father? All I see is a melodramatic drama kid with no real future without his rich dad."

Wilbur flinched.

"Ooooh, I strike a nerve?"

Quackity watched an easy smile slip across Wilbur's face.

"Well," Wilbur dragged the tip of his finger ove the edge of his glass, "I see a sniveling man in a suit bought with new money, in a casino built with lies. I see a man that is so scared of losing his precious city full of scammers and con-men that he's willing to lose the most important connection he has to the largest company in L'manburg."

Quackity smirked, "Okay, well, orphan boy, do remember back when you used to ring my doorbell and stand on my porch, begging for somewhere to stay because you couldn't defend yourself against your foster parents? You owe me, darling," he drawled.

"No, darling, I really don't, I can protect myself well enough now. "

"What about Tommy? You protect him?" Quackity said, freezing when he saw a blankness dawn across Wilbur's face.

Wilbur saw red.

He pinned Quackity to the side of the poker table, game forgotten.

Wilbur bent down and whispered, "Quackity Nevadas, I could blow up this entire country. I could stop selling to Las Nevadas. I don't need you, Quackity. Not anymore. There was someone who did at some pont, right? What was his name? Greyson? What happened? He trusted you and then you betrayed him. You drive away everyone who loves you, Quackity Nevadas"

Quackity moved to push Wilbur.

Wilbur caged him with his arms.

"stay, darling," Wilbur said, letting his voice slip for a moment, "you will tell me who Dream is, or I will cut off your access to my company's products."

Wilbur let the shorter man go, and Quackity straightened before he downed his entire drink, "and if I don't know?"

"Then you will find out within the next week."

"Look man," Quackity said, leveling with the taller man, "i'm not even shitting you right now, I can't get that kind of intel in a week while running a country. Especially not without some motivation."

"Then you have two weeks," Wilbur said, "Or I'll blow up your cute little casino. That motivation enough?"

"Oh," Wilbur put cash on the bar beside the poker tableI want reports monthly, "I'll come down every other day to check on your progress."

The taller pulled on his trechcoat before walking out the door, leaving Quackity to watch.

-----------11:09December 3

Ace seemed quieter than usual, Techno noticed.

"Hey Ace, you good?" Mercury asked over the comms.

Ace was silent for a moment "I mean, not really. Job's pretty stressful right now to be honest."

Wilbur jumped over an alleyway. "Boss pushing you around again?"

"Not quite. Trying to manage alot right now. Pretty high tension situation"

Wilbur sighed behind his mask.He continued to run across the roof, "Yeah I know how that feels, man."

"It's pretty tough," Ace said, "They want me to do something really difficult right now," Ace paused, "and I could get in pretty serious trouble if I can't"

The moonlight caught Wilbur's Mercury mask as he nodded, not that Ace could see it. He had always had a soft spot for Ace, finding his jabs and jokes funny and laughing at his endless dick jokes. "Well, you could always come crash at my place and I could get you a job," Wilbur offered.

Ace was silent, replying after a pause, "I know, and thank you, Mercury, but I prefer to keep work and play seperate. Plus, I like my current job, if not my associates."

Wilbur nodded.

"Hey, Ace," Techno said "You're our best hacker."

"Okay, thank you?" Ace said, a lilt of a question in his voice.

"Do you think you could figure out Dream's civillian identity?" Techno asked.

"Okay, I'm gonna be honest, Blood God," Ace said, with a sigh, "I have no idea. I could get killed while looking into it, and It's risky. I can try, but no promises."

Techno figured that made sense. "Okay, that makes sense," he said.

--------------------

4:08 AM

The lights blurred as Quackity tried to breathe, back pressed against the cold tile wall.His chest had constricted and he couldn't seem to get air to his lungs.

He was going to die.

He had to figure out Dream's identity.

Dream would kill anyone who dug too deep.

Quackity was going to die.

Wilbur was going to kill him if he didn't find out who Dream was.

Quackity was not going to see twenty-three. He had two weeks.

He was going to die.His chest was tight and his panic was crushing down on his ribcage. The lack of air slowly gathered into dark spots in his vision as the flourescent lights of his office bathroom ran in streaks down his vision.

Quackity was so tired. Greyson had trusted him. He had failed Greyson. Now he was going to fail Mercury. He was going to fail himself. He was going to get himself killed along with his entire country.

Quackity slumped back against the tile, his head hitting the wall with a hollow thud.

----------

Quackity's fingers flew over the keyboard as he combed over private records from the Dream Team HQ. He had been in front on the computer for hours, his blue light glasses hopefully effective enough to save his vision. Villain fights, wounds suffered, all things mostly available to the public, and most heavily redacted, black bars covering important information to the point that some documents only had 20 visible words on them.

He reverse searched for any info pertaining to Dream, grinning when he came across something that seemed useful.

He knocked a monster can from the desk as he fist-pumped.

It was a number.

An IP adresss.

Quackity knew the IP adress for Dream's work phone.

His fingers danced on the keys as he poked around the coded protections on Dream's phone, searching for a loose thread or backdoor he knew had to be there.

Nothing.

This was gonna be difficult.

----------

"Did you talk to Quackity?" Philza asked.

"Yup, he was a bitch like always," Wilbur said.

"You're just saying that because you're in love with him," Techno said.

"I am not. He is the scum of the earth. I talk about him so much because I hate him," Wilbur defended.

"Bruhhhhh...."

"It's okay mate we'll accept you even if you love Quackity," Phil teased.

"I DO NOT!" Wilbur insisted.

"Okay, mate," Phil agreed.

"I'm gonna visit him every two days to check his progress," Wilbur said.

"But you don't have a crush, no way," Techno accused.

"Shut the fuck up I hate him so much," Wilbur said.

"Okay," Techno said placatingly.

Wilbur glared, walking out of the lobby of Mycraft Enterprise.

"Hey, dad, when do we get a new Tech manager?" He called behind him.

"Oh, Monday. I think you'll like the new guy," Phil said, smiling.