COMFORT - DSMP + CHILD ! READER

22 :: MOTION SICKNESS

"How?"

"techno doesn't know when to shut up, and phil is really distant."

Tommy nodded for them to continue. The child sighed, scratching their chest where the scars were.

"techno always uses whatever excuse he can when i have to talk about something important. 'oh, i did this because of this!' when he could have prevented it, yknow?"

The blonde laughed, knowing exactly what scenario they were referring to. Wilbur gave in easily to Phil most of the time.

"And what's wrong with Phil?"

{Y/n} stared at the wall. They didn't respond for a moment, Tommy staying patient with them. He was too tired to be pressuring at the moment.

"well, you see how wilbur turned out-"

Tommy cackled, hands on his stomach as he laughed. {Y/n} grinned, laughing with them-

Wilbur sat on the floor of the ravine, on top of where Tommy and {Y/n} were. He heard everything they were saying and honestly found it funny. It left a sour taste in his mouth that Phil was caring for them, though..

Sure, Philza was nice, but he wasn't always the best parent. Almost never, actually. Constantly traveling and favoring other people than his own son.

He stared at a swinging lantern, somewhat entranced. Two puffs of smoke blew out of each nostril, the man letting out a content sigh. He didn't know what to do with himself anymore.

Techno looked down at him, walking down the final steps. The brute was in casual farming clothes, boots and pant legs stained with dirts and bits of potatoes.

"Well, you're not having a good day huh?"

Wilbur laughed, shaking his head. He was insanely tired, not having slept since they arrived. Techno had been up for over 14 hours working on the large potato farm he made.

{Y/n} and Tommy could be heard talking, the child saying something about their chat. Tommy's chat were little fireflies.

Technoblade glanced down at where they were talking, facing his adoptive brother.

"Wilbur. You're about to pass out. Go get rest, ill watch over everythin'."

The brunette didn't argue, standing up and stomping out the cigarette. It was almost finished anyways. He pat Technoblade's shoulder as he walked by, trudging up the stairs. The brute sat, yawning. He was tired too, although another coffee wouldn't hurt.

Tommy sat up, reaching to grab the jar of fireflies on his nightstand.

"You ready?"

They nodded, Tommy shaking the shit out of the jar and opening it. One by one the glowing bugs began to disperse in the room, faint cheering and talking coming from them. {Y/n} whistled loudly, listening as they crowded at the basement entrance. Tommy whooped, breaking the block to run out as the swarm of fireflies flew after him.

{Y/n} cheered and followed, the raccoons following in suit. Technoblade watched as the two sprinted to the ladder, both of the chats following in curiosity.

The farmer sighed as he got up, grabbing the two by the collars of their shirts. They both screamed, turning around.

"Where are you guys going..?"

"Getting supplies n shit, the food down here sucks ass."

"I have, like, 20 stacks of potatoes, ill bake some."

The two glanced at eachother, cheering as they ran into the makeshift kitchen with their chat. Techno laughed, walking in and pulling a few out of his pocket as he got to cooking.

He made sure to make some for Wilbur and for L'mandog, too. Good pooch.

Tommy had a few raccoons on his lap, {Y/n} holding a few newer viewers as they spoke. Tommy was talking shit about Schlatt, while {Y/n} spoke mostly of Phil and how things worked at the Arctic Empire.

Of course, with him being nosy, Technoblade listened in as he cooked. {Y/n} was selecting their words very carefully when talking about Philza or Techno, knowing SOMEONE would take it EXTREMELY personally.

They glanced at Techno and continued to walk, the man snorting out a laugh. Tommy whistled, the loyal entrance dog speeding over and scaring the fireflies.

L'mandog sat at his feet, tail hitting a few raccoons as they chittered and sniffed it. {Y/n} was growing more accustomed to living in the ravine, although it did make them anxious.

Tommy usually had to stop them from reopening the scars on their hands with their nails, even offering to clip them. They refused, since the process of actually cutting the claws hurt quite a bit. A hunter tried to get them once, and it didn't end well for the man.

They learned that day how far back a man's eye socket can be reached into, purely out of survival instinct.

Techno slid them the plates of baked potatoes, Tommy grinning greedily and chowing down. {Y/n} gave him a jokingly disgusted face at the fact he didn't even add seasoning.

Americans, man.

(1122 words)