Ink Stains (MCYT Oneshots)

[R] Rusty Bois (Tommy & Wilbur)

(A/N: req as a pic. anyways i only know the basics of rust and i don't think i can fit all of this but uhhh yeah?? idk)

"What the fuck."

Wilbur kind of wants to throttle whatever god out there that has decided to majorly fuck up his life once more. As if being revived isn't bad enough, now he's fallen through the floor and ended up in an entirely different place as he was peacefully talking with Tommy?

Fuck this shit.

He stands up, hearing Tommy's loud groan from the floor as he scans their surroundings. It's pretty... dusty, and everything looks a lot darker and gloomier in a brown way. He can see a big red thing in the horizon, and multiple other smaller settlements scattered around.

"Well," he states out loud. "Bit of a piece of shit, the scriptwriter."

Tommy only lets out another groan. With a sigh, Wilbur crouches down, and shakes him. "You good?"

"Wilbur, we have literally fallen through the floor and ended up in a different kind of shithole," Tommy lifts his face up from the ground to stare at him flatly. "How the fuck do you think I'll be feeling?"

"Hopefully, the same way I am," Wilbur shrugs, standing back up when it becomes clear that Tommy currently has no intentions of moving.

He starts to inspect everything. First, he opens his inventory, only to nearly choke when he sees all the changes. There's a whole manual for crafting, and there's even crafting recipes for new and unknown things. Ideas start to run wild in his mind, but he pushes them down, and focuses on survival first.

He checks with Tommy to see if they have the same inventory: that is, a few bits of food, a wooden sword, a leather tunic and shoes, and a white box that apparently contains medicine. When he sees that they do, he begins trying to pull Tommy up, though he only manages to get the to sit up, with a scowl on his face that Wilbur honestly found a little adorable.

"I hate this," Tommy declares.

"Good news, Toms," Wilbur snarks, not noticing the strange look that passes over the younger's face as he hears the nickname for the first time in a long while. "Really informative. Definitely useful."

"Oi, fuck off," Tommy snaps, pushing his emotions away for the time being. "I'm not the one that's like, fuckin'-"

"Tommy!" both of their heads turn to the left quickly, and Tommy almost falls over yet again at the sight of Tubbo, but... not. As far as he remembers, Tubbo was very much a ram hybrid when he last saw him. But this- this Not-Tubbo? This Not-Tubbo is human.

"What the fuck," Tommy hisses, scrambling to his feet and starting to make a break for it, if it isn't for Not-Tubbo immediately grabbing his arm i with an eerily bright grin.

"Hey, Wilbur," the other guy greets, like he knows him. Wilbur hates him already. "You alright? You didn't show up to your usual preaching for the Dome today."

'This is sounding a lot like a cult,' Wilbur can only think.

"You got any skin for me?" Tubbo grins up at Tommy in a way that makes him really want to run away, preferably as soon as possible. "I would eat you straight up, but my group forbid me to do that, so I have to settle for something else.

Tommy and Wilbur share a look. There's only so much weird shit either of them can handle in one day.

Tommy picks up a rock and slams it on Not-Tubbo's face, and he goes out like a lightbulb just as Wilbur proceeds to literally light the other guy up on fire, somehow.

"Finally," Wilbur mutters as both of their bodies disappear. "The screaming was getting annoying."

Tommy resists the urge to squirm in place. "Right," he manages out, taking a step back when Wilbur's eyes land on him. "So what do we do now, big man?"

"Well," Wilbur drawls, glancing at his communicator, where are multiple new messages, and not all of them informative or good in nature. "Preferably, we should start running, and getting a good look at where we are."

"Good idea," Tommy agrees, and proceeds to push him over and make a break for it, like a little bastard.