Tommyinnit One Shots

Oops! My Sword Slipped! 💔

Characters: Bedrock Bros and Crime Boys

TW: Blood, impalement, death

The sound of metal clashing against each other echoed throughout the clearing, sparks flying as the blades parried each other. Tommy flinched at each hit, blue eyes wide in both terror and amazement at the deadly dance his brothers were now engaged in, and while his heart hammered in his chest in fear, he couldn't help but admire the skill and grace that accompanied the fight.

Techno moved with precision, each blow calculated, and body positioned in way that guaranteed he would be staying on the defensive. His actions weren't ones of a brother sparring, but that of a hunter going in for his prey. And he wouldn't stop until he captured it, and its blood fed his sword.

Wilbur, on the other hand, was much sloppier with his stance, but what he lacked in coordination, he made up with brute force, his hits managing to make Techno stumble before quickly regaining his footing again. The brunet was in no way on the same level as his brother, but he was a soldier first and foremost.

And a soldier defended his honor, even if it ended in his death. And if Tommy was certain of anything, it was that by the end of the day there would only be one of his brothers left standing.

He had TOLD Wilbur not to start an argument he couldn't win, but of course he didn't listen. He never listened to Tommy. No one did for that matter. And Techno wasn't any help, only adding fuel to the fire that was spreading way too quickly way too fast.

He just had to dig into Wilbur's insecurities, mock him over Phil's clear favoritism between the two. How sad was it that Phil cared more for his partner than his own son. The way the piglin glanced at Tommy as he said was enough evidence that that he felt the same way about Tommy.

Maybe a few years before, Tommy would have jumped to him and Wilbur's defense, argued that Phil loved them just as much. But he was older now and knew while Phil cared for his son in his own way, he never had anything to spare for the boy. Gone was the burning resentment that sparked in his chest every time their father ruffled Wilbur's hair or asked how his day was had long been replaced with indifference.

He had accepted that he had never really part of their make-shift family. He would always just be teetering on the edge of the rest of them, there but still forever isolated. But it wasn't as if he was new to the feeling, it seemed like he never really mattered that much to anyone after he fulfilled his duties.

Phil's little mistake. Techno's Theseus. Wilbur's loyal lapdog.

Now, there was nothing but an argument that could only be resolved in bloodshed.

"Come on, Techno, you can do better than this! Show me what the Blood God can do! Or all the rumors just fabrication, lies you came up with," Wilbur taunted, grin growing wider as the piglin's eyes flashed red, his blows becoming heavy with less hesitation in between.

The man continued to parry the blows, but he was slowly being pushed back. Tommy expected to see fear in Wilbur's expression, but all he saw was giddiness.

The boy's stomach dropped at the realization. Wilbur was enjoying this. Enjoying the feeling of making Techno crack, even if it costed him his life. Petty revenge. It made Tommy sick.

The tip of Techno's sword ripped through the fabric of Wilbur's coat, leaving a long stripe of red on his arm. Tommy gasped, and instinctively stumbled forward to help his older brother, but a warning growl from Techno stopped him in his tracks.

"Stand back, Tommy. This doesn't concern you," he warned, gaze once again settling on Wilbur, "The grownups are talking."

"Grownups?! You two are acting like fucking toddlers!" Tommy spat, before he could stop himself. The urge to apologize was as strong as ever, but he pushed it down. After everything, they still treated him like a dumb little kid. No matter what he did, he would never be their equal.