c!crimeboys and butterflies
thinking about that one c!crimeboys line, 'cause you get in people's heads, wil. You're like a little caterpillar. You go in through their ear, and you hatch a butterfly. Pretty soon, your brain's all just colors and flying...and then you're making the wrong decisions.' BUT you know that old hc that butterflies would follow post-revival tommy around because butterflies eat corpses? Not only has c!wilbur planted a 'butterfly' in Tommy's head, that butterfly is slowly (metaphorically) eating his brain from the inside out
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@ceretweek day 3: connect/companion
(yes i know ceret week ended in july. yes im still posting this 5 months late anyway)
how could i not do heartduo my beloved this year...eret and tommy have a great dynamic in the few times they've properly interacted, and their similar experiences with dream make them perfect for talks about the Horrors together <3
this comic also comes as a fic!! you can read the fic version under the cut :D
“He knew how to make you feel all… small, ‘n shit.”
Tommy’s voice cuts through the quiet sounds of the garden. Puffy had apparently told him connecting with nature was good for him, and he’d barged into Eret’s castle practically demanding to use their garden for the “low, low price of this weed.” Eret holds it in their hands now, the texture of the kelp flat and smooth against their fingertips, all while wondering why on earth Tommy had chosen to drag them down with him as he sprawled out in the grass and started rambling about things they didn’t quite follow.
“Pardon?” she mumbles.
Tommy tosses her a side-eyed look. “You know. He’d…He’d always be happiest when you’re alone. Like he’s the only thing you’ve got, and you’ve gotta depend on him for shit. Like a—like a bug or somethin’.”
“Parasite,” Eret finds herself supplying.
“Yeah!” That look again. Like he knows something Eret’s not quite in on. Or maybe she is.
There’s a rustling on Tommy’s side, a gentle lull in the rambling, and Eret finds herself speaking to fill the silence.
“He always—He always wanted to be the most important thing in the world to you. Like you’d live or die without him. Everything you say is just his words, everything you do and every choice you make is just what he wants. Like—like to him you’re just a p—”
She cuts herself off, throat tight. The noise of Tommy turning to look at her reaches her ears.
“Prey?”
“Pet.” She doesn’t turn to meet his gaze. “Puppet, maybe.”
“Entertainment.”
Something strikes in Eret’s stomach, cold and heavy. “...Yeah.”
Silence falls over them once again.
“I think,” Tommy announces after a while, “he was only there to watch.”
“Sit there, look pretty,” Eret recites in reply.
“Jee-sus Christ…” Violent twisting sounds and a loud, drawn-out sigh. “What a fucking dickhead.”
Eret doesn’t reply. His hands toy with the kelp, twisting it into knots over and over with minutely-shaking hands.
“Stop thinking so damn loud.”
“Wh—Ow!” A force hits the side of Eret’s face, wide and coarse. He sits up in indignation to stare at Tommy, who threw…Oh. He threw a flower crown at him.
Dandelions. Eret has weeds in his garden, apparently.
“Put it on, bitch.”
Eret puts it on. It fits perfectly, better than the crown Dream gave him ever did. His gaze turns to Tommy and the dirt around him, torn up and littered with the roots of dandelions.
“Did you get all the roots?”
Tommy glances at the mess around him. “Maybe? They’re strong fuckers, though. They’ll bounce back. Better than ever.”
Eret meets his eyes, uncovered white staring into icy blue, and they think they get it. They offer a wry smile and start tugging up the dandelions on their own side, recalling Tommy’s lessons on making flower crowns from so, so long ago.
“Yeah. We will.”
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