Blow Me Out Of Proportion(TNT DUO)

Broken Wings

The song will make sense I promise - Tyrese
CW - self destructive behavior, implications of past abuse/mistreatment, passing out
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For Wilbur, today was a day like any other. He got weird stares as one would when they've died, came back to life, then died and came back like ten years older— then started a country. But he had his brother, and it kept him sane.

He knew he wasn't a good person, and he honestly accepted the fact a long time ago. He knew if he couldn't be the good person, he'd just be the bad guy. At least he'd get a role, right?

But he stood at the work in progress that was his new country, Niki Jack and many others running around there homes and conversation going on while he sat on top of his favorite hillside smoking. Hillside might've been a weird name for it, but he didn't know what to actually call it.

It was right by the entrance, and he could lean against the sign that was inside of his country that welcomed you in. He got a great view from miles ahead and he loved it. It honestly was his safe spot, but he'd never tell anyone that.

Well he'd told Tommy, but Tommy wasn't just anybody to him. He was his family. His only family if he was the one to decide that. But sadly he wasn't, it was his weird family tree that was. He pushed the thoughts aside and got up to relight his cigarette when a hand slapped it away from him.

"What the he-" He started to scold, but he saw the bandages wrapped around pale arms and stopped. Of course it was Tommy. Nobody else would dare to disrespect him, yeah? Yeah.

"Will, you said you'd stop smoking. You're gonna be dead before you're- you're - how old are you even?" Tommy started to ramble until he realized he forgot his brothers age. He mentally yelled at himself but then forgave himself only a few seconds later. He'd aged ten years in the span of months, how was he supposed to know?

"Fourty two, and you just messed up my best lighter"Wilbur scolded, he pointed to the discarded (and broken) lighter that was at the bottom of the steep hill. From where they were sitting the drop was direct, enough to break a tree in half.

"You have more?" Tommy yelled back,

"Of course I have more!" Wilbur rolled his eyes and huffed like a child. Did Tommy think it was his first time? Of course he had more!

"You said you'd stop smoking." Tommys voice got smaller, but not enough to even be considered close to a inside voice.

"Sometimes people lie," Wilbur stated nonchalantly.

"Why would you lie to me?" Tommy sounded offended, betrayed almost. No no no.

"I lie to everyone, don't think you're special" Wilbur thought that sentence wouldn't sound too bad, he then realized it sounded just as bad. Worse, even.

"Wil for the love of God's stop smoking, you're gonna kill yourself" Tommy cried out and threw his hands in the air. Wilbur turned around from his little brothers temper tantrum and looked across. He saw a figure coming towards them, with wings that were jagged.

"Tommy-"

"Wil, listen to me"  Tommy continued, in his brat mode there was no way to get him to listen. Well, almost no way.

"Toms," Wilbur stated again.

"Wil-"

"Tommy! Over there," He shouted in his face, Tommy flinched but drew his attention to the situation at hand.

"Is that Big Q?" Tommy asked, but it was more rhetorical. Not many people had suspenders and golden wings. Not may had two rings on there finger because they refused to remove the one from a past love.

"He knows he's not welcome here, Tommy, go get your arrow"
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The grass under Quackitys feet was awfully Plush, making him wonder if the bed he had slept on was of any use. Schlatt barely gave him a bed, and when he did he couldn't sleep.

His insomnia might've peaked because of the anxieties of why he was given something so nice and what might happen. He might've just felt too comfortable, his body not being used to the feeling of lying in something so nice and not having to force sleep to come. It was a weird, heavy feeling.

He'd never learned to fly, and he couldn't now as his wings were broken from schlatts hands. He was told he would never make it out of there, and that was why he was so determined to do so. And he did he was on this open road that was paved by dirt and his own hands— halfway finished.

The grass around it was his favorite. So that's where he walked. Away from his ex husbands home, away from the country that scarred him. The one that had him execute his own son, the one that gave him this stupid, stupid scar. It felt like a war between his mind in some parts. The other were a clean image.

He knew he needed to get away from schlatt. But he loved him, he always had. He'd married him for gods sake. But he got angry and when he did he said things and did things he didn't mean. But then he wasn't drunk. Then he still did them. It made him wonder if he meant it or not.

The day his wings were broken gave him the answer.

Quackity paused in his tracks, he was trapped in the prison of his own thoughts. He took two deeps breathes
and sat down on the grass. Did he ever think about why it was his favorite? He should think about that. It was a calm, simple memory. No relations to the bad parts of his life. Before his world crumbled beneath his feet.

When Tubbo was little, and his relationship with schlatt was just a 'friendship'. Occasionally doing things behind closed doors, but a friendship is what they called. It was a word that prevented them from going further.

Schlatt had taken them to the road in which then had only been a field. Tubbo was running around and yelling as most children do in excitement, he saw a group of bees and picked a flower up to give to them.

He then ran around, talking and playing with the bees. That was Quackitys favorite memory of the before. Before everything went to shit, and before he was running away from his problems.

Oh yeah, that was what he was doing- wasn't he?

His vision was all foggy but he had an idea of what he was doing. He was leaving, running as far away as he could. He'd try to fly but deep down he knew that flying right now would make them heal all crooked, and he'd never fly again. It was the one freedom he had, he couldn't let it be taken away.

He quickly stood to his feet, leaving the memories behind him to fade away. He started walking again, hoping that maybe a place would come in view. A place he could stay, at least. Maybe Snow Chester, maybe Eggpire? He could stay there, they would at least not kill him. He would be able to go anywhere but Pogtopia. He was sure of it.

But as he started getting closer to a town that had no sign, and he saw no one at he continued towards it. Quackity hoped it was abandoned. Or if it was at least not full of people that would hate him.

So that's why when he saw a tuff of blond hair in the distance, and an arrow at the persons side he froze.

"Tommy, grab him" A voice yelled out, probably barking our something more as a command than an order. Or were those the same thing? The anxiety that was plaguing his mind seemed to make him tired, and he didn't have much energy left in the first place.

Oh fuck, it was Wilbur.

Suddenly his eyelids fell closed, and he finally slept. Of course he had slept before but, it wasn't enough. He had left in the middle of the night and therefore he had been walking for god knows how long and he collapsed.

So thankfully, he wasn't killed on the spot.
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I hope you enjoyed this :D lmk what you think about this story!! Im actually really excited for this tbh - Tyrese