#aliveburs hello! | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

vapemaster42069 · 1 year

Note

🤡 ⛔ 🦅

:D hello!!

🤡: i have a little unposted thing imma stick under a readmore below because i was hysterically giggling the entire thing i wrote it and idk if i'll ever post it lols. here: !!

⛔: oh my gosh, so many. i'm notorious for starting fics and never completing them because of one reason or another; usually i lose inspiration or get a new idea to hop on. most recently, i was planning a 20+ chapter fic that i had about a half planned and a third written that follows a scarian life series+hermitcraft timeline. mainly, i wanted to write the angst bc that's waht i enjoy lols. (ok so. respongin to this actually inspired me to finish a scene so i might end up posting at least one part somewhere lmao, can always rely on you for inspo :] ). uhh, another one was just a party during the hc/empires crossover, one was a jrwi riptide hamlet au, there was a thanatos backstory thing that was Very similiar to Kaladin from TWoK if you're into that, there was a southlands coffeeshop/pottery class thing, much ado twelfth night au because i thought the convolution was funny, and a lot of chatfic-style crack stuff that i live for but will Never see the light of day

🦅: depends on the fic! i have a doc where i scribble down ideas, quotes, or good sentences, so sometimes i'll go off that and ball with whatever strikes inspiration, but i do have a tendency to do specific au's where i know where it's going! (rip jrwi twelfth night au draft you will be missed. ao3 draft deletion hates me fr). kinda off-topic but i feel like i frequently have a starting point and an ending point, especially for longer works, and i have a really hard time filling in the in-between scenes! probably, i should outline more than i do lmao.

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

"Joel, have you gotten shorter?"

"I- What? No!"

"No, I swear you look shorter." Grian paused and backed up, looking him up and down quizzically. He rubbed his chin to hide the quirk of a smug smile. "Scar, come look at Joel. Does he look any shorter to you?"

Scar, who had been slowly picking the leaves off of a plant, wheeled around. "Hey, yeah, he does, now that you mention it!"

"Scar!"

"Weren't you like 11 foot last time I saw you? You only look like 10'8 now," He leaned back in his chair, lifting a hand as well to scratch at his beard.

"Must have taken out the lifts in his shoes," Grian nodded sagely.

"Grian!"

"Little Timmy's rubbing off on you now, Joel--"

"I do not have lifts in my shoes!"

"--Every time you visit him, you get smaller."

"I do not-- I am not-- wait! I'm 11 foot, still!"

"It's okay, Joel," Grian couldn't hide the amused lilt in his voice, "Us short kings have to stick together."

"Us-- HUH? I am not a short king!"

"What's this about short kings?" Sausage, ever with good timing, strolled around the corner and casually leaned on a fencepost next to Grian, propping an elbow on his shoulder. He leaned over and promptly toppled over with a yelp when the unsupported pole moved, before Grian hopped out of the way, grabbing him before he could smack his head on the ground. "I love sho-- waAAAH-- thank you, Grian--I love short kings. I am a short king! What do you have against short kings, Thunder Cheeks?"

"Hold on--"

"Nothing, Sausage! I'm just not one!"

"--Thunder Cheeks?" Grian squeaked.

"Oh, yeah, Joel's Thunder Cheeks, or Thunder Daddy! When his cheeks clap, thunder happens!"

"... I don't know how to respond to that,"

"Which cheeks?"

"Scar!"

"Whichever ones you want to,"

"Joel."

"That an offer?"

"Scar."

"Only if you want it to be,"

"Joel, I swear to god,"

Sausage giggled, his eyes alight. He had, evidently, already had his third cup of coffee today, based on his buzzy hands as he spoke. "You know what we gotta do, the four of us, is go to my tavern sometime! It could be like a double date, I'll show you a dance!"

"Like a-- no, Sausage, we aren't-- I mean, I haven't--" Grian could feel his face burning, "Scar, back me up here,"

"I'd love to go on a double date with you, Sausage! Would Joel and Grian be together, then?"

"Uhh. I mean, sure! Totally..." Sausage sideyed Grian, who looked away, desperately fanning his face to try to ease his blushing. It wasn't working very well, "So, you and I, and Grian and Joel! it's a date!"

"A double date! Oh my gosh, Grian, I'm so excited, we gotta get you out of that red sweater and into something snazzy?"

"I-- Scar, I look so snazzy in this sweater!"

"I mean," Scar wiggled his fingers at Grian, his eyes lighting up, "You're adorable with it on--" Grian squeaked. "--but not formal, like for a date! Come on, let's get dressed up all fancy!"

Sausage clapped his hands, bouncing on the balls of his feet. "Ooh, Scar, I might have this beautiful vest that might fit you, if you need one? The color would really pop on you."

"Oh, maybe! I could show you the shirt I had in mind, if you'd like!"

"I'd love to! Oh my goodness I'm so excited, maybe we could match shirts..." Sausage trailed off as he dragged Scar away by the hand, grinning, going a nerve-wracking speed down one of the hills surrounding Sanctuary, towards the nether portal.

"In about 5 seconds we're going to hear a crash, aren't we,"

"Most likely." Joel turned to Grian, a smug look on his face. "Anyways, Grian."

"Don't you dare."

Joel grinned, crouching down to his height. Grian scowled. It was a bit funny, as Joel was approximately 6 feet taller than Grian was, so he was fully doubled over in a squat to meet his eyes. "Got your eyes on someone, pretty bird?"

Grian covered his face, pressing the heels of his palms into his eyes. "Joel, I swear to god--"

"I won't tell him!” Grian looked up at him.

“Promise?”

“Promise. But I can’t guarantee I won't never blackmail you for it,”

Grian sighed. “I guess that’s all I can hope for,”

“Are you– is it that uncomfortable to go on a double-date with him there? Because, I mean, I could invite some other Empires members too if you think it’d help. Make it more like a server party than a date?”

“That–” Grian paused, looking extremely relieved, “I don’t want to ruin it for you and Sausage, but that would be a lifesaver, I think.”

“Then it’s done! We can probably drag Timmy in, and if he comes, Tango and Scott will come, which will get Oli, and Sausage can get Keralis, which means Jev will come, and I can probably get Lizzy, who will get Doc and Impulse, and– Well, we can figure out the specifics later, I’ll text Sausage.”

Grian sighed. "Well, what are you wearing?"

"Uhh. This?"

"You're wearing that to our date? Wow, Joel. I see how it is," Grian mock-pouted.

"What's wrong with what I'm wearing?" Joel startled, playfully indignant.

"It's not bad, you just wear it every day!" Grian winked, "Let's get snazzy."

#sorry this took so long was working on an essay!#aliveburs hello!#pickle answers #heehee #my writing

3 notes · View notes

cobble-stone · 2 years

Note

🌹

“How did he even get here, clinging so tightly to someone who may as well be a stranger.”

might’ve already shared this one- oops

#hello aliveburs hope you’re having a good day :)#ask games

3 notes · View notes

crimeboys · 8 months

Text

hello this is cyrus aliveburs simply put i deleted my blog due to being a fucking dumbass 👍👍

#text post #mine

283 notes · View notes

newlmanburgs · 1 year

Note

(Wilbur spends a bit longer wading in the darkness before he starts to see concrete walls. For once, he moves faster toward them, the echoes of his boots hitting the floor bouncing around the station.)

Ghostbur? Are you here?

-@songbird-sunrise

(Kneeling in front of the back wall is Ghostbur. There's more drawings on the wall: grass, flowers, and a simple doodle of Wilbur.)

(He gasps, turning toward the familiar voice.) Hello? Alivebur? What are you doing here? How did you-

#I hope you don't mind if I come here to cry (songbird-sunrise)

254 notes · View notes

apileofmoss · 10 months

Text

tgm inspired me to draw this and im glad i did look at xem. hello gongeous (w/o cloak under cut)

main art taglist: @snaxle @neonkoii @areus-in-a-little-cave @aiilov-c @cupsmp @cnnamonrolls @yourfriendphoenix @wiiwarechronicles @tee-gee-em @tweewig @omegamoo @t3rm1n0s @atthebell @avid-dust-collector @marszstar @frauggietheperson @cripplecrisis @exerjack @possuminnit @dyketango @coffeeflavored-tears @aliveburs @meeowerzz @routeriver @qjaiden @faglovesongs (ask to be added/removed)

#the anatomy is a little off but.whocare #mossisgay #artistic nudity #mverse #milfverse #suggestive

178 notes · View notes

calmthefuckdownalright · 1 year

Note

Hello hello! I was gonna ask if I could request a Ghostbur x reader who’s also a ghost, but near polar opposite of him, like for example they don’t show much emotion, don’t normally get attached to people and react very numbly to things. Sorry if this is really specific, love your work btw!

Title: I Think I Died For You

Summary: You'd been a lost soul in the Greater Dream SMP for a while and after Schlatt died you thought you might finally get a friend. Then Wilbur happened.

Pairing: Ghostbur x Ghost!Reader

<><><><><><><>

No one remembered how you died. There were theories based off your ghost wounds but no one could really tell. Ghost research wasn't all that inclusive and hardly anyone knew anything about your kind. Answers were thought to be available once Schlatt died hoping that his ghost would return and data could be recorded.

But no. The bastard had to enjoy the Afterlife and not have any shit left to do on the living plane.

Then Wilbur happened. You'd met him a few times, Alivebur, in passing and had formed a few theories yourself once he died. You'd kind of hoped Schlatt's ghost would've been your first friend but that obviously backfired so the newly introduced Ghostbur was your next bet.

"Oh! You're a ghost too! That's so cool!" Ghostbur gasped and examined you closely. You watched as he flickered with excitement.

"Uh yeah I guess." You shrugged and answered question after question from your fellow ghost.

"How'd you die?"

"No one knows."

"What's your name?"

"*insert ghost name*."

"Do you have any family?"

"None that I know of."

"Do you not like me much Y/N?" Ghostbur asked and you stopped walking alongside him.

"What makes you think that?" You raised an eyebrow and watched as the sleeve of Ghostbur's sweater folded over his palm and rubbed the back of his neck.

"You just seem very bored and unhappy. Here, try some blue." Ghostbur handed you a handful of the famous 'blue.' Tommy had told you about it when he came back from exile. When you first really met Ghostbur.

"No no Ghostbur, I'm not sad or upset. I just..." You paused thinking of your words. "I just don't really feel anything." You shrugged and out on a faltering smile. You didn't smile often and Ghostbur had never seen you do so before.

"Your smile is really pretty Y/N." He said and a blue hue rose to his face around his cheeks and across his nose similar to a blush.

"Thank you Ghostbur." This time the smile seemed more genuine than forced and Ghostbur turned away as the two of you walked on.

Ghostbur hung out with you most days. You both went and made potions in his sewer with you taking notes on recipes and him venting our or explaining the many wonderful things he'd seen or did. He tried to remember things too and you seemed to help him.

It wasn't long till suspicious questions were made and answers demanded. Specifically from one sneaky fellow who was one of the ones who had probably been hurt the most by Alivebur and the most spiteful for it.

"Why do you hang out so much with my father?" Fundy asked you.

"I don't think that's any of your business, Fundy." You said and twirled a piece of string around your translucent fingers. The sun was going down and you sat comfortably on the haybales parked outside Wilbur's sewer entrance.

"Answer the question Y/N." Fundy demanded. You turned your head to him and raised a ghostly brow.

"I didn't know you still thought so kindly of Ghostbur. Wasn't Eret supposed to adopt you? Because Wilbur's too dead for you to care about despite him still technically being around." You fired your shot. Over the months, the year, you'd gotten to known Ghostbur you had to admit you'd grown fond of him.

Still though you told yourself it was only because he was the only way to get answers of how YOU worked.

"Tread lightly Y/N, I just want to know what business you have with Ghostbur." Fundy growled a little and you swapped the string for a sword.

"Your father, dead to you as he may be, is my only way to know anything about what I am. He's my answer and happens to be quite a lovely person as well so if you've got a problem with me answering my questions," you hopped off the wagon of hay and twirled the sword before stabbing it into the ground with the grace of a skilled soldier.

"Then I advise you leave before someone gets hurt." You hissed.

Fundy didn't talk to you after that. No one did really besides Ghostbur and you were find with that. Another year passed and another and another. Soon you found yourself calling Ghostbur your friend. You stayed out of his affairs. Technoblade, Phil, Tommy, Dream. Everyone who Ghostbur was involved with you stayed away from.

It was strange to be so alone while Ghostbur spent time with his other friends but you welcomed the silence to try and find answers in your catalog of memories with Ghostbur. Cross referencing them with what little you knew of Alivebur.

Alivebur had been off-putting. Manic and cold. Insane in summary.

Ghostbur was kind and sweet. Warm and caring in every single way.

They were opposites. Ends of the spectrum. Red and Blue. Guilty and Innocent.

It got you thinking about your own situation. Compared to Ghostbur's. Ghostbur was clingy and overwhelming sometimes while you had hardly been around more than two people at once for more than ten minutes.

You were like Alivebur. Secluded and introverted. A wallflower if you will. Ghostbur was your opposite just as he was compared to his alive version. So what did that mean for you?

Obviously no one really knew but you theorized that maybe, just maybe, you had been kind and sweet in your living life. Innocent and blue. Surrounded by friends and people who cared about you. So how come no one remembered you or how you died?

Maybe you hadn't been surrounded by friends and family. Or maybe they all died with you but you were the only one that was required to stick around.

"Y/N? You okay?" Ghostbur poked his head into the sewer room where you sat now. It was quiet and hardly anyone came by so you chose it as your thinking place.

"Oh yes I'm fine Ghostbur. Just trying to find some answers." You sent him a smile and your ghostly friend came and sat beside you on the damp concrete. He looked over your shoulder with his chin resting on it and read your handwriting on the pages. Ghostbur knew he was your only look at how Ghosts worked besides yourself.

"Alivebur wasn't very secluded. Try secretive sure, but not secluded." Ghostbur pointed to your note and a smudge of blue came from his fingertips.

"You remember Alivebur?" You asked him.

"Not really..." Ghostbur muttered and leaned into you more similar to a child embarrassed by how smart they were. "I remember things better when you're around." He admitted.

Ah...there it was. That blue blush crept on Ghostbur again and you felt a similar warmth you thought incapable of having, being dead and everything, spread to your own face.

"I'm sorry if that made you uncomfortable. Things just seem to make more sense when you're here. Like the puzzle pieces finally fit." Ghostbur wrung his hands together and fiddled with some blue. He stayed leaning against you and a real smile worked it's way to your lips.

"It's okay Ghostbur. Things seem clearer when you're with me as well." You said softly and ran a hand across his dark grey curls before placing a kiss to his head.

Ghostbur looked up at you and saw the smile which caused his own. You shifted your body and his head fell to your lap where you combed your fingers through his hair and he kissed your hands every few minutes.

You were ghosts together. Dead and alive in a sewer with potions brewing and questions standing unanswered.

"I think you were supposed to die so I could find you darling." Ghostbur said. You knew he didn't mean it in a bad way so in a sense it seemed sweet.

"I think you were supposed to die so I wouldn't be alone anymore. I don't know how I'll go on if you get revived or some shit." You chuckled and Ghostbur laughed with you.

"I don't want to live again if it means you're alone." Ghostbur smiled up at you and for what felt like the first time you swore your heart skipped in your cold still chest.

Bonus

"Tommy, you said it'd be okay!"

He was gone now. Ghostbur. Your Ghostbur. And a man so different from him and so much like you replaced him in the living world.

Revivebur. You hated him. He was everything Ghostbur wasn't. He wasn't kind or sweet. He didn't smile with warmth despite the coldness of his aminate corpse.

Reivebur was more dead than Ghostbur ever was and you hated it.

"Send me to him. Please." You begged the sky as you mourned. Silent tears and hissing skin as rain pittered down onto you.

"Is this your dying wish?" A voice echoed behind you and you whirled around to be faced with none other than the god himself. XD.

"I will die for him yes." You pleaded and there was a pain so sharp in your chest it was like a bullet.

Then there was grass and blue skies and sunshine again. The air was sweet and clean without a trace of lingering gunpowder and sorrow.

"Darling?" That cracking voice reached you and you spotted him. Your Ghostbur waiting for you.

"I'm here." You laughed and ran to him. The meadow around seemed to become brighter when you touched and both your hands burst into color.

"What's happening?" Ghostbur seemed confused as his former monochrome skin became a sandy beige and his charcoal hair a mess of fluffy brown. Your own skin gained its color and your hair shined with its hue.

Blue stained Ghostbur's sweater still and your own colored blood matched where your former dying wounds were. The Afterlife had given you both a chance.

"We get to live now Ghostbur. Together." You beamed and Ghostbur's skin flushed pink.

"Wow, you're even more beautiful in color." Ghostbur smiled and pulled you in for a kiss.

The air was warm. The sky was bright. Together the ghosts built a life where no one could take it away. They lived their death till the end of their days.

Huffing breaths and clouds covering the skies. A smile and a streak of white in h/c hair.

"I'm alive?" You asked the world and saw a crater before you. Then a man in a long Cao and white cutting through brown curls.

"Who are you?" He asked.

"Y/N..." You panted and got to your feet, shaky on your no longer numb toes. "I've been dead for....so so long." You laughed and looked around. "Where am I?"

<><><><><><>

Hope that was okay anon and I appreciate you sending in the request! I thought it'd be fitting to explain my theory on how Ghosts worked on the Dream SMP in this.

I think they simply become the opposite of their living self. So say the reader's living self was cheery and attached easily. Avoided conflict and possibly even responsibility which may or may not have ended in their death.

After being dead for so long I think it's possible they changed drastically just as Revivebur sort of did. He became more empathetic later on and went on to apologize to the ones he hurt while the reader's living self would have a more immediate change due to being dead for so so long.

They would become aggressive and cold. Insane possibly or just impulsive.

But yes I hope you all enjoyed and I'll see you all very soon ✌🏻.

Edit: forgot to mention that the ending in the bonus was simply a little thought as to what I think Ghostbur deserved instead of the train station. Wilbur still stayed there but after Ghostbur was revived he was transported to the meadow depicted above as his true final resting place. I like to think that the train station is a limbo which means he can still come back. Even though the SMP is over for now it still helps me to not cry every time I think of Wilbur's canon ending.

#dream smp #dsmp au #dsmp #Ghostbur x reader #ghost!reader #Revivebur #c!wilbur #c!wilbur soot x reader #c!wilbur soot

112 notes · View notes

ghosts-and-blue-sweaters · 9 months

Note

ghostbur and limbobur interaction, no interaction, whatever. just mmmm the parallels and then coexisting in different realms is enough. you can see I am very normal about my bois yes.

They take up 90% of my brain space

VERY GOOD IDEA YES YES!!! I’ve actually been wanting to write about Ghostbur and Wilbur, specifically set in Limbo, so this was a good motivator to actually write that :D

~~~

I seem to be inside a train station, Ghostbur thought, taking in the worn signs and maps posted to the walls and the flickering schedule fixed to the ceiling, pixelated words reading: do you remember what the sun feels like?

As Ghostbur stared, pondering this strange question—of course he remembered what the sun felt like! He felt it on his skin everyday, and he loved to sit and watch it move lazily across the sky, and he quite enjoyed the feeling of warmth on his closed eyelids—a voice broke his thoughts, scattering them like smoke.

“What are you?”

Ghostbur blinked, turning around.

Across the train tracks, on a platform identical to Ghostbur’s own, stood a man wearing a long brown coat. His eyes were wide, and they were brown.

Brown…

Ghostbur wanted to say hello, and wave, and perhaps talk about the sun, but he did not.

Instead, he was quiet.

Strangely, he felt very afraid.

He felt very afraid.

“What are you?” The man repeated, voice quivering like leaves in autumn that just barely clung to their branches, always being blown away in the end. He took a step—though forward or backward, Ghostbur couldn’t tell. “Are you a mirage? A vision?”

There was a pause.

“Like a- like an illusion? Like a magic trick?” The man snapped his fingers. “Is a bloody rabbit going to jump out of your hat?”

“I’m not wearing a hat,” Ghostbur murmured, before he could remember that he wanted to stay quiet.

The man shut his mouth with a snap.

It seemed as if a chasm greater than train tracks was settled between them.

Ghostbur still felt very afraid, but he didn’t run.

“You look- you sound like me. Why do you sound like me?” The man sounded panicked, eyes growing wider and exposing more of the whites inside them. “Why do you look like me? Why do you have my face? Why do you have my freaking face?”

Ghostbur took a small step backwards.

The man stared at him. His stare was very sharp, almost piercing. Like a sword, or the tip of a knife.

A thought drifted into Ghostbur’s mind, quiet and heavy and instantaneously right. “Are you Alivebur?”

“What… what’s an Alivebur?”

Ghostbur gazed at the man, tilting his head to the side.

Wilbur gazed back, swallowing. His forehead was growing shiny with sweat.

“Is this where you live now?” Ghostbur asked, taking another look around. “In a train station?”

Wilbur paused. “I- yes, in a… train station.”

“Is this what death looks like?” Ghostbur stopped looking around, turning his attention back to Wilbur. Wilbur, the dead man, who died on November sixteenth, which was two and a half weeks ago.

Wilbur blinked. “You didn’t answer my bloody question.”

“Oh.” Then it was Ghostbur who blinked. “What was-“

“What are you? Are you me? Are you my doppelgänger, my clone? A trick?” Wilbur began to pace, back and forth across his platform. Ghostbur watched him.

Wilbur’s shoes made very loud clicks against the floor.

“I think I’m your ghost!” Ghostbur supplied.

Wilbur’s gait faltered. “My ghost?”

“Yes!” Ghostbur nodded, trying to be excited even though he felt mostly scared. “I’m like you except I don’t do bad things or blow up nations! I don’t start fires!”

Wilbur continued pacing, wringing his hands together. “You don’t start fires?”

“No! I don’t start fires that I can’t put out.” He paused. “I think you did that a lot.”

Wilbur chuckled, though it sounded much more like a choke. “Brilliant. Just brilliant.”

“What is?”

Wilbur stopped walking so suddenly that his coat rushed forward and his hair flopped. He glared at Ghostbur with eyes that were far more dangerous than lightning. “You. Me, this.”

He gestured at the train station, and his sharp hands struck Ghostbur as if he’d been physically hit. Ghostbur flinched.

~~~

There’s actually quite a bit more that I’ve written for this :0 But this was the section that made the most sense, I felt like. Still working on the rest!

This has become a full on fic alsgaksgkafsjs and I’m not too sure when I’ll finish it, so I wanted to go ahead and share at least a bit of what I have :D

#EXCITINGGGGG #I could ramble so much about this but I need to get off tumblr and go to a pizza restaurant lol #BUT I MIGHT RAMBLE LATER HAHA #thank you so much for this prompt!! I hope you like :)#my stories #ask #story snippet #ghostbur #c!wilbur #wilbur soot #DSMP Wilbur #Wilbur DSMP #DSMP ghostbur #ghostbur dsmp

28 notes · View notes

songbird-sunrise · 1 year

Text

Hello, Ghostbur. It’s me again. Alivebur, if you will.

It’s March 10th. A week away from a month since I last spoke to you. I thought I’d give you another little update

Tommy and I started another little business venture. We sell estrogen now. It instantly works instead of a gradual process. There’s not even any side effects

We’ve even got a building set up for it. Tommy built this massive cock in the middle of Las Nevadas for it

Actually, do you even know what Las Nevadas is, Ghostbur? It’s Big Q’s country that he built. It’s a fake desert with scorpions that he imported himself. Isn’t that bloody ridiculous? Imagine wanting your facade of a country to be real so bad that you hand pick scorpions to import into it

Anyway, despite all that, I’m actually in Las Nevadas with Big Q right now. He once told me that he asked you to live with him, and you said no. This time, though, I said yes. It’s been nice here, way better than anywhere else we’ve lived. Well, except L’manberg, but...you don’t need me to tell you that lol

I should get going. Quackity wants to go to bed. I’ll talk to you soon, Ghostbur

#songbird chirps #maybe forgiveness is right where you fell (newlmanburgs)#soul meets body (arc)

49 notes · View notes

peninkwrites · 6 months

Note

trick or treat ^-^

Hello Cyrus Crimebeach nee Aliveburs!! Sorry I do not have any crimeboys dancing on the beach content for you, but here is some crimeboys nonetheless!

Here's a lil fun fact that I threw in the discord back in the day idk if you know Anything about the mafia au or this one reddit post but. crimeboys silly.

(here's the OG post)

That annoying child saved my life >be depressed, suicidal, cigarette addicted incel >one day I go to stay at my friend Niki’s place >she has a little brother. Never seen anything like it before >she tells me the annoying kid that robbed me the other night is a good kid who hangs around a lot >I rope him into my schemes of elaborately trying to die via enemy gunfire >the kid almost gets blown up by a car bomb >realize that I almost killed him with my apathy >realize I need to take responsibility for once in my life >quit cigarettes to support my little brother spending >start putting an effort into job hunting so I can get a good job for my little brother >relationship with Niki improves since I’m at least showing up for someone even if I failed her >become a better person who wants to live even if right now it's just for someone else

So here's the funny bits from the mafia au lmao i hope you can appreciate the vibes even without context <3 called this chapter in my notes "hehehe shrimp time :)" for months.

#ask games #ty for the ask!#crimebeach #i don't think i've posted this to tumblr before #what can ya do #mafia au

5 notes · View notes

eonash · 1 year

Text

Sunrise

Alivebur x Female!Reader

Summary: Wilbur is resurrected and back in the overworld, but reader doesn’t seem to happy about this…

Warnings: Angst-ish?

Word Count: 352

A/N: i just really like alivebur, must i say more?

Master List | Tag List

@gaminggirlsstuff @alexxavicry

⋆

The man was hunched over and looking down at the ground. He held a pair of glasses in one hand. Wilbur set his signature glasses on his face. He turned around slowly to where Y/N was.

“Hello again, Y/N.” Wilbur greeted in a low and unmistakable tone. Y/N stared hard at the man before her. He was back again. He was… here. But Ghostbur, where was he? Y/N thoughts soon faded as her attention was diverted to Wilbur moving around on the terrain. He went toward a candle that was seen on the floor (one that she had placed before in memory of Wilbur). This candle was now surprisingly lit.

“I have been waiting for over a decade in darkness…” Wilbur went on, kneeling down to the lit candle. He was mere inches away from touching the open flame with his bare hands, but he kept his distance. He stood up tall again, smiling to himself as he looked on behind him. A sunrise.

Wilbur breathed a breath of relief. “This is my sunrise… This is mine! I’m alive!” Wilbur would laugh, raising his arms in the air. He would look back on Y/N. Whom, was still surprised by the whole appearance of Wilbur and debating on how to approach things.

“Y/N?” Wilbur began, making his way towards her, but Y/N took a step back. When Wilbur saw this action, he stayed put where he was. “What’s wrong? You haven’t stopped looking at me like that since this all.”

“I-I… don’t know what you mean?” Y/N questioned the man, crossing her arms over her chest.

Wilbur scoffed with a smile, he walked forward again and this time Y/N didn’t budge. “I know how you are– I know that look on your face. What is it?”

Y/N opened her mouth to speak, but nothing came out. Instead she shook her head.

“Come on, love. Y-You remember me, don’t you? What’s got you so blue?”

Y/N’s eyes widened at Wilbur’s words. She shook her head, putting on a fake smile. “It’s nothing, Wil.”

#dsmp #dsmp fanfic #wilbur soot #alivebur #wilbur soot x reader #alivebur x reader

28 notes · View notes

cyrushatesdykes · 10 months

Text

@aliveburs hello.

6 notes · View notes

steppingstonesuniverseguide · 8 months

Text

One More Step Out of the Pit: Chapter 13/26

Summary: It had been Tommy and Tubbo for practically forever. They clawed their way out of hell together. They discovered their superpowers together. They started working for the Superhero Guild together before even coming of age. Tommy probably owed Tubbo his life ten times over. So, when the three supervillains he'd been assigned to bring in managed to take Tubbo hostage, well, there was really only one thing to do.

He knew, of course, he was signing himself up for torture and death by offering that trade, but that was okay.

It'd have to be okay.

AO3 Link (See AO3 for Warnings.)

(This story is finished and has been posted on AO3 for a while, but I'm posting it on Tumblr so it's somewhere else too (considering the day AO3 was down a bit ago). The author notes will all be kept as well. If you are following the blog and don't want to see these posts, block the tag #backlog.)

“Technoblade,” a voice called, causing Techno to jerk awake from a deep sleep. His eyes landed on the figure hovering at the end of his bed. “Technoblade, hello,” he said, waving when he saw Techno was awake.

“Ugh. Do you have to watch me sleep?” Techno asked.

“I’m not watching you sleep,” Ghostbur said. “I’m waking you up.”

Techno sat up, rubbing his eyes. “Why?” he asked tiredly.

“You need to watch Tommy,” Ghostbur told him.

“Wilbur was going to watch Tommy,” Techno said with a stifled yawn.

“Yeah,” Ghostbur said, “but then he fell asleep.”

“So?” Techno asked. “You watch him then.”

“I can’t,” Ghostbur said with a frown. “I need to go do something.”

“Schlatt can wait one night. I’m sure he won’t fall back into alcoholism and make a deal with the devil that fast.”

“I’m not going to go see Schlatt.”

“Then what?” Techno asked. “All you do is talk to Schlatt and stare at me or Phil while we sleep.”

“Tommy asked me to check on his Tubbo?”

“…His what-o?” Technoblade asked.

“His Tubbo,” Ghostbur said, as though repeating the word clarified anything. Techno gave him a blank look and he started his ‘bouncing’ which was really just him hovering higher and then lower in a rhythm. “His friend! They’re really quite close, you know. Tommy’s worried he might be sad.”

“Tubbo,” Techno repeated. He was not quite awake enough for this conversation. Or for Ghostbur in general. “Tubbo is… the hero we kidnapped?” he guessed.

“Uh huh. I promised Tommy I’d check on him!”

Now, Technoblade’s brain was still in the process of waking up, but something in what Ghostbur had just said struck Techno as odd. “You know his friend’s name is Tubbo,” Techno said slowly. “And you somehow know where this Tubbo is to check on him.”

Ghostbur must have realized his mistake because the bouncing stopped abruptly until he was almost sitting on the bed and his glowing eyes went wide.

“Ghostbur,” Techno said patiently. “Have you been keeping secrets?”

“W-well you have to understand Technoblade,” he started to babble. “It really is Awakebur’s fault. He can be quite stubborn you know and kind of mean, and well, I did follow Tommy home from HQ the first time because Awakebur wanted to know more about him, but you see Techno he was really sad. And he is quite little, just a baby really. Did you know he’s only 16? And actually 16, 16 not like me or you at 16. Far too young to be doing hero work. I don’t know what they were thinking. And he lives in a little dirty apartment and doesn’t eat nearly enough. He and his Tubbo leave notes around for each other because the heroes were mean and don’t let them work at the same times, so they barely see each other and Tommy gets the bed all dirty because he’s always too tired to shower when he gets home, but Tubbo never says anything because he knows Dream is far too hard on him. And, and Alivebur would be mean, because he decided he doesn’t like him very much. You know how people who are alive can be oh so testy about things. It’s really silly, you know. So, I decided to forget about those things when I’m awake. He is tiny Technoblade.”

“…Will” Techno sighed, pinching his brow.

“And, and, you living people are so vulnerable when you’re sleeping. He’s awake right now, but what if he falls asleep and he’s alone. He can’t be alone. He��s too little. You have to watch him Technoblade. Please?”

Techno could tell Ghostbur was not in the mood to listen to reason. Even if Tommy was 16, that was definitely not too ‘little’ to sleep alone, especially when locked in a secure underground facility no one knew the location of. The ghost clearly did not see it that way, but to be fair, he had a hard time letting Phil sleep alone some nights. “Ugh, fine,” Techno groaned, resigning himself to his exhaustion. He reached over to flip on his lamp.

“Oh, thank you Technoblade!” Ghostbur cooed. “You are such a good little brother.”

Techno’s head whipped around to face him. “Don’t start that shit. We are not related! I have lived longer than you.” Probably. Ghostbur just gave him a mischievous smile. “You’re lucky I can’t smother you with a pillow again,” he grumbled.

Ghostbur just chuckled, sounding for a moment more like he did when he was awake. “Go babysit,” he requested as he faded out of sight.

“You stained my sheets blue!” Techno realized when he vanished. “Why do I even bother trying to have pink ones?”

After pulling on a green hoodie that was actually Phil’s and deciding contacts were definitely not worth it at this time of night and thus forgoing the mask in favor of glasses, Techno took the steps downstairs, grumbling all the way.

Tommy looked up from his place on the bed when Techno shoved open the door to the cell, seeming surprised. Techno had to pause at the sight of him. Ghostbur had apparently gone wild because blue stained his nose and forehead as well as his bedsheets. Apparently Ghostbur had taken it upon himself to decide the Will-please-not-the-face rule was not in place for Tommy because there was clear intent behind the kiss shaped mark above his eye. He might as well have written the word ‘mine’ across his forehead in permanent marker. Fucking, possessive bastard. That wouldn’t be coming off for days.

“What are you doing here?” the kid asked.

“Ghostbur said you were awake and that I should keep you company.”

“I don’t need company,” he grumbled.

“Too bad,” Techno said airily. He eyed Wilbur’s slumped over form leaning against the bed. Idiot. He’d complain all day if he woke with a kink in his neck from sleeping like that. With a shake of the head, Techno turned to the large pile of pillows and blankets Phil had panic gathered in fear Tommy might be cold and began spreading them all out in one corner of the room. He kicked the pile around until it looked comfortable enough and then walked over to where Wilbur sat. He carefully scooted the chair back from the bed, catching his body as it tried to fall forward. He made a confused sound in his sleep. “Hush you, it’s just me,” Techno told him. “Stay asleep.” He carefully slipped one arm under his knees and the other under his shoulder blades. Despite the bit of jostling maneuvering him so he was clutched to Techno’s chest caused, he headed Techno’s order to continue sleeping. He carried him over to the corner and laid him out on the pile of blankets, tossing one over him.

Tommy was staring at him when he turned back. Techno waited for whatever thing he wanted to say, but nothing came.

“What?” he finally asked, tired of the unplanned staring contest.

“You forgot your mask.”

“Didn’t forget,” Techno said. “Didn’t want to put my contacts in.”

“Don’t you have, like, a secret identity?”

Techno shrugged, unconcerned. He honestly wore the mask more for the aesthetic and Phil didn’t even wear one. The only one who really wandered around the city and could possibly be recognized was Will and that cat was out of the bag thanks to a certain ghost. The kid started gnawing on his lip again. “Stop that you’re going to bleed,” Techno scolded.

“Fuck you, I do what I want.”

“You want to bleed?”

“Is that a threat?” Tommy asked, bristling defensively to Techno’s confusion. “‘Cause I’m pretty sure Philza said you can’t hurt me right now, and he might be your dad or whatever, but you still shouldn’t piss him off.”

“It’s not a threat,” Techno told him, resisting rolling his eyes. “I’m not planning to hurt you. I was commenting on you hurting yourself.” The words seemed to sooth him a bit. “Also, Philza’s my friend, not my dad.”

Tommy tilted his head. “Ghostbur said Phil adopted you when you were six.” Fucking Ghostbur.

“Legally,” Techno said, “but we’re actually just friends.”

“You were six.”

“It’s complicated,” Techno said. “What else did he tell you?”

“Not much…” Tommy said. “Just stuff about how being a ghost works… and his name… and your name.”

“Of course.”

“Your supervillain names all suck, by the way,” Tommy informed him. “Having your name in the supervillain name doesn’t make sense. It’s supposed to be a secret identity. What is SBI all of your middle initials?”

“God, I wish.”

“What is it then?”

Techno looked at him. “No.”

“Aw, but what does it matter?”

“No.”

Tommy pushed his lower lip out. Techno stared at him, unimpressed. “…You look weird without the mask,” Tommy said.

“Mmm,” Techno replied, unconcerned. He walked back over to the bed.

“Seriously, no one’d be scared of you if they knew you looked like that under the mask.”

“Oh, trust me,” Techno said. “They would be.” Without warning, he flopped himself face first onto the free side of the double bed, ignoring how his glasses poked his face.

“Hey!” the kid said, sounding surprised. “This is my bed.”

“Ghostbur woke me up in the middle of a sleep cycle at, like, 2am,” he said into the pillow. “Shush.”

“Aren’t you, like, afraid I’ll murder you in your sleep and escape?”

“I’m not falling asleep,” Techno said, his eyes closed, “and no, not particularly.”

“I’m dangerous!”

“Mmm.”

“Bitch.” Techno felt him shuffle around a bit on the bed. He hissed when the movement jostled his injury and Techno opened his eyes and turned his head to look at him. “Your hair’s weird.” Techno was starting to think ‘blank is weird’ was just the way Tommy demanded attention.

“Okay.”

There was a pause. “It looks cool though when it’s all braided and you’re wearing the skull mask.”

“Thanks.”

“Why do you wear it so long though?” Tommy asked. Techno wasn’t getting out of conversation, was he? “I mean, it’s awesome and all, but your main thing is close combat.”

“Used to wear it short,” Techno admitted. “People used to shave it. Then, I’d cut it short with a knife so it wouldn’t get tangled. Phil taught me how to care for it a bit after I met him. I started to like it long when I knew how to take care of it, so now I just let it grow.”

“Well, it’s very pog man.”

Techno rolled his eyes. “Thanks,” he said again.

“Is it naturally pink?” he asked.

Techno snorted at the question. “No,” he said.

“Well, I don’t know,” Tommy said, affronted by his amusement. “Sometimes people with powers end up with weird shit like wings!” Which… was fair enough.

“It’s white naturally,” he said. “Not sure if it was when I was born or if it happened later. I’m due for a dye, see?” He tapped at his roots which he’d noticed the morning before were starting to peak through white.

Tommy leaned over to look, careful to keep his hand on his own pillow.

Techno sighed. “You can touch it.”

“Huh?” Tommy asked.

“My hair,” Techno said. “You can touch it.”

“Really?” he asked.

“It’s basically Wilbur and Phil’s favorite pastime, so it’s not like I’m not used to it.”

With the permission, he reached out a cautious hand to touch a few of the strands on the pillow, his head cocked in curiosity. “Wow,” he said, “how the hell do you get it like this?”

“Lots of time and lots of product.”

He grew a bit bolder, though he did not take near the amount of liberties Wilbur often did. He just basically pet it against the pillow so Techno could just barely feel it. His distraction gave Techno a chance to really look at him. He did look quite young especially now. Ghostbur had said he was 16 even though that made no sense. What was the Hero Guild doing if that was the case?

Sixteen, Techno contemplated. That was young, wasn’t it? Did Techno even know what it was like to be 16? He’d been 16 once, twice, and never.

Sixteen was a home made out of an old, abandoned train car and Phil always bringing back something extra when he went out for supplies, sometimes these things were functional, but often they were not, and he really did not understand. It was a white stuffed bear Techno never understood the significance of until an 8-year-old handed a much newer version of it to him years later saying he could have it. It was being on the verge of trusting after almost a year and a half, but not quite there yet.

Sixteen was also Will’s eighteenth birthday and Techno pinning him to the ground of the living room in the house upstairs, because he wouldn’t stop mocking Techno for still being a child when he was an adult even though Techno had been an adult first. It was Phil ignoring them to cut ice cream cake in the kitchen trusting Techno wouldn’t actually cut off his son’s oxygen with the pillow he’d placed over his head.

Sixteen was lost like water slipping through a drain never to be recovered. It was lost in blood and death: his own, his own, his own, until he managed to make it someone else’s. How could he possibly know when he’d existed for 16 years when for every stumbling two steps forward, he took one back? Did it pass in the blood-soaked arena or on the cold street or in a prison cell? There was no way to ever know.

What was sixteen for this boy? Techno had to wonder. He worried silently that with the gash on his stomach and the pallor to his cheeks, it might linger somewhere closer to the first or third than Techno was comfortable with.

“Why are you looking at me all funny?” Tommy asked.

“How am I looking at you?”

“Funny,” Tommy answered.

Techno rolled his eyes. “Helpful.” Tommy kicked him and Techno narrowed his eyes. “Don’t you want to sleep?” he asked.

“I apparently have had too much caffeine, so sleep is not an option right now.”

“Fantastic,” Techno said, shoving his face back into the pillow.

Tommy gave him about two seconds of silence. “Do you have a superpower?” he asked.

Techno sighed. “Yes.”

“I’ve never seen you use one,” Tommy said, “and we’ve fought a lot of times.”

Techno took his head off the pillow. “It’s not one I use often anymore.”

“Why not?” Tommy asked with a frown.

Techno turned to face him. “If you’d ever given me cause to use it, you wouldn’t be alive.”

He must have accidently done something with his voice because Tommy’s already pretty pale face went a bit paler.

Techno tilted his head. “It wasn’t a threat,” he said. “Just a fact.”

“I could kill you right now if I decided I wanted you dead isn’t a threat?” Tommy asked.

“No because I don’t have a reason to want you dead.”

“You don’t?” Tommy asked, seeming genuinely surprised.

Techno squinted at him. “Kid, what exactly do you think is going on here?”

The kid started biting his damned lip again, his hand clenching his pillow, but he didn’t say anything.

“You are aware we aren’t planning to kill you, aren’t you?” He just stared at Techno. “Shit kid, we’re not going to just murder some unarmed child in our basement. You’ll be ransomed back to the Guild eventually.” Well… at least, that had been the plan, he thought, looking at the blue marks adorning his face.

“But I’m your enemy,” he said with a frown.

“Being a general nuisance and kicking Wilbur in the face a couple of times isn’t quite enough for us to want your head on a spike.”

Tommy was looking at him all confused. Shit. How had Phil explained the fact that most people actually didn’t want to murder people indiscriminately? Technoblade was not equipped for this. Uh…

“Is that…” Tommy interrupted his thoughts.

“What?” Techno prompted when it was clear he wasn’t going to continue his sentence.

“Why didn’t you kill me that one time?” he asked quietly.

“When?” Techno asked.

“You know,” he said. “That one time I found you in the alley. We fought and you had me at sword point. I thought you were going to slit my throat then, but you just walked away. We were alone and I’d attacked you. I always wondered why you didn’t.”

“I thought that’d be obvious,” Technoblade said, but Tommy just frowned. “Did you forget the rest of that fight?” he asked. “You thought you’d snuck up on me and I didn’t notice until it was too late. You’d grabbed my sword and held me at sword point on the ground. You’d thought you’d won.”

“Yeah, but I hadn’t,” he grumbled.

“You hadn’t,” Techno agreed. “In fact, you didn’t even really find me. I lured you there on purpose.”

“Why?”

“It was a test. We’d fought a few times and I wanted to see if you were a threat.” He shrugged. “You weren’t.”

Tommy looked unhappy with that statement.

“It’s not an insult,” Techno said.

“It sure fucking sounds like one,” Tommy replied.

“It’s not,” Techno said. “It’s a compliment really. The first person I ever registered as not a threat was Phil and he’d actually just beaten me in combat. It has nothing to do with skill, though yes, obviously I could beat you in hand to hand considering I wrestled the sword away from you after.”

“I don’t get it.”

Techno hummed. “You asked me why I didn’t slit your throat. Well, why didn’t you slit mine?”

“Well… because I’m a hero,” Tommy said, “and I’d already won or thought I did, so I should just call it in to the Guild. That’s what I’m supposed to do.”

Techno snorted. “Funny joke kid. Most heroes would love to put a sword though my chest,” not that it would end, had ended, well for them, “especially with no one watching.”

“So, you didn’t kill me then because I didn’t try to kill you?”

“I give people back what they give to me,” Techno said. “It’s why Phil has my loyalty, why Wilbur has my protection, why many people are dead and buried, and it’s why you don’t need to fear dying at my hand.”

“Oh,” Tommy said. “That’s nice of you.” Like he’d just offered to give him a ride home on a rainy day. Like it was a favor he didn’t expect.

This kid was fucked up.

They were silent for a while and then Techno sat up with a sigh. He fished his phone out of the hoodie pocket. “Well, neither of us are sleeping. What types of movies do kids watch these days?”

Tommy blinked at him. “I don’t watch movies.”

“Right.” He fiddled with his phone for a bit and then handed it to Tommy. “I locked you out of everything but Netflix, so don’t even try it,” he said.

Tommy spent about 30 minutes just scrolling through Netflix, reading the titles, before he selected a horror movie seemingly at random.

He proceeded to refuse to back out for the entire 2 hours of the movie’s runtime despite the fact that he was clearly not built for horror movies. Hmm… maybe the R rating did mean something; he was only 16 after all. He ended up curling into a ball the best he could with a cow stuffed animal clutched to his chest and jumped at everything that happened on screen. Ah, so that’s what the stuffed animals in Wilbur’s room were about.

Techno tried not to laugh at the jumpy boy. He really did.

“Dickhead,” Tommy spat when the movie ended. “Stop laughing at me.”

“We could have backed out at any time.”

“No! I’m a man! A big man.”

“Sure, Tommy. Next time you’re watching a G rated movie. Animated animals only.”

“I do not like you.”

“Is that why you’re trying to cuddle me for comfort?”

“I am not. Shut up.” He pressed his forehead into Techno’s shoulder. “When is Ghostbur getting back? I like him better.”

“We could wake up Will.”

“No. Ew.”

Techno chuckled and Tommy sat up, still holding the cow stuffed animal.

“Hey, Technoblade,” he said, looking over at Wilbur’s sleeping form in the corner. “Do you have any shaving cream?”

Techno blinked at him. “What? Why?”

Tommy shrugged, his eyes cutting to Techno and then back to Wilbur and then back to Techno.

Oh, Techno thought. “You know what?” I have a better idea.”

“Technoblade, I’m going to be rather cross with you,” Ghostbur warned from the bed. He’d returned while Technoblade was sneaking up to the kitchen. He didn’t know what they’d discussed while he’d been gone, but it was likely about Tommy’s friend.

Despite his words of warning, Ghostbur didn’t move to stop Techno, likely because Tommy was full on giggling over his small bowl of chocolate ice cream topped with strawberries and whipped cream.

Technoblade shrugged. “Meh. Worth it.”

Author Note:

Ghostbur: Ah, but you see Technoblade. He is baby.

Techno: *rolls eyes*

**1 hour later**

Techno: Oh no. He is baby.

(This conversation was illustrated and you can find it here!)

#backlog

5 notes · View notes

crimeboys · 8 months

Note

HI ALIVEBURS. WE WERE MUTUALS BUT IVE BEEN GONE FOR MONTHS. GLAD TO SEE YOURE STILL AROUND!!!! :-D

HI HELLO AMPHI GLAD TO SEE YOU 🫶🫶

#asks #fungicidalspray

3 notes · View notes

halftheway · 2 years

Text

iiit’s bonus track time<3 today’s offering is about ghostbur, quackity, and the unique pain of an almost love. (ao3)

(& just a friendly reminder, a lot of these Could be read as standalones but they’re all part of my ‘happy ending au’, open arms!)

Home feels empty, lately. Quackity spends most of his time doing whatever he can to avoid being there. Hanging out with Karl, Sapnap, and George has been his go-to lately, but George is asleep, again, and the other two had been giving each other such disgustingly sappy looks Quackity had fled as soon as he found a chance.

It’s not that he has any problems with it, it’s just that… Okay, maybe he has a little bit of a problem. It’s his own problem of feeling really uncomfortable around people in love, though, and he’s not gonna make it theirs.

For the past few hours he’s been wandering the main area of the server. He’d figured eventually he’d come across something that’d hold his interest, but nothing has. So, tired mentally and physically, he finds himself flopping onto the bench outside Tommy’s place. It overlooks a little valley, and the view honestly isn’t half bad. The old Quackity might’ve settled in to take a nap there, as the sun set, but current Quackity just slouches and stares at the trees swaying in the breeze.

The sound of the jukebox nearly has him jumping out of his skin. When he turns to see what’s happening, Ghostbur’s bright smile meets him as the soft sound of Cat starts tinkling into the air.

“Hello, Quackity!” he chirps, waving with both hands.

“You scared the crap out of me, Ghostbur,” Quackity snaps, but Ghostbur doesn’t stop his waving.

Or his smiling.

Seeing a face so much like Wilbur’s smiling in such a carefree way is kind of unsettling. That’s one of the biggest differences between them, Quackity thinks. Ghostbur’s happiness comes through so much easier. Quackity can’t even remember the sound of Wilbur’s laugh.

While he was lost in thought, Ghostbur had joined him on the bench, curled up opposite him with his knees drawn up to his chest.

“What are you thinking about?”

“Honestly?” His two options are opening up to Ghostbur about his weird aversion to his own house, to the place he’s supposed to love, or to go the easy route and share his more immediate thoughts.

“Tell me!”

He chooses easy. “I was thinking about Wilbur.”

“Oh.” His cheerful expression slips a little. “What about him?”

“Uh, just… Just the way he looked, when he was happy. His laugh.”

Suddenly Ghostbur grins and says, "Oh, you had a crush on Alivebur, didn’t you, Quackity?"

Quackity chokes on air. "What the hell, Ghostbur?"

Ghostbur just giggles and claps. "You did, you did! Oh, I can tell."

If even the amnesiac can tell, just from a few words, who else knew? Quackity groans and drops his head into his hands.

Something cold touches him, and it takes him a second to recognize the feeling. Ghostbur’s hands are small as they encircle Quackity’s wrists, and that’s another thing Quackity doesn’t know how to unpack. Wilbur Soot was always larger than life, in every sense, but he’s dead and his living ghost is kneeling on this bench beside Quackity, touching him with small hands.

He lifts his head a little to meet Ghostbur's dark, dark eyes.

"Can I tell you a secret, Quackity?"

Quackity blinks and says, "Sure, Ghostbur."

"Wilbur liked you too."

He knew that. On some level underneath the political tension and arguments and hookups… he knew. But having a small gut feeling and having the ghost of the man he might’ve even loved tell him are two different things, and he just stares into Ghostbur’s eyes. Those haven’t changed.

"He thought you were very cute, you know,” continues Ghostbur. “Didn’t like seeing you with Schlatt, he thought you could do better."

"And I bet he thought he was what I could do, huh?”

Ghostbur hesitates. "Well, yes and no. I think… I think he wanted to be the better you could do, but he wasn’t."

That was the problem, wasn’t it? There was potential for something great, but they both threw it away for stupid reasons, and then Wilbur made sure there was nothing to go back to in the aftermath.

"And what about you, Ghostbur?” Quackity asks. “What do you think of me?"

Ghostbur appraises him. "I agree with Alivebur," he says solemnly. "You are very cute."

Quackity’s not sure he’s breathing. How could he? Ghostbur is close enough to him now that they’d be sharing air if he did, but why break the illusion?

"Ghostbur, do you like me?"

His face twists. "Wilbur did." He plays with Quackity's hands in the quiet, staining them blue.

Quackity gently untangles their hands and leans in, impossibly closer. "I’m not asking what Wilbur thought," he says, voice low. "I’m asking what you, right here, right now, think about me."

“I-I don't, I don't—” Blue starts to seep onto his cheeks, like a reverse blush. It's fitting, though.

Entranced, Quackity reaches, and the color on Ghostbur’s face bleeds too, joining the rest on his fingers.

His eyes squeeze shut. “Quackity, I, I'm not him. I know Wilbur liked you but I'm not him, and I don't know if I do, and I'm sorry I'm not him—”

“Hey, hey. It's okay.” There’s always a chance he’s read this wrong, and the last thing he wants to do is make Ghostbur uncomfortable. He brushes his thumb across his skin one last time, then moves to drop his hand.

Ghostbur catches it, though, before he can.

Trembling fingers wrap around Quackity’s hand and press it back into the ghost's cheek.

"Can I… I'd like to kiss you, Quackity," Ghostbur confesses. "If that'd be alright."

Quackity's breath catches in his throat. "Yeah, that's— yes, please."

Wilbur never touched him like this.

Quackity didn't mind it all that much at the time, though. Anything would've been an improvement over Schlatt, and Wilbur was a big one, at that. He, at least, asked. Stopped, if Quackity said the word.

Ultimately, everything between them was kind of a means to an end. Most nights, they seemed to be on the same page about what they wanted: a warm body to provide a distraction.

This… This is something else.

There's no goal Ghostbur is trying to achieve here. He's kissing Quackity just to kiss him, simply and so sweetly it aches.

And Quackity ruins it. When Ghostbur comes up for air he doesn't need, Quackity acts on muscle memory and sinks his teeth into his lip. There's no blood in his mouth, this time, and he almost misses the taste.

Ghostbur yelps and scrambles away. "That hurt!"

Shit. "I'm sorry, Ghostbur, I'm sorry, I wasn't thinking—"

"You were," he accuses. Oh, goddammit, he's shaking. Quackity mentally kicks himself. "You were thinking."

About him goes unsaid, but the message is clear.

“I'm sorry,” Ghostbur whispers. He wrings his hands.

You ruin things, hisses a voice in the back of Quackity's head. "Don't be, don't be. Don't be sorry." I should be sorry.

"No, but I am. I am, because you miss Wilbur and I know that's how you two used to kiss but it's not right. It shouldn't hurt."

It shouldn't hurt. Love… shouldn't hurt.

Leave it to the ghost of Wilbur Soot to rock Quackity to his fucking core with a single sentence.

It's a little bit of a revelation, honestly. With Schlatt, he'd learned to roll with the punches— literally— and kinda assumed it would always be like that. That there would always be part of him left wanting. And now there's a not-quite-dead man in front of him insisting Quackity's worldview is wrong.

It almost reminds him of Wilbur. He'd always gotten a kick out of challenging Quackity, and though he'd never admit it, Quackity liked that about him.

"I do miss him." Denying it would be doing a disservice to both of them. Ghostbur lets out a small, wounded sound anyway. "But you're not him, are you?"

"I'm not," he agrees, dubious.

"So… Can I try again? I'll be more gentle, I promise."

Ghostbur hesitates, but scoots closer.

"You'd better."

Quackity keeps his word and reaches for Ghostbur with careful, stained hands. Azure meets gray as he cups Ghostbur's face again. He wants to do this right. He’s going to do this right.

He's just not sure what right is.

Love doesn't hurt, he repeats to himself, and tries something.

Slow is best to start with, he decides. Gives Ghostbur plenty of time to pull away if he changes his mind. But he stays put as Quackity leans in to press a kiss to his cheekbone. Then the tip of his nose, the corner of his eye, his jaw. Everywhere he can reach.

Pacing himself is harder than he expected, but he's determined.

Quackity pushes one hand into Ghostbur's hair to cup the back of his head as their lips meet again.

That, at least, is familiar. The whole… taking it slow thing is kind of uncharted territory for him. This, he knows how to do.

He realizes, belatedly, that despite the sun having set by now, they’re still very much in public and that anyone could happen across them like this.

They’d certainly look more compromised than they are, to an observer. After all, it’s dark, and Ghostbur has very much settled in his lap.

So, with as much gentleness as he can manage, he draws back.

Their eyes meet for a few moments, before Ghostbur tips forward and wraps his arms around Quackity. His head rests on Quackity's shoulder as his cold fingers flex against his arm a few times before curling around the fabric of his shirt. He murmurs Quackity's name a few times, almost to himself. It’s cute.

“Was that better?”

“Was it like kissing him?” Ghostbur says, cryptic. “Did it feel the same?”

No. Wilbur was always teeth and tongue and wandering hands, and that was all very chaste. But he doesn’t want Ghostbur to be caught up on what any similarities or differences might mean. He just says, “You know what, Ghostbur? You don't have to be Wilbur. You can just be you, if you want.”

“Can I?”

“Why not?”

“I-I have Alivebur's memories, I can't just be me, I'm him too. I don't want to not have them, there are so many lovely moments with Phil, and with Fundy, and Tommy, and Tubbo, and—” His hand tightens where it's twisted in Quackity's shirt. “And you. Less of you, though.”

If he only kept the happy things…

“What do you remember about me?”

“Your laugh,” answers Ghostbur immediately. “He really loved your laugh, and your smile. He liked… he liked kissing you, too. That made him happy. I think, I think it makes me happy too."

Quackity feels a little like he's been stabbed. Maybe Wilbur hadn’t thrown it all away.

“I wish there was more,” Ghostbur says softly. “I wish I could remember every single thing Alivebur liked about you. Maybe then I'd know, you know?”

Most of Wilbur's memories with him aren't good, Quackity would wager. It's no surprise Ghostbur has so little to work with. He thinks, though, that he really wants to make more.

“You could always get to know me again,” Quackity suggests, selfish. “We could, I dunno. Start over. Clean slate, is that what they call it?”

They don't get the chance. Somehow, Quackity falls in with Karl and Sapnap after that night. He fits with them so seamlessly, like the two of them were just waiting for him to see what he could’ve had, and he almost forgets.

Ghostbur disappears not long after, and then he's gone.

#dsmp #las nevadas polycule #tntduo #tntduo fic #ghostbur #quackity #c!quackity #dsmp fic

4 notes · View notes