#c!wibur | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

mysticalsoot · 6 months

Text

someone to live with

part 2 to someone to (not) die with

➸ note; i know i said id post this at 8- but I was watching heartland with my mom and like.. sobbed like a baby anyways, hope you enjoy!!

➸ pairing; revivebur x gn!reader // c!wilbur x gn!reader

➸ summary; after wilbur's death and a too long to think, you ask your sister to help you. she does but maybe her methods work a bit too well.

➸ warning; slight hurt/big comfort, suicide mentions, kissing, easily forgiving reader, ghostbur goes to a happy limbo, probably swearing

➸ age-rating; 15+

➸ wordcount; 3.1k

main masterlist // part 1

wilbur's funeral was quicker than most, and not many people showed up. if anything, it was mostly you and his father and brothers. Niki came by, your sister Grace did too. but in all honesty, not many people bothered to pay their respects.

you also kept it quiet, taking a few days before the funeral to really let everything sink in, to let the fact he left the bouquet you gave him on the spot he wanted to be buried. it was just by the hill he used to sit on, the one he took you to and told you all about his dreams for the future. for lmanburg and for the future you both hoped to share.

you wouldn't be sharing that future now.

despite that; the time since wilbur's death went by slowly, and was utterly agonizing. your home felt colder, although it could've been winter slowly creeping up, you chalked it up to the lack of your partner. or maybe it was his ghost that wandered your halls that emanated that cold. or maybe he just contributed to it. whatever it was, you found yourself spending more time out in the snow sitting by his grave than sitting by the fire in your living room.

you'd talk to him, or rather the corpse of his that was buried a few feet down in a hand built coffin that his older brother forged through anger. Techno wasn't known for tears.

but you were. you wouldn't be surprised if your tears eventually froze over whenever you spoke to his grave, as the days were getting colder and the chill of the wind started to burn your cheeks.

ghostbur was nice, you thought. a nice distraction. he was kind and sweet and he was all the good of Wilbur and more. he wasn't Wilbur, he made that clear, but you knew that the moment you met him. he caught you on a less than good day, wandering around your house, mindlessly walking the halls and dissociating to the point you weren't sure what was going on or where you were.

but he came knocking on your doorstep, friend behind him. you took him in, since he had nowhere else to go. you helped him stable up friend, put him in the pen and set him up in the fields while you brought ghost in and helped him warm up. you kept him away from the snow and cold, helping him become afloat again. he stayed back with you, keeping an eye on you and giving you blue any time he could. he loved spending time with you, caring for you.

he was a good friend, and he hoped that's what he always would be.

no matter how many times you'd tell him how wonderful of a friend he was, he wouldn't believe it. even when you brought up the time he saved you a week after he walked into your life. you were so close to ending it all, jumping off the edge and joining your wilbur. but he stopped you, he managed to talk you down and he held you and promised to protect you, and that he did. he protected you, he cared for you and even if your relationship was platonic at best, he was a wonderful partner.

meanwhile, wilbur was pent up in limbo. pacing the platform, listening to the sounds of the train passing by not once stopping for him. he was going crazy, mind you he already was, but this was a whole new level.

there wasn't much to do up there, time passed so much more slowly. there weren't any books to busy him with, all he could do was sit and listen to the screeching and taunting of the train. the sounds drove him mad, a constant reminder of what he can never reach, what he can't get back. what he destroyed with his selfish ways.

he nearly ripped his hair out, with the way regret and stress was eating at his dead form. he was tired, lost and he couldn't get it out of his mind what mistakes he'd made. the long list of things he'd ruined with his own presence.

sometimes he'd wonder if it's better that he's dead. maybe he shouldn't bother with troubling thoughts of how to get back. you must be thriving, he hopes you're thriving.

you weren't. it's crawling up to the two month anniversary, and to say the least, you were losing it. you were good at pretending, pretending that you were okay and healing but in reality; you weren't. you were staying up at night, clinging to his old trench coat and shutting your eyes in hopes you could pretend he was there and would materialize into his coat at any moment. it felt stupid to do this, but it kept you from being pushed onto the ledge.

"Grace?" you whisper, holding your cup of tea close to your chest, sitting behind her counter at her flower shop. your sister was always a safe place for you, especially when you couldn't sift through your thoughts on your own. she helped.

"mm?" she hums, turning to face you with a smile before returning to the flowers she was working on. a small winter themed display for the Christmas festival she was preparing for. as for every other shop owner in L'manburg.

"have you.. have you learnt anything about revival?" you managed to mumble out, eyes casted down on the floor as you set aside your tea.

"I've done some research," you didn't catch the way she froze for a moment, as if she was buffering. and you especially didn't know that her research pertained to reviving the same person you wished to.

"how much?"

"enough." she sighs out, tying a ribbon around the bunch of stems, placing the bouquet on display before cleaning up her workstation.

"how hard is it? to revive someone, I mean." you bit your lip, nearly drawing blood before you quit, looking away again but this time outside the front windows.

"is this about wilbur?"

she didn't need to ask, she already knew. it's always about wilbur. you fidget with your fingers, wringing your hands together as you shrug, "maybe."

"if.. and I mean, if. if you revive him, he may not be the same," Grace frowns, walking over to you and bringing you into a hug. for a younger sister, she acted like an older, doting sister occasionally.

"at least I'll have him back, y'know?" you shrug again, raising your shoulders before dropping them in defeat, leaning deeper into her hug.

"I'll help," she draws in a breath, calculating her next words as she steps back to look at you, "if you promise to not blame anyone but him if he comes back an ass, okay?" she cracks a smile, chuckling softly at her own words as your own lips curl up and you roll your eyes.

"fine-" you pause, mind reeling as you remember ghostbur. how could you hurt him?

"what will happen to ghostbur?"

Grace shrugs, pulling away and turning to grab some more flowers to put together, "he'll be sent to limbo."

"so he'll die?" regret bubbles up in your throat like bile, and your eyes widen at the thought.

"no, no," she starts before stopping, biting her bottom lip, "he'll go to his own limbo."

"is that good?"

her shoulders lift, mouth curled in a frown and uncertainty paints on her face, "in theory, yes. I'm sure he'll be fine. it's- he'll be okay."

"if.. if getting back wil hurts ghost- i- I can't do that to him, Grace," your lips curl downwards and you step into the main area of the shop, grabbing some baby's breath and setting it on the counter by your sister.

"it won't hurt him. i promise," she rests her hand on yours, shooting you a soft and sympathetic gaze.

you take in a breath and nod, "okay, when can we start?"

you were sure that the rivival process was long and tedious, and maybe it was but-- grace liked to work alone. she'd update you when you showed up at her shop every morning, reassuring you that everything was fine.

it was a few days before ghostbur disappeared, which grace warned you about. you just hoped he was okay. despite the lack of the beloved ghost, you still hadn't found wilbur, and Grace was becoming more suspicious.

she avoided your questions, choosing short answers and it seemed like she was pulling herself at both ends, spreading herself thin. you were worried but Tom didn't know anything, and Grace wasn't letting you in on it anytime soon.

"why can't I see them, grace?" wilbur pried, sitting on the bench in the back of Grace's shop.

"I don't trust you yet. you haven't proved to me that you won't hurt them," she toyed with the ribbon she held, melting the ends to keep it from freying.

"you've threatened me enough, I think that's plenty of reason-"

"no, wilbur, you killed yourself and left them off on their own. threatening isn't enough for you to get it through your head that your fucking existence could hurt them! sometimes that's all you do," she scoffs, placing down the ribbon and picking up the next one, sealing the ends again. she takes a moment, listening to the silence of the room, the silence that's fallen on wilbur. she rolls her eyes, huffing before she continues, "I'm sorry, okay? but I've had to watch my sibling suffer because of your decisions, and they suffered longer than you've been dead," she pauses, shutting her eyes and taking a breath before continuing, "I'm not trying to be hard on you, I promise but- just, please understand, wil."

"I know, I know I've hurt them but I promise, I can make it better. weren't they the one that asked to revive me?" he counters, standing up and making his way to stand beside grace, towering over her and resting his hand on her shoulder.

"yes, they were but- I warned them and I just don't want them hurt."

"I won't hurt them," he starts, resting his hands on both her shoulders, "I promise."

she pulls back, "fine, but remember the second I catch wind that you've hurt them, say goodbye to living. and your reproductive organs."

"I think killing me is good enough," he laughs softly, pulling grace into a hug and mumbling, "thank you, so much,"

"yeah, sure."

"I'll see you later, yeah?" wilbur's lips curl into a smile as he practically bounces towards the door. he hurries out of the flower shop, determination taking over and hope filling his veins.

all the while you're out by his grave, again. maybe you should build something in honor of ghostbur, you think. he's not here anymore, hopefully in a better place so surely you should do something to honor his memory. just like you did with wilbur. like you always did.

you sifted your fingers through the grass, tugging at it gently, trying not to fully rip it but just mess with it. your mind runs miles an hour, wandering through thoughts and feelings that haven't quite healed yet.

moss has begun to grow on his headstone, flowers grace planted around it now blooming up around the stone. it's heavily weathered, the words.

'wilbur soot. beloved son, friend, partner, brother and president. 1996-2020.'

they're painted on and the snow and sleet has worn it down, its barely visible. the words ghost on the stone. but you have it memorized, by reading it over before you had it made, and then reading it over and over again for hours every day since his death. like a mantra, even if it has no purpose other than to hurt you.

you'd been sitting there for who knows how long, your fingers felt like icicles but you barely noticed the pricking cold. you weren't sure what you were hoping for, praying for by sitting alone but it was something.

the sound of fabric waving in the wind, and footsteps crunching on the grass, and then the scent hits you; cigarettes and cologne. mixed together and hitting your nose sharply. you bite your lip, letting your breath catch in your throat, not bothering to look behind you.

"wilbur?" you mumble, and then you hear his smile form, a little puff of air let out with it.

"hello, my love," he stands beside you, waiting for you to invite him to sit with you. you glance up at him, mouth slightly agape.

"you're alive."

"yeah, I am. thank god grace let me go. finally-" he chuckles, and for the first time in a while, you smile. a genuine smile.

"what? she kept you cooped up?" you pat the spot beside you, keeping your eyes up on you.

"yes, she did. and she threatened my livelihood," he follows your guide, sitting beside you and letting his legs stretch out before him. you finally catch a glance at the discoloration on his face, the bruises and patches of skin too pale or too tan.

"oh? so she threatened to neuter you?" you meet his eyes finally, smile soft but clear on your face.

"that's her favorite threat," he chuckles softly, fingers twitching as if he was going to reach for you. he takes a sharp breath, looking forward and out on the horizon over the hill. he takes a moment before pulling something out of his trench coat pocket, but you stop him short.

"you grabbed the coat?" you frown, fingers reaching out to play with the fabric, rubbing it between your fingertips. you glance up at him and he finally reaches forward, hand on your cheek and thumb rubbing your skin.

"it wasn't the only thing I grabbed," he sucks in a breath, pulling his hand away and taking out two rings, the rings he left for you, "i found them, on the mantle and i- I wanted to do what I didn't before."

"so you've been in our house?"

"is that what you take from this?" he chuckles, leaning forward and kissing your forehead. to his surprise, you don't flinch away but rather lean into it and sigh.

"maybe, but- are you.."

"proposing? if you're okay with it," he starts, pulling the rings off the string and putting his hand out for yours. you nod and give him your hand. he slips the ring on and begins again, "will you marry me?"

"mmm.. I don't know- will I?" you crack a smile before chuckling softly, "yes, yes I will. idiot."

he pulls you into a hug, your right leg tossed over his lap as you both pull one another closer. and then you pull back and reach your hand out, palm up.

"what?"

"the ring, it's only fair."

"oh?" wilbur smiles, handing you the wedding band he intended on wearing. you slip it on his ring finger before kissing each of his finger tips.

"I missed you,"

"I missed you too," he leans closer, resting his hand on your cheek again and stroking the skin.

"mm, I'm sure you've had plenty of time to miss me," the corner of your mouth twitches upwards into a smirk. you stand up, reaching your hand down for him to take as you help him up to stand. he rests his hands on your hips, squeezing gently before leaving a kiss on your cheek.

"too much time," he mumbles, holding you close and hugging you, "I'm sorry, for all I've done. I know that no words can account for all that I've put you through but I- I hope you can find a way to put up with me."

"don't worry, I forgave you a while ago. you were stupid but, dream is dead and it's because of what you pulled. we have you to thank for that."

"I'm still sorry," he winces, and you grab his hand, leading him back to the cabin as you shrug.

"I know, and you're going to have to do a lot more than say sorry for other people. but for me, you're lucky I missed you so much. otherwise, I probably wouldn't have asked to have you revived."

"I know but-" you shoot him a warning look, silently telling him to shut his trap before he starts whining again, "okay, okay, I get it."

"good, now- let's go enjoy ourselves yeah? get you a shower and go to bed. because, love you, darling but you reek." you chuckle, tugging him by his hand up the stairs of your porch, hurrying in and shutting the door behind you.

he pulls you to him by your hips, swaying you gently before he leans down to pull you into a kiss, lips licking together in a way they haven't in over six months, you think. much longer than he's been dead.

you reach your arms up, wrapping them around his neck as you both tug one another together, your bodies now pressed up. the warmth he spreads wraps around you and you've never felt more at home.

the kiss doesn't end until you both have to gasp for air, and you drop your head to press against his chest. he rubs your back with his hands, gentle circles spun over your shirt.

"do I really reek?" he croons, looking up at the ceiling as your fingers grasp at his shirt.

"yes you do,"

he attempts to get out of it, poking out a gentle pout and you pull back. folding your arms over your chest as you shake your head, smirking at the way he tries to beg like a puppy.

"wilbur- you do realize I was going to make brownies while you showered, right?" you knew the moment you mentioned baked goods, he'd do whatever you asked. he'd do whatever you asked anyway, but a little bribe never hurt anyone.

"wait really?" his eyes light up and his pout falls off and is replaced with an excited grin. you nod and he lunges down to press thankful kisses all over your face, giggling happily as he holds you by your sides, fingers curling over your waist.

"yes- god, you only love me for my baking?"

"no, but it is a plus," he pulls back, placing a quick peck to your lips before sprinting up the stairs for him to shower. you shake your head, smile clear as day on your lips as you venture into the kitchen to begin baking.

despite everything, the pain and turmoil and living without him, you're glad you asked to have him revived, even if it meant some sacrifice. yet the more you think of it, you're gonna have to thank grace for holding your fiance hostage tomorrow.

taglist; @lcvejoy @lillylvjy @ella-fella-bo-bella @lotusanonymouse @willgoldszn @whos-nicooo @zebonos

honorable tags (asked for part 2); @babybabygrogu @tacomumun3r

118 notes · View notes

stuff-from-the-void-matron · 1 year

Text

Laurel Wreaths & Animal Teeth (19)

(c!technoblade x fem!reader) (?who knows at this point..)

(*SCREAMING UNTIL MY VOICE IS GONE* hahahaha i'm finally done with this devil forsaken chapter! I literally cannot articulate HOW hard this chapter was, for who knows what reason! I don't know why but this chapter was a struggle. like some trial a fucking greek god would give me to make me stronger or whatever. but.. I did it finally. PLEASE reblog and comment so I can feel like the pain I went through was worth it y'all 😭🥺👉👈)

—————

Bored.

That’s been his general state of things for about.. I don’t know, maybe 5 months? At least since he’d finished taking part in that last pvp tournament on the championship battle server. But the battle season has finished and he’s not found anything new to hold his attention.

And Phil was busy working on a new build that's taken up his attention. And Techno would help but he knows Phil wants to do it himself, the man is so picky about his builds so Techno just leaves him be. Usually by now someone would have got in contact to hire him for his war faring services. Some kingdom or warring faction, looking for someone well versed in battle and strategy to help them turn the tides. But-

A yellow feather fluttering into his field of vision followed by the sound of flapping wings made the red eyed hybrid look up to see an incoming parrot holding a rolled up letter tied to its leg.

“Well, speak of the devil or whatever,” Techno said in his usual monotone drawl as the parrot landed on his shoulder.

It held its leg out and he took the offered scroll before reaching into his inventory to grab some seeds to feed it. Then once it was happily munching away he unrolled the letter, wondering which server it could be from. Probably some new upstart one inhabited by a bunch of idiots with conflicting opinions who don’t realize they can just go separate directions and end it. That was usually how it went. People were all the same. They find out their opinions don’t match up, they bicker over it, they fight, someone invariably gets killed, they wage war, and then rinse and repeat.

But as he read the letter he realized it wasn’t from just anybody. It was from Wilbur, Philza’s kid. Jeez, he hasn’t seen him in what feels like one hundred years.

Huh, when was the last time he’d seen the bespectacled boy? He actually can’t recall. He thinks back, far back, scouring his memory for instances with Wilbur. He remembers his round glasses, his warm yellow sweater, and his love for anything music. Techno recalls how Wilbur had always detested battle, fighting, anything like that. Hell, he hadn’t even liked wearing armor, even when it was for his own good. Which Techno thought was both foolish and endearing. He himself was always suited to battle, falling into it like how a bird takes to the skies. But he’d always seen Wilbur as so far removed from being suitable for violence.

All the younger man had ever said he wanted to do was sing, play music, and write. He truly had the heart of a poet, that was for sure. Getting him to learn some basic defense so he could travel to the nearby villages on his own without being a sitting duck had been similar to pulling teeth for Philza, his son always treating the lessons like a chore. But he and Phil had managed to teach him enough self defense so he could be safe out on his own, at least from the mobs. And once that was handled then Philza didn’t feel so worried leaving his boy home alone, meaning he and Techno could go traveling again.

And Wilbur hadn’t been bothered by this either, seeming to enjoy having some time to himself when his father and Techno were out. They always came home to Wilbur playing his guitar either outside in the yard, enjoying the sun, or inside by the fire to stay cozy. He’d been perfectly content.

And then one day they came home and Wilbur hadn’t been alone like he’d always been before. He’d had some kid with him, a little boy who actually bore a strong resemblance to Philza, what with his blond hair and blue eyes. That had been more than a shock, he’ll admit. Walking in and seeing Wilbur with some random kid they’d never seen before, just sitting on the floor in front of the couch like it was no big deal.

Yeah, that had been Tommy, and according to Wilbur he’d found him eating out of the trash in the village so he’d brought him home. Of course. When Philza asked where Tommy’s parents were, the kid had wrinkled his nose and said they were probably at home. That had turned into them grilling the kid, trying to figure out where their house was so Wilbur could return him.

But Tommy had kicked up a huge fuss, shouting about how he left on his own and he was never going back. From how he’d described it, his parents hadn’t been the best. Not even close actually, they’d sounded like shit to be honest. I mean if your toddler is willing to up and leave with zero intention of going back to you, like 100% willing to eat out of the trash instead of staying with you then yeah you’re probably a shit tier parent.

Wilbur had begged Philza to let Tommy stay with them. He had nowhere else to go and leaving him out on the street seemed messed up and he was so little, it’s not like he’d take up much space anyways. Yeah, Wilbur admitted the kid kinda ate a lot but no more than he guessed all kids ate… But they had a huge garden and some cows so it wasn’t a huge deal, right?

Techno had been against it, they’d JUST started getting back to traveling again since Wilbur was old enough and capable enough to look after himself now. He’d argued that they didn’t need another little gremlin running around touching their stuff. He’d been eyeing the little blond boy as he stared openly at Techno’s own enchanted sword that was strapped to his belt. He’d tucked it into his inventory to keep it away from the kid and his no doubt grimy little fingers.

But Philza had always been such a sap when it came to Wilbur and his ‘sad boy eyes’. So he’d ended up folding like a house of cards pretty quick, though he’d warned Wilbur that the kid, Tommy, was his responsibility. Philza wasn’t going to start looking after him when he’d not had any hand in taking him in. So Tommy’s well being was now solely in Wilbur’s hands.

Phil had actually been really serious at that part, asking Wilbur if he knew what he was getting into? Because Phil knew how hard it was to care for a child, it was exhausting and sometimes thankless, and you can’t just stop whenever you want because someone defenseless now relies on you.

Wilbur hadn’t been dissuaded though, and pulled the shorter boy close in a half hug, saying he’d be the best big brother ever! Nevermind the child had started gnawing on the arm Wilbur had around him.. Techno couldn’t help but roll his eyes back then and even now as he remembered that promise. But Wilbur seemed happy at least, and neither Phil nor Techno would have to take care of the kid so it hadn’t been so bad. And later when they were alone Phil shared that he was actually glad that Wilbur wouldn’t be alone at home anymore. He’d felt bad leaving his boy all alone, even though he could defend himself.

Techno assured him that Wilbur was a big boy now, practically an adult himself. So he didn’t need Phil worrying about him so much. Phil had laughed and said that was true but he couldn’t stop worrying, it was a parent thing. You never truly stop worrying about your kid. Techno figured that made sense but still told Phil that that was one of the reasons why he wasn’t having kids, too much stress. Techno’s a busy guy, he can’t be losing sleep over some helpless nerds. That had gotten Phil to laugh, which had been Techno’s goal. So, goal accomplished.

Things had been good after that. At least that’s how Techno remembered them to be. Him and Phil would travel and explore to their heart’s content, coming back to the house every now and again to take a break and check up on the brunet and blond. The kid grew like a weed, looking taller and taller with each visit. Him and Wilbur growing closer in height as well as their bond, soon acting like true brothers.

Wilbur had been so happy, and Techno remembers the last time he’d seen him. Him and Phil returned home for another short time between tournaments. They’d walked up to the forest surrounded property they’d called home to see Wil lounging against the porch, guitar in hand with Tommy chasing around a bee, trying to catch it.

They looked so peaceful. And Techno thought that’d never change.

..But reading his letter now made Techno’s stomach sink a bit.

Wilbur was asking for his help. His professional help.. Looks like he’d joined a server not too long ago and started his own nation; L’manberg. Technoblade couldn’t help but close his eyes in annoyance while pinching the bridge of his nose at hearing that. Nothing good ever came from governments, if he’d said that once he’s said it a million times. To the point where if he were a cartoon character from the 80’s then it’d be his damn catchphrase. But people just keep making and joining governments, even Wilbur it seemed..

And from the tone of the letter it looked like Wilbur was in big trouble.

Techno scrubbed his hand down his face, his snout scrunching as he turned the letter over in his mind a few times before sighing and taking out his ender chest. With some mild annoyance he decided to help Wilbur out with his war. Better than sitting around being bored out of his mind at any rate. So he composed a letter back to the brunet, letting him know his services wouldn’t be cheap just because they knew each other, but he’d gladly help him turn the tides. Once that letter was done he handed it over to the parrot, watching it fly off back to Wilbur.

Then on a whim he decided to compose another letter, this time to Phil, letting him know what his son was up to. But knowing the winged man, he’d probably just find the whole thing amusing.

“Well.. I better get packed while I wait for Wilbur’s reply,” Techno said before heading back to his house.

-0-

You carried Azo in your arms as the four of you walked back to L’manburg from the nether portal. Internally you were still seething at Wilbur, you knew what he’d done, to a child of all people. You knew Wilbur, deeper and more intimately than he would ever be comfortable with. But you’d held out hope he’d never sink so low as to harm a child.. You’d really clung to the sliver of hope, despite everything you’d seen him do in the lore streams..

But now you knew with a sad certainty how low he was willing to go for what he wanted. And you wanted nothing more than to sink your teeth into his throat and rend his esophagus from its place in his neck before crushing his skull between your palms. Your jaws ached with the fervent desire to cause the vile bastard as much pain physically as he’d caused you and your children mentally and emotionally.

Though instead of succumbing to those feral desires you instead took a long measured breath in through your nose before letting it out through your mouth, just trying to calm your white hot rage since you needed to focus on the three kids you had with you and not the dead man walking over in fuckin Pogtopia~

You all got to your house and you mentally focused on how too small it was for your family now. Tommy and Tubbo already had their own rooms at your place despite each having their own homes elsewhere. You noticed they usually stayed here at night to sleep, which you were fine with. You preferred it actually, knowing they were safe in bed at night under your roof. But with Azo staying here full time you’d need to make her her own bedroom.

Planning that out calmed your rage thankfully. Turned the magma level heat into a soft manageable simmer. Looking down at the little piglin in your arms made you feel so much better. Things weren’t perfect, no, but you’re just so glad she’s okay. You almost lost her and the thought makes your heart feel like it was being tugged out of your chest. But she’s okay. Things are okay.

You remind yourself of this as you carry your baby through the threshold of your, and now her, home. You breathe and stop at the kitchen, telling the three it’s around lunch time and you’d make them some food. Both boys cheered and sat at the table, while you sat Azo on your hip with one arm while using the other to grab some stuff out of the ice box you kept around to hold food for the two teens.

Azo watched you pull things out with curiosity, not sure what any of them were. Which sent a pang of sadness through you because you know you’ve let her try most of these before but she clearly didn’t remember it. Though you cheered yourself up with the knowledge that she could just try them all over again, rediscover her favorites and least favorites. You still remember the way her little snout had wrinkled up in distaste when she’d first tried a slice of lemon. That had been hilarious and you’d wished you had some way to record it to keep the memory forever, but oh well.

“Mum, can you make us some of that fruit flower tea?” Tubbo asked from his spot at the table.

You smiled and said sure, and reached into the cabinet for the jar of tea you’d made for them not too long ago. You figured a warm meal and warm tea would be better for Azo right now since introducing her to cold stuff in the Overworld, which was already colder than the Nether, would be too much too soon. You noticed with a frown that she already seemed to be chilly. So while the tea was steeping you went over to the couch and grabbed the wool throw off the back and wrapped it snugly around her shoulders. She snorted happily at the sudden barrier from the chill this new world seemed to have.

“We’re gonna have to get you some new clothes, kiddo. Some that keep you warmer than your current ones do,” You said as you went to put some meat skewers onto the smoker and some potatoes in the furnace to bake.

You hummed and swayed your hips back and forth slowly as you watched the food cook. Then the tea was ready and you took Azo to the table and pulled a couple books from your inventory before sitting them on the chair, then you set her on top of them so she could reach the tabletop. She snuggled into the blanket around her while you went to fix the tea.

After giving each kid a cup you finished up the food and sat with them so they could eat. You idly listened as Tubbo and Tommy both talked to Azo, telling her all about L’manberg and their friends, and how they were going to show her around soon maybe.

You just let yourself zone out, taking comfort in your kids all being safe in one place right now.

-0-

Quackity had thought over what he and Reader had discussed the day they started rebuilding the White House. She said he had to make a decision since Schlatt had basically bailed on L’manberg. And she’d also said he’d deserved better than how Schlatt treated him. He’d honestly not wanted to think about that. Because thinking about her words made him throw his entire relationship into question. Did he deserve better than Schlatt? He wasn’t sure how to answer that. If he did then why did he deserve better?

He didn’t want to start dumping on Schlatt, because they’d honestly had so many good times together. Great ones. They’d vibed so well while dating, Quackity can’t count how many times the ram had made him laugh his ass off. Just them two hanging out, sharing some drinks, spending nights out on the town in other SMPs, it was some of the best times of Quackity’s life. Even now, thinking about those times brought a smile (and soft flush) to the duck hybrids face. I mean Schlatt was charismatic, funny, and knew how to make his knees feel like jelly. Plus he had a few other good qualities he didn’t want to focus on too much in public..

But his smile faded away as those sweet memories made way for the not so sweet ones. Things had been great, yeah, but only when Schlatt wasn’t in a bad mood. Now that Quackity actually thinks about it there was always the worry of Schlatt’s good mood evaporating looming over their relationship. If he wasn’t happy then his bad mood sucked the good atmosphere right out of the room. It could be suffocating. The first few times it happened he’d try to give the ram hybrid some space, figuring he’d get over it. But that usually led to arguments, Schlatt asking if Quackity planned to leave any time things weren’t going perfect. That’d made him feel like shit, so he’d started doing all he could to keep the good vibes going.

Quackity isn’t sure when he’d gotten used to it but soon things fell into a rhythm of things being super great and awesome followed by something pissing on Schlatt’s good mood, then him being an asshole, Quackity doing everything he could think of to cheer him up, and then everything repeating in that cycle. It could feel exhausting at times but he just supposed that was just how relationships were supposed to be. But after what Reader said.. he was starting to question if that was right or not. He’d been so conflicted that he’d broken down and asked Karl for advice for a ‘friend of his’ who was having relationship issues.

He’d lied and said it was for a girl he was friends with on another server who was having issues with her girlfriend. Karl had listened to his edited version of events and told Quackity his friend was in a not very good relationship and she should break up with her girlfriend before things got even worse. That had just made his stomach sink further but he played it cool and thanked Karl for hearing him out, and he’d talk to his friend later and tell her what he thought she should do. Karl gave him a sweet smile and wrapped his arm around the dark haired male in a side hug before replying,

“Don’t worry, man. That’s what friends are for. Tell your friend if she needs any help leaving then she can come to us, we’ll help her out of there no problem.”

Quackity couldn’t help the smile hearing this gave him and said he’d let her know.

That’d been hours before and he knew he needed to message Reader and tell her where he stood. It wasn’t good to leave things ambiguous with her, not regarding his allegiance to L’manberg.. She’d messaged him earlier that morning, asking if he was doing alright. He hadn’t replied, wanting to talk to someone else about what he was thinking first. But he knew he couldn’t leave her on read for much longer.

But just as he was getting ready to open his communicator.. it chimed.

He sighed, thinking it was Reader. But when he checked it his throat closed up.

‘Schlatt whispers to you: can we talk?’

Quackity gulped, trying to dislodge the lump in his throat as he read and reread the message at least 7 times. Curses ran through his head as he sat up on his couch, still staring down at the device on his wrist. He tore his eyes away, harshly scrubbing his hand down his face, just trying to calm his racing heart as he tried to focus on one thought at a time. Okay, okay, okay- he needed to relax, just- He jumped when his communicator chimed again. And when he looked back down at it anxiously he paused..

‘Schlatt whispers to you: please babe, come on

‘Schlatt whispers to you: i miss you

The duck hybrid stared down at the screen hard, biting his lip enough to draw a drop of blood as he did. Then with shaky hands he started forming a reply…

—————

@lady-bee-fechin @kacchasu @putridjoy @lunawritesstories @galaxypankitty3030 @paradigmax @zachariethememerie @killmewithafanfic @trinity-1002107 @hufflepuff-demigod @truthdaze @exorcisms-with-elmo @redbloodtea @heythereimhaylz @olyink @jackalopedoodles @nikkineeky @artsimatsu @reverse-iak @corpiet @beepa99 @anxiousnarwhale @bananaaddictmilkshake @realitycanbeajerk @lostandsouciant @thegeekisheere @sparkling-gayyy @woman-soot @xxtwizztedxx @fall3n-vo1d @coolleviauchihadreamerlove @jaciahbabes @lucian-kinnder @deadroses2021 @victory-is-here @where-thesundoesntshine @itsberrydreemurstuff

#LW&AT #Laurel Wreaths & Animal Teeth #LWAT #techno x reader #technoblade x reader #dreamsmp x reader #dsmp x reader #mcyt x reader #potentially other ships with reader #c!quackity #Reader #Azo #c!tubbo #c!tommy #c!techno #c!wibur

249 notes · View notes

sphinxcatberkin · 8 months

Text

Revivedbur fanart

Gawd damn he’s gorgeous, don’t mind me just simping

I tried a new colouring and lineart technique soooo, tell me how it is!

I fucking hate drawing smoke, sometimes it’s fun but I’m too tired to do anymore than that, maybe there will be some TNT duo/ Quackbur soon!

#fanart #dsmpblr #artist of tumblr #digital fanart #doodle #digital artist #wilbur soot #wilbur dream smp #dsmp wilbur #wilbur fanart #revivedbur #revived wilbur #c!wilbur #c!wibur #Sun-dried arts

100 notes · View notes

mellorphic · 1 year

Text

Crime Boys on Theseus’ Ship

@wolfythewitch (Brother animatic) // Richard Siken // knp!!! (Saint Bernard Animatic) // The Soccer Journals by Everybody’s Worried About Owen // my rp with @racklime // Theseus by The Oh Hellos // Late-August (lapse animatic) // Alice Notley // @holly-warbs // Alexis Pauline Gumbs

#dream smp #dsmp #tommyinnit #wilbur soot #c!tommy #c!wibur #theseus ship #theseus paradox #web weaving #web weave #web weaving dsmp #orphic webs #animatics #late august #wolfythewitch #knp #everybodys worried about owen #the oh hellos #poetry

201 notes · View notes

catzgam3rz · 2 years

Text

Welp, if anyone in Utah sees a weird British sounding man in a trenchcoat and yellow jumper wandering around in the sand

You know what to do

#rambles #mcyt #dsmp #dsmp spoilers #dsmp wilbur finale #take the shot utahians…. utahites?#wilbur soot #c!wibur

410 notes · View notes

reichi-orchidland · 1 year

Text

🧨 You are in my shadow, act like it 🧨

#wilbur soot #wilbur soot cosplay #wilbur fanart #revivebur #revived wilbur #dsmp #dream smp #dream smp cosplay #c!wibur #tntduo #dsmpbr #dsmp cosplay #dsmp lore #mcyt #mcyt cosplay #mcytbr #my cosplay #cosplay

68 notes · View notes

septic-salad · 7 months

Text

The guys,,,

250 notes · View notes

eira-nyx · 1 year

Text

AU where Wilbur tells Tommy that his twin, Techno, left them when Tommy was young so he doesn't remember him.

So during the exile bedrock duo era, Tommy feels a brotherly connection and mentions that Wil had a twin but doesn't remember much and was simply told that he left when Tommy was young.

Techno assumed the whole time he has been with Tommy, giving him a place to stay along with items and tools, a home, he assumed Tommy knew that he was his brother. That he was Wil's twin and Tommy's actual older brother.

Every time Tommy called Techno his brother to annoy him, he never knew he was saying that to his brother. Which clicked in his mind that that's why Tech made a weird face every time he said "you're like my brother" as if he wasn't actually his brother.

Wilbur never told Tommy and lied to him his whole life about his brother not caring and leaving them. This makes Tommy rethink his whole life with Wilbur and wonders what else he lied about. If his whole life was a lie. And he can't get answers cause Wilbur was dead.

#technoblade #wilbur soot #tommyinnit #dsmp #sbi au #ao3 author #Eira_Nyx's Au's #sbi angst #neapolitan trio #bedrock bros #fanfic #c!tommy #c!techno #c!wibur #mcyt

116 notes · View notes

tree-lizard · 2 years

Text

Something something Utah

113 notes · View notes

mysticalsoot · 8 months

Text

you changed, it's good

A/N; soooo ive kinda been in a writing slump so take this fic thats been building dust in my docs- also tysm for 300!! hopefully ill come up w smth for it lol- I have no clue how to process that information omf

summary; months after wilbur's revival and his reunion with you and the daughter you share (that he didn't know about), you let out pent emotions and have a heartfelt talk with wilbur

tw// swearing, not lore accurate, im a wilbur apologist shush, children, suicidal mentions maybe? lmk if i missed anything

words; 1.8k

pairings; c!wilbur x gn!reader (they're parents), revivedbur x gn!reader

pronouns; none!

masterlist

—★—

The time since Wilbur’s death and revival may not have been that long, but for you, it felt like ages--you had a child now, his, yes but you’ve begun another life. A life with a little girl, a life without him. But now, he was here and he was trying. You appreciated it but god did you fear it too. The memories taunted you, the hurt and the aching that still lingered, haunted you. He haunted you.

Your head is rested upon Wilbur's chest, and the thumping of his heart echoes in your mind. His left arm wraps around your shoulder and your own arms around his middle. Your daughter, Willow lays against his other side, curled into a ball, and his other arm held tightly around her in comforting warmth. This moment is what you imagined life to be all those years, before everything…happened.

You seemed to always subconsciously wish for moments like these, at least, in the past few years. One’s where Willa has a parent other than yourself, someone else to hold her, and someone to hold you too. Domestic bliss, calm and serene. No wars or bombs, no screaming, and yelling. Simply the sound of your partner's heart and the sight of him holding your child. It's a reassurance of sorts, a silent "everything will be okay, even if it wasn't before".

Things used to be so not okay that having this calmness is nice. Having his arms around you again is lovely, being able to kiss him and hold him, to watch him help raise your daughter, to play with her and hold her. Tickle her and carry her on his shoulders, hold her hand with his, and walk with her on the prime path. To teach her how to ride a horse, after bringing one home for her, and helping her name him.

"Wilbur?" You whisper to him, moving your head back, your gaze locked upwards on him. He looks down at you, a soft smile written on his features, and he tilts his head to the side.

"Yes, my love?" he leans down, leaving a soft kiss to your lips and you smile through it, the warmth in your stomach swelling the same way it did when you both were younger. You take a moment to admire him, the way his curls fall in his face, how his glasses are always crooked and now are no different, and how the small freckles he adorns sprinkle his cheeks. Everything about him is beautiful, and so it brings you back to what you wanted to say. What you need to say, what is right to say.

"What happened? After lmanburg? You were so…" Your mind goes blank for a word to properly describe it, without hurting him. Cruel, evil, manipulative, the list goes on. It's odd to you, how someone could become so horrible and then return to a better version of their old self in a matter of years. "Horrible, then. To everyone, to yourself."

His face falls, and so does your heart, falling to the deep pits of your stomach. You can feel the life drain from your face and it hurts. You feel an immense dread, and wonder if you hadn’t mentioned it, how you would feel. It's a difficult subject for him but at this point, you think it had to be brought up. How can one accept this happy domestic life without knowing the full truth?

"I got lost, I think. Lost in the greed I suppose." He pauses, dips his head down to press his forehead against yours. His eyes close and he takes a breath, his arm letting go of Willa and placing his hand on your cheek, fingers gently brushing the skin and his eyes hold a warm sadness to them, "I wanted the joy still, the happiness for our future. But it got pushed back. I was blinded. There's a lot I don't remember. I mean I remember pieces here and there. Bribes from dream, desperate attempts to make things work for everyone and everything."

"And then what? You realized hurting us was better?" You’re hostile now, something switching or rather, breaking in your heart. You know you shouldn't react this way, get defensive--but a piece of you is still painfully angry and hateful, filled to the brim with spite and it’s accidentally let through the cracks. You back up a moment, his touch leaving you, hand falling to his side, head still dipped down.

"I realized I couldn't make it perfect for everyone, there were sacrifices I had to make." He takes another deep breath, wraps his arms around Willow again, she doesn't move. "And I made the wrong ones, I know that. I see that." Wil looks down at the lump that his daughter forms, a little ball of a girl. She moves to grab onto his arm in her sleep and she hums, a soft smile adorns his lips.

You feel you should be satisfied with his answers, and half of you is, but you still wonder; "Why? Why did you do it?"

His gaze lets its grip off of Willow, walks up and he looks to you, pupils big and somber, bloodshot and wet. "To not hurt anyone anymore. It was for the best."

You want to scream at him now, tell him how much of an idiot he is. Screams that are bloodcurdling, one’s that most definitely would wake up Willa and anyone surrounding the area. That no, killing yourself in fact does not stop the hurt, it only fuels it, like a spark to dead grass. He made Phil kill him, he made you watch as he destroyed his livelihood, your shared livelihood, watch as he's stabbed to death by his own goddamn father. It was never ending with him, it was always something new, something bigger, more painful than before. You want to storm away, back off, and not let him near you for a split second, it's all an overreaction, you tell yourself but you simply can't help it.

You stare at him for a moment, your expression blank and emotionless. Willow turns onto her back, eyes open slightly and her arms reach up to Wil. "Hey, daddy." She mumbles out, a smile of her own sculpted onto her features. Wil smiles back.

"Hello, my love. Are you ready for bed?" He asks, lifting her up by her sides and gently sitting her on his lap. She nods sluggishly, and she rests herself against him, chest to chest, head on shoulder, and tiny arms wrapped around his neck. "Let's get you into bed then, sweetie."

You just watch, your eyes follow him as he walks out of the living room, into the kitchen, and down the stairs. You sit there, alone now. Thoughts cycle through your mind. All the things you had wished for, every thought that graced your consciousness, every question unanswered for years. You missed him, you really truly did. But you aren’t sure who you missed more, and is the one you missed, the one you lie with at night? The one that wraps his arms around you in the morning, leaves a sloppy kiss on your cheek, and brushes the hair out of your face. The man that waits there, holding you, until Willow comes rushing in the room to ‘wake’ you both up. The same man that shushes you lovingly and says "Pretend you're asleep, love," the moment he hears her bedroom door open, so she can have the satisfaction of waking you both.

You now rest your head on the back of the couch, your gaze focused on the window on the opposite side of the room. Snow gently falls past it, frost taken over the glass. The fire crackles and warms you like a hug.

What feels like moments later, even warmer arms wrap around you, pulling you closer to the body they're attached to. "Wil?" You call out, your voice coming out gravelly, and you realize you must've fallen asleep.

"Hey.." It comes out weak, the word feels broken and sounds broken. "I'm sorry, for all the shitty things I've done. I know my reasoning isn't nor has it ever been valid. But I'm here now and I'm not going anywhere, and I don't have any plans of mass terrorism." His voice becomes clearer, breaks up less and he dips his head down again, pressing his cheek against yours. You nearly open your eyes, but keep them closed, and revel in the feeling of him more.

"I know." You pause, and let your own arms wrap around him, but instead of his middle like he has you held--you wrap your arms around his neck, your hands weaving into his mop of curls. "I think part of me still hurts, it's stupid I guess." You rest your head on his shoulder, and he pulls you closer, your legs now wrapped around him too.

"It's not, I hurt you. I take accountability for that and I hate that I even did it in the first place." His voice cracks again, and you know he means it. You pull back, your hands pressed against his cheeks and he looks up at you.

You hesitate, mulling over the words falling off his lips, his expression knotted in anxiety. Your thumbs run over his pink-tinted cheeks and you kiss his forehead.

"If you were that same person, you wouldn't say that." You take a breath, "I think you've changed. In a good way."

He sighs, wrapping his arms tighter around you. "I hope I have."

“I know you have,” You pause, grasping his face in your hands and getting him to pull back simply so he can gaze at you.

“How?” His voice is merely a croaked-out mumble but it’s enough that you hear it loud and clear.

“Would you be here, in my arms, after putting our daughter to bed if you hadn't changed?" You paused, eyes gazing deeply into his and searching for any doubt to crush with your words, "Would you even search for us if you were that same man? For good, not to hurt us."

He shakes his head, "I changed, didn't I?"

"In the best way possible." A soft kiss placed on his lips, one of love and devotion. A simple peck speaking every word and emotion you've ever felt--but only the good.

He smiles against the kiss, grasping at your sides and pulling you closer and closer to him. You were already so close, practically one, but he felt the need to pull you so much closer that not only were your bodies one, but so were your souls.

He pulls away from the kiss, hands resting on your face, "I love you," he nuzzles his nose against yours and you giggle, twisting your fingers into the curls on the back of his head, "so much." The last bit is whispered, like a quiet promise. A promise of devotion and loyalty. Something you're glad to finally have.

There's nothing in the way of him being with you. With your daughter.

"I love you more," You smile to him softly, a kiss placed on his forehead, and you push stray curls out of his face as he nuzzles his head against your chest.

taglist; @ella-fella-bo-bella @lillylvjy @sleepyburs @lotusanonymouse @lcvejoy

#wilbur soot #wilbur soot x reader #wilbur x reader #c!wibur #c!wilbur x reader #c!wilbur #c!wilbur soot #c!wilbur soot x gn!reader #wilbur soot x gn!reader #wilbur soot x y/n #dsmp x reader #dsmp wilbur #dsmp wilbur soot

151 notes · View notes