#c!wilbur oneshot
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Helloo! I was wondering if u could write a revivebur x gn!reader where he says goodbye to them before leaving for utah? Mostly fluff but with a little angst or whatever u think will work best if u choose to write this ^-^ no pressure!
howdy !! i am shamefully early to this because, admittedly, i was so excited i got a request lol. thank you sm for the prompt and i hope i did well by it ! xx
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He wasn’t going to change his mind. He had already told you weeks ago of his plan… he could hide it from everyone else, but he could never hide it from you. You had observed him at his desk, writing letters upon letters to different people from his past by candlelight each night. When you finally asked what he was up to, he just couldn’t bring himself to lie. He was going back home.
You didn’t even know he came from the states… I mean, for starters, he’s british. But he never mentioned Utah, or what it was like growing up there, so you figured he’d just always lived on the SMP. When he told you he was going back, you did everything expected of the situation: begged, pleaded, sobbed… It just wasn’t fair. His life was always a bit of a mess, sure, but it just wasn’t right that he decided now of all times to leave it behind. To leave you behind.
Yet there was no changing it. You accepted it, begrudgingly or not, because there was no use trying to talk the man out of it- he was always a stubborn prick. You decided it would be best at this point to treasure the time you had left together, and to silently hope and pray he’d come back for you one day.
It was the night before he departed, and no matter how tightly he held you, you already felt him slipping away. You hadn’t stopped crying, just holding tightly to his yellow knitted jumper like you could stick to him with your tears and force him to stay stuck to you forever. You couldn’t even call it crying at this point, the tears were just flowing out silently. He just held you back, lightly rubbing your back in circles. You don’t know how long you stayed like that- it could’ve been hours- before he pulled back. Your face was a mess- puffy, wet and tinted pink. He smiled warmly down at you and sat up from the couch you were lying on, climbing over you and walking over to your record player. It was a suitcase style leather player you had brought with you when you first arrived, and over the past few years you had been collecting discs to play on it. He pulled out one of the said discs and laid it down on the turntable, turning the machine on and moving the needle to the first grooves.
“Care for a dance, darling?” He offered his hand out to you as you slowly pulled yourself off the couch.
“I look awful.” You said, catching your own reflection in a mirror mounted on the wall.
He stood over you and wiped your face before kissing your forehead, causing heat to gather in your cheeks.
“Nonsense. You’re as charming as the first time I laid eyes on you.”
“That’s really corny.” You mumbled with a small smile, throwing your arms over his shoulders. It was a bit of a reach, but you managed. He put his hands on your waist, and the two of you swayed together. Gentle piano music filled the room, enveloping you both with sweet, small sounds. Soft amber glows from hovering lanterns lit the room gently above you, your shared cabin exuding comfort. You wish you could bottle his smell at the moment- some mix between a tobacco cologne and the scent of a freshly blown out candle. It was strange, but so unique to him. Just one more thing to miss.
You sighed, and he pulled you in closer by the hip, once again embracing you.
“I love you.” He whispered down to your ear.
“I love you, too.” Your voice became weak and muffled from his closeness.
He pulled back and went down for a kiss, before you interrupted him.
“I’ve decided I won’t miss you, actually.” You said, looking up to him with a faint smile.
“Oh?” He cocked his brow, but smiled back to you.
“Yep. I’ll be fine.” You said, swaying around on your heels.
“Oh. Then, I’ll be fine too.” He shrugged.
“You won’t be fine. You’ll be bored to death. What even is there to do in Utah? Go to 7/11? Join mormonism?” You said, voice gaining more strength.
“Oh yeah. Maybe work at Subway, who knows. A real land of opportunities.” He assured, grinning.
You both laughed a bit, dancing the whole time. When the record ended and you both were done cracking jokes about how shitty your homes were, you headed to bed. You held him tightly under the woolen blankets, the lightness of the night helping you forget the day ahead. He occasionally would bend down to kiss or caress you, eyes heavy with exhaust and content. You breathed him in and remained in his warmth all the way to sleep. When you woke, golden sunlight just breaking beyond your sheer curtains, he was gone.
You found one of his yellow sweaters at the foot of the bed, along with a note on top of it. It was short and sweet, but said everything you needed to hear. He loved you dearly, and one day- one day relatively soon- he’d be back for you. You slipped on his sweater over your sleep shirt, wrapping your arms around yourself and squeezing tight. You could still smell his cologne on it. You smiled, tucked the note into your bedside drawer, and got ready for one of many days awaiting his return.
#Revivebur x Reader#dsmp x reader#c!wilbur x reader#im trying to take the utah arc seriously but its really hard#hurt comfort#dsmp oneshot#mcyt x reader#dsmp x you
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Midnight Work – A TNTduo one-shot
Hi!! First time posting smt I wrote here, I never used this but I'll try use it more often! Just wanna make some comments about it, please read it before reading the one-shot
–English it's not my first language(i'm from Brazil) so there might be some errors during the one-shot, but I tried to do the best I can, I wrote this in portuguese for the first time and then changed it to english
–This one-shot is about the characters, not the streamers
–You can think in this one-shot with both c!Tntduo or q!Tntudo, it's just some random AU of them living a normal life, without yk magic and not-normal things, so you can see it as the characters from dsmp or qsmp(also, the personalities might not be so accurate so pls don't say things like "he wouldn't do that", it's called an alternative universe for a reason, not bc it's accurate to the canon things)
–I did this just to practice my writing and creativity, so there may be some continuity errors and some things that are a bit confusing
–I wrote this in the early hours of the morning and when I was getting to the end I was already falling asleep so I made it kind of a lazy ending and I'm not going to fix it for now
–Maybe in a while I'll rewrite this so don't be surprised if you see another version of this in the future
It wasn't uncommon for Quackity to find Wilbur working in the middle of the night, he was too busy with work, of course Quackity understood that it was complicated to work with music and that Wilbur often had creative blocks, so he spent hours trying to think of new songs and forced himself to stay up until late working, which obviously wasn't healthy for Wilbur. Quackity knew this, he was fully aware of it and so was Wilbur, Quackity cared a lot about his health, of course he did, he was his boyfriend, why not worry? And it was with this thought in mind that Quackity made Wilbur swear that he would no longer sleep so late and would take better care of his health.
Quackity woke up in the middle of the night, he didn't know exactly why he woke up, after a few seconds in that limbo between being asleep and awake he turned to the side and felt the lack of Wilbur in the bed, confused he slowly got up and looked around the room, when he understood what happened Quackity left the room and slowly went to the office of the small apartment, the office that Wilbur used to compose his songs, he saw through a small crack in the door a dim light leaving the office, then slowly opened the door, Quackity saw Wilbur sitting in the chair with several papers spread across the table and with the guitar on his lap, he approached Wilbur slowly and carefully trying not to scare him, now being closer to the table he could better see the papers on the table, several scores and unfinished lyrics, Wilbur was writing something down on a sheet of paper and sometimes he stopped, tapping his pencil on the table and creating a rhythm
—Wilbur?– Quackity said softly and sleepily as he approached Wilbur, he turned back when he heard the other's voice and looked at him for a few seconds before speaking
—Quackity, hi...what are you doing up? Shouldn't you be sleeping at this time?
—You too…– Quackity hugged him and let his head rest on Wilbur's head
—Ah…yeah, you’re right…– Wilbur returned the hug and sighed
—Then why aren't you sleeping?
—I had an idea, I needed to finish it before the idea disappeared from my mind…
—Did it have to be in the middle of the night?—He looked at the digital clock on the desk, 1:35 am
—Believe me, I also wish it hadn't been at dawn...it was sudden
—Wilbur, you promised you would take better care of yourself…
—I know, I'm just going to finish here and I swear I'm going to sleep.–He said and sighed
Quackity let go of the hug and looked at Wilbur.
—No, come to sleep – The Mexican said and held the other’s hands
—Quackity I need to finish here
—You need to sleep—He pulled him to get up
—But-
—”But” nothing, come on, let’s go to sleep–Quackity brought Wilbur closer and hugged him sideways, going to the bedroom
They arrived in the room and Quackity pulled Wilbur to lie down on the bed, staying next to him.
—I really needed to finish that song…
—You finish tomorrow, your health is more important—He approached him and rested his head on the British's shoulder
—What if I don't remember my ideas when I wake up?
—I help you think of new ideas
Wilbur sighed
—Look...I know it's difficult for you to come up with new ideas, but if you're tired it'll be even more complicated, rest a little and tomorrow you try again, who knows, maybe it'll even be easier?–Quackity said and gave a kiss on Wilbur's cheek, who smiled and hugged Quackity —Thank you, Quackity…–He said softly and slowly closed his eyes, Quackity just smiled and slowly closed his eyes too, snuggling into the hug and relaxing his body to go back to sleep, Wilbur did the same and faster than they thought, the two fell asleep again.
#tntduo#oneshot#dsmp#qsmp fanart#tntduo au#fluffy#fluffy one shot#mcyt#q!wilbur#q!quackity#c!wilbur#c!quackity#q!quackbur#c!quackbur
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Tntober day 1; Music
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Ao3
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It was 4am. Wilbur definitely should not drive at 4am.
Which was why he had Quackity switch places with him.
Quackity sighed as he buckled himself in. “Was this all a ploy so you can choose the music for the rest of the drive?”
“Maybe,” Wilbur teased, bringing up Spotify on his phone and switching through playlists. “It’s your car, anyway.”
“Wilbur, I’m not listening to your bullshit playlists, it’s the same damn song on repeat.”
“The best kind of playlist.”
“Play one of mine.”
“I think not. You have the privilege of driving, I have the privilege of music.”
“The priv- the privilege of driving? Are you crazy? Look at this shit- we’re on the highway at 4am, right on the 60 mile speed limit-” He takes a sip of cherry cola and places it on the dashboard- “-because your dad’s gonna be pissed if he wakes up with you gone, and the brakes fuck me over every time I drive this damn car. We’re in a super speed death machine. I want to pick the fucking music.”
The cars around them slowed to a stop, and they found themselves at an intersection.
“And now we’re stuck in traffic.”
Wilbur winced. “I know I… shouldn’t have kept us out so late.”
“You shouldn’t have insisted we come out here in the first place. George lives a thousand fucking miles away, and his parties are just an excuse to wreck his mom’s house. We know this.” Quackity tapped on the steering wheel worriedly. “I know my parents won’t give a shit, but your dad’s got a curfew, and he already hates me.”
“He doesn’t hate you, he just doesn’t like that you got in a fight with Techno.”
“Techno gave me a permanent face scar, I think that asshole maybe deserved-” Quackity cut himself off with Wilbur’s stern look. “Never mind. Sorry.”
“It’s fine,” Wilbur sighed, “He was being an asshole.”
Traffic didn’t move. There was a short silence between the teenagers. Quackity took another sip of his cherry cola.
“Hey, why don’t you pick the music,” Wilbur mumbled. He handed his phone over. “While you’ve stopped.”
Quackity took it from Wilbur’s hands with a quiet “Thanks.” Wilbur tried not to focus too much on his touch.
The car was cold, and Wilbur was colder. Quackity kept the fans on and pointed them towards himself because he was a demon with fire under his skin or something, and was constantly complaining about heat for no damn reason. He radiated warmth (in a lot of different ways.)
“Oh my god, your playlists are shit,” Quackity chuckled, and Wilbur smiled along, despite the personal offense he took to that. Quackity scrolled for a little bit before tapping something and handing the phone back to Wilbur.
The radio spurred to life. “Connected.” A rich, melodic tune started playing.
Wilbur checked his phone.
“This is the Romance playlist,” he laughed.
“Hm?”
“I said this is the Romance playlist, Q,” Wilbur repeated.
Quackity shrugged. “Didn’t even see it. I’m a simple man; I see Paramore, I click.”
“-not a walk in the park to love each other, but when our fingers interlock, can’t deny, can’t deny you’re worth it.”
Wilbur turns off his phone and turns it over on his lap, staring out the passenger side window and trying to ignore the implications.
“-after all this time I’m still into you…”
The chorus came up, and it’s Wilbur’s favorite song, he swears, but he couldn’t find it in him to sing along. He worried about whether that would be awkward. (He only mouthed the words, just a little bit.)
That is, until Quackity starts mumbling the lyrics under his own strained breath, and things kind of devolve from there until they’re both belting the song at the top of their lungs.
Most songs from there on were ones both of them knew. Wilbur couldn’t tell you why, he doesn’t even remember where he heard the songs first, but it didn’t matter. Quackity was ecstatic about it.
Wilbur recognized a shattered streetlight through the hazy drizzle outside. They were almost home. He let a breath escape him and looked over at Quackity, who was singing along with a golden smile to a song Wilbur forgot the name of.
They pulled up to his house.
Quackity turned down the radio and ran a hand through his hair, careful not to disturb his beanie. “Alright. Good luck getting in.”
It was 5am then. The street was entirely dark except for a streetlight off in the distance. Wilbur didn’t move. He just looked at his friend for a bit.
Quackity downed the last of his cherry cola and stuffed it in a bag in the back seat before sitting up with a sigh. He caught Wilbur’s gaze.
Wilbur had no idea what song was playing softly, distortedly, through the speakers when he leaned over the center console to kiss Quackity, and he never will. He’ll only remember cherry cola, cold air, and his friend’s shocked, flushed expression when Wilbur opened the door and stepped out of the car.
#tntober#tntduo#c!tntduo#c!quackbur#quackbur#oneshot prompts#writing prompts#tntduo fluff#tw food#tw kiss#tw car#its not my best but the prompts just came out today so. i tried lmao#hope im using the right tags#dsmp#dream smp#dsmp shipping#c!wilbur soot#c!quackity
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We can't all be butterflies
as promised a fic! based off that one time Q said Wilbur was Tommy’s attachment
Summary: After a dangerous escape from prison Dream needs a quick way to get to Tommy. Luckily he finds a shortcut in Tommy's only attachment
Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/43398390
#the next oneshot should be in next 3 days depending on my mental health/ school stuff#c!wilbur#c!dream#c!punz#c!MADduo#dsmp fic#lady writes
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Hiya! This is the tertiary bog to @ax-y10
C'mon, there's got to be something near me, right?
What good is an empty train station?
A train station with no people, no trains, nothing.
Just curved walls and a train track.
- Wilbur Soot oneshots (Renthebox on Wattpad)
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Lonely Soul
The feeling of just appearing while also feeling that you had existed for years was strange. Knowing about something that once was and what you now are, feeling that strange disconnect between you and yourself. Ghostbur had been wandering alone for a long while, he didn't know how much time had passed. Somehow plagued by loneliness yet feeling content and happy. He could almost describe it as carefree.
Emotions were a strange thing, so Ghostbur chose not to dwell on them for too long.
Though, someone might not get from first glance at the ghost with the tears that constantly streamed down his face and the large gash in his sweater could be happy or content. At first glance you'd probably think the ghost was in pain, he wasn't. Ghostbur didn't think he remembered what pain even was. Pain could probably be described as the strange sensation on his skin from the water that fell down his cheeks Or when the rain fell onto his skin, causing a little sizzle at each drop. Maybe pain was the strange way people would look at him, like they were looking at a painting of a person they had lost years before. Staring at him like he was the embodiment of the grief they couldn't move past.
Ghostbur honestly didn't know why everyone looked so upset whenever he was around, he wasn't Wilbur. He wasn't the person who had caused so many to lose their home.
He was Ghostbur.
All he wanted was for people to know that's all he was. The little ghost who wandered aimlessly, handing blue to those who looked and lost as he felt.
The soul who some described as an opposite of who Wilbur once was.
Ghostbur was content with people saying he was the opposite of whatever Wilbur was.
He was happy to be something different than the man that blew up an entire country.
He was Ghostbur, the carefree ghost that was looking for something. Maybe someone? He wasn't quite sure but didn't mind floating aimlessly by himself until he found what he was looking for.
#ghostbur and friend#ghostbur#dsmp wilbur#dsmp#dsmp ghostbur#dsmp fanfic#fanfic#wilbur soot#c!wilbur#c!ghostbur#ghostbur fanfic#dream smp ghostbur#dream smp#dreamsmp#dreamsmp fanfic#short fanfic#oneshot#dsmp oneshot
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hey wanna see a paragraph from a c!wilbur one-shot I'm writing
trick question I'm gonna show you anyway
it's times like these where you're said to notice the most insignificant things. for some it's the feeling of blood on their skin, for others it's the smell of death. not him, no those things had been a constant in his life for who knows how long. no what wilbur noticed, what he felt, was warmth. his body that had long gone cold, had become warm.
feel free to guess the context
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[Crimeboys] Faded
CHARACTER/S: Wilbur Soot [He/Him] || Ghostbur [He/Him] || Tommyinnit [He/Him] ||
PROMPT/GENRE: Ghost/Angst
REASON FOR WRITING: bludobyy’s SBI Prompt List - Day 4: Ghost
WORD COUNT: 1888
//TW:
- Spoilers for Dream SMP Events; Canonical Character Death, Wilbur’s Revival; Ghostbur’s Death; Tommy’s Death; Wilbur’s Death; L’Manburg’s Creation; War; Mention of c!Dream; Detailed Description of Wounds; Mentioned c!Tubbo; Mentioned c!Ranboo; Mentioned c!Technoblade;
DISCLAIMER: Dream SMP is a Minecraft Survival turned Roleplay created by a homeless teletubby and his friends. Author is a teenager suffering with crippling anxiety and autism who uses writing as an outlet. This is not canon. This is merely fanfiction.
SUMMARY: He never considered the consequences. And now, Ghostbur is gone.
DATE WRITTEN: December 10, 2022
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Empty and hollow. Like a piece of his heart had vanished. Sure, Wilbur was back. The only reason he had even agreed to putting Dream in prison, was to bring Wilbur back. But he hadn’t thought of the price he’d have to pay. He never considered the consequences. And now, Ghostbur is gone. Maybe, maybe things would be better this way. But was it worth it?
Tommy could still remember it like it was yesterday. Building the hto dog van. Sitting on the bench with Tubbo. Laughing and spending time with Wilbur and Tubbo. Hanging out with Eret, Fundy, Niki, Jack Manifold.. Back when it was all simple. Back when it was just him and Tubbo against the world. Back when L’Manburg was still his home, Wilbur’s unfinished symphony.
Why couldn’t it be simple? Why did Dream have to fight? Why did they decide L’Manburg had to go? Why couldn’t this server ever have nice things, enjoy an ounce of peace or quiet? It was like as soon as one conflict ended, another would begin. It was a vicious cycle of good and bad, heartache and grief, death and life. But the question was… Why?
Tommy remembered how the Manburg Rebellion ended. He remembered all the events clearly. Tubbo’s execution. The pit. President Schlatt’s heart attack. Technoblade’s betrayal. Philza’s arrival. Wilbur’s death.
He remembered the way the ground shook before it was all gone. He remembered how it felt, running back onto the battlefield with his gear, the ground shaking, and the smell of intensive gunpowder as fireworks and TNT exploded around him. The loud noise drowned out the cries and screams of all those locked in fierce combat. He remembered looking towards where the podium once stood, the way the TNT had shattered away the earth, revealing the little stone room inside.
There stood Wilbur and his father, Phil. Scrabbled all over the walls were the lyrics of the anthem, just barely legible in Wilbur’s insanity. It was difficult to hear, but Wilbur seemed to be shouting at Phil as the winged-man stared at him in uncomfortable disbelief. The next thing Tommy knew, there was a sword thrust through Wilbur’s chest, ripping through the fabric of his brown trench coat as it went clean through his flesh. The sword being stained in crimson, held firmly in the grip of Wilbur’s own father. He was gone. Just like that.
And with that, the War ended. Technoblade left, presumed to never be seen again. Tubbo became L’Manburg’s President with Tommy as his vice. And Wilbur came back. But not as himself. Rather, he returned as a ghost of his younger self who asked to be called ‘Ghostbur,’ but claimed he was fine with still being called Wilbur. He just asked that people accept that he wasn’t Wilbur.
Ghostbur was a strange creature. He looked and sounded just like a younger version of Wilbur Soot. But the apparition wasn’t really much like the former President. He only remembered the ‘good’ things, memories that Wilbur had considered happy. All his other memories faded, the ‘bad’ and unhappy firmly dissipated. And any time someone told him of Wilbur’s past actions, the horrid atrocities he committed, Ghostbur would forget. Failing to recall these memories later when questioned.
It was inconvenient at most. Tommy felt as though his brother figure was still gone. He couldn’t tell Ghostbur anything serious. The ghost would either misinterpret or forget. And it was especially bad when Exile occurred.
The catalyst for Tommy’s Exile happened when someone new joined the server. Ranboo, a strange creature whose colors were split in half. One side black, the other white, with mismatched red and green eyes to match. Dressed in a crown and suit. Tommy wasn’t too fond of Ranboo in the beginning, but during the worst period of his life, Ranboo was the only help he really had.
It all started when Ranboo and Tommy robbed and burnt King George’s Holiday Home. Technically speaking, that’d have not much effect on L’Manburg itself. George may have been a former vice of L’Manburg, but he was never a citizen. However, the Greater Essempi demanded that L’Manburg provide some compensation for the attack on the server’s King. As a result, Tommy was removed as Vice President and put on probation while Ranboo received no punishment, due to Tommy lying and covering for them.
But this wasn’t enough for Dream. He refused to accept Tommy’s punishment. He believed that he deserved a worse and unfair punishment for his crime. In order to get his way, Dream demanded that Tommy be exiled from L’Manburg. Or else, he’d build obsidian walls around the miniscule country and refuse to let them leave.
Poor, sweet Tubbo had always been a pushover back then. And in an attempt to stop others from undermining his authority, he gave into the enemy. He allowed Dream to walk all over him, and he exiled Tommy, his own best friend, from L’Manburg, a country he’d founded. …Tommy never really seemed the same after his time in Exile, alone with nothing but the ghost of his brother, but he tried.
During Exile, Ghostbur really did try his best. Even if he didn’t fully understand the severity of the situation, even if he mistook it for a Holiday, he still tried. He tried to be there for Tommy, he tried to comfort him, he even went as far as to give him a compass that pointed directly to Tubbo. But even so, it wasn’t enough. And his naivety allowed Dream to undermine the ghost.
When Tommy chose to have a beach party, for some kind of excuse to see his friends once more. He made the mistake of giving the invitations to Ghostbur to hand out. But instead, Dream lied to the ghost, taking the invitations and burning them, all after he told Ghostbur to go wander in the snow. Ghostbur melts in the rain, in the ice, in the snow, in the cold in general. Was Dream trying to kill him? To get rid of what was possibly the only thing keeping Tommy from befalling to his control? …Who knows. Yet fortunately, Ghostbur found his way to Technoblade’s cabin. Right on the eve of the Butcher Army coming to imprison Techno and execute him. …Did Ghostbur ever do anything useful? Or had he always been so childish?
Yet Ghostbur’s existence hadn’t lasted long. Only a mere six months. Shortly after the events within Pandora’s Vault, the events in which Tommy had been trapped and brutally beaten to death by his abuser within, so much changed. Tommy was no longer the same energetic and loud boy he’d once been. That usually bright light to his appearance had now gone out like a flame in the rain, leaving him dull and hollow.
A white streak permanently burnt into his now dulled golden hair, all the life in his bright blue eyes long dead, and the scars that littered skin became more and more noticeable. Especially the rippling gash along his forehead, trailing down the side of his face. The dried blood that seeped into the skin around his wounds and scarring. Maybe it was pity that was the reason Ghostbur, Tubbo, and Ranboo agreed to go along with Tommy’s plan to kill Dream. Or maybe it was fear of the revival power the false God held.
But of course, Tommy’s plan failed. When did any of his ideas ever go to plan?
“Tommy! Please.. You said I would be okay!” Ghostbur shouted, clutching at the sleeves of his yellow sweater as hot tears burned his skin. This was a bad idea. The worst he’d ever indulged in. Why did he agree to this? Why had he agreed to help Tommy sneak into the prison? Why why why why WHY?!
Ghostbur watched as the Warden, Sam, shouted as Tommy. He watched as Tommy panicked, trying to help Ghostbur remain calm all while ignoring the anger-filled scolding Sam attempted to scream at him. Ghostbur felt his blood run cold as he heard the bare footsteps against cold obsidian. Ghostbur felt everything around him pause, as a dirty, scarred hand reached around and grabbed him by the collar of his sweater.
And then. He felt nothing. Only for a moment. Until his eyes opened, and he was on a train. The loud blaring of the horn and the sounds of scraping against the tracks echoed in his ears. Where was he? Why was he here? The train came to a halt, and a familiar dirty and scarred hand grabbed him again. Throwing him onto the platform as soon as the doors slid open. And he saw someone. He saw a man, a man whose face he saw every time he looked into the mirror only more filled with life, staring down at him with widened eyes. Almost as if he had no clue what he was looking at.
But then, the man got onto the train. And the train left. Leaving Ghostbur alone. Leaving Ghostbur in the dark. Leaving him to wither away into the same nothingness he’d be born of.
Tommy regretted that day. Tears rolling down his face like a loose faucet as he watched the ghost of his brother die. As he heard the beeping from his communicator indicating someone had died. It couldn’t be. It couldn’t be true. Ghostbur couldn’t be gone. Wilbur couldn’t be back. No no no no no NO.
Tommy felt himself go numb. Not hearing the laughter that befell Dream’s lips. Not hearing the shouting that came from Sam. Not listening to the way Sam shouted that Tommy should be dead. He just walked. He just left, making sure to grab Friend as he went. Oh how he was dreading facing his best friends once again.
Their reactions were expected, predictable. He had no reason to be shocked. He could see in their gazes the way that they wanted to question him, wanted to ask what had happened in there, why Ghostbur wasn’t with him, why the communicator had gone off. But he said nothing. Tommy only walked. His feet carrying him in the direction of the glass-covered crater that had once been L’Manburg.
He knew what was to happen. He knew what happened when someone got revived. And he knew that if Dream had really revived Wilbur, then they’d find him in the ruins of where that damned button had laid. In the damned ruins of where his own father had stabbed him. A part of him silently hoped that when they got there, he’d see nothing. That there would be nothing there. But the universe had never been kind to Tommyinnit.
Dread filled his gut. Was it wrong to say that he didn’t want to see his brother-figure alive again? That a part of him preferred the ghost over the real thing? Oh, if only.. The ghost was long gone. And Wilbur was here. Maybe things would change. Maybe the memories wouldn’t be so bloodied and faded. Maybe.. Just maybe this would be another chance at happiness. Maybe Wilbur would be different now. Maybe they could go back to the good old days. Back when Tommy was still himself. Back when Wilbur listened and heard him. Maybe things would be different now.
…When had Ghostbur’s naivety rubbed off on him?
#dreamsmp#dsmp#mcyt#dream smp oneshot#c!wilbur#c!wilbursoot#c!wilbur soot#tommyinnit#c!tommy#c!tommyinnit#ghostbur#c!ghostbur
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Unwritten Scripts of the SMP
[Twinsduo HC]
[Era: Doomsday Aftermath]
. . . . . ╰──╮
・❥・
╭──╯ . . . . .
The sound of running streams never ever stopped, never ran dry and never stopped flowing. It made Techno unnerved, as if he should be cautious in this abandoned ravine. Pogtopia. It felt bitter when it rolls off someone's tongue, unfamiliar to its history. Its story.
"You never come here often do you Techno?", the echo of a rasped-out but happy tone of a ghost. His feet barely touched the ground as he floated. White pupils stared back at the phantom and nodded in response. Why would he even come here? No one ever comes here anymore. Curiosity simply struck the shell of his friend brother.
Ghostbur let his blue-stained hands trail the jagged stone walls, smearing the same dye that was painted on his fingertips. A smile graced his lips, amused with what he was doing and Techno couldn't help but huff out a small snort.
They only walked. As if strolling in a park. Hanging out like what friends do. Making small conversations. Like what friends do.
It still irked Techno that this isn't his friend Wilbur Soot. This is Ghostbur. An illusion. Nothing more, nothing less. A less problematic version. A less unhinged variant of his friend. A more...Calm and optimistic version of his- Brother.
Yet it won't ever, ever change the fact that the original was still better.
He liked Ghostbur.
But he missed his brother Wilbur.
Techno was snapped out of his thoughts when he heard a slam of an object on a wall. Looking down, it appeared to be glasses. Cracked ones. It looked dirty, a bit rusted as it was presumably silver painted gold. He leaned down and picked the said item up, observing it. He sucked the cool breeze needing air to let himself realize what he was holding.
It was Wilbur's glasses. His name engraved on the frame. Techno forgot that Wilbur never used glasses yet still has them. It was for style he said once, but he noticed when he joined them during the Manberg vs Pogtopia era. It was true that Wilbur without his glasses looked more...'Deranged'. 'Mad as some say. 'Crazy' the voices whisper. Bloodshot eyes and heavy bags underneath added to the expression he held that creeped Tommy out.
Yet here it was. What a coincidence.
The voices could only laugh and taunt him.
What was the first thing he did to them? He wore them. Techno looked at a puddle that was conveniently there from the dripping of water above it. He glanced at his reflection, tilting his head.
He did have glasses already, why take these in?
The warrior only indulged himself in the image of him and the glasses. A ripple in the puddle formed another reflection, a brunette who wore a yellow sweater and a stupidly dirty red beanie.
He pursed his lips, stepping away from the mirrored play. It was ridiculous. It was mocking him.
His lean frame shook a bit, the run of the falls in the ravine walls drowned out his thoughts with a strum of a low guitar. The same stupid guitar he listened to. He pressed his ear against the chilling stone. The hum grew louder but still calm. Calm. It made Techno drift farther away from his senses and even farther away from the cacophony of chatter right at his ears. His legs swayed, a fear that he might fall if you watched him.
It was calm.
Calm.
Too calm.
A logical part of his brain knew this was also an illusion, but his instincts were drawn in by the comfort it brought.
A tune signaled his thoughts, pulled a string of memories, and flashed before him.
Deft fingers strum the strings, each knowing what note to pluck to form a beautiful melody to the ears. The moon-lit sky and twinkling stars of ancestors looked down at the piglin through a window, comically sitting at the doorstep of a musician’s room. Eyes shut, basking in the comfort that embraced his being, lulled him to sleep. Despite the uncomfortable position he was in, the symphony was enough to be the pillow under his head, like the god of dreams themself singing and rocking the warrior to a dreamless slumber and not a nightmarish rest.
He was at peace. He was calm.
But everything changed when a sword pierced into sunshine wool and flesh bled, disintegrating into particles of nothingness.
“Techno? Whose glasses are those?”
Blue trickled down the hand that held it out and the piglin responded with a small nod of his head.
“Yours.”
“Oh? I don’t wear glasses…”
“You used to”
“Really? Did Alivebur really have bad eyesight?”
Techno could only let out a laugh, the ghost oblivious to the hint of pain.
“Yeah..He kinda did.”
#technoblade#wilbur soot#wilbur dream smp#dsmp hc#dsmp wilbur#dsmp shitpost#c!techno#dsmp techno#dsmp oneshot#ghostbur#dsmp ghostbur#c!ghostbur
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Get Down if You’re Scared of Heights
Prompt: “Don’t look down.”
Summary: Tommy has a fear of heights. He hasn’t told Wilbur.
Pairing(s): Tommy & Wilbur
Warning(s): Mentions of attempted suicide
Character(s): Tommy, Wilbur
[AO3 link]
Tommy’s scared of a lot of things. Small spaces, Dream, losing the people he loves. However, there’s one fear nobody knows about, because Tommy never brings it up.
He is absolutely fucking petrified of heights. He never was before, and he blames exile – blames Dream for the quivering, cowardly mess he’s become.
He’s never told anyone. Not even Tubbo. So, when he and Wilbur travel to Logstedshire, and they begin towering right next to the structure that could have been his grave, he has to fight to maintain his composure.
Wilbur notices. Of course he does.
“Tommy?” The small platform of dirt beneath Wilbur’s feet crunches as he shifts his weight. “You alright, man?”
Tommy swallows; forces a smile. “‘Course I am, big man.”
Wilbur crosses his arms and raises an eyebrow. “Right.” His lips quirk up into the tiniest of smiles. It’s lighthearted; teasing, and Tommy knows that, but his heart still sinks. “Good to know your lying hasn’t gotten any better.”
Tommy keeps up the act; doesn’t let the mask slip. He scoffs. “Fuck off, Wil, I–”
Then, his gaze drops to the ground far below him, and everything flies out the window because oh fuck he’s really fucking high up holy shit that’s a long drop.
Wilbur follows his gaze, and his eyes widen in recognition. Without saying a word, he takes more dirt blocks from his inventory and begins connecting them to the side of his tower, creating a bridge which dips slightly to meet Tommy’s own. Careful not to accidentally knock either of them off, Wilbur takes Tommy by the shoulders. Tommy flinches, and Wilbur squeezes; a feeble attempt at comfort. He notices Tommy’s breathing has grown more erratic, and the colour has drained from his face.
“Tommy, look at me.”
Tommy’s gaze snaps up to meet Wilbur’s. His eyes are glazed over.
“Don’t look down, okay?” Wilbur’s hands move to Tommy’s arms, slowly rubbing up and down. “Keep your eyes on me. You’re alright, I promise you’ll be alright.”
Tommy doesn’t speak. Wilbur pulls him close, takes out a shovel, and gets to work digging the dirt out from beneath them, slowly lowering them to the ground. Even after their feet meet solid terrain, Tommy stays clung to Wilbur for several seconds before hesitantly pulling back.
“...Fuck,” he eventually breathes, running a hand through his disheveled hair. “Shit, I’m sorry Wil, I–”
“Don’t you dare apologise,” Wilbur snaps, regretting it immediately when Tommy flinches. His voice drops to something lower; quieter. “You were scared, Tommy. It’s normal.”
Tommy averts his gaze. “Yeah, but– but not for me.”
Wilbur frowns. “What do you–”
“I’m scared of heights, Wilbur.” Yeah, as if that isn’t already painfully obvious. “And… I wasn’t before.”
Wilbur crosses his arms loosely over his chest. “People develop new fears all the time, Tommy, it’s–”
“Yeah, but I doubt those fears come from jumping off a big, fuck off tower and nearly ending it all.”
Wilbur freezes. “What?”
Tommy gestures to the tower in the distance. “You want to know what that is, Wilbur? That’s where I went to kill myself because of what Dream did. The bottom of that tower almost became my grave, and so whenever I’m too high up, I just– I think about this and the fact that I let Dream worm his ugly Teletubby ass into my brain and mess with my head. So… yeah, I fucking hate heights now. Are you happy?”
Wilbur isn’t listening anymore. A more accurate phrase would be he can no longer hear Tommy; can no longer hear anything. Tommy’s voice and the sounds echoing throughout the SMP have all faded into white noise, and Wilbur finds himself in a place he vaguely recognises, surrounded by obsidian walls on every side. Behind him, he can hear the bubbles and pops of lava; feels the heat on his back.
“Wilbur?”
And there, standing in front of him, trapped in the lone prison cell, is Dream.
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feeling very jolly . if anyone has any requests (perhaps c! pumpkin duo, perhaps c! tnt duo, etc) for a holiday one shot… yk what to do ! ➡️✉️
aiming for snow , coats and scarves , hot chocolate with maybe a shot of rum , fireplaces , sledding and skiing , and so on
mwah send in requests mwah mwah
#dsmp oneshot#tntduo#pumpkinduo#sweaterduo#dsmp x reader#dsmp x you#dsmp#dsmp fanfic#c!wilbur#ah! so jolly#anon request
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i don't think i've ever said like. how i actually interpret c!sbi. or at least how it like “happened”. just bc while i know im the crimeboys guy i am also an sbi guy, most of my multi-chapter fics include them, a lot of my oneshots do too.
basically i think phil and technoblade are friends and have been for years, since before wilbur came to existence. they fought together, did a bit of antarctic empire antics together, and afterward they kind of chilled out. techno went back to skyblock and farmed and killed people, phil went back to his single-player world and had a kid (phil is one of the few who is allowed to have visitors on his single-player world bc kristin blessed it, which annoyed tf out of the other sky gods but Whatever), normal stuff. but phil’s kind of a flighty guy, so it wasn’t long before he started leaving more and more, going on adventures with techno again, traveling with or without wilbur. so wilbur was left home fairly often, and was pretty lonely just because, well, single-player world, but phil sent letters, and wilbur started adventuring on his own, and eventually even learned to travel to other servers, met people like schlatt, niki, etc etc.
but yeah, so at some point while wilbur is wandering servers, he meets this annoying kid at the markets who is trying, badly, to steal from vendors, and wilbur tries to be nice and help out this kid who IMMEDIATELY tries to rob him, the vendors, and they both somehow end up with the cops after them. and from then on, it was wilbur and tommy. they’re probably around 8 and 17 ? anyway, wilbur is probably away from home for a while, having adventures with tommy, the same way phil is off having adventures with techno, though they still manage to send letters and such (the crows are at their disposal after all lmao).
at some point, probably like two years later? wilbur and tommy decide to go to the single-player world, wilbur so he can show off his home and also introduce tommy and phil, and BOOM. tubbo is just. fucking there. bc sometime during those two years, phil found tubbo in a box and decided to take him in. it hasn’t been Too long since phil found him when wilbur comes back, but definitely too long to not have told wilbur. he just didn’t really think about it.
and obviously tommy and tubbo hit it off immediately, wilbur is probably a bit wary at first bc he has, y’know, daddy issues, but he ends up very fond of tubbo. they all stay there for a little while, technoblade coming in and out bc he’s besties with phil, fairly fond of wilbur, and finds himself thinking tommy and tubbo are ALRIGHT he GUESSES (he is fond of them too). techno probably teaches tommy and tubbo to fight, probably takes tommy to hypixel and watches his eyes turn to STARS.
but yeah, they all probably go in and out of each others lives, but wilbur, tommy, and tubbo are usually together while phil and techno are usually together. the only blood family are phil and wilbur, and tubbo is like. he’s not officially adopted, he never Really feels like phil’s son or wilbur’s brother, but they gave him a place and tommy gave him a home. also tommy is like. wilbur’s brother but he’s not phil’s son or anything. just gut feelings and shit. and techno is not really Family, just very fucking important to everyone, mostly phil, and comes off like a weird, distant, beloved uncle.
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Hey, so uh-
The wilbur situation has deeply affected the mcyt community, some people just effectively just cutting his parts out while others just focusing on his character. I don't want to make this about him, but man, it is hard because he was basically just everywhere in the past 3-4ish years for me.
Anyway, the issue at hand. I have been writing this fic since august, a dsmp x qsmp oneshot crossover about fundy and slime. He's not the main focus, but his character's relationship with them is a pretty important part of the story. It basically all falls apart without their history and I think I'd have to drop it completely before I could figure out how to rewrite.
In the past, every creator controversy that was actually an issue and not just twitter piling on someone for no reason, I abandoned the work to never leave the google doc. But, like I said, I've been working on this since august AND he isn't even the main focus. I just want to know your guys' opinions on this.
Summary down below for why it'd be so hard to write him out.
So, this takes place between the funeral and creation for gegg. Slimecicle is morning in his own self-destructive way when he "dies" on the traintracks and ends up in the afterlife (train station), which is basically where players go between servers.
We have an SCU reference as he finds a bar with schlatt and fundy. They basically explain how it works, but then an argument starts. This is the part that creates an issue on if I should finish this or not.
Schlatt and fundy argue about wilbur, which causes fundy to storm out. And schlatt cares in his own way, so he asks for slime's help. Fundy and slime end up bonding over their lives and other stuff. They compare the shared people in their lives and how they changed, which includes the elephant in the room.
I'll stop sharing there, since I want some surprises if I do end up finishing it. But, yeah, I wanted to ask if anyone would be interested in reading. I'm content in shelving it like the others, but I know the feeling of a fic with the perfect premise just being dropped right out of your hands. And according to my past poll, there is a decent percentage of people who like these characters like I do.
Abuse is still abuse. Thank you for your time.
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for your dsmp oneshot workshot thingy :D could you do c!punz with a royalty!reader (afab),breeding kink,daddy kink, and greater dsmp v lmanberg
✔️AFAB ✔️ Breeding Kink ✔️ Daddy Kink ✔️ Greater DSMP vs L'manberg
GENERATING...
███▒▒▒▒▒▒▒ 10% ███████▒▒▒ 50% ██████████ 100%
She is beauty, she is grace. But she is the enemy's daughter. If the elites of the Greater Dream SMP knew of his affair with the enemy, they wouldn't be too happy with him...
Though it's Punz, and he knows damn well he don't give two fucks.
A muffled moan made it past your glossy lips as you continue to suck on Punz's thick cock, while said man was sloppily eating at your wet pussy like it was his last meal.
When he felt like you both were prepared enough he shifted your body on all fours. Wasting no time in shoving his large girth deep within your warm walls.
You two really shouldn't be doing these inappropriate things right now, especially in the middle of the day... But you both can't help it.
L'Manberg and the Greater Dream SMP are still at war with each other, leaving both sides at an intense edge.
After the betrayal of Eret, your father, Wilbur, and older brother, Fundy, have been out of the castle lately to defend for your nation.
This led you to feeling lonely and isolated majority of the time. Hoping Wilbur and Fundy would return home soon.
Eventually you got tired of waiting and started sending secret messages to Punz. You knew how much your father despises the young soldier.
But he and the others don't need to know of your many unseemly meetings with him. Like you, Punz have no intentions of informing the Greater Dream SMP about his involvements with you.
But he has mentioned many times before if it did came to their notice, he won't care at all.
Only thing he cared about was getting the chance to spend more time with you.
The two of you did well in keeping your relationship hidden from both sides. It was later then Punz would start sneaking into the castle and head to your bedroom where you two would always have intimate nights together-- just like now.
Punz had his strong grip on the back of your neck, pushing your head onto the soft duvet as he pounds into you with brute force.
Your moans were successfully covered by the thick sheets, though the creaking sounds of your king sized bed remained constant.
"That's it baby, doing so well for daddy like a good girl," he whispered huskily into your ears.
He stopped thrusting into you for a bit to shift your body onto your back. The new position gave him a better view of your lewd face and perfect bare figure.
Punz then had your hands pinned on the bed as he resumed his brutal pounding inside you. You bit your lip sexily while letting out quiet moans.
"If only Wilbur can see you right now. He'd be so mad at how sinful you look right now," he licked at his lips while he looks at you with predator eyes.
Oh how you wished to let the whole world know how good Punz was fucking you right now. But unlike Punz you didn't wanna risk getting caught...well not just yet.
"Bet he'd be even more mad if I fuck a child into you. Would you like that princess?" you moaned at his intent.
"I'll fuck you so good you'll bare my children," Punz's thrusts becoming rougher by the second. (Honestly, you wouldn't mind baring Punz's kids. If anything you'd be more than happy to start a family with him.)
"Dad-dy please ah- don't slow down," you begged him, feeling your orgasm approaching soon.
"Anything for you princess~," he panted. Punz leaned down, kissing you passionately as his large figure completely consumed your smaller form.
Just like you asked, the speed and force of his thrusts never faltered. He broke the kiss and started trailing love marks to your collarbone.
Emitting more pleasure onto you, you felt your climax nearing as your walls tighten more around Punz.
"Gonna cum baby?" he asked gently kissing your neck, "mhm~ please daddy," you moaned, "me too, cum with with me baby~."
Punz wrapped his buff arms around you while he pushed the both of you to your limits.
With a final blow of his powerful thrusts, you squirted around his cock while his cum painted your walls white.
He laid down next to you, the two of you giving a moment to catch your breaths.
.
.
Not too long after the sounds of bells chimed, signaling the arrival of King Wilbur and Prince Fundy.
You and Punz looked at each other with wide eyes--
Shit!
#punz x reader smut#dream smp x reader smut#mcyt imagine#mcyt x reader smut#mcyt smut#punz smut#dsmp smut#punz imagine#dsmp x reader smut#dsmp x reader#dream smp x reader#punz x reader
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new ! intro
vee, or anything else. im nonbinary, they/he. i'm not a minor. royale high addict. i write fanfiction, sometimes. though, my posts are very inconsistent and i rarely have any motivation to write much. tw for nsfw fics !!
!! small hiatus, writing slowly !!
i'm not necesarily a dream fan, nor a dream anti. i'm neutral– i don't waste my life hating on people because they've been falsely accused of grxxming, or other things. i'll still write for him, and the rest of the dteam.
wips ! 4 (7..)
anons ! 🍭
list of people that i write for ;
(♡=fluff ! ☆=nsfw ! ⛆=angst)
c/cc! dream // ♡, ☆, ⛆
- praise - ☆
c/cc! gnf // ♡, ☆, ⛆
- intertwined - ☆
c/cc! sapnap // ♡, ☆, ⛆
- anger - ☆
c! wilbur // ♡, ⛆
c/cc! quackity // ♡, ⛆
c! techno // ♡, ⛆
- snow storm - ♡
or– any other c! dsmp // ♡, ⛆
personal favs ;coming soon.
i'm also a reality shifter– since late 2021. "quit" after i tried shifting on my first attempt and it didnt work, and then came running back to it a year later. shifted 0x. quite a few drs at the moment. some of them below ;
( bold = main ! italicized = finished )
- streamer dr // fem and masc
- resident evil 4 remake
- dream smp / lore
- the walking dead
- my hero academia
- jujutsu kaisen
- genshin impact
- call of duty: mw2
- ghost (band)
- creepypasta
- attack on titan
- south park
- bg3 (🫶)
boundaries under cut. ✁
I WILL NOT WRITE ; severely mental health related, sxlf hxrm, pxdophilia or ageplay, ANYTHING WITH FEET NO... roleplaying (i js cant write it), pet play type stuff, watersports, scat, anything nonconsensual– dubcon to a limit, anything nsfw with afab! reader being on their period, anything with pregnancy (js really iffy. ill write creampies n stuff but nono pregnancy), beastiality, vore, or anything against anyone's boundaries.
I WILL WRITE ; nsfw (ofc), ships, dark angst (for c! people only :'3), bdsm (to a limit, again), gore/dark content (to a limit.), oneshots or longer fics, fem/afab! reader, gn! reader
I CANT WRITE ; anything with taylor swift i'm sorry- i don't know her songs, and i can't listen to her songs like CAAAAN'T help
REQUESTS ; requests are open, and welcome!! u can even be an anon, if u want :3
ty for reading!! xx – i had another post about me, but it was a tad bit outdated so i've now replaced it with this one :3
ps. sorry for how long this is :( i tried to make it short-ish but it didnt rlly work out :'3
reblogs > likes
#ゞbillzoned#mcyt#sapnap#smut#dream#georgenotfound#dsmp#dteam#dream smp#dsmp x reader#dream smp x reader#technoblade#wilbur soot#quackity#dream x reader#gnf x reader#dteam x reader#technoblade x reader#quackity x reader
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