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f-lvke · 10 months

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Title: A Bottle of Beer Goes a Long Way

At the bar. Again. But this time, not a drop of abestine had touched Lucas's lips. Instead, his eyes were on Andrew. He knew Andrew; he was Q's kid after all. And the Royal Family was no less than popular. As high as his family title was, Andrew seemed disheveled now.

His black hair was a mess, fluffed up in all the wrong places. The collar of his shirt was tattered. And his gray eyes had long since dulled, from a iridescent light gray to a slightly darker, harder shade. His lips remained in a frown, only moving to accommodate the bottle he kept bringing to them.

Which was another thing; Andrew wasn't here to chat, not in the least. The look in his eyes made it obvious that the bottle in his hand wasn't the first, and certainly not the last. Even Joan, the bartender, gave him a sad look every time he passed by Andrew's seat.

Lucas watched Andrew with keen eyes, only flicking them away when he thought he'd been caught. He knew it would be better to just talk to him, and not just observe. But it was what he was used to, especially with new people. Though, something about him seemed different. Maybe it was just because of the way Andrew just seemed so–

"Hey."

Lucas looked up, pulled from his train of thought. He hadn't realized Andrew had moved his seat closer. Nor had he realized that he wanted to speak to him.

"Uhm- hey." Lucas's cheeks dusted a soft purple as he spoke, embarrassment filling him.

"Can I buy you a drink?" Andrew's words were slurred at the edges, but it was easy enough to tell what he meant.

Lucas shook his head, resting his cheek in his hand.

"I have things to do tonight," he said, stifling a little yawn. "And shouldn't you as well? I mean, you must have someone or something to go home to.. you have kids and a wife, don't you?"

Lucas noticed the way Andrew gritted his teeth at /wife/, and it only made him more curious.

"Kids," Andrew took another sip of his drink. "No wife. Had one, once. But, it was never really… official."

Lucas nodded. "Is she the reason why you're here?"

Andrew scoffed, twirling the now empty bottle in his hands. "Not the only reason," Lucas raised a brow, and it only seemed to cause Andrew to continue. "I have to attend court soon. And I don't have a lawyer."

"What a shame..." Lucas mumbled. "I've been told I have a way with words, perhaps I could be a lawyer."

"You?" Andrew cocked his head with a teasing grin. "You don't even know what I'm in for."

Lucas shrugged. "You can tell me when you're sober. Then we can decide prices, times…"

"You seem very quick witted."

"Alas, I admit it."

"I bet you'll be quite the lawyer."

"So that's a yes?"

Andrew nodded, waving his hand to order another drink.

"And really, you should drink with me. What more could you have to do?"

Lucas gave a little sigh, watching Andrew take a deep swig of the fresh bottle. "The night is young. Many things can be done in the calm light of the moon."

The only response he was given was an eye roll. He let his mind wander for just a few moments more, before deciding. He looked up at Andrew, and snatched his drink from his loose grip. He took a quick gulp, a little shiver going down his spine at the warmth that spread through him as the alcohol slipped down his throat.

He rested the bottle back on the counter when he was finished, a satisfied smile on his lips. Andrew looked slightly stunned, but snapped out of it in seconds. Lucas was given another eye roll as he took the bottle back.

"So?" Andrew questioned.

Just as Lucas was about to answer, a soft voice was heard from the doorway of the small bar.

"Papa?"

#cozysmp #gay people #holy shit #first writing on tumblr???!!!!#might go to ao3 next #i just need to wait for my invite #why do ao3 invites take so long #hi tumblr #co!lucas #co!andrew #gay #lgbtq+#Minecraft #cosmp

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onlyprincey · 10 months

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Lost Sunshine: Fragments of Loss

warnings: mourning, character death, hurt no comfort (yet)

mentions: @auggient

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August was dead.

It was a beautiful day when the news was broken to him.

A person approached Princey with a hesitant expression, their eyes filled with sorrow and sympathy. They opened their mouth to speak, their voice trembling slightly as they broke the news.

"I'm sorry...found... Auggie... gone.."

Truthfully, most of their words didn't register in the 19 year old's head, only a select few words actually processed, and as the implications laid out, the words hung in the air, heavy and unbearable, piercing through Princey's heart like a thousand sharp needles.

Princey's blank stare met the gaze of the messenger, his mind struggling to process the devastating blow. For a prolonged moment, silence hung between them, the weight of the truth threatening to crush Princey's spirit. The other person shifted uncomfortably under the weight of his unreadable eyes, the pain and disbelief reflected in their own expression.

Suddenly, a grateful smile tugged at Princey's lips, his façade of composure barely holding together. "I see, thank you for letting me know." His voice betraying none of the anguish that clawed at his heart.

As he stood by his yard, the world seemed different somehow. The sun still shone brightly, casting its warm glow over the familiar surroundings. The birds chirped a beautiful melody from somewhere in the tree with the swing he had built for his family.

How could everything appear so normal when his world had shattered into a million irreparable pieces?

He quickly turned around, his steps growing heavier. Turning away from the sympathetic gaze, Princey retreated further into the sanctuary of his home. The once welcoming abode now felt cold and desolate, echoing the hollowness that had consumed him. He closed the door behind him, shutting out the world, yet unable to escape the relentless grip of reality.

Denial settled within Princey like a familiar companion, wrapping him in its deceptive embrace. He couldn't bring himself to accept the reality of August's absence. It felt impossible, inconceivable.

August was his little brother, his baby bird, his sunshine, his fledgling.

They were supposed to be together, sticking by each other's side like they always had ever since they were kids. This couldn't be the end. It just couldn't.

August was actually dead, it had turned out. The bird hybrid didn't want to believe it, but the enderian hybrid hadn’t come around yet, hadn’t left his basement, hadn’t come banging on Princey's trapdoor in the middle of the night demanding entertainment and clinging to him.

Days turned into weeks, and Princey found solace in the numbness that denial provided. He busied himself with trivial tasks, the mundane routines of his daily life. He collected more resources, ventured out almost daily to the most daunting places to get the things he didn't truly need, and came back to hand out his findings to his family members.

But behind his facade of composure, a storm brewed, threatening to engulf him in its relentless fury.

He avoided the spaces they once shared, the memories too painful to confront. The swing in the tree stood abandoned, a haunting reminder of their laughter and carefree moments. Princey couldn't bear to look at it, the weight of guilt and regret crushing his spirit.

The nights were the worst. Alone in his bed, Princey's mind would wander to memories of August. He would recall their adventures, their secret jokes, and their dreams for the future. The tears that had been held back during the day would spill forth, silently staining his pillow as he clutched onto the fragments of a life that was no more.

But even in his grief, Princey couldn't escape the tendrils of guilt that wound their way around his shattered heart. The last time the brothers ever truly had a conversation was before his son's wedding. They had shared a heartfelt moment, the younger confessing to him about the fear of going to sleep due to the transportation to another place, and the older promising to protect him.

And then he blew everything up. He doesn't remember what happened. He just remembers staring into August's eyes with a chuckle as he plays the music, before noticing a look of fear, panic and betrayal on his face as he flew back with Clover and Sap.

Ever since that day, their relationship had been strained. They couldn't look each other in the eyes, and often they'd find themselves in awkward silenced whenever they encountered one another, which led to the two eventually just avoiding seeing each other altogether to avoid the obvious need for communication about what had happened.

Princey had planned to apologize, to sit down and have a proper talk with him. He had everything prepared, planned everything out perfectly to ensure he was ready for every possible outcome.

Nothing would've prepared him for the death of his younger brother.

He questioned himself now endlessly, tormented by 'what ifs' and 'what could have beens". Had he done enough? Could he have protected August? The weight of responsibility bore down on him, threatening to break him completely.

As the weeks turned into a month, the denial slowly began to crack. Reality seeped through the fissures, piercing Princey's fragile armor. He couldn't deny the truth any longer.

His sunshine was gone, and no amount of denial could change that.

And so, one lonely evening, Princey found himself standing in the home they had shared. The walls whispered their shared memories, the shelves lined with tokens of their bond. He reached out to touch a photograph, his trembling fingers tracing the contours of August's smiling face.

A wave of sorrow crashed over Princey, his denial crumbling like sand through his fingertips. The dam he had erected to hold back his grief burst open, and he broke. His cries echoed through the empty room, his anguish reverberating off the walls. He wept for the loss, for the void that could never be filled, apologies falling from his lips in a desperate flow of heartbreak.

"I'm sorry..

I'm sorry..

I'm sorry sunshine, please,

please come back,

I'm sorry.."

In that moment, Princey allowed himself to feel the depth of his love and the weight of his loss. The denial had served its purpose, shielding him momentarily from the unbearable pain. But now, as the truth consumed him, he surrendered to the devastation, knowing that only through acceptance could he begin to heal.

And so, Princey wept, his tears mingling with the memories that lingered in every corner of his home. The world outside continued to move forward, oblivious to the torment that consumed Princey's soul. Time marched on, but for him, it stood still, frozen in the moment of August's departure.

Princey's grief became a silent companion, never leaving his side. The weight of guilt pressed upon him like a boulder, eroding his spirit with each passing day. He tormented himself with relentless questions, replaying every interaction, every word spoken, searching for the signs he had missed. If only he had been more attentive, more present, more upfront, braver, perhaps he could have protected August from the cruel hands of fate.

The once vibrant halls of his home echoed with emptiness. The swing in the tree hung still, a poignant reminder of the laughter that would never grace its seat again. Princey's footsteps grew heavier, each one a reminder of the absence that haunted him. Every corner held memories that simultaneously brought comfort and anguish, amplifying the ache in his heart.

Alone in his home, Princey retreated into the depths of his pain. The world outside continued to move, but his world had shattered into a million fragmented pieces. Friends and loved ones offered their condolences, their well-intentioned words falling on ears that heard but couldn't truly listen.

How could they understand the magnitude of his loss, the guilt that gnawed at his conscience?

In the solitude of his grief, Princey allowed himself to remember. He delved into the treasure trove of memories he had shared with August. The playful moments, the dreams they had woven together, the unconditional brotherly love that had bound them. Each memory felt like a bittersweet embrace, offering solace and breaking his heart all at once.

The realization of August's absence settled into Princey's bones like an icy chill. The denial that had provided fleeting respite now betrayed him, exposing him to the full force of his grief. It was in this vulnerable state, in the depths of his anguish, that Princey understood the fragility of life, the transient nature of joy. He yearned for one more chance, one more moment to hold August close, to flick his forehead every time it poked him, to grin widely with warmth at the exasperation of his younger brother towards his jokes, to sing him to sleep with his guitar, to tell him how deeply he was loved.

And so, Princey sat amidst the remnants of their shared life, the remnants of his shattered heart. With each passing day, the cracks in his façade grew wider, the weight of his grief threatening to consume him. He clung to the fragments of hope, seeking solace in the memories that remained.

#cosmp #cozysmp #i finally wrote it #angst #hurt no comfort #sad i know #im heartbroken #im actually in tears #hope ur ok #heartbreak #grief/mourning

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zone-willbur · 10 months

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-For when you must be alone-

a co!smp writing

mentions: @auggient

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wilbur never wanted kids. he was never fit for the role. it wasn’t like he hated kids, no, he just didn’t know what he was doing. and he didn’t have any good role models either, no good parental figures he could aspire to be like. so yeah, he was okay with this, he didn’t need to have kids.

that was fine, until it wasn’t.

everything changed when he met varian. the two had become an unlikely pair after wilbur stumbled onto a destroyed cherry blossom village, vacant except for one. a half demon kid, no older than 12. wilbur couldn’t take him in. he couldn’t help the kid, right? he couldn’t live with him dying out there on his conscience, because it was obvious the kid wouldn’t be able to survive alone. and if he did he would only live through hardships, something wilbur knew too well.

after that thought, he knew he couldn’t leave this kid alone in a village to rot away. so he helped bring him to his home, unintimidated by what the demon could do, worry for himself and his safety the last thing on his mind. he took him in, gave him food, which he quickly picked up on the fact that the kid was definitely a picky eater, and made a makeshift bed for the kid to sleep on. he could tell the kid didn’t want to stay, that he was scared, but not of wilbur, no, he was scared of what he would do to wilbur. all he could do was reassure the kid, promising that he wanted him to stay with him.

wilbur didn’t understand why he felt a rush of relief when he woke up and he was still there, but he knew it happened. that was the beginning of it all.

after that, mornings staying in bed until the ungodly hours of the day turned into making breakfast while the sun rose. afternoons of pacing the house turned into teaching boat and reading lessons, the latter of which came as a shock to wilbur when he learned that the kid did in fact, not know how to read. nights of drinking turned into nights of making popcorn while vari scanned through wilbur’s movie collection, definitively calling him out on his weird obscure movie collection.

it was nice. wilbur never wanted to be a dad, but having this kid around made him feel, almost complete.

when the kid started calling him papa, that was a whole other set of emotions he had to work through. he never told the kid he was his dad, but never said he wouldn’t be either. and he couldn’t lie when he could feel a clear warmth grow in his chest every time the kid smiled up at him, telling his papa about how much he is learning while reading through the books wilbur kept.

he loved being his dad. he enjoyed spending time with vari, and taking care of him was really just a benefit. over the next three years wilbur adapted to the “papa” role. he was content and happy for one of the first times in his life.

——

wilbur doesn’t know why he woke up. it was late, so late that nothing would be awake, besides mobs. thankfully he’s lit up his land with torches to keep them safe from everything. but he can’t help the clawing feeling in his chest. he gets up, immediately rushing to his son, son? his sons room. as soon as he climbs up to his bed a wave of shock and fear washes over him, his boy is gone.

the windows open. his bed is empty. some of his stuff is gone, but some of it…it’s still here?

wilbur waits, assuming his son must’ve needed to get something, as absurd as it sounded, he couldn’t bear to think of any other explanation.

he wouldn’t just leave.

wilbur waits more, assuming his son might’ve gotten lost on his way back home? so what if it’s been two days? that must be it.

he wouldn’t just leave, right?

wilbur builds a map room. he’s sure he can find his son, must’ve just lost his compass and couldn’t find the house. even if it’s been a week.

he couldn’t just leave.

he builds an alchemy room for his son. he remembers vari mentioning to him that he was interested in alchemy. surely this will bring him home. he will come back. two weeks isn’t that long.

he couldn’t just leave, right?

he waits. but nobody comes.

he stops sleeping, he stops eating, he can’t stop pacing. why did he leave? was he a bad father? did he upset him? he finally thought they had been comfortable together, wilbur finally felt happy. he swore vari finally felt safe with him. what did he do wrong? why did he leave?

did wilbur not deserve him? he didn’t think he did, but he hoped that maybe he would finally be allowed to be happy.

he’s a failure, he must be. he failed to keep this kid around just like he failed in getting his “mom” to stay.

maybe wilbur never deserved to be happy.

#cozysmp #cosmp

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squoople · 10 months

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cosmp random bullshit coz i am bored of not doing anything canonically

squoop was having a "spring cleaning" moment, which basically means for the first time in months she remembered that she actually has to be a functional adult and tidy her house. scrubbing her wood floors on her hands and knees like she was trying to turn it into diamond. once she had finished dusting the kitchen, and organising her chests, she moved onto lucas' room.

now, going and cleaning her teenage sons room while he wasnt there did feel a little intrusive, but the layer of dust on the shelves was borderline criminal. sighing and fluttering haphazardly onto the shelving, she covered her mouth as plumes of thick dust were disturbed by her feather-duster. coughing slightly, she scanned the room for more things that needed some TLC.

heres a fun fact about Squooples son, Lucas. (this is relevant i promise) he loves to leave little notes on his walls, his thoughts, messages for squoop, happenings in his own little world. And squoop LOVES IT she finds it so adorable.

She ran her eyes around the signs, remembering most of them, frowning at some, smiling at others. But she noticed two newer, much less dust-coated signs.

"oh, mama, the boy i met at the bar... he was so..."

squoop raised an eyebrow. the bar..?? why the hell was lucas at the bar?? do people not enforce the law in this place? doesnt matter. she then brought her attention to the second one, next to his bed.

"He's the boy of my dreams, mama, I'm telling you."

her eyes widened. OHHH MYYY GOD MY BABY HAS A CRUSH!!!! or maybe a boyfriend.. lucas would tell me,, right? oh that doesnt matter!! oh mon dieu... she placed her hands to her chest pridefully, and beamed at nobody. she sighed and muttered to herself; "they grow up so fast" and dramatically pretended to wipe a tear from her eye.

she then completely forgot to continue to clean the house, and skipped proudly to tell oggy and marla the wonderful news.

hahahhaha gay ass (points at lucas)

mentioned: @f-lvke , @solivagents and @ogonbog

#cosmp #cozysmp #cozyblr #im mentally unwell #i got bored of no lore so heres very off topic gay shit

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gardenofclover · 9 months

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Everything was Fiction, Future, and Predictions.

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a co!smp writing

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she needed to get back. her mom, she saw her in the void. her mom had all the information she needed to help her finally remember everything and yet, as soon as clover went to get those answers, she was gone, awoken to soil around her, trapped in her own grave. not only that, clover had a second goal, another reason to go back, and that was her uncle. he was the only one who understood the nightmares, the only one who gave her comfort to being crazy like she assumed she was. but just like most things she loves, it will get ripped away from her one day. that day just came sooner for him. they didn’t want to go to bring him back, to force him to return home if he didn’t want to, but she needed to say goodbye. they needed him to know how much they loved him, how much he meant. clover couldn’t live with themself if he didn’t know, if he didn’t get a proper goodbye.

she had done everything. as dark as it was, she desperately tried to get back there. but no matter what she did, nothing worked. she couldn’t take herself back to the void. the only option she could see was to get help finishing the job.

confetti would never help them, never in a million years could confetti take their kids life, and wilbur, well he’s grown far too attached to the small one to help them with this messed up plan.

so here clover stands, outside of their nanas cave, sukeys home, signs clutched in their small hand. sukey was having a fairly good day, she had hung out with some of her grandkids, made a couple cake sales, and everything seemed fine. even if there was some inlklings of dread, she just brushed them off, it’s been such a good day, nothing could go wrong, right?

clover hesitantly knocks at the door, quickly getting ushered inside and engulfed in a large dragon hug, making her feel loved and strangely comforted, knowing how this was probably going to end.

“so why did you come out all the want to visit me little one, is your dad trailing behind? you and your sister are always giving your dads a run for their money, chasing you guys down.” the dragon chuckles as she stares lovingly down at the child. “actually, i’m here to ask you something..more important.” clover scribbles down.

the calm and happy look wipes from sukeys face when she realizes what clover is asking her to do. clover can see the emotions rapidly changing behind sukeys eyes as she tries to get clover to change their mind about going back, to not ask for her help specifically. but as clover explains how they have tried so many times to go back, the realization hits sukey. she either helps clover go back or…

they’re forced to go back painfully, all alone. similarly to how they went the first time. in some horrible situation where they spent most of it alone, at least getting to see her parents the first time. this time there would be nothing. sukey couldn’t do that to clover. her mind then immediately flips, trying to think of any piece of info or item that may help clover travel the void, and to keep her from being consumed by it.

clover listens, tries their best to grasp it as attentively as they can while sukey tells them the importance of what they do while in the void. the realization seeped in as sukey tied the crystal around her neck.

this was it. she was finally going to go back. finally get answers. getting to say goodbye. but that also meant leaving her friends. her family. her dad, he had already shown to not take her being gone well. she hates to worry him but she has to do this. her papa, they were shocked to learn just how upset he was about their death. she knew he cared, but she always worried he wouldn’t want her, since confetti was the one insistent on adopting her and she didn’t even meet wilbur till a few days after she settled in. but he came in and loved her just as much. and her brothers and sisters, all very special and dear to her heart, she hated to leave them all again. but this pit in her chest, these constant nightmares that have only ramped up since she died, now not even comforted by sleeping beside her dads, she needed it to stop. and this was the only way she knew how.

she feels the way sukey holds her close, relishes in the warmth while she can before has to go without contact, for however long it may be. when sukey asks her to turn around, so she didn’t have to see it, they knew it wasn’t just because of that, knowing that sukey couldn’t bear to stare them in the eyes while she took their life.

she knows not what will come after this, so she might as well try to get one comfort before she goes. her voice sounds unusual to her own ears, but she still forces herself to speak. “nana…will you sing to me? i want to hear you sing before i die.” they thought their request would fall on deaf ears, but when sukey began singing to them they couldn’t help but smile as tears ran down their face.

the sword was cold as it pierced through her chest. cold in a foreign way, but honestly she had never felt so hot. her entire body felt like it was burning alive, it seizing up as she felt the sword get pulled out of her. gentle arms catch her and hold her close as she bleeds out, reminding her of her papa holding her hand the first time.

It was hard to speak. she could taste the blood in her mouth and felt the weight of her body growing heavier, but she had to thank her. as her eyes went shallow and empty, she could her her grandmothers cries of apologies. she knew sukey wouldn’t be able to feel nothing with this, but she prays that she will be able to move on from it, for her sake.

the next time her eyes open, she sees a vast area of nothingness.

#cosmp #cozysmp

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cloudddooo · 10 months

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The Duet (Co!Wilbur)

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It had been so long since he had been in a stable place, most of his friendships cutting off over 10 years ago. He had traveled so long all alone until he had found someone who could stay with him, his young daughter, Tallulah. The time of their meeting was a long story and at that one for another time, but he had taken care of her for a few years at this point and had been the thing that kept him going when he didn’t feel like going anymore. They would travel together for a long time, though Wilbur made sure that every week at least, they would have their music practice together, whether it be at the best or worst time, it was most important.

Together they would play their favorite song, his daughter playing her flute and he would play his violin. He eventually decided that maybe they should take a break from their years of endless traveling, especially as that’s all he’s done his entire adult life. They could find a stable and safe home and area to be in. Eventually he found a cabin that was slightly far from civilization but not too far, it still had some buildings around it. It seemed like the perfect place for him and his daughter.

Once they finally got there they could move in, after those couple years for Tallulah and the decade and over for Wilbur, they were finally in one spot. After so long they were finally in a calm environment, where they could stay in one place for once. No matter if they were moving in, they were moving around the world, there was always time for them to play together, whether it be music or just in general, that was what he lived for.

He decided after so long of not being near a town, he could see what was going on, upon his arrival he noticed a festival and decided to head into it. He had stopped at a few games but decided to stay close to one that he very much enjoyed, a game of archery, which was one of the things he enjoyed doing from time to time. He was usually a fan of calm activities, like writing or painting, but he did very much enjoy archery.

He had been at the stand for a bit and he wanted to get one of the prizes, I mean it was simple but he wasn’t really trying at the time. He had too much on his mind to do with the moving and all of that type of stuff, also worried about his daughter at home, hoping she was settling in well to their new home. The thoughts running through his mind of all the times he and his daughter had played together, he usually wasn’t away from his daughter for more than a few hours, but he had been exploring about half the day.

“It’s okay, she’s strong.” He thought to himself. “Just focus the arrow and go through with it.”

He had pulled the bow’s string back, slowly aiming his arrow until-

“Hey, do you know how to do this game?” A man about his age had spoken, stepping onto the slight deck that was outside the game.

“Yeah, you just hit three targets with your arrows. Any certain prize you are going for?” He had replied in a slightly quiet tone to the man, releasing his first arrow and hitting a target right after finishing speaking.

“I see, I like the duck a lot!” The man had calmly replied. Maybe that made some sort of sense in Wilbur’s mind, considering the man had wings in a yellow tone. He didn’t want to look too much into it though. He just had to follow through with the arrows.

“Ah, okay, personally a fan of the polar bear myself.” Wilbur had replied, in a calm, general tone even though his mind was slightly racing, landing his second arrow into the target in sync with the man landing his first.

The man had landed his second arrow just after Wilbur had landed his last. Wilbur picked up the duck and handed it off to the stranger, he hadn’t talked to a lot of people often so he figured it would be a nice gesture for someone who decided to be so kind to him.

“Aw- Thank you-“ The man had replied in an equally as general tone as the atmosphere, though Wilbur knew he was genuinely thankful. The man had landed his last arrow.

“Then there’s something I should give you.” The man spoke again, calmly before reaching into the prize bin and grabbing the polar bear stuffed animal, then handing it to Wilbur who took it gently.

“I love it, thank you.” Wilbur calmly had replied, setting his bow back on the rack, close to the exact same time as the man.

“Awesome, I will see you around then.” The man said kindly, doing a small nod towards Wilbur.

“See you around then!” Wilbur had said, he enjoyed the interaction with the mysterious man and, well maybe it was a sign of some sorts. Maybe he picked the right town to stay in with his daughter.

The festival was fun, he’d stay around of course but he had to make sure to get home soon to see his daughter, he had to make sure to get home early, to get some rest at least, he couldn’t miss practice with his dear daughter.

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#cosmp #cozysmp #minecraft #smp

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musicnoteso7 · 10 months

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TW: Death, Loss of family, Blood / Gore, and General Angsty Topics “Baby mine, don't you cry” Small tears fell onto his brown leather jacket, coming from his baby. Why, out of everyone in this cruel world must his little girl be picked to leave? There were many that were deserving of this pain, but not his sweet child. Why couldn’t he be the one to go? She had so much left for her in this world not him. “Baby mine, dry your eyes” Tears could be felt in the corner of his eyes but he held them back. He would stay strong for his little dove. He would make sure her last moments were good ones. He had to. “Papa it hurts, it hurts so bad..” His sweet baby cried out to him clear fear in her tone. “Shh, it’s going to be alright pumpkin, just close your eyes and lay on me papa’s got you. I promise, papa’s not going anywhere.” Every plea in his body shouted to call out for help, but he had already wasted much of her time left doing that before. There was nothing else to do other than make her feel comfortable as life took its course. One arm held her close to his chest, and one arm brushed through her blood filled hair as he began to sing her favorite lullaby he would always sing to her when she was scared or heading to bed. Not once letting his breath hitch between a single note, the last time she heard her song would be perfect. “Rest your head close to my heart“ Soon enough his baby’s body went limp almost as if she had calmed down, and slowly her weight became a dead one. Sobs came out once she had fully passed as William held her dead body for hours until someone came to find him and every tear in his body possibly had been shed. “Never to part, baby of mine” ----~~~~---- The sounds of birds could be heard in the early morning. William rubbed his eyes drastically to awaken himself reaching out for his glasses and putting them on then squinting to look at the time. 8 am seemingly a perfect time for a man with no busyness. He got out of bed and walked down the quiet halls of his tiny cottage. So bare, so quiet. Every morning he woke up to hatred of his home, the longing for the sound of tiny footsteps running across his halls. A longing for the noise of kids playing outside in the garden with one of their new favorite games for that week. He missed it all so much. Sure the cottage was lovely, and it was lovely to live in but William was lonely. He ached for the past that had been long gone away. Now his only friends were the ones in his writings, and books scattered around his book shelves in a way he would call ‘neat’ as he knew where everything was. Even after all these years he still found himself absentmindedly making too much food in each meal, or calling out her name, or even humming her song to get himself to sleep. He missed that fulfillment of being a father, but not as much as he missed her. William hated the term lonely, it felt so small. If anything he would say he was empty, a shell of a man that he used to be. Completely empty.

#cosmp #cozysmp #angst #cowilliam #charachterintroduction #smp #minecraft #lore #idk how tags work

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