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mysticalsoot · 1 year

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too, more, and most

A/N: this was originally supposed to be a lil valentine's blurb but then it took a very dark turn so it won't be that unless you want it to be, and in that case then sure, this very dark fic can be a valentine's gift to you all (all 70 of you??? what the fuck??) anywho ty all for the love on my writing, can't begin to express how fucking cool that is and how thankful I am!!!

TW// very dark, death is alluded to until straight out said, sorta MCD but redeemed, lots of swearing, derealization, hallucinations, death ish. that's it I think?

Summary: Wilbur is a broken man with attachment issues, his problems only worsen after reader breaks up with him. he finds out his love isn't here anymore but finds himself discovering what true reality is his.

Pairings: cc!wilbur x reader

Pronouns: they/them and use of y/n and l/n

Words: 3,378 (forgot to add at first, sry)

masterlist

@lvrboysoot love u, elliot. sorry for the pain I'm gonna inflict upon you with this</3

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Wilbur was picky with who he said I love you to. His family was one thing, parents, brothers—those were easy. When it came to others, friends, romantic partners—those were more difficult, more calculated when he eventually admitted it.

But once he did, he never stopped saying it. And he was stubborn, fully set that he loved you more than anything than anyone ever loved anyone else.

He would say it at least once an hour, and if he was away he'd text the words to you, followed by some stupid mushy gif. He'd write love letters readmitting his feelings for you, attaching a little wild flower he found somewhere in the garden. He'd leave it on your side of the bed and sneak away back into his office. He sat in his desk chair and pretend to work as he listened for you to open the front door. He'd wait there, patiently dilly-dallying whilst he waited for your arms to wrap around him and kiss the top of his head.

He'd follow it by saying; "I love you, darling." His hands resting on your arms that snuck around his shoulders, your chin now on the top of his head.

"I love you too," Is what you would reply with, he'd chuckle and press a kiss to your arm.

"I love you more." Wilbur wasn't one to back down on this exchange, he was sure his love for you outweighed any amount of love for anyone or anything else.

Whoever ended the exchange would say I love you most.

It always mostly worked to end the exchange. Sometimes it just wasn't enough and strings of I love you's were exchanged. The word most wasn't the end all be all, unfortunately.

Or was that even...real?

—★—

The ceiling was far from interesting, but staring at it was better than falling asleep in Wilbur's mind. The other side of the bed was cold, and the lack of warmth and a person beside him, infected his bones with the same bone-chilling temperature the sheets beside him had.

He'd reach his hand over every once and a while, subconscious habits taking over his actions, the exhaustion blurring his mind's ability to keep control.

He forgot how he loathed being alone. And he regretted not saying those words sooner. You would still be here next to him, your hand on the back of his neck, your own head nuzzled into his chest and his arm holding you close to his body, the two of you now one.

Wilbur should have said I love you a long time ago. Sleeping wouldn't be a dreaded activity and maybe the bags under his eyes wouldn't be so dark they look like black eyes anymore. He'd have a reason to move forward.

His phone had been shut off by him for a few weeks, and the bills still went through but he needed to ignore all the pleas and notifications from friends and family.

No, James, Wilbur does not want to go out drinking and talk about it. He'd much rather have anything else.

And no, Tommy, Wilbur didn't want to join your next vlog at the beach. Do you want him to break down?

Jack asked to come over and play some Mario Kart with him to take his mind off things. They all had valid concerns and they were only doing their best but he didn't want to do anything.

Not when he could have prevented the situation he's in, he's in a void, and he has no purpose as far as he's concerned.

Ash was the most gentle of them all, he asked if Wilbur was okay a few times, always following it up with "you don't have to talk about it, just know that I'm here". He was kind, quiet, and gentle. Wilbur had genuinely contemplated answering his friend, spilling his guts on how it was his fault and that there wasn't anything he could do that would mend it, everything was gone and it was his fault. But he didn’t he kept his thoughts and feelings to himself.

He kept the too, more, and most to himself. He couldn’t tell you, so why tell anyone? It was best held close to his heart like an unforgiving secret, one that if spilled would put a ripple in space and time. So it was a secret forever held behind the bars of heartbreak.

He tried peeling himself out of bed, wiping his face of old dried tears--he couldn't cry anymore so the saltwater stains on his cheeks were days old, or maybe weeks, Wilbur couldn't tell. It took him a few minutes to coax his aching and tired body to sit up at the least--and even more time to convince himself to turn his phone back on. Maybe he would regret doing so, maybe he wouldn’t but the only way to know was to just..do it. So he did, the screen on his phone lit up, the classic white apple illuminating his face as he waited there, his eyes glued to the screen as it booted up. A few seconds and five password attempts later, his phone was unlocked and in the sms app.

He gravitated towards the last messages with you, it didn't take much convincing for him to open it and when he did, it felt like a train hit him. All of the emotions—the regret, the pain—came flooding back to him.

The last message he ever got from you was "I love you". He mentally kicked himself for never saying it and he threw his phone down on his bed, regret bubbling up his throat and he pulled on his hair. Dry, pained sobs escape his chest and he's shaking. This is so stupid. I'm so stupid. His thoughts ran wild, taunting him, stabbing him. Looking him in the face and telling him how this is all his fault. It's all his fault. It has to be all his fault.

He begins shaking, pulling his legs up to his chest, and wraps his arms around his knees, shoving his face between them. No tears fall, and the sobs lessen, although no less painful than before. He tries to take deep breaths, pushing the image of your last message to him that's burned into his vision, further and further from his consciousness. If his brain can push every other bad memory away, why won't it hide this one? God, he's so stupid—what person forces themselves to face the one thing that tore them apart? Wilbur would be it. He is the one to do that and he regrets it.

His breathing slows to a steady pace, and he drops his hands from his hair. He wants to curl up inside himself and just shrivel up until he's nothing but particles in the air. And he wants to, he really wants to. But he promised himself he would go out today and do something helpful for himself. Maybe some fresh air would help.

Or maybe it'll just remind him of you

Either way, he needed out. His bed was beginning to feel claustrophobic and the walls of his room felt like they were closing in on him. Not to mention he hasn't showered in at least a week, and the last time he did shower, James had forced him and stood outside the bathroom door the entire way because he knew Wilbur would try and trick him.

He lifted his blankets and tossed them to the side, throwing his legs over the side of his bed and pushing himself up to stand. His legs wobbled for a moment in a lack of use and then he mindlessly brought himself to his dresser, grabbing a sweater and some jeans, and whatever else he needed before his legs brought him to the bathroom and he turned on the shower.

The water burned his skin but was somehow comforting in the way he turned red as the water hit him. It burned, but it was nice. It was an unfortunate reminder he was alive, and this was real. But perhaps, a cold shower would be even worse, so the reminder of his reality through burning hot water droplets on his skin was a much better alternative than cold ice water douching him in the painful realization of never being able to get you back.

That was worse than anything. That you were forever to never be his again.

It wasn't much longer that he stood under the hot water, and then he soon stepped out, hurriedly wrapping himself in a towel to avoid the chilling cold you always feel after a boiling shower. He doesn't bother to change whilst in the bathroom, but instead snatches his clothes from the cluttered sink counter and pulls open the door, bringing himself back to the warmth of his room while he slips on his clothes, his sweater being last after a T-Shirt underneath.

He knew that if he made any more contemplation over whether he should go outside or not, he'd never make it past his bedroom door. So he was quick in grabbing his keys and wallet before slipping out of his bedroom door followed by his apartment door. He quickly locked the door until it clicked and hurried down the stairs. The faster he got downstairs, the less time he had to rethink his decisions.

He's quick to push open the clear entrance door to his apartment building, passing by some of his neighbors he's never met and then he's out of the stuffy building. He's hit with a wave of wind, hitting the tip of his nose, and the cool scent warming him in calm comfort. It's nice to feel comfort again, it's so, so nice.

He stands there for a moment, taking in the cool, fresh air. To passersby, he looks like an idiot who's most likely high—but in reality, he's a broken man who hasn't left his house in weeks and feels he no longer has a purpose. Neither version is a good one, but what he really is, is much better than the alternative.

He pauses for a moment, taking in what's around him. Wilbur didn't think about what he was going to do past walking outside, so now he's stuck. Maybe he could go right back inside or maybe he—

There's a shadow of a person on the beach, or maybe it just looks like a shadow—but something about it draws him to it. Where the shadow seems to pace on the beach—the person-shaped shadow—isn't far from where he stands in front of his apartment building. He's curious, and the curiosity gets to him and he's hurriedly walking over to the stairs that lead down to the beach. He doesn't waste any time finding that damned shadow, he doesn't even know why he wants to know what it is, so badly. But he does, he really does and his hurried walking turns to jogging until he's full-out sprinting on the pebble beach, the saltwater-twisted air hitting his nose sharply.

The shadow becomes more and more of a human shape the closer he gets to it. And then he's a foot away. And the shadow turns around to face him. And it isn't a shadow anymore. It's a person. It's a fucking person. But it isn't just any person, no, no—it's you.

It's you. It's you. It's you. Oh god, it's you.

But you don't look…alive. You look dead, gone. You're practically transparent and he wonders if this is what it was like for people to see Ghostbur if the DreamSMP was real. Dear god, you're dead. Or are you? Maybe he's just hallucinating, maybe he spent too long in his flat and now his mind doesn't know what reality is and so it's tricking itself into believing you're here. But as a shadow.

He wants to run so badly but something keeps him angered onto the pebble-covered beach. Why can’t he stop looking at you? And why in all things good can he not move?

“Y/N,” It’s the only thing he utters, and it's broken and quiet in the way he says it.

You simply stare at him, his expression cracking and shattering in the same way his heart does all over again, and then you’re gone again. You simply poof into thin air.

He takes hours before he can drag himself back to his flat, and he still hasn’t figured out if what he saw was real or not--but he’d rather not dwell on that for now. He just needs to get back home, he didn't even bring his phone with him, who knows how many people have tried contacting him whilst he was on his..walk. You could call it a walk, that’s for sure.

The door is opened haphazardly, and he nearly bangs his head against the side of it, not noticing his surroundings. He takes the stairs, his steps slow and by no means careful, and then hes on his floor, dragging himself to his flat. He unlocks the door until it clicks and then beelines for his room and snatches his phone off his bed.

He has a few dozen messages from friends, some from his parents and brothers--but he ignores them all and goes straight to safari;

Y/N L/N obituary

He presses the search button and turns his phone screen away from himself, face down in his lap. Wilbur has been offline for weeks--anything could’ve happened--and who would tell him anyways? Plus, who’s to say what felt like weeks to him, hasn't been months?

A few moments later and with some reassurance from himself, he turns the screen back to face him and his eyes glance to the first result.

Y/N dead at 26, drowned at brighton beach

It’s dated four months ago.

But they broke up with him three weeks ago? You were alive mere weeks ago! How did this--how did this happen?

It was your ghost he saw, that much he knows.

You died.

God…

You’re dead.

Wilbur finds tears sliding down his cheeks, droplets plopping onto his phone screen and he pulls the sleeve of his sweater over his hand to wipe away the salty liquid from his face and he sniffles.

How didn’t he know? Why didn’t anyone tell him?

He should go back to the beach.

The beach sounds great…maybe he’ll find you again, maybe he can ask questions and get answers for all of the wonders wandering his mind.

That’s what he should do.

And so he does, but this time he takes a blanket and his phone with him.

It’s the same path as before but now he knows where he’s going when he steps outside and its dark now. The biting cold wind of dusk hits his face in a harsh sharpness, but he moves on and continues walking, blanket rested over his arm and head held up as he looks around for you.

He spots you on an old pier and is quick to follow you, walking up the crickety stairs, being slow and careful with his steps, cautious to not spook the ghost of you again. He has questions that need answers, and scaring you away does him no good.

He keeps walking to the edge of the pier, there aren’t any railings, and its entirely open. He stops when hes one to two feet away from you and he drops the blanket on the planks of wood below. He looks up from the ground, eyes meeting your shadowy figure slowly revealing details about you, although still transparent, you aren’t just a shadowy figure.

“Hello, love,” Wilbur is sure to put on a soft smile when he speaks, and you shake your head at him, looking down.

You look up, head tilting and bottom lip poking out as a taunt, “I’m not your love,”

“I--I know you’re dead but--”

“No,” is all you say, and then you’re gone again.

Wilbur wants to break down again, decompose, and scream and sob and cry. But instead, he just stands there in cowardice. He doesn’t move, he simply stands in silence. He finds himself walking towards the edge of the pier and then he sits down, legs dangling over the water.

He wonders what would---

No, Wilbur, no.

He recoils. Pulls his legs up. Backs away from the edge. He feels someone push him. He pushes back and tries to find the source of said force--it’s just him up here. But he keeps pushing against the force trying to knock him off and he’s doing a great job of it--until he doesn’t and then he’s plummeting down and he twists in the air as he falls and something in his mind speaks.

“Your end is the same as your love’s”

And then it's all black.

The next thing he knows he’s choking up water or what feels like choking up water. But he doesn’t feel like he’s in water and-- But hes awake? Alive? It feels dry around him but he still can’t see.

He tries crying out, his eyes practically glued shut and he can’t force them open.

He jolts up and his eyes shoot open, his eyes frantically search the room, it's dark and he can barely see anything and then he sees an outline of a person; you. But you’re dead! And he’s dead!

Or is he, or are you? He doesn’t know, he doesn’t know anything anymore.

The shadow-like figure--you, kneel down in front of him, hands on his shoulders and your features come into view; eyebrows knitted in concern, eyes wide with fear, and mouth agape with worry.

“Love,” You inch closer to him and he backs away in fear, breathing rapid and labored, “Are you okay?” You pull your hands away in response to his skittishness.

He shakes his head, “You’re supposed to be dead,” His voice is quiet and it cracks when he speaks like he hasn’t spoken in months.

“What?”

He just shakes his head and pulls his legs up to his chest, hiding the lower half of his face between his knees, eyes the only thing in vision and his gaze is locked on you--completely unwavering.

“I’m not going to hurt you, my darling,” You put your hand out as an offering and he takes it into consideration, eyeing it like it has the chance to burn him.

“You won’t leave?” Wilbur’s eyes glance to yours for a moment before refocusing back onto your offered hand.

You shake your head, a soft smile donning your lips, “Never,”

He utters a small ‘ok’ and takes your hand and a few moments later he catapults himself into your arms. Heavy sobs ricocheted out of his chest. Your arms wrap tightly around him, and his own arms do the same for you. The two of you sit there in silence, the only noises are of the fan set up in your room or the sound of his cries as you hold him.

“I love you,” His voice is soft, small but he means it. He means it so much more than you could know.

“I love you too, bur,” You place a kiss on his temple, your hand reaching to tangle with his hair, “so, so much,”

He hums in response and another silence blankets the two of you in comfortable warmth, and then you’re the one to break it this time;

“What happened?”

He shrugs, “So much,”

You rest your chin atop his head, one hand playing with his hair and the other rubbing his back, “Wanna talk about it?”

He shakes his head, “No,” He pauses, gears turning in his head as he mulls over what to say next, “I love you more, by the way,”

A small, joyous laugh escapes your throat, “And I love you most.”

The two of you spend the rest of the evening like that, in each other's arms, muttering reassurances of your love for the other--and eventually, he tells you of all he’s experienced. And you feel horrible, your heart aches for him but you’re happy he’s in your arms now.

And he smiles.

He knows you’re not going anywhere and he knows you love him too, more, and most.

#wilbur soot #cc!wilbur #cc!wilbur x reader #dsmp wilbur #wilbur #wilbur soot x reader #wilbur soot x gn!reader #wilbur x you #wilbur is a sad lil wet cat #im so sorry for this #i am too broke to pay for anyones therapy after this sorry #wilbur soot fluff #wilbur soot angst #wilbur soot hurt/comfort #sorry man #implied sbi #sbi #sorta

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py-dreamer · 1 year

Text

SBI & RodentHybrid!Reader

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GN!Reader, (this is my first time doing something like this-)

Rats, mice and most rodents alike are under-appreciated in my opinion and I had some SBI brainrot I could not stop.

How did they find you?

Philza had just adopted his 3 chaos sons and was not expecting to have anymore children.

Tommy was 3, Wilbur and Techno were both 10

however, one day he heard tiny squeaks during a trek in the forest.

he thought it was just a regular mouse but it was too loud to be one so he followed the source and peered in the bushes and in it was lil' ol' you

you couldn't have been more than a year old by the looks of it and you were absolutely tiny! you could fit in the palm of his hand

you were also freezing cold and there were no adults around so... guess Phil's gonna adopt another child then!

Your rat features:

I put down rodent hybrid cause' I couldn't make up my mind if you were going to be a mouse or a rat (there's a difference!) so neither can your family!

You have the cartoonishly big mouse ears (think Mickey Mouse) and also a long thin and scaly tail

You also have delicate whiskers and a itty bitty nose that has a surprisingly good sense of smell

There are small patches around your body hear and there

TOE BEANS! TOE BEANS! TOE BEANS!

Also, smol. Extremely small. You are by far the shortest in the family. Mice are really small so I think you'd grow to 1ft 6 at most

Rats have strong teeth so you also have a set of really strong buck teeth

Since Techno once talked with a piglin, and Phil's chat are literally crows, you can talk to other rodents

"I'm not like other people! I'm 1ft 6, I have the best sense of smell, I can talk to animals and I have a tail cause I'm a foocking rat baby"

Life with the SBI

it was rather difficult to adjust to the new family member because of the drastic height differences but nothing they couldn't handle

All the seats, tables ect have a little ladder carved in or have a step-ladder attached so you could climb up

Stairs and doors. They were going to be a problem. So Dadza made like a little elevator out of string, small planks of wood and pulleys so you can get up and down the floors. Each door in the house also had a small doggy door on it so you could easily enter...though one time a stray cat had gotten in and chased you around the house so the main door and the door to the backyard had to have little locks installed on the little doors too.

Once you got a bit older, Dadza realized it would've been a very tiring life for you to have to climb up every seat and every table and every shelf you want to use so he made a little hole in the wall under a table and built tiny furniture perfect size for you and helped you decorate your room

Any soft fabric in the house was a perfect napping spot for you. your family would often find you nesting in hoodies, cushions, jackets, cloaks, blankets ect. (Although once Wilbur almost sat on you when you got a little too comfortable and fell asleep on the couch)

I'd like to think whenever you were mad at one of your brothers, you'd steal their stuff (that you can carry ie Tommy's disc, Wilbur's beanie, Techno's gold) and hide it in your room or a small crevice that only you can fit in and they'd be to big to fit in and reach their stuff.

You would also take advantage of your size and hide in places impossible for your family to hide in but not for you! You were always the hide and seek champion and could evesdrop on your brothers from inside the walls or inside a chest.

Midnight snacks. Just all the snacks. Rats can fit through any space they can get their heads into and some can chew through metal so there was nothing stopping your hungry tummy. Phil was even considering enchanting the pantry to prevent you from theiving all the snacks (you'd share with your brothers though, Phil was just miffed you ate all the snacks before dinner and could get ill)

When you guys were going out and you couldn't keep up, you'd just ride in one of their bags. You were extremely light and it was hard to keep up with their long legs so this was a perfect solution (you 100% fell asleep in a bag once and the family almost flipped the house upside down looking for you)

Your relationship with Dadza

We already mentioned him earlier but he loves you very much

Phil was a lot more nervous to take care of you cause he'd never raised a child this small before

He was very hesitant to let your brothers hold you when you were a baby because you were just so small and fragile-

When you were little and went out with him, you always had to be on him or holding his hand. Sitting on his hat, his shoulder, riding in his bag, him carrying you, he didn't mind but you couldn't be let out of sight especially in large crowds or tall grass.

He always had at least one of his crows keep an eye on you when you went outside to play just in case anything goes wrong

He still worries about you a lot but knows that at least you can defend yourself now.

Your relationship with Wilbur

he was your big brother and you both love each other a lot

it took some time getting used to you but the moment he saw such a tiny baby, he just went 'SMOL CHILD I WILL PROTECT YOU'

in the early days, when Philza couldn't take care of you, he'd hand you to Wilbur who'd spend time with you and Tommy. Be it going to town, making a new song, going to meet Sally, he was mostly glad to bring his little siblings along

While he cared for you a lot, he still played tricks on you sometimes like when he told you that birds eat mice and you just became terrified of Phil and his crows for a good week XD

He was much more relaxed when it came to your safety (not that he'd let you go into the woods alone, like just be less protective than dadza) though he would just be wary when you guys are with a lot of people so he'd prefer it if you were riding on his beanie. He'd get weird stares but as long as you're safe, he didn't care

when composing songs and you're with him, he'd sing the lyrics and you'd sometimes squeak them back in your high-pitched voice and he would either laugh or die from cuteness...or both

rats also generally have better hearing than humans so when he was composing a song, he'd ask for your opinion to see if it was good or not

Your relationship with Techno

when you were first welcomed into the family, he didn't know what to do-

don't get me wrong he got the same 'PROTECT DA CHILD' feeling as Wilbur and even the voices told him to 'PROTEC SMOL THING' when he got them later on

it's just that you were so small that he was afraid he'd hurt you he was never as gentle as his twin or his dad and Wilbur seemed to like you so he figured he'd him take care of you like Tommy

though one day, you were out in the garden. Techno was training, Phil was in the house, Wilbur and Tommy were with friends. A stray zombie found its way to your home and it started to attack you.

you were too small to get away quick enough and tripped but just as the zombie was about to hurt you any more, Techno shot an arrow through that f*cker's head he then realized you were too weak to defend yourself so decided to train you to be stronger

Wilbur was unsure about letting you wield a sword but Techno insisted it was for the best. Eventually, Tommy bugged him enough to train him too.

it took a while but after enough time and hard work, you were able to wield a few light weight weapons and were able to hold your own at pvp by quickly darting and dodging around your opponent.

when you weren't training, Techno read you and Tommy greek mythology. Tommy would sit in his lap and you would rest on his head (if he felt like it, he'd let you two braid his hair)

like the rest of the SBI, he gave you a piece of golden jewelry, for you it was a small earing

Your relationship with Tommy

I'll be honest: Tommy didn't really like you at first

He was glad to not be the youngest but he didn't realize that he'd get less attention due to you being a baby

they still loved him of course, but Tommy couldn't help but feel jealous when Dadza helped you make your own room or when Wilbur took you on their trips to town or when you'd always be carried by Wil or dad or when Techno started training you before him ect

he'd always try to ignore you or glare angrily and naturally, you reciprocated the behaviour and thus you two always had a sort of rivalry

he'd call you names, yank your ears, tail or whiskers and in turn, you'd call him names, steal his stuff and sometimes bit him if he pulled too hard

But then, one day:

You were 10 and sitting by yourself on the swings in the park. Barely anyone else was there and you were doing your own thing. It was one of the rare opportunities when you could be alone. I mean, you did love your family and all but it was nice to have some alone time too. You were minding your own business when suddenly:

"Hey are you a doll?"

A little kid had just picked you up by your waist and you were frankly very startled. You started wiggling, trying to get out of the kid's grasp but it was too tight.

"You're a very weird doll"

The kid held you tighter and you squealed out for help.

"I'm not a doll! Let me go!!"

The child gasps "A talking doll! Mama, mama! Look, a talking doll! Can I keep it please?" they called their mother over

A woman strides over and looked down while you were trying to get out of there. She gasps in horror and shrieks

"A RAT! A RAT! THROW IT AWAY AT ONCE BILLY! IT HAS THE PLAGUE! GET IT AWAY!!"

She then snatched you out of her child's sticky hands and threw you at full force into the mud.

"GET BACK YOU VERMIN! GET AWAY! RETURN TO THE MURKY SWAMP WHERE YOU CAME FROM!" She screeched while you were trying to process what just happened and collect yourself.

All of a sudden, you heard a very angry yet familiar voice from the bushes

"OI! NO ONE GETS TO PUSH MY SIBLINGS INTO THE MUD BUT ME!!"

He then pounced and shoved the prick and her brat into the mud.

"AHHHH YOU INSOLENT BRAT! HOW DARE YOU!"

Without warning, she grabbed Tommy and tried to trip him over him but before she could, you sneaked up behind her and bit down hard on one of her legs. Tommy then grabbed you and booked it out of there with the screeches of the witch behind you.

Once you two made it back home, you started to clean yourself up when Tommy handed a towel to you. He said nothing and looked away but the gesture was all it needed. The both of you were silent but a mutual care about each other started to grow that day.

it took a while but you two soon became thick as thieves

he even introduced you to Tubbo later on!

You and Tubbo relate to each other on the fact that you were both often underestimated and your shorter heights compared to everyone else.

Life in the smp

you decided to follow Wilbur and Tommy when the left home and promised to write to your dad and older brother

by now, you were as tall as you could be and could defend yourself reasonably well

you, Tommy and Tubbo absolutely cause chaos together. I mean the rat, the racoon and the goat? Who makes better thieves than that?

You definetely participated in the disc wars, stealing Tommy's discs back from Dream whenever you could

During the L'Manberg era, you decided to join your brothers' country and became good friends with the rest of the L'Manberg members. You had a little uniform and everything, you helped to plant flowers and decorate around the country since it was a bit hard to place down blocks.

L'Manberg really felt like a second home and a second family for you even with the constant battles, you still had each other and that was enough.

Then you and everyone else lost your first lives during Eret's betrayal and Tommy had to give up his discs (you wanted to steal them back but Tommy told you that it was ok and they'd find another way) but hey, at least you guys were independent now...right?

Then the elections happened. You were sure your brothers would win until the votes were revealed. They were banned from the country and you desperately scurried after them, trying not to get trampled in the angry mob

You helped them set up Pogtopia and that's when Wilbur decided to give you a job.

With all things considered, you were arguably one of the best spies on the server: You were tiny and hard to spot, you can hide in places no one would think to look, you were fast, agile and hard to catch, you have a far more superior sense of hearing and smelling and can therefore sense if anyone's coming much easier, and you can communicate with rodents; one of the most common and unsuspecting animals.

Therefore, Wilbur gave you and Tubbo the job of spying on Schlatt and Manberg. Tubbo would pretend to be on their side and you would eavesdrop from the shadows.

You should've been more wary of Wil's behaviour, he looked like he was loosing it but still wanting to help your brother, you accepted the job and spied on Manberg, giving Pogtopia info when you could.

Techno came to help and you thought that it would be alright from now on...then the red festival happened. Tubbo gave his speech while you watched from behind the curtains. Then he was boxed up and you could only watch in horror as Techno walked to the stage to execute your best friend.

You thought it couldn't get any worse when someone grabbed you from behind and took you to the stage. JSchlatt held you by the neck and learned that you were the spy sneaking info all along. And before you knew it, he squeezed your throat and you died from suffocation on stage.

Wilbur couldn't look you in the eyes after that and you were told that Techno shot a firework at Schlatt cause 'it wasn't part of the deal'

After the final battle, you couldn't be happier. You were celebrating with all your friends and looking for Wilbur before the ground shook and everything exploded.

You lost half your tail and parts of your left ear that day. But that loss couldn't compare to the loss of your brother, dead in your father's arms

You tried your best to return to normal and just when you started to recover, Tommy was exiled. You followed him to Logstedshire and tried to stand up for him against Dream but he was too strong.

Tommy convinced you to leave him and that he'd be ok and you naively believed him.

When Techno took him in, you followed him and couldn't be happier; your family was back together!...well most of them.

Then doomsday happened. Techno didn't tell you his plans and you were in shock as to why he would blow up L'Manberg now.

He then told you about the execution. That while you were with Tommy in exile, he was going to be executed by the butcher army. That news shook you to the core but you couldn't think straight with your second home being blown to smitherines again.

Afterwards, you decided to take a break from society and ran away to live by yourself in a small home you built in the woods for some time to recover.

Tommy would visit sometimes and told you about the hotel he was building with Sam Nook, Tubbo visited when he could, he even brought Ranboo with him once and told you about their son Michael. Philza visited once, he told you that Techno was doing alright but just hasn't found the time to visit. You didn't answer when he knocked on the door.

(Sorry if the end sounds rushed, its because it is. I just didn't know what to do about the rest of the extensive lore but let me know if you'd like more of these x reader stuff, only platonic though. Anyways, until next time my lovely marshiemellows!)

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peachy-tea-anon · 2 years

Text

𝚈𝚘𝚞...𝚏𝚘𝚛𝚐𝚘𝚝?

𝚆𝚒𝚕𝚋𝚞𝚛 𝚜��𝚘𝚝 𝚡 𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚎𝚛 𝚊𝚗𝚐𝚜𝚝

synopsis: it's your anniversary with wilbur, and you cook him his favorite dinner, but... why is he taking so long to come home?

TW: cursing, angst, hurt, abandonment etc

as you counted down the days until your anniversary with your boyfriend wilbur, you decided you wanted to suprise him! so, about a week or two before the day, you asked him if he would mind coming over to "just hang out". he agreed, and when the day came, you started cooking.

you put on a nice dress, knowing will would still be in a collared button up and nice pants from work. you cooked ALL. DAY. going to the grocery store, letting the bread dough rise, making dessert, boiling pasta.. it was a lot to handle.

you calculated an estimate time for him to be home, and once it hit that time, you set the table, lit candles, and turned on soft jazz music. oh, and of course, stashing away his gift.

...

after what felt like ages of waiting, y/n decided to call him.

...ring...

“hi, this is wilbur, leave a message after the beep“

y/n sat, a little shocked. so she decided to text him, just in case he was taking the subway and didn't want to be rude by answering the phone.

y/n💕

hey will, you on your way?

*20 mins later*

wilbur, you there?

where are you?

will..?

as an hour had passed, y/n realized he wasn't coming. she just stared down at her lap, and cried.

she didn't know how long she was crying, could've been minutes, could have been hours. but her sobs were broken by the front door making its clicking noise.

y/n was paralyzed. she could barely breathe.

as wilbur stepped through the entry way, he looked no different than normal. not rushed, not sorrowful...

"where the fuck were you wilbur."

"i was just at tommy's, why?"

y/n kept her head down.

"why didn't you answer my calls? ot my texts?"

"oh, tommy and i were playing a game that just came out. idk what the big deal is..."

y/n shook with anger, still not letting wilbur look at her in the face.

"not a big deal?" she brings her head up, and wilbur noticed her running mascara and puffy red eyes. "do you even know what today is?"

wilbur's heart dropped as he realized.

it was their anniversary.

"you know what, im leaving." you said, not even pausing to grab a coat to protect against the harsh weather. "i made all of your favorites. it's all in the fridge so you can microwave it." you said bleakly, eyes filling with tears as you turn to him one last time.

"i even got you a gift." you shove the beautifully wrapped present box with a card on top into his chest, letting your eyes wander up into his. his eyes were filled to the brim with tears, and his face is in a state of pure shock.

"im gonna go. don't even think about calling or texting me." you said, slamming the front door behind you.

Wilbur pov

fuck.

i've fucked up.

i had forgot the most important day of the year. she tried to make plans, and i went to tommy's instead to play a stupid fucking video game.

she worked all day to make all of this food for us.

wilbur laid his their shared bed, sobbing in a curled up ball, only before sitting up and staring at the gift box. it was quite large, very enticing, but he decided to read the card first.

"dearest wilbur,

there are no words to describe the amount of love i feel for you. you have helped me so so much, and i can never thank you enough. your passion, determination, and the amount of love you put into things is and always will be a marvel to me. you make me feel cared for, and no matter how bad it gets, you're always there for me.""

"you're always there for me"

as he slowly opened the box, the tears immediately started flowing.

it was a guitar.

wilbur remembered this guitar.

on their first date, wilbur took y/n to the city to roam around and see the new shops. they stopped inside a cute, quaint little music shop. he made a light comment about how he played guitar, and y/ns eyes lit up, immediately bugging him to play something with one of the shops guitars. they sat down and he played a light tune, a love song. written for her. she fell in love.

that was the guitar, sitting before him.

he didn't know what to do, but he had to do something to make things right.

a/n: HELLO EVERYONEEEE!! peachy is back and better than ever. a pt. 2 to this will come out at some point, comment if you wanna be tagged. im glad to be back, soon ill be doing a request event, so if you have any good prompts, comment!! ty guys so much, and stay peachy.🍑🍵

#dsmp x reader #dream smp #wilbur soot #wilbur soot x reader #wilbur soot x you #wilbur x reader #wilbur x y/n #dsmp wilbur #fluff #tommyinnit #dsmp angst #wilbur soot angst #angst #wilby scoot #hurt/comfort #mcyt x reader

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beansthough · 1 year

Text

Ch.5 {The Things you Hide can Come Out and Bite.}

Cw/Tw: vore, safe vore, fearplay, violence, alcohol mention, fear of death, angst.

The cool wind whipped Wilbur’s face as he ran. His breathing was harsh and rapid. He felt the ground shake behind him but that only gave him motivation to run faster.

He could only hope that the forest’s underbrush hid him well enough. He needed all the cover he could get.

His lungs ached . His legs started to tire. He couldn’t do this. He needed to breath.

He came to a stop under a large toadstool. He panted with his hands on his knees.

His ears perked up at the forest around him suddenly grew quiet. It was as if even the wind was afraid to blow.

Wilbur held his breath as time seemed to stop around him.

“Wilbur...”A sinister voice called out. Taunting.

It took all the mouse’s will to not run. He scanned the area. There.

A small opening under a tree. It looked to be an abandoned den of a rabbit. It could work.

“I can smell you.” The beast hissed with a delighted tone.

He had to time it just right. He could make it. He just had to wait.

Hot breath washed over his back.

Now.

Wilbur sprung into action speeding away. A large gust of air and the sound of claws clapping together behind him helped his legs move faster.

At the very last second he slid into the den, quickly scrambling to the very back. Wilbur held his breath as he listened to the complaints of the beast outside.

“That’s not fair Wilbur! I found you fair and square!” Wilbur looked once more at the surroundings in the den. It appears he miss judged how deep it went, he could only hope that the opening was to slim for the predator outside to reach in.

Wilbur let out a startled squeak as long claws began to dig their way in. Wilbur pressed himself into the dirt wall behind him as far as he could. The hand pushed through the dirt and roots, but still struggled to reach him.

Wilbur felt like his heart was going the explode at the feeling of a clawed finger barley grazing his chest.

To Wilbur’s relief the hand retracted with a frustrated groan and the mouse could breath once more.

It was short lived and Wilbur panicked at the sight of the end of a long red tail poking through the entrance. How could he forget to take that into account?

The tail shot right towards him, wrapping around and holding him tight. Wilbur struggled in the coils, but he could do nothing but except his fate. The beast had won and Wilbur was nothing but—

“OW! Tommy too tight!” The tail immediately loosened and the was brought to his naga’s sheepish and apologetic face.

“Sorry Wilbur, I didn’t want you to get away.” The snake was instantly checking him over for any injuries. “Trust me Tommy, I doubt you would’ve lost me for long if I did get away. But you need to get more carful with your strength.” Wilbur lectured the boy.

“I know Will. I’m trying.” Tommy whined and rubbed his charmer on his scaled cheek. Wilbur let out a laugh and swatted at Tommy’s face.

Wilbur had decided the best way for Tommy to practice his hunting skills and to relieve some of his hybrid instincts was to basically play an advanced game of hide and seek with tag mixed in. Wilbur was of course playing the role of the poor prey that Tommy would hunt down.

Wilbur’s hybrid instincts didn’t really enjoy the idea of being hunted, but Wilbur actually kinda did. It gave him a rush of adrenaline he never knew he needed. It also made him happy to be able to help Tommy in a way that the young naga thought was fun.

Not to mention it helped him with his own survival skills. He had gotten pretty good at his running, but there is definitely more room for improvement.

Tommy set him back on the ground and slithered down on his belly. Wilbur took a deep breath and took in his surroundings. This was an unknown area to him, but he trusted Tommy to be able to get them back.

They had traveled far from the village and the surrounding woods to do this certain activity. It let Wilbur have peace of mind that he and Tommy wouldn’t be seen by anyone at the village and cause a mass panic. He also really didn’t want to run into one of the guard’s scouting teams. That would be really bad.

They couldn’t be too far out. He also wasn’t feeling too tired out.

“Toms, you wanna go for one more round?” Wilbur suggested.

Tommy’s eyes lit up with glee. “Of course Wilbur! I’ll count! Go hide!” Tommy’s clawed hands covered his eyes and he started to count to 100. Wilbur took off in a sprint, a laugh bubbling out of his lips as he ran.

He couldn’t outrun Tommy. He had learned that on many occasions of their game. No, he had to find a good place to hide that was easy for him to make a quick escape if needed.

A great bush laid ahead of Wilbur. That would be a great starting point to hide.

Wilbur stumbled through the small thicket. He paused to examine his surroundings. He appeared to be standing on the closed opening to an old mine shaft.

Wilbur took a step back to get off of the rickety door. A great creak came from the rotted wood, Wilbur turned to run but the floor beneath gave way.

He let out a scream as he fell into the darkness below. He shouldn’t of been so reckless. Wilbur teansed as he waited for his body to slam into the rocky cave floor.

Wilbur gasped as his fall came to an end, and he bounced up and down until the surface was calm again.

Wilbur paled as he realized what caught him. He was in a web. A big one at that, and by the looks of it, the web was still fresh.

Wilbur dared not to move a muscle. A sick feeling got caught in his throat while he pictured the horrifying 8 legged abomination that was hidden in the darkness.

He had to get out of here. He was already fighting his instincts to not struggle in the web. Tommy had to find him. It couldn’t be long. He knew Tommy followed his scent.

Suddenly, there was a small twitch in the web. That wasn’t him. That wasn’t him.

“TOMMY!” Wilbur shouted at the top of his lungs. He could only hope that the naga could hear him.

“Well, well, well. What do we have here?” A guff voice spoke from the darkness. The heavy accented voice reverberated around Wilbur’s small form still hanging in the web.

A giant hairy clawed leg extended from the void before Wilbur and lifted up the mouse’s chin.

“I haven’t seen one of you little guys in a while.” Wilbur’s breath caught in his throat as the leg traveled down his chest, it’s fur catching in this yellow sweater.

“And you know what? I don’t think I’ve smelled something so delicious in a long time.” The gruff voice turned into a crazed malicious laugh. Wilbur began frantically struggling in the web.

“Whoa, whoa, whoa. Hold on there Mousy.” Eight giant red eyes emerged from the dark, along with a wicked smile. “I’ll help you out.”

The legs plucked him with ease out of the web and carried him to be dangled over his captor’s face.

A Drider. It’s a Drider. How does he keep ending up in these situations?!

“LET ME GO!” Wilbur shouted with all his might, clawing at the hooks of the leg that were holding him.

The wicked creature laughed and looked at Wilbur with delight.

“You can’t go just yet! The fun’s just started puny.” The strong smell of alcohol hit Wilbur’s nose as the Drider’s humid breath covered him.

Wilbur screamed as he gazed down at horror below. A large gaping maw await Wilbur’s form below, the spider’s leg swung him back and forth over the deadly cavern.

Wilbur shouted every inslut and curse he new at the monster before him as the Spider slowly started to lower him down laughing all the way.

Suddenly, with a loud crash, light poured into the cave. The spider hissed and shielded his eyes from the sun’s harsh beams. The Drider scurried back into the dark and hissed.

A deadly growl came from the entrance of the mine, and there in all his terrifying glory was Tommy.

“TOMMY! I’M HERE!” Wilbur screamed holding his hands out towards his little brother.

“Give him to me.” The beast raged. “Now.”

The Drider hissed in anger at the naga before him.

“Listen here Kid, You can’t just bust into my house and break my door! And over What?”

Wilbur was suddly jerked forward to be displayed before Tommy.

“This?” The Drider let out a harsh laugh. “This isn’t even a snack.”

Tommy growled with rage and rushed forward, his claws ready to strike. The Drider had enough sense to look a little alarmed.

“Woah kid... I don’t want any trouble.” The spider dodged, climbing to the roof of the mine.

Tommy only growled more, clawing up at the air above. “He’s mine.”

Wilbur heart dropped in his chest. He’d never seen Tommy like this before. He was different.

“Look, the name’s Schlatt. I just think we all need to calm—” Tommy shot from the ground like a spring. It didn’t take a fool to see he was striking.

He latched onto one of schlatt’s legs, sinking his sharp teeth in, and not letting go. The spider fell from the ceiling with the added weight screaming in pain.

They landed in a pile on the floor. Wilbur being held safely over head. The Drider wacked the feral naga with his free legs until he let go.

“ALRIGHT ALREADY! TAKE HIM!” Schlatt flung Wilbur into Tommy’s grasp.

Wilbur’s body shook with relief when suddenly he was raised upwards. “Tommy thank the gods you found me! I thought I was done for, I—” The only warning he got was the deadly sharp teeth that filled his vision.

———————————————————————

Wilbur had never felt fear like this before. He laid frozen, unable to move or fight against his world ending around him.

And wasn’t his world ending?

It was as if he was stuck in slow motion. Watching Tommy.... no watching the Naga before him part his jaws open wide.

Yes... His world is ending.

It’s betrayal that stings the most. Not the icy cold fear of death that freezes you still. It’s the bonding, the caring, the trust. It’s the little brother he created. It’s all of those things being ripped away that makes Wilbur’s world end.

———————————————————————

The mouse hit the snake’s tongue, and Wilbur snapped back to reality.

“TOMMY PLEASE!”

It was a cry so desperate.

The Naga sealed it’s lips. Wilbur screamed.

The long forked tongue traveled over Wilbur’s small form. The mouse fought against the slimy muscle with all his might, doing everything in his power to prevent his fate.

This couldn’t be happening. He thought... he thought that Tommy actually cared... Cared about him?

The tongue beneath him lifted, and he felt his world began to tilt back.

Oh no...

Wilbur could only sob as he slid back into the beast throat. He couldn’t believe this.

Was every moment he spent with Tommy an act? Was it nothing more than a cruel joke?

Yes, he supposed... It was just a child playing with it’s food.

He desperately called for his Tommy to come back to him, to spit him out, but it was all in vain.

With once solid gulp Wilbur began to slide down to his doom. He gasped for air as the walls around him pressed tight.

After what felt like eternity, the poor mouse plopped down into a warm fleshy cavern.

Of course he wouldn’t have the mercy of a quick death. Instead he would burn away slowly in the belly of the beast.

But it wasn’t really a beast. It was his Tommy. Tommy who he had come and stayed with everyday, who he shared his most top secret songs with, who he shared his troubles with, and who he spent many fun filled days with.

Tommy, who he had started to see as family.

A little brother.

No matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t see the being around him as a monster. It was his Tommy.

He was suddenly thrown back into a side of the stomach and then forwards again. Wilbur pulled his ears down flat at the sound of a near deafening growl. He could barely hear the sound of someone yelling outside. Possibly the Drider upset over losing an easy target. He was tossed around a few more seconds before he could finally get his bearings.

Wilbur fell to the soft pink ground with a broken sob. Defeated and exhausted, he curled up into a ball and lay in wait of his doom.

He closed his eyes tight and thought of what a fool he had been. What would his father and brother think happened to them? Would they face a similar fate? What of his friends? Wilbur could only hope for their safety and wellbeing.

It seemed that Wilbur has been stuck waiting in the stomach forever. It was as if he was cursed to an eternal limbo were time just seemed to drag on and on. Then the cavern started to shake.

Wilbur squeaked as the fleshy walls suddenly vibrated around him. His heart threatened to stop altogether when he realized it was from a sound he was all to familiar with.

Tommy was purring.

White hot rage burned in Wilbur like a match to dry plains. Of course the snake was enjoying himself.

Wilbur leapt to his feet and took a running start. He raised his leg back and slammed it forward into the was in front of him.

The world doubled over.

“Wilbur?!” A pained voice cried out.

———————————————————————

Tommy had never felt fear like this before. There have been times that have come close to this, but right now Tommy is more than terrified. Tommy is enraged.

That’s his brother.

He had felt fear of his caretaker’s judgement when he didn’t preform the best in fights. He had felt fear when the older hybrids made a plan to escape XD. He had felt fear when the poachers came.

But that was mostly fear for his own well being. Tommy knows he’s Selfish, he use to be told everyday.

This fear was stronger. This fear was for Wilbur. For his charmer. Watching him dangle in the grasp of a Drider.

Tommy’s instincts over took him in a blind rage. He would make this Drider pay. Wilbur was his.

The next few moments were a blur. He knew the Drider was angry at him for breaking into it’s territory, but Tommy could only focus on the terrified form of his brother in the spider’s hand.

Tommy’s mind could only supply him to protect his brother. To keep him in the safest place Tommy had. He just had to get him back first.

The Drider shoved Wilbur before him, cackling at some sick joke.

Tommy couldn’t take it anymore. He lunged forward. He did his best to claw at the spindly creature, but it evaded his grasp.

It was on the ceiling now. Babbling away in a nervous drunken daze. It appeared that it was trying to keep the peace, but it was far to late for that.

Tommy coiled up and struck into the air. His fangs sunk deep into the flesh of a leg. He felt himself dangle in the air for a few moments before gravity took over.

They hit the floor and Tommy didn’t let go. He wrapped his tail around the Drider as best he could, stray legs smacking into him. Wilbur was held high out of his reach. It was at this moment he realized that the Drider was more the size of an average human. Tommy was actually a little bit bigger.

The Drider screamed surrender and Tommy’s reflexes went into action. A small weight was in his hand.

It was Wilbur. His charmer. His big brother.

He would protect him. He would keep him safe. He would tuck him away and hold him close.

Wilbur would be safest within him.

In a split second his small mouse was tucked away. Now he could focus on the bigger problem in front of him.

The alcoholic arachnid.

———————————————————————

Schlatt currently has his hurt leg curled up protectively under his abdomen.

“Y-you seriously just did that?” The he coughed out. “I was just joking around!”

The naga let out a protective growl, obviously far to lost in his instincts to respond or to even comprehend what he was saying.

Schlatt looked down to his hurt leg, the bite was obviously not venomous, but even if it was he’d probably be immune to it anyways. It would heal in time.

He let out a long sigh. This is what he gets for trying to have a little fun. He should’ve known from experience he shouldn’t mess around with the smaller hybrids.

After all, his Pumpkin Spice was nothing more than a bitter memory now.

“Listen kid, just get outta here. I get it. I crossed a line.” Schlatt looked down to the kid’s middle.

The kid might’ve just crossed a line too.

The naga child hissed and slithered out of his cave. Schlatt let out a frustrated groan at the sunlight that still poured from the entrance.

He really didn’t have good luck when it came to interacting with literally anyone.

Gods, he needed a drink.

———————————————————————

Tommy started to come back to himself sitting under a tree. He was back in the clearing were he and Wilbur regularly meet.

The naga still was a little dazed from his instincts taking over full force, but as the young boy came back to himself he couldn’t help but feel like he was forgetting something.

He new one thing was for sure though. He had never been more content than in this moment. It was as if something that was missing from himself had finally made its way home. He couldn’t help let out a happy purr.

A sharp pain suddenly spiked his middle,causing him to double over in pain.

Horror flashed across his face and Tommy suddenly remembered that little thing he was forgetting. The past events of the day flashed through his mind in a blurry mess. Dread filled his heart as he felt his world coming to an end.

“Wilbur?!”

It was strained with pain, both physically and emotionally.

Tommy instantly became hyper aware of the small weight inside his storage. Shame filled his whole being as he had to fight down his purring even more as he realized just where Wilbur was.

“Tommy how could you?! I trusted you! I thought you said you wouldn’t hurt me!” The mouse sobbed pitiful and full of woe.

Tommy’s heat shattered into millions of little pieces. “No Wilbur I-!” He tried to explain.

“Was it all just some cruel joke?! Was I nothing more than a game for you?!” Wilbur weeped. “I thought... I thought you cared about me Tommy...”

“I cared about you...”

It was so full of hurt. So desperate. It was betrayal. If shards remained of Tommy’s heart they were nothing but dust now.

“I even began to think of you as my little brother.” Wilbur laughed something broken and wet. “Can you believe that?”

Tommy couldn’t take it anymore. It felt as if his very soul was ripped from his chest.

“I do care about you Wilbur! You’re my big brother!” Tommy cried tears poring down his face, he pressed a hand on his middle where Wilbur resided.

Wilbur remained silent for a moment, then he returned with the rage of the strongest storm.

“THEN WHY DID YOU EAT ME?!”

Wilbur broke into another fit of sobbed and Tommy desperately tried to explain.

“Wilbur I promise you safe! Please! I’ll let you out and you can go! You never have to see me again!” Tommy cried ugly and desperate for his brother.

His middle grew quiet again as Wilbur processed the words he was just told. Tommy felt himself starting to grow sick with grief.

“What do you mean I’m safe?” It was a quiet question and said as if Wilbur already knew the answer. Tommy replied anyways sobbing all the way.

“It’s my- It’s called my storage Wil... I promise you’re safe in there....” The Naga whimpered. “I- My instincts took over and I-...”

“I didn’t mean to, Wilby...”

It was now Tommy’s turn to cry. He ruined everything. He had hurt his brother. And now he’d never see Wilbur again, all because he couldn’t control himself.

“I- Can you let me out Tommy?” It was gentle and calm, but Tommy could still pick up on the desperation around the edges of Wilbur’s voice.

Tommy realized that he really didn’t want to let Wilbur out. Because then it would solidify the fact that Wilbur would leave and never come back. Tommy was so selfish.

Then he heard Wilbur let out a short little cry again, and Tommy knew he couldn’t hurt his brother anymore.

Tommy focused hard on the small form in his middle and sucked his stomach in. Then he followed Wil’s small frame up up up in his mind.

The next thing he knew the mouse hybrid was back in his mouth. He tried not to linger on the taste. He parted this teeth and gently deposited Wilbur in his cupped hands.

He looked down in his hands to see the soaked hybrid. His hair was going this way and that and his clothes all in disarray.

Tommy then met Wilbur’s eyes and couldn’t help but break down all over again. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to!Please don’t go Wil, please...” Tommy wept.

Wilbur’s eyes didn’t hold any hate or anger, only exhaustion and sadness. This was still his Tommy.

“I’m not gonna leave you Tommy...” Wilbur patted the palm he was in. “You just scared me. Really, really, badly at that, but I promise I’m not gonna leave you.”

Tommy whimpered and sat Wilbur on the soft ground. It seemed as though the boy was stuck in his own head. “Please don’t go, please. I can’t lose you. I would never hurt you.”

Wilbur sighed. He was mentally drained. He couldn’t even begin to try to process what he just went through. What Tommy went through. But he knew when someone needed comfort, even if they scared him half to death. Wilbur would definitely have nightmares.

“Come here Toms.” It was quiet and soft spoken in the twilight of the forest. His father and twin are probably wondering were he is, but right now he needs to be here for Tommy. Wilbur knew a panic attack when he saw one.

Tommy brought his head down to Wilbur on the forest floor. “I’m sorry Wilbur.” It was a desperate cry. Snot and tears ran down the naga’s face. “Oh Toms...”

Wilbur did his best to wipe the giant child’s cheeks. “I’m right here. I promise I’m not going.” Tommy nodded into him. “I forgive you Tommy. You did what you had to do.” Tommy sniffled and held Wilbur close.

Tommy had probably saved his life. He should have known Tommy to have protective instincts like this, but he grew blind in a mix of fear and betrayal. He should have known Tommy would try to hide instincts from Wilbur that might scare him.

“I don’t forgive me.” The naga mumbled into the dirt. Wilbur frowned at that. “Well you should. Instincts are no joke to deal with and I know you’ve been suppressing them around me.” Tommy shrunk into himself and Wilbur let out a long sigh.

Wilbur would make sure there were no more secrets between them. He wanted Tommy to be comfortable enough to tell him about anything, not just instincts. He wanted Tommy to be comfortable with himself.

“It’s gonna be hard. It will be for both of us, but Tommy I want to help you the best way I can. I don’t want you to be ashamed of who you are.” Wilbur pet Tommy’s golden hair.

“It’s gonna take some work and honestly some exposure therapy,” Wilbur laughed, his own instincts always protesting against anything predatory. “but I’m gonna help you satisfy your instincts and help you to learn how to control them when you need to.” Wilbur leaned into Tommy’s face.

“Okay?” Wilbur asked.

“Alright...” Tommy replied.

They basked in each other’s silence a moment more. The night had over taken the forest. Stars shined brightly overhead.

“And Tommy?” Wilbur added. “I’m sorry about all those mean things I said.” Tommy sniffled once more. “I was just very afraid. I wasn’t thinking right.”

“It’s alright Wilbur...”

Wilbur would be sleeping here Tonight. His father and brother would worry, but he couldn’t find it in his will to leave Tommy alone. He was hurting and honestly so was Wilbur. Tommy needed him, and Wilbur needed Tommy.

“Let’s go to bed Toms. Come on.” Tommy shook his head and gently held Wilbur in his grip as he started to climb up into the trees. He found a sturdy branch and wrapped himself around it. Tommy laid Wilbur on his chest and rested his back on the trunk of the tree. They closed their tired eyes and fell into a gentle dreamless sleep.

———————————————————————

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youreyeslookliketheocean · 7 months

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Chapter summary:

Wilbur sat down on the bed. “I almost watched you die to one, Tommy. I can’t teach you to fight, knowing that something like that might happen again. You’re my little brother.”

“And you’re my older brother. I still let you do this, knowing what might happen. Knowing what it feels like to… to hurt.”

“That’s different.”

“It’s not.”

Wilbur’s gaze drifted up to Tommy’s eyes, contemplative, and Tommy put effort into looking the part. He tilted his chin up, pushed his shoulders back, tried to bleed confidence as shimmering and brilliant as… well… gold.

“I’m not scared, Wilbur,” he said. “Please just let me help.”

****

Final chapter!!!! I hope you guys have enjoyed this fic as much as I enjoyed writing it :)

#mcyt #mcyt fanfic #fanfic #fanfiction #crimeboys #crimeboys fanfic #tommyinnit #wilbur soot #technoblade #philza minecraft #sbi #sbi fanfic #dream smp #dsmp #dream smp fanfic #hero!au #heroes/villains au #good as gold #hurt/comfort

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imhereformysciencefriends · 7 months

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@mcyt-yuri-week Day 6: Sleep!

You know I had to go for that good good puffychu angst. Read on AO3 here

Things were different now. Things were different here. Niki didn’t need to fear sleep, here, because the nightmares would all but certainly leave her alone. Right? She no longer barred herself in her room, no longer woke up in places entirely separate from where she’d put her head down. She didn’t wake to sores and scratches, to bruises where she’d flung herself against the iron.

Niki didn’t—she was better. She was supposed to be better. She wasn’t alone in her cavernous, empty city anymore. She had a little cottage in a little circle in a snowy glade out with her friends. She wasn’t the same naive girl who followed, wide and star-eyed, after a boy with big dreams and bigger betrayals. She wasn’t the same embittered wraith that burned down the symbol of her own heart and locked herself away in stone walls, metaphorical and literal.

She was a woman, a little rough and a little soft, bread burnt on the outside but still doughy in the center. But she was here, and she was fine, and she shouldn’t have trouble with sleep, still.

Some weeks were worse than others. Some weeks were better.

Sometimes, she was bundled up in a blanket on Technoblade’s floor, back pressed against Steve’s flank and any number of wolfdogs clamoring for the prized spot of resting on her lap. Sometimes, she was on Phil’s couch, mug of tea in hand and mechanical bits and bobs slowly overtaking his floor, chatting while he worked late into the night. Sometimes she was huddled together with Connor and Ranboo in Ranboo’s living room, spitballing and discussing the absolute worst pranks known to human or hybrid-kind until they nodded off one by one. Sometimes, she was in Puffy’s new place, fresh built walls and a fresh-woven blanket draped over her when she woke in the same chair she’d fallen asleep in.

And some nights, she went about her day, and fell asleep in her own bed as thoughtlessly as she brushed her teeth or washed her hair.

But some nights, she laid in that bed and stared at her black ceiling, dark and safe without monsters nearby, lanternlight flickering weakly in through her windows. And stared. And stared. And stared. For hours. She’d toss and she’d turn, maybe, but mostly she just stared, sleep nearby but refusing to visit her.

But some nights, she’d go out mob hunting, justifying that they always needed bones for bonemeal, always needed arrows for the unenchanted bows, always needed rotten flesh to butcher for the dogs and bears and foxes, always needed spider silk for its many uses and gunpowder for—

And she’d go logging, after, because their woodfires were ever burning, and who didn’t always need more wood? Go mining, sometimes, because it was a Player’s code to mine and hey, they could always use more stone. Well, that wasn’t true. But coal! Coal was plentiful in uses, and iron, and gold, and lapis when she dug that far. Even got herself a few diamonds doing it.

And she’d glance at her cute little cottage she’d built herself and the dark, warm little bedroom upstairs and she knew the bed was in it but she couldn’t go to it, she went out to work in their greenhouse for a little late night gardening or wandered over to the village to get the best early morning deals or hell, she even went fishing some nights because hey, all resources are good resources, and while steak was filling the same taste over and over and over again got a little boring!

Some nights, she picked up a boat, picked a direction, and just rowed.

Probably for the best, when she did that. Made it so the phantoms wouldn’t haunt the commune. So that nobody else would know—

Except they did. They all did. Even Connor knew, and Connor didn’t know fuckall about anything. No, no, that was rude, he was–he was fine. Niki was the one with the issues. Niki was the one with dark shadows under her eyes, with a pinched face, legs and arms that moved too slow, an attention span that kept wandering. Niki was the one with a waning appetite and flickers in the corner of her vision.

She needed to sleep. It was factual. It was a basic bodily function that all people did and needed. If she kept going like this she was going to be too shaky to aim right at the phantoms. She could get really hurt. And then her friends would worry, and yeah it was a nice thought that they’d do that for her, but far more pressing was that Niki could not, under any circumstances, inconvenience them more than she already did with the mere fact of her existence.

But every time she thought about the bed in the dark in her room she got—

Maybe, maybe she’d—but then they’d ask questions and Niki didn’t have answers. Well, she had the answers, but she didn’t want to share them. Probably. Who knew! God, it was like she was back down there again, back alone in her underground city with room for everyone she’d ever loved and not a single soul to visit her.

“Hey Niki!” Puffy called brightly, startling her into a jump.

“Puffy,” she said, and she couldn’t quite stop the way her voice came out a little forlorn, a little wistful. “Hey, how are you?”

“I’m good, I’m good,” she said, her fluffy woolen hair stuffed into the neckline of her coat and making for a fashionable, natural scarf in the winter weather. The velvety insides of her ears were pinked, though, and Niki felt the absurd urge to reach out and warm them up between her palms.

The two had quit dating a while ago. Move on.

“I was wondering if you were up to anything tonight?” Puffy asked, and Niki hesitated.

Because, no, she didn’t have plans. Other than avoiding her bed and the phantoms in equal measure. On the other hand, this very much sounded like an invitation, and a roof could keep the phantoms quiet as they stalked and waited for her to exit, but if Puffy wanted to do something together after nightfall, it’d become clear as blades that Niki had something wrong with her.

“Why do you ask?” she hedged, trying to soften the shape of her words enough to make up for how rude she was being.

“I was wondering if you wanted to do a hot chocolate and book reading night with me!” Puffy said, like this was some sort of commonplace convention and not something she’d just made up. Niki couldn’t stop the giggle. Puffy was always like that, brash and bold and striding forward in a straight line. It made the way Niki cringed in the shadows feel all the more sickly, but she couldn’t help but grasp after that brilliant light that fell off of Puffy wherever she walked.

“That sounds really nice,” she said, more genuinely than she thought it’d come out. Already she could feel her shoulders relaxing, the way her body curled towards the little sheep woman like pins rolling across a desk towards a magnet.

“Sweet!” Puffy said, removing one mittened hand from her coat pocket to grasp Niki’s own, dragging her across the commune to where her nice, neat little house now stood.

Ridiculously, Niki felt the urge to surround Puffy’s house with flowers, reminisce about the store they’d run together—

Stop. They were friends. Nothing more, probably not anything less. Between the Egg and the Syndicate and the nuke that almost went off, their romance had gotten shot so dead, Niki wasn’t sure it could be revived. But the nice thing about a blank slate was they could write whatever they wanted on it, and maybe Niki could do it right this time. She could start by not feeling ridiculous feelings every time she and her friend hung out.

Inside, Puffy stomped snow off her hooves and trotted over to throw another log on the fire before stripping out of her gloves, hat, and coat. Niki hung her own winter wear over the back of a chair, stomping snow off but leaving her boots on. Since Puffy didn’t wear boots to take off, her floor had a tendency of collecting dirt and grime, so Niki figured 1. she wouldn’t mind it, and 2. it’d be wiser for her poor human feet.

“I’ll get started on the cocoa,” Puffy said with a bright smile, making her way towards the small, already-growing-cluttered kitchen. A dishmaid, Puffy was not. “You go find something that’d be fun for us to read!”

“So, what, we’re just reading to each other tonight?”

“Yup!”

Niki laughed softly and examined Puffy’s bookshelves. She only had the two, a modest selection on them, and mostly nautically themed. She saw a copy of one of Techno’s favorite anthologies, probably “loaned” to her from Connor, who had gotten it from Niki, who had borrowed it from Ranboo, who’d been lent it by Phil off of Techno’s shelf. It never left the commune, so Techno didn’t really mind, but he did make a great huff about it at Phil from time to time.

“Have you had a chance to get through this at all?” Niki asked, lifting the anthology from the shelf and holding it up where Puffy could see. Puffy glanced at it over her shoulder, then resumed stirring the cacao powder into milk and sugar on the stove.

“I haven’t, actually! That’s a great idea, we could pass it back and forth between us that way.”

Niki tucked the book under her armpit and leaned against the doorframe near the stairs. Upstairs was the bedroom, down here was the livingroom, bathroom, and kitchen. It wasn’t a particularly large house, though Puffy had never claimed herself a builder. It was cute, though, and despite its newness, felt lived in. Less lonely than the little cottage and the little bed waiting back for Niki.

Her head tapped against the wooden frame and Niki realized that she was nodding off while standing there. Shit. Get it together, or Puffy’ll notice. She’d been spacing out, too, oh no, what if Puffy had said something to her? She didn’t mean to come off like she’d been ignoring her—and she was far too awkward to ask.

Puffy poured the hot chocolate into two mugs and scooped them up with careful bravado. “Alright! So, I know I keep my place colder than you non-woolen folks tend to like: do you wanna do this on my bed? That way we can huddle under a blanket together.”

There was something to Puffy’s cadence that seemed almost practiced, but Niki mentally waved it off as her being tired. Part of her wanted to make a joke about Puffy inviting her into her bed, but she wasn’t sure enough of their relationship to know that it’d be well received.

“Blankets sound nice.” She’d have to be particularly mindful not to nod off in Puffy’s bed. This was just… two friends hanging out. Gals being pals. Puffy insisting on yet another weird social get together, like eating meat so spicy it makes people cry, or like the punch bowl at the banquet—

“Let’s go,” Niki said, turning and leading the way up the stairs. Cutting that line of thought off right quick. Puffy’s hooves trotted up the stairs behind her, and Niki took in the little bedroom as she rounded the bed at its center. It was cute. About what Niki might’ve expected, if she’d expected anything. A picture of Foolish, Michelle, Foolish Jr., and Finnley was displayed proudly on the nightstand next to a small lamp. A chest that looked like it could’ve come straight out of a children’s book about pirates sat beneath the windowsill, the sleeve of something sticking out from the closed mouth. The little potted flower Ranboo had given Puffy as a welcome gift sat neatly on the sill, and strings of sea glass hung from the top of the window. Niki was sure they would’ve glinted nicely in the sunlight. A second nightstand had a scattered assortment of earrings and necklaces, which Puffy shoved out of the way before setting a mug of cocoa down, and handed Niki the other, which she set carefully next to the framed photo.

Puffy then corralled Niki onto the bed, pulling up the big, soft, quilted duvet up around their shoulders and Niki happily tucked herself in.

“Oh, shoot, you’ve got feet,” Puffy mentioned, setting her mug right back down and hopping off the bed. Out of the chest, she pulled a second blanket, and tossed that over Niki’s lap. “Sorry. Hooves, you know, I forget.”

“I didn’t mind,” Niki said, but couldn’t deny: this was cozy as hell.

“You wanna read the first one, or should I?” Puffy asked, and Niki smiled over the rim of her mug.

“I can,” she said. The cocoa was still a little hot for her tongue, anyway. Puffy cuddled up next to her and Niki only blushed a little.

Some chunk wedged inside her heart tugged loose, and Niki could feel tension bleed out of her like a bottle uncorked. She leaned her head on top of Puffy’s, careful not to get a horn to the face, and read the now-familiar tale of Apollo and Artemis’s births. The cocoa held in Puffy’s hands wafted sweetly, filling the space with soft scent, and Puffy was a warm little furnace against her side, heat trapped beneath the two blankets and pillows at her back. It was with some reluctance that Niki handed the book over to Puffy, but her own mug was cooled enough now, and Niki did admittedly want to take a sip herself.

It was with Herculean effort that Niki kept her eyes open during the tale of Narcissus and Echo, Puffy’s voice even and steady and warm. Niki found her mind wandering to how nice it was. She must’ve had plenty of practice reading to her kids and grandkids. Niki didn’t catch much of the story itself, admittedly, but she’d read it before, herself. She knew how it went. Far more captivating was the warm mug cradled between her palms and the warm line of the woman against her.

Niki finished off her mug before setting it down, and mercifully perked up a bit when it was her turn to read.

Mnnmgn, the words on the page were a little fuzzy, but Niki just read slowly and tried not to yawn. Despite reading the tale of Kronos out loud, by the time she reached the end of the story, she couldn’t have told you what it was about.

She’d slouched a bit, without realizing it. She slouched further now, Puffy shifting next to her as well, getting comfy. They were propped up against the pillows, but only barely might’ve been considered upright. Instead of leaning against the top of Puffy’s head, Niki now found herself pillowed against Puffy’s shoulder. And when had she gotten there? She should sit up straighter, like this she was going to…

Fall asleep.

Niki found herself, shock of all shocks, in a very pleasant dream. No iron bars or burning cities or ghosts of men she’d trusted, she was on an adventure of some sort, wild but safe and happy. She was in the middle of locating a geode when she was thrust suddenly back into the realm of the waking, the shoulder she’d been so warmly pillowed against yanking upwards.

Niki let out some undignified noise and flailed, briefly, but even over her own sounds she could hear the gasp wrenching out of Puffy.

“Puffy?” she asked, bleary and disconcerted.

“Fuck,” she heard Puffy say, quiet, just a breath. Then Puffy was untangling herself from the blankets, and in the moonlight from the window and the soft glow of a sea-lantern nightlight by the stairs Niki saw—she was shaking.

“Puffy?” Niki repeated, more awake, more concerned.

“I’m fine,” she said, too fast, too abrupt. “Don’t—worry about it. Everything’s fine. I’m just—gonna get myself some water.”

Too much like she was running away, Puffy all but bolted from the room, down the stairs faster than Niki could respond. Niki clicked on the lamp and had to do her own detangling from the blankets—Puffy must’ve tucked her in—before deciding to throw one around her shoulders like an oversized shawl. It was cold, in the middle of the night, and if Niki had any inkling of what was going on, she was sure Puffy might like the comfort, in a minute.

She followed her downstairs and found Puffy bent over the kitchen sink, tense as a strung bow and breathing slowly, deliberately.

Niki approached her slowly, and from the side. No surprises. No threats. Just a friend, and a friend’s concern. She settled a hand on Puffy’s shoulder gently, and Puffy groaned. Scrubbed at her face with one hand.

“Fuck.”

“Nightmare?”

Puffy grunted, nodding shallowly.

“It happens,” Niki said, quiet in the stillness of night. “I get them all the time. We can talk about it, if you like?”

“No, no, tonight is supposed to be for you, I don’t wanna saddle you with my baggage,” Puffy groaned, still sounding slightly short of breath.

Niki frowned. “What do you mean, ‘supposed to be for me?’ I thought we were just hanging out?”

Somehow, beneath her hand Puffy grew even stiffer.

“Puffy?”

Puffy groaned again, dropping her head and scratching at her hair. “I just—you’ve been, you—I don’t have to lie to you, Niki! You know we know you haven’t been sleeping,” she said, some mix of exasperation and self-consciousness.

Niki flinched back, snatching her hand away. So this was— Eugh, she’d worried everyone, dammit, she knew it. Stupid little Niki, foolish little girl, problems bleeding out all over the place, couldn’t keep a lid on that shit no matter how hard she tried.

But at the same time, despite the immediate guilt of weighing others down with her problems, it felt… relieving, too. To have someone say it out loud. Like the sting of ripping a bandaid off. It hurt to hear but, well.

“I just—wanted you to have a nice night. Catch a few hours. Do something fun.”

“It was fun,” Niki said honestly. Drinking cocoa and reading stories—it was really nice. “I had a nice night. But it’s okay if you need me to help you, too.”

Framing it like that, it didn’t feel quite as much like admitting that she needed help. Like helping Puffy too was less burdensome than simply needing Puffy’s help.

Puffy was silent, a moment. Rubbed a hand up against her eye, then forehead. Let out a long, shaky breath, then nodded.

“It was the Egg again.”

“It’s back?”

Puffy barked a laugh, a hollow, bitter sound. “No, no, it’s still taken all to pieces, scattered around in iron boxes so it can’t reform. It’s gone and dead. But I still…” Puffy gestured vaguely at her forehead. Niki resettled her hand on Puffy’s back.

“I get it.”

“I feel so guilty and—stupid, I held out so long against it but in the end I still—” she hiccupped around a soft sob, and Niki drew her closer.

Pulled her into the crook of her shoulder, pulled the blanket around the two of them so they were both beneath its warmth. Pet a hand down Puffy’s woolen hair and pressed her face against the top of her head, nose fitting neatly against Puffy’s hornbed.

It almost shocked her, how, despite how much the two of them had gone through, how they’d suffered and recovered and changed, Puffy still fit against her so perfectly like this. Still slotted so neatly into her arms, against her body, perfect height for Niki to rest against, her thick arms around Niki’s waist.

“You were so strong,” Niki whispered, holding Puffy as she trembled and choked back sobs. “You were strong, and fought against it so bravely. It’s okay if it didn’t go the way you hoped it would. In the end, we got you out, and you helped us destroy it, and now you’re here. That’s what matters.”

“It killed my son and I still went to it!”

“Shhhh,” Niki soothed, petting gently through her hair. “You fought your best. It didn’t fight fair. Foolish is okay, too. He’ll have his own nightmares, but none of them were your fault. I was there that night—you did everything you could.”

“I didn’t—”

“You did.” Niki felt slightly bad to cut her off, but Puffy needed to hear it. Or at the very least, Niki hoped she did. “You did,” she repeated, softer, “and it’s okay if it wasn’t enough. Sometimes, even when we give our absolute best, it still isn’t enough. But we lived to try again another day, and now it’s dead and we’re still here.”

If Puffy had anything else to say, it was drowned out by her tears, no longer able or willing to hold them back. Niki held her as she cried, occasionally murmuring soft nothings that got lost within her hair. She held her as Puffy’s fingers dug into the fabric of her shirt. She held her as she trembled. She held her as she wept.

It was hard to say how long the two of them stood there in the dark of Puffy’s kitchen, accompanied by only the moon and starlight. But eventually Puffy settled. Scrubbed at her eyes and blew her nose. She did get a glass of water, then, and the two returned to bed hand in hand.

Niki cuddled up against her very deliberately, then. The cat was already out of the bag: she was here because Puffy knew she had trouble sleeping. And Puffy needed the comfort too, bundled up in blankets once more and still a little sniffly.

“Thanks,” she said, voice raw.

“You too,” Niki returned softly, and closed her eyes.

Puffy was warm and small and dense. Her arm was once again settled around Niki’s shoulders, and Niki stretched an arm of her own across Puffy’s hips. The two of them probably needed to discuss… this. This thing between them. If they were trying again, if they even still could. Niki was still achingly fond of Puffy, and from the events of tonight she didn’t think herself hopeless in praying that Puffy might feel the same. But that was a daylight conversation. Tonight, they could both really use some sleep. Niki closed her eyes, basking in the warmth radiating off her, the way chocolate still lingered ever so faintly in the air, the steady firmness of muscle and bone beneath her cheek.

Niki went back to sleep counting heartbeats instead of sheep.

#Niki Nihachu #Captain Puffy #Puffychu #CaptainPuffy #Niki #Nikki #dream smp #DSMP #mcytyuriweek2023 #mcyt yuri week #my writing #haro writes #insomnia #cuddling #hurt/comfort #nightmares #listen. you didn't think I was gonna do yuri week without doing the CLASSIC puffychu angst did you #tho tbf I'm a day behind #my beloved is visiting for the weekend and I have been Distacted

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luna-jaden-shadow · 2 years

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Dead On Your Feet

Prompts - Hidden Injury | Waking Up Disoriented | Can’t Pass Out

Summary - Something that Ranboo wasn't counting on when he went on a walk was finding someone bleeding out, much less someone that was so similar to him Or In which Ranboo finds a dragon hybrid after they crashed in the snow and takes them home to heal them

Angst / Fluff

Warning - Blood/Gore, Injury,

Pairing - C!Ranboo X Enderdragon!Reader

A/n - Did I write out a whole one-shot and then write a new one for this prompt? Yes. Yes, I did.

-><-

“Stay awake.”

You mumble it to yourself like a prayer, eyes getting harder and harder to stay open in the cold. Your movements are slow, limbs feeling a thousand times heavier in the harsh cold of the tundra you're passing through. Every now and then, your wings give out, dropping you a bit before you catch the wind again. You're deathly pale from the cold, and a large cut rests on your back along your spine, still bleeding as you fly. Your head pounds from the injury on your head, blood covering the side of your face, staining half of your vision in a layer of red.

“Just a little further.” You promise yourself though you're still unsure of where you're going. The terrain you're flying over is unfamiliar to you; all you know is that you're going west, following where the sun is slowly beginning to fall towards the horizon line. “Just a little-” Your voice fails with your wings as you plummet from the sky, unable to catch the wind like before. Seeing that you weren’t going to be able to catch the wind or flap enough to fly, you wrap your wings around yourself and tuck your head down. A yelp leaves you as you crash into a forest area in the tundra, snow-covered branches only slowing your crash landing. You land in the snow with a groan, sliding a bit from where you hit before you came to a full stop.

You uncurl your wings from around yourself; you lay in the snow and let out short huffs of air. A long moment passes before you try to at least sit up, your muscles ache for you to stop, and your body craves sleep. You're only able to push yourself up only an arm's length from the ground. Panting, you wince at the pain in your back as you move.

Somewhere in the snowy forest, there’s a crunch in the snow, footsteps drawing closer to you as you shiver and bleed out in the cold. A figure appears, moving behind the trees as your arms give out, making you lay on the snowy ground once more, the side of your face against the snow. The figure slowly approaches you, breaking the small tree line till they’re just a few feet away from you. Tired eyes look up at them, catching the vibrant eyes that stare down at you in curiosity.

With very little energy, you try to shift back in the snow, only to groan in pain and give up on what you believe would be your second death. As your vision blurs, the figure walks closer and kneels down, unclasping the cloak from their shoulders and wrapping it around you, gently pulling your wings to your body to move them under the cloak. “I got you.” His voice is calming, almost soothing to you, as he moves you to be able to be picked up. “This is gonna hurt.” He picks you up, holding you close to his chest in an attempt to keep you warm.

You groan at the movement, your head against his shoulder. He starts walking instantly off in some direction. At some point during the walk, you finally pass out from exhaustion, becoming limp in the stranger’s arms.

. . .

The bright light of day burns through the window, laying a strip of light across your eyes. Your eyes screw tighter as you stir from your sleep, groaning as you turn your head to try and hide from the daylight. Slowly, you open your eyes and are met with an unfamiliar room and bandages all over your body. Purple eyes move around the room and find no one other than you in the room. Shifting, you slowly push yourself up on the bed, groaning at the pain in your back. you swing your legs over the edge of the bed. Reaching your hand to your head, you feel the bandages wrapped around your head and groan at the pulsing that hits you at the acknowledgment of the wound.

Relieved, you drop your hand before slowly pushing yourself off of the bed, and the second you are up straight, you stumble forward, and your knees give out. You hit the wooden floor with a soft thud, your wings shuddering in pain behind you. Somewhere in the house, there’s a different thud and then movement, making you panic as you scoot back on the floor till your back presses against the bed, making you hiss.

The footsteps approach the room, and the door opens to show the person from before she had blacked out, only now she can see them clearly. They stand tall, with black and white hair that matches their skin and barely reaches their jawline. It was clear that they were a hybrid by just about everything about them. There's a certain pull about them that reminds you of home. You two are in a stand-off for a long moment, neither trying to move in any way. Both hybrids are unsure of where to go from here, both very unsure of what the other is capable of.

“You should be in bed.” He voices, watching you shift uncomfortably. You don't say anything, trying to figure out if you should trust him or not. “You were on your last legs when I found you; if I was gonna-ya know-I would have out there.” He insists, hoping that would aid in your internal dilemma. He steps forward cautiously, holding his hand out to you; there’s a gold band on his pinky finger as well as one with some kind of green gem in it on his middle finger. You stare at his hand for a moment before taking it and letting him help you stand up and then sit on the bed. “Is it okay if I change your bandages?”

You hesitate before nodding, watching him with cautious eyes as he moves around the room before he pulls up a chair beside the bed. Gently, he takes your right arm and undoes the bandages to show off all the little cuts that have since healed and no longer need to be dressed before doing the same to the other.

“Can I ask what your name is?” His voice is soft as he gently cleans a large cut on the back of your hand. The washcloth he uses is dipped into a healing brew before being applied, aiding in the healing process of your wounds.

You let out a hiss as he cleans and dresses the cut. “Y/n.” Your voice is quiet and cracks a bit, leading him to offer you the glass of water from the bedside table, you down half of it before setting it aside again.

The man hums, suddenly standing up from the chair. You flinch at his movement, backing up on the bed as though he is going to do something to you. Your wings flare up despite the pain it causes you; you can't help it it's your body’s attempt at making yourself look bigger in the face of danger. He pauses all movements, staring at you and your barely stretched-out wings. “It’s alright.” He promises his hands up with his palms facing you.

“Sorry.” You mumble, fiddling with your hands as he unwraps the bandage from around your head.

“It’s alright.” He insists, looking at the cut on your head. “Do you remember what happened?” One hand pushes back your hair while the other cleans the cut that follows along your hairline. He’s cautious of accidentally bumping the dark horns on your head, the right one of which is broken, the faint cracks that travel down to the base faintly puls a purple color that matches your eyes. “You have quite the cut here, so I wanna make sure you don’t have brain damage.”

What happened to you comes to you in flashes, moments of chains, and pillager laughter. A ripping pain from your head and the burning cut down your back makes you shiver. You get lost in the broken memories of your time wherever you were, zoned out as the man wraps your head. As soon as his touch leaves you, you focus back on him and give him a small nod.

“That’s good.” He notes. “I’m gonna change the one on your back, okay?” You look at him for a moment before nodding. “Just turn a bit for me?” You shift on the bed, turning your back to him. He cuts the bandages away, and you wrap your arms around her chest. “Sorry about the whole missing shirt thing; I had to remove it to get to the cut.”

“It’s okay…”

Mismatch eyes glance at you, “Ranboo.”

You hum, flinching from his touch when he probes the cut along your spine. He mumbles out another apology as his touch changes to be gentle after that, cleaning the wound carefully to not hurt you too much. “Thank you.”

He covers the healing wound, and with your help, he wraps your back and chest, maneuvering around the bases of your wings. “Don’t mention it, couldn’t just leave you to freeze in the snow.” He replies, starting to put away the healing supplies as you turn in the bed. “Are you hungry?” You look up as he turns fully to look at you.

You give a small nod, your attention now drawn to the window. Outside of the building, it snows, a drastic change from when you had woken up. Ranboo takes a moment, observing you and the faraway look in your eyes as you stare at the snowfall. For the moment, you're a person of few words he’s concluded, of course, that could be due to shock or whatever trauma you've gone through before he’d found you. Regardless of what happened, he was prepared to help you through it.

#dsmp #dsmp ranboo #c!ranboo #ranboo #enderman hybrid #reader insert #x reader #playtonic #hurt comfort #injury #mention of death #mention of freezing #ender dragon #hybrid!reader #whumptober2022 #no.4 #dead on your feet #can't pass out #waking up dissoriented

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fernlessbastard · 1 month

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Quackity's a workaholic.

He would spend nights working instead of sleeping, but eventually, when Las Nevadas was developed enough to mostly run itself, that it isn't just work. He could never truly sleep, never wanted to fall asleep, scared of his own mind when not focused on something, only sometimes pushing himself to rest through alcohol or pure exhaustion.

Wilbur on the other hand never had issues falling asleep. It came to him naturally, or maybe it was the constant exhaustion (especially after revival). He could never really sleep though. He would fall asleep, but not rest, half conscious most of the time, or experiencing terrible nightmares and waking up in the middle of the night.

Inspired by your recent art, Quackity would sometimes just stare at sleeping Wilbur. But, Wilbur would often stare at sleeping Quackity in the morning, admiring his lover when he's all soft and calm, and thinking of ways to surprise him with something nice when he wakes up. Maybe he should make him breakfast.

Ok so I love this cause I absolutely adore the "opposites attract" HCs with Q but it'd always be like "well they both definitely have sleep issues" but this is a way to have both and like that's a major slay

Three little hcs regarding their sleeping habits: 1. they both have a tendency to wake up when the other does, just automatically - they're just synchronised (most of the time at least one of them falls right back asleep tho); 2. Wilbur's weak sleep is significantly worse when Quackity's still working - like, he will finally come to bed and Wil's asleep but then Q sits down on the bed (quietly as fuck) and Wilbur's like "hey"; 3. they switch around their sleeping positions, but Wilbur absolutely loves being the small spoon - partly cause he's always cold, but mainly cause he wasn't held enough as a kid/hj

Aaaand in the spirit of the ask, a little headcanon that's tied up with this (plus more at the end):

Common one, but I'll elaborate - Quackity's warm, Wilbur's cold. So, of course Wilbur's cold after revival cause his body's kinda fucked up and all that. Quackity - for a normal human (or a normal animal hybrid I guess idk works with duck too) consistently has a pretty high body temperature. He prefers sleeping mostly undressed (maybe with shorts on but that's not a guarantee/lh), he usually has to unbutton his shirt a bit lower than standard (I mean he's also a whore but it's a 2 in 1 y'know), etc etc.

Now, with Schlatt that resulted in limited cuddling even in the honeymoon phase cause the other also had a higher body temperature, and they'd just end up sweaty and uncomfortable.

With Eret the relationship started with a generic, platonic, positive message ("you matter ♡ -Eret" which they gave out to people in general just as a nice gesture, but nothing romantic) and ended with Q alone at the altar, so it's probably safe to say that didn't really come up.

With Karl and Sapnap though his body temperature was both too much, and not enough - Sapnap, as a demon hybrid, was much warmer, so with him cuddling wasn't really the most comfortable long-term, and while Karl was slightly on the colder side, Quackity wasn't as warm as Sapnap, so Karl would mostly cling to the latter. They'd try to make it all "even", but the emotional and physical distance was still noticeable.

And then there's Wilbur.

In pogtopia they didn't really cuddle much, but whenever they touched shoulders or leaned against each other Quackity noticed that Wilbur would frequently lean in for just a second longer than normal. This came back 10x stronger after revival. With a lot of Wilbur's nerves and blood vessels fucked up, he's pretty cold most of the time. The first time they cuddle he absolutely sinks into the embrace, making a comment about how nicely warm the other is. Quackity doesn't expect it to hit him as hard as it does. He giggles, slightly flustered, and dismisses it as Wilbur just being colder. From then on it repeats, and soon enough Quackity returns the favour by unintentionally hitting Wilbur with something along the lines of "you're like, the perfect temperature". See, Wilbur's always been on the colder side. He'd hear comments about how cold his hands were - not to even mention post revival - and he never really thought much of it, until Quackity's comment just hit him like a ton of bricks, and he just felt so perfectly in place in Q's arms. They just form the perfect temperature equilibrium; not too warm, not too cold - just perfect.

Little bonus: Quackity starts occasionally taking a jacket or sth with him even though he doesn't need it but he knows Wilbur will probably get cold (and need a second jacket).

Another little bonus that connects this HC to a different one about Quackity having sensory issues. VERY tldr is that sometimes he just gets this intense physical discomfort in his limbs (AuADHD moment), and only way to lessen it is intense stretching, OOOORR using Wilbur as his personal ice bag. There'll be nights where Wilbur will try to move his foot cause "it's probably too cold and bothering Q" just for Quackity to "scold" him for moving it cause it was pressing perfectly into his calf and keeping him from losing his mind cause of sensory issues.

Also they both have food sensitivities, but Q's are more broad, and sometimes they'll spend hours arguing(/lovingly) over what to get on pizza, or when they go to a new food place sometimes Wilbur will just look at Quackity who's staring at the idk olives he accidentally ordered in his food (cause he didn't know the dish contained them) and he will just silently slide over his plate so that his boyfriend can peacefully pick all of them out and give them to Wilbur. When Wilbur encounters food sensitivities - say, in a restaurant - Quackity will go full Karen mode and make sure his boyfriend gets only the food he wants.

Continuing the topic of mental health, sometimes Wilbur will struggle with hygiene during depressive episodes, to which Quackity will either motivate him with showering together(/nsx), a shared bath, if he's doing worse, or in the worst case scenario he'll help him clean himself up with a damp cloth (no judgement, no comments even, just love and support)

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error-dream-was-found · 1 month

Text

So, as I promised, a snippet from the upcoming chapter of smiling masks and golden crowns!

The chapter is pretty much written already so it should be updated in a few days :)

Dream was scrambling to get away from him, getting visibly more distressed when he found himself unable to get free from the blankets his legs were tangled in. He struggled to get them off, looking awfully frantic. Then Sam made the mistake of taking another step in his direction. The moment he moved, Dream ditched his efforts to break free from the blankets and basically crawled across the floor as far from him as his weak body would allow. A quiet string of what the creeper soon recognized as no, no, please no fell off his lips while he painstakingly dragged himself further, inch by inch.

“Dream.”

Sam said helplessly, wanting nothing more than to reach for the younger.

“No!”

Came Dream’s shrill reply. He pushed himself firmly into a corner, trying to get as far away from Sam as physically possible and maybe even dissolve into the wood if the laws of physics allowed it, all while words still spilled from his lips.

“No, no, no, please! I'm sorry, I'm sorry Warden! I’ll be good I promise, I’ll be good, Warden, I won’t cause trouble! I won’t ask for anything! Please, please, please, please!”

Dream basically cried, shaking his head. It left Sam completely dumbfounded. Of course, this was not the first time he’d scared Dream, it probably wouldn’t be the last either, but it hurt all the same. What was he supposed to do? How could he help?

Alerted by all the commodition, Fran stepped into the room and Sam caught her just in time before she could fling herself at Dream and potentially make his spiral worse. He loved her and he wanted to let her help, but as amazing as she was, he doubted that there was something she could do besides confusing Dream further.

“Dream, I … it’s me, Dream. It's Sam.”

The creeper pleaded, hoping to get through the panic that had taken hold of Dream’s mind. Surely, there was a way to make him snap out of it.

#snippet #dsmp fanfic #smiling masks #dsmp #c!dream #c!sam #c!sam and c!dream #c!dream and c!sam #dream smp #cannon inaccuracy let's gooo 🥲#hurt/comfort #dsmp au

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trashland-llamas · 7 months

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@mcyt-yuri-week day 3 + hurt/comfort + dsmp + tinarose + stimboard

⛓️ 🌹 ⛓️ / 🌹 ⛓️ 🌹 / ⛓️ 🌹 ⛓️

#mcytblr #mcyt #dsmp #dsmpblr #tinarose #hannah rose #tinakitten #dsmp tinakitten #dsmp hannah #mcyt yuri week #day 3 #hurt/comfort #dsmp moodboards #moodboards

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mysticalsoot · 11 months

Text

peer pressure and canned beer

oh? yet, another fic of my self-indulgent boarding school au

A/N; lilly and I came up with this idea when we were sad so it's very angsty and I'm still very set on it so- do not do what wilbur does, maybe don't pick a fight with a drunk guy, and please for the love of god DO NOT KISS YOUR EX ESPECIALLY WHEN YOU'RE IN A RELATIONSHIP okay that's my disclaimer (also maybe communicate w your partner-) ooooh also!! there will be a part 2!! i just have to write it! also a quiet lil ty to everyone that helped me describe canned beer, yall are lifesavers<33

summary; wilbur gets convinced to hang out with some kids on another team. he gets peer pressured a bit, gets drunk, makes a mistake and when he sees you back in the dorm building, he makes a few more

tw// swearing, underage drinking, peer pressure, kissing, undertones of cheating, may is a bitch, some homophobia if you read between the lines

words; 3k

pairings; cc!wilbur x gn!reader

pronouns; none!

masterlist

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

Wilbur rarely ever found himself in situations where he would be pressured by his peers into anything. He was a wanderer who enjoyed his quiet time on the edge of situations, a watcher. A hawk--or at least you called him a hawk. He liked to observe, note everyone's behavior. From their body language, to the tone of voice they would use, to how they use words--he noticed it all, and he noted it all as well.

But when it came to people's intentions, he was alot worse at being as aware as he is with other things. It wouldn't be the first time he'd get peer pressured into something without realizing he was being pressured in the first place. He wouldn't be able to tell someone had malicious intent, especially if they held a smile, like most shit people do.

So all in all, when Wilbur told you a group of boys from another team had asked him to hang out with them, you were a smidge worried. Wilbur didn't clarify who these boys were, but he seemed excited when he told you so you smiled and uttered a small "That's awesome, bee!" and told him to go have fun.

This wasn't fun.

Well, it wouldn't be for you.

But for Wilbur? He was being accepted into another group, he was more a part of his peer group, of his school--or this is what he felt. He wasn't sure.

"Come on, William! Loosen up!" One of the boys, by the name of Dan, smirks as he lifts the beer up and towards Wil's direction. He tries to hide the grimace building up on his face as he looks at the beer and decides to take it in his hand. He pops the tab and takes a sip, groaning after he swallows it. Its disgusting, that's what conclusion Wilbur has come to. He can't tell if it tastes like nasty rust water or stale piss. Either way, it's fucking disgusting.

"That's- god, that's gross," Wilbur shakes his head as he grimaces, nearly gagging at the aftertaste and memory of it.

"Cheap bear is gross," Another student in this group speaks, a girl this time. The one Wilbur noticed you always had a distaste for, the one that made you insecure. He feels like he remembers hearing something about this girl, May. Maybe about her liking him? He wasn't sure what but what he was sure of? This girl couldn't like him. Not a chance.

"That's a fucking understatement," Wilbur giggles slightly before hiccuping.

"So, William-"

"You can just call me Wil, that's fine."

"Okay, Wil- how's it in the loser group?" Yet another student, there's only about five besides Wilbur, but too many for Wilbur's tipsy mind to make note of at once. The boy's name he seems to remember being Sammy, which he feels doesn't fit him. Chad or Brian would fit the bill and he has to hold back giggles at that thought.

"Loser group?" Wilbur asks almost incredulously, eyebrows knitted in a confused expression.

"Yeah, what's it called- Team Andromeda?" The one with the teacher's pets, those gay kids- everyone knows Andromeda is where the weirdos get placed, y'know?" Something about Sammy's voice started to grind his gears, but his mind was so muddled he couldn't get very angry, so he sighed.

When Sammy mentioned the "gay" kids, it really rattled him. It made his blood boil, he wanted to yell and punch and scream at this kid. But he had to restrain himself, these other guys weren't so bad.

"I don't think they're that bad, I'm on Andromeda." Wilbur shrugs, looking down at the can he holds, trying to keep himself composed and for the most part--it works.

"Well, you aren't one of them. You don't fit there." May pipes in, a sickeningly sweet smile on her face. If it wasn't for how.. icky the conversation made Wilbur felt, the smile would be soft and sweet in his eyes. But his nauseated stomach at the words that cross his ears, skews his view of the word with green tinted glasses.

"Come on, let's not dwell on those kids-- just drink, have fun! Let loose!" Another kid, Dean, speaks up. He feels a lot less.. venomous. He seems kinder and as if he doesn't hold the same hurtful opinions as the others do.

"Why don't we do truth or dare?" Sammy smirks from behind his beer can, eyes glistening with mischief and the mere look makes Wilbur want to projectile vomit, but maybe that's because he's nearly finished off his own beer. Stale piss water.

Wilbur shrugged as various confirmations of agreements are muttered, a few 'sure's and a couple 'alright's were scattered between.

"How about…" Sammy eyes the group and when his attention lands on Wilbur, he smirks, "You, Wil- truth or dare?"

Something sunk into Wilbur's stomach, it felt like all of his internal organs--but it was probably just his heart. This didn't sit right with him, maybe he was being targeted? But his mind was so fogged and swimmy from the alcohol--his beer can was empty and he'd started on a new one. His logic flew out the window long ago.

"Uhm…" Wilbur takes a moment to think or rather, he pauses and looks down, his mind a blank slate without a scratch written. He lifts his head, tilting it to the side for a moment before he slurs confidently, "Dare."

Sammy nods as he eyes Wilbur up and down before he speaks again, much clearer than any words Wilbur could possibly dream to muster, "I dare you…" He trails off as his eyes glance over at May, who was sitting beside Wilbur, "To kiss May."

Wilbur knew it was coming before the words had even been spoken. God, he wished he could erase the entirety of eighth grade from history right about now. He then turned to face May, her cheeks flush pink as she tugs on his sleeve. Everything in his heart was screaming for him to stop, to run away and get as far from this situation that he could. To find you and wrap you in his arms and kiss all over your face and apologize for everything he could've possibly ever done--but his logic is out the window and god-- his body feels like quicksand and he can barely move.

It happens so quickly he doesn't know how it even starts, or who initiated what. But now his lips are on hers and they're kissing and it's much too deep for his liking. He should be kissing you, under lamplight in the dorm, sighs and giggles muffled between lips and mouths. Hands exploring each other innocently and with that sweet spark of love.

Yet instead, here he is with his hand behind May's head, his lips intertwined with hers and her tongue in his mouth. This is horrible, he's decided. He's vowed to never drink again, and never touch lips with anyone but you. But he doesn't stop, he doesn't pull away. He's enticed, he's enraptured by it. Its new, but old. He's kissed her before, not like this of course. But he has kissed May, years ago. This now feels foreign and exciting and new.

That guilt crawls up him, makes him sick and he finally pulls away. His lips curled in a grimace, when May's curl into a smile. His face has a green tint, and hers has a pink sheet of color. They mirror each other in completely opposite ways. She kissed him because she wanted to.

He kissed her because he felt trapped.

It wasn't more than an hour longer that he hung out with them, it got late and there were enough sightings of leadership staff to scare all of them back to the dorms. Which by enough, was two. And they were leaving work. Either way, Wilbur found his way to the side door of the dorm building. The front is always open but Wilbur felt that it was too obvious and he was much too drunk to risk getting caught so he walked over to the side door, hunkered down and texted you.

wilb<3 2:45am // by sidef dooorr, pls get me

you 2:46am // wtf are u doing there??

you 2:46am // be down in a sec, hang tight

He shut his phone off and tucked it in his pocket after smiling at his messages. He leaned against the outer wall and slunk down to the ground. His mind felt like sludge, his body felt like bags of rocks were weighing him down and the way his eyelids kept slipping shut wasn't helping either.

A moment later and his shoulder was being shook by you, eyes shooting open only to glance at your worried expression. Concern plastered on your face and all your eyes saw was a mess of the boy you loved. Face tinted green with splotches of red, eyes glazed over and somehow-- lip gloss on his lips? Its messy and it looks like--

Your heart sinks. He kissed her. Or maybe, she kissed him, he couldn't hurt you like that. Even drunk, he had a heart and logical thinking.

Words weren't spoken as you help him to his feet, practically dragging him to the elevator that no one actually uses but comes in handy now. Your boyfriend's arm slung over your shoulders and his lips messily kissing the side of your hair as his words slur.

"Love you sooo much, baby-" It hurts to hear it, to hear the promises of love as he's so desperately drunk. The elevator is slow so as you hold him beside you, you keep yourself from snapping. Maybe a little prying won't hurt, will it?

"So, what happened?" Your voice is low and soft, a mere whisper as the elevator dings, signifying being on the second floor. Another two to go.

"Mm- Nothin' jus' truth or dare-" He slurs, leaning against you.

"So you didn't kiss May, then?"

Something flips in him, some sort of mild regulator switch flips and he clears his throat. Now leaning away from you as he looks around the elevator, somehow a bit more sober as he speaks, "And if I did?"

"I'd worry about you. I am worried about you."

Ding, third floor. Almost there.

"Its not like it matters, so what if I kissed a girl?" He snips, tone sharp and quick as he fully leans off you, standing on his own almost as if he hadn't a drop of alcohol. You knew that wasn't true, and you hoped he was shit faced drunk when it happened. You knew it happened.

"You'd be cheating if you had. It isn't right, okay?" Your voice is so even, clear and regulated. You keep your composure and his only cracks more.

"Just forget about it, nothing happened. Just leave it the fuck alone." He huffs slightly as the elevator dings and the doors slide open, you both step out and you lead him over to the bathroom to help him clean up just a bit.

It didn't last long when he pulled out of your grasp, "Why don't you just leave me alone and stop prying? Jesus- May was right." He mutters the last part as he stares daggers into you, and you move to walk beside him as he finds his way by your dorm room.

"Can you just tell me what the fuck is wrong?" You're breaking, cracking at the seams more and more as every word of his slips past his lips. Enraging you with every syllable.

And now, with his snarl and angered stare, you felt like an afterthought at that moment, and you wondered if that was his goal. Snapping at you, disregarding your concerns and feelings you were bringing to him. Suits you to argue with a drunk guy.

"You're too fucking obsessed with me anyways-- You're always hanging off me like some desperate lost puppy. I swear- It'd be better if you just left me alone." He rolls his eyes as he stumbles into the dorm, despite his louder than proper reaction, no one stirs or makes any noticeable action.

"I'm obsessed with you and she's not?" Your eyebrows knit in confusion as your lips curl into a frown, frustration boiling up inside you, soon to turn to anger.

He leans against the doorframe, rolling his eyes in a dramatic and drunk way as he huffs, "Yes, yes you are. At least she respects my boundaries," He shrugs as he steps back into the dorm and you feel tears prick at your eyes, frozen in place and boiling with anger, the frustration completely gone. Now you're just hurt.

"She manipulated you and forced you to go out with her and her asshole friends! You want to know something? Those guys you just spent two hours with and had so much fucking fun with? Fucking bullied me since middle school!" You step back, so close to walking away but you need this last word, just something to make him realize, "But you wouldn't know that, would you? You're too in your head to know anything about me!" It seems unrelated, and to him it was. But to you, his words were the last straw. You were done.

"Bullied you? I never took you for the delusional kind."

If it was possible, your jaw would be dislocated and on the floor, but instead you drew your lips into a thin line and let the tears ricochet.

"Fine- Y'know what? Go date May instead- get back with her, see what happens, huh?" Your blood boils as you speak through hot tears and you feel regret surging through you as you shut the door for him, turning on your heel and down the hall. It's a night to sneak into your dad's dorm.

He doesn't wake as you carefully creak the door open, tiptoeing in and finding a spot in the chair in the corner. Not caring or bothering with pillows or blankets, it isn't like you'll be getting much sleep.

Your eyes locked on the walls of the dark room, your mind replaying the last ten minutes like a broken record. You couldn't escape it, the guilt, the fear, the hurt. Your tears were silent but they had no plan of stopping as they fell down your face in clumps of salty water. Your throat felt like it was going to shut, sore and aching as you held back sobs. Your heart felt the same, yet instead of being shut off, it ached like it had been ripped into and at this point, it might as well have been.

Maybe he was right, maybe you were too clingy and 'obsessed' with him. Maybe you did spend too much time around him or too much of your breath speaking about him. All of the maybes ran through your mind like a pack of ants fleeing from the rain. It wouldn't be long until you were full on sobbing and so you did your best to hide your whimpers and breaths of heartache with the sleeves of your sweater--Wilbur's sweater.

You heard a creaking of a bunk, one of the three levels that were in the dorm, you weren't sure which but you still froze in place as a response. You hoped someone was just readjusting but as the lamp beside the bottom bunk clicked on, you realized someone was awake. You knew it was Andy even before you lifted your head to see him. Out of him, your dad and Evan, he was the lightest sleeper. So he'd most likely have been awake since the fight, you knew this but you only hoped that he would turn the other way and ignore it, let you wallow in your heartache.

"Kiddo?" He spoke softly, voice cracking with sleep as he patted the spot beside him on the edge of the bed. You simply eyed his hand, making no move to sit beside him, to get up out of the hole you've fallen into.

He gave you that look, that look only a dad would give you. The one that says "Tell me what's hurting, kid, please?" It's so unspoken, no words being muttered but every meaning and intention still finding it's way into the air and floating around like dust particles--unseen in darkness but when light shines, it's clear as day.

"Wilbur." You mutter it out, voice breaking at the end as another silent sob breaks through and he moves to stand, walking over to you and kneeling in front of you, hands on either side of your legs.

"What did he do?" Andy tilts his head to the side as he looks up at you with worry and concern splattered all over his face.

"He got drunk with those- with May and her friends," You paused as you sucked in a shallow breath, doing your best to calm yourself.

"And?" He prys, but you don't mind. He's just trying to scrape at the layers you've wrapped around your heart and mind, the layers that hide the truth beneath. He's doing a damn good job too.

"He yelled at me, I know he kissed May and- he's so mad at me, Andy. So mad." You know you sound like a broken child, a kid left behind on the playground. You can't help it, it's how you feel. You love Wilbur, you loved him. You gave him your heart and he discarded it in a ditch.

"I heard- I'll set up the trundle, you sleep in my bed, okay? Tomorrow is Saturday so I want you to take some breaths-" He starts instructing you to breathe in deeply and to let it out. He does this with you for a few more seconds until all the tears you have left have dried and you feel a tingling feeling of peace. As much as you can muster. And he smiles, patting your knee and turning around to do as he said he would, setting up the trundle, and then he ushers you over and you settle into the bottom bunk.

"We'll deal with this tomorrow, okay? We'll talk with your dad and Evan, and Cati too. Just rest now, kiddo." He smiles softly before settling into the trundle below and you let your eyes slip shut, welcoming sleep with open arms.

Your last thought before you drifted off, was hope you didn’t have to see Wilbur the next day.

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

#wilbur soot #wilbur soot x reader #cc!wilbur #wilbur #cc!wilbur x reader #wilbur gold #wilbur x reader #wilbur soot imagine #wilbur soot x gn!reader #wilburfromlvjy #dsmp wilbur #wilbur soot x y/n #hurt/comfort #angst #wilbur fanfiction #wilbur imagine #bs au

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strnqer · 2 years

Text

something about you

— pairing: corpse husband x afab!reader

— quote: “did you mean it?”

— warning(s): cursing, hurt/comfort

(𝐲/n) sighed for what felt like the millionth time that day, she was contemplating on wether to post the cover song on her platform or not.

she rubbed her hands on her eyes to rid her of any desperation and replayed the song once more.

in my room,

singing along with you

and my baby

you know that i got you

(y/n) closed her eyes as she leaned back on her gaming chair remembering every face-time call they've had just to listen to music. they'd simply sit and take in each other's presence, corpse' eyes would remain on his screen as he watched her write on her journal or feed her cats(or just breathe), his longing stares would always remain unnoticed seeing as every time (y/n) glanced at the camera she'd be met with the comforting sight of darkness—

not that she minded, she loved seeing his outline, she'd memorized it by how often they'd call just for (y/n) to go on with her day as corpse watched with soft music playing in the background.

it was a safe space for corpse to come to when he needed a small escape from reality, every second spent with her was a moment more where he truly felt happy.

hit the road

i'm taking off with you

not in a hurry

there's something about you

late night drives were the highlight of her day, (y/n) loved how either her or corpse would randomly jump into their car and drive up to the others place to pick them up. most of the time corpse would appear on her doorstep late at night when he couldn't sleep, he'd ask her to take a drive with him—usually with (y/n) driving since she preferred having corpse fall asleep mid song. it'd give her a peace of mind knowing he at least slept for a few minutes with her.

aside from his naps, the air around them would be filled with loud chuckles and spilling of secrets, they'd always have some sort of calming music in the background mostly consisting of piano or guitar. (y/n) could always tell he had the biggest smile on his face underneath his signature face mask, she loved to know he was happy because of her. she loved him.

he looks just like a dream

the prettiest boy i've never seen

from the cover of a magazine

(y/n)'s shaky hand lifted up to press pause once more. she took in a deep breathe, deciding to post it once and for all. what's the worse that could happen?

her fingers moved efficiently across the keyboard, matching black nails that she'd done with corpse clicking against the letters. ' something about you cover — for you, bear; the man i'm fucking in love with ' she'd type, using the same nickname she'd given the older man long ago. (y/n)'s mind drifted back to what this decision might cause, the pain, the loss. . .she took in a deep breathe allowing her mind to relax before allowing herself to upload the video—patience is all that was left.

the video didn't take long to upload, in fact in less then 10 minutes the video was up and running on her youtube—fans had already begun their attacks, many were already suspecting and other were painfully clueless. she received dms and tags on all of her social medias but none were from the man she wanted most.

a few fans began a chain on twitter, they pointed on the fact that she was wearing corpse's hoodie and the painfully obvious one which were the lyrics. (y/n) let out a sigh of relief, everyone was taking it somewhat okay and the weight was finally lifted from her sore shoulders.

the pretty girl lifted herself up from her desk to make her way over to her bed but before she could even move a muscle the familiar ringtone flared noisily through the air. she winced at the sudden noise but accepted her fate, and with a shaky hand she answered corpse's call.

heavy breathing filled the tense atmosphere that surrounded the pair, no one dared to say a word. "cor—"

"do you mean it." corpse's voice ripped through her like a cut to the heart and suddenly everything became much more realistic. there really was a chance she'd loose him.

"i mean it." (y/n)'s voice wavered slightly, she shut her eyes tightly waiting for his rejection to come but nothing came. his heavy breathing filled her thoughts before suddenly it disappeared, she snapped her eyes open only to see he'd ended the call. . she should have expected it, she shouldn't have done it. words of rejection filled her head, voices flared their thoughts around her and loud ringing made its way to her ears. she was dying. she couldn't do anything about it, she felt herself explode yet nothing had happened, she still remained in the quiet room, everything was in order.

(y/n) lifts her hand as if to delete the video but decides against it knowing that it'd cause problems among their fans.

an hour passed, she'd lost any and all hope she had.

two. suddenly she was hyperventilating, the song she'd sang so lovingly for her best friend played over and over again in the background. large, hot tears made their way down her face, leaving a wet trail in their wake. she sobbed and sobbed yet no one heard, her heart hurt inside of her chest, she didn't feel a thing. a knock ripped through the moody air and straight into her chest, she stood, hope evident in her dull eyes as she walked over to her door. she hesitated slightly, her hand pulled back to wipe away her tears and runny mascara.

corpse waited patiently outside of her door. he had paced around his room in the brinks of a panic attack, the only person that could help him through it wasn't there—he was in disbelief, he felt stupid for how he ended the call. he couldn't imagine how terrible she felt at that moment, he punched himself repeatedly, over and over. he couldn't say those simple fucking words over the phone. he needed to tell her. corpse had determinedly made his way over to her apartment.

the door creaked open only to uncover her, oh how he wished he came sooner.

her eyes were rimmed with red, purple ish bags were already forming underneath her eyes from all the stress she—he had put her through along with the furious scrubs of her sweater clad hands against her weak features.

he despised himself. the way he felt now seeing her in such a fragile state pained him to the rim. he wished only to make it right and hoped that he wouldn't make a fool out of himself for trying.

upon opening the door the weight on her heart multiplies, the man of her dreams stood a few inches away wearing the same stupid mask he wears out in public that she unknowingly adored.

(y/n) takes in a deep breathe while pacing along her thoughts for words.

"i- what're you doing here corpse?" her voice broke slightly off at the end and the man whom it was directed to winced.

"i had to come see you.." her eyes casted to her feet before she took a few steps back into the comfort of her home, allowing him to move in and shut the door behind him.

as if he were in a trance, corpse practically ripped his mask off along with his beanie, then throwing it somewhere in the room.

as if on instinct (y/n)'s eyes cast down to the floor, suddenly the small cracks seemed interesting. she felt the taller man walk up in front of her which caused her muscles to tense. "look at me." he demanded, yet his voice was far from stern and his hands which now rested on her cheeks were far too gentle.

her eyes slowly trailed up his figure until they finally met his eyes. she took her time in memorizing his perfect features. he was everything she's imagined him to be and much more.

the slight tremor in corpse hands didn't go unnoticed, she gently placed her own hands on top of his, uttering those three little words that had corpse flush like a little kid. "you're so gorgeous"

his hands moved swiftly and efficiently as he pressed her against his body. his back hunched over as he shoved his face in the crook of her neck. (y/n) gently stroked his back as he took her in, "d. . .did you mean it?"

"i-i did." she took in a huge breathe, her muscles slowly tensing underneath his weight and soon he was laughing. laughing.

she closed her eyes, heavy tears building up and piling over as she waited for his rejection. but it never came.

corpse moved away from her for a split second before his lips came crashing down to hers, the salty mix of both their tears caused them to smile and soon enough the contagious sound of laughter forced its way out of their throats and their lips were no longer able to meet.

corpse held her tight, and she held on just as tightly.

a childlike demeanor overcomes the darker male as he excitedly asks her to sing the song to him.

(y/n) nods with a loving smile on her face as she sits on the beanbag with her guitar.

corpse on the other hand has the widest smile he's ever had, his cheeks were almost strained and red from the amount of happiness he displayed for her, yet there he was,

asking her to play it again and again as he listened to her talking so lovingly about him.

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@georgesbee

#imagines #corpse #corpse husband #oneshot #hurt/comfort #dsmp #dsmp fanfic #gaming #gamer #handsome #hand kink #writers on tumblr #self insert #x reader

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