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rgbstatic · 1 year

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i think in both regards to story, and in terms of meta/real life

doomsday and the destruction of l’manberg killed the server.

whether people were for or against or apart of l’manberg or not, it was a gathering point that brought people together to talk. it was a place people would hang out. it was a place with lots of chests to steal food and supplies from. in new l’manberg so so many people spent their time their even if they were completely unaffiliated or lived somewhere else.

storywise when it was destroyed, the story just lost a central characteristic for conflict, and a very important thing. l’manberg wasn’t just a place. it was ideals it was imagery, it was a goal, it was safety it was so many things, and with it gone with no hopes of returning, no matter how many new places people built they were all empty and never the same.

and with it gone everyone literally had to go their own ways. everyone who gathered there went far far away to make their own homes.

on a meta standpoint, people like talk about how much they miss old dream smp streams and that’s because of the non serious lore streams. where walking down a path and bumping into someone could lead to goofing off or serious talks.

where tommy could build a pathway from manberg to pogtopia for prime and for the upcoming rebellion, and get caught by a vice president who decided it was his day off and he was going to roleplay as a mcdonald’s worker.

it’s how you have tommy and tubbo goofing off on the server not doing lore, only for schlatt to see and they go lore mode and have to make up a pregnancy excuse.

it’s how you got silly serious moments. it’s also just straight up how you had people interact. if everyone lived hundreds of blocks away, it’s harder to just randomly run into each other while building or running to do something, meaning you’re less likely to talk, and less likely for anything to happen.

when l’manberg acted as a central hang out spot, people built their homes in close proximity, they would stick around the area and things naturally happened.

destroying l’manberg was, in my opinion, the worst thing they could have done. doomsday did very very little narratively to the story. the community house gathering did more to the story than doomsday did. and it was awful because tommy rallied people behind him to fight in doomsday not for him, but because if they could do this to l’manberg what would stop them from doing it to every other group.

and everyone fought, and despite an entire server fighting it was pointless.

the only thing doomsday did was force people to hide. and you can make claims for ranboo who went to live with phil and techno- but ranboo’s character arcs could’ve had a very similar outcome by staying with almost anyone else.

no l’manberg ultimately just drove everyone away, and there was never any serious or successful move to make anything on that server take its place, to fill the hole, so there was nothing to actively pull things together. no driving force or motivation, nothing to supply passive roleplay, nothing to bring people together.

everyone lost on doomsday. that loss of l’manberg meant no one could ever win again. just think about it. after doomsday, it was loss after loss.

the final disc confrontation? tommy and tubbo lost. they were rescued, but they lost their fight, and it was a trap anyway.

dream in prison? well he has punz on the outside, doesn’t matter, and he can control ranboo, and he still got to kill tommy AND ghostbur. it was a loss. and he escaped.

every single fight after. quackity lost, wilbur lost, tommy and tubbo lost again, and again. the server for everyone ended in a loss.

there was not ever a win again. usually in stories, after losses, you want something good to happen to make those hardships worth it. just like when good things happen you want bad things to happen to make it worth it, you need a balance.

think of the revolution. the up and down rollercoaster. the freedom into war into loss and death into hope into loss into compromise into win.

the election was a nail biting race where depending on who you voted for, was lose and a win. for tommy and wilbur it was a loss, but they quickly gathered things up, they had hope, and they had energy, and a plan, and techno joined and they were confident. there were ups and downs up until doomsday, afterword no character seemed to get an up. any positive was immediately trivialized. for example tommy’s decided to try and heal and make a hotel which was immediately turned into a problem where people tried to fight him over it and then he died. or he got a pet that made him happen and everyone tried to set it free or kill it. he finally starts to feel safe no relax and dream breaks loose, and he is endlessly stalked the entire time, and he dies alone with his abuser and his abuser’s accomplice.

there is never an up after doomsday, and killing l’manberg that day killed the dream smp.

#dream smp #dsmp #tommyinnit #wilbur soot #l’manberg #doomsday #rgb talking #dsmp analysis #long post

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lillylvjy · 11 months

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wait- ghost?!

a/n- hey! Long time- um. Here’s the ghost au! I had no clue what to title this so, I may change it in a little bit! But this will be a series, I already have part 2 done! Hopefully people like this- but yeah! Enjoy!

Warnings// death, murder, ghost, knife (also being thrown), blood mentioned once, brief mention of reader being short (they just can’t reach something), Wilbur being a flirt, Tommy being Tommy, mentions of food and if there’s anything else, please tell me!

Edited- yes!

wc- 1.3k

You were new to the neighborhood, so no wonder why people were looking out their windows when you arrived with a moving van. Or maybe it’s because someone actually wanted to live in the house that everyone avoided because of its past.

A couple years ago, a man in his early 20’s, along with his brother, got brutally murdered in the same exact house you were now standing in. And it was yours. Nothing seemed off, but you can definitely feel a sense of sadness and anger. ‘From what?’ people may ask, but you didn’t really know yourself. All you know is that the parents moved across the world after the incident, wanting to get far away from the place that caused them so much hurt. Which is understandable.

But here you were. In that house, standing in the middle of an empty, soon to be, living room. Smiling at the ideas running through your head as you started unboxing things.

You had drug all the furniture in and placed them randomly around the room for now until you got to decorating.

You quickly made work as you unboxed everything for the bathroom, your bedroom, and anything else you had for the time being. You saved the kitchen for last, knowing that’d take you the most time with how much stuff you have from your parents and other family members.

As you started to unpack all the kitchenware you had, you quickly were made aware of your surroundings.

“Well hello!” You jumped as you heard a deep, british voice come from behind you. Quickly grabbing a knife from the holder on the counter, you turned around to see a man, brown curly hair sitting on top of his head with a grey crewneck and black jeans on, probably somewhere in his early 20’s, smiling at you.

“Who- who are you?!” You asked, pointing the knife at him as to defend yourself. Yet all he did was laugh and shake his head.

“You don’t know who I am?! Also sweetheart, you can put that down. That won’t do anything for you.” The man said as he stood up from the chair he sat in, standing taller than you thought he would, pointing at the knife. Before he could take another steps forward, you threatened him once more.

“I swear- I’m not afraid to use this! Don’t come any further!” You shakingly told the tall man in front of you.

“Darling I promise that won’t do anything-“ as he started to take another step forward, you threw the knife at him. The knife ended up lodged into his stomach. He froze and looked at you with the most disappointed face you’ve ever seen.

“Ow? Seriously sweetheart, what do you want me to say?!” He questioned as he took the knife out of his stomach. It was clean. He was clean. No blood on the knife nor soaking up his shirt.

“What the hell-“ you said as you looked at him with wide eyes and furrowed eyebrows.

“Don’t look so scared! It’s not as bad as it looks, I promise.” The guy tried to joke but you just shook your head and rubbed your eyes, wanting to get out of this fucked up dream.

“This isn’t real, this isn’t real-“ you repeated as you turned towards the sink and splashed water on your face.

“What’s not real? Me?! Because let me tell me you darling-“ you quickly jumped back from the sink, now seeing the stranger sitting on the counter next to it. “Don’t be so jumpy love, I don’t bite- I mean, unless you want me too.”

You rolled your eyes and quickly shook your head to gather your thoughts. “Ok- you better explain what’s going on and fast.”

The man sighed and hoped down from the counter. “How about introductions first yeah? We got off at the wrong foot. I’m William Watson-Gold. You may call me Wilbur or Wil, either is fine.” Wilbur said as he stepped closer to you. You moved back, bumping into the island and grasping the counter as if it’d protect you from this super attractive man in front of you. “What’s your name sweetness?” He smirked as he leant down to meet your eyes.

“Y/n.” You replied with a monotoned voice, not wanting him to know the effect he had on you so fast.

Wilbur’s smirk turned into one of a smile in ways. His eyes stared into yours as almost to examine who you were and what your backstory was. Like he wanted to get to know you. But he quickly snapped out of his head and took a few steps back, the smirk being thrown back on his face as he looks in the living room.

“You can come out now Tom.” Wil yelled out as you quickly turned to the entrance of the kitchen.

“Fucking finally- you need to stop flirting with them! It’s very uncomfortable to watch!” The boy, Tom, complained as he hopped onto the island counter.

“Ok- what the fuck?!” You yelled as you waved your hands around, trying to figure out what was going on in your home.

“Wait- do they not know we’re-“

“Dead? No, I haven’t gotten there yet. Now continuing my explanation- Me and Tom here are the two unfortunate men that got murdered in this house. We’ve been stuck in this shit hole ever since with very little human interaction besides each other.” Wilbur explained as he leant against the refrigerator.

“Which is why he’s being so flirty with yo- ow!” Tom yelled out as Wilbur punched his arm and glared at him.

“So- you two are, dead?”

“As dead as dead gets.” Wilbur said as he picked up one of the apples you just placed in the fruit bowl and bit into it. “Fuck- I forget how good food taste sometimes!”

“Wait-“ you went up to Wilbur and grabbed his hands, feeling the coldness his body carried with him. You were thinking your hand would go right through him like the shows portray- but your hand stayed perfectly in his. Wilbur would never admit it, but it felt like your hand was meant to be in his. Like it was a puzzle piece that fit perfectly together. “Then how can I touch you? Isn’t my hand supposed to like- go through you or some shit?”

“Stupid movies. No. That shit isn’t real! But us- we are as real as it gets.” Tom said as he took a bite out of the apple Wil stole.

You nodded as you slowly let go of Wilbur’s hand, looking up at him to see his eyes furrowed and almost saddened at the thought of losing that warmth you provided him.

As you both continued to look at each other, not wanting to let the serene moment go, Tom noticed the silence and looks up at the two. Rolling his eyes, his hopped of the counter and stood in between the two and turned to look at Wilbur.

“I’m going to my room- it finally has a bed again and I need my beauty sleep. And for god sake Wil, STOP FLIRTING!” Tom yelled down the stairs. Wilbur scoffed as he looked down at the floor, hiding his face from as it turned red.

“Um- so you guys are just going to be here? With me?” You asked as you went back to unloading everything. Wilbur cleared his throat as he looked back up at you, seeing how you struggled to get the cup on the highest shelve. He smiled and went over to you, grabbing the cup and placing it for you. “Thanks.”

“Yeah, no problem. And yeah, unfortunately. But! We can be somewhat fun! At least you won’t be alone.” Wilbur stated as he moved out of the room and turned to look at you. “I’ll let you be for now darling. Just call my name if you need anything.” Wilbur nodded his head as he walked towards the stairs, disappearing once he passed the wall.

He did have a point. At least you won’t be alone. That was the one thing that worried you.

But , how the hell are you supposed to live with two-

Ghost.

taglist: @deadphantomsociety @jadeissues @sixofshadowandbone @z3ro-to-h3ro @gaytoadwithapopsicle @art3m1s-adelia @mcr-pr-fob @romancingdaffodils @swevenne @maarriiii @ella-fella-bo-bella @opheliq @mysticalsoot @anon-duck (if you wanna be added, all ya have to do is ask lovelies!)

#lilly writes #wilbur soot #wilbur soot x reader #wilbur soot imagine #dsmp wilbur #wilburfromlvjy #wilbur x reader #wilbur x you #wilbur mcyt #x reader

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wildpeachfarm · 1 month

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Hi! I hope you’re doing good

I’ve seen a few anons mention how it’s okay to only be here for Dream/dteam. And how a lot of the other Minecraft-based CCs are seemingly jealous of all the success Dteam have had, and think that deplatforming them will make way for us to move to their content. And I want to say I agree.

I became a fan of (dream first, then SNF) them in 2020 when it was peak Covid time. I was a sophomore in college, and my brother was in kindergarten; I was trying to find things to relate with him, and stumbled into the Minecraft sphere, cause he likes Minecraft. I was hoping to find someone current and semi-child friendly, and I stumbled upon dreams videos. I watched them first before showing them to my little brother, and after deciding I liked them, we now watch dreams videos together.

As someone who had limited access to the internet as a kid, and knows like next to nothing about Minecraft, I’m really only here for Dteam. Cause I enjoy their content and it brought my brother and I closer. If I stop being a fan of Dteam, I’m honestly probably going to just leave the Minecraft sphere altogether, considering Dteam are what’s keeping me here (not that I haven’t met some amazing people, but you get what I mean).

It’s very telling the agenda of these CCs the more I become offline and take a look at the bigger picture. I said this earlier, but their content is based on a fleeting hatred for the internets current punching bag. If they ever stop expressing hatred or, god forbid, Dteam get deplatformed, all the “fans” they think they had will be gone. Because with no common perceived enemy, there’s nothing keeping them tied to those creators. And so they’ll go back to whatever they were doing before-hand.

I wanted to extend some semblance of sympathy to these CCs, cause it’s really hard to make a career out of this, but they’re also going about it the wrong way, and my sympathy doesn’t exist anymore. If the only content you have is performative activism, then maybe you should consider a different career path.

Adding on to that, let’s say I do stop watching Dteam, or the “behind the scenes” stuff wasn’t just petty grievances. Why would I then go watch the people that have been harassing, bullying, threatening the same people I was just a fan of the entire time I was their fan? If dteams morals are so bad, what makes theirs any better? And why would I support theirs, when I wouldn’t support someone else’s bad morals? (Again, hypothetical, cause I’m still a fan and all the “bts” stuff ARE petty grievances).

They’re so blinded by their hatred and jealousy that they cannot see they’re destroying their own careers with this. There’s a reason outside of Twitter, a lot of people don’t know who these creators are, and the only reason they do is because they stick their noses everywhere.

It’s become apparent the last few weeks that outside of Twitter- where their core fanbase IS NOT- people are seeing these CCs for what they are and it’s driving them away from any content they might produce. They’re driving away potential fans acting like this, and they can’t even see it, cause they’re so focused on dteam (mainly dream). Maybe focus on your own career, before trying to take down someone else’s, especially when you have nothing career-ending over them.

So again, why would I stop being a fan of people I liked for so long, and stuck around for the good, bad, ugly, and sometimes dangerous (gotta love doxxing /sar), to immediately go be a fan of people that contributed to the absolute onslaught of horrid treatment of the people I was a fan of? It doesn’t make sense.

Unlike them, I’m not going to compromise my morals and make a big public spectacle to then privately do the opposite. I dropped Wilbur after Shelby came out with her story. I was more than willing to drop Dream if his allegations were proven correct, and the same goes for George. That’s what these CCs don’t understand. I’m a human first before I’m a fan. And that humanity stays with me wherever my interests take me.

Sorry it’s so long; I know you probably have a lot of asks. But still appreciate you taking the time to read this anyway.

Have a good day, my favorite source of tea!

-L :)

Thank you for sharing L ! I think you bring up some very good points about consuming content/CCs and just Being A Person

#ask #anon #anti drummyache tag

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obliqueblade · 2 months

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There are no words, nothing I could write that hasn't been said to properly convey how emotions and response that I had to the news about what Shubble had to go through.

As someone not on Twitter, and not an avid watcher of Shelby, I didn't hear about her video until several days after it was posted by a friend of mine, who told me that people suspected Wilbur.

And at that time, I did not want to believe it.

My immediate reaction was disbelief, and then I thought people on Twitter were saying things just to say things. I knew Shelby had not named her abuser, because she was not in a position where she could. The internet is rarely benevolent when victims come forward.

But this was someone I had watched during my cancer treatments. This was someone whose music I listened to, to drown out the sounds of my illness. This is someone I cried with and for after the loss of Technoblade. Now, after his passing, I had stopped watching that entire side of mcyt. I moved on to Hermitcraft, Empires, and the Life series, I stopped using Twitter because it's Twitter, and when the various members of the DSMP were caught doing something, It just further solidified my decision.

But this was someone I had supported. The idea that I had allowed myself to be manipulated into that situation was almost unbearable.

But the more I thought about it, the more I remembered things from back during the DSMP ear, the more uncomfortable I got. The more I remembered people he was "close" with describing him as manipulative, the amount of younger people he constantly interacted with, and the dynamics he created around them.

Even without his "apology" I realized that, yes, he was manipulative. And the horrible thing about it is that you never really notice when that manipulation occurs. It's why at least at first, I gave the benefit of the doubt.

Because "surely not".

But this is not about those things. It's not about how I feel in regard to the news, nor is it about how his old friend will respond. It's about the abuse that he did and the power kick he got from keeping his victims silent.

Wilbur Soot is an abuser.

Shelby, and lord knows who else are his victims. The horrible realization that while I was supporting someone they were intentionally hurting people weaker than them like Techno and Shelby feels like a sucker punch.

And the worst part is that, at the end of the day I cannot even say that he is sorry, because he is not. he does not take accountability. He does not apologize. He states that "he changed", which is easy to say without having to prove. Especially, when you cannot even apologize.

Wilbur is not "canceled". He's an abuser.

Shelby is incredibly strong for coming forward, and I hope that she can heal with the support and love that she deserves.

I'm also sorry, Shelby. I waited in the hope of "surely not", and that's not fair or right to Shelby or any victim of abuse. I've seen some posts about how those who supported him had no way of knowing, but this can be ... hard to accept personally. I don't mean to say it's the communities fault, because we really did not have a way to know.

It's important to know, that no matter how well you think you "know" a creator- you don't.

I don't want anyone to come away from this and think that I am in any way still in support of anything that man has created or done over the years. This includes channels, collabs, music, and certain bands with connections to him.

This is firmly a Shelby support account.

For those who still side with him; I am truly sorry that you are unable to see through his manipulation, but I hope that one day you will. I hope that you can gain the ability to see through these horrible actions of cruelty before you find yourself in a situation where you are the victim.

I'm so sorry Shelby.

#shelby #shubble #shit ass apology #support shubble #shubblesupportsquad #tw abuse #wilbur soot

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kianaisspiraling · 2 months

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Wish we could turn back time to when things were still okay.

Wish Techno was still here, and I wish Wilbur wasn't a shitty person.

I miss when there were four SBI. Permanently stuck at 2/4 now.

I'd rather say 2/3, actually. Wilbur doesn't deserve to be there.

Fuck Wilbur. I hope nothing else falls apart, I may not watch this side of mcyt anymore, but every time something happens, another piece of my inner child dies.

Condolences to everyone who grieves for Techno, to everyone that Wilbur hurt, and to everyone who feels like their world is crumbling because of all of this.

I miss when the dsmp was my comfort space. Sometimes, I wish I never got into the dsmp at all because of how all the recent incidents have affected me, but I ultimately don't think I regret it. The good memories are now tainted by bad, but that doesn't mean there's no good to be found. You're allowed to feel sad that it's over and a big mess now, but remember to be happy for the good it gave you then. Not all is bad, and you are not alone. I hope everyone, no matter who they are, remembers that.

You're allowed to feel sad about missing Wilbur, but remember that the person you are missing is who you thought he was, not really him. Wilbur Soot was a facade, and behind it was William Gold, who is a horrible person. This isn't about him, though. It is about Shelby and everyone else that he hurt and manipulated. To all of his ex-friends and family. He won't truly apologize for what he did, but I'm sorry he did it. I'm sorry for supporting a liar, I hope to never make that mistake again, but you can never know anymore who's real. I'm sorry that I still hear his songs in my head, I wish I could hear something else.

I still don't really know what to do with myself, and that's okay. I need to remember that one day I will. This isn't the end, and this is ultimately an enlightenment. I'd rather know about it than not, even if it makes me feel gross. This is only the end for Wilbur, which makes me glad. It's also a new beginning for everyone he hurt. It doesn't feel okay now, but recovery doesn't start off good, nor is it linear. It may not be okay right now, and it will never always be okay, but it will be okay again one day. I'm not ready to let go yet, but I will anyway, because that's the first step to learning to be okay. I'm sorry to Shubble, and everyone he lied to, including his fans. None of them deserved that. The people that he built his career off of didn't deserve that.

I don't know how to end this. I don't know how I started this. I just need to put this somewhere, or I'm going to lose my mind. I know logically I shouldn't've been this attached to him, but that doesn't change the fact that I was and that it hurts. I don't know how to feel. I don't know what to do. All I know is fuck Wilbur and support Shelby and his other victims.

I hope you can have a good day/night despite all of this, but if not, that's okay. Remind yourself that you will have good days again. Just have to wait for them.

#support shubble #fuck wilbur soot #i hope everyone is doing okay #it will be better #i hope to one day be able to look back on the dsmp as the child i was then #not the worn down person I've been recently #remember to take care of yourself #don't feel bad if you need to step away from all of this #that's okay #no matter what you do after this #all i ask is that you DO NOT support wilbur soot #once again try your best to have a good day/ night #i'm tired of seemingly everyone and everything turning out to be horrible

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lmanburg · 2 months

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happy (late) valentine's day @elveneclipse! this is a highly experimental mashup of candy cards + a small fanfic. i hope you enjoy! (@mcyt-valentines)

basic summary: DSMP candy cards/fanfic. Wilbur needs to send out valentines cards to a distant relative. He pulls tommy along for the job. eight candy cards w/ a word count: 930.

“Why are we writing these stupid things again? Corbin Trove sound like a fake name, is this tax fraud? Are you making me commit a crime again Wil?”

Wilbur glanced up from where he was finishing pasting photos onto card-stock. Tommy was sitting on the counter to the left of him, legs swinging while he fiddled with the lighter display. He looked tremendously bored. Outside the heavy winds battered against the gas-station doors, though the inside was blessedly warm. Management can’t skimp out on the temperature system when your building acts as a desert shelter.

“For Valentine's day. For my distant cousin. On my Mom’s side.”

“I thought your Mom was a fridge.”

“No. She died. I only ever saw her on the fridge. That’s where the joke came from.”

“Oh.”

He finally glued down the last photo of Tommy to the card, a younger one, from L’manburg. He looked cute.

“Why do you want to send them cards if they’re distant?”

“So I can update them. Let him know I’m alive. I was going to do that for all my relatives but turns out I only have one.” He held out four red cards for Tommy to take. “Here. These are yours.”

“Why do I have to be involved?” Tommy whined.

“You’re my brother, aren’t you? You should be involved then.” Tommy stared back at Wilbur with an unreadable face. Blank, suspicious. Wilbur had forced himself to get used to those.

Tommy snatched them out of Wilbur’s hands with a sour face and dug out a colored pencil from his cargo shorts. “Fine, I’ll do 'em. But I won't make em good. Or nice. Or proper. Or-”

“Stop stalling. Just sign the cards bud.”

He thinks this is easy, doesn't he. He can write just about anything and make it sound good, even now. I’m not like that Wilbur. I’m scared. Chaotic. What if you don’t like me. He wants me to write to you. I don’t know how. He wants this to start the new normal but he abandoned me even though he didn't really leave me because I can visit but that means leaving. I can’t leave where I’m living you’ve got to understand that it’s apart of my fuckedness. The fuckery in me brains. Can’t leave home can’t hate people can’t be nice can’t be good. You don’t want to hear from me I‘ve got nothing good to show or say or do or be or-

“Tommy,” Wilbur said softly. He rested his hand on Tommy’s shoulder concerned at the far-away look in his eyes. Tommy did that too often. Wilbur had hoped when he left he’d have found someone else who could show him how to de-fuck himself. He guessed he’d been wrong.

Tommy jerked and stared at Wilbur with large eyes. “Hm?”

“Whatever you put in will be fine. Don’t think about it too hard, just sign them.”

“Okay.” Tommy said. He hopped off the counter and knelt on his knees signing his cards on the dirty linoleum floor. Wilbur sighed.

“Why are we sending them pictures of our faces? Seems a bit self-centered Wilba!” Tommy accentuated the ending syllable of his name, which is how Wilbur knew he was feeling better. At least marginally.

“It’s so they know what we look like. And I don’t know, maybe.”

Silence. Wilbur fiddled with the ends of his own cards, laminated, with type-writer lettering instead of handwriting. Wilbur didn’t like feeling pens in his hands anymore.

“Wouldn’t this have worked better as a Christmas card?”

“Well I missed Christmas, Tommy. So.”

Tommy didn’t respond, just went back to writing and kicking his feet in the air. Wilbur knew his cardigan would get dirty with sand and general car-floor grime. He wondered if dry-cleaning would be worth it.

“Okay, I’m done!” Tommy crowed. “Let's compare. I bet mine’s way cooler than your lame ugly valentines day card.”

Wilbur chuckled softly as he inspected the sets side-by-side. “I’m sure they are.”

Tommy cringed. “Wow, these suck Wilbur.”

“What! I think these are perfectly fine.”

“They’ve got no personality! No heart.It’s just your name over and over again.”

“I think the dick monument has plenty of personality.”

“That’s not what I meaannnn Wilbaaa,” Tommy dragged out his syllables into a whine as he fell and leaned his whole torso onto the counter. “You’ve not told them why you want to write to them! What else is the point of sending these if you haven’t given them a reason?”

“I didn’t think I needed one.” Wilbur answered plainly. Tommy puffed out his cheeks and laid his limbs dangling over either side of the counter.

“Well now mine look dumb. Gimmie ‘em back.” He said, reaching for his stack.

“Nuh-uh,” Wilbur said, dangling them out of reach of Tommy’s grabby hands. “They’re cute, he’ll love them.”

“But they look stupid next to yours with no message on themmmm” Tommy whined further.

“If I promise to add something to mine will you let me send them anyways?”

Tommy glared at Wilbur upside down, face slightly red from the blood rush and cheeks still puffed in indignation. Times like this Wilbur forgot Tommy had aged beyond the little twelve year old he’d found behind a laboratory trash can. God, could Tommy drink now in the states?

“Okay. Fine. But only if you promise.”

Wilbur smiled indulgently, holding out a single pinky finger. “I promise.”

Later that night, true to his word, he had added something with his typewriter over the plastic lining. It had meant sending them out the next day when they would arrive a little late, but it had been worth it. At least, Wilbur hoped it had.

[A/N: THATS IT. THAT'S THE WHOLE THING SORRY IT'S SO SHORT. I hope you like it! If this isn't what you were looking for I 100% understand this was very experimental. I'll be happy to work on a replacement gift for you!! Happy Valentines Day :D ]

#longpost #cwilbur #ctommy #dsmp fanfic #crimeboys #mcyt valentines

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monsterritory · 1 year

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AU Anon here! I really want that prize. So, Imma guess….

I have three guesses.

One is that Dream kills Wilbur and carries a very terrified Tommy off for some save the forest shenanigans.

Two is that Dream, interested in both Tommy and Wilbur, agrees to play nice if they help him protect nature. Wilbur agrees, Tommy does not. Neither give a shit and live as this toxic family group.

Three is that Dream kills them both just cause.

Throwing a few stones hoping that one will land in the right spot, aren't we? Well well well...

I'll give it to you, one did land. And I'm in a benevolent mood. You get the prize.

The true ending that I like is the one where they just kinda... live together now.

Tommy sends letters to his parents without return address. He can't go back to his old town because he kinda is the face of a killer who slaughtered the innocent. But it was time to leave the nest anyways, and Wilbur is kind of an okay roommate, so he's content.

Wilbur is just glad he can finally split the rent with someone- I mean, Wilbur eventually grows to see Tommy as a brotherly figure.

As for Dream. Well, he did "lose his powers". Possibly? So that's probably the only reason he isn't killing the two brothers at the first instance-

Yeah, why would an almighty forest spirit grow attached to some random humans? That's kind of silly... but maybe life is silly.

In the end they learn to coexist and live happily ever after.

The end.

...Welp. The story's over. Nothing else to do here...

...On to the next one!

#crime boys #prime boys #Tommyinnit #Wilbur Soot #Dreamwastaken #Dream SMP #Forest Spirit AU #Dreambur #cuddling #Yes that's their nest

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ryuseiphilia · 2 months

Text

FIRST POST WOOO!!!! however, i did not expect my first ever post to be me being shocked about the internet lately...

this post is somewhat of a literary analysis (that no one asked for) on wilbur soot's "apology" that was initially posted to twitter.

WARNINGS ;; talking about abusive behaviour in a relationship , nothing else..?

first of all, wtf is going on with that wilbur soot guy? i've heard of him before since my friend watches him but recently on twitter all i've seen is messy apologies, proof of horrid behaviour, and straight up abuse. yeah yeah, twitter does have the common ground of cancelling people but this isn't even cancelling. this shit is actually straight up abuse and there's so much about wilbur's behaviour towards shelby (i think that's her name?) and his aggressive behaviour towards other streamers he is/was friends with.

i can't say much on the topic of streamers since i don't watch any and i'm just a quirked up enstarrie, but all this baffles me. also his apology... let me just whip it out because oh my gee what is this shit... correction, actually, it isn't an apology at all. it is evident in the text that he is avoiding anything to do with a proper apology. the "apology" itself seems to have been written on a whim, with no sense of direction other than to simmer down the situation and make him, wilbur, to be less of a bad guy in this situation. also wilbur, you could've picked a better font than that buddy.

his apology starts off with a sense of composure, and the writing is decent. however the hook to his apology letter starts with the time frame and the allegations made instead of starting off with accountability. his second sentence tries to give emphasis that he won't disregard anyone's feelings on this situation. let's just keep in mind that this is evidently a lie of sorts (funnily enough). next he expresses how he has taken his sweet sweet time to give us this statement from him.

he then goes on about the ending chapters of his relationship with shelby, saying that he truly was being a little maniac in the last moments. i won't go on much about this second paragraph since it's just him trying to justify himself as a changed individual when that really is not evident in clips of what he's done to other people/others discussing him.

the third paragraph is really where we take a bite from the inedible whopper he has conjured. it speaks about the main topic of this whole drama; the abuse. "Throughout our relationship, I understood from our numerous conversations and text message exchanges on the subject, that this behaviour was consensual, playful and reciprocally enjoyed.". well, wilbur, it clearly was not. also let me point out how this man has yapped this entire apology and dragged out every topic to make his points sound professionally written. the second half of the first paragraph consists of how he's oh-so respectful of privacy and oh-so sympathetic to the people who are angry at him. the two points of addressing the allegations and his one-sentence apology are in the same paragraph. he ends this mighty big mac of a paragraph with "I want to extend my sincerest apologies for any pain that I caused.". buddy, you lost me at "want to". clearly, this sounds forced. just because he wants to doesn't mean he is. if you want to apologize like a true grown ass man, you have to learn how to phrase it to sound at least a bit more genuine. all the ways he's phrased his sentences has made it seem as though he's trying very hard to convey words that can earn a shred of sympathy from others.

the fourth and final paragraph wraps this whole short letter up into an ugly bouquet with flowers on the verge of wilting. the first sentence highlights his (obviously false) willingness to understand and address the victim and anyone else's concerns. then more yapping about how he hopes people will consider his perspective useful to this whole situation. well by golly, mate, no! the last ever sentence is just him trying to paint himself as someone who's going through the most insane character development arc ever. no. just... no.

i know my perspective on wilbur's horrid apology is not as note-worthy as those who have known about this man for a while, but i am simply just highlighting things from a literature perspective. i am sorry if this isn't helpful or if anything i said has been interpreted wrong.

unrelated note: i was literally listening to "shippuu jinrai shinobi michi" on loop this whole time HELP ME

#wilbur soot #mcyt #internet drama #literary analysis #idk how to tag #idk #help #help me #first post #yay #enstars #but it's kind of unrelated to enstars #dawg idk #shubble

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bonesandthebees · 10 months

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Tommy is very interesting this chapter. We don’t see a lot of him though because of the chores. And that made me very happy because it allows for not only sandduo, but alsoo rain duo. I am truly living my best life. Still there’s some nice crimeboys too.

I love how Tommy simultaneously does and doesn’t know Wilbur well. He can instantly tell something is off. He might have heard Wilbur through the door though. I feel like he assumes that it’s because of Techno, which is a fair assumption since he can’t exactly guess the vision.

It does say a lot about Tommy that he instantly assumes that it’s Techno’s fault and is ready to tell him off. Some of that is probably his own frustration with his chores. It’s also because Tommy doesn’t know that Techno knows how old Wilbur ism because I don’t think that’s something Wilbur would tell him. So then Tommy has no way to know that Techno would be gentler.

So most of this is Tommy working with what he assumes happened even if it’s wrong. And because Wilbur is trying to avoid talking about the vision he ends up lying which ‘proves’ that Tommy was ‘right’. I do hope he figures that the vision is why Wilbur was upset in the morning by the end of the chapter, but there’s no way to know.

Then there’s Wilbur comparing Tommy to Schlatt and I am living for this. Part of it is Wilbur’s trauma from Schlatt not listening to him. Now that he considers telling someone else he starts to wonder if they’d even listen to him. And because it’s Tommy that is a genuine question. Which is the other part of this comparison.

Would Tommy try to override a vision because he knows better? I think the answer in this case is no. He’s not going to play with his own safety because of how terrified Wilbur is even if he doesn’t necessarily like or trust Clara.

(1/2)

-🌲

I honestly didn't intend to have tommy so absent for the past few chapters but it just kind of turned out that way and tbh I'm really enjoying it. mainly bc like you pointed out it gives us room for other interactions like sandduo and rainduo who I love very much

tommy didn't hear wilbur speaking to clara through the door. wilbur wasn't speaking loudly enough for it to carry through

i mean it's only logical that tommy assumes techno upset wilbur given that wilbur's first bad panic attack in the temple was directly techno's fault. tommy knows how blunt techno can be and how he doesn't tread carefully around wilbur, so of course that's what his mind goes to. but yeah he also doesn't realize that phil and techno know how old wilbur is, since wilbur never told him that he told phil, so there's that too

oh yeah the minute wilbur told tommy about the vision he understood why he was so upset that morning. tommy's not stupid he put the pieces together pretty quickly

I really enjoyed the comparison between schlatt and tommy. because the two are nothing alike, but in a lot of ways they actually are alike at the same time. the relationship wilbur has with both of them is completely different, but they share a lot of the same flaws so it was fun to give wilbur a moment to reflect on that because of course he's going to worry about tommy's reaction. because tommy is impulsive and stubborn and he's never had to tell someone besides schlatt about a vision, so who knows how tommy will react? especially given his feelings towards clara?

#ask #spruce anon #through a glass divine

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justarandomsloth · 1 year

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battery au! that sounds interesting :D

who is tommy a battery for? is that how it works?

do you know who the giants will be?

what happens if a battery gets close to another non-battery, such as the giants or just another human?

how old is tommy in this?

how exactly did tommy get shunned? was everyone against him or were there people defending him?

are the giants gentle or intimidating? will this change?

as a battery, does tommy have any powers?

how exactly does being a battery work?

will tommy need to "charge" and if so how?

does tommy have any special designs? the giants?

and hmm will the village have repercussions for their actions? >:)

this is all for now i will probably have more tho :D

and fyi you don't have to answer all of these,, once i come up with one question i get on a roll djfsd

THANKS SO MUCH FOR ALL THESE AMAZING QUESTIONS!!!!! I purposely left that au pretty vague because I wanted asks like this >:)

Ok so in the Battery Au as I said there are the magic “Users” and then there are “Batteries”. Every magic user is connected with a battery who acts as their power source. Whether you’re a battery or not is determined at birth and is completely random (meaning that the battery and magic user could honestly hate each other).

A magic user can perform some basic magic/spells by themselves but for anything large they need extra energy, hence where their battery comes in (also why Batteries are called Batteries since they provide power)

In this au people who are “Batteries” get the short end of the stick. They provide energy for their partner and are the reason why actual magic can even be used in the first place. They normally don’t get any of the credit tho.

So far I have it where the only person who can access a batteries energy is their partner BUT it could be interesting conflict if someone who wasn’t a batteries partner could access their power.

Tommy is about 16-17 in this and he got kicked out of his village not only cause he was a Battery but because he wasn’t even connected to anyone in the village (which in their eyes made him worthless).

I definitely want the Giants to be the rest of SBI and I’m torn between having Tubbo/Ranboo be humans or giants.

Tommy’s partner is either going to be Wilbur or Tubbo (maybe Philza).

So far batteries don’t have any powers and don’t need to do anything to recharge (other than just rest) but anything I say is subject to change and that is a very interesting idea!!

When a battery gets near another non-battery or human nothing happens but I imagine that a strong enough battery could radiate energy and effect the people around them. (I might change it to make something happen when a battery meets a non-battery this is just what I have for now.)

Nobody has any special designs as of now!

Thanks for the asks!!! :D

I hope I explained what Batteries are well enough cause it makes sense in my head but might not make sense to anyone else!

#Brick ask #Battery Au #t!tommy #mcyt g/t #g/t mcyt

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stangelvve · 2 years

Text

Are You in Love?

Summary: Y/n and Wilbur’s path to figuring out they’re in love.

Word count: 2,645

Pronouns: They/them!

Warnings: Mention of injury, alcohol

Are you in Love?

“Wilbur Soot!” They squealed. A wide grin spread across their face. He found himself smiling as well.

“That tickles!” They continued. Wilbur didn’t stop his hands. He continued his merciless tickling on their sides. The two fell back onto the bed. Loud laughs leave their mouth. Wilbur smiled, pausing to admire them.

They were there actually in his arms. Something the two had fought for. They fought for it for an endless amount of months. Okay, maybe only a few. But having them there in his arms. It felt surreal. Really like a dream come true.

They stared at him too, heart beating fast. They wondered if he felt the same way. If his heart was beating so fast he could feel it in his ears. If the way they looked at him made his stomach do flips. If he felt like he was melting under their touch.

Do you feel it in your stomach?

Does it twist and turn and burn and start to make you cry?

They sank on the coach. The sound of their voice and Wilbur’s felt like it rang off the walls and down the halls. They felt like they wanted to throw up.

“I don’t want to fight anymore.” They whispered. Their eyelashes were sticky and wet from crying. They couldn’t remember why they even started to fight. They could feel the blood pounding in their head—a headache threatening to overtake their brain.

They looked up at Wilbur. He looked as hopeless as they felt. Who would've thought that two people filled with so much passion for each other could end up hurting each other so much? At least that’s what they hoped it was passion.

Wilbur said nothing. That was the most heartbreaking part of it. No more fighting for the two of them. Just silence. The way it made their stomach flip. The words burned at the back of their throat. Yet neither of them said anything. Just sitting there staring at each other. Hoping that nothing was better than something.

But you like it. Don’t want to let it slip away.

Does it stretch into your throat until you don’t know what to say?

“Be safe okay?” They asked, a hand resting on Wilbur’s chest. A sad smile on their face. “When you come back I expect a full reenactment.” Their smile grew wider.

Wilbur grabbed their hand. “Why can’t you come with me?” He asked, only to receive a quick head shake.

“Because I have to work. And so do you.” A slight sad grin on their face. “But I will be right here when you get back, I promise.” They squeezed his hand.

Wilbur pulled them into a bear hug. They held onto him tightly, burying their head into his chest. He felt them tracing shapes on his back. “I miss you already.” He mumbled into their hair.

They squeezed him tighter, before pulling away. “Now go, before you make me cry. Okay?” They said, a sad laugh leaving their lips.

Wilbur could see the tears brimming their eyes. He opened his mouth. I love you. He wanted to say. He bit his lip before he could say anything else. It was too soon, he told himself. There was no way either of them was ready for that yet.

“Promise me you’ll be safe.” They cut into his thoughts, squeezing his hand.

Wilbur nodded. “I’ll see you in two weeks.” He said, letting go of their hands.

Little did he know the same words sat on their tongue as they held back tears and felt the weird warmness inside their chest. They did their best to understand how they were feeling as they waved him off.

Does it hold you under its pillow in the night?

It kills you with its passion and its endless beam of light.

“I want you to move in with me.” Wilbur’s words hung in the air. They marked it down to him being under the influence. He had a habit of doing things like this, saying things he didn’t mean. Most of the time, it was admitting how much they meant to him.

They settled into his side, eyes trained onto the tv. “You don’t mean it right now, Wil.” They said, glancing at him.

He shook his head, his hand drawing shapes on their side. “I want to be with you all the time.” He said, catching their eyes. They both stared at each other.

They shook their head, looking back at the tv. “You’re drunk, and you’d get sick of me so easily.” They whispered.

They felt him stiffen, his hand pausing. “I only had a sip of your drink, and I could never get sick of you, ever.” He whispered, pressing a kiss to the crown of their head. They blew out a sigh, unsure of how they were feeling.

“You don’t have enough room.” They pressed, not sure why they were arguing against it. Wilbur let out a small laugh. “What?” They asked, looking up at him.

“Your apartment is tiny, and I can make room for you. If that is the case, darling.” He said, his hand moving again. Their head was screaming at them, it’s what they wanted. Oh, they wanted it so bad, but they were so scared of losing him. If they would fight more, or if it would fix everything.

“Can we just start with a key?” They asked quietly, looking up at him. Their voice sounded so small. Much smaller than they meant to.

Wilbur nodded, “Of course, whatever makes you most comfortable, as long as I’m with you.” He said, pressing another kiss to the crown of their head. They smiled, feeling their heart skip a beat. That felt perfect for them, the perfect compromise. Even now they both knew that they’s be together all the time anyway.

When you see yourself in the future frail and gray, who do you want beside you when you wake to start the day?

They stood next to Wilbur in the kitchen, a glass of wine settled in their hand. The smell of some dish they insisted he would like wafted through the kitchen. Wilbur wrapped an arm around their waist, holding them flesh to him.

A small wine-drunk giggle left their mouth. He smiled a dumb, love-struck smile. “It smells amazing darling.” He commented.

They smiled up at him. “Thank you, I know you’re going to enjoy it.” They said, leaning their head onto his chest.

The room was quiet and calm, remnants of their daily lives scattered around. Empty cups from when Tommy had been there only a few days before. Pictures of their lives on the fridge, mostly polaroids Wilbur took. They constantly would tease him for taking so many, but was the one to always hang them on the fridge or anywhere.

A soft humming filled the air. “Dance with me.” They said, setting down their glass as well as his.

The two danced around the kitchen. The only sound was humming and giggling when one of them would miss a step. The humming eventually became full laughs, as Wilbur dipped them. They gripped him tightly, their chest rising and falling rapidly as the gleeful sound filled the air.

“Wil, don’t you dare drop me.” They threatened. A grin spread on both of their faces.

Wilbur stared for a moment, finding himself inside his head. He could see himself with them for the rest of his life. Despite what he had thought he’d feel, that thought wasn’t scary to him anymore.

Yeah, it’s extreme, I know what you’re going to say.

I’m being too dramatic but this feeling feels this way.

“Wilbur!” They whined, looking over at him with a pout. They were playing Minecraft at Y/n’s flat. You died! Light up on their side of the screen. It was the 5th time in 30 minutes.

“What’s wrong, love?” He asked, wrapping an arm around them. “Just respawn, you’ll be fine.” He promised.

“It’s not funny anymore.” They said, putting the controller down. Wilbur looked down at them, pressing a kiss to the top of their head. “A kiss does not make it better, mister.” They said, starting to stand up.

“Yes it does,” He said, pulling them back into the coach. They made a noise. “This is very fun for me.” He said, handing them their remote.

“I don’t understand why Tommy always wants to play with you.” They grumbled, respawning. Wilbur looked at them, jaw dropped. They gave him a sweet smile, before returning their attention back to the game. They felt Wilbur move next to them, and then a pillow comes into contact with their face.

“Take it back!” He said, continuing to hit them. They let out small yells, every time the pillow hit them.

“Never you, man child!” They shrieked, putting their hands up, protecting their face. Until Wilbur hit the remote into their face. Both of them froze. “Ow!” They said to him, covering their eye.

Wilbur's hand immediately cupped their face, examining it. They pouted at him. “I’m sorry. I did not mean to hurt you.” He whispered, his thumb gently rubbed their cheek.

They mumbled something, Wilbur didn’t quite catch. “What was that, love?” He asked, tucking a piece of hair behind their ear.

“Kiss it better, please?” They asked, still pouting.

A cheeky smile spread across Wilbur's face. “I thought kisses don’t make it better?” He teased, leaning in to press a kiss to their face. They frowned, their lips twitching up as he pressed a kiss to their lips.

Are you in love?

They walked hand in hand, the air was cold. It smelt like rain. The ground was wet from rain, luckily it had temporarily stopped. The warmth of Wilbur’s hand seemed to be enough to keep them from shivering. Or at least that’s what they were trying to convince themselves.

“Hold on you must be freezing,” Wilbur said, stopping and peeling off his flannel. “Here.” He said, handing it over.

They gladly took it, putting it on. It smelt like him and was so warm. “Thank you.” They said, smiling up at him. He smiled back, enjoying seeing them in his clothing.

He stared at them for a little bit, before gently pulling on their hand. “Come on, before it starts raining again.” So the two started walking again, the silence comforting. They leaned their head onto his shoulder, humming quietly.

“I had a lot of fun tonight, thank you.” They said, squeezing his hand.

He smiled at them, squeezing them back. “Thank you for coming with me.” He said. They shook their head, chuckling slightly. He was always too kind for them, they thought. Always thanking them for going out with him.

“Wil?” They said, looking up at him. He let out a hum. They looked up at him, words getting caught in their throat. Then it started to pour rain. They let out a shriek, running with him to safety. They let out a laugh, wiping some water off of their face.

“Are you okay?” He asked. They nodded, looking up at Wilbur with a wide smile. He smiled back, their smile made his insides flip.

“The rain just didn’t want me to tell you what I wanted to.” They said, squeezing his hand.

“What was it?” He asked, looking up at the rain.

I love you.

They wanted to scream it under the rain, here next to him. But they couldn’t, what if he didn’t feel the same way? They couldn’t ruin this now. Not when it felt good.

“I think it can wait.” They said, watching the rain with him.

Do you feel it in your spine? Shaking, waking, tearing, breaking.

Taking its sweet time.

But you want it, yeah you need it just to breathe.

“Wil?” They called out, no response. As usual. He was hauled up in his at-home office, headphones too loud to hear the outside world.

They made their way to the room, gently knocking on the door. Wilbur saw their reflection on his monitor, he turned around and took the headphones off. They gave him an exhausted smile, worn out from a long day of work.

“Hey, darling.” He said, his brows furrowed. “I didn’t know you were coming over.” He stood, meeting them at the door. They looked so exhausted and melted into his hands when he pulled them into a hug.

“Wasn’t planning on it, but I just really needed to see you.” They mumbled into his chest, taking in his scent, the way it could interestingly relax them instantly. After being yelled at by so many people, being there in his arms was the most relaxed they had felt that day.

Wilbur nodded, squeezing them tighter. “I’m always here for you, dear.” He whispered. They buried their face into the cloth of his hoodie, mumbling incoherent things.

They looked up at him. A tired smile on their face. “Thank you. Now, what were you doing?” They asked looking back at his screen. He smiled, explaining and leading them back to his computer. He settled into his seat and pulled them into his lap.

You’re never sure of what trick it’s pulling from its sleeve.

If you said yes. To all the things above. Then yes my friend I’m sorry. It appears you are in love.

“You what?” Their voice echoed in the kitchen. Wilbur felt himself stiffen. He watched as they dragged a hand over their face, tears spilling out of their eyes.

“I’m sorry.” He whispered. Each tear falling down their face felt like sharp daggers to his heart.

They quickly wiped the tears away, sniffling. “Why do you want to leave?” They asked, their chest heaving, as they struggled to not let the sobs that threatened out.

Wilbur couldn’t find the right answer. He couldn’t tell them the truth. He was terrified of the feeling he had. It wasn’t that he couldn’t put down his roots. He was terrified of rejection, of his messed up.

“I don’t… I don't get it.” They whispered. “We worked everything out. We worked through all of our fights, we talked about moving in together, we got through long distance.” They rambled, listing things that the two of them worked through together.

He reached forward, grabbing their hands. They quickly pulled away, eyebrows furrowed. A weak noise came out of their mouth. He just wanted them to stop blaming themself, it wasn’t their fault it was his.

“Because I love you.” He mumbled, his eyes fixed on the ground. Their eyes snapped to look up at him.

They shook their head. “No, Wilbur. You can’t do that. You can’t do this to me. Break my heart and then try to fix it by telling me you love me.” They hissed, stepping back from him.

“I love you, Y/n.” He repeated. “And I’m scared of how much I love you. How’s that?” He asked, his voice rising.

“Why couldn’t you tell me that?” They asked, their whole body dropping. It was their turn to return the gesture of grabbing hands. Wilbur let them, holding onto them tightly. He feared if he let go they’d disappear.

One of their hands gently guided his chin, forcing him to look at them. “I love you too.” They confirmed. “And I am scared of how much I love you.” They whispered, their hand moving up to his cheek, gently rubbing it.

He leaned into their hand, his eyes closed. “I don’t know why I’m so scared.” He admitted.

“Because you’re scared of the hurt.” They whispered. Wilbur opened his eyes looking at them. “But I promise, I’m not going to hurt you.” They gave him a small smile.

“I love you, Y/n.” He whispered.

They smiled. “I love you too, Wilbur.”

#wilbur soot x reader #wilbur soot fanfiction #wilbur soot imagine #wilbur x reader #mcyt x reader #mcyt fanfiction #mcyt imagine

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rosysugarr · 2 years

Text

People are saying they feel like the stream was telling them they were dumb for caring so much or taking it seriously and I'm. Listen. I mean this utterly sincerely and with nothing but love, but this story has always been ridiculous. Always. And c!Wilbur has always just been a Guy. Like I know it's so easy to get wrapped up in our dramatic fan animations and fanfiction but at its most basic core, this story has always been absurd, and we've never been given any reason to suspect c!Wilbur WASN'T just some fuckin' dude.

Like. Yeah there is a lot of poetry in his story. Yeah there are heavy themes and serious concepts and fantasy and drama and betrayal. But beneath it all there has always been a core of absurdity, and the ccs have never shied away from that absurdity. There are sequences and story arcs that they play much more seriously and down to earth than others, but Wilbur in particular has always been keenly aware of how ridiculous his story is, how silly the very concept of it was.

He was literally just a man who showed up one day and recruited Tommy to sell drugs with him. Not some high fantasy being or royal from a long bloodline. Before everything else, c!Wilbur was just a dude in an orange jacket who got busted for drugs. And when that happened he decided to start a country. That's fucking goofy. It's always been goofy. But that doesn't undo or take away from the seriousness of where some things ended up from there. That doesn't undo what L'Manberg meant. That doesn't cheapen anything because we were never given any reason to suspect anything more about c!Wilbur.

If you feel like this finale was making fun of people for caring or taking things so seriously with its tonal whiplash, honestly, and sincerely, you just misread some things from the very beginning. Or maybe you didn't even realize or remember these things. But go back and rewatch season one (the original season one) and I hope you'll see what I mean.

Nothing here was new or out of place tone-wise. I think we've just gotten so used to serious, high concept lore that we've forgotten where certain characters started.

#rosychatter

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fictionfixations · 2 years

Text

Thoughts

CW: Death

I never expected to see the recent.. news, and I probably never would've, because even if you told me that he'd be dead, I honestly wouldn't believe it. I never could've expected this outcome and it may have been foolish to believe, but I did truly think that he would've survived. He was just such a great person, someone who you felt comfortable with, who could make you laugh, and was honestly one of the safe spaces here on the internet no matter how many toxic people are after him, and it hurts to know that people have died before to unfortunate circumstances and that haters have just treated it like it was nothing and continue to slander their reputation, and that this would be no different.

I just want to say, that no matter what they say, or if it comes out somehow that Technoblade was a bad person, we shouldn't let that take over of how we think of him. He will forever be the youtuber whose spent months just to win the #1 spot of a rank in a video game. The guy who was crazy good at PVP, and we shouldn't let anything anyone else say slander that.

It just hurts so badly, and I know that those who knew him closest are hurting worse having known him personally. If anyone's reading this, please don't forget to take a break for your own mental health, to be able to get past this hurdle and be able to move on. That is not meaning to forget about him, no, but to be able to move on and grow. It's gonna be such a harsh while and I can't help but worry about how everyone's gonna take this. How Phil, Wilbur, Tommy, and so on. I don't know if they were aware of how bad it had gotten or not, but nobody can truly expect death. It comes when you least expect it. I just hope that they can take a break, take as long as they need to heal- if they even need to quit the platform be okay. I hope we'll all be able to continue on and grow from this experience.

I don't really know what to do at the moment. I've just been kinda on and off and sort of just using YouTube as a distraction. I've been catching up onto Hermitcraft recently so I just.. continued that? One moment I'm okay and then the next I'm just a waterfall. It's awful and I just. I want to do something for Techno, as like a tribute, but I don't want to just be 'using' the fame of his death and somehow taking advantage of that or being disrespectful, but it feels wrong still to just.. not do anything.

We're really deep in this kinda rant now, but I apologize if this is how you've found this out. I'm assuming it's all over twitter and any other social media platform at this point, and all kinds of fanfic writers are going on hiatus' or completely discontinuing books due to it.

The only thing I'm honestly decent at would be writing and honestly, I don't know if I should try. I'm completely split. I want to do something but I'm not sure if that'd be just.. disrespectful, writing about a dead guy y'know?

So I've just been kinda telling fanfic writers that I'm subbed to in the comments that it's okay if they discontinue or if they decide not to and that they still wanna write it. Honestly I have no room here to decide for people and that's the same for me, in where I have to decide on my own. I might try to do it, I might not, but we're all in this together regardless.

Sorry if I've ended up crossing any lines or if the pain's too fresh to be talking about something like this, but if I don't say anything now, then I doubt I will later.

#technoblade #thoughts

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peninkwrites · 2 years

Note

For the ask game 18 and 26!

26. How do you get into your character’s head? How do you get out? Do you ever regret going in there in the first place?

Okay. I think one of the unique things about writing for the dsmp is that because chat exists, I already have a silent role in this story. When I write fics, I am writing what is happening to them. I am not them. I am a witness who might mourn with them, but I'm always in the scene in a very specific way.

Although, to be fair, there are moments. Think the Wilbur line about life being about more than suffering, life meaning something. The hysterical creation in Limbo once they had a chance. Tubbo hoping with all he has and furious at injustice. Ranboo making soup– and no I am not kidding I think one of the greatest expressions of caring is making food for someone when you don't know how else to help them.

Those are always mindsets I want to be a part of. So I don't regret it. And I don't really leave, more so I just let it fade, y'know?

18. Choose a passage from your writing. Tell me about the backstory of this moment. How you came up with it, how it changed from start to end.

This is SUCH a good question and I have the EXACT scene from chapter 34 of tddd! I'll put it under the cut bc it's long, but my thoughts will go up here:

Okay. This scene is the emotional vulnerability of talking on a rooftop that you’re not supposed to be on. That's the only way I can translate it. It is the feeling of being young and laying on the top floor of a parking garage with someone you love when you feel like the world cannot understand you. That Feeling.

Wilbur and Tommy talking on Tommy’s railway above the trees. The act of your legs swinging over a precipice but still feeling safe, of laying back on cool stone and looking up at stars and somehow that sight makes the ground comfortable enough to stay there for hours and for some reason whatever is spoken in that space will become something precious and even in the morning when you’ve forgotten the exact words you still remember how it felt to lay beside someone you love and feel like things are gonna be alright because you’re there together and that means something and nothing will ever feel exactly like this again.

This scene was always going to happen, the dialogue at least, but when I started writing, I had Tommy sit on the ledge and lay back and Wilbur sit beside him and that feeling was just. Everywhere. And I ran with it. That very specific feeling of being both young and so world weary and so willing to be a part of the world at the same time. Yeah.

“Fucking hell,” Tommy huffs. His cane clatters to the ground, he sits, legs swinging off the path, the trees below swirling in the breeze. “Sit with me. And we'd better tell Tubbo we’ll be late for dinner, I guess.”

“Yeah?” Wilbur sits beside him, not quite touching shoulders. He puts the guitar case down carefully on his other side. He can’t resist a bit of comfort in the sight of the trees below. Every time he remembers the world is living and breathing around him is a relief.

“So. You talk about Limbo, I talk about Dream,” Tommy reiterates, waiting like he’s expecting something to happen from that.

“Easier said than done,” Wilbur sighs, leaning back, arms supporting him and palms pressed to the cobblestone.

“A lot of things are easier said than done,” Tommy says mockingly.

“Maybe we’re… Maybe we’re meant to start with something else?” Wilbur offers.

“We talk about something else to talk about the thing we’re supposed to be talking about?” Tommy scoffs.

“Well, what do you suggest, then?”

“Dunno,” Tommy shrugs. “I’d rather talk about something good. Not just… dig into the fucked up shit.”

“Something good?”

“Yeah.” A pause. “Don’t look at me, I don’t know what the fuck that’d be. I’ve spent the last year begging for my life in a prison cell, remember?”

“I spent the last decade with no one to beg to.”

Tommy hits Wilbur’s shoulder with his own. “Fucking show off. Come on, then. You’re the one who’s good with words and shit, right? Tell me something good.”

Wilbur laughs, thinking. These past weeks, he’s spent so much time just feeling and taking at all in. He’d spent less time thinking. He’s alive again. The question from his first dawn back returns, still unanswered. Now what?

“We’re not here just to suffer. Being alive is meant to be worth something. I don’t feel that way just yet, but I refuse to let myself think that it’s not.” Coming from Wilbur, those words feel like a precious, breakable thing.

Tommy gives him a funny look, surprised and maybe almost impressed, but there’s something jaded there too. “Yeah? Where was this attitude in Pogtopia?” He says it scathingly.

A moment of pause, Wilbur staring at him, taken aback by his daring. This could end in bitterness, in resentment. From either of them. Instead Tommy laughs, barking and sharp, and Wilbur can’t help but laugh too.

“Right, then. You got me there, I’ll admit it,” Wilbur shakes his head. “I guess we’re at the point where laughing about that shit only makes sense, huh?”

“Now here you go with this bloody fucking optimism, those Ghostbur bits really worked wonders on you…” Tommy scoffs. A pause, that moment of ease fading with the sun as it begins to brush the distant treeline. Tommy’s lip trembles for a moment before his expression turns to something more grim. His gaze remains locked on the horizon, jaw tense. The sky has turned orange and pink again. He gets tired of a lot of things since being back, the world overwhelming all the time, but he never gets tired of the sunsets. “I have spent so much time fighting to believe that too. That the world is worth it– And maybe it is, Wil. I’d believe that. I’d believe the world is… is worth living in. It’s just… it’s harder to believe I can do this. That… that I’m alive enough to live in it. That I’m not just some corpse wiggling around in a live body. And it was fucking hard before Dream ruined me, so now it’s just– Fuck,” Tommy lays back on the path, hands covering his face.

Wilbur spends too long trying to process those words. “Dream didn’t…” Wilbur’s chest aches as he looks back at Tommy, at his hands on his face, at the finger missing from his left hand, a physical representation of what happened to him, a microcosm in an ocean of suffering. “He didn’t ruin you, Tommy.”

“Yeah?” Tommy sighs, uncovering his eyes. “You don’t get to be the one to say that, alright? You don’t–” Tommy thinks back on another conversation, explaining to Tubbo that his Tommyinnit stayed gone. “You don’t get to decide what survived of me.”

“I– Yeah,” Wilbur concedes reluctantly. “I don’t. I just…” Another pause. He sighs, laying back beside Tommy. “I’ve got nothing I can say that’ll change your mind.”

“Well spotted. Sharp as a tack, you are.”

“But let me try anyway, alright?” Wilbur says with weak irritation. “Something survived of you, right? Who else would I be talking to right now? So… as long as this bit of you is here, you can… It’s like New L’Manberg. You all built that beautiful thing over the mess I made. So, you rebuild, right?”

“How poetic,” Tommy tries to stay jaded and harsh, but that had done the trick. Wilbur had brought L’Manberg into things, and that always makes a difference. Tommy feels a lump in his throat, the clouds above blurred by tears. “I tried to kill myself again, you know. I properly did. After I got saved and everything. Not knowing if Dream would be able to fix it and I tried– I tried to–”

“Yeah, I know.”

Tommy turns to look at him sharply, surprised, almost defensive.

Wilbur just looks sad. “I could feel it. You getting closer, same way I felt it last time.” A pause. “It was because of me, wasn’t it?” Tommy doesn’t answer, but silence from him says enough. Wilbur nods, as if replying to that unspoken confirmation. “I am… so sorry, Tommy.”

“Don’t be sorry. You didn’t choose to stay gone.”

“Yeah, but it’s like you said, isn’t it? I chose to leave,” Wilbur shoots back sharply. He sighs. “I know we’ve already been through that bit. In Limbo. But I just…” A pause, Wilbur looking up at the darkening sky instead of over at his brother. “I couldn’t do better then and now I can. So I promise you, Tommy. We’re going to make it. You and I, we owe it to each other.”

Tommy stares at him, and if Wilbur had been looking, he would’ve seen that old glow in his eyes of a boy who would have followed him anywhere, who believes him. Tommy sees how much has changed and for once it doesn’t scare him. Wilbur promising him hope, the same promises Tommy had given him back in Pogtopia. The difference is, Tommy is going to listen. Tommy is going to live.

#WOOO #these were good ones #ask games #long post

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fandomandsparkles · 1 year

Text

I posted 8,328 times in 2022

That's 3,781 more posts than 2021!

549 posts created (7%)

7,779 posts reblogged (93%)

Blogs I reblogged the most:

@ghost-chi

@go-learn-esperanto

@/renchanters

@idkanameatall

@twelve-kinds-of-trouble

I tagged 6,359 of my posts in 2022

Only 24% of my posts had no tags

#fave - 905 posts

#goodtimeswithscar - 788 posts

#grian - 723 posts

#hermitcraft - 548 posts

#mcyt - 466 posts

#desert duo - 280 posts

#video - 222 posts

#philza - 221 posts

#mcc - 214 posts

#wilbur soot - 180 posts

Longest Tag: 138 characters

#even though it’s perfectly fine to make a huge corporation extremely evil in every way and for the villains to be actually the good people

My Top Posts in 2022:

this isn’t even my lowest point. you will see that when scar teams w grian. sorry

292 notes - Posted March 12, 2022

Grian appears in his bed with a scream lodged halfway in his throat.

He struggles to sit up, a lingering pain on his back putting a grimace on his face. He turns around as he hears a thump, seeing Scar slide out of bed, chest heaving, sheets tangled around his legs. He’s glancing around wildly, and upon seeing Grian, his expression changes to one of horror. “Grian, I-“

“Not now,” Grian cuts in with a clipped tone in his voice, staggering to his feet. The pain he feels transitions to a burning feeling in his chest for Scar- they’re yellow now, no longer safe in the green. All because his soulmate wasn’t careful. All because of some cruel joke by the Universe to force them back together.

He hoped for BigB, or Scott, or Impulse. Hoped for someone else, someone less prone to death. Someone that didn’t give him this aching sense of pain.

Grian remembers the sandy mountain.

Grian remembers betrayal.

He doesn’t know if he‘s truly angry at Scar- some part of him is glad they’re back together. Glad they’re connected. They will either win together or die together- there’s no betrayal there.

Clear-cut and straightforward. Strangely opposite to the previous time they were in an alliance, where there were no promises, just a messy life debt that turned into something too painful for Grian to handle.

Grian rummages through his chests, finding iron ingots and spare armour to throw on. He was gathering resources before Scar died, throwing them both back into their homes with their items left behind. He needs to get those back, Grian thinks, drowning out the other thoughts in his head. He hears Scar move behind him, but he doesn’t turn around. Grian can’t meet his eyes- yellow and shiny and innocently apologetic.

Grian hears Scar clear his throat hesitantly behind him, and still, he doesn’t look. He pretends it’s out of anger, out of the fact that because of him, they’re one step closer to death. The familiarity will tear him apart.

“Grian?” Scar’s voice is tremulous. Look at me. Grian finally turns around. His teeth are gritted, and he doesn’t speak. He can’t speak.

“I’m sorry,” Scar says quietly. He holds his hands up in offering and Grian can see the flowers in them, beautiful and delicate. And he wants to crush them, hands trembling at his sides- crush the poppies and bluebells that Scar found in a chest, picked days ago on a whim.

Crush the flowers he was now using to win Grian back.

And Grian is in the desert again, back in the first time Scar approached him with flowers in his hands and a tentative smile on his lips. Testing their alliance. Testing their friendship.

“Grian?” Scar repeats, and his weakness, how he stares at Grian hopefully- like he’s not a monster, like he didn’t kill him, like he didn’t hide the fact that they were soulmates from him, like he isn’t unforgiving and cruel- it pulls Grian apart.

Back then, Grian had a choice, and he took it, reassuring Scar that nothing changed, that they could still be friends. It was strategic, barely anything sentimental in how he patted Scar’s shoulder and smiled.

All he wanted was blood, and Scar was the means to an end.

It’s different now, Grian knows. He feels it in the ache in his bones and the slight humming from his chest, connecting him to the other man.

It’s different, and Grian doesn’t have a choice anymore. He doesn’t know if Scar knows it too- if he seeks forgiveness out of habit or a strange sense of honour. Grian hopes Scar- at the very least- knows he means it.

Grian makes careful eye contact, yellow meeting yellow, guilt meeting guilt. He grasps at the flowers, rubbing petals between his thumb and forefinger. “It’s okay.” He extracts the flowers from Scar’s hands. “I forgive you.”

Scar brightens. He lets out an audible sigh of relief. “Really? Oh, gosh, I was scared for a second-“

“And do you,” Grian hears himself interrupt, “do you forgive me?” His fingers slip, and petals fall to the ground. He doesn’t know what he’s asking. He doesn’t know what he’ll say if Scar asks, bright and curious, for what?

But Scar only laughs, “Forgive you?” He takes back the petal-less flower from among the other pristine stalks, and tucks it behind his ear. Despite himself, Grian giggles at how ridiculous he looks. A smug smile- ever so sly- plays at Scar’s lips.

“Of course I do.”

Grian stops laughing. He tries for a cool smile, feeling it melt into something more watery. “Thanks.”

Scar blinks, his smile warmer than the sun- and what wouldn’t melt in the sun? The moment is broken as he throws himself back into motion, strutting around the room. “Grian, I can’t believe I died to a creeper, of all things. I’m not even joking, that evil mob waited there just to ambush me as I was mining. Now, I need more gear.” He opens a chest, the petal-less flower still firmly set behind his ear.

He’s forgotten about it, Grian knows, laughing quietly to himself.

Some part of him hopes it stays there forever.

513 notes - Posted June 25, 2022

since i cant watch the actual mcc why don’t i contribute like this instead. fill it up

599 notes - Posted April 27, 2022

c!caesar lost his last canon life today.. i know he was problematic but it was still kind of sad

642 notes - Posted March 15, 2022

My #1 post of 2022

hahahaha unless?? i’ll answer in the morening fr n goodnight

5,779 notes - Posted March 3, 2022

Get your Tumblr 2022 Year in Review →

#tumblr2022 #year in review #my 2022 tumblr year in review #your tumblr year in review #yeah i only tagged the people who are my mutuals (4 outta 5)#certified scar girlie ^_^ if you even care

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