#wilbur left and i got distracted | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

koithelittle · 3 months

Note

Hi hi!! Can I ask for a hurt/Comfort fic (or headcanons?? Whatever u feel like writing:3) with copbur?

Like he had to work longer than he told u by accident, but u get really anxious about people being away (I'm not projecting guys I swear-) and when he comes home ur little and sad and he's really sweet about it and feels so bad he accidentally did that to his baby :((

anxious days with happy nights

note; OH MY GOD YES I CAN!!! ngl I really struggle with separation anxiety/abandonment issues in general but esp with a carer so like ooo I'm gonna have fun writing this, thank you!

words; 2.1k

warnings; use of daddy/dada, cutesy petnames (i stick to baby though), separation anxiety, crying, panic, abandonment issues, reader gets a bath, not proofread, lmk if there's more!

pairing; cg!copbur x little!reader (gn)

navigation

taglist; @jjtheresidentbaby @lillylvjy @wilmaslittleflower @whos-nicooo (ask or dm to be added!!)

wilbur usually kept his shifts to the same length every day. his routine was set and it wasn't going to budge. he'd wake up at 6, get dressed and showered and then he'd wake you up to do a little check in. if you were big, you'd handle yourself for the most part; even if he preferred when you let him fuss over you. but if you were little, he'd help you wake up, get you dressed, get you to brush your teeth while he did your hair, etc etc. you'd both have breakfast and by 7:50 he was out the door and on his way to work. that way you'd be awake with him long enough to feel secure and not end up waking up without him and panicking (which has happened before and resulted in him taking an extra day for his weekend off).

his hours were the same, 8am - 4pm, Monday through Friday. it was the same routine every day, and it was easily expected to stay that way. his job usually consisted of more quiet work, like paper work, intake or lunch rounds. nothing out of the ordinary, nothing where he had to handle scuffles or escaped inmates. it was repetitive, and he liked that.

you had woken up in a normal headspace, getting yourself ready and joking around with wilbur before he left. you thought of busying yourself with house work, dishes that needed to be done, laundry that wasn't overflowing but you felt like it needed to be done. but you couldn't manage it mentally, you were exhausted and nothing was to a level of needing to be done at that moment, so you rotted on the couch and did some simple embroidery during the morning. you didn't start to slip until lunch time, having decided on a snack plate instead of a put together meal because you were simply just getting so tired and didn't feel like it. the rest came with it.

the further you slipped and the later it got, the more on edge you were. you managed to catch wil during his afternoon break, texting with him and telling him of your day. part of him was estatic you were little and enjoying yourself, while the other was worried since he wasn't there to actively care for you. not to mention he only had a fifteen minute time window to speak to you before he got swept back into work.

he told you he had to go, and you understood, telling him how much you loved him and missed your daddy! he smiles and puts away his phone in his pocket before going back to his post.

you managed on your own until it was around the time he usually left work, you didn't get a text or a call that he was on his way. he wasn't answering his texts and he should've been home by now. but he wasn't. you were panicking a bit, curled up in blankets and staring blankly at your phone hoping to all hope that you'd get a call from him. that he would be coming home.

your anxiety only built further and further as time passed, you tried to keep yourself cozy and distracted, turning on some cartoons as your phone went unchecked.

another hour passed and you heard the front door click closed, you lifted your head, dried tears over your cheeks.

"daddy?" you call for him, jumping out of bed and waiting for him to answer.

"baby?" wilbur echoes back and he hurries up the stairs, seeing you peeking out of the bedroom door, your eyes held wide with a pout on your lips. he scooped you up into his arms and carried you into the bedroom. he sat down and set you between his legs after he kicked off his shoes. he runs his thumbs over your cheeks as he takes note of your reddened eyes and the tears dried on your skin. he frowns, kissing your nose as he rests his hands on the small of your back.

"how tiny is my baby, mm?" he tries to lighten the mood with a soft question, trying to keep you with him as his mind wanders and runs with different thoughts. feelings of guilt and worry at the sight of you so distressed and he knows it's because he was late. but he'll address that later, right now his baby comes first.

you shrug softly, reaching forward and grabbing hold of his shirt, messing with the fabric and rubbing it between your fingers. it's a softer cotton shirt, and you always like to fidget with it when you can.

"are you.. five? two? ooo is my baby realllyy tiny? hm?" he kisses all over your face as he speaks, trying to coax a smile or a giggle out of you. you crack a bit of a grin, shaking your head as you look up at him.

you hold up one finger, smiling sweetly as he gasp, "oh so you're a little baby, then?" and you nod as he places a big kiss to your forehead, pushing back your hair and tucking it behind your ears.

you move to crawl against his chest and he takes you into his arms, rubbing at your back as you drape your arms around his neck. you don't feel like talking all too much, just so tired and overwhelmed with all the feelings you have, that words just feel exhausting.

silence drapes over the both of you, and wilbur tucks his face into your neck as he hums, "I'm really sorry, baby. I got all caught up at work with a bad guy and I couldn't get home in time, I wish I did," you nod into his shoulder, humming softly as his arms tighten around you.

"s otay, daddy," is what you manage to squeak out, and he sighs, tension and stress being let out with the long breath and you hold yourself tighter to him. you don't want him to disappear, you need to hold on tighter. tighter, tighter, tighter.

he feels your hold tighten, and he rubs your back while leaving little chaste kisses by your ear. he mumbles small words of reassurance, "I'm here, baby. not going anywhere," which earns a little whine from you as you bury your face deep into his shoulder. he holds back a small chuckle, and it comes out as a huff of air as he simply keeps you close.

more time passes, nothing changing other than the intensity of your hold on him, hands grabbing at the fabric of his shirt. it helps you stay grounded, he doesn't mind.

"baby, have you done your routine yet?" he knows the answer, but he still bothers with asking anyways. you shake your head with a huff, his lips curl into a grin and he nods, "mkay baby, time for a bath then."

he then works on prying you off of him so he can effectively get you ready for a bath. you're shaking your head and whining at him, and he tries to soothe you with soft back rubs and little kisses to your face. it works for the most part and your silent complaints seem to fizzle out as he settles you between his legs again.

"can you sit still for daddy while I get things ready? mm?" he coos, knuckles running over the soft skin of your cheeks and you nod vigorously. wilbur chuckles and kisses your forehead before handing you your favorite stuffie and turning the TV to bluey. you focus your attention on the show, sitting still on the middle of the queen size mattress. he slips out of bed from behind you, untucking his shirt out of habit as he gathers up some pj's for you, taking them and laying them out behind you on the bed. then ventures into the bathroom.

he starts by running the water in the bath, then adds some bubbles to get all foamy. he keeps the door open so he can hear if you call for him, or if you fall. he then crouches to look under the sink for some of your bath toys and a bath bomb. he wants to make tonight's bath a bit more fun and exciting than your usual baths. mostly to help soothe the guilt that grows in his gut. he keeps the bath running as he pokes his head into the bedroom from the bathroom and smiles at you.

"hey, honey, the bath's almost ready," you look over to him and nod, reaching your arms out and making grabby motions with your hands. he scoops you up from under your arms and kisses all over your face, "good baby," he cracks a small grin, holding you on his hip as he carries you into the bathroom. after he sets you down on the counter, he kisses each of your cheeks before he begins to help you undress.

"what did my baby do today?" he croons, helping you into his arms before setting you down in the bath. you shrug at him, padding at the water as the bubbles collect around you.

he grabs the little washcloth and gets it all wet before he starts to scrub at your back, "i's watched cawtoons a bit," you finally speak up, eyes droopy and tired as you watch him.

"oh you did now, mm? what did you watch, bug?" he smiles sweetly at you as he gently guides your arm to be closer to him, and he gently scrubs your arm and shoulders before moving to the other arm. he glances between your eyes and where he's cleaning you up, waiting for you to answer.

"Ninjago," you mumble, smile brightening as your eyes widen with it.

he chuckles, kissing your temple and humming at your answer, "zane still your favorite?"

you nod happily, giggling before you ramble on about the episode you watched, and everything that happened. he manages to comprehend most of it, but the rest was all baby babbles that he couldn't quite make out.

after your body was all clean, he sat back for a minute, letting you play to your heart's content as he watched you. his shirt is a bit soaked, and he has some bubble bath in his hair from when you tried to give him a foamy hat, but he doesn't mind. with a small smile on his lips, and love in his eyes, he watches as you play and splash, giggling and including him in your play. he leans closer a moment later, grabbing hold of your hand and rubbing his thumb over the skin. wilbur then kisses each of your fingertips, ending with a kiss to your palm. you giggle and splash about, grinning ear to ear.

"was dat fow?" you ask softly, eyes squinting with a smile on your lips. he grabs your other hand and repeats the order of kisses before he places one tiny kiss to your nose.

"oh, well I'm just showing my baby how much I love them," he smiles softly before he starts to wet your hair and lather up your scalp in soap. you smile and hum, shutting your eyes as he washes out your hair.

when he's done, you're so tired that you don't even fight to stay in the bath, just letting him pick you up and wrap you up in a soft fluffy towel, drying you off. he carries you into the bedroom and helps you get all dressed, kissing all over your face before he helps you get back to the bathroom to help you brush your teeth. you're sleepily leaning against him the whole time, exhausted from your anxiety filled day.

once he got your teeth brushed, he carried you over to the bed, grabbing your hair brush and a couple of hair ties. he sat you between his legs as he unpaused the TV, letting it play as you focused your attention on bluey. he gently brushed out your hair, before splitting it in two and braiding both sections. he places a quick kiss to your temple before turning you to face him and shut off the tv.

"alright, baby, time for bed," you nod, reaching your arms over his shoulders as he picks you up and pulls you into his chest, kissing all over your face. he held you to his chest as he tucked you both under the covers, making sure your stuffie was safe in your arms. after he had effectively kissed every spot on your face, he pushed your bangs back and pressed you to his chest.

"goodnight little one," a small pause as you held him closer, a smile on his lips as he continued, "I love you."

you murmured an echo of his words, telling him you loved him too, and you were soon asleep. held tight in his arms with comfort surrounding you.

#sfw agere #koimoodboards #koiwrites #wilbur soot agere #wilbur soot #cg!wilbur #cg!wilbur soot #wilbur #wilbur soot x reader #wilbur x reader #copbur #copbur x reader #copbur agere #cg!copbur #cg!copbur x reader #cg!copbur x little!reader #cg!wilbur soot x little!reader #wilbur soot x gn!reader agere #koifics

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haunted-headset · 5 months

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one shot idea

wilbur x depressed reader go to the beach and sit down in the water together and feel really happy and calm and wilbur comforts reader, and reader feels calm and happy

ily lots if you write it thank you so so much

Anything to Make Me Feel Less Numb

summary: Wilbur x depressed reader go to the beach & sit down in the water together :)

a/n: hello! sorry it took so long to finish! tags: @vibestillaxxx@joviepog@ax-y10@themonsterunderurmom @wilburstan@smolsleepykitten@funnyreally2009@crows-death@dykepunz@aresriiots@0miamor0@defonotval@chipch0p@mazzistar16@unmellowyellowfellow@justalittlebitofchaos@thosecolorfulsheets@vopix@taylors-version-from-the-vault@aine-lasagna@merianakross@veeislost@urfav-sapphic-siren@shazbaz58-blog @wifiatthetrainstation@mcr-pr-fob@shd454@universe-friday@rqvii@idioticion@m0thza (let me know if u don't or do wanna be tagged!!)

word count: 534

It was another one of those days. Those days that made you feel like you wanted to die.

It was 9:30 pm. Wilbur was busy editing. You were lying on your bed, limbs in a starfish shape, staring up at the ceiling, as if that was going to help your mental state. You didn't really care. You just needed a distraction from the screams & yelling & sobbing that went on in your head. You needed something empty, something thoughtless, something blank. The ceiling provided that.

"Love?" Wilbur's soft voice brought you back to earth. "Are you alright? You've been staring at the ceiling for the past five minutes & I don't think I've seen you blink or breathe once during those minutes."

You sat up & looked at him. He always seemed so happy, so content, so peaceful. You had no idea how he did it.

"I'm fine," you said, forcing a smile.

Wilbur looked you up & down before a soft smile appeared on his lips. "Get your shoes on & get dressed. We're going somewhere."

"Where are we going?" you asked.

"Not telling!" he said as he left the bedroom. You chuckled & slowly got out of bed. You put on a decent outfit & some shoes before walking into the living room, where Wilbur was standing with his guitar slung across his back & a blanket tucked under his arm. He took your hand & walked you to the car, making sure to open the car door for you.

"Now can you please tell me where we're going?" you asked.

"Nope," Wilbur grinned as he began to drive. "Just close your eyes & I'll tell you when we get there."

You closed your eyes, & you weren't surprised when there wasn't silence in your mind. There hardly ever was.

After about 15 minutes, Wilbur told you to open your eyes. When you did, you saw the jet-black night sky that was only illuminated by the thousands of stars sprinkled throughout the sky & the blinding yet beautiful full moon. You saw the waves, which were usually blue but were seemingly drained of their color because of the night, crashing against the sand. You were at the beach.

When you & Wilbur got to the sand, Wilbur laid the blanket down & kicked off his shoes, & sat down. He then looked up at you & smiled.

"I didn't want you to be sad anymore, & I know you like the beach during the nighttime, so I thought I'd take you here."

& for the rest of the night, the screaming & chaos that filled your mind dissolved into nothingness for the first time in a very long time, & instead was replaced with the soft sound of Wilbur's fingers plucking the guitar strings & his heavenly voice that could make you smile no matter what day it was. It was remarkable, really, how Wilbur could take everything that you thought was wrong with you & get rid of it with just a smile or a laugh. Nobody else could do that for you.

"How're you feeling?" Wilbur asked after about 30 minutes of song-playing.

"Better than ever," you smiled.

#wilbur soot #wilbursoot #wilbur #lovejoy wilbur #fanfic #wilbur soot imagine #creative writing #wilbur soot fanfiction #wilbur soot fic #wilbur soot fluff #wilbur soot x reader #wilbur soot x reader fluff #wilbur soot x y/n #wilbur soot x you

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cathers-world · 7 months

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hey!

i wrote a thing for the sub!wilbur prompt you got but im too shy to post it myself so im sending it to you through asks

cw explicit sexual content, edging, denial, pet play

"Stop shaking your leg it's distracting me!" your co-worker Kate says from the other side of the desk.

"Sure," You hadn't even realized you were shaking it to begin with. It's been hard to focus on anything really. This whole week feels like a blur you barely remember, with the only thing clear being Wil. Your Wil.

You clockout for the day, 'thank fuck it's finally the weekend.' and drive home. Fingers tapping on the steering wheel, barely focusing on the road in front of you as you go back to daydreaming about your good pup.

"I'm hoooooome." You announce and take your shoes off waiting for the usual eager response, but nothing. "Baby?" You glance over at the shoe rack, there doesn't seem to be a pair missing so he is probably not out.

"Wil? Are you napping?" You whisper as you slowly push the door open. And smile at the sight. He is in a deep asleep, his messy curls all over his forehead as his chest slowly rose and fell in a peaceful rhythm. So gorgeous. So innocent.

'Jesus christ! ' You squeeze your thighs together a bit huffing at the fact that him looking cute is all it takes for your body to go crazy. He doesn't even have to do anything; it's frustrating sometimes. How can one be so effortlessly hot?

You remember the first time you met him. Your friend introduced you to each other and you couldn't stop but tell him how you think he is so beautiful instantly. It came out without your permission. Your brain needed the man in front of you to know he looks angelic no matter if you ever ended up with him or not.

And here he was years later, laid asleep on your bed, the most amazing thing to ever happen to you.

"Hey, pup," You whisper as you slowly crawl into his side. Rubbing his back and kissing his forehead, "I'm home, love." You watch as his breathing changes and his eyes open, "Your eyes are so fucking cute, baby." You mutter out the compliment, he smiles and drags you in for a sweet kiss.

"Hey, you. I missed you," He says caressing your face. "I missed you too pup...so fucking much..." His expression changes at the pet name, or rather the way you say it. He knows that tone of voice. He craves it more than anything. It's all he can think about and dream of in the past few years.

You can almost see him slipping into subspace by the way his eyes glaze over. Or how his mouth goes slightly agape, silently begging for your figers. He is so cute. You watch as he moves his legs ever oh so slightly, trying to hide his desperate need.

"I need to keep you edged out for longer puppy, you are such a good boy when you are all denied and desperate, love." You say with a little smirk on your lips. You reach your right hand to his face, and start playing with his bottom lip.

"You have the most perfect lips you know that Wil? It's like gods themselves carved them." You say staring at you thumb, tracing his plump bottom lip and the perfect arch of the top one. You hear him whimper, and you feel it on your thumb too.

"Please..." He pleads with his puppy eyes staring right at you. God he is so gorgeous. "Please what puppy? What do you want?" You say, it's been years and yet he hasn't learned that he needs to use his words...or mayhaps he likes you coaxing it out of him.

"I...fuck," He whines and hides his face in the crook of your neck. "Poor baby is too edged out to function?" You giggle out the words, it's amusing but also oh so arousing, you can practically feel your wetness on your underwear. You love seeing him so needy...so needy for Your touch. Your good boy.

"Yea, I am," He says with a chuckle. "I had to stop myself from humping the pillows this morning after you left, baby." He breaths the words against your skin, still holding onto your back for dear life, "I need you so bad, love. It hurts." He whines as he tries to get even closer to you somehow.

"Awwwww babyyyyy. I'm so proud of you for stopping yourself and being a good boy. You are such a perfect pup for me." You coo as you tangle your fingers in his hair and pull it, maybe a bit rougher than necessary just to get a reaction out of him. It works, he whines as he looks at you again, eyes locked with your, god you wish he knew how gorgeous he really was like this.

"What is it that you want, darling? Use your words my pretty boy." You say playing with his hair and slowly rubbing his back. He whines, trying to force the words out of himself as his shyness begs him to stop, "I want you to fuck me, love. Please. I need to feel you around me. I need you so bad. I need to rut into you because it's the only way for my body do calm down. Please, I'll do anything, my love." He rushes the words out before hiding his face in your neck again.

"Fucking hell, Wil." You say now fully yanking his hair back, "You are driving me insane, pup." You say as you carsh your mouth into his.

i uhhhh i can write the rest but didnt know if you were comfortable with full smut in your asks. if you are you can let me know and i can send you the other part.

-subbur anon

Write.the.rest.

Also I’m 100% ok with head cannons/one shots in my ask’s!!

#wilbur soot oneshots #wilbur soot x y/n #wilbur imagine #wilbur soot #wilbur soot smut #wilbur soot x reader #wilbur smut #wilbur dream smp

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koreanbibliophilegirl · 3 months

Text

Made incorrect quotes for Temporal Transcendence(WIP). Why am I so obsessed with incorrect quotes.

Wilbur: You love me, right, Tommy?

Tommy: Normally, I'd say yes without hesitation, but I feel like this is going somewhere and I don't like it.

Tommy: This is such a bad idea.

Wilbur: Then why are you coming along?

Tommy: One of us needs to be able to talk the other Mages out of arresting us when this inevitably goes wrong.

Techno: Here's some advice.

Dave the Blood God: I didn't ask for any.

Techno(been a statue for a whole century now): Too bad. I'm stuck here with my thoughts and you're the only one who can hear me.

Young Tommy: You saved me. I owe you my life.

Techno: No thanks. I've seen it and I'm not very impressed.

Techno: English is a difficult language. It can be understood through tough thorough thought, though.

Wilbur: You need to stop.

Tommy: In my defense, I was left unsupervised.

The Time Mages: Wasn't Supreme Time Mage Jacobs with you?

Karl: In my defense, I was also left unsupervised.

Wilbur: HELP! I TOLD TECHNO I'D COOK DINNER TONIGHT BUT I CAN'T COOK!

Phil, pouring milk directly into the cereal bag: And you thought I could help?

Wilbur: I love you guys, you're the best thing that's happened to me.

Tommy: We're the best thing that's ever happened to you?

Wilbur: Yes!

Techno: I'm starting to feel a little sorry for you.

Tommy: *Screams*

Sapnap: *Screams louder to establish dominance*

Wilbur: Should we do something?

Karl: No, I want to see who wins.

Cop: You’re receiving a ticket for having three people on one motorcycle.

Phil: Shit.

Techno: Wait, three?

Cop: Yeah?

Tommy: OH MY GOD WILBUR FELL OFF!!!

Quackity, a Time Mage, about Tommy: Apparently we're getting someone new in the group.

Sapnap: Are we stealing them?

Karl: New or used?

Quackity: Wonderful responses, both of you.

Techno: Bianca, I'm sad.

Bianca Nihachu: *Holds out arms for a hug* It's going to be okay.

Tommy: Bo, I'm sad.

Bo Underscore, nodding: mood.

Karl: Name a more iconic duo than my crippling fear of abandonment and my anxiety. I'll wait.

Tommy: You and me!!!

Karl, tearing up: Okay.

Wilbur: I turned out perfectly fine!

Tommy: Wilbur, this morning you thought a ghost made your toast.

Wilbur: I DIDN'T PUT THE BREAD IN! YOU DIDN'T PUT THE BREAD IN!!!

Phil: Hey, you want some leftovers?

Techno: What's that?

Phil: You've never had leftovers???

Techno(grew up poor): No, because I'm not a quitter.

Tubbo: On a scale from "damn Daniel" to "fre sha vaca do", how are you feeling?

Ranboo: In between "it's an avocado, thanks" and "how did you defeat Captain America", but as a solid answer I would say "I don't need a degree to be a clothing hanger". How about you, Tommy?

Tommy: Probably "road work ahead".

Techno: I speak many languages, and this is none of them.

(These are for the sequel if I ever get around to it)

Wilbur, pretending to be General Soot of L'Manburg: What's up guys? I'm back.

Nemesis Nihachu: What the- you can't be here. You're dead. I literally saw you die.

Wilbur, sweating: Death is a social construct.

Tommy: You have to apologize to General Soot.

Wilbur: Fine.

Wilbur: 'Unfuck you' or whatever.

General Soot: I really like this whole 'good guy, bad guy' thing you guys have going on.

Wilbur: It's not an act, it's just that I'm mean and Tommy isn't.

Wilbur: I think we're missing something.

Tommy: Teamwork?

Techno: Cohesion?

Nemesis: A general sense of what we're doing?

Tommy: Have you seen a person named 'Technoblade' around here?

Antarctic Empire Citizen: Ugh, yes. He made a horrible mess of the blood fountain.

Tommy: It looks fine to me?

Citizen: IT USED TO BE WATER!!!

General Soot: How did none of you hear what I just said?

Tommy: I've been zoned out for the past two and a half hours.

Tobias: I got distracted about halfway through.

Nemesis: Ignoring you was a conscious decision.

Techno: Why is Wilbur so sad?

Tommy: He took one of those "Which L'Manburg-Era Historical Figure Are You?" quizzes.

Techno: And...?

Tommy: He got General Soot.

Tommy: Please, I'm begging you go to a doctor.

General Soot: I'm sorry is this OUR stab wound? Stay out of it.

General Soot, in a meeting: My policy is if you see something, say something.

Tobias: I saw a squirrel in a tree today!

Soot, with the tone of someone who is used to Tobias: Outstanding.

Soot: This is what I’m talking about people.

Wilbur: I'm 10 times funnier and sexier than you.

General Soot: 10 times 0 is still 0 though.

Wilbur: Joke's on you, I can't do math.

Tommy: Just be yourself.

Wilbur: 'Be myself'? Tommy, I have one day to win the L'Manburg soldiers over. How long did it take before you guys started liking me?

Tommy: Couple weeks.

Phil: Six months.

Techno: Jury's still out.

Wilbur: See, Tommy?

Wilbur: 'Be myself'. What kind of garbage advice is that?

General Soot: I'm an idiot.

Wilbur:

Tommy:

Nemesis:

Techno:

Soot:

Wilbur: If you're waiting for us to disagree, this is going to be a long day.

Nemesis: Whose turn is it to give the pep-talk?

Tommy: *sighing* "General Soot".

Wilbur, trying(and failing) to talk like Soot: Fuck shit up out there, but don't die.

Tobias: *wiping away a tear* So inspirational.

#tommyinnit #technoblade #philza #wilbur soot #tubbo #niki nihachu #nihachu #karl jacobs #quackity #Temporal Transcendence #dream smp #dsmp #Lilly tries to meme #sapnap #(tagged saonap instead of sapnap originally KEKW)#(also the OCs are ancestors of the main gang)

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average-vibe · 2 months

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I’m Mr Loverman (and i miss my lover, man.)

Pair: Wilbur Soot x Fem!Reader

Summary: A song fic based off of ‘Mr Loverman’ by Ricky Montgomery

Genre: Angst

TW: Alcohol, stalkerish behavior, language.

AN: Hi! I realized this song would make a good fic, so here we are! I did 0 research prior to writing this, so if i misinterpret anything, please lmk and i will fix it!

I’m headed straight for the floor,

the alcohol served it’s tour.

Wilbur sat, mindlessly staring into the floor, tears rolling down his face. A week, it had been, since you had decided you’d had enough of being left on read, being ignored, and being replaced by alcohol and music. He hated himself for it. He glanced over to the empty wine and Vodka bottles that were sitting on the opposite side of the room. He shut his eyes, just wanting to go back to sleep, and dream. He knew that you were there, in his dreams, comforting him and hugging him. Making him feel alive again.

And it’s heading straight for my skin,

Leaving me daft, and dim.

Ever since he was little, Wilbur had found himself scratching his skin often, as a nervous habit. Not because he was itchy, but simply because it got rid of his nerves. Now, as a older, more mature adult, he scratches his skin, more as a coping mechanism. That, along with the alcohol, left his eyes bloodshot and his body swollen.

I’ve got this shake in my legs,

Shaking the thoughts from my head.

Wilbur sat on a barstool at the old pub he usually went to, some friend inviting him. It’s not like he wanted to be there, but hey, at least he had a distraction from his vibrating leg, always bouncing up and down, courtesy of his growing depression and anxiety. When he was home alone, all he could think about was that moment where you yelled, shouted at him, told him to get out and go.

But who put these waves in the door?

I crack and out, I pour.

The alcohol had gotten to him after a few weeks, making him hallucinogenic, seeing things that he shouldn’t have seen. Zigzags, lines, everything was blurry. He couldn’t see straight. He saw you, smiling as you did. When he woke up from the lucid dreams and nightmares, he would cry, scream at himself for not being there for you more, all while nursing a hangover.

I’m Mr Loverman,

And I miss my lover, man.

I’m Mr Loverman,

Oh, and I miss my lover.

He would go to clubs, pubs, anywhere that had a seat, people, and a drink. He would eventually gain the confidence to vent to his family, friends, anyone who would listen. How he longed for you, he’d do anything for you. He was in love with someone who didn’t even know he ever did love them.

The ways in which you talk to me,

Have me wishin I were gone.

One day, he found you, at some party, dressed in your favorite dress, your hair curled and styled, heels clicking across the floor. When he first saw you, he wanted to hide, run, wherever he could go, he wanted to be. But unfortunately, you saw him, waving him over with a smile. Hey! Wilbur!, you’d call, with a toothy smile that sent his heart leaping. Although you didn’t mean for it to hurt him, he spent that night crying, thinking about how perfect, how beautiful you were, and how he left you.

The ways in which you say my name,

Have me running on and on.

You two had exchanged numbers that night, promising to remain friends, no matter how bad it hurt Wilbur. You’d text him, Hi! He’d respond, almost heartbrokenly, Hey. You’d meet up for coffee to talk about life, how everything was going. Everytime you’d say his name, his heart would skip 3 beats. All of a sudden, the feeling he got when everything started came right back to him, hitting him hard.

Oh, I’m cramping up,

I’m cramping, up.

His heart, it’s physically hurt. Not because he was in pain, but because you hit him so hard, so unexpectedly. Your smile, your eyes. Everything about you made him hurt more and more. He knew it was wrong, he knew it was against what he wanted to do, but he couldn’t help himself.

But you’re cracking up,

You’re cracking, up.

He didn’t realize it, but he started to flinch whenever you would laugh at one of his mates jokes, a twinge of jealousy running through his system. He cursed himself for it. Why were you laughing, while he was right there, eyebrows furrowed in emotional pain. He wanted to yell, to shout, to scream at you for not noticing how angry he was. Maybe it was the alcohol, maybe it was the depression he was fighting, maybe it was just how he felt. Whatever it was, it made him relentlessly angry.

I’m Mr Loverman.

And I miss my lover, man.

He didn’t so much miss you, anymore. He just missed the love, the way you loved him. He wasn’t so much infatuated with you anymore, more so what you did. Your looks didn’t draw him in, it was the way you treated him, as if he wasn’t some douche who dumped you for alcohol and his own relief.

I’m shattered now, I’m pouring out,

Upon this linoleum ground.

There he was again, crying on the floor, wanting it all to be over. Please, let it be over. He wanted to drown in the thought of you smiling and saying yes, accepting his offer to be in a relationship again. Instead, you had shook your head, saying that you’d already seen someone. That sent him spiraling, drowning in alcohol, head swimming through various memories.

I’m reeling in, my brain again,

Before it can get back to you.

He wouldn’t tell anyone what he thought, fearful that you’d back away, thinking he was so strange for thinking the things he did. No one knew that when he said he was “Busy”, he was really sat in bed, stress taking over his body.

Oh, what am I supposed to do?

Without you.

He was lost, a goner. No one heard of him for a while, texts going into read, never a response. It was pathetic, really, how depressed he was because of you. He didn’t know what to do with himself, or how to do anything anymore. It had cut too deep, it was the last straw. He couldn’t do it, he was lost.

I’m Mr Loverman,

And I miss my lover, man.

4 months later, he finally got his life together. He moved into a easier living situation, far away from wherever you were. He got a easy job, slowly getting promoted and making more money. He became successful. He was well-known, celebrated.

But there was always a little part of him, begging for some form of a reminder of who you were.

He missed his past lover, even though she didn’t even remember him.

—

AN: THIS TOOK 3 DAYS BRO!!! AND IT STILL SUCKS!!!!

anyways have a good day :)

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peninkwrites · 8 months

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How to Bury Your Brother:

A guide by Tommyinnit

crossposted to ao3

“You know, the guy known for writing the best instruction manuals on the fucking earth, eh? The Tommyinnit! Thought, well, might as well. Something to do while I dig. Bet I’m gonna be fucking genius at this shit too. It’s not… it’s not written down, more like, an unofficial audiobook, ‘cause… cause I can’t write and dig at the same time, see? Or it’s like a… an oral story that will be passed down for generations! My wisdom will benefit siblings everywhere of all ages! Ha.” A long, heavy pause. “So, uh. How to bury your brother. Well, first thing you gotta do, is, funny enough, dig him out. He got buried in the rubble, see? That’s not a fuckin’ universal, but it’s my deal here, so, fuck off. Um.”

(It was a quiet thing. For Tommy, things were rarely quiet, but earlier that day, at the start of it at least, he didn't want to make a sound. As if afraid he was going to wake him. On the morning of the 17th, early morning, dawn light only just cresting over the server, Tommy went to get him out.)

Tommy’s words are mumbled and accompanied by the scraping of a shovel on dirt. “Ground is starting to freeze… it is November…” A pause, he clears his throat. “Anyway! Getting ahead of m’self. I’d get up early. Early in the morning as you can stand and it helps if you didn’t really sleep the night before anyway, but hike on out there when the sun is just pokin’ its little head up over the trees and… and then you get him out.”

(Tommy was so desperate. He’d reached the cliffside, realized he couldn’t see Wilbur, and started fighting the mountainside, railing against the rubble with a desperate panic he almost found shameful. It was hard. It would get harder.)

“So, you gotta dig him out. You know he’s under there, but you got no idea what state he’s in, yeah? And… and it could get ugly. Uglier even than the fucked up city behind you, but you won’t know until you get in there, so. Might have to gear yourself up for a bit, alright? Have a… have a little cry out on the cliffside––not me, obviously. I’m Tommyinnit, but you might have to––and then you get to digging. A-And you might get stupid too, alright? Again, not me, but you might get… might get stupid. You might start clawin’ your hands all bloody, ‘cause you get it in your thick skull that he’s alive down there. That he… that he might need you to save him again.”

(Tommy was almost struck by relief when he found him. Wilbur’s body had not been crushed in the collapse, rather, sheltered. By chance, an alcove made in the destruction. Tommy unearthed him, and maybe he could have left him buried right here, right where Wilbur dug his own grave, but he couldn’t do that. He promised he wouldn’t give up on him.)

Once more, the sharp clang of the shovel hitting dirt. “Sorry, doing digging. Distracted. He’s not alive down there. Trust me, he’s just not. You… you saw it. And you saw it on your comm later, so you know he’s gone, so don’t get yourself all worked up, it’ll be a fuckin’ let down when you see him like that–” Tommy gets choked up, forced to pause. “ Fuck. I’m not crying or nothing, I’m just distracted, a-and digging. And fuck you anyway, nothing wrong with crying! You gotta get your… your toxic masculinity checked or some shit!”

(Tommy knelt down beside him, and at first he couldn’t bring himself to touch him. His breathing was shaky as he stared at the blood soaking his brother’s chest. He buried it and instead fell silent while his gaze wandered up to Wilbur’s open eyes, and a vacant smile that looked so profoundly relieved.)

“Get yourself… get yourself ready, alright? ‘Cause it’s gonna be fucked up. He’s gonna be all bloody and his eyes–” Tommy gets choked up again and cuts himself off. He takes a shaky breath before making himself continue. “They’re still gonna be open. So, you close ‘em. And… and you ignore the fact that the piece of shit is smiling. You… you might just be imagining it. ‘Cause why the fuck would he be smiling?! No, seriously, what the fuck? Why is he… why was he smiling?” A trembling inhale. “It’s gonna be hard to get him uncovered, and… and you might want to ask for help. I didn’t, ‘cause I’m strong, you see? Big man Tommyinnit didn’t need no help movin’ those rocks! He just… he kept pushing even when it scared him, even when he thought he was gonna hurt ‘im but– I didn’t hurt him ‘cause he was dead. It… it didn’t hurt him.” A pause. “It didn’t hurt him.”

(Tommy put one arm underneath Wilbur’s legs, and the other around his torso. He'd thought he wouldn't be able to lift him, and it was an awful feeling when he stood and realized how light Wilbur had gotten. Tommy knew he had lost weight in Pogtopia, but feeling it like that was worse. He could feel Wilbur’s ribs. He was stiff from rigor mortis, but Tommy was stiff too from the aches and pains of a battle. Tommy stood so slowly, afraid of dropping him, and even as Wilbur is too thin in his arms, he was still heavy. Tommy was slow and careful, even as he knew dropping Wilbur at that point wouldn’t have hurt him.)

“Right. Right, then, you got ‘im uncovered, eyes closed and all that, next bit is getting him out of there. Because you can’t bury him there. You’re not gonna fucking leave him down there. You’re not.”

(Tommy wasn't sure how he was going to get him out of there, but nonetheless, he slowly turned back the way he had come, and stepped out into the morning sun. He could have waited and gotten help, he didn't want to. It was hard. It was so impossibly hard to step over the rubble and carry him, but he never let go. He never fell, he just kept walking. He couldn’t see his feet around Wilbur’s body, not that he tried to, he’d only looked straight ahead. He’d instead felt his way over the rocks, he’d prayed not to fall and break his neck. He’d known he wouldn’t be able to carry him far, but he’d made it at least out of the dark and the earth and up on top of the hill that remains intact above the ruins. No one else was up yet. Tommy had come early for a reason.)

“So, you’re gonna be careful, yeah? He won’t weigh much, so you don’t got to worry about that. Even though it’s probably gonna worry you, ‘cause why the fuck doesn’t he weigh nothing?!” His rage is cut off by a shaky sigh. He continues more steadily. “He’s still a tall bitch, so it won’t be super easy, but you’re gonna make it. Alright? The both of you, you’re gonna drag him to the top of the hillside. Somewhere… somewhere not too far, but somewhere pretty.”

(He made it to the top of the hill before he collapsed, Wilbur hitting the ground, Tommy falling with him, and freezing, stunned and horrified, as he dropped his brother’s body. He couldn’t keep going anymore. He just couldn’t. Tommy didn't cry. He doesn’t know why he didn’t cry, but he didn’t. He had stared at Wilbur’s face. For a moment, weary calm was replaced by sharp rage. He shut Wilbur’s eyes. He couldn’t stand the sight of them.)

“Somewhere pretty.”

(Tommy set him down so carefully, as delicately as he could. He stood on aching knees and unsteady feet, and then he turned away from the body. Then, he started to talk.)

“Right, once you put him down, all nice and gentle like, even though he won’t care anymore, then you can get on to the digging bit. I know, feels funny to drag your brother out of the grave he made for one you made, but trust me, mine is loads better. It’s… it’s gonna be loads better…”

Tommy has an iron shovel. He started to dig. It’s November. The air is cold and the ground not quite frozen, but stiff and difficult to move; rigor mortis has set in for the year. This is hard too. Maybe even harder than carrying him. Tommy digs. He’s already tired. He’s been tired for a long time. Maybe he’ll rest, but not until this is finished.

He is careful and methodical. He wants it to be perfect, so it is. He is so unlike himself as he digs out a rectangle, over six feet in length, over three feet in width with such precision. Then he starts to dig down.

“You’ll mark it out, see? Make it like, a bit taller than him and a bit wider. As for me, that makes it over six feet long and three feet wide. Dunno about your brother. Measure him, or whatever the fuck.”

His knuckles ache, his palms blister, and his chest feels very tight, but he doesn’t stop. It’s a labor of love. He steps down into the grave once it gets too hard to bend down and keeps going. Once, he pauses. He’s damp with sweat, the sun has finally broken through, and soon people will come to search the crater.

“It’s gonna… it’s gonna start to hurt. Holy fuck is it hurtin’ right now, your hands are gonna hurt like a bitch and you’re gonna get all sore–– Which! To be fair, is because you fought a war yesterday! Or… Or I did. Dunno about you. I did. We… we won–” Once more, words broken by a buried sob. “Did you know that? We won the war, Wil! We… oh fuck…”

Tommy cannot stop. He keeps digging. That is why it hurts so badly. When he finally cries, it’s because of how much his hands hurt, his whole body aches, rather than his reason for doing this in the first place. It’s cool in the grave, sweat cold on his back, the sun not doing enough. It’s a labor of love.

He doesn’t know what more he can do. He has run out of ways to save his brother, because there is nothing left to be saved.

There is quiet for a time, save for the sound of digging, and the occasional breathless, whimpering sob.

“You… you gotta dig for a long time, see? Make it real deep. Deep enough you can’t see out of it. That’s when… that’s when you’ll probably get bored enough to write– to talk out a book, yeah? Write a different instruction manual, though. I’ve got this one covered. Even if… even if no one is gonna fuckin’ hear it, it sure beats talking to your dead brother…”

Tommy can no longer see up over the grave. So he stops. He claws his way out and finds Wilbur exactly as he left him. He didn’t expect anything different, but still, the sight of him comes as a disappointment. He looks no less dead in the sun, skin a sickly white, eyes finally closed, there is no way for Tommy to ignore the blood soaking his chest. Tommy stands slowly. He stares, as if expecting Wilbur to move. To sit up, to say something terrible or something kind, but of course he doesn’t move. He’s dead.

Tommy wants to shout at his brother. He wants to scold him for abandoning them, to ask him why?

“Don’t… don’t bother talking to ‘im, alright? However much you want to, there’s no point. He’s… he can’t fucking hear you. Not like he… not like he ever listened anyway…”

Tommy puts his weary body through one last torment. He slowly picks up the body, struggling under the weight of it, and despite knowing Wilbur isn’t here, he still tries to be gentle. He turns to the beautifully dug grave, and he stops. His whole body hurts. He doesn’t know how much longer he can bear the weight of it. Tommy falls to his knees. He still holds on. He sits back and holds his dead brother close, hugging him tightly, even as he no longer settles right in Tommy’s arms.

“I don’t… I don’t want to let go… I don’t want to let him go… I don’t– oh, fuck, Wil, I don’t know how to do this! Please! Please, I don’t know how to fucking do this!”

There is no reply.

Holding him feels wrong. He’s so stiff and he smells like gunpowder and dying and cigarettes, but not even 24 hours ago this had been his big brother. This had been everything he had tried to save, just like that crater over the hillside.

Tommy needs to bury him. He doesn’t want to wait for him to rot.

“I don’t… I don’t wanna bury him, though…”

Silence. Perhaps for too long, but finally, Tommy speaks again.

“Right. Okay, you… next thing you gotta do, is you gotta get up. You don’t… you don’t fucking drop him in the grave, you put him down next to the grave. And… and you hop down in it for him, got it?”

As always, he goes through the doorway first, as always, he beckons his brother through, impatient like only a little brother can be. He pulls Wilbur into the grave with him, and places him gently on the ground. Maybe he should have brought a blanket. Or even a flag to cover him. It’s too late for that now. What’s done is done, and Tommy doesn’t think he can go back at this point. If he walks away now, he won’t be able to return to finish the job.

“You… you put him down, real careful like. A-And you put something with him. If you can. You give him a blanket or a flag or– or something important.” Another heavy pause. “If you… if you can…”

Tommy climbs out of the grave. Wilbur does not follow.

“Oh, now we’re getting to the big stuff, lads! That was just the… just the prep work. Now we get to the actual burying bit! Straight forward, really. You do what you did with your shovel before, just in reverse.” Tommy takes up his shovel again. “A-And we don’t look down, got it? We… we don’t look.”

He does not look down as he buries him. He just keeps going until the earth is gone, and when he turns to look, it��s like he’s still expecting to see him. He still thinks he should see his brother there, but there is only the earth.

“He’s buried. You did it. Well done,” he says weakly. “But… but you’re not done yet,” he sniffs and wipes his eyes. “Dunno about your brother, but my big brother doesn’t deserve an unmarked grave.” Tommy gets out a large flat stone. “Dunno what he deserves, but it’s not that…” He mumbles.

Tommy drags a large, flat stone over the freshly turned earth. He hunches over it, a mess of mud and sweat and day old blood, and he scratches out his name. That is as far as he gets. Wilbur Soot.

“Put something nice on it. Something special along with their name.”

Tommy doesn’t know what else to say. Nothing would be fair, nor good enough, nor bad enough, for everything his brother is. Was.

“That’s… that’s all it takes. You bury him. Only thing left to do is…” Tommy stares down at his grave. He cannot say it. Only thing left to do is leave.

Nonetheless, he does not stay. He stands, leaning on his shovel, so weighted with exhaustion. But he still goes back down the hill, to where Tubbo so many others have started to piece the world back together again. He leaves Wilbur behind and joins them.

#my writing #dsmp #the chronology in this is weird ok imagine it like a movie cutting to the past until you catch up to the present #it's a little different roll with it for me <3 #takes place on the morning of the 17th. after. you know.#c!tommy #tommyinnit #c!crimeboys

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soratsuart · 1 year

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QSMP Day 31 Lore Summary

You know, I thought this one would actually be calm since single parents and parents that had to take care of their children alone for the week could take the weekend off.

I was wrong 💀

To start off the day, Leonarda fucking died, but it was all Mandela Effect so it actually didn't happen (it was due to lag and the admins decided not to count it).

Later Wilbur logged in with the intention of finishing Tallulah's house, but he kept getting interrupted after meeting Gegg, who he did not like and decided to send him in a quest to get stuff for him so he would leave. He later felt bad about it and got worried Gegg would get hurt. Also, Tallulah expressed jealousy upon seeing Wilbur pay so much attention to Gegg, but he assured her she's his only child, so it's okay.

In the meantime Slime went back to his regular skin and went visit (see: vandalize) Roier's house, getting killed in the process by Roier (which actually made Wilbur worried about Gegg). After getting the stuff for Wilbur he went back to his place as Gegg to give it to him and then started teleporting using the waystone so he could change back and forth between Gegg and himself to go talk to Wilbur as himself. He learned Wilbur didn't like Gegg when they had a conversation together as himself, which made him sad.

Later Quackity logged in and visited Wilbur to try and convince him to let him take care of Tallulah for the day after he logged out. Wilbur however wasn't sure about it, saying Tallulah was going to bed soon. They then got interrupted by Gegg, much to Quackity's dismay. Wilbur mentioned he wanted to go find Bobby's parents to complain about him burning Tallulah's garden, so they all went back to Roier's house, and Wilbur proceeded to use the mailboxes Bad and Dapper had left at everyone houses to write a Karen complain note ever then immediately flew back home with Tallulah to tuck her into bed and leave for the day.

However Quackity had other plans, and as soon as he saw Wilbur log out he went over to his house and convinced Tallulah to spend the day with him. They went back to Roier's where he, Gegg and Bad + Dapper (who had arrived a bit before Quackity left to get Tallulah) were chatting and he just. He fucking told them Tallulah was his adoptive daughter and even lied about his relationship with Wilbur to convince the others about this. This man is not okay.

Bad however realised something was wrong, so he took Tallulah home while Quackity was distracted with getting therapy. After that they went back to Roier's house and spied on the therapy session before deciding that this family is fucking crazy, so he went back to Tallulah's house and left a note for Wilbur warning him about what had happened. He also theorised a bit about what was happening with Gegg and made a connection between him and Slime (this man is gonna be silenced one day, I swear).

Meanwhile therapy is going amazing(ly horribly). Quackity and Gegg have some family therapy activities before Quackity finally admits that he can't take care of Gegg and reveals to Roier that Gegg is actually Slime, who goes back to his real form. They have a bit of an argument before Slime says no one likes Gegg, which Quackity is shocked to hear since he says he does like Gegg and he just can't be his parent because he has no resources. Slime gets emotional about this since he had never been told that, and Quackity and Roier hype him up. Slime changes back to being Gegg (which apparently is a painful transformation) and Quackity asks him who he wants to hurt. Gegg says "Everyone who isn't Gegg", but clears up that Quackity and Roier apparently are Gegg.

Wilbur, however, is not Gegg, so Quackity proposes to go vandalize his house as a warning, but says to leave Tallulah out of this. The other two agree and the trio goes to Wilbur's house and start destroying everything, with Quackity finding Bad's letter and rewriting it so it instead warns about Bad planning to kill Tallulah.

Bad himself arrives then and realises just how bad the situation is as he looks at all the destruction and asks what is going on. He also hears Gegg talking and realises he sounds like Slime. At some point, Tallulah leaves. After some arguing with the group, the trio leave and him and Dapper try to fix the garden when Quackity comes back demanding to know where Tallulah is and threatening Bad and Dapper if they don't give her back, but Dapper calms him down and he leaves for the day.

Tallulah comes back then, shocked and hurt to see her house destroyed. Bad consoles her while planning out what to do next. He and Dapper decide not to fix the house so they have evidence of everything and they take photos of it as well. They also recover the rewritten note and take it away. Dapper suggests leaving Tallulah at Philza's for safety, which they all agree is the best course of action, and then they keep theorising what is going on until Bad just. Figures out Quackity's entire plan. He also realised this is due to Tilín's death and that Gegg is Slime (I'm telling you, he will be silenced some day at this pace).

Bad and Dapper take Tallulah to Philza's house and tell her to make sure to tell Phil and Wilbur what had happened. They also leave a note for Philza explaining what had happened and telling him they need to talk, then goes back to Wilbur's place and leaves a coded message for him he hopes he can decipher so he knows where to find Tallulah without revealing her location to other people.

And that's it. I'm... Surprised at just how much can happen lorewise in a couple hours. And scared of it too. Looks like stuff is going to get interested from now on, guys.

#qsmp #qsmp lore summary #also Quackity said today there's gonna be a big announcement #so let's see what that is all about #soratsu speaks

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cyncerity · 1 year

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i have no self control so i finished it today

here’s chapter 1 out of idfk! I vehemently refuse to plan things in advance beyond just various scenes I want to happen :D

I’m actually super excited for this one and really proud of it so I hope y’all like it as much as I do!

tw: parental neglect ig this is different from what I normally write

“Honestly, Wilbur, house arrest?!” His mother scolded him. Wilbur sighed and dropped his bags at the door, pushing up his glasses to rub his eyes, pointedly looking away from his mom. “I don’t hear from you in years and I suddenly get a random call that says you’re getting dumped at my house because you’ve been put under house arrest??” “I know, I’m sorry mum-“ “Were you just planning to drop off the face of the earth? Would you have just never come back here if you weren’t arrested? What were you arrested for? Why wouldn’t they just drop you off at your house? You’re an adult-“ “That’s pretty simple, I don’t have one.” “Wilbur!!”

Wilbur walked over to the couch and dropped himself on it, head in his hands. He could feel his mother’s eyes on him, staring and trying to take in how much he’d changed. He couldn’t blame her. He’d left when he was 18 to pursue music, and look at where that got him. Homeless, lonely, and arrested, the court ordered anklet digging uncomfortably into his skin at a measly 21 years old. He was a mess. An exhausted, hopeless mess.

He heard quiet footsteps as his mother came to sit next to him, and a warm arm laid over his shoulder. “You know I love you. I don’t care that you were arrested, or why you were, I really don’t. But…why didn’t you come home? I’ll always be here to help you, you know that, right? Did I…did I do something wrong?” “No!” Wilbur quickly said, head still in his hands. “No, you’re a wonderful mother, i’m just a terrible son. I..I don’t know why I didn’t come home, I’m sorry, but it’s not your fault.” His mother sighed and pulled him closer, and he relished in the comfortable silence. It had been so long since he had felt like anyone around him actually cared, and yet his mothers patience and love for him was seemingly endless, even now, even for a horrible fuck up son like him. He didn’t deserve her. If he was being honest with himself, that’s why he didn’t come back home to her when times got tough for him. Why should she have to deal with him? It wasn’t her fault that he turned out a wreck, she did the best she could as a single mother, even putting aside her passions while she put her whole focus into him.

Speaking of that, since he left, she certainly seemed to pick her interests back up, if the messy house was any indication. Or maybe messy wasn’t the right word, maybe so trashed and horder-like that it was hard to believe anyone actually lived here. Wilbur looked up from his hands to fully take in the mess that completely covered the main floor of the house. Walls were covered in taped up drawings of creatures of all kind, floors covered in similar scribbles and notes. There were some cabinets with small observation cases full of taxidermic bugs and what looked to be small…weapons? Saddles?

Well, her collection had definitely grown in the past few years.

“I see your hobby has been going well.” Wilbur said, trying to deflect the situation. Luckily for him, he knew his mother. And if there was anything that could distract her, it was asking her about her odd fascination with all things tiny. “Oh! Yeah, I forgot it’s been a while since you’ve been here. My collection had grown…a fair bit. I haven’t touched your room, though! It’s the same as it’s been, things have just been…messier.” She said, getting up to show him around. He chuckled softly as he watched her make her way around the room, carefully avoiding the piles and piles of documents scattered around the floor. She stopped at a wall of computers, pointing up at them. “I’m close, though. I have cameras set up all over the forest, and I don’t think they’ve noticed them…yet. They’re fast, but I think I have some arguable proof.”

His mother leaned over the keyboard, frantically searching for whatever new clip she had. Wilbur smiled. He couldn’t say he actually believed in any of it, despite what she had taught him growing up. Of course the idea was fun, but the older he got, the harder it was to suspend his disbelief that there may be tiny people living in the forest. How his mom kept that childlike faith in her beliefs despite the lack of proof for years and years he couldn’t know, but he was happy for her. She had something to put her heart into and believe in, and Wilbur had forgotten what that was like after music had proven to be a bust.

He snapped back to the screen as his mom made an excited noise and leaned back to point at the screen. “See! There!” Wilbur looked for a moment before taking a few very careful steps around her findings and towards the screen. It was a blurry freeze frame; one smaller brown and reddish bird, one small brown-ish spec, and a much larger black blur that seemed almost iridescent. A couple of birds and a bug, probably, the finch looking one in the lead and the large black bird and bug close behind. “Mom I’m sorry, but…what evidence am I supposed to be seeing in a bird chase?” “That’s a raven,” she pointed to the black bird, “that bird is most likely a common redpoll, and judging from the wing color and shape that’s probably a bee. But here’s the thing!” She swung back to Wilbur, an excited, manic look in her eye. And people wondered where he got his crazy from. Certainly wasn’t his father, he never knew the bastard. “The bee is out of the Ravens sight, so it isn’t chasing a food source.” She continued. “Ravens don’t go after other bird species, either, and there’s no reason a bee would chase a potential predator. But look here,” she pointed back to the screen and Wilbur leaned closer, the fuzz of the old tv brushing against his face. “you see it?”

Looking where she was pointing, there were a few thin brown straps on the bird, and a small blurry green and slightly yellow blob on its back. The raven had a spot on it where the black wasn’t as iridescent, where it looked like something was wrapped around it. It also had something on it’s back; a greyish blob with more hints of brown and black and also white, weirdly enough. And looking at the bee, it also looked like it was missing a few legs, and was built strangely, along with having something green on it. He looked back to his mom, who looked more proud of herself than he’d seen her be in years. He was sure everything on screen had a logical explanation, but who was he to break his poor mother’s heart?

“That’s great! That’s really, really amazing mom.” He said as she squealed and hugged him. “I knew you would think so!” she leaned back, hands still on his arms as she made eye contact with him and sighed. “Fuck, here I am rambling when you’ve still got settling in to do. Let’s get your bags and head upstairs, yeah? Your old room is waiting for you, and who knows how long it’s been since you slept in a bed, you impossible child.” She said, letting go and grabbing his two measly bags and guitar case. Wilbur rolled his eyes and took his guitar case from her, given that it was the heaviest. “Hey, I’m not impossible, I’m stubborn, and I get that from you, y’know.” He heard his mom mockingly repeat him and scoff from the top of the steps, and he laughed. God, he’d missed her.

~~~

“I swear to fucking god!” Phil yelled, storming his way through his castle, Techno walking quickly behind, struggling to keep pace. “I need him for one thing and he just fucking disappears! It’s a miracle I haven’t strangled that child with my bare hands.” He stopped momentarily to command more guards to triple check Tommy’s room, and Techno finally managed to catch up, panting slightly. “You know this isn’t unlike him, Phil. He likes to do his own thing, wonder where he gets that from.” “I get that he’s too much like me for his own good, but at least I was always able to take account of myself and get my shit done.” Phil responded with venom in his tone. “He’s irresponsible, he’s brash, he’s rude, I don’t know how he ended up like this or what I could have done better for him.” “I’d respond but I’m assuming that was rhetorical…” he muttered under his breath. “What was that, Techno?” “Nothing, your majesty.”

Phil continued his walk and ended up out of the palace, the sky above them turning a dark grey and a low rumble of thunder cracking through the silence. Phil, however, seemed undeterred, ending up by his stable, his trusty crow waiting for him. He pet the bird’s beak gestured to a few more guards. “Get Brian saddled, I’m heading out for a bit.” “Do you really think this is necessary?” “You forget, Techno, Tommy thinks he’s so smart, but I’m his father. He’s the teenager and I’m the adult; I’m always a step ahead.” He said, holding up his necklace. A chunky green emerald swung from a thin leather rope, identical to one that Tommy wore every day. “I thought that was to help Tommy with his magic?” “It is…mostly,” Phil said, dropping the necklace back down to his chest. “It has a lot of magic stored in it, Tommy’s does, too. His is a chip off from mine, after all. In a pinch, though, it can be used to track. As long as Tommy is wearing his, I can get him to me. If I was truly in a desperate situation, I could call Tommy to me right now. But as it stands, that takes far too much of the necklace’s power, and he just needs to learn a lesson about refusing his duties and disobeying his father.” “It’s a magic session, Phil, he practices all the time, it can’t be that much of a deal. Besides, there’s a storm coming, this isn’t a good idea.” “He’s been blowing them off for 2 months,” Phil said, straddling his bird, Brian cooing softly. “And he knows that I’m rarely ever free for them, he needs to take this more seriously if he’s going to lead. Besides, if he’s still not home before the storm starts, that’s all the more reason to find him before he lets himself get hurt.”

“Phil-“ “I’ll be ok, I promise, mate.” Phil said, eyes softening as he leaned down to his right hand man. “I’ve never lied to you before have I?” “…no, sir.” Techno said, defeated. “Have a safe flight, I’ll see you home soon. If you don’t come back with Tommy by nightfall I’m coming to find you myself.” “Relax, I‘ll be fine. I run this goddamn forest, remember?” And with that, Phil was off, Brian taking off like a shot off the stable’s branch.

Techno couldn’t help the sinking feeling in his gut as he watched Phil shrink into the distance.

~~~

Wilbur was settling in as well as he thought he would be. One thing he’d grown to hate in his short amount of time at his old house was his court ordered punishment. Other than the ankle monitor, he had to do “community service.” Of course, the court hadn’t known at the time that there was literally no community to service for miles and miles at his house, and he didn’t have a license anymore (you do donuts on a private frozen lake one time) (ok maybe 6 but that guy was an asshole). So his “community service” consisted of cleaning up the forest; turns out that the one and only road near the forest was a pretty popular spot for passerby’s to toss trash. Most of his afternoons were spent along the side of a mostly undisturbed road that had way more trash that it logically should for how new the road seemed; he doubted anyone other than the jail car he’d been driven down in had been on the road for months.

Still, he donned the eye-sore yellow “hey! i’ve been to jail and i’m serving my sentence to community!” vest and grabbed a beanie and fingerless gloves. It was spring, but under all the overhang of the trees he knew it’d feel cooler than it was, which he accounted for when he put on a yellow flannel sweater and thick slightly dirty and ripped jeans, ones he wouldn’t mind getting dirty since he was going to be kneeling on the dirt. One step onto his porch told him it was also definitely gonna storm, the sky growing dark and that spring-time smell of rain filling his senses. He decided to lace up heavy steel toed and already worn and muddied work boots and threw a thick grey hooded t-shirt on for good measure under the vest in case it (or more like when it) rained. He wished he had better than a simple hood, but he didn’t know where the umbrellas were. He’d love to ask his mother, but she had already head out that morning to double check that her cameras wouldn’t be damaged by the rain.

He hoped she just got out before the storm.

~~~

Phil flew faster as the wind started to pick up and the thunder grew louder. Brian was sturdy, and above all else fast, but Phil knew his bird’s limits. He was getting tired, and Phil wasn’t any closer to Tommy somehow. He wished his stupid crystal could work better, but it was really a game of hot or cold until he got close enough to Tommy that the shard gave him some magic feeling that his son was close by and could lead him from there. It was stupid and time consuming, but he couldn’t risk just calling Tommy to him. Turns out he probably should have listened to Techno; this storm was shaping up to be a big one, and he knew he’d need the extra magic his necklace provided in order to repair whatever damage the rain caused to his forest.

He ended up near the tar strip through the middle of his forest (the damn humans put it there years ago, and though their cursed machines came through the forest sometimes, those instances were few and far between, thankfully)(still, fuck those humans). He may hate it, but it ran through the forest somewhat evenly, so he’d be able to hopefully sense at least what side of it Tommy was on if he just went down the middle.

The storm was getting heavier, but he couldn’t give up now. There was no sign of Tommy. Phil realized at some point that his concern had shifted from “i have to teach him a lesson about wasting my time” to “oh god where is my son is he ok.” He wasn’t surprised though, really. He did truly, really care about his son, even if Tommy didn’t think so. If he had all the time in the world, he’d spend it with him, he would. But he can’t. He’d wanted to be the one to teach Tom to read, to watch his first steps, to see him grow into the young man he was now. But he hadn’t. Tommy had been raised by royal staff who’s names Phil had never cared to know. He’d been there to hear Tommy’s first word, though, but he wished it would have been under better circumstances.

It had been “Tech,” and he’d said it while witnessing one of the most brutal and gut-wrenching arguments he’d ever had with Technoblade, out of the few they’ve fought. He’d learned that Techno was skipping his guard duties in secret to spend time with Tommy. And he’d been outraged, for some reason. He’d burst into a room where Techno was telling a harmless tale to a baby Tommy and screamed at him for neglecting his duty and fooling off instead. Tommy had people to be there for him, and Phil had never cleared Techno to be one of them. Techno argued that Tommy needed someone who cared about him, not just people who were rewarded for giving him food and attention. He needed people who wanted him, and Phil clearly didn’t. It’d stung like a knife to the chest at the time, but he knew where Techno was coming from now.

The fight grew worse and worse for minutes before he’d heard the desperation in Tommy’s infant babble. They were silenced as tears rolled down his chubby infant cheeks when he realized someone who he cared about was so upset, calling out to the only person who’d ever shown him voluntary affection. And it hadn’t been Phil. It wasn’t his father, it was his father’s guard and friend. Even now, though Tommy didn’t associate with Techno as much anymore since he was always with Phil, Tommy loved Techno more than Phil. And Phil would never resent Techno for that. He trusted Techno with his life, and if Tommy had to look up to someone other than Phil, he was glad it was his most trusted confidant, but he couldn’t stop it from hurting.

His kingdom thrived, his people were happy, and his son hated him. It was just a fact of his life, at this point. Even when Phil did his best to reconnect with Tommy when he was younger, when he was finally becoming his own person, it all went downhill. They’d been the closest they’d ever been for those few years, but it all plummeted in one conversation, and Tommy never saw him the same again after that.

All he could hope is that someday, when Tommy is king, he’ll see how hard it is, and know that his dad did his best to keep him safe and happy.

~~~

Wilbur sighed as he pulled his hood farther over his head to keep his glasses from getting wet as rain started down. Yup, he’d been right. Definitely rain. Should’ve worn contacts. Damn, and he’d just started down the road, it’d be hours till he was done for the day. Still, he sighed and picked up packets of chips and broken beer bottles with his cold slippery metal trash-grabber-thing and shoved them into a garbage bag.

Unfortunately, things only got worse the longer he was out there. He’d made it fairly deep into the woods at that point, but the rain pounded onto him like hail and thunder roared around him. He just honest to god wanted to go home and sit with a cup of tea and listen to his mom ramble about whatever new thing she’d seen in woods. But lucky him, his ankle shackle tracked his movements. He was only allowed to be in the house and a little ways into the front or backyard during the day. During his torture hours (that’s what he liked to call his court ordered punishments), he was not allowed to be in the house. Instead, he had to remain on the road and somewhat into the woods for his designated amount of hours or else he’d get a couple of very stern police officers at the front door telling his mother that he was on thin ice and to do what he was ordered to unless he wanted jail time. He did not, thank you very much.

He flinched as lightning struck a tree a ways behind him. Holy shit, this was actually getting pretty bad. Was his mom still out here? Had she gone home when the rain started? God, he hoped so. But all he could do for now was pick shit up and wait it out.

It wouldn’t be that long till he got home.

~~~

Phil panted, barely able to breathe through his panic as he pushed Brian to go faster. Rain started to pound on him, but he didn’t care. He was becoming frenzied. Oh god, where was Tommy? Was he hurt? Was he back at the castle, having heard the thunder and realizing that it was stupid to be out on his own? Brian softly chittered beneath him, but he could barely process it. Phil had to find Tommy. He just had to. He couldn’t leave his little boy out here alone, cold, scared…

Phil yelped as Brian swerved out of his control, landing on a nearby tree branch that only somewhat shielded them from the storm. “Brian, wh-“ He heard a soft coo and only then felt minute quivering beneath him. He reached out a hand and felt his wings, which were shaking badly. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, buddy, you’re probably pretty tired, huh…” He said, getting off the crow and petting his head. Brian pressed his head lightly into Phil’s hand as a response, and Phil reached over to his saddle and pulled out some berries and a water pouch, holding them out in front of Brian. He immediately perked up and opened his beak a little bit, enough for Phil to drop the food and pour water in. Brian cooed and nestled down onto the branch a bit more. Phil sighed and sat down next to him; seemed like they wouldn’t be moving for a little while.

They sat in silence for a while, Phil listening to the raid patter violently on the leaves above him while some stray droplets broke through and struck where he sat. He tried to even his breathing and think with a level head, but to no avail. He tapped his foot anxiously with no other way to get his nervous energy out, pulling at some of the leaves on his wrists. If Techno were here, he’d tell him to stop, but as it was, Phil was left to sit with his own thoughts as the storm raged around him.

Until the worst happened.

He wasn’t sure why his mind hadn’t registered the thunder around him. Maybe he’d gotten so used to hearing it in the past few hours, maybe he just didn’t think enough of it to even process it. All he knew after the fact was that it had been so loud it made the forest around him shake and caused a violent thud in his chest, but he hadn’t heard the warning until it was too late.

The clap of lightning around him was deafening, and snapped him out of whatever anxious spell he was in. Brian practically screamed as the trunk and the branch they were sitting broke with a ear crunching snap and heat engulfed him for a moment. He felt petals burn as pain bloomed in him and felt the gust of wind as Brian lifted in the air to avoid being hit or burned, lurching his wings downwards to try and grab Phil. And as much as Phil loved Brian, he was fast, not agile.

No amount of speed could help Phil as Brian’s beak barely missed one of his remaining petals and Phil felt himself free fall towards his forest floor. Those seconds felt like a lifetime, some parts of him knowing that he could save himself if he called onto his magic, some parts reminiscing on would happen to his kingdom, his best friend, his son…

would Tommy miss him?

He closed his eyes as the muddied grass grew closer and closer. He wasn’t sure what he wanted his last thought to be, he wasn’t sure why he was worried about it, all he could do was accept his death, knowing that once he hit the cold ground the earth would reclaim him and he’d become part of the forest he’d worked so hard to lead.

Phil landed hard, but…it didn’t feel like the cold ground he was expecting. It was damp, sure, but…warm. He heard Brian screech, but shockingly heard a different noise in response. He heard a gasp from a voice he’d never heard. It was a woman, he thought, but he couldn’t focus in on anything she said after or what was going on. He was fading out quickly, but he was alive, for now at least. The ground below him moved, the warmth starting to surround him, and the rain stopped hitting him. He should have been more concerned about what was going on, but he couldn’t find it in himself to stay awake anymore.

As he faded out of consciousness, he didn’t notice the lack of the weight that normally hung from his neck.

~~~

Logically, Kristin knew she should have gotten out of the storm before it got this bad. But she’d never really been on logic’s side, why start now?

She had started to run home when the thunder got worse, though.

Her rain boots pounded heavily on the road as she sprinted back to her house. Jeez, she hoped Wilbur’s officers could cut him a break with this one. She’d lived in this forest for over a decade and this was the worst storm she’d seen in a long, long while. Wilbur was never usually one to take instructions too seriously, so she hoped he’d just given up on the minimum hours and fucked off to go home. But she knew he also didn’t want to be in jail in case the officers were as heartless as she was lead to believe, so she couldn’t really be sure.

She practically jumped out of her skin as lightning hit a tree beside her, the leaves immediately starting to burn as bits of the top broke away and fell to the forest floor. It was getting dangerous out here, she needed to go-

And she would have if a bird hadn’t screamed.

God damn her good hearted nature, it was going to get her killed one of these days.

She ran over to the tree in time to see the bird lunging down towards a broken branch, trying to reach out to somethi-

Holy fuck.

Kristin’s eyes widened as she saw something- no, someone- falling, and falling fast. Someone green, though accented with yellow and a couple white petals, though most of what she could assume were longer ones had now been burnt back.

Holy shit, it was one of them.

Kristin ran faster and practically threw herself to the ground to catch them, the little person falling into her hands just in time. Holy shit, it was a little person. Here, in her hands, was a little man. She could barely breathe as she held him closer, taking in every detail she could. They seemed to be around her age, and they looked like a guy, but who knows how their gender roles worked in their role. God, who knew how anything worked! She had so much to ask! She could barely believe it, she’d finally done it! She got one!

She was snapped out of her thoughts as the bird screamed again, frantically flapping its wings and hopping towards her. She at first assumed it had just been hunting the little guy in her hands as a food source, but she then took notice of the green leaf-made saddle on its back. Ah, so the bird belonged to the green guy, it seemed like she’d been right in her hypothesis that the tiny people rode them to get around. It hobbled closer, and her thoughts were cut off as she gasped.

She hadn’t fully realized the damage to the bird; a few of the feathers were damaged on one side, especially on it’s wing, and it’s feet were swollen, probably from the heat. Along with that, it was shaking violently and trying valiantly to get back to its rider.

She cooed as she gently picked it up with one hand, the other still holding the small guy. It tried to fight, but in its exhaustion she guessed that it couldn’t do much. “It’s ok, little birdy, I won’t hurt you,” she cooed, closing her hand around the tiny and holding him against her chest under her coat to keep him dry. He hadn’t made a move, so she could only assume he’d fainted on impact, if he even could faint. To be honest, she wasn’t even sure if he was alive, but the fact that the crow was trying to hard to get back to him gave her hope. “We’re gonna go back to my house and fix you both up.” She slowly stood, and cringed when she realized her entire front was absolutely caked in mud, but she shrugged it off.

After all, an extra load of laundry and a shower were little to pay to see her life’s dedication paid off.

She couldn’t wait to show Wilbur.

~~~

“Phil? I’m home!” Tommy yelled. Walking into the entryway of the palace he lived in, completely drenched. He hadn’t meant to be out this long, he’s just gotten so caught up with his friends that he hasn’t realized time had passed. It was hard to tell when night fell when the entire sky was dark with a storm.

He’d only gone out to help Tubbo deliver some honey, but he and Ranboo had started talking and Tubbo had more deliveries to make so Tommy and Ranboo went to the tree base and invited Tubbo to join them when he was done. Tommy would have loved to stay at Dream’s place, but in case his dad ever found out where he’d been wandering off to he wanted the Bog king to have plausible deniability. He had started showing Ranboo all the stuff Tubbo had given him after trading with boggins, and it had turned into a fun game of “I’ll give a completely batshit description for this and then you’ll tell me what it’s actually for.” One thing looked like a torture device but was used for cutting rougher letter, and another was just a hairbrush, which Ranboo was surprised Tommy had never heard of since bugfolk used them, but hey, Tommy didn’t get out much.

Tubbo came over for a minute but left when the sky grew darker, since he couldn’t fly in the rain and had to get home before the storm. Tommy only went home once the lightning started, and Henry starting chirping, and Tommy could weirdly tell how concerned she was. Him and Ranboo also agreed that the top of a really high tree was not where they wanted to be in a potential lightning storm, so they’d parted ways for the day.

But Tommy hadn’t expected the palace to be empty, practically. Man, was the storm bad enough that the staff had gone home? He wandered his halls for a bit before he heard a voice behind him. “Tommy?” He spun frantically, only to sigh when he saw Technoblade. He dramatically caught his breath and walked over to him. “Whew, you scared the shit outta me, Blade, where’s dadza?” “He’s not with you…?” That made Tommy pause. “Nooo…should he be?” Tommy asked apprehensively, but Techno looked absolutely panicked. “He…he went out looking for you earlier. Like, this morning. You didn’t show up for your lesson with him and he said something about wasting his time and flew off with Brian. They haven’t been back.”

“…what?” His dad had gone out…looking for him? Wasn’t he more concerned about the storm? The forest? Why was Tommy the concern there? His dad rarely gave a flying fuck when he missed their lessons, why did he have to pick today of all days to throw a hissy fit and run after him? “Oh god, ok…how..how do we find him?” “I have no idea.” Techno answered, as blatantly honest as usual, but the stoic look having been replaced with fear. They both stood in silence for a moment before Techno put a hand on Tommy’s shoulder. “Ok, I’m going to go looking for him. You’re gonna stay here and see if you can bring him back.” What? “But how am I-“

Techno reached to the emerald around Tommy’s neck, held by a thin leather strap, the same as his father’s. Pretty much the only tying them to each anymore. “Phil explained earlier that your crystals are connected. He went out looking for you knowing that the necklace would signal him when you were close by. He also said that if need be, there’s some magic property that can call one crystal to the other, since they’re just pieces of each other. He didn’t earlier since it would have taken too much power and he didn’t know how bad the storm would get, but I think we’re to that point. I don’t know shit about magic, but according to him, you should be able to use the crystal to summon him here.”

Tommy stared wide eyes at him for a moment. “I- i don’t know how to do that…I can’t-” “It’s alright, you can do it, I know you can. If if you can’t, I’ll keep looking until I find him. It’ll all be ok.” Techno said, leaning Tommy into a hug. God, this must be serious, Techno was never this emotional. “O-ok, I’ll do my best.” Techno leaned back, smiling at Tommy before clapping him on the shoulders. “You’re a good kid, Tommy. I’ll be back.” He said, walking off. He hoped Techno would be ok. The storm had been getting progressively better little by little, but it was still pretty harsh.

Tommy went up to his room and sat on the floor. Ok, so he was basically trying to learn teleportation, no biggie, just…teleport someone. Yeah, he could do that. He bring Phil back and he’d yell at Tommy for missing another lesson and he’d yell back that it was how he felt when his dad missed his entire childhood and inevitably someone would bring up mom, god forbid, and it’d end with two slammed doors like it had at least three other times that week. Great, he was so looking forward to that.

…why was he doing this again?

Tommy groaned and hit the heel of his hand against his head. His dad may be a bigoted asshole to his two best friends and a shitty father on the best of days, but he didn’t deserve to die in a lightning storm. His heart clenched at the idea that he may be too late, that he’d never see his father again and it would have been his fault since he didn’t go to that stupid magic lecture earlier.

He tried to convince himself that it was only because he didn’t want the weight of his father’s death on his shoulders. That the sore feeling in his chest was annoyance and minor guilt. He didn’t miss his dad, he didn’t care about him at all anymore.

He didn’t.

Tommy breathed in and out deeply, closing his eyes and taking the emerald off his neck, clutching it tightly in his hands. He could feel the magic practically emanating from it, and did his best to find a similar power. His dad said when he needed to do more intense magic, he used the stone to feel out the life force in the forest that needed help. He’d taken Tommy to a cracked tree once and it had taken a while, but he’d managed to ground himself enough that he felt with the tree, and used his and the stones magic to redirect energy into it and heal it. He imagined the sensation would be something like that. If he could feel specific individual forces of nature, he could feel out a magic gemstone. He could do it.

As he started to concentrate more, and as he felt his own forces spread from himself to the walls of his room and his home and the whole forest around him, the stone started to glow.

~~~

Fucking. Finally.

The storm had…somewhat slowed down. Enough that Wilbur wasn’t getting even more soaked on his way home. Though, to be fair, he felt like he would never be dry again, he was soaked to the bone.

He walked down one side of the street under the branches. Since the storm had let up, the sun had come back with a vengeance and he was wearing very thick and warm clothes. He was already drenched, he didn’t want to add sweat to that.

To give himself credit where it was due, though, walking back, the road looked a whole lot cleaner than it had previously. It may not have justified hauling his giant-ass heavy trash bag all the way back to his house, but at least he was doing something.

After what felt like hours of walking back down the road he’d come up from (he knew it was only a few minutes but he’d been picking up trash in a thunderstorm all fucking day he was exhausted) he came upon the tree from earlier that had been struck by lightning. And shit did it look bad. He couldn’t help his curiosity as he stepped closer, observing the damage up close. The top looked like it had been on fire, all burnt and blackened, but even more confusing was the large section of land right in front of where he was standing where the grass had been shoved forward and it was nothing but a slick patch of mud. It looked like the dirt on a baseball field when a catches had to slide across the ground to get the ball.

As his attention was on the ground, though, something flashed in the dim light that shone through the trees. What in the world was that?

Maybe he’d missed a piece of trash, who knows how far into the woods people can chunk things from their car. He leaned down to get a better look at it, and saw that it was shiny and a dark, deep green. Ugh, another piece of a goddamn beer bottle that someone shattered against something. Though, this one didn’t look like the large smooth but sharp edged pieces he’d picked up like a hundred of. Something was odd, so he dropped his grabber and bag to examine it more closely.

None of it was smooth; it looked somehow natural. It was think and rough, but not sharp, not polished and thin and clear like he’d seen. Maybe it could be a rock? It also had a weird brown strap attached to it, each side of the rope having scorch marks on the end. Wilbur guessed that the fire had split the strap holding the stone on. Maybe it had been…a ring? Who uses a thin flimsy leather band as a ring? He also didn’t know who would have been in the forest to lose a ring, other than his mother. Maybe he should bring this home and ask her, and if it’s not hers, can’t hurt to see what the stone is and how much it could be worth. A little extra money never hurt.

As he looked at it more closely, he realized it was greener than he originally thought. It was brighter, almost. Had the sun started hitting it differently? He held it up to a patch of sunlight, and watched in awe as it looked like it almost started to glow. Woah, maybe he could get some serious cash for this thing after all. But as he brought it back down from the light…it was still glowing. Like, actually glowing. And it was getting brighter and brighter.

He confusedly wrapped his hands around it, peeking in to see if it was still somehow just a trick of the light or if it was glowing. He saw a trickle of green light breaking through the cracks in his intertwined fingers, but when he went to peer in closer, something happened. His hand jerked in the exact wrong direction, smacking him clean in the face and right against the left side of his glasses, shoving them hard enough that he heard a crack. Before he could be too confused about that, though, his hands were suddenly yanked forward, enough to trio him off his feet, but…

He was still upright. There wasn’t any weight on his legs, but he was upright. He looked back up to his hands and saw the glow getting brighter and brighter still, to the point it was almost shining through his hands.

His blood turned cold and pure fear flooded his body as he felt himself get lifter up higher. He frantically tried to let go of the stone, putting all his effort into ripping his hands away, but nothing. He felt tears drip down his face, he wasn’t sure when he started crying, but he paid it no mind. It swung him around again, almost slamming him into a tree. He tried to push away but he was like a ragdoll to this thing. It felt like he was in the tornado scene of the Wizard of Oz.

“Help!” He screamed, his muscles starting to get sore from the useless strain of trying to free himself. “Fuck, Help me!” Nothing moved. His hands stayed firmly stuck around the crystal. “Someone!” He started to feel nauseous, and he felt himself shaking from the fear. “Anyone?!” The world around him started to morph as the edges of his visions turned green. “Mom!!” And suddenly he was gone.

~~~

A green flash filled Tommy’s room as he shot up from where he’d been sitting. Holy fuck, he did it. He did it, he actually managed to do it!! He ran to the figure as the magic began to clear only to stop dead in his tracks, his face falling.

Something stood in front of him. Not his father, not even a leafman, but something.

He wore clothes that were somewhat reminiscent of Ranboo’s, but they were more…patterned. It was weird material, and it’s not like Tommy knew many people who actually wore clothes, but he’d never seen anything like it. The man was also a weird color, not green like him or any shade of grey like a boggin. He was tall, taller than Tommy, but still dwarfed under most boggins. Maybe he was a bugfolk? But he looked too squishy. He didn’t have the hard chitin that Tubbo had, his skin looked like it felt more Like Ranboo’s but without the spikes.

His thoughts halted as he noticed that the man hadn’t even seen him yet. He’d taken a second to look around, but he was just staring at the emerald in his hands-

The emerald.

That was his dad’s emerald.

Tommy went to take a step closer, the dead silence in the room broken for just a second by his footstep. The man’s head snapped up and he just as quickly fell over, mouth agape and breathing heavily. It was only then that Tommy realized he was also shaking like a leaf.

They both just stared at each other for a minute, neither making a move. Tommy’s confusion slowly warping to anger and the other creature’s morphing into fear and apprehension.

“Why the fuck do you have that?!”

“What the fuck are you?!”

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plant-gt-thought-box · 1 year

Text

Blueberry Bush Family

Hi hello welcome to my TED talk about a new au I made inspired by this post. I hope you all like it! *buries myself in dirt and disappears once again*

Also @brick-a-doodle-do take it

------

° Eret recently got into gardening and baking so she bought a small blueberry bush she can grow in her garden! Techno and Wilbur agree to help Eret plant it when one of them sees a tiny lil head poke out of the bush…

° The three brothers just look down at the tiny boy very confused on why there is a tiny person in the blueberry bush Eret got

° Then Wilbur calls dibs on the tiny boy and very carefully take some out of the blueberry bush to inspect him, Wilbur has decided this tiny gremlin that is biting his fingers and looks a little bit like a mouse is his lil brother and no one can stop him

° Techno and Eret start inspecting the blueberry bush to see if there's anything else strange about it and find a tiny log leading down into the dirt and a pair of blue eyes staring right back at them from the darkness

° Techno, being the brave soul he is, sticks his finger in and pulls out an angry looking birdman who is also small (but still much bigger than the tiny mouse boy)

° Eret decides after the discovery of yet another tiny person in the blueberry bush gets a small piece of string and ties one of the blueberries that's right to it, she lowers it into the small hole and when she feels something tugging on it quickly pulls another small person out…they look like a black and white bunny person and instantly start crying once they realize they have fallen for a trap

° Techno takes the tiny mouse and tiny bunny boy from his siblings and reunites them with the bird person, they start trying to question the bird man as it's very obvious they can talk (do to the tiny mouse boy swearing like a sailor)

° As the bird man slowly starts to talk Wilbur starts to get attacked with blueberries and Eret sees three more tiny people at the base of the blueberry bush

° Eret carefully picks up the tiny fox, duck, and bunny person so they stop attacking her brother with blueberries

° The three brothers then just sit there awkwardly as the big bird guy who seems to be the eldest of these tiny people starts yelling at them in chirps, well there doing this Eret and Techno just carry the tiny people inside (well Wilbur goes to change his clothes cuz they're staind with blueberries)

° Techno and Eret set the six tiny people down on a pillow on their kitchen table and then properly start asking questions

° they find out all of the tiny's names (Tommy, Philza, Ranboo, Fundy, Niki, and Quackity) and is that the reason they were emerging from the blueberry bush Eret got was that their home had been uprooted with the bush and because they were in a crowded area surrounded by humans they didn't get a chance to properly move before Eret bought there home

° Eret ask the Tiny Family if they possibly want to just stay in their backyard as she's going to use the berry bush to grow a nice small garden and she wouldn't mind them staying there, Philza originally was going to decline but all of his kids instantly start agreeing thinking it would be a great idea

° Techno is then left all alone with the tinys Tommy, Ranboo, Fundy, Niki, and Quackity

° Techno being extremely awkward and not actually wanting to socialize takes the tinys to the living room and puts on a marathon of studio Ghibli movies, he succeeds in distracting everyone so they don't have to talk (he does make them snacks)

° Meanwhile outside Eret, Wilbur, and Philza are very carefully bearing the blueberry bush from its pot into the soil of the garden well also making sure they don't accidentally destroy the tiny's home

° Philza also set some basic rules down for the humans telling them that they're not allowed to just take his kids without telling him and they're especially not allowed to take them aside the house

° Philza realizes these rules will be completely ignored by his children when he goes inside and sees them watching something called "movies" and sees how much his kids enjoy them

° Well everyone else is watching the movies Eret ask Philza to help her decide what she should grow in the garden since his family well also be using probably whatever she grows there for food

° Philza really hopes this humans are nice…

#mcyt g/t #mcyt gt #mcyt g/t community #mcyt gt community #tiny!tommy #tiny!quackity #tiny!phil #tiny!philza #giant!eret #giant!wilbur #giant!technoblade #giant!techno #tiny blueberry bush fam au

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brick-a-doodle-do · 1 year

Text

here take th- *passes out*

ok i speedwrote this, i had a line in mind and decided to write it cause i was sad :] tbh the first bit seems kinda angsty but tommy's just in a silly goofy mood and is being dramatic as always.

also ig it's for @corysmiles's little streamer au? maybe? let's roll with it

goodnight now 😴

off switch

wc: 1356

cw: swearing, mention of drowning, brief panic

—–—

Tommy screams as he slips over the edge of the sink and plummets in, soapy water splashing around him as he sinks to the bottom. He flails in the pool of water, releasing a scream that came out as warped noises and a flood of bubbles from his mouth. Water clouds his eyes, but he still finds his way back to the surface. He gasps dramatically when his head resurfaces and the cold air of the bathroom rushes around his face and flushing his cheeks the faintest shade of pink. “Wilbur!” Tommy calls out, slipping below the water again. In a panic, he inhales, water flooding his pipes. He lifts his face up against the foamy water and coughs out, the detergenty taste of soap and shaving cream spilling out of his throat. Tommy shudders. “Wilbur, you fucking bitch! I am not fucking swimming around in your soapy-ass water, get me the fuck out of this!” He yells, gaping at Wilbur’s terrible attempt at hiding his smile as he continues on, acting as if he doesn’t hear the tiny. “Wilbur!” he yells, flailing with dramatised movements. Wilbur’s lips quiver in amusement. Water splashes around him, and he’s made too big of a scene to stop his struggle. Besides, the walls of the sink, no matter how close he gets to them, tower above him and will never guarantee a safe way out. Wilbur, the bitch, is the only way out.

He groans loudly (Wilbur can hear his utter distress) and ceases his movements to make a terribly embarrassing attempt of splashing water up at the human. He flips backwards the second his arms break the surface and he slips back under the water, limbs twisting in a terrible cluster, like a puzzle that takes eons to put together. He yells out Wilbur’s name under the water, and upon inhaling, again, water swarms his gullet and before he knows it he’s coughing underwater, bubbles disperse around him until he can resurface. And when he does, his cheeks are flushed with a deeper shade of pink-purple. He chokes, holding his hands to his chest to support his burning lungs, while his legs continue to flail under the water to keep him upright.

“Wilbur! Bitch—dick—asshole! You are the worst person I have ever met, help me!”

“Why should I?” Wilbur asks with a hum, patting his freshly-shaved face with a blue towel. In the mirror Wilbur is gazing into, Tommy watches as a faint smile threatens to crack further. That bitch,

“Wh’dya mean why should I? Just help me! That’s not a fucking thing to question, I’m literally drowning and your stupid ass is out here like ‘why should I?’” Tommy yells, scoffing.

“You look fine to me,” Wilbur says. Now that he points it out, Tommy realises that his legs are rhythmically flowing in the slow water to keep him afloat, and for once in his life he’s calm.

“Oh fuck off with that, I may look fine but I’m dying right now. Drowning, startlingly quickly. Got that, Wil-bitch?”

“I see,” Wilbur says, distracted. The towel is set down dangerously close to the sink, and Tommy finds this to be a taunt. An extremely irritating one.

“Help me,” Tommy whines, trying his hardest to sound even the smallest bit demanding for a man whose personality is structured on drama.

Wilbur shuffles, one last time drawing his hands down the faint stubble he’d left be before he pried his attention away from the mirror, and relievingly down to Tommy. He fully anticipates being brought out of this hellhole of a sink and onto the counter, but instead, Wilbur just leans over the counter and watches him. And the fucking worst part of it is: Wilbur doesn’t try to conceal his smile any longer. It’s keeping laughter locked in, he knows from the way his dimples are pulled back and his lips dip down at the ends.

“You are a bitch. I fucking hate you, die in a hole you absolute shithead— I will bite you,” Tommy snips, arms folding against his chest.

“You are a very demanding child,” Wilbur replies. He sounds too content, he hates it. And, oh—

“I am not a fucking child, ey, I’m eighteen now! And I can be as demanding as I want when I am dying in a sink,” Tommy argues, putting his complaint into lilting syllables.

Wilbur sighs, leaning further over the sink. His eyes come dangerously close to him, and Tommy can feel his warm breath wash over him when the man’s smile widens. He bares his teeth and Tommy very well considers punching them. But instead, he promptly splashes water up at the human. Wilbur yells and retaliates, standing upright and rubbing at his eye. “Oh fuck,” he murmurs softly, the smugness wiped right away. “You realise that doesn’t make me want to get you out of the water any more, yeah? You’re unpleasant to be around.”

“Wha—nononono—Wilbur, it won’t happen again! I promise, please let me out of this shithole and I’ll leave you alone, it is fucking freezing in here,” he says. It was a complete lie, and if anything, the water was strangely relaxing. But it helped his case.

“Think about it, waterinnit. We could make you li’l floaties, floatinnit. Wha’dya think?”

“I think get me the fuck out of here.”

Wilbur rolls his eyes and murmurs under his breath sadly, and with the hand that isn’t constantly making sure his eye is in-tact, swipes his hand under the water and takes Tommy along with it. Water falls over the edge of Wilbur’s palm and Tommy relaxes his shoulders and bathes in the feeling of the sores in his legs declining.

“Happy, child?” Wilbur asks, lowering his hands with practised ease flat onto the counter. Tommy, also having done this a million times over, clambers off. His clothes are heavy with water and his hair sticks uncomfortably against his forehead, playing with the tip of his vision.

“Congrats on doing the bare-fucking-minimum,” he quips.

Wilbur laughs, reaching for something over the counter that Tommy doesn’t get a chance to see before his vision is cut off with a deep blue something. His head is abruptly caught between Wilbur’s forefinger and thumb as the human messes with the top of his head. His vision spins and his cheeks flush a deep pink when he realises Wilbur is trying to dry him off. He can feel the indent of Wilbur’s fingers against the towel gently dig into his hair. Part of him wants to struggle, but the other part melts at the feeling. It’s mesmerising, two fingers double the height of him rubbing against his hair in a paternal fashion. His heart twists weird, and before he can get ahold of his nice it felt, soft fluorescent lighting from the bulbs that lined the bathroom mirror flooded his vision. He squints at the sudden change, then stares up at Wilbur, who stares down at him with a fond smile—something knowing in it. Tommy can’t quite place it.

The phantom feeling of his fingers against his head still massages in his imagination. But, he still has a facade to hold up. “Wh- What the fuck was that? I don’t want fucking spa treatment from a bitch like you,” he complains.

“Awwwh, Tommeee, did you like that?” Wilbur coos, drawing out his name and crouching down to be eye-level with him. That something knowing in his eyes became almost obvious now. The same two fingers return to his head and something warm spreads in him. Wilbur massages his head, and he melts into it, eyes closed contently despite his urge to protest. Wilbur’s forefinger ruffles at his hair, smiling a smile wider than Tommy has ever seen.

“Piss off, you’re so annoying,” Tommy murmurs, tire lulling at him.

“Do you have a fucking off switch?” Wilbur asks abruptly, sounding startlingly curious.

“No, I don’t have an off switch!” he says, straightening up.

Testing his theory, WIlbur takes his head between his forefinger and thumb and rubs them in circles above his ears. Before Tommy can protest, he slumps against Wilbur’s hand.

—–—

#mw #brickfic #mcyt g/t #mcyt gt #dsmp g/t #dsmp gt #dream smp g/t #dream smp gt #g/t #gt #giant/tiny #t!tommy #g!wilbur #little streamer au #kinda #so tired #so determined to write this #so could've made it better #i am so tired oh my god goodnight </3

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