#i could try replacing wilbur with someone

[somebodyminecrafyidk]

[What Could Have Been]

After the unfortunate reveal of what kind of person Wilbursoot was, I was unsure whether or not to post this, but I've decided to. Here is my outline for the beginning of a fanfic I was writing...

Note: Everything under the cut was written before Wilbur was exposed for being an abuser, as well as some of the tags

A Modern-Vampire!AU involving SBI and a few other people.

Techno is an aspiring writer that recently moved into a very... low quality aparment. He's taken note of the number of bats that fly around the neighborhood and has developed a habit many people in his apartment complex have; feeding fruit to the bats that hang out around his place.

The place is pretty chill. Techno works at this nice Café. (Whether it's Niki's or not is up to you.) He's developed a small rivalry with this random kid who pesters him for food all the time. Techno usually shares his lunch with the kid. (Techno admits the kid is pretty cute with his squid themed. backpack and hoodie)

Anyway, Techno is doing well, he's adjusting to the neighborhood, his boss is pretty nice, and he even has the free time to write his second novel now.

Time passes and Techno has fully adjusted to the place, getting comfortable until... Tommy shows up! Tommy is a fledgling vampire who recently was given the freedom of going out. (As long as one of the other coven members are with him.)

One day while out, Tommy gets distracted and wanders off, loseing his caretaker of the night. This leads to Tommy getting lost and ariving at an old apartment complex. The place has bat boxes and Tommy prepares to spend the day in one to hide from the sun.

While trying to hide from the sun in his bat form, Tommy finds this weird guy with shitty pink hair who's been trying to lure him inside with grapes. (Techno sees a small pup without it's mother desperately hiding in his very old and falling apart bat box.)

Eventually Techno gets the pup inside, wrapping him up in a soft baby blanket and putting him in a shoe box with a warming pad.

Tommy is scared and confused by the actions of this random human... but he quite likes the warm box he's been put in... it's not his fault if he fell asleep!

Across the city is a frantic Wilbur trying to find his missing brother who disappeared after he looked away for a second! Okay, maybe he was staring at that pretty human running the nearby record store but Tommy had been right there beside him!

Wilbur and the rest of the coven desperately searches for Tommy before being forced to take refuge from the sun indoors.

I'm unsure of what happens next but Tommy eventually makes his way back and is promptly grounded and forced to stay indoors. The only problem is that... Tommy has imprinted on Techno during his time with him and begins sneaking out to hang out with Techno. (Techno is relieved that the little bat he helped was doing well!)

[tyttamarzh]

Missa and Tallulah

I adore the father-daughter bond that has formed between Missa and Tallulah, it reminds me so much of Missa's early days with Chayanne and it warms my heart.

But there is something very interesting in the way Tallulah accepted Missa as her father immediately, despite having lived very little with him and despite the fact that Missa never tried to impose himself on her as a father (even if he considered her his daughter since Phil told him that he adopted her).

And it is precisely that. Missa never imposed himself, he didn't try to push himself on as a father to Tallulah, unlike other people in the past who tried to "adopt" her or make her see them as a father. Missa always accepted his place in the girl's life and was fine with the "uncle" title she had given him.

He told her that he felt the responsibility of taking care of her, just as he takes care of Chayanne and he always behaved nice and friendly, but to a certain extent he kept his distance from the subject, he never wanted to pressure or make her feel uncomfortable attributing himself a role that did not belong to him.

Missa has always respected that Tallulah's father is Wilbur and although he knew that Phil had adopted her and that he directly referred to her as their daughter, Missa never intended to take that place (even in prison he referred to Wilbur as "her true father"), as much as he saw her as his daughter, he respected Tallulah's feelings and that was important for her, because she spent months anguished by Wilbur's absence, hearing jokes from others about it, like If her suffering was nothing more than a joke for everyone and although they were harmless jokes, every time that happened it seemed like it disturbed her, she was Wilbur's daughter and people didn't seem to take it seriously.

She had other people in her life, people she became very fond of, but despite that she has never seen them as a replacement for her father and she never liked that anyone wanted to see themselves as such. She has great appreciation for Quackity because she knows how important he is to Wil and out of all of them, it seemed that he was the closest to becoming her stepfather and therefore, her "second father" and in some way being close to him was a way to bond with Wilbur, but Q's presence in Tallulah's life was never stable and along the way there has been mistrust and bitter moments with him (that bond was not created, but she still sees him as someone important to Wil and is fond of him). Others have taken care of her and although she became fond of them, she always saw them as her "uncles" and although there were those who tried to be something more than her, she never felt comfortable with the idea.

It even took a long time before she directly started calling Phil dad and that was something that was born from her, Phil didn't come and tell her "now I'll take your father's place" he just earned his own place and that made the girl was the one who asked him to adopt her. But Phil already had a long history with her and a very solid relationship, so her asking him that was something to be expected but… Why did she immediately accept Missa?

The first things Tallulah heard from Missa were the wonders Chay and Phil told her about him and from the moment she met him, she realized that he was a sweet and kind man who made Chay very happy. In a way, she saw Chay's family as what she expected from a family, since they all had a very beautiful bond with each other. But still, she didn't see Missa as her father, nor as her "grandfather" (when she saw Philza like that), he was another of her uncles. But from that moment on, all the times Phil and Chay talked about him were different for her, because now she knew him and could understand how important he was to them, seeing a parallel between the longing they felt for him with the one she felt for Wilbur and that made her empathize with them, strengthening their bond.

So, the next time she saw Missa, she defended him from Foolish and Tubbo's taunts and followed him around the island, so he could reunite with Chay, because she knew that was important to her brother and that he would do the same for her. In some ways, the things that happened that day greatly influenced the way she felt about Wilbur's absence by then.

Even so, Missa was always sweet and kind to her and promised to take care of her like Chay, HIS OWN SON, without any kind of commitment, without expecting anything from her, or trying to be considered her father or take these place.

That must have been confusing for her in some way, because she didn't know how he saw her or if he considered her his family, but it kind of made her think about it: "Is he part of my family? Do I want that?" "Am I part of his family?"

Missa's absence and presence influenced the three of them in several ways, even if no one were not fully aware of it.

And this is where Phil's influence comes. For Phil there was no doubt that Missa had become another father to Tallulah from the moment he adopted her, but that could never be formalized because the three of them were never in the same room to talk about it and Tallulah never asked it directly.

Just as Missa didn't want to force Tallulah to see him as a father, she didn't want to force him to see her as his daughter. It was in the end Phil who directly made the decision to make it official, he had already talked about it with Missa before, but he didn't ask Tallulah, he just told her "he's your third father" and even at that moment, she asked him Missa was okay with it, because until then she only saw him as Chayanne's father and Missa's response was that he already considered her his daughter (which was similar to what Phil told her).

Missa was not someone who asked her to see him as a father just like that, he was someone who saw her as a daughter even if she did not consider him her father, he never fought for that title, he never expected anything in return, he was someone who unconditionally agreed to love her, even if he didn't know her, JUST LIKE A TRUE FATHER DOES.

That's why Tallulah accepted it immediately, she reciprocated that show of love in the same way.

I sincerely believe that she has been able to heal something within her heart and that being Phil and Missa's daughter makes her very happy, without displacing her love for Wilbur.

Tallulah's new side is quite important, I think that Missa's love does her quite well and was something that she needed for a long time, because now she feels part of a complete family and it is natural that she wants to protect that and now she have someone who makes her feel like she have the strength to take care of those she love.

It's incredible how both Missa and Tallulah needed each other to feel part of the family, because in some way, they were the ones who doubted their place within it.

I never expected this, but I love it.

Missa is a great father, he has always been a great father and I am willing to fight anyone who dares to say otherwise…

[tobysbliss]

probably sounding chronically online in the tags😭🙏

i think crying in my friends arms over a fucking content creator being a shit person was the wakeup call that it was fr an unhealthy obsession. or maybe just a huge hyperfixation or both but good fucking lord im ill

[the-joju-experience]

Scar inhaled, relaxing his shoulders for a second. He then steeled himself and began the trek to Doc’s base. When he got there, he found the mad scientist eating a bucket of popcorn.

“Hiya, Doc!” Scar said. “I’m glad you’re enduring the merchandise.”

“It’s a consolation prize,” Doc said. “Do you know how loud your park is?”

“It’s all part of the charm,” Scar said.

“You say charm, I say noise,” Doc said. “Is this about the polls?”

“Oh, yeah,” Scar said. “I just wanted to make sure there are no hard feelings and no creepers, none of that really. Especially about the bracket.”

“Do I scare you?” Doc asked playfully.

“No, no!” Scar said. “You just create a sense of foreboding.”

“Thank you,” Doc said. “I try very hard.”

“I guess it’s not easy being green, huh?” Scar asked.

Doc stared blankly.

“Gotcha!” Scar said. He shot off into the air, flying away before Doc could shoot him with an arrow.

—

Etho loitered by rock outside Mumbo’s vault, watching the slimes hop around aimlessly.

“How did all these get here?” Etho asked to no one in particular. “I thought the slime farm didn’t work.”

He walked towards the opened vault door and peered inside. As he descended, he heard the low growls of the zombies that had colonized the building. Etho groaned in annoyance, pulling out some torches to light up the staircase.

“This is what happens when you don’t upload regularly, Mumbo,” Etho said. He reached the bottom, where Slimecicle had left a trail of carnage. In the center of the room the challenger had left a mess of signs, many of which could not be safely read in a video (except maybe by Cleo).

“Now, what are we supposed to do?” Etho asked.

“It’s quite simple, really.”

—

Wilbur heard his door rattling again.

“Joe, I told you already! I don’t want a shulker full of blue dye!” The door kept rattling. “Fine,” Wilbur said. He opened the door reluctantly, but was thrown to the side when the door fell off its hinges and BDubs sprinted in. The mossy man scrambled around, hastily replacing the door.

“You’ve gotta help me!” BDubs shouted.

“What’s going on?” Wilbur asked.

“It’s Cleo! She’s crazy!” BDubs said.

“I’m sorry, you’re on the run from ZombieCleo?” Wilbur asked.

“Yeah! It’s the Sexyman bracket! She’s out to get me!” BDubs said.

“I’m pretty sure they know it’s a joke,” Wilbur said. “I mean, no one’s taking it that seriously.”

“You’ve never had to deal with Cleo when they have a reason to get you,” BDubs said. “I’m not safe anywhere, man.”

“So why would you come here? I don’t want to be involved in this!” Wilbur protested.

“I can’t go anywhere Cleo can find me! Please!” BDubs begged.

Wilbur heard another knock on the door.

“Oi, Wilbur Soot?” They both heard Cleo say. “I hear you’ve got a friend of mine. I’ve got to tell him something.”

—

Joe swept the sand out of his eyes as he approached the city. Checking his map again, he confirmed that he was headed towards the right place, and then he continued to the central plaza.

When he got there, Quackity was sharpening a sword.

“Howdy, Quackity!” Joe said. “It’s great to meet you. Your fans were pretty generous last round.”

“They’ve learned their lessons well. Everything’s a business deal,” Quackity said. “Even this.”

“Well, I don’t really agree with that,” Joe said. “I mean, it’s great if everyone involved can financially benefit from something, but sometimes you just have to do it for the art of the thing, and I think that’s a personal choice you should be able to make.”

“That is where you’re wrong, Joe Hills,” Quackity said. “You will taste my blade like so many of my enemies have before.”

“I usually bake my enemies cookies and then they stop being my enemies, but I guess that works too,” Joe said.

“The last time someone gave me a cookie it was after they asked me to kill a man,” Quackity said.

“Do you want to change that? I happen to have some on me,” Joe said.

The next thing Quackity knew, he and Joe were enjoying some of Scar’s Elven Cookies.

“…and the next thing I knew, there was a giant moon crashing into my house!” Joe finished.

Quackity laughed.

[brainman1987]

ALRIGHT. IM OUTING MYSELF

I used to be super into dsmp, WHICH IS IMPORTANT FOR CONTEXT

Anyways Dpxdc au and Danny is slimecicle, Jason Todd as Quackity, and everyone else being filled into the other roles. Idk just, Danny being Todd's ghost in the walls and them becoming weirdly codependent on each other to the point it's probably unhealthy and then whoever replace Purpled fucking kills Danny to try and take down the Red Hood empire and Todd going insane trying to bring him back y'know?

Anyways Inspired by the throwaway line in a dcxdp among us au "he's apparently more goop than boy"

(maybe TimKon Tim being ranboo and Kon being Tubbo so that we can have "totally humans" duo frfr, maybe Dick being Wilbur, Damian is Tommy, Jschlatt is... someone... Bruce being Technoblade (this one I'm set on) and maybe superman being Philza? Could be interesting. Ummm Sapnap, Karl and Quackity is Kor'i (?) Oli (??) And Jason yeah? Is that the ship? Uhhh whoever is your fav toxic ship should be Badboyhalo and Skeppy, idk who capt. Puffy should be neither rose or dream or anything but then again this was totally just a throw away joke)

[evil-mcytblrconfessions]

(Long post ahead, sorry Cedar I had a really long dream haha)

I had a dream where the former members came back just to mess around on the DSMP world a bit before giving it a send-off as like a closure thing. They discussed how they wanted each character's story to end, about Technoblade, recreated certain moments with each other, and sometimes even slipped back into character for the bit. But the thing was Wilbur was there except he wasn't Wilbur. He was a new streamer Phil (from now on referred to PM to avoid confusion) picked out and advertised to replace Wilbur on the stream. The guy's name was also Phil. Phil looked exactly like Wilbur, but he had a mole on his right cheek and he had a tiny scar below it. He also had a different voice but it was kind of a blend between Wilbur's and PM's, leaning towards the latter. Anyway Phil fit perfectly into the atmosphere and even if he wasn't exactly like Wilbur, people loved him. But after the stream, Phil never streamed again and nobody (not even PM) ever answered anything related to Phil. This made people freak the fuck out and start theorizing. Ofc everyone latched onto the "Phil is Wilbur so we need to cancel everyone for bringing him back" idea but therr were wilder ones too like "Phil is Wilbur's brother"/"Phil is Wilbur's nice clone"

It got so out of hand that PM dedicated a whole part of his next stream to Phil and what happened to him. We learned that Phil is just PM's friend from college; Phil had a job outside of streaming and only did that stream as a favour for PM; Phil was flattered by the love he was shown from fans but not only was streaming something too time-consuming for him, he also knew he would forever live in someone bad's shadow so he had twice the reason to not do it; Phil is doing fine, has no relation to Wilbur, and honestly had no clue what a Dream ess em pee was outside of cultural osmosis and what PM showed him the week before the DSMP reunion stream; Also Phil didn't want anyone trying to out his socials because he didn't want a spotlight. Anyway this all ended with everyone making jokes that Wilbur was Phil's evil clone

Tommy was also asked about Phil a few days after the PM stream and he said "Phil seems like a good older brother, a better one at the least" which made everyone freak out but I woke up too early before I could figure out how THAT resolved

Anyway yeah. Long ass dream woohoo

.

[bonesandthebees]

Guess who had a free afternoon and got some reading done, it’s-a me, the spruce tree!

Anyway, I read the trail fic and I love it, but also I have questions.

See all the chapters are interesting and I’m sure we will get a Ranboo testimony and the neighbour and that will bring some really ugly shit to light, but right now I want to focus on Niki’s chapter.

Sweet poor Niki and her blame game. Because the interesting thing is, we know Quackity knew Wilbur from the first chapter. And we know he knows Tommy because he calls him by the nickname and drops everything to be his lawyer.

I’m just not sure Niki knows. Not sure Niki and Quackity knew each other. They don’t interact that way. Tbf, in real life I’m not sure Quackity would be allowed to be Tommy’s lawyer based on personal connection. But Niki talks about Quackity’s final months and never mentions that he was trying to reach him too.

It’s mainly interesting because I’m wondering how close Wilbur, Q and Tommy were. Was he there in the final months? Did he try to reach him too? Run into the same road block? They are talking about the same friend they lost. I’m sure they’ve had the same emotions. Niki is mostly upset for Tommy not letting her in when she was at the door (though really she is upset at herself for leaving/not insisting entering anyway). She’s upset at herself for not doing more and projecting that onto Tommy because he’s the person who stopped her. Quackity might know more, or he might know less. He might have more emotional distance or just be slightly more mentally stable.

Anyway, these are just my ramblings. I don’t think I’ll have reading time tomorrow or Friday (more like metal energy) so I’ll catch up on Saturday. But I’ve really been loving these. It’s a fun, light read (I say about a fic discussing murder and suicide.)

Bye, Bee! Hope you have a nice day!

-🌲

SPRUCEEEEE!!!

ok some clarification about quackity and wilbur's relationship in this. there was actually a line in the original draft that quackity and wilbur specifically knew each other in college, but I didn't know if that broke the timeline I later set up and if wilbur even went to college in this au so I just took the line out because I didn't want to think about it too hard. but yeah I should've clarified I wrote this with the idea that quackity and wilbur used to be friends but contact gradually faded out as they both got busy with other things. so quackity wasn't really in contact with wilbur at all during his final year and had no idea there was anything wrong. he was still invited to the funeral because he was an old friend, but he was closer with wilbur and tommy both when tommy was like. 13ish. so a while ago. sorry I should've probably thrown in a replacement line to clarify that

also while niki knows that quackity was an old friend of wilbur's, she never met him and doesn't know how close they were or anything like that. plus testifying on the stand is not really the time to act familiar with the guy questioning you so that's also why the two of them didn't act like they knew each other at all. they mainly just knew of each other but didn't have a direct connection. so they have that thread of tension running between them as well of not really being strangers but only knowing each other through their dead mutual friend, and now actually coming face to face at said dead friend's little brother's murder trial

(also to my understanding yeah your lawyer for your defense can be a friend. like, I think that's not all that uncommon for people's lawyers to be someone they already know/someone they've had a long time connection with, whether that be through a professional or personal capacity. I think there would only possibly be issues if quackity had some connection with dream but he didn't. I could be wrong but yeah)

but yeah I hope that helps clear things up!! hope things are going well for you <33

[shadowfloofster]

Aghhhh something that's been bothering me for ages and has kinda risen up again is Baghera being Dapper's mum.

I just- I don't like it! Love Baghera she's so cool and she cares for everyone so much and is amazing at building but this is one thing that really bothers me. But she isn't Dapper's other parent.

Why? Because Bad never agreed. He just stopped arguing the point but has never called Dapper their child, only his and calls her "aunt Baghera" to him.

There's a big difference between Dapper being adopted by Baghera and Pomme being adopted by Bad, even though it's the exact same people. And that's agreement.

When Bad came up to Baghera and said he was adopting Pomme, she immediately agreed! Bad said to Baghera what he was doing and she agreed immediately! I don't think he ever called Pomme his daughter until Pomme called him dad! (I point that out as Bad asked to adopt Pomme, so if she didn't want to see him as one of her dads she could refuse without him calling her his daughter immediately)

While Bad was away for 5 days, Dapper asked Baghera to adopt him. The first 5 days Bad takes off after 3 months I'm pretty sure, and Dapper decides he wants to be adopted by someone else then neither take no for an answer when he returnd.

You know what that could imply? Bad isn't good enough. To the character, that could be a MASSIVE slap in the face as a single parent for months and the first time he has a small break he finds out he's been replaced in a way! Then when he argues the point he's dismissed because they're happy so he should just let it be!

The conversation Bad had with Tallulah about wanting to adopt her temporarily till Wilbur was back is a big sign of how Bad might have taken it! He mentions he didn't want her to feel like he was trying to replace Wilbur in anyway and he understood when she said no!

Bad sees family as a BIG thing, others wanted to adopt Tallulah but he told them not to without properly thinking about how it'd make her feel! He waited for a time bringing it up would be right and made sure she knew she could say no and understood he wasn't trying to replace her papi!

It's just always bothered me how quick everyone was to treat Baghera as Dapper's other parent when Bad has never agreed, just stopped arguing the point because he's constantly shot down and basically told to just deal with it.

A mother figure and being his other parent are 2 different things. Ramòn and Tallulah have called Bad a father figure in different ways but he isn't their other parent! There would be 0 issues if Baghera was a mother figure or had talked to Bad before saying she's his mum!

Idk, nothing against any characters or CCs it just- bothers me especially as she keeps calling Dapper her son when Bad still never agreed (and on twitter, it's hard to stay off there when people aren't posting things enough about my fixation here, Dapper was trending and it took 21 posts to find one about Dapper and Bad that wasn't a clip)

[enby-chaos]

"The Unforseen Consequences of Resurrection"

Characters: Wilbur, Phil Word Count: 1,648

Written for @blazingstarininkyblackness for @mcytblrholidayexchange

No one warned him that revival would be painful. Though, that would have depended on someone who had been revived before to warn him. 

He hadn’t seen anyone else since it happened. Their fearful and shocked faces continued to stare at him in his mind from the manic glee he had felt. He will admit, he did get a bit carried away, but he hadn’t felt the sun in years. 

But now that glee had melted away, and had been replaced with pain. 

Wilbur wasn’t entirely sure where he was going yet, walking down the Prime Path with an aimlessness he had never felt before. It was still early enough in the morning that the roads were empty. It was just him, and the bright warm world before him. If his knees didn’t ache, he would have jumped for joy, run around and foll in the grass, breathe in the fresh air again after so long in that godsdamned train station. 

He saw the ruins of the Community House ahead, and the lake the surrounded it. That’s when he noticed the dryness of his throat. He ran for the water, kneeling at the shore to scoop a handful in his mouth. In the back of his mind, Wilbur remembered something about still water and rivers being dangerous to drink, but he didn’t particularly care at that moment. He needed water. 

He hadn’t felt relief in a long time, but quenching his thirst was the first step of many. He felt his stomach growl, empty since the moment he died, he was starved as well as parched. 

Wilbur tried stretching his wings as he stood, wincing at the stiffness. Something popped behind him, a small crack, then his left wing stretched a lot more easily. He tried doing the same to the right, rolling the joint this way and that to try and loosen it up, but to no avail. He gave up after that. 

His stomach, and his bones, continued to ache as he kept walking along the path, searching for someplace to find food. He’ll probably end up stealing from someone’s kitchen, he thought as he walked towards the castle.  

The effects death has on the human, and hybrid, bodies are well researched. The muscles of the body will relax, the skin will pale, and body temperature will cool down to room temperature. All organs and liquids within the body will sink with gravity to the lowest point possible. Rigor mortis, stiffness in the muscles, will set in mere hours after death and slowly reverse over two days.  Less researched are the effects of revival. With revival being a new and unknown concept, most do not know the inner workings. Most people, understandably, assume that the revived individual would feel perfectly fine, since the act of resurrection is a magical one. They couldn’t be more wrong. Revival cannot simply reverse the effects after death, it does not reverse time.  It is a wonder that Wilbur could walk at all, given how nine months of being laid to rest would have left his muscles atrophied beyond function. His complexion remains pale for the next few weeks, his circulatory system working to catch up while he recovers. He has almost zero body mass, most of his weight being what is left of his bones and muscles, with little to no fat. This is a man who should not be alive.  Dr. Ponk, MD, Essempi Institute of Medicine 

Phil found Wilbur standing outside the door to his cabin early after sunrise, his son shivering despite the layers he was clearly wearing. Wilbur looked a mess, hair clearly not brushed properly (though he can see an attempt was made), wings in disarray, and the aforementioned shivering despite the multiple coats he wore, a blue military jacket worn over a brown overcoat. He stood there in shock, never expecting to see his son standing before him again. 

He gave a crooked grin, not looking Phil in the eye, “I don’t have anywhere else to stay, do you have a couch?” 

Phil continued to stare, shocked, just managing to get out a “Yeah mate.” 

Wilbur was quick to move past him, talking as he dropped down onto the small couch, “Good, cause it’s fucking freezing out here- OW!, Phil, why does your couch sink so low?” 

“Because its old,” Phil said before he could think, closing the door and standing next to the couch, “How long have you been back?” 

“A couple of weeks,” He said nonchalantly, “I’ve been staying in that massive crater L’Manberg used to be, but I ran out of food and I needed a shower super badly-” 

Phil stopped paying attention to Wilbur’s rambling. No one had told him that Wilbur had been back for a couple of weeks already. Presumably, Wilbur hadn’t told anyone. Which, frustratingly was very in-character for Wilbur to not tell anyone about it. 

Meanwhile, Wilbur kept talking, “-also I’m pretty sure the explosion I caused was nowhere near that big, there’s no way eleven stacks of TNT could do that much damage I mean-” 

“It wasn’t.”  

Wilbur stopped mid-sentence, “... What?” 

“It wasn’t you,” Phil said, “It was Dream.” 

There was silence for a moment. Then Wilbur laughed. 

“Of fucking course it was Dream! He would never have been able to let it go! Oh there’s no way he would have been satisfied with just me doing it!” 

“Wil-” 

“Sure, I blew it up, but I didn’t want it gone-gone, yknow? Like I had a lot of thinking to do, and yeah sure being alone with my thoughts for years wasn’t healthy, but I gave it to Tommy, yknow? And then Tommy gave it to Tubbo but Tubbo was a good kid- 

“Wilbur!” 

Wilbur stopped. He had started fidgeting with the ends of his sleeves while he rambled, a nervous quirk from his childhood that never went away. He almost seemed to shrink in on himself, pulling his wings closer like a chick trying to hide. Phil almost missed the wince Wilbur made as he moved his wings. 

“Are you okay?” Phil asked. 

He made a face, “Am I, Phil? Was I ever okay?” 

Phil chose not to answer, climbing on to the couch next to Wilbur. His son seemed to shrink more as he got closer. 

“When’s the last time you preened your wings, mate?” 

Oh, um,” Wilbur looked embarrassed, “Before I died. I think.” 

“Well, they look like shit,” Phil said, “Sit down.” 

Wilbur hesitated, eyes darting between the space in front of Phil and the door. Phil knew he wouldn’t make a run for it, the snow was too heavy and the wind too strong, if he was shivering before there’s no telling how he would fare out there. Eventually, Wilbur slid down off the couch and shuffled in front of Phil. 

“Just, be careful.” He quietly asked. 

Phil sighed, “Of course I will.” He gently grabbed one of Wilbur’s wings, pulling it out from where it was tucked against him. 

Wilbur made a hiss of pain as the wing was stretched out, which made Phil instantly stop what he was doing. He certainly wasn’t pulling Wilbur’s wing with force, and a few years was nowhere near enough time for him to lose his skill. 

“What’s wrong?” 

“Nothing,” Wilbur said, “I probably haven’t stretched it enough. Joints are a little rusty, yknow?” 

Phil was unconvinced, “Stand up for a moment.” 

“What? No, I'm perfectly fine, just keep going.” 

He rolled his eyes at his antics, standing up himself, “Just stand up.” 

“Okay” 

Wilbur stood up. His movement was stiff and tense, like he had been sitting in a contorted position for hours rather than on a couch for five minutes. He had one hand on the couch for support, and the other on his lower back. If he hadn’t looked no older than 25, Phil might’ve mistaken him for an old man. 

“There, happy now?” He looked grumpy, like it had been an inconvenience for him to stand up rather than stay sitting down on the floor.  

“Yes.” Phil said, “You’re acting off, and there’s something you’re not telling me, like before I found you in that room.” 

Wilbur, at the very least, had the decency to look guilty, “Did you really have to bring that up? Surely there are better ways to guilt me into telling you what you want to hear.” 

Phil stared at him, giving a half-hearted attempt at the disappointed-father-look. Judging by how Wilbur sighed, it somehow worked. 

“Fine, I’ve been in pain ever since I got back, is that what you wanted to hear?” 

“It's a start. Now sit back down so I can preen you.” 

“Oh, come on, I just stood up, I’m not sitting down again!” 

Arthritis, a common name for a variety of similar diseases, affects the joints of the body. Symptoms include pain, as well as reduced movement and stiffness, in joints.  It most notably appears with age, as patients get older the stress of day-to-day life on their joints takes its toll. Hybrids also appear to be more affected than standard humans, most likely due to the increased number of joints in most hybrids. Avian hybrids especially so.  Dr. Ponk, MD, Essempi Institute of Medicine 

Recovery is slow, and no one knew that more than Wilbur. 

Months later, he’s doing better, but he still gets pains. He has his bad days, sometimes his wings lock up and he cannot stretch them without pain. Sometimes he lies in his bed and doesn’t want to get out. 

But he has his good days too. 

Some days he can fly around without a care in the world. He'll regret it in the morning, but he enjoys the wind in his face and the sun on his skin after so many years in the dark. 

Maybe he can finally hope again. 

[preyduo-moved]

listen. c!eret gave Wilbur that sign that said you’re safe when Wilbur had just joined the server. He only had a van, a brother, and sapnap constantly trying to take those things away from him.

Eret knew nothing about Wilbur. None of his morals, goals, habits. But she sided with him. Why? That’s a crazy thing to do. It’s insane. To agree to build a country with someone and be by their side when you’ve never met them. Did she just know? Know they would have a future together in the home they would build? How did she know they would all become friends. Become family, even..oufgj

And it was going so well. Eret built the walls of their home and built love for her new people.

Then war was declared by dream.

And he hated it.

Nothing felt good anymore

Love replaced with fear, it became tense. There were borders built tall between the joyous conversations they used to have. She missed peace, and started to hate the fighting.

Then dream came to her with a deal. That if eret betrayed everyone she would become king of the smp. And she thought about it. If they all died, and if Wilbur was smart, they would be discouraged and resign. And she got the bonus of power. She could make up with everyone later.

So he took the offer.

And she lived to regret it forever.

She looked into the eyes of her family as they realised what had happened. She led them into a dark, underground room. And out from the walls came the other side, murdering them one by one. All she could utter was “it was never meant to be,” and all Wilbur said was a quiet, hurt, “eret.. how could you?”

Now listen. Things did not go as eret planned. They weren’t discouraged they only became more spiteful in the war. And she realised the crown she held high on her head didn’t mean anything. Dream gave him no control over the smp and she felt so stupid and guilty of course dream was to power hungry to make the title “king of the smp” mean anything for her.

Do you think she held the cold gold of that crown and felt a pit in her stomach as she missed the warm embrace of her friends.

She spent her entire life doing amazing things to make up for her biggest regret. Genuinely she became a saint in my eyes so like.

She started idolizing Wilbur as an amazing person and all this stuff, but finally grew out of that. She realized she only did that because she regret hurting him. They were both hurt people who did bad things.

Also some things worth mentioning is that erets betrayal is what led c!wilbur into his paranoia spiral in pogtopia. He also made the button room, where he died, to look like where he lost his first life and even quoted eret. He never forgot that experience. And also c!wilbur was SO jealous of eret for a long time. It was kinda funny. Eret also built a museum so the legacy and events and history of their lives would be remembered forever. Also c!wilbur was forever scared of eret

I’m so sorry this was way long and unorganized buttonduo makes me go crazy.

AND THEY ARE NOT TRAITORDUO. THEY ARE NOT TRAITORS THEY JUST LIKE PRESSING BUTTONS.

i dont know them like u do but i love them. they r now very dear to me. thank u for enlightening me. i am a changed zombie.

[flamboyantly-incompetent]

HPB, Chapter 3 - Slughorn's Party

Draco Malfoy x Hufflepuff!Reader

Warnings: none?

Masterlist

Word Count: ~6,300

Note: hehehe

Halfway through an unseasonably wet October, Donna and Yvette prepared to brave the road to Hogsmeade for sweets from Honeydukes.

Donna wrapped her head in a woolen scarf and turned to you. “You’re sure you don’t want to come?”

You sat cross legged on your bed, Wilbur curled up beside you. Though the enchanted windows in the Hufflepuff dormitory projected warm sunlight and a soft breeze, you had gotten a good look at the real weather over breakfast. “It looked thoroughly miserable out there. Are you sure you want to go?”

Donna grinned, “I am in dire need of candy if this Halloween is going to be a festive one.”

“And I need new quills,” Yvette added. “Someone replaced all of mine with sugar quills. Speaking of, here.” She reached inside her bedside table, and handed a wrapped package to Donna. “I suspect it was Peeves.”

“Try not to be too bored without us,” Donna jested. “See you at dinner?”

You nodded and shooed them out the door. “Have fun, don’t freeze your noses off.”

“Okay, mom,” Yvette teased as they left the common room.

Herbert had already left with Justin, leaving few Hufflepuffs left in the common room. A few first years played Wizard’s chess by the fire, Wanda Clemm had a blanket thrown over her legs which she was still in the process of knitting, and Zacharias Smith was muttering to himself over a roll of parchment.

While you wanted nothing more than to go back to bed and enjoy a Saturday in a mostly empty dorm, the library and several unfinished assignments called to you. So, you sighed, and packed your schoolbag for a busy morning of study.

The basement and the dungeons of Hogwarts always took on a damp, musty smell whenever it rained that made you think of the fieldstone wall around your mother’s garden at home. You hoped the rain wouldn’t impact her crop of venemous tentacula.

You passed no one else until the main hall, where small groups of younger students had gathered to play gobstones out of the rain. The library was likewise unoccupied, so you were able to claim your favorite armchair, by the window with a view of the Quidditch pitch.

Professor Snape had you studying jinxes and counter-jinxes in preparation for the O.W.L. He’d said that while you’d be tested on the defensive spells, there was no better defense than a good offense. You’d never admit it to Herbert, who held a grudge against Professor Snape since second year over a Strengthening Solution, but he was certainly not the worst teacher you’d had. Next month, you’d even start dueling exercises.

It made you miss the DA meetings from the year prior, but it was better than nothing.

He’d assigned no less than two feet of parchment on the differences between a counter-jinx and an anti-jinx due for Monday, so you set down your bag and went on the hunt for reputable sources.

Wind rattled the windows in their frames while you browsed the many shelves of the library, and you smiled to yourself, thinking of Donna with her scarf pulled up over her nose and wrapped around her forehead down to her eyebrows, braving the storm for Honeydukes.

Madam Pince tutted to herself at her desk, watching you down her nose.

You turned down the next aisle, containing the biographies of several famous and long dead witches and wizards, quickly to avoid her continued gaze. Out of sight, you huffed silently. You had never once abused a book.

Circling back around, you passed the Restricted Section and gazed at it longingly. The rope that separated whatever tomes had been deemed inappropriate for school aged wizards and the rest of the library would be easy to simply step over, but if Madam Pince caught even a whiff of rule breaking, she’d be marching you to Professor Dumbledore’s office before you could read a single forward.

Then, as you passed the next aisle of the restricted section, you stopped short, staring at the back of a head of silvery hair.

Draco Malfoy perused the shelves of the restricted section, arms crossed in front of him, but he hadn’t seemed to notice you. Hoping to keep it that way, you backed up slowly, holding your breath, until you barely disappeared behind the row of shelves.

What could he be looking for? Surely nothing for school. Had Professor Snape given written permission for this access? Or had he used his prefect badge as a get out of detention free card once again?

You held your breath, listening, as he sighed to himself scanning the shelves. Whatever he was looking for, he must not have found it yet.

Then, he was moving away from you, further down the row of shelves. You tried to match him step for step, and hoped no one else was planning on a Saturday study session that would catch you in this act of espionage.

The footsteps stopped, and you risked a peek around, just to see what he was looking at now.

He had stopped halfway down the row, back to you once again, thankfully. The both of you lingered there for a moment, neither of you moving, until Draco heaved another sigh. He shoved his hands into his pockets, and you took that as your cue to duck back out of sight.

You backed up quickly, almost jogging, and tucked into a row you were allowed to be in just in time. He opened the section of rope to exit the restricted section, and closed it behind him. He must have had permission, then.

You watched him through gaps in books, feeling now a little silly, as he left the library. You could’ve just asked him what he was doing. He might even have told you. But where was the fun in that?

Hurriedly, you packed your things and followed him out of the library.

He strolled at a leisurely pace down the corridor, and you let him fall out of sight before catching up. The staircase he’d started up had begun to move. You’d need to hurry if you wanted to get to him before it moved again.

The castle always felt so empty on Hogsmeade days, even the paintings were snoozing as you passed by them.

Draco wove down a corridor of classrooms, never once looking behind him or down adjacent hallways he didn’t intend to stroll down, until he came to a dead end, then went up another set of stairs.

Following him was beginning to wear you out, and this meandering suggested he might not even be headed really anywhere. You considered just going back to the library. But then you turned a corner and

He was gone.

You turned around, checking for a door you’d maybe missed.

“Shouldn’t you be studying?”

You jumped, yelping, at the voice. Draco Malfoy leaned against the door jamb in front of you, smug.

He continued, “If you’re going to make a habit of this you should really invest in better footwear.” You frowned and looked down at your trainers. “I heard you squeaking all over the library before you even knew I was there.”

“What were you doing in the restricted section?” you asked.

He shrugged. “Just browsing.”

“In the restricted section.”

“Yes. Is that a problem?”

“Well, no, but-“

“Then, I don’t see how it’s any of your business. But, since you’re here. Have you made any progress?”

“I haven’t had much time for the hedgehog.”

“No, I meant the… other thing.”

It took you a moment to put together what he meant. He hadn’t brought it up since that night, and you certainly weren’t expecting to talk about it now.

“Oh, um. Not really. I’ve done a little reading, but, no.”

He leaned in conspiratorially, “If you run out of ideas, there’s always the restricted section.” You narrowed your eyebrows and opened your mouth to scold him. “Just a suggestion. See you Monday.” Before you could get another word in, he’d brushed passed you, down the stairs he’d come up.

You stood there a moment, watching the wind batter the stained glass windows at the end of the hall. Draco hadn’t even been angry about you following him, and this was the second time he’d caught you. Maybe better, sneakier shoes would be good, in case you ever wanted to try again.

“Ha,” you muttered to yourself mirthlessly. Next time you’d just ask him what he was doing, leave the sneaking to him since he was apparently so good at it.

You huffed again, and stalked back to the library to finally get to your schoolwork.

The first Saturday of November, Zacharias had insisted that everyone get down to the Quidditch pitch early to secure good spots for the game. You hadn’t even planned on going - the first game of the season was always a pissing contest between Gryffindor and Slytherin and you weren’t keen on hearing yet another refrain of Weasley Is Our King.

But, as Zacharias had declared the night before, he was commentating the match so he couldn’t very well keep an eye out for any advantages Hufflepuff could get against either team. So, you clomped down to the pitch with Yvette and the rest of the team, schoolbag filled with treats from Honeydukes and a few books on magically activated traps slung across your chest.

“Who d’you think we should focus on?” you asked.

Yvette considered a moment. Her Patronus may be a horse, but her eyes were thoroughly hawkish when observing the Quidditch pitch. “Gryffindor.”

You nodded. Since Katie Bell, one of their chasers, had been moved to St. Mungo’s for curse treatment, Harry Potter had been slow to announce who’d take up her spot. Until last night, when Devon Summerby announced he’d overheard Dean Thomas and Seamus Finnigan arguing about it over supper. They were the team to watch.

You’d get to see Draco play today. Quidditch was never something you were dedicated to, or even really made time to watch. The last time you’d watched Slytherin play was in your second year, since the season had been canceled for the Tri-Wizard Tournament in your third, and you hadn’t even been paying attention then.

Yvette gave you a sidelong glance, reading your mind. “Slytherin always plays dirty,” she said. “This ought to be an interesting match.”

The two of you settled in by the eastern goal posts with the sun at your backs, so you’d be able to see most of the pitch but keep an eye on the Slytherin keeper - to see how Gryffindor planned to sink the quaffle. Yvette teased you when you pulled out a book.

The lessons with Draco had been going… on, and while you were suddenly spending more time with him than you’d ever expected, he refused to speak any more about what he’d told you that night in the owlery. Any time you mentioned it, his face went stony and you could get nothing out of him. Worse, was knowing he was definitely up to something. It was infuriating. But your Transfiguration work had gotten better. You could now transfigure a hedgehog into a pincushion, though it did still make little snuffling noises when presented with treats. Progress was progress.

So, you pursued what Herbert had suggested - a good old fashioned trap. So far, the only sources you could find that were even relevant to your goal had been about travel safety, keeping gnomes out of the garden, and childproofing potions equipment. Skimming over this one, it appeared to be even less helpful - an account of a shop keeper rigging their safe as a portkey that would teleport away from thieves- but you started at the first chapter anyway, hoping for a clue or new idea.

The stands began to fill up, and the match began.

Harry’s strategy as seeker had always been to hover high above the rest of the players to survey, and keep watch for the Snitch. It was a good way to see every flash of movement below you, but the moment he moved with any speed, the crowd, and the other team’s seeker, knew the game was almost over. Draco, however, zoomed circles around the pitch, quicksilver, zigging and zagging sharply. It was impossible to tell whether he was on the hunt or in pursuit. Sneaky. Very sneaky.

You jotted down your thoughts and tried to tune out Zacharias’s commentary. He wasn’t going to earn himself any friends today, that much was certain.

Slytherin had possession of the quaffle, the captain Urquhart bolting down the pitch with it tucked under an arm, flanked by both beaters. The one on the right swung his bat into the bludger with a crack just as the quaffle went flying.

Ginny’s brother, Gryffindor’s keeper, wobbled on his broom but made the save.

Draco circled around towards his team’s keeper. He certainly looked at home on a broom. He almost looked… he almost was-

He looked at you looking at him, and smirked, then was gone a second later.

You balled up your fists at your sides. Git.

The match was a close one, in the end Draco and Harry had rushed the snitch side by side, shoving at each other the whole way, until Draco pulled up sharply and Harry caught the snitch, bowling over into the sand under the Gryffindor side goals. By that point, you had several pages of notes on habits, play styles and formations.

When your Monday night Transfiguration tutoring session rolled around, you expected Draco to still be cranky from the loss. But, when you got to the Room of Requirement, it was still the same, welcoming sitting room, albeit slightly bigger this time, and Draco was once again sitting by the fire, reading. He was the picture of composure, tie tucked into his characteristic green argyle sweater, prefect pin affixed proudly by the collar.

He did not look up when he heard you enter, but waved you in and said, “Sit, the kettle’s on.”

“Something special planned, then?” you asked, gesturing to the extra space the Room had allotted you.

He glanced up at you through sharp eyebrows then returned to his book. “Perhaps. Did you enjoy yourself? At the match?”

You sat down, uncomfortable. “It was a close one. The other chaser-“

“Vaisey. Got hit in his thick head, sent to the hospital wing. Harper had to step in,” his voice was casual. If he was upset about the loss he wasn’t letting it show. “It’s only Quidditch.”

You barked out a laugh. “Well that’s a new one.”

“What is?”

“You, not caring about Quidditch. Especially when you lost to Gryffindor. I’d half expected this chaise to be in shambles today.”

He closed the book and fixed his cold gaze on you. “Believe me - I detest losing to Potter,” he growled. “But Quidditch is the least of my worries this year. I almost didn’t play, but,” he trailed off, waving a hand. He moved to place the hedgehog on the table.

“But what?”

“I wanted to.”

“Uh huh.”

“And you?”

“Me?”

“Are you ready to face Ravenclaw?”

You shrugged. “I mean, I’m just Keeper, it can’t be too different from practice.”

He smirked. “Just keep an eye out for Bradley - he’s the tricky one.”

You frowned, and glanced at the steam now leaking from the kettle. “Is that what you have planned for today? Quidditch pointers?”

“Just some small talk, while we wait for the water. Unless you’d rather we sit in uncomfortable silence?” You shook your head, chastised. He tapped the thick, silver rings on his fingers against the binding of the book in his hands, thinking. “Did I see you reading?”

“Note taking, actually,” you said casually. “Just to prepare for the season.”

Something flashed in Draco’s eyes, he almost looked impressed. “Smith has you spying then? Stepping up his game.”

“Not spying. Just… observations.”

He leaned forward and smirked. “And what have you observed about me?”

You froze. He was enjoying this too much, but to what end? Was it wise to reveal what you’d learned? “You never stop moving, you rely too heavily on faking out the opposing seeker and it ends up destabilizing your own team, and you don’t mind colliding with other players if it gives you an advantage. But, you and Harry were neck and neck, you could’ve caught the snitch if you’d followed through. Why didn’t you?”

“It didn’t seem worth it.”

“To win?”

“Yep.”

“Why not?”

“Like I said, it’s only Quidditch.”

You looked at him a long while, his face revealing nothing. The whistling of the kettle broke the silence, and once the tea was poured, the tutoring began, and the small talk ended.

After pouring over the notes from the Gryffindor v Slytherin game, Zacharias had tailored drills to exploit weaknesses from either team, but none of those would give you a particular edge against Ravenclaw.

The morning of the match was a snowy one, and in the changing rooms by the pitch, Devon Summerby was offering to put a warming charm on everyone’s gloves. Everyone but McManus wisely declined.

You’d heard from Yvette, who’d heard from Hannah, who’d heard from Pansy herself that she’d be commentating the match today. You gathered that she was the Slytherin girl always trailing after Draco and his entourage whenever he was surrounded by them, which had been seldom recently. But her disdain for Hufflepuff was no secret. If she was aware that you had been spending more time with her idea of a local celebrity, she hadn’t made it known to you.

The keeper’s helmet fit snugly on your head, and it made you feel silly.

Yvette laughed at your frown, fiddling with her forearm guards. “Don’t worry. You won’t be worried about how you look once you’re staring down a bludger.”

“Or falling off your broom to make a risky save,” Wanda added, offering a small smile. “You’ll do great, it’ll be fine.”

“Thanks, guys,” you replied, almost confident. If Hufflepuff lost because of you, Smith would never give you another moment’s peace.

“C’mon,” your captain called. “Let’s go.”

You followed the rest of the team out onto the pitch, gripping your broom nervously.

“Remember,” Wanda murmured, “if your hands get too cold, the end of your broom makes an excellent paddle.” She winked and followed the other chasers into the sky. You followed suit, and kicked off to circle the goalposts.

Even with the inclement weather, the stands were packed. It took you a moment, but you managed to pick out Donna and Herbert, huddled together for warmth about halfway between the goals and the teacher’s box. They waved, and you waved back, then you continued to circle the pitch.

A glint of sun off of white hair sent a jolt through your stomach, but it was just Luna. She wasn’t wearing her usual raven costume that cawed, but rather was bundled from head to toe in blue and bronze scarves, and her brilliantly blond hair had splayed itself out over her shoulders. At least it wasn’t Malfoy. The thought of him watching you, wearing this, giving him another thing to tease you about, made your stomach churn.

The match began in a flurry of robes, brooms, and snow, and you didn’t have to wonder long whether Pansy made a better commentator than Zacharias.

“Oh, there goes the Quaffle,” she droned, sounding bored. “Yvette Malcomn’s got it, there she goes. Not very pretty, that one.”

Despite yourself, you smacked your palm against your forehead. Was there no one in all of Hogwarts qualified to comment a sports game?

She continued, “Oh, look, now Roger Davies has got it. So interesting. He’s at least a bit better looking.”

Davies, the Ravenclaw captain, did have the Quaffle, and he barreled towards you from halfway down the pitch, Chambers at his heels. But where was Bradley? Draco had said to watch out for him.

You shook your head, hovering between the left and center posts. Now was not the time to think too hard about anything Draco Malfoy said.

Davies had his arm tucked like he held the Quaffle in a death grip, but now that he was closer, you weren’t sure anymore that he did have the Quaffle. Now, you truly did need eyes on Bradley.

The Hufflepuff team followed in hot pursuit, scrambling for a steal maneuver. Then, Davies and Chambers pulled off to the sides, revealing Bradley who’d been hidden between and slightly behind them. He bolted for the right goal, then at the last minute turned, and shot for the center.

But you were ready for it, thanks to Draco Malfoy of all people. You caught the Quaffle with both hands, and tossed it to Zacharias.

The match continued, you stopped a number of shots made by Bradley and Davies, though Chambers managed to sneak a few in, all while Pansy updated the crowd in a shrill monotone. Zacharias, Yvette and Cadawaller managed to gain a sizeable lead against Ravenclaw, and you could feel the hope of the Hufflepuffs in the crowd building. Until, of course, seconds away from catching the snitch, Devon Summerby’s warming charm faltered and both his and McManus’ gloves caught fire.

Pansy let her cackle echo across the pitch as the match ended in Ravenclaw’s favor.

Miniature Christmas trees and holly wreaths lined the dormitory in preparation for the break, but no one in your year felt particularly festive. Every single one of your professors, yes, even Hagrid, was determined to keep you working fervently right up until getting on the train to spend the holidays with your families.

Even so, Professor Slughorn had scheduled a holiday party for the Slug Club mid-December, just days before the break, and you hadn’t been quick enough to think up an excuse.

Your mother had sent you a dress to wear through the owl post, it was wintry but not particularly Christmas. It fell halfway down your calves and swayed in navy blue, embroidered with sparkling snowflakes, and the sheer cap sleeves were likewise decorated. It reminded you of the Black Lake when it was frozen over.

Herbert waited for you in the common room wearing his dress robes. He grinned and offered you an arm. “Are you ready to schmooze?”

“Am I ever,” you answered dryly.

Yvette and Donna were both nose deep in their textbooks by the fire, flanked by Hannah and Wanda. Yvette looked up from her copy of The Standard Book of Spells, Grade 5 and whistled.

“You two clean up good.”

Donna added, “I believe it’s clean up nice.”

“It’s clean up nicely,” Wanda corrected, smiling. “And you do look quite nice.”

“Thank you, Wanda,” you said with emphasis. Donna waved a hand at you and returned to her reading.

Yvette addressed Herbert. “You’re sure you’re okay with this?”

He looked you up and down, and said, “I’ve had worse company on a Friday night.” You punched his arm at the joke.

Yvette rolled her eyes. “I meant talking me up to Slughorn.”

“I know. Don’t worry - your academic reputation is safe in my capable hands.” And then Herbert winked. And Yvette blushed.

“Ahem,” she said, covering quickly. “Well. Have a good night then.” Herbert pretended not to notice and steered you out the round common room door.

In the basement corridor, with the door shut behind you, you turned to Herbert and remarked incredulously, “That was smooth. Who are you and what have you done with Herb?”

He smiled shakily, and began walking you to the party.

“Was it? My ears feel like they’re on fire, and I may faint any moment.”

“Could’ve fooled me. I think you definitely fooled her. Where’d that come from?”

“She’s just a girl. It’s not like she’s gonna bite me if she doesn’t like me back. So, I have decided to flirt.”

He said it so matter-of-factly, he’d definitely thought this through carefully. You had to laugh.

“We’re rooting for ya, buddy.”

He rolled his eyes at you. “Your continued support means more than I can say.”

The both of you wove through corridor after corridor, up staircase after staircase, and by the time you were anywhere near the faculty offices, you were both cursing Hogwarts’ chief architect for putting the Hufflepuff common room below sea level. At least the Slytherins would have a further trek, and the image of Zabini huffing and puffing like you were doing now made you feel better.

You shared a determined look with Herbert, and knocked on Slughorn’s door.

At once, it boomed open. The potions’ master was once again clad in his preferred smoking jacket, but the cap he’d chosen to accompany it this evening bore a long tassle. Music poured from the open door.

“Miss Y/L/N!” he boomed, inviting you in. He took Herbert’s hand and shook it enthusiastically. “And you must be Mr. Fischer. Y/N has told me all about you, now tell me. Is it true you too can conjure a full bodied patronus?” Slughorn steered Herbert away from you, readying for the surprise interview.

Herbert only smiled genially. “If you think that’s impressive, sir, you should hear about my friend, Yvette Malcomn.”

The room had been draped with Christmas colored curtains top to bottom, and the only light was a beautiful golden lamp hanging from the middle of the ceiling. You frowned, real fairies had been shut inside, and you had half a mind to ask them if they’d like to be freed, but Professor Slughorn probably wouldn’t appreciate that much. You meandered through throngs of adult wizards smoking long pipes, house elves carrying trays of hors d’oeuvres, and students you were half familiar with, looking for someone you actually knew.

Luna was supposed to be coming, with Harry Potter of all people. Though they didn’t appear to have arrived yet, given Slughorn’s interest in Harry, you believed you’d hear about it when they did.

Then you spotted Ginny across the room, tucked into a corner, looking horribly uncomfortable.

“Ginny!” you said, relieved to have found someone to talk to. She turned to look at you with puffy eyes. “Hey, no Dean?” She shook her head. “D’you wanna get some butterbeer?” She nodded, and you looped her arm through yours.

She walked with you over to the casks of magically chilled butterbeer without enthusiasm, and took the mug you offered her.

“You know,” you said, taking that perfect first, frothy sip. “You could always dump him. You’re way too cool to be with someone who won’t even come to parties with you.”

She laughed, and replied, “This just isn’t his thing, I guess. Who’d want to come to a fancy party with your professor’s fancy friends and have your girlfriend wearing a fancy dress hang off your arm all night.” She rolled her eyes, mirth gone again, and took a long swallow of butterbeer. “But, I’m here, and he isn’t, and I may as well have fun. Who’re you here with, anyway?”

“Herbert, but he’s off schmoozing Professor Slughorn.”

“Let’s mingle a bit then, shall we?”

Ginny turned back into her normal self like a switch had been flipped, which did make you worry a touch, but she was tough, and if having a normal evening without talking about feelings was what she needed, you were happy to oblige. The both of you mingled your hearts out, meeting several of Slughorns old students, all now prominent members of their fields. You were beginning to get the sense that this ‘Christmas party’ was just another, larger, networking meeting.

“Oh, no,” said Ginny.

You looked around. “What?”

“McLaggen, straight ahead. I forgot Hermione was coming with him. They’re headed straight for the mistletoe.”

You watched, horrified, as McLaggen looked up and grinned at his good luck, mere moments before Hermione did the same and shuddered at her equally bad luck. He said something, probably meant to be flirtatious, then plunged his hands into her neatly done hair and went in for a kiss as she dodged.

“Merlin’s beard,” you remarked. “We should do something.”

Ginny reached into the pockets of her red and golden dress, and pulled out an old candy. “Nosebleed Nougat. Leftover from last time I wore this thing. Shall we?”

“You’re just. So. Cool.”

You moved in casually, Ginny from the left as you went right, and synchronized your attack. Ginny got Hermione’s attention as you bumped into McLaggen, who flailed for a moment before righting his balance, but by the time he could, Hermione had followed Ginny behind a curtain. As he was glancing around, you slipped the bad end of the Nosebleed Nougat into the last cup of toffee pudding on a passing house elf’s tray. Then, you slipped away, watching him take the dessert out of the corner of your eye, suspecting no foul play.

Take that, Malfoy, you thought smugly to yourself. Turns out I can sneak just fine.

Hermione had continued to slip through the curtains back towards the drink casks, and Ginny met back up with you to share a high five before you followed Hermione for another celebratory round of butterbeer.

Slughorn’s enthusiastic greeting boomed all the way to the corners of the room - Harry must’ve just arrived. Herbert appeared at your side, his own mug of butterbeer in hand.

“I think I’ve made some headway,” he said. “Hey Ginny, Hermione.”

Hermione gave a weak hello, then, “Bloody hell. He just doesn’t give up. I’ve gotta go.” She slipped back into the curtains just in time for McLaggen to spot Ginny and come trotting up.

“Where’d Hermione go?” he said. A drop of blood had finally started to gather at the tip of his nose. It wouldn’t be long now.

Ginny pointed across the room. “I think she stopped to talk to-“ but she didn’t need to finish, as McLaggen was already off in the direction she’d pointed to. “Git.”

Professor Slughorn paraded Harry around, who was holding onto Luna like a lifeline, to several of his old friends. You waited for the opportune moment to say hello, when the door banged open again.

Mr. Filch was dragging Draco Malfoy in by his ear. The latter wrenched himself from the former’s grasp, face burning red.

“All right!” he shouted. “I was trying to gatechrash, happy?” A small crowd had begun to form because of the disturbance, and his eyes flicked over you as he took in the onlookers. He looked tired, again. Like he’d caught cold but was refusing bed rest and tea.

Filch, equally red in the face, shouted back, “No! You’re in trouble, you are!”

Finally, Slughorn stepped in, waving a hand. “That’s quite alright, Argus,” he said. “It’s Christmas, after all, and this is a party. Just this once, you may stay if you like, Draco.” He winked, expertly breaking the tension. “We’ll forget about any punishment. Alright, Mr. Filch?”

Mr. Filch did not look like he was alright with that, but wasn’t about to argue and shuffled off. Draco, however, immediately set to kissing up to Slughorn.

You overheard an especially sugared remark about Draco’s grandfather’s supposed opinion of Slughorn, and snorted.

Immediately, Draco’s sharp gaze leveled on you.

“Something to say, Y/L/N?”

There was venom in his voice you hadn’t expected. Herbert shifted protectively.

“I only wondered how often your grandfather made a point to discuss Hogwarts’ faculty with you. Seems an odd topic of conversation to me.” You glared at each other for a heartbeat before Professor Slughorn continued on talking like the exchange had never happened.

Herbert steered you away by the elbow, whispering, “Let’s not get into any fisticuffs at a Christmas party, yeah?”

“Sorry,” you grumbled. “I just haven’t actually had a chance to eat anything yet.”

“Well we should fix that then.” He gallantly offered you his arm to lead you in a search for the nearest house elf with food. A lukewarm spinach puff later, and you felt a little bad over the whole thing.

Draco had settled in, helping himself to a mug of butterbeer. You assured Herbert you were fine, and went to apologize.

“Fancy party, huh?” Draco asked, hearing you approach.

“Very. I see you dressed up.” He was wearing his usual casual dress, which happened to be not very casual at all and accompanied by a black tie. The corner of his mouth quirked up. That was the best you could hope for. “I’m sorry, for earlier. Kissing up is a normal part of networking, but it’s impolite to point it out.”

“True.”

“So, now that you’re here, what do you make of the Slug Club?” He snorted derisively, casting a judgmental gaze across the party goers. Something was off, so you took a shot in the dark. “You didn’t come here to crash the party, did you?” Draco’s expression was stony, his eyes evasive. “What are you up to?”

“No, I came to see what kind of company Slughorn deems fit for his inner circle. My father always said the quality of this school was failing,” he scoffed.

His father was also a current resident of Azkaban, but you bit your tongue. Instead, you replied, “Well it certainly looks as if he’s interested in your input.”

“I won’t apologize for the standards my family has fought to uphold since before the Ministry was founded,” he snapped, “My pride wouldn’t allow it.”

“I don’t care that you’re proud. Or competitive. Or that you have a sharp tongue. I care that you take every cheap shot you can. I care that you refuse to see reason, and you’re so obsessed with your precious bloodlines, like witches like my friends somehow don’t deserve to be here. And I care that if it weren’t for that one thing I might… We may have been friends.”

“Oh, you’d like that, wouldn’t you?” he sneered.

“Yes,” you said, incredulous. “I don’t understand why you have to fight everyone all the time.”

“Have you ever considered that maybe everyone is fighting me all the time?”

You crossed your arms in front of you and gave him a look. “Now, that’s a crock of dragon dung, and you know it.”

Professor Snape materialized at Draco’s shoulder. “A word, Draco.” He walked away, expecting Draco to follow him.

Draco left you with one more sour look before following his Head of House out of Slughorn’s office.

Ginny replaced him, standing in front of you looking none too pleased. “Well,” she said, “that was interesting.”

“What?”

“Looked a lot like a lovers’ quarrel to me. I should know, I’ve had more than my share of those recently.”

You were suddenly very tired, and had no patience for guessing games. “I’m sorry, can you catch me up here?”

“You and Malfoy seemed awful familiar. It does make me wonder when you’ve had the time to make nice.”

“He’s been tutoring me for Transfiguration. Dumbledore asked him to.”

“Sure, sure,” she said, though she didn’t look convinced. “But I’ve never fluttered my eyelashes at a tutor, much less a Slytherin.”

You narrowed your eyebrows, not liking at all what she was insinuating. “I did no such thing.”

“Oh, I think you did. In fact, I think you have a crush. And I can’t pretend to approve your choice, so next time you have relationship advice for me, save it.” She appraised you coldly for a moment. “Harry thinks he cursed Katie Bell, you know.”

“He couldn’t have,” you said without thinking.

“Oh? And how would you know?”

“Because… I saw him, in the library. While everyone else was at Hogsmeade.”

She smirked, and simply said, “Right, of course you did.”

You turned away from Ginny and stormed out of the room, wrenching out of Herbert’s grasp as he tried to stop you. You had to find him. A crush? On Draco Malfoy? That sniveling, annoying, good for nothing prat? You were going to find him, and when you did you were going to give him a piece of your mind. That’ll show him. That’ll show her.

Turning down the corridor, you started looking in classroom windows. By the time you got to the stairs, you knew where you’d find him.

The door to the Room of Requirement was already materialized on the wall. You yanked it open to find Draco, hunched over, gripping a table in an almost bare room. He turned as you entered.

“How did you get in here?”

You ignored his question and started yelling. “You!” He backed away from you, looking a little frightened. Good. “You just keep popping up, everywhere! Why can’t I get away from you?”

He stammered something, a lock of disheveled hair falling in front of his eyes as he looked for an escape route.

You shook your head, grabbing him by the tie, and pulling on it to make him look at you. “You are the absolute worst, do you know that?”

“Uh,” he warbled.

He was right where you wanted him. You were primed to eviscerate him verbally. And then -

You tugged a little harder, crashing your lips against his.

His breath hitched, surprised, but then he sunk into it. Draco’s ringed fingers brushed across both your cheeks, cupping your face.

Something in your gut flipped when you realized what was happening, and that he wasn’t fighting it. You froze.

Draco pulled back, confused. “What?”

“I-I’m sorry.” You backed away, stumbling around the table. “I don’t know what, I don’t know why I did that.”

He reached for you again. “What’s wrong?”

“I’m sorry.” You turned and ran out the door before he could catch you, not stopping until you reached the common room door.

You stopped in front of it, and brought a trembling hand to your mouth. You weren’t sure what was worse - that Ginny had been right, that you’d kissed Draco Malfoy, or that you could still feel his lips on yours.

~~~ Taglist ~~~

@jemomgershippingco

@snickersmee

@cillshot

@reb0rned

[calmthefuckdownalright]

Hello!! Could I possibly request some Phantombur x reader interactions?

Im answering these as quick as I can I promise-

Pairing: Phantombur x Reader

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Prompt: First Date

Wilbur pulled the chair out for you and scooted it under you, allowing you to adjust it as you wished. He took his seat across from you and presented a bottle filled with an odd liquid the color of black cherries.

"I conjured up a strength potion for us, I've got a whole evening planned." He smirked and pulled another identical potion before handing one to you and uncorking them both.

"Starting right from sunset i assume?" You asked sarcastically.

"Well of course, how else are you supposed to see my handsome face?" He smiled widely, showcasing his deadly canines and offered a cheers with his potion. You obliged and downed it with him.

Wilbur shook out his head and rolled his shoulders at the strong taste of the potion.

"Now then, I've set up promptly a whole feast basically for us but before we start I would like you to join me in a game of tag to get our appetites up." Wilbur clicked his tongue.

"So you sat me down like a gentleman for nothing?" You cocked an eyebrow at him.

"Basically yes."

Very much a gentleman and likely does stupid things on purpose to make you smile to make you remember how much fun you had so you'd go on a second date with him

~~~~

Prompt: Rocky Start

New to the server and the only other Elytrian in the Pub's interface you were bound to...make...some new friends. Phil had semi introduced you to everyone but the one called Wilbur, or more commonly Phantombur or oddly Ghostbur at times, did not seem very keen to be as friendly as the rest.

"Just give him time. He doesn't like new people. You should've seen it when I got here." Shelby was quick to befriend you and you often hung around at her cottage which was oddly close to the other Phantom's.

"Is he odd?" You asked.

"Depends on the day really. He's super nice once you know him though." Shelby had insisted so you spent the next few days trying to at least get the mischievous potion master to speak to you.

"alright look-" you entered Wilbur's shop with a handful of diamonds and a few gold bars as well. The shop owner looked up in startled surprise before a bored look replaced it. "If I buy out your supplies will you at least tell me why you think i'm scum of the earth?"

"What are you talking about?" Wilbur closed the book he had in his hand and removed the cigarette that hung loosely from his mouth.

"You've done nothing but scowl at me since I got here." You clarified and laid out the gems of payment. Then Wilbur laughed. Loudly and mockingly. He smirked and gazed at your differently, in a way like nothing else mattered.

"Darling I've been flirting with you this entire time waiting for this moment."

Seriously had no idea for this, got a random prompt generator so I really hope you were looking for some romance

~~~~

Prompt: Dying wish

"I only wish to see you again, in the next life perhaps."

The words were catastrophic and you had yet to see your husband after your death. For now you roamed a new plane, one of hybrids and monstrous species. You among them with powers unique.

Then something new happened. Someone arrived. A ghost. A phantom of a man with a charming smile and bright green eyes. Rumor had it he was cunning and handsome as they came. A similarity you couldn't bear to connect.

Then you saw him. Wilbur. Your Wilbur. Dead but here with you again.

"I guess we made it to the next life my love." He said when he saw you and nothing could stop you from running into his arms any longer. Years apart were torn down with a single embrace and loving kiss.

Wilbur built a business with you and constructed an strange and complicated shield of protection for you over the next years. You became untouchable lest the rest of the server face the wrath of the Potions Master Phantombur and his ever loyal wife.

"I guess they took till death do we part seriously." Charlie had joked once and earned a sound from Wilbur you longed for. His laugh, intoxicating and joyous.

Kinda sad but overall rather fun

~~~~ (last one!)

Prompt: Stolen heart

From what you knew, Phantombur was clever. If he wanted something he would find a way to get it and that was that. For weeks you had heard of supplies going missing and vaults penetrated but no signs of entry found. The work of a true thief.

And yet..you remained untouched and a regular at Wilbur's potion shop just for safe measure.

"You hear about Jack getting robbed?" You smiled as you entered the shop and picked out your usual order. A few regen and a strength potion.

"Weird innit?" Wilbur smiled at you and gave a convincing smirk.

"Totally weird. Heard he saw some real pretty green eyes close by earlier before it happened." You narrowed your eyes knowingly at him. "Similar to yours I do believe."

"Aw you think my eyes are pretty." Wilbur feigned flattery and chuckled.

"Can I ask you somethin Wilbur?" You leaned on his counter and the Phantom man mimicked your stance, his face inches from yours and smiling like a cat as always.

"Well of course darling." He responded slyly.

"Why haven't you stolen from me yet?" You questioned with a hushed voice and narrowed eyes.

"It's simple my dear," Wilbur rasied a hand and brushed a loose strand of hair behind your ear. "Your heart isn't just sitting in a storage room somewhere ripe for my taking."

PICK. UP. LINE. is all i could think of with this randomly generated prompt and I'm not gonna lie if you used this on me I just might perish

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[koreanbibliophilegirl]

I suppose I should talk about possible/confirmed plan changes to my WIPs?

(Fair warning: I've mostly calmed down, but I don't want to work myself up again, so I'm gonna be writing in a normal tone. I promise I'm not ignoring or trying to make light of the whole thing! I just don't wanna talk too deeply about it. All the love and support to Shelby Shubble & all victims of abuse!!!💖)

First off, I believe characters are separate from their creators- anyone who continues to create content about c!Wilbur has my support and respect!

(I will most probably continue to consume content related to c!Wilbur as well, though I will tag him as "c!Wilbur" now, rather than "Wilbur Soot"- I've been tagging all dsmp characters only as their corresponding CC's names, mostly out of laziness. For instance, c!Tommy wasn't tagged as "c!Tommy", he was tagged as "TommyInnit". I don't want to change my whole tagging system, but c!Wilbur at least will be tagged as "c!Wilbur" from now on!)

None of my writing was RPF in the first place, it was all about the characters- but I'm not sure if I myself am ready to freely write c!Wilbur or fanfiction!Wilbur stuff yet. Maybe I never will be; idk.

So here are the changes I'll be making!

DSMP Superpower AU: c!Wilbur will stay. I was planning to include all the DSMP characters(The 'mains', at least, I'm not sure about secondary characters yet), and the notion of leaving c!Wilbur out doesn't really appeal to me. So c!Wilbur will still appear here!

Temporal Transcendence: Honestly, at first I thought TT!Wilbur would be irreplaceable, but after some thought, I was surprised to find it might just work! Karl and Niki would play bigger roles than I expected, but it could definitely work. Heck, it might even be better than the original plan! So I think Wilbur will likely be cut from TT.

Oshi No Ko but Happier AU: I'm on the fence about this one. Wilbur's character isn't CRUCIAL crucial, but he's still pretty important. The outline of the plot will look much different if he does indeed end up getting cut out. So I'm gonna mark this WIP as a solid "idk" and just work it out as I go.

Rarepair Royalty AU: I've never talked about this AU. This one is a bit funny, cuz cutting Wilbur's character out actually solves some of the problems I had with the outline! The plot will actually work out better if Secondborn Prince Wilbur didn't exist- so he's definitely cut from this one! I just need to find someone new to pair with Karl. (Probably Seapeekay; I have the currently ongoing MCYT crackship brackets to thank for the ship!)

Lucky Star: Another fic that's never been talked about- this one is my newest WIP! :D I wasn't even sure where I was going to fit Wilbur in- a character called Wilbur never even existed here. Well, he did, but I'd deleted him for plot reasons a while ago and was in the middle of trying to find another slot. (Cyberknife is Techno's dead twin in this WIP btw- he's not a replacement character for Wilbur, the twin was always going to be Cyberknife.)

Tome AU: SBI literally only serves as Tommy's rich and powerful family here- at least, up to where I've fleshed out. Wilbur's only moment in the spotlight is when he argues with Tommy over dinner, bc he doesn't like how Tommy "got stuck" raising baby Shroud with Purpled(who found Shroud in a trash can), & is caught glaring at Purpled. I'll edit him out maybe. Or leave him, he's not a major character after all. idk.

Others(Mostly Bedrock Bros-centric): Honestly, I never could figure out how to write Wilbur's character that well. So 'Wilbur' isn't too big a character in most of these. Will likely cut.

Tom and Bunnypig(Bee and Puppycat AU): You know what, I think I'm going to make this half-baked idea into a proper WIP. Wilbur never existed here either, so yeah.

CONCLUSION: The whole thing is a mess, and I'm sad and mad, as we all are, but I'm gonna stop thinking about how horrible Wilbur Soot is & focus on how brave Shelby Shubble is!

I'm intrigued at what removing a single character did to my plot outlines, and hopefully, this will open a lot of new opportunities in my writing. I'm certainly looking forward to how my writing skills will develop after this.

To everyone who's actually read through this; thank you for reading this whole thing, I know it's kinda long.😅 Have a cookie and a hug, we all need it🍪🫂 Remember to drink water & eat something! All my love💖💖

[keirawantstocry]

hi! im not very good at getting my ideas across but i will try :)

do you ever think about how aware revivebur was that ghostbur was a better person than him? I mean he was gone for so long and was replced by this sad, see-through version of himself that somehow made friends. And all revivebur has is a little brother whos scared of him and a homoerotic rival. poor guy tbh.

also, about quackity. he went from being vice precedent to owning an entire country. like girl. he was paranoid, but to a length that made sense, and the one time he let his guard down his one friend left him. guys. augggggg.

ermm yeah i tired

oh rats i see you. i Get you

wilbur has never really thought that highly of himself deep down. i dont think anyone with destructive tendencies that are so high can. and then. when he is finally freed from his own personal hell he finds he has been replaced by a version of him that is almost him but also so emotionally distant from who he is. ghostbur is still very much wilbur but a wilbur who doesn't have the tramua and expirences that revivebur does.

his own brother prefers him dead. the one person who is supposed to never leave him

and Quackity i mean. wilbur sees them as rivals but also foils of each other, he sees quackity as the only one who can understand him. they both get left time and time again. betrayed by the ones they trusted

quackity. the tragedy that is c!quackity oh my. always in someone else's shadow. husband/fiancee schlatt? dead. if you consider more lore canon then others you could even put eret on the list as someone who just honestly didn't care. then lets be honest there was wilbur. he went to wilbur during pogtopia. he trusted him. gosh he opened up even with all the tramua of schlatt so close behind in his past and wilbur ends it. betrays that trust if you really think about it. leaves him. so then come the fiancess and quackity finally thinks that there's hope for him, someone who won't leave. and then karl forgets him and sap cares more ab karl. so he's alone. once again. time after time hes been betrayed and abanoned. no wonder hes so hostile when wilbur comes back. its the rehashing of fresh and old tramua. and then. oh. he opens up to slime. slime dies.

maybe hes just not meant to be loved yeah?

[poltergeist-coffee]

"wil.... there's something I've been meaning to ask you"

the brunet smiles "what is it big q"

"well I've been wondering... would you want to become a mermaid and be with me, together in a pod"

wilbur laughs awkwardly, the smile on his face becoming strained, "you're joking right, you're not actually suggesting I swallow a scale for you... right"

"why would I joke about this"

the smile disappears quickly replaced by a scowl, "quackity why the fuck would you think I would ever accept that deal" his voice raising

"well... I-"

"I've told you my biggest fear why would I ever put myself in the same situation" he seethed

"what do you mean some situation? I thought his memory problems was just from old age or something"

"old-" he cuts himself off taking a breath to cool down "my father's condition was caused by swallowing a mermaid scale quackity, that's the price for taking the deal"

"well he took the deal"

rage filled wilbur, "took the deal... you think he willing chose to swallow that scale and lose his memories‽ cause if that's what you think big q you are dead wrong. his hand was forced, he swallowed that scale to protect his family. my father was willing to sacrifice everything to keep us safe" his voice raised again. "he NEVER would have eaten that scale if he didn't have to"

"well even if he didn't want to eat it he's fine now so why wont you‽"

wilbur couldn't believe what he was hearing "fine....you think he's fine, do you have ANY idea of how long it took to get to this point‽ how many 'bad days' I had to wake up with my own fucking father not even remembering my name‽‽‽ how many sleepless nights I've spent wondering if this was it, if this time the memories didn't stick, if this time his memories would stay locked away‽‽"

quackity didn't have an answer to that, so wilbur kept going,

"do you know how hard it is to wake up and find someone you love quizing himself on his own children's names, how hard it is to watch as he spends his good days making sure we will be okay when he forgets. can you even comprehend waking up every morning asking yourself if you're going to have to spend they day trying to get him to remember you"

there was a heavy silence as the weight of his words sank in,

"he's gone through hell and back to get to this point and he still struggles, he still has bad days. he still forgets" he doesn't even know when the hot angry tears started rolling down hid face, "he didn't even swallow a whole scale... thats the only reason we didn't lose him"

neither spoke for a long time after this. until the flying fish decided to break the silence,

quackity took wilburs hands into his own "well.... would it really be so bad to forget all this. I mean if you take my offer we can be together and, and you won't have to live in this fishing village, and you won't have to worry about phil forgetting you" quackity took wilburs silence as permission to continue, "you could leave all that pain behind if you take the deal"

it took the human a few moments to calm himself before speaking, lacing his words with the venom he could feel building in his heart, "only a fool would truly believe I would leave my family behind for you"

he squeezed wilburs hands hoping to calm him, wilbur took them away so if he had just touched hot coals, "we- we could give your daughter a scale too, she can come with u-"

"leave"

quackity looked into wilburs eyes not expecting the look of pure hatred that filled them

"what... what are you-"

"fucking leave. I don't care where you go as long as it's not fucking here"

"wil-"

"don't "

"please let me-"

"I was a fool to think you would be different... just... just leave" the hate had left wilburs form, leaving behind a hollow sadness, "please"

-🪶

the trap (angst) is set, and now I shall wait for it to go off (be read)

[bonesandthebees]

me before this: ough… i dont know how i'll be when bee writes rose with wilbur or if anyone else writes something with wilbur… his name is tainted for me in a way i can never recover

bee: posts sandduo modern au

me: OOOHHMYGODDDDD MY LIFE IS THE BEST THING EVER RIGHT NOW--CAN ANYBODY HEAR ME??? THIS IS AMAZING I AM SO EXCITED LETS GOOOGJSDLFDKLS (this is dramatizing my feelings ofc, i was still very excited for rose but damn nothing hits like pure modern au sandduo sdkjfkjds)

lol I want everyone else to know before these asks I also received multiple asks that was just icy keyboard smashing in my inbox

anyway I had a feeling you'd be excited to see that one icy lol (although I wasn't sure bc of course I'm not sure who is comfortable with reading that name these days and who isn't)

I'm so glad that you're still able to read my works with the character!! I definitely get that superficial feeling trying to replace him with someone else. like yeah it might be uncomfortable to use the name, but it doesn't feel the same using something else bc you're used to writing a specific character it's not just a placeholder yknow. fair enough to anyone who has rewritten their fics with an oc in place of c!wilbur, but it's not something I could do

I'm glad I waited as long as I did to start writing rose again. I think I needed this extended time away from writing the character because now my feelings have settled 100% so separating the character from the guy is already done. I know the character I'm writing and it's just so easy to slip back into things. it might be challenging for others which is totally okay, but in my experience writing the character again only reinforced the separation in my head bc I was like oh yeah this is my guy my blorbo and not anyone else